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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 years

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Cold as ice II

a/n because why not take an opportunity to cry some more. I am so thankful for all the love honestly! You guys are the best!✨🤍

summary: what happens when Ellie stumbles upon a memorial that turns out to have both your and Joel's kids names on it. When the past pain is brought back to the daylight even the coldest of hearts finally break.

This can be read as a standalone but is written as a part two to Cold as ice.

warning: Killing, mentions of multiple death, loosing your kids, supplement use, mention of miscarriage, trauma but I think this is not as bad as the first part lol.

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"How is she?", Tommy approached Joel in a tight corridor that was filled with both sobbing people and soldiers shouting. "The same," Joel ran a hand over his face, "They are moving everyone out of here today. To a different quarantine facility." Those words instantly sparked something in Joel. "What? Shit, she's still pumped up with meds", if the process of going there was as torture as it was getting here, you barely stood a chance.

"Joel", Tommy started, but Joel was all up at his face within a heartbeat, "Tommy, if you'll tell me one more fucking time to leave her by. I will blow out your brain's myself". The tone was anything but pleasant. Joel had been wanting to rip someone to pieces for some time now. He had beaten the stranger to a pulp here after the first day. The man was standing in front of the door that led to your room. Crunched down to look through the little window. Joel didn't ask questions; he just swung a punch. Nor did he remember much besides that when Tommy pulled him away, the man was nothing but a pool of blood.

"You know that's not what…", "She lost two kids…", Joel's words cracked mid-sentence as the thought of his two angels once again swirled in his mind. His biggest and most precious little bugs were taken away like that. "So did you, man", Tommy brought Joel closer to him. Joel's arms moved to grip the material of his brother's jacket. He didn't want to cry, but the sob had come out of nowhere. The past three days have been a nightmare and then some. Now Joel was sure that he was paying for all of his sins. Paying in the most brutal ways.

Dragging you away from the field was the second hardest thing Joel ever had to do. He could only pray that his arms would not let him down as he pressed you closer to his body. Joel wasn't sure what they injected into your neck once you reached an army van and practically ripped out the eyes of the soldier who tried to help you into the vehicle, but you collapsed immediately. Joel barely managed to catch you. He pressed your unconscious body against his. Just like he had for the past hour or so. Praying and hoping that you weren't gone. Joel couldn't lose all three of you. Now you were all he had to fight for. No matter how much pain he was in himself. Joel had to drag you both out of the darkness.

Then he sat in the chair next to your bed. If you could even call it that. When they had ushered everyone underground, Joel had bribed a nurse to give you three a room and make sure that a doctor would come to check you. At that time, the price didn't matter. He needed an answer. Needed to know that you were going to wake up. High dose of sedatives - the doctor had said. "But I doubt it'll keep her out for long. After two kids… My apologies. If I'll find any medication", he had placed a supportive palm on Joel's shoulder. Something that would also end up feeling so foreign soon.

If Joel thought seeing you unconscious was difficult, it didn't compare to the heartbreak he had to endure the moment you opened your eyes. You jolted with a gasp. Eyes jumped across the room as you tried to figure out where you were. "Love…", Joel stood up, slowly approaching you. "Sarah… Malakai," you murmured as you continued to look around. "How about a glass of water, huh?", Joel asked, hoping to sway the topic. But you pushed the blanket off your body. "Sarah and Malakai," you repeated. Joel clenched his jaw. "Sarah and Malakai," "Love, stay in bed," Joel put his hands on your legs, stopping you from pushing them over the edge. "Sarah…Malakai", you said once again, eyes looking up at Joel, "They killed them. I saw… I saw," you breathed out, pressing a finger to your forehead where the bullet had pierced your son's skull. "I know, baby, I know", Joel tried to gently hold onto you, but the moment his palms touched your arms, you let out the loudest scream. Pushing him away as you turned to the other side of the bed. You dragged your feet over the cold concrete. Sinking to the floor without even being able to take a step forward. Joel rounded the bed as he kneeled in front of you.

"They are dead," you cried out, pulling at Joel's shirt, "My babies… I need to go, I need to…", you tried to pull yourself up by using Joel to brace yourself, but that only made you glance down at your hands, which were still slightly stained by the dried blood that had been on them. "Y/N, you need to calm down. Or they will come in here and", but you paid Joel no mind as you pulled your hands up so you could look at them.

"Get it off," you whispered, "Get it off," pushing your arms towards Joel as you screeched. Joel had scrubbed your unconscious body for hours. There was nothing more he could do. "Joel, get it off," you said once more, tears spilling from your eyes, and Joel couldn't bring himself to do anything. "It's everywhere, get it off", you moved your hand to rub at your skin. All you saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Rubbing turned into scratching, and soon your nails were raking over your skin. Joel quickly caught both of your wrists in his hands. Shaking you slightly as if in hopes of making your return to your senses. "Make it stop", you cried out, hallow eyes looking at Joel. "There's nothing on your hands, love", he barely managed to sound somewhat like himself. But you just shook your head at him, "There's blood all over them. Our kids' blood, Joel."

That was a day ago. Now you just lay there. Leafless. No movements. Eyes blinking once in a while. The only indication that you were still alive. Now Joel wished you would scream. The silence was torture. It was too loud. It pulled you so far away from him. Tommy clapped his brother on the back a couple of times before pulling away. "Get her ready. I'll look at how to get the best spot for you and make sure you two stay together," Joel said nothing. He hoped his eyes said enough. "You look after her. We'll get her back up on her feet," Joel could tell that even if Tommy tried to keep it somewhat positive, he didn't fully believe it himself. Didn't believe that there was any coming back from this. Nor did he believe that you would ever be the same. But Joel nodded anyway.

"Hey", Joel ran a hand over your forehead, once he stepped back into the little room, but didn't get a single movement in return. Not that he was expecting it. "We will have to get you dressed, okay? Then we'll need to go somewhere," Joel said, carefully pulling the blanket off your body before reaching for your clothes. Clothes he had washed. Wash off your kids' blood. Blood that seemed never-ending.

You were shivering. It hadn't stopped ever since you were brought in the first QZ. It had died down a bit. But there wasn't a moment when the quivering stopped. Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked through the corridor. Everyone was on high alert, and the soldiers were tired. Jumpy even. More than one person was killed here simply in the aftermath of unimaginable stress and anxiety. They only let healthy, strong people stay. Anyone with any injury, even the slightest one, was shot. You needed to stand on your own two feet. Walk through the lines of different specialists. Prove yourself worthy of surviving. And even that didn't guarantee you anything. You could have been hit by a bullet at any point.

You, however, were in no condition to stand. There was no way you could walk, much less talk. "Keep your head at the crook of my neck, love", Joel guided your head to rest there, "I will not let go of you even for a second. No one who will approach us will take you away from me," and at this point, Joel wasn't sure if he was still reassuring you or if it had turned to self-reassuring now. With the help of the doctor who assisted you just as you were brought here. They filed the documents of you having a miscarriage. Right here at the QZ. A piece of paper that had the main doctor's signature and forbade you from walking. That had high dosages of medicine marked as a fallacious move by the doctor itself. That you were more than a healthy female before that, and that you would regain that strength once the medication wore off. The only hope Joel had of getting you out of here alive was that piece of paper. And if that didn't work… Well, Joel was ready to kill anyone who stood in his way.

"Joel," Ellie's sad voice pulled the male out of the trance, "Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this." Joel rested his palms on his knees, ready to stand up, but Ellie quickly inched forward. It seemed to her that the man in front of her was no longer the same Joel she knew. "How did you… how did you get through that?", she knew the question was stupid. Joel let out a sad chuckle followed by a painful sigh, "You don't even have an idea how much strength you have until you are forced to use it. That's when you truly see your power". Joel had locked his pain away. Behind a plethora of locks, doors, and crevices. So no one could see it. No one could access it. Draped a shield of coldness on top of it. The coldness made Joel seem more like an animal than a human. He had to become a monster in order to protect the only thing that kept his heart beating. Nothing was off-limits when it came to you.

"I felt like I was failing every day. Every day that I saw her lying there," Joel shook his head at the images that haunted him. The feeling of helplessness flowed through him. Joel had found a woman who could pretend to be you for the time being. Who could take your evening shifts. Who kept the target off your back. No one was allowed to lay around in the QZ, there was too much work as it was. "Joel you were far from failing her", Ellie said putting her hand on Joel's palm, "It feels different kiddo when you see someone you love drifting away".

All the worried looks that Joel would give you made sense now. All the times he would walk up to you. Taking a hold of your hand as he looked at you. Moving to kiss your hands at the time, if not that then, Joel would just hold them in his much bigger palms. At the time, Ellie thought that by doing that, Joel was just trying to warm them up during the cold evenings, but now it had a way bigger meaning behind it. That was Joel's silent attempt to make sure that you stayed with him. That you wouldn't drift away. Like a true guard at night, standing his watch. Always ready to fight for you.

"And I felt horrible that I left him all alone", the sound of your voice made the two of them turn toward the door. "I kept on telling myself to get up. You need to do that for Joel, but…", you shrugged your shoulders. Joel reached his arm towards you, and you instantly walked close to him. Settling down on his lap. His arm snaked around your middle as Joel pressed a loving kiss to the top of your head. "I never blamed you for it," Joel whispered, looking straight into your eyes. "I know because you're an angel." You cupped his face gently. Leaning in to press your forehead to his. Brushing your fingers under Joel's eyes as you wiped away the last tears.

This man was everything. If you'd fallen for him and his sense of humor back then. The fact that there was never a dull moment with him that even the most serious moments could be turned into fits of laughter. If you had fallen for how attentive and caring he was toward your kids. The way he always put them first. The way he sat in the bathroom for hours learning how to braid Sarah's hair or how he played astronauts with Momo even after the longest shift. Putting him over his shoulder or back as he ran around the living room making all sorts of noises. Then Joel turned into a rock—a whole mountain that shielded you from the restless sea that threatened to drown you. Never moving. Never scared.

"I don't want you to feel like we've been using you as some sort of… as our kids' replacement. The love I feel towards you…" you started, but Ellie quickly shook her head. "How could I? No, Y/N never," she said quickly, and you reached for her hands. "You are a special girl, Ellie, so special," you said as you brushed your fingers over her cheek, and she leaned into your touch. Trying to savor it for as long as possible. "You both are like my parents and I've never felt that..", Ellie's bottom lip trembled. Joel reached out to her as well.

"And you are our girl," Joel said, his voice shaky, but he knew he had to say it. Had to let her know that his coldness toward her at the start was just his defensive response. His fear of the unknown. The fear of it all ending the same. But Joel knew that once his nightmare shifted and he started to see Ellie dying in Sarah's or Momo's place, he knew that she had sneaked past his guard. Ellie had managed to find that well-hidden spark inside Joel's heart. And there was nothing that could have been done about it.

Ellie wrapped her hands over both of your shoulders, pulling you both into a hug. A light cry slipped from her lips. Your hand instantly moved to rub her back in hopes of soothing her. Joel pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head before turning his eyes to you. Your teary eyes were already looking back at him. You mouthed a silent "I love you" to him, which Joel returned straight away, followed by a light smile.

Once Ellie pulled away, you both looked at her with fondness. "Thank you for sharing this with me. You didn't have to, but you did," she said, as you rubbed away her tears the same way you had done before. "You are a part of the family now. Family doesn't have secrets," you said softly. "Plus, I think me and Y/N both needed closure", you nodded your head at Joel's words. You had told him multiple times that it was eating you alive that you were keeping this way from Ellie. You could tell that she sensed that something was wrong; she just never asked.

"Do you want to see a picture of them?", you asked, turning to Joel, who you knew had kept a picture of you four. The one he always carried around with him. Tommy had taken it on Momo's second birthday. The summer was in full swing, so you decided to have a barbecue outside. You stood there in a flowy dress, laughing at Sarah, who had a surprised look on her face since Joel had rubbed barbecue sauce on her cheek. Joel's head was thrown back as he laughed. Even Momo, who was nestled in your arms, had somewhat of a grin on his face.

"Sarah would have loved you", Ellie lifted her eyes away from the picture to the sound of Joel's voice. You hummed in agreement, "Momo would have been all over you as well you two cheeky bunch would have gotten into so much trouble". Ellie glanced back down. The image that she saw frozen in front of her seemed almost impossible compared to the two people she had met. But now she knew more than better to not judge the book by its cover. The deepest and most painful scars were always hidden the deepest.

"I would have loved to know them", Ellie said dragging her finger over their faces, "Momo, looks like a minute version of Joel". You let out a little laugh, "That's what I said. Imagine how mad I was after carrying him for nine months and he popped out looking nothing like me". Joel cracked a smile, looking down at the photograph himself. The one he barely pulled out these days.

"If we stay in Jackson, we must build them memorial stones and plant flowers all around them," Ellie said firmly. The tears picked up at the corners of your eyes as you gazed at her. "That's a really beautiful idea, Ellie bear," you said, running your fingers over her hair. Joel nudged Ellie's side playfully, making her let out a chuckle before he brought you closer to him once again. Time healed scars, even if slowly. But you two were here and now you had Ellie by your side. Your hearts, even if covered in scars, still beat for one another. Together, you were capable of anything and everything. Life has already proven that.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal imagine

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randomfoggytiger · 10 months

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😎

Thanks for dropping in! :DDDDD

The below might seem like I'm gassing you up or being overly sugary and sweet; but I cannot underestimate how much I mean every single word. Your fics were in my first round of xfiles fics ever; and they were cemented into my cracks before I ever got adventurous enough to feed the addiction and read 800+ authors.

This'll be long, so I included a cut.

(**Note**:Editing and proofreading my paragraphs? What is that?)

I begin, again, after 20 minutes of thorough combing

I spent 15-20 minutes grabbing link after link after link because... quite simply, your fics are grafted into my brain because of how many rereads I've done-- I can't separate them from each other, I can't pick favorites, I can't. I had to go by my tip top, cannot-pass-by-without-reading fics:

Whispered Words (Tumblr): Everything about this is perfection. Every time I read someone else's cancer fic, I immediately think of this one (and hunt it down for a reread.) Scully's symptoms, how and when Mulder notices; the blend of sickfic and angst and fluff together, no parts outrivaling the other... it's, again, perfection.

A New Day Has Come: It's such a cornerstone of my earliest cancer fics that this is how I always expect Mulder to react in other fics I read-- it's automatic programming at this point.

Every. Single. IVF fic you've written. I kid you not. To name a few (because it's not fun to just read "I liked it, lol" without some examples): Name Calling/Archive is the pinnacle post IVF failure: the best, ohmyword. Unnamed post IVF treatment fic and Five Minutes - Chapter 1 are seared into my brain as a part one and two; but if it's a sheer numbers game? Five Minutes - Chapter 2 wins out. It's just... how do you hold a moonbeam in your hand, y'know? How can I describe something that IS me? I refer you to Scully's Memento Mori speech-- she says it more eloquently than I do. ;))))

Every. Single. AU Requiem fic and S8 fic and S9 fic and S11 fam fic. You do loving relationships so well: they talk, they breathe, they exist like real people. I treasure the S8 fics you wrote from my prompts and reread them frequently--though I forgot to label the second and need to find that link hmmmmmm. This is exactly how it appears in my docs: Here's a prompt (if you want): Scully goes into... (tumblr.com) THIS WAS MY PROMPT Ao3 By Your Side Is Where I Belong - Baroness_Blixen - The X-Files [Archive of Our Own] LOVE THIS

And for nonspecific genre fics that I adore and cannot live without:

#58 Mulder to Scully thanks! Ao3 Prompts & Drabbles - Chapter 3 - [Archive of Our Own] Scully gets hit in the head with a baseball bat and you nailed every. single. aspect of this fic and I can't read it enough (going to read it again right after this.)

Since you were looking for an angsty prompt for... (tumblr.com) Ao3 We Will Find Our Way Home - [Archive] Scully and Mulder on the ice and Scully makes Mulder go alone to the Snocat? YES PLEASE.

I hope your muse comes back. I know she will soon!... Ao3 Things You Forget - Chapter 1 Mulder has amnesia and he and Scully have dinner with her mother and Bill while he remembers-- iconic.

A realization

...I'm staring at 20+ pages of your fic links (and 84 specifically marked ones that have LOVE THIS in bold and caps) and thinking that there is no way I can fit all of this into this ask. XDDDD

I'll close this by thinking of random moments in your fics that twirl around and around in my brain and put them down here:

Mulder waking Scully up by sneezing in her hair in Rain King.

Mulder and Scully crying after her recovery in Redux II.

Scully's annoyance and Mulder's complete stillness in the airport while waiting for their luggage in Five Minutes Chapter 2.

The hilarious way you wrote Mulder and Scully and Krycek and Doggett and Reyes in an Essence AU (Will is born in the car while they drive away from the FBI.)

Scully's head being squeezed like an orange in the baseball bat attack fic, and Mulder's irate panic from afar ("HE HIT HER")

Mulder's tie got stuck in a copier and Scully has to help him out (and Skinner doesn't even want to know.)

Maggie's not a fool when she catches Mulder and Scully a day or two after Chimera.

Scully gasses in the car and Mulder evens the playing field.

Mulder having amnesia after Millennium and only remembering his partnership with Diana (for a couple hours.)

Mulder delicately taking and holding and smiling over his scratchy list of baby names.

Scully feeling woozy in Three Words and Mulder helping her sit down.

Mulder panicking after Lamaze in Alone.

S8 Scully including Mulder in her late night snack and waltz session, as they discuss her neighbor's recently deceased husband.

Mulder swallowing the suddenly-too-sweet cake at Scully's baby shower (AU Essence~)

Mulder swapping places with Reyes in Essence-- it's he and Scully on the road, just like always.

Post Existence Mulder papa bear with little Will.

Revival baby girl being born on Mulder or Scully's birthdays (and the unique ways you changed the details of both versions.)

Mulder and baby Will showing up for Scully's "take your kid to work day" (and him rubbing Will in Colton's face, my word.)

(I'm not kidding when I mean every. single. one. of your IVF and S8 and family fics, so I'm not even going to BEGIN.)

All of your Millennium fics. All. But particularly the one where Scully is woken up by a grumpy Mulder who felt betrayed that she'd left and drove over, despite his injured arm, before calling her and asking for permission.

Mulder sobbing and holding Scully after the other agents tricked him into thinking she'd died in a car accident.

Diana locks Mulder and Scully up in the One Son fort for the night; and Scully's hurt and Mulder's hurt and their reconciliation and re-understanding is one of the fics I turn to when I need to sleep but also need a story to focus on. Makes my brain go wild.

TFWID Mulder having nightmares of his past lives with Scully. Another one of those stories that sets my brain on fire.

Revival Mulder's psychic powers comes back and he tells Scully in the restaurant (part I) and later senses their daughter's heartbeat (part II.)

An ending

And while I could go on and on and on, there's already a lot I put down. XDDDD Maybe I'll make a fic list with my top 85? fics that cannot be passed up-- although, I don't know if Tumblr will allow me that enough word space to fit them all in. Hmmmm.

Anyway, thanks for dropping in! :DDDDD And hope this was a good enough answer~. ;))))

#asks #baronessblixen #txf #fic #as the saying goes: these have my whole heart #I am a rereader more than a new reader #I live in the comfort of my “already read” collections #and these are absolute musts #couldn't find one of the links for a hot second and literally almost panicked XDDDD #xf fanfic #x-files #the x files

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aequitas-if · 2 years

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sorry if this is long, but here are a few questions from the ask games! (i just love all your characters so much, answer for whoever you would like!)

From the wholesome oc ask: 1, 6, and 14?

1. What is their go-to comfort food?

6. What is their favourite music genre? If they don’t have one, what’s their favourite song?

14. Quickly, let them give us some life advice!

From ✧ OC Asks Part II ✧, 9, 17, and 20?

9. What is their main love language?

17. How many hours of sleep does your OC get on average?

20. What AU would they belong in the best?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

and 46. have they taught themselves any skills just for fun?

also, loved the character profiles and the demo prologue prologue was great, i loved how you introduced everyone! looking forward to whatever you do next :D

I’m so glad you’re liking my characters and enjoyed the (short) demo so far! Thanks for your kind words 😊.

Now onto the questions!

These are pretty short questions and I’m feeling pretty generous today so I’ll do all the characters for each question.

1.) What is their go-to comfort food?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: Homemade Mac n Cheese!

Jasper: All of them. Speedster metabolism. Grilled Cheese

Zoe: Chocolate Chip Cookies

Rowan: A cheeseburger from a convenience store near his apartment

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: Mint Chocolate Chip Ice-cream

Leon: Any homemade food made by his mom

Juniper: Brownies

Nora: Not really a food but Hot Chocolate

Sebastian: Some fancy dessert like strawberry tarts 😭

2.)What is their favorite music genre? If they don’t have one, what’s their favourite song?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: Classical

Jasper: Pop Rock

Zoe: “Lay All Your Love on Me”

Rowan: Rock

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: “I Want You” by Mitski

Leon: “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen

Juniper: Pop Music

Nora: Instrumentals

Sebastian: Classical

3.)Quickly, let them give us some life advice!

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: “Trying is the most important thing anybody can do.”

Jasper: “Live life to the fullest.”

Zoe: “Remember to always be kind.”

Rowan: “The world is shitty. Suck it up.”

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: “Live your life and fuck shit up!”

Leon: “Why are you like this?”

Leon: “Try your best…?”

Juniper: “Always remember people’s names! You might not think it’s important but it always comes in handy when you least expect!”

Nora: “…be nice to others.”

Sebastian: “Don’t get attached to stuff.”

4.) What is their main love language?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: Acts of service

Jasper: Quality Time

Zoe: Physical Touch

Rowan: Acts of Service

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: Quality Time

Leon: Quality Time

Juniper: Physical Touch

Nora: Words of affirmation

Sebastian: Acts of service

How many hours of sleep does your OC get on average?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: A solid 8 hours.

Jasper: Depends if he has a project at work at not! Usually around 7-8 hours but if he has a project it drops down to like 3 hours.

Zoe: 4 hours but she doesn’t need as much sleep as humans!

Rowan: Like 4 hours? Probably why he’s so pissy all the time tbh. Someone help this man.

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: Vesper doesn’t sleep. (Like a solid 4 hours on a good day. Someone help this child).

Leon: Around 7 hours! He’s been sleeping a lot less though since getting his powers.

Juniper: Like 8 or 9 hours.

Nora: Like 5 because she usually lays awake at night rethinking all her life choices.

Sebastian: Around 6 hours.

What AU would they belong in the best?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: Fantasy could be fun with her!

Jasper: Dystopian AU could be interesting with Jasper.

Zoe: Another one who would be cool to see in a fantasy AU.

Rowan: Band AU.

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: I could see Vesper in any AU tbh.

Leon: Sci-Fi AU (is that one?)

Juniper: Hunger Games AU

Nora: Paranormal AU

Sebastian: Apocalypse AU

what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: The inspiration behind her was literally just strong women characters that I admire. So Donna Troy, Oracle, Momo Yaoyorozu, etc.

The first thing I decided about her was that she was going to be second in command of Aequitas!

Jasper: The inspiration behind him was comedic relief/best friend characters! The first thing I decided about him was that he was going to have superspeed.

Zoe: I was inspired by a bunch of different alien characters tbh. Which considering that I bet you can guess what the first thing I decided about her was…

Rowan: I was inspired by Roy Harper from Young Justice! The first thing I decided about him was actually his powers!

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: Hmm I was inspired by a lot a of things for Vesper. Mostly *spoilers*. The first thing I decided about them was their name.

Leon: I was inspired by characters like Jamie Reyes, Peter Parker, Tim Drake, and Izuku Midoriya. Basically characters that are new to being heroes. The first thing I decided about him was that he was going to be the one who finds out about V-*spoiler alert*!

Juniper: Honestly I had just wanted a normal teen who made pop culture references (Leon’s normal but he’s kinda out of touch with that stuff). The first thing I decided about her were her powers!

