#and “how could people arrive at the same destination at roughly the same time after leaving at different times???”

[knowlesian]

gonna snap one day and run through the halls of media critique screaming A PLOTHOLE IS NOT WHEN THERE IS AN EASILY EXTRAPOLATED AND OBVIOUS ANSWER TO A QUESTION THAT THE WRITERS DID NOT THINK EVEN NEEDED TO BE EXPLAINED OUT LOUD BECAUSE THEY EXPECTED YOU TO USE YOUR BRAIN JUST A L I T T L E

[xtaketwox]

It Looks As Though You're Letting Go

Summary: Everyone is born with an arrow on the back of their hand which points to their soulmate at midnight on their eighteenth birthday. After her parents' disastrous marriage and her father's subsequent depression following her mother's death, Nesta realized a soulmate is nothing more than guaranteed heartache and ruination. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she packs up her car and leaves her family and life behind forever. What she doesn't count on, however, is having a soulmate like Cassian, who may be the one to prove to her that a soulmate is what she needs.

Fic Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Chapter Word Count: 4589

Based on this prompt

Read on AO3, Fic Masterlist

@nessianweek

A/N: There are 5 chapters to this. I'll be updating roughly every other day.

Chapter 1

Love is a disease and soulmates a virus. 

This was what Nesta concluded when her mother died and her father withered away in his grief. Her parents had been soulmates, and that hadn’t stopped their marriage from being terrible. Her mother was overbearing and couldn’t stand that Nesta’s father drifted through life. Her father saw how Nesta’s mother verbally abused their daughters and wouldn’t risk her wrath by stepping in to stop it.

By the time Nesta was sixteen, she made up her mind to reject her soulmate, if she had one. The arrow on her hand—the same arrow that everyone was born with—was nothing but a reminder of bad childhood memories. If it pointed elsewhere on her eighteenth birthday, she would simply ignore it. 

Also at sixteen, she decided that as soon as she turned eighteen, she was going to leave her family, go somewhere nobody knew her, and start fresh. She felt more than a little guilt at leaving her sisters behind, given it took all three of them working more than one job to keep food on the table, but she couldn’t stand to be around the reminder of her father and his willingness to do nothing to keep food and roof over their head. She thought about letting Elain and Feyre know where she was going, but decided it was too risky, especially the way Elain doted on their father. More than anything, she wanted to keep her father from knowing where she was living.

Surprisingly, neither Elain nor Feyre tried to talk Nesta out of leaving as she packed up her car the evening before her eighteenth birthday. They had sold most of their valuables years before, so all Nesta really had were a few books and clothes. She wasn’t planning to go far, just the big city a couple hours away, but she didn’t correct her sisters when they asked if they could fly to visit her. 

She had graduated high school early, despite having to work every weeknight and weekend, and planned to go to community college her first couple years. She hoped to mitigate the damage her inevitable student loans caused her later in life with the combo of community college and a full time job. 

Unsurprisingly, her father had never asked about Nesta’s plans, nor did he deign to notice she was leaving. An hour before she was officially eighteen, she hugged her sisters goodbye, promised to email them, and drove away. 

When the clock struck midnight, Nesta was halfway to her destination. She planned to ignore that arrow on her hand but when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision, she glanced down, scowling at the arrow which now pointed behind her, right back toward the place she just left. She gripped the steering wheel, forcing herself to ignore that voice in the back of her head telling her to go find whomever that arrow was pointing to. Instead, she turned up her radio and drove.

She arrived at the loft she’d rented above a twenty-four hour diner at a little past one in the morning. She had signed the lease a week ago and was told to stop in the diner for her key. 

Her landlord was an eccentric older woman who owned the diner, and who preferred to be in her office overnight. Fewer people to deal with she had said. Nesta had been fortunate enough to find the loft above the diner just as the owner was looking for a new waitress. She handed Nesta her key and her new apron and told her to remember her shift started at six.

Nesta emptied her car and laid out a blanket and pillow on the carpeted floor to try to get a couple hours sleep in before she started her new job. 

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

It wasn’t until nearly halfway through his day that Cassian realized the arrow on his hand had changed. His heart sped up. In the four years since he’d turned eighteen, he’d repeatedly denied being sad he didn’t have a soulmate, while secretly holding out hope that his soulmate just hadn’t turned eighteen yet. With every year that passed, however, that hope decreased.

But there it was, pointing to the left. 

He immediately walked into his supervisor’s office and said, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.” 

He didn’t wait to find out if his supervisor protested before walking back out. Hopefully he had a job when he came back, but if not, he’d find a new one. Besides, everyone wanted a soulmate. His boss would understand the extenuating circumstances when Cassian explained his arrow had finally moved. 

He got in his car and looked down at his hand. He pulled up a map on his phone, trying to decide which roads to take that didn’t have him driving all over the city. He frowned when he realized his arrow seemed to be pointing in the direction of the interstate. 

He shrugged. This was important. If he had to drive somewhere far, he knew it would be worth it. He put his phone down and headed towards the interstate, glancing at his hand every few minutes to make sure the direction hadn’t changed. 

He started to get uneasy when he entered the big city a couple hours later, wondering if how much further he’d have to go, when his arrow changed direction. He cursed and quickly changed lanes to make the next left. He probably looked like a maniac, changing lanes rapidly every few minutes, but eventually, he came to a twenty-four hour diner and the arrow on his hand pointed inside. He parked, walked to the door of the diner, and took a deep breath, his heart thumping hard in his chest as he pulled open the door. 

He knew which woman was his soulmate the moment he saw her, a quick glance down at his hand confirming it. She was so beautiful she stole his breath away, with her golden brown hair braided in a crown above her head, accentuating her graceful neck, reminding him of a ballerina.

She glanced at him, a harried expression on her face as she carried several plates to a table at the far end of the diner. “Sit wherever you like. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Cassian forced himself to sit in the closest booth, trying and failing not to stare as she made her way across the diner. She seemed to be the only person working, although it was between lunch and dinner, so the diner wasn’t currently busy. 

After several minutes, she walked up, set a glass of water in front of him, and asked him what he’d like to order. Cassian was dumbstruck by her eyes, a silvery blue that almost didn’t even look real. She wasn’t even looking at him and he felt pinned to the spot. 

“Sir?”

Cassian blinked, realizing he was staring like a moron. Get it together, asshat, he told himself. “Uh. I need a minute, but I’ll take a coke for now.”

She nodded and turned away before he could think of anything else to say to her. Now that he was here, he had no idea how to even begin to introduce himself. She was clearly too busy to notice that the arrow on her hand was pointing towards him. He realized it must be her birthday if the arrow on his hand had only just started pointing towards her. He wondered what sort of life she lived if she couldn’t even take her eighteenth birthday off. 

When she came back, he ordered the first thing he could see on the menu. He watched her waltz around the diner, refilling glasses and taking orders. When everyone was taken care of, he saw her close her eyes and sag a bit. 

He frowned. Now that he wasn’t feeling so dumbstruck by how beautiful she was, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was clearly exhausted. He wondered how much she would hate him if he offered her what little savings he had, if only to take some of the stress off her.

Probably a lot. If it were the other way around, he certainly would be insulted. Still…it tugged at his heart to see her looking so exhausted.

When he finished his meal, she refilled his coke and left his check. He pulled out his card, setting it on top of the check at the edge of the table. When she returned with his receipt to sign, he gave her a tip more than double the entirety of his bill.

She grabbed the receipt, freezing when she saw the tip amount. Her eyes snapped to his. “What is this?”

He forced himself not to shift. “Your tip. Happy birthday.”

He realized his mistake the second her eyes narrowed. “How do you know it’s my birthday.”

“Uh—” 

She scowled, understanding in her eyes when he hid his hand under the table. “Leave.”

She started to walk away and Cassian scrambled to follow her, grabbing her shoulder and promptly dropping it when she sent a withering glare in his direction.

“Wait,” he started, not even caring that his tone was pleading, “I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner.”

The bell over the door rang and she glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll be right with you,” she said to the patron. Turning her gaze back to him she said, “Leave. I want nothing to do with you.”

Cassian frowned. “But we’re soulmates.”

She shrugged, stepping around him. “I don’t care what we are. I want nothing to do with you.”

He watched her in a daze as she went to help the new patron. He only realized he was still staring at her when she glanced back and glared at him. Turning, he headed back towards his car.

What had he done wrong? Perhaps he shouldn’t have given her such a big tip. Maybe she was insulted. He couldn’t understand why else anyone would turn their soulmate away. Everyone wanted a soulmate, especially since not everyone had one. 

He sat in his car, but couldn’t make himself start the ignition. He couldn’t just return home without at least finding out her name. She hadn’t been wearing a name tag, so he had no idea how else to find her, and didn’t exactly want to drive around following the arrow on his hand all the time. 

An hour later, he was still sitting in his car, lost in thought, when he saw her leave the diner. He quickly exited the car, jogging to reach her. 

“Excuse me!”

She and every other person on the sidewalk turned towards him, her face morphing back into a scowl when she realized it was him who had called out. He didn’t let her obvious irritation deter him.

“Please wait,” he said as she turned away from him and started walking down the road at a brisk pace. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He ignored the curious gazes of the people around them as he caught up to her, matching her pace. “Please, I want to apologize.”

She stopped so quickly, he hardly had time to stop. She crossed her arms. “For what?”

“For angering you.”

“You didn’t anger me.”

Cassian snorted. “Your scowl says otherwise.” He nearly smiled when her scowl deepened. “I shouldn’t have hidden who I was from you. I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset at me.”

“I’m not upset.” She said the words too quickly to be convincing. “I don’t care who you are or why you’re here. I just want to be left alone. I have no interest in a soulmate.”

He shook his head. “But why? Everyone wants a soulmate.”

She shrugged, hugging herself closer. “I don’t.”

They stood silently, her pretending to ignore him while Cassian tried to make sense of her hostility. “Can I at least learn your name?” He held out his hand. “I’m Cassian.”

She stared at his hand and even though her expression didn’t change, he got the sense she was warring with herself. He nearly sighed in relief when she slid her hand into his, shaking it once. “Nesta.” 

She pulled her hand back, crossing her arms again and looking away. He tried to think of anything he could say or do to keep talking to her. “Can I walk you somewhere, Nesta. Wherever you’re headed, I can walk with you.” When her lips thinned, he quickly added. “We don’t even have to talk.”

Her cheeks grew red, though what she had to be embarrassed about, he had no idea. “Fine.” She turned around without waiting for him and strode back in the opposite direction. He jogged lightly to catch up, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself from grabbing hers. After thirty steps, she stopped back in front of the diner, or rather a door just to the right of the entrance. 

“Thank you for the walk home,” she said, turning to unlock the door. 

“This is where you live?” 

She didn’t answer him, pushing the door open and heading through. He rushed to shove his foot in the door when she went to slam it, glad he was wearing his heavy duty work boots. “Wait. Please.”

Nesta exhaled through her nose. “What?”

Cassian scrambled for something to say. “I just…can we talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything?” He placed his hand on the door, pushing gently, relieved when Nesta let him, merely backing up enough to let him inside. There was nothing behind her but a flight of stairs presumably leading to an apartment above the diner. “I just want to get to know you.”

Nesta shook her head. “I told you. I don’t want a soulmate.”

Cassian ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. We don’t have to be soulmates.” He was desperate. “Can we just be friends?”

Nesta’s throat bobbing as she swallowed was the only outward sign that she might not be as calm as she appeared. “To what end? We can’t just pretend we’re not soulmates. It doesn’t work like that.”

Cassian reached for a wisp of hair that had come out of her braid, winding it around his finger and tugging it gently. “It does if we say it does.” He took the fact that she hadn’t immediately turned him down as a good sign. “Please, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that.” Her words lacked anger, however, which he took as a good sign that she was caving. “We need rules.”

Cassian nodded, so happy she wasn’t immediately turning him down that he would likely have agreed to anything. “Of course.”

“We each pay for ourselves when we hang out.”

“I can do that.”

“No kissing.”

He nodded solemnly, already trying to think of ways to get around that one. “Naturally.”

She paused and he took the moment to brush his thumb against her cheek. “Anything else?”

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from her face. “If either one of us falls in love, it’s over.”

Cassian recoiled. “What?”

Nesta’s eyes turned to steel. “The minute either of us falls in love, we don’t talk to each other ever again.”

“Nesta—”

“Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

Cassian could see that she was serious and felt a rock drop in the pit of his stomach. There was no chance that he wouldn’t fall for her if they started hanging out. He was already desperate to do just about anything to see her. What would he do if she demanded they never see one another again? He grew nauseated at the thought, but nodded his head. 

“Of course. Whatever you want, Nes.”

She held out her hand and he shook it in a daze. This was a terrible idea. How was he going to avoid getting his heart broken? 

Nesta held out her phone. “Put your number in.” 

Cassian grabbed it, entering his number and texting himself before handing it back. Nesta turned around and walked up the steps. “I’m running on two hours of sleep, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t invite you inside.”

Cassian watched her until she disappeared inside her apartment. 

There was no chance he wouldn’t get his heart broken.

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

Nesta slept straight through the afternoon until her alarm went off the next day at five am. She groaned as she shut off the alarm, forcing herself to roll out of the bed. She padded to the kitchen, blinking in an attempt to wake herself up as she filled a glass of water and downed it. She hadn’t had time to do any grocery shopping the day before, so she told her growling stomach to shut up as she headed for the bathroom. 

She rinsed her body in the shower, making a promise to herself to take a real shower after her shift. As she pulled on her uniform, she wondered if life would ever get easier, or if she’d always be scraping by. 

Her mind drifted to Cassian, her traitorous heart giving a hard thump as his face flitted across her mind. If nothing else, at least the universe had deigned to give her a hot soulmate. 

She pulled the pins out of her head, wincing as her hair fell out of it’s crown. She definitely should have taken her hair down before sleeping for fifteen hours. She unbraided her hair, running her fingers through it and scratching at her scalp before she carefully combed it back out and rebraided it, her mind still on Cassian.

It was monumentally stupid of her to agree to be friends with him. There was a snowball’s chance in hell that it didn’t end badly, because she already knew she wouldn’t budge on falling in love, and if the desperation in his eyes was any indication, he almost certainly would. She went back to her kitchen to drink another glass of water before she had to walk down to her shift, hoping to trick her stomach into believing she wasn’t hungry. 

When Cassian entered the diner several hours later, Nesta rolled her eyes even as her heart skipped a beat. She marched over to him, glaring.

“How can I help you,” she said, making sure to heavily infuse her tone with annoyance. 

Cassian, completely undeterred, grinned up at her. “Good morning, Nesta.”

“Is it?” she responded. 

“Well, I get to see you,” he said, leaning back and resting his arm along the back of the booth, “so it definitely is a good morning.”

“I’m working.”

“And I’m just here to enjoy more of the delicious food and company this fine establishment offers.”

Nesta snorted to hide her amusement. “If you aren’t going to order, then I’m going to go find something else productive to do.”

“What do you recommend?” he asked. 

Nesta shrugged. “It’s my second day here and I haven’t eaten anything, so I couldn’t tell you what’s good.”

Someone caught her eye, holding up their coffee cup. Nesta nodded at them, slightly annoyed they were hailing her like some kind of servant. She turned back to Cassian.

“I have to go refill that guy’s coffee. Figure out what you want to eat and I’ll be back.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond before turning to grab the coffee pot and refill the patron’s cup. She could feel Cassian’s eyes following her around the room, and tried to ignore the way her heart raced at the thought. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, not given that her livelihood rested on tip money.

When she returned to the table much later than she’d intended, she quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone that long, but that group came in and immediately started ordering beverages and time slipped away from me—”

Cassian placed a hand on her arm. “It’s fine. I’m not angry.”

Nesta jolted at the feel of his skin on hers and jerked herself away, swallowing hard as her face heated. “Do you know what you want?”

Cassian smirked up at her. “Now there’s a loaded question.” His smirk morphed into a smile as Nesta opened her mouth to retort. Before she could, he said, “I’ll just take the scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. And some coffee.”

Nesta nodded, turning away to put his order in. She took several deep breaths, willing the heat to receded from her face. It was only one touch. How could a single brush of skin cause such a heated reaction. She inhaled deeply through her nose and straightened her spine. That would never happen again. Clearly they would have to avoid touching. 

Cassian stayed through lunch, ordering something every so often to avoid having her kick him out. It might have made her angry if she wasn’t also secretly delighted by their ongoing conversations. 

After lunch, he politely asked for the bill, leaving her a tip that should have made her angry but which also secretly delighted her. If nothing else, he was ensuring she was well paid for the time she spent waiting on him. Once he left, she ignored the disappointment coursing through her and focused on finishing her last couple of hours, also ignoring her empty stomach. A meal was technically included in her job description but she hadn’t had the time to eat anything.

When her shift was finally over, she took her apron off, sighing internally at the reminder that she still had to run to the grocery store if she wanted to eat anything. Walking out the door, she stopped short when she saw Cassian standing by the door, several grocery bags hanging off each arm. 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought you might be in need of something to eat,” he replied. “By my calculations, you just arrived in town and probably don’t have any food. I thought I could make you dinner, and picked up some extra essentials while I was out.”

“Are you rich or something?” Nesta blurted out. 

Cassian laughed. “No. In fact, I might be jobless. I’ve skipped the past day and a half.”

Nesta shook her head. “Then how can you afford to do all this?”

Cassian shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Except to Nesta, who had been working since she was legally able, it was. No one had ever helped her, not even her own parents. She unlocked her door and ran up the stairs, leaving Cassian to manage up the stairs on his own as she blinked away tears. 

She sniffed, keeping her back to him as he followed her through the door. She gestured in the general direction of her kitchen. “You can put everything there. I don’t have anything though. I’m…going to go get changed.”

She escaped to her bathroom, stopping to grab a change of clothes on her way in, and closed the door, taking several deep breaths and forcing the tears away. She would not be swayed by something as ridiculous as groceries. She refused. She peeled off her uniform, wondering how much of a bitch it would make her to request Cassian go grab some laundry detergent for her, and took the shower she promised herself that morning. 

Feeling refreshed when she got out, she threw on her clothes, combing her hair and leaving it to cascade down her back in wet waves. Her scalp needed a break after nearly forty-eight hours in a braid. She walked back out and then stopped in her tracks when she saw what greeted her. 

Cassian was plating up food onto paper plates. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some spaghetti with what looked like canned pasta sauce and some garlic bread, but to Nesta it might as well have been steak from a five star restaurant. Her mouth started watering at the sight.

“Where did you get the pots to cook that in?” she asked. She had been planning on spending Cassian’s tip money on some cooking pots and at least one set of dinnerware. 

Cassian smiled as he walked over and put the paper plates onto a blanket she didn’t recognize on the floor. “I figured you didn’t have anything, so I bought a couple cheap ones at the grocery store.”

Nesta felt her throat tighten. “Thank you,” she croaked. 

Cassian frowned up at her, concerned. “You’re welcome?” When she didn’t move from the doorway he added, “It wasn’t that big a deal. They’re not great quality, so you’ll probably want to get something else anyway.”

Nesta shook her head, unwilling to tell him how he was the first person to ever take care of her like this. It felt too vulnerable. She walked over to the blanket and sat, her stomach growling loudly when she picked up her plate. She blushed, but began eating, closing her eyes and groaning when the food hit her tongue. When was the last time she had even eaten? It might have been two days ago, before she left home. 

She made for poor company as she began stuffing her face, not caring for once how she looked as she shoveled food into her mouth. She couldn’t stop the litany of satisfied noises she made with each mouthful. Surely there was nothing special about this spaghetti, but to her it tasted like the best spaghetti on the planet.

As soon as she finished her plate, she stood for seconds. When she turned around to go sit back down, she halted at the look of horror on Cassian’s face. She raised her chin. “What?”

She expected him to make a comment about how unladylike she was eating, but instead he asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

She looked away, returning to sit on the floor. She would need to scour the internet for some cheap furniture soon. Not to mention she needed a real mattress to sleep on. “None of your business.”

She returned to eating, though now that her stomach wasn’t as empty, she did slow down to eat with more decorum. The silence was deafening as she ignored Cassian’s eyes on her. 

Eventually she set her plate down and glared at him. “It doesn’t matter when I ate last. I’m eating now and I won’t go hungry in the future. I just didn’t have time to go to the grocery store yesterday.”

Cassian’s eyes looked worried as he frowned at her. She huffed. “I don’t need you to worry about me, Cassian. I just haven’t had the time until today. I’m not going to starve.”

His expression hardened. “No, you’re not.”

She set her plate down. “What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ll be making sure you have food.”

“I’m not your responsibility and I don’t need your help.”

Cassian shrugged, picking up his plate. “Well, you’ll have it anyway.”

For some reason, his words lit a fire in Nesta’s temper. “Get out,” she said through her teeth.

Cassian looked at her, surprised. “What?”

Her hands balled into fists. “Get out of my house.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Get out!” she yelled, closing her eyes to reign her temper, knowing she was being unreasonable.

There was a pause before Cassian simply said, “Ok.”

Nesta kept her eyes closed, hands balled into fists, until she heard the door close. She loosed a breath as she opened her eyes, her eyes immediately going to the plate of spaghetti in front of her. Her throat tightened as guilt rose and threatened to choke her.

She was such a bitch.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

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

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

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

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

[davidpastrsnack]

fool for you - nolan patrick

a/n: a little nolan hate sex for your enjoyment :) i'm thinking of maybe making this into a series so pleaseeee let me know what you think and if you’re interested in more! and big shoutout to @toplinetommy​ for helping me out with this!

word count: 5k

The boys were back in town for the start of the season and it was finally the first gathering of the year. Claude and Ryanne were generous enough to offer their place, maintaining a balance of enjoying themselves and a night off of parent duties while also keeping their eyes on everyone.

You were in the kitchen, twirling the straw of your drink while you caught up with some of the other girls. It had been a long summer, but right now it felt as if you guys never left. Between hearing everyone’s latest school and work opportunities to gossiping about summer flings, it didn’t take long to get back in the swing of things. But just as Karly was telling you all about the new apartment she and Travis just moved into, your attention was drawn elsewhere.

You could barely even look at him.

Not with the way he was sauntering around the apartment like he was royalty, a musty beer in hand as he scanned the floor for his next target. His long hair was messy and roughly tucked behind his ears. His all black outfit reeked of arrogance, like he knew he didn’t even have to try to look good. He was waving and smiling to everyone he passed, each of them inflating his ego even more as they lit up at his acknowledgement. After scouring the room for long enough, he settled on his final destination, wrapping his arm around a tall blonde, a smirk spreading across his face as she leaned into his touch.

“Y/N?” Karly snapped you out of your trance making your head snap back towards her.

“Yeah,” you responded, shaking it off,  “Sorry.”

“Y/N,” she repeated, but this time her tone couldn’t have been more different, “Tell me you two aren’t going to do this again.”

You squinted your eyebrows in defiance, “I just got distracted, that’s all.”

“Yeah, by Nolan,” Karly scoffed, persistent in her confrontation.

Your relationship with Nolan was interesting, to say the least. It started one night last year when your mutual friends introduced you, the chemistry between you two undeniable as the drinks flowed. Nolan was unlike anyone else you had ever met. He was quiet, but he was an incredible listener, taking in every word you spoke as he got to know you. His attraction to you was overwhelming, his body creeping closer and closer to yours as the night went on. You felt the exact same way, but there was just one little thing holding you back: your boyfriend, Andrew.

You still remember the moment perfectly to this day. Claude innocently asked where Andrew was and that was that. Nolan’s energy shifted to ice, his body turning away from yours as the realization that you weren’t available struck him. You didn’t understand why you were so easily withholding the fact that you were in a relationship from Nolan, you were perfectly happy with the way things stood. Andrew was kind, he was stable, but you hadn’t connected with someone so quickly like you had with Nolan.

Despite your hope to be friends, Nolan shut you out completely after that night. That sweet, rosy-cheeked boy you met in the bar seemingly vanished. He barely spoke to you, and when he did it was always blunt, before eventually he became downright rude. You didn’t know what to think of him anymore, you could only assume that first impression was a fluke. It didn’t take long to convince you that Nolan was a complete asshole so you matched his energy, giving him the same sass he gave you right back.

But little did you know, shutting you out was the only way Nolan knew how to grapple with his feelings for you. He hadn’t been so drawn to someone in years, and his heart dropped when he discovered you had a boyfriend. Instead of getting over it and moving on, he lashed out, hoping he could somehow train himself to hate you. But now over a year later, his feelings hadn’t budged one bit. If anything, they had only grown stronger. There was nothing more attractive to Nolan than a woman who could go toe to toe with his attitude.

“Karly, please,” you begged, “I didn’t even know Nolan was here,” you lied through your teeth.

“What was that about Nolan?” you heard from behind you. You could recognize that voice anywhere, Travis giving you his classic cheeky smile as he turned to face you, pulling Karly into his side.

“Will you please tell your girlfriend that she’s delusional,” you snapped back.

“See I would,” Travis laughed, “Except I don’t think she is. Not about this at least,” Travis teased, gently bumping his hip against Karly’s as she rolled her eyes, far too familiar with his sass.

You didn’t even ask how he already knew what you were talking about. You could only assume that this was a premeditated attack on their part.

“Whatever,” you mumbled, throwing back a long sip of your drink. “How’s camp going?” You asked, desperately trying to change the topic. You didn’t need to hear how great Nolan was for the hundredth time when he had only ever treated you like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“He asked me about you today, you know,” Travis continued, ignoring your plea to move on.

“What could he possibly want?” You groaned.

Although Nolan had never outright admitted it to him, Travis knew exactly what he wanted. It was beyond painful watching him pine for you from afar, but he also knew that it wasn’t his place to completely expose his best friend. He was not afraid of a little meddling, however.

“Y/N, he’s a good guy. He just takes time to open up,” Travis tried to reason with you, “I hope it’s okay I told him about Andrew.”

Your stomach dropped when you heard Travis’s words. It was like he stuck a dagger right through your heart, reopening the wound you thought had healed by now. You were so embarrassed of your failed relationship. Nothing dramatic had happened, you both just sort of fell out of love before deciding it was best to go your separate ways. Regardless of whatever Nolan tried to bring you down with over the past year you always had that to keep you sane. But now that you didn’t, you were terrified of how much more power Nolan would have over you.

“Thanks a lot Travis,” you mocked, “As if he needed another thing to make fun of me for.”

Before he could get another word out you were turning on your heels, dodging Karly’s arm that reached out for you as you hurried out of the kitchen. You pushed your way through the pockets of people, heading straight towards the balcony. As you slid the door open and slipped outside, the cool air instantly calmed you. It was quiet, the hum of the city below you the only sound you heard. You needed a minute to clear your head. Just a minute and then you would put your smile on and head back inside.

“You okay?”

Your body jumped at the sound of Nolan’s deep voice. You couldn’t even have one moment of peace before he was coming for you.

“Like you care,” you scoffed, not even bothering to look at him.

Nolan should have expected that reaction, but he was actually trying. He had been keeping an eye on you all night, deep down praying that you hadn’t noticed, and he saw you storm out. It was unlike you, you had always gotten along so well with everyone and even though it killed him, he was worried about you. But clearly nothing had changed between the two of you, Nolan now already reverting back to his usual defense mechanism.

“Someone’s on edge,” he mumbled, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

At that your spun around to look at him, the insinuation of your breakup thick in his words. Nolan was staring at you, eagerly waiting for your reaction, with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“You’re disgusting,” you snarled, shaking your head in shock of his blatant disrespect. Nolan was a lot of things, but to comment on something as personal as your sex life, or the lack there of, was beyond his usual teasing.

“Try me,” Nolan challenged, “I’ll show you just how disgusting I can be.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that one, his empty proposition so absurd. But Nolan didn’t seem to find it funny, his baby blue eyes staring straight at you.

“As if you’re even capable of getting a woman off,” you snarled, swiftly walking past him, your shoulders roughly bumping as you left him standing alone.

Nolan stood in his place in shock as he watched you weave your way between people through the windows. Clearly he had struck a nerve, you had stormed away from him before but nothing quite like that. A wave of guilt washed over Nolan immediately, his hands coming up to his head and running through his long hair. Reaching for the door, he entered the party once again, his eyes scanning the room for you but he was unsuccessful. You were nowhere to be found, and Nolan was left to assume that you had left all together.

And that was exactly what you had done, deciding that from that moment on all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and catch up on brainless reality shows. You didn’t bother to stop and say goodbye to anyone, knowing they would just rope you into staying regardless of your desire to be alone. The walk back to your apartment was brisk, but by the time you arrived home you had decompressed from the situation and were ready to relax. Nolan only had as much power over you as you let him, and for the rest of the night you decided that you were going to be free from his grasp.

Or so you thought.

Despite his feelings of guilt still lingering, the longer Nolan replayed your interaction over in his head his focus shifted. Did you really think he couldn’t get you off? He knew he shouldn’t care what you thought and that he should move on, but he just couldn’t shake your words. Nolan excused himself from the circle he was sitting with to use the bathroom, when in actuality, he slipped out the front door before anyone had the chance to catch him.

-

Meanwhile at home, you were finally feeling like yourself again, free from anyone’s judgement. Dawned in a matching sweat set, you were sprawled across your couch covered in blankets. Instead of your usual glass of wine, you opted for a hot tea, the remnant alcohol from the party still coursing through your veins. You were already on your third episode when you heard a series of knocks on your door. You groaned as you slowly peeled yourself from the cushion you had practically melted into, confusion and annoyance lacing your face while you wondered who could possibly be coming by at this hour.

When you finally reached the door and looked through the peephole, your mood turned sour right away. It was Nolan, standing tall with his arms hostiley crossed. You wondered if you could get away with just ignoring him. You could turn right back around and pretend you never heard anything, but you knew better. He wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily. Your eyes slipped shut as you braced yourself, finally placing your hand on the doorknob and swinging the door open.

“What-” You began to ask, but you were quickly interrupted.

“You’re wrong,” Nolan hissed, his deep voice making your stomach flutter.

“Excuse me?” You snapped back,  not hiding your emotions very well.

“I have no problem getting anyone off,” Nolan asserted, his cheeks even redder than normal as he spoke.

As much as you wished you could control your reaction better, your eyes widened slightly at his words. It wasn’t your fault, you told yourself, it was all his. He had no right showing up to your apartment dressed to perfection, his warm scent clouding your senses as he towered over you in the doorway. But even still, you couldn’t let him off the hook quite yet.

“You came all the way over here to tell me that?” You chuckled, “Congratulations, Nolan. I’m happy for you, really.” The sarcasm was thick in your words as you mustered up a reply. Your hand moved to push the door shut, but Nolan beat you to it, using the weight behind his own hand to hold the door open.

“You don’t believe me?” He questioned, his eyebrows raising as he stared down at you. He knew this was pointless, that you were just trying to get a rise out of him, but it was working. As much as he hated himself for it, his pride wouldn’t let him walk away.

“Nolan,” you whined, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You could admit that sometimes you enjoyed the banter between you two, but you were too tired right now. The hum of your TV and the warmth of your couch was calling your name, but here you were with Nolan practically begging you to nurse his ego back to health.

“Say you’ll let me prove it. Right now.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. There was no way he was serious? Right? But the way Nolan was standing in front of you with his arms still crossed and his face dead-set on yours, you couldn’t help but wonder if he was.

“Nolan, I-,” you stuttered, suddenly filled with nerves as the way he towered over you clouded your judgement. “That’s not a good idea,” you said, finally gathering yourself enough to get a coherent thought out.

“Oh please, Y/N,” Nolan muttered, “Don’t act like you’ve never wondered.”

“Wondered what?” You rebutted, even though you knew exactly where he was going with this.

