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#bun is staring into the void
squeaky-potat · 2 years
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💛🐰💙
Sooooo… this lil brain worm of a drawing 🐛 came from three things :
#1. 2023 being the year of the rabbit 🎆
#2. This fic, where Dimitri talks about wanting a rabbit 🐇
#3. It’s cold AF outside. ❄️
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shirozen · 4 days
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Staring into darkness
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In The Stars.
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masterlist || ask me anything <3
my blurb masterlist is here x
in which, harry is remembering you, his beloved wife, mother of his child, that passed away, this is him grieving, remembering the lives that the two of you shared together and will always share together, no matter the circumstances.
word count - 2.8k
warnings: mentioned of death, mentions of breast cancer.
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April, 2010.
❛ Sunday mornings were your favorite
I used to meet you down on Woods Creek Road
You did your hair up like you were famous
Even though it's only church where we were goin’ ❜
As Harry strolled down Woods Creek Road on a Sunday morning in the summer of 2010, the sun cast a warm glow over the quaint street.
His heart raced with anticipation as he made his way to meet his girlfriend, who awaited him at their usual meeting spot on the corner.
The two of you were meeting up just like the two of you did every Sunday morning before heading to church and meeting up with your families. It was a little ritual that would forever be engraved in your hearts.
You stood there, radiant in a pretty light pink summer dress, your hair elegantly styled up in a bun, giving you an air of effortless grace. Even though you were just headed to church, you always carried yourself as if you were destined for the spotlight.
As Harry approached, he couldn't help but admire how stunning you looked, a sense of pride swelling within him for being the one lucky enough to call you his own. Your eyes met, and a smile lit up your face, sending a rush of warmth through Harry's veins.
"Hey pretty girl," Harry greeted you, his voice filled with affection as he reached out to take your hand in his.
"Hey, H," you replied, your voice soft and filled with love. "You look handsome today."
Harry chuckled, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks at your compliment. "Thanks, pretty. You always look beautiful."
Together, hand in hand, you made your way to church, the sound of birds chirping and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze accompanying your steps.
As the duo walked hand in hand towards the church, he couldn't help but admire her beauty once again.
"You know it's only church that we're going," Harry teased with a playful grin, nudging her gently.
She laughed, a melodic sound that echoed through the quiet street.
"I wore this dress to look good for you," she replied, her eyes sparkling with affection.
Harry's heart swelled with love for her.
"And you always do," he said earnestly, pulling her closer. "Y’could be wearing a paper bag and you'd still look pretty."
She blushed at his words, leaning into him. "You're too sweet, H."
They continued their stroll, their conversation peppered with laughter and affectionate glances,
February, 2024.
❛ Now, Sunday mornings, I just sleep in
It's like I buried my faith with you
I'm screamin' at a God I don't know if I believe in
'Cause I don't know what else I can do ❜
In the dimly lit room, Harry lay tangled in the sheets of what used to be their shared bed. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, blocking out the world beyond, as if he hadn't felt the warmth of the sun in ages.
His once vibrant eyes were hollow, filled with a pain that seemed to consume him.
Sunday mornings had lost their luster, their meaning stripped away along with the love he had lost. He no longer had the will to rise from bed, to face a world that felt empty and devoid of purpose without her by his side.
Staring at the photo of a toddler on his bedside table, being held by his darling wife was a painful reminder of what once was, whilst the toddler slept in there room next door, you were no where to be found.
Harry felt a wave of anguish wash over him. He had buried his faith along with her, his heart screaming out to a God he no longer knew if he believed in.
Tears welled up in his eyes, his chest constricting with the weight of his sorrow. He longed for her presence, for the warmth of her touch, but she was gone, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill.
In the silence of the room, Harry found himself grappling with a pain so profound, he didn't know what else to do but scream into the void, hoping for some semblance of solace in a world that had turned its back on him.
Harry felt a wave of anguish wash over him. With trembling hands, he reached out and grabbed the photo of his wife, holding it close to his chest as tears streamed down his face.
"Why did y’take her?" he screamed into the empty room, his voice cracking with pain. "It should ‘ave been me!"
His cries echoed off the walls, a raw expression of the agony that consumed him. He clutched the photo tightly, as if holding onto it could somehow bring her back to him, could somehow ease the unbearable pain of her absence.
But she was gone, and Harry was left alone in a world that seemed intent on tearing him apart.
January, 2024.
❛ I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone
I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever ❜
"H," you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper, "I want to see her grow up. I want to see her graduate, get married, have children of her own."
You were referring to your and harrys freshly turned two year old daughter Grace Anne Styles, she was everything to the two of you, with her fathers curly hair and signature green eyes, her personality was all you, kind, caring and nurturing.
The sterile scent of the hospital mingled with the faint whir of machines monitoring your vital signs, creating an atmosphere heavy with uncertainty.
Six months ago, when you were diagnosed with breast cancer, Harry had clung to hope like a lifeline, determined to fight alongside you every step of the way. But as each day passed, that hope dwindled, replaced by a gnawing fear of what the future held.
You lay in the bed, your once vibrant spirit now dimmed by the relentless assault of the disease. Cancer had robbed you of your strength, leaving you fragile and frail. Your hair, once a cascade of curls that framed your face with warmth, had been replaced by a bald scalp, a stark reminder of the battle you fought with every breath.
Even your wedding rings, symbols of the love you and Harry shared, no longer fit your slender fingers, so he wore them on a chain around his neck, keeping them close to his heart.
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he reached out to take your hand in his.
"You will, pretty girl," he said softly, his voice filled with determination. "Y’going to get better, I know it."
But deep down, Harry couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his chest, the fear that he might lose you before you had the chance to see your dreams fulfilled.
So, as you drifted off to sleep, he sat by your bedside, his heart heavy with the weight of impending loss.
"I don't want to say goodbye," he whispered into the darkness, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because this one means forever."
He brushed a tear from his cheek as he watched over you, vowing to cherish every precious moment they had left together, unwilling to let go of the love that had defined their lives.
April, 2024.
❛ And now you're in the stars and six-feet's never felt so far
Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers❜
As Harry sat in the garden with Grace nestled in his lap, the night enveloped them in its quiet embrace. The stars twinkled overhead, their distant light casting a soft glow over the garden, while the faint crackle of embers from the nearby fire pit added to the ambiance. But despite the beauty of the night, Harry couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of loneliness that washed over him.
All day little Grace had asked about seeing mummy so who was harry to deny her of that?
"Look, Daddy! Look at all the stars!" Grace exclaimed, her small finger pointing up at the shimmering sky.
Harry forced a smile, his heart heavy with the weight of your absence.
"They're beautiful, aren't they, sweet girl?" he replied, his voice tinged with sadness.
"Yeah, but I still can't see Mommy," Grace said, her voice filled with longing. "When is she coming?"
“I’m not sure sweet girl,” Harry's heart shattered at her words, the pain of your loss echoing in his chest.
"I know you miss her, sweet girl," he said softly, pulling her closer. "I miss her too, but she’s always going to be up there isn’t she? up in the stars watching over me and you.”
"I want to see her," Grace insisted, her bottom lip trembling.
Harry's eyes welled up with tears as he looked down at his daughter, her innocent face filled with confusion and sorrow.
"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "I wish I could bring her back for you."
"Why can't you, Daddy?" Grace asked, her voice tinged with frustration.
Harry's heart clenched at her words, the weight of his grief pressing down on him like a lead weight.
"Because she's in the stars now, sweetheart," he explained gently, his voice trembling.
Grace's eyes filled with tears as she buried her face in Harry's chest, her small body shaking with sobs.
"I want Mommy," she cried, her voice muffled against his shirt.
Harry held her tightly, his own tears mingling with hers as he struggled to find the words to comfort her.
"I know, sweet girl," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I want mommy too."
February, 2024.
❛ Oh, it hurts so hard
For a million different reasons
You took the best of my heart
And left the rest in pieces ❜
As Harry sat in front of the photo of the two of you on your wedding day, the memories came flooding back like a tidal wave crashing over him.
The room felt empty, the silence deafening, as he clutched the half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. With Grace sleeping at his mom's house for the night, he was left alone with his thoughts, the weight of your absence pressing down on him like a ton of bricks.
"Oh, it hurts so hard," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, as if afraid to disturb the stillness of the room.
He traced the outline of your face in the photo, his fingertips lingering on the curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes. The love they shared had been pure and unconditional, a bond that seemed unbreakable. But now, with you gone, Harry felt like a ship lost at sea, adrift in a vast ocean of loneliness and despair.
"You took the best of my heart," he murmured, his voice thick with tears,
And he didn’t want to admit that the rest was left in puzzle pieces.
Tears streamed down his face as he poured himself another glass of wine, the bitter taste doing little to dull the ache in his heart. He felt like he was suffocating, drowning in a sea of memories that threatened to swallow him whole.
"Why did y’have to go?" Harry whispered, his voice filled with anguish as he stared at the photo, as if willing it to provide him with answers. "We were supposed to grow old together, to watch Grace grow up, to share a lifetime of memories."
But the photo remained silent, a frozen moment in time that offered no solace, no comfort in the face of his pain. And as Harry sat alone in the darkness, he realized that no amount of wine could dull the ache of your absence, no words could bring you back to him.
"I miss you, pretty girl," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "More than words can say."
June, 2024.
❛ Diggin' through your old birthday letters
A crumpled 20 still in the box
I don't think that I could ever find a way to spend it
Even if it's the last 20 that I've got, oh ❜
the weight of your absence felt heavier than ever. Today was Grace's third birthday, a day meant to be filled with joy and celebration, but instead, it served as a painful reminder of the life you should have been there to share.
With trembling hands, Harry sifted through the stack of cards, each one a precious memento of the love you poured into every aspect of your daughter's life. He ran his fingers over the familiar handwriting, his heart breaking with each heartfelt message penned by your hand.
But then, something caught his eye at the bottom of the box—a crumpled £20 note. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he unfolded the worn bill, his fingers trembling as he realized its significance. It was the last £20 that you had given him, tucked away as a surprise in one of Grace's birthday cards.
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he stared at the crumpled note, his heart aching with the weight of your absence. He had never been able to bring himself to spend it, holding onto it like a lifeline to the memories of the life they had shared together.
"Mommy got y’something special," Harry said softly, his voice thick with emotion, as he called Grace into the room. "This card is from her."
Grace's eyes widened with excitement as she took the card from Harry's outstretched hand, her fingers tracing the familiar handwriting.
"From Mommy?" she asked, her voice filled with wonder as Harry also handed her the crumpled £20.
"What are you going to spend the money on, sweet girl?" Harry asked gently, his voice tinged with sadness as he looked into his daughter's innocent eyes.
Grace's brows furrowed slightly as she considered her father's question. After a moment of thoughtful silence, she looked up at Harry with a determined expression.
"M’going to buy some happiness," she replied softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "So that you can be happy, Daddy."
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at his daughter, her words piercing through the veil of his grief like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached out to pull Grace into a tight embrace.
"Oh, sweet girl," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Y’already make me happier than I ever thought possible."
February, 2025.
❛ I'm still holdin' on to everything that's dead and gone
I don't wanna say goodbye, 'cause this one means forever
And now you're in the stars and six-feet's never felt so far
Here I am alone between the heavens and the embers ❜
The anniversary of your death was a cruel reminder of the void that now existed in his life, a void that could never be filled. He set down the bouquet of flowers he had brought, their vibrant colors stark against the somber backdrop of the cemetery.
"M’still holding on to everything that's dead and gone," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a hoarse whisper, as if afraid to disturb the silence of the graveyard.
Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he sat down beside your grave, the cold earth beneath him a painful reminder of the finality of death. He traced the letters of your name etched into the headstone, his fingers trembling with grief.
"And now you're in the stars, and six-feet's never felt so far," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Y’should be here, by m’side and we should be living life like we were supposed to be doing, I shouldn’t be visiting your gave, s’too unfair."
"I brought you y’favorite flowers," he said softly, his voice choked with emotion. "I hope you like them."
He paused, as if waiting for a response that would never come. The silence of the cemetery enveloped him like a shroud, amplifying the ache in his heart.
"I wish you were here," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish we could have just one more day together."
Tears streamed down Harry's face as he poured out his heart to you, his words a mix of sorrow and longing.
"Grace is growing up so fast," he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "She's so much like you, y’know? Sometimes it feels like you're still here, watching over us."
He reached out to touch the cold marble of your headstone, his fingers tracing the letters of your name.
"I miss you every day," he confessed, his voice breaking with grief. "I don't know how to live without you."
As Harry spoke, memories flooded his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had shared.
"Do y’remember our first date?" he asked softly, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I was so nervous, but you made me feel like everything was going to be okay."
He wiped away his tears, his heart heavy with the weight of your absence.
"I wish I could turn back time," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I wish I could tell y’how much I love you one more time."
And then, with a heavy heart, Harry pressed a kiss to your grave, his lips lingering on the cold stone as if seeking solace in its unforgiving surface.
"Goodbye, pretty girl," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the wind.
“Until we meet again.”
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1989butcher · 10 months
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Apple Pie
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dean winchester x reader
you try all day to bake a pie for dean
wc: 1.3k, complete and utter fluff
Wiping the sweat from your brow, you slid another pie crust into the oven. After shutting the oven door with your elbow, you turned to find Cas in the doorway. “Please, don’t make me try any more. I cannot taste it, Y/N.” you half-laugh and sigh. “I’m sorry. Honestly, if this one doesn’t turn out good, I am just going to toss everything and pretend it never happened.” Castiel looked at you, a confused look plastered on his face.
“Why would you throw it all away?” He asks, making his way towards the counter, his eyes going over the mess of cooking ingredients and cookware all over the place. His eyes make his way to you, your apron covered in flour, hair all tousled and falling out of the bun it was put in hours ago. You had clearly exerted loads of effort.
You begin to run the sink, bringing over some spoons and dishes that were covered in various flavors. “I don’t know, it’s embarrassing I guess. Like, how am I unable to bake a pie?” Cas almost cuts you off, “You’ve baked five pies, I think.” You shake your head, turning to him.
“I’ve tried to bake about five pies. And not one of them was good enough. I’m not asking for your pity, I’m just, saying I guess.” you reply wryly. He shrugs, now assisting you with cleaning the dishes. The two of you cleaned in silence, since he wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even wanted to be comforted. 
He eventually excused himself to the war room to continue a case he had been working on, leaving you to stare at the pie, watching it slowly bake in the oven. You had placed a chair in front of the oven, just staring into the void, basking in your embarrassment and failure. Then, you began beating yourself up for being upset over not being able to bake. It was a vicious cycle.
Only to be broken by a warm laugh. “Now, now, now, what do we have here!” Dean exclaimed. He just about floated down the stairs and into the kitchen. Although those first few pies didn’t exactly taste good, they still smelled it. You blinked hard and turned around to see him. His hair is a bit flat, wearing a worn green flannel with a pair of blue jeans. But the largest smile was plastered across his face.
Dean’s arms were outstretched for you to fall into, pulling you into a deep hug. His hand instinctively went to the back of your head to cradle, kissing your forehead as you hummed. He breathed in your hair, to find it speckled with flour and something sticky. But you smelled good.
You smelled like pie.
He licked his lips and pulled you out of the hug, you whining a bit in retort. You look up to him with your doe eyes, his weakness. Dean gave a smug smile before pulling you in for a quick kiss. Your lips tasted of apple with a hint of cinnamon, making his heart soar. 
Dean pulled back from the kiss, his hands on your shoulders. He gave them a slight squeeze, trying to come up with something clever to say. “Oh, please, Winchester. I know exactly what you’re thinking.” 
He shook his head, laughing a bit and sliding his hands down your arms. The warm taste of apple from your lips still lingered. “You gonna tell me about this?” He nods his head to the rest of the room. The sink was filled with dishes, although cleaned. But the counter was still covered in crusts and apples, and tons of flour. 
You felt your cheeks flushed red and your gaze hit the floor and his boots. You shook your head, laughing a bit. “No way.” your voice is light, trying to hide your frustration. The last thing you wanted was for him to walk in the door to this mess, not even knowing if what you were attempting to make was good enough.
Dean’s smile dropped a bit, his finger lifting your chin to meet his gaze again. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s not like you burned the place down.” his joke struck a nerve with you. He was an excellent cook, and all you wanted to do was repay the favor. He takes your hand as you walk over to the counter, covered in the mess.
“Ta da!” You exclaim sarcastically. Dean doesn’t look away from you, knowing you are seconds away from spilling out your guts. “Y/N-” he starts. “I’ve tried all day to bake one pie. One god damn pie. I have gone to the store twice today Dean. Twice! Are you aware we live in a small town? There’s like a couple hundred people so when you go to the store twice and buy the same things, the cashier is going to notice. Even better that it was the same person.
You would think as an adult, I would be able to bake a single apple pie for my boyfriend. But no. I can make rock hard crust,” you pick up and toss one of the burnt crusts on the counter down. “And mediocre filling. I honestly don’t think there’s enough apples in the world for me to be able to get this recipe right.”
As your rant continued, Dean looked at you with nothing but love. He had no idea he could feel this way. He loved you for trying so hard. You didn’t have to bake a pie. Honestly, you still have a pulse and wanting to be within 10 feet of him was enough. As you went on about your day and all your baking attempts, it made him realize how much you loved him. 
And the word boyfriend rang through his ears. The two of you never defined anything. Sleeping together for years, living together, you had even convinced him to go on a weekend trip for fun once. But to his face, you had never called him your boyfriend. All those nights spent in each other’s arms, yet afraid to label anything to make the other run away. 
But there you stood, what you would call a complete mess but he thinks you are prettiest this way. 
Whatever you were saying at this point, something about the oven being your enemy, was in one ear and out the other. Dean pulled you in for a deep kiss, both hands on either side of your face, stopping you mid-sentence.
“I love you.” he said, breaking the kiss. You pulled back just enough to look into his green eyes, that somehow had a little more sparkle to them since you saw him this morning. “I love you, too.” you smiled, rubbing your thumb on his cheek. Staring into each other’s eyes, the words “my girl” slipped Dean’s lips. Heat rose in your chest as you pulled him in again, this time his tongue slipping in your mouth.
Right on time, the oven dings. The pie is done, and so is the moment. You slide out of his grasp and sigh. “Don’t get your hopes too high.” He watched you take the pie out, some apple oozing from the crust. The smell alone sent him over the edge.
“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for me.” he said quietly, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear. You raise an eyebrow. “Dean, I’ve pretty much died for you, yet this is something you can’t believe.”
It was the mundaneness of it all. The normalcy. He felt there was no room in his life for it. That he didn’t deserve it no matter how badly he longed for it. He shrugged it off, not quite ready to dive into that. But more ready to dive into what laid in front of him.
“This one actually looks edible!” you sigh in relief, inspecting the pie closer. Dean scoots behind you, placing his hands on your hips.
“I’ll tell you what else looks edible.”
