#fiction and reality are two separate things! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

runariya · 18 days

Text

Y(E)ARNED (JJK) • 2

pairing: alien!Jungkook x human seamstress!female reader genre: alien!AU, S2L, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: poor handling of sadness and fear, a lot of hurt, phone call with Namjoon, talk about bonding, tears, OC is rather dramatic, a little bit of fluff, JK calls OC "princess", showdown repeats itself, angst, hurt, sadness, a lot of tears, resignation, smut, oral (f.receiving), f!ngering, big d!ck JK, unprotected s€x (pls don't do it), doggy style, minor tentacle involvement, possessiveness, minor dirty talk, "good girl", hair gripping, lmk if I forgot something pls word count: ~5.3k

a/n: part of the "Dice With Destiny" project by @thebtswritersclub and @creativepromptsforwriting | I just couldn't help but dice again 🫣 sry

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

1 • masterlist

In the days that follow, you find yourself lost in a fog, unable to fully grasp the transformation that has occurred between you and Jungkook, no matter how many times you turn it over in your mind. It is as though the foundation of your relationship, once solid and easy, has shifted imperceptibly beneath your feet, leaving you both fumbling for a balance neither of you anticipated needing. And yet, despite this unspoken gulf now separating you, Jungkook appears determined—fiercely so—to drown the cracks with a wave of affection, as if by loving you more intensely, he could somehow compensate for the void that can never be entirely bridged, no matter how much either of you wills it so.

But the weight of it all begins to smother you, it’s a constant undercurrent, tugging at your every breath, pulling you under until the smallest things set you off without warning. You retreat, bit by bit, as your emotions swell and break uncontrollably. Tears fall from your eyes in the most inconvenient moments, anger flares up for no tangible reason, lashing out at those around you even when you know deep down they have done nothing to warrant it. It’s as if the shock of everything has numbed you to rationality, and yet the pain remains unbearable, a needle against your tender heart, piercing at both you and Jungkook alike. You can see the toll it takes on him, the hurt swimming in his gaze when he looks at you, though he tries so hard not to let it show. But what can you do? The aftermath of this storm offers no remedy, no balm, only a bitter reminder of what cannot be undone.

Your days blend into each other, and more often than not, you fall asleep hunched over your laptop in your shop, exhaustion overtaking you after hours spent desperately scouring every corner of the internet for some hope, some solution to this cruel fate. Is there truly no way for a Seraphenti to bond with someone of another species? The information you find is dishearteningly sparse, frustrating in its lack of clarity. Only six cases known. Six. Six Seraphenti who managed to bond with partners outside their own kind—yet even then, the bond wasn’t what it should normally have been, not in the way it’s supposed to be, not in the way you hoped it to be. The Seraphenti in those cases had not bonded directly with their partners; no, biology saw to that. Instead, they had bonded with themselves, two of their tentacles intertwining in an act of resigned finality, signalling that their search was over—though their true connection, the one to another soul, remained forever out of reach.

You reach out to these apex Seraphenti, hoping against hope that one of them might hold the answer you’re so desperately seeking. But five immediately pushed you towards the last one—Namjoon. He speaks to you in a voice that carries both understanding and kindness, a voice that you can’t help but find calming despite the ache coursing in your chest. “I believe it has to do with the love I have for her,” he tells you, his words careful. “And, of course, a great deal of willpower. I spoke to the others, and the common thread between us all seems to be just that—love, an unshakable love for our partners, and a strength of will that perhaps goes beyond what is typical. There’s no doubt in our hearts, none at all.”

His words, though kind, do little to soothe the ache biting away at you, the ache that grows more aggressive with each passing hour. Jungkook is as stubborn as they come, more determined than anyone you’ve ever known, and his willpower is unmatched—he’s accomplished everything he’s ever set his mind to, so how could this, of all things, be different? How could this be the one thing that eludes him? And then, the thought worms its way into your mind, an unwelcome intruder that refuses to leave: perhaps it’s not a question of willpower at all. Perhaps, despite all his love for you, it simply doesn’t reach the level required for a true bond. Perhaps it’s his love, after all, that falls short.

You don’t say this aloud, of course, though Namjoon seems to hear the unspoken despair in your long, weary sigh. “I’m sorry,” he tries gently, the regret in his voice evident even through the line. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. But if there’s a way for him to bond with you—well, with himself, really—I think you don’t need to worry so much. I can tell how deeply you love him, and love… love is never wasted.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, the words barely a whisper. They hang in the air, heavy with resignation, as though you’re thanking him more out of habit than genuine belief that he might be right.

“No worries,” he replies, his tone warm. “If you have more questions, or if you ever want to meet up with me and the others, don’t hesitate to reach out. We’re here for you.”

“All right,” you whisper, forcing back the tears that threaten to spill over your red eyes. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

As you end the call, the silence that fills the room seems louder than it should be. You rub at your eyes, your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion that clings to you like a second skin. You want so desperately for things to work with Jungkook, for this cruel twist of fate to somehow resolve itself. But the fear is there too, circling in the back of your mind. What if it doesn’t? What if, no matter how much you want it, it simply can’t be? You’re not sure you could bear to stay in this place, to remain on this planet where every street corner, every familiar face, every stray memory would only remind you of what could have been but never was.

You had thought, for a fleeting moment, that you had found your home—not just here on this planet but with Jungkook. And now, it seems as though perhaps your destiny lies elsewhere, forever moving, drifting like a leaf caught on the wind. Maybe you’re not meant to belong anywhere, not to any one place, not to any one person, but only to yourself and your sewing machine, crafting a life from fragments as you pass through it. A quiet sob escapes your lips as you rise from your chair, gathering the scraps of fabric strewn about your workspace, though this time you don’t return them to their rightful places on the shelves. Instead, you fold them carefully, placing them in the moving boxes still scattered throughout your storeroom.