A small smirk creeped its way onto his face, his body slowly inching closer and closer to yours. Your eyes slipped shut as he invaded your personal space, the warm scent of his cologne overwhelming your senses. You jumped when he started whispering, his hot breath against your skin making your own hitch in the back of your throat.

“What it would be like if I touched you,” Nolan hummed, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight as his lips so faintly brushed against your skin, “If I fucked you.”

You could feel your eyes roll back into your head as he spoke, the tension between the two of you thicker than molasses. Before you had even fully registered what was happening, Nolan was pulling away, sternly staring down at you. Your eyes fluttered open when you felt his warmth separate from your own, the cool air between your bodies snapping you out of your trance. He was expressionless, waiting for you to do or say something, anything.

“I stand by what I said,” you asserted, your eyebrows raising slightly as you challenged him, “But I’ll give you a chance to prove me wrong.”

Now it was Nolan’s turn to be taken aback. Sure, this is what he came for, but he didn’t think it would happen. Never did he ever imagine that he would have the chance to have you. But here you were offering, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes. His gaze trailed down to your lips, soft and smooth from the lip balm you put on earlier after taking off your makeup. For longer than he could even remember he had thought about what they would feel like against his own, nibbling the lobe of his ear, sucking down his neck, gently biting into the ripples of his toned stomach, before finally reaching the place he needed them the most.

“I-,” Nolan stuttered, nervously lifting his hand to rub the back of his neck, “Y/N, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

After spending so much time secretly pining for you and mastering his own self-sabotage, Nolan couldn’t let himself do this. He wouldn’t.

“What? Someone’s a little scared now, hmm?” You challenged, ever so slightly pulling the flesh of your bottom lip between your teeth as you tilted your head at him.

Just like that, the switch inside Nolan’s head turned again. You were enjoying the game just as much as he was. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. Before he let his nerves get the best of him again, Nolan was pushing his way through the frame, slamming the door shut from behind him before his hands were harshly grabbing at your waist.

As if you were on cue, you jumped into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist and your hands circling his neck. Your lips instantly met in a rough kiss, Nolan wasting no time in asserting his dominance as his tongue overpowered yours. You let out a soft moan against his skin as he flattened his hands across your ass, the tips of his fingers dangerously close to your inner thighs catching you off guard.

Nolan could have sworn he blacked out a little at the sound after spending so long just imagining what you would sound like. A quiet fuck slipped out from his mouth, blood rushing straight to below his waist. He suddenly pulled away from you, but only to get a look at his surroundings and see where he was going.

“That way,” you whined against his neck, pointing in the direction of his bedroom.

“Someone’s impatient,” he teased, reveling in how desperate you were for him already.

Just moments later you felt your back land on your bed, the soft material of your bedding engulfing you. Nolan laid on top of your breathless body, his cold hands snaking underneath your hoodie as he attached his mouth to your neck. You were lost in the contrast of his gentle kisses and sharp bites, but it didn’t take long for you to snap out of it.

“If you leave a single visible mark on me, Patrick,” you snarled, pushing his head away from your sensitive skin.

“Patrick now, huh?” Nolan mocked, the smile on his face almost giving away how much he was enjoying this.

You simply rolled your eyes at his comment, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him back down to your lips. He obliged, this time putting the entirety of his weight onto yours, earning another moan from you. You always knew he was big, it was one of the things that made hating him so hard. He was so strong, so broad, and now you got to feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

As much as you hated to admit that you could have stayed there making out with Nolan until the end of time, you were getting impatient. Without any warning, you pushed him off of you, reaching your hands up from the waistline of your hoodie and pulling it off. Nolan’s reaction to seeing you braless made you swoon, his eyes widening as he took the sight of you in. But just as he began to lean back down, you stopped him.

“Ah ah ah,” you whispered, shaking your head.

He knew exactly what you wanted, letting out a small laugh before peeling his shirt off. You had to keep yourself from drooling as soon as he did, the defined lines of his body making you audibly whimper. To put it plainly, Nolan was beautiful.

Nolan made his way back down to your level, his arms resting on either side of your head holding his weight above you. He resumed his attack on your neck, this time hastily making his way down with a trail of wet kisses before scattering bruises across the tops of your boobs. Your body arched up into his in anticipation, the pressure of his growing bulge making you weak.

“Nolan,” you whined, abandoning whatever dignity you had left.

Hearing you beg with his name like that was like pure ecstasy. Nolan finally gave up his act and moved his fingertips to tease the waistband of your sweats, pausing to watch the way you squirmed for him. He would do absolutely whatever you wanted at this point.

“Easy baby,” he cooed, the pet name making you momentarily forget the throbbing between your legs as your heart fluttered. “Can I?” He asked, eyes locked with yours.

You nodded embarrassingly fast, so desperate for him to do anything, but it wasn’t enough for the long-haired boy.

“Use your words,” Nolan challenged, needing your verbal approval before he moved further.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

Just like that, he was pulling your sweats down in one swift motion, the cool air enveloping your burning legs. You were so clouded with lust that you had almost forgotten the circumstances that brought you here, but Nolan was not shy to remind you.

“Cute undies,” he chirped, poking fun at the very plain, but very comfortable, boyshorts you had on.

You smacked him across the head, not finding his little joke very funny. “I am so sorry for not wearing my best lingerie while sitting at home alone, please excuse me.”

Nolan chuckled at your response. “Apology accepted,” he laughed, sending you a quick wink of reassurance. He would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately let his mind wander to what you would look like dawned in lingerie, but he didn’t have time for that, he had a task at hand.

Nolan slowly dragged one finger across your core ever so slightly, lifting his gaze to watch your reaction. Your head fell back against the pillow, back arching off the bed at the barely there contact. You could feel yourself practically dripping and you just knew the soft cotton material of your underwear was soaked through.

“Awfully wet for someone you say you hate so much,” Nolan mumbled, watching you thrash.

“I do hate you,” you responded, your voice laced with disgust as you tried so hard not to give him what he wanted. He had barely touched you and you were already a wreck. Get it together, Y/N, you scolded yourself.

Nolan chuckled at your desperate attempt to gather yourself, deciding he would just make it that much harder for you. He moved his fingers to focus on your clit, slowing rubbing circles through the fabric. Smiling as your legs tensed, he couldn’t help himself from offering yet another jab, “Fuck, I don’t even think I have to take these off.”

God dammit, Nolan, you thought to yourself. But he was right. Between how much he worked you up earlier and the way his fingers were giving you the perfect amount of friction, you were close. Embarrassingly close.

Nolan picked up his pace, his devilish smirk growing as your legs faintly started to shake. Before long you were seeing stars, his fingers now moving in a quick side to side motion against your clit as you fell over the edge. Your eyes were screwed shut, and despite your best efforts to stay as quiet as possible, your moans got the best of you.

The sight of you cumming was the most incredible thing Nolan had ever witnessed. The way your back arched, how tightly your hands clenched the sheets, and most magically, how perfect his name sounded falling from your lips.

“Nol, Nol,” you whimpered, the pressure becoming too much.

He obliged, finally pulling his fingers away before bringing them to his mouth, sucking them clean. Your head fell back into your pillow yet again at that, the way his blue eyes were practically staring into your soul making your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“So much for not being able to get you off, hmm?” You heard Nolan mutter. You could feel the outline of his smirk pressed against the skin of your thigh, his cockiness growing exponentially in just the past few minutes. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, not that you even knew what you would say to that.

Your silence was satisfactory enough to Nolan. In all the time you two had been going after each other, rarely did Nolan get the last word. But tonight he had managed to shut you up with just a few flicks of his fingers. While you were simmering in your post-orgasm shame, he was gloating.

“Want another one, sweetheart?” Nolan hummed, the pet names escaping his mouth without even thinking now. He slowly trailed his way back up your thighs before hooking a finger in your underwear, gently pulling them down. “Fuck,” he groaned at the sight of your bare pussy, glistening in the dim light from his previous work. Your hips unconsciously lifted off the mattress, the cool air making you desperate for his touch once again.

“Oh honey,” Nolan mocked, “Tell me what you want.”

“Nolan,” you groaned, your voice laced with annoyance. You knew exactly what you wanted, but more importantly you knew he knew too. But of course, he was going to make you say it.

“Hmm?” He questioned, playing dumb as you struggled in front of him.

“I want you to fuck me,” you finally gave in, “Happy?”

“Very,” he quipped, “Now turn around.”

You felt yourself clench at his order, wasting no time doing just what he said. Settling in on all fours, you braced yourself for what you could only assume was to come.

“Fuck, you’re something,” Nolan groaned, his hands running down your back to the curve of your ass. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, grateful that your face was hidden in the comforter.

“Wait, I don’t have-” But before he could finish his sentence, you were interrupting.

“You’re not going near me without a condom on,” you asserted, lifting your head just enough to point to your nightstand, “Bottom drawer.”

“Thanks a lot,” Nolan scoffed at your jab, but still eagerly grabbed one regardless.

With next to no warning he was slowly pushing into you, the pressure making your mouth fall open in a silent moan as your body adjusted to his size. Nolan sighed as he pressed into you, mumbling a string of swears at how your pussy enveloped him. He was patient, waiting just like that until you gave him permission to move.

“Nolan,” you whined, “Please.”

That was all it took for Nolan to start snapping his hips, agonizingly slow at first, making you feel every inch of him, before he sped up his pace.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, the way your body looked in front of him almost too much to handle. The arch of your back had him weak, one of his hands reaching to tangle in your hair as he used his grip for leverage.

You felt like you were floating with the way Nolan was hitting all the right places. It was funny to you know that his line that started this whole thing was actually painfully accurate. It had been a while. After Andrew you tried to fill the void with random hookups, but it didn’t take long for you to cleanse your phone of all dating apps and opt for nights out with the girls instead of on the prowl. But now, you were reminded of everything you had been missing out on with the way Nolan was working you.

“I- I’m,” you sputtered out, unable to find the words on your first try, “I’m so close, Nol.”

Instead of most guys you had been with you would take that as their sign to go faster, Nolan didn’t, instead keeping the exact same pace. His grip on your one hip got tighter as he felt himself get closer too, his other hand in your hair sinking down to meet your clit, the familiar pattern of his fingers bringing you that much closer.

“Go ahead, honey,” he cooed, leaning into your ear as he encouraged you, “That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

That was all you needed to hear to push you over, your muffled cries filling the air as Nolan fucked you through your high. Your legs shook around him as he continued, your body going completely limp. He was right behind you, his deep groans into your neck sending vibrations through your body as he spilled into the condom.

Nolan hovered above you just like before rolling over onto his back. You collapsed into the mattress, the tingling sensation still coursing through your lower half. You both stayed like that catching your breath in silence. While the reality of what you just did began to sink in for you, Nolan was basking in it.

He turned his head to get a peek at you, but you were facing the other way as far from him as possible. Your body language could not have been more clear, and the realization made Nolan’s heart drop. He knew this wasn’t going to change anything, he was a lot of things but he wasn’t dumb. But even still, part of him deep down hoped that maybe, just maybe, it could.

His thoughts were interrupted by your sudden movement. Despite the stinging between your legs, you lifted yourself up and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a sip of the water on your nightstand. Now that the lust of the moment was long gone, you were in shock that you let that happen. The sex was incredible, undeniably some of the best you had ever had, but you knew that this was going to make things so unbelievably complicated from here on out.

Before you could let yourself spiral too much, you stood up, hastily making your way to the en suite bathroom. Nolan was entranced by the shape of your silhouette in the dim room, but your next words before you disappeared reminded him just where you two stood.

“Lock the door on your way out.”

[apotatomashedbybts]

All Tints Of You & Me

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi × reader (f)

Genre: Fluff, strangers to lovers au

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I personally don't know anything about Brazil carnivals and most of the data are collected from internet. Many places and characteristics are made by me and are fully fictional. This fic is yet to be re-edited.

Warning: none yet

Word Count: 5.1k+

Banner: made by me

Posted on: 02.01.22

[Summary: Stranded alone by a lone highway of Brazil the only way to reach your destination was hitchhiking. Luckily enough you got a lift from a cute boy named Yoongi whose destination was also the same as you - The Rio Carnival. ]

Author's note: This gift was created through @bangtansecretsanta ​ and is for @minyfic . Hi Yus! I am your secret santa 🥺 I am Anwesha, or you can simply call me Nesh! It's been so fun and fulfilling to get to know you! I hope that we will continue to keep in touch!

[Part Zero]

[Complete fic will be posted soon! Please visit again!]

There's a saying that goes 'the tortoise spoke before thinking'. Obviously you were the tortoise here and you definitely acted before thinking it through now that you were standing outside the International Airport of Brasilia after a long long 22 hours of air journey from Cape Town with your bank account almost saying to spare itself. 

Letting out a deep sigh you ran your hand through your messy hair that hadn't touched water since you left and not to mention you stank because of the very same reason. 

You huffed and got out of the perimeter of the airport. You were hungry to say the least and the haversack on your back felt heavier than it was supposed to. Before coming out of the airport you had checked the cafes and restaurants inside it and to save yourself from embarrassment and further money loss you had turned back and got out of there before you could have second thoughts. 

You had already spent almost a quarter of your savings for the flight ticket and even that was the cheapest flight you could find. But that wasn't your biggest concern now – which was, was the question that how were you going to reach Rio De Janeiro which was almost 1100km from where you were located right now. 

"Stupid, stupid!" You scolded yourself for not thinking about the possible outcomes of leaving your home in a whim. 

You dragged your tired body and after walking a few metres you found a small local restaurant which served full course meals at, what you thought, was affordable enough. 

While waiting for the food to arrive you began searching for cabs and other transports that could take you to Rio before the carnival began. 

You scrolled through all the options only to be disappointed at the fact that you were in no position to spend a thousand dollars behind a bus or cab fare. Train could have been an option if you had enough time in hand. 

Your expression must have been pretty distraught because it caught the eye of the owner of the restaurant. So when you were paying the bill, which was roughly 15 dollars, she peered from behind the counter and stood up pushing her thick rimmed glasses more towards her eyes to give you some complementary refreshments and asked in broken English, "First time here?"

With a tired smile you nodded a yes.

"Thought so. Many people come here during this time of the year, for the carnival." She put some candies in a paper bag and while handing it to you she continued, "But that's really far from here. Are you here to visit places nearby? I can arrange place for you to stay!"

"Ah.. no actually," you scratched the back of your head and replied hesitantly, "I am here for the carnival too. But now I don't know how to get there and I am short on money too," you told her your problem before you could decide whether you could trust her or not.

When you refused the bag she was giving she smiled kindly and said, "These are on the house. I know how difficult it can be for solo young travelers, that's why I opened this affordable restaurant. You see, I have a son about your age who is always travelling to different places and he used to complain," she smiled looking at you through the opening on the top of her glasses as if she was saying something silly, "he still complains, about how food is costly in many places. So I opened this place a few years back and I am more than happy to be of help!" 

You were still sceptical but decided not to judge her since she hadn't done anything scammy yet. 

For the small while you put the bag in your haversack she kept looking at you doing so and when you finished doing it she said, "The only way I can think of right now for you is hitchhiking. Many people travel all the way from here as a roadtrip to the carnival! May be some can give you a lift!" 

You looked at her, processing and imagining all the possible scenarios in the split second and blinked. Seeing you speechless the lady in her 50s said as if to convince you, "I know this might seem dangerous but many people do so here! If you know how to hitchhike then it shouldn't be a problem for you!" 

On any other day, in any other situation, in your hometown, with lots of money in your pocket, you would have probably laughed at the lady for giving you such a ridiculous idea but given the situation you were in hitchhiking seemed to be the best option. 

Sensing you had taken her suggestion into consideration the lady asked carefully, "Should I pack you some food if you get hungry on the way? You might not get food this cheap on the way." 

You laughed innately and with an enthusiastic yes you nodded. 

Paying for the packed food you threw the haversack on your back and thanking the lady you got out of the restaurant to go to the highway. 

Upon reaching the highway all you could see was a long pitch road coming from an oblivion and disappearing into one. Surprisingly enough you couldn't see a single vehicle in this blazing noon. 

After waiting for about ten minutes you started seeing cars, trucks magically appearing from both sides of the roads. 

You were quick to put your hand upwards with your thumb pointing towards the direction where you wanted to go. 

But as magically the vehicles appeared on the road they disappeared just as 'magically' ignoring your desperate thumb signals. 

You huffed and kicked stones in frustration as the road became empty again. You felt sweat trickle down your back and you beat yourself up mentally for wearing a black leather jacket over your black straight leg cotton pant and black shirt. 

"What was I drinking when I chose this outfit?" You released another set of frustrated sigh and sat on a big rock by the road to wait. 

After about ten minutes of waiting and wiping sweat off of your forehead you noticed a medium sized white coloured motorhome emerge at the horizon amidst the trembling heated air. 

You immediately got up and stood in the ideal hitchhiking position. 

You didn't know what you were expecting but you certainly didn't expect it to move past you leaving your hopeful face to turn into a dejected one. 

You didn't have the heart to watch the motorhome leave so you let your tired body sit in a squatting position like a ragged doll and hid your face on your knees.

"I shouldn't have done this! Now what am I supposed to do?" Tear droplets formed in your eyes even though you tried hard not to cry in the middle of nowhere. 

What brought you out of the state of being sad was the sound of a slow car and you turned only to see the motorhome backing towards where you were. 

Stopping in front of you the driver rolled down the hazy window of the passenger seat and there was a cute boy with blonde hair peeking through the window.

"Where to?" He asked. 

"To the Rio carnival! If you are not going there then it'd also be fine if you drop me somewhere nearby!" You yelled, making sure your voice reached him. 

He opened the door of the passenger side on the right of the motorhome and said with his deep voice, "Hop in!" 

Your face lit up as soon as you heard that phrase. 

You were quick to get in and he signalled you to keep the haversack in a compartment above the lounge seats which were located just behind the driver's seat. 

While you kept the bag you quickly looked around the inside of the motorhome and felt quite amazed at how beautifully furnished the interior was. It was very much evident from the outside but the interior surpassed your expectations. 

As soon as you sat back on the passenger seat he started the engine. 

"Thank you for the lift! I can't thank you enough for this honestly! My ears were dying to hear those words!" You exclaimed as soon as you hit the road. 

His face barely showed any expression and to your gratefulness he just gave a small nod and said, "It's nothing really. And I am going to the carnival anyways." 

He paused for a second then giving you a quick glance he asked, "By the way, why were you trying to hitchhike on this bypass road instead of the highway?" 

"Oh that," you started replying as if you completely understood what he said then suddenly realising what he just asked you, you screamed with shock written all over your face, "what?" 

"It's just two of us here. There's no need to shout. I can hear you completely fine." He said calmly, not taking his eyes off the road. 

"Sorry.. it's just that I didn't realise that it's the bypass road.. Now that I think about it that must have been the reason why the road is so deserted." You replied as if you had uncovered a big mystery.

A light chuckle left his lips, "Well, you are quite lucky that I take this road every year since it takes less time than the highway to reach the carnival. We will reach there in 16 hours through this road whereas the highway takes almost 20 hours." 

"I should thank my luck then." You smiled while pretending to sit comfortably on the seat. 

"Wrong answer. You should thank me." He replied seriously. 

"Right.. thank you…" You looked at him dragging the word 'you' to know his name. 

"Yoongi." He replied and shifting the gear he steered the wheel turning left u-turn on the road. 

"Thank you Yoongi. My name is Y/n by the way." You smiled. 

His lips curved into smile barely noticeable and giving you a small nod he continued to drive. 

May be it was for the tiresome journey you had so far or may be it was the inside of the motorhome being so comfortable that despite the unpleasant weather outside you had dosed off. 

When you woke up almost 2 hours had passed and you woke up with your head still dizzy for sleeping so much. 

Stirring in your seat for a while you sat up and saw that your seat was inclined backwards. You did not remember doing that, so you looked at Yoongi. 

"Thanks to your sleeping I didn't need to turn on the music system." He spoke with a straight face. 

"I was going to thank you for inclining the seat but now I wish to take that back." You replied narrowing your eyes at him realising what he meant. 

"It wasn't me who was snoring though!" He defended himself. 

Not finding any words to reply to his remark you let out a hefty sigh and turned to look outside the window. 

You could feel him smiling behind your back and you were supposed to be angry but somehow you found him cute and didn't actually believe that you were at a point of bickering within a few hours. 

You had spaced out for a few minutes when Yoongi's voice brought you back, "So, where are you coming from?" 

"Ooh! Someone seems interested in me." You cooed. 

"Not really. But it's better than travelling with a complete stranger." He blinked several times while still looking forward at the road. 

It would be a lie if you say that you didn't want to know about him too and his reasoning seemed fair enough so you replied, "I am from Cape Town. Well not proper Cape Town. But a beach town near it. Have you heard of the famous Queen's Bay Beach? I live somewhat near to that area." Gaining a nod from him which implied that he had heard of the beach you asked, "Where are you from?" 

"I am from Daegu." He looked at you and seeing your lost expression he said, "It's in South Korea." 

"Wow, that's pretty far! You come here every year for the carnival?" You asked with big eyes. 

"Yup. I have been coming here for three years now. It's pretty amazing!" He smiled. 

You nodded and replied enthusiastically, "I have seen so many videos! That's why I kind of ran away from home to come here!" 

"What?" For the first time you heard his voice go up. "So you are telling me that soon I have to take part in a chasing scene with the police?" He asked with a worried expression. 

You laughed and putting the phone on charge you replied, "Well, if you wish to!" 

"If it gives you a clearer idea then let me tell you that I'll drop you at the nearest town because I do not wish to participate in a cat and mouse run with the police!" He increased the speed by 5km on the motorhome. 

"Look at your face!" You couldn't control your laughter and nearly fell on the front because you were laughing so much. 

Once you stopped and looked at still confused Yoongi you said, "It's nothing like that." 

"It's not?" He asked, visibly calming down. 

You watched him as he brought down the speed to it's initial state and looked forward at the road while saying, "I did run away but from the suffocating life there. It was getting to my head… the same monotonous routine with nothing to look forward to as if I am a winded doll. So one night I decided to get out of there, quit my job and boarded the first plane I got. I know that I have to go back but I want to take in as much as possible to cherish. My family knows so you don't have to worry about that." You glanced at him and with an embarrassed smile you said, "Silly, isn't it? Other people go through so much more." 

Even though you didn't want it your eyes felt moist. 

"Ah! Why do I have to be such a crybaby?" You scolded yourself mentally and wiped it while facing your window, trying to be discreet. 

"I don't think it's silly at all." You turned at Yoongi's words. 

"It doesn't matter if you are going through something that is considered as more painful or less painful. It's you who is feeling it in the end and you are allowed to react to it however you want. As long as you get up and continue living a good life for yourself you are winning. Of course you are not allowed to murder someone even if you are sad though." He laughed and then continued, "But I hope you find something to look forward to and cherish and love in the few days you are on your taken vacation." He smiled widely. 

At that moment, against the 3pm sun, you thought that was the most beautiful smile you have ever seen. 

Realising you had been silent for far too long and your heartbeat was picking up pace you said, "Wow! You are not so bad as I thought!" 

Yoongi let out a dramatic sigh, "Ah! I am stained with such misconceptions again! I guess that's what my life has become." 

After a silent second he looked at you and both of you bursted out in fits of laughter. 

About half an hour later Yoongi stopped the motorhome at a nearby market to buy some extra groceries for dinner. After buying everything needed you hopped in the motorhome again only for it to be stopped near an almost empty gas station. 

"We will be stopping here for half an hour so if you need to take a shower then you can do it. The shower is in the back and towels are in the cabinet next to it." He told you before getting out of the vehicle and disappearing inside the in&out of the gas station. 

Taking off your jacket you smelt yourself by bringing your shirt close to your nose. You immediately regretted doing it making a disgusted face and thought, "No wonder he told me to take a shower." 

Taking out a comfortable pair of pajamas from your haversack you made your way towards the shower. 

You were just in the middle of shampooing your hair with your eyes closed when you heard Yoongi's shocked voice, "Oh shit!" which made you open your eyes and you saw him a few steps away from the shower turning his back towards you. 

It was just a fraction of second that he took to yell an apology to you and almost run away after closing the sliding plywood gate that separated the washroom section from the rest of the motorhome – whose existence you had failed to notice prior. 

After getting out of the washroom you looked around only to notice Yoongi strolling outside near a patch of planted flowers with iced Americano in his hand. 

You got out of the motorhome to have a walk yourself knowing that the longer journey is yet to be travelled.

Awkwardly you walked up to Yoongi and muttered a small hi when he noticed you from afar. He waved back at you and spoke as you reached by his side, "I am very sorry about earlier. But you should have closed the door!" 

"Yeah, of course! I have made this motorhome myself, isn't it? So I should know everything about it!" You retorted back and looked away. 

You were right and Yoongi realised that sooner than he would admit. So he apologized again, "I am sorry. I should have showed you." 

You looked at him and noticing the unintended pout on his lips you laughed. He was too adorable to stay mad at so you replied, "I am forgiving you this time. Next time I am not sure." 

He smiled and asked, "Do you want coffee?" 

"No, I'm fine." You thoughtfully replied. You have to save every penny you could. 

But Yoongi insisted, "It's my treat. Consider it as an apology coffee!" 

You thought for a second. You were craving for coffee, you won't lie, so you nodded in agreement and he went inside the in&out after telling you to wait there. 

You sat curled up on your seat as Yoongi hit the engine. Strangely it felt good to be on the road. You sipped on your coffee and watched the sun setting behind the city. 

You looked at Yoongi and asked, "Are you going to be at the festival for all the four days?" 

"Nope," he answered, "there's going to be a body painting competition at the carnival on the first day. I am professionally a painter so…" He shrugged dismissively. 

"No way!" You squealed and keeping the coffee in the cup holder between the seats you sprang up to sit straight. 

Before Yoongi could react to your squeal you exclaimed excitedly, "A painter? Oh my God! That's so awesome! I would have never guessed that you are a painter." 

Yoongi chuckled at your excitement and asked, "Then what did you think I do?" 

"Well, nothing in particular. Maybe a spoiled brat?" You teased while pretending to think hard. 

"Hey! That's not fair!" He protested. 

You laughed, "Sorry sorry. In all honesty I didn't think anything… Just a sweet guy who gave me lift." Your words trailed slowly in the end and you didn't know why you were saying so. 

Yoongi rubbed his nose a little, may be to hide the blush that was trying to take over his cheeks and replied, "That's a good thing I guess." 

"To be completely honest, I am here for the body painting competition as well." You stared at the long road ahead.

"So.. you are a painter too?" 

"No no.." you scratched the back of your head as if you were going to say something embarrassing and said, "It's actually something I wanted to do for a long time. I want to be a model for the body painters." 

You turned at him with a quick motion with your palms put together and eyes closed together and talked as if you were pleading, "Please do not judge. I am not a weirdo! I just wanted to be part of this experience!" 

You opened one of your eyes at the sound of Yoongi laughing and you looked at him properly and confusedly. 

"I didn't say anything. And it's not something that makes you a weirdo or a pervert." He said after he stopped laughing. 

"Many people join the festivities because it's fun! You are no different." He said and lighted the headlights of the motorhome.

"You are more chill than," you got cut off in the middle by Yoongi's words, "I seem I would be?" 

"Y-yeah. Kind of. But after spending just a few hours with you I have realised that you are a really good person." You replied smiling. 

"I wouldn't tell that about myself but thank you I guess." 

You swivelled the passenger seat to face him and asked in a serious tone, "But tell me can I participate in the competition if I don't have a painter partner!?" 

Then as if coming to a realisation you asked, "Do you already have a model? If not I can be your model!" 

Seeing your expectant expression he explained softly, "This year the criteria have changed. The pairs are not predetermined anymore. Once you sign up as either a model or a painter you'll be assigned randomly." 

With a small 'oh' escaping your lips you turned your seat around and looked outside falling into a deep silence. 

You thought you had prepared yourself for such event. Painted by an unknown painter, revealing yourself to a complete stranger, you thought it was easy. But it was easy as long as you were far away from it with just the idea of it. To think that you were closer to it made you feel anxious. In a corner of your heart you really wanted to be painted by Yoongi – mostly because you had begun to know him as a decent person and the rest was probably because he made you feel safe. 

You didn't know how long you had been clutching your hands in anxiousness; what brought you back to reality was the sound of radio that Yoongi had just turned on. 

It was the local news channel saying something in Portuguese. 

After listening to it for a minute Yoongi turned it off and muttered to himself, "It's going to rain soon." 

Just then a long string of lightning bolted through the dark cloud that had formed in the sky in the meantime. 

Yoongi stepped on the accelerator and said, "I hope you don't get dizzy easily." 

Luckily you didn't get dizzy throughout the way that Yoongi had run the motorhome like a mad horse. You were also quite surprised that there wasn't a single police car mobile behind you for speeding. Perhaps no one wanted to deal with the weather. 

After two hours of driving without saying anything Yoongi slowed down near a village-like town when the rain had just started to fall in small droplets. Finding a small deserted field just by the road Yoongi parked the motorhome and leaving a long sigh he smiled at you, "This is our stay for now. We can continue on the road once the rain stops." 

He got off the vehicle and switched on the jacks and wheel blocks to make it the permanent site. You got off the vehicle following him and watched what he was doing like a curious puppy. 

When he finished he flipped his hair away from in front of his eyes that got wet from the drizzle of rain and smiled at you, "We are done for now. Let's go inside." 

"Was he always this beautiful or is the rain just playing with my mind?" You thought as you stared at Yoongi who was waiting for to head inside with him with his almost set hair and white loose tshirt sticking to his well-built body because of the raindrops. 

"I want to stay here for a bit." You said smiling. 

"Okay then. Don't stay out for too long. There are wild animals out there." He replied jokingly and went inside. 

As soon as he entered the motorhome you sat down covering your face. You knew this feeling all too well – you were crushing on Yoongi. 

"Ah! I am doomed. This is going to be difficult." You mumbled. 

Soon the buzzing sound of rain took over the surrounding along with the overwhelming scent of the fresh rain soaked earth. You breathed chest-full letting the scent take over your lungs, your mind. The feeling of the drizzle of rain on your body passed a feeling through your veins that made you happy, that calmed you down. You let the rain wet your entirety with open arms, welcoming it in your embrace with your eyes closed. 

Unknown to you Yoongi watched you from inside the motorhome through the window with a faint smile on his lips. 

"So adorable." A thought passed his mind and to quickly dismiss it he called out to you, almost nervously as if he didn't know what to do to bury his thoughts. 

"Coming!" You shouted and made a small run towards the middle gate of the motorhome that Yoongi had left open for you. 

You were dripping wet so you tip toed quickly across the lounge and kitchen area towards the washroom. Upon reaching there you took out a towel from the cabinet and began drying your hair. 

Yoongi had already changed his clothes and was cutting vegetables that he had bought earlier at the market to make dinner. 

You didn't want to drench the floor anymore so you asked Yoongi, "If you don't mind can you please pass me my haversack?" 

Yoongi turned his head and with a slight bow he said, "Yes ma'am," and washing his hands he gave you your haversack from where you kept it earlier. 

You folded your arms and glared at him, "Are you mocking me again?" 

"What? No! That was the most respect you gave me till we met so I thought I should reciprocate!" He flashed his gummy smile at you and went back to cutting ingredients. 

"R-right?" That was the only word you could muster as a tingling sensation spread throughout your stomach. 

Trying to ignore it you knelt down and looked through your bag for another set of pajamas. You looked through it several times but couldn't find any. 

Seeing you going through your belongings so many times Yoongi asked, "What happened?" 

You looked at him with a worried expression and replied, "I haven't brought any extra set of pajamas to wear! Only a extra pair of shorts and two sets of outwear that I can't wear now!" 

