#and grief makes you do all sorts of odd things

[yloiseconeillants]

MAYNCIENT :: Day 10 - Promise

"I told you I'd be back for them."

Mnemosyne (angel) belongs to @hermits-hovel. The explanation of this sequence got *very* long so I'm putting it under a cut but MASSIVE ARIADNE LORE DUMP LMAO

Amaurotine social conventions discourage the expression of extreme emotions, which could make the processing of things like grief and alienation difficult when there isn't a cultural framework to acknowledge those feelings in the first place. Ariadne, who lost her brother, Midas, in an accident, has a very difficult time adjusting to his loss - most Amaurotines have only experienced death through the deliberate choice of returning to the Star, which is universally considered a beautiful and respectable event. This disconnection between the grief that Ariadne felt at his passing was at odds with the pride that she was expected to show, and she withdrew from almost every aspect of her life - stopped going to theatre rehearsals, barely showed up to her classes, avoided her friends and loved ones (there was a fairly dramatic breakup with Hades at this point after he refused to fetch her brother from the Aetherial Sea - he didn't understand why she felt so despondent about Midas' death which. Boy howdy does that become a Plot Point Later) (he did try to help but he absolutely was not equipped to do so).

Over time and with the very patient help of her mentor, Halmarut, she slowly rejoined society after graduating by taking on a student-teacher job at Halmarut's personal request. She still wasn't fully comfortable being open with other people after her withdrawal and instead developed a sort of party-girl persona to interact with others. As long as she was having Fun, she didn't have to think about everything she had lost in the meantime. She met the rest of her eventual friends and lovers in the GAP at this point, starting with Timoria, who she first met in a bathroom at a party while she was crying and Mori and Ari's woo-girl energy fed off each other as they navigated Amaurot.

Of course, new interpersonal relationships and dynamics means More Feelings and Ariadne still hadn't really ever stopped grieving so she ends up easily overwhelmed by her emotions, which caused her to act out in erratic and sometimes self-destructive ways, including the ever-green clown daughter favorite Causing Problems on Purpose. When the inevitable consequences of these actions backfire on her in small or less small ways, she tries to drown them out by escalating the FUN and attempting to block out her own memories to get through the day, first by narcotics and when that doesn't work, she pressures her friend Mnemosyne, whose literal job is preserving memories, into the experimental field of removing memories. She isn't necessarily just banking sad memories, but anything that causes her to feel what she determines is Too Many Feelings.

(yes we're doing a self-inflicted eternal sunshine of the spotless mind kind of thing uwu)

Mnemo is uncomfortable with this, as it's not really what he is supposed to be doing with his powers, but Ariadne assures him that she will eventually come back to collect the archived memories, which Mnemo preserves in a crystal he developed for this very purpose. She spends years not coming back for those memories, though, instead compounding the problem by increasingly dropping memories off with Mnemo until it becomes clear to her girlfriend, Minthe, that something is terribly wrong with Ariadne's memory. Minthe confronts Ari about this, and Ari promises that she'll go and fetch the memories from the crystal (we've been affectionately calling it Ariadne's cringe compilation crystal) (there's a playlist).

Going back for the memories had its own issues and inevitable fallout, but Ariadne did try to regain those memories and work through them with her friends - one at a time, based on what she feels she can deal with. She doesn't manage to get all of them back before the End of Days - meaning that there's a memory crystal floating around with some Very Strong Feelings that's a repeated McGuffin through the eras in blorboverse.

ok i did it i wrote up the lore huzzah thank you for reading

bonus: also also this whole thing about her brother dying is why ariadne is obsessed with death and rot and decomposition and amaurot's refusal to acknowledge what is ugly about death thank you i have written enough

[notpercieved]

I just realized Arlecchino doesnt even use polearm arm at all, she was more adept at using the sword😭 the one that uses polearm is CLERVIE

And the fact that the current arlecchino uses polearm makes me uUHEUGH-/pos

[wyllsravengard]

there's a lot of discussion and speculation about the fact john doesn't speak of arthur in rdr1. logistically it's not hard to understand that rdr1 just came out years before rdr2 and thats why but . But.

but when you think of rdr1 with the additional context two, there is something quite... in line with john trying to forget arthur. wanting to. or burying him. not just in metaphor or in soil but in his memories and in some way failing to do it but in another succeeding

you think of john and his commitment to his son and wife and you think of his willingness to do anything for them. moral or not. righteous or not. and you think of the fact that john didn't know at the time the sort of man arthur believed him to be, but he perhaps modeled himself in the image of his older brother. near incidental. he has so little in common with arthur really. john's broody and lacking remorse and at twenty-six he's inconsiderate entirely in a way arthur never was.

but time is a thief and one day, he turns 38. he's older than arthur when he dies. and john doesn't remember well what he looks like, and all he can feel when he thinks of arthur is grief. grief that never ends. thats the thing about all of it, you'll realize - is that john knows arthur best in the retroactive.

the sort of complicated, odd man arthur was revealed to him in the creases of pages and keepsakes. in the carving of his guns that john finds after arthur is gone. in the ring of the woman arthur loved long ago. in the confessionals to his son isaac and the regret in the letters he wrote to their psuedo father. you realize john knows more of arthurs stagnant ghost that can't guide john into manhood the way he so desperately needs. and it's all he has to go by to make a man of himself.

john never finds out what kind of man arthur believed him to be and he has to infer the real good man arthur was. in grief there is love. john loved arthur enough to want to be like him. and in burying the living, breathing man arthur was he's forced to cling to his spirit. has to piece together the kindness of his older brother through memories and diary entries and secondhand stories. and that's how he models himself in rdr1 to me. where arthur is moral john becomes dutiful and where arthur is kind, john is helpful. he becomes the shadow of arthurs best qualities. he can never be arthur. no one could ever be arthur, even if arthur had given them the page by page instructions of how to do so. this is all he has. all he knows. all he can do.

john misses his brother. so he tries to embody him. but he can't really in the same way he can't grieve him. so he makes a home for arthurs ghost to return to in himself. john never mentions arthur because it dregs up painful what-ifs, but they share so many mannerisms and bastardized qualities. john has fashioned himself based on those loose memories.

one day, a stranger meets john and says. "why would you remember me, friend? you've forgotten far more important people than me" and john will remember all the ghosts he's ever loved briefly. there will be a blurry face and a forgiving voice and it will sound like a memory and it will linger in johns ribcage like a moth. and john won't remember. he won't. he can't. he buried his brother without ever doing it.

john says a lot of things. feels a lot of things. he shoots his gun to the stranger who calls his memory into question and the thing jams and the bastard roams free. john will taste blood in his mouth. he'll feel a cough in his lungs and well, he won't remember his brother still. buried men must stay buried.

of course. of course john never mentions arthur. he can't remember him, even though he's inherited so much of his manner. to speak it of him would be admitting to his existence. its admitting: i miss you. im sorry. it was my fault.

of course john never mentions arthur. he's made all this effort in forgetting him that even when his body and his gesture and his character betray the fact he's forgotten - his mind will soothe the pain and blur out his face.

and instead of remembering in life even once, he'll die the same way arthur did. alone. protective. contented. redeemed. john loves arthur like most brothers do - with muscle memory.

even if john cuts the necrosis of arthurs memory off of him, his body will twitch at the phantom feeling of his existence. john remembers even when he can't. arthur his only brother. the most important man he's ever forgotten.

[yandere-romanticaa]

I need to take a moment to appreciate my husband because I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight unless I write something for him.

Imagine Jing Yuan constantly making up itty bitty excuses in order to see you. Fetch him this, make him some tea, oh would you look at that there's a meeting, why not join since you're already here? Oh come on, don't worry, no one will give you any funny looks if you're next to him!

People look and talk, of course they do. When was the last time the general ever took such interest in someone? His intentions are clearer than a spring sky, he is very much flirting with you. The gentle touches and his playful words are so hard to ignore that the Cloud Knights have several inside jokes because of their general. There's a catch though - you don't believe that Jing Yuan has feelings for you!

That is right. You are constantly explaining away his attitude and wandering hands as "Jing Yuan acting like Jing Yuan", nothing more, nothing less. The sheer amount of guards who give you a side eyed glance has long past the double digits because, good grief, how can a person be this blind?

Jing Yuan doesn't mind this. As a matter of fact, he takes great pleasure in your naivete.

Watching you crumble before him has become a favorite past time of his. Nothing makes him smile more than to see your resolve turn to mush the moment he takes the conversation in a direction which you are not prepared for. His touches are an odd mixture of being frequent enough that it would be odd if he hadn't touched you for more than 3 whole hours and so casual that one could be forgiven for mistaking you two as a pair. You brush him off with a huff, calling him all sorts of names as Jing Yuan laughs at your flustered being.

Times such as those it's so easy to forget the absolute power he holds over so many things and people.

Make no mistake dear. This is his way of claiming you, slowly but surely. Let the people speak, let them gossip.

Let them know that he set his sights on you.

No one would dare come near you if the public knew that you were his. If some fool ever even tried Jing Yuan would have no problem with staring down at them, the intensity of his gaze would send the message he was sending perfectly.

Leave if you wish to live.

He is a tactician at heart and right now, he is trying to map his way into your own.

[razzle-n-dazzle]

- hi ! 💌,,

ISTG you’re writing is so well done and creative I had to contain myself from like spam!!

I hope you’re still taking request and if you’re not that’s totally cool, I’ll wait ‘till next round.

Adam reincarnates in hell and oh, would you look at that? the s/o is the only one trying to help and not making him feel worse that he already is. (i just need wholesome content, exam week is killing me rn).

AGAIN, love you’re writing thx for reading so far!

ᯓ★ Let's Give This Another Shot (and not fuck it up this time) Sinner! Adam / Sinner! Reader | Drabble

‗ content / trigger warning: fluff, swearing, Adam being Adam, not proof read (we die like Adam) ‗ author's note: this is for everyone who's dealing with exam weeks, it sucks but I believe in all of you any you're going to kill those exams! (don't let them kill you!). Also thank you so much for the compliments Anon <3, I write for the people and myself, so I'm glad everyone is enjoying the crazy shit I've posted here!

ᯓ When you fall from grace, it's not a pleasant feeling; That Adam knew - or at least he thought he knew - well enough from hearing about Lucifer falling, hearing the horrific things the others whispered about it, mentioning it in passing before the thought disappeared and dispelled into the air as though Lucifer had never held a place in Heaven. As though he was nothing that what he was now, demonic figure that wore a crown made out of skeletons and bones fashioned to mimic horns. Adam never cared about the stories that were whispered, about the horrors he sometimes heard through passing, about Sera recalling how she heard Lucifer scream on the way down, about how Michael watched with horror as Lucifer tried to shield Lilith and himself, about how Gabriel heard his pleads and couldn't do anything; No one could save him from the fate that had been weighed on his shoulders as soon as he had fed the apple to Eve. And partly it was because Adam blamed Lucifer for ruining his paradise, for infecting the mind of both his (ex) wives and causing him grief and pain. Dying alone is almost just as unpleasant as falling from grace; almost.

ᯓ You see, while Adam had died alone on Earth, at least his soul went to somewhere pleasant and he was able to continue living; To make a name for himself and, he guessed, make some friends and live a rather worriless and carefree life in the clouds. He was able to have fun, rock out, and be known as the first human soul ever being able to reach Heaven - that was something not even Eve managed to do, and he took it with pride! It was his title. It was partly who he was. Maybe it was all he was. That much became more clear to him when he found himself waking up in Hell again, the stabbing pain of a dagger striking his back still their along with the weight of his wings. At first, he had thought he managed to survive the assassination attempt, that Lute had just left him in Hell on accident or because she thought he was dead. It caused some sort of pride to well in his chest, a flame that sparked his need to go boost and scream at the top of his lungs - he had survived an angelic weapon! He was immune! He was the strongest angel there was, because Sera would totally fall and die in a sad crumble after being stabbed with angelic metal! He was . . .

ᯓ And that's when Adam happened to pass by a mirror, or well more of a reflective glass on the street of Hell (as he walked, not questioning the odd ball looks he got), and that's when he saw it; What looked like a stranger to be staring back at him, engulfing and taking over his reflection like they owned it, like it was there own. That wasn't him! Well, it looked like him, he could admit that, but it wasn't as sexy or as handsome as him! The reflection would copy his movement, snarling as he did and grinning all the same. With his same fluffed up hair and piercing eyes, the reflection wore no mask yet still held the horns of his all the same; Even the way they slowly curled back before dipping down, forming and L for the gold spikes to rest at the end. The reflection wore his exterminator uniform, yet it was the darker version with the yellow having somehow been dulled and deepened and faded out all at once. His wings were still golden, still tucking at his sides from under his arms all the same, though there was no halo to accompany them this time. And Adam almost wanted to laugh, maybe it was hysteria or maybe it was disbelief, yet he watched to cry and laugh and break the glass all at once; Denying that this was his fate, being unable to stomach that he, First Man Adam, was not only double dead yet in hell. Hell! The first man cannot be in hell, he had created everyone on Earth; All of them came from his nuts and in turn all of them should be praising the fucking land he walked on because if it wasn't for him he wouldn't be here!

ᯓ And yet the Reflection looked back all the same, teasing him with a distorted grin; Like it could feel his distress in the way he curled his fist, pulling back before he slammed it against the glass. It gave a crack, a small one at first, before completely shattering. Adam could care less what shop or business had that glass, he could care less how he effected them or how he was going to be painted in Hell, because this was some crazy mistake! He was not supposed to be down here and he was not going to stand for some stupid mistake that happened because some small crazy bitch decided to back-stab him! Literally! And yet, if Adam wanted any of the answers he so desperately craved, he would have to suck in some of his pride and trudge along to the damn Hotel and talk to the residence who had taken his life. It would take him a while before he accepted such a fate, taking the chance between deciding and doing to walk along the Pride Ring before stumbling into the wrong town and being chased out by crazy demons who wanted to bite him! Maybe even eat him . . . What crazy place is this?!

ᯓ When Adam had begrudging and reluctantly knocked on the new Hotel door, which he would never admit to stopping and marveling at for a second, he would feel that ever irritating dread weigh in his stomach. Who wouldn't feel such a feeling after coming to the front door of a group of people you had tried to exterminate only, Adam didn't know how long, prior! Maybe, silently, somewhere inside Adam knew if he were in their shoes, having faced what they had, he wouldn't accept him either; He would throw him to the curb. Yet, he didn't exactly like that thought, and it wasn't very on brand, so he shoved it down and away and deep until all the could think about is: How in the hell would they not accept me? I'm Adam, I'm the first man! And yet when the door opened, allowing Adam to come face to face with none other than Vaggie, he felt that dread creep in a little. But, not enough to stop him from greeting Vaggie in a less that desirable way, "What's up Vagasaurus?" The sneering comment left his mouth, "I love what you did with the place. You know, it looks slightly less like a destroyed pile of Sh-" Yet the door would only slam in his face before Adam could finish his thoughts or his words; Leaving him standing outside, a tad awkwardly, waiting for the doors to open again. He, also, would never admit giving a glance behind him, making sure no one was standing there to watch him standing in front of the doors.

ᯓ "Vaggie, who was that?" Charlie would call to her girlfriend as she walked away from the door, coming towards where Charlie sat on the floor organizing new activities that everyone could do. All while Nifty rushed around nearby, cleaning Sir Pentious' and Dazzle's memorials in the new Hazbin Hotel. She muttered to herself quietly, not bothering Angel and Husk, who sat at the bar. "No one important." Vaggie would mumble, not being able to catch her tone before it could reveal that it was someone less than desirable. Possibly another sinner choosing a path of redemption after the last extermination! Which the thought caused Charlie to gain a burst of energy, barreling onto her feet so quickly that she knocked around the carefully organized slits of paper on the floor. Vaggie tried to protest, saying it was truly no one at the door and Charlie should just leave it alone! But she was never a really good lair, "Oh calm down Vaggie, I'm sure it's no one bad!" Charlie would grin with a wave, her hand touching the crisp and cool metal of the door handle before swinging the door back open. "Hi, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! How can I-" And yet her words fell flat as soon as her eyes were locked onto Adam's - who quickly spun around, pretending like he hadn't just been looking behind him - and was also welcomed by his light groan of annoyance. "Oh fuck me." ". . . help you." Charlie's voice flattened, dropping as her eyes widened. You know, she's never felt this shocked to see someone at the steps of the Hotel before since Alastor had came along without warning.

ᯓ "Adam?!"

ᯓ "BITCH CAN YOU NOT SHOUT MY NAME?!" Was the next words that were exclaimed out of the ex-angel, the now outcast, as he seemed rather eager to push Charlie inside of her own Hotel and walk in after; Quickly shutting the door as though there was someone outside waiting and stalking him, watching him with all their attention. "Hey no, you cannot just let yourself in here this isn't Heaven!" Vaggie was swift to march her way over to the two, seeing as Charlie wasn't doing anything to discard of Adam she might as well do it herself! No way was she going to let some two-timing exorcist angel not only push her girlfriend around yet also push his way into the hotel. Who did he think he is? And yet Charlie waved out a hand, stopping Vaggie in her tracks. There was confusion, and the two at the bar would turn their heads, before scowling seeing the fallen angel. Adam was sure he could hear Angel's accented voice loud and clear shouting out, 'oh what the fuck is this bullshit!' before Charlie began to talk to him again in a rushed fashion; One he remembered quite well during the meeting that Lucifer subbed her in for instead of coming to it himself, and he was still annoyed by her voice. "What are you doing down here? I thought you-! You know . . . " Charlie rushed out, trying to make it quick as though the others at the hotel would jump and kill Adam again with no remorse, finishing the job that clearly didn't stay permeant the first time; And, honestly, Adam wouldn't put it above anyone here to do that. Adam, who had been picking at his teeth with his pinkie finger, would turn away from Charlie and shrug his shoulders, "Yeah, well, I fuckin' did and ended up down here for some fucking reason, probably a mistake and mix up of souls. I'm sure you have plenty of those down here, pft!- I mean who else would want to stay in this charity case!-" "We're not entertaining you Adam!" Vaggie would cut off the ex-angel, causing his interest to peak over at her. Though he relaxed quickly enough, maybe too quickly seeing as Vaggie had drown out her own weapon and that . . . nasty little creature stood beside her with the dagger made out of angelic metal; Now that little one-eyed demon could give Adam the creeps, maybe even a little (lot) fright, but not Vaggie. "You know, I thought were all trying to redeem souls in this junk box of yours." Adam scoffed, quickly crossing his arms with a tilt of his head. "Are you fucking discriminating against me wanting to return to where I rightfully belong just because I was an angel before this? Wow, that's a low blow, especially for someone light you." Adam's voice dripped with sarcasm mixed with malice, maybe even still a little pride. "You literally tried killing up like- 2 weeks ago!" Vaggie would gesture to the side, as though trying to compare time to the length of her arm. "Oh shit it's been too weeks?" Adam paused, thinking about it yet drawing a blank and shrugging in result, "Shit, didn't know, pft! That shit must still be fresh for you then, huh? Well, let me remind you all that you weren't the ones who DIED!-"

ᯓ "Adam?" Your voice would slip out into the common space of the lobby of the hotel, honey sweat to Adam's ears; Filling them with a melody that could match the songs of Heaven, running down his spine with the comfort he didn't know he needed until now. But even then, you knew he wouldn't break his 'tough man' exterior until you managed to snag him along, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. "Holy shit, hey Babe!" Adam was quick, rushing past and slightly pushing Charlie out of his way to make his way over to you, over to his love. "What the fuck are you doing in a dumb like this? I thought you said you had your own fucking spot near Cannibal Town!" - It had been the only reason why he had tried traveling to that cursed town, even while knowing its residents might try and take a bite out of him or his wings. He craved for the familiarity of someone in this new world, as he had never felt this vulnerable since his first days on Eden; Earth. God's Earth. "Babe?" A chorus of confused, slightly concerned, and baffled voices followed as Adam came to your side, swinging an arm around your waist and instantly drawing you closer. You swore he was fighting off the urge to flick off the others, a casual fuck you for trying to push him off and out. You could feel their eyes as you leaned up to pepper a kiss into Adam's shoulder, to which he squeezed your waist slightly tighter, adorning a snicker upon his face. "Wait, wait!-" Vaggie started, taking a staggering step forward as her arms laid limp besides her. One of her eyebrows were cocked up, her eyes narrow, "What do you mean Babe?" Your name left her lips, "Don't tell me you're dating that fucker!" She would soon exclaim, tossing her hands out as they finally regained the life they had lost. To which you would turn towards her confused, and then remember oh yeah . . . the battle. The one you hadn't been present for though heard about through Channel 666 News; In all honesty it's why you had came here, to the Hotel, to see if you could try and get to Heaven and find Adam again - praying he didn't actually die but was taken back to Heaven to heal or was revived in some way. "Uh, yeah. Adam's my boyfriend-" You would start with a wavering smile, nerves tugging at the edge of your lips. "Oh, this couldn't have gotten worse." Angel would groan, slamming his head down onto the bar countertop, acting like a disappointed parent; Silently telling you that you could have done better. To which you placed a hand on your hip, about to tell Angel off, only to be cut off by Husk tsking and shaking his head, "I would not put you as an Angel and sexist fucker, but whatever rows your boat." His tone came off dry, uninterested, and a little hostile. And with Charlie's silence, you couldn't help but feel the weight of everyone's words a little heavier.

ᯓ And Adam noticed that, with one glance down at you and your face, his wings would flare defensively and his glare was snapped back at the other demons. He couldn't care less that they had been talking shit about him, he couldn't care less on how they saw him or the reasons they thought you could do better than him; They shouldn't care about whether or not someone was out of their friend's league if they were clearly happy with the person! That, Adam knew - or maybe he believed it more. "Hey, what your fucking mouths!-" He would start, trying to draw you away from the others. Sure, he was no longer an Angel, but he was sure as hell he could take any of them in a fight anyways! And yet, his anger was snuffed like a candle as soon as you placed your hand on his chest, gently pushing in and pushing him back. The breath of ire was caught in his throat, not even being able to reach his lungs, as he glanced down at you, noticing the spark that you had seemingly stolen right out of his chest and placed in your eyes. He knew your reservations of fighting with friends, or with anyone in general, so he couldn't help but feel pride swell up in his chest watching you stand up for yourself, for you and him: "I will not let you speak about me, nor Adam that way!" You defended, shooting a star through your eyelashes that the group; Who seemed just as taken aback as Adam had been before the warmth spread from his chest. Vaggie would scrunch her face, much more concerned that irritated or disappointed, but also all of that at the same time. Your name slipped from her lips, "You can't be serious! He's . . ." She stumbled for a moment, trying to grasp her words, "He's led genocides on Sinners all over Hell! He's like really gross and he doesn't respect people. He's a douche and a dick!-" "Dick master," Adam would correct Vaggie just to piss her off, earning a slight jag in the gut from you and a snarl from Vaggie. Vaggie, who, tossed out her hands once more, yet pointed at Adam this time, "See what I mean?!"

ᯓ "And tell me how you felt when you first lost your divinity?"

ᯓ The question lingered in the room, drifting and sticking in the air, as Vaggie stared at you with disbelief; Her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide, and her stance rigid. You noticed how Charlie grew nervous behind her, how she seemed rather uncomfortable in the atmosphere that been created in the room since Adam had arrived than you. She would place a hand on Vaggie's shoulders, attempting to comfort her, yet failed to pick out any words to say in response. "It's hard enough to leave somewhere you've called home," You would continue, frowning, "To be tossed out like you had meant nothing, like one mistake had deemed you unworthy despite everything great you have done in your life. Vaggie! . . . out of everyone, I would have thought at least you would understand something like that." Seeing as she had gone through the same process herself, yet had always had Charlie there by her side to walk through everything with. Was she implying that Adam didn't deserve the same because of what he had done? Sure it was crude and cruel, but everyone deserved another chance to mistake their wrongs and that was what this hotel was about; And you voiced such concerns to not just Vaggie but to Charlie as well. What makes Adam so much different from Lucifer, or say another Fallen Angel that managed to wind up down here? What makes him less worthy to be redeemed? What made him less of a human soul as say Angel or Alastor? Everyone fucks up in their life and as long as they're trying to better themselves, understanding what they did wrong and why it was wrong, they should be given a chance!