The act feels final, a quiet resignation, a silent acceptance of the hurt you know can’t be undone, no matter how much you might wish it could be. Perhaps this is the only option left to you—leaving it all behind, even Jungkook, so that he might find the happiness he deserves, even if it’s not with you.

And then, just as he does every evening, you hear his footsteps, soft yet unmistakable, on the old wooden floor of your shop. The sound sends a pang through your chest, knowing he’s come to take you home, to ensure you don’t walk alone in the dark all by yourself.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you softly, his voice warm yet tinged with the sadness you wish you didn’t have to see there, hurting you even more than it already does. Knowing that you are the cause of this, that his suffering stems from you when all you want is for him to be happy.

You don’t turn to face him, your hands still busy folding the last of the fabric, your gaze fixed on the boxes before you. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” he asks, stepping closer, his hand resting gently on your back, its warmth both comforting and unbearable at once. His eyes, you know, are on the boxes.

“I’m packing,” you reply simply, your voice devoid of emotion, though the tears are already sliding silently down your cheeks.

“Why?” he whispers, and you hear the crack in his voice, the heartbreak so tangible it nearly breaks you too.

You can’t answer him, not really. All you can do is shrug, helpless against the tide of emotions threatening to pull you under, your gaze remaining fixed on the boxes that hold more than just fabric—they hold your resignation, your acceptance of what cannot be changed.

And then, without warning, Jungkook pulls you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest as if he could somehow keep you from slipping away. His voice, broken, pleads softly against your skin, repeating over and over again, “Please don’t leave me.”

But there’s nothing else you can do but nod, eyes glazing over, lost in the space just behind his shoulder, seeing nothing but the shadows of a love slipping away.

The following morning, Jungkook convinces you to take a step back, to shut the door of your shop for just a day, to close yourself off from the world and let the noise, the tension, the suffocating weight of everything that has been gnawing at your heart, dissipate into something softer. And at first, it does—there’s a glimmer of peace in his words, a balm in the simple idea of spending the day with him, untethered from all that binds you both in knots. You agree, if only because it feels like the right thing to do—because, for once, it feels like you’re choosing something together, rather than trying to unravel the tangle that fate has made of your lives.

You sleep in, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the morning light filtering lazily through the curtains as if the universe itself has decided to take a pause, allowing the two of you to rest in this fragile pocket of serenity. You bathe in each other’s presence, letting the quiet intimacy between you unfold like something sacred, something tender. For the first time in a long while, it feels right—like the two of you are simply existing, not worrying, not striving, but just being, together.

Later, you venture out for a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the air warm against your skin, leaves rustling in the trees above as you walk hand in hand. There’s a lightness to it, a sense that, perhaps, you can both breathe a little easier today. You can feel the tension within you, and within him, slowly beginning to ebb away, like a tide retreating from the shore, leaving behind only the faintest traces of its presence. The hurt that has wrapped itself so tightly around your hearts seems to loosen its grip, just a little, and you find yourself grateful for this fleeting respite from the storm that has raged between you for so long.

It's a tentative first step towards something resembling normalcy—a small, almost imperceptible shift in the air between you, a whisper of trust that just perhaps there’s a future where things might be all right again. You glance at him occasionally, his eyes softer, his smile less weighed down by the burdens of sadness and uncertainty. Even his tentacles, usually so motionless when you’re together, seem more at ease, their movements languid and unhurried, as though they’ve finally begun to acknowledge your presence in a way they hadn’t before. It’s as if they’ve come to sense you too—recognising, in some quiet way, that you’re not just passing through but are perhaps someone who will remain by Jungkook’s side for a long time yet.

The day feels effortless at first, a gentle rhythm of comfort and routine, until it comes time to venture to the grocery store. It’s a new one, not far from the park, and the unfamiliarity of it prickles at the back of your mind. There’s a moment of hesitation as you both step inside, but you push through, determined to hold onto the lightness that has graced your day so far. You and Jungkook move together through the aisles, your fingers entwined, his hand warm in yours, though you can feel the slight tension creeping back into his grip as the crowd around you thickens. The store is bustling with Seraphenti, more than you’re used to seeing, and the sight of so many of them stirs something uneasy in you, an undercurrent of anxiety that starts to gnaw at your calm. His hand begins to sweat slightly, the grip tightening, and though you don’t want to admit it, your heart begins to race just a little too.

You try to shake it off, to keep yourself grounded in the moment, reminding yourself that you can’t live in avoidance forever. You can’t hide from the world just because the risk of something going wrong exists. You tell yourself that this is just a regular day, just an ordinary task, something that you both should be able to handle together. But the unease remains, no matter how much you try to silence it, and you can sense the same tension rising in him as he steers you away from the busiest aisles, his eyes darting around in search of something—perhaps escape, perhaps reassurance.

It’s when you’re standing before the cooling section, the faint hum of the refrigeration units filling the space around you, that the nightmare you thought you’d left behind comes rushing back with terrifying clarity. You’re looking at the yoghurt options, trying to decide on something that will be addible for both you and him, when she appears—an ethereal Seraphenti, gliding through the aisle with an elegance that makes everyone elsestop in their tracks. She’s beautiful, in that otherworldly way that Seraphenti often are, and though she shares a vague resemblance to you, it’s clear she belongs to another realm entirely, one you can never hope to touch. Her presence seems to hold the entire store captive, every gaze drawn to her as she moves with effortless grace, matching Jungkook’s usual self.

She comes to a stop beside Jungkook, reaching for some yoghurt as well, and that’s when it happens.

Jungkook swallows dryly, skin paling in seconds, and the yoghurt he holds begins to tremble violently in his hands as he whispers frantic, broken “no’s” under his breath. His tentacles, which had been so calm mere moments ago, suddenly rise of their own accord again, twisting and writhing towards hers in a movement that feels almost inevitable. She notices it too, her own tentacles responding in kind, and when her eyes meet his, they soften with a hope that nearly brings you to your knees.

