#What You're Thinking Of ? [You've Seen Me Bare]

[citrustan]

dating girl (jjk)

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you try to convince yourself that you're really okay with 'casually dating' your crush.

genre: college au, fwb kinda thing but more than friends ygm? angst!

"Are they allowed to cancel an entire day at college? That can't be good for anyone..." Your mother ponders out loud as you walk around the city hand-in-hand.

"There's not much you can do if someone decides to paint over every projector lens on campus." You nod.

"Lucky for me, I get to spend time with my little baby," she nuzzles her nose into your hair, squeezing you in a side-hug, "Still can't believe we have to schedule our hangouts now."

"Yeah, there's that..." You smile half-heartedly.

You stop near a flower stall, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It's especially crowded because of your university abruptly cancelling a bunch of classes.

After your day had freed up unexpectedly, you had invited your sorta but not really boyfriend, Jungkook, to go cafe hopping to find where all the good teas are because you knew he'd bee available. But he never responded.

So your mood has been a bit damp all day.

You had just stepped out of this store that sold handmade sweaters and yarn balls. Not even a good shopping spree could lift your spirits.

What definately doesn't help is randomly seeing said sorta but not really boyfriend who didn't respond to your texts out and about with some leggy blonde girl.

You've never seen her around.

Not that you know every single person on campus, but if they've crossed Jungkook's path, you know them.

They're dining together al fresco, at one of the cafes you had literally listed in your text to Jungkook.

Talk about a slap in your face.

For a second, you think she might just be his sister or something.

That thought bubble is quickly shot at with a razor sharp arrow when you see him kiss her knuckles.

Your eyes involuntary darken, and your mouth forms a pout. The kind one has when they're trying to hold back a cry or a sob.

All the while, your mother had talked about your grandparents' separation, the local diner having caught fire, and matching mother and daughter shoes she had bought for your birthday.

You were listening passively so you didn't quite catch everything.

"You're still seeing him, aren't you?" She tilted her head in confusion.

When your mother notices the look on your face, she frowns, following the line of your vision.

At spotting Jungkook and mystery girl, she gasps angrily, "Oh, no, he sucks." She turns back to you, "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"No, mom, this is normal," you smile weakly, "And it's okay."

"Yes." You nod, "I am."

"But then he's there," she points at the pair with her chin, "seeing her. How's that okay?"

"It just is, mom! Really," you attempt to convince your mother (and yourself) that you were 100% fine with witnessing Jungkook out with other women. "We're keeping things casual. Very... casual."

"And that's a mutual decision?" She confirms.

"We both agreed." You concur.

Your mother's still unsure about your choices. "Well. Okay then."

You glance at Jungkook and mystery girl one last time.

The picture isn't pretty. He's leaning into her ear and has his large hand placed over her bare thigh as she caressed his arm with her much smaller hand, thoroughly enjoying his attention.

Your mother watches your expression go stiff, "So, how does this work?"

Snapping you out of your daze, she pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes.

When you frown at her she sighs, "Sorry..."

"Oh. Um..." You exhale, "Well, we see each other and we see other people, and that's that. We're cas-" - "Yeah, casual, I heard." Your mother interrupts your blabber.

"It's ok." You look down at your feet, kicking a few stray pebbles out of the way.

"I just--- I thought you guys were sleeping together." She blurts.

"Mom!" You exclaim, looking around to see if anyone had heard her, "It's not that big of a deal. I want this too. And I need to learn to date too."

Again, you try to ease your mind about your decision.

You lightly cringe and look around, "Uh... Nobody yet. But this guy from one of my extras--- his name's Hoseok but we call him Hobi, or Hoba, depending on how close you are to him--- anyway, he asked me out to a halloween theme party next week."

"So who else are you dating?" She asks pointedly.

This is suddenly getting very exhausting.

Your mother gives you a knowing look, deciding to play along anyway, "Oh! You've never mentioned him before."

"Mhm. Because it's new." You hunch your shoulders nervously.

The party was hosted by the student body to raise funds for, you don't know, collegiate stuff.

You had imagined going with Jungkook, with matching Dentist and Tooth Fairy couple costumes. But he hadn't asked you yet and you definitely weren't going to bring it up first.

Maybe you can do the look with Hoseok instead.

It's less than a week away, so you're not expecting anything from him either. He probably already has another date lined up.

You wonder if it's the blonde he's with now.

"So, are you gonna do it?"

"Do what?" Was she in your head?

"Go with Hobi or Hoba." She makes air quotations for 'Hobi or Hoba.'

"Oh, yeah. Yep. Definitely." Suddenly remembering, you add, "Oh and can you make me my costume? I want to be the Tooth Fairy?" You softly ask her, knowing it's a little last minute, but also knowing she wouldn't deny you.

"Why of course! Does... Hobi need a costume too?" She asks carefully.

"Oh, no. Probably not." Well, you don't know. You don't know if his offer even stands now and you might end up not going at all.

Your mother rubs your shoulder, "Ask him and let me know, 'kay?"

You force out an uncomfortable smile and nod, "Thanks."

Although your mother's not convinced, she decides to drop the topic all together.

"Well, that's good," she smiles down at you warmly, "Do you want to get that sweater exchanged?"

It was vague, but you appreciated her attempt either way.

"Mhm. Back to the store we go." You narrate with an airy laugh.

Your mother was in the lead, already making her way to the store you had just walked out of.

Once again, your gaze falls on Jungkook and his date, and to your surprise he was staring right back at you.

You want to give him a little smile. To show him you're unbothered. But you couldn't seem to force one out this time.

So you settle with giving him a small wave, which he returns, mirroring your expression.

His date follows his line of sight and spots you too, giving you a tight smile. It's not passive aggressive, just... decent. Not polite either. But why should she be?

Jungkook blinks at you as you hurriedly leave trying to keep up with your mother.

Maybe you should focus on Hoseok for now.

note: nobody asked for this but i was feeling a little silly :p needed some angsty ouchie with the possibility of a favourable conclusion so i indulged!

hey bonus points if you can tell what inspired this! and if you read all this lmk what you think regardless :D

[tragedy-of-commons]

HI GWEN POOKIE CONGRATS ON 200 IM SO PROUD OF U !!! U DESERVE IT SM <33

can i req “who did this to you” + xiao + romantic

teehee 🫶

"Who did this to you?"

Xiao trembles with an energy he knows all too well. It's wispy and dark and miasmic, keening at the idea of tearing whoever or whatever roughed you up like this to shreds.

Despite your swollen eye and bruised knuckles, you only smile at him in response, not an iota of dejection swaying your form. It's one of the things about you that intrigues him, loathe as he is to admit it - you're never seen without a performance of bared teeth or stretched lips.

But even if you're unaffected, that doesn't change that you're hurt, that you've been threatened by some unknown force, and Xiao wasn't there to protect you--

"Well, hello to you too," you swallow, sensing his unease and repressed rage. "Um, nothing like that happened, promise! One of my friends is visiting in the area, and we decided to spar. Like old times."

Adeptus Xiao knows what sparring is, and he knows what injuries (maybe not mortal...) sustained from those lessons look like. He's fairly certain, despite you being his only human companion, that you're not supposed to be limping.

He can't touch you right now, as much as his impure heart flooded with sin yearns for it. Before he ever trusts himself to comfort you, he'll sit on his hands and remain still for centuries.

"This friend," he almost chews the syllables, "I require a name."

You purse your lips, looking out towards the melting skyline. "That's not how this works. He isn't a threat, okay? These are superficial wounds. Sometimes it just gets intense... if he'd gone easy on me, it'd ruin the whole point of the fight."

His eye twitches, and the voices recede, if only for a moment.

You are never without merit, despite how others may dismiss you. Xiao does know what it's like to be caught up in the throes of combat. Plus, you've tried to reason with him about 'how he gets'. Normally, being told off by a mortal would earn them his silent ire, but even he can't deny he feels like a scolded dog.

...but you are important to him, so he'll let it slide like he always does.

"If he truly wounds you," Xiao starts, considerate, "I need to know."

Blessed with your grin once more, you take a step closer. He's not scared of you, per se, but the Adeptus' hackles start to raise instinctually. What if he hasn't calmed down enough yet? Should he play it safe and go about his duties, if only to make sure none of his penance unjustly latches itself onto you?