ᯓ It wasn't long before Charlie said that everyone should take a break, and as such you would lead Adam away from the crowd of people and up to your own room in the Hotel. You could feel Vaggie's eyes linger, you felt like she wanted to say something yet let her words fall short before they were ever given a chance. But, even if they had, you were too pent up to even discuss anything logically with her at the moment. And you think she could feel or at least tell and that's why her words fell short, yet you would never know - you're not Vaggie nor would you ever think like she does.

ᯓ You and Adam found yourselves in your bed after settling some matters, such as a change of clothing for him and whether or not you wanted to try and make the trip back to your apartment today; Luckily you had some of Adam's old T-shirts and joggers you had stolen from him from one of the few trips where Adam had snuck you into Heaven - and yet on the same note, either of you felt like going downstairs to face anyone to leave to your apartment. So, with not much to do, you set the TV on as background noise and brain fuzz as you snuggled up to Adam's side. You felt as his claws, at first, scratched gently at his side, pairing with a kiss on the forehead, and then they began to tap the flesh there; Like you were some little drum that made no noise, yet Adam continued until he switched to rubbing his thumb against your hip. "What's wrong, Adam?" Concern dripped from your lips, forcing Adam to draw his eyes away from the mindless television and down to meet you, and your eyes. He had known your attention had been up at him for a while, at first admiring his face (as you didn't get to see it much) yet it had shifted to concern the more he played with the plush flesh of your waist. He wondered if you could tell he was nervous from the start. Adam's eyes would falter and glance off to TV again, his words causing a lump in his throat as he tried to play through them; Trying to find the best combination to spew out instead of talking without thinking - vomiting whatever first came to mind and not thinking about it later. And maybe you could tell the trepidations that filled his head too; Seeing as you shifted your position from his side, pushing yourself up, and instead onto his lap, effectively blocking his vision of the television. Your hands rested on his chest, something so natural at this point yet something that still caused Adam's lungs to halt for a minute and for his stomach to flutter. Even so, he would give you a curious glance up and down, trancing the curves of your body with his eyes as he has done countless times before - yet every time, you managed to take his breath away. "If you wanted to fuck, babe, you could have just said so!" The snarky remark left his lips, meeting your amused yet disapproving face. He knew that's not what you wanted, yet he couldn't help but entertain yourself when you were basically straddling his waist; As such, his fingers would drag along the calf of your leg before his hands would trail up your thighs before tailing back down and up once more. He saw the flutter in your breath, yet you tried to keep your composure. Even if Adam was making it ever so hard.

ᯓ "Adam," You would start, your tone causing Adam to stop caressing your thighs. It stuck his eyes to yours, and he couldn't look away no matter how much his nerves pulled at him to. "I want you to know, no matter what happens . . . I'm here for you, okay? We're in this together. You're not a solo act anymore, we're a duet . . . or, well, more a duo act." Your words sunk down into Adam's skin, they infected through his lungs and ran to his heart before infecting all his blood and his veins. His hands, which had ran up to hold your waist, gave a gentle squeeze as he swallowed down the saliva that built up in his suddenly dry mouth. A duo act? Sure, he knew you two were dating, that you had been for a while, yet even then he had a silent thought in the back of his head that you would leave him, much like the others; So he never considered himself no more than what he had: A soloist. First Man Adam! . . . but now he was able to add being 'Yours' to his list with some sort of fire-like confidence; Burning and bright. It made his heart catch fire, even more so when you would stretch out lightly and lean down to lay down on his chest; Your warmth infecting all of him you touched, allowing his arms to wrap around your back and for his wings to fluff out and wrap around your frame. It was like he wanted to shield you from the world, shield you from Heaven, shield you from everyone and anything that wanted to hurt you. Sure he had the urge before, but now? . . . "You heard that big man?" Your voice broke through his thoughts, your teasing smirk had him fighting for a breath. You would playfully nudge his shoulder, "You're stuck with me, I'm stuck with you're, we're stuck together so you better be getting used to it! I'll fight for you, you fight for me, and we'll get back to that stupid place that outcasted you in the first place!" But he would like to stay here, with you, forever. "And we'll show Charlie and Vaggie that it can be done and that even if you fucked up you have a good heart in you! . . . Because I know you do under all the gunk." And your laughter had never sounded so sweet, and you touch has never felt so soft and loving.

ᯓ A duo act, huh? With you? Adam could get used to and stand behind that thought; Perhaps, even after all this time, he wanted nothing more than to hear those words, or well the meaning of those words, from your mouth since the start.

ᯓ But even then, with the emotions that swelled Adam's heart with nothing but pure love, he couldn't help but nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent filled his nose with a warmth he missed, the soft skin of your neck flushed against his smirking lips, a feeling he longed for and couldn't forget. You were perfect, you always had been! "Fuck, Babe, when you say pretty shit like that, it's hard not to fuck you right here and now." Adam would groan before a loud cackle left his lips as soon as you smacked his back. All too used to his ways, you couldn't do much yet shake your head against Adam's shoulder, like a parent scolding their child for saying something offensive. "You ruined the mood Adam!" The huff escaped your lips, it hit Adam's neck and made goosebumps spring up his arms. "Again!" And yet, you didn't protest as Adam tossed you both into your sides with a fever, still cackling as though this was the funniest joke in the world - and you couldn't deny, you loved the sound of his laughter so much. Even as his stubble would tickle your neck as he did so, causing you to start laughing soon after and trying to push his head away from your neck. "Adam! Oh my god, Adam stop that tickles!" You gasped between breaths, struggling to push your boyfriend away as he found joy in your lighthearted misery. Though he would only curl around your frame, not answering your desperate calls of a truce and a stop, and trap you in his arms and wings with no remorse. "You're stuck with me Babe, you said it yourself! Now come here, let me kiss that pretty fucking face of yours until you can't breath!"

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[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. warnings for more mentions of death and jungkook being an idiot

part five: the phone call, the apology and the confession  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xii. the phone call

  being on the farm made you feel like a kid again - that was a given. when you were young, you often made your chores into games, to see how fast you could feed the chickens or tend to crops. however, being the sole individual responsible for upkeep and for the way the farm was now your source of income, it was evidently no longer a fun little game when barbies got boring. while you were in charge of your own schedule, you eventually hit the point where you felt like all of your energy was gone everyday. one of the only things that was keeping you sane was your friends.

  on the other hand, jungkook was having the exact opposite effect - driving you insane. for more than one reason.

  the email blast for movie night was originally forwarded to you by taehyung and you did accept, which you ultimately regretted come the night of. you usually didn’t partake in much during the week, as you reserved your social battery for the saloon on the weekends, but you didn’t see any issue upon receiving the invitation. 

  “do you want me to make you a coffee?” jungkook offered, as he stood across from you on the opposite end of taehyung’s kitchen island.

  it was the usual cluster of people gathered in taehyung’s charming bungalow, close to the river. you’d never been in a group of friends that were so adamant to their dedication of spending time together and not using work or school as an excuse to shut themselves in. most of the boys had brought food or drinks without any prior arrangement or communication, resulting in an abundance to share.

  you were glad you thought of picking up a bottle of wine beforehand and wasn’t the odd one out, but with your fatigue, you knew you weren’t going to be able to enjoy it yourself. it was the day for cleaning pens and sorting waste, so you’d been outside all day and smelled exactly like your chores. even though you took a lengthy shower and mentally prepared for movie night, you were exhausted beyond measure. 

  you shook your head. “i’m okay, thank you. i have to get up at five tomorrow.”

  from behind you, seokjin emerged from the living room and despite the current movie only halfway through - it was apparently jungkook’s pick, captain america: the first avenger - it looked like he was ready to leave. leftovers in hand, he brought jungkook in for a quick side hug and then did the same for you.

  “bye guys! sorry i have to leave early. y/n, i’ll come by tomorrow after work for the eggs?” seokjin beamed, leaning on the door frame and you noticed a handful of pink carnations in his grasp.

  you gave him a thumbs up. slowly, but surely, the tides were turning for the farm and making profit. you didn’t lack confidence that you would be able to make money for yourself, but you were unsure of how long it would take for your income sources to be stabilized. building a customer base off of the farm’s longstanding customers was easier than expected, but you had to work on improving efficiency and diversification of your products. at the end of the day, though, you were just one person and you were doing well. 

  this is what you continued to attempt to explain to your parents. shortly after seokjin’s departure, before you could join the rest of your friends and finish the movie, you received a call from your father and you excused yourself to taehyung’s backyard.

  your mother was the type to be overbearing and overprotective, while your father had a knack for criticizing you and making you question yourself. since moving, you seldom provided business updates to your father, which likely led to this phone call in the first place.

  “you’ve thought about how you’ll need to make further investments, right?” his voice was dry and it made your blood boil.

  breathing in deeply, you simply replied, “yes.”

  “okay, have you been managing your time well? the physical demands of the job?”

  it was as if your dad kept rattling off a list of reasons why you were incompetent for your role and you didn’t notice until now, but you had dug half-crescent moons into the palm of your hand. no matter how many times you said yes or that you had it covered, he continued going.

  by the time you finally escaped the phone call, you already began thoughts of doubt and wondering if he was on to something. you were saying you were handling things, but were you really? your worn down, sore body was screaming at you as you pondered.

  eventually, the sliding door into the house creaked open and you remembered where you were. jungkook appeared, having slipped on a denim jacket to combat the slight wind in the air and stepped out to the deck. there was a small frown drawn on his face.

  “you okay?” he asked.

  nearing a month in town and several weeks of jungkook’s presence becoming a constant around the farm, it was safe to say that the two of you grew close once again. it was more than you were willing to admit, that was for sure. it still surprised you when you heard how harsh your tone was when you opened your mouth.

  “i need to go home,” you snapped. you could feel your eyelids growing heavy, too, and you couldn’t be around anyone but yourself right now.

  jungkook raised his eyebrows. “already? that’s too bad, you missed most of the movie.”

  “just gotta go,” you mumbled, stuffing your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

  you got up, remembering that you left your sweater indoors, but jungkook still stood in front of the door. you had to hold back from grumbling.

  “i was hoping you’d go for a ride with me before you went home.”

  “a ride?” you sputtered. “no, i can’t do that.” your response was immediate and you noticed the way his eyes widened for a moment, as if he said something wrong. you were too tired to clarify how tired you were or how you haven’t been able to bring yourself to attempt riding again. it was a topic of discussion for another day.

  jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. “oh, okay.” and just like that, you side-stepped right past him and into the house to grab your things.

  the exit was unceremonious and it was fast, as you were holding back tears from the phone call with your father. you could vaguely recall jungkook asking you if he could walk you home, but you already flew out the door. your body was shaking the entire time after the conversation and you could only focus on making it home.

  your heart was in your throat and your shoulders were tense, as your head hung down the entire walk back to the farmhouse. you knew things weren’t going to magically be easy, but you at least thought you were doing a good job. you only wanted your parents to think the same.

  amidst your physical and mental exhaustion, you realized you took a wrong turn and weren’t sure where you were. your chest tightened and you could only wonder what kind of bad luck you rolled for the day. cheeks wet from stray tears, you wanted to scream.

you pulled your phone out, only realize it was a dead battery. maybe you were as helpless as your dad kept making you out to be, since you seemed to always find yourself in these kinds of situations. a cold breeze danced around your body and you shivered aloud. 

  “y/n?” 

  you recognized the voice to be seokjin, who no longer held flowers and seemed to be heading home. you hastily wiped your face, which he didn’t miss. he tentatively approached closer.

  “the farm is the other way, where are you going at this time of night?” seokjin asked gently.

  “i guess i took a wrong turn,” you sighed, hoping the way your breath shook when you did so wasn’t so obvious.

  seokjin offered to walk you back home and this time, in all your weariness, accepted. you peered over as the two of you walked and saw jungkook’s name flash on his phone. you remembered how you left the house and a heavy load of guilt settled in your stomach. you made the metal note to apologize to him tomorrow. 

  “i thought you had somewhere to be?” you tried breaking the awkward silence. 

  seokjin never missed a hangout with the boys and even if he had somewhere to go, he made sure that he provided snacks or anything of the sort to his friends. he was the type to take care of everyone. even you, a newcomer to town, seokjin didn’t forget to make you an extra cookie when he made some for the boys or save a seat for you at the saloon. 

  his smile seemed different than usual. “i made a quick stop to the cemetery to say hi to my wife.”

  you broke eye contact, looking down. you weren’t sure until that moment, but over the past month, you were forming the idea that seokjin’s wife wasn’t around. you connected the dots, but didn’t want to ask anyone for confirmation. 

  “can i ask how long?” you spoke slowly.

  “two years today. taehyung didn’t know what day it was when he planned the movie, but i insisted that everyone go on with the plans and i would just leave early.” 

  he explained that he moved to amber valley to be with his wife four years ago, before she passed away due to a terminal illness. you couldn’t even imagine. like jungkook, you would have never been able to tell with seokjin. you wondered if it was the same for others when they interacted with you, if the remnants of your grief were evident in your day-to-day motions. 

  you said, “loss is a funny thing. it follows you everywhere and you don’t notice until you remember to turn around.”

  “that means loss is also something that you have to leave behind you, y/n. it’s not easy, but you get there.” the small smile on seokjin’s face, whose energy never faltered, was comforting. “it’s people like you and jungkook that inspire me to look forward from loss. i think we’re all doing well for ourselves.”

  before the conversation with seokjin, you wouldn’t have been able to agree with that. you’d spend the last hour or so dwelling on the things you weren’t doing right or weren’t doing enough of. but, he was right. you were doing your absolute best and that was all that mattered. 

  xiii. the apology

  the days that followed, you saw less and less of jungkook. deep down, you knew it was your fault. you didn’t mean to storm out on him after the call with your dad and you lacked opportunities to apologize. he still replied to your texts, albeit with less enthusiasm and playfulness than usual. it seemed like he had legitimate excuses to step away from the farm, though, having heard from taehyung that mrs. oh was sick that week and jungkook had to take on more at work.

  you decided to take matters into your own hands. after failing to appear at the saloon that weekend, you decided to take an extra long lunch break on sunday and found yourself walking over to his store. this wasn’t the first time you visited him at work - in fact, you stopped by earlier in the week because you were passing by and you wanted to bother him. it wouldn’t be out of place for you to pop in.

  “is jungkook not here?” you asked sangwoo, mrs. oh’s thirteen year old son who was propped up in front of the register, watching a tv show on his phone. 

  sangwoo’s bored eyes looked up at you. “dunno. he’s not working today.”

  that was strange. you thought that was the part of the reason why he couldn’t come by the farm. you thanked the boy and left the store, wondering what you should do next. you contemplated texting him, but he left the meme you sent last night on delivered.

  as you walked back to the farm, you decided to take an early left turn and soon ended up in front of jungkook’s house. since moving back, this was actually your first time seeing his house again. it looked mostly untouched from your memories and you noticed that the white pick-up truck that once belongs to jungkook’s dad was still kept in the driveway. the tree in his front yard still had the same tire swing that you once almost broke your neck fooling around on.

  you weren’t entirely sure about what you were doing to say when he opened the door. you decided against outright accusing him of avoiding you, even though that was exactly what you thought he was doing. maybe take a page out of his book and conjure up a wild excuse.

  when you rang the doorbell, you realized there was no sound that followed and softly knocked instead. in a few moments, the door creaked open, just enough for you to make out jiwon’s big eyes.

  “oh, hi y/n!” her toothy smile reminded you of her big brother.

  you mirrored the smile. “hi jiwon. do you mind getting jungkook?”

  she opened the door wider and you could make out the living room behind her. there, you noticed hoseok fast asleep on the leather recliner seat in front of the television. jiwon quietly put a finger to her pursed lips, pointing to hoseok’s sleeping figure. she stepped out and you made space for her, as she closed the door. 

  “your brother is out?” you asked.

  jiwon nodded, clutching onto the teddy bear in her hand. it was the same one that once belonged to jungkook. you remembered because when you guys turned eleven, you made fun of him for a whole summer straight for still carrying it around. her other hand held a handheld electric fan to ward off the amber valley summer heat.

  “he took leo to the vet. why are you looking for him?” she sang the last part, swinging back and forth, looking up at you with a smirk that seemed to know more than you did. 

  you assumed leo was jungkook’s horse, knowing he continued to keep them at his house. that instilled a sense of relief in you, as it made you think less than he was intentionally avoiding you. your bubble was shortly burst.

jiwon sat down on the porch bench. “oh, and he’s definitely avoiding you!”

  “what?” you blinked, thinking that you didn’t hear her correctly.

  “i said hoseok is the worst sitter, i’m bored with nothing to do.”

  this little girl was definitely jeon jungkook’s sister, the mischievous glint in her eyes was all the proof you needed. 

  for the next half an hour, despite having only left the farm for a quick break, you broke out in conversation with jiwon and enjoyed chatting with her. you always wanted a sister and you always complained that god gave you jungkook as a friend instead. you couldn’t believe how bubbly and intelligent jiwon was for her age.

  jiwon was sitting crisscrossed, playing with the arm of her stuffed animal. “unnie. . .” you didn’t even flinch when she called you that, instead smiling. “can i ask you something?”

  “sure, jiwon,” you replied.

  she looked off to where her dad’s old truck was parked. “can you tell me what my parents were like? oppa gets kind of upset when i ask.” 

  you froze. the last month, you were dedicated to connecting with the valley once more. over time, you remembered the smell of coffee in town square and the way the sand on the beach shone like glitter. you remembered what it was like having neighbours and how cutting fresh grass felt like home. it was gradual, but you were slowly getting there. regardless, some memories only lived in picture frames and buried in your mind, underneath years that have gone by.

  “they were the best people,” you offered, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself on the same porch with jungkook as kids, where his dad taught you two how to play chess and his mom would always come out with iced tea after a long day. “your dad was the kind of man who was good at everything. he showed jungkook and i how to fly a kite, how to play chess - “

  “i love chess!” she interrupted, the smile on her face widening at the thought of her dad sharing something with her.

  like jungkook, jiwon looked at the brighter side of life. it was admirable. you could only wish it was contagious. 

  jiwon began swinging her legs on the bench. “i have the best oppa, but i feel bad for him sometimes. he was really smart when you were little, right?”

  “as smart as he can be with that dense skull of his,” you joked, which made jiwon giggle.

  she said, “did you go to college? i know oppa didn’t go to college so he could take care of me. . .”

  you reassured jiwon that jungkook only wanted the best for her and that he was happy right now. at that moment, you made out his figure approaching, walking with his horse by his side. you quickly stood up and you didn’t notice the way jiwon smiled in satisfaction when she watched you do so.

  “y/n? what are you doing here?” jungkook was puzzled at your appearance. 

  before you could answer, jiwon interjected. “can unnie watch me next time?” she was giddy, holding onto your arm. your heart warmed, knowing that jiwon took a liking to you.

  “jiwon, you know y/n is always busy,” jungkook scolded, pinching her nose. “sorry, i know she’s a handful.” he turned to you, apologetically.

  “hey!” jiwon piped, but he waved her off.

  you shook your head. “actually, i wouldn’t mind at all. i’d love to look after her whenever you need.”

  jungkook’s eyes softened. he cleared his throat and gestured for jiwon to come closer to him. he whispered something in her ear and handed over leo’s lead rope to her, presumably directing for her to take the horse behind the house. she rolled her eyes at him and did so.

  it was just the two of you now, standing underneath the beating sun. his cowboy hat protected his face, while you were covered partially by the house. still, he came closer and gently tugged you into the house, murmuring something about the heat wave that week.

  like the set-up of the farmhouse, there were several electric fans on at once inside. now that you were able to observe closer, you saw that jungkook’s house was a lot different than what you remembered. the furniture was different and was arranged differently. the old fireplace was closed up. his kitchen was no longer filled to the brim with snacks, as his mother used to keep it, and the only thing on his counter was a coffee machine. 

  “i wanted to change things up when they passed away, so i wouldn’t dwell so much,” he spoke, as if reading your mind. 

  there was only one picture that you recognized on the walls, being one of you and jungkook when you were approximately six years old. captured was the same living room, where the two of you were playing with power rangers figures. everything else was foreign, mostly recent pictures of jiwon. there was a single family portrait by the staircase, which depicted a toddler-aged jiwon and a teenage jungkook.

  you snapped out of it when you heard hoseok’s snores, still fast asleep a few feet away from you. jungkook snorted when he noticed. his voice remained at the same volume, unbothered.

  “why did you come by?” jungkook put his keys on the table next to the entryway. 

  you sighed. “i just wanted to apologize for the other night. i’ve been under a lot of pressure and my body was so exhausted that day, too.”

  he nodded slowly. “it’s okay. i was just. . .worried about you. jin told me he ran into you on your way home.”

  “yeah, i had a lot going on.” you brushed off imaginary dust off your tank top. “i didn’t mean to intrude, sorry.”

  jungkook assured you everything was fine and you did believe him in the moment. however, for the next week that followed, it appeared as though everything was but. you weren’t sure what affirmations you were chasing, but you were aware that things were off with him.

things were normal when you hung around everyone else, but jungkook still hadn’t returned to his usual routine with you of coming around the farm. he was lively when you conversed at the saloon or when you ran into each other in town, but it seemed like an invisible wall was erected between the two of you and you had no idea where it came from. you, being you, made it your mission to figure out why.

  xiv. the confession

  yoongi gave you a deadpan expression when you came to him for advice. you didn’t actually mean to come to him for advice, but as you happened to run into him at the hardware store, the sales clerk made a side comment that you couldn’t ignore.

  “where’s your boyfriend? don’t you two usually come in together?” she asked you, as you came in to check out new work boots. 

  you were perplexed when you realized she was talking about jungkook. for the previous weeks, you accompanied jungkook to the hardware store whenever he found a new excuse of a repair to help out with. 

  “he’s working today,” said a voice behind you and you turned around, seeing it was yoongi with insect repellant in his hand.

  the sales clerk seemed pleased with the answer. “oh, i see! i was just surprised, i’ve never seen you without him at your side!”

  “hi yoongi, nice seeing you,” you said, after giving the young lady a polite fake laugh.

  the two of you made small talk about the weather and walked out together. when you made it outside, you decided to be blunt.

  “i made jungkook upset, didn’t i?”

  he looked at you blankly. “no, he’s just under the impression that you’re overwhelmed with work and feels like he’s been ‘too much’” yoongi made air-quotes, as if repeating back jungkook’s exact words.

  “in what way?” you questioned.

  “i literally just said - oh, you guys are so clueless with each other.” yoongi squeezed his eyes shut. “bless your heart, honestly.”

even though a part of you felt it every time you opened your front door and saw jungkook, or even just seeing his name pop up on your phone, you remained silent. what were you to even say to that?

  he said, “oh, come on. even the little teenager at the hardware store can see that the two of you have feelings for each other.”

  sometime in between sharing meals together, sneaky glances when the other wasn’t looking and unassuming banter, there were undefined feelings that settled in the cracks. there was understanding and there was nostalgia. what you felt for jungkook you had yet to calculate. there was no other answer to what drove you towards him. 

  that same night, you decided it was time to put your foot down. you texted jungkook, confirming dinner with him and asked to meet you at the saloon. that was mistake number one. you don’t know why you thought it was going to be a good idea and realized where you went wrong when you entered, noticing that a few of your friends were lingering. it shouldn’t have surprised you, considering it was everyone’s typical hangout spot.

  you waved to hoseok and taehyung, declined jimin’s offer of a beer, and sat down at the very back of the bar. you hoped that this would be a sufficient sign for them to leave you be and then, jungkook walked in. you pretended to not notice and he walked over to your friends, greeting them and chatting with them briefly. namjoon then pointed towards you and you groaned, knowing that the boys were about to spectate your conversation.