You stand frozen, the world tilting on its axis as your heart hammers painfully in your chest. Tears prick at your eyes, your hands trembling as you struggle to maintain even a semblance of composure. You reach out for the yoghurt in Jungkook’s hands, more out of instinct than anything, placing it back in the cooler before it slips from his grip and shatters on the floor. You don’t know what to do—how could you, when the very thing you feared most is unfolding right before your eyes—again?

You take a step back, the weight of the moment pressing down on you with a force that threatens to crush you entirely. Your mind races through the memories of all the moments you’ve shared with Jungkook—the laughter, the tenderness, the quiet pillow talks of the mornings spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You think of all the time you wasted, mired in hurt and sadness, wishing you could turn back the clock and hold onto those fleeting moments of joy. But now, standing here, watching as his tentacles dance with hers in a way that feels so natural, so effortless, you know that those moments are slipping through your fingers like sand, and never to be reclaimed.

And then, before you can retreat any further, Jungkook moves with a desperation that breaks your heart all over again. He grabs hold of you, pulling you against him, his body trembling with the force of his emotions as he wraps you in his arms. He’s crying, silently but violently, his shoulders shaking as he presses his face into your hair, his voice a broken whisper against your skin. “I’m so sorry,” he chokes out, the words tumbling from his lips again and again. “I never wanted this. I love you. I love you.”

You clutch at his shirt, your fingers gripping the fabric as though it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. You want to tell him that you love him too, that you always have, but the words lodge in your throat, stuck behind the tears that blur your vision. You can’t bring yourself to say it—not now, not when it would only serve to twist the knife deeper into your heart. Instead, you hold onto him, letting this be your last moment together, the last time you will feel the warmth of his embrace, the last time you will ever be this close to him. You shut your eyes tightly, blocking out the sight of their tentacles intertwining, blocking out the cheers of encouragement from the crowd around you. You try to drown it all out, but then comes Jungkook’s cry—a sound so raw, so full of anguish that it shatters the air around you.

And in the sudden, shocked silence that follows, all you can hear is the sound of your own sobs, mingling with his as the two of you hold each other, broken but unwilling to let go.

It takes every ounce of strength you have to pull away from him, to step back and release your grip on his shirt. His hands fall away from you too, without hesitation, as if he knows that this is the end. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes—you don’t want to see what comes next, don’t want your last image of him to be one of him finding happiness with someone else. But before you can turn and walk away, his hand catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn, slowly, your vision still blurred with tears, but as you force yourself to look at him, what you see is not at all what you expected. Jungkook stands before you, tears still streaming down his face, his nose red from crying, but there’s a peace in his expression that you’ve never seen before. He smiles at you—warm, genuine—and though it breaks your heart to see him like this, knowing that his happiness isn’t because of you, it also heals something deep within you. Because at least he’ll be happy. Even if it’s not with you.

“I love you,” he whispers, and this time, the words hit you square in the face and chest, knocking the breath from your lungs.

You blink, confused, and glance behind him, expecting to see the female Seraphenti, her tentacles still entwined with his. But instead, you see her standing there with tears in her eyes, clapping, her tentacles floating freely around her, untouched. The crowd around you erupts into applause too, their cheers ringing in your ears, but all you can do is stare at Jungkook, your heart pounding in your chest as you force him to step sideways, looking past him, to where his own tentacles have coiled around one another—bonded, not with hers, but with themselves.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, the words escaping you in a rush of disbelief and overwhelming relief. You collapse to the floor, your hands covering your face as sobs wrack your body—tears of joy, of disbelief, of a happiness you never thought you’d feel again. Jungkook falls to his knees before you, wrapping you in his arms as the two of you cry together, holding onto each other as though you might never let go.

How you manage to finish the grocery shopping and return home with Jungkook by your side remains a mystery, one you have no desire to unravel, as if the details of that journey are irrelevant now, lost in a haze of pure unreality. What truly matters, what holds your attention with fierce power, is the longing that pulses through you, a desire that takes shape in the form of Jungkook’s body—every inch of him calling to you like a siren’s song, tempting you towards the only thing you now wish to explore fully and consciously.

You find yourself pressed against the wall that leads to his bedroom, your back arching as Jungkook’s larger frame towers against you, his hands mapping the landscape of your body with an eager hunger, his touch both desperate and tender. Your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him closer with an intensity that suggests you may never let go, as though in this moment he is your lifeline, the very air you breathe, and somehow he truly is. He lifts you with ease, carrying you as though you weigh nothing more than air, laying you down on his bed with a gentleness that makes your heart race even more. There is something in his gaze, a reverence that leaves you awestruck, your heart fluttering as you marvel at the sight of him.

With one quick movement, he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it, revealing his bare chest to you, every inch of him chiseled and breathtaking. Your heart stutters as you drink in the sight of him, the rise and fall of his chest, the faint red marks on his neck where your fingernails had scratched moments before, his lips swollen and flushed from your kisses. The sight of him undoes you entirely, a pulse of heat spreading through your core, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. And yet, despite the haze of lust that clouds your mind, it’s his tentacles that draw your gaze, now bonded with themselves in a way that makes your body react instinctively, a fresh wave of desire coursing through you at the sight, making you pussy cream and clench without restraint.

You waste no time in peeling off your clothes, your fingers trembling with impatience as you bare yourself to him, your lips bitten red in anticipation. Jungkook watches you with darkened eyes as he follows your movements, his lips parting slightly as his tongue sweeps across them, as if starving for days on end. He’s undressing now too, pulling off his remaining clothes with a slowness that only heightens the tension between you, and when he finally stands before you, fully naked, the sight of his Seraphenti dick makes your thighs press together instinctively, rubbing them together to feel a little bit of friction you desperately need. His length is enormous, veined with red and dripping steadily from the pointed head, the sheer size of it enough to make your breath catch in your throat and saliva collecting in your mouth. But even as a small thrill of apprehension flickers through you, there’s no denying the deeper, primal need that overrides everything else—you need him, desperately, more than anything.