Should he run the tip of his spear through every menace to Liyue, soaked in viscera, wracked with the phantoms of your injuries?

"Xiao," you whisper. "Listen to me."

No. He won't do that, because you're right here, and you are alive.

"I'll make sure to call you if that ever happens. I'm safe," he hears a bird cawing somewhere as you take ahold of his ring finger. Of course, it's devoid of any wedding band - customs such as that are below and of no use to him - but the gentle grip of your hand is close enough.

It's a silent promise; one that Xiao needn't repeat, but he will anyway.

You're fine - you're not to be taken from him. In order for you to trust him with your mundane secrets and joyous laughter, he needs to trust you to fight your own battles.

He only nods solemnly, recovering at his own pace. "Did you... achieve victory?"

Letting go of him, in a headache-inducing, booming voice, you boast, "Did you think I could show my face around here if I didn't?! These marks are nothing! You should've seen what he looked like after I wiped the floor with him! Honestly, all of my old pals have gone soft--"

Xiao is once again swept up in the whirlwind that is you. Curbing his overprotective instincts, your relationship is something he holds sacred. For as long as he's able, he wishes to relish in the dynamic, even if he's undeserving of it.

(...and perhaps also because he's a little concerned you may 'wipe the floor with him' too.)

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: i hope you enjoy where i took this, ray! i know it's a bit shorter than average ^^" but i did enjoy writing xiao in this setting. your support means everything to me! silly yaksha. barely proofed since i'm sleepy...

event post here

[megameatymatt]

Step By Step - Matt Sturniolo

summary: Matt finds out about y/n's ED relapse

WARNINGS: e@t!ng d!sorder, swearing, throwing up, gagging, crying, self-hatred/insecure, feelings of hopelessness, overthinking

If you or anyone you know is dealing with an ED or substance abuse, call or text:  1-800-662-4357.

word count: 766

requested?: nope

A/N: I was feeling sad so all of you must suffer with me. Feedback, interaction, and requests are appreciated! ok bye

Pink: Y/n

Blue: Matt

------------------------------------------------------------

Matt knows you've dealt with an eating disorder in the past. He wasn't there during it, but you've talked to him about it and answered some of his questions. It didn't make you any less perfect in his eyes. To him, all that mattered was you being okay. But you weren't.

Four years later, you feel like you're falling back into it all over again—all the progress you've made, discarded within just a couple weeks.

You stare at yourself in the mirror and wish someone different stared back at you. You pinch at the skin on your thighs, stomach, and arms and wish the fat would disappear.

You sob silently. How can someone hate themselves so much, How couldn't you hate yourself so much, Y/n? Look at you, just look at you! You're lucky matt even stays. Thoughts circle around your head like a halo. Leaving you in nothing but shatters.

You walk to the toilet, shove a finger down your throat, and gag

The cycle begins.

Two weeks later, you walk into your kitchen to find Matt standing there. "Good morning, angel, I'm making pancakes. How many do you want." The thought of putting food in your mouth makes you sick. "Um, Matt, I'm not hungry." Matt frowns. "You love my pancakes, baby, what's the matter?" you shuffle through your brain, thinking of an excuse. "I'm full from last night, Y'know, the pizza." You, Matt, nick, and Chris had had a movie night. The boys ordered pizza and snuggled up on the couch as you all giggled.

"I watched you the whole night, Y/n, I didn't see you take a single slice," he says, flipping a pancake. "In fact i haven't seen you eat much at all lately, You alright?" Eat? How can he suggest such a thing? doesn't he want me to be pretty? i wanna be good enough to wear a bikini. I wanna be good enough to wear skin tight dresses, i wanna be good enough for him.

You shake away these thoughts trying your best to keep your composure. "I'm good, just give me one okay?" you say letting out a sigh. He smiles "Comin' right up princess" He hands you a plate with a pancake, syrup, whipped cream and some strawberries. Matt has already started digging into his own plate.

just a few bites Y/n, just let Matt think you're okay

You pick up your fork and knife with shaky hands, cut yourself a piece and quickly shove it it your mouth. Your body wants to immediately reject it, but you take a few more bites.

As soon as you swallow your first bite, it flies back up your throat. You get up and run to the bathroom. Matt follows you with concern. "Are my pancakes that bad?" he says, running after you. But as he walks into the bathroom. He notices how frail you've become. Tears are running down your eyes, and he finally realizes. You finish puking and flush the toilet and lean against the wall, almost lifelessly.

A few tears escape Matt's eyes. How could he be so stupid? how didn't he put it together? It was so obvious. He could've helped you. Why would you do this?

He runs out of the bathroom to get a glass of cold water, then quickly comes back to hold you. The only thing that could escape from his mouth was "Why"? "Just look at me, Matt, I hate it, I hate my body so fucking much, Matt, you don't even understand," you say, trying your best to yell, tears running down your face.

Matt is completely taken aback "But you're so beautiful, baby, You're hurting yourself. You were doing so good." You sob in Matt's arms, barely able to speak. "I-I'm sorry, Matt. I just wanted to be pretty." Your words felt like a knife in Matt's stomach.

''I tried so hard to fight it, Matt, I didn't want to go down this path again. I promised you I wouldn't. The words spill out like vomit, "But I did it anyway, Matty." You whine, "And it's worse than before. I'm so ashamed Matt. I'm sorry i'm putting you through this" Tears rush you your face, and you're shaking uncontrollably. The knife in Matts stomach only gets pushed deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry i never noticed Y/n, i'm so fucking stupid. The signs were so clear, i could've helped you." He wipes the tears off your cheeks. "But i'm gonna help you now baby." "I can't Matt" "we're gonna do it together okay? Step by step, Y/n. We'll be just fine"

Taglist: @sturnobsessedwh0re

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back. 

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone. 

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression. 

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind. 

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore. 

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe. 

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore. 

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret. 

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast. 

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later. 

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in. 

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage. 

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly. 

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss. 

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you. 

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic. 

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you. 

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst. 

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers. 

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing. 

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand. 

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin. 

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule. 

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'. 

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch. 

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself. 

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms. 

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point. 

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them. 

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town. 

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on. 

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you. 

You couldn't sleep. 

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself. 

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night. 

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company. 

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away. 

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless. 

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway. 

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor. 

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors. 

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up. 

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest. 

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad. 

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down. 

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted. 

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least. 

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form. 

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out. 

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did. 

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks. 

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again. 

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk. 

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take the hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

[sturnsdc]

ART CLASS AU!

pair: Carl Grimes x fem!reader

synopsis: Yn has feelings for her classmate, Carl, but she never does anything about it. However, things seem to work in her favor when they have to work on a project together for the art class.

warnings: no TWD scenes, just fluff, slight angst, somewhat obsessive behavior ??

words: 2,4k

A/N: to make the narration clearer: at all times, Yn is writing in her diary, which is why at times she will speak about Carl, and at other times it may seem like she’s speaking directly to him (but she’s not)!! For the most part, it’s just a bunch of fragments from her diary, as she explains a bit at the end.

this came to my mind suddenly; i apologize for it being so short.

the words in italics are the lyrics of the song !!

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

main masterlist carl masterlist

YN´S POV

you look pretty good today

is it me or did you shave?

sometimes i wonder if it's normal, if it's real. With each passing day, he seems to become more handsome, and like a magnet, he keeps drawing my gaze again and again. It feels like i can't control it.

i notice when he wears a new shirt, or when he’s wearing the same pants from a few days ago. I notice when he forgets something, when he’s focused, or when he gets distracted.

i just can’t stop noticing him.

good, you've been looking at me twice as more

so i can see your face

when we make eye contact, i feel like i’m going to die. My heart races, my cheeks turn red, my hands sweat, and i stop breathing. Even my stomach tightens, my whole body tenses up. The first time it happened, i thought i was having an attack.

secretly, i enjoy it because when i feel his gaze, i have an excuse to turn my head, look at him, and smile. I don’t even know where i find the courage, but he smiles back at me, with tight lips, then looks away after a few seconds.

my friends told me not to overthink it, that maybe i’m just misinterpreting things. They say if “i keep analyzing every time we make eye contact”, i’ll end up falling for him, and then he’ll break my heart by not feeling the same way.

you sit across from me in the classroom

but do you even know my name?

then i tried to avoid him. He probably doesn’t even know who i am. Does he even know my name? i doubt it; they hardly ever say it out loud in class. I don’t even know everyone else’s names.

but then everything seems to align, and the teacher walks to that side of the room while giving the lesson, as if she knows i’m following her with my eyes. And there he is, on the other side of the classroom, in his plaid shirt and with those pretty eyes, taking notes on everything she’s saying… while i lose my breath and forget what i was listening to.