  “hey, y/n. did you order yet?” jungkook smiled, taking the seat across from you. you saw a thumbs up from namjoon, away from everyone else’s line of vision, and you wanted to face palm.

  you shook your head. “how are you?” 

  today, he was dressed in his typical attire. all black, wearing dark denim and a wife beater tank. jungkook took off his hat when he walked in and placed it next to him. every outfit he wore seemed to expose his beautiful tattoos and it was always hard to not stare. you got a glimpse of his chest pieces a few times when he was working on the farm and the heat proved too aggressive for him, which prompted him to go shirtless. it was cute when he hurriedly covered up when you approached at these times, apparently too shy to be half-naked around you.  

  jungkook began talking about work and apologized for not coming around as much. the small talk made you even more nervous, having walked in and ready to lay down the law. the thoughts about him and what you thought were unresolved feelings between you and him were following you like bees to honey. despite this, you grew less confident as the mundane conversation dragged on. the two of you continued chatting and the subject eventually changed to the upcoming midsummer fair.

  “so, who are you taking to the fair? it’s become more of a ‘couple’ thing in recent years.” jungkook’s tone was breezy and casual, but you nearly choked on your water. 

  you tried to compose yourself, breathing as deeply as you could without making it obvious. “oh, really?”

this was your time to confess. the idea made you nauseous, as if you were a school girl. you took a breath. 

“yeah. you know. . .” jungkook trailed off, in thought. “taehyung seems to have taken a liking to you. you should ask him!” 

  did he just say taehyung? a plastic smile stretched across your lips, as you took a second to take it in. the enthusiasm on jungkook’s features confused you in a way you had never been confused before. you were reading everything wrong. the small touches, the big gestures. you couldn’t believe everything was all in your head. 

  “look, taehyung and i have gotten close since he moved to town. i’ll help you out,” jungkook declared. “you’re gonna need it, ugly.”

  “shut up!” you chuckled through your teeth, neither agreeing or arguing with him. you were still in a state of surprise.

  by the time the two of you began eating, it was just a few other patrons left in the saloon. a quiet thursday night, but your mind was screaming with just about a hundred different things and you could only smile and nod at jungkook, who was explaining taehyung’s ideal type. when jungkook got up to use the bathroom, you caught namjoon and hoseok’s eyes from the bar.

  when the former gave you a thumbs up, you could only respond with the most aggressive thumbs down possible.

  𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

[sellenite]

Girl you're FEEDING the Choso simps with your cherry blossom series! I love it sm, and I was hoping you could do a fluffy normal!AU?

Maybe Choso can be a TA/Tutor for an upper division college class and Reader is a senior in undergrad. He can tutor her in office hours, they become friends, then eventually hang out once classes are over?

(I'll let you decide if there's NSFW in there ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

pairing: TA!Choso x fem!reader contents: fluff, no smut (but implied at end), Choso and reader are both a little shy/awkward word count: 2.9K notes: I thought this idea was so cute, and I had some fluffy ideas for college AU Choso and reader so I hope this is what you were looking for <3 SFW :)

Choso Kamo wasn’t exactly what you would call a “social butterfly.” He never had been much of a talker, even before the twins passed away. But as his undergraduate years floated past him, he had failed to make so much as a single lasting friendship—driven firstly by grief, and second by natural introversion.

When Eso and Kechizu died, Choso had just started his freshman year of college. It was a stupid accident; the two of them driving home from a late football practice—a practice he would have been there to pick them up from if he were home—when they got hit by a drunk driver. They were cruel and pointless deaths, and Choso had a difficult time accepting them.

He didn’t go home after that summer; there was nothing left for him there. His mother had long since forgotten about him, too busy with her new husband and her new family. But he supposed the one good thing his mother’s remarriage gave him was his half-brother, Yuji. Yuji was the only person Choso had left, and he called him almost every week between his graduate studies.

Choso was on a pre-medical track with a specialization in hematology—the subject just seemed to come naturally to him. He felt he owed it to Eso and Kechizu to do something with his life, to help people if he could. It had been hard work—and he had near-permanent circles under his eyes to show for it—but he found an odd comfort in suffocating his misery with never-ending lab assignments and exams. However, his solitary habits left little room for friendships to grow; Choso found most of his undergraduate—and now graduate—nights alone, either with a textbook in hand or on the phone with Yuji. He was envious of his half-brother in a way; making friends always came so naturally to him.

Choso had learned to adapt to his loneliness until he didn’t notice it anymore. So his professor was more than a little shocked when he saw Choso had applied for the teaching assistant position. To be fair, he surprised himself as well, but he was putting himself through college and some financial help was better than none at all. And that was exactly how he had wound up being your Clinical Hematology TA. The laboratory class was known for being difficult, but it was one of the last remaining requirements you needed for your biology degree.

Choso wasn’t the best teacher—you didn’t think anyone would argue against that—but it was obvious he knew his stuff. He never needed notes—let alone the skeletal slideshow projected onto the laboratory whiteboard—when the professor had him lead lectures or experiments, but he was so soft-spoken. The subject of hematology he knew as if it were his closest friend—in an admittedly lonely way—but public speaking was far from his area of expertise. You often found other students zoning out or easily drowning Choso’s voice out with their own quiet chatter.

You followed along the best you could though. Sometimes you found yourself a little confused when Choso’s already-quiet voice would grow more muted, as if he were speaking to himself rather than to an entire class. But you still found yourself listening to Choso diligently. He was charming, in a sad, quiet sort of way you thought. He had an aloofness about him that made him seem somewhat intimidating to you at first; he didn’t talk to anyone unless there was a question, and he didn’t linger for a moment longer after the professor dismissed him at the end of their lectures.

But you felt that was more to him than the cold front he seemed to put up, and every once in a while you could see cracks in his stoic mask. You could see it in the way he sometimes let out a long sigh when he wasn’t needed in class, his deep brown eyes gazing out the window, distantly. The way he always seemed to rub over the same silver ring he always wore on his right hand when he was presenting. The heavy circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in months, half-heartedly covered by smudges of charcoal eyeliner.

Your simple observations began to turn into questions—How old was he? Did he go out on the weekends? Who did he hang out with? What kinds of movies did he like to watch? Did he have a girlfriend?—until (unintentionally) you realized you may have developed more than a small crush on your TA. But you had carried out most of the semester thus far without talking to him, so you doubted anything would change. He was your TA, you were his student; it was best to leave it at that, was it not?

Choso was the TA for your specific class, but there were other graduate students that the professor had to teach in his other time sessions. However (as with most of your other college classes), all TAs had office hours open to students no matter the section they were in. Choso had gotten used to his usually being empty. He didn’t mean to seem cold, or off-putting; it was just in his nature to be quiet. Yet, unfortunately, his modest tendencies led most students to seek help from some of the other, friendlier TAs.

Choso still made sure he was present during all of his office hours, though—it was kind of the job, anyway. But being as he spent most of them alone (sometimes the professor would be present as well), he had started using the time as a dedicated study hour. He found his way to the hematology laboratory and unlocked the door, preparing for yet another hour spent alone in the sterile room. At least there are windows, he thought to himself; he couldn’t remember the last time he had spent more than twenty minutes outside at one time.

But just as he was beginning to pull out his own work, he heard a soft knock at the laboratory door. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked up, almost forgetting from how many sessions he had spent alone that students were supposed to be at these. You opened the door slowly, a little cautiously even, slightly poking your head in. And you couldn’t help the reflexive way in which your eyes slightly widened and a faint blush spread across your cheeks at the sight of Choso sitting alone at the front desk of the classroom.

“Oh! Hi, I’m Y/N… I’m in your Clinical Hematology class…” You started to introduce yourself, feeling more flustered than you had hoped or expected you would be now that you were talking to Choso one-on-one.

“I know,” Choso said back—maybe a little too quickly, he worried. “I mean, I’ve seen you before… You usually sit by the window, right?” He asked you, in that deep yet soft voice of his.

You mentally kicked yourself for the way you felt your heart fall into your stomach as a small smile formed on your lips. He knows me? You thought to yourself as you nodded back to him, stepping into the classroom a little more.

“Yeah, I do,” you smiled warmly at him, recovering some of your nervousness. You watched as Choso slid a notebook back into his backpack.

“Well… Is there anything I can help you with today?” He asked you politely, and you suddenly remembered the reason you had come to office hours in the first place. You felt your cheeks burn slightly and you hoped that Choso (somehow) wouldn’t notice. You nodded again as you swallowed a lump in your throat, sitting down in the chair opposite the teacher’s desk. You couldn’t help but notice how pretty (albeit tired) his eyes were up close, the brown of them so warm that they almost looked red when the light caught them right.

“It’s this upcoming lab report,” you started gently, trying not to get distracted by all of the beautiful details you never had the honor of seeing—the dark purple color on his nails, his long eyelashes, the way the right corner of his mouth tipped up ever-so-slightly as you sat down… You pulled your lab notebook from your backpack, placing it on the table between the two of you. “I have all of my data from the experiment, but the numbers just aren’t adding up…”

Your visit to Choso’s office hours confirmed two of your suspicions: not only was he intelligent, but he was also much kinder than many might assume at first glance. (And he was incredibly beautiful—with particularly nice hands—but there had never been a doubt in your mind if either of those things were true.) He had this gentle way of explaining things, checking in to make sure you understood before he moved on to anything else. It made you feel like he had done this a hundred times, even though you were confident that he didn’t have particularly busy office hours. You had—somewhat ashamedly—only been able to nod along as he explained where the calculations in your data had gone wrong, nervous that if you spoke your voice may waver and reveal that you were harboring a not-so-secretive crush on him.

And when the errors in your calculations revealed that you would need to rerun the experiment again, not only did Choso offer to help you get set up, but to be your stand-in lab partner, too.

 Choso moved around the room with ease, gathering the blood samples and necessary equipment as if he did this every day—which in a way, you supposed he did. He guided you gently, explaining in his soft voice where you had gone wrong, helping you to learn from your mistakes. He was currently looking through a compound microscope at a red blood cell sample, adjusting the magnification to be at the correct level.

“And if you look here…” He began as he lifted his eyes away from the lens, sliding the microscope toward you. “You’ll see the irregularities in the shape of the cell membrane…” You began to lower your eyes to the microscope, moving to place your hand on the side of the base—without bothering to look—when you were met with warm, soft skin, instead of the cold plastic of the instrument. You quickly (although reluctantly) removed your hand from Choso’s with a small gasp.

“Oh, um, I’m so sorry!” You let out a nervous laugh, looking up at Choso bashfully. You gestured to the microscope a little awkwardly. “After you,” you finished as calmly as you could muster, only to wince at yourself when you remembered that Choso didn’t actually need the microscope anymore—he had just been passing it to you.

Choso shook his head and smiled at you as an emotion you had never seen on his stoic face flashed through his eyes; something akin to amusement, or—if you dared—maybe joy. “No, I insist,” he said with the gentlest trace of a smile gracing his lips. Your eyes lingered on each other’s for a moment longer than necessary before you gave a quick nod and a “Thank you,” before you turned back to look through the microscope. Choso cleared his throat as you bent down to rest your eyes against the lens. 

“Um, as I was saying…” Although he would never admit it, he had only realized when your palm faintly rested on the back of his hand how long it had been since he had touched anyone, since anyone had touched him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been hugged, let alone hold someone’s hand or kissed them. He was thankful you had been looking through the microscope after that because he could feel the heat in his cheeks reach a blistering height. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts of you and your touch from his mind the best he could as you straightened up from the lens.

You wrapped up the experiment fairly quickly after that, but the awkward yet sweet moment lingered in both of your minds throughout the rest of the meeting. You helped Choso clean up the lab, returning all of the equipment to their proper homes as you thanked him profusely for helping you. He only nodded, a sincere smile on his face as he assured you it was no issue at all. And before you left he called out to you:

“Don’t be a stranger,” a soft, sheepish smile on his face handsome face.

And a stranger you were not. You started going to Choso’s office hours once a week, under the pretense that you wanted to make sure you were prepared for the professor’s weekly exams. Choso never pointed out that you didn’t actually need his help, and he would “tutor” you for a couple of minutes before the conversation inevitably shifted onto more personal topics.

You found out that Choso had a younger half-brother named Yuji. That he didn’t go out most weekends because he kept himself busy with his studies. That his favorite food was tonkatsu ramen with extra pork, and he liked watching horror movies, something he and Yuji did together a lot. That he used to be afraid of the dark when he was a kid, but he never let it show because then his younger brothers would be scared too. The weeks passed and you grew closer to Choso, exchanging little bits of information about yourself until a genuine friendship had blossomed. He eventually told you about his younger brothers, the twins, Eso and Kechizu. How they passed right after Choso started college, and how their deaths had shaped him—in a sad sort of way—into the man he was now.

You had expressed your sympathy, of course, but there was also a quiet respect you held for Choso after hearing his story. He had seemed so calm, unshakable on the outside. To think he had been dealing with so much pain in secret, and for so many years… You didn’t know whether to cry or commend him for his strength. He had opened up to you more than once that day, also revealing how much he had retreated from the outside world after his brothers’ deaths. And how now, he was embarrassed to admit that he didn’t have very many friends.

“Well, I would argue that one is as good a place to start as any,” you assured him with a bright smile, and Choso’s heart swelled. After that day you invited him to hang out with you for the first time. It was just a few days after Halloween, so why not watch a horror movie together? Choso accepted with a boyish grin that spread slowly across his face, the widest smile you had ever seen grace his lips.

The first time you kissed Choso, you were both a little drunk. You had taken him to one of your friend’s parties, an early celebration to welcome in the approaching holiday season. You and Choso had retreated to the kitchen to take a shot together; your suggestion, as you were secretly looking for the liquid courage to finally make a move. But, ironically enough, Choso had the same thought in mind that night. So when you locked eyes underneath the mistletoe strung from your friend’s ceiling, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation on either end as your lips met. The kiss tasted faintly of pine—that earthy flavor of gin—and tart cranberries, and your mouths were warm and soft against one another’s. The kiss wasn’t hungry, despite the alcohol—maybe a little sloppier than you normally would have kissed—but it didn’t lack any tenderness. The crushes you harbored for each other had flourished over the last few weeks, and the dreamlike satisfaction of tasting each other’s lips for the first time wasn’t something you wanted to rush.

Your first kiss quickly led to your first official date; a dinner celebration in honor of the completion of the semester for both of you. The first snow was just starting to fall as Choso ushered you onto the crowded subway car with him, exploring the city after your meal. Your cheeks were tinged pink from the cold as you huddled close together, chest-to-chest, giddy off of the feeling of your new relationship. Choso’s large palm found your smaller hands, holding your cold fingers to keep them warm as you strolled through the streets searching for hot chocolate. The snow collected on your lashes as it fell, and Choso stopped you more than a few times to brush gently his fingers across your cheek and tell you how pretty you looked. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this way—if he had ever felt this way—about anyone.

“Like an angel,” he said softly, admiring the before he stole a sweet kiss from your smiling lips. The snow fell around you, softly illuminated by the streetlights as he pressed you to the side of a building lining the empty alleyway. You giggled between soft kisses and gentle touches over your winter coats, suddenly unaware of the chill of the air around you. The touches grew needier as your fingers laced into the soft strands of Choso’s hair, his strong body pressing you further against the wall as his hands slid ever so slightly underneath your coat. You broke the kiss to catch your breath, leaning back against the brick as you traced the deep scar that ran over the bridge of his nose—when you asked him he said he had gotten it when he was younger, too long ago to remember. You smiled up at him somewhat mischievously.

“You know what? I just remembered that I have hot chocolate at home…”

[nat-20s]

THE GIRLS (FOURTEEN AND DONNA) ARE FIGHTIIIINNNGGG'

aka Donna has some lingering Feelings on the whole mind wipe thing and she's gonna shout about it <3

The Mess That's Made of Us

She didn’t mean for an outburst. They were having a calm, rational, adult discussion, not a fight. She didn’t even want a fight, not really. But The Doctor, he couldn’t just let it go and let her sort out her big stupid feelings on her own. No, he had to needle, he had to inquire, he had to push. He had to say that “everything had turned out all right, in the end”, and oh, that so wasn’t the fucking point. Nearly choking on the words, she yells out, “What would you have done?!”

After he startles and she has a moment to be thankful no one else is home right now, he’s shockingly even when he replies, “You..you know what I did.”

She lets out a right and proper growl of frustration. Clenching and unclenching her fists a few times in an attempt to ground herself, she grits out, “Not what I meant.”

“Donna, I don’t-”

“I meant, you pedantic little-”

She cuts herself off, takes in a deep breath in and out through her nose, and tries again. “I meant if our roles had been swapped. If I had been the one to take that year away from you, if you were about to have an essential part of the person you had become stripped all away in a moment. How would you have reacted? What. Would you. Have done?”

“I..”

She doesn’t let him finish, collect his thoughts, say pretty words that would fix it all. See, she can push, and push, and push too, now can’t she, Doctor? Generally, Donna doesn’t consider herself a cruel person. Sometimes oblivious, sometimes obnoxious, sometimes inconsiderate, but not cruel. But she knows she’s capable of it. She knows, if she so desires, she can hurt someone. She’s not trying to hurt The Doctor, except that she is, not to wound but to pull him to where she is right now. To make the grief and the rage and the conflict be shared. So she keeps going. “It’s not the same though, right? No, of course not. One year out of a billion, maybe more, that doesn’t make much of a difference, does it? Like forgetting what you had for breakfast that morning, barely a breath. I bet it would’ve been so easy, for you.”

“Donna!”

When he says it, his face is hard, and frustrated, but not cold. That’s something she’s still getting used to, with this new-old face. He used to have the coldest rage she ever saw, standing like a stranger. Now, he doesn’t tend to rage at all. It’s enough to make her clamp her mouth and actually listen for a second.

“Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about? Barely a breath, easy for me? Do you really believe that our time together meant that little to me? Do you really not understand by now? I mean, look at my face, Donna. And this is the second time that I’m completely rearranged myself in memory of you! One day with you changedme. One full year with you? Rewrote me.

So yes, removing my time with you would’ve made a difference. It would’ve made all the difference in the universe. And I don’t know what I would’ve done. If I had to get rid of the part of me that was made from you. I’m not sure I could.”

Such pretty words. And, well, the face in front of her right now does suggest some truth to them. But she can’t quite believe them, and she can’t quite look at said face, so instead her vision drifts over to the Tardis parked outside their kitchen window. Folding her arms and staring listlessly, she counters, “Yeah? Don’t you think you would’ve, I dunno, blinked and gone ‘oh that’s odd’ before putting on one of those manic smiles and inputting the coordinates to Venus in the 15th century, and that would’ve been that?”

Out of the corner of her eye, The Doctor’s face goes through a rapid series of motions that she can almost sort out, before stopping at realization. Oh. She didn’t like that one bit.

“Ah, that’s what you think did happen, huh? You think I flew away in my box and had magical adventures and found someone else in a day. It would make sense, right? Start pallin’ around with the nearest redhead I could find, forget all about me ol’ mate Donna, it’s not like she was gonna remember, so why should I?”

She sniffs, and tilts her face up, and resolutely does not let any tears fall. She also does not look at him.

“Donna, there was no one else, not until I was someone else. You want to know what happened, after I lost you? I broke. And then died. There was no me without you.”

Fuck. He changes his tune then, and she’s pretty sure they’re no longer fighting. They’ve always lacked a talent for it. He comes closer, placing both his hands gently on top of her still crossed arms, and moves until she has to look him in the eye. He even throws in a smile. Damn him to hell, he knows it’s near impossible for her to see her best friend smiling and start smiling a bit herself.

With a breath that borders on being a laugh, he continues, “But you! You got married, and yelled at parking attendants, and had a kid, and you existed. And I can’t regret that, I can’t. So I’m sorry, I really am. I ignored your pleas, and I took some of you away, and I’d do it again. I’d do it every time.”

She lets out a sigh and lets her arms drop to the sides. “I know.”

Wiping a hand down her face, she mixes a huff and a shrug. “Honestly, Doctor? I think I’ve already forgiven you.”

With a nod, she stands up straight and tells him straight, “I think I forgave you the moment it happened. I just..I just need time. I know it’s been years but I’ve only been able to think on it for a week.”

“I understand. Hell, there’s things that take me a couple thousand years to process, so.”

Donna rolls her eyes and let’s out a small chuckle, before opening her arms and saying, “C’mere, spaceman.”

The Doctor quite readily does, and the hug fits just as naturally as it always has. They take a moment to breathe together, and Donna gets to listen to the comforting double rhythm of the two healthy hearts in his chest. The silence is comfortable and the sharpness has eased.

When she pulls back, she can’t help but ask, “Wait, second face? What was the other one?”

“Ah. About that-”

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 3

Summary: You are taken care of and things take a turn for the sinister.

Word Count: 3.1k

CW: Kidnapping, dub-con

You struggled and struggled but Simon, no not Simon, Ghost held your back to his chest in a vice grip. His hand over your mouth muffled your desperate screams, the strength of him so at odds with the syrupy words he was cooing into your ear.

“There baby, I know it’s hard but you’re going to be ok. We’re going to make you ok.”

The high whine of a trapped animal left you, the tendrils of it that could escape his hand barely above audible. You could feel that he was hard at your back, hear the groans coming from him when you struggled against him and gave him friction.

“Fuck sweetheart, need you to stay still.”

Your muscles strained to be free of him as he started rutting against your ass, chasing his own pleasure without realising. It was dark in this closet. You could hear the cops laughing away with the rest of the 141 downstairs, oblivious to the very alive girl being held captive above them. This morning you had found the man behind you sweet, had maybe even felt some sort of giddy crush bubbling away for him. They had seemed so kind and warm and they had all treated you so well these firefighters, right up until you had figured it out.

Ignorance really was bliss.

–

The cabin was breathtaking and the floor was unexpectedly warm beneath your feet when Price finally set you down. It hadn’t been far from the watch tower at all, maybe 10 minutes, but the trees did a good job of making it seem invisible until you were close. It was clear that this was a labour of love with its cute hand burned wooden sign marking it with the numbers 141, the swing seat and rocking chairs out on the porch and the little disorganised but thriving vegetable garden by the side.

The inside was homey if a little rugged, not a lot of touches of femininity to be found but plenty of heart and charm. You spied bits of kit lying around in ways that spoke to the personalities of their owners. One jacket neatly hung on its peg, another haphazardly thrown onto the counter. It felt strangely like a sibling of your own little fairytale cottage you had made, the more wild version. It made you mourn the loss all over again until you heard a long suffering meow and the tears weren’t coming from grief anymore.

“Hi Dosia girl” you cried through an overjoyed smile, crouching so she could come butt her head against your hand.

You were a little embarrassed at your very ugly crying as you scooped her up and cuddled her. She smelled of smoke and ash and you put that thought to the back of your mind. Dosia did not like baths one little bit, so that was certainly going to be a battle and you were going to come out of it with war wounds. Ah, you would need to find a B&B that would be ok with a pet, or maybe you could crash with your aunt for a while. The trip to where she lived would be hours but not like you had many options.