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theaquamarinearchives · 5 months
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[ fake it til you make it ― childe ] "'cause i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit. they said, "babe, you gotta fake it til you make it" and i did." cw. gn!reader, angst, hurt/no comfort, idol!au, refers to him as ajax for most of the fic, petname (darling), light swearing, toxic workplace, reference to drowning, mentions an unhealthy relationship, post break-up, bottled up emotions (get some help), use of y/n, not proofread
aquamarine's findings. first work on a new blog & also the first of many ttpd songfics... this was way longer in my head, i struggled to put it into words… // i can do it with a broken heart, taylor swift.
since that god forsaken day, life had began to feel like tidal waves, far out at sea. rough, tormenting and pulling your body further and further under with each lap of foaming white waves until you were lost in the riptides, suffocating as water fills your lungs. no matter how much you held your breath every time you were pushed under again, you were beginning to tire; cold, shivering, limp. yet you would continue to hold your breath, bracing yourself for impact. the sky darkens and there's another wave approaching you, ready to shove you below the surface. your eyelashes flutter, accepting it - maybe this is where peace hit you, finally.
"y/n?"
your eyes snap open, quick to squint at the harsh white light of the room that welcomed you back to reality. oh, yeah. you were taking a bath after your schedule for the day, your limbs aching from the hours of practise and rehearsals you'd endured. slowly turning your head towards the bathroom door, you settle back into the world - what was left of it for you. it wasn't much, hollow and void of his presence as your eyes catch the bottle of his shower gel on the side of the tub that you simply couldn't bring yourself to get rid of. after all, it was evidence that the whole affair wasn't a figment of your imagination or some publicity stunt despite the fact you were definitely beginning to question if it was the latter in the end.
"yeah, sorry," you call out, barely above a mumble as you shuffle to sit up from the miniature waves of bath water that was licking at your cheeks like a cat. the sound of the water is all that fills the silence as it trickles and splashes around you, "i think i zoned out."
"you think?" the shrill voice of your manager retorts and you can almost picture her on the other side of the door, her bony hands on her hips hugged by a pencil skirt - she must own millions, - and tight up-do of a bun she keeps greying hair in daily, "y/n you've been in there two hours."
you bite back the urge to let the words 'is that all?' escape your chapped lips, choosing to wet at them with your tongue instead as you finally move stiff limbs to raise out of the bath, pulling the plug and wrapping the soft cotton towel around your shivering body. shivering like you're still keeping your head above water, barely able to breathe. tired eyes land on the sight of your reflection in the bathroom's vanity mirror, the dullness of your eyes standing out more than anything when you realise you'd long lost the sparkle in them when ajax had called off the relationship.
the longer you stare, the longer the person in the mirror doesn't seem like you; not the you you've always known nor the you you've built for the public eye, for the job you buried your youth in. you were an idol, claimed by the critics to be "born for the spotlight" but in reality, it couldn't make you any less than anxious than it already did. all those eyes on you, their whispers and their stares when your life - your business - becomes the hot topic of their dinner conversations, perhaps gossip over coffees and pastries.
at the end of the day, you were nothing but a person on the stage, the screen to them and the world would still keep on revolving.
it was a brief relationship but it meant the world to you. indulging yourself in an affair regarding fellow industry colleague ajax wasn't your brightest move but as the months mellowed out, summer's green grass turning into autumn's golden leaves, it turned into something you didn't regret. the word 'regret' feels bitter on your tongue now despite you still not regretting it but maybe, just maybe, you could have saved your fragile heart in advance. in the end, you learnt that when he said he'd 'love you with all his life,' it was a life cut too short.
ajax - commonly known to the public as 'childe' - was a rapper for an idol group from snezhnaya, one that particularly blew up on social media right now in a popularity burst across teyvat. you'd have few interactions here and there before the two of you reached out to each other on instagram - you learnt that you should have just ignored that dm request.
when you blink, you're back at his side backstage to one of his performances. he's mic'd up, stiff gel in those ginger locks and his freckles so rudely covered by a thin layer of foundation. there's a grin on his face as those icy blue eyes look down at you while a make-up artist brushes the faintest of lip tint onto those plush lips. there's no chance you're stealing a kiss now unless you want to be scolded by his staff team.
"lost in your thoughts again, darling?" he chirps teasingly, nudging you with his elbow. a weak smile filters onto your face as you nervously glance around the dressing room. was this really what you wanted in life? ajax's arm ropes around your waist, his grip tight as he has no intentions to let you go.
and he doesn't, at least he didn't have that intention at the time. every time his eyes landed on you, he saw something fragile, a porcelain dish held together by the kintsugi that was your job as an idol. something he could mould and he knew he could, he was determined. how was he so sure he could? because you'd do anything for survival, even if it means battering your happiness with a baseball bat.
that's exactly what ajax had done with you; moulded you, shaped you and made you co-dependent on him. it had only been a few mere months but you really couldn't live without him, even if it was damaging your job and reputation. he twined you in his fingers like putty, lacing you in and out of every knuckle as he held on tight to you - and then just as the high was starting to fade, he dropped you, shattering you on the ground in a heartbeat.
when you blink, you're staring at yourself in the mirror of your own dressing room and the echo of shattered fine china rings in your ears until your gaze slowly drifts to the staff member by the door, her shaking hands holding an empty tray and her panicked gaze on the broken plate on the ground. there's a furious expression on your manager's face and you brace for the impact that comes but there's nothing, not a word.
instead, the room returns to normality. faces blur as they scurry about and you furrow your brows, looking back at your reflection so that the stylist can continue to work with your hair - you know you're going to hate what he does regardless. your manager's heavy footsteps stop to your left, her arms folded across her chest as her hawk eyes narrow at your reflection. you imagine she's scrutinising every detail of your body and that only makes your heart beat faster.
"you need to move on from that rapper, y/n," she states bluntly after a few moments silence. your breath hitches in your throat, eyes refusing to look up and meet that piercing gaze, "it's affecting your work and the media are catching on."
"i know," you mumble shamefully, unable to find the words to fight back against her. your heart aches for him, wanting to fill the void he's left and to grasp why he did what he had. it wasn't something you'd ever just 'move on' from, "i'm sorry, i'll work on it."
"it doesn't need 'working' on, it needs to happen right fucking now. do you want to cancel this tour early?" her tone is bitter and there's finally a sting in your eyes despite not wanting to ruin your make-up artist's hard work, clearing your throat in a fragile response to her words, "you've got to start faking it. he's only going to hinder your progress if you don't."
"no, i don't. i'll move on, i promise."
lights blind you; the flashing of cameras and phones alike paired with the stage lights and accompanied by the cacophony of screams that come from your fans. a wide grin covers your face, eyes twinkling as you start the first song of your tour's setlist, holding a microphone in your shaking hand. perform, you tell yourself mentally. perform and they'll never be able to read what's going on in your head, they'd never understand if they got a glimpse into your world.
as the crowds scream for more, unharmoniously belting the lyrics along with you, you're glad that they don't notice how ajax has been avoiding you like the plague for weeks, negligent to the way that you are still utterly obsessed and infatuated with him. they don't notice from afar how crystalline tears decorate your eyes while you perform, centre of the stage and under the watchful eyes of the whole world, ready to criticise you if you break.
you're tough, the voice in your mind tells you with a slight waiver in its words as if it doesn't believe itself, you can handle your shit.
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dirtytransmasc · 5 months
Text
Modern Aocorro high school au: what if Spider was a harpist in his high school orchestra and Ao'nung was down bad about it.
Spider was already your classic high school heart throb. He was popular, buff, handsome, a little rough around the edges, yet still a total sweetheart.
For Eywa's sake, he carpooled his siblings to school or rode his skateboard to school, volunteered around town 24/7, used reusable straws, he'd hand his pocket change to anyone in need, and was known for getting into fights with bullies in the parking lot.
Not to mention that he had the prettiest golden curls and brown eyes anyone had ever seen (at least in Ao'nung's opinion).
So to say Ao'nung was crushing, hard, was probably the understatement of the century, and could you even blame him? The guy was perfect, an angel, and it was driving him insane.
He'd catch himself staring during gym practice, marveling at his muscles, cheeks flushing, or in the locker room when he took his shirt off to change, his heart pounding away in his chest.
he thought he couldn't be even more down bad for that boy than he already was, his confident personality rendered null and void when he was around, his tongue caught in the back of his throat, unable to do so much as squeak at him… until the day he caught him in the orchestra room, practicing.
Now, he had heard Spider was in orchestra and had even seen him rolling around some large black case around the school before, but he'd never actually caught what he played.
But walking past that half-opened door was how he found out the love of his life wasn't only a sweet handsome hunk of a guy, but he played the harp, the instrument of an angel.
The sheer audacity of this boy was getting out of hand, he swore to Eywa, he was gonna kill him one of these days with his impossibly hot antics.
He stands and watches as Spider presses up against his harp, eyes focused on his sheet music, hair tied up in a messy bun but a single golden curl hangs he keeps blowing out of his face, and his fingers strum along the strings, working the muscles throughout his hands and arms.
The sound of gentle music flowed from the gap in the door, and it sounded just as pretty as Spider looked, soft and sweet, but still robust, still full of base and bravado. It was so fitting.
Watching Spider's face quirk with focus and frustration and pride as he worked through the song made the other's heart swoon, he swore it must be palpating or maybe skipping beats. He just knows it wasn't beating right, especially as he rubs his hand over his chest and feels how heavy it beats against his ribs.
And thats when Spider just so happens to turn to see who was gawking at him from the hallway, and instead of telling him to stop staring or throwing a pissed-off glance like Ao'nung is sure most other's would do if they caught someone staring like he had been, Spider just smiled.
"Like what you hear?" he quipped, leaning forward to turn the page of his music binder.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, you're... amazing," he choked out an answer, coughing into his fist to try and cover up the stammer in his voice and the blush on his cheeks.
"You flatter me," he replied, sitting back and looking Ao'nung right in the eye before he looked away with an even brighter smile, and it was like his skin was set on fire by just that single glance. "Are you gonna come in or are you gonna keep standing out their like some weirdo?"
"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to bother, I was j-just passing by,"
"It's free period, it's why I'm in here all by my lonesome," he puts on a fake pout and bats his lashes in his direction for show, "keep my company yeah? I'm sure you've got nothing to do if you've already spent so much time staring."
He moved his bag off the chair next to him before patting it.
"Sit," his tone was warm and inviting and his eyes were soft and almost pleading, so he did, with a deep breath, he sat next to the other boy.
He managed to be even prettier up close, and Ao'nung had to tear his eyes away so he didn't make a fool of himself. He decided to turn his attention to the harp. It was beautiful, made of a soft, warm-toned wood, intricately carved and painted with the image of flowers he couldn't name off the top of his head.
"She's a beauty isn't she?" Spider asked
he only nodded at first, before feeling the urge to touch, his hand moving before he could think better of it, but he managed to stop himself before he made contact with he wood.
"Can I?" he asked, quite pitifully, finally making his own eye contact with the blonde. Eywa save him, he was too pretty, it was unfair. He felt butterflies tickling his stomach and his head getting fuzzy. Why didn't he run when he had the chance?
"Go ahead," he answered with a huff of laughter.
He tried to steady himself as he stroked a hand down the curved wood that he saw resting against Spider's chest earlier when he was playing, feeling the warmth from the other boy's skin still clinging to the wood.
His fingers sought out the strings Spider's rested on moments ago, the metal threading bit into his flesh ever so slightly when he ran his fingers down them.
"I catch you staring all the time y'know, you're not very good at hiding it."
Ao'nung feels his heart drop through the floor and into the stone-cold basement beneath them. Fuck. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad, Spider must think he's a freak-
"It's cute."
"What?" he didn't mean to ask that out loud, but when he did, he said it far too loud.
Spider just laughs at him, gently and without malice, his eyes crinkling into almost nothing, his cheeks going a little red, his nose scrunching a little. Ao'nung feels his heart swell.
"Oh, it's never subtle, especially since you turn bright red, and the second you realize I'm looking back, you turn tail and run away like you have the devil on your heels," he pauses to wipe the tears from his eyes, "It's just cute, adorable even. I kinda like having a not so secret admirer."
"You don't think I'm some total freak?"
"Nah dude.... who's to say I'm not staring back?" he said nonchalantly.
Ao'nung was sure his brain was melting, cause he just found out his crush might like him back? Potentially. And that was just simply mind-boggling, cause, he wasn't gonna sell himself short, but he never thought he could be on Spider's radar.
They hung out with different people, and he used to be an ass to his siblings before he transferred to be here, and sure he apologized and made up with them, he always seemed to hold a bit of a grudge.
"You are?" he had to ask.
"Mmmmmm, maybe a little," he replied with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I will admit, at first it was because I was trying to make sure you weren't being an ass, but, things might be changing."
Ao'nung nodded to himself, clearing his throat, trying to decipher what that could even mean. Was Spider saying he was starting to like him too? did he have a shot with him?
"Listen, the bells about to ring, so why don't I give you this," he pulled a pen from the spine of his binder, tearing the corner off of one of his sheet music, which felt oddly intimate, and wrote something down on it, before handing it to him.
It was his number. Spider just gave him his number.
"Text me? we can start gettign to actually know each other, and maybe you could start joining me in here during free period, I could give you some lessons on the harp if you'd like?" now Spider sounded a little sheepish.
Which somehow made Ao'nung feel a bit more confident, so for the first time in seemingly forever, he answered Spider with some level of confidence.
"Yeah, I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."
"Good, good, I'd like that too."
They were both smiling now. The bell rang. They both hesitated to break eye contact.
"I'll text you, promise." Eywa, he was making promises. Already. He really was a hopeless sap. But it felt right when Spider huffed a laugh at it, a hand coming up to cover his smile a little. He was flattered.
"You better, stalker," Spider laughed, finally starting to pack up his stuff.
"Rude," he faked a gasped, lingering in the door, knowing he had to get to class, and he needed to let Spider pack up so he wouldn't be late himself, but wanting to let the moment last just a little longer.
"I think staring is rude, but I think I'll give you a pass, so long as you stop running away when I catch you, deal?"
"Deal."
"And you have to meet me here tomorrow."
"I will, it's a date," the words slipped out of his mouth without thinking about how it could be interpreted, "oh, not like-"
"It's a date" Spider repeated.
Ao'nung found he could only nod. It's a date. Even if it wasn't like that, it was still nice to think about. a date with an angel.
"Now go, before you're late, wouldn't want you to get in any trouble." Spider crossed his arms and jutted out his hip like he was some disappointed mom or something.
"Right, bye Spider."
He waved goodbye. It was corny and childish, but he waved. Spider waved back. He had his number clutched tightly in his other palm. Spider had his phone clutched in his hands as if he couldn't wait for the message to come any longer.
"Bye Stalker."
He has a feeling he's gonna have to get used to that nickname, but as he rounds the corner, his chest still feeling warm and full of butterflies, he doesn't think he minds all that much.
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world-of-aus · 1 year
Text
Safe With Me - II
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Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky x MobDaughter!Reader
Warnings: Angst. Feels.
Author's Note: I am so sorry that this has taken me so long to get out! But here we are installment II of Safe With Me. I am looking at two more parts total for this small series. I hope you all enjoy this piece, happy reading Buns!
The tension was overwhelming, the silence deafening as you and your father stare one another down. Bucky stands frozen at the door, face void of any emotion as he awaits further instruction from your father. There’s an ache sat in your chest from the night before that he was here for him, his job, and not you. 
“Are you going to say anything?” you almost dare the gray-haired man before you. 
Bucky watches as your father shakes his head, his frown glowering further, “what would you like me to say,” he snips eyes burrowing further into yours. “Rumlows out of your life a year now yet you still allow the bastard to dictate it, still allow him to play you like some pawn!”  
“You’re one to talk, he plays you all the same.”  
Bucky catches the moment your body jolts in fear at your old mans fist meeting the desk “Watch your mouth daughter, you are my blood, you are my next in line, this,” he gestures to the office, “is to be yours, do not let him take this from you!” 
“He’s not taking anything from me because I don’t want to be the next in line!” 
Your words have stunned your father into silence, pain and betrayal pulling at his features. “What did you say?” 
The scoff slips past your lips “you’ve never been one to hear me. I said I don’t want this, I’ve never wanted this, you and Nico have decided my fate time and time again, I have had no say, have had no voice!” 
“Don’t you dare!” he hisses chubby wrinkled finger pointed at you at the mention of your late brother.” 
“Be real for once father,” you argue back, “I was never your first option, I’ve probably never been, but you were left with no choice, you dealt your own cards!” 
The second the chair flies into the wall as you father stands in fury Bucky is behind you his hand resting on your shoulder. An anchor of comfort. “How dare you,” your father hisses, “I am your father y/n and you will respect me as such!” 
You’re defiant now that Bucky is there to ground you, “why should I, did you respect the wishes of Nico, my wishes? This life got him killed, and you’re resigning me to the same fate. If it wasn’t for begging, no pleading you to see what Rumlow was doing to me I would have met the same fate! I begged you for a year, a year father, and no number of bruises laid upon me could get you to see, to hear me. It wasn’t till Bucky found me that night, the night you miraculously seemed to think of me that you finally saw me.” 
Bucky visibly tenses at the mention of that night, his jaw locks, and the hand that isn’t rested against your skin clenches into a fist at his side. Rumlow had every intention of ending your life that night, and had he not arrived when he did, he doesn’t even want to imagine. It was almost like fate that he got to you just in time, he had been your only hope at escaping the grasp of death.  
Some nights he can still recall your weakened grip, your barely there pained cries as he all but pleaded with you to hold on for him. Those nights he holds your hand a little tighter, brings you closer to make sure you’re still there, that you’re safe. Safe with him. 
“Rumlows moved on y/n, he has a wife, a child on the way, he’s just trying to scare you, that’s always been his tactic when he feels threatened.” 
You want to scream because he’s doings it again, he’s not hearing you. 
“With all due respect sir it would be wise of you to listen to your daughter.” Bucky speaks up from beside you. You fight the urge to glance up at him, eyes locked on your fathers gaze which has found the eyes of the man that stands tall beside you.  
“Not you too,” your father mutters, the urge to scream intensifies. 
“You’ve been witness to what he’s capable of,” Bucky reminds, “on not only one occurrence but a second as well, do you really want to take the risk?” 
“You say I’m not hearing you, but it’s like you’re not hearing me either, that is my blood,” he points again. “My line, my legacy, she is made for this, to take over it, you’re asking me to give it all up for what? An empty threat?” 
“An empty threat? Is that what you think of Nico’s death?” 
Your dad’s eyes flicked to yours, and you know that if you hadn’t been his blood there would have been a hole shot right between your eyes. “What do you want from me? Have I not given you everything? Have I not lived up to what you wanted?” 
No. You think. 
He’s given you nothing, but he’s taken everything.  
“I want you to find someone else.” 
You’re sure your father’s considering grabbing the gun he has nestled in his drawer. He flicks his hardened gaze between you and Bucky. “Leave us y/n.” You gape, “excuse me?” his eyes land on yours, “I said leave us, I need to talk to James alone. Go.” He admonishes you when you don’t move. Bucky gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze his way of saying you’ll be okay. You stand wordlessly ducking your head as you move towards the door, heart hammering in your chest, a knot lodged in your throat as you step out into the hallway.  