Carl... i do know your name.

if you want to ask me how i am

don't hesitate

it was a couple of days after the teacher announced the final project. The art class would have to hold a fair, showcasing our own works, from paintings to ceramics. It had to be in pairs, but we couldn’t pick our usual partners. We had to step out of our bubbles and take a risk.

i thought about him, but my embarrassment consumed me, so i let the days pass. And just two days before the next class, i ran into him in the hallway. He seemed surprised. His blue eyes looked at me in a strange way, almost like he was unsure of something. Then he made a move to come closer, and i started to get nervous.

he did it; i didn’t expect him to. He spoke to me, asked if we could pair up, and all i could do was say yes, with a dazed look and stumbling over my words. Then he smiled, like i’d never seen him smile before. His face lit up, and he walked away, happy.

did i do the right thing? how am i gonna focus if i could barely even speak to him?

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

i have to admit, Carl Grimes is a special guy. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the little details i’ve noticed, about the brief interactions we’ve had. It’s like my world is starting to revolve around him.

he’s a gentleman—so masculine yet so gentle. He speaks to me with such care, even though i’ve seen him outside of class, joking roughly and arguing with his friends. He’s the complete opposite.

i like this side of him, when he focuses all his attention on me, asks for my opinion, and smiles at me. I haven’t seen him talk like that with anyone else. 

should i get my hopes up?

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

we started talking about the project.

he’s so smart, coming up with amazing ideas, and i stress over not knowing which one to choose. however, he doesn’t seem worried; he waits for my answer patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, which isn’t true since we have to submit the work plan by the end of the class. but he doesn’t pressure me—he asks for my opinion on each idea and helps me weigh the pros and cons.

we chose one together, and then i started writing our plan.

but… something… feels off. We keep making eye contact, and i smile like a fool, watching as he does the same. Is this really happening? i feel like we’re in a bubble. time no longer exists, air isn’t even necessary—just us.

and then i find myself hoping that he feels the same, because i love how it feels to talk to him, to be the center of his attention, even if just for a moment.

an art class

an art class

art class used to be my escape from other subjects, a room where i felt safe. Then i saw him, and it became more than just that. Thinking about art class sends tingles through my body and instantly puts a smile on my face. My heart races like crazy, and i’m filled with excitement. And it’s all because of him.

now, art class has become something that makes me genuinely happy, motivating me to go to school.

even with the project, i’ve never been this excited to work on an assignment before, but now that i’m at his house, meeting his dad and his sister, and then heading to his room to start working on our project… i feel like i love classwork.

why do you always stick to smiling

and sit still being so quiet?

i feel like he's in the hallways more often now, because i see him every day. Sometimes i'm just turning a corner, and there he is, with his group of friends, laughing and being the smiley guy i used to see only once in a while. 

he's everywhere, all the time. What's going on?

now it's impossible not to notice him, because he's always there. Sometimes i don't even have to see him, because i can hear his laugh, or his friends', and i know we’re in the same place. 

how can he be so loud, but so damn quiet in class? i don’t get it.

it's like a completely different version of him, but i don't mind at all, it's just... weird. 

i've been pretty distracted for some days

and it's ruining my diet

the days go by, and each time i get to know him more and more. He's amazing, funny, super smart, mature, and adorable. I've also gotten to know his family better, and i understand more where that calm and controlled side he shows in class comes from.

everything seems wonderful, and i know my feelings are only growing with each passing minute, but he's starting to occupy my mind all the time, and that's becoming a problem.

my friends talk during lunch, but all i can think about is our conversation from the day before, when we got sidetracked from the project, and he started explaining the story of one of his comics. I can remember how his eyes lit up as he told me about it, and i just kept asking questions, even though i already knew the stories. I love the passion with which he spoke about it. I remember his tone of voice, the way he moved his head, and how his eyes looked at me so attentively. I recall almost every word, but then, when my mind is at its peak, i see my friends getting up from their seats, looking at me with puzzled and concerned faces.

lunch ended, and i didn’t even touch my food.

Carl Grimes, i need to figure this out soon.

if you don't take the hint already

i'm afraid i'll start a riot

i’m trying to figure out if it’s just me, Carl, but i really don’t understand—do you look at me the way i look at you?

now i try to avoid looking at you if i don’t have to, but then i feel a constant gaze, and when i turn my head, there you are, trying to look away as quickly as you can. Am i imagining this?

i feel the frustration building inside me, Carl. I need to know.

today, i try wearing different clothes, the ones i save in my closet for occasions outside of class, the ones i wear when i feel confident. But this time, i don’t feel that way. This time, i’m scared. I want you to notice. I want to know if you care, if you’ll say something.

'cause you make my whole world go crazy

yeah, your smell just sends me flying

and you did, Carl. You told me i looked good, then you got nervous and said i always look good, just that this time i looked different. If you only knew how much that meant to me.

since then, days have gone by, and i feel like you’re paying more attention to me— or have you always done that and i’m just now noticing?

you also started wearing a new cologne; it’s stronger and lingers in the air when you pass by me. Is that on purpose? now i can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, and that alone is enough to keep me floating, my mind in paradise, thinking about how much i like you.

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

today i told my friends how i feel about you. They looked at me with pity and talked to me like i was a little girl. They say you don’t feel the same, that i’m imagining everything, and that i’ll end up hurt if i keep this up.

am i really that out of my mind? they say i’m obsessed, that i’m seeing things where there aren’t any.

but they were the ones who told me the first time you looked back at me.

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

i've spent some nights crying, and now i’m trying to avoid you. It's so hard when we still have to keep working on the damn project.

i’m scared of getting my hopes up. I started this on my own. you’re not to blame, but now i wish i didn’t have to see you for a couple of weeks.

an art class

an art class

and yet, that day of the week arrives, and along with the anxiety, i can feel the excitement trying to break free. My heart races, my hands sweat, and i can’t catch my breath.

“art class,” says the sign on the door, and just that is enough to shake my entire world and bring back the feelings i’m trying to ignore.

all my days

been trying to find a reason to stay

i keep hearing my friends' words every time i see you, and now i feel guilt, embarrassment, and a horrible pain in my chest that settles in my heart, right next to the happiness you bring me. It makes me feel sick and confused.

you've asked me a couple of times if i'm okay, but how could i answer you with the truth?

say my name

and i'll go ahead and pick a date

i'm okay

if you understand that this is fate

the day of the exhibition arrived, and i’m nervous, and you notice it, so you take my hand and smile at me. You told me everything would be fine, that we did great, and that we would do really well.

you were right. Of course you were...

we spent the whole day there, answering questions and receiving compliments. We really did a good job, and everyone keeps saying that.

now i feel exhausted. All day i had to manage my emotions—the mix of anxiety, the pain in my chest, happiness, satisfaction... and love, the damn love. I feel like handling all that drained me more than talking to so many people and repeating the same words over and over.

finally, we can leave, but then you take my hand again and make me look at you. This time you look more serious, and i start to get scared, but you don’t say anything bad.

“i’m going to be honest, Yn, i loved working with you on this and getting to know you better. Since i saw you in class, something about you caught my attention, but i didn’t know how to approach you. This was the perfect opportunity, and i took it. I understand if you don’t feel the same way i do, but if you do... i’d like to get to know you more and see what can come of this.” that’s what you said, your face blushing and your eyes looking everywhere but at me.

if you only knew that when i got home, i cried, feeling so happy, kicking my legs on the bed like a tv character, and squealing into my pillow so no one would hear me. with my face red and a huge smile.

now we’re going on a date, and i just hope this turns out well.