Your reunion was cut short by the fact that you were far more invested in this cuddling than Dosia was. She allowed it for perhaps 15 seconds and then squirmed to be put down, batting at your cheek when you tried to resist.

“Ok, ok!” you laughed, letting her jump down.

It was a bit of a surprise to see her rub against Simon before padding off to curl up by the fireplace. Oh my goodness they had a fireplace. It wasn’t lit which was sensible since they had been out, but you could imagine it made the whole place incredibly cosy. Your thoughts strayed briefly seeing the chopped wood in a basket, imagining the sight of these large men with axes, sweating as they made their firewood.

Grief, relief and horniness were not good bedfellows and you brought your bottom lip forward to blow a puff of air up towards your head. Your mother used to have you do it when you were little to blow the bad thoughts away when you had nightmares and while it didn’t work quite as well with the frankly filthy images it was good enough.

“Come on little bird, shower is this way. I’ll get some clothes for you while you are in there” Price said, his hand on the small of your back to direct you.

He had such an old fashioned way about him that it almost made you feel like you were in another time. His touch against you so firm and gentlemanly that you wanted to swoon a little, but you only smiled and gave a meek thank you before allowing yourself to be led. Price was already imagining the ceremony. He’d have to marry you of course, wouldn’t be proper to fuck a child into you without marrying you first.

He had to give Kyle a stern look over your head as you went into the room. The boy was seconds away from arguing that he also needed to shower and wouldn’t it make sense to save water? He had been the first to taste your lips, it would be unfair if he were also the first to see you naked and trembling beneath the water. Maybe Price was feeling a little mean about it too, a little possessive. Kyle’s clothes would fit you best, but he was more inclined to give you his. You’d look right drowning in his t-shirt. He could imagine the way it would slip off your shoulder, give him access to pepper kisses there and get you all warm and honey sweet for him.

“I really appreciate it” you said, still sniffling a little but trying to convey how thankful you were of their kindness.

You thought as you closed the door and slowly stripped out of your soot covered clothes that maybe it might be nice to ask one of them out for a drink once you had sorted out the Insurance and maybe rented out a little flat until you could plan a rebuild. You had just been very cosy with Kyle, so you knew that he at least found you attractive if nothing else. But then each of them captivated you in a different way, even the masked man who hadn’t spoken one word to you this entire time was giving the temptation of a mystery to be solved.

The water pressure was amazing here and you found yourself relaxing as steam pillowed around you. It’d be nice to keep in touch with these firefighters even if you didn’t ever work up the courage to ask any out on a date. They had saved you after all and if you rebuilt where you had been you could probably visit them pretty easily if you were allowed to be in the watchtower outside of nearly burning to a crisp. You weren’t really sure how it worked, was it open to the public? You could find out after everything was sorted.

You laughed seeing the awful 3 in 1 shampoo, conditioner and soap. It was scented ginger and orange and it was strong as hell. You wondered if they all used it, you hadn’t really smelled it on any of them and given how just opening the bottle made the whole room heady with the scent you would think you would have been able to. Another of life's little mysteries. Maybe this bathroom was so clean and tidy because it was a spare?

You felt bone tired once you were clean, just standing under the warm water and letting your muscles relax.The door opening made you tense up all over again, Price walking in to place a little bundle of clothes on the counter and smiling over at you like you were not currently naked. He wasn’t acting like it was a big deal and you were trying to emulate that while turning yourself to try and cover up as much as you could.

“They’ll be a bit big, but don’t have much in the way of clothing for a lady. I’ll see if we can’t get your clothes clean,” he said, going to take the little bundle of your ashy clothing.

“Oh that’s ok, you really don’t have to-”

“Hush little bird, just you let us take care of everything.”

He left after that and you thought you might die on the spot. Your underwear had been in that pile and it was mortifying to think of them laundering it. It wasn’t like it needed saving, you’d get new things. You weren’t even sure you wanted any of the clothing that such a disaster had happened in. Getting out of the shower, dried and dressed was a hurried affair. Price may not have cared about nudity but you did and you didn’t fancy getting caught again.

The clothes were definitely way too big but you didn’t mind that just now, it felt comforting. He had left sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie. No underwear, but then of course there wouldn’t be. It would be weird to wear theirs. You had a quick look around for a hair brush but found none, instead just trying to comb your towel dried hair as best you could with your fingers. No easy feat considering the product you had just used on it.

Coming out of the little room was a nerve wracking affair. You felt your wits were very much back about you now, your brain reminding you that you were in the woods alone with 4 men, one of which you had been all over a few hours ago. Only the masked man was in the room as you came out. You saw him in the little kitchenette, giving a short gasp when he turned and set a steaming mug of definitely hot chocolate on the counter. You could really use a hot chocolate.

“Come on sweetheart, sit and drink. You need something warm after the day you’ve had.”

It was for you? Oh this mystery of a man was more appealing by the second and you immediately followed instructions, sitting down on one of the stools by the counter and taking a deep inhale of the steam in appreciation.

“Hot chocolate is my absolute favourite, thank you,” you said, happily sipping.

Ghost knew it was your favourite. He had learned so much about you when he had gone into your little cottage while you slept. He knew it would come in handy, knew deep down it was destiny that you’d be here one day. You were already his from the moment he had laid eyes on you from the watchtower, he was just biding his time until you knew that too. And his patience was wearing thin now that you were so close.

“I was wondering who Soap was, is it another firefighter?” you asked, honestly just wanting to make conversation so you could hear his voice again as you ran a finger over the name patch on the jacket over the counter.

“S’Johnny’s call sign. Kyle has Gaz on his jacket, John has Price.”

“Oh, what’s yours?”

You were fascinated by the way his eyes just held yours intensely. They were the only part of his face you could see, the only thing that could give away how he was feeling. While there was something of a smile there, some animal instinct wanted you to run. Some animal instinct saw a predator in his eyes as he answered you.

“Ghost.”

“On account of him being a big spooky bitch” Johnny’s voice floated from the stairs.

You turned to see him and Price coming down, the former looking dishevelled. Johnny had scratches all down his forearms, some looking deep and bleeding. His hair was a mess, clothes damp and sudsy. Price meanwhile looked no worse for wear, holding a purring Dosia wrapped in a fluffy towel. You couldn’t help but laugh, Johnny’s dramatic sigh when you did making you laugh harder.

“Did she kill Kyle?”

“Naw, bastard got out of bath time to go shower like a coward.”

“You’ll have to forgive MacTavish, he’s always been shit with women regardless of if they’re human or not.”

“Awa’ an bile yer heid.”

“English Johnny.”

“Let me translate. Go fuck yerself.”

“Offt, thought it was against the firefighter code to burn things,” you joked, causing Johnny and Price to grin at you.

Price sat himself on one of the armchairs with Dosia still purring away, docile in his arms. Johnny cheekily took your mug to take a sip for himself which you were frankly outraged about, following him to sit on the sofa. Simon spirited himself away to somewhere else in the cabin before coming back shortly with a hairbrush in hand.

You twisted around thinking he would give it to you, but Johnny only smooshed your cheeks and brought your head back around to face front so that Simon could start gently brushing your hair. It was such a sweet gesture that you luxuriated for the moment in the attention. It was probably ok to indulge a little after the day you had, and you closed your eyes and relaxed. You were alive and well and so was Dosia. You could rebuild a cottage.

At some point you dozed off, only waking when Kyle was gently coaxing you to eat some soup. He was sat on the little coffee table feeding you, looking devastatingly handsome all clean and in plaid pyjama bottoms and a hoodie. It felt intimate, way too intimate, but you were happily sleepy and soon happily fed so you let the little alarm bell in the back of your mind be overridden.

–

When you woke up it was morning and you were in a bed. You were in a bed and you were not alone. There was a large body curled around your back, one arm pillowing your head and the other lazily slung over your waist. You tensed and the man noticed, a rumbling coming from his chest that you swore you could feel vibrate against your back.

“S’ok baby, dinnae need to git up yet.”

Johnny, it was Johnny behind you. You squeaked like a damn mouse when you felt his lips press to the back of your neck. Christ he was like a furnace behind you, the heat of him bleeding into you. You knew you were lying to yourself if you said that was the only reason you were suddenly overheating. Maybe he thought you were someone else? You moved a bit, seeing if you couldn’t get out of his hold and wake him up.

He definitely did not think you were someone else, not when he groaned and pulled you back in to squeeze you in a tight hug, your name on his lips.

“Please let me hold ye for a wee bit longer bonnie, nearly lost ye yesterday.”

Your emotions were tangled. Part of you felt that your heart might beat out of your chest from how loving he sounded, that little undercurrent of genuine fear of losing you. The other part had your heart beating out of fear because you had met this man yesterday and he was acting like you were long term partners. The latter won out and you struggled against his hold, relieved when he let you go with a sigh.

You rolled out of bed and looked at him in alarm. Oh he was adorable like this, all sleepy and soft. He didn’t seem so dangerous like this.

“I…” you started, not really knowing where to go from there.

You decided that where to go from there was out of this room, scrambling for the door and spilling out into the hallway without another word. You could see the stairs. Someone must have carried you up last night. You went down them in a rush, not sure what your plan was now. You were flustered, annoyed at yourself for how tempting it had been to stay.

“Good morning luv! Sleep well?”

Christ, Gaz and Price were in the little kitchen area drinking tea. Both were shirtless, Gaz only in PJ bottoms and Price only in his underwear. Fuck these people were models, this could not be a real situation you had actually found yourself in.

“I- uh, yes? Thank you. I need to go.”

Both of them looked concerned, Price walking over to you and blocking your way to the door.

“Do you need me to talk to Soap? I’ve already told the boys they’re not to do anything you don’t want unless it’s for your own good little bird, do I need to remind him?”

He seemed so sincere, so warm and protective and safe. Only now you panicked at it, trying to figure out what on earth constituted something you didn’t want but was for your own good where these strangers were concerned.

“No, we didn’t… thank you for everything, but I need to go now. Need to get paperwork sorted and get some clothes and a place to stay and everything” you babbled, trying to aim for casual. Trying to aim for ‘I am not shit scared or anything, just going to go about my day don’t mind me’. You loved your cat more than anything, but right now you would leave without her and come back for her, that was how on edge this situation was making you.

Kyle was moving now as well, casually leaning against the front door. It wouldn’t matter how subtle he was, you saw it for what it was. They were stopping you from leaving.

“Handled the paperwork yesterday. You can stay here and we’ll get you some clothes, although I think you look beautiful in mine,” Price said, smiling indulgently down at you.

You were going to need to fight. Something was very, very wrong here and you were going to need to fight. There was a knock at the front door, making Kyle jump and whirl around. There was a moment of stillness, Kyle and Price both looking at you and you looking at them, everyone aware things were about to become very bad very quickly.

The scream was a second too late, a hand already clamped around your mouth as you were dragged bodily backwards and up the stairs. You fought like hell, but the body behind you was huge. Simon. It must have been. He had appeared from thin air and the callsign Ghost made sense now.

Johnny passed you being dragged in the hallway, winking and ruffling your hair before heading down the stairs.

It was only once you were dragged into the closet and the door closed that you heard the voices downstairs. It was the police you thought. They were talking about remains from a fire. Oh God, they were talking about your remains.

[oh-goddess-of-chaos]

⠀ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 – 𝐣. 𝐝. 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ✧‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (navi. & masterlist. & tag. )

「 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 」 yandere!jason dean 𝒙 female!reader

「 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 」 being the new girl at a school can be difficult, especially during the middle of the year and in a place with a rigid social structure such as westerburg high, but things can only seem to worsen when you start feeling as though you're being watched.

「 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 」 general themes from heathers the movie such as bullying, mentions of suicide, murder (c'mon, it's a heathers fic, what did u expect?), usage of guns, kissing, stalking, attempted rape (kurt n' ram), swearing , usage of drugs such as cigarettes, unconsensual kissing (doesn't get further than that in this), very slight insinuations to sex (spoken), the whole shebang.

「 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 」 4.5k

「 𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 .⁺ ˖ ⌒ (slight spoilers) i wanted to make the reader decently perceptive and sarcastic this one, but nearing the end i definitely made her rationality kinda disappear since that's what fear can do to a person. jd is more based off movie jd, and so is veronica.

Joining a new school midway through the school year was, to say the least, unideal.

You and your parents had just gotten the wonderful opportunity to move to the quaint town of Sherwood, Ohio, somewhere you all were essentially forced to go since your father had been promoted by his job and your family was strapped for cash. And, sure, your house was bigger and nicer than your last, but you'd had to leave all your friends you'd been with since your childhood, which was difficult.

To add to all of that, the people were unfriendly and rude, and the weather was tolerable at best. Though your old home wasn't perfect by any means, it was most certainly better than where you were living now.

And now, here you were, standing before your new high school, knowing perfectly nothing about it or what to expect yet still expecting it to be one of the worst schools you've gone to. The odd stares your fellow students were shooting you seemed to be indicative of that.

Oh, good grief.

You sighed as you entered, only to immediately crinkle your nose in disgust as you were hit with the pleasant aroma of sweaty jocks and what you could only guess were something akin to rotting bodies. Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself as you were almost hit by what you guessed were two football players dashing down the hallways.

This was going to be a long rest of the year.

You were quick to shove past the students to get to the front office, keen on getting your class schedule and getting to your class as early as you could. You'd only just gotten here and yet already you wanted to go home, though you supposed that that was how high school normally operated. It was never something anyone particularly enjoyed. Most people just managed to tolerate it enough to attend the next day.

"Hello, I'm looking to get my schedule?" You said once you'd reached your destination, crossing your arms as you stared at the woman at the front desk. Focused upon her own work, she offered you no response. You pursed your lips.

"Excuse me?" You spoke, louder this time, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

Apparently you weren't the only one unhappy to be at Westerburg high today, as the woman, seemingly irked, slowly craned her head to face you. "Yes?"

She seemed an unpleasant sort of woman, a frown etched permanently upon her wrinkled face. You wondered what the other teachers must look like, and if they resembled her by any means.

"This is my first day here. I need my class schedule."

"Name?"

"Y/n L/n."

The woman nodded and typed something into her computer. She then pointed to the printer. "Wait over there. Your class schedule is printing right now. Once it's finished, just go to your first class. The class numbers are listed on the right side."

"Well, is anyone going the help me find my way around?"

Your question was only met with silence. "Fine, I'll find it on my own. After all, why would I ever need the help of a teacher, anyway? It's not like I'm new to this school or anything." You grumbled before grabbing your schedule and exiting.

Luckily, navigating the school was a relatively simple task. The numbers on every door and the maps plastered on the walls definitely helped, and you were able to find your history class before the bell rang.

"Here's your textbook, Ms. L/n." The teacher said to you the moment you told her your name. Silently, you nodded, deciding to take a seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom as you waited for class to begin.

Something seemed off, though, as the lecture began and you jotted down nearly everything you heard. You could sense eyes boring into the back of your skull, like daggers piercing through your mind, and it inhibited your focus. You could hardly pay any attention to the teacher as she went on and on about some war you didn't even know the name of. And so, discreetly enough, you 'grabbed' something from you bag, staring over your shoulder briefly in an attempt to see if anyone really was watching you.

And, as it seemed, someone was. You managed to spot them - or him, to be more specific. Uncannily dark eyes stared back at you, blank and hollow. It made your stomach sink. Quickly, then, you retrieved an object from your school bag and continued with your notes to the best of your abilities. Unfortunately, though, you couldn't get that kid's sharp gaze out of your mind. Something about it - something about him - was off, though you couldn't quite place what it was. And, sure, from what you could see he dressed somewhat oddly - a dark trench coat adorning his shoulders, covering his already black pants and shirt - but it was more than just the way he was dressed. You knew it.

You gave up on the matter minutes after you were done with US History. As much as you were curious at the time, you could care less if some creep was watching you. It wasn't like you didn't have your fair share of those back at your old school - you just supposed that they didn't seem so outward about it. After all, you'd stared at that kid - caught him right in the act, but he didn't look away, didn't flinch, just kept staring. Looking back on it, you were convinced that you'd caught the glimpse of some sort of smile. But, as you'd mentioned, what was done was done. You'd only have to deal with him for 45 minutes every day for the rest for the year, at worst.

Sighing, you dropped your bag beside you as you sat down on one of the sticky cafeteria benches, secluded from everyone else. Although you knew you could've tried to make friends during your classes, you were aware of the truth about social politics in high school: halfway through the year, friendships were already sealed airtight and people were much less open to saying 'hi' to a new face, so you didn't even bother. And, sure, the seating was horrible, but you weren't about to make a fool of yourself, especially on your first day.

The food at Westerburg High was - albeit surprisingly - quite alright, and you found yourself somewhat enjoying it. Disregarding the horrible smell and the violently loud chatter, you supposed the cafeteria and lunch as a whole was okay.

That was, at least, until you caught sight of that kid who'd been staring at you in history. You hadn't even noticed he was there at first, but there he was, halfway across the cafeteria, staring blatantly right at you. This time, though, he was just smiling - smirking, even, and it unnerved you.

What is wrong with this guy?

The rest of the week went by like this. On your way to class, you'd always see him in the halls, eyes locking with yours as you passed him. Or getting your books from your locker - he'd always be there, eyes glued to your form. He wasn't even doing anything, was simply fixated on you. It made you shiver, the looks he gave you at first.

Now, however, it was almost expected. You'd anticipate dark eyes boring into your skull and the fumes of cigars to follow you in class, or truly just anywhere around school, just as you would expect your shadow to follow you in the sunlight. And, as annoying as it was the every first day, now it was eerie. You didn't have to look over your shoulder to know you were being watched, but when you did, you'd surely freeze out of both paranoia and fear. While, yes, you'd expected this year of high school to be your worst yet, never had you expected for it to be to such an extent.

Your fear later festered when he pulled a blank on two jocks in the cafeteria. Although you knew blanks couldn't truly hurt them, you shuddered to think what he'd do if he really wanted to cause some damage.

Things got worse still when the kid started dating the infamous Veronica Sawyer, not quite a Heather but not quite anything else either. Gossip around the school grew mad about the unconventional couple, and you soon learned the name of the kid who never did seem to leave you alone: Jason Dean, or 'J. D.' as everyone knew him.

Now, whenever you'd see J. D., he'd always be accompanied by his girlfriend, Veronica. He never did stop staring, though, resulting in numerous glares coming from Veronica's way.

So much for being tolerated by the popular crowd.

School had then became a living hell for you, because if one Heather didn't like you, none of them did, making life going unnoticed near impossible. Now, no matter where you were, someone was either glaring or gazing at you, their intentions vague and unclear.

Things then got particularly bad when Heather Chandler became a sort of enemy of yours. You weren't sure what you did to irk specifically her, but, whatever it was that you did, she most certainly hated you, more so than Veronica, even. Not a day went by without a rude confrontation by her, and you could name several instances when she'd embarrassed you in front of the school.

But then, one day, she was gone.

Suicide. At least, that's what they said it was, but you knew too many people hated that bitch for it to be so. All it would take was a teenager driven insane enough by her to be driven to such a point, and considering the state of Westerburg high, you didn't doubt for a moment that the queen bee of the school essentially prompted her own death.

So, yeah. You knew her suicide was faked. Not that you were going to report it to the cops - you weren't planning on stirring up more drama - but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by such a thing. And, besides, though you'd never admit it aloud, you were glad she was dead, in an odd way. Now you had at least one less person to make your life at this sorry school miserable.

So, life was okay for a while. People got too busy about mourning Heather's death to notice a nobody like you. Other than that creep J. D. and his jealous girlfriend stalking the halls, life was tolerable.

But when you're at the top, the only way you can go is down. And that's where you went. Down. All the way to rock bottom.

You didn't know how to put it in lighter terms, so here it was: You were almost raped. By Kurt and Ram, to be more exact.

Apparently, J. D. wasn't the only one who had an eye on you, and with all your attention focused on him (since you were so damn paranoid) you'd failed to notice the two jocks that also seemed to have been interested by you.

It was late at night. You were walking home from some house you'd babysat at as a favor, and two guys started following you. You didn't think much of it at first - just tried to forget about it and cool your nerves, but then they started to get faster, and faster, and you did too, until suddenly you were running, and then, almost abruptly, the two jocks had grabbed your arms and startled forcing you elsewhere. You screamed and fought, but no one was around to hear you.

You could only imagine the other 'nobodies' they must have done this to.

You remembered vividly your horror as the two piled themselves on top of you, eager to rip your clothes off. But, just as they were about to do so, a gun shot rang out, and then another. Frozen in terror, you didn't even move as you felt the boys' bodies go limp over you. You were only able to move when you felt a hand grab onto your own and force you up and get you back on your feet.

"Thank you," you barely managed to sputter out once the initial shock wore off.

"Go," is all the figure replied. A man, you presumed. You couldn't see his face, though, covered by the dark lighting. And so, dazed and confused, you obliged, not thinking twice about the words spoken to you.

The next day, though, was when things truly got out of hand.

Kurt and Ram, supposedly, had died in some gay love pact, wherein they killed each other. Hearing the news over the TV your parents played, you felt sick to your stomach. But, there they lied on the screen, a bag of supposed 'homosexual artifacts' and a suicide note to tie it all together.

And the whole town ate the story up.

You didn't go to school for about the next week or so. You told your parents that you were sick, and even though they knew you weren't, they still called in sick for you, able to detect that you weren't exactly feeling well mentally.

The week of repose was good, too. You were able to gather yourself up, not to the point where you didn't fear what could have happen had your savior not came to the rescue, but to the point where you could suppose that you were grateful that you wouldn't have to answer any questions from the police.

But now, at least for now, you knew you'd be safe.

* * *

You let out a soft sigh as you landed on your bed, curling into your warm sheets as a way of seeking comfort. At least you were safe and secure at home, you supposed, your parents only a relatively quiet yell away and your windows locked for good measure. If school was your hell, then you would consider home your heaven, away from the Heathers, away from J. D., away from everyone.

Turning off your light, you sank into your pillow in a desperate sort of way, clinging to it as if it were your lifeline. You'd hardly been getting sufficient sleep within the past weeks, so it didn't take long for you to fall into oblivion, the abyss of sleep consuming you whole in minutes.

So deeply unaware of your surrounding now, you didn't even hear quiet footsteps entering your bedroom.

J. D. was, to say the least, unsure what made him drawn to you in the first place. Maybe it was your calm and uncaring demeanor, or maybe it was the way you seemed to pick up on things through simple observation so easily, similarly to him. Whatever it was, he most certainly found you interesting. And, somehow, he could simply tell that there was something different about you - something like him that he saw in you, and it intrigued him to no end.

No matter how paranoid you were, you were never completely aware of J. D.'s reach in your life. When he'd watch you when you were at home, he'd remain particularly clever, knowing that if he was caught there was a high chance that he'd get into some really deep shit. Staring at a girl in school every day was one thing, but following her home? That was much more serious, and required a much less conspicuous plan.

But, alas, his plan paid off, and J. D. smiled knowingly as he stared at your vulnerable figure, taken over by a much needed sleep. You simply looked so perfectly innocent like that, something he couldn't wait to ruin once he had the chance.

J. D. laughed euphorically as he continued to just stare at you, unsure if he still had his wits about him but uncaring at the very same time. Perhaps all the cigars he had been smoking really were getting to him. But he knew what he needed to do before he brought you with him. So, quietly, resisting the urge to kiss your pristine lips, J. D. raced out of your bedroom, your door that was previously shut left open behind him.

Unfortunately for him, however, he'd forgotten that you were often a light sleeper that woke up at different intervals in the night, so when a particularly cool gust of wind came in through your open window, you were startled awake.

"What the fuck?" You muttered under your breath as you drowsily peeled your eyes open, squinting them as you stood up to close the window, before pausing and wondering how on earth your window had opened. After all, your parents never came into your room late at night as far as you were concerned, and you had locked your window when you'd fallen asleep, so how could it have opened?