The door clicks behind you softly, your back pressed against the wood as you will your ears to hear. The only sound that can be heard though is that of your shallow breathing and the racing of your heart. It’s gone quiet in the hallway, the only sound now is that of your pacing too loud for your ears as you go one way, only to go back and re-track your steps the other way. 
Minutes tick by with no sign of your father or Bucky to be heard behind that closed door. You’ve lost count of the times you’ve retraced your steps in the narrow hallway by the time that door pulls open. There was only one time that you can recall not being able to read Bucky and that was on your first meeting with the brunette, it’s strange now to look at the man you’ve come to know, come to trust so deeply, to look at him and not know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. 
He pulls the door open wider, you take a step forward wanting to ask if he’s okay, if everything was alright, but hesitation sat heavy. Each step taken into your dad's office feels weighed down by a cinder block. The waiting chair is execution, and your dad the jailer waiting to deliver the lethal dose.  
You take your seat, bucky feet behind you, your father doesn’t speak as he slides a paper forward. Your eyes catch on the word Contract at the top of the page, they flick up to your dad, “what's this?”  
“Read it.” 
You lean forward fingers pulling the contract closer, the office is quiet, suffocating as your eyes scan the words printed on the document. Your heart plummets when you see the signatures bonding the contract. Your eyes meet your dads, “what is this?” You ask again needing clarification that what you’re reading on the page before you is real. 
“You wanted me to hear you.” He answers. 
“I – and you think this is hearing me, signing away my hand?” 
Your father scoffs, “there’s no pleasing you is there? I’ve done what you asked me y/n, you don’t wish to be next in line, so I’ve made it to where you don’t have to be, like you’ve asked of me.” 
You’re unsure of what to do, what to say, you look over your shoulder the unreadable expression on Bucky’s features now makes sense you think. “And you agreed to this?” He nods stiffly, the bile rising in your throat, you turn back to your father, “I won’t agree to this, you can’t make me.” You barely get out. 
He settles back in his chair, “unfortunately your name isn’t on the contract for you to be able to make that decision. My hands are tied daughter, this was the only way I could give you what you wanted, while still ensuring my lineage was taken care of.” 
“You think this is what I wanted, what he wanted?!” 
He looks down at the contract that took minutes to draft up and seconds to sign, “his signature is on the page is it not? Besides, there’s no one I trust more. I trusted him with ensuring you safety for a little over a year now, I think that qualifies him enough, he’s taken care of the thing most precious to me.” 
“Do you not stop and think?” Your fathers looks surprised, “have you ever stop and thought of anyone other than yourself?” His surprise slips, cold demeanor returning. “I will not let you take the one thing I have worked for my whole life y/n; I will have my lineage continued; I will have a next in line.” 
“So that’s it, neither of us have a say?” 
Your father rubs at his chin, “I think enough has been said, it’s time to move forward, by the next meeting you shall adorn a wedding band and a new last name, and I will have my next in line.” 
You want to argue but your father wastes no time in ‘moving forward’, “James I will take of everything for you and my daughter, make sure she is tended to tonight, it is obvious her feelings are on a fritz.” 
“Of course, sir.” Bucky answers and you had never imagined there would ever be a time that you wanted to scream at the brunette.  
Your father sees the two of you out, Bucky leading the two of you to the car. Neither of you speaks as the engine starts, your father's home a speck in the mirror the farther you drive. 
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You had only ever been to Bucky’s cabin one other time, the wooden lodge a home away from home for him. It’s still as breathtaking as the first time you laid your eyes on it. The scenery that you watch from the windows seems to be the only thing that has calmed you since you arrived hours ago. 
Neither of you has spoken yet, unsure of what to say, where to start. Should you scream, cry, damn everything to hell? Would anything fix what your father has done? 
You know the answer and it’s not one you like. 
You shut your eyes leaning your head against the cooling glass, this wasn’t how you imagined this would go. In an alternate universe you’d have fallen to your knees in tears, cries of joy leaving your lips at the thought of marrying Bucky Barnes. But this wasn’t that universe, the universe where you fell in love. This was your father once again taking eveything, but this time he wasn’t only taking from you. 
A hand on your shoulder pulls you from your mind, your eyes opening to the breathtaking scenery once more. His hands guide you, turning you softly till you’re falling into a warm embrace. Your hands curl around his back, head finding his chest. His lips press to your head, you were safe. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your hair. 
His apology takes you by surprise, and you pull back slightly to meet his eyes, “what ever are you sorry for, if anyone should be apologizing it is me.” 
He shakes his head, “I went against what you wanted this afternoon, I thought of nothing else other than your safety when I put that pen down on that paper. I should have stopped to think how you might feel, I took your voice away.” Your head shakes vigorously in return as if the action might show him just how wrong you thought it was. “The only person who went against my wishes was my father, when I called this meeting with him, I was not expecting him to make the demands he did, he had no right, he may have taken my choice away but he took yours as well.” 
The brunette's brows furrow in question, “you didn’t ask for this Bucky,” you answer, “you were given the sole task by my father to protect me for as long as you could, and you’ve done just that, I could never thank you enough for it, but that should have been all that this was. Now he demands that you take my hand, he’s ripping away that choice from you. He’s taking your choice of a happy future by making you take my hand, and his lineage.” 
“Would you have chosen differently?” 
You want to say yes, you would. You would have changed the way you met him, would have changed his role in your life. You would have done it all differently, and you tell him just that asking him the same question in return. 
His answer surprises you, “I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Because I'm not sure you and I would have ever crossed paths otherwise, and I don’t want to think of any other possibility.” 
“Why?” 
“Because you might not be in it.”  
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wh0reforoldmen · 1 year
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So close, yet so far away
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Pairings: Hades!Bucky X fem!reader
Warnings: mentions of creepy men, slight angst, Bucky being a hot menace
word count: 977
Summary: You get an unannounced visitor, turns out, he's the one you've been waiting for.
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Outside was gloomy, dim and miserable as you walked on your way; the long shift that you'd just had was unbearably slow. It was hell, to say the least. Being a waitress at a bar was just so fun. Having the pervy old men hit on you or stare at you, the rude ones who just get under your skin—of course there are a few good things, like the regulars who are sweethearts, but god, it’s mostly hell in that place.
You looked up at the sky and dramatically sighed as you saw the dark clouds looming above, the small splash of rain hitting your forehead as your pace got faster as you raced to get home. Unfortunately, you didn’t race fast enough as it began pouring down as you were a few minutes from your apartment.
Your hair stuck to your forehead as you swung the jacket over your head to at least save yourself: it soaked through almost immediately.
As you saw your apartment complex in sight, you noticed the lights looming behind the curtains of your apartment. Someone was in there. Shit. Were you getting robbed? Someone waiting for you? Fuck, fuck.
You sucked up a breath of the damp air and walked into the apartment complex, quickly rushing up the eerie, quiet staircase. The sound of your wet footsteps only filled the void of silence.
You scurried to your door, shakily got your key out of your pocket, and tried as quietly as you could to unlock the door; unfortunately, it was too loud, and you heard shuffling from the inside, "Shit.” You thought to yourself as you still unlocked the door and reluctantly opened it.
No one was there.
Until you looked down at the ominous shadow projecting on the floor. Your heart raced, hearing it in your ears. You tried to control your breathing as you stepped into the complex, leaving the door open just in case.
“No need to be afraid, Angel.”
You’d recognise that voice from anywhere. You sighed in relief as the shadow finally appeared in front of you with a wide, toothy grin.
“Bucky! What did I say about scaring me like that!” You yelled, stopping yourself from giggling.
He stepped towards you, the grin still plastered on his face, his shoes clicking with every step he made. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over him: his hair was tied up in a bun while a few strands hung loose across his forehead, his black tie was loosened up around his neck with a few buttons from his black dress shirt undone, revealing a necklace chain, his dark red velvet waistcoat hugged every curve and dip of his torso, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hands were decorated with beautiful, elegant rings. All the while, his clothes looked like they were hanging on for dear life considering his build, his muscles bulging from his shirt, and his dress pants clinging to his long legs.
You snapped out of your trance as you found him staring down at you, towering over you. He was so tall. You’ve always noticed, but nothing like this. Demons are nothing like humans: the only thing similar is that when they come out of hell for whatever reason, they look human, just so very, very tall and so, so hot.
“You’re staring, angel.” He chuckled, cupping your face between his large hands, not caring how wet your face and body were. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Oh, have you missed this. Him. You missed him so much, the taste of tobacco and whiskey on his tongue. He’s been gone for weeks and he’s finally here.
He pulled away and locked eyes with you, staring into his steel eyes. You stayed for a while like that, holding each other, feeling so safe. Having a demon who is also the king of hell, the devil if you will, as your boyfriend is always a shocker.
“I missed you so much Bucky, too much.” You whisper, breaking the silence between you two.
“I missed you too, angel. I hate being away from you for so long and I'm sorry. I can never give you a warning when I'll be back but it’s always a nice surprise.” He chuckled, trying to break the gloom.
It succeeded, obviously, causing you to chuckle at the attempt.
"Alright, angel,” he began before sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to your shared bedroom. “I’m going to get you nice and comfortable. We can cuddle and lay in bed while we watch whatever you want to watch and we’ll see where the night leads us.” He winked at you with a look in his eye.
“Sounds amazing, Buck.” You smiled as he walked into the room, sat you down on the bed and clicked his fingers. The light turned on as he walked to your shared closet, pulling out a shirt of his and walking back over.
You nod before he can even ask; he always asks if he can undress you and it makes your heart melt. Yes, he’s the devil, Hades, Satan, or whatever you call him. But to you, he’s Bucky, and he is the most generous, sweetest and most caring man you’ve ever met. He’s a gentleman and you love it.
He stripped you of your wet clothes and slid the shirt on you. Obviously, it was humongous on you: he was 6’9 after all and he was pretty built up too.
He hummed to himself, his eyes lingering over you with a smile. “Gorgeous, my gorgeous angel.” He murmured before grabbing your phone from your jacket.
“What do you want, angel?”
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abysswalkerastraea1 · 6 months
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Ravager, Michael Myers smut
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Rough rob zombie Michael
1.7k
Biiiig size kink Michael
Thicc boi
A miasma of copper, sweat and dampness outlined the increasingly growing shadow of darkness that stood adjacent to your wide open cabin door.
What was once a room built to trick the senses into believing that it was the sweltering summer and not, in fact, the blistering cold, now became a place of rapidly growing bitterness from the snow storm that battered the land outside.
The door, so carelessly torn open with little regard, created an unwanted vacuum, siphoning the lulling heat that soothed you to sleep and making way for a chill that would sink into your bones and keep you awake for hours.
And with it, stalking like a black panther ready to strike, the austere and rigid presence of what was surely winter in human form stood as though frozen in the doorway.
Statuesque, the humanoid shape remained blank in every sense of the word. Silence reigned over the rapidly cooling cabin like a suffocating blanket. The raging tempest outside greatly juxtaposed the looming sense of bitter dread inside, and for a moment you peered passed the looming shape and briefly wondered if battling the snow storm outside would increase your chances of survival.
There was a rhythmic dripping of something. A repetitive, deep inhale. Exhale.
Inhale.
Drip.
Exhale.
A glint, reflected in the flickering candles of your cabin.
Crimson decorated your floor, droplets forming a gentle puddle upon the wood. They lingered upon the knifes edge like a faucet that wasn't tightened enough; they belonged.
Your temporary lapse in undivided attention towards the monster in your doorway welcomed the shape to appear suddenly bigger. You did not see him move.
Chills wracked your entire body, clad in typical sleep attire for what once was a cozy cabin - shorts and a very oversized, black t shirt that didn't belong to you. The knitted, pastel pink blanket lay loosely around your shoulders, forgotten.
A false sense of warmth within it would've been useless, anyway.
You braced the cold just like prey suffered the battering winds outside.
The eclipsed figure squeezed the knife handle. The large hand gripped it as though squeezing a fragile neck.
You willed yourself to breathe slowly. You were freezing now, and as the remnants of shock evaporated away with the heat, you stood on uncertain legs, fluffy, mismatched purple and pink socks hanging limply from their original place upon your feet and making them appear bigger than usual.
Your protection from the chilly air dropped unceremoniously to the cozy, pillowed chairs you had occupied. Your blanket lay in a heap, alongside your confidence.
Your hands gripped your arms as a light shiver passed through you. You faced the enormous shadow, cocked your head to perhaps visualise him better.
With the movement, your loose, messy bun tumbled to the side, overhanging your shoulder alongside the loose t shirt which, during your brief slumber, seemed to rearrange itself and hang on one side more than the other, baring a black bra strap over your shoulder.
The shape remained eerily frigid.
Foolishly to most but caringly in your own mind, you hesitantly stepped around your comfortable furniture and into the small passage that led to your open door.
There was a mere few feet of distance now, and at each gentle footstep in advancement, the shape grew bigger, the shadow began to swallow you.
Drip.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Your searching eyes flickered down to the mess gathering at your floor, blood, mud and melting snow smearing the wood in an ugly amalgamation of discoloured sludge.
That stark white, void mask stared through you, through the house even, beyond-
The shapes fingers flexed around the knife handle.
You were entering the territory of an unfathomable force, and your hand squeezed anxiously around your arm. You were shaking now, unable to bear the bitterness of the outside weather and-
"Michael?" You whispered, peering passed him at the violent storm. You allowed the severity of it to take the place of your anxiety, lashing about inside you just like the sleet lashed at the roof, and willed yourself to calm and restrain that almost uncontainable energy.
The shape slowly morphed from looming shadow to the significant, terrifying mold that resembled a man capable of heinous, brutal things.
His shoulder width swallowed you whole, alongside the proportionate, defined muscles of his arms that were outlined by the crimson stained coveralls.
You sidestepped the murderous presence dominating your small home, fearing that it was either him or the bitter cold that would take you. Padding lightly over to the door, you shut it tightly with relief and locked it securely.
Ironic, considering a locked door was typically meant for keeping everything unsafe out; meanwhile, the epitome of evil stood behind you. 
Your skin was bathed in a discomforting blanket of cold. Yet the only cause for your goosebumps was at the silence, the lack of breathing. 
You didnt turn around. Trembling lightly, your hands busied themselves with brushing stray dust particles of snow that had blown in and stuck to your door. 
''You must be freezing.'' 
Drip.
You rubbed at your arms, peering through the textured glass of the door. 
And then you felt it, though far too late.
A bone chilling iciness that even the storm outside couldn't induce. A sudden dampness dripping along your back. A domineering presence lurking horrifically out of sight, but very much within terrifying distance.
Breath fogging up your window, eyes wide with fear and anticipation, you trembled.
If there was anybody outside - there wasn't - the last remnant they'd see of you is the way your head suddenly wrenched backwards, hair bunched up in a bloodied fist as your body was dragged into darkness.
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It was too much, you thought dazedly, mouth hung open in a squeal of pain and pleasure. Your breasts felt bruised against the hard floor, head forced into the damp and bloodied carpet as the beast behind you forced your back to bow and your ass to jiggle with every sharp thrust. 
It was too much, but it was so-
You gasped, fisting the carpet for a desperate grip on reality. Your hair had fallen loose the moment he had forced you to the ground, now gripped in a strong, veined hand that wrenched your head back in the most painful way, making you cry out, and yet the heat between your legs only grew and festered into something unbearable.
You were being filled beyond belief, a rhythmic in and out thrust that felt all consuming, so good, so deep, unrelenting in its pace even as its force pushed you along the floor.
"Michael--", you whined, knuckles white from fisting the carpet and knees shaking, "Oh--, Oh--"
You felt mindless, only focusing on the thick girth of him stretching you open and sinking into you. You felt his large hands at your hips, squealing when he suddenly flipped you onto your back, the thickness of his waist spreading your legs wide as he bruisingly gripped each leg to hoist over his shoulders.
Your face was crimson, eyes sparkling with tears as you watched, mouth agape as his hot length sunk into your quivering heat once more, fully on display for you to see. Your head fell back upon the floor, eyes lidded and hazed as the devil above you took you with vigor, fucking into you like an animal, spreading your legs wide and pinned down as though he was going to breed you.
The thought excited you, and you were no longer able to control yourself as you gripped desperately at his muscular forearms that held terrifying strength and cried out for him. "Yes, yes--", you keened, head lolling to the side, "Take me--", you begged, voice pitching in height.
That ghastly mask stared down at you silently, though through it's eyes you could see the pitch blackness of the devils. Blonde hair peeked out from the neck of the mask, it's length reaching his shoulders, and the wearer himself had a neck that was thick and wide and veined as though his jaw was clenching viciously beneath.
This was so wrong, you thought, so so deviously wrong but you could barely resist when the beast above you was so mouth wateringly big and wide and so fucking strong-
"Ah!", you cried, legs spread wide and knees touching the floor by your head. He had you fully exposed, witnessing the girthy cock fucking you open and your wetness seeping down your thighs messily.
"Michael--", you began head falling back against the floor and mouth hung open. Two of his thick fingers plunged into your mouth, eyes wide and terrifying behind the mask, and despite this terror above you, your own eyes became half lidded as you sucked his fingers dirtily, moaning and whining around them and crying out as your pussy began spasming with your orgasm, pulsating and squeezing his hot length.
You could feel him pulsing erratically inside you, his cock rock hard and weeping with the need to cum, his breathing uneven as a low, dark growl seemed to emit from somewhere within him.
His hips snapped into yours roughly, your tits jiggling and legs wrapping tightly around his thick torso. "Oh, oh-" you couldn't contain yourself, whimpering obscenely but loving it all so much.
His balls were heavy, slapping your ass and tensing. You just wanted him to empty them so hard into you it was driving you crazy.
Tears were dripping down your face, makeup smudged and cascading down your cheeks as he ripped his fingers out of your mouth and moved them lower to spread your puffy labia open around his dick.
The sounds were lewd, squelching and wet, and it seemed to spur him on even more as his hips stuttered, muscular abdomen tensing before thick ropes of cum spilled into you messily.
It filled you up, seeping out and around his cock and down your cheeks. Your thighs were quivering in his hands, unable to stop shaking, before he dropped them roughly and pulled out of you.
You laid upon the floor a mess, legs wide and panting. The shape stood, staring down at you silently. Gripping his knife, he gave you one last long look before departing out into the terrifying weather.
You knew he'd be back, and you knew you'd better be ready for him to have his way with you.
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lovingherrscher · 1 year
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To the anon I accidentally private answer your request without finishing 😭😭 prompt 7 & 38 with Dazai!
Warning: uses of drugs, non-con, dub-con, slight nsfw, lovesick!Dazai, this is NOT a healthy relationship.
“You’re weak. You need me.”
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His voice came out a mere whisper as his fingers trail your fragile body.