With a strong grip on your ankles, Jungkook pulls you effortlessly towards the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over the side, your weeping pussy now hovering just out of his reach. The lust in his eyes is unmistakable as he kneels before you, his gaze locked onto your slickened folds with an intensity that nearly sends orgasms through your whole body. You force yourself up, sitting just enough so that you can reach out and grab him by the hair, making sure his eyes meet yours. For a moment, the lust in his expression softens into something deeper, more profound—a look of pure devotion that melts your heart even as your arousal surges to new heights, leaving you dripping with need.

“I’ve loved you since the day I met you, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion, your heart swelling with colours you’ve never known existed. His face splits into a radiant smile, teeth flashing, his front two slightly protruding in a way that only adds to his charm. That smile revives something within you, a sense of purpose you thought you lost, a promise you make to yourself—to keep that smile on his face for as long as you live, no matter what it takes.

“I love you too. With everything I am,” he murmurs, but even as the words leave his lips, his expression shifts into something far more dangerous, a smirk that promises both pleasure and adoration. Before you can react, he pushes you gently down onto the bed, his hands guiding you to lie flat as he positions himself between your legs.

There’s no hesitation in him as he kisses your slit, his tongue soon following, dragging slowly along your folds before he begins to devour you with a fervour that leaves you gasping. His mouth latches onto your clit, sucking and licking with a need that borders on desperation, the wet sounds of his tongue mixing with the obscene squelching of his finger as it plunges into your pussy. Your mind spins, the room tilting as pleasure surges through you in waves, your body trembling beneath him as his deep groans vibrate against your sensitive flesh. His muscles flex and ripple beneath his skin, his back arching with each movement of his head, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of him—this beautiful, otherworldly being who worships your body with such raw intensity.

And then more of his fingers enter you—two at first, then three, stretching you in a way that makes your eyes water with a delicious burn, your walls tightening around him as your mind begins to cloud with the promise of an impending high. His fingers scissor inside you, spreading your slickness until it coats his entire hand, glistening in the light of the room. “You taste so fucking divine,” he moans against your clit, and it’s all you need to fall over the edge, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers as you come with a force that has you gushing all over his arm.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praises, his voice rough and low, sending a new wave of shivers down your entire body as he continues to suck on your clit, slurping up every drop of your release before it can add to the mess on his skin. When you finally come down from your high, your vision slowly clearing, you look up to see Jungkook hovering over you, his thick cock in hand, leaking with arousal as he licks the remnants of your cum from his fingers, sucking each one clean. The sight nearly makes you cum all over again, and you feel a fresh surge of creamy wetness between your legs, your body already eager for more.

But before he can move over you, you roll onto your stomach, pushing up onto your knees, your ass high in the air as you present yourself to him, your breasts spilling onto the mattress, back arched in the way you know he loves. You know his kind bonds sexually from behind, and you want him to claim you, to make you his in every possible way. Jungkook freezes for a moment, his breath catching as he stares at your ass, transfixed by the sight of you bent over for him.

“Make me yours, Jungkook,” you keen, your voice breathy and desperate as you shift your knees to find a more comfortable position, your ass now taunting him even more. His hands are on you in an instant, strong fingers kneading the flesh of it lovingly as he positions himself behind you. He leans down, kissing a slow trail along your back, his tentacles following the path of his lips, their cool touch making goosebumps appear across your skin until he reaches your ear, his breath warm against your cheek, his hand gripping your head to make you look at him.

“Should I get a condom?” he asks, his voice strained with need.

“No,” you whisper, your voice trembling with anticipation. “I want to feel everything of you.”

“As you wish, princess,” he groans before pressing a kiss to your lips, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a possessiveness that leaves your pussy gasping. He positions himself at your entrance, his cock massive against your hot folds, and with a slight movement of his hips, his tip slips into you, the stretch immediate and oh so good as he pushes deeper.

The moan that escapes your throat is swallowed by his kiss, his hands caressing your sides before they settle on your hips, gripping you firmly as he begins to thrust slowly into you. He rises to his full height, towering over you as he fucks you with slow, measured strokes, each one pushing you closer to the brink of insanity. His tentacles trail up your arms, brushing over your skin in soft, teasing strokes, while his fingers dig into your hips with a possessive strength that leaves you feeling utterly claimed. “You’re made for me,” he groans, his voice low and primal. “Fuck, princess, I love your little pussy so much.”

“Jungkook,” you cry out, his name the only coherent thought left in your mind as he pounds into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he chases his release, his tentacles toying with your clit as your vision blurs with stars.

He leans over you again, his hand again gripping your hair as he forces your face to the side, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough with possession. “You hear that, princess? You’re mine.” His pace increases, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, and you can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter until you’re nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

“Say it!” he demands, his voice a guttural snarl. “Fucking say it.”

“I’m yours, Jungkook!” you sob, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, your walls clenching around his cock with a force that sends him over the edge. He lets out a low, primal moan as he spills into you, his cock twitching violently as his release floods your pussy, hot and thick.

Jungkook collapses on top of you, his body trembling as he struggles to hold himself up on shaking arms, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But still, he peppers your shoulder with kisses, his lips soft and gentle against your skin, while his tentacles stroke your sides, legs and arms in soothing patterns. “I’ll never let you go,” he rasps between breathes.

“And I’ll never leave,” you whisper, your throat dry but your heart full.

As his tentacles come into view, glistening in your juices on the mattress beside you, you reach out to pat them gently, making both of you giggle, the sound light and full of love.