It was at that very moment, too, that the faint smell of smoke wafted through the room, and you froze.

Sure, you knew you were paranoid, and that maybe fear had gotten the better of you, but you also knew that a potentially dangerous kid had been staring at you ever since you got to school and that it would be idiotic for you to assume that he had no malicious intentions.

Your stomach then tightened up once you noticed your open bedroom door. So, yes. It was possible that maybe your assumptions were idiotic, but you'd be a fool to not go with your gut when the most it'd cost you was some short-lived embarrassment, especially considering what could have happened with Kurt and Ram. So, quietly, you exited your bedroom, looking down the hallways of the upstairs floor as to reassure that the coast was clear.

It was.

More silently than you've ever done so before, then, you tip-toed to your parents bedroom, hoping to either alert them of an intruder or ask them what the were doing. But, just as you were about to open their door, footsteps were heard on the other side - not your mother's quiet, considerate ones, nor your father's loud, heavy ones, but a different kind.

Fuck.

As fast as you could, you dashed into the nearest room, leaving the door only just barely open as to not allow it to make any sound. From your parent's room exited a dark silhouette, wearing what you guessed was a trench coat and with only the burning edge of a cigarette as a light source plucked between two fingers.

You were right. You were fucking right. No other than Jason Dean was in your house, and right now, he was heading right for your bedroom, most likely intending to kill.

You needed to think fast.

My parents - right, my parents. They keep a gun in their bedroom.

You were shaking. Yes, your parents showed you were they kept the gun in the case of an emergency, but you'd never been taught how to use it.

As quietly as you could, you dashed over to your parents bedroom, closing the door behind you. And, even though you knew you didn't have the time, you took a moment to catch your breath. God, you couldn't breathe. And neither could your parents, as it seemed, when you looked over at their limp corpses sprawled in the bed. Slowly, you retracted the covers from their bodies, only to find a wet pool of blood that lay beneath them and their slit throats.

They were dead. J. D. had fucking killed your parents. You felt your knees buckle underneath you as you caressed your mother's lifeless face, her eyes never to once again open.

"Mom..." You whimpered, not caring if her blood stained your fingers. But then, you paused, realizing that, if you didn't speed up, you could be next.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! I really need to find a weapon or a way out of here. I only have so much time before he finds me.

You suppressed a scream as you then scoured their bedroom in search of the gun safe, not keen on wasting any more time, but to your dismay, you couldn't find it.

They must have moved it from last year - fuck! - what else could they have?

Your eyes then landed on your father's esteemed baseball bat. You'd remember him talking about it, the pride radiating from him as he explained how it was the first bat he used to hit a home run with in high school.

Well, sorry dad.

Picking up what was now a weapon and placing it in such a way that would allow you to swing at a moment's notice, you slowly sauntered out of your parent's bedroom and into the hallway.

Your blood ran colder and colder as you approached your bedroom door, until, finally, you did, and raised the baseball bat even higher as to deliver the hardest blow on the boy that stood before you.

"You know, it would have probably been better if you'd stayed hiding," you then heard J. D. speak, turning around and raising an eyebrow at the bat in you hands. "You know, that isn't going to do much against a gun."

Time seemed to stop, and all you could stare at was the gun that sat loosely in J. D.'s hand. He was going to fucking kill you.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to use it on you," he then reassured coyly, as if reading your mind. "It's just a necessary... precaution. Now, why don't place the bat down so we can talk."

"I could scream."

J. D. seemed to smile at this and clicked his tongue, as if scolding you. "Now, would you really like to have someone else's blood on your hands like that? Just because I'm not going to shoot you doesn't mean I won't shoot anyone else. It'd be a shame if anyone had to die because of you."

Silence.

"Good, now... place the bat down."

Nodding, you complied, slowly placing your only means of defence on the ground.

"Okay, okay," you mumbled, trying to calm your racing heart down. Though you doubted it, you supposed that there was a chance that, if you could calm down enough, you could convince J. D. to leave you alive.

J. D. grinned. "Now, darling, why don't you come right here."

If you could've moved, you most certainly would've. After all, you'd seen that gun in J. D.'s hand. You knew what it could do. But you were frozen by fear, and no amount of rationality was going to move you.

"Now, this would all be, uh, a lot easier if you'd just come with me, because I'd hate to have to man-handle - " J. D.'s words cut short as he watched you, nearly stunned, as you bolted past him and towards the window. But he was quick to recoup his bearings, cocking the gun (for good measure) and grab onto your leg, successfully dragging you towards the ground. You grunted in pain upon your head slamming against the hardwood floor, the beginnings of a bruise already starting to appear.

Now only partially unconscious, it took you a long while to notice the tongue now prying apart your mouth and the chapped lips pressed against your own. You'd only really noticed when you realized that you couldn't breathe, and you let out a strangled groan as you tried to detach yourself from the figure above you, but to no avail. J. D. merely slid his tongue deeper down your throat, inhibiting you from screaming or making any other noise as he kissed you roughly.

You thrashed and flailed under his touch, but nothing was enough to free yourself from him. He was faster, stronger, and had the firearm in this situation. You stood no chance. So, with a heavy heart, you moved pliantly underneath J. D.'s touch, hoping he'd at least go a little easier on you at the very least.

And then, with bated breath, you observed as he stopped, and, hovering above you, took something out of his pocket. At first, fearing it was a gun, you began to once again fight against him, but then paused upon not recognizing the silhouette of the object in his hand.

"You know, as much as I'd like to continue this, I did come here for a reason." J. D. stared at you, no ounce of sympathy as he spoke his next words. "You know, it'd have been a hell of a lot easier if you'd just fucking stayed asleep."

Without so much as a moment to respond, a wet rag was forced upon your face. Confused at first, you lied still, before realizing what it must have been drenched it. You were now even more urgent in your fighting of J. D. (if that was even possible), punching and kicking him wherever you could. But he didn't budge, simply kept a firm grip on the rag.

"Shhh, it's fine, I won't hurt ya," he reassured, "Not unless I need to, of course."

But you didn't hear him, your consciousness already slipping as you'd only been half conscious before. You were trying to kick free, but already you were so exhausted, your adrenaline already beginning to ware off. Worse still, J. D.'s words of reassurance that you'd be fine and that everything will be alright were starting to mess with you.

You could hear him talking, but the words were muffled and blurred, and your body seemed to take everything in as if it were truth, because it was already relaxing under his cool touch. And it seemed that, the more fearful your mind grew, the more numb your body became, until, finally, you gave up your thrashing and your fighting, and sunk into J. D. harsh embrace willingly.

Upon your figure going limp, a devilish grin spread across J. D.'s face. Though he knew this was not how things were meant to occur, he was simply so happy - for he finally had you in his arms, where you belonged. And then, unable to help himself, he pressed a hungry kiss on your mouth, pleased to hear a muffled moan escape it as your tongue moved submissively under his own.

This was it! Finally - finally, after waiting for so long, you belonged to him. No more were the days when he'd have to watch you through your bedroom window, or the days where all he'd see of you were your paranoid eyes in the hallways, because, finally, here you were, in his arms, where you belonged!

Here you were at last, finally.

Finally, you were his and only his.

© do not translate, steal, or repost any of my works elsewhere without consulting me and gaining my consent.

[higanbana-writer]

Wavering Gaze

Pairing: Kyōjurō x Gn!Upper Moon!Reader Prompt: [Soulmate AU where one of your eyes is the same color as your soulmate’s.] Kyōjurō has finally met his soulmate. But what was he supposed to do when you're an Upper Moon and he, a Hashira? C/N: Just Shinjurō being an ass during his brief screentime. A/N: Hoo boy. I was originally going to just make this a two part series, but I got a bit carried away and the 'second' part ended up being waaaay too long. So, three parts it is! Part: 1, 2, 3 (coming soon)

“Follow your heart, Kyōjurō.”

Those had been his mother’s last words to him and Kyōjurō knew that she’d been referring to his soulmate. How could he not? Though he had been but a mere child then, he could still notice all the grief his mismatched eyes caused his parents – namely his father. He saw how often Shinjurō would cast subtle glances at the eyepatch that hid his soulmate’s eye from the world. A conflicted expression would always rest upon his face whenever he did so, although Kyōjurō could never tell what exactly lay behind it. And he noticed it, how often his father would remind him more than he did with Senjurō, that demons were the enemy who preyed on the innocent and deserved no mercy. But he didn’t mind the extra reminders, always wholeheartedly agreeing with him.  

So, why had his mother left him with those final words? He’d always clearly expressed that he had every intention of following in his father’s footsteps to become the next Flame Hashira, and in doing so, rejected the very notion of his soulmate. Every time he picked up his practice sword to train, with the sole goal of being able to protect the weak, he was following his heart. Not once had he wavered over what he should be doing. So…why? He had puzzled over her words for the longest times.

He never harbored any grievances towards the fact that his soulmate was an Upper Moon. Sure, hiding his eye all the time was a bit tiring and troublesome, but it wasn’t your fault. After all, it hadn’t been as if you’d specifically picked him to be your soulmate. And it weren’t as if you had caused him or his family any harm. He had absolutely no reason to hold any personal grudges against you.

As a matter of fact, even though he’d see your eye reflected back at him on the occasions that he’d take off his eyepatch and gaze into the mirror, he always felt a strange sort of detachment. To him, you were simply a demon whom had taken many lives and needed to be killed for the future safety of many others. Perhaps your eternal life would be ended by a demon slayer before the two of you would ever meet, or perhaps Kyōjurō himself would be the one to end you. Soulmate or not, it was his duty to protect all the precious human lives out there from the likes of your kind.

At least, that’s what he’d told himself throughout his entire life. And yet, as you stood there before him, hesitant but captivating smile on your lips, all of that shattered into tiny pieces.

Kyōjurō had wondered from time to time about what you would look like, but never did he expect you to be so enchanting. Everything about you was perfect. Were you truly a demon? It seemed more fitting to call you a celestial being.

He stared at you with a wide eye, the right words to say completely eluding him. Then, all of a sudden, an intense heat flashed through his left eye. Though it was an extremely strange sensation, it was far from unpleasant. Still, he brought his hand up to his eyepatch out of reflex and you, almost simultaneously, did the same while lowering your head.

When you looked back up at him a few seconds later, hand dropping away from your face, he inhaled sharply at what he saw. Your eyes, which had appeared as those of a human mere moments ago, had now reverted back to their original demonic look, unnaturally vibrant with kanji etched across them. It felt so odd, seeing the eye that had been his since birth returned back to its rightful owner. However, the thing that shocked him most was the rank displayed on your right eye.

Three?!

Out of all the Upper Moons, his soulmate had to be rank three. That meant that as of the current moment, he had the fourth strongest demon in the entire country standing right in front of him.

“Is…Is something wrong…?” You hesitantly asked, not seeming to realize what had happened, but certainly noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Your eyes are, uh…” Still reeling from the shock, Kyōjurō wasn’t quite sure what to say. He tapped a finger against his eyepatch, “I can see your rank.”

Panic flitted over your face at his words and you immediately turned your face away. The next time you look at him, your eyes were back to their human appearance. The two of you stared at each other in silence, each trying to guess the other’s thoughts and waiting for them to speak first. Well, this was turning out to be one very awkward first meeting between soulmates.

“I, err… I apologize that you had to see that?” You ended up being the one to speak first, though you sounded completely uncertain about your own words.

Were you really Upper Moon Three? Were you really a demon that had killed numerous people? Your entire demeanor seemed so… So human-like. Looking at you, all he saw was someone elated at finally meeting their soulmate, someone who wanted to create a good impression and yet was nervous about making a blunder, someone who feared that their soulmate would reject them. All of those were emotions Kyōjurō would attribute to a human, not a demon. He couldn’t even sense a hint of malice from you.

But the memory of the kanji engraved across your eyes flashed through his mind, proving to be a harsh reminder that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around you. Though he intended to question you about your motives behind acting so docile, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so when he saw your hopeful expression. Quietly clearing his throat, Kyōjurō gave you the brightest smile he could muster. “Come on now, you shouldn’t be apologizing during our first meeting! Besides, you have absolutely no reason to do so in the first place, especially since it was effect of our soulmate bond.”

Your face lit up at his positive response and in that moment, his heart melted. He watched as your gaze then drifted past him, trained on a large, noisy group of people passing by. Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance and though he found that simple action to be strangely alluring, he couldn’t help but feel alarmed for their safety. You were a demon after all. Who knew what you were capable of? His hand tensed, ready to draw his katana if needed.

Much to his relief, however, you eventually looked back at him and suggested, “Shall we go to some place quieter, er…?” Trailing off, you tilted your head with a questioning gaze.

It was then that he realized he had yet to give you his name, and you yours. “Ah, I am Kyōjurō Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.” He gave a slight bow as he introduced himself, not missing the way your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Since he knew what rank you were as an Upper Moon, he thought it fair to let you be aware of his position in the Demon Slayer Corps. And if this piece of information changed the way you viewed him – such as being a threat that needed to be eradicated immediately, soulmate bond be damned – then it would be better to get it out in the open now, rather than later.

After a moment, you simply mirrored his bow and said, “It’s such a delight to finally meet you, Kyōjurō. You can call me [Name]. As you might have noticed earlier, I'm Upper Moon Three.”

No surname, he noted. Then again, none of the demons he had encountered before seemed to have one either.

“Well then, [Name]. Shall we?” Kyōjurō extended his hand towards you and upon seeing your puzzled expression, added, “Since it’s very crowded around here, we should try to avoid losing each other.” If neither of you intended to kill each other at that moment, then it would only be proper to behave as a gentleman towards his soulmate.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with that, then…”

As he began to withdraw his hand, you hurriedly grabbed it. “No no! It’s a good idea.” Your skin felt cool against his own and though you seemed slightly flustered by his sudden suggestion, you also appeared quite thrilled.

Thus, the two of you set off through the heart of the city, remaining hand-in-hand while scouring for a decent place to rest and talk at. Eventually coming upon a teashop with few costumers – which you had pointed out – it was settled between you both to go there.

So there he was, sitting across the table from you with a cup of tea in his hands. You had gotten one for yourself too – much to Kyōjurō’s surprise, as he thought demons were unable to consume human food or drinks. However, whenever you brought your cup up to your mouth, you simply wetted your lips instead of actually drinking the tea. Was this your way of trying to be considerate and make him feel more at ease? Well, he was probably getting ahead of himself, but it certainly made for an unexpected and rather heartwarming thought.

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply taking in each other’s appearance. And then, with your gaze lingering on his uniform, you asked, “Were you in the middle of working?”

Kyōjurō shook his head, taking a sip of tea before replying, “I had actually just finished a mission before we met.”

“Ah, I see…” You pursed your lips, not sure of how else to respond. It must have felt odd for you, hearing a demon slayer – and a Hashira, no less – talk about killing your brethren through a calm conversation over tea. Shifting uncomfortably, you then brought up your next question. “Do you intend to fight me?”

He raised an eyebrow, finding your choice of words interesting. Do you intend to fight me, instead of, do you intend to kill me. Were you implying that you believed yourself to be much stronger than him, therefore there was absolutely no chance that he would be able to kill you? Well, he may have been a mere human, but he was by no means weak.

Although his answer should have been an instant ‘Of course!’, he instead shook his head once more, gripping his cup tightly as he answered, “…Not for now, no.”

Guilt had begun to grip his heart before he’d even finished his sentence. Just saying those four words were like a betrayal to everyone he knew: his mother, father, brother, master, fellow Hashiras, the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, as well as all of its fallen members. And more importantly, by not killing you the very instant he'd met you, he had turned his back on his position as a Hashira and condemned innocent people to die by your hands in the future. Kyōjurō knew all of this and yet, somehow, for some reason unknown to himself, he couldn’t quite bring himself to kill you.

Clenching his jaw, he didn’t realize just how much strength he’d been putting into holding his cup until it shattered, hot tea spilling over his hands. You gasped, immediately reaching over the table and using your sleeves to wipe the liquid off his skin.

“They’re red.” With a concerned tone and a knitted brow, you carefully took his hands into your own and examined them. “It looks like you didn’t cut yourself, so that’s good.”

When a server hurried over to see what the noise had been about, you requested for some cool water and a clean cloth so that he could soothe his hands. Kyōjurō had tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t a big deal and he felt fine, but you stubbornly insisted.

“Humans are such fragile creatures. You have to take care of yourself or you won’t know what will happen.” You huffed, almost sounding like a nagging spouse. As Kyōjurō let out a small chuckle, you wetted the cloth the server had brought and began gently dabbing it over his reddened skin.

“Please have some faith in me, [Name]. I’m sturdier than you think.”

With a light laugh, you playfully teased, “Right, tell me that after the next time we’re able to have tea without you burning yourself.”

Kyōjurō exchanged an amused smile with you, the mood now more relaxed and lighthearted than before. The two of you continued to chat and though touching on various topics, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the both of you to refrain from bringing up any subjects on the conflict between humans and demons. Time passed quickly and before either of you knew it, dawn was rapidly approaching.

Glancing out the shop’s window, the grin you wore from his joke mere seconds ago began to fade.  “…I should probably get going now.”

Kyōjurō looked out as well and when he saw the sky’s dark beginning to gradually lighten, doubts which he’d managed to distract himself from through his conversations with you started to flood back in. If he wanted to, he could easily try to keep you here until the sun’s first rays were able to reach you. That’s what he should be doing as the Flame Hashira. And yet, something in him held him back. Was it guilt? Sudden fear of losing the soulmate he’d just met? Perplexment at how different you were from how he’d imagined you? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact emotions that prevented him from drawing his blade and all he could do was sit there, watching as you procured a small bag from within your sleeve.

The clinking of coins sounded from within the bag as you plopped it onto the table. His eyes widened when he realized what your intentions and he immediately began reaching for his own money.

“No, please let me-“

You raised your hand to stop him. “I insist. Consider this as my thanks towards you for giving me your time tonight.” The corner of your lips tugged back up into a playful smile at his reluctant expression and you added, “But if it makes you feel better, then you can repay me by meeting up with me again some time. I know your schedule must be busy with the kind of work you do, so when you have the time, come find me at that abandoned shrine near the western outskirts of the city.”

Not waiting for his response, you rose from your seat and bowed in farewell. “Until we meet again, please stay safe, Kyōjurō.”

Though slightly taken aback by your sudden rushed demeanor and having not been able to properly agree to your suggested rendezvous, he quickly got to his feet and bowed in return. “I pray that our next meeting will be as harmonious as this one.”

“…Indeed.” Was all you simply responded with before you hurried out of the shop, now in a race against the rapidly approaching sunrise.

Kyōjurō sat back down as he watched you go and remained there long after you’d left, all the while mulling over the soulmate bond he shared with you and the consequences that would inevitably result from it.

———

“Useless!”

A sake cup smashed against the wall next to Kyōjurō’s head, splattering its contents onto him. He didn’t even so much as flinch, however, simply letting out a soft sigh as he gazed on at his raging father in a steadfast manner.

Shinjurō gritted his teeth, his foul mood further spurred by the irritation he felt towards his eldest son’s calmness. He jabbed a finger towards Kyōjurō’s left eye, which no longer remained hidden away behind an eyepatch. “You come home, flaunting the fact that you’ve met your soulmate, and you’re telling me that you didn’t even kill them? You had an Upper Moon in front of you and you let them go.” Banging his fist on the table in front of him, he raised his voice into a shout. “You let an Upper Moon go! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Then, he suddenly quieted down as quickly as he had began yelling. Letting out a resentful scoff, he sneered at his son. “You’re always sprouting crap about doing your duties as a Hashira and protecting the innocent, but look at you now, going soft over a demon. Well? What rank are they? I bet they’ve killed more people than all of the demons you’ve killed combined.”

Kyōjurō pressed his lips together, knowing that his father was right. Even now, as he sat in front of his father to be berated, he still felt conflicted over his choice of letting you go.

Taking no notice of his silence, Shinjurō took a large swig from his sake bottle before continuing on his rant. “You know, when you were born, I worried that other slayers might call you a traitor. Looks like I worried for nothing, since you really are one now. But who cares, right? Go ahead, continue being a Hashira! Whether you bed a demon or not won’t matter, since every other person in the Corps are fakes, just like you. All their breathing techniques are just cheap imitations.” He grumbled the last part, downing more sake at his rising anger. “And while you’re out there, parading around with your hypocrisy, why don’t you go dragging the Rengoku name through dirt? Help yourself in trampling on the family’s honor too! Go against everything that Ruka-“  

Shinjurō abruptly stopped at the thought of his late wife, a shadow of grief crossing over his face.

“Father-“ Kyōjurō began, only to be interrupted.

“Get out!” The older male snapped as he turned his back to him, emptying his sake bottle in an attempt to numb the old wound left on his heart by his wife’s passing.

Knowing that there was no use trying to carry on their conversation, Kyōjurō rose to his feet.

“Please take care of yourself and try not to overdrink.”

Leaving his father with those words, he exited the room. As he slide the door closed behind himself, a loud shattering noise could be heard coming from within. No doubt it was Shinjurō smashing the sake bottle out of anger towards Kyōjurō’s parting words.

Kyōjurō heaved a deep sigh as he briefly leaned against the wall near the door, tiredly closing his eyes. He’d expected this reaction when he decided to tell his father about his soulmate, but there had been the smallest spark of hope in him that Shinjurō would be more accepting of the news. He couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would have reacted, had she still been with them. Would she be as disapproving as her husband? Or would she have been more accepting and understanding?

“Brother?”

Senjurō’s timid voice suddenly broke his chain of thoughts. Opening his eyes, Kyōjurō pushed himself off against the wall as he smiled brightly at his younger brother. “Senjurō! What brings you here? If you’re looking for Father, I believe he’s just left to buy some more sake. I might have put him in a foul mood, though.”

He let out an awkward laugh and Senjurō shook his head. “I, um… I heard what Father said to you…”

Kyōjurō’s smile faltered for a moment. Well, their father had been loud. It’d be hard not to hear him, even from all the way down the hall. “Ah, pay him no mind. You know how he can get when he drinks.”

“I…I know. But…” The youngest Rengoku fidgeted, wanting to say something but seeming uncertain about it. However, at his brother’s encouraging gaze, he worked up his courage and came out with it. “I-I trust you, Brother! No matter what Father says, if you think what you’re doing is right, then you should keep going with it! Even if Father disapproves, I’m always here to support you!”

Caught off guard by the unexpected consolation, Kyōjurō blinked. His gaze then softened and he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Thank you, Senjurō. It makes me happy to know that I can rely on you.”

Senjurō’s cheeks reddened and a small, but happy smile appeared on his face. They stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the brief bonding time between brothers. That was, until Senjurō abruptly leaned in and sniffed him. His nose crinkled slightly as he drew back, “You smell very strongly of sake, Brother.”

“Do I?” Brows furrowed, Kyōjurō sniffed the parts of his hair and clothes where sake had gotten splashed onto earlier. “It doesn’t seem very obvious to me.”

With a small laugh, Senjurō shook his head and took hold of his hand, beginning to drag him off to the washroom. “Come on, I’ll help you wash your hair. And while I do that, you can tell me all about your soulmate!”

Kyōjurō obediently followed his younger brother, his lips stretched out into a grin. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling at ease now knowing that no matter what choice he made towards his future with you, Senjurō would always be there for him.  

———

The following week, he met up with you at the abandoned shrine as planned and you had greeted him so happily, as if you hadn’t actually expected him to show up. Though Kyōjurō had arrived feeling uncharacteristically tense, not quite knowing what to anticipate from the rendezvous, the endearing grin you gave him put him a little more at ease.