"Ah! What am I gonna do?" You whined to yourself and sat there blankly staring at the bag and then as a result of wearing the wet clothes for too long you sneezed. 

"Bless you." Yoongi replied instinctively and going over to one of the cabinets above the lounge seats he brought out his bag. 

"Here." He tossed one of his many black shirts to you. You grabbed it and hesitated for a bit, "Is it okay for you to give me this?" 

"Of course. That's why I gave it to you. And it's clean so you can wear it." He assured you. 

"Thanks." You replied softly and closed the washroom door to change into your shorts and his shirt. 

As soon as you closed the door you stopped for a moment and then let out a silent scream while grabbing your head and jumping in tippy toes. 

You thought you were going to go crazy with your heart beating so fast. Taking a deep breath you looked at your red face in the mirror and smiled shyly. 

"Calm down you stupid bitch!" You placed a soft slap on your cheek and then doing a finger gun at the mirror you stripped to change your clothes. 

Yoongi turned to look at you with his lazy eyes which, you thought, got bigger as they laid upon you, as you came out from the washroom in his shirt. 

The shirt was a bit loose on you and reached upto you midthigh – a perfect fit, according to you. 

"Comfy?" He asked pointing at the shirt. 

You grinned at him and replied, "Very!" 

Giving you a slight happy nod he said, "There's a hairdryer in the basin cabinet. Feel free to use it." 

"You are being too kind to me." You pouted and went back to bring out the hair dryer. 

"Well, my art teacher used to say that I should always treat my guests like God." He shrugged and went back to cooking. 

"That's too generous. Not every person is worth that." You tried to argue. 

"You are right but I don't judge anyone unless I am given a reason to." He replied while putting the pot of noodles down from the stove. 

You found yourself speechless yet again. He was too good to be true and that wasn't helping your case in any way. 

After finishing drying your hair you brought out the food you got from the restaurant earlier and put it in the microwave to reheat while Yoongi turned the lounge chairs to face each other and unlocked the dining table that was attached to the side of the motorhome. 

The rain was still falling relentlessly making the field you parked a muddy puddle. You watched as the rain drops trickled down the window shield, on the front glass leaving trails of water drops behind it only to be joined by the coming water droplets. 

After eating you suddenly fell the urge to sleep– after such a long straining journey that's what you probably needed. 

You looked over at Yoongi after washing your hand who was putting the dishes in the sink to wash them. 

You immediately grabbed his shoulders and said, "Let me do this at least. You should get some rest!" 

"It's fine! I'll do it." He protested but to no avail. You had already grabbed the gloves. 

"I said I'll do it." You smiled as if giving him a warning, to which he replied suppressing his smile, "okay! Suit yourself." 

While you did the dishes he brought out the Murphy bed that was attached to the wall by the side of the lounge chairs. 

By the time he was done setting the bed you had finished cleaning the dishes. So you sat on one side of the comfortably. 

Closing all the doors and windows of the motorhome Yoongi turned on the air conditioning system and climbed on the bed. 

He laid down after switching off the lights and pulled over the thin sheet over him and said in a tired voice, "Get some sleep while you can. We have a long way to go." 

to be continued...

— © 2022 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.

[silentexplorer18]

Pen & Ink Soulmates: A Kakashi Hatake Fic

Summary: A partner, they said. Someone compatible with you, they said. Lies. Or the story in which you sneakily convince Kakashi that soulmates aren't all that bad.

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Female Reader

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Writing on skin, Minor Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Abduction, Minor Injuries, Serious Injuries, Hospitals, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Word Count: 12,100+

Note: For clarity, this fic occurs over a relatively large chunk of time, but it might make more sense to pretend Kakashi joins the ANBU in later teenage years (though we could pretend two high-level Jonin could talk with such maturity at age 13 if we wanted to!). Basically, I didn’t stress a timeline too much, but I hope you still enjoy it as much as I do! :)

Read on AO3 ▪ Masterlist

Hi, soulmate!

Soulmate?

Are you getting my messages?

Let me know if you want to talk.

Can you see the moon where you are?

I found the prettiest flowers today at the market. I wish I could draw you a picture of them.

Do you like flowers? I have a hard time picking a favorite.

You’d been trying. The whole connecting with your soulmate thing was supposed to be exciting and invigorating, but so far it had only left you with the bitter taste of defeat.

A partner, they said. Someone compatible with you, they said.

Lies.

Apparently whoever was supposed to be on the other end of your soul connection didn’t care about the messages you sent. They weren’t as eager to speak with you as you were to speak with them. At least, that’s what you told yourself. The alternative was much, much worse; a fate you weren’t willing to consider.

You had a soulmate. They just weren’t ready to talk yet.

So, you threw yourself into training. Every swift movement and taunt muscle, every hit target and victorious sparring session, all the work left you feeling strong and powerful. When your soulmate met you, maybe they’d regret taking so long when they saw how hard you’d been working, how skilled you’d become.

Thankfully, you had a sparring partner that liked to keep you on your toes. Kakashi had been training with you for about as long as you could remember; he was your closest friend and greatest ally as you worked to become a talented shinobi. Of all the people in the village, he facilitated and supported your growth more than anyone. You could rely on him for almost anything (except for being on time).

But there was one problem.

Kakashi didn’t like talking about soulmates. You couldn’t blame him. Deep emotional connections wasn’t a topic he wanted to dwell on, not after everything that had happened throughout his still-young lifetime. So you kept the conversation civil, even as your heart desperately yearned to talk to someone about your sudden fear of being alone, your deep, unrestrained terror that there was no partner to your soul, no body to receive the messages you delicately penned on the skin under your wrapped arms.

But apparently there was.

You learned that roughly a year later, after many failed attempts and more destroyed pens than you cared to admit.

The amount of times you’d tried to contact your soulmate had dwindled, both due to the lack of response and the influx in your shinobi duties. Regardless, you still took the time to try every once in a while.

Usually, your messages were sweet or silly. A few times, you’d merely asked if anyone was receiving your carefully written words, begging to know there was someone out there for you.

But every sensible person reaches their breaking point. And evidently both you and your soulmate broke in very different ways on the same day.

Good evening, soulmate. I didn’t do much today, but I can give you a run-down if you’d like.

It was a game you’d started a few months into your attempts at contact. Pretending someone was there was much, much easier than thinking about any alternative. So you tried your best to leave messages despite how much it hurt.

Staring at your wrist, you considered the scribble of the letters, the handwriting you only tried to make semi-nice now. That was your soulmate’s fault; you were past the point of a perfect first impression. But what to write today? What could entertain your soulmate, maybe even draw them out? You weren’t sure.

When the first inky letter swirled across your skin, your heart leapt into your throat, and your pen dropped from your hand. Your thoughts of what to write were quickly forgotten. There was someone. There was someone! There was someone waiting for you!

You leaned forward, hand clamped around your wrist to keep it steady as the words appeared on your skin.

You’re putting us both in danger. Stop writing to me.

Well, that certainly wasn’t what you expected.

After all the waiting, after all the time, that’s what your soulmate was willing to give you? Your jaw clenched, hand releasing your wrist so you wouldn’t inadvertently snap it. What a jerk.

How dare your soulmate assume you were incapable! How dare your soulmate treat you like nothing more than a hindrance! How dare your soulmate act like you were some worthless flower that would be trampled over by a single breeze!

You clicked your pen, hand pressing just a skosh too hard into your skin as you carved a message back to whoever that jerk was.

I can take care of myself.

The reply came a few minutes later.

Good. I don’t want you in my life. Leave me alone.

Oh.

Years of waiting for a soulmate, and the one to finally show up didn’t want anything to do with you? Great, just great.

You closed your eyes, hands shaking as you drew your knees closer to your body. Alone. You were alone. No matter who was destined to be by your side, nobody would be there. The tears burned in your eyes, but you tried to keep from shedding them. You were a shinobi. You were strong. You were… alone.

No, no you weren’t. You still had Kakashi and Kurenai. You had Asuma when he bothered to chat with you. You weren’t totally alone. You had people in your life to keep you company. Hell, you were even supposed to meet Kakashi for breakfast tomorrow!

You went over your list of friends in your head, desperately trying to drown out the nagging voice in the back of your mind whispering that the person who mattered most would never want you.

~

Kakashi was late to breakfast the next morning. Even later than usual. You idly wondered if he’d been called on an emergency mission while trying to keep your thin soup down.

The events of the night before rested at the forefront of your mind, making your stomach queasy with the memory of the harsh words.

Your soulmate had washed them off your arm by morning, but the message had already been branded in your mind. There would be no forgetting.

When Kakashi finally deigned to arrive, he looked much worse than usual. It was hardly perceptible to the untrained eye, but you knew something was wrong after so many years of friendship with Kakashi. He was even quieter than he usually was, picking at the cold soup you’d ordered for him.

It had been spur of the moment to order for the both of you, a decision brought on by being too wrapped up in your own thoughts. However, Kakashi didn’t comment on your unusual gesture.

For once, something went your way.

After your relatively brief and quiet meal, you offered to walk with Kakashi to the Hokage Tower, desperately craving the fresh air. He accepted your offer with a half-hearted nod, and you fell into step alongside him, trying to keep up with his impossibly lanky figure.

“You’ve been going to the Hokage Tower a lot lately. Is everything alright?”

Hummed, the sound still gravely from failing to use his voice all morning. “They’re pushing me up to the ANBU.”

You froze. The ANBU? One of the most elite and dangerous positions that a Leaf shinobi could accept? Your best friend—the talent, the protector, the lost child inside willing to throw his life away for the sake of his home, for the people who had left without him—an ANBU?

Kakashi stopped a few paces in front of you, casting a distasteful look over his shoulder at your expression.

“I can handle it. Stop fussing.”

With quick steps, you joined his side again, clenching your fist in embarrassment. “I’m not fussing. I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

“We die young as shinobi,” he murmured, continuing his walk toward the tower in the distance. Suddenly, the structure appeared to be looming rather than protecting, and a chill crawled along your spine.

Of course shinobi died young. All bodies gave out eventually, and shinobi would fight until that occurred, regardless of whether or not it was to their detriment (it almost always was). But Kakashi was the most talented shinobi you’d ever encountered. He wouldn’t die young, you hoped. He had so much left to live for, even if he couldn’t see it through the haze of his own pain and guilt.

The remaining walk to the Hokage tower was silent. And afterwards, you took flowers to the memorial stone. You prayed for the dead. And just this once, you begged them to look out for the living, too.

~

The day Kakashi joined the ANBU, you knew. The matching tattoo colored your bicep in sweeping increments, a sharp red rattling your heart within your chest. The reality of your situation washed over you like the worst kind of genjutsu.

Your best friend was your soulmate. And he didn’t want you.

The realization left you shell shocked for a few days, unable to even speak or look at Kakashi. Even without the contact, your mind couldn’t escape from him. However, you eventually managed to safeguard your heart as best as you could. You wouldn’t tell him yet; something within you couldn’t handle that risk of rejection, especially when it would come from Kakashi. But you weren’t willing to throw away the lifetime of friendship the two of you shared. So you put on a smile and met Kakashi at his favorite restaurant, just like usual.

“You haven’t been here for a few days,” he noted as you sat down, watching you intently. “Everything alright?”

You shrugged, fingers trailing down the side of your glass. “Yeah, just wasn’t feeling up to anything.”

It was a partial lie, one Kakashi could easily prod into if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He let you be. And you relished in the way the conversation eventually grew normal between the two of you, right up until he rose from the table, leaving you to pay the bill.

Everything was normal. But you cried again that night anyway.

~

Life fell back into the usual pattern after that. There were times that you could almost pretend the weight on your shoulders wasn’t there. Kakashi was away on more missions with the ANBU, so you were able to bury your head in your training and missions and pretend nothing was wrong. At least, you could pretend until a pen caught your eye.

The words on your skin had been so brutal, and you hoped they were just because of the pain Kakashi had endured. You hoped it came from a place of love rather than hatred; perhaps Kakashi’s intention was protection rather than cold-hearted rejection.

At least, that’s what you thought until you found Kakashi sparring with Gai.

You tried your hardest not to invade their privacy, not to listen to words that weren’t meant for your ears, like the good friend you were, but Kakashi’s voice was too sharp, too defensive, to not draw your attention.

“—but it’s a waste of time, Gai. Soulmates are unnecessary. Especially for people like us.”

“You’re hiding from your future, Kakashi. Wasting all your youthful days that you could be spending with the one who will love you as much as life itself!”

Another failed attack. The clang of clashing kunai.

“A soulmate could only be a liability to me. You know what kind of missions I’m being sent on.”

“They’re your soulmate, Kakashi. Soulmates are built to work together. They fill the cracks like the best kind of glue!”

Kakashi scoffed. There was another clang, the gentle zip of shuriken on the breeze.

“I’d never love them anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“You’d say something so cruel—”

You turned away, unable to listen anymore. The pain pooled heavy in your gut. The message he’d written hadn’t been a reflexive, angry reaction. His beliefs were set in stone. He didn’t want you.

So, you held your chin up, resigned yourself to eternal loneliness, and pretended the whole soulmate dilemma didn’t exist.

If being Kakashi’s friend was the closest you could get, then you’d ignore the sting in your chest when you looked at him. You’d be his friend. Nothing more.

~

Your resolve lasted a few weeks.

There was whispering. There had always been whispering, but this day was much worse than usual. He’d been mocked, insulted, shamed. Openly. And aside from Gai, nobody had said a word otherwise. You couldn’t stand it, watching him mask the pain as much as he masked his own features. His feigned nonchalance couldn’t fool your perceptive eyes. You’d been watching too closely; you knew him too well.

Curled at your desk that night, you wrote a message on your wrist, scared of talking to him again but unable to leave him alone.

You’re a good person.

Hours passed before you received a response. It was curt, defensive, everything Kakashi carried to protect himself. You don’t know me.

But you did.

Although it was difficult to sleep, you tried your best not to toss and turn too much as you brooded over your feelings. Was it worth saying more? Was it worth risking the hurt, the rejection?

In the morning, you’d made your decision, especially after noticing his words had already been rinsed off your wrist.

Cleaning your own wrist, you wrote the message in your head a thousand times over, only hoping the words wouldn’t hurt you so much when they reached his skin.

You're a good person, Kakashi Hatake. I won't let you tell me otherwise.

~

Kakashi met you for lunch just like usual. You wouldn’t have found anything odd about the meeting, but he showed up on time. Apparently your message had rattled him enough to throw him completely off his rhythm.

Rather than comment on his early appearance, you just smiled as he sat down, choosing to dig into your meal. Kakashi followed suit, pulling out a book while he waited for his bowl.

Silence settled between you, and you let it. After all, you were trying to make the situation appear normal. The last thing you wanted was for him to figure out you were in on the secret that was bothering him. So, the two of you ate. You sipped your tea, glancing out at the people passing on the street until Kakashi finally broke the silence.

“My soulmate knows who I am,” he murmured, setting down his raman bowl.

You plastered on a smile, knowing you had to fake congratulations, had to fake knowing that he had, in fact, zero intentions of finding his soulmate.

“That’s so exciting, Kakashi! I’m glad you’ve finally found yours!”

He laughed dryly, scratching his neck. “It’s not quite like that.”

You tried to neutralize the way your expression dropped. Either Kakashi didn’t notice, nose stuck in his copy of Make Out Paradise, or he didn’t care. You bit your lip, brows furrowing before you could stop them. “How so?”

But you already knew the answer to that.

“I’m not talking to my soulmate,” he said curtly. “It’s not something that interests me.”

You shook your head, sighing softly. He’d never let anyone in, never let anyone close. Kakashi was too reserved for that, and you resigned yourself to the knowledge that he’d never care to change the fate he’d chosen for himself. For such a hopeless romantic, he had a terrible tendency to reject love.

“You’re so foolish, Kakashi,” you whispered, balancing the chopsticks on the rim of your bowl.

His eye snapped to your face. Though he appeared nonchalant, you could tell that he slightly bristled at your words. “You’re one to talk.”

“Mine won’t talk to me,” you pointed out sharply, eyes dropping to refold your napkin.

His expression softened minutely, but his tone stayed firm. “That isn’t what I meant. We’re shinobi, (Y/n). Love in our line of duty is fatal.”

Pursing your lips, you caught his eye again before dropping his stare. “Perhaps,” you murmured, knuckles straining in your lap. “But you can’t say it’s pleasant to live without love.”

He was silent for a moment as you both stared at anywhere but one another. Kakashi was ruminating under your words while you wallowed in the silent pain of listening to your soulmate openly deny your importance. It hurt, but you wouldn’t admit that, least of all not to his face.

Before he could speak again, Gai had clapped Kakashi on the shoulder, greeting him as warmly as ever.

You slipped out of the shop, enough money to cover both your meals pressed into the owner’s hand before either of the shinobi could realize you’d disappeared.

~

Although your conversation with Kakashi had stung deep within your chest, you appreciated the insights it gave you.

Kakashi Hatake was aware his soulmate knew his name. And he was terrified.

The fact that he’d brought it up at all was enough to tell you how jarring the event had been for him. That, and the way he responded at the mere notion of knowing his soulmate. He was like a cornered cat lashing his claws out in terror. He didn’t mean to hurt anyone, not his soulmate, not you. But in his desperation to protect himself, reinforce the walls he’d so meticulously crafted to fortify his aching heart, Kakashi Hatake was willing to scratch.

However, you weren’t willing to let it go that easily.

He was scared of having someone care for him. You were willing to start small in the hopes of changing that.

Along the curve of your inner wrist, you swirled the letters that would become the first of many.

Stay safe on your mission.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

~

Today is supposed to be cold. Wear an extra mask.

He didn’t. Worse yet, he chose to do the opposite. Although it was hard to tell, you knew his mask and undershirt were the spring/summer fabrics rather than the fall/winter ones.

The bastard was spiting you. Well, spiting his soulmate. So, unwittingly spiting you.

It was still irksome.

As the two of you wandered around the village, helped the farmers, and even took a leisurely stroll around the village perimeter “just in case,” you relished in the way Kakashi moved. It was obvious he was cold, regretting his unnecessary fashion stance.

But you couldn’t stand to see him cold.

He looked close to dropping to the ground for a rapid succession of push-ups just to rekindle some warmth. As smug as you were about watching him suffer, you weren't willing to let him perform a Gai for a small semblance of relief.

Swiftly, you unlooped your scarf, draping it around his neck unceremoniously. It wasn’t much, but the fabric was warm, and it would certainly help a little.

If only you knew how happy the gesture made him.

As the two of you walked back to the heart of the village, Kakashi walked a little closer to you than normal. And, for some reason, you didn’t really mind.

~

When Kakashi didn’t show up to lunch the following week, you weren’t surprised. You’d only just returned from a mission, and word of Kakashi’s travels had already graced your ears. He was heading to the Village Hidden in the Sand. For what, you weren’t sure. Some missions were still classified even for you.

Despite knowing how skilled Kakashi was, you still worried about him traveling alone through the desert.

The click of your pen hurt a little less when you clicked it now. It helped to know who your soulmate was. It helped to feel like he cared about you still, even when he so clearly loathed his soulmate.

Remember to drink some water today.

A few hours later, you were surprised to see a response scribbled across your inner wrist.

Yes.

Just one word but finally a positive one.

~

Rest when you can.

Kakashi stared at the words delicately placed on his wrist. His mission had taken longer than expected, and he was beginning to think his soulmate knew that.

Whoever they were, they must have been a shinobi like him. A high-ranking one, too, for them to determine the length of time he was supposed to be away for.

He’d been receiving one message per day. At first, it irritated him to no end. But now, he didn’t hate it quite so much, even if he often didn’t bother to reply. The messages were always harmless. Sometimes they were funny. Sometimes they were giving him advice, a little reminder meant—he assumed—to help him through the day.

While the sender certainly had the best intentions when sending the note, the message still left him irked. He was alone for this mission, and the sleeplessness and general strains of traveling had started to take a toll on him.

Only a day’s journey left until he could return home and try to shake the sand out of every nook and cranny of his backpack. Only a day’s journey left until he could sleep in a bed. Only a day’s journey left until he could go to dinner with the others. Just. One. More. Day.

He could make it. He had to.

~

Kakashi had been injured again.

The news swept through the village like a wildfire, and you showed up with two Make Out novels and a bowl of raman, nearly being knocked over by Gai’s comically large bouquet in the process.

Kakashi accepted Gai’s flowers with moderate amounts of grumbling and a few lackluster attempts to get him to leave. Eventually, he did, and it was just the two of you.

You filled the vase at his bedside with water, delicately stuffing as many of the stems as you possibly could inside the glass.

Kakashi watched you move around him, cherishing the silence. At his bedside, you unclasped your bag, pulling out the blindingly colorful books and the container of Ichiraku raman. After making sure the utensils were settled and there was a napkin, you turned back to Kakashi, just missing the warm expression on his face.

“You should rest,” you encouraged gently, “and eat up.”

His eye squinted playfully. “You fuss too much.”

You smiled, smoothing a shuriken printed blanket over the starchy hospital ones. It was yours, but it still smelled faintly of dogs and Kakashi and spice. Hopefully it would stave off some of his nightmares, having something that smelled vaguely like home.

“I fuss just enough. Now, don’t stay up too late reading. Some rest will go a long way.”

“You fuss too—” He yelped as you pinched his toe through the blanket, slinging your bag back over your shoulder.

“You’re lucky you have me as a friend.”

Kakashi’s expression softened, mind racing toward how close he’d come to death yet again. “Yeah, I am.”

He relished in the way that simple statement delighted you, watching the way your expression lit up.

“Get some rest,” you encouraged again, turning to leave him in the bright, quiet room.

As per your request, he did.

~

Although he listened to your advice, it was only marginally. In true Kakashi fashion, he’d talked his way out of the hospital after a measly two days of treatment.

His body needed more time, but Kakashi was always one to push himself.

Since the Hokage stalled sending him on another mission, something he both hated and appreciated, he occupied the following days in his normal rhythm. He trained privately, visited the memorial stone, and wandered the village nose-deep in supposedly trashy romance.

You’d caught him wandering around a few times, and even saw him lightly competing in a challenge against Gai.

The sight made your blood boil even though you knew it was Kakashi being Kakashi.

He had no sense of self-preservation, which wasn’t particularly helpful when you—his soulmate—were watching from the sidelines.

Did he even care that he could leave you all alone? No, probably not, your mind taunted. Kakashi didn’t care about soulmates; you knew that.

If only you could convince your heart not to care.

That afternoon, you let the letters curl across your wrist as you watched him do another training exercise with Gai, looking faintly more fatigued than normal.

Give yourself time to recover.

If he found your message, he didn’t care to respond.

~

Kakashi would visit the memorial stone in the morning; you knew how his routine worked.

He felt it fitting to visit them as often as he could, an apology for living the life they all should have lived.

You couldn’t blame him. You visited the stone often, too.

But you couldn’t today, not while you were traveling to the Village Hidden in the Sand with a scroll. So, you asked for a favor, scribbling on your wrist: Pray for mine, too, please.

He was starting to grow accustomed to your messages. A small part of you wondered if he kept an eye out for them. But that was silly. You were thinking about Kakashi. He probably was just reading his book when the words appeared, his wrist already in his line of sight.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But it still didn’t dispel your excitement when the answer scribbled across your skin a few minutes later.

Sure.

~

He’d been taking on so many missions lately, wearing himself to the bone just to be a good shinobi. A part of you wondered if he was trying to avoid thinking about anything other than his shinobi world. That hunch didn’t stop you from worrying.

Soulmate or not, Kakashi’s actions would have worried you. He looked exhausted as he shuffled through his laundry. You’d brought him takeout from his favorite restaurant to hopefully get something other than rations in his stomach before he left on his next mission.

Who knew how long it would be before he drug himself in, requested another trip, and raced off to somewhere new. You would’ve thought he was avoiding you if it weren’t for the obvious delight in his eyes when you caught up with him outside Hokage Tower.

But there was a reason he was working himself to exhaustion. Possibly long-dead memories brought back to life that he couldn’t stand thinking about. You didn’t even want to know; you just wanted him to be okay.

A week later, you saw him walking through the village gates yet again. Back again. Planning to leave again. It was always the same, just relentlessly overkill at present. He was taking on too much, and one day he would slip up and regret it. You didn’t want that.

So you stayed behind the kiosk you’d been perusing, fingers untangling the wraps around your hand. It was a simple message, but you hoped it would help snap his mind out of whatever hole he’d buried it in.

Please don’t overwork yourself.

He didn’t respond. Not a word graced your hopeful skin.

But Kakashi caught you outside one of the stores in town and asked if you wanted to meet up for dinner that night. He would be around for a while, he said, but he was too tired to cook.

Despite trying to hold on to your resolve, a small part of you couldn’t help but hope he was staying because you asked him to. It was probably wishful thinking, but you were grateful for whatever force made him stay nonetheless.

~

I believe in you.

Kakashi scoffed at the message on his arm, printed in the spot where his glove met his sleeve.

He found it after a competition with Gai. Hardly anything worth fussing over, but his soulmate had still sent him encouraging words.

Had they been watching? Had they seen the fun (though he’d never admit it) that he and Gai had been having? Had they wanted to join in?

For a long time, he’d been able to avoid thinking about his soulmate altogether. Now, though, they’d found a way to weasel into his mind with the words swirling over his skin.

He wasn’t willing to consider whether or not he enjoyed it.

~

I worry when you’re reckless.

The message shouldn’t have stung Kakashi’s heart, but somehow it did. His soulmate was watching and worrying, hearing the stories about his travels. Whoever they were, they must have been a shinobi, too.

Were they okay with forsaking love in the name of war? Could they abandon emotions for the sake of duty? Maybe. His soulmate had never directly asked to be anything more than penpals, though even that notion was quite one-sided.

But the message on his wrist betrayed his soulmate’s strength. They worried about him. They listened for the stories and understood when something went wrong.

Kakashi couldn’t help but wonder if they were reckless, too.

If he never took the chance to know them, would he care if they threw their life away as often as he’d tried to? He wasn’t sure.

~

The next Make Out novel comes out today. I reserved you a copy at the Northern bookstore. It’s less crowded.

Kakashi didn’t understand why his soulmate was being so nice to him. Not after his harsh words at the beginning, not after his sparse replies and general lack of interest. But whoever they were, they were trying, and he had to admire that.

At first, he was surprised his soulmate was not only fine with him reading erotic novels in public but also encouraging it. But, then again, his soulmate was meant to be compatible with him, right?

There would be butting heads, of course. All soulmates lost the honeymoon stage eventually. But this seemed deeper, warmer. His favorite book in a quiet shop on his day off. It was kindness. And it felt both strange and wonderful.

He vaguely regretted not doing anything for his soulmate. Though, maybe they were okay with that. Maybe they enjoyed being alone, just like he did.

Maybe if he kept lying to himself, he’d continue to enjoy it.

But crouched in a tree a few hours later, he couldn’t shake the gratitude deep in his chest. The novel was amazing. And he wouldn’t have been able to get his hands on it if it weren’t for his soulmate’s generosity.

Two words.

Thank you.

~

Kakashi had arrived home from another long mission. Although unscathed, his clothes were a mess. Dirt and mud clung to his legs, dried blood was smattered across his upper body, and a few rogue twigs and leaves stuck to him in strange places. He needed a shower. Desperately.

But something within Kakashi was restless, and he chose to wander around the village absently.

Something must have happened for him to look so dazed and unattached, but you tried to avoid asking anything direct in public.

Instead, you hopped beside him, catching his arm with the tips of your fingertips. He hummed in response.

“You just got back, right, Kakashi?”

He hummed again. “Yep.”

“Have you bought groceries?”

“No... Why?”

“A bunch of us are going to dinner tonight. You should come. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

He inspected you for a long moment, and you could tell what he was thinking. The laugh bubbled in your throat before you could help yourself. “It’s Iruka’s turn to take Gai home, don’t worry.”

He stared for a moment longer before nodding slowly. “Okay.” Another small, dazed nod. “I’ll come.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as you told him the establishment and the time. That alone made Kakashi’s mood improve, though he’d never admit that aloud.

An hour later, though, he was still wandering around the city absentmindedly. So you figured his soulmate could take matters into their own hands.

Blood in your hair? Isn’t that a bit macabre?

He replied an hour later.

No.

But the next time you saw him, he was dressed in a new uniform. Not a single pristinely white hair was out of place.

If it hadn’t been for Anko talking your ear off about her last mission, you almost could’ve imagined that you and Kakashi were on a date.

It was the closest you would get, a clean vest and all.

But when Asuma blew a puff of smoke and Kakashi glared disdainfully from across the table, any hopes of romance slipped through your fingers.

You were friends. Close friends.

And you refocused on Anko’s story in the hopes of forgetting the state of your friendship with Kakashi for the span of a few minutes.

Every little glance he sent your way certainly didn’t help.

Nor did the way he offered you the last bite of his cake as a thanks for paying for his meal yet again.

Damn, you were in deep.

~

Be safe on your mission.

His reply came a few minutes later.

Yep.

Although it wasn’t much, the gesture made you smile. It seemed almost like he was waiting for your message, like he’d been checking as he and his companions wandered down the road.

You told yourself it was wishful thinking, but the word scribbled on your wrist in his handwriting warmed your heart all the same.

~

You’d forgotten. The mission had been too complex, your mind too preoccupied. You’d forgotten to write to Kakashi.

A part of you distantly wondered if he cared, if he even thought about your messages.

He’d started to reply on occasion. It was never more than a quickly scrawled, single word response, but it was still better than the total isolation he’d given you before.

You couldn’t say it was great, or that the two of you talked as soulmates. But it was relatively amicable. And that was a much better foot to get off on than the first time he’d responded to the words you’d scribbled words across your arms.

Things were okay.

And although you had a few scrapes and scratches from your mission, that had gone okay, too.

When your team settled in a clearing for the night, tent built and fire glowing, you drifted off, too exhausted to think of sending a scrabbled love message to Kakashi.

But he hadn’t forgotten about you.

Although you assumed he wasn’t paying attention, Kakashi was one of the best ninja in the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He paid attention to everything, despite his usual nonchalance.

He noticed immediately that his soulmate hadn’t written to him.

After weeks of at least one little message per day.

And he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was terrified. Had something happened to you? Were you injured? Could it be worse?

The idea of soulmates may have left him feeling disgruntled, but your messages had burrowed a home in his heart.

He wasn’t ready to give you or your messages up yet.

So for the first time in a long time, he wrote a real message.

You’re late. Doing okay?

As you watched over the dying flames several hours later, an early morning guard for your teammates, you stared at his words, tracing a finger over the scraggly characters.

Late.

You knew he wasn’t talking about your mission because the four of you weren’t due back for another two days. He didn’t know your identity. That only left the messages…

Was he treating this as a check-in?

You rolled your eyes, chuckling. Leave it to Kakashi to care more than he let on.

Got lost on the path of life. You?

Kakashi stared at your message. He’d been perusing his favorite bookstore for spare copies of the Make Out series’ novels, sleeve suspiciously cuffed and waiting for a reply, when the words had swirled across his skin.

And he laughed. Warmly and purely. Because you’d stolen his line.

You knew him. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing if you would continue to make him laugh so openly.

Surprised with himself, he clicked his pen, words scribbling across his skin before he had the chance to doubt himself.

Glad you’re alive.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. An admission that he wasn’t as dismayed by the soulmate thing as he let on. And you arrived home from your mission absolutely beaming.

~

You were able to catch Kakashi for lunch before heading off on your next mission with Kurenai. The food was filling, and the conversation was nice. Funnily enough, he was supposed to leave for a mission with Gai the next day. No rest for the shinobi apparently.

Kakashi waved at you as you walked away, and you smiled to yourself. Even if you didn’t have your soulmate by your side, at least you still had some connection to Kakashi. Being by his side was worth the dull ache it left in your heart.