Carl Grimes, what have you done to me?

art class

art class

i don’t even know when i started smiling, but i finished reading aloud and looked around. Carl, beside me, was smiling widely, and our two little ones had tears in their eyes; apparently, they were moved by the story of how it all began.

i recently found my diary from when i was a teenager, and i told Carl about it in front of the girls, and they both begged me to read it to them. Of course, i paused at the perfect part, at the true beginning of our relationship, but within those pages is everything, including the story of our first time and countless anecdotes from our school days.

i will always be grateful for that class because that’s how i got to know the man who makes me happy.

Carl Grimes is more than my words can describe, but i think i did a good job explaining how i fell for him.

who would have thought that a couple of years later, this would be our life?

in the end, maybe it was part of our destiny.

taglist: @jamiesturniolo

[drakewyne]

me, thinking of the dress:

me: CRAZY

( cw: dark au, ünternet au, referenced sw. )

ISO nancy: *fazing in. out. in mirror. kicking gogo boot up. little spin.*

black cat tim: *on computer* " . . . *stops typing* . . . *looks over shoulder* "weird that you have an Appearance."

ISO nancy: *scowling* "rude." *buzzing beside him* "weird You have an appearance. weird you have one and barely do anything With it. *moving his chin* 'cause i've seen a Lot worse."

tim: "i pull a lot with the leg harness."

ISO nancy: " . . . pull Yourself, maybe." *buzzing* "anyway, what's That mean? you sound Stupid. coadjutor ISOs like me are evolved to be appealing."

tim: "fucking- Gross."

ISO nancy: "no shit." *buzzing, semi fairy like in air* "but it's so we're more predisposed to be spoken to. we're relayers. we relay. shitheads in the ünternet Already try to keep it lowkey. if you have to talk, might as well be to someone cute. 's why you see a lot of old ISO co's in the club doing bottle service faking IR girlie realness."

tim: "what if they get Horny?"

ISO nancy: "that depends." ( "on what?" ) "do they have Credits?"

tim: "oh that is so Fucked."

ISO nancy: "it's a darkseid and sivana project that kuttler blew a load all over- it's not a family friendly Place."

tim: "what do you need credits for anyway? you have everything you need."

ISO nancy, looking in mirror: "yeah, it's swanky. but it's Expensive to be on the run. you have to get fake Algos, fake Authorization, fake Lives. and ISO derezzer bots got Good. i've had to restart a million times. I'm not biting it. No. Fucking. Way."

tim: "so you've Slept with these assholes?"

ISO nancy: "Also No Fucking Way! be a Million percent real! look, *crossing arms, hip jut* i'll do a lot of shit, but not that. also those guys have Zero loyalty. they'll report you Regardless. they got what they wanted! no more skin in the game."

tim: " . . . so how'd you get the money?"

ISO nancy: "ooh. very good question. back in the day, coadjutors logged all your shit. if you were getting too screwy, they kicked you. but not me. i saw the writing on the wall. i got the logged shit. but I had the idea of using it for nancy Good. give me Credits, Or i boot all your bullshit into the outer world."

tim: "extortion."

ISO nancy: "you better believe it. and Because i'm the one that won't boot you, i log Heavy. i can't dog the others. it's still pretty psychosexual. i get All the big weirdos. because when you're unbound by moral in a moralless place, what do you Want?"

tim: " . . . you want to be grounded." ( "uh huh." ) "and users can't really Kill or Get Killed there in a way that matters." ( "now you get it." ) "nancy. were you Charging guys to Debase themselves in the name of higher Consciousness?"

ISO nancy: "don't look so shocked! i let You do it for free."

tim: "you knowing my Bullshit gives me Nothing sexual."

ISO nancy: "then why do you get me Presents?"

[emeryhiro]

Hello!

I am new here and is feeling very overwhelmed right now with that is happening in the caryl fandom. I appreciate your insight into these characters. I am someone who has not seen Daryl Dixon season 1 and is seriously considering if I should even watch it with all that is being said about s2.

Reading all the early reviews that has dropped - I get a lot of mixed reactions to Isabelle's character. Some ppl say she was the best part about season 1 while others don't even mention here in their reviews. The caryl fandom is largely, understandably, biased against her.

I do not know anything about Isabelle and was wondering what your thoughts about her are - how she holds up as a character?

Hi Anon!!

Thank you for your question. I'm really glad you asked this question, and thank you for the kind words🥰 I'm going to do my best to properly answer and share my thoughts on all the points you've mentioned.

Firstly, welcome to the fandom!! 💖 I'm sorry you've joined at a time of so much uncertainty, but I promise that at its core, this community is a beautiful place to be. But like all communities, there is always positivity and negativity, and it's important to be careful with what's surrounding you, ensuring it's a healthy balance that works for you.

I've divided my response into several sections, as I find that to be the best way to convey my thoughts. I also wanted to be as clear as possible since this is a sensitive topic for some, and I want to try to alleviate at least some of the worries.

A mild spoiler warning for a mention of something that happens in episode 1 of season 2.

Reviews on Season 2:

I wasn't planning on reading any of the reviews for season 2, but since you asked for my thoughts, I read all the articles that I could find so that I could give you an informed response. And one thing I advise is to always take reviews with a grain of salt (this includes my thoughts as well) because, ultimately, they're all based on the writers' opinions.

What I've found with all previous seasons of TWD, especially season 1 of Daryl Dixon, was that no single review I read aligned perfectly with what I thought of the show once I watched it myself. And I know I'll say the same about season 2.

Regarding what I read in the season 2 reviews, I don't think I've actually read a single concerning line in any of the ones I've come across, and I'm pretty sure I've read every single one that has been released. There are, however, a lot of people who, out of fear or concern, focus on single lines from a review that may sound negative or worrisome when taken out of context, and ignore everything else in the review that's purely positive.

I can see many people have shared their specific thoughts on different segments of several reviews, but I won't go into my thoughts here for the sake of keeping this response reasonable short. If you're interested in a detailed post about my thoughts on the reviews in general or any in particular, let me know, and I'll share it as soon as I get a chance.

My thoughts on Isabelle:

I found Isabelle to be a fascinating character with many layers. She is unquestionably flawed and has a great mix of both positive and negative characteristics, which I think is what gives her character so much potential. She's intelligent, driven, brave, headstrong, and very protective, but she's also undeniably manipulative, which makes sense when you think of it as a self-defence mechanism that she developed during her rocky life before the apocalypse. I'm also a fan of Clémence as an actress, and I think she's a great fit for this character.

This next bit might sound a bit contrevoursial but bare with me. I've seen Isabelle get a lot of hate for being manipulative towards Daryl, even I personally hated seeing Daryl be treated that way, but it's important to remember that we've also seen Carol behave manipulatively when she's had to in the past in order to protect the people that she loves. This is something you'll see Carol do once again in episode 1 of TBOC, and when I watched it, it made me uncomfortable, but ultimetly, I could see that it made Carol uncomfortable as well; she doesn't feel any satisfaction out of what she does and is willing to carry the weight of that lie and guilt to achieve her ultimate goal of saving Daryl, the person she loves.

Even though, on the surface, it's not an admirable thing to do, we appreciate Carol so much more because of the lengths she's willing to go to for the ones she loves, and we've also seen her journey to this point, which naturally makes us love her and empathise with her.

So my point here is that I can't judge Isabelle for the same behaviour I admire in my favourite character. Just like Carol may act that way to protect Daryl (her loved one), Isabelle was doing it because she believed (to the best of her knowledge) that it was what was best for Laurent (her loved one).

However, what doesn't sit right with me about Isabelle's character is that what the showrunners and writers have been saying about her doesn't align with what I've seen on screen (this is a great example of why I try to avoid looking at unnecessary publicity). I want to love her character for who she is, flaws and all, but the inconsistency in her publicity makes me feel like there's some discrepancy behind the scenes, and that has stopped me from investing in her character and gives me slight concern for the trajectory of her arc, which has so much potential that would be incredibly tragic if wasted.

The only other thing that I would disagree with (IF the show ends up going down that path) is the negative messaging that would be given out about nuns if every surviving nun on the show is portrayed as willing to forget her vows the minute there's a man in front of them that they find interesting. I'm not catholic, but I think that it would be incredibly disrespectful towards actual nuns and the sacrifices that they make for their faith. But please don't take this as fact because I don't think this will actually ever happen. I honestly don't believe that AMC or anyone involved with the show would knowingly do something like that. I'd be happy to explain this a little further, but I don't think it's relevant if you haven't seen the first seasons.