Nora: I don’t actually remember what inspired me for Nora! Maybe characters like Violet from the Incredibles or Suneater from MHA? The first thing I decided about her was her name!

Sebastian: I was inspired by a character in a fanfic I was reading ngl. Then I rewatched some of the DCAU and remembered how much I loved characters like Damian Wayne. It was kinda like fate.

The first thing I decided about him was his backstory.

A random fact about them

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: She prefers tea to coffee.

Jasper: He only learned to drive because he couldn’t explain how he got to places to quickly without having a car.

Zoe: She made a scrapbook for every year that the team was together.

Rowan: He has a motorcycle.

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: They read fanfiction.

Leon: His favorite hero used to be Momentum (Jasper).

Juniper: She has an old Aequitas poster on her wall.

Nora: She plays piano.

Sebastian: He knows how to ballroom dance.

Have they taught themselves any skills just for fun?

Original Aequitas Members

Alex: She doesn’t learn skills just for fun. All of her skills are ones she considers necessary to know.

Jasper: He taught himself Morse code so he could communicate with MC when he was bored during team meetings (didn’t really think that through considering MC was, you know, the leader).

Zoe: She taught herself how to bake!

Rowan: He taught himself how to play the drums.

Sidekick Squad

Vesper: They taught themself how to play violin for fun.

Leon: He taught himself how to skateboard.

Juniper: She taught herself how to photoshop. Although she would say that it’s a necessary skill in this day and age.

Nora: She’s teaching herself to knit!

Sebastian: Another one who considers all the skills he knows to be absolutely necessary.

#aequitas #my characters #my if #if wip #all characters #ros #sidekick squad #anon ask #ask #thanks for the ask!#this was so fun to answer

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malumxsubest · 1 year

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* knowing your partner well can potentially make writing a lot easier, repost, do not reblog.

meet the mun. — basics

NAME: loki PRONOUNS: she/her PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: primarily on tumblr, but i also dig discord since it's a huge ass window instead of a small one on desktop. SINGLE / TAKEN: not relevant.

— three facts

i. i've been on tumblr for possibly eleven or twelve ( 11 or 12 ) years; excluding the hiatuses. ii. hella awkward. may be passionate and gush when i get incredibly happy about interacting with other muses that just vibe well with amelia. and vibing well with other muns. iii. will always ( whenever i remember ) send an ask thanking whomever follows me; opening the doors for communication despite being an socially awkward person.

— experience

i first started roleplaying on multiple rp sites since i was a freshman in high school since 2007, i believe. then shifted over to tumblr possibly around 2010??? i cannot remember considering i bounced around multiple blogs and accounts. so i have approximately 16 ( sixteen ) years or so of writing experience. which of course excludes the multiple hiatuses i've been in. ALL IN ALL, i still try my best with writing. despite writing for so long, im still shy and hesitant on my writing considering english is not my strong suit.

— sub-genres

FLUFF: don't get me wrong. amelia is very horrifying and a difficult person to deal with. however, there are moments where she allows herself to be soft. she adores her children very much. and she will always show that soft ( yet also stern ) motherly love to them. when it comes to fluff and softness, it's my favourite. i love the juxtaposition of a horrifying "villain" & cosmic entity just being a bit soft once and a while. especially when she has something to protect. it's the good shit. ANGST: YA KNOW WHEN I SAID I LOVE FLUFF??? well strap on and buckle up because I LOVE ANGST LIKE IT'S AIR. gimme gimme gimme. i find angst hella fun. and i just wanna toss my muse into situations like that for my own enjoyment. let her be soft for a moment but then she will clam up and rapidly build walls around her. not to protect herself, but more so not allowing such human & weak emotions get the best of her. HORROR: she THRIVES in horror. i need more horror friends just so amelia can thrive in that world. let her feast, ravage, torture, and be beautiful in sin. it's a wild ride when it comes to her. horror makes the world go 'round in these parts. so, yes. give me plenty of horror. SMUT: ya know, i don't mind sexual themes or smut when it comes to her. HOWEVER, im not gonna throw her around willy nilly because someone wants her. sure we can jest about it. i prefer the connection between two muses grow naturally. OR we discuss it beforehand. like, i love this stuff like the next person. but do NOT expect it. i don't mind posting it on here or discord. it will always be under read more and tagged accordingly. NOTE: that amelia MUST have romantic feelings with someone in order to do anything of the sort. she must love ( or whatever semblance of love she can conjure ) your muse in order to feel any sexual attraction.

— plots vs memes

it depends. i LOVE memes and use them for ice breakers. hell, even continue the meme/ask to an actual thread. but i also dig plotting. sure i may have the barest idea, but i love brainstorming with a mun to get the ball rolling. if you have an idea, lemme know in DMs :3 MUTUALS only tho.

— long or short replies

oh man. im like 50/50 ( fifty-fifty ) on this. sometimes i write long replies ( which i do my very best one. it's not one of my strong suits but im always trying to push myself ). sometimes i write short replies like a couple of paragraphs. or do some one-liners for quick n easy chatting between our muses.

— best time to write

i prefer writing at night; central time ( cst ). at night, i can just chill with hardly any distractions and music playing in the background for some extra brain activity to get the ball rolling.

tagged by: no one; stole the fuck outta this one tagging: @caracarnn @daevilhorns @merchantofwhispers @traumamade @alyafae @rhaigal @aufhcker @devildungeondm @grcccvy & youuuuuuuu.

#ˢᵘᶰ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ. ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᶠᶠᶤᶰ [ooc]#;; mun

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roniscloud · 3 years

Text

psh - love affair

park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair

so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?

maybe it’s just all in my head, so

don’t overthink, this is love

maybe it’s just a crush

baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?

synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?

genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au.

warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.

i. prologue

if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day.

but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties.

she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.

but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty.

alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.

back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.

ii. the cafe

the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.

a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.

the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available.

in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.

sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.

ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.

he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.

“what are you trying to pull here, park?”

“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”

“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”

“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”

“and why the hell do you think that is?”

“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.

you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.

he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”

“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”

he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face.

by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.

“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”

“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”

“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”

he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”

you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.

“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”

“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”

he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”

you cut him off, “you can say that again.”

“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”

“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”

“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”

again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”

now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”

“you wish.”

his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”

“offense taken… but i see your point.”

“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”

you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”

iii. bro code

a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”

“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.

jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”

“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.

“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”

that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.

later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.

when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.

you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”

“just now. how long were you waiting?”

you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”

“um… almost 11.”

“then like four hours.”

“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.

“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”

he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”

you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”

“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”

“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”

“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”

you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”

“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”

“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.

iv. rated pg

the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles.

you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”

you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”

sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on.

when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”

a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.

you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load.

“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought.

“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”

you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.

he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot.

v. pretty boy

the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.

“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.

heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”

jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”

out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.

jake breaks first, “wait, what?”

heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”

sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.

“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”

“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket,

“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”

he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”

“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”

he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”

vi. jukebox

the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth.

“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”

you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.

“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”

sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.

“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.

“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.

you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”

“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.

you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,

“what took you so long, park?”

right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”

you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”

once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”

you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.

he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.

you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.

sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”

you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”

sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.

“i missed hearing you sing.”

sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”

you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”

“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”

“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.

there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.

sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.

vii. nerds

sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon.

opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”

sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”

“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.

sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”

“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.

definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”

“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.

“you two are such nerds.”

you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.

he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.

heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.

sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”

you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.

behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”

you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”

he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”

“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”

“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”

you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”

he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”

viii. proud

a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.

you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.

thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.

the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.

you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”

“because… it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.

you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.

he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.

when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.

in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.

ix. spring break

it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.

everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side.

you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”

you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.

he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”

everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.

he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.

“what’s got you so lost?”

your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”

just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot.

“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”

“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi.

the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.

you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”

he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is.

that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face.

by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.

the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.

meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.

x. disaster averted

the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.

while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes.

“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”

she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”

“of course! she’s like my big sister.”

his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“what?!”

sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.

the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”

sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.

yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”

you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”

“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.

“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”

she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”

jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”

“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?”

“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”

“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother.

with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”

“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.

you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”

“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”

everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.

xi. returning the favor

fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick.

now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you.

which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.

“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”

he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.

“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.

you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.”

you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”

“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”

he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”

xii. the party

the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing.

yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.

“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”

right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.

“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?”

they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.

you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.

“i figured you would want some space.”

“how’d you know where i was?”

he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”

“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”

“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”

“sunghoon, look-”

“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”

you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”

sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”

you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”

#sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagine #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fic #sunghoon fics #enhypen #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen imagine #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen fics #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunghoon fics #enhypen sunghoon fluff

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aboveallarescuer · 3 years

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#that happens even when the person isnt trying to argue that shes a mad queen/villain but that she has both 'good' and 'evil' in her#and is meant to fail#(e.g. that meta about how dany is a tragic shakespearean hero; which annoys me more bc it sounds convincing when you don't remember what#happened in the books very well...

Can you talk more about your problems with that essay? I thought that it sounded plausible... I don't want those things to happen to Daenerys, but I don't trust GRRM either.

Anon, thank you for this ask and sorry for the delayed answer. I was already planning to write several posts as a response to the arguments of “Daughter of Death: A Song of Ice and Fire’s Shakespearean Tragic Hero” (which you can read here), but I couldn't find the time or motivation for that lately, so thanks for giving me the opportunity to counter-argue it in a single answer. I tried to be brief by summarizing some of my notes and by linking to a lot of metas instead of repeating all of their points, but the response unfortunately ended up becoming long anyway.

In the context of that essay, Dany is considered a Shakespearean tragic hero because the writer thinks she fits five requirements: 1) Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays; 2) Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise; 3) prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany; 4) Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”; 5) Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”.

I would argue that the points that the essayist made to justify how Dany supposedly fits these five requirements are all very skewed.

1) When it comes to requirement 1 (Dany’s chapters contain supposedly deliberate references to Shakespearean plays), the essayist is conveniently cherry-picking (as they often do throughout the meta). Bran Stark wants a dreamless sleep just like Dany: “Sweet, dreamless sleep, Bran thought.” (ACOK Bran I); “That night Bran prayed to his father’s gods for dreamless sleep.” (ACOK Bran II). Indeed, @marinabridgerton argues that that’s most likely tied to the fact that they’re the two characters most heavily associated with prophecies. Even Sansa is said to have a dreamless sleep: “Sometimes her sleep was leaden and dreamless, and she woke from it more tired than when she had closed her eyes” (AGOT Sansa VI). And yet, where are the essays about how these quotes are teaching the readership to interpret Bran’s and Sansa’s characters, storylines and trajectories based on Shakespearean tragedies?

2) When it comes to requirement 2 (Dany is “torn by an internal struggle”, namely peace versus violence or companionship versus rulership or home versus the Iron Throne, all of which also drive the external conflicts. Choosing the second options will lead to her demise), the essayist is right to point out that those dilemmas exist. However, they portray Dany’s struggles in a way that makes it seem that 1) there are “good” options (peace/companionship/home) and “bad” options (violence/rulership/Iron Throne) for Dany to take and that 2) choosing the latter ones will lead to Dany’s downfall. There is a lot to question about these assumptions.

2.1) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between peace versus violence, the essayist takes everything that Adam Feldman’s series of essays “Untangling the Meereenese Knot” says for granted when it shouldn’t be. I’m not going to delve into all the problems/inaccuracies/double standards with those essays. For our purposes here, it’s enough to say that they: 1) dichotomize Dany’s identity into mhysa and mother of dragons to argue that the former represents her desire for peace and the latter her violent impulses; 2) assert that the peace was real; 3) conclude that, by rejecting the peace, the Dany of ASOS is gone and from now on she’s going to be a very different person because she will have chosen to follow her violent impulses.

As already argued before, though, 1) Dany’s character can’t be dichotomized in that way because these facets - mhysa and mother of dragons - actually complement each other (as @yendany made clear in her most recent meta). Because Dany was the mother of dragons, she was able to act as mhysa way before she was hailed as such, which we see, for instance, when she kills the Astapori slave masters to free the Unsullied. Both of these identities manifest Dany’s fierceness when faced with great injustices. This is why, in ADWD, locking her dragon children prevented Dany from properly defending her human children… She needs to integrate both parts of her identity to be able to protect them. But Feldman couldn’t recognize that because 2) he accepts the peace deal that Dany made with the slavers as valid. Doing so would mean, however, ignoring the re-enslavement and suffering of thousands of marginalized people, which GRRM continually emphasizes in Dany's and Tyrion’s final ADWD chapters (read more about this here and here) to hammer home that the peace is false for prioritizing the slavers over them. Finally, 3) Dany is not a violent person nor does she have violent impulses. Feldman decontextualized the moments in which Dany uses violence from the standards of her time and place (read more about this here and here and here and here) to portray them in a more negative light than how they are actually meant to be viewed. Additionally, he conveniently left out all the moments in which Dany chooses to be merciful, from when she spares Yunkai and most of the Meereenese slavers (she didn’t do the same in Astapor because she was outnumbered and needed to protect her retinue) to when she doesn’t punish people who threaten or disrespect her to her face (such an envoy who spits at her face, a boy who tries to attack her, Xaro after he says he wishes he’d killed her), to give a few examples (read more about this in @rainhadaenerys's comprehensive meta). I would argue that Dany’s conflict is less about peace versus violence and more accurately about her tendency to be merciful versus her desire for justice (which, especially in the particular context she finds herself in, is unattainable without violence). In fact, I would go further and say that it’s distasteful to characterize Dany as someone “violent” or with “violent impulses” when, so far, she’s only used violence to a) defend and protect victims of (physical and systemic) violence and/or b) in circumstances in which her actions are no more problematic than those of any other leader of her world. And yet, the essayist portrays them as if they were (“To choose indiscriminate destruction over peace tends toward the evil”).

It’s also convenient that the essayist only talks about fire negatively (“Dany wields unmatched power that can “make or unmake at a word”—Dracarys—villages, armies and kingdoms”, “in the words of Maester Aemon, “Fire consumes.””) when it's also connected to life, rebirth, healing and enlightenment. And dracarys in particular is explicitly associated with freedom by the narrative while Dany frees the Unsullied (her decision, in turn, is associated with her future actions in the War for the Dawn). But acknowledging these things would make it harder to portray Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

2.2) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between companionship and rulership … Again, the dilemma exists, but not in the way that the essayist presents it. What I mean is that they go out of their way to make it seem that Dany’s loneliness was the main factor driving her decisions, such as the liberation of the Unsullied (“She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”)... And not, y’know, her compassion and sense of justice (“Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”), which are rarely acknowledged in this essay even though it’s arguably the main aspect of Dany's characterization. Why does the essayist do that? Because, since they are arguing that Dany is a tragic hero, they need to present Dany’s loneliness both as the reason why she achieved greatness and as the reason that will lead to her demise when she (supposedly) starts distrusting people, closing herself off and choosing violence (“the moral conviction she feels for her abolitionist crusade is part of the greatness that is also her tragic trait [...] She feels for the forced loneliness of the Unsullied, and it is loneliness that convinces her to commit violence in the plaza to free the slaves—just as it is in loneliness she chooses violence amidst the Dothraki Sea.”). As I said, however, doing so requires downplaying Dany’s compassion, as well as ignoring the fact that she does not close herself off to people in ADWD, nor is there any sign that this was seeded as a serious issue for her in future books (especially considering that her governance is meant to be contrasted with Cersei, the character who actually does close herself off to people. But more on that below when I talk about why Dany doesn’t fit the essayist’s third requirement).

Also, singling out rulership in particular as a reason for Dany to feel alone is conveniently selective (“Returning to Westeros means ruling Westeros - and ruling means loneliness”). All the major characters have reasons to feel lonely and isolated in their society because GRRM chose to focus on the underdogs. Their social standings are already enough to make all of them feel alone. As he said, “Tyrion of course is a dwarf which has its own challenges. Dany is an exile, powerless, penniless, at the mercy of other people, and Jon is a bastard”. You can also throw in Arya for being a young girl struggling to adhere to gender norms and Bran for being a disabled child. And that is just one example… There are a myriad of reasons and situations for various characters to feel lonely and isolated, but the essayist specifically chose to talk about how rulership causes that for Dany. And, considering that the essayist thinks that Dany’s rulership -> growing isolation and loneliness -> her ultimate downfall, it really feels like they’re punishing Dany narratively for acquiring and wielding power. Which leads me to the next point...

2.3) When it comes to Dany’s conflict between home and the Iron Throne, I would argue that that’s not really a conflict. Dany (like any feudal leader) believes she needs to retake the Iron Throne to stay in her homeland just like the Starks believe they need to retake Winterfell to stay in their homeland. Whether Dany finds herself at home in Westeros or not is irrelevant to that fact. And yet, the essayist only presents the former as being in the wrong for fighting for her birthright. However, as it's been already explained before, the Starks’ claim to the North isn’t morally righteous. They only have dominance over the North because, for thousands of years, their ancestors fought against, drove away and killed most of its indigenous population (the Children of the Forest), as well as multiple families who were also vying for control over the region. With that in mind, Dany fighting for her birthright isn’t any more problematic than the Starks enjoying the lands and privileges obtained with conquest and bloodshed, as well as the labor of peasants. One could argue that GRRM may have a double standard against Dany in this case (though it's been argued before that he doesn't intend to present the Iron Throne as a source of greed and evil like how fandom presents it) because of the order of the events and depending on whether he holds Dany accountable for more problems for waging her war than the Starks for having done/doing essentially the same thing, but that’s not what the essayist is doing. Instead, they a) take for granted that Dany is doing the wrong thing for fighting for the Iron Throne ("To delay the call of the North and continue to divide an already weakened realm is to give into dark desires.") and b) center all their speculations about her eventual demise based on that belief.

Ultimately, I would argue that none of these three dilemmas - peace versus violence, companionship versus rulership, home versus the Iron Throne - come with easy answers. When it comes to the first conflict, it’s important that Dany prioritizes the lives of the slaves over the privileges of the masters, but that causes more war and bloodshed. When it comes to the second and the third conflicts, it’s worth noting that the first options (which the essayist presents as the “good” ones) are actually the selfish paths for Dany to take. After all, she would rather live a normal life with a husband (companionship) in the house with the red door (home) - “She would rather have drifted in the fragrant pool all day, eating iced fruit off silver trays and dreaming of a house with a red door, but a queen belongs to her people, not to herself”. But, as the quote shows, instead of choosing these selfish goals, Dany accepts the burden of rulership and the fight for the Iron Throne because of her duty towards her people and ancestors. And, while this path leads to war (either in Meereen or in Westeros, though the former is morally righteous and the latter, while not inherently justified, is not any more problematic than Robb fighting for Northern independence), power is also the means through which Dany can make changes that benefit the common people.

With all that said, it’s ironic that Dany fans are often accused of flattening her character or her choices when it’s actually her detractors or “neutrals” (like the essayist) who do so - they are dead set on portraying Dany’s available options as either “good” or “bad” and on speculating that choosing the latter ones will lead to her downfall, but the text actually gives her conflicts in which all the options have their pros and cons.

The essayist also makes a mistake that isn’t really up to interpretation or difference in opinions. They say that, in AGOT Daenerys III, “after admitting this difficult truth [that Viserys will never take back the Seven Kingdoms], Dany assumes the goal for herself (and at the time, her son)”. That is incorrect. In AGOT Daenerys V, moments before Viserys’s death, Dany says she would have allowed him to have the dragon eggs because “he is my brother … and my true king”. Jorah doesn’t think she should still acknowledge him as such, but she tells him that “he is all I have”. So no, Dany hadn’t assumed the goal for herself at that point, she only took over his campaign in her son's name (not hers) after Viserys's death. But the essayist needs to exaggerate Dany's ambition to justify her demise, since they speculate that “in that hurt and betrayal, all that will be left - she will think - is the crown”.

3) When it comes to requirement 3 (prophecies and “influential accidents” - that is, events that “have roots in a character’s motivation”, as well as “the sense of ‘if only this had not happened’” - will “heighten and exaggerate [tragic flaws that] already [exist]” in Dany), the problem is not in cherry-picking or in double standards against Dany, but rather in the essayist’s lack of knowledge about Dany’s characterization. It’s simply not true that Dany’s distrust of people grows to the point that she closes herself off to them. Instead, I would argue that Dany is actually portrayed as someone with a healthy distrust of people. We know from the books (1, 2, 3, 4) that she finds it unlikely that Barristan, Grey Worm or Missandei would ever betray her, but that she doesn’t think she can rely entirely upon Reznak, the Green Grace, the Shavepate, Hizdahr and Daario. Do Dany’s doubts about these people’s intentions lead her to, as the essayist says, “push people away”? No. Through almost all of ADWD, she (wrongly, though understandably) believes that "until [freedmen and former masters stand together, Meereen will know no peace". Accordingly, Dany is willing to listen to the counsel of all of her advisors (both the ones she trusts and the ones she distrusts) to ensure that she makes informed decisions. To give some examples:

Dany allows “well spoken and gently born” people (i.e., not the typical condition of most former slaves, who are glad that Dany freed them) to sell themselves into slavery and imposes a tax each time men chose to do so like how it happened in Astapor (ASOS Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with both Missandei and Daario.

Dany employs the Unsullied to ask the Blue Graces if someone showed up with a sword wound and to ask butchers and herdsmen who’s been gelding goats (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to punish any noble in response to the murder of Stalwart Shield and only increases the amount of gold for whoever gives information about the Sons of the Harpy (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany gives up on banning the tokar and wears it herself (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace.

Dany (rightly) refuses to reopen the fighting pits for a while until she later relents in the name of the peace with the Meereenese nobles (ADWD Daenerys I, II, III, VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr, Reznak, the Green Grace and the Shavepate and agreed with Missandei.

Dany delays the choice of a husband until it becomes necessary later (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and the Green Grace.

Dany chooses to pay the shepherds for the animals that they say their dragons ate (ADWD Daenerys I). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak.

Dany pays Hazzea’s father the blood price (i.e., one hundred times the worth of a lamb) for her death, lays her bones to rest in the Temple of the Graces and promises to pay for his children each year so they shall not want (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany allows the Shavepate to torture the wineseller and his daughters for information about the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate.

Dany imposes a blood tax on the noble families to pay for a new watch led by the Shavepate, takes the gold and the stores of food of any nobleman who wishes to leave the city and keeps two children from each pyramid as hostages instead of letting the nobles go unpunished after nine freedmen were killed by the Sons (ADWD Daenerys II). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Reznak.

Dany has Barristan and Groleo and his captains and sailors to inspect Xaro’s ships (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany chooses not to go to Westeros despite being offered ships to do so (ADWD Daenerys III). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t kill her child hostages despite the Sons’ ongoing attacks (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany agrees to marry Hizdahr if he’s able to give her ninety days of peace in Meereen (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak and disagreed with the Shavepate, Barristan, Missandei and Daario.

Dany refuses to gather the masters and kill them indiscriminately (ADWD Daenerys IV). By making this decision, she disagreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t allow the Shavepate to continue his tortures due to their unreliable results (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr and disagreed with the Shavepate.

Dany refuses to use her dragons in battle (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with Reznak.

Dany decides not to take the field against Yunkai (ADWD Daenerys V). By making this decision, she agreed with the Shavepate and disagreed with Barristan.

Dany brings the food to the Astapori refugees instead of sending someone else to do it (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Reznak, the Shavepate and Barristan.

Dany burns the dead among the Astapori refugees, bathes an old man and shames her men into helping her (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany refuses to allow Hizdahr’s mother and sisters to inspect her womb and to wash Hizdahr’s feet before he washes hers (ADWD Daeneerys VI). By making this decision, she disagreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany decides to marry Hizdahr by Ghiscari rites and to wear a white tokar fringed with pearls (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany allows Hizdahr to reopen the fighting pits (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr, the Green Grace and Reznak.

Dany goes along with a peace agreement with the Yunkish slavers in which she’ll let Yunkai and Astapor reinstall slavery if they leave Meereen intact (ADWD Daenerys VI). By making this decision, she agreed with Hizdahr.

