#every time i think about putting effort into making friends i get ill at the thought of them doing the same shit

[alchemyne]

i don't want to turn 25 rant in tags

[gamerwoman3d]

Personal in the tags.

[miya-rin]

“what the fuck do you two think youre doing?”

shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from suna’s lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. “come back later, we’re kinda busy.” the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.

“suna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.” osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.

“samu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?” that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.

“what the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?” atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is “so wrong”, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.

“listen, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didn’t mean anything,” sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, “i just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.” suna’s facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“no this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?”

“that’s different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?”

“excuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-“ you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.

“boys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.” your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.

“…fine,” atsumu mumbles, “but this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.” and with that he lightly tugs on osamu’s sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.

you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, “so, what do-“.

“did you really mean what you just said to them?” the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? “did you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?” his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.

“well i mean sort of yeah… ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.” the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.

“listen suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.”

“who cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.”

“you said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.” a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.

“i really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.”

“oh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.”

“mhm i absolutely have,” he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, “and i couldnt be happier.” he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3

[thelesbianpoirot]

The thing about BDSM/stripping/pornography/prostitution that I critique is not about what the sub/victim/penetrated wants. I don't care to shame the person with the abuse and rape fantasy. People from oppressed groups who hate themselves will seek out means of self destruction and humiliation. They are taught to. It is what society trained them to do. It is not surprising that many young women (and young gay men) run towards violent sex, plastic surgery, extreme piercing, extreme tattooing, prostitution and exploitation. What other group is taught to hate themselves more? What other group is more death seeking? I am not shocked the groups with the highest rates suicide attempts, eating disorder, lowest record self esteem, poor body image, mocked the most in media, have high murder and sexual assault rates hate themselves and seek lifestyles that reflect or perpetuate their own destruction. "Choke me daddy," the 14yr old writes on her social media page, and gets likes of people thinking she cool, hot and progressive. She knows there are people who want to do horrible things to her, and if she lets them, and "enjoys" it, that is the closest she will get to love, attention, and praise. She reads and masturbates to rape fantasies in fanfiction/dark romance books because she is aware of the place society wants her in and was a victim of their concerted efforts to normalize and even eroticize her submission and degradation. She is not a product of free choice and individualism. She is a good student of society's bigotry and hatred. Proof of free choice would be her having the highest standards, self preservation and dignity. That is what would make her stand out amongst her peers. That is what would buck tradition. I have grown up around poor black people my entirely life, and watched many people destroy their lives with drugs, gangs, getting pregnant by multiple men, and many other social ills. Many of these things were avoidable, I avoided them, a few of my friends did, I wondered why they hadn't. And it's after I grew up that I realize many of those people didn't think they were capable of doing anything else, or were deserving of any other kind of life. When the world hates you, makes a systematic effort to destroy you every day, you listen and begin destroying yourself too. In a way to pretend you have total control over your life at all times.

I will not argue with a sub/pornstar/stripper/prostitute that she should be ashamed of herself. She already is. She wouldn't be doing this if she were raised to care for and respect herself by a loving just society. I will argue that her abusive dom, the sex buyer, rapist, and director (person in power exploiting them) needs to be tried for crimes and put down like an animal.

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

[wandering-winchesters]

Who Did This To You?

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 4,077 (Oops) Summary: Sam and the reader are close friends, Dean on the other hand is kept at a distance. The reader has a boyfriend, who turns out to be abusive. What will happen when Dean finds out? Trigger Warnings: Mentions of domestic violence, bruises and brief mention of blood. Requested: No, just something I thought up. A/N: I am really happy with how this turned out, please let me know what you think. <3

Masterlist

I press the accelerator down further, hot tears brimming in my eyes, frantic to get back to the bunker. Back to safety and Sam. I need to talk to Sam, he always knows how to calm me down. My boyfriend, Chris and I had fought tonight and it had been bad, he had gotten in my face and screamed at me over the smallest thing. I put up with it for almost an hour, before I got up and left. What had started out as utter rage had slowly turned to gut wrenching sobs throughout the long drive home. I pull into the driveway for the bunker, parking next to the Impala and quickly making the walk from the car to the door. I unlock it quickly slipping inside, I kick my boots off at the front door and head to the kitchen hoping to find Sam. Much to my dismay, the face looking back at me is indeed not Sam, but the other Winchester, Dean. He looks up at me, his eyes searching my face and his brows drawing together when he notices my expression and the tears on my cheeks. I sniff, quickly wiping them away but it’s too late, he’s already seen them. 

“Where’s Sam?” I ask, drawing on every ounce of strength within in me to keep my wits about me for a few more minutes. Dean takes his time to answer, taking a sip from the beer he is holding as he studies me carefully. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, waiting anxiously for his reply. 

“He went out for a bit, said he needed to get out of the bunker. Can’t say I blame him.” He says, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth momentarily before taking another sip of his beer. I give Dean a short nod and mutter a thanks before turning on my heel, intent upon heading straight to my room but his voice stops me once again. 

“You’ve been crying.” He states, matter-of-factly. I freeze in my tracks, weighing my next options carefully. Why does he care? He’s seen me cry before and it hasn’t exactly made him kinder to me. I square my shoulders and turn around to face him once again, his eyes still locked on me. He looks as if he is carefully analyzing my every move, every breath I take and every word that I speak. He’s leaning against the counter top, one leg bent resting on the cabinet behind him. His arms crossed across his chest, supporting the hand that’s holding his beer. 

“Why do you care?” I ask, my voice a bit more volatile than I initially intended. I am too tired to put effort into being nice to him, a sentiment that he rarely ever gives to me. He is slightly taken aback by my words, a fact made obvious by the way he holds his hands up to the side, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

“Just thought you might want to talk about it, since Sam isn’t here.” He replies, his tone soft and gentle, something I’d never received from him before. It wasn’t like we were enemies or anything, but he didn’t particularly care for me and I shared the same sentiment about him. We butted heads over everything, he always tried to hold me back on hunts, making me feel incapable and inferior. 

“Ill be fine.” I mutter, moving to walk away once again, and once again he stops me his words cutting through me like a silver knife. 

“Did he hurt you?” He asks, his voice unreadable, but his face screams danger, depending on my answer. I look at him, my eyes searching his face for any explanation of where this was coming from, but he’s impassive other than anger. I don’t trust my voice, so I shake my head no. It wasn’t exactly a lie, he hadn’t physically hurt me, he didn’t need to his verbal threats were enough. 

“I’m just going to go to bed. Thanks anyways.” I say and he nods slightly but he’s not fooled. I turn and actually walk away this time and make it to my room before my tears start to fall again. I sit down on the edge of my bed pulling my phone out of my pocket, intending to send Sam a text, but I am distracted by the multiple messages flooding the screen. Beginning with anger and threats, before changing to apologies and begging for my forgiveness. I toss my phone onto the floor, too tired to deal with the nonsense tonight. The interaction with Dean replays in my head, his kindness strange and cause for reflection. It isn’t as if he was ever a complete asshole to me, but he was never fond of me. I had always been Sam’s friend and Dean just put up with my presence. Neither one of them ever intended for me to start hunting with them, it was a matter of wrong place wrong time. Sam and I had met in college and I went looking for him when he disappeared from classes, the week I found him happened to be when the yellow eyed demon came calling a few years ago, and I had stuck with them ever since. Intent upon learning everything I could about the supernatural. Sam had welcomed me in with open arms and Dean had been dragged along kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking. Well, mostly metaphorically, he did a lot of yelling. So the concern Dean had for me tonight, was well concerning. It was throwing me for a bit of a loop, curiosity sparking within me. Did he actually care about me and his disdain for me was just a front? No, surely not. I had been with them for three years and this was an utter first. I brush the thoughts aside and close my eyes, hoping that sleep will over take me. Hours later, it finally does. 

I wake to knocking on my door, I yell out a muffled come in, and Sam sticks his head in, his expression apologetic. 

“Hey sorry to wake you, I am about to head out but I wanted to check in on you before I do. Dean said you were upset and looking for me last night, you could’ve called me Y/N, I would have come back earlier.” I had sat up in bed to look at him and he had opened my door the rest of the way. I smiled softly at the tall man standing in front of me, his hair messy and the collar on his flannel offset. 

“Its okay Sammy, you have a good night out?” I ask and he grins sheepishly, nodding his head in response. 

“Yeah, actually, I met a girl at the bar. I am heading back to her place now actually. You doing okay?” He asks me, his smile contagious. I chuckle, shaking my head slightly, but smile back at him. 

“Yeah I am good, go get ‘em tiger.” He laughs at my response, and jogs off down the hallway yelling a see you later over his shoulder. He had forgotten to shut my door behind him, I sigh throwing my blankets to the side and standing up beside my bed. 

I stretch my body, groaning slightly as the tension in my shoulders works it way out. I throw on the jeans I had worn yesterday, before finding a new shirt to wear, I settle on my favorite green tee, a memento from my college years. I pick my phone up from the floor, scanning the mass of texts and calls all from one person. Before sending him a quick message,

8:33 A.M.  I’ll be over shortly, I just woke up. 

I take a deep breath and grab my keys from my dresser and head towards the entry to the bunker. Dean is in the kitchen again, this time making himself breakfast. He gives me a slight smile as I walk past him towards the door. I smile back but keep on my path to my boots, still left haphazardly by the door where I had tossed them last night. “Need breakfast?” Dean calls from the behind me, I look back over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway to the kitchen, skillet in one hand, towel in the other.

“Not hungry, thanks though. I’ll be back later!” I say, beginning to head out the door to the bunker. I hear him call out something along the lines of ‘be careful’ but I don’t stop to question it, our interaction from last night still weirding me out. 

In hindsight, I should’ve gone back inside this morning. Had breakfast with Dean and ignored Chris’ frenzy of messages. Going over his place this morning was probably the worst idea I have ever had, it hadn’t gone well, worse than I had ever imagined. His messages to me last night and this morning had me convinced that he would apologize for his actions and yet that is the farthest thing from what happened. By the time I had gotten there, he had switched from apologetic to angry again. Instead of his words, he let his fists do the talking. The first time catching me so off guard it knocked me off my feet successfully splitting my lip, the second time I had dodged his blow, stepping out of his reach and yelling at him to keep his hands off of me and trying to leave. But the third. The third landed square on my jaw, knocking me unconscious. 

I had come to from Chris shaking me and crying apologies. His touch sending waves of nausea through me, revolted by the thought of him. Glancing at my reflection in the surface of his coffee table I noticed the rapidly forming bruise. A mark that would serve as a vivid reminder of his actions and my inability of acting like a good, obedient girlfriend. Or so he said, after spending the morning accusing me of cheating on him with Sam. No matter what I said, it wasn’t enough to convince him that we were just friends and he had just lost it on me. I had left in a rush when he went to the bathroom, leaving everything but my phone and my keys behind on his couch. The ache in my body spurring me to move faster out of his place and into the safety of my car. The seconds it took me to get from his living room to the drivers seat, felt like an eternity. I had driven as fast as I dared back to the bunker, checking my rear view mirror constantly watching and waiting for him to appear behind me, but he didn’t. So here I sit, outside the bunker, debating the best way to get into my room without someone noticing the bruises still forming on my face. Not wanting the attention or, more likely the “I told you so’s” from Dean. I grabbed the hat from my passenger seat, tugging it low over my face. I rearrange my hair, framing it around my face in such a way that it covers as much of my jaw as it can. I take a deep breath and exit my vehicle, taking the few steps required into the bunker. 

I shut the door as quietly as I can, taking soft steps towards my room. I hope to make it into the safety and silence of my room without anyone noticing, I am not even sure who is home at this time but I don’t want to see either of them. I had nearly reached the safety of my space, but I head Dean’s door swing open behind me. 