That night ended up being rather similar to your previous meeting, with the two of you just chatting and getting to know each other further while enjoying a beautiful view of the stars twinkling above. It would have made for a rather romantic date, had Kyōjurō not remained on guard the entire time. He kept his wariness well hidden behind an easy-going smile, ready to defend himself the instant you decided to launch a surprise attack on him. It was true that at that moment, you lacked any animosity towards him. However, demons were fickle creatures who would kill at the simplest flick of a switch and he didn’t know when or if your attitude towards him would change.

But lo and behold, not once did there come a time where Kyōjurō needed to draw his blade and the two of you ended up parting with the promise of another meeting. And thus began the frequent trysts between you and he. With each night he got to spend with you, his guard began to gradually lower and his relaxed façade soon became genuine.

At some point, he stopped wearing his eyepatch whenever he met up with you. While he still wore it around others, like his fellow Hashiras to prevent them from asking questions, he figured there wouldn’t be any harm in going without it around you. It was much more comfortable, plus he could see better, and you seemed to enjoy seeing him without his eyepatch. There were times when he’d find you just randomly gazing into them and when he asked you about it, you told him how you loved his eyes and how comforting they seemed – like warm, gentle flames in which one could easily lose themselves in. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been flattered by your words.

Being only a city away, the shrine was located at a convenient spot to get together. It was far away enough from the Rengoku estate that someone would have a difficult time following him and finding out about you, and it was close enough to get to – well, it'd be hard for an average person, but Kyōjurō was far from average. Not to mention, it had long been abandoned so people almost never came by. That being said, the two of you began going on dates in the city and the neighboring areas. Night festivals quickly became a favorite date spot for you guys and you'd often go whenever there was one. At some point, it became a mini competition between you to see whom could win the most prizes.

As an avid sumo fan, Kyōjurō would often invite you to watch matches with him. He took no offense when you declined, as everybody had their own preferences. But he’d always be delighted when you went to watch with him. After all, who doesn’t love sharing the things they enjoy with those close to them?

When he told you that he enjoyed eating sweet potatoes and salt grilled bream, he underestimated the effects it would end up having. Not too long after he'd shared that small bit of information with you, you had presented him with a bento you cooked yourself. Kyōjurō eagerly accepted it, touched that you had gone out of your way to make it for him. However, he neglected the fact that you were a demon whom had lived for centuries and hadn’t eaten a single morsel of human food during that time. So when he took a big and unsuspecting bite of your glazed sweet potatoes, he almost died.

Kyōjurō appreciated the fact that you had cooked for him, he really did. But your cooking was, to put it bluntly, absolutely horrible. Glazed potatoes were supposed to be both savory and sweet, not overwhelmingly bitter. Was that also a hint of sourness he tasted?? And the texture. Oh god, the texture. It was a mixture of mushy, hard, and even just pure goop at some parts. He had always thought he’d be able to love every sweet potato dish he came across, no matter how bad they may have tasted. This however… Could it even be classified as edible?

Well, no matter! You had been so proud when you presented it to him and he refused to let anything you gave him go to waste. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he finished his bite, gave you a big smile, and shouted his usual ‘Umai!’. Then, he turned his attention onto the included salt grilled bream. It looked good, just like the sweet potatoes had. Question was, would it taste as bad? Though hesitant, he took another bite, albeit much smaller than the previous one. Thank goodness he did, because it was somehow worse than the potatoes. Had you mixed up the salt with sugar? Because eating that one bite of fish was like eating a bowlful of sugar. The flesh was also crunchy and he was certain it wasn’t because of the bones. He was also quite sure you had forgotten to descale the skin before cooking. But just like with the sweet potatoes, he forced himself to gulp it down and attempted to finish the entire bento. It went relatively well, until it didn’t.

“Oh my god, Kyōjurō! You’re turning green!”

With a horrified gasp, you snatched the box away from him. Though he’d tried to take it back, insisting on finishing it, you refused to let go of it. Instead, you had declared that you would keep trying until you were able to create a dish that he would find delicious. And while Kyōjurō was moved that you were determined to put in so much effort for his sake, at the same time, he couldn’t help but dread the impending assault on his tastebuds.

For the next three months, every time he was able to meet up with you, you had a fresh batch of potatoes and fish waiting for him. Sometimes you’d change things up and cook other dishes, but they were always as bad. Kyōjurō still ate them all though. As much as you’d allow him to eat, that was. You didn’t allow yourself to be fooled by his shouts of ‘Umai!’ and would always stare intently at him as he ate. If his eyebrow so much as twitched, he would find his meal gone from his hands in an instant. And finally, the day came when the contents of his bento actually tasted like real food. It was, at best, just enough to be considered as decent, but to Kyōjurō, it was the best thing he’d eaten. He may or may not have shed a happy tear or two, which may not have been a very good idea, as upon seeing that, you were once more filled with determination and had declared that you'd make it your goal to master cooking all of his favorite foods.

———

One night, out of curiosity, Kyōjurō had asked you what your Blood Demon Art was. He hadn’t actually expected you to tell him though. After all, even if the two of you had grown close, you probably wouldn’t want to reveal what your fighting techniques to someone who was technically your enemy. But to his surprise, you’d happily answered and even went as far as to actually show him, withdrawing a pair of mai-ougi* from inside your sleeves. You explained that while the fans themselves were weapons – with the edges being as sharp as a blade – its true power lay in what was painted on them. Each fan had a different painting on them and whenever someone looked at them, they would be hit with different effects depending on which they looked at. To demonstrate, you opened up one and allowed him to take a look.

At first, all Kyōjurō saw was a painting of a woman dancing with a mai-ougi in hand, the background a sky of gold with faint cloud patterns. It was a beautiful painting, but nothing special particularly stood out to him. That’s when it happened; the moment he locked eyes with the woman, his surroundings instantly changed and he found himself on a stage with a golden backdrop, four women with appearances identical to that of the woman in the painting lunging at him from every side. The edge of their fans glinted dangerously and just as he drew his weapon to fend them off, he suddenly found himself back in reality with you, the previously open mai-ougi now closed. You grinned at him as he tried to calm his pounding heart, clearly proud of your Blood Demon Art.

“They’re clearly much better than those metal slabs that Dōma lugs around.” You had proudly proclaimed, although it was more to yourself than to Kyōjurō.

He had no idea who you were talking about but decided not to probe into it when he noticed the extremely fierce look in your eyes. Instead, he asked about the effects of the other fan. Happy to show him your powers once more, you spread open the second fan and revealed a painting of a daimyō* sat atop a pitch-black horse against a blood red background, tessen* in one hand. When Kyōjurō’s gaze met with the one in the painting, rather than finding himself in a different environment, he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of fear so great that it immobilized him. Now, Kyōjurō was not a man who would typically freeze from fear. And yet, it took a great deal of willpower to even just move his eyes enough to tear them off the painting and free himself of its effects.

If there was one thing he had to say about your Blood Demon Art, it was that it was as every bit dangerous and powerful as he’d imagined, if not more. Though the painting had influenced him for no more than a few seconds, to him it’d felt like much, much longer. Had he been in a real battle with you, he most likely would have died the moment he froze up. Or who knows? Maybe his survival instincts would have kicked in and override the mai-ougi’s powers. Well, battle or not, it was good to know what exactly you were capable of.

Once Kyōjurō had regained his composure, you suggested that the two of you have a sparring match –with you fighting with your fans closed, of course. He immediately accepted, not wanting to waste the opportunity of being able to fight against an Upper Moon without it being a life-or-death situation. In the end, he lost the spar as expected. However, he found his loss to be an extremely fruitful one, as he’d been able to notice the weak points in his own fighting style much quicker than he normally would have by sparring with his fellow Hashiras.

Needless to say, it quickly became a common thing for the two of you to have random sparring sessions. Sometimes you’d be on the offensive with him on the defensive, and vice versa. Either way, Kyōjurō would always be able to learn a thing or two from each spar and you would also give him advice from time to time. Although you hardly gained anything from doing this – maybe except for familiarizing yourself with the Flame Breathing style – you were always more than happy to spar with him, glad that you could help him get even stronger.

———

Kyōjurō truly enjoyed spending time with you, cherishing every moment he could. Yet, no matter how many happy nights he shared with you, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that had rooted itself so deeply into his heart. Guilt that he felt towards neglecting part of his duties and at the thoughts of how many people fell prey to you the longer he left you alive. It became someone of a frequent occurrence for him to remain awake for hours during the times he was supposed to sleep, plagued with all sorts of gut-wrenching emotions. But no matter how much the guilt continued to pile up, he couldn’t bring himself to kill you. He finally understood now, what it truly meant to have a soulmate.

A soulmate wasn’t someone whom the universe had randomly picked out for him and whom he was obligated to love. A soulmate was someone who complemented him better than anyone else out there, who understood him and accepted him for everything he was, who stood by and supported him, and so much more. His better half, if you will. The universe was only there to help make identifying his soulmate easier; it was up to him whether he chose to love you or not. And Kyōjurō did. He loved you.

He didn’t know exactly when he had begun to fall in love, but by the time he realized it, he was in too deep to turn back.

He could still remember how clear the sky had been, each star twinkling like jewels and the full moon’s light bathing everything in a soft silvery glow. The two of you were on the shrine’s engawa to admire the view, his head resting in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. A comfortable silence filled the air between both of you with the occasional chirping of crickets being heard from off in the distance.

Basking in the peacefulness of everything, he closed his eyes in bliss. You continued to run your fingers through his hair for a short while, stopping when you quietly spoke, “…Kyōjurō?”

He hummed softly in response.

“I love you.”

Kyojruo’s eyes snapped open and when he looked up at you, he found you gazing down at him with a tender expression. Well, that was certainly one very sudden confession. Though the two of you had been intimate with each other for a while now – such as being physically affectionate, going on dates, and even buying gifts for each other that only couples would normally exchange – neither of you had ever vocalized your feelings towards each other. Even then, while he’d acknowledged to himself that he liked you, he never quite dwelled on the thought of whether he loved you. After all, it would unacceptable if he, a slayer of demons, were to fall in love with a demon, wouldn’t it?

And yet, after hearing your words, he knew without needing to think about it or question himself.

Sitting up, he brought a hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it, leaning in until your lips were almost touching. He paused, wanting to give you time to push him away in case you didn’t want this. All you did, however, was lean in into his touch as your eyes fluttered closed with anticipation. That’s when Kyōjurō closed the remaining space between the two of you, softly pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were cold against his, just like the rest of your body. But as you kissed him back, all he felt was a gentle, yet passionate warmth. In that moment, he let all his doubts and concerns melt away, instead allowing himself to be overtaken by his feelings for you and conveying those emotions through the kiss.

Eventually pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes with adoration as he softly murmured, “And I love you, [Name].”

———

*Mai-ougi are folding fans used in traditional Japanese dances *Daimyō were feudal lords who used to serve under the shogun *Tessen are also known as Japanese war fans and have varying looks and purposes

[blakeswritingimagines]

“I Won’t Say I’m In Love...With Her”

Summary: Aemond is still over you or the fact he’s supposed to marry your sister, trying to be ever the gentleman toward Nerissa until he caves to his true desires and attempts once more on making you his

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Word count: 5.6k

A/n: Part 2 of What’s The Meaning Of This

Aemond could not stop thinking about you. His world felt like it was crashing around him without you beside him. Aemond had been spending most of his time in his room, unable to sleep and hardly eating. His thoughts would wander to you often, imagining what it would be like if you were his wife and how different things would be. He had loved you for so long and had finally lost you, and he knew that your choice to have him marry Nerissa would only lead to more heartbreak for himself. Aemond’s days were spent wallowing in his grief and his nights were spent dreaming of you. He couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore. One night, after spending hours imagining what it would be like to hold you in his arms, he made a decision. Aemond had to be with you, even if it meant doing something drastic.He knew what he had to do, in order to be with the person he truly loved.

Nerissa had been going around once home with you about how well everything went and how excited she was to marry the prince, you continued go about your business thinking all would be well once he actually married your sister but didn't know he was still planning on trying to win you over and talk this out since your family wasn't listening thinking that Nerissa was a good match for him. Aemond had hoped that Nerissa’s constant bragging of their future marriage would make you see just how wrong your decision was. It was clear that Nerissa did not deserve to marry Aemond and he wanted nothing more than to make that clear to everyone. The last thing he wanted to do was go to your home and try to sort this out with Nerissa, but he knew there was no other choice. He arrived at your family home and knocked loudly on the front door.

Clara the maid had been busy cleaning before she opened the door and froze in her spot seeing the tall prince wondering why the king's son was here or if he had chosen to wed Nerissa like the young girl had claimed, snapping out of it as she quickly bowed to him and allowed him to come in to the home as she lightly tilted her head "Your majesty how can I help you?". Nerissa was in her chambers brushing her hair as you were outside in your small favorite hiding area since you were a child where you could simply be by yourself without thinking too much. As Aemond entered the home, he noticed Clara. He was well aware that she knew of the arrangement between Nerissa and him that he wished to break. He hoped to convince you to change your mind, but he knew the odds were against him. He would have to use a more delicate approach to win you back.“I wish to speak with Lady Y/n. Will you please call her for me?” Aemond made sure to be polite with Clara, as he didn’t wish for her to tell Nerissa about his visit.

Clara gave a small smile as she shook her head answering him "She's not in at the moment, but Lady Nerissa is", Not getting the chance to alert anyone since Nerissa and the parents were talking as they walked before Nerissa saw Aemond and happily walked over to him as she wrapped her arms around his tall frame and kissed his cheek not noticing him pulling away "Hello my darling missed me?". Aemond was not expecting Nerissa to be the first person he saw as he entered the house. He quickly regained his composure as he pulled himself away from her. He put a hand on Nerissa’s shoulder and tried to give her a polite smile as he replied to her question.“Good afternoon, Nerissa. As a matter of fact, I have been missing you.” It was a lie, but there was no need to hurt Nerissa’s feelings.“May I have a word with you in private?”.

Nerissa grinned at the words as she truly thought he must have come around to the idea of marrying her and living life with her beside him, nodding her head as she heard her parents speak up about having a chaperone with them both as they chose Clara to follow after them both. Nerissa took Aemond’s hand in her own as she started walking with him outside still smiling as Clara followed behind both quietly feeling awful since she could see what Nerissa didn't want to. Aemond walked with Nerissa as Clara silently followed behind. He knew that Nerissa was expecting him to be her future husband, and he didn’t want to ruin that image of him for her. But, he wished to convince her of the truth, in order to be with you. When they both eventually came to stop, Aemond took Nerissa’s hands and looked at her with his violet eyes.“Nerissa, there’s something important I need to tell you.”

Nerissa continued to hold his hands not used to there being so much quiet that she didn't seem to like but smiled as she stood up straight hearing his words, looking down as he took her hands and felt special before she looked back up at him as she nodded her head curiously as to what he needed to speak of "Is this about the bedding ceremony? I'm sure it'll be fine darling....And if it's about if I've been with anyone I haven't but I'm happy it'll be you." The words Nerissa spoke were nothing more than a hammer hitting Aemond with its full force. He felt his heart sink at her words and felt the urge to tell her the truth. But he couldn’t do that to her. He would have to play along.“We aren’t speaking about the bedding ceremony. I just wanted to ask you about the letters we had been sending each other.”Aemond stared into Nerissa’s eye, trying his best to hide his sadness and contempt towards the arrangement of their marriage. 

Nerissa brightened at his words as she laced their fingers together feeling excited that he seemed to like her better now, nodding her head in understanding before she tilted her head having pushed away any thoughts about feeling bad that now she had Aemond even if at first he had wanted you but gave him a sweet smile "What about them darling?". Aemond looked down at the interlocked fingers and tried his best to keep up with Nerissa’s excitement. But, no matter how much he tried, he simply could not ignore his true feelings. He knew that he did not want this, but he also knew that he needed to keep up the guise in order for him to achieve his goals with you. “I just wanted to know why you stole my letters. I wrote those to Lady Y/n, not you.”

Nerissa rolled her eyes as her smile dropped before she pulled her hand away from his, crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at him shaking her head gently before she spoke no longer holding excitement in her tone "Aemond I thought we were over that? You have me now, you do not need my sister now be happy about this, otherwise I'll make Y/n never comes near you again." Aemond could feel his temper flare as Nerissa spoke to him so condescendingly. This woman was so delusional and thought that she was the one for Aemond, when in fact it was you who he wanted. Aemond didn’t know how to hide his frustration at that moment and could only stare back at her with a cold expression on his face. Aemond was taken aback by the sudden shift in Nerissa’s behavior, and he wasn’t sure why she was being so harsh towards him all of a sudden. He decided to ignore her words for now and continue to play along with the deception. “Nerissa, you do understand that I intended to marry Y/n, but I am happy. I just did not think we needed to rush things like our marriage.” This was all a lie, but Aemond hoped Nerissa would believe that he still cared about her. Nerissa continued to stare up at Aemond as her eyes narrowed while she took in the words letting them process, slowly nodding her head before smiling once more as she wrapped her arms around his and leaned in close to him before she looked up again "I suppose your right, this will be a grand affair it does need to be perfect." Leaning up as she kissed his cheek "But bring up Y/n or changing your mind and I'll make sure Y/n knows what kind of man you are" She spoke sweetly as if seeing no problem with her words but gently started dragging him back to her family house.

Aemond didn’t like what Nerissa had threatened to do if he brought up you again or refused to marry her, but he continued to play along with the arrangement as they walked towards the family house. He hoped to be able to convince you of his true feelings for you, but with Nerissa’s threat, that plan was in jeopardy. As they walked, Aemond tried not to think about all that had happened, and instead chose to focus on his current situation. Nerissa continued on walking before going and telling a servant to set up a room for the prince for the night, knowing it would be scandalous if he shared a room with her even if that's what she truly wanted she knew soon enough such things wouldn't matter. Clara was cleaning once back inside before looking over as she noticed Nerissa leaving and slowly walked over to Aemond giving him another bow before she looked up and spoke quietly "My prince I do apologize for how things happened, Y/n didn't believe your first letter was for her but I should've spoken up sooner. If you do wish to speak with Y/n she went out to her favorite spot just outside where the trees are it's hidden but she should still be there."

Aemond felt his heart sink as Nerissa left and as he turned towards Clara. She was trying to help him, but he worried that Nerissa would find out. But he knew that it was important for him to speak with you, and he didn’t have many options to find you. He nodded towards Clara and spoke as quietly as he could. “Thank you, Clara; I appreciate the information.” Aemond made his way outside to the small clearing where you liked to spend time. Clara gave him a small smile as she nodded her head happy to help and try to make things better, "I'll say you went to look around the land" watching him leave through the door as she sighed before she went back to cleaning acting normal as possible. You had been out in a small clearing that was surrounded by trees and flowers often out here on a small soft blanket with snacks and water while you read whatever new book you got but had slowly fallen asleep.

As Aemond approached the clearing with you, he could see that you were peacefully asleep. He knew he should wake you up, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He walked over and sat down next to you and looked at you. Your beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen before and he felt his heart ache at the sight of you. He was filled with love for you and he wished for nothing more than to spend his future with you. He slowly laid down on the blanket to enjoy the moment with you. You turned over in your sleep leaning closer against Aemond as your book closed, not fully awake as you barely opened your eyes as you looked up at him thinking his being right there was a part of her dream "Aemond? What are you doing here?". Yawning softly but closed your eyes not thinking much about this. Aemond smiled as he felt you lean closer to him and close your eyes again. He was still not sure whether he wanted to wake you and convince you that you could be together once more. He leaned in and kissed your cheek gently as he felt his heart racing faster in his chest. In order to see his true intentions, he decided to act based on his emotions rather than thoughts. He wanted you, and he was going to get you. He hoped to convince you that you were in fact meant to be his.

Aemond knew that you would soon have to wake up, but he didn’t want to ruin this moment. Aemond placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and responded to your question.“I came to speak with you.” He didn’t know how much longer he could allow you to believe that the marriage with Nerissa was still happening, you needed to know how he truly felt about you. But, he couldn’t take away this moment. You let out a soft hum as your eyes stayed shut but laid your head on his shoulder letting a light smile on your face, still sleeping as if nothing was wrong but wasn't aware to how much things would change by the time you would wake. Aemond felt a moment of bliss as he felt you laid your head on his shoulder. Your hair was soft and your warmth was cozy. He was content with this moment for now, and he hoped that once you woke up, he would be able to convince you to run away with him. Aemond knew that it was a ridiculous idea. He was the crown prince and you were just a lady, but he still had to try. Because you were the only thing that mattered to him at that moment.

Only a few short days later Nerissa happily read another letter from Aemond even if it confused her, telling her family that he invited everyone but figured it was just to get to know everyone as everyone got ready Nerissa ready to pull you aside and tell you whatever lie Nerissa came up with about the prince. Once they arrived his mother Alicent welcomed them stating rooms were prepared for them all even if she didn't understand the problem her son was in with the whole marriage. Aemond’s mother, Alicent, was confused by his invitation, but she was pleased with the idea of bringing their two families together. As Nerissa prepared to talk to you to keep things in her favor, Aemond began to think of whatever lie he could come up with to get out of the marriage with her. Aemond wasn’t sure if Nerissa would believe the lie, but he hoped that you would. You needed to, if he had any chance of running away with you.

Aemond felt a chill go down his spine as he heard that the family would all be gathering together. He knew that Nerissa was going to talk with you and he was scared that she might ruin his plan. But, he still had to go along with the arrangement to keep up a public front. He made sure to be polite with everyone at the gathering. But, he still hoped to be able to convince you of his true feelings for you and to avoid the marriage with Nerissa at all costs. It was a tough spot for him to be in. You got settled into your temporary chambers before stopping in your tracks as you noticed sparkling gems and jewelry, looking closer as you saw all different beautiful colors and cuts before getting ready for dinner with everyone, then started speaking with Nerissa about what you saw in your room to hear her that she didn't get anything like that and wanted to switch rooms with you thinking it was an accident. Walking into the dining hall seeing Aemond and his family before seeing all of your favorite foods and even fruits that are difficult to get as you sat down in your seat seeing Nerissa lean close to him with a pout on her lips as she whispered "None of these are my favorites darling."

Aemond noticed that you had entered the dining hall and looked up at you as you took your seat. He then looked over at Nerissa and saw that she was pouting. He knew that Nerissa was trying to make him look bad to her sister, but he ignored her comments for now. He tried to stay focused on you and your happiness, and he continued eating his dinner. His heart continued to ache at your beauty and his love for you. He was so glad that he brought your the food you enjoyed. Aemond felt his chest sink when he saw Y/n’s reaction to the items he had prepared. But, he still wanted to convince her that he still cared for her. He looked over to Nerissa, noticing her pout as she leaned in close to him. He spoke through a forced smile, trying to seem happy about everything even though it was just an act. “Nerissa has been helping me in all my preparations. The food is in honor of her favorite things.”

Nerissa looked at the table with disgust before she looked over at Aemond once more as she shook her head, "No I didn't these aren't even my favorites, these are Y/n's-" Cutting off her own sentence as she narrowed her eyes at him with anger as she clenched her teeth and spoke "These are Y/n's favorites" Crossing her arms over her chest not caring about the tension she was causing feeling it was all his fault for it. Aemond couldn’t help but smile a little at Nerissa’s sudden outburst, as it proved that she had been paying very close attention to all the details. “Nerissa is right.” Aemond said with a smile. He couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction at seeing Nerissa get jealous. He continued to speak with a soft voice as he looked over at the entire family and explained. “All the items on this table are specific to Y/n’s tastes.”