Dany holds court in order to, among other reasons, meet the Westerosi men that came over from the Windblown (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Daario.

Dany doesn’t accept Quentyn’s marriage proposal because she doesn’t want to abandon her people (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany doesn’t ride a horse in a tokar to meet Hizdahr (ADWD Daenerys VII). By making this decision, she agreed with Missandei.

Dany decides not to sound out the Company of the Cats (even though she wanted to) because Barristan says he's untrustworthy (ADWD Daenerys VIII). By making this decision, she agreed with Barristan.

Dany attends the reopening of the pits (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Missandei.

Dany allows the Brazen Beasts to guard her because she wants to show that she trusts them so that her people can trust them as well (ADWD Daenerys IX). By making this decision, she disagreed with Barristan.

Dany prevents Tyrion and Penny from fighting against lions with wooden swords. By making this decision, she disagreed with Hizdahr.

I didn’t include all of Dany’s decisions because she makes many of them on her own and/or without someone explicitly supporting them or opposing them (in fact, many of the ones above were made without any advisor giving her their feedback, but I listed them if they’re seen agreeing or disagreeing with her onpage anyway). That being said, note that Reznak is the one that Dany is most suspicious of (because he perfectly fits the description of one of the treasoners), but that five of her decisions follow his recommendations, in contrast to Barristan (the knight who she actually trusts and who keeps all her secrets) only having his advice followed twice. Also note that Dany “trusted Skahaz more than she trusted Hizdahr”, but she agreed with the former three times and disagreed with him eight times, in contrast to having agreed with the latter four times and disagreed with him twice. The list clearly shows that Dany listens to everyone’s feedback (including from people she distrusts), considers it carefully, makes her own decisions and handles dissent extremely well. Her actions reflect her own words (“A queen must listen to all. [...] One voice may speak you false, but in many there is always truth to be found”, “It seems to me that a queen who trusts no one is as foolish as a queen who trusts everyone”).

There is, however, one character who is seen only listening to people who agree with her and who distrusts and closes herself off to almost everyone - Cersei Lannister. And it’s especially worth noting that Cersei is meant to be “directly contrasted” with Dany, that the author was “doing point and counterpoint” with them and that each of them is meant to show “a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world”. In other words, Dany and Cersei are narrative foils, but Cersei’s traits are being transferred to Dany in this essay.

Also, I could just as easily create an entire narrative about how Sansa will end up closing herself off to people based on what we see on canon. She thought she could trust Joffrey, but she ultimately couldn’t. She thought she could trust Cersei, but she ultimately couldn’t. She trusted Sandor, but he left her. She tried to trust the Tyrells, but they ultimately disposed of her after she was no longer necessary. She tried to rely on Dontos, but he was a disappointment and was ultimately murdered. She doesn’t trust Littlefinger, but she needs to stick to his side because she has no better option. She considered telling the Vale lords her identity, but she doesn’t trust them. All of this feeds into Sansa’s distrust of others and will lead to tragic consequences. Indeed, as Sansa herself says, "In life, the monsters win". I bet that the essayist would find this whole speculation biased considering that they favor Sansa's character. But then, why is only Dany singled out as the one who is going to meet her demise even though it’s made clear that she continues to trust people through and through?

The essayist needs to say that Dany starts distrusting people to an unhealthy degree (“As Dany gains more power, [...] her focus on the treasons causes her to push people away, widening the gap between rulership and companionship”; ”The more power she gains, the greater her isolation and likely her fear of betrayal. The fear of betrayal is, of course, human. But GRRM has stated that he likes to turn dramatic situations up to 11, which is necessary to create the Shakespearean tragic hero. Dany’s fear must be larger than life.”), as well as to judge her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms based on double standards (“Dany’s great sin within the story’s moral order will have been focusing on the war for Westeros against Aegon VI before she turns to the enemy of the North”) compared to the Starks. If they didn’t do so, there wouldn’t be a reason to justify Dany’s demise. If they didn’t do so, the entire speculation that she’s a Shakespearean tragic hero falls apart. But saying that something is true doesn’t necessarily make it true, you need to provide the textual evidence (which they barely do … They assume that the reader will take almost everything they say for granted. After all, since there’s a prophecy foretelling that Dany will be betrayed three times, of course she’s going to distrust people way too much from now on).

There’s also another aspect of Dany’s relationship with prophecies that the essayist portrays inaccurately. They say that “the effect of this prophecy on Daenerys is multifaceted” for “[promising] greatness” (which, along with the also inaccurate statement that “part of Dany’s pursuit of the Iron Throne is born from a sense of destiny”, implies that Dany wants to be great or that she thinks of herself as great, none of which are true) and pushing her “further from the people who surround her”. I already questioned the latter statement, and the former is inaccurate too. After all, Dany has doubts that there are men in Westeros waiting for the Targaryens to return. The birth of the dragons has to do with the fact that Dany was able to put two and two together with clues from dragon dreams and Mirri's words, not because she thinks she's exceptional. Dany is not really sure that the red comet was meant for her. She followed its direction because the other paths weren't reliable and, even in Qarth, she's unsure that it was meant to guide her to success. Then she never thinks about it again. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is surprised when told by Quaithe that she's the reason why magic is increasing in the world and never thinks or brags about it after their interaction. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn't think she won any victories in the House of the Undying, she credits Drogon for burning the Undying Ones. She only allows Jhiqui to add a bell to the end of her braid because "the Dothraki would esteem her all the more for a few bells in her hair". Dany refuses to sit on the throne inside the Great Pyramid's audience chamber and chooses to sit on a simple ebony bench that the Meereenese think does "not befit a queen". Dany refuses the offer to have a statue in her image to replace the bronze harpy in the Plaza of Purification. I'd expect otherwise from someone who thinks they're exceptional. Dany is highly self-critical and, later in ADWD, thinks that she "was as clean as she was ever going to be" after taking a bath because she holds herself accountable for the upcoming slaughter in the opening of the fighting pits. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Dany doesn’t think that the people who came to the reopening of the pits wanted to see her - “it was my floppy ears they cheered, not me”. I'd expect different from someone that thinks they're exceptional. Most of Dany's titles (the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, Azor Ahai, etc) are given to her by other people, they're not self-proclaimed (not that there's a problem if they were, I'm only saying it to reiterate that Dany doesn't think she's exceptional). The ones that she assumes on her own are the ones that anyone who believes in birthright (i.e., everyone in her time and place, regardless of family, regardless of whether they're Targaryens) would assume.

4) When it comes to requirement 4 (Dany will (according to the essayist’s speculations) take actions that produce “exceptional calamity” and her demise will be “her own choice and doing”) … Well, we now enter the realm of speculation. It’s not impossible that Dany “will feel like a villain to the Westerosi, as she burns their villages and crops ahead of a hard winter” in the future. The problem here, once again, is in the double standards. Look at the way the essayist describes the likely reascendance of the Starks in the upcoming books - “With the death of “good” characters like Ned, the injury of innocents and moments such as the Red Wedding, ASOIAF as a story is not concerned with justice. But as the story progresses, we see that the way Ned ruled his people and raised his children contrasts with characters like Tywin and his methods. Much of the North seems to continue to rally behind the idea of the Starks, some with less “honorable” methods than others, while Tywin’s legacy begins to fall apart. Like in Shakespeare’s tragic world, there appears to be an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness that instills a dramatic satisfaction”. Like I said above when I questioned requirement 2, the Starks’ claim to the North is no more justified than Dany’s to the Seven Kingdoms. They have the advantage of having had their rule normalized throughout the thousands of years they ruled the North, but it doesn’t change the fact that, because they’re feudal lords, they still maintain a system rigged in favor of the nobles that promotes social inequality and extreme lack of social mobility. It doesn’t change the fact that there's no righteous form of feudalism. But only Dany is criticized in that sense by the essayist - “By nature, power breeds inequality, when one party has the ability to decide the fate of another. That inequality creates distance. As a queen Dany wields absolute power over the rest of her subjects and her court”. Which is pretty infuriating not only because the Starks are also morally grey in the sense that the essayist describes, but also because GRRM specifically mentioned that Daenerys is the ruler "who wants equality for everyone, she wants to be at the same level as her people". Additionally, if Ned left a legacy that motivated his people to fight against his enemies, so did Dany with the former slaves. But the essayist needs to ignore all of that to paint Dany as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

Even if we don’t take into account what TWOIAF reveals about the Starks’ ancestors, the main story itself often paints House Stark’s actions in a negative light. We see a peasant spitting at the mention of the Starks and saying that things were better with King Aerys II in power. We're told that Northmen looking for Jaime on Edmure’s orders burned a village called Sallydance and were guilty of rape and murder. It’s no wonder that the High Sparrow mentions the wolves along with the lions as threats to the septas. Also, thousands of soldiers died indirectly because of Robb’s decisions, as well as lots of people who remained north and became vulnerable to raping and pillaging due to his inability to hold Winterfell. And finally, when winter comes, the smallfolk will be affected by the actions of the northmen, who (like Dany might do in the future) already helped to disrupt the harvest and to leave the continent short on food. And yet, why is their future success framed as “an order that arcs towards a higher idea of goodness”? Why is Dany the only one who is said to be “giv[ing] into dark desires” by “divid[ing] an already weakened realm” when the Starks (framed as the heroes in the essay) did the same thing? This double standard gets infuriating when one remembers that Dany is the one fighting a war in the name of the disenfranchised (even though she is not connected to them by blood or lands or oath of fealty and doesn’t gain anything by helping them), while the Starks are (and will be, if they want to retake Winterfell) fighting a war because of personal injury (which, sympathetic as it may be, doesn’t justify the damage that they caused to the smallfolk). It gets even more infuriating when, as @rakharo pointed out to me, one remembers that, while Dany is trying to right the wrongs of the Valyrians by ending slavery in Slaver’s Bay, none of the Starks have acknowledged, much less tried to make amends for injustices perpetrated by the First Men against the Children of the Forest. It gets even more infuriating when one remembers that Aegon the Conqueror united Westeros in preparation for the War for the Dawn (something that GRRM himself confirmed), while the Starks’ ancestors conquered the North solely because of their greed. That's why Dany’s story can’t be effective as a tragedy: she’d be punished for starting to do what everyone else was doing after doing more than almost everyone else was doing.

5) When it comes to requirement 5 (Dany “[rose] high in position” and is “an exceptional being”, which sets her apart as a character that fits the mold of the Shakespearean tragedy because her reversal of fortune will highlight “the greatness and piteousness of humanity”), again, we’re in the realm of speculation. But there are some things to question as well. First, the essayist validates the criticisms that Dany “too easily ascends to a position of power” by using them as proof that she’s a tragic character. But that’s not really true, which becomes clear with a few comparisons: the Starks lost their father, mother and older brother throughout the story because of the Lannisters, which Dany also did; but her losses go beyond them: she also lost another brother, her first husband and her first child. The Starks had their direwolves given to them, Dany had to use her intuition and then literally walk into a fire to birth her dragons. Aegon the Conqueror used dragons to take Westeros, Dany conquered three cities without barely using hers. Jon Snow’s conflict in ADWD involves conciliating the Free Folk and the Night’s Watch after he makes decisions favoring the former group, while Dany’s involves conciliating the freedmen and the slavers after she makes decisions favoring the former group, which has a worldwide impact; Jon’s conflict has relatively low stakes (because it hasn’t involved the Others so far), Dany’s conflict leads to “half the world” wanting her dead. As these examples show, Dany suffered more losses than the Starks. Dany had to do a lot more than the Starks to find her animal companions. Dany became a conqueror primarily because of her military strategies and resourcefulness without relying on dragonfire like her ancestor. Dany faced greater opposition than her male counterpart Jon so far. As we can see, gaining power and retaining it has not been easy for Dany at all. Every single one of her accomplishments has been earned. But it sure is interesting that Dany’s supposed future tragedies must stem from her actions, but that her victories aren’t given the proper credit and acknowledged as being a result of what she also did as well.

And then the essayist declares something even more inaccurate: that Dany “overcame each obstacle that came her way” and that “Robb and Jon paid for their mistakes while Dany did not” (which, to the essayist, is evidence that “Dany’s fall is meant to stand in contrast as something grander than just one slip-up”).

First of all, Dany clearly did not overcome every obstacle that came her way. Saying so means ignoring all of her ADWD storyline (and it’s funny how Dany's detractors go from saying that she’s overpowered and hasn’t suffered consequences to accusing her of being a bad ruler precisely because she dealt with the negative consequences of her choices, lol). To recap, Dany had an indirect part in the wars outside Meereen because she left the Yunkish slavers’ wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - multiple city-states and sellsword companies joining forces against her, Astapor’s fall, the pale mare’s outbreak, the emergence of refugees from Astapor outside her city and the upcoming Battle of Fire. Dany had an indirect role in the wars inside Meereen because she left most of the Meereenese slavers alive with most of their wealth intact, which leads to terrible consequences - the Sons of the Harpy’s attacks and dozens of freedmen’s deaths. Additionally, Dany had an indirect role in Hazzea’s death because Drogon was allowed to roam freely and she had no way to train him or her brothers. All these problems culminate in Dany agreeing with a peace deal that, as already explained here, was inherently unjust for prioritizing the slavers over the freedmen. Dany had to learn that, as much as she wants peace and to plant trees, there are situations in which she can’t be merciful because violence really is the only way to achieve justice for the disenfranchised. (On the flip side, that’s one of the reasons why I’m critical of the theory that Dany accidentally burns King’s Landing. When she was merciful, as I just listed, great tragedies occurred (which is fine, it was a realistic exploration of what happens when you abolish slavery and try to do good). When she used fire and blood, great tragedies will occur too? Even though she would be acting just like the Starks or any other feudal lord by fighting for her birthright? The theory narratively punishes Dany in a way that it doesn't do with the Starks, which is why it's no wonder that it was created by someone with Stark/Stannis biases. Additionally, it validates the common belief that Dany is only meant to be a wartime queen, even though she’s already showed that she’s a good peacetime ruler.)

Second, is dying the only way to pay for one’s mistakes (considering that only Robb and Jon are listed as examples of characters who did)? I don’t think so. Consider Sansa. Didn’t she pay for the mistake of going to Cersei to tell her of Ned’s plan? I would say she did. I would say the author agrees - “Sansa was the least sympathetic of the Starks in the first book; she has become more sympathetic, partly because she comes to accept responsibility for her part in her father's death”. Similarly, Dany had to accept her indirect responsibility for the tragedies that I just listed (Hazzea, forgive me; No marriage would ever bring them back to life, but if a husband could help end the slaughter, then she owed it to her dead to marry.; “I should’ve gone to Astapor. [...] I am the queen. It was my place to know.”; “What kind of mother has no milk to feed her children?”). I would argue that Dany and Sansa both paid for her mistakes, which were acknowledged, made them suffer and influenced their character developments. But the essayist needs to say that Dany didn’t pay for them (or that she had an easy rise to power) to help to paint her as a Shakespearean tragic hero.

6) Now that the essayist’s five requirements have all been questioned, I would also like to mention positive prophecies and speculations related to Dany that are never brought up in this essay.

First, Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW. That was heavily foreshadowed (read more about it here) and built up to and, if it doesn’t happen, it frankly would be bad writing. After all, haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of Ned’s death (e.g., a stag having killed the mother direwolf in the beginning of AGOT)? Haven’t readers praised GRRM for the foreshadowing of the Red Wedding (which we see from Tyrion’s to Theon’s to Dany’s chapters)? And yet, the essayist thinks that Dany’s death will cause “the forces [to] become more even, making victory less sure, or the Others surpass the side of the living in strength” and that “the White Walkers gain Drogon, becoming one-on-one but with the White Walkers having the larger dragon.”

Second, Dany and Bran both have dreams in AGOT leading up to their magical awakening. Bran needs to fly to escape from the “cold” of the darkness below, while Dany needs to run from the “icy breath behind”. Both of these dreams culminate with Bran and Dany learning to fly and accepting their magical destinies, which will be important in the War for the Dawn. And yet, the essayist thinks that “by understanding that the concept of warmth is tied to companionship, we can understand that the cold, “icy breath” must represent the opposite: loneliness” to justify Dany’s demise. Instead, it's clear (especially considering the parallels with Bran) that "icy breath" is an allusion to the Others. But they can't acknowledge that Dany will have a crucial role in the War for the Dawn, otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Third, Quaithe was presented as the third of the three Qartheen envoys (after Pyat Pree and Xaro) that came to find Dany in Vaes Tolorro, which heavily implies that she breaks the norm and is the one person that Dany can trust. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Quaithe’s “narrative connection to betrayal is already established”.

Fourth, Dany might as well be the prophesied betrayer, not the one who’s betrayed by three people (after all, she’s already been betrayed by more than three people - Jorah, Mirri, Pyat Pree, Xaro, Brown Ben, the person that gave her the poisoned locusts, etc). It would fit with the pattern of Dany being an active participant in the prophecies rather than a passive one (e.g. Dany is AA/PTWP, not the one who gives birth to the AA/PTWP or the one who dies as a sacrifice to AA/PTWP) even though, at first, the readership is expected to think otherwise. And yet, the essayist takes for granted that Dany will be betrayed because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

Fifth, Dany is foreshadowed to have a positive relationship with Jon because “the blue flower” from the “wall of ice” filled the air with “sweetness”. And yet, the essayist needs to say that Dany "[will push] Jon away [...] from fear of betrayal and hurt” and from worries that he might be a “usurper” (nevermind that they are mischaracterizing Dany as someone overfocused on retaking the Iron Throne and who closes herself off due to prophecies, none of which are not true, as I already showed above) because otherwise their entire speculation falls apart.

7) Finally, I would also like to ask: what’s the point of giving Dany a storyline like this? Not only because it would be unearned due to the double standards and the changes that would have to occur in her characterization, but also because Dany has a special place in the narrative. She is 1) one of the two women (along with Asha) claiming power in her own right and the only one that we actually got to see rule, 2) one of three Chosen Ones (along with Bran and Jon) and the only female one, 3) one of two POV revolutionaries (along with Jon) and the only female one (and the one whose storyline arguably has the most political messages since she’s fighting against human slavery), 4) one of two POV female rulers (along with Cersei) and the only one who’s been depicted as competent (because she subverts the Good Princess Evil Queen dichotomy), 5) one of two Targaryen conquerors (three, if Young Griff does indeed take Westeros) and the only female one - “Aegon the Conqueror with teats”, 6) the only major mother who isn’t sure to be doomed and/or hasn’t gone mad, 7) one of two Targaryen queens regnant (along with Rhaenyra) and the only remaining Targaryen woman who gets to have power after a long line of Targaryen women - Rhaenyra herself, but also Rhaena, Aerea, Rhaella, Daenerys (Alysanne’s daughter), Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was, Baela, Rhaena of Pentos, Daena - who were disempowered. GRRM already has a terrible history with female leaders in particular. If he causes the downfall of another one (especially one who is also one of the five main protagonists) for such unearned reasons like the ones that the essayist laid out, there would also be sexist implications. It would make the only she-king that we saw wielding power onpage overly defined by violence and destruction in a way kings don't have to be depending on their actions, it makes the only competent POV female ruler look incompetent in comparison to the other POV male rulers and it makes her conquest a disaster while the other male Targaryen conqueror (two, if Young Griff takes Westeros) gets to succeed. And yet, death by childbirth is the only speculation that the essayist calls out as problematic (“death by childbirth is a uniquely biologically female phenomenon and would be punishing Daenerys for her sexuality”).

8) What I find insidious about essays like this one is that they pretend to be unbiased (I do not argue for the death of Daenerys as a judgement on her ethical/moral goodness as a character nor of the world she inhabits. I argue it on the strength of her characterization and story, that she should be able to encompass such intensity and greatness as to be considered as complex as all these other single-name headliners in literature.) even though they really aren't. To recap, the essayist portrays Dany as someone with "violent" impulses even though she's a merciful person in general, accepts the peace deal with the slavers as valid even though it prioritizes the slavers' privileges over the lives of marginalized people, only talks about the negative connotations of fire, downplays Dany's compassion and sense of justice, argues that Dany is losing her ability to trust others even though she isn't, says that Dany is negatively affected by promises of greatness even though she isn't, argues that Dany had an easy rise to power and didn't pay for her mistakes even though she did, paints Dany's campaign to take the Iron Throne in a negative light without doing the same with the Starks having dominance over the North and ignores Dany's foreshadowing as AA/PTWP, as well as her special place in the narrative. So it’s not that Dany stans are unable to accept Dany’s mistakes and flaws, it’s that people who dislike her can’t understand her characterization or acknowledge the double standards against her or accept her particular place in the story. At the end of the day, an essay like this one is no better than jonsa metas mindlessly hating on Dany because, just like them, as @semperty and @niniane17 made clear, it also creates speculations with the intent of making Dany self-destruct and become irrelevant to pave the way for their preferred characters. The only difference is that it's more successful at appearing "neutral" to someone who doesn't remember what happened in the books very well, especially because Dany has become a polarizing character for a variety of reasons and it's easy to buy into the Appeal to Moderation fallacy.

Also, as I said before, the fact that these Twitter 'neutrals' all misunderstand Dany's characterization, downplay her struggles and judge her by different standards actually makes me somewhat hopeful that she's getting a better ending, because how can their speculations come true if they don't know Dany at all? But then, it's hard to trust GRRM.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #answered

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

tozier • stanley uris

(stan x tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here’s my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: semi-public sex, oral (fem receiving), stan teasing the reader a lot, some dirty talk? i think thats it. also a tiiiiny bit of exhibitionism i guess at the end. very unedited

part 6 of the tozier series [ i ii iii iv v ]

(losers and reader are 20+ and in college in this)

4.1k words

♡

the door opened and closed downstairs as you towel dry your hair, the fog of the scorching shower you'd just endured fogging your mirrors. you frown as you wipe a line through the mirror and your eyes stare back at you for a split moment before the fog reclaims the image and you sigh.

pulling yourself together, you unlock the door and start to walk towards your room on the other side of the house. as you pad towards your room, a throat clears and you jump a bit, eyes landing on stan from where he stands at the bottom of the stairs. he's grinning, "hey, y/n." he says gently, eyes staying on your face. your face goes warm, "hi, stan. um - richie's- i don't know where richie is," you start, looking around.

richie rounds the corner as if he's been summoned, brushing his teeth as he itches his side. you hiss, "stan's here. why didn't you tell me he was coming over?"

it's quiet enough that the boy down the stairs can't hear you and richie narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"calm down, it's just stan. he's the only one here for dinner tonight. the others won't be here 'till sometime after. why d'you ask?" he asks, his mouth covered in spit and toothpaste. you wrinkle your nose at his poor hygiene but gesture to your frame, wet and covered with only your towel.

richie fixes you with an eye roll, "believe me, nobody is interested in you like that. especially stan. you're just self obsessed, y/n, it's embarrassing for you. not everyone wants to fuck you. i'm pretty sure nobody does." he says with a slight glare. "just because you're into my best friend doesn't mean he's into you."

you shove richie immediately, your eyes catching a glimpse of light brown curls as they zip around the balcony, disappearing. you wish he hadn't heard that. “fuck you, richie. why do you try to embarrass me? i hate you.”

a moment later, your mom is calling your names. "richie, y/n! stan's here for dinner!"

you're furious and the look you send richie as you turn to escape to your room burns through his skull. you're flustered as you get ready for dinner, pulling on your clothes with bright red cheeks. your mind goes to the party you'd all gone to the other week - the night that you and bill had hooked up.

you can't believe you've almost done it. you've slept with five of richie's best friends, and he doesn't even know yet. the boy downstairs comes to your mind and you sigh, thinking back to when he'd teased you at the party, when you'd sat on his lap to the quarry the other day, when he'd slid his foot against your leg under the table the the other night while you were all eating....

the butterflies in your stomach won't go away. plus, it's stan - and for some reason that seems different than the rest of them....

you find your way to the dining room, eyes meeting stan's. he grins from where he's sat, playing with the bottle of beer in front of him, your father having offered him a modelo. "hi, y/n." he says in greeting, giving you a smirk. you smile back, "hi, stan."