Watching TWD: Daryl Dixon S1 & 2

My question to you would be, what draws you to TWD/TBOC? Is it Caryl itself and potential canon? And if so, do you feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2? Or, do you enjoy the show for a combination of things, like the character development, world-building, cinematography, etc.?

I want to emphasise that there is no wrong answer to the above. Everyone is unique, and it's 1000% understandable and fair for each person to have unique reasons for being drawn to and loving, hating, or even being indifferent about a show.

I personally fall in the latter category; I love TWD for its rich story, action sequences, cinematography, multitude of interesting characters, and the mind-blowing ways in which they have developed over the years (the whole package of the show is exactly my cup of tea), and of course, it's no secret if anyone looks at my blog that my favourite character (BY FAR) are Carol and Daryl. I absolutely adore them for everything they are, both as individuals and what they bring out in each other and mean to each other. And if Caryl is ever canon (which I expect would happen in season 3), then that would be the cherry on top of a show I already love.

My very short review of season 1 would be that I really enjoyed it and would rank it at the top between all the other spinoff seasons we've gotten so far. However, in all honesty, I still felt and noticed the hole that was left behind in the story with the absence of Carol, but knowing that she will be returning in season 2 kind of made up for that lack in season 1. All up, I really enjoyed season 1 and have watched it several times in the last year. I'm actually currently in the middle of watching it again in preparation for season 2.

My recommendations:

If you personally fall into the former category and, as mentioned above, feel that you'd be left disappointed and/or unsatisfied with the potential lack of romance between the characters in season 2, then perhaps it's better to wait till all the episodes are released to then decide if it's something that you'd like to watch.

If you're willing to accept and are okay with the potential lack of romance between Caryl in season 2 but are concerned about and would rather not watch any potential romantic relationship develop between Daryl and Isabelle, then I'd say that you should watch the season as it releases because I honestly don't believe that something like that is a real possibility. At most, there may be hints towards one-sided feelings from Isabelle's side and maybe some confusion from Daryl's side, but untimely, it would not mean or go anywhere. I'm personally not even bothered with this worst-case scenario because it doesn't matter how many people have feelings for Daryl or how confused Daryl is because I know that once he's reunited with Carol, there won't be any more uncertainty about where his heart and loyalties truly lie. There's honestly not a single ounce of me that's concerned about this.