You had already been putting food on your plate before looking up hearing your name and looked at everyone who was already looking at you, "What? what I'd do?" Tilting your head slightly before looking over at Aemond and Nerissa in surprise but smiled brightly at them both "That's very kind thank you both" Waiting until prayer was over to start eating but didn't notice the juice from the fruit dripping down your lower lip. Aemond felt his heart fill with joy at your words. You had been the only one who didn’t seem to notice that he had purposely chosen your favorite items. And the way that the juice from the fruit dripped on your lower lip made you even more attractive to him. He couldn’t wait any longer. He wanted to tell you everything, but he didn’t know how. He knew he needed to find a way to talk to you alone.

Aemond felt a moment of relief as you seemed to respond kindly to his gifts and the dinner, but he was slightly surprised that you didn’t seem to suspect anything. He was just glad that you seemed to be enjoying the food. “You’re very welcome.” Aemond said with a smile as he began eating his own food. You gave him another kind smile as you continued to eat listening to the small talk going around the table, looking over at the oldest Targaryen sibling Rhaenyra and gave her a kind smile as you spoke softly "I simply adore your necklace princess, it's gorgeous." Aemond had to force himself to be engaged in the conversation with the rest of the families, but he still kept his eyes on you. He felt a small moment of pride as you noticed Rhaenyra’s necklace. 

Aemond knew that he was trying his best to get everyone to see just how much he cared about you. He was doing this all out of love. “I see that my love is not the only one who can appreciate your sense of fashion but my sister as well.” Aemond said to you no longer attempting to look at Nerissa. Aemond felt his heart lift a little at the sight of you giving Rhaenyra a kind smile. But, he didn’t want to take any chances. He tried his best to sound as sincere as possible when he spoke.“Y/n’s taste is truly marvelous.” Aemond said with a smile. He hoped that you would be able to catch on to the fact that he was paying much more attention to you than any one else at the table. 

You gave Aemond another smile before looking down at your plate feeling shy due to his complimentary words, soon enough you had finished dinner and was excused then started walking down the long hallways as you started to walked back to the private chambers given to you to get ready for bed and take some time for yourself. Aemond finished his dinner as well, knowing that this was the perfect time to speak privately with you. He quickly excused himself from the table ignoring Nerissa and made his way towards your chambers as well, as he walked, he felt his heart racing as he thought about the fact that he was going to speak with you about wanting to marry you and about your true feelings. He was filled with doubt and fear, but ultimately, he knew that he had to go through with it.

You had changed out of the clothes you had been wearing and put on a nightgown before looking through the oddly specific books that were in the room, softly smiling to yourself almost feeling at home in the room but knew it was probably nothing and went to open the door slightly when you heard knocking on the door "Yes?". Aemond saw the shy look on your face as he entered the room and he hoped to make you feel at ease. He looked at the books he picked out thinking you would enjoy and that you seemed to be reading and he couldn’t help but feel a little sad that he was marrying Nerissa instead of you. “I asked to speak with you because…” Aemond started. He stopped, his heart racing and his mind racing as he decided how he wanted to approach this. It was all or nothing at this point.

You nodded your head as you sat down with the prince watching as he tried several times to form the words, giving him enough time to think about how to say whatever was on his mind before he seemed to finally started to talk telling you of an odd dream he had about a very familiar clearing with trees and flowers. After training, he was so tired, that he went to take a little nap, and he had a very funny dream. He dreamed of a beautiful field, with a big tree, and about singing birds, certain foods and just relaxing enough, he dreamed of the pleasant noise of trees and grass which caused your jaw to drop in shock before clearing your throat. Aemond felt a moment of relief as you understood the reference to the clearing that he had “dreamt” about. But now Aemond faced an important question. Should he tell you the truth about his feelings for you, or continue to pretend that he still wished to marry Nerissa? He knew that you had to know the truth and that the longer he let this lie continue, the worse it would be for both you and him. Aemond took a deep breath before speaking. “Nerissa is not who I want to marry.” He spoke with conviction.

"Aemond… who is it you wish to marry then?" You looked at him anxiously. As if you already knew the answer especially after the last time you both spoke one on one, the only question that matters now is the ‘why’. "You surprised me, Aemond. You have always expressed fondness for her, if not love." Your face was a mask of curiosity. But there was hope in your voice, as you wanted to hear him say, what you wanted him to say. “I wish to marry you.” Aemond spoke nervously, not knowing how you would respond. His heart was in his throat as he feared that you would reject him, but he knew that it was something that had to be done. “I have never felt such a strong connection with anyone the way I do with you. I can’t imagine being married to Nerissa. I want to be with you.” Aemond took a deep breath as he took in your response, waiting to be rejected.

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard his confession. You never thought that Aemond felt such a strong connection to you. But now, all the pieces clicked in place. Aemond’s kindness, his words, his actions and attention he paid to you. You didn’t even need to think twice and your response came swift like thunder in the storm. "Aemond- You're serious?" Your voice was soft as rain and you were lost in his eyes now. Aemond felt a huge rush of excitement as he heard you confirm that he was serious. He felt a smile spread across his face as he knew that the feeling between you both was mutual. He nodded his head to your question. “More than serious. I love you.” He couldn’t believe that he had just confessed his feelings to you, but he was happy to finally say the words that he had harbored for so long.

Feeling your heart pounding in your chest as Aemond confessed his love to you. "You love me?" Your voice was filled with joy and a little bit of disbelief. You didn’t see that coming. You placed a gentle hand on Aemond's face and a soft kiss to his lips, as sweet as the song of the night. You felt tears of joy fill your eyes as you finally heard that Aemond loved you and you didn't need to worry he was going to marry your sister. "I love you, Aemond. I always have." You said breathlessly, leaning into the kiss. Aemond felt the hair on his body stand up as you put your lips on his and he couldn’t help but feel a rush of butterflies. He felt his heart rush at your tender touch and his mind felt free of all of the stress that he had felt for so long even as a prince. As you continued to kiss Aemond, he kissed back, enjoying every moment of it. He couldn’t believe that he was finally free from this secret, but he couldn’t wait for the future with you to begin. You slowly pulled away with your eyes closed from the kiss still reveling in the moment, slowly opening your eyes looking at him before a sudden feeling of guilt as you stood up pacing the floor running your fingers through your hair as well as tugging on the roots. Muttering to yourself that this wasn't right he was marrying your sister and he should be in love with her but couldn’t help feeling awful for kissing Aemond and shook your head ready to cry.  Aemond felt his heart sink as he saw you stand up and pace the room, and he could see the worry and guilt behind your eyes. He couldn’t let this moment end like this. So, he stood up and went over to you, taking your hands in his own as he turned you towards him.“Please… listen to me.” He spoke in a soft but firm voice. “I do not love Nerissa the way we both know I love you. I want to spend my life with you. Not with her.”

Aemond could see a few tears start to fall and he leaned closer so that he could help you any way he could. “What’s wrong?” Aemond asked, with genuine concern in his voice. He placed both of his hands on your shoulders to keep you from pacing or hurting yourself. “Tell me what’s wrong, Y/n. You can trust me.” "I feel guilty, Aemond, I feel guilty." You confessed as you wiped your tears. "I shouldn’t be doing this with you. You are already promised to my sister." A tear rolled down your cheek, your voice trembling with fear and shame. "Nerissa is my baby sister. If she found out… she would be heartbroken. Her pure and innocent heart would be shattered." You said, your voice full of agony for the girl you would hurt. Aemond wanted to comfort Y/n, but he didn’t want to do anything that might upset her. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about Nerissa as well. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not fair for Nerissa.” Aemond said with a disappointed look on his face. “But…” Aemond didn’t want to say the words that were in his mind, but he knew that he had to. “I can’t marry Nerissa.” Y/n was startled by Aemond’s confession. She was confused and hurt by his words. Why he couldn't marry her sister? When the agreement was already sealed by their parents. The words of her parents echoed in her ears. But she was relieved Aemond was not marrying her sister just because he had to. Maybe he really had feelings for someone. "Why?, Why you can't marry Nerissa?" Y/n asked with a broken voice, as her words had the taste of ash. She tried to look into his eyes but tears had blurred the world for her.

Aemond knew that the truth would be painful for you to hear. He felt guilty that he was the reason that you were crying. But he knew that it was important that he be honest with you.  knowing that what he was about to say could be quite controversial. He felt his stomach turn into knots as he gathered the courage to tell you the truth. “I… don’t want to marry Nerissa. I never did.” Aemond said it with a calm demeanor, but there was a lot of emotion boiling inside of him right now. “I want to marry you.” You wiped the tear which was flowing again on your cheek as you heard Aemond’s confession. You felt joy, happiness, and hope. But there was a big BUT, Nerissa was still promised to him. That’s something even he couldn't change now, even if you wished. "But Our parents promised you to my sister, remember? Don’t you understand what is going to happen to her when she finds out about our affection? What will it do to her?" You started to sob as the tears were running without control as if you had lost. For a moment you believed your ears were playing tricks on you and that it was not what Aemond had said at all. It couldn’t be true, right? He was marrying her sister after all it just didn’t make sense. But the truth was there in his eyes and you felt a warmth and happiness settle in your heart. "Are you- Are you sure, Aemond?" You finally found the words to speak, but there was still a hint of doubt in your voice. You were scared of being broken again.

Aemond felt a sense of relief as he heard the happiness in your voice. However, he also felt a bit conflicted as you mentioned the promise that your parents had made, he couldn’t help but feel apathy that Nerissa would be hurt if you both defied your parents but kept trying to be gentle. “I know it sounds absurd… but we don’t need to hide our feelings anymore.” Aemond insisted. “We are both adults and we know what we want. We don’t need to do as our parents say.” Aemond’s heart sank as he heard you response. He couldn’t believe that he had caused you this much pain when after everything he’s done was for your happiness. He felt his eyes fill with tears as he saw how heartbroken you were to hear the truth from his own mouth. But Aemond couldn’t help but speak his mind. “I couldn’t marry anyone else but you” He tried to reassure you. “We could figure everything out, I’m sure of it.” Your mind was filled with a thousand thoughts at the same time, as you struggled with all the emotions you were feeling. You were happy for yourself because you might just marry Aemond after all. But at the same time, you felt guilty and hurt for your sister. You couldn’t break Nerissa’s heart. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve all this pain. "Aemond, I don't want to have to choose between you and my family," You said, with fear in your eyes. "Aemond…" You whispered, as you moved closer to him and placed your hands on his face.

Aemond noticed the way that you moved closer to him and placed your hands on his face. He felt his heart skip a beat as he looked into your eyes. He placed his own hands over yours and he spoke to you softly. “I don’t plan on marrying anyone else but you. I told you, we can figure everything out.” Aemond pulled you in for a hug, unable to hold back his feelings for you any longer. Aemond’s eyes went wide with surprise as you moved closer and placed your hands on his face. He felt his mind race as he saw your face. He didn’t know what to say or do, but he liked how close you were to him. He placed his hands on top of your hands to lock them onto his face. He didn’t say anything at first, as he let this moment of silence sink in before slowly speaking.

 “We need to tell Nerissa about us.”

[c0smoshit]

Guilt ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Familiar faces with not so pretty words appear in Cloud's dream

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!!, fluff too, traumatised Cloud, HUGE FF7 SPOILERS, Not proofread!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ This fic contains really big spoilers from the original game that haven't appeared yet on the remake!!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 4.705

Aerith

Wait

"Why didn't you save me Cloud?"

What?

"You tried to kill me"

It was Sephiroth not me... What is going on?

"You left me to die there, don't you remember?"

Suddenly the voice that took all the space in that weird unlighted room came into vision. She was backwards, her long hazel braid adorned with a cute pink ribbon on top and that characteristic red jacket beyond a long dress... It was really her.

Did I die and went into a purgatory for what I had done? Am I in some sort of limbo?

No it can't be. I saw her die in front of me, this is just some stupid dream...

"I miss you Cloud"

...Right?

Her face was soft and full of live, her green orbs overshadowing the rest of her features. She looked so... real

He stayed silent as the girl approached him slowly, smiling sweetly as her dress followed her steps graciously. He kept thinking about that day, the day she let go of him, cradled in his arms as her lifeless body sank itself into the water, returning to the lifestream.

Something felt odd, her face wasn't as lively as he remembered it to be. Her face was like a ray of sun, always emanating energy and happiness to her surroundings. Now her face felt empty, altough she was smiling, it was like there wasn't any true emotion behind her factions.

"Why did you let me go?"

She kept talking, and with every word that fell from her mouth he felt himself growing deeper and deeper into sorrow.

Of course I remember her, I miss her too and I'm was very aware that I had tried to kill her on top of that translucent glass.

It wasn't him, he had done everything that he could to stop himself from slicing her in half. But no matter how hard he repeated to himself that it wasn't his fault, there was always this agravating voice inside of his head that blamed him. He still felt like it was his fault, he should've been stronger, he should've been a SOLDIER.

A hand touched his shoulder, making him tense up, there was someone else here too. His eyes fell first to the recognizable black gloves and he didn't have to turn around to be sure he'd be met with dark spiky hair.

Why couldn't I be like him?

That question often flooded his mind, ever since he was just a kid who just wanted to pursue a dream. Life could've been easier if he had just became a SOLDIER, deep down he thought that if he was stronger maybe you'd like him more.

"I thought you were strong"

A huskier voice spoke now, much stronger than the one that spoke earlier. The hand had such a powerfull hold on his shoulder Cloud pictured himself being buried into the ground just by the force of it. And he wished it was his strength instead.

"You could've protected her, protected me"

I know, I fucking know.

"Aerith will no longer talk, no longer laugh, cry... or get angry..."

He remembers himself saying that in front of that self-centered son of a bitch. Many times had he crossed his path and promised everyone that he'd kill him, but instead he was just being controlled by him. Forcing him into doing things he didn't want to, give him things he wouldn't let slip out of his grasp.

He felt grief, he felt embarrassed but on top of those feeling he felt lost.

He was already a grown up and he didn't even know his true self, everything about his life seemed... fake.

Like someone was just piloting him and he was on the passenger seat.

He also felt weak.

An adjective he had learnt to totally despise over the years.

He couldn't enter into SOLDIER because he wasn't strong enough, he couldn't save Tifa from that fall because he wasn't fast enough, he couldn't save Aerith from Sephiroth because well... he wasn't good enough.

When he was just a child he thought Tifa's friends were childish and weak, that he wouldn't be like them, that he wasn't like them.

But turns out... maybe he was the weak and childish one.

He then felt himself being dragged into the void, everything went dark around him. A pitch-black blanket covered him tightly, or what he thought it was.

Zack and Aerith were now gone, he was floating alone.

His limbs were numb, his eyes were closed for an instant before they were opened again. A familiar sandy path appeared right in front of him, an old truck resting on the side of it. He then saw the tall metalic structure, something he had crossed multiple times when he was younger. Houses adorned the little village in an almost perfect circle, red roofs and white bricks.

His younger him walked in front of him, steps full of energy and youth. He felt somewhat jealous of him, he had so many dreams and fantasies he pursued. Little could expect that boy to happen in reality.

The little boy ran before he could grab him, vanishing from his vision as another person came into it instead. Altough he was backwards, anyone could know who he was. Long white hair and dark clothes, eyes full of rage and power as he tilted his head to see Cloud.

Soon the houses were light with red and orange flames, the air becoming dense and har to breathe through the ashes and the imminent warmth.

"What about MY saddness!?"

He also pictured himself shouting that to Sephiroth, words full of rage and saddness. The man he trusted the most, the man who he thought was so strong and, just someone who he could follow his steps. He was now laughing at him, speaking to him as if he was rubbish, some sort of puppet.

He was tired of him, tired of seeing him everywhere. He remembers his confusion that day, his anger and his saddness. He thought that wasn't the real Sephiroth, that this was just some sort of joke.

He hated him, he wanted him dead right in front of him but he hated himself more. He hated that he probably wasn't going to be strong enough to even touch him.

He was just a traumatised kid.

Then you appeared, trapped bellow a wooden board. You had the most frightened eyes he had ever seen, you were sweating, screaming and begging for him to save you.

"Cloud!"

He tried to run to were you were, to shout that you were going to be okay, that he was going to rescue you and take you back home without any scratch.

"Please..."

When he saw you going limp on that board his heart clenched. Not again, god, he would sell his soul to the devil just to save you. He couldn't see you like that, not when he could save you.

"Hang on!"

He shouted to you as he began lifting the rusty board from you, helping you out from the fire. Your body fell and he managed to catch you, you were hot, really hot. This wasn't good.

"It's alright"

He tried to reassure you, he knew he wasn't the best with words but he tried. Why couldn't he be like one of those cool heroes who managed to save everyone and always have such good words to say?

You didn't open your pretty eyes, your breathing was getting calmer and weaker. He held you tightly to his body as he felt the warmth of the fire enveloping both of you.

He couldn't do this anymore, first Zack then Aerith and now you.

He couldn't lose you, you were his last hope on this tragic planet. You two had been through hell and back together, you couldn't die that easily right?

"Please answer me"

He shook you lightly, patting your cheek as he tried to wake you up. But none of that worked, you felt heavier on top of him... lifeless.

He felt himself tearing up, not you. He needed you, you couldn't just be gone that easily. He held you tightly to his body as he let himself cry into your shoulder.

Your smell was mixed with the smoke, your relaxed muscles sprawled on top of him as a little tear shed from your eye. He was devastated. The girl that had helped him through everything, who offered him a shoulder to cry on whenever he needed it, who lended him a warm bed and fresh food with such a sweet smile. She was now dead on top of him and it was all his fault.

"Come on"

A wave of guilt washed over him, he still hasn't thanked you enough for all the shit you had done for him. All the sleepless nights you had spent taking care of him and his stupid wounds.

His arms lifted you in bridal style, just like he did with Aerith. No, this time it could be different, it had to.

Your head rested on his shoulder and he could've found that view cute if you weren't fucking dying on his arms. He hated this, the scorching fire enveloping both of you as he tried to find somewhere to go. His head spinned and ached, he needed to get you somewhere safer.

But the more he ran and ran, the more blurry his surroundings became. His legs were burning, his lungs too, but he needed to save you.

And then... darkness again, his skin was no longer sweaty thanks to the burning flames.

You were still on his arms with your eyes closed and no signs of breathing. He quickly hugged you close to his body, begging you to wake up to just talk to him, open your gorgerous eyes for him to see just one more time.

But you didn't, instead you felt... lighter, as if your soul was slowly leaving your body. He could still smell the soapy shampoo you used that lingered on your hair, a smell that always brought comfort to him.

It wasn't fair, he was tired

Tired of seeing everyone die right in front of him, the time he had spent with them and the bonds he had created with them now becoming just memories. And he couldn't do anything about it, he should've done something sooner.

He often wondered why was he alive, why not him, why did poor souls of innocent friends had to die and not him.

"Cloud"

He quickly shoved his head off your shoulder, eyes trying to focus on your own ones. But you were still asleep on his arms, what? It was your voice who said his name, why didn't you wake up?

His mako eyes flicked up and looked into the void, there was nobody there, it was just... darkness.

"Cloud"

Your voice called him again and it echoed though his ears, where were you? Well, first off were was he?

Your words were laced with sleppiness, coming out a bit groggy and husky. You were calling him but your lips didn't move when you talked.

He felt someone shake his shoulder but when he tried to look at whoever who was touching him he saw emptiness. The shaking became harsher, but it didn't feel like someone strong was shaking him. It was more like if someone wanted to wake him up, it reminded him of his mother and how she woke him up with gentle shakes. But a kiss wasn't placed on his cheek or forehead so he was pretty sure it wasn't her.

An anguish pain struck his forehead, his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat as he sat on top of a mattress. The room was dark except for the dim moonlight that entered through the window, blocking the chilly air.

His hands fisted the mattress hard, knuckles white before his eyes locked with yours. Thank god you were safe and without any burn scars or serious wounds. Your hair was messy and your eyes were practically forcing themselves to remain open.

He then noticed your hand holding your reddened forehead, it looked like someone had punched you right in the middle of it.

"Are you alright?"

You muttered a quiet "oww" before his own forehead began to hurt again. That was when he realised what could've happened and boy did he felt bad.

He suddenly remembered where he was and what was happening, you two were resting in an inn as Tifa had decided that it was the best idea before the night reached your path. Both of you shared a pretty nice room, your bed a few inches appart from his, divided by a cute wooden bedside table.

He remembers your excited and happy face when you first saw the bedroom, an emotion he couldn't understant. I mean... It was just a bedroom. But that was something that he absolutely adored about you.

He didn't know why or how but you always managed to make him feel the way you did. Wherever he saw a normal room you saw a cozy cute room that was absolutely perfect to rest in after a long day. Whenever he saw a cloudy and boring day you saw the opportunity to go out and let the rain wash over your body, running and smiling around.

"Are you alright?"

His breathing was still uneaven, the sour taste of seeing you lifeless on his arms still lingered on his tongue. He nodded quite quickly at your question, still disorientated.

"You were making weird noises in your sleep and then... And then you started moving around"

He listened carefully to what you were saying but his eyes finally took in your state. You were sitting besides him on his bed, your puffy eyes and your messed up nightgown showed that you had probably just woken up.

"I tried to wake you up and when I did you sat up so abruptly that our foreheads smashed into each other"

So that was the reason of his weird headache, touching it as he saw you mimick his actions. He was incredibly sorry, he shouldn't have woken you up in the first place and when you tried to help him get out of that horrific nightmare he just hurt you.

He kept apologising to you, telling you how sorry he was for waking you up like this. But you only smiled at him, shuffling closer to him and telling him that it wasn't a big deal.

"I just had a bad dream, that's- that's all"

His words were followed by an evident sad tone, keeping to himself the actual nightmare he had just seen.

But when he tried to explain to you that it was nothing he was met with two warm arms surrounding his middle part. His hands stayed akwardly on the sheets, letting you hug him before he gently returned the hug.

He didn't know he wanted your hug but he needed it. You felt so warm and nice just like a blanket wrapped around him in a winter night. He never wanted to let go of you, god since when had he gotten so emotional?

A flash of images about the earlier dream he had passed through his eyes and he had to force himself not to hug you tighter to his body, just to feel that you were real. To ensure that you were there with him alive and breathing.

But you were the one that hugged him tighter, pressing your chest against his as you laid your head on his shoulder your mouth just bellow his ear. His mouth was slightly open and his cheeks grew hotter, clearly not used to this closiness with someone.

But he pushed those thoughts away, akwardly placing his hands around your waist. He was so glad you were here with him, so glad that it all was a bad dream.

He hated hugs, he hated when people invaded his personal space, but having someone that gave you a warm hug after an almost traumatic experience felt just right. You actually cared about what he had to say or what he wanted to do, you were there when he needed you.

He felt stupid for all the times you offered him a hug and he ,arrogantly, declined them. This felt like heaven.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Your sweet and soothing voice ringed through his ears in such a perfect way he would have melted on spot. He didn't know what was happening to him but he just was so emotional with you. Maybe it was because he didn't really have anyone to calm him down after a bad dream.

He stayed silent for a few seconds, he couldn't lie to you but he didn't want to open up to someone about his feelings too. He was taught that feelings were for weaklings, thst he didn't need them. He felt stupid for having them but he couldn't help it, he was just a guy after all.

"Aerith was there"

He started speaking without wanting to, he finally broke that akward barrier with you. He felt your breath hitch for an instant and before you could open your mouth he talked again.

"She was with Zack and they were-"

He cut himself off by clearing his throat a bit, thinking about the words he was going to use.

"They were... blaming me for what happened"

Your eyebrows furrowed and now you cut him off before he could speak again, your head pulling off from his shoulder, eyes facing his neck as you held him close to you.

"It wasn't your fault"

"Don't blame yourself for what happened, you did more than enough"

Your words hit him harder than a brick, he expected you to say something similar but those words actually coming out of your mouth made his heart clench.