"that skirt looks great." he says, "kind of too bad you changed."

and you clear your throat just as your dad and richie walk into the room, hands full of plates of food. you're red, hoping they hadn't heard. what the hell has gotten into stan?

after that, dinner went by without much issue besides you and richie getting into a fight until your father forced you two to calm down.

now, the losers are over and bev is insisting someone go get ice cream from the store so you can all watch a movie with sundaes. "stan the man, you should go." mike says with a grin, causing stan to flip him off with a bored face. your eyes catch on his hands and you can't help but let your mind wander...

"why?" stan asks. eddie shrugs, "you do drive the fastest."

the others laugh and you smile at the ground a bit in amusement. "fine. i get to pick the flavors, though."

the protests from the others echo in the room and you roll your eyes, "just promise to get vanilla?" you ask, and stan looks at you. "what, you're a vanilla girl?" he asks. the others are buzzing in the background about their favorite flavors, but the intense look on stan's face makes you grin. "n-no, promise i'm not a vanilla girl." you say, lifting a brow. he's smirking full-on. "i just know eddie is." you add, and stan laughs. his smile gives you butterflies and eddie nods, "uh, yeah, it's objectively the best flavor, because then you can-"

he's ranting now, and stan shakes his head with an eye roll as he stands up and flips his keys around his fingers. "i'll be back quick."

"why don't you take your little girlfriend with you?" richie teases, gesturing to you. you throw him a glare. "fuck off, richie. y/n, get over here." stan says, nodding his head and gesturing for you to follow him out the door. it's so quickly that stan agrees to have you come along that some of the others share a look, making your stomach burn. he gives one more pissed off look to richie before he leaves the room, and so you awkwardly follow him out to richie's car.

it's a quick drive to the store. finally, you’re back in richie's car with several different ice creams in your hands. you and stan mostly joke the whole time, until you slide into his car again and fall into a moment of silence.

"it's always been funny to see richie say all this bullshit about you in front of me." stan breaks the silence, and you look at him in surprise. he shrugs, eyes still on the road. "not funny that he's an asshole, but it's just amusing. that he thinks i'm not attracted to you."

your stomach drops just as fast as your jaw does at stan's words. "oh, y-you..." you try to act casual. "what?" you ask then, trying to understand what he means. he laughs a bit, jaw tilting back and glinting in the afternoon light. "c'mon, y/n. look at yourself." is all he says, shaking his head as his eyes drag up your figure before returning to the road.

you stare at him, butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your thighs clenching.

"i know you like me, remember? since what, fifth grade?" he says with a cheeky grin, eyebrows lifting in a tease. you let out a breath, the butterflies thumping in your chest. "god, stan. that's not funny."

"why?" he asks, his voice deep as he sets the car towards your house again, the ice cream at your feet. "that joke is so old." you whisper, looking at stan. he raises his brows, "is it?"

"yes." you say firmly, but you feel your resolve breaking. he hums, shaking his head but not speaking.

it's quiet besides the song playing on the radio quietly - every little bit hurts by brenda holloway - and you pretend not to feel your heart flutter in affection as you hear stan sing along under his breath.

he's driving with one hand on the wheel, one down on the shift. "you know, you don't need to have your hand there. this isn't a manual." you say, changing the subject and gesturing to his stray hand.

he laughs and it ignites something very deep inside of you. "i'm so used to shifting gears. force of habit, i guess."

"richie's an idiot, he can't even drive manual." you say, shaking your head.

"yeah, but sometimes there's benefits to richie being incapable of driving anything but automatic." he says, his hand falling softly to hold onto your bare thigh. you grip the side of the car door tighter, unable to take his teasing anymore.

stan's pulling into your driveway, and so you turn to him. "why are you teasing me? did someone tell you something?" you ask. what if one of the losers squealed and told him that you fucked them all? he sighs, putting the car in park and looking at your eyes.

"what? i'm not joking around. you just look so hot in that skirt." he admits with a light laugh and red cheeks.”if i’m making you uncomfortable, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to at all, i just really want you.”

it’s honest and bold, just the way stan usually is, and you swallow thickly. he really wants you? "prove it, then." you say, eyes locking with his, his hand squeezing your bare thigh.

two minutes later, you're laying down in the backseat as it’s parked in your driveway, stan on top of you sucking the skin on your neck.

“you want to do this right now? even though we could get caught?” you say breathlessly, hands tangled in his hair. "when else?" he says, staring at your lips. your stomach drops a bit, but you don't let it bother you too much as you have stan between your legs in the backseat.

"then let's go, uris." you say, pulling him down by the neck in desperation. he smirks into the kiss, kissing you so deeply you see stars.

"you think it'd be hot if i fuck you in his car, huh?" he whispers quietly in your ear. your eyes roll back as his fingers rub tight, teasing circles over your core, a fire slowly being lit. you only whimper a bit, biting your lip. "y-yes. we don't have time, th-though-" you gasp then, as he slips a finger into you.

he still watches you intently, listening as if nothing was abnormal as he pumps his finger, curling it and making you whimper as you try to spit out your words. it makes you turn bright red. "the ice cream- it'll melt, they'll know." you say through a moan, eyes shutting as he pumps his finger in and out of you teasingly.

"richie says it...t-tastes different after-" you moan, "-after it's been too melted."

"he's full of shit." stan pulls back, finger still teasing you. your chest raises and falls quickly, feeling flustered and desperate. stan smirks, "plus, i want to taste you first."

your throat gets dry. "p-please." you say, cheeks feeling hot with need. the windows are starting to fog up in the car he's parked on your driveway as he slowly slides the underwear down from your legs, kissing the skin as he goes. you're breathing shakily and then he's bringing his eyes up to you before lifting up your skirt and bringing his head under, your eyes rolling back to stare up at the lights in the back of the car that richie and bev had strung up one night.

you gasp in pleasure as you feel stan's tongue dart out and lick a bold, flat stripe up your heat. "fuck," you whisper, your hands moving from gripping the seat you've laid on to pulling up your skirt to lace your fingers through his hair. he swirls his tongue around your clit and you tense, the feeling of pleasure unlike anything you've felt before.

you wonder if it's because you could get caught by richie at any moment, or because it's in richie's car, or just because it's stan.

his hands snake up to hold your waist as he starts to move his tongue, holding you down so you can’t buck your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin that's revealed between your top and your skirt.

“stan.” you whimper, back arching and yelping as he slips a finger inside you. he hums around your clit and your toes curl, gasping and whining as he pumps into you and curls his finger. his name falls from your lips like a prayer and you can almost feel his smirk against you as his tongue starts to work circles.

his hand still presses against you as you buck your hips, your legs wrapping over his shoulders. he pulls away slightly, lips glistening as he smirks up at you. “you're perfect, y/n.” he mutters, making you moan, legs squeezing around his head. he smirks at you, finger coming up to rub at your clit slowly as he brings his tongue to thrust into you.

you squeeze his hair lightly as you whimper, the feeling euphoric as your toes curl. his name falls from your lips every few seconds as he ruthlessly eats you out, the coil in your stomach about to release. “stan, please, i’m gonna cum.” you mutter, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

“not yet.” he says, jaw set as he pulls back, meeting your eyes. you whimper at the loss of stimulation, looking at him in shock. his hand comes up to grip your jaw softly, and he kisses you sweetly. "i want you to forget about everything and everyone besides me." he whispers against your lips.

chills run down your spine - does he know about the others? there's no way stan knows.

you nod, biting your lip as you watch him move back down between your legs, this time slipping two fingers into you and rubbing your clit with his thumb. "how's that feel?" he mutters, and you feel like you're on fire. "fuck- stan, so good. feels s'good." you mutter. he hums, sinking back down to suck and toy with your clit, fingers curling expertly and making your stomach tense as you try not to cum.

"stan, please, please, please-" you start to beg, arm coming to your forehead as you shake. he hums against your clit and you moan loudly - loud enough that if someone were passing by the car they'd certainly know - and clench around his fingers. "no need to beg, y/n." he says cockily, eyes glinting with pride. "cum for me."

you're shaking and moaning his name as you finally hit your high, the best orgasm you think you've ever had. your breathing stutters as he laps you up with his tongue gently, other hand soothing your hair. your eyes are pressed shut as you clench through your high. "fuck, stan." you whimper.

he's pulling himself to sit up and bringing his fingers to his mouth to clean them off, looking at you with an almost questioning look. it makes you feel like putty.

"i think you need to get eaten out more often, babylove." is all he says before he opens the door, adjusting his pants, slipping your underwear into his pocket, and grabbing the ice cream. "or at least by someone who knows what they're doing."

you're speechless as you gather yourself, smoothing your hair and sliding from the back of the car on shaky legs. stan turns to walk towards the front door but you shove him quickly against the hood, kissing him deeply. you taste yourself faintly on his soft lips, and his free hand comes to grip you, squeezing your ass as he kisses you back. you pull back, "give me my underwear." you order. he shrugs, "you’ll be fine without them, won't you tozier?"

your jaw drops. "it's like you want richie to find out." you say, giving him a slight glare despite the intense butterflies in your gut. he grins at you, pecking your nose. "so what if he does? doesn't change the fact that i'd do it again."

and then he's pulling you by the hand gently towards the house and you're stumbling behind him with red cheeks and jello legs.

jesus christ, that just happened.

"goddamn, what made you take so long?" richie mutters as you and stan walk back into the room, stan’s hand leaving the small of your back after pinching your ass slightly. you clear your throat. "the self check out line was so long." you respond.

"whatever. i'm hungry. where's the ice cream?" richie asks, the others in the room all looking at you. stan moves to sit next to bill on the couch.

"it's in the freezer. it softened up on the way back." stan says, seemingly disinterested. his passiveness makes your throat dry. why was that so hot?

"it's a three minute drive." richie says, sitting back down. you follow suit, sitting on the floor and grabbing a blanket, wary of the fact that you're sitting with 7 people who, if looking, might catch that you're not wearing your underwear. that stan has your underwear.

"okay. guess we just hit a road bump." stan says, picking his nails. bev snorts at that, and ben's grinning. you huff a laugh, too. it's funny when stan's rude to richie.

"bet y/n's just happy she got to spend time with you. she was probably drooling over you the whole time, huh?" he says as if you're not there.

"richie, what's your problem?" you spit. he looks at you, "so defensive." he laughs. bev rolls her eyes, "you're the one who's always teasing her, richie. ease up."

"what, are you two girlfriends now?" richie says, still on his cocky attitude. you glare.

"no, we're not. but we did fuck." bev says casually, staring at richie with a serious look. richie rolls his eyes, "okay, don't joke about fucking my sister. off-limits."

"what?!" you yelp, standing up quickly, adjusting your skirt with a red face. thank god it's not too short. stan smirks as he sees you adjust your skirt, but all richie's friends are staring at him and you. "you have to be kidding, richie. you are such a fucking hypocrite."

he rolls his eyes, "cecily and you aren't even that close anymore!" he defends. "yes, because of you!" you yell. “it’s too late, anyways. i think we’re even.” you add with a grin.

“just get over it. and stop trying to say you fucked my friend, it sounds desperate. as if any of them would settle for you." richie snarls, smirking as if he's proud of what he'd said.

it makes you smirk, shaking your head. if only he knew.

"richie, i don't think she's joking." ben speaks up. everyone's eyes turn to ben, and your heart pounds as you bite your lip. you look at each of the others quickly - ben's gnawing on his lip and looking at richie uncertainly, mike is staring at the ground in thought, eddie's staring at his lap with an amused smirk, bev is smirking between the two boys with her eyebrows raised, and bill is looking at ben with a small look of realization.

your eyes land on stan, who's staring back at you intently, a suggestive look on his face as he tugs a small part of your underwear from his front pocket as he thumbs it with his finger. you send him an intent look back, trying to beg him not to do it.

when you look at richie, he's shocked, mouth agape. "what?" richie says quietly.

"you fucked my best friend. it was only fair." you say with a shrug, smiling at him. he looks like he might punch you.

you stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but failing. richie looks furious as he walks up to you, the two of you standing in the middle of the make-shift circle the losers formed in the living room. he’s breathing heavy, face red. you don't think he’s ever looked so furious in his whole life.

"which one?" he says through a clenched jaw, looking quickly over each of their faces, all of them smirking back slightly. you can’t help your own smirk or the shrug.

"all of them."

part VII coming soon

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @melinda-weasley @ruefulposts

#stanley uris smut #stanley uris x reader #losers x reader #losers club x reader #richie tozier x reader

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heyaeolus · 3 years

Text

Control Freak Tendencies II

With: Atsumu Genre: fluff to angst Warnings: toxic boyfriend traits, allegations of cheating

Atsumu is a beautifully wrapped insecure gremlin underneath a sheet of glamour and beauty. That was what you learned over the years of staying with him.

Whenever Osamu meets you whether intentionally or unintentionally, Atsumu goes into high security mode. It was petty, given that Osamu is taken by another woman himself.

The other insecurity button is held by your high school friend Kageyama Tobio. You could still remember the time Atsumu almost broke your TV when Tobio came in a talk show dubbed as the nation's best setter.

But you didn't exactly think those insecurities would show up in public. Let alone an event for the celebration of the V. League's end

The first time you felt Atsumu's hand creep against the back of your neck was when you were having a friendly conversation with a reporter. Your boyfriend, even though smiling at the reporter, has an intense gaze which scared off the other.

“Mind if I take my girlfriend?” the question was not intended to be answered. Instead it served as a warning to the reporter. You could just feel the tension choking you so you chose to wave the reporter goodbye, pulling your boyfriend towards the rest of his team.

“Did you just seriously —”

You were halted by the feeling of Atsumu's icy lips against your warm ears, his voice as cold as his lips when it reached your ears. “Don't ever dare to look at anyone but me and the team.” You were bewildered by his words. Look? Does he mean you were checking out on others? Just what does he think of you?

“What do you —” before you could even ask what he meant, he was headed to somewhere else with a pretty smile on his face like nothing happened.

How could he drop something like that and act unbothered by it? As if he didn't impose that you were cheating on him? Your blood was boiling as you stood there, terribly alone in the crowded place. It took a while before you noticed someone was calling you from a distance.

Tobio's face surfaced in the swarm of people before you. Judging his face, he doesn't want to be weaving through the crowd either just to get ignored by you. “Are you fine? I thought you were frozen or something,” he frowned at you when he got to stand beside you. You hid your pain behind a smile, “It's nothing. Maybe it's the lack of sleep catching up on me.” He simply shook his head at you before looking around. You know who he is searching for, his forever nemesis, “Hinata's in the backstage. He's preparing for something with Bokuto.”

“Ah, what a waste of effort,” he groans. He is probably thinking of challenging the orange-haired ninja into another petty competition.

You know what —”

“Hi honey,” Atsumu cut through what you were saying. And you could instantly tell he hasn't dropped his attitude since he left you earlier. Tobio's eyes turned stoic upon seeing your boyfriend, as if on guard.

Atsumu's hand gripped your wrist tightly it made you silently wince. “Tobio, sorry, gotta say something to your friend,” he chuckles, although it sounds awfully dark before he is tugging you with him to the exit.

You yelped, feeling his grip tightening as he mumbles, “I told you, no talking to others. But you still can't do that!”

You were relieved you were out in the parking lot so soon or else you wouldn't be able to pry your hand off so harshly from Atsumu's grip and shout at him, “STOP YOU IDIOT!”

His eyes widened at what you called him. You can't fathom if it was realization or shock in his expression until he opens his mouth. “What? You want to see those guys again? Why do you keep on talking to them? Do you really want to get rid of me?”

You scoffed, “Is that what you take me for then? Someone who would cheat on you?” When he didn't answer, you know it was finally sinking into him. What he did and what he made you look like. The pettiness of it all. “Wow Atsumu, maybe I should've taken Tobio's warning after all.” You turned your back to him and began to run as fast as you could. As far as you can be from him.

Atsumu has called you twenty times by now. His phone relentlessly ringing inside his car as he scanned the streets hoping he would catch you. It was raining so you must have stopped somewhere, right? To add to that, all your stuff is inside his car. Where could you have gone without anything but your phone?

He had gone to all the convenience stores around the venue but you were nowhere to be found so he is aimlessly driving around now, hoping he would catch a glint of you.

The pelter was no help, getting heavier as the night deepened. What if you were truly sick of him now? What if, this time, you decided to call Tobio instead of him? Just when he ended another attempt to call you, his phone rang flashing your name. He swerved to the side of the street and took his phone in his hand in an instant.

Worry made him talk the moment he had his phone against his ears, "Where are you?"

It was silent for a moment, only the rain could be heard in the line. When you finally talked, your voice was shaky — you were shivering.

Atsumu shuts his eyes tight in frustration. He has to calm down or you wouldn't talk. So he breathes out then pleads, "Angel, please, at least let me take you home. After that, I can sleep over at Samu's if I need to."

He hears you hiccup on the other side of the line and his heart wrenches at the sound. He made you cry. "I'm at the... the shed at the fo-fourth street from the venue. Infront of this souvenir shop," you murmur weakly.

He doesn't need to be told twice because he was zooming off to your direction the moment he pictured where you are. It didn't take him a minute to see you, standing in the shed, completely soaked in the rain. He takes the umbrella from the back and takes off his jacket.

You look completely broken and hopeless as he approaches you. It made his heart heavy knowing he caused this. He choked on his words before you, "I'm... I'm really sorry, babe." He wraps you in his jacket, careful not to touch you, afraid that it will trigger you to run away again.

"You are?" you ask mockingly, he notes.

"Babe," he whines, "Please. I'm really sorry. I-I really am. I know I'm so fucked up and I don't deserve you, and telling you off like that isn't going to solve my problems. I'm sorry you had to get soaked in the rain first before I realized my mistakes."

You sneeze then, cutting off the ice between the two of you. And when he gazes at you, he sees the slight smile in your lips and his heart stills with relief. A second later you were both laughing at each other like lunatics.

He pouts before hugging you, "I'm really sorry."

"If you are, you would make me hot chocolate," you tell him as your cheeks get squished against his chest, soaking his shirt as well. He breaks the hug as he nods, wrapping an arm around you just to ensure you wouldn't get soaked any further as he guides you to the car.

When he sits on the driver's seat, he looks at you, all serious and asks, "How about a hot 'Tsumu?"

#miya atsumu #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #atsumu x y/n #aeolus flurry #aeolus scripts

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bloededhoine · 3 years

Text

world building cause twn doesn't part 12: the hen ichaer

i realize i've been mentioning the hen ichaer without really explaining it, and for that i apologize. but without further ado, let's go

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

series masterpost

general

the hen ichaer is basically a magical gene that originated with the elven sorceress, scholar, and princess, lara dorren aep shiadhal

it can lie dormant or inactive for generations, but when someone is an activated carrier of the gene, they are called a source

sources have an insane capability for magic, it's so intense that without instruction they are a huge danger to themselves and/or others. remember pavetta's betrothal feast? hurricanes should not happen indoors

same thing with ciri's sonic scream.

obviously, the hen ichaer is highly weaponize-able, but it's difficult to put this into theory since the magic is so strong that it can easily kill the person who carries it

most important is that the hen ichaer can open ard gaeth, the gates between worlds. you may remember that the witcher is a multiverse, and the continent is just one of countless worlds

aen elle

the aen elle, elves who live in another world called tir ná lia, controlled at least one gate that they used to get slaves from other worlds

however, this was before the hen ichaer was seriously studied. unicorns are also capable of opening ard gaeth, and were present in tir ná lia, so the aen elle would kidnap them to be used as their world-hopping-genocide key. yeah, the aen elle are seriously fucked

the king of the aen elle was named auberon muircetach, and he was very well known for his wars with the unicorns, who weren't too keen on being enslaved for the purpose of conquering other worlds

the hen ichaer came into play when auberon noticed that his daughter, lara dorren, had pretty intense magical abilities. like, ard gaeth opening abilities.

auberon, lara, and a few other elves began studying the gene and trying to figure out how it works and how to use it.

through this study is how we got the title aen saevherne, which is used to distinguish an elven mage with extensive knowledge of history, science, magic, and, most importantly, the elder blood.

both lara and auberon were aen saevherne, as was lara's husband-to-be, avallac'h, and avallac'h's foster son, caranthir ar-feiniel

ithlinne's prophecy

ithlinne aegli aep aevenien was an elven prophet known for her incredibly dark prophecies that she delivered at totally random times. how dark were they? ithlinne's prophecies were almost exclusively about the death of all humanity and/or the end of the world. she was fun at parties.

anyway, when we talk about ithlinne we really only mean one specific prophecy, aen ithlinnespeath. to be confusing it's usually referred to as ithlinne's prophecy

here's the prophecy itself:

Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame. Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves...

what does that mean? well, the white chill (aka the white frost) is a massive ice age that has been approaching the continent for years. don't believe me? the white frost has destroyed countless worlds in the past, and it literally cannot be stopped. the only way to save the world is by the power of the hen ichaer.

here's a perfectly frightening visual of the white frost

ithlinne didn't elaborate on the how, but we now know that the only to survive the white frost is by finding a new world and massively evacuating the continent through ard gaeth, which can only be opened by the power of the hen ichaer.

genetics

clearly, the hen ichaer is important enough to literally save, or end, the world, but the aen elle did a famously terrible job of studying it. like, you'd think they'd be good at that, but no. to their credit, it is a bit complicated

first, there are multiple types of elder blood genes, the main gene, the latent gene, and the activator gene. to actually show the powers of the hen ichaer, someone would need to either have one latent and one activator, or the main gene.

let's go back to secondary school biology for a second, remember punnet squares? these fuckers

the letters in a punnet square represent a genotype, or the two alleles that are inherited from the parents. phenotypes, on the other hand, are what you see on the outside. for example, a genotype would be Aa but a phenotype would be brown eyes.

while the main gene is a simple dominant allele (shown by a capital letter on a punnet square), both the latent and activator genes are semi-dominant, meaning that when they meet they create a new phenotype: the innate magical ability that makes you a source.

it gets a little less scientific here so bear with me; this new phenotype is so powerful that it sometimes creates a whole new genotype. so instead of having one activator gene and one latent gene, the two would merge and you'd be left with only one (very powerful) main gene. this is the only single gene that actually has magic and it's a dominant gene, so you only need to have one to have the power.

but, the latent and activator genes don't always combine. you still have the full powers when they stay separate, but it is then less likely to pass the hen ichaer your children.

complicated? very much so. but in practice it's a lot easier.

for simplicity's sake i'll call the activator gene g/a, latent gene g/L, main gene g/m and a regular nonmutated gene g/r. to be a source, the genes you inherit would be g/a g/L, but they may combine to be just g/m. your average person would be g/r g/r and a carrier would be either g/a g/r or g/L g/r.

clearly, this makes tracking it pretty messy, since generations of people can be carriers without having a single source

tracking the hen ichaer

for now, let's do what those elven sages couldn't and track then hen ichaer, starting with lara dorren

eventually, lara met an exceptionally talented human mage, cregennan of lod, and they were lab partners (oh my god they were lab partners) in the study of the hen ichaer.

for all the studying, lara and cregennan's own genes have always been something of a mystery. elven mages don't tend to have any issues with using themselves as lab rats, so it's entirely possible that lara and cregennan, knowingly or not, mutated their own genes in their research.

ultimately, it doesn't matter what lara and cregennan's genes originally were. by some happy little accident, the two eventually ended up with at least one activator gene and at least one latent gene between them.

later, when lara and cregennan made their own happy little accident, riannon, she inherited one of each gene (g/a g/L), making her a source. however, riannon's genes did not combine as the elves expected, which made her a little harder to study.

riannon eventually met king goidemar of temeria (g/r g/r), and they had two children named fiona and amavet. i'll start with fiona, who the aen elle managed to figure out had the latent gene, making her g/L r

fiona ended up having a baby with king coram II of cintra (g/r g/r), they named him corbett, and he inherited fiona's g/L and one of coram's g/r.

the aen elle lost track of the hen ichaer when they studied riannon's other kid amavet. see, amavet was kind of a whore. he had twins, muriel and crispin, with the married countess anna kameny. obviously, these children weren't legitimate, and when the angry count kameny murdered amavet a few months later, he was officially childless

the elves did, however, manage to figure out that amavet had riannon's g/a gene and goidemar's g/r gene. anna kameny was just g/r g/r, and crispin ended up being g/r g/r as well. destiny does favour the hen ichaer, but sometimes it's just not meant to be. muriel, on the other hand, did inherit her father's activator gene and was g/a g/r.

let's hop back to corbett, fiona and coram's g/L g/r son. he and princess elen of kaedwen (g/r g/r) had a son, dagorad, who got corbett's latent gene and one of elen's regular ones, meaning he was g/L g/r

muriel married robert of garramore (g/r g/r), and their daughter adalia, the dramatically posed lady right there, had the same genetic combination as her mother, g/a g/r

this is where it gets even weirder

the lovely adalia married dagorad. her second cousin. they shared riannon as their great grandmother. feel better in the fact that it was not intentional, adalia's mother, muriel, was not officially riannon's granddaughter. no one would have even known, but adalia's g/a met up with dagorad's g/L in their daughter, calanthe

for the first time since riannon, the hen ichaer was back, and calanthe's parents genes combined to give her g/m g/r

while it took generations of destiny and accidental incest to make the hen ichaer happen again, now that calanthe had the main gene there was a 50% chance she would pass it to her child, which, of course, she did

calanthe and her husband roegner (g/r g/r) had pavetta, who inherited the g/m from her mother. no one knew about this until pavetta literally created a source hurricane, and was already pregnant

pavetta and duny's (g/r g/r) daughter, ciri, inherited the main gene from her mother and was a source.

sources

it's important to note that a source is not necessarily an incredibly powerful sorcerer, merely a person who has the genetic predisposition required to channel very intense magic

sources, like anyone else, can be bad students, allergic to potions, or just generally averse to magic on all levels except heredity. there is also no way to guarantee that even the most willing source will be good at using magic, in fact it's far more common that they will be really really bad at it. sources are extra susceptible to the chaotic state of magic in the world, and many end up pretty seriously harmed by it.

magical talent tends to make itself known in very emotional situations, like the death of a parent or a war. the same applies for sources, but they have an extra rule: their full powers are off limits until they lose their virginities

now, netflix has not mentioned that rule to be true or false, but i'm going to think of it as strictly book/game/etc canon, because ciri is 10 years old when netflix shows her using her source powers for the first time

the virginity rule makes things even more complicated, as customs about premarital sex are pretty strict in the witcher world (well, among nobility), and the dudes didn't seem to have fast reflexes. what i'm saying is that getting pregnant the first time you had sex was not uncommon. sources couldn't even use, and likely weren't aware of, their powers until they were already passing them on to another generation.

and even still, there is no guarantee that someone who is a source will ever actually show their powers. calanthe had the genetics, but she wasn't a mage. what happened? we don't really know. after calanthe married, cintra was pretty peaceful; there were no invasions or massive upheavals that could put enough stress on her to show her powers. plus, her parents didn't know she had any magical powers, so they didn't give her the training that would develop them, and she was a very level headed person who would likely be unaffected by many of the things that would make another source lose their shit.