And so, after all that time, all the yarned threads of fate tugging you this way and that, pulling, twisting in their maddening ways, you find yourself where you always were meant to be. No more yearning, no more restless nights; only the serene, almost melodic understanding that every piece has fallen into place just as it was always meant to be. Always meant to be Jungkook.

1 • masterlist

a/n 3: hope you've enjoyed this little two-shot👀 lmk what you think in any way you like! I physically couldn't keep up with the analogies like I did in part 1—sryyyy

a/n 4: please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for eventual bonuses 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @dumbheadblog, @darkeneddiary, @jksusawife, @justjkkkkk, @fluttershy-vanilla, @nikidream24, @ericawantstoescape

174 notes · View notes

demonpiratehuntress · 9 months

Text

dreams

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - majority of your dreams seem to manifest in the real world somehow, so when you have one about your crush and your best friend...things get a little out of control.

warnings - heavy angst (im sorry), hurt to comfort

a/n: when i started writing for this fandom i PROMISED myself i would not make it all angst and no fun, but oh well :))))) idek where this idea came from, i need help

You woke up from a nap with the sickening urge to empty your stomach overboard. Nausea reared its ugly head, and before you could even try to tame the feeling, you were sprinting to the side of the ship to empty your stomach.

What exactly was the cause?

This would sound insanely ridiculous, and to you it really was, but you had a weird dream. And it didn't sit well with you. Most of the dreams you had often became a reality, albeit with slight changes. There were some that didn't, but almost all of them came true eventually or manifested in a similar way at some point.

And that's probably the reason you couldn't stop yourself from vomiting obscenely before your stunned - and confused - crew.

"(Name), are you okay?" Nami asked worriedly, coming over to you.

You flinched away from her, increasing her confusion, before turning and running off to the bathroom. She exchanged looks with the others who were out on deck - Usopp and Luffy - before shrugging it off and going back to mapping the ship's course.

The truth was, you had a completely unexpected yet maddening dream while napping, one that you prayed to any god who would listen would not come true. You had dreamed of Zoro - the man you had the biggest crush on - and Nami, which may seem an odd coupling and probably was but you couldn't control your dreams. Much like how you couldn't control how you felt about it, despite it only being a fictional idea your mind concocted.

You went straight to yours and Nami's room after cleaning yourself up, setting up the divider that separated your section from hers so you wouldn't have to deal with seeing her if she came in. Your behaviour was unfair to her, since you knew she would never do anything like that, nor did she have any romantic interest in Zoro. In fact, she barely had any interest in the swordsman at all. But according to your dream, that might change.

You curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket right up over your head to shield yourself from the real world. The familiar feeling of something wet running down your cheek informed you that you had started crying, but you couldn't care less. You couldn't move. You didn't have the energy to move, much less bring your hand up to wipe your tears away. So you just lay there, curled up in a foetal position, trying - and miserably failing - to get your mind off it.

A while later, a knock at your door caused you to jerk up in your bed, before you groaned and flopped back down.

"Go away!"

"Nami said you're sick," came Sanji's voice, "So I made you some soup. Please open the door."

You breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't either of the two people you were currently trying to avoid. Slowly dragging yourself out of bed, you had to make even more effort to get yourself to the door. Forgetting that you had just been crying, you opened it and let the cook in, confused when his expression immediately grew alarmed.

"(Name), why are you crying??" He immediately set the soup down and pulled you into a comforting hug - one that seemed to be much warmer than usual right now.

"I-I'm fine," you mumbled into his shoulder, "Just not well."

He nodded, falling for your excuse, before pulling away to hand you the soup, "Here, this should help. If you need more, or if you need anything else, just let me know." He smiled at you, before leaving you alone once again.

You sat back down on your bed and ate the soup - because who can say no to Sanji's cooking, even if you're not really in the mood to eat? And it did help, the warmth helping to settle your queasy stomach and alleviate the nausea if only a little bit. Minutes after you finished it, there was another knock and you frowned, wondering who it was now.

You didn't answer, in fear of it being Zoro.

Just the thought of Zoro had you replaying that dream all over again, and before you could stop yourself or at least soften the sound, sobs were wracking your body and you were burying your face in your hands, crying into their warmth.

The door opened and a familiar set of heavy footsteps reached your ears before the bed dipped beside you. Your entire body froze up, tensing at the arrival of the green-haired swordsman. Your sobs fell silent, hiccups replacing them as you stilled and tried your best to quell your sadness - still keeping your face hidden.

"What happened?" Came that usually-comforting deep voice you loved so much, but that now caused your nausea to return. "What's wrong, (Name)?"

"Please go away," you found yourself speaking, not wanting to push him away but knowing you'd feel even more ridiculous if he found out how you felt about him while you were recounting a silly dream.

"No."

Usually the swordsman would leave without a word if you asked for space, or if you told him to go away, but this time he could see you were absolutely not okay and you needed someone. Luffy wouldn't be a good idea, Usopp wouldn't know what to do, and you seemed to be avoiding Nami. And he sure as hell did not want that stupid cook anywhere near you right now, in fear of him comforting you so well that the swordsman would lose you to him entirely.

You didn't respond to that, so Zoro brought his hands up to slowly and gently peel yours away from your face. You let him, shocking yourself, and the sight of your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face caused his heart to constrict painfully.

"Tell me what's wrong."

He held your hands in his own, not wanting to let go. He had waited so long to be able to hold them, and he was glad for this excuse to. But he was heartbroken seeing you so upset and apparently sick over something he didn't know about yet. He gently squeezed your hands, silently encouraging you to speak. He wasn't good with words, but if comfort was what you needed he would do and say whatever he could to make your pain go away.

"It's you and Nami."

He stiffened. He didn't know what that meant, but just hearing he was part of the reason you were so upset made his heart sink.

"What did we do?"

"It's...um...it's silly," you replied quietly, voice low but pain still evident. "It doesn't matter." You tried pulling your hands away, but Zoro only gripped them tighter.