“Y/N, you’re home sooner than I expected. Sam isn’t back yet.” He says and I freeze in my tracks, praying he doesn’t continue the conversation. 

“Okay, thanks!” I say, my voice coming out shrill and unsteady, the opposite of what I was trying to sound like. I hear him move to close his door, but he hesitates and I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. 

“What happened to your jeans? Why is there blood on them?” He asks, and I internally curse myself out for my stupidity. I had wiped my hand across my thigh after wiping the blood off my busted lip. I must have taken too long to give him an answer, because I hear him moving closer to me and I close my eyes waiting for the moment that I had hoped to avoid. “Y/N, look at me.” He says and I can feel him ever so close to me. I turn around, keeping my eyes trained on the ground and my face angled away from him. He reaches out and gently grabs my chin, pulling it towards him so he can see me. I bite my tongue to keep the slight gasp from slipping past, his touch on my bruised jaw causing a ripple of pain to travel throughout my nerves, but he notices and his touch lightens. The opposite of his face, his expression darkens, eyes traveling over my skin. His other hand comes up and pulls my baseball hat off my head, revealing all of the color spreading through my skin, reds and purples mainly at this point in time. 

“Who did this to you?” He growls, not waiting for a response his hand drops to my wrist and tugs me behind him. I follow his lead back towards the kitchen, when we get there he points to the counter muttering one word through his angry stupor, “Sit.” I don’t, but he doesn’t notice immediately, his attention turning to something else. He walks over to the freezer and digs out the ice packs that we kept frozen for any injuries that might surface. 

When he turns around, his eyes are trained on me, a scowl engrained in his features. He sets the icepack down, before he turns to me, grabs my waist and lifts me up onto the countertop. I am caught off guard by his actions, a gasp leaving my lips from his sudden movements. His hands on my hips the most amount of physical touch that has ever been shared between the two of us. 

I train my eyes to the floor, not daring to meet his gaze. He had stepped away again, digging through the cabinets for what I think is the first aid kit. I begin to let my thoughts wander, the dull ache in my jaw pulling me back to the moment that it happened. The pure evil hidden behind his eyes, the look of absolute enjoyment he had as he watched me struggle, his hands rough and violent against my body. But I am snapped back to reality by Dean’s gentle touch, his fingertips gingerly raising my chin to look at him. Tears are beginning to form in my eyes, adrenaline wearing off and emotion taking back over. I take a deep breath, hating the way my lip quivers, still dreading showing weakness to the older Winchester. He notices, he notices all of it, but he doesn’t say anything. He gently wipes away my tears and brings a cold cloth to my lip, cleaning up the cut from the first punch. I can feel anger radiating off of his skin, even though his touch is displaying the complete opposite. 

“Did Chris do this?” He asks, his attention moving from the split in my lip to the gash on my forehead. I hiss as he wipes it clean, an antiseptic wipe pinched between his fingers, he mutters a slight apology, but continues patching me up.

“Yeah, he did. He lost it on me this morning, over nothing. It’s my fault though, I ignored all of his messages after I came home last night, so he was angry.” Dean freezes, his fingers stilling on my skin. I look up at him, confused as to why he stopped and I notice his jaw is clenched so tight that it has to be painful. 

“Don’t ever say those words again, you hear me?” He locks his eyes on mine, fury absolutely radiating off of every inch of his body. “None of this, none, is your fault, you got it?” His words are sharp and pointed, his intent clear. I nod in response, he obviously didn’t want to hear anymore, got it. I would keep my mouth shut. 

He continues patching me up, before he stills, looking me over from head to toe once more. He hands me the ice-pack he had laid out and instructs me to keep it on my jaw. He turns his back to me and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. 

“Where does the fucker live?” He asks, his voice low and so calm that it scares me slightly. 

“Why Dean?” This is when he snaps, the anger that has been coursing through him coming out in one big tsunami of a wave, now that he knows I am okay. 

“Because I am going to go beat the absolute hell out of him, show him a bit of his own medicine.” He says, each word leaving his lips like a bullet leaving a gun. Dangerous and aimed at one specific target. 

I sit quietly, unsure how to respond. 

“Why? I didn’t think you’d care this much, figured-“ 

“Oh for fucks sake!” He interrupts me and I jump from the sheer volume of his voice, he walks back over to me and stands directly in between my knees, he rests his hands on my thighs and his eyes meet my own once again. 

“I have always cared about you Y/N, from that day you showed up at our motel. Your search for Sam finally at an end. I have watched you let men into your life that don’t give two shits about you, I have watched how they treated you and I have hated every single one. None of them deserve you, they are all pitiful excuses for boyfriends. I heard you crying to Sam, each time one of them broke your heart and I had to sit back and not do anything about it. You deserve more than anyone can give you, including myself. Which is why I never said anything, I kept you at a distance. I can’t do that anymore, I can’t keep watching you put yourself into these situations. God, if you hadn’t left, he could have killed you. Probably would have killed you, and then I never would have been able to tell you that I-, that I love you.” He says, his voice growing less angry after each word leaves his mouth. My brain is spinning by the end of his speech, his words swirling around my head making me dizzy. He squeezes my leg gently, causing me to snap back to reality once again. 

I blink at him, once, twice, three times before his words finally settle over me and I am completely speechless. I never saw this coming, I admit I have feelings for him, but I had pushed them so far away because of his hatred for me. 

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to say. I always thought you hated me, so I supressed my feelings for you, I dated other men because I thought you would never want anything to do with me. I’m sorry, that I hurt you. I love you too.” I whisper, my hands coming to rest on top of his. He tugs me towards him, his fingers digging into my hips and sliding me across the counter into his embrace. 

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry he did this to you. He will never lay a finger on you again, I promise.” He says, his voice barely registering because of how quiet he is speaking. I can hear how close he is to tears, but don’t mention it to him. I hug him back and relish the way his touch makes me feel. How safe I am in his presence, every fear melting away. 

I hear the door to the bunker open and Sam calls out a greeting. Dean pulls away from me slightly, but keeps his hand resting on my thigh. 

“In the kitchen Sammy.” He calls out, and gently squeezes my leg in reassurance. 

Sam rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking on my bruised face and anger quickly replaces the initial shock. 

I look away from him, shame creeping over me. I put myself into the situation and this was the outcome, now both of them are aware of what I got myself into and it is crashing down on me in waves. I hear Dean talking to Sam, explaining everything that had happened. By the end of it, both boys were rearing to go track him down and give him a taste of his own medicine, or worse. Little did we all know, they were about to get their chance and they wouldn’t even have to leave the bunker. 

A knock sounds at the door and Sam trails off mid sentence, glancing between Dean and myself, an obvious attempting at asking if we were expecting someone. Neither of us were, and suddenly it hit me. He’s here, he had followed me. My heart is in my throat, my breathing is heightened and shallow. My eyes meet Deans and he knows exactly what I am thinking. “Stay here, sweetheart. Sam, let’s go.” He says, giving me one last look before the two of them walk out of the room and towards the source of the incessant knocking. I don’t listen however, I slide down off the counter and hurry after them. Not wanting to be left alone and waiting to find out the outcome of this visit. Dean throws open the door to the bunker, immediately grabbing my now ex-boyfriend by the collar of his shirt and pushing him backwards away from the entrance. Sam is quick to step outside next to Dean, the boys creating a wall between me and Chris. Dean withholds the fury of his fist and issues quite a few colorful threats, instilling a healthy fear into Chris. He pulls him up by his shirt again and shoves him towards his car. They stand, watching him leave before turning and heading back into the bunker. Sam is quick to be by my side, pulling me into a hug. Apologies flying from his lips. I reassure him that I am okay, my eyes remaining locked on Dean. Hoping that the moment that we had shared wasn’t a one time thing, dying to once again be in his arms. 

I excuse myself from the two of them, heading to the bathroom to clear my head. I spend a few minutes in there, my hands gripping the edge of the sink. Taking breath, after breath, trying to pull myself together. The whirlwind of a day, completely blindsiding me. I open the door to the bathroom and scan the hallway, empty. I take a chance and cross the hall towards Dean’s room. Knocking on the door and being beckoned in by his voice on the other side of the door. 

I open the door and cross the threshold, closing the door quietly behind me. His eyes are on me immediately and I stare back at him, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. Four words hang heavy in my throat, fear of rejection constricting my voice. I clear my throat and finally utter the words I had been thinking. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I did, Y/N. I will always mean it.” He whispers, and that is all it takes for me to cross the room and throw my arms around him. He immediately hugs me back, tugging me as close to him as physically possible. His lips press against my forehead, sending shivers down my spine. The warmth his body provides is all consuming and like heaven on earth. A feeling that I had never had before, it was clear that this was where I was meant to be.

“I will always keep you safe Y/N, I promise you that. I love you.” Dean says, his lips brushing against my skin as he speaks. I knew he meant it with all of his heart and that was more than enough for me. 

[twstfanblog]

about your manwha AU before you had my curiosity now you have my attention, how will the three act now that they realized that Yuu was really important to them, will they try to become friends again, and will Yuu continue to ignore them? it would be funny if she ended up getting even closer to other characters like Vil, Idia and Leona and making the three jealous, because it's like that saying goes "you only value something when you lose it"

@iamsoconfusedallofthetime

Marina, you nearly got the three new playmates that Yuu gains once she's fully detached from the boys.

The first was Leona. His brother had brought him along for some type of fitting he was doing with Crewel, and he's left to wonder the estate. He finds Yuu reading in the home library. For a second, he didn't even realize who she was because, at this point, everyone thinks Yuu is deathly ill or already dead since she refuses to leave the house or accept visitors.

Leona feels connection with this fellow sad child and he offers his hand in friendship. They spend the rest of his visit reading together in the library (Leona told his brother he met a ghost once they were back in the carriage)

Mallues, hearing Yuu's befriended KINGSCHOLAR of all people, summons Leona to the palace to intimidate ask him questions about Yuu.

Leona, loving being superior to anyone and everyone is mocking Malleus through most of the visit.

Leona: Why should I stop spending time with my friend?

Malleus: Don't put yourself on the same level as her.

Leona: Why not? You don't even like her.

Malleus: Yes I do! We're friends!

Leona: Oh? I wasn't aware friends call each other 'aggravating pests'...

Malleus:

Idia is asked to be Yuu's study partner, and the Shrouds agree at lightning speed because they've been trying to socialize Idia more. Yuu is still kinda a bully, but she's more subdued than she normally would be, so Idia doesn't mind her so much. They even become pretty good friends.

Azul is also one of Idia’s playmates and loses his damn mind hearing that Idia is now friends with Yuu. He starts yelling, saying that Idia can't be friends with Yuu. Idia yells back, because he's actually MET Yuu now and she isn't this roaming figure of maliciousness that Azul made he out to be. Idia straight just says that Azul is a bad friend and he'd be sick of him too at this point.

Idia does apologize the next time they meet, he didn't mean to make him cry but he meant every word he said.

Since Yuu isn't answering Kalim's requests for playdates, his family sets him up with a new playmate in RIDDLE. (They're praying Riddle's attitude will rub off on Kalim. It does not). But while Riddle and Kalim have their playdates. Jamil listens to Riddle's attendants Ace and Deuce talk about how Riddle wasn't such a hardass at Yuu's house. So he drafts a letter and asks them to deliver it to Yuu next time they're at her house. It was literally just a simple letter apologizing and inviting Yuu back to the Asim house. He'll cook for her and Kalim, they can play restaurant.

They agree but the next time they come Riddle has to keep them both pulled back from causing a damn scene, they're trying to get at Jamil to punch him. Kalim asks why they're so mad and Riddle recounts that they tried to deliver a letter to Yuu from Jamil only for her to tell them to get out.