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onceupona-chaos · 3 years

Text

The Storm

Notes: So, I did something. Maybe there will be a part II, but I wanted to post this one first and now I can only hope whoever read this, might enjoy it. Also, forgive for any mistakes, English is not my first language, but I wanted to try something knew and practice a little.

Warnings: language, self-harm and slightly NSFW.

Enjoy! 😊

Elain was trying hard to pretend she wasn't picking a fight with a bush after spending the entire afternoon working in a elderly faery's garden. She didn't know how old Arya was and didn't ask either. Despite the wrinkled face that made her expression look grave at first sight, Arya was gentle enough to bring a fresh lemonade cup every few minutes. Even if Elain hadn't finished hers, it would be replaced by a full cup with two ice cubes and the right amount of sugar - and a warm smile from Arya.

So when she had sent word asking if her garden could be fixed, Elain gladly embraced the distraction, even though it didn't seem to be a particular good day for gardening, if the cloudy sky was any indication.

Kneeling on the dirt, she had been digging and pulling for hours now as she tried to get rid of the ivys surrounding the beautiful blooming roses.

Usually her gardening was a pretty distraction - her mind would focus entirely on what she was doing, her hands moving on their own accords, until every single thought that made her throat tighten was nothing but mist in the distance.

But lately something's changed.

Hateful thoughts, old anguishes, almost familiar as any part of her body, and new ones found themselves in her mind, making her remember what she longed to forget. She didn't bother to wear gloves, wanted the feeling of rough rocks and sharp thorns against her skin. Wanted to focus on the physical pain, to be as far away from her own mind as possible.

And yet it wasn't enough to keep those too many thoughts, cravings and needs at bay.

Her frustration grew with each passing second, her work getting sloppy when a thunder filled her ears.

It was definitely not a good day for gardening.

Elain couldn't decide what was worse: that her work no longer pushed her thoughts away or that she was literally fighting a stubborn rose bush, pulling a branch out with both hands and groaning a curse that would make Cassian proud.

Elain pulled and pulled, the branch slowly, Gods, so slowly giving up - and then it broke in half, leaving the part covered in thorns still buried deep in the ground. She didn't hesitate though, just wiped the sweat off of her forehead, grabbed the branch, thorns and all biting her skin, and started again.

When Arya came back once again, the lemonade cup hit the ground.

She looked at Elain, taking in the blood staining her cobalt dress, big red drops running down her hands. "It's nothing to be worried about, it's already healing."

It wasn't a lie. But Arya still insisted that Elain went home, claiming that a beautiful lady like her shouldn't remain covered in blood and sweat. A scream caught in Elain's throat that bagged for a few more minutes of distraction, just a few more. But she knew Arya was thinking about her well being, so she made a gentle smile bloom on her face and thanked her for the limonade.

"Hurry up now or you're going to get caught in the storm."

Indeed, Elain could already smell the rain, the air charged with electricity, the wind colder than usual, the promise of thunder and lighting.

Yet her steps were lingered, heavy as she walked by the vibrants streets of Velaris

When the first drops came… she tilted her head and let them pour over her, only wishing it could wash away every burden in her heart.

It didn't take long for the cold rain to soak her, making her own bones shivered. A walk back to the lake house would took long enough to make her catch a cold and since being stuck in a bed was the last thing she needed, Elain made her way to the town house. It was still empty, but at least she could warm up and wait for the rain to pass by.

Elain had just crossed the front door and immediately sighed as she felt the cozy warmth. She was freeing her hair from the braid, combing it with her fingers, taking in the sitting room of the empty house - and froze. Because that was a very, very light fireplace. She only had time to take a step back when the scent of mist and cedar hit her nose.

_______________

After a long visit to the eyes and ears under his command, one would think Azriel would take a warm bath and go for several hours of sleep to put away the feeling of the cold rain against his wings that had chased him for miles and miles.

He could have winnow into shadows. But he hoped the exhaustion of flying through the storm combined with a hot bath to relax his sore muscles would help his body to give in to some poor, few hours of sleep.

Azriel had just gone out of the bath, his hair still damp, when he heard the front door shutting. A shadow curled around his ear, registering someone's presence, and he made his steps quiet as death, aiming for the sitting room.

He hadn't seen Elain alone since Solstice and even at the few dinners on the river house he still tried to attend, Azriel could barely look her in the eyes, the memory of her pain too much for him to handle.

But there she was.

She was staring at him, wild-eyed, soaked to the bones. He allowed himself to drink the sight of her, let his eyes travel slowly through her face. Usually, in those dinners, he would hardly steal a glimpse in her direction - well aware of Rhysand's eyes almost daring him to challenge his orders. But here, alone… It was exactly this kind of situation he tried so hard to avoid, knowing it would be the death of him.

Azriel's eyes dropped to her body, the wet fabric hanging to every curve, and spotted the dark red stain on her dress. He scanned her furiously, looking for injuries, stooping at her bloody hand. There were only a few drops, the rain must have washed the blood away - but it was enough to make him want to roar at the sight of it, the predatory instincts inside him ready to kill and kill and kill whoever was responsible. Before he could say anything though, Elain blurted, "I… I thought the house was empty."

Her voice was almost a whisper above the rain, but the words hit him with the force of a thunder. Azriel swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't looking for him. Not after Solstice. But the way she'd say it...

Without even thinking, he closed the distance between them. Elain lifted her chin to keep her gaze locked with his.

Even in a filthy, soaking dress, her damp hair grabbing to her neck, her bloody hand… She was so breathtakingly beautiful, so full of light.

He took her hand in his, so delicate between his scarred fingers. The soft skin marked with small scars, no doubt from her gardening. He turned her hand, exposing her palm and saw the multiple, small bruises. His calluses brushed hers as he asked, "What happened."

She was shaking slightly, not only from the cold rain, "Usual gardening."

He couldn't take it. It was some kind of cosmic joke to be in an empty house with her, so many words hanging between them. He wanted her to know them all, but some he didn't know how to say, and others he couldn't .

Azriel almost choked on his own pain. He stared at her, letting every feeling unsaid, his own longing and despair, rise to his eyes, unable to stop it as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

Her doe eyes flickered, and Azriel knew she saw beyond those words. She knew he wasn't talking about her bruised hand still in his, the only connection between their bodies.

And when Elain squeezed his fingers, he knew she understood him. Perhaps not everything, but enough.

Azriel didn't know for how long they stood there, watching each other, their hands still intertwined, the rain pouring outside, the sound of heavy drops hitting the roof interrupted only by the rumble of thunder. Without knowing who moved first, he realized his face was inches from hers, enough to share breath. Elain inclined her head and brushed his nose with hers, the gesture so tender.

A moment later, their mouths collided at last and everything else faded away.

Her mouth was soft against him, and the scent of jasmine, honey and rain filling his nose made his eyes roll back behind his eyelids.

Such a sweet kiss as if The Mother or whoever was wanted Azriel to just have a taste of what he couldn't have. Despite every cell in his body screaming at him, Azriel made to pull away, but Elain held him in place and brushed her tongue against his bottom lip. He moaned her name and yielded himself to her.

The kiss wasn't desperate or frantic as Azriel had imagined it would be for so fucking long. No, the kiss was slow and deep, like pouring honey. Their thongs danced with each other, stroking and caressing.

And her taste… like honey and spring sunrise. He couldn't get enough. He needed more, needed her printed in his very bones, until their souls intertwined.

He was breathing hard, one of her delicate hands wandered across his chest and arms, the skin beneath her fingers burning. Elain traced every muscle, every inch of tattoo ink, as if to reaffirm he was real, that he was there. She buried her other hand into his hair, pulling slightly, and Azriel let out a sound between a moan and a purr, barely audible above the rain.

The world faded away and there was only her, only her mouth, her scent, her body. He needed her closer, wanted to merge himself with her so they would never be parted.

Everything about that kiss was so sweet and so sensuous as if it was a song sent from heaven to lure him to the deepest of hells, where every sinful idea would take form. It was his paradise and ruin, and he was utterly, thoroughly hypnotized.

He'd lovers, many throughout the centuries. But he never felt so drowned, so lost and found at the same time. Nothing had ever felt so good, nothing. Azriel could only pray to the old gods that at least one part of him would be his at the end of it.

They continued that taunting dance, touching, exploring, seducing. Their tongues met stroke for stroke until Elain parted and sucked on his bottom lip, and any sane part of him ceased to exist.

Azriel groaned and his hands moved from her waist to find that generous, gorgeous backside of hers, squeezing possessively with both hands, making her moan into his mouth. Elain ondulated her hips, pressing herself against him, and gasped when she felt exactly how much she was affecting him. How much power she had over him. A small smile curved her lips and Azriel traced it with the tip of his tongue.

More more more

Azriel could feel her shaking in anticipation, smell her arousal in the air.

He was going to devourer her inch by inch. He was going to -

Elain suddenly pulled back just enough to look at him in the eyes, and Azriel almost fell on his knees. Sheer desire was printed on her face, those pink, perfect lips swollen, making his mouth watering. A blush stained her cheeks, and he wondered what other places he could make her blush. He needed to know them all.

But all of that was nothing compared to that look on her face. The honey-brown almost entirely gone, her eyes flashing with molten desire as if those black expanded pupils were windows to her soul and his particular way through.

Both of them were breathing each other's air. Elain stared and stared and stared at him as if she was undoing every single wall and shield he'd ever raised.

Azriel let her. Didn't need them with her anyway.

He cupped her face with his hand and brushed her cheek with his thumb, making her shiver. His eyes never left hers, and he could almost see a bridge of light and dark taking form between their souls, honey-brown and hazel in each end.

When his thumb moved to trace her bottom lip, Elain cupped his hands with hers, mouth parting slightly before she kissed the tip of his finger. Azriel didn't know who he was, where he was, because there was only her, only that female accepting every part of him.

Then Elain sucked his thumb into the wet heat of her mouth. Pure desire ran through his body like a lighting straight to his groin, and he had to brace his other hand on the wall to keep himself standing, to not fall on his knees.

Elain let go of his thumb, her eyes glimmering in a way he'd only dreamed about. She inclined her head, baring her throat, and Azriel knew he was in deep shit.

He couldn't help the sound that came out from somewhere deep inside of him, his nostrils flaring at the sight of her delicate, creamy skin covering her pulse point and totally exposed to him - and only him.

Offer and permission.

A thunder rumbled outside, but all Azriel could hear was his blood singing her name as he lowered his head and brushed his nose along the side of her neck, breathing greedily and letting her scent fill his nose, his lungs. Elain arched a little, asking for more.

Azriel then kissed her neck tenderly. Wanted to savor every second of it, every taste of her. Didn't want to rush this - not with her, not when he had the chance. He prayed that the storm would never end, wanted to take his time, worship every part of her body until one stroke at the right place would be all that would take to make her come. Hard.

He kissed the spot beneath her ear and where her neck met her shoulder. Elain's hand tightened, pulling his hair in silent command. Azriel bared his teeth, brushing his canines against her pulse point. He pressed lightly - just enough to make his teeth sink into her skin, claiming her.

Elain moaned louder at the sensation and tightened her hold on his hair - and pure male smugness washed over him. Because he was the one she bared her throat to. It was his mouth on hers, his hands covering her ass. He could already smell his scent on her, mist and jasmine, cedar and honey.

And it was his name she moaned.

"Azriel."

Before Azriel could unleashed himself, he first dropped to his knees.

#elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elain x azriel #my writing

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years

Text

break my mind’s eye II — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

“You’re…letting me go?” Belle stared at her manager Yeeun who, by her clear frown was not mistaken in her harsh words. The two stood in the others’ office with her rack of clothing standing hopelessly in the corner of the room.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to book a venue for a designer with no prior backing?” She continued with her berating.

The younger female assumed it must have around an hour since she arrived and began the onslaught of scolding for missing her fashion show. Belle tried to explain that she needed to help her brother out in a personal situation but family commitment apparently to her was not deemed that important.

“I trusted you and you fucking humiliated me in front of fashion critics.” Yeeun gestured wildly before pinching the bridge of her nose. “You had so much potential too.”

Her heart dropped; slowly wishing that she would go back to just scolding her instead of reminding her of what could have been achieved if the fashion show went on. All the building blocks tirelessly built to get to this point now crumbling down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to bring back what you just threw away.” The older female spoke in brutal honesty as she usually did except it hit Belle harder than normal. “Go on. I can’t help you anymore. Not when there’re plenty of other designers who actually care enough to come to their first fashion show.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip, sun dipping outside casting a dull grey-ish light in the minimalistic office. Photos of all the different designers Yeeun represented now staring down at her in disappointment as she dragged her rack of clothes out of the office.

The morning welcomed sharp chills even through her coat and scarf adorned her body. She grabbed the two pieces of clothing hurriedly since her new wardrobe was organized by Nana who didn’t really know how the girl usually kept everything. Of course that led to a crap load of confusion in the morning when Belle tried to pair something decent and it turned out to be too thin for the temperature she struggled through now.

It didn’t help her situation when her lower belly still ached a little from last night and her head pounded from the lack of proper sleep.

Belle stopped short in front of the office building to see two men standing in front of her, one of them familiar enough for her to realize who they were for. “He’s having you follow me now?” She seethed.

“Master Jeon found out your car was still in the carpark and you took a train so he asked us to drive it here.” Jongho explained plainly, gesturing to the Camry behind them.

Who knew the mere sight of a vehicle could bring this much relaxation in the midst of this stress?

The female sighed pushing the rack towards the hood. “Thank you but please don’t call him ‘Master Jeon’ in front of me.” Belle kept her voice firm, opening the hood and placing all her clothes into an empty box she had with all her discarded designs.

“But we have to.” Jonghos’ brows furrowed, pouting a little; silently reminding that he wasn’t all the much older than any of them, perhaps even younger.

The other guard besides Jongho took the liberty of pushing the rack away in front of the office building.

Belle dared to take another look at the building again. Not too long ago, she walked into this very building with bright eyes and possibly an even brighter future. Memories of Yeeun smiling at her newest designs, approving them to a point where she even got her a chance at a fashion show. Three critics sat at the audience that night and every single one of them looked more important than the last. Unfortunately Belle had someone far more important than any fashion critic or opportunity. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing grew harder and harder to determine.

“Out here, he’s Jungkook.” She spoke still looking up at the building with a more sour expression now at the sound of his name coming from her lips. “And I’m driving.”

Jongho didn’t protest much on the demand and gave her the keys.

“So what’s the real reason Jungkook sent you?” Belle asked as they drove through the city streets. The car had been pleasantly so much warmer than outside or in the train and she grew more thankful as the ice under her skin melted.

Jongho stammered lightly before sighing. “Master—” He cleared his throat. “D-Jungkook did get a little…suspicious that you might try to find a way to get out of the deal. It’s all still—fresh, I guess.”

The female scoffed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “He put my brothers’ life under threat and thinks I’m going to run away like some sorry bitch?” She spat pressing down the urge to stomp on the brakes and hopefully run over Jungkook accidently when they reached the mansion. “You’re both going home.” Belle finalized ignoring any stutter of disapproval from the two males.

“But he—”

“But nothing…if he’s so scared of me running away then he should come meet me himself instead of sending his men.” Past the bustling city, Belle drove into the familiar road towards the secluded mansion.

The last time she drove down this path her life was so much more different than it was now. How could it all just change in the span of a day? All because one man had too much power over others.

Then she stomped on the brakes, the shaking hand of the speed checker accelerating at a worrying rate up to the hundreds.

Muffled tire and engine sounds numbing her ears as her stomach jumped from the push across the slightly graveled road.

Heart pumping adrenaline, fueling the wildfire in her body, pushing away memories of his fucking hands on her skin, the disappointment she brought to everyone even herself.

“Ma’am!” A frightened voice called out from behind her, mentally slapping her back to reality.

Letting out deep breath Belle slowly braked the car again bringing them back down from the rush as the mansion now came into view. “Sorry.” She glanced over at Jongho who looked more concerned for the female compared to the guard at the back who feared for his life in a split second.

Into the courtyard she stared at the collection of guards who once again stood lined up the entrance of the mansion. An intense feeling of déjà vu flushed over her before turning to the two guards. “Alright, out you go. I need to get to work.” Going to the fashion-house now became the only thing that could make her day that little bit better.

“Master Jeon—he’ll be angry at us if we left you alone.”

Belle saw something oddly familiar in Jonghos’ eyes that she couldn’t shake off. Seeing the recognizable glint reminded her that Taehyung was not the only victim to Jungkooks’ power. “If Madame Saito sees two strange men with me, she’s going to try and call the police. I don’t want her involved in this whole mess.” She explained. “Is there any way you can keep yourself hidden so Jungkook at least knows that you were doing your job?” Both men nodded thankfully.

She rested back on the seat, closing her eyes as her body reminded her again of the anxiety burning her from the inside. “I need to get some warmer clothes anyway so stay here.”

Nana told Belle that Jungkook was out all morning and a little bit of the day on important business meetings around the city. Not that the younger female really gave a shit where he went but once again…common fucking courtesy.

The drive to the fashion-house was quiet aside from some light music playing on her radio.

They arrived at Madame Saitos’ fashion-house. An elegant slab of purple and gold with the monogram of the Japanese Kanji symbol that meant ‘elegant’. Belle remembered getting the job a few weeks before her parents passed away. It immediately turned from a dream job to the only thing keeping her from breaking down after Taehyung started going into a downward spiral.

Now more than ever she needed the sweet caress of fresh fabric under her fingers to calm her down, to prevent another incident like the one on the road from happening. As per her request, Jongho and the other guard who later introduced himself as Jisung, opted to walk into a nearby café.

Belle walked through the glass doors, all her worries seemingly melting away at the look of neatly organized clothes on the different shelves and stands. Her clothes fit warm and snug on her now and the level upstairs for designing awaited her arrival.

“Bella, darling!” She heard the familiar voice echo through the building.

Turning to the right Belle couldn’t help but smile seeing the bright woman walk over to her in a gorgeous purple pantsuit. She gave her a small bow which she waved away.

“How many times have I told you? You’re a fellow designer.” Saito tapped her chin which would have made her giggle.

But her stomach dropped when reality sunk in and she realized Saito was wrong. “I’m not a designer anymore.” Belle smiled sadly.

“And why is that?” She raised her own chin, deep purple lips looking more defined and her dark brows furrowed.

It was as if her mind opened up the millions of drawers she tried to lock up to help her survive the rest of the day but the younger female adorned a much smaller smile. “Yeeun let me go. I couldn’t go through the fashion show on a family emergency.”

Saito scoffed loudly before waving her hand. “Managers don’t make designers. Designers make designers.” She pressed hand over Belle’s heart. “She’s one manager, darling. Don’t let it get to you.”

If it were a less strange time than this, Belle would instantly be consoled by Saitos’ words but there was so much more. So many more things she wanted to talk about but she feared no one’s ears were understanding enough. Even she couldn’t hear herself talk about what happened. “Thank you.” She muttered forcing her mind to feel somewhat relaxed.

The older female smiled, patting her cheek. “I have to go personally deliver this to a client.” She rolled her eyes looking down at the cover hanging over her arm. “He’s this big businessman who wants a suit tonight and just needs to thank the designer in person.” She scoffed making Belle chuckle. “You’ll be in charge for the rest of the day, darling.”

Belle’s heart fluttered in excitement as she immediately nodded.

“Oh and…since you have more time on your hands without Yeeun pestering you. I was wondering if you wanted to work on a few designs for the Spring Line.” Saito smiled casually not entirely noticing that fireworks were going off in her mind in celebration.

She was getting a chance at another line. Another opportunity. Belle couldn’t help giggling a little but she quickly stopped herself. “You’re not joking?”

“Of course not. You’re the best designer I’ve had in years.” She patted her shoulder comfortingly. “One thing though, I’ll need four designs by tomorrow morning so we can be ahead of schedule. I’ve done six that you can look at to see what the concept is but let your wonderful mind run wild.”

A light hint of anxiety seeped through the thick elation bursting through her veins but Belle ignored it, merely smiling at the older female as she walked out of the building.

Sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, warm light shining through the glass giving the whole store a deep warm glow as Belle stood in front of the main counter. Hand ached a little from holding onto the pencil for too long. Grey scratches against the ecru paper of flowy trains and minimalistic patterns to symbolize re-birth in some way.

Something she admired about Saito was her excessive need to shy away from the norm of flowers and nature. Maybe thinking a little deeper into what spring meant and really bringing the art out of her fashion. Part of why despite their prices, people still walked in and out purchasing their numbers.

It was a breath of fresh air from the line of fashion and a wonder to behold during Fashion Week.

Unfortunately Belle’s little bubble of inspiration was rudely popped when the door opened with Jonghos’ voice echoing in the building.

“Ma’am…Master Jeon is asking for you at the mansion.” He tried to speak quietly but the walls resonated even the smallest of sounds.