Dazai has a habit of saving what's best till last, be it the strawberry on the shortcake you occasionally brought him, or the quail egg in the meat bun you two share on a trip down Chinatown. Even you. He knows that patience is a virtue, but he can't help himself when it comes to you. Just the sight of you is enough to make the brunette lost his composure, he wants you to be his and only his.
To him, you look utterly gorgeous, the way you waltz in the agency, the way you greet other members with that soft, angelic voice of yours. Love is blind, and that leaves no exceptions, not even Dazai can escape it. And of course he knew that. He had seen not one, but many who gone mad for love, and his only miscalculation was that he thought he could escape Cupid's arrow.
Alas, the last straw breaks the camel's back was when he saw you talking in such a casual way with a man he never met. He knew he must not let his old mafia self to have a grasp of him, yet here he is right now, standing right in front of him, staring at the void in Dazai's heart.
"You and I both know that we will eventually lost what we never want to lose. So why not act now before it's too late? Or is it that you prefer to see her cold, dead body in your arms, or maybe you prefer to see the fair lady in someone else's arms?"
No. Dazai wants you. He wants you to be his, and his only. Tightened the grip on his palm, he decided to let the demon prodigy, the former mafia executive takes place just this once.
You wake up to a familiar ceiling. It was Dazai's to be precise. You had seen this far too many, be it the countless times when you come over and cook for the detective to make sure he eats properly, or when you brought him some sweets you claimed to had 'accidentally bought too much' just to check on Dazai and his drinking habit, or those sleepless intimate nights when you two were moaning each other's names.
Dazai's fingers never stopped even once, by now they had already trailing up your thighs to your slick cunt, ready to dip themselves in your heat once more. He knew that you're awake, and yet the idea of stopping never once crossed his mind. His eyes cast over you, the way don't shine like how they used to sent chills down your spine, and the only thing you remember before falling into the hell of pleasure was his fingers making their way in your aroused heat and his soothing words sounds like a lullaby yet the same time sounds like calls from the abyss,
“I’ll make you feel so good you won’t even be able to think about anyone else.”
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thiniceofeternalyouth · 5 months
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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TEN
MY BEST FRIEND
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⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader
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series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~12k
⊲ previous
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You'd been in the hot water so long that all the skin on your fingers had shriveled to look like old one, and even afterward you still felt haunted by that cold - your body shuddered every now and then.
Even though you'd asked Frank for a bunch of hygiene supplies, you'd only used shampoo and body wash because when you looked at your body and saw a bunch of small sores, you involuntarily swallowed, putting the scrub jar away.
Refusing to look at yourself in the mirror, you quickly pulled on clean clothes and grumbled grudgingly - you wanted something more substantial than a plain T-shirt. You opened the door ajar. "Frank," you shouted into the emptiness of the big house. "Where's your sweater?"
The rattle of tableware could be heard from downstairs. "What sweater?" he echoed your shout.
"Ya know, the white one that still survived the Paleozoic," your head was already fully out from behind the door, and you froze waiting for an answer.
An imposing figure appeared on the stairs. "Be quiet," the man hushed you. "Ya'll wake the kids."
"I'm sorry," you whispered in a panic. "So where am I supposed to find a sweater?"
"It's got more holes in it than threads," Frank said clearly angered by your choice of clothing.
You shrugged naively. "It's warm, though."
"I'll look for it," he patted you on the head. The hand was so heavy that you almost hit the floor. "Ya go on downstairs. I made some food."
Your stomach didn't rumble at the mention of food. Instead, it felt like a sticky, thick mass in your chest that you wanted to spit out. "Okay," you said swallowing hard.
When you went down to the kitchen, something delicious was waiting for you - a plate of creamy pasta and chicken, and a bowl of fresh vegetables next to it. As you sat down in front of the food, you felt incredibly stuffy. You put the blame for the overheated air on the stove, which still hadn't cooled down.
All you did was wrap spaghetti around your fork and unroll it, and if you were younger, you would have gotten a thousand reprimands for playing with meal. For the first time in your life, you could barely eat.
After the void, it was like this. Even in the same silence, there was room for background noise - all the ringing, beeping, rustling. You wanted to tell everyone what you'd found or to lock yourself in your room and never come out - at least not until the thoughts in your head was quieter.
You threw your fork into the plate disappointedly, and it clattered with such a clang that you involuntarily squeezed your eyes shut. The insistent rumbling sound was impossible to push away, and it only tightened the nauseous knot in your throat more. "... here?" someone's voice, like spokes, began to unravel the tangle of ringing thoughts. You jumped up before someone's hand was on your shoulder. 
Dany stood in front of you - all skinny and frightened. "Ya here?" she asked quietly, barely moving her lips. Her glistening gaze darted around haphazardly, scrutinizing your face as if trying to search for the truth. "It's really ya, isn't it?"
"Hey, bun," you said smiling involuntarily, and with all your remaining strength, you pulled the girl against you. Her gaunt figure responded easily to your actions - she collapsed helplessly in your embrace. "It's me."
Under her weight, your legs began to give way and shake. Holding Danielle by the waist, you pulled her to a chair and sat down beside her. She sat glaring at the table, but you noticed that she occasionally glanced at your plate. "Ya hungry?"
Danielle nodded uncertainly. "Just a little."
You rose from your seat. "Then wait a minute...," you were cut off at half a word by the squeak of a plate against the countertop. You stared in utter amazement at Dany who was already shoving a second forkful of pasta into her mouth. "Have ya not been fed here at all?" you blurted out dumbfounded, looking at her sudden appetite. "Uh, no, wait a minute...," you scratched your forehead thoughtfully, putting the mosaic together in your head. "What are ya even doing here?"
"Couldn't be in that house anymore," Danielle's voice was already weak, but her mouthful of food made it almost impossible to make out the words at all.
"Something wrong?" you alarmed.
You don't think you've ever seen that shade of red on her face before, though you've seen her embarrassed or flustered more than once. "Are ya kidding me?" she snapped angrily, throwing her fork on the table - the force she exerted caused it to fly off into the far corner of the kitchen. "Ya just disappeared!"
"Dany, but I'm back..." you started softly and reached out to her trying to wrap your arms around her shoulders.
Danielle straightened up sharply and pulled away avoiding your touch. "This isn't about ya right now!" she shouted. "I couldn't even breathe properly in that house, I-I broke up with Megumi because of it, I thought...," she sobbed and went silent for a second trying to quiet the growing pain in her throat. "I thought this would happen to me at some point too, I'd just disappear even though someone would wait for me," the girl mechanically began to shake her head from side to side as if denying everything that could happen to her.
You were taken aback by this outburst of emotion, and you blinked your eyes in confusion and tried to touch her again. "It's okay," you said quietly, wiping away a tear that had appeared on Dany's cheek. "Maybe it wasn't like that yesterday, but it's fine now. What did ya...," you fell silent for a second, rubbing your temple as if that might take away the approaching headache. "Ahem, what did ya say about Megumi? Did ya two really break up?"
"I didn't want the same fate for him," Danielle mumbled taking your hand away from her face - this time her movement was neither angry nor wary. Quite the opposite, she squeezed your palm in hers. "So... It'll be easier for both if us."
"Dany, if ya just don't like him anymore, that's one thing," you said smirking slightly.
"It's not like that!" she blurted out indignantly, and if her eagerness had been a fraction stronger, there was a chance your palm in her hand would have crunched. "I already explained that!"
"I don't doubt ya had noble goals in mind," you said nodding meaningfully. "But don't ya think it should be up to the two of ya to decide?" exhaling noisily through her nose, Dany frowned. "It's not like I even asked about it, though," you pointed out reasonably. "He agreed to break up with ya?"
Danielle faltered. "I, uh... I just confronted him with the accomplished fact."
"So mature of ya," you patted her hand condescendingly while smiling broadly - and even though Dany couldn't see it, she could clearly sense it in your voice.
"Everything's a joke to ya, isn't it?" she hissed, jumping up from her seat. "Though what was I even counting on?" she asked, grinning bitterly. "I doubt ya'll ever understand me. Ya and the topic of relationships are... well, ya know. Incompatible," she waved her hand disappointedly leaving your dialog behind and headed for the second floor.
You would have called out to her if it hadn't been for a impudent misunderstanding between you two. What upset her so much? What did you say wrong?
In this blind journey, the feelings of one person never reached the feelings of the other. All the words got lost and dissolved - you were silent. You were silent and watched her disappear into the darkness of the second floor.
"Ahem," Frank coughed pointedly, coming down the stairs just after Danielle left. "Here ya go," he said, holding out his old sweater to you.
You frantically pulled the sweater over you, catching your breath. Once your head was through the collar, you exhaled disappointedly. "Ya heard everything, didn't ya?"
"Not on purpose," Frank replied idly, picking up his fork from the floor. "Young lady, is this how I taught ya to act around food?" he said, turning his attention to the plate in which the disheveled spaghetti rested.
"I'm sorry," you pressed your lips together guiltily. "I didn't feel like I can eat anything, and Dany... Well, she just didn't finish it."
"Ya need to go to the doc. We’re leaving," Frank sternly retorted.
"Frank, it's late and-"
"I said we’re leaving!" he bellowed, slamming his fist down on the table - the tabletop was clearly not ready for such a thing. There was a pitiful cracking sound. You bit your tongue and your eyes widened for a moment - if you'd ever seen Frank like that, it was so long ago that you couldn't even remember.
"Frank, I'm fine," you said, choosing your words carefully. "I'll go see him tomorrow morning, 'kay?"
"Why in the morning?" he said warily, pushing back a chair and gesturing for you to sit down - the sweep of his hand somehow looked like an invitation to an execution.
After hesitating, you walked over and sat down - as instructed. "There's something I need to do. I don't think I can eat or even just sit still until I do."
"What exactly?"
"I really need to see the higher-ups," trepidation turned your voice into a squeak and you coughed, embarrassed at what you heard.
"Why?" Frank tapped his fingers harshly on the damaged tabletop.
You faltered, staring at your lap. "I want to see if there's someone else among them," you said so quietly that Frank could only understand your words when he read your lips.
"What?" he interrogated incredulously. "Ya really think there could have been some trash among them?"
"Yeah, I think so," you replied firmly. "Though no, I'm not sure. Not all the way through. It's just that I think so. God," you buried your face tiredly in the palm of your hand. "That's exactly why I want to check."
Frank was dumbfounded, for nothing like this had ever happened before in his memory, nor in the stories of his father and grandfather. "No, ya can't do that," he objected. "Think about it," noticing your skeptical expression, Frank switched to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ya can't just barge in and test them like that. What if the demon isn't among them? What if one of them die in the process? There'll be tons of witnesses that ya did it, and ya have to realize what'll happen. And even if ya do find a demon among them, what then? At best, ya'll have to fight it, and look at ya!" he said indignantly, grabbing your skinny hand. "And if ya're unlucky, ya'll just scare the bugger away. No, ya can't do that," he shook his head. "We have to be smarter, more cunning. Fish them out one at a time and check them out. If one doesn't make it and still dies, there'll be no witnesses.  I'll give ya an alibi. Ya were at my place tending the roses," he squeezed your palm gently. "Yeah, tending roses," the man nodded confidently. "To check on everyone, ya need to recover, though, so we're going to the dock. No arguments."
"I guess ya're right," you mumbled guiltily, then bit the inside of your cheeks for a moment - all out of frustration. "I'm just... I'm just in a hurry."
Frank ruffled your hair, smiling cordially. "What did I teach ya? It's just like eating, isn't it? If ya hurry, ya'll get indigestion," he said, standing up and putting the plate of pasta in the sink. "Besides...," he began tautly after a brief pause; the sound of the plate clattering against metal sent shivers down your spine. Since when did that sound become so creepy? "Food is supposed to be enjoyed."
You glimpsed the man, his face shrouded in shadows for a moment. "Frank," you began mundanely. "Ya said we going to doc? Ya going with me?
The shadows immediately dispersed as if by obedience to a lighted lantern. "Sure!" he exclaimed resolutely. "I must see to it myself."
"It's not like I'm a kindergartener," you whined.
Frank hummed skeptically and protractedly. "Maybe not, but to me ya're still a little pain in the ass."
You continued to whine. "I'll get there myself!" 
"No bickering," Frank ordered confidently but gently, raising his palm in the air - you were immediately silenced.
"Fine," you frowned, pouting your lips. "But can we still go in the morning? I'm too tired right now," you muttered, getting up from your chair, but only to get to the couch and flop down on it. "Can't we at least watch something?" you hissed angrily, waving your hand toward the TV. "Some stupid show, movie or series, whatever. I just really miss TV."
Frank sat down next to you. "Certainly we can," he said, turning on the TV.
Pictures appeared on the screen. Bright juicy images that made your eyes water, but you were glad of that because the color purple hadn't given you anything but a migraine in a long time. Frank switched channels until you saw something that looked interesting and watchable.
You settled down and stretched out on the couch to your full height, throwing your legs unceremoniously over Frank's lap. All your attention was on what was happening on the screen, so you didn't even notice how Frank smiled at first, and then, noticing the calluses and sores on your feet, swallowed worriedly. "Aren't ya expecting anyone?" you suddenly blurted out your question, shifting your gaze to the door.
Frank, taken aback, shook his head. "No," he drawled hesitantly. "I'm not expecting anyone. What's the matter?"
You glared at the door for a few more moments. "No, nothing," you muttered quietly, returning your attention to the television. "How long ago did Dany and Megumi break up?" you asked, gently poking the man's stomach with your foot.
He immediately exhaled sharply and irritably as if he'd been waiting for you to ask that question. "As soon as she moved here!" he spat out, clapping his hands. "This boy comes here almost every week to talk to her, and she doesn't even leave the room. She can't even tell me what's troubling her! Her wording is so vague... I just want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she comes to her senses!" he slapped your leg with heat, and you hissed involuntarily. "Sorry!"
"It's okay," you said, though it felt like an electric shock was still shooting through your leg. "I'll try to talk to her, though ya heard it yourself... Maybe Kyle should be the one to ask. He's good at, well, uh, how to put it..."
"Support people?" finished the man for you.
"Yeah," you nodded. "Sorta."
"Yeah, he came by already, tried to," he waved his hand irritably. "It's like she can't hear anyone."
"We have to get her out of this state," you declared, fidgeting restlessly. "I don't want her to do anything stupid."
Frank squinted suspiciously, looking at you. "What kinda stupid thing is that?" you looked at him meaningfully, pursing your lips. "No," he said with a huff. "She wouldn't dare."
"She's a teenager," you remarked, sitting up and tucking your legs under you. "Teenagers have a rough time of it. First and most often unrequited love, adjustment, successful or not-so-successful socialization, misunderstanding from parents who devalue their problems-"
"Ya'll have to excuse me, but most of the time teenagers don't have real problems," Frank said, but noticing your nostrils starting to flare, added: "I said most of the time. Not always."
"Everyone judges the depth of a puddle based on their own height," you subdued the man with a look. "And they haven't grown up yet. They may brush it off or laugh about it in a dozen years, but right now it's a real problem for them," you burrowed deeper into the collar of your sweater as if hiding. "And it's all just about ordinary life. Now imagine what life is like for Dany in our world."     
"So maybe we should let her go?" suggested Frank quietly.
"That's for her to decide. And anyway, she has no mother or father left, where are we gonna let her go?" you objected. "I'll still try to talk to her again after a while. No, I'll at least try to get her out of the room first, and then I'll see how it goes."
Frank glanced over his shoulder, straight for the stairs. Nothing was heard - no fuss, no footsteps. "All right," he said. "But after what ya said, it makes me wanna take the door off its hinges in her room now."
"Ya're supposed to be improving her condition, not making it worse," you muttered unhappily.
Frank, to signify his defenselessness, threw up his hands. "I said what I wanted to do, not that I was really gonna do it."
Without answering anything, you were running through your head thinking that you wouldn't have taken the door off its hinges. You would have just installed cameras. At Frank's questioning look, you slapped yourself on the forehead for allowing such an idea. Frank hummed longingly as if your entire chain of reasoning was right there in plain sight and he'd followed it. "We're not gonna do anything like that!" you protested, jumping up on the spot.
"Honey, ya okay?" the man asked worriedly, grabbing your shoulder and bringing you back to your original position.
"Yeah, yeah," you nonchalantly waved it off, leaning back on the back of the couch. "Look, but guys... I mean, Kyle, Rachel, and Issu, they... they went on without me, right?"
"Sure," Frank confirmed, squeezing your shoulder. "They're responsible persons," you felt light. No doubt you'd felt it before, whether it was your lean body or your home surroundings, but this was a different feeling. Not lightness. Relief. Frank noticed the wrinkles in your forehead finally relax. "What is it?"
"Frank, I found a settlement."
The man, startled by what he heard, gave an amazed gasp. You felt a large hand scoop you up, and all you had time to do before you were pinned to his chest was squeak. "Oh," Frank chuckled nervously. "The darkest hour is nearest the dawn, yeah?"
Frank stroked your hair and seemed to be saying how good you were - the lack of oxygen in his arms made you dizzy, and you couldn't tell if he was saying it or if you were just imagining it. It felt good, though. "Uh-huh," you muffled out.
When the man finally loosened his grip a little, you were able to take a few full breaths and come to your senses. Your gaze automatically drifted to the front door again. "The fuck is this," you cursed, getting up from your seat. In one motion, you were at the door and opened it with a jerk. No one.
You ran out onto the porch, looking around - no one was lurking behind any bush or tree. You rushed out to the backyard. Still in your right mind and sneaking carefully between the beds so as not to damage anything, you hung over the low wooden fence and looked down - the path that led to your house was indeed someone running. Someone small and thin, probably a child. The last thing you saw before the child finally ran down the hill and disappeared behind the other house was something glinting on his hand.
"Who's there?" shouted Frank, standing at the beginning of the beds.
You looked once more at the house behind which the unknown guest had hidden. There was nothing to be seen. "I have no clue," you said, still keeping your eyes on that house and hoping someone would show up. "It looks like it was a kid."
Frank, resting his arms at his sides, snorted. "What kinda kid walks this late?" waiting a little while for you to level with him, he strode beside you back into the house. "Okay, ya stay here and I'll go and go around to everyone," he said, stepping over the threshold - only to grab his jacket. "Maybe one of the adults didn't look out. It's no case for a child to be out alone so late. Even in Hopetown," Frank kissed you on the top of the head and left you alone with the show on TV.
***
The series was interesting. You didn't even notice the morning had come when you were watching people who had survived a plane crash trying to survive on an island far away from civilization. Frank, who had returned in the middle of the night, had fallen asleep on the couch where you were sitting, muttering quietly to himself that no one had lost anyone.
The man slept so soundly that he was not disturbed by the birds whose beautiful singing in the morning seemed annoying, nor by the sound of the alarm clock on his phone, which pissed you off more. "Frank, turn it off," you muttered, but he didn't respond. You kicked him defiantly in the thigh, and only then did he perk up, jabbed something randomly at the phone screen, and his head fell back against the pillow. "Frank, the geese won't feed themselves," you said, climbing up and sitting down on the back of the couch. "Get up, ya sloth!" planting your feet on his back, you attempted to shove him off the couch. The man's body wouldn't budge, and the alarm clock rang again.