Jamil: I…I just wanted to talk to her… Riddle: Well, it's probably for the best you didn't.

Yuu ends up meeting Vil because during her break from society, Yuu actually does get pretty ill. In an effort to give her some at-home entertainment, they hire actors to perform in their home. And Vil is STRUGGLING to keep his character because a fever-delirious Yuu is yelling about how cool the villain is and cheering every time he does anything. He can't hold in his blush when he's 'defeated' and Yuu starts booing and saying how the villain should have won. Their relationship in this AU isn't so snippy as it is 'two sassy bitches giving you side eyes.' Vil says Yuu is his #1 Fan and he sends her free tickets to his shows in an effort to get her out of the house but she never goes.

Literally...for ten years, the trio only has second-hand info about Yuu because she hasn't been in the public. Unfortunately, the events of the OG timeline start fading. So when she does make the bold choice to re-enter society it's around the time the FL shows up.

[ilovebuckers5]

✧.*Not Friends pt 1*.✧

Paige Bueckers x reader

summary- Paige has a new secret admirer that she can't help but love.

word count- 2.2k

themes:

-drinking

-slight angst ig?

A/N- I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS FIC BRO. i have really high hopes for this so I'm praying that people enjoy it. I'm gonna try and make a masterlist soon so that its easy to find the different parts to this but we'll see. (i did not spell check btw m lazy)

I usually wasn't head over heels easily but it was very hard to not fall in love with the girl everyone wanted. Especially when you see her at the same party everyone said she wouldn't be at.

It was a couple months after i transferred to UConn and i had already gotten super close with some the girls off of the volleyball team and this girl Nika, who was on the basketball team.

It was a late night after one of Nika's games and she invited me back to her place that she shared with her team. Of course I said yes i mean Nika was practically my best friend. But this was going to be the first time that i meet her entire team other than Azzi and Inês.

While Nika was introducing me to the girls on the team i couldn't help but stare at a certain blonde that was lurking in the corner. Nika held onto my wrist and led me to her.

"Paaigeee, this is the new transfer!" Nika introduced me to the now more noticeably tall blonde.

"Hey i'm Paige" her attention was now on me. The way she held eye contact almost made me fold right on the spot. Her eyes were making me come out so hard i didn't even notice that she was holding her hand out for me to shake.

That night, Nika was going out with everyone to celebrate theyre win and everyone was begging me to at least tag along. Before i could think of an answer i pulled nika to the side and yanked her closer to me.

"Nika i cannot go with tonight. I think i like paige" Nikas eyes widened at my confession. "I don't think i'll be able to go to any parties if she'll be there. you know what'll end up happening if i get drunk around someone i have feelings for"

Nika may not have known me for long but she knew me long enough for me to tell her about what happened with my ex boyfriend at my old college. For a quick summary, i got drunk at a party while i was with my current boyfriend and there was a girl that my eyes couldn't stop staring at. We danced, we made out blah blah blah one thing led to another. My boyfriend dumped me and may have told the college that i was drinking underage so i got kicked out! anyways fuck him i needed to stay away from Paige if she was in the same room as alcohol if i wanted to keep my sanity and reputation clean.

Every time the girls went out i would want to go with but of course i had to ask if Paige would be there. Yes maybe i was taking things a little far but i didn't want anything crazy to happen and ruin my chances with her.

I was resting on my bed when someone knocked on my door. It was a Monday night and i was alone in my dorm so i it would be absurd for someone to come over this late at night. I stood up and opened the door to see Azzi Fudd, Paige's best friend, standing in front of me.

"K I'm gonna make this really quick cause i have to go soon, but don't be mad at Nika or anything Ok?" Azzi said with an enormous about of speed in her words.

I nodded before she continued on.

"Nika told me about the whole situation with Paige and she really wants you to come to the party tonight and Paige wont be there so could you get ready and go with please?"

I was a bit caught off guard, not mad but shocked. It only took me a couple seconds to decide that i would go.

"Sure ill go." i say dragging out my words with annoyance. I shut the door and Azzi leaves. As soon as she left, I started picking out an outfit and putting on some light but noticeable makeup.

Once i was ready, my hair was thrown into a messy sort of no effort but with effort look. I tossed on my jordans along with a tank top and some baggy jeans before leaving my dorm and pulling out my phone for directions.

I unlocked my car and headed towards the address, which was thankfully only 6 minutes away. After i pulled into the driveway i called Nika to let her know that i was there. She quickly ran out of the party and ran up to me. Her arms wrapped around me, hugging me tightly. I laughed a bit at her, clearly tipsy, hug. Finally after she let go of me she grabbed me by the waist and dragged me in. The first thing i could notice were the flashing light and loud music that was playing.

A sick feeling grew upon my stomach seeing and hearing everyone be so comfortable. I knew that it would be hard to go to a party with this many people and this much energy after so long but not this hard. Nika tugged on my waist trying to bring some sense of comfort for me. I quickly forced a smile on my lips and took the drink that was being shoved in my face by Aaliyah. Instead of dancing with most of the girls i decided to sit down at the booth that Caroline and Ice were sitting at. Caroline's mouth shaped into a soft smile as she patted the leather next to her, gesturing for me to sit next to her and Ice. I quickly sat myself next to the girls and tried to start small talk.

I noticed them glancing at each other while the three of us talked. It felt sort of like they felt off about me. I clenched my palms together under the table and blinked for longer periods of time. A deep sigh escaped my lips as they're conversation trailed off onto they're own topic. I quickly took down my drink and set he cup down before leaving the booth to find Nika.

"Nika? Can i go home?" i tried talking to Nika but she was too out of it to even process tat i was next to her. I took a couple more panicked breaths and walked around for a little searching for some other girl to give me a ride until i felt a strong grip against my hips. I didn't even care who it was but i knew they were trying to get something out of me and they weren't getting that.

My hands quickly pushed the hands off of my hips before i turned around to find a random girl standing above me. I thought she looked familiar but i couldn't tell who she was.

"I missed you" she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear but quiet enough to be hidden by the music.

what. the. fuck. who on earth is this girl? a confused expression was plastered on my face as i slowly backed away. still trying to forget about whatever that was, i made my way back over to Nika and continued to stay with her until i saw Caroline calling me back over to the booth.

"Hey, I got someone to come over and pick you up so don't worry about getting a ride from one of us. your gonna be fine Ok?" She could tell that i was stressed out. She helped me take a couple breaths before i even realized that she probably called someone that was a complete stranger to me. My breath began to pick up a bit more until she pointed to the door.

"Oh there she is." her hand was pointing to the direction of the same basketball player i did not want to be under the influence with. Paige Bueckers. My eyes widened at the sight of her tall figure. I tried to convince myself that Caroline was not pointing to the blonde that i was slowly falling in love with. I took a couple breaths and gave Caroline a quick 'thanks' glance and stood up. There were already a couple drinks in my system so i stumbled a bit walking over to Paige.

"You good there?" she held her arm out for me to grab onto. We walked back out to her car and she helped me in. i tried to stay quiet for the drive but i couldn't resist from making a little bit of conversation.

"so....why did Caroline call you to pick me up? we barely know each other" Paige kept her eyes on the road but it felt like everything was still.

"i don't know ask Caroline? i guess i was just the only person that wasn't drunk ya know?" she laughed a little then turns her head towards me for a second. I set down my purse on the floor of her car. I glance to the side and find a pair of lashes.

I made not have know Paige very well but i knew for a fact that she is not the girl to wear fake lashes. Which meant there was probably another girl in her car. It could've been recent or she could've just forgot about it before. Either way i started to think that i had a chance with her.

It was silent for a little bit until Paige turned on some music. It sounded like The Weeknd but i honestly couldn't tell the difference between the music and the conclusions i was jumping to in my head.

As the music filled up all the silence that was in the car i tried to distract myself by counting every time Abel said 'yeah' in one of his songs. Next thing i knew i was day dreaming about Paige while she was right next to me. The image of her making moves on me couldn't get out of my head. That's when i realized that we were finally at our destination. Except it wasn't the college campus. It was her apartment that she shared with the entire team. As far as i knew, the whole team was at the party so the entire apartment was empty until me and Paige walked in.

The entire place was pretty much clean except for a couple dishes and papers here and there. the only other time I've been in here was to meet the entire team and now here i was alone with the one girl i wanted to kiss since i met her. A couple chills ran down my spine as Paige tapped my back to get me to walk through the door. I guess i couldn't notice that i was just standing int he doorway staring at the living room.

The blonde put her keys on a little hook that was attached to the wall. I carried my purse around not knowing where to sit. I really thought i was being taken back to my own dorm. Guess not. Paige put a couple dishes in the sink to try and clean up a bit. As i stood there obliviously, she went down the hallway into her own room that im guessing she shared with Azzi.

"You coming?" paige called out from the hallway. I quickly rushed to her and went into her room. It was honestly messy but i kinda liked that she wasnt a clean freak. She sat down on her bed and kicked off her shoes. I couldnt help but stare at her features. Her blazing eyes. The way her nose hooked up. Her cheeks which were flushed with a light pink color, but i think thats because it was so hot in the car. And her lips were a brighter pink color. God how i wanted her lips against mine. It was hard to pull my eyes off her but when we looked at mine i quickly looked away.

Paige chuckled and leaned back on her bed. "come sit down" she motioned her hand next to her. I sat down on the empty space beside her. This was so awkward. I felt so out of place like Paige was forced to have me there. As i kept getting lost in my feelings i felt her hand push against my chest, dragging me to lay down in the same position as her. A gasp escaped my lips as she pushed me down but i kind of liked it. Now that we were right next to each other i felt a bit better and more comfortable.

There was only silence for a little while before Paige broke it. "do you like me?" It went silent again. I couldn't even process an answer let alone a reaction.

"what?no why would you think that?what?" i panicked and sat up quickly looking down at her. there was a smirk on her lips as she watched me panic. i guess i was making it obvious then.

Paige laughed a little and held onto my shoulder, pushing me down on the bed again. "its fine i swear. just try to keep this a secret k?" what did she mean by that?

I nodded and turned away to face the wall. "hey." Paige said softly. i turned back around to find her lips on mine.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Male! Archpriest x gn! Penpal! Ill! Reader

OOOH I've been waiting for this guy. He's been planned ever since the start, and I finally got to write him! Enjoy the convoluted world building between him and the other yandere men of Saphiri!

BTW: Liviticus has always been one of my beloved OCs with quite the lore, so forgive me if it did get a bit too confusing hshadad he is a priest, but I am not confining him to our existing religions of modern society. So it's up to you which religion, may it be made up or not, he is serving. I think this is also the first time i'm explicitly telling the physical appearance of the yandere? I don't remember. But yeah!

Yandere! God name: Liviticus

TW: Reader has cancer, death

BE WARNED, THIS IS LONG... LIKE MY LONGEST FIC.

Liviticus Obelia has always been a pious man.

He had everything in his life. Money, a loving family, anything he wanted, needed, and more.

With his extravagant life with his rich family, he had always thought that he should return the blessings he got to the people. But he doesn't know how though. First of all, he's an awkward man. He doesn't know how to interact that much due to being an introvert, and people avoid him quite a lot due to his Family's financial status being at the 1 percentile. Second, he had always thought that social aspects of society is not needed for people like him who is independently content with themselves.

Those words coming from the 10 year old Liviticus while sniffling from being rejected by a group of friends made his eldest sister, Koh, roll her eyes and pat him on the head, and his little sister, Kaoeia, giggle.

So, he found himself burying himself in books in the library his father owns.

Sure, there are more child friendly books there, but what got his attention was theology books about different religions.