Her brows furrowed, dropping the pencil on the table making her fingers cramp up ever so slightly. “What does he need me for?” Anger rose and burned through her eyes.

“He said it’s important.” Jongho shrugged.

The woman huffed averting her gaze before jumping off her chair. “Did he call you? Is he still on the phone?” Belle stomped over to the male who tried to back away a little but the glass door closed behind him. “What could he possibly want from me now that’s so damn important?” He already got everything else.

“I don’t know, ma’am…he—he didn’t say.”

“Well tell him that I have a lot of work to do and he can wait.” She glared at the young male even though truly he wasn’t the one she was angry at.

Eventually Jongho walked towards the car with slouched shoulders leaving Belle to go back to work on her counter. The scratches were a lot harsher due to her shaky fingers so she reminded herself to re-do some of these sketches again when it was time for coloring.

“Ma’am?” Jongho called out again in a much softer voice.

Belle’s pencil broke off making her fingers curl up into a fist but she forced herself to take a deep breath. “What is it, Jongho?”

“Master Jeon wants to speak with you.” He held out a phone walking towards the counter.

She glanced at the male before down at the phone, accepting it gently and putting it on her ear. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to be a fool?” Jungkooks’ tone took a dark turn from what Belle heard yesterday; more growly and deep like he had been yelling all day.

“I already said I’m working.” Belle muttered calmly. “What’s so important?”

“We need to go to an event. My aunt and uncle have invited me to come tonight and I need you to be there to get rid of any future suitor arrangements.” He explained with that same infuriating voice acting like she was doing something wrong trying to work.

“I need to some things done, Jungkook, can’t we re-schedule a meeting with your aunt and uncle?” Hands brushed away the pieces of led that broke off from her pencil.

“No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you realize just what’s at stake if you piss me off too much.” He challenged.

“Your deal was that you’ll stay away from Taehyung if I stay with you.” She corrected.

“You should know that I can change deals in an instant.”

Belle gripped onto the phone suppressing the urge to throw it across the room as she gulped down a lump in her throat. Her dormant anxiousness now fully erupting through every limb in her body. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She stated before hanging up not wanting to hear his voice anymore as she gave it over to Jongho.

Angrily packing up her stuff, she decided to let Jongho drive this time to prevent any incidents on the road from her heated up mind.

So much for fucking freedom. He couldn’t even re-schedule a meeting to let her work. Maybe it was an overreaction but looking at the situation, Belle thought that being livid and frustrated was called for.

The sky turned purple by the time they reached the mansion and Belle barely waited for the car to stop before she climbed out. Grabbing her things, she walked through the entrance ignoring any attempt at the guards trying to hold the bags.

“Finally her Majesty has arrived, what took you so long?” Jungkook, already dressed up in a black suit with a white shirt slightly unbuttoned, jabbed at the female right as she walked through the archway.

Belle merely glared at the male walking past him up the stairs while Nana followed her helplessly. The older female almost wanted to apologize for him but couldn’t find the time as she chased her.

In their shared room, Belle placed the bags of her work next to her side of the bed. Tears of frustration flooded in her eyes a little which she tried her best to hide when she saw Nana come up behind her.

“Dear…” She muttered comfortingly but the younger female shook her head.

“It’s okay, please. I’ll get ready myself.” Belle smiled through teary eyes before walking past her.

Ankle length daffodil-yellow dress adorned her freshly showered body, long curls with the top half clipped away from her face and some shoes to match. As she coated her lashes her mind tried to organize how she was going to rush to the event and then come back to finish all the designs. The deeper the thoughts moved, the more anxiety bubbled inside her almost making her makeup application a little dodgy but decent enough.

“Dear, Master Jeon is calling for you.” Nana spoke gently as if knowing that the sound of his name stroke a nerve in her constantly.

“I’m done, I’m coming.” Belle answered, hands leaning against the edge of the vanity table in the walk-in wardrobe trying to calm down her breathing. I hope you’re okay, Taehyung. It was only the first day and she could feel the weight of it all bearing down on her body. For the first time since yesterday, the woman almost wanted to admit that she may be lot more vulnerable than she thought.

Shaking her head roughly she stared at herself in the mirror. Dusty rose lips mimicking the light hint of colour on her cheeks and a glimmering eyes mostly from the illusion in the shimmery eyeshadow. At least she looked put together. Her body and mind were a whole different story.

Nana held onto her hand as they walked down the stairs, Belle held onto the dress to ensure she didn’t trip and make her stressful day even worse. Little bits of her hair dropped over her face but it was only when she reached the end.

Her eyes slowly trailed up to see Jungkook staring at her up and down the way he did the first time they met.

“What’s wrong?” She looked down at her outfit for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing wrong but Jungkook must have had something to say.

The man stayed silent for a few minutes shifting in his position. “Nothing. Let’s go.” He muttered coldly walking to the exit with three of his guards already walking behind him like robots.

Belle followed the trail, gripping at her clutch purse.

Dull blue hue adorned the sky when they were outside. The guards dispersed to the sides giving Belle way to move forward where she saw Jungkook looking over his shoulder as if he was searching for someone.

Not a word uttered, Jungkook raised an arm and let it hover over her back as they walked towards the luxurious black Sedan shining even in this grey-ish light.

Throughout the car ride, Belle tried to ask Jungkook what the event was for and what they would be doing for the rest of the night. All her questions answered with detached replies that gave her no explanation whatsoever making it highly difficult to keep her patience.

“At least tell me how long it’s going to be?” She asked in a much softer tone now.

“An hour or something, alright? Now just keep quiet and don’t embarrass me.” Jungkook snapped before looking out the window.

Belle wanted to be shocked at the sudden change in behavior from the dashing and charming man she saw yesterday but this just served as a good reminder. This was all a fucking joke. She was dressing up to play pretend with a scum of a man who had no care for anyone but his own needs and reputation.

The momentary silence broke by muffled sounds of flashing cameras and people calling out or yelling at the glimmering bodies on the carpet.

Jungkook had the car door opened for him and the second he walked out, he could hear the people growing more restless and the cameras going wild.

Belle shifted towards his side now keeping her clutch purse on her chest.

He held his hand out and she accepted it to keep up appearances, adorning an elegant smile on her rosy lips. Their fingers intertwined with one another as they walked past them with their personal line of guards on each side.

Sounds of violins made her ears prick up and the smell of chocolate touched her nostrils, her stomach rumbling a little. Thankfully the incessant noise from every corner was able to conceal it.

The event hall shone in golden light with a crystal chandelier centering the ceiling, buffet standing on the far left, slow dancing in the middle and a sitting area on the far right. People were crowded but nothing like a bustling city. Instead of strangers pressing against each other in trains or trying to push past to get to work, people kindly slithered through crowds or made pleasant conversation before they moved onto the next group.

Though Belle despised the reasoning for being here, for years this was an event she has always wanted to attend. The class, the culture, the clothes; all of it surrounded her like a welcoming hug and she didn’t really protest when Jungkook led her further into the hall.

Fake elegant smile now melted into something more genuine as she curiously peered over at the performers in gold satin dresses dancing in the middle of the hall. On her left, a vast selection of foods, some she didn’t even recognize but the chocolate fountain wasn’t hard to detect and her stomach shouted again.

“Auntie!” Jungkook called out, his usual sour mood moved to a smile as he leaned to press a kiss on an older womans’ cheek.

The lady looked as elegant and bright as the hall they were in, wearing a white dress with golden hair pins in her neat bun while the man next to her—Jungkook’s uncle wore the same simple suit his nephew did. Except he had a bow on unlike her ‘partners’ more unkept look. “I’m so happy you could be here!” His aunt cheered softly, her wide smile showing off all the lines on her face.

“Why would I not? Your events are always my favorite.” He smiled again almost to a point where Belle almost suspected it may have been fake.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” His aunt nodded at the younger male whose lips twitched a little making him grin wider.

This one looking a lot more obviously forced.

His aunt turned to the side and called someone over. A woman who looked around their age, tall and slender with long black hair flowing past her lower back and her body adorning an azure dress, loosely stitched rhinestones in large clusters. All of that topped up with some bright red lipstick and shimmering blue eyeshadow to match the clothes. She gave Jungkook a big, advertisement smile.

Belle felt Jungkooks’ hand leave her and immediately hold his out towards the woman which she accepted happily. She introduced herself as Suyeon, only side-glancing her before fixating her gaze on the man instead.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Suyeon.” His charming tone sounded all too familiar.

“I think you two would hit it off really well.” Her aunt declared already off of a two second conversation. Finally the older woman managed to look over at her. “And who’s this?”

Jungkook hummed in question before looking at Belle. “Right this is—” He paused for a moment staring at the woman as if he was already starting to have second thoughts. “This is a friend…Belle.”

Belle smiled at the three new people even though her heart burned with anger at how quickly he changed his mind.

“Of course.” His aunt smiled.

The four elites dived into deep conversation as Belle quietly smiled and admired the performances instead; hoping they would distract her somehow. None of them really cared about her presence here which didn’t help her fury towards Jungkook.

Ah Jungkook.

He who conveniently shifted on the other side of her so he could stand next to Suyeon instead, conversing with her pleasantly. Everything about their deal now seemed long forgotten leaving Belle to worry about the fate of her brother.

“So…uh—” Suyeon spoke towards her now.

“Belle.” She answered softly, keeping up with that smile tiresomely.

“I’ve never seen you in these kinds of parties before.”

“This is my first time.”

“Ah—” Suyeon gave her a fake smile. “Makes sense.” She eyed her up and down as the other three of them laughed.

Even Jungkook didn’t seem to stop finding it funny.

“I mean…no offense, darling but yellow isn’t really a nice color for these events. They look a little—childish.” Venom flowed from her tongue when she spewed those words.

Whatever anxiety burning Belle from the inside now was momentarily pushed down as the fashion lover inside her scurried up. “It’s called daffodil…not yellow.” She emphasized the word making it sound like an uncouth description to use. “If we are talking about childish, perhaps you could take a closer look at the plastic rhinestones on your dress hanging on for dear life on a single thread.” She looked at her up and down this time. “I highly doubt that’s Louis Vuitton work.”

Her words silenced the four of them immediately. Suyeons’ photo-worthy smile now turned into an ugly frown, the aunts’ brows were raised in intrigue and Jungkook stared at her in shock. Belle merely smiled as the older woman of the group tried to change the topic now into something more lighthearted.

Once the confidence drowned out, anxiety kicked in again wanting to walk out of this vicinity right now and never look back. The four of them dispersed a little but Jungkook walked straight to her, holding her arm and bringing her close. “Behave yourself, alright? There’s no need to be rude.”

Belle scoffed yanking out of his grip and walking towards the buffet hoping that some food would help her mood. The clip in her hair began to prick at her aching head and her shoes felt like they were tighter by the minute. Nothing felt right about this night.

“Oh Belle…” She heard a drawling, sickly sweet voice.

Just her luck. Looking over to her side, she gave Suyeon a similar grin trying to look as friendly as possible even though their previous interaction was anything but that. “Suyeon—”

“I hope there’s no hard feelings about my comment.” There was no genuine nature in her tone in the slightest but Belle played along, once again playing pretend that everything was going swell.

“It’s all forgotten.” She shook her head.

“I also hope you could give me some more fashion advice.”

Belle turned to look at the female and a dampening chill trailed all the way down from her chest to her torso, body stepping back in shock. She looked down at her daffodil dress now stained with red almost forming into an orangish color. Gasps echoed throughout the room and she could feel the stares on her. Staring up at Suyeon, she was holding out an empty glass with a sinister smirk on her face.

“What color is that, little rat?”

“Suyeon!”

Belle could’ve sworn she heard Jungkooks’ aunts’ yelling but she was already heading for the bathroom, the whole day picked at her final straw.

If in a better mood, her eyes would have been shining in glee at the gorgeous white marble bathroom with bright gold detail. But right now they were flooding with hot tears that stained down her cheeks. Body shivering a little from the harsh chill on her entire front, some pieces of her hair completely damp and the skin on her chest reddened as well.

Belle whined lightly under her breath, lips quivering as she grabbed some tissues and dabbed off the excess liquid not wanting to face the crowd outside.

She heard a woman squeal a little when the door opened but she couldn’t care less to look.

Her head was numb, her body flushing from hot to cold and her body too stubborn to stop shaking from the cold and anxiety.

Finally her eyes flickered to the mirror to see a familiar figure standing next to her. The mere sight of him caused her to sigh in elevated frustration. “If you’re just going to yell at me—” Belle spoke in a cracked voice.

“I saw what she did.” Jungkook immediately replied in a mutter.

Belle sniffled washing off the liquid from the ends of her hair, feeling her clothes now sticking to her dampened skin.

The male padded closer reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” She backed away as one hand held onto the dripping hair. “You chose your wife, now leave me alone.” Belle hated that Jungkooks’ previous behavior created a lump in her throat, fresh tears arriving at the brim of her eyes.

A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his head, leaning against the edge of the counter. “Her joke wasn’t funny.” Jungkook murmured. “I just laughed for the sake of my aunt, she stares at my every move when I make conversation with these suitors. I can never seem to gain the courage to upset her.” He shifted in his position. “Truth be told, you were the most beautiful one here.”

Belle shook her head, another tear dropping down her cheek even after touching up her makeup. “I just wanna go home…” She tried to hug herself but it only made the clothes on her front more uncomfortable. “Please.”

Jungkook searched the womans’ expression finding nothing but distress and discomfort in her whole being. He nodded before shrugging off his coat with a sigh. “Here.” He held his coat out.

She hesitated for a moment glancing up at the man before caving as she draped the coat on. Thankfully it was big enough to cover up most of her dress. Once again his hand hovered over her back as they walked out of the bathroom.

Most of the people were back to their own conversations save for Jungkooks’ aunt who still looked worriedly at the two.

“I didn’t know she was going to behave like that, sweetie.” His aunt genuinely looked like she regretted inviting the menace to the event. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She rubbed her shoulder a little.

Belle smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to you at a better time, auntie.” Jungkook kissed her cheek again before they walked out of the hall in silence.

Trying their best to ignore the paparazzi, the two were led into their car and were driven home in silence. Belle scooched on the far side on the back seat looking out the window hoping that this day would end. But it couldn’t.

Heat flushed at the back of her neck when she looked at the time. Her work tomorrow would start at around nine after she paid a visit to Taehyung in the rehab center. So that left only a few hours with no sleep to finish the rest of her designs for the spring line. Right up until they reached the mansion, her head began planning all the ways she would keep herself awake and finish the job she was set.

“What happened, mistress?” Nana asked and Belle just replied that a snake got a hold of a wine glass before they walked upstairs.

Jungkook walked over to the bar the last time she glimpsed back only for a second.

Forcing herself to have a cold shower, she put on simple pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweater with her hair up in a ponytail. Her body million times more comfortable now in dry and warm clothing while her dress was being soaked. Annoyance washed over thinking of the possibility that she might not be able to take the stain off.

Belle sat on the floor of the walk-in wardrobe, the perfect place to lay out all her designs and begin her sketching session.

Jungkook walked into the room when she was figuring out where to add details on one of her dresses. He paused a little looking at her deeply engrossed in her work.

She merely glanced at the male before going back to her tasks. Talking to him or even looking at him would only remind her of the time he stole away and for what? Humiliation and a wine stain on one of her favourite dresses? Belle even physically shook her head at the thought. The fact he even threatened to break the deal for this shit only worsened the fury.

But she couldn’t break any more pencils over her anger. Now Belle had to work. If anything needed to go well, it was this. So as the hours kept ticking away, the woman did nothing but do what she did best.

While Jungkook giving one last glance at her, fell fast asleep on the bed assuming she might just come there when she’s ready.

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#jungkook #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #bts mafia au #jungkook mafia au

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babymetaldoll · 4 years

Text

The Super Secret Mystery Project (Insomnia II) (Matthew Gray Gubler / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Summary: Matthew Gray Gubler proposes to Reader after seven years together

Warning: You might die of an overdose of fluffiness. Sorry, I can’t help it.

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler / Reader

Word count: 2,6 K

A/N: Thank you all for the nice comments and requests <3

Part I

Materlist

- “I need you to guard this for me”- Matthew Gray ran into the kitchen and nearly killed his girlfriend of a heart attack. She jumped on her spot and almost dropped the cake pan she was holding.

- “Jesus!! Gubler!!”- but he just laughed and kissed her cheek sweetly, notoriously excited about something she didn’t know.

- “Sorry Bunny!! Just keep this for me for a while, ok?”

Matthew placed an envelope in her pocket and wrapped his arms around her waist.

- “What are you baking?”

- “I’ve been craving an ice cream cake all week, and today I finally have time to do it”

- “Damn, sounds good, which ice cream’s flavors?”

- “Oreo cookies and cream, and chocolate chip cookie dough”- Gubler kissed (Y/N)’s neck making her giggle as she kept pouring batter on the pan.

- “You are gonna make me get fat”

- “You don’t have to eat it”- (Y/N) turned and smiled at her boyfriend- “More for me.”

- “You wish, young lady, but that ice cream cake has to get the Gubler’s seal of approval before it’s served”- Matthew pecked her nose and moved to the fridge. His girlfriend stared at him with a sweet smile, thinking she was dating the most adorable manchild on earth.

- “And what am I guarding by the way?”

(Y/N) looked back at the pan and prepared it to get into the oven, and her boyfriend stayed quiet for a few seconds, trying to arrange his thoughts. It was an important deal, and he had to make sure it all turned out perfect.

- “Remember that project I’ve been working on?”- he finally said, as casually as possible.

- “The “Super Secret Mystery Project”?”- she asked, thrilled to know more about it- “The one you’ve been working secretly for the last two weeks?”

- “Yes, that’s the one”- the actor took a sip of water and finally made his move- “I was thinking I could show it to you later”

- “Really? is it done?”- (Y/N) turned to him the second she closed the oven- “Can we see it now?”

- “Nope, you have to finish that cake first”- her instantaneous pout made him chuckle immediately.

- “Please?”

- “No, Bunny, you’ll have to wait.”

The “Super secret mystery project” had taken Matthew Gray Gubler at least two weeks in the making, mostly because he had to do it at work, in between shots in the set. Why? ‘cos (Y/N) couldn’t see it, which meant he couldn’t do it home.

Ever since the last time he was forced to spend a whole week home alone, he had made the decision: it was time to propose. But first, he had to find the perfect way to do it.

There was no way on earth Gubler was going to do it over dinner in a restaurant.

Neither on the beach at sunset. It had to be special. It had to be different. It had to be about them. Easier said than done, that’s why it took him exactly seventeen days to be completely ready to do it. And the day was that night.

- “Ok Gubbilubie, the cake is in the freezer, can I see the “Super secret mystery project” now?”- (Y/N) literally jumped on the couch onto Gubler’s lap and pouted- “Please?”

- “Gubilubie? what the fuck?”

- “I don’t know, it just came to my mind in the desperation to get your… attention?”- she made up a bad excuse and snickered- “Come on, it wasn’t that bad… was it?”

- “Please never call me that again”- Matthew Gray pretended to get serious, but you could tell he was making his best not to smile.

- “What? Gubilubie? why not? it sounds super cute”

- “I hate it”- he was lying

- “If you don’t want me to call you that again, show me the Super Secret Mystery Project.”

- “You love calling it by that name, don’t you?”- Gubler leaned and kissed (Y/N)’s lips softly a few times.

- “What can I say… it’s a good name, just like Gubilubie”

- “Stop it”

(Y/N) smiled and watched him stand up and grab the remote control.

- “Ok, so, it took me a while to master this project, it’s something I’ve had in mind for years, but it has always been hard for me to find the right time to do it… besides, I felt I needed more to add to the story, more character development, more… I don’t know, like one last push, maybe? I don’t know how to explain it”

- “Is this about the puppet show you were putting on the other day in your office?”

- “No”- Matthew laughed immediately- “Although, maybe I could add it… I’m not sure… it’s not a bad idea”

- “Come on! show me the project!”- (Y/N) jumped on her seat and clapped excitedly.

- “Fine, just… be honest and tell me what you think, ok?”

Matthew Gray Gubler was nervous. He had always said you had to get nervous when you were doing something important, ‘cos it meant you actually cared for it. Well, this time, he was truly nervous. Afraid even… hysterical, maybe, but making his best to look as cool as a cucumber. He loved that comparison, he was indeed a fan of cucumbers. Not ta fan of eating them, ‘cos he said they were disgusting, but he supported them. His words exactly.

The second he pushed play, there was no way back.

- “Hi, I’m Matthew Gray Gubler”- the image of him sitting in his trailer waving at the camera made (Y/N) smile immediately- “And today, I’m here to make some magic, make you laugh, but mostly, to tell you a little story about this incredible girl who met this, badly groomed, awkward and hyperventilated looking dude a few years ago, and somehow, fell in love with him”.

(Y/N) looked at him not getting what was going on. He just smiled and pointed at the screen.

- “Keep watching, it gets better.”

And it did.

- “Hi, I’m (Y/N)”- on the screen, Gubler impersonated her voice and stood next to a real size cardboard cutout standup of her, in the middle of the bullpen set. There were people around him actually pretending that wasn’t weird at all and just kept working.

- “Are you serious?!”- the real-life (Y/N) yelled and laughed as soon as she saw the screen- “What the fuck is this?”

- “Just keep watching, and don’t laugh, this is some serious work, Bunny, it might be the best thing I’ve ever directed”

- “Hello, I’m Matthew, nice to meet you, (Y/N)”- and in the scene, Gubler shook the cardboard hand and smiled- “You smell like cinnamon”

- “I just baked cinnamon rolls”

- “So, do you bake a lot?”- that had indeed been their first and awkward conversation the day they had met at a party one of their friends had thrown.

- “No… yes, have someone ever told you how hot you are?”

- “Gubler!”- (Y/N) yelled and smacked his arm right away- “I didn’t say that!!”

- “It’s an adaptation, I’m sure you were thinking about it”

- “I was not thinking that!”

Yes, that was exactly what she had thought.

- “Be quiet, I wanna know what happens next”- Matthew covered (Y/N)’s mouth with his hand and turned to the screen.

- “And, would you like to go out sometime? maybe get some coffee?”- Gubler said to the cardboard.

- “Sure, sounds like a plan, you look like a nice, handsome young man who can make me happy”- (Y/N) turned and looked at Matthew with narrowed eyes, but didn’t make a noise. She was enjoying the super secret project way too much to keep talking.

- “This is an incredible evening, so romantic!”- cardboard (Y/N) said. The scene was taking place in the Criminal Minds’s jet set- “I can’t believe you are taking me to London on our first date”

- “Why didn’t you do that in real life?”- she whispered and giggled, but he shushed her and pointed at the screen.

- “Pay attention!”

- “Anything for you, Bunny”

- “You are amazing Matthew Gray, you are the most handsome, intelligent and tall man I have ever met”- Gubler’s impersonation was so funny, his girlfriend couldn’t stop laughing

- “You forgot I can also do magic”

- “I can’t believe it! you are perfect”- (Y/N) had to bit her lip to control the laughter.

- “Would you like to see a trick?”

- “Of course, there is nothing on earth sexier than a guy who can do magic”

- “Great, let me get my special deck”

On the screen, Gubler started to prepare a magic trick, but now the camera was pretending to be (Y/N), so he was sitting right across from her.

- “Take that deck of cards and pick nine cards”- on-screen Matthew said, and in real life, he pointed at a deck sitting on the coffee table

- “I think he wants you to do it”- he whispered and his girlfriend looked at him confused.

- “What?”

- “He said he was going to make a trick for you, so… try i”t- not getting what was actually going on, (Y/N) grabbed the deck and did as told.

- “Do you’ve got your nine cards?”

- “Yup”- (Y/N) answered the screen feeling like a dork. Like a happy and excited dork.

- “Great, now shuffle them a little, then turn them, and fan them, so all the numbers are facing you, got it?”

- “Yes Mister Magician”- (Y/N) nodded at the screen and giggled, having the time of her life.

- “Spread them out, can you see all of them?”