If you're more like me and enjoy the show as a whole, even though you may be slightly disappointed with a few accepts, then I'd highly recommend that you watch season 1 before the release of season 2 (if you have the time), because it genuinely was a good season and will give you a lot of backstory and context that would make season 2 feel so much more enjoyable and immersive.

~~~~

Thanks again for your questions!! I hope this all makes sense and that it answers your questions. As I mentioned earlier, if you'd like me to expand on my thoughts on anything in particular, please let me know, and I'd be happy to do so.

My last bit of advice is this: I know it's easier said than done, but I urge you, especially as someone who's new to the fandom, to not allow a lot of different voices and opinions to shape how you naturally feel or invalidate what you take away from watching the show (not that I think that's what you're doing but this is the general advice I wanted to give just in case🩵). It's really easy for anyone to be influenced by negativity and positivity when they find that that's all they can see from the people around them.

I personally try to focus on what I see on screen and what I hear directly from Norman and Melissa because, at the end of the day, showrunners and writers come and go, but Norman and Melissa have embodied these characters from day one and understand them more than anyone else ever could.

♡♡♡

[zeeohoh]

OBX RAFE SMUT | MINORS DNI !

Tags : arguing, toxic!rafe, reader has female anatomy, oral, oral smut, slight fluff at the end(?).

A/N : NOT PROOF READ.

//

Rafe had been avoiding you for weeks now, his work, his dad, his friends, he has a million excuses to not see you, and you've finally had enough.

You were sat on your bed, watching Notting Hill, you had seen this movie a million times but hey, it's your favourite, you can never have enough.

It's a 21:00 on a Saturday, you were *supposed* to see Rafe, or at least, you had hoped you would, he's been blowing you off for weeks now, you guys had been going out for a few weeks but not everyone knew, and it would've been hard for anyone to believe it either because of how he treated you when you were around people you knew, it was like the better and comfortable you felt with him, the terrible he made you feel in public, in simple terms, he treated you like shit, Absolute. Pure. Shit. As if you're some fuck toy or something to help distract him and you only meant something to him when his body was on yours. You didn't entirely feel this way, he seemed to genuinely have feelings for you but his actions said otherwise, so you stopped, or you would've just been delusional. Tired of wanting him to treat you like an actual human being and tired of wrecking your brain over being torn because you felt he had feelings for you but he acted like you mean nothing, and treating you like a nobody, you grab your phone and block him, his number, his instagram, anywhere you have him on your phone, you block him, throw your phone on your pillow and continue playing the movie.

02:19 *ring* *ring*

Your eyes flutter open as you realize you fell asleep watching the movie, you're broken out of yours thoughts as you realize what woke you up in the first place, your front door bell ringing.

Who the fuck is at my door at 2 in the damn morning?

You get off your bed, quickly grab your robe and a baseball bat you kept by the shoe rack and peek through the keyhole, it was hard to make out who it was because of the rain, but you recognised the familiar silhouette of a certain Cameron. You sigh and open the door.

"What the fuck Rafe? Look at the time"

"I couldn't reach you anywhere, you wouldn't answer my calls, my texts wouldn't send, what else was I supposed to fucking do? You cut me off everywhere Y/N"

"Just..get inside, you're gonna catch a cold"

"I don't care Y/N"

You take a step aside to let him in , you barely turn around before he grabs your wrists in his hands and pins you to the wall,

"RAFE"

He's so close that you can feel him breathing on you

"Why'd you do it Y/N? Do you really want me out of your life? Is that what you want?"

"It's not like I mean shit to you anyways, Rafe"

"That's not true"

"Like fuck it is, you treat me like absolute shit, you purposely go out of your way to make me feel terrible, you want my attention but you'd rather ask for it by belittling me infront of everyone, by talking down to me or treating me like I'm just someone you use to distract yourself from whatever the fuck you need to be distracted from, sometimes the shit you say isn't even funny, it's straight up childish and immature and rude, I shouldn't even have let you in after the shit you've said and the shit you've done, I deserve better than how you treat me. "

You could barely finish your sentences without feeling the need to choke up.

"Y/N I-"

"You used to make me feel so good, so safe but now I'm scared to even talk to you because I know nothing nice is gonna come up and I'm gonna get hurt again, I know we're supposed to be just casual but I just didn't think you'll treat me like I'm a nobody to you"

Rafe's gaze softened, and his hands went from your wrists to your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness because of the things I've said and how I've treated you, but I can't lose you, I don't want to do this without you Y/N, I can't justify why I've said what I've said, what can I do to make it up to you? I'll do anything, I never realized how much it could've affected you, I was being a dick, I'm so, so sorry"

"I know I shouldn't even be talking to you rn, John B would kill me"

Rafe took your hands in his and placed a kiss on the back of both hands. He peppered kisses all over your hands, working his way up to your wrists, your arms, your shoulders, and eventually, your neck, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and nibbled on the sensitive skin right next to your jaw, which he knew makes you go crazy.

You shuddered under his touch and, out of habit, leaned into him, your head resting on his chest, kissing it, you turned up to look at him, your faces barely inches apart, and close the distance. You plant a kiss on his lips, it was soft, gentle, loving. His hands wander from your neck to your back, you guide his hands to your waist, he gives you a gentle nudge and following his cue, you lift yourself and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around him, his focus goes to your neck and you shudder, he takes that opportunity and slips his tongue in, his movements grow more eager as he softly grinds himself against you, grabbing everywhere you'd let him, at this point, you're both breathing each other, he's kissing you like he's gonna lose you tomorrow, like it's the last time he'll ever have you, your tongues move in a rhythm and your bodies are connected.

"Let's go inside" you say and he takes you to your room, he gently lays you down on your bed, not breaking the kiss once, not letting go of you even. once.

"May I?" He asks you as he nudges your top

You get up and help him remove the tshirt you slept in, he immediately went back to kissing your neck, your collarbone, and slowly made his way down to your chest. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around, gently sucking on it, you let out a soft sigh as he bit it gently while his other hand gave attention to your other one, toying with it, kneading it then he switched to the other one, doing the same as he did for the previous one.

"Let me make you feel good ma"

He made his way further down, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses.

"Tell me if you want me to stop ,okay?"

You just hummed in agreement

"No, I want to hear you say it, tell me if I'm going too far, and I'll stop."

"I don't want you to stop"

He tugged at the waistband of your shorts, and you lifted yourself up, helping him take them off.

"Turn the lights off,Rafe, I don't want you to look at it"

"You're beautiful, every part of you Y/N" he says as he gets up and turns the lights off, finding his way back to you, he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, softly massaging them. He slowly made his way to your core, planting a gentle kiss over your clothed core.

You squirmed in the bed, edging your body closer to his mouth, growing more impatient by the second.

"Easy now, I'm getting there" he said as he took your underwear off, folding it up and keeping it next to your bed, he licked a long stripe eliciting a soft moan from you, he latched himself onto your clit, lightly sucking on it, focusing on how you react to it, once he's satisfied, he pushes his tongue inside you, he speeds up exponentially, he's going down on you like a man starved, like you're the last meal he'll ever have, he doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop, he barely comes up for air, he only has one thing on his mind, making you come. Your hands find their way to his hair, grabbing them and tugging at them.He violently thrusts his tongue in and out of you, practically abusing your clit while you're a moaning mess, he hooks your legs over his arms to grip you and hold you down as you squirm and push yourself onto his face, his nose is lightly bumping against your clit, your moans turn him on and he started grinding against the bed, he suddenly inserts a finger in you which make you arch your back, pumping in and out of you, hitting your g spot as his thumb makes it way to your clit and rubs circles on it, while his other hand grabs your breast and plays with it, the sudden increase in stimulation drive you closer to your edge, your eyes are shut, you can't say anything, you can't think of anything other than how good his mouth feels, how good he's making you feel, you feel the burning sensation, signalling you're not that far

"Rafe I'm gonna-"

He doesn't even let you finish that sentence before he speeds up, you didn't think it was possible for him to go faster, but he was, the room is silent except for the moaning mess he's made of you and the unholy sounds he's making as he eats you out, he can feel how close you are, he hums in satisfaction.

"It's okay, come for me" You can feel the smirk he has on his face as he says it

Right as he finishes his sentence, you came. hard, harder than you've probably ever come. You're a panting mess, he slows down his movements but he doesn't stop, helping you ride out your high, once he's sure, he gets up and grabs a towel, cleaning you up, he kisses your thighs and helps you up on the bed, and lays down next to you. He holds you close and whispers in your ear

"I'm so sorry for ever making you feel like you mean less than to me than you actually do, I won't do it again"

"It's easier said than done, Cameron, don't make me regret giving you another chance"

you turn to face him and bury your face in his chest, slowly drifting away into a peaceful sleep as he plants a kiss on your forehead and holds you close. He'll spend as long as it is needed to make up for how he treated you, taking care of you and cherishing you for as long as you'd have him.

[teddybeartoji]

going to the beach with toji and kids for the first time ever. it's only the beginning of your relationship, it's all kind of new – toji doesn't know what's about to hit him. sure, he's seen you with megumi and tsumiki before, but this? this is something else.

not only is his heart doing flips at the sight of the big smiles and the loud bursts of laughter you're managing to pull out of his kids, you're also wearing a fucking bikini. he hasn't seen this much of you before – the furthest you've gone during the late hours of the nights are steamy, handsy makeouts. he did take your shirt off the last time he had you below him but then you were interrupted by the little spiky haired boy, sniffling about a bad dream. after grabbing a blanket to cover you up, toji rested his forehead against your warm skin, grumbling something under his breath before looking up at you with soft eyes. you weren't mad – quite the opposite; you ruffled his hair and cradled his face, a gentle smile splayed on your lips. you pressed a haste kiss to his nose and then ushered him off of you, whispering something about his adorable son. toji scoffed. and smiled to himself.

the bikini. is killing him. he doesn't know what to do with himself. the scene playing in front of him is heart-warming and he should only be thinking about that, but how can he? the material is barely covering anything and you just look so... fucking good.