He would religiously read all of them, immersing himself in the mythos of the gods he's reading on it. Even those of the olden and forgotten. His eyes would sparkle whenever he reads a book about them, maybe a holy scripture, and now, 15 years later, he graduated from his theology course.

Seeing as this was a good opportunity to now return the blessings he got from god, he enters the holy church of the religion of his choosing.

He takes the oath, and was quickly becoming a beloved member of the church.

With how genuine he is with helping people and "repenting" about having too much in his life, it's no wonder people and his fellow church personnel love him.

That, and his angelic looks was something that added to the his popularity.

With his long, ash golden hair that softly drapes on his shoulders like waterfalls, his eyelashes that almost looks white on his smooth skin, and his amber eyes that looks gold in the sunlight, he looks like an entity not of this world at all.

Everyone felt so compelled to rely on Liviticus. With his tall stature and strong build, added with his soft and understanding personality that will make even the most of the martyrs jealous, he exudes an almost godly energy in him.

He's genuine with helping too. He's that much of a good man.

That means, a lot of people wanted to be his romantic partner.

But when asked, he would just smile that partially blinded those who asked.

"I am not ready for that yet. I have devoted myself in serving the people right now."

Oh, how pious he is.

If they only knew.

Liviticus, is seen as a man who is extremely devoted to the religion he's serving.

With how he is and his high rank in the church, it is no doubt that he's a man of virtue and holiness.

It was true. He is a pious man. Someone who's serving his god/s with the full extent of his efforts, heart, and soul. He's also genuine with helping people and repenting on having too much.

But Liviticus was nothing short of just putting up a facade of devotion to god/s.

In reality, he's interested in religion, sure, but not in the devoted vision. He's someone who looks at every religion as entertainment. Just like how people treat Greek Mythology as stories, he looks at all of religions like that. No matter how widespread and popular it is.

Even the religion and church he's serving is nothing more than work to him and an obligation to serve.

He treats them as mere stories that fascinated a lot of people to the point of mass fascination. Was all of these true? Did all of these stories written in the holy scriptures of the religions he studied actually happen?

If they're fictional, how did it capture the heart of a lot of people? Did the author intend for it to be so big and so... Religious? How did they feel? Was the sensational occurrence changed something in them?

And, if they're actually real...

Then,

How can he be a god himself?

In a weird twist, Liviticus was so enamored with the godly figures in the religions he read that he wants to become one.

As unreasonable as it is, he doesn't care.

He's too in his head to think rationally.

So, him serving the people went from a genuine guilt to feeling like it's an obligation, a task to become a god. After all, he wants to be the helpful type of god.

In his mind, it was a practice in order to serve his future devotees.

The reason why he wants to be one?

Well, other than being an archpriest, he was an author beforehand.

He had created a world inside his high end laptop just like how normal fantasy authors have.

But in his case, he as an author, is a character in it. Nay, an active role inside of it as if the world is real.

He had created Saphiri. A world in which there's new currencies, new languages, new magic infused technology, entities, and of such.

Every single detail is well thought out. He even had different folders for different aspects. Like the languages folder has more folders containing new words, letters, and numbers. Magic? New runes and inspired elemental systems. Currencies? He has made a vector art of the coins and cash, and how it circulates between different countries.

He's too meticulous that it was almost unbelievable.

And his proofreader and the only other person who reads his works?

It's you.

Liviticus was rarely seen outside of the church grounds.

And if he was outside, it's usually to visit his family, or...

Liviticus sighed in content, reading the newest addition to his world. It was a person (not character. He hates that term) named Eros. He's still a child, but once he got your approval, he will work on Eros' upbringing.

The elevator dings, signaling that he reached his floor.

Once the doors opened, the smell of the sterile environment of the hospital lingers on his nose. He hears the nurses, doctors, patients and visitors alike walking and talking amongst themselves.

Thanks to his friend, who is the hospital chairperson here, Xavier allowed Liviticus to move you to one of the private suites.

You and Liviticus met when his family got a penpal for him. They saw how he's struggling with connecting to other people, and suggested penpals.

You were not that far, at least two cities away. And you're the same age as him too. That made it easier to connect with you.

Because apparently, he's shy when it comes to in person connection. He felt awkward staring into other people since he always felt a wall between them, let alone connecting with them. So, a penpal was more or less a cry of help.

And it worked amazingly. He liked you a lot since you love writing, albeit not in the theological sense like he was. You're an amazing writer, and has a keen eye when it comes to looking at plotholes. So, he regularly sends small drafts and manuscripts along with the letter with you.

You are patient with him, always treating him with kindness that he never felt from other people. Even when he's being rude and aloof, you patiently broke his walls down and now he's attached to you.

Being his only friend, he shared a lot of things to you. His desire to be god, the questions about religions, etc. He felt safe with you. You weren't judging him, and always answered his questions with a critical, neutral eye. Yet these replies still held the softness and friendliness he took comfort in.

Liviticus longed to see you in real life, but you weren't exactly as blessed financially as him. Sure, he's only two cities away, but your family didn't really want you going out and buying tickets or buying gas just to meet a penpal. He yearned to see your face finally, to see your face in real life and hold you close.

He wants you so bad that it's almost painful to breath. You were the only one who understood him. Even his family didn't understand him that much.

So, he took this yearning to another level.

Seeing that you were so nice to him, he decided to adapt your personality in real life. Gentle, kind, friendly... Someone who's easy to talk to and is incredibly patient and heartfelt. Helpful and genuine, Liviticus felt closer to you as he took your characteristics as his own. It felt like you were there with him.

And, years passed by...

Finishing his degree and finally having the time and permission of his family, he drove his newly bought car to your city just to find you.

His heart pounding, he found your address that you told him years ago, and saw you on the stairs of your home, sitting and writing something on your lap.

A letter. His letter.

He smiles and runs outside of his car to meet you, hugging you without any warning that freaked you out.

But, when you saw who he was, you grinned widely and hugged him back.

The rest is history...

But why is he in the hospital in present day, looking despondent while slapping his face to gather courage?

Two years within meeting you in real life, Liviticus regularly visited you. Spending time with you and getting to know you more in a personal level.

But, heated glances and affectionate gazes weren't lost. Both of you were two hearts beating in sync, as if the world intended the both of you to be together. It was a natural pull, and if the concept of soulmates were real, you were his, and he was yours.

A kiss on the lips on your birthday, Liviticus' mind slipped from trying to become god momentarily.

He's so happy just being by your side.

But then...

When he had to train to serve the church he chose, he had minimal contact with you. But, despite not having a label yet, he knew you would wait.

You would wait, right?

Then, one day, his phone rang. It felt weird, since it was already 3am, but he answered it.

He found himself feeling like heaven fell on him as the phone dropped to the floor, cracking the protector on it. He grabbed his coat and ran to his car to your house, almost violating road laws on the way.

You suddenly collapsed that night while trying to drink water. Your stomach felt so painful, like it was eating you inside out. You were so pale and white, and with a trembling body, you collapsed on your kitchen, being found by your mother who got startled awake.

When you were rushed to the hospital, you were found to have colon cancer.

It was almost too much for you, making you wonder what you did wrong to deserve such an ailment on your body.

And Liviticus felt like it was cruel. Too cruel.

You were so good and sweet, so why did you get such a dangerous and life threatening condition? And at such a late stage too?

Then and there, Liviticus truly questioned everything.

If god/the gods is/are real, then why were you being tested like this? You didn't do anything bad at all. You can't hurt a fly, so why hurt you?

Is this punishment due to him questioning their existence? Is this a cruel revenge due to him being preposterous and daring to be god? Is this an unfair judgement on a person that has nothing to do with him being unholy?

He might as well be swallowed by hell than seeing you cry your eyes out with such painful wails of agony.

He forced insisted on footing the bill. You and your family were adamant, but he insisted. His family was willing too, seeing as they had the money to spend and that you were also loved by them. And, you were transferred to his city to monitor you closely and closer to the best doctors out there.

He regularly visited you, always making sure to treat you like usual. Reading manuscripts and making you judge them. He tried to be cheerful. He really did.

But, seeing you getting weaker and weaker everyday was painful. You looked tired, but still carried a smile to comfort him as he kisses your hand.

And everyday, he got more and more desperate praying to gods to forgive him for being preposterous. He wants you to be healed, or even just transfer the sickness to him.

Anything at all.

He did all of these good things, and forgot his want to be god, just to appease those up above.

Suddenly, he became religious.

But it was not enough.

He numbly stands outside your door. The doctors and nurses were desperately trying to wake you up. But your limp body didn't respond at all.

You were dead.

Everything became a blur to him.

One thing, he's calling your family, then him consoling them, his family consoling him, then picking your coffin, and then now he's leading the funeral, blessing your coffin as you got buried in a mausoleum.

He only snapped out of his trance when he's kneeling in front of your grave, in the dead of the night, with only the moon and candles illuminating him. The wind was still, so was the night. It's as if letting him snap out of his mind.

His lips trembled, and in his priest garments, he shuffled close to your grave and hugged it, tears silently streamed down his face as he cried without a noise.

Everything felt so... Dull.

He did everything for the gods to forgive him, but they didn't. If they were real, then they would see his repentance, right?

But now, all he could do is weep. His heart torn apart as it got buried alongside you.

If you wish, he wants to be buried along you too.

Then, anger came.

Why can't they see it? Why can't they see that he's doing his best for them to forgive him? Why were you dead? You were innocent in all of this! You were only indulging his sins and was not directly mocking them! Is this his punishment? To break his heart this greatly?!

Is it not enough to shatter him, but you too?!

You had so much to live for! You were an excellent writer, and had plans to publish your book!

And...

"I.. I didn't even get to court you properly..." He wept, shakily taking a breath.

He pressed his sweaty forehead on your picture, tears still silently falling as he placed a chaste kiss on your face.

He got home that night, and left an email to the church that he's quitting.

He can't kept pretending to be okay.

Rotting in his bed on the days passed, he wished and longed to be in your arms again. To touch you, feel you once more.

Maybe, it will be a good idea to do something to distract him. You won't like it seeing him so miserable, and he needed to make you proud even if you were in the afterlife.

Trudging to his desk, his once Luscious ash blonde hair was dull, and his white eyelashes were permanently wet. His amber eyes dark and lost of sheen, he looked at the Saphiri folder in front of him before opening another document.

With shaky hands, he finally wrote his document. His role as god in that world.

He wrote in which he's someone who desired to be god to entertain his lover, y/n. He created this world solely for you, and just you. He wrote that he came from a world called Earth, and that is ascension to godhood was to see if he can meet you again. He wrote that he got transmigrated to this world, and had the godly powers like a worldbuilding author. And that he had more than enough power to pull your soul back to life in that world.

He finished writing by 4am, and he got to his bed with a small smile on his face.

Not knowing that what he wrote birthed to a world where he's ascended to godhood.

When he woke up, he's in an endless void of an opal sheen, and he was floating in the middle of it.

His heart pounded, looking down at his outfit.

A white cloth draped over him to look like a robe, and a gold anklet.

"Where am I?"

The void in front of him rippled, and he flinched before gasping.

A tear in front of him appeared, and it was overlooking a planet so green and blue, like earth but different...

Somehow, this felt natural.

He raised his hand and tried to "zoom in". And just as expected, the "screen" zoomed in, making him look over what seems like an old England inspired Empire, but he can see differences.

Magic.

In awe, he looked and watched as people and different types of creatures, familiar and new interacted with one another. He's beginning to be entertained until he heard the newspaper boy yell.

"Saphiri news! Saphiri news! The Crown Prince Yuno had a scandal! A mistress? What happens to his fiancee?!"

Saphiri?

His heart pounded as he tried to do something more.

"F-find Duke Eros."

And, in command, the screen flew up high and went to a majestic chateau.

There was a man, also in early 20's, talking with his soldiers with a frown on his face.