But you would be without it for the next few days. Although you and Kurenai were leaving for no more than two days, Kakashi and Gai would probably be gone most of the week. Part of you hated when Kakashi was away, but part of you enjoyed getting to write to him more often. When he was away, you could be a little less secretive as you scribbled down messages throughout your day in the village.

But, for the time being, you’d focus on the mission at hand.

It was a standard case of bandits in the woods. At least, that was what the scroll had described the mission as. However, as you and Kurenai crept through the dense forest, something felt off.

No matter how far the two of you traveled, the quiet whisper of wind in the leaves greeted you. Despite your speed and silence, you couldn’t sense any animals or hear anything suspicious. Bandits would have left campsites or trash or, hell, even footsteps. But nothing greeted your senses, not even traces of animals. These weren’t ordinary bandits.

Your suspicions were confirmed when eight people jumped from the brush, attacking with a swiftness you hadn’t anticipated. Their presences had been completely concealed.

Kurenai lept to your left, and you lept to the right, sending three shuriken through the air to hit the nearest attacker. While your attack worked slightly, you immediately had to jump again, barely catching Kurenai rushing off through the trees.

This was the failsafe plan; if you got caught, you’d separate far enough that you couldn’t catch one another in the crossfire of your attacks.

But you were outmatched. Whoever these “bandits” were, they were extremely skilled in capturing and securing enemies. One moment, you were wielding a fire jutsu. The next moment, your vision had gone dark.

~

Capture wasn’t the only thing the bandits appeared to be skilled in. Upon waking, you’d been tied to a chair with restraints stronger than you could break. The room was dark, probably somewhere underground, and you realized you had no idea how long you’d been unconscious. Was Kurenai okay? Had she been captured, too? What did these people want with you?

None of that mattered, not when the first blow had landed across your exposed side. Whatever these people wanted, you wouldn’t give it. So, you took a deep breath, clenched your teeth, and shut out the world. Your village was valuable to you. The people there mattered to you. And you’d follow your training to the letter, or you’d die trying.

~

Whether it had been hours or days of torture, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that everything hurt, and your vision was starting to go blurry. Despite that, you hadn’t relented. No matter what they threw at your body, no matter what manipulation they tried to play with your mind, you wouldn’t budge.

At the end, at least you’d make the Village Hidden in the Leaves proud.

But there was something that was missing, something you wanted to do before you died, even if it was just selfish, even if it was just a foolish whispering of your heart. You wanted to be buried somewhere your friends could visit. You wanted everyone to know about your end, to know what had happened, to never worry that you were out there somewhere.

You wanted Kakashi to find peace in your death, not guilt.

So there was a secret you had to spill.

You slid the pen from your pocket, clicking it open as you stared at your arm. Slowly, you undid the bandages, greeted once again by blank skin. Swirling the pen across your forearm, you wrote the rough coordinates of your capture on your arm. It wasn’t exact, but hopefully it would be good enough. Then, you wrote the words “urgent note” on your fingertips and wrist, hoping that would encourage him to look. Below the coordinates, you wrote: Abducted by enemies. Not relenting to torture. Getting weak. Send help if possible. Or someone to collect my body. Look at leg later. —(Y/n).

Carefully, you rewrapped your arm, moving to roll your pant leg up. Your hands were shaking, and it was hard to hold the pen, but you had to write to him.

They said the end is coming, and I'm starting to believe them. It hurts a lot. So I'm writing to you. I know you didn't want to deal with the whole soulmate thing, but I couldn't stay away. You were just too wonderful to not stand beside. I'm sorry I didn't leave you be, didn't respect your wishes. But I wanted to be a part of your life. I'm being selfish by writing to you now, but you're the one person I've always been selfish with, so I'm not going to stop at the very end. Please don’t be upset with yourself if I don’t make it.

Your eyes were watering now, vision slightly blurry. Had they drugged you, too? Or was it just the injuries?

I just want you to remember that you’re loved. That I love you. That you deserve to be loved. Please don’t forget that when I’m gone.

Whatever else you wanted to write would not be written. Quietly, the pen clattered out of your hand, and your head slumped forward.

Time was up.

~

Your vision was blurry when your eyes finally blinked open. You were cold, but the ache in your muscles was a reassurance that you were very much alive. Alive and in a hospital, it seemed.

There was a crinkle beside your bed, and you looked up to see Kakashi thumbing through his book.

What had… You blinked, trying to recall exactly what had happened.

There was a mission… you’d been on a mission with Kurenai… right. Then… and then... you were abducted. Yes, you could remember that now. And Kakashi… you remember thinking about Kakashi. Gosh, everything was so damn hazy. You shifted, wincing as you tried to sit up.

“Hey!” His voice was cheerful, and you blinked up at him in surprise at the warmness in his tone. “Good to see you waking up!”

How had he known you were at the hospital? Had Kurenai… Wait, no. No. Hazily, you could recall writing coordinates on your wrist. They weren’t precise, so someone must have looked for you. You couldn’t remember being found. Everything after the last interrogation was too hazy… too confusing. But Kakashi had known… maybe Kakashi had looked for you.

“You made it in time?”

He hummed, closing his book with a thump. “Pakkun found you. Once I knew what to look for, I could rely on his nose.”

You nodded groggily, reaching up to rub your eyes. The ink was still on your wrist, visible due to your unwrapped arms. You’d forgotten about—

“Kakashi, I’m so sorry about the message.” You turned to look at him, eyes wide and embarrassed. “If I knew everything would’ve been fine, then I wouldn’t have—”

His hand rose, and you stopped, heart hammering in your throat. This was it. This would be the rejection.

“I’m glad I had the opportunity to save you.”

Of course. Because he wouldn’t leave a comrade behind; that wasn’t like him.

But that wasn’t the message you were referring to.

If he wasn’t going to bring up the love message, then you wouldn’t, either. “I’m grateful,” you murmured, looking down to finally see the treatment your body had undergone. There were marks everywhere, which meant Kakashi was marked everywhere, too. Marks on the soulmate that didn’t want you…

“I appreciate you waiting,” you forced yourself to say. Maybe he’d get the message and leave you alone.

Instead, he met your awkward sidestep with bluntness. “I figured we should talk.”

Your head felt like it was spinning, and you had the slightest sensation that you were going to be in the hospital for quite a while. It would be embarrassing to be rejected here; it would be embarrassing to cry in front of the nurses.

“Not now,” you croaked, hand scrabbling to grab the invisible cup of water at the bedside. Water, sake, medicine, heck, even the flower water beside you. Anything to push the lump out of your throat. Anything to avoid thinking about Kakashi’s rejection.

You were eyeing up the vase next to you as Kakashi stood, long legs moving to fill a glass by the sink. He handed it to you, assuring your fingers were pressed around the cup before he moved away.

You sent him a grateful half-smile before you swallowed the water like a shot, desperate to drown yourself in something other than your own awkwardness.

“Feel better?”

No, you really didn’t. Your head was still spinning, stomach still queasy. Whether it was from your injuries or Kakashi’s pointed stare, you weren’t sure. “I don’t want to talk about it today. Everything—” you coughed, trying to release the tightness in your throat. “Everything hurts.”

He nodded, humming low in his throat. “I’ll go get a nurse, then.”

You nodded shakily, debating whether or not you could escape from the hospital before he came back. The ache in your side told you moving probably wasn’t the best idea.

“But before I do, I have one question.”

Your head snapped to where he stood by the door, wincing as you did so. “Yes?”

“How did you find out it was me?”

You stared at him for a minute, searching his impassive face. He was one of the best shinobi this village had ever seen, and he was still impossibly clueless sometimes. Slowly, you rolled up your sleeve, revealing a roll of gauze. It was blue, unlike the starchy white medical gauze on your sides. You could fiddle with it; the fabric belonged to you. With nimble fingers, you untied it, letting it pool below your elbow on the bed.

Kakashi stared openly at the ANBU tattoo, and you watched the pieces click into place. He hadn’t even considered what a tattoo would be like for his soulmate.

“I see,” he whispered, fingers unconsciously twitching toward his covered arm. After a moment, he shook himself from his thoughts, gaze again becoming impassive. “I’ll go get the nurses.”

“Kakashi?” you called, shocked as the words left your lips. You hadn’t meant to call out for him, not yet, anyway. But he was standing there staring like you’d held up a practice dummy, focus radiating from him in waves. You had to say something. “Thank you. For saving me… and waiting. And thank Pakkun, too?”

Kakashi’s expression softened. “I will. Now, get some rest. You look exhausted.”

Though, rest was the last thing you would come close to receiving as the doctors gave you a full evaluation. Poking, prodding, and asking questions took up most of the afternoon. Although you tried your best to focus and take in all the information you were given about your physical state, your mind continually strayed to Kakashi. Did he hate you now? Did he want you out of his life? Was he waiting for you or just waiting to ask about the whole soulmates thing? You wished you could quiet the questions swirling through your mind.

That evening, you found a message scribbled across the back of your hand. Although his handwriting was still messy, it was obvious he took his time. He wanted it to be legible.

Get well soon, (Y/n).

It was the first time your soulmate had written your name on his skin. He knew you now. There was no going back to the secretive messages and hidden assurances. Everything was out in the open; Kakashi knew exactly who you were. He knew everything.

That night, you wept.

You wept for the injuries that would bar you from upcoming missions. You wept for the bitter sense of death that had grazed your fingertips. You wept for the compassionate message on your hand. You wept for the fear of being alone again.

You wept for Kakashi and all that he meant to you.

~

Between the crying and the medical evaluations the day prior, you slept well past the time you’d typically rise. Consequently, it was well past the opening of visiting hours, too.

Kakashi arrived before you woke up and tucked himself into a corner with a book. However, he read very little. Instead, he watched the gradual rise and fall of your chest, comforted by the knowledge that you were still breathing.

When “urgent note” had appeared on his fingers, his heart had nearly stopped in his chest. When he read the message printed on his wrist, the sinking sensation had only grown. Fear consumed him more than it had ever consumed him before.

His head had spun with the realization that you were in danger, that you were his soulmate. Summoning his ninkin had happened in a blur. If he was being honest with himself, everything was a blur up until the moment he found you. That moment would live on in crystal clarity in his memory forever.

There are some moments in life too horrific to forget. Finding you unconscious on the floor of a dingy bunker, pen by your side, chest barely moving, would be one of those moments for Kakashi.

The only thing more reassuring than watching you breathe was watching your eyes blink open slowly and focus in on him. He could tell you were nervous about talking to him, and he knew why. The message still hastily scribbled on both of your thighs was more than an acknowledgement of the soulmate bond. It was an admission that you loved him, an admission that you believed in him, that you wanted to stay by his side.

It was also an admission that you believed he didn’t want to stay by your side.

He really needed to talk to you.

“Good morning,” he hummed, tucking his book back in his vest. Smiling, he moved to sit on the chair beside you, feeling it was appropriate now that you were awake. This close, he could smell the antiseptic on your skin, the overbearing flowery scent of the hospital lotion, and the faintest whiff of your shampoo still clinging to your hair despite the days it had been since your last shower.

“G’morning,” you mumbled, stretching lazily. Kakashi watched your movements, chuckling at the way you arched like a happy rabbit after a nap. It was cute and endearing, a movement Kakashi had gotten used to witnessing over the years.

Shifting the other direction, you winced, body instinctively jerking back into a ball. “Ow,” you grumbled, hand moving to put a little pressure on your side. With some effort, you managed to shift into a sitting position, still moving gingerly to somewhat satiate your aching limbs. “I thought I’d feel better today, but I guess not.”

Kakashi snorted dryly. “That’s a bit ambitious, don’t you think?”

You stopped rubbing your shoulder to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

What did he mean? Hadn’t the doctors told you? Surely they would have mentioned… Were you playing dumb or did you really not know? Kakashi stared at you for a moment, scrutinizing your confused expression, before his eyes dropped. He let out a breath, then another, trying to hide the pain blossoming in his chest.

He’d almost lost you.

“You were dying,” he said lowly, gaze fixated on his gloves. “By the time we got you back, we really thought you weren’t…” he shook his head, expression dark. “The medics thought you were already gone.”

It took a moment for you to respond. The doctors said your recovery was astronomical, that you’d been close to death, but the way Kakashi described it, so somber and broken, made the reality of the situation hit home.

You’d almost died. You’d almost lost everything you held dear.

You’d almost lost him.

Glancing back to Kakashi, you found him still lost deep within his thoughts. His expression was dark, fist clenched over his thigh, over what was intended to be your last message to him.

Carefully, you reached out and bushed a hand over his clenched fist. The action drew his attention back to you. “It wasn’t your fault,” you gently offered, stroking the back of his hand once more before pulling away. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that, but it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”

He huffed, scooting backward in his chair. “I should have got to you sooner! Protected you! If I’d asked, you could have sent me updates. I could have prevented you from getting hurt—”

“Will you stop with the narcissism!” you chided, wincing as you swung your feet over the edge of the bed.

He met your gaze, lone eye blinking once in surprise.

“I took the mission. I accepted the consequences of it. I knew what an infiltration would be like. I knew the chances of getting ambushed. You didn’t endanger me, Kakashi. You weren’t even supposed to be on that mission.” Your voice faded, soft and overwhelmed. “But you saved me anyway.” You ran your thumb under your eyes, catching the tears before they had a chance to fall. “So claim that. Stop… I need you to stop only claiming your failures.”

He clenched his fist, unclenched it, and nodded once. For the first time in a long time, you couldn’t read Kakashi’s body language at all. What was he feeling?

Part of you wanted to reach out and comfort him, but you didn’t. He’d made space between you for a reason. And as upsetting as it was, you were willing to honor that.

After a few minutes of silence, you plucked one of the flowers from the vase beside your bed. “Did Kurenai bring me the flowers?” You smiled, brushing a finger against the petals. “She accidentally picked my favorites.”

When you looked back up, Kakashi was staring at you again, cheek barely pinking over the edge of his mask.

He could read erotic novels in public, but you made him blush.

“Actually, I brought them.”

Freezing, you stared at him in surprise. “You did? How did you—?”

He flushed again, eyes fixing on the flowers rather than your face. “You buy pots of those every spring, but they always die because you’re out on missions. And you take daisies to the memorial stone a few times a month. You leave iris for your parents, and you bring peonies and cookies for the ANBU guards when you have meetings with the Hokage. And on the second Sunday of every month you’re both in town, you hide 100 tulips around the village for Gai to find.” When his eyes snapped back to yours, your shocked expression made him grow self conscious, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ve, uh, been paying attention.”

“Why?”

He gestured to the room, pretending to misinterpret your question. “It’s so dull in here. I thought a little decorating wouldn’t hurt.”

You snorted at that, impossibly undignified but oh so delightful.

Of course Kakashi would stall now that he was here.

But… no. He was usually blunt when it came to bad news. So why was he stumbling through the conversation like he’d never spoken to you a day in his life?

Your face shot back to him at the realization, and he arched a brow under your scrutiny. Could he like you? Could you have a chance?

“Everything okay?” he asked gently, tone much more serious than before.

You’d worried him.

Before you could respond, Gai burst into the room with the second largest bouquet you’d ever seen in your life.

“(Y/n)! I heard Kakashi was with you, so I figured I’d bring you some flowers on my way to challenge Kakashi to a shuriken throwing challenge!” He set the flowers—which balanced precariously due to their immense size—on your bedside table, giving you a dazzling smile and a thumbs up.

Kakashi sighed, “Well, Gai, I was just here talking to her—”

What if you had been interpreting Kakashi’s expressions all wrong? What if he didn’t like you? What if this was all his way of trying to stay friends? Although you hoped for something else, the fear of rejection clawed at your throat like a Shadow Strangle Jutsu. This was your chance. The chance to get out of Kakashi’s rejection. Gai was the perfect opportunity.

“You should go!” You chirped, smiling at them both.

“I… what?”

“That’s the spirit, (Y/n)! It would be a shame for Kakashi to waste his precious youth not enhancing his physical prowess!” Gai dropped to his hands, beginning to do push-ups on the floor of your room.

Ignoring the incredulous look Kakashi sent your way, you wriggled your fingers at his bag. “What volume are you on? I need something to entertain me while you lavish in your youth.”

Kakashi scoffed at your statement before fishing the Make Out Violence novel from his pouch. He dangled it in front of your face. “Is this what you’re after?”

You grinned, snatching the book from his hands. “This just so happens to be the volume I’ve been waiting for.”

Kakashi blinked in surprise, feeling his face grow warm again. “You read Make Out Paradise?”

You smiled sheepishly under his gaze, fingers tracing over the edge of the cover. “Really, it’s all your fault. It was so boring waiting in line to reserve that new edition for you. I needed something to do.”

Because that gift from his soulmate, that gift had been from you.

“And now you’re moving on to book two?”

Embarrassed but pleased, you grinned up at him. “I may have figured out why you’re so hooked on them.”

Kakashi laughed. Just a short huff, but still. Could you get any more perfect?

He was about to respond again when Gai grabbed his shoulder, already taking his ear off as he dragged Kakashi out the door.

You settled in with your—Kakashi’s— book, pleased for the reprieve but missing him all the same.

~

Delving into Make Out Violence was both a blessing and a curse. You lost track of time as you devoured the pages, and the story was so riveting that you barely thought about Kakashi. Though, every time you took a break, love—that sickening concept you didn’t even want to consider in reality—was at the forefront of your mind. So you dove into the novel again with renewed fervor, completely unaware that Kakashi had hopped through the open window. That is, until a warm voice interrupted your reading.

“Having fun?”

In surprise, you snapped the book shut, embarrassment washing over your expression. “A bit. How was the competition with Gai?”

Kakashi shrugged, dragging the chair he’d occupied that morning so he could sit directly beside your bed. “It was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary for Gai.”

“Thanks for the book,” you murmured, passing it back to him. “Maybe I can borrow another one of your copies again sometime.”

He took the novel, setting it down on the bed beside you, only to take your hand in his.

His hands were warm even through the gloves, and his fingertips traced over your skin delicately, as though afraid his touch would somehow hinder your healing.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.”

Despite only holding your hand, he could sense the way your entire body went rigid. “Kakashi, please—”

“(Y/n). I almost lost my soulmate this week.”

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the faint stinging in your eyes. He was right, you were being selfish. It wasn’t like you were the only one who had a terrible, terrifying week.

You just didn’t want to lose whatever you had with him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you didn’t bother to mask the strain in your voice. He already knew how you felt about him. “We can be friends. Anything you want. I just… I don’t want to lose this. You. I don’t want to lose you. Even though I was being so selfish—”

“I read your message,” he said softly, gaze fixated on the bend of your wrist as your hand flexed in his own. “I’ve read it so many times,” he laughed, strained from holding onto unshed tears. “I’d get it branded on my body if I could. Parts of it, anyway.”

He shook his head, looking back to your face. He didn’t miss the shocked expression, nor did he miss the tears still frozen within your eyes. He shook his head again. “I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been, that it was you and you were here all along. And then you almost died and I…” He paused, gaze still tracing along the bend of your wrist.

“You..?” With bated breath, you watched his eyes, the pull of his lips through the mask, anything to give away what he was thinking.

“I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Not after how much you’ve grown to mean to me.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. Was he accepting you or rejecting you? Your breath shuddered over your lips, hand trying not to clench his too tightly. “What does that mean? For us?”

Kakashi leaned forward, pressing a masked kiss to your temple. “It means I want to take you for dinner when you get out of here. And—” he stood, letting go of your hand to walk toward the door. The sun was setting. Visiting hours were coming to a close. “Keep the book. I’d hate for you to be bored while I’m gone.”

With that, he vanished from your room, leaving you to wonder exactly what he wanted from you.

Tossing and turning that night, you couldn’t sleep, not with Kakashi’s words ricocheting through your mind. He cared about you, but he was putting distance between you. He was being aloof, just like the cautious jonin he was, but he was exposing vulnerable aspects of his soul to you.

Everything was so damn complicated, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you’d gotten an answer to the questions burning a hole in your tongue.

It took a few minutes to sit up, but clicking the pen against your wrist had become second nature to you after so many years. You just wanted to know what he was thinking.

Do you love me?

He scribbled a reply a few minutes later, and you wondered if maybe he was just as terrified as you were, if maybe he couldn’t sleep because he was thinking of you, too.

Not like you want me to, but I could. Someday soon.

The thought sent hope skittering through your chest, but you tamped it down. He hadn’t wanted you. He still probably didn’t want you. You were a liability. You were a danger to his way of life. You were—

Ink stained your hand, trickling down your arm, as you realized the pen had snapped under the strength of your palm.

Without a way to stand on your own, you stared at the drying ink, trying to think of anything other than the fear in your chest, the longing in your heart, the nervousness bubbling under the surface.

Kakashi was stuck to the wall beside your window a few minutes later, staring worriedly through the glass.

An ink stain. Of course, he’d worried something was wrong.

He’d been awake waiting for your reply.

He’d been awake because of you. For you. The thought made you dizzy.

Silently, he slipped through the window, crouching worriedly beside your bed. Whatever pretense of nonchalance he kept up during the day, he dropped it now, just for you. “Are you alright?”

You nodded once, stiffly, mind still racing with the situation. Your friendly banter from the morning disappeared, words dried up as your emotions increased tenfold.

A million thoughts rattled through your mind, but you finally settled on one. “You told Gai you couldn’t love me.”

He cocked his head, confusion furrowing his lone brow.

“You were… it was a training day. You were talking about soulmates. And you told Gai that you couldn’t love a soulmate, so it didn’t matter if you didn’t find them…”

Your eyes were watering, and you looked away until you felt the warmth of Kakashi’s fingers circling your own. His hand clung to yours with renewed fervor, though the interaction still held the same touch of softness that it always held when you were injured. Comfort. It has always been an attempt to comfort you, a silent word of compassion. But now that he knew you were his soulmate, would his gestures hold the same meaning?

His voice, coupled with a gentle tug on your hand, had you vanishing into his gaze yet again.

“Soulmates are supposed to be your other half, right?” he asked softly. “If you’re mine, then maybe the whole soulmate thing can work out.”

Even in the moonlight, you could see the blush peeking over the edge of his mask.

You’d stood beside him through thick and thin. You fussed. You took care of him. You let him take care of you. You bought books for him, and he watched your favorite movies with you. He took you out to your favorite restaurants, and you always paid for him. You trained with the strength of a hurricane, and you always kept him mentally and physically on his toes. But no matter what, you’d both been able to rely on one another. It wasn’t romantic love, not yet, but it was the closest thing Kakashi had ever experienced to romantic love. He was close to being in love with you, and the revelation of the soulmate bond had changed those feelings very little.

He’d always been on the precipice of falling in love with you. Now that he knew you and he were destined for one another, the proposition of falling didn’t seem all that terrible anymore.

“If it’s me, you think it’ll work?”

This time, he flushed fully, pinking to the edge of his hairline. “Yeah. You’re… you’re perfect for me.”

Then, it was your turn to grow bashful under his praise. Perfect. He thought this could work because you were perfect. Not perfect in general. Not perfect to him. But perfect for him, with all of your many imperfections.

He wasn’t in love with you. He wouldn’t say it yet. But he was falling, and that was impossible to ignore.

His words left you lost in another world. All this time, he was rejecting his soulmate for fear they wouldn’t truly be his other half. But you were his other half, and he could see that now. He could love you. He could see a future with you. He could—

Kakashi’s warm voice brought you back to the present, hand still gently squeezing your fingertips. “Did you hurt your hand?”

He cares.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, just a little ink.”

Kakashi stood, striding toward the other side of the room. He washed his hands under the sink before returning a moment later, damp rag in hand. This time, he sat on the edge of your bed, hand enveloping your own.

With slow, delicate movements, he swirled the rag across your skin, stealing the ink from your skin almost as effortlessly as he’d stolen your heart. If only you knew how easily you’d done the same.

“I was so scared you’d hate me when you found out,” you whispered. His hand tensed under your own, but he didn’t stop his ministrations. You continued, “Since I kept talking to you, both as your soulmate and myself, I was so worried you would feel betrayed.”

“I did,” he murmured quietly. “At first.” He flipped your hand, wiping away the stray trails of ink that had escaped from your palm. “When I got the message, I couldn’t believe that you’d… after all this time, it was you. And when we found you almost dead, I thought the world was punishing me again, just like everyone else…” Looking away, he began wiping the remaining ink spots off his hand, leaving your fingers to fiddle with the fabric on his knee. “But on the way back, all I could think about was the things I’d said to you. How could you trust me after I so blatantly pushed you away? How could you look me in the eye and put your faith in me when I hurt you so deeply? The fact that you’d tried to stay by my side after everything, the fact that you put your faith in me to keep you safe, after all the things I’d said to you… you never betrayed me. You’ve been by my side all this time, and I want to be by yours. Completely.”

You squeezed his knee, searching his face for any sign of illusion. “Is this real?” you whispered. “I want this to be real.”

Kakashi smiled, eyes crinkling as he took your hand. You looked dazed and happy as you stared at him; he’d never encountered anyone else so stunning.

Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, brushing a masked kiss over your forehead, then your eyebrow, and finally your cheek. The pressure sent sparks across your skin, and you squeezed his hand a little bit tighter.

He hovered over your lips, breath ghosting across your skin through the durable material of his mask. You leaned forward, nudging his nose with your own. It was a silent message that you wanted his affection as much as he craved yours.

His breath puffed against your lips once again, and his voice, barely audible, filled the minuscule space between you. “Would you mind closing your eyes?”

Instantly, you complied, proving to him yet again how lucky he was to have met you. You put your faith in him time and time again, and he promised himself in that moment under the moonlight that he would do everything he could to be as compassionate a partner as you had been for him.

One of Kakashi’s hands released from yours, and you faintly heard the brush of fabric against skin. Your stomach fluttered as you felt his breath on your face again, warmer and closer than before.

And then his lips caught against yours, a gentle press against your tingling skin. His hand cupped your cheek, and you melted against him. The scratchy blankets and the faint hoot of owls faded into the background. Everything seemed to disappear except for you and Kakashi and the oh so delicate kiss between you. From the brush of his lips, so soft and tentative against your own, you sighed, leaning into him even more than before.

He groaned when the two of you pulled away. “I can’t believe I waited so long for that. Make Out Paradise really doesn’t do it justice.”

Make Out Paradise also hadn’t prepared him for the way his heart would race at the sound of your laughter.

“Are you sure?” you asked, reaching toward your bedside table. “Surely there’s a good passage in here somewhere.”

If it meant more time by your side, Kakashi was willing to spend an eternity searching the pages with you, stealing kisses for every paragraph you skimmed through.

~

In the morning, the nurses were alarmed and horrified to find Kakashi Hatake laying in your bed, one arm wrapped gently around your side, masked nose nuzzled into your neck. On the other side of you, his fingers brushed the cover of a well-worn Make Out Violence novel.

It was indecent, a break of protocol, and, most of all, a shameful mockery of their hospital security. But when you woke to find Kakashi’s nose tucking a little closer into your neck, a mumbled “good morning” slipping into your skin, neither of you could think of a more fitting way to wake up. For the two of you—soulmates, real soulmates—the scenario was somehow perfect.

He wasn’t one to care about looking indecent. You could certainly get behind that.

You welcomed sappy, romantic gestures. Kakashi was willing to privately oblige.

Yeah, you both thought, the soulmate thing could definitely work out.

Masterlist

A/N: Don't mind me casually fandom hopping again. This fic has taken ages to finish, but I'm so excited with the result! I have several more Kakashi fics currently underway, so I hope to get a few of them finished sometime soon! Have a nice day! :)

[devilslinks]

# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !

— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

wc; ( 3.2k )

synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.

a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝

warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.

euphoria.

that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.

the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.

hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.

you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.

“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.

your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.

and then, so did she.

“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.

“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.

“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.

“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”

her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.

her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.

“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.

“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.

“let me take care of you.. y/n.”

“let me treat you, nessa.”

the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.

did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.

with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.

your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.

“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.

“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.

impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.

“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.

“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.

despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.

she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.

you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.

“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.

“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?

you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.

the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.

just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.

“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;

euphoria.

[luvnami]

𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i have another blog where this is posted in a slightly different fashion. reader is implied to have a dimple here!

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - @rintaroll​

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - food

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1k+

“i told you to park there. if you did, we wouldn’t have to walk so far,” tsukishima complains.

his fingers are intertwined with yours as you make your way to a nearby cafe. it’s the one that you visit every weekend morning to get your weekly coffee and pastry fix, with tsukishima’s favourite strawberry and chocolate danishes and your americano.

“at least we’re getting some sun,” you replies with a quiet laugh. “and you’re the one who’s been complaining that you’re too pale.”

tsukishima grumbles under his breath and his worn sneakers drag against the concrete footpath. you pass by familiar shops on the way to the cafe. the overpriced bespoke tailor, a maternity store, a used bookshop and a flower shop are on the same street.

a bell on top of the wooden door jingles as tsukishima pushes it open, holding it for you to duck under his arm to enter. the smell of freshly roasted coffee and sweet treats fills the air while the chatter from different tables combine to form an undecipherable cacophony.

tsukishima spots an empty table for two by the window and makes a beeline for it. meanwhile, you wordlessly head for the counter and orders for the both of you. you soon return, bearing a number tent.

“it’s getting warmer recently,” you observe as you take a seat opposite tsukishima.

“yeah, we’ll have to change the bedding when we get back and start keeping our winter clothes.”

the blond reaches for the tent, turning it over to peer at the number before placing it back on the table. you stare out the window. people walk past, chatting with their own companions or staring at mobile phones on their way to their destination. 

you engage in casual talk until your food arrives. tsukishima complains about a new intern, while you go on a rant about the same colleague who never submits their reports on time. tsukishima’s hands lay on the table and you toy with his fingers as he speaks. ever since you had a bad habit of picking at your nail beds, tsukishima insisted you stop it. the remedy to that was offering his own fingers for you to tug at.

tsukishima thinks it’s a win for the both of you. he gets to hold your hands more often while you stop messing up your fingers.

when your food arrives, the chatting ceases. you both tuck into your respective dishes and only offer a few words over how it tastes. other than that, you’re equally absorbed in slicing and pushing another forkful of food into your mouths, alternating it with sips of hot coffee.

“you have some strawberry jam stuck on your lip,” you say when you’ve finished eating. 

you tap on the corner of your own mouth, showing tsukishima where the spot is. there’s a red smear that’s stark against his skin. he uses a napkin and rubs vaguely at it, but you shake your head. 

“you didn’t get it.” reaching forward, you use your thumb to gently wipe off the jam from tsukishima’s skin.

the tip of his ears turn red. “i could have done that myself,” he scoffs and uses the napkin again to roughly wipe at his mouth.

you chuckle. “sure you could’ve.”

you leave the cafe after finishing your coffee. tsukishima disappears into the flower shop, while you peruse the sale corner of the used bookshop. you emerge from either store with a paper bag tucked under your arm. you stare at the pink flowers that stick out from tsukishima’s bag in contrast to his entirely dark outfit.

“camellias. they’re cat-safe,” tsukishima explains as you lean forward to inspect them. “these were the only colours they had in store.”

“oddly enough, i think they suit you,” you teases.

tsukishima rolls his eyes, though his cheeks are the same colour as the flowers themselves.

“what did you pick up today?” he asks as you begin the walk back to the car. 

“an old penguin edition of ‘pride and prejudice’.” you reaches for tsukishima’s hand as he speaks, firmly grasping it.

“don’t we already have like, two copies of the same book?” 