"It does, if it's making you this upset."

Reluctantly, you relayed to him what you had dreamed about, voice cracking halfway through as more tears fell. You felt even sillier saying it to someone else, especially him, and avoided making eye-contact throughout the entire explanation. When you finished, you shot him a small, brief glance - only to do a double take when you saw the absolutely horrified and disgusted look on his face.

"Me and the thief?" He questioned, distaste clear in his tone. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed, sneakily shifting closer to you on the bed. "That can't be possible."

"But-"

"Some of your dreams don't come true," he reminded you, "This is definitely one of those. You want to know how I know?"

You nodded slowly, biting your lip.

You did not expect his next words.

"Because I already dream about doing that with you."

Your jaw dropped. If you were like Luffy, it would have probably dropped all the way to the floor, you were so stunned by his confession. Your formerly slowed heartbeat picked up speed again, heat filling your cheeks as you processed his words.

"Me?"

"Mhm. Only you. Been a recurring dream, actually."

As you stuttered out an incomplete sentence and then stammered through some nonsense, Zoro leaned in slowly and pressed his lips against yours, locking you in a slow but sweet kiss. His lips were warm and soft, inviting you to lean into him and return the kiss. The affectionate gesture had butterflies blooming in your stomach.

"I'm sorry," you whispered once you remembered how to speak.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you into a warm, comforting and secure embrace.

You sat like that quietly for a while, Zoro rubbing soothing circles onto your back while you clung to him, face buried in his neck. He kissed the top of your head every few minutes, in between mumbling sweet words of comfort into your ear - mainly "you're beautiful" and "i'm yours" because he didn't know what else to say. But it was enough for you.

Eventually, he spoke up.

"You should clear things up with Nami. She's upset because you're not talking to her."

"I know...later."

He chuckled and tightened his grip on you, keeping you warm and increasingly happy in his strong arms. He didn't intend on letting go, but that was good because you didn't want him to.

BONUS:

"STUPID MOSSHEAD!"

Loud banging and clanging jerked you awake the morning after your confessions, the sound of Sanji's loud exclamation having woken you - but not Zoro - up. He probably had woken up the others as well.

You tried to get up to see what was wrong, but Zoro refused to let go. He was still sleeping, but his arms wound around you even tighter, pulling you back against him. You sighed, knowing you could ask someone else later anyway.

Nami poked her head around the divider and smirked, "He's upset that Zoro finally confessed and ruined his chance to woo you."

You laughed at that, "Give him an hour, max. Then he'll try to woo you."

She groaned, "I'm already dreading it."

The two of you laughed, and it felt good to be back on speaking terms with her. Even though, strictly speaking, you hadn't had a reason not to be in the first place. But oh well.

The power of dreams...

#one piece #opla #one piece live action #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #opla zoro #opla x reader #zoro x you #opla zoro x reader #op #opla zoro x you

490 notes · View notes

03jyh23 · 3 months

Text

— fear of the unknown || choi jongho (part two of finding our way back series)

ex-boyfriend!idol!jongho x ex-girlfriend!single-mom!reader

synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

trigger warnings: unplanned pregnancy, illegitimate child, single parenthood

words: 8.1 k

reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there! first of all, thank you so much for being interested in finding our way back! your support means a lot to me! i'm super excited to share this part! i know some of you've been looking forward to reading it so im happy to finally be able to give it to you! it took me a while to work on it so i hope you will enjoy it! can't wait to read your opinions!

love, monika ♡

taglist: @seventeenthingsblr @DALSUWAHA @treehouse-mouse @ateez-atiny380 @sleepy-kat-here @sndeoki @bomi-ja ♡ (if by any chance i forgotten to add someone please remind me once again)

if you wish to be tagged let me know here

Jongho paced around the conference room, his hands shaky as he waited for the CEO and other representatives to arrive. It was the first time he had called a special meeting. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and what-ifs, making it impossible for him to sit still. Unease had settled in his stomach, churning uncomfortably with every passing second. It was a different kind of nervousness compared to what he had felt before his audition. Back then, it was a mixture of excitement and fear of the unknown. But this was entirely different. This time, he was more than just an aspiring artist. He was a father, a man who had discovered a newfound purpose in life, a purpose that was far more significant than any song or dance routine. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythmic thumping loud in his ears as he waited for the attendees to arrive. His palms were sweaty, his fingers trembling slightly as he clenched and unclenched them in an attempt to release some of the tension. As he looked around the empty conference room, he could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him. The silence of the room seemed to echo the uncertainty he was feeling, amplifying his anxiety. He was about to have a conversation that could change the course of his life, a conversation that could either bring him closer to his daughter or push him further away. He had no script, no rehearsal. All he had were his feelings, his love for his daughter, and his determination to be a part of her life. As he waited for the meeting to begin, Jongho felt a strange mix of fear and anticipation. He feared the possible outcomes, yet was eager to voice out his feelings, his intentions.

As he paced back and forth, his mind raced with thoughts of every possible scenario. What if they didn’t believe him? What if they questioned his sincerity? What if they denied him the chance to be a part of his daughter’s life? But amidst all the doubts and fears, a small glimmer of hope remained. The hope that they would understand that they would give him a chance to prove his worth as a father. He couldn’t predict how this conversation might end. But he knew one thing for certain. He was ready to fight. Ready to fight for his right to be a father, to be a part of his daughter’s life. And with that thought, he took a deep breath, steadying himself as he prepared for the meeting that could change his life forever.

After what felt like forever, the CEO entered the conference room in the company of other representatives, a cup of coffee in their hands. All of them greeted Jongho with a fond smile and one of them handed Jongho one of the cups as well. "It's nice to see you, Jongho. Should we start the meeting now?"