It is Saphiri. His creation.

He stumbled back, but only got to sit in a chair that materialized behind him.

"Oh god..." He muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

He did it. Godhood.

He became a god.

Not just any god, but the god of his own world.

He scoffs in disbelief, still in shock as he slowly internalized what's happening.

"No way..." He smirks, a bit excited, before remembering where the hell he was.

"Shit... Um, home?"

And indeed, another rip in the void happened. There's his room, just outside of the rip.

This was surreal.

He closed the void by running his hand down on the void.

He tried to remember what happened, but all he could remember now was...

"Y/n."

He gulped. He remembered writing down that he should have enough power to make you alive here.

So, he closed his eyes and puts his hand forward.

"Y/n, come back to my arms, please."

And slowly, light sprites danced around him, making his eyes shot up and look in wonder as it, your feet, materialized in front of him.

In an agonizing speed that drained his energy, he focused on bringing your soul to him. Sweat trickled his forehead as you appeared slowly, bit by bit.

And once you fully materialized, you fell down, making Liviticus catch you.

He caught the familiar whiff of the cologne you use, before you got admitted to the hospital. Your being overwhelmed his senses, as he found himself crying again.

"Y/-y/n?" He whispered, making you stir.

Oh god...

"Liviticus?" You whispered, eyes slowly blinking open.

He desperately hugged you tighter, sobbing loudly on your neck.

He missed you so bad.

"You're alive! Oh god you're alive..." He painfully said out, the hiccups making him seem like a lost child.

You were also in disbelief. You swore you died, but here you are, hugging Liviticus in a weird white robe. You wanted to question everything, but seeing Liviticus cry in your arms was enough to make you shut up and just sooth him, smiling and grateful to be alive. You weren't in pain anymore, and that's enough.

Liviticus explained the situation to you, and you were amazed. He became a god? And he revived you?

You felt so flustered and grateful once more. If it weren't for him, you're still dead. And, even if you were dead, you didn't get to thank him when he took care of you back in earth.

Speaking of, you tried to go back to Earth, but it's as if a barrier was placed when you tried to enter the rip. But you were satisfied here already, in this void with him.

Slowly, the void got filled with a small pocket dimension only the both of you knew. A light blue sky with a night and day cycle, cute creatures that both of you wrote about now came to life, a valley filled with familiar and new flora, and a small, cozy house on top of a hill.

It's as if you were watching a movie as you watch him affect Saphiri. He pulled a person from Earth and made him appear on the throne of the Emperor. He became Aeron.

You were shocked at the twists when Aeron became a Demon King, and be obsessed with his darling.

You also got invested in the love story of Duke Eros and his darling. The way both him and her curbstomped the shitty crown prince Yuno was amazing, and it made you hoot and holler like you're watching a soap opera.

And Callisto.

The fact that Liviticus made Callisto self aware was a twist you didn't expect, and after sending Callisto back, you tackled Liviticus and gushed about how insane it was.

Liviticus grinned, hugging you back and kissing your forehead.

He loves seeing you so happy and entertained.

But that's the thing.

Now, he's the one treating the world he created as if it was still a document on his computer. Forgetting they're real people that had lives of their own. And not just mere characters on paper.

He became the thing he detested back then.

Foolish gods who're just blindly putting unjust punishments for their own good, entertainment, or want.

Thousands of lives under this god who only has one goal, and it's to entertain naive you, who also shared his outlook that these people, this world is just something that they can mess with.

But who cares?

Liviticus is god.

And you were his deity, his soulmate.

You want to ruin Saphiri? Sure. Why not. Want it prosper? He'll do it.

The world is putty in his hands, and he's putty in yours.

So who is really in charge here?

But all you should know is that this omnipresent being is at your beck and call, so pull him closely. You don't know what he won't do for you.

Yandere! Male! Omnipresent! God x Reincarnated! Deity! gn! Reader

[rainswept]

you ask for Fontaine brain rot/reqs, I deliver.

So idk if you've done the recent archon quest and lyney/lynette story quest so if you haven;t be careful caus i will be spoling !

SO

That part where Lyney is freaking out over Freminet and Lynette had me SCREAMING especially since ive done their story quest AND ALSO FRIENDSHIP 10 LYNEY SO I HAVE THE LORE AND IT HURTS SM but I won't spoil all that for u-

so anyways, i started thinking, imagine Lyney has a lover who's been with the siblings for years (and also works for Arlecchino) and is considered another sibling by Lynette and Freminet. They were also diving with Freminet when they encountered water from the primordial sea

now imagine clorinde can only take one person with her at a time when she pulls them back, and she saves Freminet first, later going back for Lyney's s/o

Eventually Freminet wakes up like he does in the quest, but the reader just.. doesn't. Hours pass and the siblings are freaking tf out because they don't want to lose anyone.

(now I can't decide if I crave angst or if I want to comfort my babies so ill give my headcanons for both shiguegoe)

angst: Lyney's lover keeps deteriorating, parts of them gradually turning blue and quite literally withering away (caus you know the water and the dissapearances- yeah-) and the siblings can do nothing but watch

Lynette shuts down more frequently and for longer periods, not even saying anything to Lyney

Freminet blames himself for not noticing sooner, for not getting them out sooner

And then there's Lyney.. he blames himself for not only putting his siblings in danger, but losing his lover...

He sits by their bed watching as they wither away, holding their hand. He knows Father will be upset by his lack of comitment to the mission but he can't bring himself to care

The day they pass, no one says a word. They continue with their mission, report to Father, go on with their Fontainian lives until they're alone and they cry. they cry and scream and curse whatever archons or god's are listening.

AND NOW BEFORE I CRY THE HAPPIER VERSION

After days of not waking up, they finally open their eyes.

Lyney is fretting over them asking if they know where they are, who he is, what happened etc

now to throw in a tidbit of angst, what if they awoke with some disability? like they cant see anymore, they can't hear properly, cant walk properly etc

Lyney and Freminet would devasted because they blame themselves. Lynette would be quick to remind her brothers at least everyone is alive.

It'd be bad because with a disability, they can't work for Father anymore, or at least not the way they used to

AHHEOGUHEOG im stuck in a neverending brain rot my guy

Anyways. I was actually going to request for you to write your own take on this but you don't have to if you dont want- even just hearing your take would be nice lmao

also if its ok i reallly wanna be mutuals! I just found you blog and im obssesed!! I really wanna be friends<3

NO BECAUSE I SCREECHED SO LOUD MULTIPLE TIMES READING THIS !! THANK U SO MUCH YES OFC I WANNA BE MUTUALS/FRIENDS!! genuinely absolutely made my day to have u ask that oh my god??

also don’t worry about spoiling anything for me, i’ve read every little bit of lyney/lynette/freminet lore out there 😭 and i’ve done all of the new fontaine archon quests already (i need help. it’s okay though!)

as for angst — u know me so well already this is my forte. cracks knuckles here i go

freminet feels as if something is off.

already beginning to panic, he turns to you in a hurry. the water swishes in his ears. when you meet his gaze, wide-eyed, the gut ‘feeling’ turns into a full-blown punch to it. oh, now he realizes; he can’t breathe. his heart’s racing, chest tightening and throat feeling as if it’s closing up.

you reach out, and exchanging unspoken words, you two turn around and make to retrace your patterns with haste. hand in hand, you race against frittered time; but even your best efforts are not enough, and the both of you are forced to acknowledge it when freminet’s vision begins to turn spotty.

he got in the water first; he’s gone before you are. his body floats limp beside you as you drag him along through the water, even as the surroundings grow hazy for you, too. a cold tingle runs up your spine as you consider the possibility; is this the end?

(when you had left for the pipes, the most you had exchanged with lyney was a quick kiss on the cheek as a goodbye. that wouldn’t do.)

but even as you try desperately to cling to life .. the “sea” is a cruel thing, and it does not care for your mortal frivolities. (a proper goodbye? .. foolish.) with cold, disorienting water enveloping your senses from all sides, your only grounding thing being freminet’s (rapidly cooling) fingers against yours — it didn’t take long before you succumbed to the “sea”, too.

(your last thought as the world went dark was “i’m sorry.”)

(even in your barely conscious state, you feel another wave of panic surge through you when freminet’s fingers slip away from yours — but you don’t have enough energy to hold on.)

reader lives:

the incessant thrum of the water rushing through pipes rattled in your ears. your whole body was sore, weak and tired; and all of your limbs felt like lead attached to you via shoddy workmanship. your head hurt like hell, and what’s worse is that the moment you opened your eyes, you were immediately met with the sight of the three people you cherished most.

first, there was freminet, who was sitting on the bed opposite to yours. his posture fixes from a slouch into proper the moment he spots you, perhaps in.. excitement? shock? you weren’t sure. his eyes lit up, though.

second, there was lynette. she was .. a bit more on edge than usual. that was .. to be expected, of course, but really. you were out for.. what, an hour or two? come on, all four of you put yourselves in danger all the time. what was different about this?

(what was different was the fact that you were not out for an hour or two. no, make that days. they were sure to remind you of this.)

then, there was lyney. for him, the world seemed to stop.

lyney, who was pacing the room in sheer desperation. he walked and walked, boots timed and in tune with the clocks and dripping water from the pipes. in his nervousness, he had unwittingly created a quite fitting melody.

(the only sounds once he ceases walking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

lyney, who had rushed to your bedside the moment he had noticed you were up. he looked exhausted, but the second you were awake the mask was .. attempted .. to be put back on. however .. it didn’t take someone as observant as you, or even one who knew him so well, to notice that it was placed crooked.

(how absurd he looked, trying to put on a front everyone in the room knew was one.)

why, even, you would have bet that it could’ve been surmised by a child. once again, emphasis on ‘you would have’, for there was no time for thinking about that when he rushed to your bedside and enveloped you into an embrace. you didn’t miss the way his fingers grasped at the back of your shirt in downright desperation.

(in clear, bold letters, it reads; “if nothing else, please let this be real.”)

he slots himself beside you and, wordlessly, holds you close. he doesn’t need words — neither of you do. this is enough.

lynette and freminet looked on, neither of them opening their mouths when lyney buries his face into the crook of your neck and stays there for just a bit too long. he doesn’t cry. instead, he whispers shakily against your skin; “i thought i’d lost you.”

(the only sounds once he ceases speaking are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.

(no one speaks up just yet.)

(the only sounds in the room are the clocks and the water dripping from the pipes.)

(you’re starting to think those were the only sounds ever there.)

when he finally pulls away, you notice he’s fixed his mask. lyney now smiles, and the shake in his voice is gone; but you know it’s not all better, not when he refuses to leave the infirmary even after sigewinne and the traveler inquire. you know it’s not all better, not when the four of you are alone again. lyney sits beside you on the bed, refusing to so much as stand up (he doesn’t want to let go of your hand. you don’t comment on it, but his fingers are still shaky as he holds onto yours like they’re a lifeline.)

you don’t exchange as much as a single word after that. you just bask in each other’s presence, apologies and pleas and “i love you” shared during every lingering glance between everyone in the room.

the four of you don’t need words. this is enough.

reader dies:

seven mistakes went unnoticed. seven signs went unfollowed. seven things (and five people) went wrong that day.

one: freminet.

it was entirely freminet’s fault, he thinks, it was. if only he had gotten you out of there in time. no — he shouldn’t have even brought you. he sits on the infirmary bed opposite to yours, knees pulled up to his chest, and he clutches pers with a death grip. he dips his head in such a way that his face is hidden with his hair; he doesn’t want to let lyney and lynette see him in this state. they have enough to deal with.

two: the primordial sea.

but they were bound to notice eventually, right?