sitting in the shade, toji let's his head loll back, his eyes closing as he rests his hand over his face with a groan. he can't do it anymore. he's doing brain exercises to not pop the hardest boner of his life and you are not making it any easier when you keep giving him the prettiest smiles. you're happy, the kids are happy – everything should be good, but no – here he is, suffering because his parter looks fucking amazing. the fact that this is even a problem is mind-baffling to him. he is a strong man, no person is going to get to him just by being beauti—

"could you pass me the water, please?"

you're out to get him, he's sure of it.

toji peeks from under his hand and he's immediately blinded by a devil in disguise. the sun shines from behind you like a halo and the grin on your lips reaches behind your ears. sweat coats your skin and it makes toji's mouth salivate. what the fuck are you doing to him? hands on your hips, you stare down at your boyfriend and you give him another second to collect himself before quirking up a brow.

"toji?" you sound like a siren, you're pulling him in with your silky smooth tone. "the water, please?"

the corners of your eyes crinkle as you smile and toji has never moved faster in his entire life. "right."

he reaches for the bottle in the cooler beside him and gives it to you while making sure to look at you in the eyes and nowhere else. it's unbelievably hard – especially when the water starts trickling from the corners of your mouth and down your neck. toji gulps before turning to look at his kids instead. gumi's brows are furrowed as he's building his sandcastle while miki is busy building hers. toji cracks a grin.

"they're so– fucking cute." you whisper when you curse, a playful smile on your lips as you gush about the kids.

you love them so much already and you're glad that they seem to be liking you a lot too. that makes toji very happy; when the kids ask about you when they haven't seen you in a few days, when you do the same – he knows you really might be the one. it's a big thing to say, to even think, but he can't help it. it simply seems... right.

the water bottle hangs in front of his face and he's pulled away from his thoughts again. he goes to grab it and when he does, your free hand reaches out to him. warm finger wrap around his wrist and he melts at the soft, gentle touch. "come play with us."

a groan bubbles from his throat but it couldn't be any further from an annoyed one – you're sweet and you're excited, you're pretty and you're patient; you always welcome him and the kids with open arms and a bright smile. she would've loved you.

he throws the bottle aside and wraps his own hand around your own. "ya wanna play or the kids wanna play?"

his raspy voice and the stupidly handsome smirk he gives you make butterflies bloom and dance in your stomach. he makes you giddy, he makes you happy.

"i wanna play." you tug at him. "and the kids wanna play."

he can't say no to his little blessings and he can't say no to you. maybe running around will help clear his mind from the mischievious thoughts in his head. he doubts it, but he's needs to try.

in one swift move, he pulls your hand to his mouth while pretending to bite you and his eyes fucking twinkle when he sees your cute surprised expression and hears your little gasp. there's a moment, a second of the most comfortable silence before the corners of your lips twitch and you yank away from his hold, booking it towards gumi and miki with a loud cackle as toji pushes off the chair and takes off after you with fast steps.

your cheeks hurt from laughing as you watch toji catch megumi; he lifts gumi up with just one hand while tsumiki tries to poke her dad in the ribs in order for him to let boy go. when he finally lets the kids go... you feel his eyes on you. adrenaline pumps in your veins and you feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. you can't stop grinning. he can't either. a pair of arms wrap around your middle and your feet are being lifted up above the ground before you can even react.

while the kids are doubled over, running and stumbling over their own feet, toji growls in your ear. "gotcha."

you will take the next step today. no snotty kid of his will cockblock him again – they will be tired from the day and you will be all his to take care of. he'll show you his appreciation for being so good to him and the kids, for being so kind. and so... fucking hot.

he presses a kiss to your jaw but cringes when gumi and miki dramatically scream 'ew' at him. you feel him getting even warmer, his cheeks heating up and you try to save him by shooing the kids with a laugh. toji is grateful. he's happy that you're here.

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[bonefanatic]

"Careful", you snag the boy's shirt before he can step into the road. The boy's head snaps away from his phone and towards you.

He looks pissed but you watch his face shift into a blank sort of stare.

"Sorry-", you release the grip on his shirt, shifting the carrier on your hip, "you should pay more attention when you're this close to the road."

You offer him a weak smile and he blinks up at you, then turns and scurries across the road, focused back onto his phone. Sighing, you adjust baby carrier and begin walking again.

The walk isn't a horrible one, ten minutes is nothing on the half hour walk it takes you to get to work. It's just a little more difficult with a awkward sized baby carrier.

Typically you'd take the train, but you need to get to the grocery store before it gets dark. The air is already chilly but the forecast calls for snow and the baby doesn't need that.

-

The store is a little warmer when you step inside and you even manage to snag a buggy.

The store is relatively quiet and you find what you need to...except for the box of baby rice towards the back on a shelf you can't reach.

You groan softly, glancing at the snoozing babe. She loves those...

You stand on your very tiptoes, grabbing at air. Then, a hand reaches up and grabs them. You turn, about to ask them for the box, when the man passes the box to you.

"Here, you looked like you needed help." He holds the box out with one hand, running his fingers through his black hair with the other.

You blink curiously at him, then take the box.

"Thank you so much, hon." You grin, placing the item in your cart and hurrying to check out.

-

The walk is still cold, despite the sun barely starting to set. You shiver, somehow managing to carry the groceries and the baby carrier at the same time.

About half a mile from your apartment, you bump into a chest. Dropping a few bags and praying the eggs aren't in them.

"Sorry about that", a masculine voice mumbles above you. You tilt your head up to meet the eyes of a boy a little younger than the one who helped you before. He tilts his head, a tuft of white hair hanging in his eyes.

"Would you like some help?" He starts grabbing the dropped bags before you can answer. He makes a gesture for you to lead the way.

"I'm Jason, by the way. We live in the same complex."

You swear you've never seen him before, but maybe that's just you.

-

That night, groceries put away and a baby snuggled happily against your chest, you lay in bed.

Oblivious to several pairs of eyes watching you and the bickering from the rooftops above.

"Ummi spoke to me today, with the baby!" Damian speaks.

"Yeah, well I helped ma with her groceries!" Jason gives him a playful shove.

"Well, the baby smiled at me!" Dick jabs a thumb at his chest triumphantly.

"All of you hush!" Tim speaks up, crouched next to Duke, eyes focused on a familiar window.

Bruce looms nearby, caught up his daydream where he's the sweater wrapped so tightly around you. Someday.

Someday sooner than you think.

[tragedy-of-commons]

GWEN POOKIE POOKIE IM SO PROUD OF YOU !!! CONGRATS ON GETTING 200 💥💥💥 YOU DESERVE SOSOSO MUCH !!

as for your prompt, can i get a "that was but a moment of weakness. think nothing of it." with dan feng? romantic please bc lord im starving of dan feng content

AGAIN, CONGRATS ON 200!! HERES TO YOUR FOLLOWER EVENT GOING BOOM BOOM BOOM <333

"That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it."

Dan Feng's words echo into an ensuing chasm of silence. You're getting real tired of this whole back and forth, but you have to hold your tongue - the High Elder would not like to be called out on his lie so easily.

...even if his tail is wrapped snugly around your waist, and his austere countenance is plagued by a tinge of pink.

"Really? You're not known for being weak," you jab, unable to help yourself. Being 'your roguish self' in his presence is inevitable.

Dan Feng's tail unhands you, lashing side to side before stilling. His quarters are unlike anything you've ever seen, really; opulent cushions and fabrics making up the (multiple) chaises, a vanity littered with vibrant lotus blooms, and a subtle air of cloudhymn magic buzzing about each nook and cranny.

Even though you've been let in here at least a dozen times, it still feels like you're trespassing on sacred ground.

"A lapse in judgment, then," he supplies, taking a few purposeful strides towards the highlight of the chambers themselves - the vanity. "It happens to the best of us, despite what you may believe."

You watch as he sits down, ramrod straight. When he starts to tap his foot impatiently, you groan and slink over.

Dan Feng, Imbibitor Lunae, High Elder of the Vidyadhara, Guardian of Scalegorge Waterscape... is utterly enchanting. Your own reflection fades into white noise in the image of the mirror, subdued by his presence alone.

Without making him wait any longer, you pick up the familiar hairbrush within reach, beginning to comb through his tresses delicately. Whenever you snag on a minute tangle, he stiffens in warning before you curb the knot.

You hum. "Well, then I'm glad it happened to you, Esteemed One. Without your 'lapse in judgment', I'd have been doomed to my next incarnation much earlier than I would've liked."

You're referring to the incident that took place earlier today. On a stroll with the High Elder himself, a banditry of rebels and mutineers attempted to assassinate Dan Feng, and by extension, you as well.

It went by in a flash; one second, you were holding his hand and chatting about something as mundane as the scenery - the next, you were shoved behind his back as four Vidyadhara, your own kind, jumped out of the shadows, hungry to further their agenda.

The speed at which he ran Cloud-Piercer through them all was unbelievable. Seconds had gone by, not a hair on your head out of place, yet the enemies lied vanquished on the ground. Finally, Dan Feng had turned to you afterward, scanning you for any signs of injury with a pinched brow.

He almost looked panicked then. No high and mighty quips, no diluted sarcasm, no nothing! It was strange, to say the least.

News had spread like wildfire, and after rushing through the appropriate procedures, Dan Feng stuck to you like glue. He often says that he likes to keep you close so you don't fall into a crevice and perish, but this is different.

He protected you and your honor with his life. He pulled you close with his tail during the following hours - an intimate act usually reserved for lovers, neurotically monitoring anyone who got too close to you, baring just a hint of fang.

You know he cares for you in his own way, but this is dizzying.

"...you are exempt from referring to me by formal title," he sobers you from your thoughts, likely sensing your distress. After all, healers such as him are constantly attuned to other people's wavelengths. "It was nothing. There is no need to be grateful."

That response also strikes you as odd. Usually, Dan Feng basks in your praise and gratitude. Now, he's almost humble, whispering so only you can hear him.

Perhaps, in the depths of that statement, he's leaving an underlying message for you to pick up on. Something possibly along the lines of:

Don't be grateful. I could've lost you.

Your grip on the silver handle of the brush tightens. "If you say so."

The remaining knots are lightwork, Dan Feng's hair pooling around his pointed ears, now silky and smooth. His eyes are closed, posture relaxed and statuesque. When you do get to see him like this, it's always healing in its own right.

Experimentally, you brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. Sparkling teal scales adorn the skin there, responsive to your gentle touch. They flare at the intrusive sensation before calming, passively granting you permission to continue.