- “Yes Gubidubi”

- “Stop it”- real-life Matthew whispered, making his girlfriend laugh

- “Shh, I’m doing a magic trick here, don’t interrupt me!”

He kept looking at her, now sitting on the floor, with his legs crossed, her eyes stuck at the screen. And he kept feeling his heart about to come out of his chest. That was indeed the biggest and more important project he had ever made.

- “Now it’s time to pick a card, I’m gonna roll my lucky nine sides dice to pick it, ok?”- the two of them watched how Gubler did so on the screen- “Number two, so look at your second card from left to right, and memorize it, ok? ‘cos that’s your secret card, and you don’t have to forget it, alright?”

The girl nodded and looked at it.

- “I don’t know what cards you’ve got, so this is going to very hard to do… but trust me, Bunny, the Great Gubler is gonna blow your mind”

There was a short silence, ‘cos both on-screen, and real-life Matthew were looking at her at the same time, if possible.

- “Get the cards together, turn them over, numbers down, and we are going to do my secret special shuffle, the one that’s going to do all the magic, ok?”

It was funny ‘cos (Y/N) was actually nodding at the screen, making Gubler chuckle.

- “You have to spell your name putting the cards in a pile, ready? use one card for each letter”- and so, she did as asked- “Ready? now take the cards left in your hand and put them on top of the pile, and now hold all of them in your hand, got it?”

- “Yes!”- she wasn’t actually trying to hide her excitement

- "Awesome Bunny, now I want to be part of this so why don’t you spell my name with the cards, just like you did with yours”- (Y/N) frowned and looked at her real-life boyfriend

- “Just Matthew or can I use one of the million nicknames?”- but the answer came from the tv.

- “Spell Matthew, Bunny”- her jaw dropped, and yelled.

- “Witchcraft!!”

Her boyfriend was really having a hard time trying no to laugh, he kept biting his lips as he smiled. So far, so good.

- “Are you done? now place the remaining cards on top of the pile, pick them all, and now put the first one facing down on the table”

- “Ok…”- she whispered

- “Now the next one on top of it”

- “Alright…”

- “Keep going, you can stop whenever you want to, and when you do, I want you to put the remaining cards on top of the others... if you don’t have any left, that’s cool, I just hope the trick isn’t ruined”

(Y/N) chuckled at Gubler’s face on the screen and did as told.

- “Now, as you can see, there’s no way I can know which card you selected ‘cos… well I’m not there, and I don’t know which card you selected, but, I am gonna give it a shot, ok?”

The fact she was nodding at the screen, forgetting Matthew was in fact sitting there next to her, was so far, his favorite part of the whole video. She was so into the trick, she had no idea what was coming up next.

- “Ok Bunny, move a little closer to me and place your card facing down in your hand”- she crawled closer to the tv and giggled.

- "And now take the first three cards, don’t look at them, just hold them up and show them to me… no, neither of those, throw them away, we don’t need them, show me the next two”

And so she did, giggling nervously, thinking there was no way on earth that trick was ever going to work.

- “Nope, your card ain’t there either, show me one more… nope, nothing… are you sure you shuffled this right? yes? sorry, don’t look at me like that! ok… you know what, none of those is your card, I’ve got the feeling you’ve got it hidden somewhere… hold it… I can feel it”

(Y/N) frowned, confused and by instinct, her hand moved to the envelope her boyfriend had given her earlier.

- “Yes Bunny… show me what’s in that envelope”- she knew it was the same man the whole time, but it was still freaky the guy on the tv knew everything she was doing in real life.

- “Now, open the envelope and show me the card…”- she did exactly what the magician asked her to do, and saw him smile.

- “Finally! that’s your card, take look at it”

When (Y/N) turned the card, she wide opened her eyes. It was actually the card she had picked, but it also had a note written on top of it with a handwriting she knew all too well, that said: “Turn around”.

And when she did, she saw Matthew Gray Gubler kneeled in front of her holding the perfect engagement ring.

- “I always thought magic was an illusion you create for an audience until I met you, and you made me feel the magic in life without any kind of trick, that’s why I want to be with you for the rest of my life, trying to make your days as magical as you make mine… so… (Y/N) (Y/L/N), would you marry me?”

The tears and the smile across her face were all the answer Matthew needed, but it wasn’t until he heard her say “I do” that he didn’t let out the breath he had been holding ever since he had stopped talking.

That was it, it was finally happening, in the most romantic, different, nerdy way Gubler could have thought about. And she had said yes. Anyone would have been sure she was going to accept, but he didn't want to take her for granted, it was the first mistake in a relationship. He hadn't done that in seven years, he wasn't going to start now.

They held each other tight for a few minutes, whispering how much they loved each other. They kissed, they even cried a little (more than a little, actually), and finally, they sighed and smiled.

- “Is it too soon to ask for some of that ice cream cake?- Gubler whispered in her ear and she laughed.”

- “I was thinking about it... celebration cake?”

- “And then, celebration sex?”- they smiled at each other and nodded.

- “I love you, Gub”

- “I love you, Bunny.”

#Spencer Reid #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew Gray Gubler Fanfiction #fluff #magic #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fanfic #criminal minds #mgg fluff #babymetaldoll writes

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kurt-nightcrawler · 4 years

Text

Decay: part II

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: this talks about alcoholism, implications of sex, mentions of technical assault (Jessie kissed Warren while he was drunk and she made him think she was Mother Nature!), also we get into Warren’s backstory a bit. I’m not trying to make anyone out to be a villain, but the story overall is much more upsetting than usual.

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Not exactly the mood needed right now— I am very sorry, but I’m working on a much happier piece for Mother Nature and Warren! I’ll try to have it out before the end of the month!

Part 1 if you need a refresher!

Warren didn’t want to tell anyone about what happened. He wanted to pretend it never happened. To just hole up the memory of the night deep into his mind. He always hid and pushed away trauma. Why should this be any different?

His friends wanted to get Alex or maybe even Charles involved, but he protested.

“It’s my word against her’s.”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to support you, and Jean and Charles are telepathic—”

“What can I really do? Press charges? If I do that then and use Jean or Charles to back me up, it becomes a whole mutant’s rights issue. It’s not worth it.”

(Y/N) hated seeing Warren look so defeated. Jessie going about Xavier’s unscathed by everyone who wasn’t close with Warren, and him thinking it was his fault.

(Y/N) had said she must have eaten something bad at the Halloween party, causing her to feel sick and sprout poison ivy. Also why all the plants died.

If Hank and Charles could tell she was lying, they didn’t say anything.

Rumors started amongst students about what had happened at the party— if Warren had actually cheated on (Y/N), if he did something to Jessie, or if Jessie forced herself onto him.

Warren didn’t like the rumors involving (Y/N) in the mess. He didn’t like the stares and whispers they got when people saw them together.

“Poor girl, staying with him even after he cheated.”

“Maybe she’s too naive to realize.”

“I knew they’d never work out— (Y/N)’s too good for him.”

“I bet he forced her into going out with him.”

“I mean… he’s not ugly—”

“Yeah, but he’s not a good person and (Y/N) is!”

It made him sick to his stomach. Warren didn’t force her into anything— and he thought he had changed, that people were finally trusting him.

Guess he was wrong.

—

Warren wasn’t even paying attention in his environmental sciences class. They were watching a video on how a plant species can be invasive, required to take notes on it.

Warren was texting (Y/N), phone brightness turned down all the way. He just wanted to go to bed for a while and ignore the real world.

When the bell rang, dismissing students, Alex told everyone they’d finish the video, next class.

Warren got up to leave, but Alex stopped him.

“You doing alright?”

“Uh, yeah.” He lied. “I’m not in trouble am I?”

Alex hesitated to answer.

“No.”

Warren nodded, noticeably nervous.

“There’s a rumor going around saying you assaulted Jessie Rowe.”

Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. “I didn’t.”

“Okay… But something happened, didn’t it?”

Warren didn’t respond.

“Warren, you have to tell me what happened.”

“I got tipsy and she kissed me. I thought she was (Y/N), but then (Y/N) walked in and Jessie tried to act like I tried to kiss her.”

Warren’s eyes were pleading— pleading for Alex to not get mad at him for drinking, or mad at him for not speaking sooner.

“Um, no one got hurt, and now there’s just a rumor going around, so you can like, give me detention for drinking or whatever it’s fine—”

“I’m going to have to tell Professor Xavier,” Alex told him.

“Please don’t tell him I was drinking! I can’t— I won’t—”

Alex could see the desperation in his eyes. Warren had nowhere else to go. He, like many other students, depended on Xaiver’s entirely.

“You’re a good kid Warren— you’ve opened up to others, you were sober for almost six months, you have a good group of friends and even a girlfriend— Charles isn’t going to punish you. I just don’t want you to spiral down and lose all the progress you’ve made…”

“I just,” Warren rubbed his eyes. “Don’t wanna make a big deal about it. I’d rather it just blows over. Everyone will eventually forget about it anyway.”

“Are you aware of the rumors involving (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, so, this involves her and Jessie. I know—”

Alex and Warren turned their heads to the door. Someone was opening it.

(Y/N) stepped inside. Warren hadn’t shown up to the library during their shared free period like he said he would, so she was worried about him. Plus, he hadn’t been doing too well since the Halloween party…. Neither of them had been.

Her eyes were pink and purple— she was full of worry for her boyfriend.

“Oh!” She gaped, soon as she saw Warren and Alex sitting at his desk, in the middle of what looked like an important conversation.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” She asked.

“No. You can stay.” Warren told her. (Y/N) dragged a chair over and sat next to him.

“Right, as I was saying, Charles isn’t going to expel you, but he might want to make a police report. I’m not sure what good it will do, but—”

“I don’t want to. It’s not going to do anything but cause problems.”

(Y/N) was immensely confused. She had no idea what they were talking about.

“We’re gonna talk to Jessie, maybe a few of your friends, and knowing Charles, he won’t expel either of you. We’ll do everything we can to get the rumors to stop…”

Oh! It finally clicked in her mind.

It was about the party.

“Okay… Thank— thank you, Alex.”

“Yeah, we should go to Charles’s office— what class do you guys have next?”

“I have lunch.”

“AP art.”

“That’s… Ms. Burnwood, right, (Y/N)?”

She nodded.

“I’ll make sure your absence is excused.”

“Thanks.”

Alex took them up to Charles’s office. Warren then explained everything that happened, while trying to not get his friends in trouble for also drinking.

Jessie was brought up to Charles’s office and questioned. She caved pretty easily, with (Y/N) glaring at her the whole time, and amid their telepathic principal, lying wouldn’t do her any good.

Jessie was “grounded”— she couldn’t leave campus during the semester until after Thanksgiving break— she was also to stop encouraging the rumors, and had to talk with one of the school counselors once a week until they deemed it no longer necessary. Jessie’s parents weren’t in the picture, so notifying them wouldn’t do any good.

Warren’s punishment was less severe, he couldn’t be out later than nine on weekends, (just until Thanksgiving break) and he was required to go to group therapy to help him deal with his former alcoholism and past traumas, for the rest of the school year.

—

“You don’t have to tell me what goes on at group therapy.” (Y/N) told him.

“I know.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone.”

Warren smiled a little, “I know.”

“Okay…” (Y/N) kisses his cheek.

Warren wrapped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope it goes well… it should.”

(Y/N) nodded, “Yeah… Here,” Her hand was in a fist. When she opened it, she revealed a daisy and a four-leaf clover.

“You don’t really need luck or anything but, um, I thought, you know—“

Warren accepted the small gift, taking it from her hand. “Thanks, baby. I love it.”

—

Group therapy was awkward. Warren hated it. He knew it would be good to talk about… well, everything, probably, but he had a hard time opening up to total strangers.

“Alright, in case you’re new or don’t remember, my name is Allison… We have a new member with us today, he’s going to be with us for a while.” Allison looked at Warren. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Okay… Um, my name is Warren.”

Everyone replied with, “Hi, Warren.”

“And um, I’m a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s great! Do you go flying a lot?

“Uh, yeah.”

“What kind of metal are your wings made of?” A girl with washed-out blue hair asked.

“Titanium, I think.”

“Well, Warren, welcome to the group,” Allison interjected, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Now, we’re going to do an ice breaker of sorts, and then just have like, regular conversation. We can all go around and say our favorite color and why.”

Warren blinked. He didn’t— he didn’t have a favorite color.

“And don’t say you don’t have a favorite color. If you can’t pick a favorite, choose one you hate the least… We can start with Trey.”

Warren thought of color options—

Black? No. Black wasn't his favorite, despite being 95% of his wardrobe. It absorbed the most light, helping him blend in with the darkness and look tough, something he needed in Germany.

Blue— The color of Kurt— his roommate and friend, who he tried to kill. Twice. Something he still felt remorse over. And Apocalypse. The man who gave him the metal wings and tattoos, forcing him to aid in mass destruction, only to leave him for dead when he was no longer useful.

Red— the color of Alex’s plasma beams. And how the Horsemen were a result in him almost dying.

White and Silver— the colors of his wings. Past and present. How each reflected hardships from Warren’s life. How he hated them and a child and almost resorted back to that self-deprecation when they shifted into metal and the consequences finally sank in.

But what about green? The color of healthy plants that thrive. The color of (Y/N)’s eyes when she’s happy.

Warren liked the color, despite (Y/N)’s eyes rarely being green around him. However, it didn’t mean she was unhappy with him.

Her eyes were pink around him. A way of saying “I love you” without actually saying it. The pink meant she cared about him more than most people— that she trusted him, accepted him for who he was despite his past, and that she would be there for him when he needed her.

Not many people could say they would do those things for Warren, or that they had.

His father cared more about the family name and how his son couldn’t possibly be a freak. His mother didn’t want his wings to tarnish her image, and while she was still his mother, she left him on his own most of the time.

And how all his past relationships and flings— they didn’t have much meaning. There was never any real affection behind them. They saw the cage fighting king and wanted a piece of that.

(Y/N) looked past all of that. She saw how he responded to what life threw at him. She saw the tough guy act, the big softie, the broken boy who ran away in fear, the man who thought he wasn’t good enough— she brought out his good side, making him realize he deserved happiness, love, and a home, that when you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there.

He decided pink was his favorite color, because it showed someone cared for him in ways he wasn’t used to. He would do anything to keep it around forever.

“Warren, what’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

He got a few funny looks. They were probably expecting him to say black, based on his general aesthetic.

“And why is that?”

“Um, it’s my girlfriend’s eye color… she’s also a mutant.”

Allison smiled, “That’s very sweet.”

She moved on to the next person, “Rose, what’s your favorite color?”

She said, “Green.” But Warren wasn’t paying attention to why.

The ice breaker eventually ended, and Allison shifted the discussion to other things.

“Now Warren, since you’re new, usually new members spend most of their first meeting talking about themselves. Just so we can get to know you and whatnot.”

“Okay… um… anything specific you want to know?”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Okay… So, I was born into a really small family. Just me, my mom, my father, and his brother. I don’t really know what happened to my grandparents. I never asked...

When I was three we moved from Westminster to Centerport.”

“Where’s that located?”

“Oh, uh, Westminster’s close to London.”

Allison looked impressed.

“I went to a private all-boys school when I was little. I don’t remember the name of it though.”

“Were you born with your wings?” Allison asked.

“No.” Warren responded. “They started to grow when I was eleven… I was terrified. I spent almost every day trying to rip them out… but once all the feathers are gone, you’re left with nothing but bone. It hurt like hell, but I used a pocket knife and a razor to try and cut them or at least file the bone down.”

“It wasn’t hard… but it hurt a lot. I spent so much time worrying about my wings and if people would discover them, that I started to fall behind in school… I wasn’t like failing or anything, I had access to all kinds of tutors and everything, but my parents quickly found out I was falling behind. My father was barely aware, telling my mom to ‘deal with it.’ She tried her best, but I was so scared of them discovering my wings…”

Warren sighed, “My parents had a beach house in Italy, and we were supposed to go there for my fall break. I was so terrified. I couldn’t go swimming, they’d see my wings… But I couldn’t find a way out of the trip. I was twelve at the time and my mom… She saw my back when I came out of the shower...”

“She screamed, and my father came running to us. When he saw my back, he was disgusted. The look on his face was drilled into my skull for years. And it wasn’t even that bad, they were just growing back after being cut, so they weren’t even that big… but I just remember how scared my mom was, and how disgusted my father was… I just started crying and apologizing, but it didn’t do anything.”

“We left our trip four days early and I was pulled out of school. My parents decided to homeschool me, which basically meant, cut all contact with everyone from school and have a few tutors come to the house.”

“Did you have contact with anyone outside of your home?”

“I saw some family friends, and one or two kids of my parent’s friends… my parents hired countless doctors and all kinds of people, doing tests on me, trying to find a “cure”. Every time they failed my parents just got more upset— I was becoming a waste of time and money. They were becoming more distant and cold, wrapping themselves up in their work, and I was locked up.”

“What happened to your wings?”

“My mom said the scars they would leave were ugly, but I was forced to let them grow out.”

“My parents were arguing a lot, always sad or angry… mostly because of my wings… I was getting tired, tired of hiding, tired of the arguing, I wanted it all to stop…”

“Can you please stop?” Warren thought he was going to cry.

His father glared at him, disgusted by the wings, and how his son was on the verge of tears.

Warren could hear his parents arguing from down the hall. That’s all they seemed to do when they were home— fight.

Warren blamed himself. If he was just normal. If he didn’t have those damn wings!

He wanted them to stop. He’d do anything to make them stop.

Warren thought about getting on to the roof and jumping. Not even flying down, just falling to his end. His end of suffering, and his loveless, lonely existence.

“Are you going to do it?”

Warren looked over his shoulder to find his father standing behind him. Watching him peer out the highest window in the house.

“No! I— I’m sorry! I wasn’t—”

His father scoffed. “Did I raise a coward?”

Warren couldn’t look him in the eyes. “No sir.”

“I’ve scheduled for you to have spinal surgery next week. Your doctor is coming to prep and evaluate you for it. This surgery should fix you.”

Warren’s eyes were closed, trying not to imagine the pain, trying to not cry in front of his father.

“Or you can fall out the window… in a freak accident.”

“So I jumped out the window. I didn’t fall to my death as he had hoped, but I flew. I flew far away. I flew across the Atlantic for a few hours before I started to get tired. I spotted a ship and I got close. It was a fishing boat, a large one. The crew let me stay for the night until they went back to land… After that, I flew from São Miguel to Cascais. From there I just kind of fucked around Europe.”

Warren sighed. Allison told him to take all the time he needed and he could stop if he wanted for the day. Let someone else talk.

Warren nodded and kept quiet for the rest of the meeting.

—

Alex picked him up when the meeting ended. Alex didn’t ask about the meeting. It wasn’t his business and he knew Warren would talk when he was ready.

“Where do the others think I went?” Warren asked.

“Training. They’re busy anyway, most didn’t notice you were gone.”

Warren silently nodded.

Alex pulled into Xavier’s garage, parking and letting Warren slip out and go up to his room.

Warren kicked his shoes off and laid on his bed, putting in his earbuds and playing some soft songs.

(Y/N) was heading up to Warren’s room to use his shower. She was covered in paint, for she helped clean up after the fourth graders used the art room.

(Y/N) knocked on the door, making sure no one was there before she entered.

Warren didn’t hear her and (Y/N) almost didn’t notice him laying on the bed. When she did, however, her entire demeanor changed.

“Hi, Angel!” She went over to practically smother him in light kisses.

Warren pulled out his earbuds and smiled. “Hi, Flower.”

“When did you get home?” She asked, scooting over to the open side of the bed.

“Like ten minutes ago. What have you been up to?”

“I got paint all over me,” (Y/N) frowned. “I was going to take a shower and wash it off.”

“You can do that. I was just kind of laying here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“If you disassociate your whole day will feel off. You should take a nice relaxing shower with me, instead.”

Warren chuckled.

“Not like that, Bird brain!” She exclaimed. “We can use one of my lush bath bombs and my rose-scented exfoliator.”

“Are you saying I smell?” Warren joked.

“Eh,” (Y/N) shrugged before slipping her bra off and throwing it in the hamper.

Warren scoffed and wrapped his arms around (Y/N), peppering her neck in kisses. “How dare you!” He teased.

“Ah!” (Y/N) laughed. Warren’s lips on her neck tickled her skin. “That’s why I’m going to bathe.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll join you.”

(Y/N) hummed in victory, wiggling out of Warren’s grip, and headed into the bathroom to grab her stuff.

The last time she used the girls’ communal showers was before they were even dating. (Y/N)’s toothbrush made its way into Warren and Kurt’s bathroom, then her shampoo and conditioner, and then eventually most of all her other hygiene products.

(Y/N) set her soap and other things on the edge of the tub and drew up warm water, filling the bathtub up about halfway.

She sprinkled in rose petals and got Warren into the bathroom. They both stripped off their clothes and stepped in the tub. A bit difficult, for Warren had to fold his wings back and get in first, with (Y/N) practically sitting in his lap, face to face, but they made do.

(Y/N) dropped an orange bath bomb in the water and grabbed her jar of exfoliating scrub, rubbing it on her arms and legs to help remove the paint.

Warren closed his eyes and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“How’d it go today?” (Y/N) asked as she grabbed a bar of soap and rubbed it onto her skin.

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry…” She murmured.

“Don’t apologize. It wasn’t terrible… I talked a little bit about my parents.”

(Y/N) nodded as she applied her rose exfoliator onto Warren’s skin.

“I’m really sorry…” Warren let out. He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Baby,” (Y/N) looked into his eyes. “it’s okay.”

“I— I just—“ Warren hiccuped, letting out a choked sob and releasing some tears from his eyes.

(Y/N) rubbed his back, avoiding the tender spot around his wings, whispering, “Let it out, it’s okay, Angel.”

Warren silently cried into (Y/N)‘s shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him in comfort. The emotions he felt almost made him sick— love and affection— and a lot of it too. He couldn’t remember a time before when he felt like that. He never wanted to leave (Y/N)‘s embrace.

Warren lifted his head up and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sorry— um—“

“It’s okay.” (Y/N) cupped his face in her hands, leaving a kiss on each cheek. “Want me to wash your hair?”

Warren nodded.

“C’mere—” (Y/N) grabbed the shampoo from the bathtub ledge, pouring some in her hands, and then lathering it into Warren’s mop of curls.

Her hands gently massaging his scalp felt like a touch of heaven to Warren. He didn’t want to cry again, but he couldn’t help himself. (Y/N) was heartbroken at her boyfriend’s demeanor, but it was good he was letting it all out.

She finished washing his hair and drained the tub— them both getting out— Warren holding onto (Y/N) as she gently dried them both off.

“Thank you, He mumbled.

“Of course, Baby…”

—

Most of their dates shifted to either being at the mansion or during the day. Warren felt bad, having to limit things for them, but (Y/N) didn’t care.

“We can do more stuff during the day… And at night all our friends will be gone… We’ll be all alone…” (Y/N)’s tone was almost teasing. Warren had to chuckle to himself, she was doing her best to make the situation work.

His second group meeting was set a bit later in the day, around 6 pm on a Saturday. Warren told (Y/N) he probably wouldn’t be back until after dark.

“Call me if you need me. I’ll be here—” She motioned to her empty bedroom.

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” He teased.

“You too, Baby.”

Warren drove himself to his second group therapy meeting. Alex offered to drive again, but Warren felt bad having him taking time out of his day to drive him to group therapy.

Not everyone who was at the first meeting was at the second one— but Warren saw some familiar faces.

“Hey, Warren! Welcome back,” Allison greeted him.

“Hi.”

He took a seat near a guy in a grey hoodie with an eyebrow piercing.

“Alright everyone, we’re going to go around, say our name, and if we have any pets. If you don’t that’s okay! You can say, what kind of animals you’re interested in. Let’s start with Collin…”

Warren zoned out for a bit until it was his turn. He didn’t have a pet, and he didn’t really have an interest in a specific animal. People made jokes about him being a bird, but he didn’t necessarily have a connection with them.

“I don’t have a pet… My girlfriend has a lot of plants though…”

“Ooo! What kind?”