You were distracted from the action by a thin voice. "Y/N-ie?" there was Tris on the far step, clutching a tattered stuffed cat. Frank jumped up on the spot, and you tightened your lips skeptically - a tank shot wouldn't have woken him up, but a child's voice brought him to his senses.
"Ya woke her," you hissed, jumping off the couch. You walked over to Tris and squatted down in front of her. "Hey," as soon as you reached for her, she immediately pulled away and almost tripped on the step. "What's wrong?" you worried, frowning your eyebrows.
"You're ugly," the girl stared at you with frightened eyes and clutched the toy harder to her chest. "Don't touch me."
You opened your mouth, but closed it again. "She's not ugly," said Frank, scooping Tris up in his arms. "She just hasn't been eating enough. Now do ya see what happens to people who don't eat enough?" he questioned instructively, walking over to the fridge.
You should have spent more time with her. She rarely saw you, and this time you came home looking like that. You knew exactly why she'd acted the way she did, but you couldn't help the pang of annoyance.
You walked over to her, sitting meekly on Frank's arm and examining the contents of the refrigerator with him, and immediately intercepted the little girl - she immediately started kicking and squealing. "Let go! I don't wanna!"
You pulled her against you, ignoring the childish but precise blows of small fists against your body. "It's me, it's just me," you babbled, never losing your grip, though you cringed every time a fist hit your bulging spine. "That's me. Bun, look at me," just hearing the nickname startled Tris. She frowned at you, and though she still didn't trust you, she stopped whipping you.
"You used to come more often," tears could be heard in her voice. "Why did you stop coming? Y-you don't love me anymore?"
"What?" you blurted out in confusion. "No, no, of course not. I just got worked up. I'm sorry," you said, pulling her tighter against you.
If her tears had been silent before, now she burst into sobs. "S-so you love work more?"
"No, no, don't say that. I love you equally," came the clank of a plate and Frank turned around and looked at you so fiercely that you immediately realized your mistake. "That's not what I meant to say! Of course I love ya more. It's just... I need to make some money," you said quietly, shielding Tris from any other more detailed explanations as to why you were doing this.
Frank rustled the kitchen utensils harder, drawing attention to himself. "Honey," he addressed Tris, though you both raised your heads. "What do ya want for breakfast?"
Tris sniffed weakly through her reddened nose. "Omelet with cheese," she said quietly, and snuggled into your neck again.
Frank's phone rang again - you snorted irritably, thinking it was another alarm clock, but to your surprise, he tapped the screen and put the phone to his ear. Who's calling him this early? "Yes," he said into the receiver. "Yeah, she's here," he answered monosyllabically, giving you a glimpse. "Yeah, I got it," he dropped the call and stared dumbly at the screen for a few more seconds. Coughing, Frank slowly walked over to you. "Higher-ups are calling."
For some reason now, thinking about last night's strange guest made your insides boil - just like the water in a kettle, only this one had an automatic shutoff, but your insides continued to seethe. "What the hell?" you whispered angrily, looking up at the puzzled Frank.
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As you walked along the tired road, ignoring the streetlights that had been there for a hundred years, you kept thinking about that child. Had they really fallen so low as to ask the child to watch you and, more importantly, what had the higher-ups offered them? Or did they take advantage of the little man's unselfishness?
The snow had melted and the masonry was still covered with fallen autumn leaves. Had it occurred to any of them to pick up a broom and clean up the mess? Out of frustration, you tried to kick one such leaf - it mockingly flew aside, and you almost fell. "Careful," Frank said, grabbing you under the arm.
Despite your condition, you tried to keep your posture as straight and your head as high as possible, even though it made you uncomfortable. As soon as you were distracted for a second, your body folded in on itself and your head fell back. "Did ya tell them?" you asked, realizing the absurdity of your question.
"No."
"I had to ask."
"I know," Frank said understandingly.
No matter how much you walked, it was as if the wide wooden doors were never coming closer. "Was it a good idea to leave Tris and Mike with Danielle?"
"I'm not sure," the man shook his head sadly. "But I couldn't send ya alone, either. And Danielle... Maybe she'll be distracted for at least an hour, who knows."
"Or maybe she needs some peace and quiet right now and we've only made things worse," you put forward a disappointing suggestion.
Frank's face turned stern, which foreshadowed the grumbling. "That's it, enough. We can't keep up everywhere and always do everything right."
"Is this about your cheese omelet?" you giggled.
Frank immediately exploded. "I did everything right!" he thundered. "Why didn't she like it?"
You bit your lip, trying to suppress a sly smile. "Tris told me that Gojo's was better," though Frank's face was covered by a thick mustache and beard, you could see that his face was turning red, and the increasing wheezing could be picked up even by a hearing impaired person. "Don't be so jealous," you encouraged him, shoving him lightly with your shoulder.
"Let your man cook for her now, then," he muttered unhappily.
You didn't blush, you didn't flinch or swallow your tongue - it all sounded like one big joke to you. "He's not my man," you dismissed.
The door seemed closer and closer. It was only three lanterns away. "For how long?" snorted Frank. "He even took Shaya's-"
"That's it, I'm going," you cut him off halfway through.
The man froze in place, and you stopped abruptly with him, for Frank still held you under his arm. "What does that mean? I'm coming with ya."
"No," you objected softly. "Just in case, I need ya out of the area of potential danger."
Frank jerked you to stand in front of him - he stared into your eyes, trying to find your plans in them. "I told ya not to do anything rash."
You squeezed his hand gently. "I won't. Just being reassuring."
He squeezed your palm in response. "Fine, but I'm gonna stand here. One more thing - if ya're not back in ten minutes, I'm coming after ya."
You giggled, childishly and shyly nodding. "Okay."
Without looking back, you made it the rest of the distance to the door much faster than you'd expected, and what surprised you even more was that it was closed. You leaned your forehead against the wooden surface - of course you would have liked to kick the door with your foot to secure your long-held opinion of yourself, but you could do nothing more than push. The door gave way with great difficulty, shuffling and scratching the floor - not for a moment did you feel as if you were moving a mountain, for you had done your best, and it had hardly moved an inch or two.
You pushed again, and the door gave way as easily as if it weighed nothing - it flew off with a bang, causing you to slam face down on the floor. "Eh...," you mumbled. There was no blood - but the sharp sensation in the bridge of your nose made you start to sniffle. You raised your head - five pairs of eyes were staring at you. All of them. "Howdy," you muttered, rising to your feet and shaking yourself off. "Couldn't ya open it?" you asked grudgingly, pointing behind you. "It's heavy."
Christian glanced at you from head to toe, slowly stroking his chin. Only Nathaniel greeted you with a nod of his head. Old Ellie sat next to him. You could see through the magnifying lenses of her glasses that her eyes were slipping shut. A couple, a man and a woman, who didn't even glance in your direction, but only continued to talk quietly about something, occupied the remaining two chairs on Christian's left hand. "Ooh," you drawled contentedly. "Even the married ones are here. Ravona, Yoichi, hey," you waved at them, and the woman finally graced you with a glance. You chuckled quietly as she raised her eyebrows haughtily and went back to cooing with her husband. "What can I do for ya?" you turned to Christian obligingly.
"A cockroach, indeed," Christian said absently, and he was no longer looking at you, but through you. "You came back last night."
"Yes-"
"It wasn't a question," Christian said, flailing his palm lightly in the air. "You should have come here right away," you bit your cheeks and lowered your head sharply, all because you felt a growing anger – like the anger a child feels when a parent scolds him for something as trivial as that. "You're aware of that, too, so you're not being as cheeky as you usually are."
"Yeah I just wanted to take a bath and rest for a while," you blurted out, splashing your hands dramatically at the injustice. "What's wrong with that?"
Christian barely audibly clucked his tongue. "People could have gotten hurt 'cause of your cravings," he stated, rising from his seat and carefully picking up the clerical shears from the stand with his fingers. "You know the terms under which we agreed to maintain neutrality, so if you'd be so kind...," he stepped close to you - so close that you could smell his breath mixed with the scent of minty mouthwash. "Hold still."
Christian raised one arm, the loose shiny fabric falling away, exposing his forearm. "What are you doing?" bellowed Nathaniel alarmed. "That's not protocol!"
"Silence!" Christian hissed loudly, throwing his scissor hand into the air. Nathaniel stopped abruptly and put his hand to his mouth - you could see from the corner of your eye that he was trying to separate his stitched lips with his fingers.
Something under your eye prickled. When you touched the pad of your finger to the sore spot and looked at it, you noticed blood, and then you turned your gaze to Christian, eyebrow raised disapprovingly. "I apologize," he said courteously, lowering the hand that was clutching the shears and bringing it to his bare forearm. "I was careless. It won't happen again. Now...," he ran the edge of the scissors across his skin without thinking, leaving a long deep cut that immediately began to bleed.
For everyone here, it started to flow. For you, it started to ooze. Breathing steadily, you tore your gaze away from the scarlet liquid and stared into Christian's eyes. No surprise, there was a condescending, barely perceptible smile on his face as usual. Saliva began to pool in your mouth, but you didn't dare swallow, not to let on that all you felt was dread hunger.
Dread hunger was always something unpleasant, even painful and unbearable, but you were in nothing but excruciating pain - as if every bone in your body were being broken in three places and all your nerves were being slowly pulled out from under your skin. For a second, you wished the man standing in front of you would turn into a mirror - just to make sure you were all right. In fact, Christian did reflect your condition because if anything had happened to you, his haughty smile would have turned into a nasty one.
Nathaniel rose from his seat again, drawing attention to himself. Christian reluctantly turned around, hardly taking his eyes off you. "That's enough. She's fine," Nathaniel said sharply, and you took advantage of the confusion to finally swallow the thick saliva that had accumulated.
"Well," Christian sighed, and after waiting for the wound on his forearm to heal, walked to his chair. "I won't keep you any longer," he said carelessly over his shoulder.
You couldn't even roll your eyes, and with the last shred of pride you could muster, you turned and walked away from the place. Your throat felt like it was churning, and it seemed to you that as soon as you opened your mouth, either vomit or blood would pour out.
You were beginning to forget your own language, so when you saw Frank on the horizon, you couldn't swear properly - even your thoughts were a mess of letters and sounds instead of the usual words. Your legs began to shake. The last thing you saw before you bent in half was Frank running toward you. "Honey," he whispered, picking you up by the waist. "Does it hurt too much?" he worried, trying to look into your face, but you didn't rise it. You didn't even hear him. "Let's get ya to the doc," the man said softly, scooping you up in his arms.
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[May 30, 2020; 09:43 am; hunters' hq]
Your vision was so blurred that even the silhouettes were a mishmash of faded colors. You couldn't feel your own limbs, and you shook your head sluggishly as someone's hands tried to shove something into your mouth - the tip of your tongue picked out several small, smooth capsules, and then your mouth was filled with water; you coughed - someone instantly pressed their palm against your lips, forcing you to swallow it all.
Finally, the mess in your eyes began to blur - you saw a doc's coat disappear through the doorway, like a snow-white dove that had flown away. "Hey," the face leaning over you was nothing, though you caught a glimpse of green. "Sunshine, ya okay?"
Rolled onto your side, you squeezed your eyes shut a few times, and when you opened them, you saw Kyle in front of you. You wanted to jump up and pounce on him, but he hugged you faster. "Kyle!" you exclaimed in relief. "God, it's so good to see ya again!"
"Hey," he reached out softly, burrowing into the top of your head.
You squirmed impatiently. "Kyle, that was awful!" you complained. "I had to lie on the bare floor, my lower back hurts like hell, no hot water or food, no toothpaste, I'm ninety percent sand, my knees hurt, and my ears are still buzzing like there's a train coming!"
A chuckle escaped Kyle's lips - he was relieved at the sound of your confused babbling as confirmation that you were indeed back. "Easy," he grinned, laying you back down on the couch. "Ya still have a high fever, so don't jump up."
You snorted. "How many people do ya even know who died of high temperature?"
"Read about the Inquisition, that's fucked up," he joked, pulling the blanket over you and tucking the edges under your squirming legs.
You hesitated a little and watched the procession, your lips tightening uneasily and you pulled yourself to a sitting position again. "Look, Kyle... Out there in the void-"
He looked at you despondently. "Don't even start," he retorted grimly.
"We need to get back there as soon as possible-"
"Enough!" he bellowed angrily. "Ya just got back, and all ya doing now is complaining, snapping at me, and also claiming ya need to go back! Have ya even considered how I feel, no?" his voice broke on the last words, and it happened as suddenly as it did easily - as if someone had accidentally snapped a thin dry branch in two. "Don't ya dare," he panted, shaking his head tiredly.
"Kyle," you began softly. "I told ya I'm really happy to see ya-"
"It's a bare fucking minimum!" his broken voice turned to a shout, and as he gave you his disappointed stare, you discerned in the fluorescent light the redness of his eyes.
As you struggled to swallow the threads of resentment and injustice, you thought about the fact that maybe you deserved this kind of bias on his part, but that didn't give Kyle the right to interrupt you. "I just wanted to tell ya that I found a settlement, that's all," you muttered, playing with the edge of the blanket with your fingers.
"Oh, shit," Kyle marveled, and now without the veil of anger in his eyes, he sat down gently on the bed and wrapped his arms around you again. "I'm sorry," he mumbled guiltily. "I... I was just really worried, ya know."
"Screaming wasn't necessary," you mumbled grumpily into his shirt. "That's why I have to go back there, or show ya, so ya can at least start without me."
"I know, I know," Kyle said understandingly, stroking your head because he now shared your excitement with you. "But in order to show it, ya need to recover. Ya can't go into the void yet. Even if ya don't get broken in half, if Doc finds out about it, he-"
"Will cut off my legs," you finished for him doomfully. "I'm aware of that."
Kyle hummed thoughtfully. "Ya know what we should do? Why don't ya take a couple weeks off for now, and then ya can show me, where the settlement is" you grimaced irritably at the time he'd given you. "And I'll show Rach and Issu, and we'll start without ya. And when ya finally recovered, ya'll join us. Deal?"
"And what will ya do for those two weeks?" you sourly inquired.
"For now, we'll run like we ran, since raids can't be interrupted. I think we won't even run, but walk," he grinned. "Saving our strength. Maybe we'll come across another settlement," you didn't answer, only sighed disappointedly and longingly. "Stop sulking," Kyle gently tugged at your ear, and feeling you shudder, chuckled. "Lemme get my laptop and we will watch something, 'kay?"
"Okay," you replied, watching him get up from the couch. "Bring me a snack, too."
Kyle opened his mouth, and when he realized the words weren't coming out, he closed it back up. He glanced toward one of the bollards where something was lying on it. "Ya know...," he began carefully, afraid to see even a hint of tears in your eyes. "There are some problems with that."
You followed the direction of his gaze, and when you saw several bags of glucose for the IV, you despaired. "No," you exhaled bitterly. "No, no, no!" you banged your fists stubbornly on the bunk. "Don't do this to me, please. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna wither and die."
"Don't be dramatic," Kyle laughed, looking at your stricken face. "Doc said it's only for a couple days. Keep your cool, and I'll be right back," he said as he walked out the door, but stopped immediately. It was as if he was staring somewhere in the emptiness of the hallway, not blinking or averting his gaze. You gingerly threw back the blanket, and swung your legs over as quietly as you could, a pleasant chill traveling down your feet as they touched the floor. "Hey," you jerked back when Kyle spoke again. "What ya doing here?"
Megumi appeared in the doorway. "I... I'm sorry, I just heard you were back," he glimpsed at you. "I just... I wanted to talk, uh… About Dany, but I guess I choose wrong timing. Um... Are you feeling okay?"
"As you can see," you chirped, smiling, but all Megumi saw was a couple hundred bones held together by a thin layer of skin. "It's all good. So what's the deal with Dany-"
"I'll go," Megumi mumbled awkwardly, and turned on his heels and scurried away. You gave Kyle a puzzled look, and he returned you the same one, shrugging his shoulders.
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[May 30, 2020; 4:53 pm; hunters' hq]
[04:51pm] Oldman: Ward seven on the left. She's not feeling well rn, so go easy on her
Gojo kept staring at the message, stroking the small scratch on his phone's screen - a scratch that had formed just recently, the moment he'd first read it. Standing in front of the door to the infirmary, he consciously made a fist and only unclenched it when the pain of his nails digging into his skin made it clear that he was awake.
Gojo finally entered the corridor of the infirmary and took a step. Then another step, and another, and another, and another, and another, each one faster than the last, and his mind was racing with the thought of not running. Why was he walking so fast? The ward was already so close, and he was afraid he wouldn't have time to quiet that excited yet aching feeling in his chest, lest he look like an immature teenager who couldn't control his feelings. 
He stopped in the doorway. He didn't just stop, he froze. How tired are you if you didn't even look at him? And if you didn't hear him at all, what happened to you?
You were sitting on the bed, staring at the phone - his ribs were stabbing. So you had a chance to send him a message, but you didn't.
Gojo tapped on the doorjamb to get your attention, and when you finally looked at him, he wanted to laugh. Your eyes did look three times as big against your gaunt face, but he didn't see you as just a skeleton covered in skin. Gojo thought only that you reminded him so much of a lemur. "You just got back," he grinned, looking at your clothes - a shapeless, holey sweater and pants that were three times your size, whether they were men's or whether you'd gotten so skinny that all your previous clothes hung on you like a sack. "And you've already had a clothes fight with some beggar?" 
The snow had long since melted, washing away all the winter moping and despair, and the spring drops had long since played their inspiring choruses, but he was still here. "Hey," you said softly with such a joyful exhalation that Gojo bit his lip, not knowing why, either to suppress a silly smile or to muffle a painful whimper.
Your husky voice should have dispelled all his doubts about the illusory nature of what was happening, but he still couldn't believe you were back.
His unfamiliarly warm gaze made you catch up to the very chimera and grab for it, but even holding it with both hands, you still couldn't believe he stayed.
"Hey," he echoed you, keeping the quiet motifs of the chamber. "You look awful." 
His words were hardly encouraging, but to you they sounded like a compliment. You watched Gojo approach the bed and sit awkwardly on the footboard, tucking his legs under him. He looked exactly the same as the first day you met him, though a mysterious blue under his eyes peeked through. "And ya're still beautiful." 
He grinned affectionately. "Shut up," he mumbled shyly, moving closer to you.
You had no idea how much courage it took for him to press his forehead against yours, for he did it without hesitation, confidently. However, you, for your part, looked down like a coward. "I...," you began excitedly, swallowing. "Honestly, I didn't think ya'd stay," a nervous chuckle escaped your lips - you wanted to color your words with indifference, but it came out the other way around.
You felt Gojo's arms around your waist. He would have pressed you against him for all he was worth, but due to your condition, he had to sacrifice his desires. "I know I've given you reasons not to trust me. It won't happen again," he whispered into your neck, and you knew what he meant. He stayed yesterday, he'll stay tomorrow.
He'll stay with you.