“yeah, but this one has a prettier cover. i’ll show it to you later.”

as you smile, a dimple appears on your cheek. tsukishima scoffs and shakes his head endearingly. the shelf at home is filled with books, both from your own collections, often overspilling onto stacks by the coffee table or kitchen counter where the sunlight always shines in the evening.

there will always be space for one more book. one more stacked by the television, where the cats often knock them over (tsukishima really should move them someday), or in the study room littered with drafted manuscripts. 

likewise, there will always be space for tsukishima in your heart — and the other way around, too. there has been, will be, space. you will make room if need be, though you don’t really know how that will happen. your hearts are so full of each other, after all, that reshelving wouldn’t work the same as with books. 

tsukishima gets into the passenger’s seat and cradles the flowers and book in his lap. you start the car up. the radio switches on as a 90s love song plays quietly through the car’s speakers, and you pull out of the parking lot. 

you return home where your cats greet them with curious meows, pawing at your legs to sniff at the new items their owners brought back home. tsukishima places the flowers in a vase on the coffee table, where the water catches the reflection of your thrifted table lamp (it’s in the shape of a frog, and tsukishima hadn’t dared to leave the shop without it). the flowers match the pink checkered tablecloth.

meanwhile, you pull out the book you bought and place it on his desk next to a photo of you at the zoo. tsukishima has his arm around your shoulders fondly, while you look mildly terrified holding a bunny. the pretty cover is your latest addition to a growing pile of titles. 

tsukishima walks into the study wearing his matching dinosaur indoor slippers. they were a gag birthday gift from you, but he wears them although it’s a little embarrassing when guests come over.

“you were right. it is pretty,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

his hand covers yours, your couple rings clinking against each other.

a dimple forms on your cheek.

“isn’t it?”

[lilliagradiewrites]

say that you’re mine (harry styles)

Summary: You and Harry attend a Christmas party for the cast and crew of Don’t Worry Darling, and a guy gets a little too flirty for Harry’s liking.

WC: 1.9k

WARNINGS: drinking/alcohol, cursing, and jealousy i guess? not sure if that needs a warning, but it’s the main content of this piece. This has mentions of sexy time, but no actual smut.

A/N: Here we go!!! I have loved Harry for so long and have been wanting to write for him forever. I’ve written many things, but none of them turned out well enough for me to upload them. This one turned out pretty okay, so I hope you guys like it! I know this is different than my usual content, but if any harries happen across it, I hope they enjoy it. If you want, replace Harry with Rudy Pankow, and DWD with OBX Season 2 lol.

I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoy!!!

LET’S DO IT!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

The night started out strong. You looked good, you felt good. A few drinks had already been consumed before arriving at the event, and so you were already in the party mood. Harry, your boyfriend of over a year, looked gorgeous as always. Everything was perfect.

Until him.

Harry noticed the guy’s infatuation with you long before you did. You were out on the dance floor, looking amazing, having the time of your life. A smile was on your face as you moved your body to the music. You looked genuinely happy, and the sight made Harry even happier. He watched you intently, his eyes focused on nothing else but you.

Something began to feel off, however, and he quickly noticed that his eyes weren’t the only pair that were locked on your body.

Across the room, another man watched you with the same intensity as Harry, sipping his drink sensually. Harry didn’t like it. Not. At. All.

He had always been incredibly possessive over you, but especially when you looked like this. It was rare that you got super dressed up like this, and you looked incredible. Your makeup was done flawlessly, and your hair looked stunning. You were breathtaking.

And that dress. God, that dress.

It was a little black number that you had gotten a while ago, and you had been waiting patiently for months to have a reason to wear it. When Harry had told you about the cast Christmas party, you had mainly been excited to pull this dress from the back of your closet, where it had been collecting dust since you purchased it.

Harry had a love-hate relationship with the dress.

He loved it because you looked so fucking good in it.

He hated it because you looked so fucking good in it.

Of course he loved seeing you in it. He got to admire what was his, every curve on full display.

But, the issue was, that if he could see it, everyone else could, too.

Men had been ogling you all night, making his jaw clench and his hand form into fists, but none of them were like this guy.

The man was watching you with such intensity, Harry was surprised he hadn’t burned holes through your skin.

It took a lot of self control for Harry to keep from walking over and punching the absolute shit out of that guy.

When you eventually walked back over, Harry took the opportunity to show that man who you belonged to.

“Hey, lovie. Havin’ fun?” He asked as you approached him.

“Mhm, I-” Your words were cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your waist and pulling you in close, kissing you roughly.

You kissed back for a moment before pulling away, shock evident on your face.

“Woah.” You breathed. “What was that for? I mean I liked it, but…”

“Just showin’ you how that dancin’ you did made me feel.”

Your cheeks reddened immediately, and you dropped his gaze. Before you could look too far away forever, he was taking your chin into his hand, guiding your face to meet his.

“Don’ get all shy on me now, lovie. When you danced like tha’, wearin’ a dress like tha’, you lost the privilege.”

You giggled lightly, your cheeks growing even redder.

“Now, darlin’, I have to go talk to that guy,” He pointed across the room to a man in a fancy suit, “about shooting dates for next year. We can talk about this more when I come back, mm?”

All you could was nod. By your reaction to his words, he knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He gave you a wink that left you flustered as ever, and went on his way.

Now you stood alone, and didn’t exactly know what to do. You could go back out and dance until Harry was finished, but you felt as if your knees might collapse because of your previous encounter. Your only other option was to sit at the bar, and you were wanting another drink anyway. So, you found an empty seat and sat yourself in it, waiting for the bartender to come over to you.

Unbeknown to you, a man was headed your way, his eyes trained on the empty seat beside you.

Though you had no idea, Harry, across the room, was watching the guys’ every move. He had been keeping an eye on the man ever since he caught the guy watching you on the dance floor. As soon as he noticed the guy walking over to you, Harry’s jaw grew firm, and his fist clenched.

He willed himself to have self control, but also knew that if the guy laid a finger on you, he wouldn’t be able to keep his composure.

At the bar, the bartender had finally approached you, and you smiled politely as she greeted you.

“Hi, honey, what can I get for you?”

“An old-fashioned, please.”

“Alright, coming right up.”

You thanked the bartender as she turned around to begin making your drink. At this point, the stranger from the other side of the room had made his way over, and he slid into the seat beside you.

“Oh- hello.” You said, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man.

“Hey, how are you? I’m Jason.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

The man nodded, a charming smile on his face. “Y/N.” He echoed. “That’s very pretty.”

“Thank you.” You politely replied. At this point, the bartender was walking up to you from behind the counter, your old-fashioned in her hand.

“One old-fashioned for you, honey. That’ll be 10.23.”

Jason, the man sitting beside you, reached quickly for his wallet. “Here, let me get that for you.”

“No, it’s okay.” You said immediately, knowing Harry wouldn’t like it if someone else bought you a drink. “I’m alright. Thank you though.”

“No, really, I-” Jason tried to insist, but you were already handing your card to the bartender.

Jason, who’s cheeks were now slightly pink, put his wallet back in his pocket.

“An old-fashioned, huh?” He said, very obviously as an attempt to make light conversation. “A classic. Not many people here like stuff like that, usually get the super fruity shit.”

Going along with it to be polite, you replied. “Yeah, I prefer simpler drinks. I don’t like anything too fancy.”

“I usually get a Manhattan, myself.” Jason says, motioning to the drink in his hand.

“I’ve never had one. They aren't terribly different from an old-fashioned, right?”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, they’re quite similar. If you finish that one, I’ll buy you a Manhattan so you can taste the difference for yourself.”

You shook your head. He clearly didn’t get the hint the first time. “That’s very sweet, but I’m alright. This will probably be my last drink for the night.”

“You sure? I’d really like to get one for you.”

“Yes, I’m sure. But thank you.”

Jason just nodded, not knowing what else to say.

From across the room, Harry was still having his conversation with the Assistant Director, but was barely focused on it. The only thing he could focus on was you and that guy, sitting and having a conversation at the bar. What was he saying to you? Why was he smiling like that? Why were YOU smiling? The whole thing frustrated him, and he couldn’t wait for this conversation to end so that he could go over there.

“So, what do you do on set? Are you in the cast?” You were still talking to Jason, not knowing what else to do as you waited for your boyfriend to return.

“I work in audio. Microphones, boom mics, and voiceover shit. I’m behind the scenes, so you probably haven’t seen me much. Are you in the cast?”

“Oh, no, I came with-”

“Me.” A familiar voice came over your shoulder, and you turned to find Harry behind you.

“Harry Styles, nice to meet you.” He was talking to Jason, but his hands slid around your waist. You could tell by the way that his brow was furrowed that he wasn’t too happy.

“Oh, shit. The Harry Styles? Nice to meet you, man.” It took Jason a second to realize that Harry was holding you, but once he did, it was obvious. His eyebrows raised, his eyes went wide. “Oh, Y/N, you came with him? Are the two of you dating?”

“Yes, we are.” Harry spoke for you. He turned his head in your direction so that he was speaking into your ear, but talked loud enough for Jason to hear. “I have someone I want you meet, love, so we should probably head over there.”

You nodded quickly. “Okay.” You stood up from your chair, giving Jason another polite smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jason. Maybe I’ll see you around the set when I’m there visiting.”

Jason nodded and smiled. “Have a good night.”

You took your drink from the counter as Harry took your hand, dragging you away from the bar and toward the back corner of the room. It took you a second, but you eventually realized that he wasn’t leading you to meet anyone.

You were headed towards the bathrooms.

When you arrived at your destination, Harry pulled the door open as dragged you inside, closing and locking it after you were both in.

When he rounded on you, your cheeks went pink with nerves.

“You think that was funny, love? Flirtin’ with another guy at one of MY work events? You think that’s cute?”

All you could do was nod.

“Words, baby. I want an answer. Was flirtin’ with him funny to you?”

“Wasn’t flirting with him.” You squeaked out, the color in your cheeks even darker.

“You weren’t flirtin’ with him? Then why were you smilin’ like tha’?”

“I was just trying to be nice, Haz. You know, treat people with kindness?”

Harry’s eyes darkened immediately, and he grabbed your chin, yanking it upwards so that you’d meet his eyes.

“Don’ play tha’ game with me, lovie. Not tonight.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between yours, and you felt a warmth grow in your lower half.

“I saw the way he was lookin’ at you. He was watchin’ you all night. Was practically fuckin’ you with his eyes.” Harry's voice was menacing, and you were beginning to melt under his gaze. “I didn’t like tha’. Not. At. All.”

Harry took his free hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you abruptly into him you yelped at the sudden movement.

“You are mine, Y/N. Just mine.”

You nodded, but Harry wanted more.

“Say it. Say that you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours, Harry. I’m all yours.”

“That’s righ’.” He said, releasing you from his grip. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m goin’ to say goodbye to Olivia and Florence and a few other people, and then we are going home so I can really show you who you belong to, alrigh’? Finish your drink, return the glass, and then come find me. Don’ you dare talk to that guy, alrigh’?”

You nodded for what felt like the millionth time that night, and Harry reached around you to unlock the door and open it.