“Um… Almost all kinds— her mutation helps grow them and stuff…”

“That’s cool.” Someone commented.

Warren awkwardly nodded. The ice breaker continued around the circle, and when finished, Allison had some people give updates on how they had been since the last meeting, others talked about how they were feeling in general.

“Warren—”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Do you want to continue talking from where you left off last week?”

“I can, sure.”

The floor was given to him, and Warren continued his “backstory”.

“I ended up in Germany. Messing around, staying overnight on stranger’s couches. I tried to find work, but it was hard being almost 15 at this point and no papers… I ran into muggers and they tried to, well, rob me, but I fought back. I wasn’t very good but it got them off and away from me… I ended up in a bar… The last thing I remember was falling asleep and then waking up in a locker room of sorts. A bunch of men shouting in German, um, some in English, but basically I was told to go out into ‘the ring’. People were watching— shouting and cheering, for the other guy in the ring. He was kind of short and hairy, but he had these claws, and he could really kick ass. I barely made it out of there— I didn’t win— but I didn’t die. People enjoyed watching us. They cheered, calling him Wolve-something, and they called me, Angel.”

“I wanted to leave, but the people running the ring gave me some money and I found a place to stay for the night… the job offers weren’t exactly lining up… so I agreed to more fights. I got really good, fighting other mutants, probably in the same situation as me, but I quickly realized, kill, or be killed…”

Warren quickly realized people had very concerned looks on their faces. “I didn’t kill anyone! But I did beat them up pretty badly— the more fights I won the more money I got— and it was that or die… I did it for about two years before I met someone…

I was alone at a bar, I was bruised and a bit bloody, and this girl with purple hair came up to me. She was one of the guards in the fight club— she worked for some guy named Caliban, I think. I don’t remember… Anyway, her name was Betsy. She said she’d been watching me for a while, saying my fighting was impressive but could be improved… Uh, She offered to help me out, and we went back to her place. She helped clean up the blood on me, and um, then we made out, and I spent the night… This went on for a while, she’d watch me fight and give me tips and pointers, and we’d make out and stuff…”

“How long is, awhile?” Allison asked.

“Um, Like two-ish years? I don’t know— but um, we had this like thing going on, and I thought we were maybe dating? I dunno. But whatever we had I fucked up.”

Warren groaned as Betsy aggressively pressed her mouth against his. He had just won another fight and went back to her place to “celebrate”.

“God, B… I love you...”

Betsy froze, her body tensing up.

“What?”

Warren panicked, her face did not seem pleased. “It slipped out— I’m sorry—”

“No… You don’t mean it… We can’t be together.”

“What do you mean?” He asked. “I thought we were together.”

“Angel— this isn’t a relationship— we just fuck while I give you some pointers on your punches.”

“I know this isn’t traditional, we don’t go out on dates—”

“You don’t love me! We’re too young— I’ll lose my job. I spend all this time one you so I don’t lose my job, you’re the best fighter—”

“You keep me trapped here?” Warren asked, slowly piecing things together.

“It’s not like that—” She tried to explain.

“I’ve tried to quit fighting for almost a year now! I told you I wanted to leave, and this whole time you’ve been keeping me here?”

“You’re young and naive, and I’d lose my job, everything—”

Warren stood up, ignoring Betsy’s excuses.

“Where are you going?”

“Away. Since we’re not together and I don’t love you.” Warren slammed the door behind him and headed back to the ring. He needed to let out his anger.

—

Warren went on a winning streak— he won ten fights in a row— the feeling was borderline euphoric, the crowds cheering for their champion, Warren getting to sink someone’s teeth in or watch them fall to the ground.

Warren was amped up for his eleventh fight— the announcer was talking about his next opponent—

“The Incredible Nightcrawler!”

A lanky, devil looking, blue boy fell out of a cage onto the floor of the ring. Warren circled him for a moment before meeting him on the ground.

He wasn’t fighting, just teleporting around the cage in small bursts.

“Fight!” Warren yelled at him. “Or they’ll kill us both!”

The blue boy looked terrified, but he fought back when Warren attacked him.

At one point he managed to drag Warren against the side of the electric cage, burning his wing.

“Ah!” Warren cried out in pain. Suddenly he saw the blue devil escape from the bottom, so in a risky move, he flew up and ripped off the upper walls of the cage, and flew out. His flying was wonky and jagged for one of his wings was broken.

Warren had nowhere to go, so he went back to the one place he shouldn’t have—

Betsy’s place.

—

“I was drunk as shit and angry and this blue wrinkly man came with Betsy and some other girl I didn’t recognize, and he just held his hand out and metal grew out of my back and on top of my wings. I was healed, in a way, but also it kind of ruined my life. The blue man also just held his hand out and gave me these tattoos…”

“You weren’t one of the horsemen with Apocalypse, were you? Like last spring I think… Out in Cario?” One girl in the circle asked.

“Yeah… Um, I never killed anyone, and I don’t do that anymore. The X-Men took me in and I’m trying to get my shit together.”

“We don’t judge here, and from what I’ve heard, the X-Men do great things! Like the Fantastic Four and Spider-Man.” Others in the group murmured in agreement.

“You’re built like a transformer dude,” The guy sitting next to him commented.

“Thanks…”

“I think you can do a lot of good, Warren. You’ve spent a lot of time running from your problems, but you seem like you’re grounded now… I was told you came here because you relapsed.”

“It was an accident— I haven’t drank since.”

“And that’s good! It can be really hard to open up and talk about your past, but you did it…”

Warren nodded along to what Allison said.

“I think you can do even better if you acknowledge your mistakes and learn from them… and don’t be afraid, don’t push them into the back of your mind… I think— if you haven’t already— talk to your girlfriend about some of this. Doesn’t have to be a lot or all at once, but being open and honest does good in relationships.”

“Yeah, um, sounds good.” Warren’s heart fell into his stomach. He was terrified to talk about all of this with (Y/N).

She didn’t deserve the burden. (Y/N) was this innocent, happy, light in his life. Warren didn’t want to ruin that.

He thought (Y/N) was too good for him, and she would eventually realize that and leave him.

But he trusted her. He trusted (Y/N) with his life. Perhaps a bit foolish, but he rarely ever felt sure about those types of things. He decided to trust his intuition.

—

Warren drove home in silence.

He pulled into the garage and put the keys on the key rack before heading up to (Y/N)’s room.

He didn’t even bother knocking on the door. He just walked right in and flopped onto the bed, in (Y/N)’s lap.

She was surprised, but she quickly came to her senses and tried to figure out what happened.

“Baby?...” (Y/N) looked down at Warren’s face as she tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

“I…” Warren burst into tears, all his bottled up emotions coming out at once.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Warren sat up and (Y/N) hugged him tightly.

“I have… things… I want to tell you… about my past…” Warren scrunched his nose.

“My parents and other stuff… but I’m scared.” He admitted.

“Warren, baby, I’m not going anywhere. Tell me whatever you need to, whenever you feel ready, okay?”

He slowly nodded, still crying.

(Y/N) kissed his forehead and rubbed his back, being silent and supportive.

“Can… Can you promise me… Promise me you won’t leave because of my past. I’ve done really bad shit and—”

“I promise I’m not going anywhere. I mean it.” She reassured him.

Warren wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his tears slowing down.

“Thanks…” He mumbled.

“Of course, anything for you, Angel.”

#warren worththington x mother nature #warren worthington #warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #x-men oneshot #x-men x reader #xmen x reader #ben hardy x reader #xmen oneshot #warren worthington iii x mother nature #angel x reader #archangel x reader #warren worthington iii x you #warren worthington x you #mother nature reader

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bubbleteaa · 4 years

Text

Break her heart [Miya Atsumu x Reader]

Part I | Part II | Part III

break her heart;; pairing: miya atsumu x reader [college!au] fandom: haikyuu!! warnings: angst. swearing. suggestive themes word count: 3.6Kish

a/n: Istg that this was a rollercoaster, bc i love so much tsumu but samu is the superior miya ok:c sorry, i have a favourite. n weez, i’m thinking in doing a second part! Hope you enjoy this! :c sorry for the angst babies

Summary: Atsumu breaks your heart.

┅┅┅┅┅┅┅༻❁༺┅┅┅┅┅┅┅

He met you two years ago.

You were in a lot of classes with him, except for calculus. “Ah yes, L/N-san does not give calculation, because of her score on the entrance exam and in the courses before the semester began, they exempted her. She is very smart” that was what they said. And he was curious. Were you that good?

The first time he talked about you, was to demonstrate that he could have all the girls without exception at his feet.

"Atsumu, I heard they said you were a total heartbreaker," they told him exactly those words "You have all the girls behind you, right?"

"I don't pay attention to any. It is one night and that's it. If it is very good, we may become recurring, but not so far. It doesn't bother me anyway, I have plenty to choose from" Atsumu knew what he was saying and he was not lying about it, it was the mere truth. The other boys who were with him began to laugh and the blond frowned a little "What's so funny?"

"Well, you don't exactly have all the girls behind you," then one of his classmates spoke up. Miya frowned and asked who "L/N-san"

"The I-know-it-all girl?" they burst out laughing "I don't like wasting my time"

"Ah, but Y/N-chan is very cute"

"And?"

"I'm sure you couldn't make her fall for you, Miya" they replied with a smile on her face "It's impossible to have all the girls at your feet"

"Oh yeah?" the challenging tone that came out of Atsumu's mouth made the others laugh again.

"You say you can?" was what they replied, challenging Tsumu.

"Sure. It is easy."

❥•°❀°•༢

"If it's not yours, don't take it"

The flickering lights in the club seemed to smile at him. He smelled drunk and his ears were vibrating with the catchiest songs of the moment. He shifted through the crowd while holding a red glass filled to the brim with alcohol. His steps were steady but his mind was spinning. The bitter taste of the ridiculously expensive drink still stung on his tongue and his throat burned like hell. His eyes met a figure he did not distinguish, but he was sure he had seen somewhere. Without thinking, he walked towards the person, his eyelids heavy and smiling with great energy.

He had only one purpose in approaching her. He just wanted one thing.

They were at the chorus of the song when his lips connected to the girl. They tasted like mint with vodka. Her mouth cavity was cold, it tasted like sin, craving. Atsumu groaned before separating and finishing his drink, releasing the glass to continue caressing the woman. She laughed as she tangled her fingers in his dyed hair. The setter's hands were placed on the girl's hips, stamping her against the wall that was a few meters from them.

And the truth was, Atsumu did know who the girl was. She was the girlfriend of one of her teammates. He didn't even know her name, he just knew that sometimes she would send him seductive looks at college games and that she was too good to ignore her. Was what he was doing right? Of course not. Atsumu made mistakes but did not regret them. Atsumu deceived others, but it is a world where you deceive or deceive you. Sometimes you go unnoticed and other times you are the big shot. As simple as that.

In his head, he could only think of how the situation went from being cold kisses to groping to a melting ice cube for the summer. Now they were in the cubicle of the men's room. The body of the young woman stuck to him, connected by sweat, by unfaithful kisses, by flavors of whiskey with deceit. With his thoughts found in a numb state, he didn't even notice when he entered her.

I was just horny, he thought. He just wanted to satiate the horny state he was in and didn't think exactly who. Well, he did. With someone who also wanted to be with him. But that someone did not belong to him, and it was not as if he knew him, it was just a carnal deception on his part; but for the other person, it reached all kinds of state. Selfishness, hatred, jealousy. Maybe it was those emotions talking. Perhaps it was the thought that he didn't need someone else and that he had Miya wrapped around his finger.

But boy, was he so wrong.

After that, they were both a mess gasping, trying to get a breath, trying to process what they had done.

"Don't you have a girlfriend, Miya?" Those were the words that came out of the girl's mouth. No, it wasn't like he was in a relationship with you. What's more, what were you? What were you to him? You weren't interested in him and still, everyone assumed you both were together "L/N-san, right?"

L/N. His L/N. It was stupid to claim it as his property when there was no title for what you were. You were just a girl who was always there for him and he took advantage of your feelings for him. Did he need a favor? He knew you could do it for him. Did he need a place to stay for the night? He knew you would even offer him your bed if he was very tired. Did he need to vent his anger and frustrations with someone? You were there. Did he need love? You were already holding his hand without being asked.

But he never thought those were signs of a love relationship without being in a relationship. He only remembered you for being someone who would always be there for him and with him. He just saw you as an escape. From others and himself.

But no more than that.

"We are nothing. You do not have a boyfriend?" The setter was released in a playful tone. Almost as if he was mocking the girl's actions. She was silent and averted her gaze “Ah, nervous, embarrassed? A few minutes ago you were not ”

"This was a mistake," he said after processing on the girl's situation. He was sorry. Sure. She wanted Miya, but she didn't want to have him. She just wanted to give him a taste. And she regretted it "Do not tell anyone about what happened today"

"It's not like I'm interested anyway" he shrugged his shoulders and smiled "I wasn't unfaithful to anyone after all"

And in part he was right.

But he was partly lying.

They both fixed their clothes before leaving the bathroom. Atsumu immediately felt a fist collide with his cheek.

And then he felt another blow.

And another.

"What the fuck, man!?" Atsumu received one in the stomach but he managed to defend himself. He stared with her brown eyes at the attacker. Ah, it was the partner of the girl, the same boyfriend of the girl he had just fucked.

❥•°❀°•༢

"If it is not right, then do not do it"

Atsumu pulled out his cell phone while wiping the blood from his lip. He took the shit out of him. But he deserved it, deep down he knew he deserved it. He was close to the university dormitory complex. Every step was numb with pain.

He dialed the phone number. The first marked lost. The second one too. He roared angrily and tried one last time.

"Tsumu?" your voice was numb. Atsumu tried to suppress the gasp of pain "Are you alright? It's 3 in the morning"

"Can you open your apartment door for me?"

It was sad, to tell the truth. He and Osamu had not been to the same university and there was no one to take care of the stupid mess Atsumu created every time he walked somewhere or to someone.

So Y/N was also his for that. So she could clean up his messes. So that she could advise him and take care of him. To have the warmth and personal and sympathetic affection that he missed.

But he was just using her, after all.

"Uh, yeah. You're good? You sound dejected,” you asked with notable concern. Your voice was so soft and loving even when the Miya seemed to have interrupted your sleep. He smiled at your words and let out a sigh.

"I just fought with an idiot. Nothing new"

"What? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you? Do you need me to look for the medkit? Where are you?" God Tsumu, do you need me to pick you up?”

For a moment, Atsumu felt guilty. But it was a moment that lasted years in his head. Your soft voice changed dramatically and now it was racing, almost desperate and breaking as you spoke. Why did you care so much about him? At this point, he didn't even remember how he had finished most of his university experience in your apartment or next to you. He only remembered the times when he had already put you in the same situation, where you were on the verge of crying for his problems.

How you unconsciously told him how hopelessly in love you were with him.

"Shh, I'm fine, doll. I'm almost here, just leave the door open"

"Does it hurt somewhere specific?" your voice seemed to hang by a thread as you asked him. Miya sighed with some pain.

"They hit me in the face and stomach"

He heard how you made a sound similar to a complaint holding back the crying. You were angry and worried. And you had every right to be. Atsumu slightly opened his eyes when you let out a broken sigh to start crying.

"Atsumu, what did you do to get hit?"

What did I do? Nor did he know what he did. He had gotten drunk, had danced with different girls. He had slept with one who was the girlfriend of one of his teammates. Then the boy found out. Atsumu hurt his ego and well, they ended up giving him the beating of the year. And everything, why? Did he really have a reason to do all that? Did his actions make sense?

"I…"

He didn't know what to say, he just kept walking while he got to your apartment.

Even before he could tell her and knock on the door, Y / N already had the door open and the cell phone against her ear. When she looked at him, she felt her heart break into a thousand pieces. His lip was cut and his hair was all messed up, he seemed to move with some difficulty and his face was screaming drunk everywhere.

Atsumu always broke her heart, and she always tried to repair his.

Miya hung up the call so he could get closer to her. The difference in size was noticeable, but not that did not prevent the blonde from collapsing in the arms of the eyed-e/c. Y/N dropped her cell phone and hugged him carefully, tried to keep her balance, but Miya was too heavy, the moment her body collided with the girl's figure, she couldn't avoid two steps back, about to fall.

But she was able to hold it, like all the times he broke into L/N's delicate and soft arms.

Miya's strong arms wrapped around Y/N, pressing her against him, wanting to feel her fragrance closer and closer to him. He held her tightly, but not as tightly as he desire. He just wanted to hold onto her. What she broadcast to him. To the feeling of love.

He wanted to be wanted, not just carnally.

He wanted to feel loved.

"Atsumu?"

He wanted to be from someone.

He wanted to be yours.

The words that came out of her strawberry lips intoxicated him. The way his name sounded in her voice was angelic. The way he stroked her hair, her fingers wrapped in the dyed blonde strands. The way her body trembled from the weight he held on her.

Oh he remembered. He remembered why he did everything he did.

"I need you"

He looked at her eyes. Damn, those color e/c eyes. Those eyes that made him confuse not once, not twice, but thousands of times. Atsumu awkwardly entered the apartment with her. Y/ Nhad her heart leaking out of her mouth.

Miya Atsumu had never said those words to her.

He had never acted like this, had never needed her before. They were just friends. Well, she loved him with all her might and had always been willing to be there for him, no matter the time, distance, or place. But, they were just friends, after all.

His fingers dug into the girl's h/c strands. His face came dangerously close to hers and their breaths collided. Oh Y/N could feel the alcohol emanating from him and it was impossible not to smell it, the nervous eyes of L/N met the brown eyes of Miya, he just looked at her with hunger, with desire, needy. "Atsu?" your voice trembled like a little bird just hatched. "Atsu, you have your lips all cut-" Atsumu smiled before colliding his lips with yours.

So soft. So cute. So, mine.

He held your figure firmly while desecrating your mouth with need. The metallic taste of blood mixed in the first kiss they shared. There were groans from you, trying to keep up with him. Your hands met his neck and you held on to him.

What remained of the night passed into the room.

❥•°❀°•༢

The hangover the next morning was killing him. His head looked like a pool table, and every hit they hit the balls echoed in his brain. He growled angrily as he stroked his temples. The heat of the summer and the rays of the sun seeped through the window of the room. Atsumu blinked to find a smaller figure beside him. A figure he knew. A figure that was always by his side.

Y/N.

Fuck. I have to get the fuck out of here.

Atsumu moved as delicately as he could, removing the blanket that covered them and rising with utmost silence, gathered up his clothes before putting them on. He turned a little to see L/N. Her hair was watered by the pillow and her expression looked so serene that it hurt Atsumu for a moment to leave her there. Alone.

It was just a fuck. Nothing more.

Her breathing became heavy before closing h eyes due to the horrible pain he felt in his body. The headache was throbbing while his abdomen and face felt like a punching bag. He groaned in pain, one loud enough for the girl to open her eyes full of concern.

"Atsu?" no, no, no, fuck. Atsumu didn't turn to see you, instead he grabbed the door handle "Do you need advil?" He could hear you getting out of bed and just closed his eyes tighter. He let out a weary, irritated sigh. "Let me help you, Tsumu. It’s okay” you hugged him from behind, placing your check against his back.

Just treat her like the others. Just break her heart.

"If it's not true, don't say it"

Atsumu grabbed both of your hands and pulled them away from his chest, turning his head slightly to meet your confused and worried gaze.

So tiny. So fragile. So mine…

"I’ll be clear Y/N. I was drunk, I needed a place to stay. Things got heat up and we fucked. That’s all. You don't mean anything more than just another fuck. And of course, you are my friend, that’s why I have to tell you that I don’t feel anything for you” his eyes were glued to hers, without blinking. He could see how the girl's gaze began to collapse and began to fill with sadness and despair. “If you thought that this would mean something, well, now you know that it doesn't. I need to go. Bye, see you around ”

"Don't go, Atsumu" you begged, holding his arm tightly, but your hands trembled with fear, with sadness "Please, don't go" your words dragged with fear as you continued to beg "Did it really mean nothing? You do not love me?"

"Damn, Y/N. No, you can't make me stay" he turned for the first time to meet your face, completely in front of you, you were fighting tears, you were trying to keep your voice from breaking while he kept rejecting you over and over again "I love you" he said softly "But not enough to stay,” he lied, again. He took your face in his hands and felt how your cheeks began to redden and how the tears came out of your eyes and collided with his fingers “What happened yesterday should not have happened. It was a mistake, I was very drunk and you were very sensitive "

"Am I not enough?"

"No" stopped immediately, Atsumu, don't do it like this "I really have to go, Y/N. Let go of me" he sighed again, you tightened your grip, refusing to believe him "Y / N, now, let go of me "wiped your tears as he stared at you" Please "

"All was a lie?" you dared to ask, and immediately a lump formed in your throat.

"What do you mean by all?"

“Us”

"There was never a us. We were never more than teammates, more than friends. If you ever felt like I wanted to be with you, I'm sorry. It is not like this. I repeat it to you again, because apparently you don't understand it” he made you look at him while he brought his face close to yours “I don't feel anything for you, Y/N”

"Atsumu, why ..."

"Y/N!" your eyes filled with terror, he had never raised his voice at you "Stop asking meaningless questions! Is it so difficult for you to understand that I played with you? It was all a damn game!" The boy's head kept pounding from the hangover. Your eyes went to him with a look he had never shown before, disappointment.

Disappointed in him or in yourself?

"Everything?" your voice was almost inaudible at those points in the conversation.

"Everything, Y/N. All kisses on the forehead, all holding hands, all the walks to your apartment. All those "study dates" that I asked you for. All those movie nights. All the damn sleepovers. All the words I told you that surely excited you. Everything. You were so damn naive. It was so easy and simple. It was all to show others that you could fall at my feet like all the others”

What the fuck are you saying, Atsumu? Stop.

"All the others...?"

"My God, Y/N. To be so smart you have a hard time understanding some things” he smiled with some anger “Yes, Y/N. Like all the others. Like all the ones I fucked with”

Atsumu couldn't hear your heart, but he knew it was already more than broken. He knew he was ruining everything. Everything he had accomplished with you.

It was no longer simply showing that you could fall in love with him. It was no longer that.

It was to show you that he had fallen in love with you, too. But he couldn't say it, he refused to believe it. He refused to break his heart in the process of breaking yours. He had always been selfish, always. Why was it bothering him now? Was he doing the right thing?

You pushed him away from him and started crying uncontrollably. The way your body trembled and your crying intensified as the seconds ticked by was driving him mad, it was hurting him. He stroked her temples again, the headache was growing little by little.

"If you don't know, shut up"

“Don't do anything stupid because of what I did or said. I don't love you as you love me, but that shouldn't break our friendship. So calm down, drink some water and you're done. It’s not that bad”

You didn't answer him for the first time in the morning.

And he left you in there, broken. He knew, he knew what he did. He always lied to you. He knew that he broke your heart so many times and in so many ways.

When he reached the door of the apartment he could hear your whining accompanied by beatings to what he supposed was your wall and he sighed again, opened the door, and left.

❥•°❀°•༢

Memories of last night appeared on his head while he drank from the whiskey bottle.

"I love you" he murmured in your ear the night before, his strong arms covered your little figure "I love you so damn much, you are mine" he kissed your lips softly before looking into your eyes, "Say it, say that you are mine”

“I’m yours, Atsumu” your voice saying those words were heaven and hell “I love you more” the little smile that crept all over your face was intoxicating, he kissed you again.

“Never forget how much I love you, my angel” I kissed your head before wrapping his arms all over your body “Not even if I fucked up, not even if I lied to you. Not even if I broke you into pieces, please remember that I love you more than I can say, please, Y/N. Please"

You smiled and kissed his cheek.

"Okay. Don’t forget that I’ll always be by your side, you dummy”

"Even if I break your heart?"

"Even if you break my heart"

He smiled again and pressed a sincere kiss on your lips "I'll try to not break your heart, anyway"

"I'll try not to hate you if you do it anyway, then" and both of you laughed.

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