Even though he couldn't hold you tighter, he selfishly tried to pull you closer, even though there was no more space between you. When he unintentionally pressed his knee against one of the sore spots on your leg, your whole body tensed involuntarily. Sensing this, Gojo raised his head and stared at you. "What is it?" 
You shook your head, tucking your leg deeper under you. "It's okay," you declared, but the words came out through clenched teeth.
"What have you got there?" he asked worriedly, gently grabbing your ankle. "Let me see."
"It's not a pretty sight out there," you said, stubbornly trying to remove his hand. "Don't."
Your attempts were unsuccessful - if you could handle one of his hands, you couldn't handle two. Gojo pulled your leg out and rested it on his knee. "I actually exorcise curses," he announced smugly, rolling up your pant leg. "Do you have any idea how nasty they can look? I got one once, in the shape of a wormy di-"
"I got it!" you exclaimed, waving your free hand. "I got it, don't go on," you buried your face in your hand in embarrassment, and Gojo laughed softly. 
Nudging your shin, he examined it. The usual calluses and a few sores - Gojo didn't feel anything nasty or repulsive. "Well," he drawled thoughtfully, looking around the ward. Gently placing your foot on the couch, he stood up and began rummaging through the drawers. 
Even as you heard the sounds of searching, you couldn't move your hand away from your face. "What ya doing?" you mumbled in frustration.
The sounds and rumbling intensified - some things seemed to be flying to the floor. "Looking for ointment...," he muttered under his nose. A drawer door slammed. "Oh, found it!" you tried to disconnect from everything that was going on, but his hands, that once again encircled your shin and brought it back to his knee, stubbornly prevented you from doing so. "Hold still," if you didn't have your hands right now, you'd be staring at the ceiling. If you were forced to look, you'd be gouging your eyes out. You could feel Gojo gently circling certain places on your leg as if inspecting, and only then a cool sensation that dulled the pain. If the gel was so cold, why did you feel so warm?
You sighed in relief when he finally put your leg back on the bed, and you were about to pull your hand away from your face, but when Gojo started on the second one, you pressed your palm back with such force that you nearly evened the bridge of your nose with your eyes. 
He'd never thought or suspected that such a thing existed - that he could touch a person so easily, and even when he touched the affected areas of they skin, he wouldn't be disgusted. On the contrary, Gojo wished you had at least two more of them on your feet. 
You heard a smack. "What the hell?"
"A mosquito," he mumbled, rubbing his sore cheek and shaking his head as if to ward off that stupid thought in the form of that imaginary mosquito. "Uh, well...," he said quietly, slowly running his fingers down your calves from bottom to top, admiring the result. "I think that's it," despite the finished work, his palms, as if enchanted, couldn't get away from you.
Soft touches that dulled or took away all the pain, from blisters to days in the cold, godforsaken wasteland. You never knew that touches could be that gentle, and they could be like that fictitious pill that cured every disease - from slight to severe, from physical to mental, but no one had warned you about the side effects. Breathing became difficult, your lungs ached. 
The more he touched you, the quieter the days he spent in your workroom in the clutches of loneliness and agonizing waiting seemed. He could feel all the cold that had accumulated in you on his skin. He desperately tried to banish it with his hands. Neither curses, nor demons, nor the forces of nature dared to touch you – just him and him alone.
When Gojo's hands were under your kneecaps, you shrieked and jerked up, a sharp pain hitting your forehead. "Fuck," you whimpered, rubbing the sore spot and leaning back against the pillow.   
"Everyone in your family chooses violence, don't they?" he mumbled, and you immediately reacted to the sound, opening your eyes to find him sitting in front of you, his head tilted back and holding the bridge of his nose.
"God, I'm sorry!" you squeaked, but you didn't even have time to jump out of your seat, for he immediately plopped down beside you, throwing one arm over you, pinning you to the bed. "No blood? Lemme see," you rolled over onto your side in a way you regretted. Gojo's face was only a few inches away, and there wasn't even a hint of blood, though there was something red on his face. His cheeks. This state of affairs didn't suit him, so bringing his hand up to your face, he pinched your nose through your mask. "Hey, what for?" you muttered, sniffling quietly at the growing ticklish feeling.
"Wanted to," he snickered, and with a soft movement, he brushed the unruly strands of hair away from your face. Something tinkled, and you grabbed his arm. "Did ya get a new watch?" you asked, looking at it almost up close, not even noticing how his face was half sunk into the pillow in embarrassment, and Gojo was watching you with only one eye. You saw it, and that was enough for him. 
Hearing him mutter something in agreement under his breath, you hummed thoughtfully, which made him even more nervous. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"No, it's nothing," you kept looking at his wristwatch, but with a furrowed brow. "I just have a feeling I've seen them somewhere before."  
He pulled his hand away and hid it under the blanket. "Well!" he exclaimed. "That's a popular one, you know." 
Gojo didn't dare to ask you if you liked it, foolish though it was, for fear of causing your suspicions. Nevertheless, he hoped you thought it beautiful, for in his mind you were destined to wear them. "Um...," you muttered, averting your gaze. "Is there anything else I should know about?"
"No," he answered quietly but firmly. "Really. I won't hide anything from you ever again," he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand stroking your lower back as if he knew that was where you were hurting.
"Then ya can ask your question again."
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but when he realized what you meant, he smiled in a way that made him look ten years younger. Even though you'd never seen him as a teenager, you felt like that's what he looked like in that bygone and almost forgotten time. "Do you wanna be my best friend?"
"I wanna be your best friend."
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[June 1, 2020; 05:28am; hunters' hq, training field]
When it dawned, you realized what you had done. The entire area of grass in front of you had been torn up, but even that didn't make you spare the surviving blades of grass, and you glanced anxiously at your phone again. After you'd seen Kyle off, you sat down to wait for Rachel to return, but it was past five in the morning, and she was still gone.
What kept her so long? Knowing her character, you hoped she was all right, and memories of her combativeness turned your hope into faith. After all, you'd always thought that the more enemies she had around her, the stronger she'd become, but there was a rotten worm inside you, twisting and turning, reminding you that Rachel's fiery temper might someday fail her.
Unconsciously, you reached out to touch the grass and realized that all that was left was bare ground. You snorted irritably and moved a little to the side - there was still plenty of grass to torture, but as you reached out, you realized you couldn't see anything else.
You jumped to your feet and tried to open your eyes, but they closed back up as if in protest, trying to avoid the sharp pain. You turned from side to side, but you couldn't feel any danger, except for someone else's presence.
You rubbed your clenched eyelids with the back of your hands and tried to blink. You could see the silhouette, but more importantly, you could see a lock of red hair. It seemed you'd been thinking about something else, and you'd been so slow to catch the violet flash that you hadn't had time to cover your eyes, and you'd paid for it.
Wiping the tears from your lower eyelids, you tried to see your sister again. She was hobbling, her uniform cut and torn in places, and there was a huge laceration on her side. "Rach!" you alarmed, running closer to her. "Hey, hey," you picked up her falling head on your chest by the chin.
"Adoptee," she said softly, smiling with bloodstained teeth. "Ya alive, aren't ya?" your appearance seemed to give her a little strength - she smacked her forehead into the top of your head. "Ya've noticed too? There are too many loners," she gritted angrily through her teeth. "Look!" she raised her head and stared at you; there were tears in her eyes. "Look at that!" she sobbed, trying to reach her red tail with her hand and extend it in your direction. Part of it wasn't even cut off - it was torn off, like a bunch of old strings. "Look what those scums did to my hair!" she nervously and frantically tried to smooth her ponytail, but when she felt that all the strands were different lengths, she burst into tears. She didn't even seem to notice that there was some flesh missing from her side. "I'm gonna fucking kill 'em," she squeaked in a muffled voice. "And ya!" she tried to shove you away resentfully. "It's all 'cause of ya," she forced herself to say, wiping away nonstop tears with her hand. "If ya hadn't disappeared, I wouldn't be distracted by thoughts of ya, and none of this would be happening!"
You scooped her up by the waist, trying to stay out of the wound. "I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled guiltily, pulling her closer to the house. "Let's just go to the doc, 'kay?"   
"Shove your apologies up your ass," she bellowed, but her body went limp in your arms - it felt heavy, but despite her words, she still seemed to rely on you. 
***
You'd hoped that Rachel's injury would distract the doc for a while so he wouldn't harp on the fact that you should have stayed in the ward the whole time, and it had worked. Now you stood in front of the fridge, staring at the contents, trying to figure out what you could do to placate the big sister. Your stomach rumbled as you perused the bacon, shrimps, yogurt, and chocolate dragees. When you stopped your gaze at the fresh berries, you almost burst into tears. Maybe it was for the best that you couldn't eat them now - Rachel loved them, too.
You caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting down at the dinner table. "Hey."
You glanced over your shoulder and noted the dark hair sticking out in all directions. "Hey," you greeted Megumi cheerfully. "Can't sleep?"
"Just used to getting up early," he said, shrugging indifferently. "Y/N?" he turned to you after a brief silence.
"Yeah?" you hummed, pulling out a package of berries.
"I... Um, I overheard that you found a settlement," he began awkwardly. You closed the refrigerator door abruptly - Megumi shuddered. You stopped in front of the boy, staring straight into his eyes. "I-I just thought, since I happen to be able to enter the void as well, maybe...," he fidgeted in his chair, trying to look away from you, but the bonds of your gaze were so strong that even a hunting knife wouldn't do the trick. "Maybe I can help you-"
"No," you replied sharply and headed for the infirmary door.
There was a rustling sound behind you and the sudden creaking of a chair. "I just wanna help. By taking me, you can carry more supplies for the people there," when you turned around, he was staring at the floor, but his fists were clenched. "I passed the isolation easily. Doesn't that prove I'm worth something?"  
"It was an accident," you replied coldly.
"Whatever," he went on stubbornly. "Even so, but doesn't that mean I'm worthy?"
You grinned sarcastically, squinting your eyes. "Worthy of what? Getting kicked around in the cold wasteland? Such an honor."
"Saving people," he whispered and finally looked at you, and in his eyes lurked the answer.
"Megumi, what are ya talking about?" you worriedly said. "Ya're already saving them-"
A chuckle or a sob escaped his lips. "Really? How many people did I save while Sukuna was walking around in my body?"
The answer was voiced, but you remained adamant. "I got ya, but ya're still a teenager and there's still a lot ya can accomplish. Ya'll still have time to make things right. So... No. Sorry, but no," hoping that would be enough, you tried to walk away again - both from the boy and the conversation.
Megumi knew what he was doing was dirty, but he realized there was nothing else he could do. "Do you have the right to refuse?" Megumi's voice was firm. "You're supposed to train anyone who asks. You have an obligation," he was still drilling his gaze into your back. "Am I wrong? There are only four of you left," what a miracle - the firm voice suddenly trembled.
What a familiar song. What a familiar, annoying, ear-splitting song. Your nostrils must have flared at that tone. Or the truth that had just burned your ears. You turned around. Along with the boy, you saw his inner core. You stared at each other for a few more moments. Both of you stubborn as hell. "I should call him," you surrendered, reaching into your pocket.
"Don't," Megumi said almost pleadingly. "I wanna decide for myself this time."
"He's your guardian," you reminded him.
Megumi grinned bitterly. "His guardianship began and ended when he took me from the Zenin clan."
"Oh, really?" you inquired, arching an ironic eyebrow. "I take it food and clothes have been falling out of the sky for ya all this time?"
"You may be right," he nodded briefly. "But you can't say he loved me much."
"And ya?" you nodded defiantly toward the boy. "Did ya love him much?" Megumi looked at you perplexed as if you were speaking to him in a foreign language. He opened his mouth but didn't say a word, and with a shake of his head, he immediately closed it back up. "Okay, well...," you scrunched your forehead. "At six in the morning, I expect ya on the practice field. Ya'll run until you spit out your own lungs," your tone made Megumi shiver - as if the temperature in the room had plummeted. "And ya know what? Ya're already late," you barked before finally disappearing behind the infirmary doors.
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Ryan and Axel had already run away from you, and they'd done it so fast that they'd probably already made it around the Earth and back to the starting point, while you and Megumi had barely run about seven miles. Even such a run was hard on your recovering body, but it seemed to be harder on the boy as you glared at him from time to time. Sweat was pouring from Megumi's flushed face, and he was forgetting how to breathe properly for such exertion. Something was crunching. Maybe it was the branches under your feet, or maybe it was your knees.
You always tried to find solace in those jogs through the forest, but not now, you were worried about Megumi. Did he take your words so seriously? He was clearly unwell. His legs had already buckled for the fifth time. "Hey," you called out to him quietly. "I've got a calf cramp, let's take a little break," you said, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and your side with the other, trying to catch your breath. He nodded silently, and you moved off the path a little, sitting down by the roots of one of the trees. "Thirsty?" you asked courteously, taking your backpack off your shoulders.
"Yeah," Megumi replied on an exhale. He'd been trying to hold back his own inhalations and exhalations the whole time, so that you wouldn't hear that he'd been crying inside for the last two miles, but he'd only trapped himself more - the lack of oxygen made his body protest harder, and his vision began to darken.
Megumi took the bottle from your hands and took a couple sips, trying not to be greedy. "Now, time for a little breathing exercise," you chirped, taking a seat across from him. "Come on, right with the noise. Inhale," you sucked in air so loudly and forcefully that you scared away a squirrel that had snuck up and was interested in you. When Megumi repeated after you, you exhaled just as much, expecting him to repeat after you.
After doing this a few more times, you noticed that Megumi was feeling better - though he was still glistening with sweat, the redness on his face was starting to fade. "There ya go," you said enthusiastically, sitting down next to him again. "Much better, wouldn't ya say?" you nudged his shoulder softly with yours.
Megumi twirled the water bottle in his hands thoughtfully. "I apologize for speaking to you like that," he said guiltily. "I just didn't know how else to affect you."
"It's fine," you replied indifferently, waving it away. "I just don't understand why ya'd wanna do that anyway."
"The cursed world gave me nothing," he lied, not even realizing he was lying. Sure, the cursed world had given him, and given him a lot, except that Megumi would probably give it all back for free. "And the desire to save people hasn't gone away, and most likely never will," he would no longer be able to plunge into the routine of ordinary life knowing the other side of it - dark and mysterious, as cruel as it is elusive to ordinary people.
These were the kind of people Megumi wanted to protect, wishing that they would never know what lurked behind that door without a doorknob.
"I just...," he began reservedly. "I just don't wanna feel helpless anymore, 'cause if I feel that way, how can I help others?" his restraint immediately broke along with his voice. "When Sukuna took over my body, I just wanted to die."
"I understand," you replied quietly, swallowing.
He smirked wistfully. "I'm sorry, but I doubt that. I remember everything. I was hurt. I was sick. And there was nothing I could do about it," he buried his face in his hands as if the past appeared from behind one of the trees, and it appeared in a most unpleasant guise.
"Let's do this," you said, slapping yourself on your legs. "I promise I'll train ya for a while, and in return, ya promise me to think less about all the bad things that have happened to ya. Deal?" you rubbed the top of his head affectionately.
"Deal," mumbled Megumi into his palms. "Only why 'for a while'? I can handle intense training too."
"You offered to help us," you pointed out. "Not to become a voidrunner."
"But-"
"Let's go home. Ya've had enough for today."
***
You'd already opened the door to the workroom, but you couldn't help but cast one last sympathetic glance at the boy. He was sluggishly shuffling his feet up the stairs, and his torso was as still as if it had been separated from his lower body - arms dangling tiredly along his body, his torso tilted, his head slumped against his chest. "Megumi," you called out to him, and Megumi stopped, though he didn't seem to find the energy to even turn in your direction. "I'll meet ya at the same place tomorrow morning at six," his head twitched, and you took it as a nod. You were about to leave him alone, but you remembered something. "Ya know, let's get together a little early, though," you shouted after him as he opened the door. "Come to my workroom at five, I need to take your measurements!" the door that slammed shut sharply only answered you.     
When you finally entered the workroom, you froze like a dumbfounded deer before lights. Gojo was standing across from you, equally motionless and looking at you questioningly. "Ya're back already?" you inquired softly, watching his hand with the towel frozen at the back of his head - it looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower. "I, uh...," you swallowed nervously. "I can explain everything." 
You flinched when he moved, so much so he had resembled a statue before. "Oh, come on," he smiled carelessly, stepping closer to you. You exhaled as Gojo walked past you. "I knew you were a thief, didn't I," his muffled voice came from the bathroom. Getting rid of the towel, he appeared before you again, but he didn't even glance in your direction. "So it was only a matter of time before you got to my students, too." 
You watched helplessly as he passed by you and moved farther and farther away, and the doubt that it wasn't just about the growing distance between you in the workroom clenched and sought to explode in your soul. "Aren't you angry?"
"Me?" asked Gojo carelessly over his shoulder in your direction. "Angry. I'm so angry," he laughed softly, and you sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully making your way around the room. "At myself."
You waited for him to pay attention to you, and when you caught his gaze, you patted the spot next to you. Gojo hesitantly approached, and you unconsciously reached out to him, so relieved when you realized the distance between you was gone. He gently picked up your palm and sat down next to you. "So...," he began, hesitating. "Megumi has both cursed and dark energy now? That's how a generation grows up," he grinned wistfully, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "That's what I wanted, isn't it? I wanted to raise a generation of strong sorcerers. The kind that would be on par with me. No, even stronger. So strong that one day they could leave me behind." 
"Why do ya say that?" you asked half-heartedly. "Why would they leave ya behind?"
"Why else do you think everyone needs me?" Gojo swallowed, looking at your intertwined hands. You were just now realizing how elaborate his ideas about human relationships were in his head, and if they were only there that would be half the problem, but something told you that there was a quiet but all-consuming chaos going on in his soul as well. "I screwed up even here, though. I was so consumed with realizing my own goal that I didn't even notice... No, rather, I forgot that my students were just kids. I was ready to kill anyone who would take their youth away from them, and I ended up taking it from them myself. I guess I really am a shitty teacher, so... Maybe Megumi would be better off with you," he unconsciously released your hand from his.
"Satoru, stop it," you commanded softly. "Ya are not your power. Ya're just a human being, and I think everyone realizes that."
"Oh, really?" snapped Gojo sarcastically. "You wanna say that if I didn't have this power, you'd let me strut around your workroom like this and you would put up with all my scattered stuff? Don't be ridiculous."
"But I've never seen your power," you whispered hurt. You'd heard rumors and stories like the ballads they write about heroes, but you'd only seen it once. In his fight with Sukuna, you'd only caught glimpses of tiny, evaporating drops of his power. Did he think you were holding on to something so ephemeral?
To be honest, he didn't think about it. He couldn't think of any other reason why you'd accepted him and why you'd tolerated him. Staying true to his habits, he couldn't say the words of apology out loud, but he relied on the touches - with any luck, they would say it all for him. "Ya said Megumi would be better off with me," you said into the top of his white hair as his hands tentatively held your waist. "But ya're wrong. He'll be better off with us."