"Thank you," Jongho said, accepting the coffee with a small smile. His hands were shaking slightly as he brought the cup to his lips, taking a small sip of the hot beverage. He looked down into the cup, watching as the dark liquid swirled around. Where should he start? He took a deep breath, lifting his gaze to meet the eyes of the people around the room. The friendly chit-chat and the light-hearted atmosphere were about to take a drastic turn. "I have something I need to tell you," He began, his voice quiet but steady. He knew that his confession was about to change everything.

"Well, I really hope you do have something important to share," the CEO began with a light-hearted chuckle, breaking the tense silence that had enveloped the room. "After all, it's Friday morning, and we've all gathered here, for what I understand is an emergency meeting. Given the urgency, I'm certain that you've called us here for a matter of utmost importance." His smile was warm and encouraging, a stark contrast to the seriousness of his words. "So, why don't you go ahead and tell us, Jongho? What's going on that required such immediate attention?"

Jongho took another deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each representative before finally settling on the CEO. "I called this meeting because there's something important, I need to share with you all. It's about my personal life but has significant implications for my career and ATEEZ." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Five years ago, I was in a relationship with someone very special to me, Y/N. I had to end things because of the pressures and demands of my career. What I didn't know at the time was that she was pregnant when we broke up." The room was silent, the weight of Jongho's revelation hanging heavily in the air. He continued; his voice steady but filled with emotion. "She had our daughter, Nari, and she's been raising her on her own ever since. I only found out about Nari recently, at a fan sign event where Y/N brought her. Meeting my daughter for the first time was... overwhelming." Jongho paused to let his words sink in, watching as the representatives' exchanged glances, processing the information. "I understand that this is unexpected and may complicate things, but I need you all to know that I am committed to being a father to Nari. I will not abandon my responsibilities or pretend she doesn't exist. She is my daughter, and I love her."

The CEO's expression shifted from surprise to a more contemplative look. "Jongho, this is indeed a significant development. We need to consider the implications carefully. But first, tell us more about your relationship with Y/N. How do you see your future with her and your daughter?"

"We both were really young when we fell in love and taking into consideration how much time has passed, it's hard for me to navigate my relationship with Nari's mom," Jongho stated. "I believe the way we parted hurt her in more than one way and I'm willing to work to gain her trust again. However, my current focus is on reconnecting with my daughter."

The CEO sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I understand, but you need to realize the potential repercussions. The public will find out, and we must be prepared for the fallout. We're talking about an illegitimate child, Jongho. It’s going to cause a lot of trouble."

Jongho clenched his fists, his resolve strengthening. "Nari is my daughter, and I won’t let her be treated as a scandal or a mistake. She deserves better than that. I am prepared to face any backlash if it means being a part of her life."

One of the other representatives leaned forward, their expression more sympathetic. "We understand your position, Jongho, and we want to support you. But we need a clear plan, PR team how can we introduce Nari and Y/N to the public? How can we handle the media attention?"

The PR manager, a professional with a calm demeanor, took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding. "The key here is to control the narrative. We need to craft a heartfelt, honest statement from Jongho, explaining the situation clearly and sincerely. We should emphasize his dedication to his daughter and his desire to be a responsible father. Transparency will help us gain the public's sympathy and support."

Another member of the PR team chimed in, "We can arrange an exclusive interview with a trusted media outlet. Jongho can share his story in his own words, highlighting his commitment to Nari. This will allow us to present the news in a positive light and address any potential questions or concerns upfront."

The CEO nodded thoughtfully. "And what about Y/N? How does she feel about being in the public eye? Will she be willing to participate in this plan?"

Jongho took a deep breath. "I don't want to pressure her into anything she's not comfortable with. But I believe that, with time, she will see that being open about our situation is the best way forward for all of us. I will talk to her and make sure she understands the importance of this step."

The PR manager continued, "We should also prepare a detailed FAQ and talking points for Jongho and the rest of the team. This will ensure that everyone is on the same page and can respond consistently to any inquiries. Social media will be crucial as well. We need to monitor reactions and engage with fans to build support and understanding."

A marketing executive added, "It might be beneficial to involve the rest of ATEEZ in this process. Their support can help reinforce the message that this is a positive development for Jongho and his family. A united front will be more compelling to the public."

Jongho nodded, looking a bit hesitant. "There's one more thing. Only Hongjoong knows about Nari right now. The rest of the boys have no idea. I need to talk to them and explain everything before we move forward with any public announcements."

The CEO leaned forward; his gaze intense. "Jongho, we need to move carefully. Your career and the future of ATEEZ are at stake. But we also want to see you become the father you want to be. We'll work on this strategy together, but you need to keep us informed every step of the way."

Jongho nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination. "Thank you. I appreciate your support and understanding. I won't let you down."

As the meeting concluded, Jongho knew that the road ahead would be challenging, but he was ready to face it with unwavering determination. He was committed to being the best father he could be for Nari, and he would do whatever it took to make things right with you. With the support of his team and his own resolve, he felt more prepared to navigate the difficult path ahead. His next step was to sit down with the rest of ATEEZ and share his story, trusting in their brotherhood and hoping for their understanding.

You had just finished cleaning up when you heard your phone ringing. Your heartbeat faster when you saw Jongho's name on the screen, a sight unfamiliar yet deeply desired. The night before, after Jongho left, you found it hard to sleep. You tossed and turned in your bed, replaying the entire evening. You remembered how he looked, how your heart reacted upon seeing him. It felt as if no time had passed, and your youthful love was still aflame. There was no denying the strong impact seeing Jongho had on you. Despite the years and the distance, feelings you thought you had tucked away resurfaced with a force you hadn't anticipated. You were left grappling with a flurry of emotions, from surprise to anxiety, from sorrow to a yearning you weren't ready to confront. It was as if the past had caught up with you, reminding you of what once was and what could have been.