“it was entirely the primordial sea’s fault,” lynette would remind, hand on freminet’s shoulder. “it wasn’t yours.”

the primordial sea. the cold and vicious waters were such a contrast to those he held so dear; what was typically calming and merciful turned to something suffocating and terrifying. but that didn’t change the fact that it was an inanimate thing.

he drops pers at the contact; it clatters to the floor; he looks down, wide-eyed and apologetic; he reaches down to pick it up. lynette does not put her hand on his shoulder again.

three: wriothesley.

“it was entirely wriothesley’s fault,” lyney wants to scream. he’s frantic, pacing the infirmary and voice cracking every time he speaks. lynette and freminet have seldom seen him so panicked. he needs to do something, he needs— he can’t. he can’t leave. once he gets his hands on wriothesley, he swears he’ll—

four: clorinde.

it was entirely clorinde’s fault. it was entirely her choice to pick only one of you to save. no one can bring themselves to be upset at her, for she did try to save both of you. but the realization slowly dawns upon the three children of the house of the hearth still with a steady heartbeat; it was either going to be you or freminet.

they realize this at different times. every time they do, they exchange a silent, quick glance.

freminet would’ve gladly given up his life. lyney and lynette, however .. they would not have been able to choose.

five: the gods.

it was entirely the gods’ fault. curse the gods, lyney thinks. he’s still pacing the room, and while he never put much stock in the divine, he was practically yelling at them now. he knew it wasn’t logical. but he needed something. what was the point of a god if not to help their people? what was the point of a god if just to watch people suffer like it’s an opera?

was she here now? was she watching? was this a “twist” for her? did she delight in this?

six: lyney.

it was entirely lyney’s fault. he shouldn’t have let you or freminet go. he shouldn’t have. he shouldn’t have let wriothesley play him like he was a deck of cards in his hands. this was all his fault. all his fault. he knew of the prophecy, dedicated his whole life to it — and yet hadn’t managed to save you from its clutches?

seven: you.

in truth — it was no one’s fault. but lyney is still pacing the room, breathing getting heavier and more rapid every time he steals a glance at you. lynette’s eyes still trace his every move, conveniently ignoring the sight of you as best she could; and freminet still has his face buried in his knees as to not look at your decaying body.

none of them can deal with the fact that it was simply an accident. no one meant for this to happen — there was no one to blame.

they needed someone to blame.

so each and every one of them blamed themselves. as lyney’s fingers grasped your cold ones, he squeezed them softly even as they began to turn blue beneath his grasp. he couldn’t bare to let you go.

and after three long days, the sun rose to find your bed empty where you had laid. you were nowhere to be found. for a moment, lyney’s heart practically leapt out of his chest, wondering .. did you get up?

but as he rushes to the bedside, his face falls. he should’ve known not to get his hopes up.

the blankets were damp where you had laid, soaked with water just as the stage in the opera epiclese had been.

lyney didn’t cry, nor did lynette or freminet.

they didn’t exchange so much as a word the day you died.

instead, they put their aching hearts and empty souls into the mission at hand. they worked twice as hard to distract themselves, and they provided excellent results for “father” — but they had barely worked together to do so.

they exchanged cold words and they held each other at night, when the pain became too much — because as much as they tried to pretend like nothing happened, that was a lie, just as the rest of their existence — but there was no mistaking it. they were now divided.

there was always you. and now there wasn’t.

lynette was the one who informed “father” of your .. whereabouts. lyney couldn’t bring himself to.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine

[mothiir]

sorry to be that rehash that droid de suggondeez plotline (I REFUSE TO CORRECTLY SPELL FRENCH) with big e stealing a wife but could we pretttty ppLEAAAASE get some more mothiir? i am obsessed with the eldritch inhuman but human behaviour you write him with. it makes me want to chew on him while simultaneously wanting to beat him with a brick out of hatred. i have so many ideas. but ill take anything you offer up fr ill live off the scraps like a feral dog, its just that the the whole david and goliath vibe is TASTYYYY. please dignify my complete insanity for just an intsy winsy second because all i can imagine is how utterly FUCKED the stolenwife!reader's pov is. you try fight back a little too much? oh haha, ur so cute, but keep biting or scratching him and he'll sicc one of the custodes (or a few) to really try you out. let you be so overstimulated youre begging for something in you, and oh boy big e'll sooo do that dont worry. or maybe humble you by keeping you basically half bare like yeah not so cocky now LMFAO IM SO SORRY I NEVER GIVE PROMPTS SO BRAZENLY LIKE THIS BC IM A COWARD FULL OF SHAMEEE UR SO MUCH BRAVER THAN MEEE (thank you sm if you do or dont run with anything i spat out just then)

first of all, never apologise for requesting stuff and also i totally respect your disrespect of the French language. as an englishwoman i am contractually obligated to hate those frog-eating bastards (disclaimer: this is satire pls don’t cancel me). secondly i absolutely love your description of my interpretation of big e because it is also exactly how i feel about him. beat him with brick, pat hair, back to brick. I know i have moved away from that content but I still wave my emperor fucker flag and am always taking requests for him

i promise there will be actual coherent fic soon, but for now here is a bullet pointed list of the sort of things that guilliwife experiences (if there is one in particular you want a full fix of let me know):

the Emperor steals you, and does not think to tell Guilliman — why would he? He fucks you, enjoys it tremendously, then has to go and do some important Master of Mankind warp fuckery that means you spend about a fortnight in some random rooms with no one to talk to but the Custodes. And they barely talk! You never work out if they are bodyguards or prison guards, since you can’t imagine that you are important enough to warrant guarding, but you also don’t think that there is much effort needed to stop you escaping. Where would you even go?

It would be so much easier if he was always a selfish monster in bed — but he isn’t. Worse: he eats pussy exactly how you think a man with millennia of practice would. He likes bringing you to the very edge of orgasm and just stopping, pillowing his cheek on your stomach and watching as you whine and cry, partly with guilt and partly with sheer frustration. You end up begging him to fuck you, stumbling out every title you can think of — lord, emperor, sire, master — but his patience is limitless, and he can keep going for hours, until you’re completely insensible, promising every depraved thing if he will just stop teasing and put it in you

You belong to him. No one else is allowed to touch you — apart from valdor, one of his oldest friends and dearest allies. And captain Kytan. And a few other custodes. Sometimes at the same time. They’re extensions of his most absolutely not divine will — they can partake in the same luxuries he allows himself, otherwise what kind of a leader would he be? He likes seeing his best soldiers happy, especially when it’s because valdor is balls deep in your arse, while he enjoys the sweet warm stretch of your throat. You jostle and whimper between them, so full that you can barely breathe, and afterwards the emperor watches as valdor thumbs open your cheeks, just to watch your holes struggle to close up around the shape of his cock. Still, valdor can’t linger too long - there is already a line

He will cum inside you so much you swear your stomach bulges a little from it all. You have nightmares about popping like a balloon

eventually word reaches the Emperor that Guilliman is looking to speak to him as a matter of urgency — he is currently buried deep in your throat, enjoying the cute little gluck-gluck-gluck noises your gag reflex makes as you try to fit him all the way into your tight gullet. He does not ask you to stop this before answering the vox from a distraught Roboute, who is blathering about his fiancée going missing? The Emperor chuckles a little to himself, patting your hair — ah, having a woman to be wed and a woman in his bed, Roboute is far more like his father than first thought — wait. Ah. Singular woman. Singular. Shit.

[enbycrip]

I keep seeing and hearing things from friends and other folks I hugely respect who work in really *important* professions and areas of life - science, museums, art, education, care and nursing, medicine - beating themselves up as they are fucked around and treated badly. And one of the things I keep hearing is “I’m such a fool, I made a really stupid choice of career, I’m clearly not good enough for this”.

And I need to say this:

Mate, you did *not* make a bad decision re your career.

You made the decision based on your passion and ability for something that is *incredibly important*.

The fact that you did so in fucking end stage capitalism when industries, professions and areas of work we should be investing in heavily are being gutted because capitalism doesn’t value vital things is *not your fault*.

And trust me, as a person who has a pretty severe energy-limiting illness; it’s *not* a moral failure to be burned out. It’s actually a really normal human response to *things being hard* and being overwhelmed by things that are not your fault.

You are accomplishing things, and pretty awesome things at that. But it’s also worth bearing in mind that you actually have worth as a human that isn’t tied to a job or career, or to the art of whatever medium you produce, or in being smiley and upbeat for your mates.

*You matter regardless of what you produce.*

And every time that feels inadequate, or like an excuse, remember how much effort capitalism and capitalist institutions put into convincing you of that, and that these things are *your individual failures* and *not* systemic problems caused by social failures to value what actually matters in the world.

I sit here and tell myself this all the damn time because it was literally the only way to survive in a world that wants me to believe that my life as a disabled person with limited capacities and a lot of need for rest is meaningless, and that that fact is my own fault. I’m getting better at internalising it now, but it means it hurts even damn more when I see wonderful people who are doing important work being beaten up by the same things I was, and to an extent still am.

I also have to tell you; as a disabled person with a *very* limited ability for paid work, or for a huge amount of unpaid work I desperately want to do, it is *really* difficult to hear much more abled people denigrating their achievements that feel far far more than I will very likely ever be able to do.

Please do think about the impact your words have when you broadcast your internal self-loathing out there. There *will* be people you care about dying a little bit more inside every time you denigrate stuff you have achieved that they have been holding as a distant goal.

I am not trying to guilt anyone by saying this; I am saying it because hearing about how my internalised fatphobia and letting out my self-loathing over my relatively thin body was harming fat folk I cared about was one of the things that helped me get a good bit of the way over some crippling body image stuff.

Valuing yourself and what you actually do, are, and contribute is *hard* work, and it’s so worth doing.

It is not “losing your standards” or “becoming complacent” to recognise how much of what you struggle with is systemic and *not* your individual failures. It is realising the amount of work an unequal and abusive system puts in to stop people from resisting it and turning our energies from beating ourselves up in self-hatred to *working for change*.

[spaceyaceface]

Hatred - Safety Ch 2

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Dueling, very minor injury

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Chapter One

Also Available on AO3

Ominis had always prided himself in being able to read others’ emotions, despite his lack of sight. He could not see the expressions on people’s faces, but he could hear the subtle tones of their voices, the way their breathing changed when they tenses. He could feel the power and the passion coming off them like waves, and he had spent years tuning himself to understand it. 

That being said, it took almost no effort to know that Y/N’s feelings from that morning had not changed in the slightest. 

She was awfully short with her friend (Constance, was it?) whenever they spoke. Her breathing was deep in an effort to quell the anger flowing through her veins. He could feel her attention shifting to him, over and over again, as the class went on. 

He could feel himself getting more and more annoyed by it. 

There was nothing they could do at the moment—didn’t she see that? He wanted this over as soon as possible, but if he ditched classes and moped around, it would do nothing but put him in his parent’s bad graces. Being angry did nothing but raise your blood pressure and cause rash decisions to be made. Was it so impossible for her to put her emotions aside for a few hours?

He was being hypocritical—he recognized that. Every movement she made in her seat made his eye twitch. All he could think about her assumptions she had made of him, that he had wanted to rope her in some engagement. The thoughts floated around inside his head, making concentrating on anything but her a few seats away almost impossible. 

“You look like someone snapped your wand,” Sebastian said quietly as people broke into groups to practice spells. 

Ominis’s frown deepened, if it was even possible. “You’ll have to forgive me for being in a foul mood. I don’t think I’ll be shaking it any time soon.” 

Sebastian hummed. “She’s glaring at you. Again.” 

“You mean it hasn’t been one long, continuous glare?”

“No, she stopped for a moment to glare at something Constance said. But she got right back to it, don’t worry.” 

Ominis almost chuckled at that. “What is it that we’re even supposed to be doing? My mind was elsewhere.” 