As you walked out of the bathroom, you looked towards the bar. Jason was no longer sitting there, and you could see him anywhere near there. You headed straight over there, wanting to follow Harry’s instructions exactly.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but be excited for what would happen when you got home.

~~~~~ A/N: Alright, y’all: there it is! My first Harry fic! This is on the shorter side but I hope you guys still liked it. All notes and weblogs are super appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!! I write for:

- Harry Styles

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REQUEST THINGS, I would love to write for y'all!

Once again, I love you all so much!!!

[aboveallarescuer]

Parallels between Aerys II Targaryen and Cersei Lannister (and why they are both foils to Dany)

In this post, I gathered all the parallels I could find between Cersei and Aerys II after recently rereading Cersei’s chapters and Aerys’s section in TWOIAF. While a lot of people have made good points criticizing how Cersei was written (namely, as incompetent, misogynistic and irredeemable, at least in the canon timeline where her fate is already sealed) considering her special place in the narrative (namely, as arguably the female character who most frequently and openly questions and challenges the validity of Westerosi patriarchy, as well as the only major female villain of the story and the only woman among the three Lannister siblings), it’s also true that GRRM intended her to be paralleled with Aerys II in many ways, which will be laid out here.

Recognizing how Aerys II and Cersei are alike is particularly important for emphasizing that both characters were written as foils to Daenerys, so I will also explain how Dany doesn’t share their similarities.

Both believe they are destined for greatness

Aerys II:

Aerys II did not lack for ambition. Upon his coronation, he declared that it was his wish to be the greatest king in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, a conceit certain of his friends encouraged by suggesting that one day he might be remembered as Aerys the Wise or even Aerys the Great. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

The Lord of Casterly Rock deserved rainbows. He had been a great man. I shall be greater, though. A thousand years from now, when the maesters write about this time, you shall be remembered only as Queen Cersei’s sire. (AFFC Cersei II)

That’s not the case with Dany. Her titles (the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Mhysa, Azor Ahai, etc) were given to her by other people, she doesn’t think she’s special despite birthing dragons and receiving multiple prophecies and she’s incredibly hard on herself for every mistake she makes. She simply doesn’t have an exaggerated sense of her importance or abilities like Cersei and Aerys II do.

Both are cut by the Iron Throne

Aerys II:

Yet still the blades tormented him, the ones he could never escape, the blades of the Iron Throne. His arms and legs were always covered with scabs and half-healed cuts. (AFFC Jaime II)

Cersei:

The barbs and blades of the Iron Throne bit into her flesh as she crouched to hide her shame. Blood ran red down her legs, as steel teeth gnawed at her buttocks. When she tried to stand, her foot slipped through a gap in the twisted metal. The more she struggled the more the throne engulfed her, tearing chunks of flesh from her breasts and belly, slicing at her arms and legs until they were slick and red, glistening. (AFFC Cersei I)

While Cersei was only cut in a dream, this moment is still significant because the Iron Throne is infamous for only harming and ‘rejecting’ the bad rulers. GRRM could have written a similar dream for Dany if he wanted to make her and Cersei follow the same direction, specially in AFFC/ADWD where he noted multiple times that they’re meant to be paralleled and contrasted. Instead, while Cersei’s first chapter in AFFC begins with her dreaming of being on the Iron Throne and being cut by it, Dany’s first chapter in ADWD begins with her dreaming of a house with a red door. Also, while Cersei wishes she could sit on the Iron Throne but is unable to because only the King and the Hand can sit on it, Dany willingly gives up on the privilege to sit on an elaborate throne and chooses an ebony bench that "did not befit a queen" in Meereen. So, not only the author emphasized that Dany doesn’t want power for its own sake (but rather to help people) and that she wants to be at the level of her people, he also didn’t take the chance to portray her as a bad ruler (because she is a good one) like he did with Cersei and Aerys II.

Both feel excitement and pleasure at the sight of wildfire

Aerys II:

Frustrated, Aerys turned to the Wisdoms of the ancient Guild of Alchemists, who knew the secret of producing the volatile jade green substance known as wildfire, said to be a close cousin to dragonflame. The pyromancers became a regular fixture at his court as the king's fascination with fire grew. By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. A king has no secrets from his Kingsguard. Relations between Aerys and his queen had been strained during the last years of his reign. They slept apart and did their best to avoid each other during the waking hours. But whenever Aerys gave a man to the flames, Queen Rhaella would have a visitor in the night. (AFFC Jaime II)

Cersei:

Cersei thought of all the King’s Hands that she had known through the years: Owen Merryweather, Jon Connington, Qarlton Chelsted, Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark, her brother Tyrion. And her father, Lord Tywin Lannister, her father most of all. All of them are burning now, she told herself, savoring the thought. They are dead and burning, every one, with all their plots and schemes and betrayals. It is my day now. It is my castle and my kingdom. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Cersei felt too alive for sleep. The wildfire was cleansing her, burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve. “The flames are so pretty. I want to watch them for a while.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. (AFFC Jaime II)

That never happens with Dany. She does describe the flames positively during the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs, but so does Jon Snow and GRRM himself. She does claim the fire as hers, but it has to do with her magical intuition as she puts two and two to birth her children and is ultimately validated. Most importantly, unlike Aerys II and Cersei, Dany a) never feels excitement while watching things burn for their own sake, b) never takes pleasure viewing or imagining her enemies burning and c) is never compared to Aerys II to highlight any disturbing behavior from her part. She is called the Mad King’s daughter by her enemies (the slavers and Mace Tyrell), but the characters around her and the ones who have nothing to gain by defaming her (Barristan, Tyrion, Illyrio, Quentyn) reiterate that she’s nothing like him. Meanwhile, two of the people who have known Cersei the longest (Jaime on the quotes above, Tyrion) compare her to Aerys II.

Both grow paranoid with time; they imagine implausible scenarios in which their perceived enemies are working (often together) against them, accept their baseless fears as truth and make hasty decisions based on them

Aerys II:

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The birth of Prince Viserys only seemed to make Aerys II more fearful and obsessive, however. Though the new young princeling seemed healthy enough, the king was terrified lest he suffer the same fate as his brothers. Kingsguard knights were commanded to stand over him night and day to see that no one touched the boy without the king's leave. Even the queen herself was forbidden to be alone with the infant. When her milk dried up, Aerys insisted on having his own food taster suckle at the teats of the prince's wet nurse, to ascertain that the woman had not smeared poison on her nipples. As gifts for the young prince arrived from all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, the king had them piled in the yard and burned, for fear that some of them might have been ensorcelled or cursed. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Captivity at Duskendale had shattered whatever sanity had remained to Aerys II Targaryen. From that day forth, the king's madness reigned unchecked, growing worse with every passing year. The Darklyns had dared lay hands upon his person, shoving him roughly, stripping him of his royal raiment, even daring to strike him. After his release, King Aerys would no longer allow himself to be touched, even by his own servants. Uncut and unwashed, his hair grew ever longer and more tangled, whilst his fingernails lengthened and thickened into grotesque yellow talons. He forbade any blade in his presence save for the swords carried by the knights of his Kingsguard, sworn to protect him. His judgments became ever harsher and crueler. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Once safely returned to King's Landing, His Grace refused to leave the Red Keep for any cause and remained a virtual prisoner in his own castle for the next four years, during which time he grew ever more wary of those around him, Tywin Lannister in particular. His suspicions extended even to his own son and heir. Prince Rhaegar, he was convinced, had conspired with Tywin Lannister to have him slain at Duskendale. They had planned to storm the town walls so that Lord Darklyn would put him to death, opening the way for Rhaegar to mount the Iron Throne and marry Lord Tywin's daughter. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

And when the triumphant Prince of Dragonstone named Lyanna Stark, daughter of the Lord of Winterfell, the queen of love and beauty, placing a garland of blue roses in her lap with the tip of his lance, the lickspittle lords gathered around the king declared that further proof of his perfidy. Why would the prince have thus given insult to his own wife, the Princess Elia Martell of Dorne (who was present), unless it was to help him gain the Iron Throne? The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia's delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar's cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

When the news reached the Red Keep, it was said that Aerys cursed the Dornish, certain that Lewyn had betrayed Rhaegar. He sent his pregnant queen, Rhaella, and his younger son and new heir, Viserys, away to Dragonstone, but Princess Elia was forced to remain in King's Landing with Rhaegar's children as a hostage against Dorne. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The End)

Cersei:

“I am counseling you. If you will not yield the regency to me, name me your castellan for Casterly Rock and make either Mathis Rowan or Randyll Tarly the Hand of the King.”

Tyrell bannermen, both of them. The suggestion left her speechless. Is he bought? she wondered. Has he taken Tyrell gold to betray House Lannister? (AFFC Cersei II)

~

“Lord Manderly hacked the head and hands off the onion knight, we have that from the Freys, and half a dozen other northern lords have rallied to Lord Bolton. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Where else can Stannis turn, but to the ironmen and the wildlings, the enemies of the north? But if he thinks that I am going to walk into his trap, he is a bigger fool than you.” (AFFC Cersei VII)

~

“No doubt. Tell me, was it our little queen who commanded you to kill Lord Gyles?”

“K-kill?” Grand Maester Pycelle’s eyes grew as big as boiled eggs. “Your Grace cannot believe ... it was his cough, by all the gods, I ... Her Grace would not ... she bore Lord Gyles no ill will, why would Queen Margaery want him ...”

“... dead? Why, to plant another rose on Tommen’s council. Are you blind or bought? Rosby stood in her way, so she put him in his grave. With your connivance.” (AFFC Cersei IX)

~

She knew Joff was too strong for her, Cersei thought, remembering the gold coin Qyburn had found. For House Tyrell to hope to rule, he had to be removed. It came back to her that Margaery and her hideous grandmother had once plotted to marry Sansa Stark to the little queen’s crippled brother Willas. Lord Tywin had forestalled that by stealing a march on them and wedding Sansa to Tyrion, but the link had been there. They are all in it together, she realized with a start. The Tyrells bribed the gaolers to free Tyrion, and whisked him down the roseroad to join his vile bride. By now the both of them are safe in Highgarden, hidden away behind a wall of roses. (AFFC Cersei VI)

Cersei’s case is complicated in that she has valid reasons to be anxious: prophecies come true in her world, the Tyrells did kill Joffrey (she’s right in that regard, at least) and the coin found in the cell could be evidence that the Tyrells were involved in Tyrion’s escape. The problem is how she deals with her suspicions. To defeat Margaery, she projected her experiences on her (every widow definitely has sexual appetites, so Margaery definitely has lovers), held on to the few dubious signs that she was cheating on the king (Margaery asking Pycelle for moon tea or having a lively court), tortured an innocent man to confirm the story she needs to incriminate Margaery and arrested several innocent people. Besides that, Cersei also: alienates Kevan by avoiding his recommendations and giving important titles to other cousins based on her hunch that he was bought by the Tyrells (quote above); avoids giving the Tyrells help when the ironmen attack the Shield Islands based on her baseless suspicion that Stannis made an alliance with the ironmen and was, therefore, behind the attack on the Shield Islands with the intention to turn Cersei’s eyes away from the Storm’s End and Dragonstone (quote above); forces Pycelle to "confirm" what she wants to believe because of her guess that he helped the Tyrells kill Gyles Rosby (quote above). And these are just some of the major examples.

Dany has moments when she is unsure of whether the people around her are reliable or not. She questions if Reznak is trustworthy or if he, Hizdahr and the Green Grace joined forces against her or if Groleo could be one of the three prophesied treasons, but she remains willing to listen to their advice and never undermines or punishes them solely based on her suspicions because, unlike her father or Cersei, she has a healthy distrust of others.

Both choose to be excessively and needlessly brutal against their enemies and the people who offend them (even when their offenses are relatively minor and/or not supported by facts)

Aerys II:

When one such reported that the captain of the Hand's personal guard, a knight named Ser Ilyn Payne, had been heard boasting it was Lord Tywin who truly ruled the Seven Kingdoms, His Grace sent the Kingsguard to arrest the man and had his tongue ripped out with red-hot pincers. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

By 280 AC, Aerys II had taken to burning traitors, murderers, and plotters, rather than hanging or beheading them. The king seemed to take great pleasure in these fiery executions, which were presided over by Wisdom Rossart, the grand master of the Guild of Alchemists...so much so that he granted Rossart the title of Lord and gave him a seat upon the small council. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

When Darklyn and his family were presented to him in chains, Aerys demanded their deaths—and not only Darklyn's immediate kin but his uncles and aunts and even distant kinsmen in Duskendale. Even his goodkin, the Hollards, were attainted and destroyed. Only Ser Symon's young nephew, Dontos Hollard, was spared—and only then because Ser Barristan begged that mercy as a boon, and the king he had saved could not refuse him. As to Lady Serala, hers was a crueler death. Aerys had the Lace Serpent's tongue and her womanly parts torn out before she was burned alive (yet her enemies say that she should have suffered more and worse for the ruin she brought down upon the town). (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

"M'lord, begging your pardon, Her Grace said those as didn't meet their numbers would have their hands crushed," the anxious smith persisted. "Smashed on their own anvils, she said."

Sweet Cersei, always striving to make the smallfolk love us. (ACOK Tyrion III)

~

"Y'Grace," he said quietly, "the boys caught a groom and two maidservants trying to sneak out a postern with three of the king's horses."

"The night's first traitors," the queen said, "but not the last, I fear. Have Ser Ilyn see to them, and put their heads on pikes outside the stables as a warning." (ACOK Sansa VI)

~

“I hope you did not wake them, Ser Boros. Let them sleep.”

“Sleep?” He looked up, jowly and confused. “Aye, Your Grace. How long shall—”

“Forever. See that they sleep forever, ser. I will not suffer guards to sleep on watch.” (AFFC Cersei I)

~

“His Grace should send the Wall a hundred men. To take the black, ostensibly, but in truth …”

“... to remove Jon Snow from the command,” Cersei finished, delighted. I knew I was right to want him on my council. “That is just what we shall do.” She laughed. If this bastard boy is truly his father's son, he will not suspect a thing. Perhaps he will even thank me, before the blade slides between his ribs. “It will need to be done carefully, to be sure. Leave the rest to me, my lords.” This was how an enemy should be dealt with: with a dagger, not a declaration. (AFFC Cersei IV)

~

“Send some of your whisperers to these shows and make note of who attends. If any of them should be men of note, I would know their names.”

“What will be done with them, if I may be so bold?”

“Any men of substance shall be fined. Half their worth should be sufficient to teach them a sharp lesson and refill our coffers, without quite ruining them. Those too poor to pay can lose an eye, for watching treason. For the puppeteers, the axe.”

“There are four. Perhaps Your Grace might allow me two of them for mine own purposes. A woman would be especially ...”

“I gave you Senelle,” the queen said sharply.

“Alas. The poor girl is quite ... exhausted.”

[...] “Yes, you may take a woman. Two, if it please you. But first I will have names. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

“I cannot have Falyse spreading tales about the city. Her grief has made her witless. Do you still need women for your ... work?”

“I do, Your Grace. The puppeteers are quite used up.”

“Take her and do with her as you will, then. But once she goes down into the black cells ... need I say more?” (AFFC Cersei VII)

Dany doesn’t act like this. She burned the masters in Astapor to protect her retinue and punished the Meereenese leaders who ordered the crucifixion of the slave children, but she also spared all the Yunkish masters and most of the Meereenese masters. Her leniency is the root of her problems in ADWD, since it allowed them to retaliate against the abolition of slavery. Additionally, Dany doesn’t punish Ghael for spitting on her, she doesn’t punish a boy for trying to attack her, she doesn't punish Xaro for threatening her to her face, she chooses not to follow her councillors' advice to punish the former slavers indiscriminately and so on. You can read more about how Dany's tendency is to avoid using violence in this meta.

Both use torture to get people to confirm what they believe or what's convenient for them

Aerys II:

The march of the king's madness seemed to abate for a time in 274 AC, when Queen Rhaella gave birth to a son. So profound was His Grace's joy that it seemed to restore him to his old self once again...but Prince Jaehaerys died later that same year, plunging Aerys into despair. In his black rage, he decided the babe's wet nurse was to blame and had the woman beheaded. Not long after, in a change of heart, Aerys announced that Jaehaerys had been poisoned by his own mistress, the pretty young daughter of one of his household knights. The king had the girl and all her kin tortured to death. During the course of their torment, it is recorded, all confessed to the murder, though the details of their confessions were greatly at odds. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Tell us how you pleasured the little queen. [...] How many of them did you have carnal knowledge of?”

“None of them. I’m just a singer. Please.”

[...] Lord Qyburn ran a hand up the Blue Bard’s chest. “Does she take your nipples in her mouth during your love play?” He took one between his thumb and forefinger, and twisted. “Some men enjoy that. Their nipples are as sensitive as a woman’s.” The razor flashed, the singer shrieked. On his chest a wet red eye wept blood. [...]

By dawn the singer’s high blue boots were full of blood, and he had told them how Margaery would fondle herself as she watched her cousins pleasuring him with their mouths. At other times he would sing for her whilst she sated her lusts with other lovers. “Who were they?” the queen demanded, and the wretched Wat named Ser Tallad the Tall, Lambert Turnberry, Jalabhar Xho, the Redwyne twins, Osney Kettleblack, Hugh Clifton, and the Knight of Flowers.

That displeased her. She dare not besmirch the name of the hero of Dragonstone. [...] The Redwynes could not be a part of it either. [...] “All you are doing is spitting up the names of men you saw about her chambers. We want the truth! [...] Horas and Hobber had no part of this, did they?”

“No,” he admitted. “Not them.”

“As for Ser Loras, I am certain Margaery took pains to hide what she was doing from her brother.”

“She did. I remember now. Once I had to hide under the bed when Ser Loras came to see her. He must never know, she said.”

“I prefer this song to the other.” (AFFC Cersei IX)

Dany doesn't act like her father or Cersei in that regard either. She allows the use of torture (which is normalized in her world) to question people regarding the murders of former slaves, but she stops it once she realizes that the results are unreliable because, unlike her foils, she cares about punishing the actual perpetrators, not about having her beliefs confirmed at any cost.

Both are often cruel, rude and disrespectful to others

Aerys II:

At the great Anniversary Tourney of 272 AC, held to commemorate Aerys's tenth year upon the Iron Throne, Joanna Lannister brought her six-year-old twins Jaime and Cersei from Casterly Rock to present before the court. The king (very much in his cups) asked her if giving suck to them had "ruined your breasts, which were so high and proud." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Over his Hand's strenuous objections, the king doubled the port fees at King's Landing and Oldtown, and tripled them for Lannisport and the realm's other ports and harbors. When a delegation of small lords and rich merchants came before the Iron Throne to complain, however, Aerys blamed the Hand for the exactions, saying, "Lord Tywin shits gold, but of late he has been constipated and had to find some other way to fill our coffers." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Tyrion, as the babe was named, was a malformed, dwarfish babe born with stunted legs, an oversized head, and mismatched, demonic eyes (some reports also suggested he had a tail, which was lopped off at his lord father's command). Lord Tywin's Doom, the smallfolk called this ill-made creature, and Lord Tywin's Bane. Upon hearing of his birth, King Aerys infamously said, "The gods cannot abide such arrogance. They have plucked a fair flower from his hand and given him a monster in her place, to teach him some humility at last." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

Cersei stared at her, aghast. “Your lackwit sister gets herself raped by half of King’s Landing, and Tanda thinks to honor the bastard with my lord father’s name? I think not.” (AFFC Cersei II)

~

She wanted a storm to match her rage. To Jocelyn she said, “Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering little fool.”

It was the wedding that enraged her, though the slow-witted Swyft girl made a safer target. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Would Your Grace honor her white knight with a dance?”

She gave him a withering look. “And have you fumbling at me with that stump? No. I will let you fill my wine cup for me, though. If you think you can manage it without spilling.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Very well. Get off those saggy knees and try to remember what it was to be a man.” Pycelle struggled to rise, but took so long about it that she had to tell Osmund Kettleblack to give him another yank. (AFFC Cersei IX)

For the vast majority of the time, Dany is kind and courteous. Her detractors tend to question that fact with two main arguments: a) she laughed at Quentyn; b) she is intolerant about Meereenese culture. Their first argument is very weak. Dany didn't laugh at Quentyn, she laughed about the reason why Quentyn is called frog and then forgot to explain why she did so in the Common Tongue. Even then, though, Quentyn is so overwhelmed by her kindness that he only remembers that "the queen had always spoken to him gently". Their second argument is also unconvincing because Dany's dislike of several aspects of Meereenese culture has to do with their ties to slavery (case in point: the fighting pits) and, even then, she makes several concessions to culturally adapt. Additionally, unlike Aerys II or Cersei, she doesn't express her critical thoughts (which are way less common and way less derogatory than Cersei's) verbally.

Both give rewards and promotions to those who blindly obey and agree with them, regardless of whether they’re experienced, competent or trustworthy

Aerys II:

He was also vain, proud, and changeable, traits that made him easy prey for flatterers and lickspittles, but these flaws were not immediately apparent to most at the time of his ascension. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

His father's court had been made up largely of older, seasoned men, many of whom had also served during the reign of King Aegon V. Aerys II dismissed them one and all, replacing them with lords of his own generation. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The king replaced him as Hand with Lord Owen Merryweather, an aged and amiable lickspittle famed for laughing loudest at every jape and witticism uttered by the king, no matter how feeble. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The Mad King could be savagely cruel, as seen most plainly when he burned those he perceived to be his enemies, but he could also be extravagant, showering men who pleased him with honors, offices, and lands. The lickspittle lords who surrounded Aerys II had gained much and more from the king's madness and eagerly seized upon any opportunity to speak ill of Prince Rhaegar and inflame the father's suspicions of the son. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

"A weak ruler needs a strong Hand, as Aerys needed Father. A strong ruler requires only a diligent servant to carry out his orders." (AFFC Jaime II)

~

The Kettleblacks would charm her, take her coin, and promise her anything she asked, and why not, when Bronn was matching every copper penny, coin for coin? Amiable rogues all three, the brothers were in truth much more skilled at deceit than they'd ever been at bloodletting. Cersei had managed to buy herself three hollow drums; they would make all the fierce booming sounds she required, but there was nothing inside. (ACOK Tyrion IX)

~

My councillors. Cersei had uprooted every rose, and all those beholden to her uncle and her brothers. In their places were men whose loyalty would be to her. She had even given them new styles, borrowed from the Free Cities; the queen would have no “masters” at court beside herself. (AFFC Cersei IV)

~

Grand Maester Pycelle had wanted an older man “more seasoned in the ways of war” to command the gold cloaks, and several of her other councillors had agreed with him. “Ser Osfryd is seasoned quite sufficiently,” she had told them, but even that did not shut them up. They yap at me like a pack of small, annoying dogs. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

"She would have done better to leave the tower and burn her Hand. Harys Swyft? If ever a man deserved his arms, it is Ser Harys. And Gyles Rosby, Seven save us, I thought he died years ago. Merryweather ... your father used to call his grandsire 'the Chuckler,' I'll have you know. Tywin claimed the only thing Merryweather was good for was chuckling at the king's witticisms. His lordship chuckled himself right into exile, as I recall. Cersei has put some bastard on the council too, and a kettle in the Kingsguard. (AFFC Jaime V)

Besides the Kettleblacks (as shown above), Cersei rewards many other people that are rarely, if ever, willing to question her - Harys Swyft, Orton Merryweather, Aurane Waters, Gyles Rosby, Meryn Trant, Qyburn (the only one who doesn't turn his back on Cersei after she falls from power), etc. The only one that disagrees with her decisions regularly is Pycelle, which is why she rebukes him quite a few times throughout AFFC. Also, while Cersei considers Aerys a weak ruler, they both believe that their Hands should be servants that know their place and follow them blindly.

Dany doesn't restrict herself to only listening to the people she agrees with. She welcomes dissent multiple times throughout the books and so, consequently, her council gives voice to multiple groups (from the Unsullied to the freedmen to the former slavers to the Dothraki).

Both alienate and undermine important allies because of disagreements that could have been mended and fears that lead both rulers to perceive these potential allies as enemies

Aerys II:

The growing rift between the king and the King's Hand was also apparent in the matter of appointments. Whereas previously His Grace had always heeded his Hand's counsel, bestowing offices, honors, and inheritances as Lord Tywin recommended, after 270 AC he began to disregard the men put forward by his lordship in favor of his own choices. Many westermen found themselves dismissed from the king's service for no better cause than the suspicion that they might be "Hand's men." In their places, King Aerys appointed his own favorites...but the king's favor had become a chancy thing, his mistrust easy to awaken. Even the Hand's own kin were not exempt from royal displeasure. When Lord Tywin wished to name his brother Ser Tygett Lannister as the Red Keep's master-at-arms, King Aerys gave the post to Ser Willem Darry instead. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Perhaps seeking to gain advantage of His Grace's high spirits, Lord Tywin chose that very night to suggest that it was past time the king's heir wed and produced an heir of his own; he proposed his own daughter, Cersei, as wife for the crown prince. Aerys II rejected this proposal brusquely, informing Lord Tywin that he was a good and valuable servant, yet a servant nonetheless. Nor did His Grace agree to appoint Lord Tywin's son Jaime as squire to Prince Rhaegar; that honor he granted instead to the sons of several of his own favorites, men known to be no friends of House Lannister or the Hand. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

Lord Denys, seeing that Aerys's erratic behavior had begun to strain his relations with Lord Tywin, refused to pay the taxes expected of him and instead invited the king to come to Duskendale and hear his petition. It seems most unlikely that King Aerys would ever have considered accepting this invitation...until Lord Tywin advised him to refuse in the strongest possible terms, whereupon the king decided to accept, informing Grand Maester Pycelle and the small council that he meant to settle this matter himself and bring the defiant Darklyn to heel. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

Garth the Gross on the small council and his two bastards in the gold cloaks ... do the Tyrells think I will just serve the realm up to them on a gilded platter? The arrogance of it took her breath away.

“Garth has served me well as Lord Seneschal, as he served my father before me,” Tyrell was going on. “Littlefinger had a nose for gold, I grant you, but Garth—”

“My lord,” Cersei broke in, “I fear there has been some misunderstanding. I have asked Lord Gyles Rosby to serve as our new master of coin, and he has done me the honor of accepting.”

Mace gaped at her. “Rosby? That ... cougher? But ... the matter was agreed, Your Grace. Garth is on his way to Oldtown.”

“Best send a raven to Lord Hightower and ask him to make certain your uncle does not take ship. We would hate for Garth to brave an autumn sea for nought.” She smiled pleasantly.

A flush crept up Tyrell’s thick neck. “This ... your lord father assured me ...” (AFFC Cersei II)

~

Cersei had named her cousin Damion Lannister her castellan for the Rock, and another cousin, Ser Daven Lannister, the Warden of the West. Insolence has its price, Uncle. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“I have been remiss. With a realm to rule, a war to fight, and a father to mourn, somehow I overlooked the crucial matter of naming a new master-at-arms. I shall rectify that error at once.”

Ser Loras pushed back a brown curl that had fallen across his forehead. “Your Grace will not find any man half so skilled with sword and lance as I.”

Humble, aren’t we? “Tommen is your king, not your squire. You are to fight for him and die for him, if need be. No more.”

She left him on the drawbridge that spanned the dry moat with its bed of iron spikes and entered Maegor’s Holdfast alone. Where am I to find a master-at-arms? she wondered as she climbed to her apartments. [...]

Aron Santagar was Dornish, Cersei recalled. I could send to Dorne. Centuries of blood and war lay between Sunspear and Highgarden. Yes, a Dornishman might suit my needs admirably. There must be some good swords in Dorne. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

He had even had the temerity to object to her sending to Dorne for a master-at-arms, on the grounds that it might offend the Tyrells. “Why do you think I’m doing it?” she had asked him scornfully. (AFFC Cersei VI)

~

“Your Grace, let me take Dragonstone.”

[...] No one had given Cersei such a lovely gift since Sansa Stark had run to her to divulge Lord Eddard’s plans. She was pleased to see that Margaery had gone pale. “Your courage takes my breath away, Ser Loras. [...] Swear to me that you shall not return until Dragonstone is Tommen’s.”

“I shall, Your Grace.” He rose.

[...] Pycelle had to struggle to keep up. “If it please Your Grace,” he puffed, “young men are overbold, and think only of the glory of battle and never of its dangers. Ser Loras ... this plan of his is fraught with peril. To storm the very walls of Dragonstone ...”

“... is very brave. [...] I have no doubt that our Knight of Flowers will be the first man to gain the battlements.” And perhaps the first to fall. (AFFC Cersei VII)

Dany doesn't do this; instead, she makes plenty of concessions to appease her influential allies, from wearing the tokar to marrying Hizdahr by Ghiscari rites if he gives her ninety days of peace to allowing Hizdahr to reopen the fighting pits to accepting a deal between Meereen and Yunkai that allows the latter to reinstall slavery. All of these decisions are ultimately mistakes since they unwittingly prioritize the privileges of the former masters over the rights of the former slaves, but they still show that Dany is capable of making alliances in a way that Aerys II and Cersei aren't due to their black and white thinking.

Both are extravagant rulers who plan grand schemes that are never realized

Aerys II:

His Grace was full of grand schemes as well. Not long after his coronation, he announced his intent to conquer the Stepstones and make them a part of his realm for all time. In 264 AC, a visit to King's Landing by Lord Rickard Stark of Winterfell awakened his interest in the North, and he hatched a plan to build a new Wall a hundred leagues north of the existing one and claim all the lands between. In 265 AC, offended by "the stink of King's Landing," he spoke of building a "white city" entirely of marble on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush. In 267 AC, after a dispute with the Iron Bank of Braavos regarding certain monies borrowed by his father, he announced that he would build the largest war fleet in the history of the world "to bring the Titan to his knees." In 270 AC, during a visit to Sunspear, he told the Princess of Dorne that he would "make the Dornish deserts bloom" by digging a great underground canal beneath the mountains to bring water down from the rainwood.

None of these grandiose plans ever came to fruition; most, indeed, were forgotten within a moon's turn, for Aerys II seemed to grow bored with his royal enthusiasms as quickly as he did his royal paramours. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Would that we could do the same to the rest of this foul castle,” said Cersei. “After the war I mean to build a new palace beyond the river.” She had dreamed of it the night before last, a magnificent white castle surrounded by woods and gardens, long leagues from the stinks and noise of King’s Landing. “This city is a cesspit. For half a groat I would move the court to Lannisport and rule the realm from Casterly Rock.” (AFFC Cersei III)

~

A group of merchants appeared before her to beg the throne to intercede for them with the Iron Bank of Braavos. The Braavosi were demanding repayment of their outstanding debts, it seemed, and refusing all new loans. We need our own bank, Cersei decided, the Golden Bank of Lannisport. (AFFC Cersei VIII)

That's not the case with Dany either. Throughout her reign, she only makes reasonable and attainable decisions to improve Meereen's economy, such as planting grapes, beans and wheat, replanting olive trees, making an alliance with the Lhazareen and freeing the slaves of the hinterlands to bring crops to the city.

Both are unpopular with the common people

Aerys II: (note that Tywin himself is unpopular with the smallfolk)

They cheered Father twice as loudly as they cheered the king, the queen recalled, but only half as loudly as they cheered Prince Rhaegar. (AFFC Cersei V)

Cersei:

As she made her way through the ragged throng, past their cookfires, wagons, and crude shelters, the queen found herself remembering another crowd that had once gathered on this plaza. The day she wed Robert Baratheon, thousands had turned out to cheer for them. [...]

No one was smiling now. The looks the sparrows gave her were dull, sullen, hostile. They made way but reluctantly. (AFFC Cersei VI)

~

Thrice that day she heard the sound of distant shouting drifting up from the plaza, but it was Margaery’s name that the mob was calling, not hers. (AFFC Cersei X)

We have yet to see how the common people in Westeros will view Dany, but she is very popular among freedmen and slaves from all over Essos, so she doesn't fit this either.

Both feel threatened by the shadow of Tywin Lannister

Aerys II:

By this time, King Aerys had become aware of the widespread belief that he himself was but a hollow figurehead and Tywin Lannister the true master of the Seven Kingdoms. These sentiments greatly angered the king, and His Grace became determined to disprove them and to humble his "overmighty servant" and "put him back into his place." (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“Lord Tywin was a great man, an extraordinary man,” he declared ponderously after he had kissed both her cheeks. “We shall never see his like again, I fear.”

You are looking at his like, fool, Cersei thought. It is his daughter standing here before you. (AFFC Cersei II)

~

She was tired of Jaime balking her. No one had ever balked her lord father. When Tywin Lannister spoke, men obeyed. When Cersei spoke, they felt free to counsel her, to contradict her, even refuse her. (AFFC Cersei V)

This is not a perfect parallel because Cersei alternates between hero-worshiping and drawing inspiration and strength from Tywin to resenting the control he had over her, so much so that she lists her father alongside her enemies and takes pleasure in the fact that he's now dead. Even so, both Aerys II and Cersei feel that they were owed the treatment that people gave Tywin.

This doesn't happen with Dany because she doesn't feel threatened by anyone nor does Tywin play an important role in her story.

Both feel threatened by a younger, more beautiful, more popular would-be king/queen

Aerys II:

The cheers of the crowd were said to be deafening, but King Aerys did not join them. Far from being proud and pleased by his heir's skill at arms, His Grace saw it as a threat. Lords Chelsted and Staunton inflamed his suspicions further, declaring that Prince Rhaegar had entered the lists to curry favor with the commons and remind the assembled lords that he was a puissant warrior, a true heir to Aegon the Conqueror. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

The lickspittle lords who surrounded Aerys II had gained much and more from the king's madness and eagerly seized upon any opportunity to speak ill of Prince Rhaegar and inflame the father's suspicions of the son. (TWOIAF The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring)

~

Meanwhile, King Aerys was becoming ever more estranged from his own son and heir. Early in the year 279 AC, Rhaegar Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, was formally betrothed to Princess Elia Martell, the delicate young sister of Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne. They were wed the following year, in a lavish ceremony at the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing, but Aerys II did not attend. He told the small council that he feared an attempt upon his life if he left the confines of the Red Keep, even with his Kingsguard to protect him. Nor would he allow his younger son, Viserys, to attend his brother's wedding. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

~

The memory was still bitter. Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent's tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together. Aerys had not set foot outside the Red Keep since Duskendale, yet suddenly he announced that he would accompany Prince Rhaegar to Harrenhal, and everything had gone awry from there. (ADWD The Kingbreaker)

Cersei:

Her mood was not improved when Mace Tyrell arose to lead the toasts. He raised a golden goblet high, smiling at his pretty little daughter, and in a booming voice said, “To the king and queen!” The other sheep all baaaaaaed along with him. “The king and queen!” they cried, smashing their cups together. “The king and queen!” She had no choice but to drink along with them, all the time wishing that the guests had but a single face, so she could throw her wine into their eyes and remind them that she was the true queen. (AFFC Cersei III)

~

“Your Grace, she ... she is the queen ...”

“I am the queen. (AFFC Cersei IX)

~

It was a pity that Maggy the Frog was dead. Piss on your prophecy, old woman. The little queen may be younger than I, but she has never been more beautiful, and soon she will be dead. (AFFC Cersei IX)

Cersei's case is more justified in that she believes that, by defeating the YMBQ, she'll also prevent her children from dying and the valonqar from killing her.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Both lost a child (children, in Aerys’s case) and fear for the safety of their remaining child (children, in Cersei’s case) to the point that these concerns become intertwined with their fears that someone is out to get them

Aerys II:

The birth of Prince Viserys only seemed to make Aerys II more fearful and obsessive, however. Though the new young princeling seemed healthy enough, the king was terrified lest he suffer the same fate as his brothers. Kingsguard knights were commanded to stand over him night and day to see that no one touched the boy without the king's leave. Even the queen herself was forbidden to be alone with the infant. When her milk dried up, Aerys insisted on having his own food taster suckle at the teats of the prince's wet nurse, to ascertain that the woman had not smeared poison on her nipples. As gifts for the young prince arrived from all the lords of the Seven Kingdoms, the king had them piled in the yard and burned, for fear that some of them might have been ensorcelled or cursed. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

I am dreaming still, Cersei thought. I have not woken, nor has my nightmare ended. Tyrion will creep out from under the bed soon and begin to laugh at me.

[...] A dream, that’s all it was, a dream. I drank too much last night, these fears are only humors born of wine. I will be the one laughing, come dusk. My children will be safe, Tommen’s throne will be secure, and my twisted little valonqar will be short a head and rotting. (AFFC Cersei I)

~

Cersei had a sudden vision of the dwarf crawling out from behind a tapestry in Tommen’s bedchamber with blade in hand. Tommen is well guarded, she told herself. But Lord Tywin had been well guarded too. (AFFC Cersei I)

~

The younger queen whose coming she’d foretold was finished, and if that prophecy could fail, so could the rest. No golden shrouds, no valonqar, I am free of your croaking malice at last. (AFFC Cersei X)

Like in the previous parallel, Cersei's bad reactions are more justified due to the fact that prophecies come true in her world and due to her understandable sense of self-preservation.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Both had unhappy marriages and believed that their spouses weren’t the right ones for them

Aerys II:

What Tywin Lannister made of this is not recorded, but in 266 AC, at Casterly Rock, Lady Joanna gave birth to a pair of twins, a girl and a boy, "healthy and beautiful, with hair like beaten gold." This birth only exacerbated the tension between Aerys II Targaryen and his Hand. "I appear to have married the wrong woman," His Grace was reported to have said, when informed of the happy event. (TWOIAF The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II)

Cersei:

“...Your father will find another man for you, a better man than Rhaegar.”

Her aunt had lied, though, and her father had failed her, just as Jaime was failing her now. Father found no better man. Instead he gave me Robert, and Maggy’s curse bloomed like some poisonous flower. If she had only married Rhaegar as the gods intended, he would never have looked twice at the wolf girl. Rhaegar would be our king today and I would be his queen, the mother of his sons.

She had never forgiven Robert for killing him. (AFFC Cersei V)

The major difference in this parallel, of course, is that Aerys raped his wife and Cersei was raped by her husband.

This doesn't happen with Dany.

Comparisons in the text between Aerys II and Cersei

"Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies."

"Now you sound like Aerys."

Her nostrils flared. "Guard your tongue, ser." (AFFC Cersei III)

~