The word 'us' made Gojo think of you and the other hunters, and he didn't even dare to get in between in those thoughts, but when your hands closed around his back, it was like opening all those doors he'd never been able to open. Behind those doors was a bright light, so vivid it hurt his eyes. He had no choice but to stay on one side of the door and burn with his regrets and unfulfilled hopes in that desperate flame, or to step forward and let it burn to the ground, but  without him.
Gojo stepped through. Beyond that door was his future and it existed, it glowed, and it was right beside him.  
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allkordelia · 2 years
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Keep Me in Your Thoughts (1)
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[King's Landing - Heir's Tournament]
You held your dress as you walk down the steps and took a seat on the first row with the king and otto, your curly hair was pulled into a high bun with your white streak loose making you put it behind your ear. You held your child in your lap as you waited for this barbaric sport to start and be over with so you can go back to your chambers, you saw the knights lined up one by one as your eyes carry over them.
You tare your eyes away when the king stood tall and announced that his wife the queen has gone into labor, you along with your family clapped at the joyous knews even through you didn't feel any joy, he proclaimed the start of the tourney before taking his seat making you watch as the knights rode around the grounds as the man in red called their names and the house they served. The first person up was your cousin, boremund baratheon, and some new knight from dorne.
"Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of the Queen Who Never Was." You glared at the man for the unnecessary nickname he called your mother, you locked eyes with her making you gave her a look only for her to give you one back before she grabbed her flower crown and get up.
"You could have Baratheon's tongue for that." You heard otto say next to you.
"Tongues will not change the succession. Let them wag." The king replied, making you roll your eyes at him, the amount of times I heard him talk about how family is important and how should never be divided, he certainty have no care that his own flesh and blood was disrespected. What a hypocrite, you thought. You watch the exchanged between your mother and cousin as she wished him luck only for him to give her a impertinent answer, he glanced over at you as you gave him a void look while your eyes was slit with fire making him cowered away as he took his post.
"Mother! Who do you think will win?" You eldest son asked turning in his seat from the second row making you shrug one shoulder leaning in a bit.
"The dorinish lad. That's only because he looks fit unlike boremund who looks like he ate a whole goat..." you said with a slight smile as everyone in the box laugh including your sweet child on your lap.
"I have to agree with you on that one." The young boy said laughing before turning around to see the two knights, you sat back in your seat noticing viserys and otto looking at you before muttering.
"And if I'm lucky he eat dirt and maybe that would bring down a peg," Otto gave you an unamused look.
"Must you speak like that infront of the child." You rolled your eyes with your lower half of your face in your son's white curly hair before pulling away to look at Otto.
"It's not like I'm saying anything lethal, and if I did he wouldn't mind...wouldn't you my sweet seahorse." The young boy wasn't paying no mind to what his mother was saying as he watch boremund get knocked off his horse, this made you smile as you clapped along the others at the knight who did it.
As the dornish knight called Cole and Boremund make their way off the grounds drums sounded off as the crowds in the stands cheered when they see the one and only, prince daemon targaryen, you could see from your seat how he smile boastful as everyone cheered for him. His eyes looked up at the bo, to anyone else it looked like he was staring at his brother or his neice, but in reality he was looking at you making you stare back at him with an unamused look before he gave you a smug smile as he went and picked the knight he was going to joust. Your heart fell to your stomach when you saw daemon point his lance at gwayne, you held your child close to your chest as gwayne stepped forward you looked at alicent who turn to you worried making you give her a reassuring smile as you squeezed her shoulder in comfort. The young girl gave you small smile before turning around you could tell she was worried about her brother, and you can't blame her knowing daemon he won't show any mercy. As daemon took his post gwayne made his way towards the box, he took off his helmet and look up as he held his lance high.
"My lady Rhaelle. It would be an honor to ask for your favor..." Gwayne said, you smiled softly getting up with your flower crown in one hand while you held your son on your hip, you walked over putting the crown on his lance.
"I wish you much luck, ser gwayne." You smiled down at him, he bowed his head.
"Thank you, stepmother." You rolled your eyes at him as he gave you a cheeky smile before putting on his helmet and making his horse back up as you took your seat next to your husband again. You looked over at daemon who was watching the whole interactiong with a bitter look before he turned his attention to gwayne, you said a quick prayer in your head before hearing the horn and you watch anxiously as they changed each other in all honestly you didn't want neither man to be hurt. You flinch when gwayne got daemon in the chest causing otto to look relieved and placate, but that was short lived when daemon circled back and aimed for gwayne's horse leg. You covered you son's eyes as the horse flipped over crushing gwayne and injuring his face when his helmet fell off, you turned looking back down to see squires carrying gwayne away before removing your hand from your son's face as the people cheered for daemon and his ignoble action.
The tourney continued on like this for about another hour until you had enough violence for today, you decided to stand up with your son in your arms, making otto look at you as everyones else was watching the next competitors.
"Where are you going?" Otto asked looking up at you.
"I have grown a headache from all this noise, I will be returning to my chambers." Your son, Baelor, whined lowly at this choice before he spoke in a shy voice.
"No, mama I wish to watch the tourney." He said looking at you with a small frown as you gave him a look of pity.
"You can leave him with me, lady-wife. " Otto says, you glanced at him in surpised he usually doesn't like being left alone with the kids, so you conseplated on leaving baelor or not until the young boy started getting fussy making you rock him and press a tender kiss against his cheek before handing him over to his father.
You moved down a step looking at your childern and step-daughter telling them you be gone for a bit causing them to nod before looking back to the grounds, you held your dress as you walked up the steps to the entrance. You look back at your son seeing him smile and laugh as otto played with him, you looked away staring at the rest of your childern as they watch the tourney. Your eyes moved over to the grounds and over to daemon who looked up at the box again at you, he held eye contact with you for a split second before you turn and walked away not giving him a second thought.
You walk through the halls not feeling up to going to your chambers, so you ended up at the queen's chambers seeing all the female servants around the bed with the maester. You saw aemma twist and turn moaning in pain, when one of the servant girls went to get more water aemma saw you standing in the doorway.
"Rhaelle! My sweet girl...ah come...come here and hold...mmhm–hold my hand." Aemma called out weakly in pain making you grimace and slowly walk further into the room.
"How long has she been like this." You asked, standing by the queen's bed, her hand grasped your hand quickly and tightly making you scrunch up your face a bit as you look at the maester.
"A few hours..." he came closer moving towards you to whisper as you turned a bit to look at him, "...it seems the baby has been breach and it's not good, I'm sending someone to receive the king now." You sigh looking down at aemma as she laid there sweaty and pink in the face, one of the servants brought you a chair making you take a seat next to aemma as you held her hand.
"...rhaelle.." your head bowed when you looked up at aemma, "...I must tell you something–" your hands were holding her hand rubbing your thumb against her palm.
"Don't speak. Save your energy for the babe." Aemma shook her head before she could say what she wanted to say to you the king walked in with otto behind him, you looked at aemma squeezing her hand gently before moving aside for her husband to take your place you move to your own husband side while the maester, you, and otto watch the king and queen.
"How is she?" You glanced at Otto and gave him a disappointing sigh.
"Not good. She's in a lot of pain only pray that the gods have mercy...on both of them." You said, before you and the other two men looked away from one another to see the king walking up to three of ya.
"Aemma wishes to speak to you." He said solemnly looking at you with heartbroken expression, you nodded walking away from the man before walking by to aemma's side.
You took your seat again as the older woman turned her head weakly looking exhausted at you, "Rhaelle...my sweet cousin, my sweet girl." Aemma moved the back of her hand to graze your cheek you grabbed it linking your hands before planting a kiss on her knuckles.
"I am so sorry." You looked at her confused making you shake your head slightly.
"For what, my queen." You could see the pain and regret in her eyes as she stared at you with tears.
"I failed in protecting you...I was so tired of losing babe after babe that...I told him him..." your widen at what she was talking about when you looked at the servant girl who was standing on the other side pouring water into a glass, the servant glanced at you when she was finish with a look before walking away.
"Aemma. There's no need–" you started.
"No, I...I have to tell you this because I know I won't make it....not this time." You shook your head at her as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.
"You will make it. You will because you are a dragon, my sweet cousin. You are strong and you have fire in your veins." Aemma shook her head closing her eyes as tears slipped down her face, no matter how fucked up it was for what happened to you here you still couldn't hate aemma for what happened.
"I don't deserve you and you didn't deserve what happened to you, I'm so sorry..." aemma weep making you turn away in pain can't standing see her like this as you looked toward the maester and the others you heard mellos say something about the queen, your eyes caught otto before turning your head quickly before back at the queen.
"Aemma. I need you to listen to me very carefully...I need you to push." You knew what mellos was talking about with the king you heard the stories and you heard the malpractice the maesters did to those woman, you know that if she push there a chance she might live but there's a chance she might die but aleast it she will die quick and painless.
"Aemma. You need to push." She said hastily turning to see otto coming this way.
"...promise me. You look after rhaenyra, rhaelle."
"Aemma–"
"Promise me! Please, protect her from these vultures. Make her know shes not alone." You looked at her for moment before nodding.
"I promise...i promise I look after her but you need to push–" she cut short as otto pulled you away from the bed.
"Aemma! Let go of me. Aemma, push." Otto held your arm as he dragged you out, the last thing you saw was her giving you a small smile before viserys blocked your vision and you were out of the door.
"Unhand me." You snatched you arm from oot's grip and stood outside in the hall.
"You should return to the tourney–"
"No! I'm not leaving...you know this is wrong, otto." He looked at you with a ashamed look.
"The king has made his decision, now please return to the tourney–" his voice was cut off by aemma's screams, you look at the door in horror as your hands went to your stomach feeling sick.
"Rhaelle, please." You move towards the door as you heard her begging them to stop, otto caught your waist stopping you from going inside you struggled in his arms for but before there was a silence. You twist out of his hold and barged through the door, you almost threw up bile when you saw the scene in front of you. An unmoving aemma in pool of her own blood but that wasn't that made you sick it was the servants who was there to make her comfortable and look after her that were moving away after holding her arms and legs down, your eyes looked to viserys to see him holding his child he before turning to you and otto with teary smile.
"It's a boy." He spoke brokenly before looking down at the babe again, you stepped back in shock and disgust.
"Monsters." You croaked out, "...fucking monsters!" You snapped pushing past otto as you stalk out of the room.
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You looked down as you twisted the flower in your hand...the queen's favorite, moonbloom, it only grows in old town but the king have them send to the red keep every few weeks as a gift to the queen. You remember how her face will light up when she saw them at feasts as decorations on the tables or just around the castle, she would always say that it was viserys way of telling her how much he loved her. You thought it was sweet at the time, it sounded like something you would dream about when you were a little girl hoping that one day your future lord husband will do the same, but life had other plans. Cruel and unfair plans that cause you to resent the very people you trusted. You side eyed otto who bumped your shoulder with his own taking you out of your thoughts, you lifted your eyes up to him, look at you with a sorrow expression as he spoke in a low voice.
"Maybe you should say a few words, lady-wife." You gave him a look of uncertainty before you glanced around, rhaenyra was far away from her father with daemon amd alicent near her, you could still see the tears that slide down her face from your spot here, you turned your eyes to viserys who stood there like a ghost staring into nothing.
"No, I rather not." You crushed the flower in your hand as rhaenyra's dragon cremated the queen and the prince, you reopening your palm again as the wind blew the ashes of aemma and her son waft away to the sky like the petals in her hand.
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The night air was cool against your skin as you leaned against the stone rails outside your large balcony, the city of King's Landing looked peaceful and calm today not like last night. You turned your head into your chambers to check on baelor, who was under your covers with his thumb in his mouth, a small smile made its way onto your face as you walked back inside you took a seat on the edge of the bed as your fingers rake through his hair, it made you sad at times that he looks more like his father than you with his alabaster skin and silk white hair but he did have your nose and your soft eyes. You frown when you heard a knock on the door a feeling of dread sets in as you sat up the knock came again making you move off the bed, you took slow steps to the door before your hand rest on the knob making you slowly turn it and opened it a few centimeter wide.
"What is it?" You snapped.
"It seems like your special treatment here has made you forget how to address a prince." Your head snapped up to see daemon giving you a small smile, your shock evaporated into irritation.
"Belive me, cousin. There's no such thing as special treatment in this prison." You chide, a quick hum was his only response as he looked down at you.
"May I come in?" He asked, you looked at him for a minute.
"No." You closed the door only for him to stop you with his hand, you glare at him while he only smirked as he didn't need to use much strength to push open the door making you stumbled back.
You looked to your child to found them still sound asleep, you turned back to daemon to be blind sided by his lips you move your head back but he moved his hand behind your neck to keep you in place. You didn't realized he was steering you until you felt your legs hit the outside arm of the couch and felt his other hand pull up your nightgown you scratched his neck causing him to pull away from you, moving like a bat out hell you stood on the other end of the couch with your back to the balcony you watched daemon draw back his hand from his neck and smirk at you with lust in his eyes.
"You gotten feisty since I been away, I kinda like it." You gave him a hard glare as he came closer.
"You need to leave." You said stern as every step he took you took two steps back.
"But, I missed you so much, dear cousin." He held you trap against the wall making you push at his chest as his head leaned against yours before whispering, "And all I want now is to bury my face in your sweet cunt." His hand massage your breast through your thin nightgown, a moan broke free as your swollen breasts were sensitive as he played with them he left love bites on both sides of your neck.
"...no...daemon, not in here..." you clench your jaw trying to stop another moan from slipping out, daemon growled in your neck before bending his knees a bit before picking you up and carry you outside to the balcony. After, placing you on the banister he pecked your lips a few times before he kneeled in front of you, he pushed the gown up making you shiver at the cold air you moved your leg to rest on his shoulder as he kissed your inner thigh getting you wet.
You gasped slighly feeling his lips against your folds as if giving them a kiss before feeling his tongue swipe over your folds, you tilt your head up to the stars as daemon's warm tongue lick your cunt before his lips sucked on it making you roll your hips against his face while your hand grasped the back of his neck. His hand moved to your breast pinching your nipple causing a sharpe inhale at the overwhelming pleasure, you held on to the banister for dear life as you arch your back you fear if you leaned any further you might fall to your death. You jolt slightly feeling daemon's tongue explore your insides making you feel a bit dazed by the way his tongue work in devouring you, he had his arm over stomach keeping you still and from falling as you pulled his hair at the back of his head causing him to moan against your wet cunt. Your body erupted in goosebumps as he made you cum you let out soft hum as he continue to lick your folds and tender sweet spot, he finally pulled away his hand left your breast to your throat pulling you into a heated kiss while his fingers massage and circle your entrance before pushing in making a throaty moan against his lips.
"You still taste sweet." He mumbled against your lips your arms went around his neck pulling him closer, "...oh, how I missed your taste, your smell, your lips, your body..." His face move to the crook of your neck inhaling your scent as he crane his two fingers inside of you making you whimper at his touch.
"You have no idea how much I missed you." He mutters, leaving sloppy kisses on your cheek and jaw.
"Oh, how I missed your touch, daemon." You sighed blissfully as you started biting his neck leaving your own love bites around his neck.
"I can only imagine, my sweet qēlos. I wager all the gold in the kingdom that otto haven't been giving you the special attention you need with how needy you been acting since I walked in..." you pulled back looking at him your hands on his chest as he looked at you with his lips red and glistening in the moonlight while his hair was a mess and his face was flustered
"Why must you bring up his name in such a imtimate moment?" You asked.
"Why must you feel ashame when I do?" He ask back looking at you in question.
"I do not–"
"Do too." You scoffed, as his fingers slipped out of you when you pushed him slightly as you got off the banister.
"How can I be so foolish to think you came here to be with me–" you rolled your eyes turing away from him.
"I did–"
"But, yet here you are bringing up my husband while all I want to do is be with you," you turned back to him with a hurt and annoyed look, "...you should just leave the moment has past and I do not wish my child to wake up to found you here." You walked past him only him to grab your arm he looked inside his eyes going to the little boy in your bed.
"I saw him earlier at the tourney, you imagine my surpised when I was saw he doesn't have the similar streak in his hair like you or the similar green eyes like your other childern, why is that?" He asked turning his eyes back to you as you looked at him with a blank expression shrugging.
"I don't know, maybe my targaryen blood is getting stronger with each child I pop out."
"Or maybe my brother's seed finally gave him a son, pity that he can't put him on the iron throne though. " He gave you a fake pout making you clenched your jaw.
"That's a vile allegation." You snapped.
"Is it though because while away I heard some distasteful rumors about you, so tell me how long did it take for you to become my brother's whore after I left." You snatched your arm from his grip and push at his chest not moving him one bit.
"How dare you I would never–"
"Fuck my brother to benefit your husband?" You glared.
"You know nothing...and how could you after abandoning me here. " You hissed, daemon smile disappeared before looking away.
"I didn't abandoned you."
"Really? What do you call it when you up and leave out of nowhere with no explanation." He snap his eyes at you with a look that you couldn't cipher.
"I had to leave."
"Why?" You pushed wanting an explanation.
"Just know that I had to." He snapped making you purse your lip in a thin line.
" I had to leave you...after that night. I just had to leave, I knew if I didn't...you grow to hate me and I didn't want that." You looked up at him, before putting your hand on his chest where his heart was, he put his hands over yours looking down at you.
" I can never hate you," she sighed as he thumb rubbed the top of her hand, "whatever you thought could have happened to make me feel that way, couldn't be as bad as the pain my husband put me through these last few years."
"Than say the words and I will kill him. I'll make sure he suffer greatly and finally put a end to this miserable marriage." He said, daemon words made your heart flutter but you knew nothing good would come out of it and nothing can erase that sullied feeling inside you.
"And what than, daemon. " He step closer cuddling your cheeks in his hands.
"We'll marry and I'll take you as my second wife, your childern will have my name. We will live on dragonstone and raise our childern there." You looked into daemon's eyes and you similar words he told you long ago and remember how you swoon when you got back to your chambers, and he gave you hope you believed his words then like you do now. Daemon love you and you love him but you knew better, you took his hands and held them in front of you as you knew what you were about to say would break his heart.
"Your brother will never allow you to take another wife, and I fear the consequences that may take place if you do this..." you sigh with a small frown, "I feel the gods do not wish for us to be togther." He snatched his hand from your grasped as if you were a hot stone taking a step back from you making your heart ach.
"I'm sorry but it is true, if otto's dies I will just be sold off again like cattle to the next lord, it's not worth you getting in trouble." He huff through his nose, you could see he was growing angry and you know thats only because he doesn't want you to see him heartbroken.
"I'm giving you a escape. I'm giving you the life you truely deserve, and I'm willing to destroy my life and my relationship with my brother for you. Only for you to say no." He hissed out, you gave him a penitent look as you step closer only for him to move away and walk back into the room.
"Daemon, wait–" he caught your wrist after grabbing his arm you both stood in the hall just meters away from your chambers.
"No, if you want to continue living your life as a cum bearer for your husband go ahead I do not care," he roughly let go of your wrist making you hold it to your chest as you massage it, he stepped closer making you look up at him with regret.