“Changing the color of the cloth on our desk.” 

“Wonderful, I couldn’t imagine a more useful spell for the likes of me.” 

Sebastian laughed at that. The sound lessened Ominis’s dark mood a bit—it had been rarer to hear his dear friend’s laugh since Anne had fallen ill, and any chance there was so help him feel better was one worth taking. He was sorry that such misfortune had fallen to all the members of their trio this final school year. 

Anne’s absence was felt constantly. Over the years, Ominis had grown to think of her as his sister—she acted the role much better than his own older sister, Vidia, had ever done. Both she and Sebsatian had befriended him when he was afraid no one else would. He would forever be grateful for the Sallows who had so readily taken him in as one of their own. 

He sighed. He’d have to write to her. See what advice she could offer. Sebastian was always the most rash of their trio, acting on the first thought that came to his head. Ominis was often the opposite—reserved nearly to a fault. Anne was their middle ground, the level head who always considered all aspects. When he and Sebastian fought, she was able to calm them down enough to see sense and make up. Since she had gotten ill, Ominis and Sebastian had been doing their best to carry on. He knew that no matter what, they would remain like brothers, but it didn’t mean things weren’t difficult sometimes. 

He wondered if Anne would have been able to talk to Y/N. Sebastian had charm, yes, but Anne had the ability to wrap anyone she met around her finger—it was what had enabled her to get away with so much during her time in Hogwarts. If anyone had the capability to calm the beast that was Y/N Y/N, it would have been her. 

The rest of the class passed by without incident. Ominis practiced the charm very lazily, seeing as he would never have much use for it, and Sebastian neglected to practice at all, claiming he’d mastered it in his third year. It wasn’t long until the seventh year students were making their way over to Professor Hecate’s classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

Ominis sighed as they walked over, knowing he’d have to endure her glares in that class as well. He pulled out his wand to guide him, trying not to pay attention to her brooding a few steps ahead of him. Sebastian chattered on about some more advanced color-changing spells he’d studied a while back, and Ominis let his voice drown out the rest of the students around them. 

When they walked into class, Ominis realized immediately that this would be a practical lesson. The tables were all pushed aside, leaving a wide empty space to practice spells in the middle. Professor Hecate stood in front of them as they gathered around. 

“Welcome, students,” she began. “Today we’ll be learning a defensive spell. While some of you may think it less effective than other spells, I guarantee you in a duel, you’ll want every weapon in your arsenal. It has come in handy for me on more than one occasion.” 

She went on, explaining the Confundus Charm in detail—from her descriptions and the aid of his wand, Ominis was able to understand the motions, and listened carefully to her pronunciation. With his blindness, Ominis had come into the school with people expecting him to always be a few steps behind—he did all he could from his first day on to put that to rest. Say what they will about him or his family, but he wanted all to see he was a more than capable wizard. He had proven that throughout his years, catching on to spells quickly; often quicker than most in his year. 

Professor Hecate demonstrated the charm to them all (she did so by casting it on Duncan Hobhouse—this amused Ominis greatly) and then turned back to all of them. “I’ll now pair you off to practice the spell. Only Confundus, Protego, and Basic Cast, please.”

Ominis’s stomach dropped. His luck couldn’t be so horrible, could it? But as more and more names were called, names that were not his or hers, he felt the stress building within him. 

“Ominis Gaunt and Y/N L/N, if you would work together, please.” 

If there was such thing as a God, he must surely be laughing at his misery. He felt her angry presence approach him, and he stood straighter, trying to prepare himself for whatever might come. 

She didn’t say anything to him, just stood there as other students around them got to work, practicing the spell in makeshift duels. The silence annoyed him. 

“Let’s get this out of the way, then,” he said, spreading his feet a bit to give him the proper stance to duel. He heard her footsteps on the ground as she did the same. 

“Confundo,” she said lazily. The spell shot at him and he deflected easily, coming back with a basic cast. Once again, the spell bounced off the shield charm. Y/N made a low noise, almost like a growl. 

“What’s wrong with you?” she said, voice low but full of venom. “I thought you were upset. Why are you so calm?”

“Oh, I am upset,” Ominis replied. “I just don’t go about showing it off like a prefect’s badge. On the other hand, I’m surprised you’re not accusing me of telling Professor Hecate to set the two of us up.” 

“Confundo!”

He countered. He could practically hear her teeth grinding together, feeling the tension grow between them. That last spell had a bit more fire to it. She was starting to mean it. He was playing with fire, now—he should back down a bit. 

He cast Confundo back at her, and she whipped up her shield without a moment’s hesitation. She was a step closer now than she had been. “You’re a cold hearted prick,” she said, seething. 

His basic cast came at her a little more quickly than his last spells had. She just blocked it. “You know nothing about me,” he growled. 

“I know you’re a monster, set on causing pain for your pleasure, just like your family.” 

For the second time that day, Ominis found himself hearing nothing but his own blood pumping. She didn’t know what he’d been through. The regrets he had. He took out some of his hatred by throwing a spell to her—he wasn’t even sure what it was, but it didn’t matter. Her quick Protego kept it from reaching her. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing of,” he spat. “At least I’m not like you, so eager to please the rest of the world by making a sorry show of myself. You try so hard to run, but everyone still sees you as you are. Heir to a pureblood throne, just like me—” 

Most of the time, Ominis Gaunt was a man of restraint. He listened to that little voice in his head (the voice he was so keen on telling Sebastian he didn’t have) and stopped when it told him to. He knew where limits were, and how to stay away from them. He’d spent his life skirting around the edges. He knew he should stop now, before things got out of hand, before he did something he’d regret. But sometimes, sometimes, fury had a way of making that voice seem too quiet. 

“—dearest.” 

Any anger he had felt from her before had been a mere sample. He felt the magic in the air as she drew her arm back, preparing to direct it to him. It was electric—power and rage turned into one, matching the growl of her voice as she yelled, “Confringo!” 

But he’d had time to prepare. The moment that word had left his mouth, there was the instinct telling him to ready himself. His shield parted the flames that flew at him, the heat felt through it still. It was a truly masterful cast of the spell, one that Sebastian had to be jealous of. Just after the fire’s heat vanished, Ominis let his own spell fly, a powerful Depulso that sent her flying back. 

His wand lowered as he heard her fall to the ground, the realization hitting him. How had he let his rage drive him so far? She could be hurt, badly, he hadn’t meant to—

Some of his anxiety was quelled as he heard her getting back up, brushing away the hands and concerned voices that surrounded her. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I don’t need help, I’m not hurt, I—”

“What’s going on here?” Professor Hecate said, voice booming as she stood between the two of them. Y/N was back on her feet. “Did I not instruct you on not using other spells in your duels?” 

Neither of them spoke. Ominis was still too stunned from his own actions. She seemed to feel the same. There was no defense for either of them—they had put on quite the show. They had plenty of witnesses to describe what had happened. 

“Detention,” Professor Hecate said. “Tonight, for the both of you. You’re lucky no one was hurt.” 

Ominis could only stand there in silence, hearing the hushed whispers of the other students begin to swirl around him. He hardly heard Professor Hecate when she announced class was dismissed, the other seventh years leaving the classroom quickly. 

He should apologize. Make sure she was really alright. Let her know he hadn’t meant—he never intended to—

But she was already gone, having stormed out of the classroom the moment she’d been able to. 

- 

Her side ached where she had hit the ground, but she didn’t care. Constance kept pestering her even as she repeated that.

“You should just let Nurse Blainey check it out,” her blonde friend insisted. “What if it’s worse than you think?”

“I know what a bruise feels like, Constance,” she replied shortly. Constance narrowed her eyes at her, frowning deeply. 

That was Constance. Quick to protect, but quick to get offended, too. Y/N knew how to stay on her good side after years of friendship, a skill most hadn’t been able to grasp. The two of them made quite the pair—Y/N was a bit of an outcast. Not accepted by the Slytherins or other pureblood families because of her outspokenness against that culture, and not fully embraced by the others in the school, still a bit wary of her origins. People were nice enough to her, never accusing her of following in her family’s footsteps or viewing her as a danger, but… they still kept her at an arm’s length. It was difficult to make true friends, not just ones who’d chat kindly in class then never speak to her again outside of it.  

But that’s where Constance came in. The girl was so loyal, Y/N often found herself wondering how she wasn’t a Hufflepuff. Constance had her own trouble keeping friends; she had a bit of a reputation for being short with people, feeling as if she knew best. Y/N didn’t mind. What mattered to her was that she was there when no one else was, and she knew she’d be there to the end. 

At present, Y/N sighed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude to you. It’s just been… a long day.”

And it still wasn’t over. She wasn’t looking forward to her detention that night in the slightest—she’d already gotten the note from Professor Hecate, instructing both her and Gaunt to be in her classroom at eight o’clock sharp. She didn’t have much choice but to go, no matter how much she didn’t want to face the Slytherin again. 

“I know, it’s alright,” Constance replied, annoyance gone after her apology. “I still can’t believe he actually did that… if I’d had any say in all of this, I’d let you Depulso him right back.” Constance distinctly ignored the fact that Y/N had been the first to use an illegal spell in their duel, sticking firmly on her friend’s side. “He’s getting off of this much too easily. I bet he won’t even show up to detention—pull his little web of strings to get out of it.”

She sighed. “Honestly, I’d be just fine with that. Save me the trouble of seeing him again.” 

Constance grumbled a bit, something about unfair and stupid rich family. Y/N didn’t pay it much mind, simply grateful to have her by her side. 

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a blur. She was still angry, still frustrated about her situation, (and of course, with Ominis Gaunt) but the duel in Defense Against the Dark Arts reminded her she needed to keep a level head about all of it. What was it the infuriating boy had said? Showing it off like a prefect’s badge? She was determined to prove him wrong, and didn’t even look at him the remainder of the day. 

When eight o’clock finally rolled around, she trudged up to Professor Hecate’s classroom. She opened the door and frowned, seeing Gaunt stood just inside. Well, at least he was taking his punishment, and not backing out like a coward. She’d give him that much. 

Professor Hecate turned to both of them. “I’ll have you know that most professors would have given you detentions for at least a week—if you behave tonight, you’ll be left with just the one. Though you weren’t supposed to use those spells, I’ll grant that they were well cast. That deserves at least some merit.”

Y/N shifted on her feet, waiting for her instruction so they could get things over with. Professor Hecate led them over to her office, waving her wand to bring out high stacks of parchment. “Your task tonight is simple enough. I just need these alphabetized. It should be mundane enough to keep you out of trouble, I hope. I’ll leave you two to it and check back in an hour or so.”

After Professor Hecate left, Y/N plopped into a chair by the desk, starting immediately on the first stack. She told herself the hour would go quicker if she was absorbed in her task. Gaunt came to sit across from her, pulling out his wand to trace over the pages. She could help but glance up from time to time, wondering how exactly the magic worked. He’d first place his wand, and then his fingers would follow, brushing against the parchment. She’d seen him do it before in classes, of course, but it was a little different seeing him repeat the action again and again in front of her.

“I can feel you staring,” he said, shaking her out of her thoughts. She scowled, looking back down at the parchment she had in hand. 

Now that the silence had been broken once, it felt heavy as it laid over them. Still, she was determined that she had no need to end it. Gaunt seemed to feel differently. 

“I’m going to ask you something, and all I ask is you don’t try to set me on fire so we can avoid another detention.” No response. “Why do you despise me?”

She scoffed. “Really? You need to ask that? Was the letter I received this morning not reason enough?”

“It’s quite clear you hated me long before that letter. You just used to be more subtle about it.” 