Jaime knew the look in his sister's eyes. He had seen it before, most recently on the night of Tommen's wedding, when she burned the Tower of the Hand. The green light of the wildfire had bathed the face of the watchers, so they looked like nothing so much as rotting corpses, a pack of gleeful ghouls, but some of the corpses were prettier than others. Even in the baleful glow, Cersei had been beautiful to look upon. She'd stood with one hand on her breast, her lips parted, her green eyes shining. She is crying, Jaime had realized, but whether it was from grief or ecstasy he could not have said.

The sight had filled him with disquiet, reminding him of Aerys Targaryen and the way a burning would arouse him. (AFFC Jaime II)

~

"Westeros is torn and bleeding, and I do not doubt that even now my sweet sister is binding up the wounds … with salt. Cersei is as gentle as King Maegor, as selfless as Aegon the Unworthy, as wise as Mad Aerys. She never forgets a slight, real or imagined. She takes caution for cowardice and dissent for defiance. And she is greedy. Greedy for power, for honor, for love. Tommen's rule is bolstered by all of the alliances that my lord father built so carefully, but soon enough she will destroy them, every one.” (ADWD Tyrion VI)

Again, as I said above, the comparisons between Cersei and Aerys II come from two of the people who have known Cersei the longest (Jaime, Tyrion).

Meanwhile, Dany is only called the Mad King’s daughter by her enemies (the slavers and Mace Tyrell). The characters who actually know her and the characters who have nothing to gain by defaming her (Barristan, Tyrion, Illyrio, Quentyn) reiterate that she’s nothing like him.

[mysticalrambling]

Love Conquers All (The Originals)

Part 10

Part 10/10

(Y/N) means your name and (Y/LN) means your last name.

Warnings: none. Angst and fluff all the way.

Summary: Dad!Klaus. (Y/N) finds out that you are pregnant and runs away from Klaus. After five years of avoiding him, Freya discovers your secret and it will all be revealed in time. At last, love will conquer all.

._._._._.

Today was the day that the plan would be put in to action and to say the least, you were on edge. To put a cherry on top, Hope was being extremely difficult. Miss Hope thought that she was a big girl now and can pick out her own clothes. The rustic orange t shirt with an emerald skirt was the best outfit that she could come up with. However, the only problem was that you couldn’t let your daughter roam around wearing that monstrosity.

“Hope Andrea Mikaelson, listen to your mother!” Klaus knew that you were already stressed out and was on the verge of crying. You all stood in shock the moment those words left his lips.

“Mikaelson is not my last name.”Taking her elephant dummy out, she voiced her confusion. You knew that you sometimes had to tell her that she was a Mikaelson. Sure, she knew that Klaus was her dad but she didn’t know the depths of that sentence.

“Hope, your dad’s last name is Mikaelson and he would really like you to take it as your last name.”You gently rocked the little girl in your arms and tears welled up when you realised she will outgrow your arms in just a few years. She was getting so big and you didn’t know how you felt about that.

“I am okay with it if you also change your name.”

“I don’t thin-” “She would love to.” Both of you spoke up at the same time and then looked at each other. You wanted to become his wife from the moment you met him but you didn’t know if things had changed. Maybe it was still the same. You bribed your child with some chocolates and she wore the pastel pink dress that you had initially picked out for her.

The drive to Mystical Falls was uncomfortable to say the least. Hope’s voice was the only thing cutting the thick silence in the car and when she fell asleep in her booster seat, you just tuned in to the radio. Daliah was tracking Hope and you had to use your daughter as a bait. No one liked it but it was a necessity.

“You need to stay in this car with our daughter.”

“No way. I am coming with.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you were going to open the car door but his hand stopped you mid movement. He made a valid point when he tells you that Hope could not be left unprotected.

Davina and Freya were already there and were quietly preparing for the ritual. Klaus knew that there was roughly twenty minutes to set the plan into motion before Aunt Daliah arrives. At the last moment, Kol went with Elijah because Hope got sick again and she only wanted to cuddle with her dad. You protested, saying that she was being spoiled and it would not end well for anyone. Safe to say, everyone ignored you. Now both of the brothers were on their way with the knife.

“Who is ready to kill some family members?” Clapping his hands together, a devious grin appeared on his thin lips. If he was not careful, the old Klaus might just make an appearance. That might not be such a bad thing.

“I am. The only thing that you need to know is that I will yield the knife and-”

“But why do you get to do the most important part?” Klaus interjected as Freya got to explain a new part of the plan.

“Stop interrupting me for once. I will use the knife because only a witch can activate it and you get to kill her.” Shaking her head, she continued,”Elijah and Kol will hold her down and you would simply finish the job.”

“And what about your two minions?”Nudging his head in to the direction, Klaus scrutinized them under a smug look.

“They are going to make sure that our beloved aunt does not get out of this circle. She will be weak inside it and we will have enough time to finish her off, for good this time.”

Meanwhile, procuring the knife was not a difficult task for the Mikaelson men and they arrived at their final destination in no tome. Aunt Daliah followed suit and the moment she saw Klaus standing with a girl in the middle of the field, she peed walked towards them. She didn’t even realise that she was entering a circle.

“You are a foolish boy for inflicting the same pain on your daughter just like your parents once did." The moment she step foot in the circle, the small figure beside you disappeared. It was an illusion.

"Unlike you, he is not cruel." Freya showed up behind her and stabbed her worst nightmare in the back. Literally. "Klaus, now."

He quickly retracted his fangs but Daliah quickly regained some of her composure. She threw Freya out of the circle with a magical force and was knocked unconscious when her head hit a boulder. Kol and Elijah came into assist their brother but she quickly snapped their necks with a flick of her wrist.

Suddenly, you started to hear commotion and when you tuned in your hearing, you instantly knew everything was going wrong. Speed walking through the land, you instantly went to aid your boyfriend.

"Hurry up, guys. We can not keep her in the circle for much longer."Davina called out as they kept chanting with difficulty.

"The circle isn't helping much, love." He choked out as Daliah suspended you and Klaus in to the air. You struggled to breathe as your throat constricted in a painful manner. "Let's talk in a peaceful manner, please."

None of you noticed Hope sneaking from behind because she heard her parents voices in the car. Seeing the two most important people of her life, she didn't know what came over her. It was like something snapped.

"Leave my parents alone!" The little girl screamed as a magic blast erupted from her. Knocking her great aunt out of the circle, she released her parents from Daliah's death grip.

"Hope, get away from her. Right now!" You didn't care about anyone except your daughter. Klaus started to get up from his place to protect his little girl but he was too weak.

"It's okay, mommy. I just have to concentrate really hard." Hope reassured you and before you could protest, she started mumbling something.

Aunt Daliah started screaming incoherently as blood oozed from her eyes and nose. Both of you were horrified when you saw your daughter like this. No one could imagine an innocent girl like her could do something like this. Daliah started choking on her own blood and in a few seconds, her heart stopped beating.

"Hope." breathlessly, you didn't know what to say. All these years, you thought you were protecting her from all this. But this was a part of her and she had to embrace it as well.

She slowly approached you and Klaus and you softly embraced her. "I am so proud of you, baby."

"You are my daughter, for sure." Laughing wholeheartedly, Klaus took you both in his arms. "Now, lets go home. My siblings will find their way home by night.'

"Stop it. Help me load them in the car." Finally, this was all over and now you can focus on your family. This was your time to be happy and nothing could change that. No one will ruin it this time. It was a promise. Always and Forever.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!! Like, comment and reblog.

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A/N : There will be an epilogue but this series has comes to an end. Really enjoyed writing this. When I first came up with the plot I really didn’t wasn't sure if I wanted to complete it. Thank you to each one of you for giving your love and support to this series. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

If you want to send blurb requests based on the series (dad!Klaus) I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. I would love it❤️

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[tooweirdforyou]

Straw Hats With A Shipmate! Who Lost Someone Special

A/N : For anyone who has lost someone dear to them, whether it was recently or long ago, it’ll be okay. There are times where we either hate ourselves, hold regret, or refuse to accept the reality, but no matter what, we have to accept the truth. These things happen and we have to deal with it. I know some of us like to bottle these feelings up instead of letting it all out. But I just want to say that it’s okay to let it out. Don’t keep the pain to yourself because it’s not going to make things better. Let it all out and bring peace to yourself some day. Everything will be okay.

Warning : mentions of death, negative, heartbreaking thoughts, etc. + MARINEFORD SPOILERS.

Note : I don’t expect you to read this, nor do I expect you to appreciate this. I don’t know my readers, so I don’t know how sensitive some of you are. I don’t normally write this kind of stuff either, hopefully this is the only time you’ll see this.

of course this will have a sweet ending.

This is also pretty long.

Summary : The crew witnesses their crew mate’s loss of a loved one, and notice that their shipmate is acting as if everything’s fine. They won’t accept that.

-

Everything was peaceful.

The crew was just sailing around the seas for a bit, enjoying their time together after two years apart from each other.

After Fishman Island, the others were just taking a breather and relaxing.

However, you knew that your home island was nearby. 

You wanted to visit it, which the crew agreed, since it let them experience your island and perhaps learn about where you came from.

Unfortunately, you didn’t know how horrible things have been since you were gone.

Nor did you ever expect to see someone so dear to you, die right before your eyes.

-

When you docked at the island, instead of a warm aura and a homely greeting from the civilians, the island was in ruins.

There was hardly anybody around, and the people that were still there, were all weak and barely alive.

Nothing was right, nor was anything left. Buildings in ruin and destroyed, fields and trees of the forests were burned and there was blood shed all over the ground.

Nothing could be seen but blood. It was truly a horrific sight to be seen.

The crew mates all stare at the sight in horror and shock.

After hearing your stories of how beautiful and amazing the island was and how kind the people were, they were definitely not expecting to see the opposite it was.

“Oi, this isn’t anything like you described. You sure we’re on the right island?” Luffy mindlessly comments, the others staring at Luffy like he was an idiot, Usopp clearly stating it aloud. “Oi, Luffy! Don’t say things so bluntly!”

You, ahead of the group and had an expression of fear and horror written all over, just snap back into reality and turn to Luffy, seeing the others staring at you.

“..I was thinking the same, Luffy.” You weakly smile as a forceful chuckle escaped your lips, you rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. “I guess things can change when time passes.”

“Maybe we are on the wrong island..”

You weren’t. You knew you weren’t. This was the place where you were born and raised.

Although it was completely destroyed, you recognized some of what was left in the rubble, even some of the old people that were barely hanging on.

Your words were heard, the others noticed how quiet it was and already understood the truth. Something happened while you were away from home, and it wasn’t good from the looks of it.

“[Name]-chan... we don’t have to-“ Sanji starts but you only smile lightly at the crew. “It’s fine. Before we go back to the ship,.. can we look around a bit? It’ll be quick.”

They knew what you meant and what you wanted to do, all of them nodding. “Of course, take as long as you need. There’s no rush.” Robin assures softly, Nami nodding in agreement. “We’re here if you need anything.”

You nod at them and continue to lead the group through the streets, them following you in silence as Luffy kept his eyes on you.

You heard some of the groans and noise of discomfort and pain from the ones who were on the brink of death, your head lowering down as you bit your lip, trying to ignore them.

As much as you wanted to run to them and help them any way you can, you somehow already knew it was useless.

Whatever happened while you were gone, it was too damaging to be fixed. The many bodies that were spread across the town made sure of that.

In the back with the crew, you hear Brook, Usopp and Chopper freaking out every once in a while at the sight of the bodies, Sanji and Nami mentioning about feeling a bit sick and just shocked at the sight of them, while Franky, Luffy, Robin and Zoro all stare silently, many thoughts running through their head.

There was one thought they all had in common.

Just what the hell happened?

You continue to walk with your head down, before noticing an all too familiar house and look up, beginning to jog over towards it, a hopeful look in your eyes.

“W-Wait, [Name]!” Usopp calls at the others try to catch up. You ignore him and sprint towards what was left of the home and slam the door open accidentally.

“[ Special Someone ]!” You call out a bit too loudly, looking out frantically for them. “[ Special Someone ]! It’s [Name]!”

A small hum could be heard in another room, you rushing over just as the others arrived at the home.

You ran over and widen your eyes at the sight of them. [ Special Someone ] was leaning against the wall, breathing slow with many cuts and dried blood all over them.

Their clothes stained with the red liquid and the entire house was a wreck, with smashed furniture and shattered glass all over.

“[ Special Someone ]!” You shout in disbelief and horror, unable to process anything as you lunge yourself to the one person who was always by your side.

“[Name]..?..” they breathed out, weakly forcing themselves to sit upright more, you aiding them carefully, as their arms rested in their lap.

“Wow.. I can’t believe it.. how.. lucky.. I get to see you?..” [ Special Someone ] coughs out roughly, spitting a bit of blood out onto their hand as they did so making you even more shocked.

The crew enters the room with eyes wide as saucers. “[Name]?” Nami questions, mouth gaped at the sight of you kneeling beside a person on the brink of death.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you turn to Chopper pleadingly. “Chopper, please, help them!” You cry out with a shout, Chopper’s teary shocked eyes widening more as he nods quickly and rushed over with his bag.

Chopper sits on the other side of [ Special Someone ], opening his bag and grabbing out the proper supplies.

“[Na..me].. stop, I’m fine. There’s nothing.. you can do.” They insisted, turning to Chopper with a weak smile. “A rein..deer?.. how cute..” Chopper didn’t say anything as he continued to do his work, quickly examining the injuries they had before patching them up.

“Shut up, [ Special Someone ], Chopper’s going to help you, okay?! Now, tell me who did this to you?” You say, clasping their hand in yours as they cough once more and tilt their head back.

The others could only watch in silence with sad, concerned or pitiful looks at the sight, assuming that this person was someone so dear to you. They didn’t know who it was but they knew enough.

“... Marines..”

Everyone tensed at the word, a few of them in disbelief. Marines did this?

You didn’t say anything, your grip on their hand tightening as you chew on your inner cheek. “Marines, huh?...”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long ago did this happen?” Robin cautiously and slowly asks, [ Special Someone ] looking up at her.

They look away and flinch at bit at Chopper’s work as they whisper out an answer. “.. one week.”

No one expected that. Everyone’s eyes widened even more. One week!?

“S-seriously?! This happened one week ago?!” Brook shouts incredulously, Usopp trembling in his shoes. “T-This happened while we were on our way here?!”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your body frozen and completely lost in thought. This..happened.. in a week?..

You.. You could have done something.. if you just got here faster? You could have prevented all of this, if you just arrived sooner?

No, you couldn’t blame yourself. How could you have known? You weren’t at fault, right? Right?

“[Name]. It’s okay..” [ Special Someone ] turns to you with the all too familiar smile of theirs, it was a weak one, but it was still the same.

“Fate has it twisted sometimes, but it’s never wrong. If fate had this in its destined path for me, then I have to accept it. If I must die, I’m happy to have died being able to see you one last time.” They managed to speak out in one breath, forcing their smile wider.

[ Special Someone ] notices Chopper moving away from him slowly with saddened and regretful eyes. They knew the result and reason for it already.

You chose to ignore their words and scoff, feeling tears brimming your eyes. “Stop talking like that, it’s not time for you yet. It’s not too late. Right Chopper?!” You look up with teary eyes at the small reindeer.

“You can save them, right!? It’s not too late!”

Chopper would look down, pulling his hat down to cover his face as his lips trembled and quivered a bit. “[Name], I—“

“Chopper! You’re supposed to be the best doctor I know, so please, tell me it’s not too late!” You cried out, turning to look at the others.

The others already knew the answer too just from the look of Chopper and how weak [ Special Someone ] was quickly getting.

“Franky? Usopp? Zoro?” You call out to them, receiving no answer and just sad looks of pity and sorrow.

“Luffy!” You call out to your captain desperately, seeing his head tilted down with his hat shadowing his face.

“Everyone.. WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME?!” Confusion ran over you, too worried and afraid to face the truth and have any sense.

Nami stares at you with her own tears threatening to fall, already knowing what was going to happen.

Chopper grips his hat tightly as he stares down, tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping to the floor.

Sanji couldn’t stare at you, his eyes closing shut as he wished he could help you somehow.

Franky looks at you with a frown placed on his lips, staying silent because he thought it was best to remain so.

If Brook had eyes, he’d stare with sorrow and tears as well, also remaining quiet.

Zoro just shut his eyes, almost unable to watch you looking at them so desperately and pleadingly.

Robin looks a bit pitifully, sad eyes washing over her and over at you and your teary form.

Usopp felt tears threatening to stream down his cheeks as well, feeling regret and sadness for you, hands clenched tightly into fists.

Finally, Luffy still held no reaction, arms at his side, head still lowered. But he was trying hard not to get angry or tear up himself, this reminding him of Ace’s death a bit.

“[Name].. it’s too late.. I’ve already lost a lot of blood and my wounds are.. too hurt to be healed.. the damage is done..” [ Special Someone ] breathes out, a small smile forming on their lips.

“[ Special Someone ]... what are you saying?.. I..”

“[Name]..”

“Stop..” you look down, your hair covering your eyes as your lip quivered.

“I’m thankful you found people to keep you company..” they turn to the crew with a soft smile.

“Stop it..” you whispered, teardrops slowly falling.

“Thank you for taking care of [Name].”

The crew only smiled sadly at [ Special Someone ].

“STOP TALKING, ITS NOT TOO LATE FOR YOU!” You cry out loudly, tears finally falling down your cheeks as you shouted. “[ SPECIAL SOMEONE ]!”

[ Special Someone ] only leans their head back and their breathing only shallows as they slowly lean down into your arms.

A small smile formed on their lips as they whisper out through your cries.

“I’m sorry... and thank you... [Name].”

“[ SPECIAL SOMEONE ]!”

Your scream and sobs filled the entire island as you clutched their body close to yours, eyes shut and cheeks soaked with tears as the tears drops fell onto their slowly dying body.

The crew watched silently, feeling their heart ache and sting at the sight of you sobbing and desperately clinging into whatever was left of your precious childhood memory.

-

Later that same night, after you were left alone to make a proper burial for [ Special Someone ], you returned to the crew, who sat waiting in the small home in silence.

“Everyone..”

Your voice would bring their attention to you and see the weak smile settled across your lips. “I’m sorry for wasting your time!... we can set sail now.”

They would be shocked to say the least. How could you ever think you were wasting their time? Much less, after such a traumatic and shocking event just hours prior.

“[Name], what do you mean? You weren’t wasting-“ You interrupt Usopp with a small forced chuckle.

“It’s okay, it was my fault. I should’ve known there wasn’t a point to come to this island, it’s kind of pointless considering how rundown and ruined it is now.”

“Wait, what’s going on, don’t you feel upset at all?” Nami asks with furrowed brows as she stands up to look at you.

You stare at her with a bit of wide eyes before closing them slowly and put on a big and bright smile.

Your words shocked them and made them speechless. They didn’t know what to say.

“Of course not! About what? There’s nothing to be upset about at all!”

Not even Luffy was sure what to say to that.

So it led them to heading to the ship to set sail the next early morning.

-

One day.

One day since the crew witness you experiencing and watching the death of a loved one right before your eyes.

Yet, here you were, all smiling and laughing in front of them, as if nothing happened at all. You were making jokes and trying to make the others laugh as well.

But they weren’t.

Sure, they gave sad smiles to you, a few of them offering weak or forced laughs in addition, but they couldn’t understand why you were acting like this.

Were you afraid to seem weak in front of them?

They weren’t sure but they knew something was up. But seeing you be so joyful as if nothing happened was too heartbreaking for them to say anything.

-

Three days.

Three days have gone by since the day you had witness the death of a loved one.

The crew was getting worried for you. They assumed maybe you were trying to be positive and remain happy in front of the crew, or maybe you really were over the death you witnessed first-hand but that was proven wrong just this morning.

The early morning, Sanji was getting ready to prepare breakfast when he heard noises in the aquarium lounge.

Confused, Sanji takes a peek in the room to see your shaking form, your back facing the doorway as you were curled up, hugging your knees.

He could hear your quiet cries as you hid your face into your knees, thinking you were alone to finally let it out.

Sanji could feel his heart break seeing you all alone, but as much as he wanted to comfort you, he knew it was better to leave you alone. Especially since you were acting like nothing was wrong just yesterday.

But he told the crew.

“I didn’t go up to them, out of respect for their privacy.” Sanji exhales, puff of smoke exiting his lips.

The others listened in silence to Sanji’s explanation of what he saw this morning.

Silence was brought upon the crew.

“..So they’ve been holding it in all this time.” Nami mumbles quietly, eyes saddening at the thought of how much you kept to yourself to keep up such a happy facade.

Thinking about how much you were struggling inside broke her heart.

“I can’t imagine how hard they’re struggling right now.” Brook spoke softly, looking down at the table.

Chopper had tears in his eyes at the thought. “[Name] is going through a lot and—! And we’re not there for them!” He cried out.

“What should we do now that we know what’s really going on these past few days?” Robin questions aloud, the question going through all their heads.

Zoro turns his head over to Luffy, who had been the most quiet ever since they ship left your island.

He was observant so he was watching your fake smiles closely and knew too well that you weren’t over it.

You were hiding yourself, and your feelings from the crew.

But hearing Sanji’s explanation of what he saw, seeing you all alone and crying to yourself made him fill with rage yet, also regret for not being there for his shipmate.

“DAMN IT!”

Luffy’s fist made contact with the wooden table roughly, almost breaking it into two as Luffy growls loudly. “HOW COULD THEY JUST KEEP IT ALL TO THEIR SELF?! WE’RE THEIR FRIENDS RIGHT?! WHY DON’T THEY JUST TELL IS SO WE CAN BE THERE FOR THEM?!”

“Luffy!” The others widen their eyes at Luffy’s outburst but they couldn’t exactly disagree with him.

Why didn’t you just tell them the truth of your feelings instead of putting on such a fake act? Didn’t you trust them at all?

“Luffy, you have to understand. It could be hard for [Name] to share this with us! They’re still grieving, so give it time. Okay?” Nami tries to calm down their Captain but it was no use. He wasn’t listening.

“I don’t care!” Luffy shouts, frustration building up. “We’re supposed to be friends, damn it, so why can’t they just tell us how they feel instead of being so positive all the time? It won’t change what happened, but coming to us so we can be there for them can help! That’s what we’re here for!”

“Just calm down! When [Name] is ready, I’m sure they’ll come talk to us. So settle down already and be patient!” Zoro shouts back, having enough of this.

He too was concerned and also frustrated with you for not talking with them but it wasn’t their choice.

It was yours, and they couldn’t do anything but be there when you were ready.

-

Five days.

[ Special Someone ], the person who always brought you joy.. comfort.. laughter.. and made sure you were the best you that you could be.

They stuck with you through all your ups and downs, all your pains and sorrows, all your anger, complaints and hatred..

Even with all your flaws, [ Special Someone ] never left your side once, always sacrificing themselves for your well-being.

Always making sure you were healthy, eating well, sleeping well, had fresh food and clothes everyday, and ensured that you could live with peace and not a worry in the world.

So why?

Why was someone so selfless, generous, caring, kind... why was someone like that not given the privilege to stay alive? How could someone like them die? After everything they did for you, why was it them and no one else?

Why? Why.. why did they have to die?

You turn onto your side on the bed, hands clenching the bedsheet as you thought about the same thing every day and night, the scene of them dying right in your arms replaying over and over for you every time you shut your eyes.

“Why?..”

Hugging your pillow tightly, you glance at the time on the wall and sigh, deciding to get up to greet the crew.

You sit up and get up from your bed, dusting your clothes and began getting ready, making sure you looked decent enough to show yourself to the others, before finally stepping out of the room.

When you finally step out, you see the whole crew on the main deck, doing whatever it is they do.

They immediately all turn to you when they heard footsteps. You look at them and blink softly before smiling brightly and waved. “M-Morning, you guys!”

‘Shit- please don’t have noticed that..’ you thought, hoping they didn’t notice your voice having cracked a bit.

It was quiet as they continued to stare at you, before Brook interrupts it.

“Yohohoho~... it’s the afternoon, [Name]-san..”

Your eyes widen a bit at your mistake. Did you really stay in bed for that long?

“Oh.. is it? I must’ve overslept..” you lightly laugh to ease the growing tension you felt but no one said anything in response.

“..[Name]-san.. have you been crying?” Robin questions softly, a small frown present on her face. Her question startles you as you shake your head immediately.

“What do you mean, Robin? I’m fine, I haven’t been crying at all.” Instinctively, you began wiping your eyes with your sleeves, which already sent answers to the crew.

“Seriously, what’s with you guys today? You’ve all been acting strange for a while.” You smile softly and pull at your sleeps.

“Maybe you guys just need a little adventure. Maybe-“

“Shut the hell up.”

Shocked, you turn to Zoro at his sudden blunt burst from the railing.

“Zoro!” Nami and Usopp hisses beside him, quietly scolding him for being so rude at the moment, making Zoro scoff.

“I’m rude? They just accused us for acting strange the past couple of days. I don’t disagree with them about us being a bit different lately, but they’re the one who’s been acting the strangest out of all of us. And you all know this too. Am I wrong?”

While you visibly flinch at his words, Nami and Usopp faltered a bit and looked away. “Still..”

“Zoro’s right.” Luffy, who had been quiet ever since two days ago when Sanji told them about your moment in the Aquarium Bar.

“Luffy?” Chopper questions softly from a distance, looking at their captain.

Luffy looks up and glares hard at you.

Behind his hard glare was a very faint soft expression with hurt eyes. Hurt, knowing that his shipmate was suffering and he couldn’t do anything to help them. Until now.

“Tell us the truth, [Name].” Luffy’s tone made your breath hitch from how serious he sounded. It wasn’t like a friend, it was like a captain. “Do you hate us?”

Your eyes widen at his question and you looked at him incredulously. “What? Of course not.” You immediately answered, brows furrowed.

That answer was obvious, so why did he ask?

“Okay. Are you happy with the crew?” He asks again, and you just stare at him in confusion. “I’m happy. I’ve always been.”

“...are you keeping secrets from us?”

All eyes were on you as you close your mouth and bit your tongue from saying more.

You stare at Luffy and tried to decipher what was going through his mind before closing your eyes.

“Not at all.”

“I thought our captain told you to tell the truth.” Zoro says instantly after your reply and you bit your lip slightly. “I did.”

“[Name]-chan..” Sanji sighs softly at your denial and stubbornness before Usopp frowns and spoke. “[Name]... I can tell when you’re lying and..”

“You guys, I’m fine, okay! Nothing is wrong, I’m not keeping secrets from you, so let’s just stop this and continue our day, okay?” You exasperatedly sigh, rubbing your head a bit as Franky shakes his head.

“[Name], I’m afraid we can’t.” He says, making you turn to him with a sigh. “Why? Why can’t you guys just-“

“We saw you crying alone, [Name]..” Chopper quietly mumbles, looking up sadly at you. “Why didn’t you come to us?..”

“I-“

“[Name].”

Luffy looks at you, his expression slowly softening as he stares at you deeply. “... you don’t have to be alone anymore. Actually.. you were never alone to begin with.”

You didn’t say anything and just looked away, hands clenched tightly and you bit your lip.

“I know what you’ve been going through. I felt the same two years ago in Marineford, okay? I..I felt so helpless and angry when Ace died.. I thought I was completely alone after losing him and I couldn’t live with myself.. because Ace died.. for me..”

You gulp at Luffy’s story with Ace, knowing fully well how heartbreaking it was for Luffy to be reminded of these memories, his last memory of Ace.

Hesitantly, you look up at Luffy to see pain and small tears brimming his eyes.

“It hurts a lot, [Name].. I know, alright? You feel all alone, and let regret, resentment, pain, sadness, everything, build up inside you, and you either hold it all in and put on a happy smile, or you could just let it all out and scream out the pain.” He continues, his jaw and hands clenching tightly as his tears fell down his cheeks.

The others stayed silent, all of them reminded of their own past and memories of when they lost a loved one, or when they felt completely alone with pain and regret.

Zoro, with Kuina.

Nami, with Bellemere.

Usopp, with Kaya.

Sanji, with Zeff.

Chopper, with Hiriluk.

Robin, with Jaguar.

Franky, with Tom.

Brook, with his whole crew.

Luffy, with his brothers.

You thought back to just a couple days ago with your own loved one dying in your arms and look down sorrowfully.

“I still think about it everyday, but I don’t feel as much pain or regret anymore. I’m almost thankful I survived.. why? Because it means I won’t leave you guys alone. I’m right here with you all, because you guys are my friends, my family!”

You feel tears brimming your own eyes, a few drops already falling down your cheeks.

“I’m not alone because I have you all by my side so I’m never alone! You all help me realize this and I eventually got over Ace’s death.. and even though I think about it everyday, I’m not alone anymore and I don’t cry about it too much. Because I have you and everyone else!”

You wipe at your eyes and sniff a bit, the others smiling softly at their captain, their hearts touched by his words as a few of them could feel themselves tear up.

“You’ve been crying by yourself, all alone these past few days, haven’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You knew the crew knew the answer already.

Luffy began make his way over to you, continuing to speak.

“It’s okay to be sad, to be hurt, to feel pain, and to cry. You could be angry, you can scream, you can sob, you can do anything you want.”

Luffy was now right in front of you, looking at you with a piercing expression.

“But you don’t have to be alone during these sad times. You never have to be alone again, because we’re right here.”

Luffy then tightened his fists and shouts right at you. “SO STOP KEEPING IT ALL TO YOURSELF AND SHARE YOUR PAIN WITH US! YOU WILL NEVER BE ALONE BECAUSE WE’RE YOUR FAMILY AND WE CARE ABOUT YOU. SHARE YOUR PAIN WITH ME!”

He extends and spreads his arms out, glaring hard at you with tears in his eyes as your own widen at his shouts.

The others smiled wider when they see your tears streaming faster down your cheek and your expression soften as your body lunged itself into Luffy’s arms.

Your arms wrap around his neck and legs around his waist as Luffy immediately wraps his own around you tightly, your face buried into his neck.

Sobs screamed out from your voice, your throat burning but you didn’t care. You sobbed right into Luffy’s neck, his hearing might’ve been damaged but he didn’t care either.

“It hurts.. it hurts so much, Luffy.. why?” You sob out, clutching onto him tightly as you gripped his shirt. “Why did they have to die?! Why..”

Luffy didn’t say anything, just held you closer and just as tight.

The others felt themselves tear up more at your sobs and unable to help themselves, they also ran to join in the hug.

Sanji, Nami, Usopp, Chopper and Brook all jumped into the hug, all sobbing their own cries and tears, which made you and Luffy drop onto the ground with the others on top.

“[NAME]-CHAN!”

“[NAAAMEEE]!”

“[NAME]-SANNN!”

Franky wipes his own stream of tears as Robin and Zoro smiles at the sight of their crewmates.

Despite your sobs, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at the others and sniffled, smiling genuinely at your family.

You should have known better than to keep it all in and to yourself. You weren’t alone.

You had family who loves you and were there right by your side, through all your joy and pain.

“Thank you, everyone. I’m so grateful..”

You smile wider and shouted loudly with closed eyes.

“Thank you, for loving me!”

-

A/N : y’all I-I teared up writing this-

I hit the maximum allowed per post wtf- I’m sorry this is rushed too ;~; I wanted it out quickly.

;-; I hope you enjoyed.

[teukyo]

One Warm Spring  — Hamada Asahi

pairing: hamada asahi x reader (gender neutral)

genre: fluff, very cheesy lol

word count: 3.2k

a/n: this had no business being so long i apologize D: i tend to overwrite whoops.. oh this is also my first fic so i hope you enjoy ! i’m still a bit rusty lol

Spring; after long nights of endless slumber, the Sun creeps up to the earth, its rays planting warm yet gentle kisses. The orb’s cheeks fill up in heat, flowers of endearment blooming, butterflies catching in the atmosphere’s stomach.

The Earth smiling back, showing a bright welcoming smile, and with open arms, tells the sun “good morning”. 

The quiet exchange of sweet nothings transferred to the buoyant citizens, as everyone would jump in joy about the newly welcomed season.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

Yet, you often found it a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now.

Empty confessions mimicked to be heartfelt at the spur of the moment, fleeing away just as quick as the cherry blossoms came and went. You just never understood it.

Snap!

“Y/N~~ the cherry blossoms are coming soon,” your friend, Jihoon sang into your ear, “And you’re out dozing off into dreamland, are you perhaps thinking about participating in the blossoming of love this year?”

You lightly shoved him away, giving him a glare. Jihoon was always jumping around during this time of the season because he never failed to have a crowd lining up to confess him; his ego flying as high as the newly born butterflies.

“Haha, very funny.” You deadpanned, leaving him behind to go to the cafeteria. 

“Hey, you get the drinks and i’ll get the food!” Jihoon shouted, you simply responding with an ‘okay’ symbol with your hand.

Because this was a routine everyday, you had your exact footsteps to the vending machine engraved in your head.

‘11:43—by now everyone should have already gotten their drinks’

‘1, 2, 3, 4.. don’t trip over the crack.. 5, 6, 7—’ beep!

That beep.. wasn’t part of your procedure.

You looked up, your eyes landing on an unfamiliar figure in front of your destination.

Focusing your vision on him, he was made out to be a raven haired boy, his posture slightly hunched over focusing on the number combination assigned to each drink.

His dainty fingers lightly pressing the right combo, pressing each digit carefully like his joints were made of glass

Shoving the crumpled up $5 bill into the slot, his eyebrows furrowing when the machine rejected it

5-5-6-2— banana milk?

You hadn’t realized you’ve been staring at him the entire time until he started walking away, a banana milk in his hand, accidentally brushing past you.

“Ah, sorry” he simply muttered under his breath before continuing on his path. His voice, a deep contrast to the season; hearing his hushed voice chilling you like a midwinter night. His entire presence stood out, almost like a wilted flower amongst the blossoming ones. Yet here you are, warm as ever, feeling the sun pressing warm gentle kisses on the place his fingertips brushed yours.

—

“Y/N? banana milk? you seem to be switching it up today” Jihoon said when you set your drinks down on the table.

“Ah.. i just — maybe i needed a change for the season” you simply responded because, you too, didn’t know why you had a banana milk in front of you instead of your usual chocolate milk.

Throwing your half empty banana milk carton to the trash after lunch, you heard a voice peer behind you.

“Oh! you drink banana milk too! it’s my favorite!” a student you knew the name by Jaehyuk vocalized. You snuck a peek back at the banana milk slowly spilling out of the tiny straw, smiling back at Jaehyuk looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Ah— this is actually my first time trying it! And it’s.. good!” you returned, attention on Jaehyuk until you see a much smaller figure peer behind him, a chocolate milk in hand.

“Of course it’s good! don’t buy too much of it though— don’t need it going out of stock on me! cmon Asahi”

Asahi. Asahi is his name.

You took one last quick glance at him, watching him throw the empty chocolate milk carton in the bin.

“Yeah.. The banana milk was too sweet for me anyway.”

—

Squatting down to touch the freshly grown flowers outside the school yard, you had recalled the times of your youth as a child running so eagerly to the same flowers in your hand right now.

Gazing at the pretty pink petals in awe as you wiping the morning dew slightly so it can slide off the petals, dripping to the ground.

Running back into your home, crying for a bandaid because you accidentally poked your hand with one of the thorns on accident.

Such simple yet vivid times you remember that made you cherish life a little more.

“Y/N? what are you doing here— our last class is gonna start soon” you heard your classmate Hyunsuk call. you spotting an ever so familiar figure behind him.

Small yet vivid moments.. how does this remind you of—

“Y/N what are you doing cmon!”

—

After school, you sneakily slid into the art classroom after realizing you left your phone in there. Checking the clock, you had 15 minutes before art club would commence, assuming you had 5 minutes to find your phone before members of the club would start arriving.

You observed the colorful classroom with the array of paintings laying on the drying rack, the paint brushes laying on the counter to dry, the sink covered in copious amounts of colors with its original silver color peeking through. The room gave off the feel of an elementary school art classroom. You guess the term “art is timeless” applies to the setting art is made in too.

“Ah there it is!” you whispered to yourself, snatching it off of the teacher’s desk. The sound of the door sliding open shocked you, ducking down under the table out of instinct.

‘Crap—how do i get out of here’ you thought before hearing a tiny tap on the desk.

And during this time of the year, peoples hopes grew along with the blooming cherry blossoms until, they too, find a loved one

“Uhm.. are you okay?” you looked up, seeing him.

With late march rolling in, comes the blossoms fully bloomed, the arms in everyone’s hearts opening to everyone.

“Oh sorry! I just- I forgot my phone during class so I just came in here to grab it..” you trailed off, quickly getting out of your ducked position and brushing the dust off of you.

You just never understood it.

“I should get going since art club is starting soon” you mustered. Before you could open the door you heard him speak.

“Are you looking to join the art club by any chance?” he said. You looked back at him, unable to scramble words together.

‘Just say yes, say yes, say yes, say yes say-‘

—

You handed out the application form to the leader of the art club, Yoshinori was it?

“Thank you thank you! You can join us for today to see the gist of what goes on” he said while giving you a smile that can easily flutter the hearts of others.

You looked at the room around you seeing Asahi and Jaehyuk, and a freshman that went by Haruto.

To be honest, why did you apply? Your experiences in art were little to none and your current piece you were working on in class was a “dog”— at least that’s what you called it.

“There should be one more person arriving and then we can start” Yoshinori said whilst you and him took a seat.

You stared at Asahi across from you who was absent mindedly looking down at the table, fiddling with his fingers.

‘Cute’ you thought before getting interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“oh! Y/N what brings you here?” you looked behind you to see Jihoon at the entrance, giving Yoshinori a polite smile.

“I think i should be asking what are YOU doing here,” you retorted, knowing very well that both you and him had the same level of art skill, “and I just joined because i’ve been interested in art.”

“Sure—“ Jihoon scoffed, “Asahi told me about this today so i decided to join—“

‘Asahi. How does he know Jihoon?’

“And you’re not even listening to me!” he exclaimed, ruffling your hair roughly, you lightly punching him in the gut in return.

After the commotion died down, everyone went in session, drawing on a piece of paper whatever went into mind. It definitely meditated your mind but it wasn’t appealing— visually.

The room was filled with small chatter, Jihoon’s voice overbearing everyone else’s.

“Your doodles are very cute” you heard him softly speak. You looked up at his paper, your eyes widening at the sheer talent that bestowed upon your eyes.

“You’re a funny jokester” you simply replied, looking at your own paper with a tight lipped smile. You heard him stifle a laugh, warmth flooding throughout your veins.

“It’s amusing to look at— i like the dog” he said, pointing at one of the drawings.

“It’s supposed to be a zebra >:(“ you looked up at him, trying to contain his laughter before calming himself down and continuing to draw on his paper.

“Well it’s fine because art club isn’t necessarily based on skill. i mean, if we have Jaehyuk in here then that says something” he responded pointing at Jaehyuk’s paper. You couldn’t quite comprehend what he was drawing— a person playing baseball??

“It’s a frog by the way”

“HUH?!”

—

You hadn’t realized how late art club ended, but when you walked out of school, you saw the once blue sky turned into an orange hue indicating the late time.

“We hope to see you again Y/N” Yoshinori said. You nodded and hummed in response before taking your leave with Jihoon.

You took one last glimpse of Asahi, sticking out amongst the orange sky. The sun was setting yet— looking at him gave you the exact warmth you would feel on a midsummer day. You watched his mouth slowly bloom into a smile when made eye contact. You think in your mind that spring has never felt so warm.

—

You looked up at the trees in the process of blooming, white buds formulating on the branches.

“The trees are gonna be really pretty in about two weeks or so” you heard a voice from behind you. Him. You clenched the chocolate milk in your hand before turning towards him.

“Yeah— oh sorry i’m blocking the vending machine” you murmured, sliding away.

“Oh no no,, it’s fine,” he said before taking your spot and getting the same drink in your hand, “Are you by any chance— planning to confess to anybody?”