"That was the first time you were with me when an attempt on my life had been made," he cracks open his eyes, gazing at your reflection instead of his own. "I can't guarantee it won't happen again."

"I'm aware."

You set the hairbrush back onto the vanity, task completed. At this point in the routine, you'd normally excuse yourself to go about your own obligations.

But now? You remain rooted behind a man that you desperately want to love, just a little bit more.

"Something is on your mind," Dan Feng cuts in, "I suggest you voice your concerns."

He knows you just as well as you know him, even if he acts above vulnerability and the baggage that comes with it. Ghosting your fingers up the slope of his skin and through his dark locks, you sigh. Translating your turmoil into words has never been an easy feat.

Your hand now rests in between his regal horns, unsure. You've never so recklessly tested the waters before - but you need answers. You want to know, desperately, if he views you in the same light that you bestow upon him.

"Dan Feng," you whisper, admiring the appendages and their luminescent glow. They match the rest of him perfectly, and you've always imagined what it'd be like to touch them - to revere them. Gentle sea green, molded into branch-like coral.

"May I?" you hope.

When the Imbibitor Lunae's response comes, it's sweet, chased by a resigned sigh that tells you all you need to know.

"If you so wish."

Initially, you feel the telltale vibrations of him shuddering as you make yourself known as his lover. Today, in some other universe, Dan Feng might have lost you. But in this one, where you're both intertwined in the best possible way?

There is not a chance he can get rid of you so easily.

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: your wish is my command, miss illu :3 your support brings a tear to this old clown's eye... but thank you, really! almost done with all the requests, and i hope you enjoy what i did with dan feng. never written for him before, but your writing served as inspo ^^

event post here

[teojira]

Scar x fem! Reader/Rover from Wuthering Waves where Reader is trying to get Yangyang back, and Scar offers to give her back for a kiss from reader 🫦

[What's the harm?] [Scar/reader drabble]

Summary: Scar strikes a deal with you, for both your and Yangyang's freedom. (You are Rover in this!)

Word count: 1k+ (I got POSSESSED)

Pronouns: She/her implied

Warnings: Possibly OOC but the game is 3 days old, have mercy. Slightly nsfw! Scar is down bad. You're Rover in this and you're also down bad.

A/N: I want him so bad, the constant flirting with MC? The way his eyes soften at her? I'm in love with him so bad.

“Where is she?” He's already isolated you for Yangyang, bringing you into his domain.

 It's unnerving, standing alone with a man you've seen cause so much trouble, someone who constantly is trying to get into your head.

The comments he makes, there are so many of them and they just keep coming. 

Is he lying about wanting you? Lying about wanting your trust? Is this just a ploy to get you on his side? 

You're not sure, your brain can't deny that this is a trap, he trapped you, but your brain can't deny that he's looking at you with a soft gaze that you're sure he's never graced another human with. He looks like he simultaneously wants to eat you alive and protect you like he claims.

Scar himself stands a few feet away, arms crossed as his eyes trail along your form, starting from your feet, lingering a bit on your chest until finally meeting your eyes. You swear you can see a twinkle in his eye, and he doesn't even remotely try and hide the way he licks his lips at you, a predator grin making it's way on his handsome face.

“Oh come on Rover, she'll be fine~”

“I'm not doing this with you, give her back.” You steel yourself, hand resting on the scabbard of your sword, ready for him to attack.

To your surprise, he knocks his head back and laughs, shaking his head, the movement jostling his locks. He turns back to you, moving closer, step by step.

“Look at that, that fire in your eye is mesmerizing Rover, you're that concerned with a woman who only wants to use you?” He coos, voice mimicking how an adult talks to a child and you feel small, taking a small step back but the distance still closes, he's not letting you get away.

“Stop. I'm not playing this game with you Scar, let me go and give Yangyang back.” You hate how your voice trembles a bit, hating yourself for his presence having such an effect on you.

“Yangyang This, Yangyang that, what about me my dear? Why don't you say my name like you do hers? With that fondness.” He glowers, finally closing the distance, stepping into your personal bubble and cornering you against a large rock.

“What are you even-” You can't help the flush that rushes to your face, your head dizzy at the proximity. The body heat radiating off of him is jarring, but not as jarring as his smell. He smells of ash and burnt wood, and a mix of his own natural scent and it feels warm and safe. For the first time since you've woken up, you feel protected, despite him being the enemy. The same one who the nation you're supposed to protect hates.

It's so stupid, it's so stupid.

"Say my name.” He's leaning down now, was he always this tall?

“W-” He cuts you off, grabbing your jaw with one hand, squeezing your cheeks ever so slightly, only releasing to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Say it, Rover.” His face is so fucking close, you can feel his breath tickling your face.

"Scar." You breathe out, your head spinning, this is wrong, you shouldn't have let him get this close, you need to get out and find Yangyang, what the fuck are you doing?

"Give me what I want, and I'll let you both go." He murmurs, eyes zeroed in on yours.

His heterochromatic eyes are beautiful already, but the way they're so dilated, barely any of his color is shown.

"I'm not following."

"Just a kiss my dear, just one."

"How do I know you're gonna keep your word?"

"You don't, but I don't think that's gonna stop you." He coos again, moving to trail one of his hands down your back, pushing you closer to his body, your chests both heaving and resting on one another.

He's right, as of right now, there is absolutely nothing that will stop you from this, from giving in just this once.

You lean in first, shutting your eyes tight.

It's Scar who does the rest, crashing into you like a wave, trying to consume you.

He kisses you like you're long lost lovers, pouring so much passion into the kiss that you can't ever hope to return, so when he pushes you up against the rock, you know this'll be a reoccurring occurrence. It's addicting, the feeling of his lips finally on yours, all the tension finally reaching a climax. His tongue is damn near down your throat, swallowing down your moans as much as he could, his hands gripping your hips so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if it left a mark later (a small part of you hope he does).

It takes everything in your power to pull away, but the second you do, he moves to start licking at your neck, you can feel his canines run along a specific patch of skin that makes your legs weak. You place a hand on his chest, trying to gently push him away.and when that doesn't work, you bring your other hand up to run your fingers through his locks and tug him away.

The groan he lets out is downright sinful. He looks up at you, his expression as if he just fucked you within an inch of your life, his hair mussed, his lips glossy from your combined spit.

"Was that good enough?"

"Oh honey, you're lucky I don't take you right here. But I am a man of my word." He hums, licking his lips and letting out a snicker. With a shocking gentleness, he pecks your lips one last time.

"Wake up now."

"Rover! Rover! Are you okay?" Yangyang has your head on her lap, one of her palms on your forehead, feeling the warmth there.

All you can do is groan and bring a hand to your face, covering your cheeks.

"What'd he do to you in there?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

[noirscript]

My Valentine

details: yandere!husband x AFAB!reader | Mentions of female genitalia, detailed sexual scenes, breeding,

note: I forgot where I got the image.

Despite the questionable setup and job description of your current job, your husband did not question it and even supported your endeavors. He cook your breakfast on the dot and even prepared your lunch and some snacks.

The warm touch of his soft lips against yours as soon as he sees you, somehow made you guilty of what you're getting yourself into. Truth be told, you haven't told him about the entire truth about your job. Only that you work as an agent.

You let him make an assumption about your job. Perhaps you'll never be able to tell him all about your job.

"Are you sure you still want to work there?" he asked while resting his firm hands on your hips. "I can support us both. We can even start our family and live comfortably."

You smiled as you cup his cheeks. "Val..."

He sighed before pulling away. "I don't really get why you're doing this," he said before meeting your gaze. "It's been two years since we've been married, you even begged me to let you enjoy for awhile before starting our family."

"Val, it's not that! I just..." you sighed. "I want to have my own money. I can't rely on you everytime. It... It doesn't feel right."

You looked up and feared what you've seen. His jaw clenched while his hold on your hips tightened.

"Was it my mother?"

Your brows furrowed. "What, no!"

"My grandma? My sister?" He closed the gap between you two. "Who was it, huh? Who influenced your decisions this time?"

You removed his hands from your body before taking one step away from him.

"Let's... just talk later." You tiptoed to reach his cheek before grabbing your packed lunch.

Maybe it's time to submit your two-week notice.

—

Your husband, Valentin, could get clingy at times. He'll tightly wrap his arms around your body, never missing the chance to feel the warmth of your skin.

It starts with gentle caresses against your skin, then the next thing you knew, you're being screwed and under his mercy for the next hours.

His honeyed voice that you love to hear turns to something deeper as he whispers the nastiest threats you've ever heard from him.

"Gonna make you a mommy... hngg... gonna be round and full..." He buries his face against the crook of your neck as he sensually grind his thick cock against your tight and creaming pussy.

"Pleasepleaseplease... make me cum... wanna cum..." you begged as you claw the arm that's been keeping you in place. "Val... Val... please... cumming..."

"Ah-ah... such a naughty girl." He took a deep breath against your neck before ramming his cock against your tightening pussy. "You don't get to treat me like a toy. I'm not a fucking dildo. You hear that?"

"M'srry... cumming please... please..."

"You're cumming, hm? You're gonna take my cum? All of it? Hm?"

You frantically nodded as you match his movements. It didn't take long until his cum painted your insides.

He nozzles his face against your skin. Peppering kisses against your neck, nipping it at times.

"We're gonna start our family soon..." he whispered while lazily grinding his dick inside you. "You, me, and our baby."

You chuckled. "We've talked about this before, Val..." The sheets rustled as you turn to face him.

"I still want to work. You know, to save up a bit." You pushed yourself up and looked into his eyes. "I also want to spoil them."

"You can spoil them with my card. What's mine is yours too, you know?" He responded while pulling you close to him. "We can have just one child. We'll take care of them. Raise them well..."

"Val... at least give me some time to think about it." You slowly run your finger against his chest down to his abs before barely touching the tip of his erect cock. "Besides... don't you want us to have some more time together?"

You slowly grind your moist pussy against him before he pulled you down with him. He aligned his cock and swiftly penetrated your pussy.

He doesn't hate the idea of getting you all to himself, but still. Your feelings might change once you learn more about him. He's not gonna have that. You're his for eternity, even if that meant having to share you with your child.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.