She set down the page she was holding. “You, Ominis Gaunt, are everything I’ve ever tried to run from.” Her eyes shot up to look at him, seeing his frown deepen. “I suppose that’s one thing you got right about me. I’m no sorry coward like you, willing to give in and be driven by hate and prejudice. My parents admire your family—it’s disgusting to watch. My whole life, they’ve pushed me to be just like all of you.” Her face contorted to one of utter disgust. “I know all about you and your horrid family. Cursing Muggles and Muggleborns as if they’re not even human. Of all the pureblood lines, yours is the most rotten of all. If I could erase one blasted family from the face of the planet, it would be yours.” 

She wasn’t sure how she expected him to respond to that, but it wasn’t a quiet chuckle. Her face dropped her expression of disgust and turned to one of confusion, brows furrowed. “I see,” he said. “I figured as much. But I’d hoped after attending seven years of school together you’d have seen that the only person who hates my family more than you is myself.” 

Her jaw dropped. “You—what—”

“You’re right,” he said. “About all of it. The hate, the prejudice, the torture, even. What you’re wrong about is me agreeing with it. It disgusts me, just as it does you. Truly, the Gaunt family line is an abomination.”

“But… but you’re a Slytherin,” she said, head spinning at the revelation. 

“You really think I ever had a chance to be anything but, with his blood flowing in my veins?” He laughed bitterly. “And a Parslemouth, no less. I was doomed from the start.” 

She sat in silence, lost in thought. Was he telling the truth? Was he just trying to manipulate her, get into her good graces for… for whatever reason? She couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation. It was a several minutes later when he interrupted to quiet once again. 

“I am sorry, by the way,” he said softly. “I hope I didn’t cause you any pain or injury. I let my frustration get the best of me.” 

He… he was apologizing? In a single conversation, all of the assumptions and judgements she’d made about the boy in front of her were slowly crashing down. For so many years, she’d thought she’d had him pegged. He was the perfect heir, the Gaunt’s dear youngest son. She had never bothered to look further, to question it. It had always been her against him. 

But what if she’d gotten it wrong? What if they weren’t so different after all?

It was too big of a shift to take in all at once. Her head was spinning. What had he just been saying? Sorry—that was right. He was a Gaunt. He was supposed to be revealing in the pain he’d caused a blood-traitor. But he said sorry. 

“You…” She cleared her throat, willing her thoughts to come together to form a response. “It’s alright. I’m not hurt. I was the first one to cast Confringo at you, so…” 

Dear Merlin, was she apologizing back?

“I egged you on,” Gaunt said. “I usually know when to stop, but this whole engagement business has driven me out of my head. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.” 

She didn’t know what to say to that. They continued working, the only sound being the ruffle of pages, but most of the tension was gone. A while later, Professor Hecate came in to tell them they were free to go. They walked out of the classroom, toward the tower that held both of their common rooms in silence. He began to head down the stairs. Before she could stop herself, she called after him. 

“Gaunt.” 

He stopped, head tilting back a bit, an indication he was listening. 

“If you’re telling the truth about everything,” she started. “Which… which I hope you are, then I’m sorry, too.” 

A small smile crossed his lips. He didn’t say anything in response, just gave a bit of a nod and continued down the stairs.

-

Chapter 3

Taglist:

@phoenix666stuff

[silly-little-soul]

SDV Highschool AU

A/N - in celebration of my graduation today!!

Very rushed and not formatted properly cause I’m at prom rn and writing this on my phone I’ll fix it later but like i wanted to post sth for the occassion

-

Summary: sdv highschool au, the ones under the +++ are x reader

Characters: Harvey, Shane, Elliot, Haley (cause theyre my favs to write for)

Warnings: drug mention

~~~~~~~~~~~

HARVEY

- Big nerd

- He’s planning to study medicine so of course he puts accordingly much effort

- Awkward as fuck icl

- Everyone lowkey loves him cause he’s always really helpful

- Aka almost the entire class just copies his homework

- Lives off coffee in every life and scenario

- (One of the) best in class and beloved by the teachers but not annoying about it

- If y’all wanna act like there wasn’t any homework in front of the teacher cause no one did it (except him ofc bcs NERD) he’ll totally play along

- Which is probably why the whole reason it worked

- Some ppl def have a crush on him

- But he’s just so awkward and oblivious… I love him

- Also not rlly into the kind of dating that’s most common among teens? Does that make sense??

+++

- So for you, let’s say you’ve been his friend since forever, best friends perhaps

- He’s had a crush on you so long but has like no idea how to go about it

- And you think he’s not interested cause he has friendzoned you so hard multiple times before

- It was a panic reaction don’t blame him

- I can picture you coming together at sone school dance and it’s like really cliche

- I’ll make these longer later I’m sorry

-

SHANE

- stoner

- Like sorry but

- Maybe it’s my Connor Murphy obsession or maybe I’m right

- I’m basing this v much on mentally ill Shane ik that backstory only semi much works with a highschool setting but we dont rlly know abt pre mental illness shane so

- Generally not bad at school he just has intense down phases where he completely falls behind (relatable)

- Works at some fast food chain and hates it but yk money is money

- No one ever shows up for parent teacher talks bcs he doesnt want the school to know about his family and his family about school yk

- Quiet most of the time

- Mean when talked to

+++

- But also like he doesn’t rlly mean it with some people you just gotta po ker if he does for you and talk to him

- Good news: you’re very much an exception

- Phew

- I’m thinking forced project or something

- No actually I’m thinking one of you is the others dealer

- Probs starting as a kinda fwb thing that becomes serious

- There’s sm potential here icl

- I’m gonna rewrite all of this next week and get more into it

-

ELLIOT

- The weirdest kid in the grade but beloved by all

- Writes a lot, probably started a club that’s related to that somehow

- Wins a lot of those lil writing competitions schools do

- A romantic, hands out flowers or something to people on Valentine’s

- Like super mysterious and no one can tell if he does it on purpose or if it just kinda is like that

- Def has some ppl crushing on him

- Has been ppls secret admirer before

- Except it’s not rlly secret bcs who else would do allat

+++

- So when he falls for you it’s like that too

- You get mysterious letters and flowers from an admirer

- Except it’s not mysterious bcs Elliot everyone knows no one else does that!!!

- You pretend not to realize a while tho cause it’s sweet

- And then after a but you just give him a secret admirer letter back

- Even if it’s not quite as poetic as his

- He appreciates it sm cause it’s so rare people match his energy

- You’re couple goals but also lowkey make ppl sick with all your sap

-

HALEY

- Pretty popular

- She’s very confident and can be a bit brash so you might get the idea she’s a typical mean girl but she’s actually pretty sweet

- Especially with the girls

- You might get a comment about your messy makeup but best believe she’s fixing it up for you

- Girl in trouble? She’s right there without hesitation

- Has told so many of the guys off before for harassing girls or not taking a hint

- She’s a guardian angle ngl

- A whole bunch of people having a crush on her and it’s getting kinda rough

- If the person is respectful she’s really nice in rejecting them (or at least tries), she was mean about it like once and felt so bad after

- She knows she comes off as pretty harsh and it’s not always intentional yk

+++

- You probably meet through extra activities i forgot the name

- She gets a crush p quickly but like y’all wait till you rlly know you work as a duo before you dare ask her out

- Like you wanna have sth behind your question and what you say yk

- Okay i gotta stop writing but !!!!!! will fix this up and write more next week

- Also send requests or fandom talk please and thank you

[rubylovessharks]

Rook x gn!reader, reader is NOT the mc (you are 18 or else itll be kinda weird) im also bad at giving chars nicknames that fit the char that gave them so you all will have to live with "mon rival" :/ i was also using google to help me out with the language of flowers so it might be wrong??? but i really hope its not- either way you get the point i was trying to make. also ik rook'd write poems for his s/o / crush and all but i have NO IDEA how to write them- ill try to include the knowledge of poems in the next fic but im not writing one!!

you and rook have fallen inlove with Vil himself! yet he seems uninterested in any of you romantically..but then again Rook has been looking mighty fine these past few weeks...

Ever since the start of your first year in NRC you've been getting closer and closer to Vil Schoenheit, who has shown you much of his personality that many don't get to see. One day he has introduced you to a new friend of his at the time, Rook Hunt. An odd fellow but he doesn't seem that bad.

That is until you have figured out you had feelings for Vil, and not just any feelings. Romantic feelings. And it seems that a certain hunter has the same feelings for Vil as well....

So for the past year you and Rook have had a friendly rivalry competing for Vil's affection, even though he has been dismissing both of your efforts to court him none of you would ever give up, after all he never said 'no', has he? Whenever you'd send Vil a bouquet of pretty roses Rook always seems to bring him an even bigger, prettier bouquet of roses. Whenever Rook would surprise Vil with a tasty meal you'd bring him a new tastier dish. And so on and on both of your efforts would go until a few weeks ago....

"Mon Rival, I wish you a good morning and a wonderful day!" It was normal for Rook to wish you good mornings and such whenever he saw you, but he never did so with ...a bouquet of exactly 7 roses? Is he showing off that he's about to give that to Vil? But you notice that he hasn't moved at all, there he is in front of you, hand held out with said roses. "I do hope you'll take good care of them, after all i have made sure they'd grow as pretty as you are!"

Confused yet flattered you take the flowers in your hand and just stand there. Rook goes on about his day and leaves you to wonder what this was all about. After all a bouquet of roses is a weird thing to give to your rival that wants to win the affection of another. But it seems that he doesn't stop there.. Now every week you'd get a bouquet of 7 roses either from Rook himself, or at your doorstep. It also seems that he stopped trying to win against you for Vil's love, but it also didn't look like they were together. Something clearly wasn't right..

Today you were talking to Vil as you were both sitting at lunch, nothing to big to talk about as there really was nothing new. Other then one thing. Rook's strange behavior. "Have you not noticed Rook's sudden change in behavior?" he asks you in a tone that makes you think he knows something you clearly don't. "I have, but I have no idea what it's all about. I mean my whole room is about to be filled with so many roses that my roommates are starting to get concerned!" it's true, you have started to put the flowers Rook gives you in anything that isn't a vase only because you have none remining! And you have nowhere else to them other then around your bed as to not get in the way of your roommates.

"And have you ever asked him 'why' or perhaps looked up what the meaning is?" Vil has a good point. Why didn't you think of looking up on the internet what the meaning is!? As you are about to answer Vil, Rook shows up with Epel and they both sit down. Not much else was going on that day, so the moment you finally had free time you looked it up. It's not that you didn't know that roses were a love language, it's that he always brought exactly 7 roses each and every time!

The moment you realized what that meant you have finally understood what's up with Rook's behavior. He no longer wants to be with Vil, but with you instead. But why? what's with the sudden change? It's not that he stopped obsessing over Vil, but he seems to be more interested in you a lot more now.

The following day you saw Rook, with yet again, another bouquet. But now that you know the true meaning of it you can't help but blush a little. "Mon Rival! I was just on my way to your dorm to ask someone to bring you these! What has you walking around so early?" It really was early, considering today was a Sunday and no classes were held, so many students would just sleep the day off and take a break.

"I was actually going to look for you." you can see the look of surprise on his face, it's not everyday you are confronted by your very own crush. "I wanted to ask you why you are even doing any of this. Don't you love Vil or something? Why am I the one you now hold affection for?" Rook gives you a smile and hands you the bouquet as he's about to speak. "You see after I finally understood that Roi du Poison does not like me back, I have also understood that it is you who I truly love." as you take the roses he continues tot speak as he puts his hands on his chest. "I see the way you look at beauty. The way you admire it! You look so lovely whenever you stare at Roi du Poison with such a loving stare. I wish you'd look at me that way."

Blush is creeping onto your cheeks as he confesses his love for you, it is the moment you realize you love him just as much as he loves you.

How can you not accept his roses after this?