Oh, right. You looked up at the blossoming trees once again. The time of the season you once never understood. The time of the season you once could say you despised. Yet here you are, having the rush of spring flowing down your veins. Is this the adrenaline that everyone feels? The unknown feeling gave you goosebumps throughout your body as he asked you that question.

“I don’t quite know yet,” you simply responded, looking back at him taking the drink out of the machine, “What about you?”

A sheepish smile wiped on his face, his dimple showing ever so slightly. He shrugged before looking at you.

“Only my heart knows the answer to that question.”

—

Over the so little time you’ve known Asahi, you’ve picked up on his mannerisms and his actions.

For one, he was more on the reserved side, and even when he talked his voice would always be on the softer side. You unknowingly started to associate him with winter because he gave off the cold feeling of a winter night. It was also your favorite season.

Most people knew him because he was friends with Jaehyuk, one who was very popular amongst the school. You had heard a couple times in the hallway about how handsome Asahi was. The feeling you felt when hearing that was unknown to you.

He enjoyed drawing a lot; him and Yoshinori were the best out of the club (though you’d be a bit biased if asked whose art you liked more), and he was always focused on his work, always scrunching in a little corner tending to his painting. But yet he always complimented your drawings no matter how bad they were, never failing to give you a warm feeling right after.

You could say you had developed an endearment towards asahi.

You stepped out your home, looking at the once bare trees flutter into pink hues, you thought the cherry blossoms were beautiful.

Today you decided not to walk out with Jihoon because well— confession season is always different with that boy. You had no intentions to get caught up in his relations.

You took timid and slow steps towards school. Taking your time looking at the petals and happy groups walking and aweing at the blossoms. Your mind was also off somewhere— of course it was, it always was.

Arriving at school, you saw Jihoon getting flooded by countless individuals, a letter in most of their hands. You could say the same to Jaehyuk on the other side who was also getting bomboarded. You took your routined steps to your locker, opening it as per usual except— it wasn’t usual.

You watched the letter flutter out, swaying to the floor imitating a loose flower petal. Picking it up with a shaked up expression, you carefully opened it up.

You saw the scribbled up lines at the top of the letter, indicating that the said person was trying to make a poem.

‘ah— who am i kidding? i’m not one with words. i never was. yet here i am trying to pour my feelings out on this letter. but i cant seem to combine the right words to express it. maybe because my feelings could not be described in the first place. maybe my feelings are best not worded out on this crumpled up piece of notebook paper. because if i’m being honest— this is my 27th time writing this and yet i still cant get it down. just.. meet me at class 104B? 4:15 pm after school today? please? -♡

Your grip on the paper tightened, the heart fluttering confession bringing a small smile to your face. You looked back at your locker seeing chocolate milk in sitting atop. You grasped it in your hand, taking it out before closing the locker and heading to class, your hands gripping tightly onto the objects. Unknown to you a figure watching your every move with focused eyes.

As time went by in school awfully slowly, your mind went off to one person only. You had foolishly deluded yourself into thinking that the letter and milk was from him. well— he did see you buy chocolate milk that one time. And well,, the handwriting did have a print of him.

‘Enough thoughts. just wait until school ends and your mind can finally-‘ ring!

You looked up at the clock in shock, realizing that it was, in fact, 4:00pm.

You purposefully gathered up your belongings slowly, trying to pass as much time as possible. Putting your care into every single step taken, from the 1st floor to the second.

Taking a deep breath, you slid open the empty classroom door. It was very convenient that it was just across the art classroom as the club did have a meeting today.

You traveled across the room to look out the window, seeing someone announce their feelings to another under the cherry blossoms. Just last spring you would stick your tongue out in disgust yet here you are somewhat in the same position, your heart aching as each second ticks by.

You watched them hug each other, their feelings being reciprocated, a petal getting caught in ones hair. You looked at the trees and how it really set the mood, almost getting lost in the alluring sight until you heard someone clear their breath.

You turned around deliberately, looking down at your shoes before looking up.

Yet, you often found it as a mistake to open up your heart in a time full of tender love like now. well— maybe not.

It’s him. The person right in front of your eyes is him.

You felt like the sun had just rose, your heart beating out of your chest almost like it was about to burst and run away. You felt the butterflies prance around in your stomach, feeling like you could cough one up right now. Does he feel the same right now?

“Ah,,, hello” he mustered shyly. You clenched the letter in your hand.

“Did you perhaps—“ though it was quite obvious, the slight nod from him gave you your answer.

You observed him, his hair slightly covering his eyes. Lightly kicking at his feet, you had figured he couldn’t compromise the right words.

“I have something for you” he spoke out after what seemed like a few minutes. He reached his hand out, silently telling you to take the initiative to grab it. You placed your hand in his, feeling like your hand was molded perfectly just to cusp his. His grip so gentle you could barely feel him grasp your hand.

Leading you to the art classroom across, your eyes spotting on the covered canvas on an easel. Using his other hand, he took off the cloth, your eyes widening in awe.

Your mouth laid agape as you looked at the drawing of a portrait of you with cherry blossoms in the background. Your heart stammering in your chest.

“Is this what you’ve been working on the entire time in art club?” you asked, eyes still on the painting. He hummed and nodded his head.

“Do you like it? Or is it a bit too—“

“No no! I like it a lot— Actually I love it. I love it so much” you cut him off, looking at him with excitement evident in your eyes. Words couldn’t describe the feeling flowing through you. Is this real?

“Well, I like you a lot too. I was trying to find a way to tell you, so I used my strong suit which is art” he proceeded to tell you, taking your other hand in his. He smiled tenderly at you, his signature dimple showing once more.

“Asahi— I like you too” you beamed, staring straight into his eyes. His smile widened more, his teeth showing. You took this as the initiative to hug him, arms wrapping around his neck, his wrapping around your waist.

You felt the sun shine on you, the warmth of spring immersing through you, your heart feeling more than alive as ever. The cherry blossoms you once thought as a mistake becoming the blessing in disguise for you. You think in the time of the moment that Spring has never felt so warm for you.

[taentedmess]

sleepless nights

summary: a year is a long time, isn’t it? you’ve spent yours stuck in an eternal, monochrome winter. a surprise encounter derails all of your plans: feelings fade… or do they, really?

pairing: taehyung x reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: swearing, terrible terrible angst (im sorry!), heartbreak, implied smut, angsty flashbacks :(

a/n: hi everyone! this is my very first fic on tumblr and i really hope you enjoy! please listen to spring day and scenery to really get into the feels - i hope you lose yourself in this little slice of a seoul winter :’) also i do have a storyline planned if you enjoy this little piece and could potentially even make this a series aah! please leave comments and constructive criticism - i’d love to grow as a writer! (@chateautae i finally did it!!!!!!)

[    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙      ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

09:17am, december 17, 2020

It’s been a year since you last saw him. A year of emptiness, hollowness, blankness. A year since you turned your back, leaving without a goodbye. It’s been a year since you’ve walked out his front door, the same one that you’d find yourself visiting and revisiting when you knew he wasn’t home.

It’s been a year since you last felt some semblance of happiness, a year since you’ve let out a genuine laugh, smiled from cheek-to-cheek. It’s been a year devoid of warmth: you shivered under the embrace of the summer sun, no longer noticed the blooming flowers that you had once loved so much. The world lost all its color. Fading into a bleak grayscale so far away, unreachable. No longer did you walk with a spring in your step, no longer did your eyes glimmer with galaxies that you’d once built with him. You were empty, a ship lost in the depths of the dark oceans. Floating, barely surviving, with no set destination. All you saw were never-ending, infinite oceans in all directions. No escape, no lighthouse. Just you. Alone. Pointless.

Your heart aches for him, the echo of a honeyed baritone, the ghost of his warm, muscular arms wrapped around your shoulders.

It’s for the best, you had thought. It’s for the best.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the thoughts out of your mind. There was too much, too many feelings, pent-up emotions. You weren’t a woman of emotions, never were, swore to never be, until you had met him. And he had changed everything.

Stop. This is getting ridiculous.

You needed to get on with your life, you think. There are too many things to think about, so many better thoughts requiring your attention. What were you doing, wasting your energy on him? It was time, you had decided, to end things once and for all.

The ticket machine snaps you out of your reverie, demanding it get paid. How much did the trip cost? You’ve forced yourself to forget, holed up all the memories too far into the shadows of your mind in your sheer desperation to evade the pain. You slot in a W10,000 bill, way too much, but better than having to remember. The machine happily eats up the cash, returning your card and sending you on your way.

You navigate the platforms, seeing the brightly-lit signs: Incheon line, Suin line, Bundang line. Then you see it, Platform 6, Gyeongwon line. South-bound to Soyosan, stopping at Iryeong. Your heart thumps, stomach twists, and you feel like throwing up. How many times had you once ascended these very steps with him, hand-in-hand, smiling to one another? How many times had you raced up these stairs, trying to get to the platform first? It’s too much, and you want to run. Run away from this place, from the thoughts and feelings.

No. You need this.

The winter air roughly brushes against your cheeks, hurrying you along.

What are you so afraid of?

Everything, you think. Everything. You’ve bound your heart in chains and locks, plastered it with thousands of bandages, one on top of the other. You’ve holed it away, willed it out of existence. You’re afraid of the memories, the emotions. You’re afraid of yourself.

Go. Just go. Get it over with.

You force your feet to move, one after another. You don’t think, you just move. Move onto the platform, move onto the train. You don’t realize that you’ve boarded the machine until you hear an all-too-familiar voice on the loudspeaker.

“This is the Special Rapid Train, on the Gyeongwon line, headed for Sosoyan. We will be stopping at Seokgye, Wolgye, Dobong and Iryeong. Please stay clear of the sliding doors!”

You vaguely see the blinking of lights and hear the shutting of the doors. The train picks up speed, clicking against the railroads. You are blank, a passenger on an endless journey. You sway when the train sways, stop when it stops. You don’t know how many stops have passed, having lost yourself in the familiar nothingness that had hollowed you out for the past year, until the speakers announce something about the next station being Dobong. You’re near, you realize. Too near.

Too soon does the train halt, birthing out and collecting new passengers as seats empty and taken once more in a matter of seconds. You watch this interchange with a bitter smile: how quickly he must have replaced you after you’d left, how he must’ve taken in another in your place.

Stop it.

Too engrossed in your thoughts, you don’t notice the closing of the doors and the blinking of the lights until you hear the loud system once more as the train starts to accelerate.

“Iryeong, Iryeong. Our next stop is Iryeong, please get off on the right side of the train.”

You are left suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, watching as snow paints the ground white. The houses blur into trees and back into villages as you stare out the window, and you start to remember. You remember your hands intertwined, dancing in the snow, the click of a camera as the melodies of your laughs twirling in the air. You remember the snugness of his embrace, his earthy cologne, his smile, his lips pressed against yours…

Stop.

You tear your gaze away from the glass, staring down at your gloved hands fiddling in your lap. It’s been a year. It’s laughable how much and how little has changed. You’re different, yes, but yet so painfully similar to the girl who ran away. It’s funny how much of a difference, or lack thereof, a year can make, you think. It’s certainly been hard on you, and you find yourself wondering about him, about how maybe the year has changed him, how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if…

Stop.

You’re hopeless, aren’t you?

You sigh and shut your eyes. You’re going crazy. Or maybe you’ve always been crazy. Your thoughts are feverish, a maelstrom in your mind. Involuntarily, you notice your feet rapidly tapping the metal bar to your side, vibrating against the pole. You feel the ghost of a touch on your thigh, hear the empty shell of his words, breathe, Y/N, breathe. What’s got you all worked up? And for a moment, just a moment, you feel his presence to your side, capture the warmth radiating off of his figure, and smile. Because it’s all okay when he’s here.

But he’s not.

You decide to focus on the sound of the railroads, staring down at the speckled floor of the train as the carriage undulates gently, side to side. You ride along, the train’s movements easing your own and you begin to lose yourself once again in the clacks of the rails, mind going blank, until you start to notice the slowing of the sounds. The train’s dance comes to a slow, inviting people to start getting up and shuffle towards the doors. Your heart sinks to your stomach. Not yet, not yet. It can’t be. It’s too soon.

The loudspeaker crackles to life, confirming your worst fears. “Arriving at Iryeong, please stay clear of the doors and exit on the right side of the train.”

Your legs move on their own accord, pulling you to a standing position as you grip the metal post with your life. The train continues to slow, eventually, painstakingly coming to a halt. You wish it never will, that it will continue on with its journey ahead. But it’s too late. The doors slide open, the sounds of the outside world whistle for you, calling you, urging you out of the comfort of the train. You don’t dare move, standing still as passengers trickle out, as the flashing lights start to appear, as the minute at the station starts to come to an end. The doors are closing in five. Four.

You twitch.

Three. Two.

“Wait!”

You rush out the doors, barely escaping the iron clasp of the metals that would’ve devoured you had you been a second too late. Behind you, the steel hisses as the vehicle exits the station, leaving you alone. So utterly alone.

You’re blessed with a moment of solitude, feeling nothing but the cold air chilling your face, until you realize where you are and why you’re here.

The bliss of being alone rapidly evaporates, and you’re hit with a speeding truck. The memories flood in; you’re winded, gasping for breath as you’re stormed with images, short clips of him, you, the pair of you. His smile, his laugh, his cheeks, eyes, nose. His breath tickling yours before he leans in for a kiss, his gentle, large hands cupping your face as you close your eyes…

Stop. Get a fucking grip, will you?

You force the color out of your mind as you make your way around the platform, empty now that everyone has gone. Your eyes graze against the pathetic, run-down station: the signs are only partially lit, the electricity having worn out. Your fingers run against the peeling, dirtied paint of the walls, dust bunnies catching onto your gloves. You scoff. This is pathetic. The floor is littered with plastics and old soda bottles, as if nobody’s been here to clean in too long. Graffiti smiles sadly back at you as you scan the fading walls, losing their life by the second. The bricks have faded into a musty brown, drab and uninteresting. Everything is so run down, so tired. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you make your way to the minimart to your right, wanting a beverage to help warm your insides up.

The doors slide open with a gentle clink, altering the store of your presence. The cashier at the counter looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely acknowledging you, before returning to the drama playing on his cracked phone. The shelves are well-stocked, however, in stark contrast to the beaten-down appearance of this whole ordeal. You glide along the aisles, and everything is the same. Your favorite tea is still on the same shelf as it was all those months ago, his favorite gimbap in the bottom left corner of the chiller. Beef and sesame, he’d get, while you’d get a tuna for yourself, clinking your drinks and hearing the hiss of his cola opening, laughing as you made a mess of yourselves, two young fools madly in love. You’d talk, drink, eat for hours, whispering, dreaming and wishing, wondering what was going to come in the future, what you’d name your first puppy, whether you wanted a girl or a boy for your first child. Never would you have ever imagined that it would all end this way.

Stop it.

You grab your bottle of tea violently, almost knocking it over in your hurry to leave. You could no longer stay, not here, suffocating in your memories of him. You erased the gimbap out of your vision, ignoring it as you made your way to the counter, paying for your drink as the half-hearted employee handed you with your change. You mutter a thank you, unsure if he had even heard, and mindlessly make your way out of the store, too focused on keeping someone out of your head. You nearly bang into the glass doors in your haste, looking down and walking as fast as you can. Until your heart stops, that is.

You don’t dare look up, not now. The whole world slows to a stand-still, your gaze sharpening on nothing. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest, your lungs stop working. Electricity charges through the air and you’re left reeling, not knowing what to do.

Slowly, painfully, your neck raises, muscles straining with all their might. You already know what you’re going to see, who you’re going to see, but the sight of him still shocks you all the same. You nearly spill your drink all over yourself when you finally look up, and your brain goes into overdrive. You’re sure that your mouth is hanging open, jaw slack, but you can’t do anything about it. Your knees buckle, you can’t breathe, suffocating, wanting the ground to swallow you up at this very moment. You want to fall, tumble into an eternal tunnel. You are dizzy, light-headed, going crazy, you swear. You’re going crazy, aren’t you? This can’t be real, can it?

You can’t believe it. You’re drowning, drowning in those chocolate eyes, sinking into his pupils, losing yourself in his gorgeous features. You drink him all in, his own face mirroring yours, in no doubt absolute shock or maybe even despair, his deadly stare making your breath hitch as it once did so long ago. He’d never lost his power over you, after all. The world is suspended around you, all operations ceased as you both continue to stare into each other’s eyes, the tension so palpable that it threatens to devour you whole. Your larynx seems to be glued shut, your tongue a stone in your mouth. There are no words, no way to express this feeling that washes over you upon seeing him again.

“Y/N…”

His voice. Your ears ring with his deep baritone, honey to your ears. You can’t help it: you quite literally swoon, despite the circumstances. His voice: it ignites a fire within you, warm tendrils of heat rising up from your stomach. Vibrations send throughout your core, making you lightheaded and sure that you’re about to fall. You remember his timber next to you in the dead of light, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, it’s okay, it’s okay, breathe, it’s okay, you’re here with me.

You hug your arms around yourself, trying to keep it all in, retain the strange feeling that was now foreign to you after months of cold. It’s been too long, after all - you’ve gone too long deprived of this humanness, comfort that radiated off of him.

Things are different now, Y/N.

Yes, they are. Your mind goes berserk once more, considering all of the scenarios. Why is he here? He probably just needs to go to the minimart - no, why would he come all this way, he lives pretty far as well, or maybe he’s waiting on a friend, no, maybe he’s brought a new girlfriend, maybe she’s with him right now waiting to jump out of the shadows. Maybe they’re both exchanging looks right now when I’m not looking, laughing, taunting me, this girl from the past who doesn’t deserve to be here, maybe they all think I’m a joke now, what am I doing, why, why, why?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that when Taehyung addresses you once more, you’re violently jolted out of your mind and nearly fall backwards, body forgetting everything but the sound of his voice.

“Y/N…” he says again, forcing you to look up at him. Your name splinters through the air from his lips, cutting through the frost and straight into your chest; you notice now that his voice seems tired, that he seems tired.

You finally regain some semblance of control over your frozen tongue, lips moving in an attempt to emit a sound, any sound. Your lips wrap around the sole syllable that comes to you like muscle memory, the only one that you manage to choke out.

“T-Tae…”

Your voice cracks, unable to continue. The prolonged eye-contact has got you weak, his pupils boring into your soul. You look into his eyes, reciprocating, and you notice that maybe they’ve lost their golden sheen, that they no longer twinkle with constellations of stars. And it’s then that you realize: maybe the year has taken a toll on him too.

Look at what you’ve done to him.

“T-Tae, I, I, I…” you sputter out, guilt flooding your system like a drug. There was nothing you could say, nothing you could tell him to cheat yourself out of the situation or paint yourself in a better light like you’re so used to doing. You’re not used to feeling this powerless, this weak. Taehyung was the only one who saw through the facade, the only one who allowed you to feel vulnerable. You couldn’t lie to him, you knew you couldn’t; there was no wheedling, no bullshitting, no lying yourself out of any sticky situation, which had caused you this whole trouble in the first place. You ran because you were too much of a coward to talk to him, to confide in him. And look where that’s gotten you.

“Why are you here?” he asks, burying his head in his hands. “Y/N, why are you here?”

Why am I here? You don’t really know as well, there’s nothing that you can say to him. Why am I here? To get over him? How are you even going to tell him? He has to think that you’re over him, that it’s done. Stop torturing yourself, and stop dragging him through this mess of your life. Tell him that it’s done.

“I… I came because…”

Y/N, say something?

“I came because I… I was looking for you.”

What the fuck?

His head snaps up, his piercing stare catching your gaze once again. “You were looking for me?”

You feel your heart stop.

“Umm… well, I mean, no, but, no, well actually if I think about it now, yeah, yeah I was looking for you,” you stammer, unable to produce a single cohesive line of thought. “I was looking for you because I wanted to tell you that it’s over.”

Your own words are like a dagger twisting into your own heart and vaguely hear a choked sound breaking the awful, awful silence. Until you realize that it’s come from your own mouth, a sob that you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in.

A moment of charged silence goes by, yet louder than any noise that either of you could’ve let out. Never in your life has silence felt so utterly deafening, and you wish to cover your ears and scream it all out.

“You’re telling me this now?” Taehyung manages, features distorted in pain. “You’re telling me this now, a whole fucking year after you walk out the door without a single word to me?”

You look down at the ground, hating, blaming your traitorous mouth for saying something that you hadn’t fully thought through.

No, Y/N. You have to stop bringing everyone down.

You’ve lost all rational thought when you say, “yes, Taehyung. Yes. I had nothing to say to you then and nothing to say to you now. It’s done and it’s over.”

You couldn’t even say sorry?

The frosty wind brushes over the pair of you, causing you to shiver in your boots. You want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and disappear, pretend that this never happened, that this was all a bad dream.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a security guard watching the whole exchanged with piqued interest. It’s none of your fucking business, you want to scream. It’s none of your fucking business. And yet you’re so humiliated, embarrassed at this whole mess that you’ve made of not only yourself but the situation in its entirety that you cannot muster up any words to merely defend yourself. You want to cry, sob, yell, scream.

“Fine, Y/N, it’s okay. You know what? It’s okay, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything, not an apology, not a reason, not your love. It’s okay. It’s fine. Maybe you never loved me, saw me in the same way. Maybe I just assumed, maybe it was wrong of me to assume. Maybe I was too optimistic, too in love with you that I had forced myself to believe the story that I had made up in my head, that you were in love with me too. Maybe I had wanted it, wanted you so bad that I had made myself believe it. Made myself believe that you were in love with me.”

Your heart instinctually reaches out to him, drumming feverishly against your fragile ribcage. No, you want to scream. No, Taehyung, you couldn’t be more fucking wrong. He doesn’t know the way your heart beats for him in the dead of night, how the mere thought of him sends shivers down your spine, how every cell in your body, every thread of your being aches, yearns for his presence with every hour, every minute, every second.

You feel your heart breaking, splintering into thousands, millions of tiny little fragments raining down like shards of glass. It hurts, it hurts like hell.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Don’t force yourself into anything. There’s no need to anymore. There’s no more need to lie, no more need to pretend that you’re happy.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

It’s not the truth, you want to cry. It’s not. It’s the farthest from it. But you return his look, tight-lipped. You nod, despite the swell of emotions that are threatening to cut you in half at this very moment.

“You’re welcome.”

He reciprocates your nod and slowly, painfully, tears his eyes from yours. He stands up, gingerly, as if hesitating, and you want to tell him to stop, to sit back down, that you’re lying to him, that you want him, that you want him more than anything in this world. But you don’t, and he continues onto his feet, sparing you one last gaze.

“At least I get to say goodbye,” he says, wistfully. “At least I now have the chance to say goodbye.”

You’re sure that tears are streaming down your face at this point, little trails of ice making their way down your blushed cheeks. Your lips are tight, and you cannot, for the life of you, return his look.

Before you can fully comprehend what’s happening, you know he’s here, the familiar hold of his arms, your face finding itself nestled on the same spot on his chest, right above his heart. You feel it beat, gently, slowly, under your ear, a comforting rhythm that you’ve too often fallen asleep to, whispered to. Your arms instinctually wrap around his waist, and his head settles on the crook of your neck, the curve of his nose gently kissing your delicate skin. His warmth radiates from under his coat, and you soak it all in, collecting as much as you can. You are two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit, and you will this moment into eternity, searing it into your memory, wishing for the world to stop, stop right now and leave you in this moment forever. You’ve been lost, wandering, and have finally come home.  

But forever doesn’t exist.

You’re struck with a blast of cold at his loss, feeling horribly empty. He steps away from you, and you’re almost certain that you see moisture in his eyes, tears threatening to break free. Every fiber of your being yearns for him, you want to reach out to him, extend the hug, shower him in kisses, make up and forget that this all even happened, but you’re too prideful. You can’t let yourself do this.

“Goodbye, Y/N. Thank you for everything.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

                                            [    ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙    ]

11:42am, March 12 2021

[taehyung]

I miss you.

I miss you as the seasons come and go, I miss you as I watch the world going to shit, losing all hope. I miss you when the wind blows, taking me along like a pointless man, destined for nowhere. I’ll miss you eternally; I’ll miss you when all the ice melts into the ocean, I’ll miss you when everything’s finally disappeared and there’s utter nothing left for me.

I miss you in the brightest mornings and the darkest nights, when the sun comes out to play and the rain starts pelting down like there’s no tomorrow. I’ll miss you in the loneliest winters and the blooming springs.

Everything reminds me of you. I am stuck in this eternal frost without you here; your loss has trapped me into this winter forever. I am slowly losing feel of my limbs as they succumb to the cold around me - everything has frozen into place, trapping me into the confines of this perpetual season. The world is closing in, I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. No longer do I have you to lead me out of this snow, no longer do I have you to hold my hand and bring me warmth through it all.

Why did you have to go?

Baby, did you know how much pain I’d be in when you’d left? Did you know how much it would hurt, how you’ve trapped me into this never-ending arctic, leaving me behind to freeze?

Did you know when you chose to go?

You’ve left me in ruins, my love. I can’t continue without you. I’m struggling to breathe, suffocating, as the world collapses inwards, threatening to bury me alive. I wait for you everyday, through all of the grief, the pain. I still wait for the day that you come back, that I get to see your face again.

Or maybe I’m a dumbass. I don’t know. Have you changed? Or is it I who has? Or perhaps, us both? I’m still a lovesick fool for you, Y/N, that I can tell you for sure. I can’t stop thinking of you, as the days pass, sun and moon taking their turns in the sky. I’m left, suffering in this darkness, bleakness without you here. I wonder if you’ll still be there at the end, when all ceases to exist. I wonder if I’ll see you again; how much more do I have to wait? How many more sleepless nights will have to pass before I can lay my eyes upon you again? How many days, months, years do I have to hold back before I get to feel you, touch you, kiss you, one more time?

Or maybe I’m being optimistic. You know what, Y/N, I’ll never see you again, maybe you’re better off without me. Maybe it’s all for the best, maybe it’s time for me to move on, maybe it’s time for you to move on. Maybe it really was not meant to be, maybe you really weren’t the one for me.

Then why can’t I get you out of my head?

Y/N, I wish I could just forget you. I wish you never existed, I wish I had never gotten to know you. Then it would be so much easier for me. I wish that you had ignored me, that you had turned me down when you had the chance. It would’ve been the most pain that I’d feel at the time, but believe me, it’s nothing compared to this.

Now I can’t get rid of you, no matter how hard I try. You’re there, you’re there when I lie down and close my eyes for the night, you’re there at work, hiding behind my papers and my laptop, waiting to take me out to lunch. You’re everywhere, baby, you’re in the car, riding shotgun and racing to connect to Bluetooth first, singing at the top of your lungs as we speed down the highway like the reckless teenagers that we were. I see you, hair tangled by the wind, belting out your favorite lyrics out of the roof of my convertible. And I remember thinking, for the hundredth time that night, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. Damnit, Y/N, you’re standing by the mirror every morning when I get ready for my meetings, dainty fingers straightening my tie and planting a kiss on my lips. You got this, lover boy.

You’re there, and then you’re not. You flicker between reality and imagination, I cannot discern whether I’m living in a fever dream or simply hallucinating. You’re slipping through my hands like grains of sand: I’m losing more of you by the second, can’t seem to hold on to you. You’re disappearing, getting further and further away as all I can do is watch helplessly as you fall through my fingers.

Where are you now, Y/N?

I worry about you, I worry whether you’ve eaten well, whether you’ve slept well, whether you’ve had a good day at the office. Have you seen your parents lately? Have you had some time to yourself over the past days, have you overworked yourself as you often tend to do? Are you taking care of yourself?

Is it selfish of me to be wishing for you, thinking of you after all this time? Tell me, Y/N, is it wrong of me to be wanting you despite it having been over for so long now? You’ve probably moved on by now, considering how long it’s already been. Maybe you’ve met someone new, maybe you’re in love with someone else, maybe I’ve already been replaced with another man in your life.

Maybe I treated you wrong, maybe you didn’t feel like I loved you enough, maybe I didn’t make you feel special enough. I wish, Y/N, I wish that I could turn back time for you, I wish I could go back and be better for you, that I could fix all of the mistakes that I’ve made, wipe all of the tears that you might’ve cried for me, swallow up all of the pain that must’ve been plaguing you, to suck up the hurt that you were feeling back then. I wish you could give me all of the pain, I wish that I could’ve carried it all for you, shielded you from it all like how I should’ve done.

But it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You’ve met someone else by now, you’re laughing, smiling, whispering with another, kissing someone else’s lips, in love with your new man. And I’m still here, trying to get over you like the pathetic loser that I am. There are so many regrets, so many things that I wish that I could still tell you, so many errors, mistakes that I made. It’s all my fault. I want nothing more than to be able to get on my knees in front of you and apologize for everything. There are so many more words, so many moments that I want nothing more than to be spending with you.

I’m still in love with you.

I think I always will be, Y/N. I know it’s selfish of me. I really can’t help it. I’m sorry.

You came into my life like a whirlwind, taking all of me along for the ride. And now that you’re gone, I don’t know what to do with myself no longer. I’ve been swept away with you and my fate will forever be left in your hands. There’s nothing left for me here, not in my work nor art. All that’s left is you. You are the only thing keeping me going now - I live another day, endure another night hoping for you, waiting for the day that I will finally see you again. I open my eyes for you in the mornings, in hopes of laying them upon your figure once more.

Maybe it’ll all be for nothing, I know. Maybe I’ll never see you again. But there’s nothing left for me, remember? I’m willing to take my chance. For when I finally do see you once more, it will all be worth it.

I miss you, Y/N. I miss you so fucking much. My heart beats for you, my lungs breathe for you. My every cell in my entire being aches so desperately for you, for you and you only. And so I’ll wait for you. I promise. I’ll be here for you, waiting for the day that I get to catch a glimpse of you, to be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, for when you need even the littlest, tiniest thing. I’m ready to give you the world, baby. I’m ready to right all my wrongs, to treat you like the fucking queen that you are. I’m going to treat you the way that you deserve.

When that time comes, my heart will be happy. When the time comes that I see you again, that I hear your voice again, your laugh again, it’ll be okay. All this pain will fade away to nothing. Don’t worry about me, darling, I’ll always be here, waiting. Waiting for you, until the end.

I promise.

                                                   ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

an: i hope you liked it!!!! <3 please please please leave feedback my loves!

[ifeellikeameowster]

Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

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

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

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

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

[forbidding-souda]

Can you write V2 boys meeting their soulmates?? :)

SDR2 boys meeting their soulmates

Mod Ouma here! Just wanted to say I wanted to make this into a kind of AU. I decided to use The Red String of Fate AU. A quick explanation of The Red String of Fate is that you are born with a red string tied around your pinky finger, the other side of that string is your soulmate who you’re destined to meet someday. Anyways, enjoy the story!

-Mod Ouma

Hi it’s me mod souda I’m writing the Teruteru and the Nidai one since mod ouma struggled writing them B^) bet I got ya’ll chef and coach simps on lock you know me

-Mod Souda

Imposter:

You sigh as you stared at that red string wrapped around your finger.

Year after year, you waited to see who the person was on the other side of that string, for a while, you just thought you didn’t even have one.

Until one day…

You arrived at Hope’s Peak Academy.

The string was loose, indicating that your soulmate was near.

You followed the string, tugging on it, until you bumped into someone.

“I’m sorry, I…”

You saw the string was connected to him…

“You’re my…” He nodded his head and smiled. 

“I’m your soulmate.” 

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you got up to hug him.

Today was finally the day you met your soulmate.

The whole day, you talked with each other, learning each other's interests and hobbies.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu:

You wondered if tugging at the red string will somehow annoy your soulmate to come over and tell you to stop just because of it.

So you did.

You tugged at it everyday, basically almost non-stop.

You thought it was quite hilarious though.

Every now and then you felt the other side tug roughly.

When you arrived at Hope’s Peak Academy, you saw that your string was loose.

You tugged and tugged and saw someone looking at you, confused.

He clicks his tongue.

“So you’re the one whos been tugging on this damn string?”

You nodded your head. “And? It worked on finding you though!”

He blushed a little before slowly reaching out to you.

“What? You don’t wanna hug your damn soulmate?”

You laughed and hugged him.

Gundham Tanaka:

You never really bothered with the red string around your finger.

You didn’t tug at or do anything, you just let it sit there.

When you felt the string tug though, that’s when you started communicating with each other.

Your soulmate and you used morse code to talk to each other.

You found out his name when you guys first talked. 

It was different and the way he ‘talked’ was weird, using weird metaphors and words you really didn’t understand.

One day, you were at a pet shop, hoping to look for a new pet.

Then you heard a boisterous laugh echo through the store.

“You mortal! I am Gundham Tanaka!”

That’s all you needed to hear when you ran up to him.

At first he was confused, then he realized the string connected you to him.

He was nervous to hug you back but he did anyway.

“Nice to meet my mortal soulmate!”

Hajime Hinata:

When you first tugged on that red string, you were surprised to see some kind of response.

It was just a simple tug back, but that single tug confirmed that there is someone on the other side.

It seemed he was busy a lot though, he didn’t tug back on some days when you did.

Then he just didn’t at all.

Of course, you were worried, so you searched up morse code and tried communicating with him.

When he didn’t respond, you got sad. Wondering what happened to him.

You woke up and you tugged one last time, just in case, hoping for some kind of response.

You did, no response.

But later in the day, you felt the other side tug. 

You were on the sidewalk, waiting to cross the road. 

He tugged again but this time more strong, that’s when you saw the light turn on to cross the road. 

You followed the string to find the boy in front of you, smiling.

“Good afternoon, soulmate.” 

You smiled at him.

“Good afternoon.”

He hesitated before grabbing your hand and wrapping his hands around it.

Kazuichi Souda:

You were surprised when you first felt the string tug.

It kept going for the next few days, it was kind of annoying but cute at the same time.

Obviously, they wanted some attention.

When you were driving home, somehow, something got into your tire, causing it to lose air.

You drove to the nearest car shop, letting the people take your car to fix the tire.

That’s when you felt the string trying to pull you and you let it.

It was pulling you towards the garage and you stared at the doorknob until you felt the string tug again.

When you opened the door, you felt a warm body envelop yours.

They smelled like sweat and oil, so you pushed away to see a boy with pink hair and a beanie, holding up his pinky finger.

He had sparkles in his eyes. “You’re so attractive!”

You looked at the boy. “Same to you.” 

He put his hand on his heart.

“Nice to meet you, name’s Kazuichi Souda!” 

You responded with a hug and you also said your name.

Nagito Komaeda:

For as long as you had that stupid red string on your pinky, you never felt a tug or had a tug back.

They never responded to your tugs and at times you would get angry or sad.

All that hope of having a soulmate seemed to shatter.

Although, it seemed your soulmate finally had the confidence to tug back, it was a small, little tug, but a tug is a tug to you.

You had free time, so you decided to follow that string.

You drove and drove till you arrived at some school.

It seemed to be the end of the day since people were coming out. 

You gathered the extra string that was piling up and you followed into the school and found yourself standing in front of a classroom door, which the string was connecting to.

You breathe out and open the door, the people looking at you in confusion.

You held up your hand. “My soulmate is somewhere in here, I know they are.”

Then you saw a boy with white hair standing up, holding his hand up too.

You smirked as you walked towards him.

“Y’know, I almost lost hope when you didn’t respond to my tugs.” He put his head down.

“Ah! I didn’t mean for you to feel despair! I just wouldn’t think you would want to meet someone as pathetic as me…”

You put your arms around his neck and hug him.

“Never, what’s your name soulmate?”

“Nagito Komaeda.” You held on tighter and said your name.

“It’s nice to finally meet my soulmate…”

Teruteru Hanamura

The string around your finger moved way more often than you thought it would.

It just became something you had to get used to.

You were raised to think of the string properly. Not mess with it, as it’s considered being bad. Even pulling on it is the sign of a rebel. Leave it be, the adults say. 

They made it seem like if you were too annoying, it would scare your soulmate away for sure.

You lie awake at night thinking about this as your string wiggles from underneath the blanket.

The days passed, and the thread seemed to get a little loser, but they did not appear. 

In the firsts days of April you explored the city that surrounded Hope’s Peak Academy. You don’t know if it is your anticipation - the string was getting noticeably loser - or the fact that the rhythmic sways of the object in question became slight pulls.

It catches your attention. A soft oh escapes your lips, and you stop in your tracks. Something in you knew this was the moment. The quickening of your heart, the way the world around you seemed to melt away. You don’t even have to turn around to know you would see a destined figure.

“Oh, sugar,” his voice rang out to you, “it looks like our strings are attached, it’s so sensual.”

The first thought that pops into your head is how soft his eyes are.

Nekomaru Nidai

Tiny vibrations wiggle against your finger, coming as a small ticklish feeling. 

How long will it be until you can finally see the person?

You’re rather impatient. It’s your downfall.

So you play with it on your freetime. Wrapping it around your finger like a phone cord when you’re bored.

It hardly ever moves beyond the small jolts. 

But you notice how the string doesn’t seem to be so inflexible the closer the start of school gets.

Hope’s Peak Academy is scary, of course, but it’s also in the city you grew up in. Is your soulmate not native to here? You wonder what city he’s from. Or town. What if he’s from a small town?

They seek out people from all over Japan. So your soulmate could be anyone.

If it is anyone who goes to your school.

You think about this while you walk through the halls, your heart beat faster than your footsteps while you watch the string start to droop.

They are here! Oh, just right around the corner.

Your feet carry you faster than you can even process.

A sharp left, and then- “It’s you!” You call out.

His broad back is turned to you. But when he turns around, his tough composure drops immediately as he lets out a laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re here! This is extraordinary!” He booms, putting his hand on your head and ruffling your hair.