"You were there for both of them, you protected them. But sometimes things don't go as you expected"

He didn't know when you had placed your hand on his cheek but he leant against it, his eyes know facing your gorgerous sleepy ones. He had always found you really pretty, he liked the way you smiled and how you laughed at dumb one-liners.

But or course he would never say that to you.

He stared at your face like a lost puppy, listening intently to what you were saying. He could listen to you for hours and he loved doing it whenever you two were together with the rest of the group. He actually sticked closer to you whenever he had the chance, the way you friskily moved your hands or the gestures you'd make. You were so... natural and charming.

"Aerith must be proud of you and so must be Zack, you were by their side the whole time"

Your thumb started stroking his cheek, keeping your movements gentle and steady. He could've fell asleep right there, his hands still rested on your waist and when he noticed he quickly retrieved them.

He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, not when you were helping him so much, holding him on your arms, whispering through the night breeze such reassuring words.

He can't recall the day he felt this safe and good with someone, not even with his own mother. He sure had heard before some motivational words coming out of Barret or Tifa's mouth but your's were deeper than theirs. He needed to hear them, he needed you.

"It's all Sephiroths fault, how could I have trusted him? You almost..."

He opted not to continue, it was probably the best option because he didn't want to talk about your death again, not in front of you. He had already talked too much about his dream.

Your hand trailed itself up to his shoulder, faces close together before your lips moved again.

"We'll take care of him, together"

Your last words were matched with a tender squeeze on his shoulder, bringing him the comfort he didn't know he needed. His eyes rested on yours, inspecting them carefully, taking mental images of them.

"You're a tough guy Cloud, no white haired weird guy could take you down"

He smiled a bit a your description and so did you, offering him a wolfish grin before whispering again.

"His hair sure didn't age well"

He let a little chuckle escape his lips, forgetting for an instant why were you up in the first place. After that silence fell all over the room, the only noise that could be heard was the gentle sway of the leaves and the slight night breeze.

The moonlight hit your face, making it glow in an almost ethereal way and he swore he felt the time freeze. He was so comfortable right now with you by your side, he never wanted this to end.

You both looked into eachother's faces, eyes trailing over the tiniest little features before always returning to both of your eyes. This was prolonged for almost three minutes, both of you just breathing and admiring each other, waiting for someone to do something.

"You should get some rest"

Your voice broke the silence again, but not in a good way as earlier. He saw you depart from him, your warm body left his, he didn't want you to go that quickly.

How much time had passed since you sat down with him?

"No"

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. He didn't know where this sudden movement came from but he didn't care if it made you stay.

So you silently complied, sitting down with him again and as magnets attract each other, your bodies crashed together again in a warm hug. He couldn't give a damn about the fact that you were practically crushing him above the bed, he was happy to have someone to hold to in these awful nights.

He wasn't usually like this, he did not fucking know were this demeanor came from but he knew that he liked you like this.

Your body rolled itself so it rested by his side, no longer on top of him wrapped like a blanket. Your hands wrapped around his head, holding his face close to your chest while his own hands held your waist tightly, afraid to let go of you. His blonde spiky hair trickled your arms, he looked so cute like this; wrapped tightly against your chest like a little kid, eyes closed and slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"Sleep tight, Cloud"

He loved how his name rolled off your tongue, he could picture your mouth slowly making a little "O" shape when you said his last letters.

You were so good, maybe too good to him and for what? He was just an arrogant quiet guy who only cared for himself (or so is what he thought about himself) He admired you, your strength to lift yourself up when you had fallen to the ground with a heavy "thud! ", how you put other people's feelings or even lives before your own one, how you managed to easily forgive pieces of shit that had caused you or the group a bad time just because you were too emphatic.

And here you were now, holding him like he was made out of glass, he would cry right now. But he didn't, he sticked to just holding you tightly to him, assuring himself that you were there with him. You rubbed his hair gently, carefully massaging his scalp, he felt as if a goddess was massaging his head instead, and it wasn't far away from reality because he really saw you as an angel.

Your little snores made his heart flutter, you had fallen asleep on his arms, your hand no longer caressing his hair. And he quickly followed you, drifting off to Cloud 9 before he could even admire your asleep form.

That night he had the best sleep he'd ever had since months, craddled nicely on your arms as if he was a little kid who had slept on his mommy's bed after a bad dream (that was indeed what had happened). Your limbs were tangled together, your head resting on top of his as the blanket was quickly replaced with your body. He really couldn't thank you enough.

This was the first time he had sleep with someone like this and he surely would do it again. But it wasn't just somebody it was you, you were special.

His mind drifted to images of you, the day he first saw you on a dress Aerith had told you it was made just for you, and it clearly was. That time when you stopped by Costa del Sol and you and the girls played along the sea, barefoot and splashing water at each other. That day back in Midgar when you had found stray cats and quickly petted them, held them in your lap as you rubbed their belly and earnt some purrs.

He didn't know why but he just wanted to keep you to himself, hug you until he died in your arms.

He also loved how your hair smelt, a fresh fruity scent that he was now delighted to enjoy for as long as he wanted to. Your hands and how they worked wonders on him when you gave him a massage or when you treatted his wounds. Your eyes, god they were so gorgerous he could spend the rest of his life staring at them.

But his mind also drifted to your limp state on his arms, was that a future vision? He remembers he had some weird flashes of Aerith's dead when he first was with her. He was deeply worried, he didn't know what his mind or his body were actually capable of and he didn't even wanted to know.

He knew something was wrong with him since he was just a child, he was different to the other kids. Maybe if he acted distant and cool they would play with him or maybe not.

Deep down he knew he only wanted to feel wanted, to feel loved. He had spent his whole life pushing those feelings away, it would only complicate things. But it just felt so good to be held like this, to hear those quiet but deep words. He wanted you, he had loved you since he had met you, you were... god he can't even describe you.

All this Shinra and the world being destroyed was so tiring for him, why did he had to solve everything? He was sick of hearing that name, sick that the only purpose of his life was to stop him, to go after him. But he had started all this, he needed to finish what he had caused.

But on nights like this, he only craved for you, for you to just be there for him, hold him tightly to your body as you told him that nothing would go wrong. To dry his eyes when he fell apart, to massage his hair. He wanted you.

You were there with him, he was glad that this wasn't some shit he had made up inside his head.

Your hands tugging his hair were the reason the woke up, slowly opening his eyes, praying that you'd still be there. And you were, greeting him with the sweetest smile he could have ever seen. Your tired eyes stared down at him, eyebrows slightly furrowing a bit as you woke up too.

This was a sight he wanted to see way more often.

[yanderes-galore]

Hii can I request a platonic hc for Blue diamond from Steven universe with a human ❤️

Sure! The original Blue Diamond concept was set in the middle so I will focus a bit more on the platonic human aspect of it.

Original Blue Diamond Concept

Yandere! Platonic! Blue Diamond with Human! Darling

(Adds onto original)

(Pre-Era 3 and Post-Era 3 Blue Diamond)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Degrading behavior, Darling is treated like a pet, Unhealthy coping with grief, Manipulation, Isolation, Kidnapping implied, Blue is trying to understand others, Fear of abandonment implied, Wow the yandere actually tries to improve for once?

Blue Diamond would treat a human darling like a pet.

You as a human are both similar yet different to Gems.

She can't fully see you as a Gem and instead thinks back to how Pink treated humans.

Pink would've kept you in her zoo and while Blue knows you'd thrive there...

She wants to keep you as a personal pet instead of an attraction.

Perhaps she can learn why Pink liked these creatures so much....

Blue Diamond would probably baby her human while caring for them.

You're certainly not treated like your own person when she decides to keep you.

Why would she?

You're so small to her!

The good thing is Blue Diamond is the most compassionate of the Diamonds excluding Pink.

Instead of exploring a romantic sense of adoration towards you in this she shifts more towards the idea of pet than usual.

She adores how adorable you are in her large hands and tries not to drop you in the pool within her room.

It feels a bit disturbing to you.

To counter the grief of Pink, Blue gives you all sorts of suffocating affection.

She wants her human to feel loved and cared for.

Just as Pink would've wanted.

It also makes you cry by force due to her power.

You help her with her emotions which is a good thing as you feel overwhelmed by her crying at times.

She never means to use her power against you and feels horrible that she's making you cry.

They do not share her care towards you.

Blue never lets you out of her sight as she is scared the other Diamonds will see you.

Blue really wants to overcome the differences between you and tries to understand you.

She watches you express being homesick and tries to comfort you by rubbing your back with her finger.

She whispers that she'll try to make Homeworld feel like home to you too.

She watches your 'tantrums' whenever you feel upset or angered at your situation.

She then expresses patience towards you and allows you to wear yourself out.

Blue feels by watching and understanding your emotions as you do with her will bring you two together.

Blue likes a human who expresses empathy and sympathy.

Those are traits she tries to share with her human in an attempt to care for you better.

Soon Blue tries to see you as more than a cute pet once she has you to herself for awhile.

This is usually towards the start of Era 3 and sometime during future.

This is when Blue finally begins to see you as a person.

While her affection now feels a little less degrading... there's a different annoyance to it now.

Blue now decides it would be better to mom her human while she gets better at understanding others thanks to Steven.

Now you instead have Blue caring for you like a child.

For example she picks out clothes, makes sure you're clean, gives food, etc....

She finally tries to talk with you on an equal level which is an improvement

Blue is most excited about the fact she no longer needs to hide you from the other Diamonds.

She also feels it would be right to have you visit Earth once Era 3 starts.

When you do meet Steven you thank him endlessly.

Steven is confused until you tell him what you went through.

Your abduction, being treated like a pet, etc....

Steven is surprised at this and offers to mediate the strange relationship between you.

He really does like helping people and you are an odd case.

When Blue hears the news she's hesitant.

She's scared Steven will take you away from her and she's been through so much with you.

Steven assures her that he may not have to when he meets with you.

He just wants to teach her how to adore you a safer way.

This can end a few ways.

You both go back to Homeworld and the connection between you gets better...

The talk doesn't work and she continues to degrade you with her overwhelming affection...

Or Steven tries to keep you on Earth for a break and Blue loses her mind.

It's going to take some time in order for Steven to 'heal' the two of you.

He's got his work cut out for him, especially when Blue starts to cry at the idea of losing her human despite how she treated you.

Blue Diamond has grown attached to you and is still getting used to the world changing around her...

However, since she does truly adore you, she'll try to change for the better to make the both of you happy.

[dirtytransmasc]

What’s a Spider au you have that you feel is underrated and always wanted to talk about more?

my tsu'tey adopts spider au, it didn't take to my page as well as I would have liked it to. (I'm just gonna jot down whatever I think about, with little to no organization, just thoughts)

I just love it so much cause its the unlikely, grumpy, human-hating dad and his very human, ball of sunshine, son. plus, I'm disabled, I made tsu'tey disabled, and its just satisfying writing him, this man consumed by his own grief and self hatred coming around to the fact that the world is still turning, the suns still glowing, life isn't pointless, all because of this little child he can't get rid of. I see tsu'tey, had he survived, becoming a cruel recluse, not wanting to interact with anyone, wanting to hole up somewhere with his self pity as he wished he had just died, but instead he was stripped of everything and allowed to live. but now he has this little kid who loves him and couldn't live without him, who drags him out of his shell with his tiny little hands, forcing him to live after years of just barely surviving.

first tsu'tey just barely allows him around, not having the energy to push him away, but then he realizes he's one of the few people who gives the child any attention, and even in his prick state, can't cast the child aside to be alone. then he becomes a sort of mentor, teaching spider to be one with his spirit, his na'vi spirit bottled up in a human body. he was the one who taught spider the ways of eywa and The People, how to shoot a bow, how to hunt, how to sing and partake in the village's customs, how to fight. spider becomes a little tsu'tey, and tsu'tey becomes a whole new version of himself. tsu'tey himself finds he is much less burdened by hate and anger once he truly takes to spider, he's happier, he has a purpose again.

both are able to act almost in unison, knowing each other's habits, spider practically copying his dad, tsu'tey leaning into spider's personal spins on said copying. both are creatures of spontaneous habit, they do just about the same thing every day, might mix it up here and there, but not by much. they end up spending more time quietly enjoying one another's company, finishing each other's tasks, sentences when they do talk. its almost uncanny how similar they are, throwing other's off around them.

its not like they don't talk, its just that basic things go unsaid, tsu'tey doesn't need to ask for spider to pass his bow when they go out hunting or to stand behind him during conflict around the village. spider doesn't need tsu'tey to praise him, the look in his eyes is more than enough (though he always does), he doesn't need to ask his dad for a hug, he just knows, he doesn't need to tell him which way to go when he's tracking, they just read each other's bodies and went with the flow. that's truly what makes them so odd to be around, the perfect ebb and flow of either person, especially one na'vi and one human.

their lack of need to communicate basic things, leaves room for all sorts of conversation. stories, philosophy, songs, random info dumping from spider, lessons from tsu'tey. they love to debate the meaning of eywa's stories, the intention she has for the people, the state of the village and its leaders. not only are they warriors, but they are shit talkers, ex-olo'eyktan and ex-'son' of the now-chief, its a potent mix. spider picks up tsu'tey's love/hate relationship with just about everything that has to do with the village; he loves its dearly, would die for it, for jake and neytiri and the kids, but their is this shield of animosity, of deserved distaste, if only ever so mild. he has his qualms, but they never outweigh the love in his heart. in short, they are both a massive pain in the ass for jake, always yelling at him or critiquing how he does things, generally just being annoying. (jake needs them to go on a hunting trip or something, cause the level of criticism he gets is ridiculous, and he needs a break)

spider is still friends with the sully kids, but he is much more deeply ingrained in the village, as the unofficial son of the unofficial right-hand man of the chief. kiri is still his person, lo'ak is still his best friend, tuk is his partner in crime and unofficial little sister, neteyam is still like an older brother figure watching over him when he is with the sully kids. but spider is friends with most of the village kids, particularly tarsem, tsu'tey's younger brother.

the two grew up next to one another, tsu'tey introduced them shortly after spider wormed his way into the older mans heart, as he needed someone to tire the little one out when he couldn't keep. tarsem took to the little thing quickly, dubbing him his little brother, that is until he saw how tsu'tey looked at the boy with pride, then he started calling him his nephew.

within a year or two of taking spider under his wing he started taking the kid up to the lab himself, instead of meeting the scientist halfway. he would tuck the kid in, tell him stories, make sure he was soundly asleep and even then he would sit and watch, running big blue fingers through his whispy blonde hair, finding a smile on his face when the kid latches to his hand. norm has had to make sure he's wearing his mask on more than one occasion because the warrior has fallen asleep with the boy curled up in his side. he basically takes up all care of the boy, managing his curfew, meals, training, most of his education, and whatever else norm and max squabble to him about. its not hard, spider eats anything you put in front of him, takes pride in his lessons and training (cause who wouldn't want to be trained by tsu'tey, he holds it above all his friends heads), he loves when just about anyone messes with his hair, and overall he just likes being with his dad, so he never has much of an argument to anything he says. so spider is almost completely independent from the other humans at hellsgate or even the sully family.

spider is still blessed (by eywa, basically, pandora snow white), child of eywa (she nags him, like a mom, constantly), and hella fucking strong (cause boys gotta keep up). so tsu'tey is always caught marveling at the boy; watching him pull back a bow the size of himself, watching him romp and play with the most ferocious of creatures, have close-knit bonds with the giants of the forest, so divinely connected to eywa, speaking of her as if she was truly his mother, connecting to her in ways he had never seen before. spider was his special boy through and through, and he thanked eywa for him each and every day; that boy is the reason he lived, the reason he kept waking up each day, the reason he smiled again, the reason he continued in believing in the goodwill of the Great Mother again.

spider worries for tsu'tey a lot, despite how strong he is, he's still forever scarred by the injuries he sustained in battle. his dad is almost always in some amount of pain, his lungs are forever weak, his ability to bond and connect with his pali and ikran greatly diminished by the pain and fog that plagued him. the first few years, especially before he started to truly take care of himself, he would often collapse, coughing up blood, as his body protested being pushed past its limit. even as tsu'tey accepted his limits, doing his best to stay in good shape for spider's well-being, he still worried. he always tries to support his dad, taking up lots of village chores and insisting on cutting back on hunts or training when he's having a bad day, making up poor excuses when tsu'tey asks why. as he got older he accepted that this was just how life was going to be for his dad, how it would most likely not get any better, but as a young child he softened feared he was going to lose him. he would sleep with his ear to his dads chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart, assuring himself he was still there. he would beg him through tears not to leave him too, making tsu'tey's heart ache. now that he's older he is far less worried about him dying, much more worried about losing him to his own mind, again. tsu'tey isn't unaware of his child worry, but no matter how hard he tries, what he says or does, spider won't let him lift that burden from his shoulders. they're both stubborn, sometimes he loves that about his boys, and other times it's quite the opposite.

when tsu'tey is having a bad night, particularly with his lungs, spider will drag him up to hells gate, so he's forced to use his respirator, and have movie nights with him. its just an excused to pile all the blankets and pillows he can find onto the shitty matress in the media room and sleep in his dads arms, knowing that if anything happens, norm and max are only a shout away. plus, its kinda funny watching tsu'tey get all teary-eyed over earth films.

tsu'tey visits sylwanin a lot, and he always dresses spider as if he is their son, the son they never got to have. once spider finds a way to connect with The Great Mother, through her roots, he visits her as well. spider begins to treat her as his mom and she treats him like her son. they're a little family, even if separated by the veil between life and death.

I can't think of anything else about them, at the moment, but i would totally take asks for this au if anyone wants to know anything else.

[idyllic-affections]

HIII so this might be an odd request,,, mayhaps i ask for kaveh with an older step sibling (since his mom remarried i think).,, i think kaveh would be a little awkward interacting with them at first but they got along in the long run!! esp when they update him about his mom and never really makes him uncomfortable, or always doesn't force a conversation!! he respects his ideals and supports his passion!!

but the main idea was they go to sumeru one day to visit kaveh (they've been informing him thru letters) and accidentally finds out that he's buried under crippling debt and flat out broke!! i think kaveh would feel so ahasmed of himself but!! his older sibling doesn't judge n is very understanding!! helps him with his burdens (if kaveh allows them), maybe recommend his architectural skills to their friends in fontaine!!

idk i just really like the idea of kaveh having an older family member that he could rely on because he really just deserves nice things yk 🥺🥺 even tho they're just step siblings, they feel like true family!!

anyways feel free to ignore this!! have a nice day/night and take ur time!! 💖💖

the blending of two families.

summary. not all step-siblings are like the cruel ones in the fairytales.

trigger & content warnings. references to death and grief. spoilers for kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort, slight angst. kaveh & older step-sibling!reader. 1k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. THIS REQ IS LITERALLY SO CUTE WHATSJSGJF??????? i have Feelings about kaveh's mom and they are NOT good ones but i'll be nice to her for the sake of this piece........ /lh i did this in brainrot format because i wanted SOO badly to get this one done relatively quickly this req invaded my brain like a song that gets stuck in your head

kaveh first meets his older step-sibling at his mother's wedding.

he's... happy for her, he really is. or he's trying to be, at least. she deserves nothing but the best. what kind of son would he be if he wanted her to live her life wallowing in grief and sorrow? she's hardly ever done anything to hurt him, and if she ever did, it was unknowingly. he could neved wish anything bad upon her. she simply does not deserve those things. therefore, he's doing his best to be happy for her.

a part of him, however, still misses his father.

a part of him— well, who is he kidding? the entirety of his being still suffers under the weight of grief and guilt caused by the circumstances surrounding his father's death.

he doesn't even know the man his mother has chosen to marry, really. kaveh absolutely does not feel like she is betraying him or his father whatsoever, but... he does wish that he had gotten to know this man a little bit better before having to trust that he would not wound his mother's scarred heart.

the architect doesn't engage with the other guests much. it's unlike him, really, but he finds that he can't muster up the strength and charisma to talk with people beyond simple pleasantries. he keeps to himself for the most part.

still, he doesn't dare dampen the atmosphere with his woes, so when another person approaches him, he offers his warmest smile.

"sorry, i hope you don't mind me asking..." this stranger smiles politely at him. it puts his mind at ease a little. "is the bride your mother? you look an awful lot like her."

"oh, i—" he stammeers inelegantly, then clears his throat. "yes. i am her son, kaveh."

they smile again.

"hello kaveh. i'm [name], the groom's child."

"oh. oh! i am so sorry, i had no idea!"

"it's alright, really. you mind if i stick around for a while?"

and kaveh finds that he doesn't. he doesn't mind at all.

the architect has been known to be loose-lipped about his troubles; that in and of itself is part of the reason why he spent the night withdrawn from the celebration. he had no intention of being open about his troubles, and yet...

his step-sibling had the sort of face that made him want to rant, and rant he did.

"i can understand that," they mused thoughtfully, kind eyes observing his expression closely. "it's complicated. grief is never easy. i get it."

initially, they were the one lingering around kaveh, but by the end of the night, the tables have certainly turned. he is practically attached at their hip.

he finds that their understanding presence ended up raising his low spirits.

a few days later, kaveh has to return to sumeru—he does have responsibilities, after all—but he's a bit sad about it! they're, of course, there to reassure him that they plan on visiting someday soon. maybe he can show them around? the prospect alone is very thrilling to him, and what's better is that he'll get to show off his magnum opus like an excited toddler showing off a drawing they made! he does warn them that it is very humid and they need to be prepared, though.

until they can visit, kaveh regularly exchanges letters with them. he complains about his terribly annoying roommate and how awful his taste in interior design is. he tells them about random gossip he heard at the tavern. honestly, he just rambles. it's endearing, really, and in return, they tell him about fontaine and maybe sneak in just the smallest bit of gossip about a certain chief justice or even about the hydro archon herself.

(in the future, closer to when the traveler arrives in fontaine, they do not dare tell kaveh about the heightened fatui activity. goodness, the poor thing would worry to death for theirs and his mother's safety.)

when they do finally have the time to come visit...

they arrive by boat in port ormos, and kaveh is there to pick them up!

he's got a lot of things he intends to show them and a lot of people he intends on introducing them to. on the way back to sumeru city, he stops a few times, pointing out some particularly beautiful locations or animals, all of which would have his siblimg absolutely over the moon. sumeru in general would have them enamored.

the air in sumeru is so... clean compared to fontaine, and the fauna and flora—it's completely different than what they've seen.

now, as for [name] finding out about kaveh's crippling debt... i think they would suspect something was off financially for him, simply because of certain mannerisms of his. he's careful with what he spends his mora on. he tries to be, at the very least, and his caution is very evident. or maybe they're just observant? either way, they know something is a bit off.

kaveh leaves them at alhaitham's home for a while.

it's not that they're one to snoop—it's disrespectful and rude to do so, they are very much aware of this—but a letter would catch their eye.

a letter detailing what he still owes to dori.

suddenly, things make sense in their mind.

they don't try to ask his roommate about it. instead, they wait until he's home and alone with them.

"kaveh," they call. "are you in debt?"

his heart sinks a little. so much for hiding it...

"i..." he hesitates, obviously embarrassed, but he does come clean. in their eyes, he looks like a kicked, pouty puppy. "it's... complicated. i mean, you're not wrong..."

"aw, kaveh, don't look like that," they coo, reaching out to gingerly squeeze his shoulder in a gesture of gentle reassurance. "it's nothing to be ashamed about. things happen, kaveh. life happens. i understand if not, but... will you let me help you out? at least a little bit?"

regardless of what he says, whether he admits that he could use the help or insists that they shouldn't have to do that, they do still go around and tell people about their super awesome and talented step-brother! and when kaveh asks in a letter about the suspicious amount of commissions he's getting from fontaine...

nope! they have no idea how those people found out about him. <3

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