"Issa dōna zaldrīzes darilaros, I did not mean to hurt you–" he cackled in your face making you close your mouth. My sweet dragon prince.
"Hurt me? Don't be stupid...you don't have that power over me...your nothing to me anymore." He look down at you as if you were least than him.
"I know that's not true....your just trying to hurt me," you said quietly, he looked at you for a moment as you stare into his lilac eyes seeing the storm you cause brewing inside.
"No, I mean ever single word of it, I see you for who you really are now, " you frown at his words, you turn your head away when he lean his face closer to yours, "A pathetic little girl with no real purpose except for laying on her back," he scoffed.
"what a waste of a evening. " He spat stalking away from you as you stare after him with tears, you sniffled wiping your face hearing your son call for you, you walk back inside closing the door as you tend to your youngest.
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Taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @beggarsnotchoosey
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shirozen · 6 months
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Clearing the mind with food
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emerxshiu · 6 months
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rat brainrot going hard
sorry for not posting this week, i was cooking some stuff but this drawing took almost the entire week to do, worst part, it was a shitpost
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i still dont know why this took me so much
so uh, almost all my drawings this week have been related to this two(and lis) so much so that i struggled because i wanted to draw other things so i would just stare at a blank sheet of paper for over half an hour, god that was torture, tho i dont mind drawing the sillies, sometimes it gets a bit boring drawing the same over and over y'know? im also going to take this as an opportunity to ramble about my forgo gijinka, because surprisingly i hadnt done that yet.
og image
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ok now to actually talk about the wet rat
ive tried doing a gijinka of em since i joined the fandom (my first gijinka was fecto elfilis (well not really they were fnaf, but i mean when i got into kirby and when i started using the term gijinka))
but most of the time it just looked like elfilin but like...evil, with a different ear and a hospital gown, thats it, so i barely drew them since i didnt like that, but on february, i actually sketched an idea that i liked, and thought it looked cute but a bit off (i mean off in a good way)
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(yes im posting this image again because i think its the best drawing of my forgo (im very inconsistent with my style ok))
they have their eyes closed most of time, like in game, i considered giving them legs but i ended up with the tail, since i didnt want to end up with like a fourth evil elfilin, the arms are like that so i can have em be small and weird like in the actual game, but i also made it so they can like change it, that way i can make em have hands and stuff if necessary (like to hold that frying pan for example)
not sure if a lot of you notice it but um, bro has no neck, i took away his neck privileges, i did it just to see but i ended up falling in love with that and stuck around, and also that allows me to draw them bending their head like in the drawing above because their neck isnt necking and i like that, i like being able to draw characters doing stuff that shouldnt be anatomically possible or is abnormal (i did something a bit similar with void) thair clothes are rugged because well forgotten land you know what i mean, but in general theyre actually pretty simple
i also did the drawing in digital
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i tried doing very sketchy lineart, i tried a new brush in this one and thats the one im using for my last drawings (not sure if anyone noticed the brush change) it was pain painting it because i did it all with the brush in the same size, not changing it, god did my hands hurt and it was a bad idea
i accidentaly downloaded the following 3 drawings twice lol
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sleepy zzzz
i think they would wear something like this to sleep, i dunno i just wanted to draw em in something cute, and sleepy, with elfilin slippers (the mug also has elfilin btw) oh and also i like changing their hair, here one of their long bangs is tied into a bow, kinda like callie from splatoon, i have some drawing im probably wont post, one more of forgo wich looks very much like the upper one but like eyes closed, and one of fecto elfilis gyaru because my sister asked me to draw them like that, bad thing is i didnt look up references on gyaru since i couldnt use my phone at the moment, i did like the hair i did for them in that one tho, they have their bangs tied up in a bun, and then left the rest loose, making it look longer than it actually is. i might redraw it, but actually looking up gyaru so i can make something more accurate, i like the style, but im not too informed on it
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elfilin being silly like a kitty :p
not much more to say on this, just sillines :3
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there is totally not a cropped drawing there
based on the kirby manga, where they make it so elfilis sings really bad, at first i didnt like it that much since i had imagined they'd sign great, but after i while i started to find it a bit cute so now its a headcanon, they like to sing but suck at it.
writing this just made me remember i wanted to do another drawing too for this with kirby and them singing, but i forgot to do it, im kinda tired (and its late) ill probably draw it, but for next post or another one
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tried drawing fecto forgo as a plushie, silly.
i wanna learn how to sew so i can make plushies of characters (like prince fluf!) but im way too lazy, i will get around it some day! (hopefully)
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elfilin too as a plush
i also wanna learn to sculpt, i tried doing a clay kirby once, but one his feet broke in half, and one day my mom put it in a box, and his eyes fell off and stuck to the box :(
i really wanna do figures for characters i like or dont have enough merch or my ocs (prince fluff, flamberge, fecto elfilis)
but as i said, im way too lazy and unmotivated, though its be nice, one day, maybe one day if i stop procrastinating
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it doesnt have the same ring to it as "feto rata mojada alien" wich is how my sister and i call them (she doesnt know that much about kirby, but i sometimes show her my drawings (reluctantly sometimes, but im the older so like >:) she has too if she wants to show me her stuff too))
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silly rat and wet rat, thats how i call em (because wet rat alien fetus is too long sometimes)
you can tell the brainrot was too strong (were near done(kinda))
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they gain a mouth whenever i fell like it very much
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artblock hit, and all the rest of pages i stared at them for 30 minutes
it felt weird looking at my fecto elfilis with the eyes so big, it looked off (in a weird way)
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dunno, tried drawing them in a different pose i i dunno really
i think these are from tuesday. i did more but those were oc (mostly splatoon) or other kirby character related, and i want this to be a rat post (might post those tommorow or another day maybe)
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i dunno (x2), i tried drawing elfilin like elfilis, i really liked the hands here. i still struggle a bit with anatomy but i think this was quite good for my usual character just stading looking at the front or a quarter profile. im considering making this into a fully digital drawing, what do i say by considering im actually doing that fuck it, i just think it looks kinda cool
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"This new creation, driven by pure chaos, was defeated by the bright light of Kirby's hope."
Chaos Elfilis reminds me of a moth. kirby's hope is a bright light.
you can see my thought process. i just thought itd be a bit cute and kinda silly and funny.
the kirby fandom wiki, said that chaos elfilis looked akin to a moth, and it just stuck with me, so i wanted my gijinka of them to be moth inspired, and thats when i saw just how cute moths are! i mean im still a bit scared of insects but at least now i kinda like em.
i feel like i need to say sorry to that one moth i desintegrated in a matter of seconds with a book because i thought it was an spider and didnt think (im so sorry little guy)
but ah yeah elfilis, moth, it made sense to me since chaos elfilis has the soul of morpho knight, who is a butterfly, and moths are kinda like butterflies too. and i thought itd be cute
so uh yeah i sometimes like making my chaos elfilis be a bit like a moth, that includes liking light, a lot, so uh kirby is like a lamp in here because i said so
now to talk about the desing since for some reason i hadnt earlier, as i said before, they are very moth inpired so uh im might say that word way too many times (im sorry i suck at explaining stuff)
their horns are thinner to resemble moth anntenae, and they curve just because i thought it look cool, and to differentiate it a bit from fecto elfilis. their bangs tie into a bun (i forgot to draw that but i dont wanna go and change it now, way too tiredv man and i still have to post this on other places) the bun looks a bit like an eye, because well, they are basically a soul boss, and moths have things in their wings that look like eyes, btw chaos elfilis doesnt have their wings here because i got lazy and i didnt want them to like cover most of the drawing. the things coming from their bun are like the trhee things theyve got in their head, theyre shaped like that to resemble insects legs a bit, fecto elfilis also had the 3 things (i dunno how to call em sorry) as their eyelashes, but chaos elfilis has just white eyelashes, because the bun already has the 3 things and because my morpho has white eyelashes so (i still havent done my morpho gijinka yet, i just know im gonna give the butterfly some white eyelashes cuz cute and pretty grimm reaper) the rest of the hair is shaped into like a ponytail but like, adn shaped, with whats left shaped like a lil moth
the waistband they have is a nod to morpho, they used to have a bow shaped just like the butterfly morpho appears as, but i took it out because i thought it crowded the design way too much, and also because it was too on the nose. the arms have those golden things because my fecto has it and because my og chaos elfilis gijinka had them so i wanted to bring it back, the hand fades into white because the red in the hand wasnt hard to distinguish so i came up with that to make it easier to see.
the red part of the pants are actually a bit fuzzy akin to a moth and the white part has those stripes to loke like insect stuff because y'know akin to a moth. the boots are like the red part in their legs their model in-game has, so i just made em tall boots, the high heels? originally it was platform just ike my fecto but then i wanted to draw them in high heels when i was slightly redoing chaos elfilis, and welp, i loved it and now theyve got high heels. those rings around the ankle are inspired by the ones leaongar has around their arm. also can you tell anatomy is not my strong suit? and that i dont draw high heels often?
i made a slight change in my kirby, making the sleeves be a different color, since the one he had before i felt was way too white, and i wanted to have more saturation in it
i also forgot but elfilin is supposed to wear that during forgotten land, and then i decided that after the anding of the main story he changes clothes, but i forgot about that while doing this so he has his pre-ending clothes (also because i still cant really decide on their second outfit for the post-game)
god im so tired i wanna talk and show more drawings but o shit im sweating why is it so hot in here
um thank you for reading all the unnecessary long rambles about why i do certain stuff in my gijinkas, i appreciate it a lot (im still sorry about writing walls upon walls of text but i just cant help it)
Jambuhbye! :D
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j0kers-light · 9 months
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I have this strange scene in my head where y/n is just laying down on the floor looking at the ceiling and J walks in on her just laying down and he ask “why are you on the floor” and she says “ cuz I can?”…
Idk if it’s weird but just a random thought 💗
Hey hi anon! 🖤✨
I love me a good random thought! Oh and ain't nothing weird in my corner of the internet😊 stay weird my beloved anon!
Without further ado, let's get into it! I do hope you enjoy!
Sometimes you just need a moment to think.
Your headphones played some instrumental music as you lay on the floor like a starfish. No lights were on, making the apartment appear deserted especially so late.
Joker came home early (at least by his standards) and he thought you would be asleep by now. You were a heavy sleeper so he wasn't too concerned with waking you up. He didn't stifle his footfalls as he locked the front door and walked into the living room.
He didn't see anything out of the ordinary; he thought you were asleep.
Mac invited everyone to play a round of games tonight and for once Joker was gonna participate.
J was gonna grab something to drink from the kitchen and hop on for a few hours or at least until you woke up so he could annoy you. He stepped further into the room and proceeded to trip.
Thankfully Joker caught his balance but he was beyond confused and a little embarrassed from almost falling. So he took it out on you. "What the... Y/n?! Why are you on the floor?"
You averted your gaze from the vaulted ceilings to stare at Joker.
You found J half on the chair, half on the floor staring at you as if you were in the wrong. He didn't say anything so you returned your focus back to the ceiling, all without saying a word.
He blinked in shock. Did you just ignore him?!
Joker snapped his finger to get your attention again. All you did was tap the side of your headphones twice to stop your music.
"Can I help you?" You sighed out.
He normally didn't repeat himself but tonight was turning out to be rather unusual. "Whyyyyy are you on the floor?"
You shrugged, "Cuz I can..?"
"But why in the dark, at--" Joker glanced at the clock across the room, "-- one in the morning? Ain't it past your bedtime Bunny?"
He slipped onto the floor and crawled over until he made it to your side. You were laying on the floor in the dark and people thought he was insane. Was something bothering you? Were you not feeling well?
Joker was going over a thousand scenarios which would have you willingly on the cold hard floor. He came up empty.
So he just flat out asked you. Again.
"Sometimes I just need a moment to think. The ceiling," You pointed up and Joker's gaze followed, "Helps me unravel my thoughts. "
".....but you okay Bun?" J asked.
He laid down next to you and copied your behavior. For a time he let the silence rest as he too stared at the ceiling. There was an.. appeal to it however he wondered just how long you've been here staring into the void. Wow your ceilings were high..
Joker side eyed before he hesitantly slipped his hand into yours. He grinned feeling your hand squeeze his.
Maybe it didn't exactly matter why you were down here. Any moment Joker could spend with you was fine in his book.
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lunastarhawk · 3 months
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The Southern Cross
Tides of Memories (Julian post-route series) - Part 25
I'm still working really hard on this 🥲 But a little disheartened ngl. Anyway.
Summary
Asra and Altheia seek Muriel's help in dispelling the terrifying shadowy echoes that haunt Julian's old clinic, remnants of Altheia's powerful magic from the past that threaten to drag her into the unstable void between realms. Julian continues his studies of the stars and comes closer to creating the talisman he needs, but when Altheia suffers a horrifying nightmare, they seek safe harbour together. And the ship gets a name.
Excerpt
Asra flagged down a carriage for the rest of the journey back to the palace.  Altheia noticed Selina staring out of the carriage window, hands clasped on her lap, brow very slightly furrowed and mouth pursed.  She all but jumped when Altheia leaned forward to rest a comforting hand on her knee.
“You okay?”
Selina nodded and smiled unconvincingly, but wilted at Altheia’s raised eyebrow.
“Your friend, he… mentioned the Count.”
“You heard that?”  Asra’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“His voice is, well…”  Selina cleared her throat, the fainted flush of pink rising to her cheeks.  “Rather deep.”
Altheia hid a smile behind her hand with a cough.
“It is,” Asra agreed with a faint smile.  But it faded as he gave Altheia the kind of glance that made her narrow her eyes at him, that she couldn’t quite read but which she knew meant he was hiding something.  Once upon a time, she would have accepted it, he was her master after all, a magician entitled to his secrets.  Not anymore.
“There’s nothing so interesting as something hidden,”  Julian had said.
“What about Lucio?” she asked, firmly holding Asra’s gaze.  
He ran his hand through his fluffy white curls.
“Not him exactly,” he said carefully.  “Muriel’s charms protect him from the shadows, the echoes.  He says the same magic repels them as repelled Lucio when he was a ghost.”
“When he was stuck between realms,” Altheia finished for him, quickly picking up on his meaning.  A cold, nauseating feeling sank into the pit of her stomach.  “The shadows that Selina sees, the ones we saw at the clinic that she had to banish to the void between realms… they’re connected to Lucio somehow?”
Asra grimaced.  “Not… not exactly.  I don’t think so.  I don’t know…”  He inhaled deeply and held his breath for a few beats before exhaling heavily, steadying his voice.  “I don’t have any reason to think that they’re directly connected to him.  Only that if those shadows from the void between realms can come into our world somehow, then so could he.”
“But he’s not between realms anymore,” Altheia said.  “We banished him in the Devil’s realm.”
“I know, I know.  It’s a ‘what if’.  That’s what Muriel was saying.  He could .  It’s possible.”
The thought that Lucio could come back sent an instinctive shiver down Altheia’s spine.  But as she turned the thought over, she realised that Lucio wasn’t a threat, even if he could somehow break free of the Devil’s realm.  He was entirely inept at magic.  His patron was bound and powerless.  And, more to the point, he didn’t have a body.
But just as Altheia opened her mouth to make those points, Selina whimpered and covered her face with her hands.
“Not again,” she whispered to herself.  “Not again, not him, not again, not his whispers, I can’t…”
Altheia and Asra looked at each other in horror as they each reached the same conclusion.  
“You saw him?” Altheia asked softly.  “When he was a ghost?”
Selina nodded.  Her fingers reached into her hair, pulled strands from the bun.
“I heard, more than saw,” she whispered, so softly that Altheia had to lean forward to hear her over the clatter of the carriage wheels.  “He wasn’t much more than a wisp, a shade.  Before I figured out the sigils to ward against him and… the others.”
“What did he say?” Asra asked.  When Altheia glared at him, he frowned and mouthed, “What?”
“That doesn’t matter.”  There wasn't any need to upset Selina further by making her speak anymore than she wanted to.  She leaned further forward and wrapped her fingers gently around Selina’s wrists, as she came to a realisation that hit her like a heavy weight.  “You knew him, didn’t you?  From when you were at the palace helping Julian.”
Selina hiccuped a sob and nodded.
“Yes.”
Altheia looked at Asra again.  “Did you know?”
She tried not to sound accusatory, because it didn’t matter if he knew or not.  Still, she felt a strange sense of relief when he shook his head.  In his eyes she saw the same desperate sorrow that she felt.
“Whenever Lucio called for me, Nadi or Ilya, he made sure no one else was there,” he said, his voice tight and bitter.  “I wouldn’t have seen her face besides, the doctors always wore those masks.  Ilya was very strict about that.”
Altheia closed her eyes and slipped her fingers into Selina’s closed palms, gently pulling her hands from her face.  She’d known that Asra and Julian had tended to Lucio, of course she had.  But she’d chosen not to dwell on it, not to let it in, not to think about what they might have suffered at Lucio’s hands.  Knowing that Lucio had forced Julian to eat a plague beetle, deliberately infect him with the deadly disease, was the worst of it.  But, she realised with a sickening horror, that wasn’t all of it.  
And now, it seemed Selina had suffered, too.  And for her it hadn’t ended with Lucio’s death.
Altheia channelled a warm, gentle stream of her magic, washed like a sunlit tide up over Selina’s hands to her wrists.  Altheia rubbed her thumbs over the veins there, felt the rapid pulse gradually begin to slow as Selina accepted the soothing touch.  
“You’ll be okay,” she said in as soft a voice as she could manage.  “I won’t leave you alone, I’ll ask Nadia to put us in rooms next to each other.”
Selina looked up, her eyes shimmering as a ghost of a sad smile pulled at her lips.  “Thank you.  Theo likes to sleep on the floor.”
“I know for a fact that Nadi has the best, most comfortable floor pillows anywhere,” Asra said with a broad smile.  “I bet Theo would love a pillow pile bed.”
“I’m sure he would.”  Selina held Altheia’s gaze with a grateful smile.  But as Altheia started to sit back, Selina gripped her hands with cold fingers.  A darkness came to her eyes, a stricken look to her expression, an urgency to the hiss of her voice when she spoke.  “Be careful, Altheia.  Please.  Please be careful.  I know they call you, but you have to ignore them.  Promise me, don’t listen, don’t go with them.”
“I won’t,” Altheia cut in, her tone reassuring though her smile faltered.  “I promise.”
She managed to maintain the smile as they both sat back, but an icy chill clutched at the base of her skull and ran down her spine out to the tip of each limb.  She thought of how, over the past three years, she’d felt a strange pull towards the Lazaret, how Asra once tried to take her but she’d collapsed; she thought of the vision of that dread hospital in the void portal that Selina had opened to banish the shadows, the compulsion she felt to follow them, their whispers .
She didn’t know what any of it meant.  But for the first time since they’d fought the Devil, she felt… scared.  A deep, primal fear that tugged at her very soul, cast her existence into question, brought to the fore that itchy feeling that she didn’t belong in her own skin.
Because she didn’t belong.  She knew it, Asra knew it, the echoes knew it.  Lucio knew it.
The rest is on AO3.
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