"Hello?" you answered the call,

"Hi Y/N, I just wanted to let you know I finished the company meeting. Would you like to meet me for coffee?" Your heart raced in your chest at his unexpected invitation, leaving you momentarily speechless.

"Sure, Jongho. That sounds nice," you finally responded, managing to maintain a steady voice.

"Great, can I come and pick you up in thirty minutes?"

"Sure, I'll be ready," you replied, a wave of excitement washing over you.

As you ended the call, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Part of you was excited at the prospect of seeing Jongho again, eager to spend more time with him. But another part of you was filled with uncertainty, unsure of what this meeting meant for your relationship and where things would go from here. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. You were acutely aware that a lot could change in five years. Jongho was no longer the aspiring artist who was still finding his way, but a worldwide superstar, a member of a successful group. His popularity, his financial status - everything had changed. He was not your Jongho anymore. He wasn't the same boy you fell in love with. He had become a man, a man you wanted to get to know, to be close to. You knew it wasn't going to be easy. But you had changed too. You had matured, become less spontaneous and, perhaps, less happy along the way? You had neglected yourself, focusing solely on your daughter. You weren't unhappy, not at all, Nari was your purpose in life. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, you couldn't help but feel like you had lost a part of yourself in the process of becoming a mother.

You quickly freshened up, opting for a casual outfit that struck the perfect balance between comfort and style. With your heart pounding in your chest, you made your way out of the building. You sat down on a bench, scanning your surroundings for Jongho, but there was no sign of him. You started to grow impatient, shaking your legs as a distraction. It was a struggle to calm your racing heart. You had to repeatedly remind yourself that you were a mother first, an individual second. You had to remember that you were doing this for your daughter's sake. You couldn't selfishly rush Jongho back into your life, even if every fiber of your being yearned for him, even if your greatest dream was to create a family with him. For now, your feelings need to be pushed back. You needed your mind to stay clear, to fight with yourself to remain a responsible adult, a mother who wouldn't let emotions cloud her vision. Preferably, you would have wanted to just run into Jongho's arms and explore the feelings, the love. And if needed, beg him to love you again. But you couldn't. Not now. As much as you wanted to give in to your feelings, you knew that it wouldn't be fair to Nari. You didn't want to risk her getting hurt if things didn't work out with Jongho. So, you buried your feelings deep inside, vowing to focus on your daughter and her needs.

When finally, Jongho arrived, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves as you caught sight of him. He looked just as handsome as ever, his warm smile sending a wave of warmth through you

"Hey," he greeted you, his voice soft and gentle. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "You look great too." As you exchanged pleasantries, a familiar warmth enveloped you, easing the tension that had gripped your nerves moments earlier. Jongho's presence felt reassuring, grounding you in the midst of your swirling emotions.

"Shall we?" Jongho gestured towards the café where you met him the night before, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. With a nod, you fell into step beside him.

Settling into a cozy corner of the café, you found yourselves immersed in a comfortable silence, punctuated by shared smiles and stolen glances. It felt surreal, being in Jongho's presence once again, yet undeniably right.

As a waitress brought your orders, you couldn't help but smile upon seeing Jongho's order. He caught your gaze, a question in his eyes as you smiled even wider. "What?" he asked.

"It's just... your order hasn't changed at all," you responded. Jongho's heart softened, he couldn't hide his happiness that after all these years, you still remembered this small detail about him.

Jongho's chuckle filled the air, "Some things never change, huh?" he remarked, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of amusement and affection. As he took a sip of his favorite drink, you couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of the moment—the way his smile illuminated the space between you, bridging the years that had stretched thin with absence.

"So, how did the meeting go? You seem to be at ease," you asked as you also took a sip of your warm drink.

Jongho took a deep breath, his gaze falling to his coffee cup before meeting your eyes again. "The meeting... it went well, better than I expected." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "I was nervous, of course. I didn't know how they would react. But they were understanding. They want to support me." He paused again, a thoughtful expression on his face. "There's a lot to consider, a lot of potential challenges ahead. But I feel... hopeful." He gave you a small, sincere smile, his eyes filled with determination. "They would like to make it public as soon as possible," Jongho added, "It's the best way to control the narrative so I wanted to ask you, how do you feel about it?" Jongho's words caught you off guard. You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts before replying. You understood the importance of controlling the narrative, especially given Jongho's status.

"That's... a lot to take in, Jongho. I understand why the company wants to move quickly, but I feel it’s too soon," you expressed, your voice laced with concern.

Jongho listened attentively, his brow furrowing slightly as he absorbed your words. "You need to know that it’s crucial that we let the world know. If the media finds out sooner than we release a statement, it can get ugly," he explained, his tone serious.

"I just want you to focus on meeting Nari first," you countered, your priority clear in your mind. Only a day had passed since Jongho found out about Nari's existence, and you felt like everything was spiraling out of your control. You wanted him in your lives, you did, but the way things were evolving felt like you were losing control and it made you panic. As silly as it sounds, you hadn't considered the fact that Jongho's popularity would inevitably put a spotlight on your daughter, too. This situation was more complex than you had anticipated, a factor you hadn't considered at first. What if you go public and within a few weeks, Jongho grows tired of being a father? What if he leaves? What if Nari becomes too much for him to handle? What if reality falls short of his expectations? So many questions swirled in your mind, yet answers remained elusive.

"I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you, but you need to understand that it’s best for us if we go public now." Jongho's voice pulled you from your thoughts. ''If we do, I won’t have to worry about getting caught spending time with her, and I'll be at ease." He reasoned; his voice laced with a hint of urgency.

"Then why do I feel like you are pushing me?" You snapped; the frustration clear in your voice. "Look, you can't just come into our lives and expect me to go along with everything the company or you want. It's not that simple."

Jongho looked taken aback by your sudden outburst. He ran a hand through his hair, a clear sign of his stress. "I'm... I'm sorry if it feels that way," he stammered out, his eyes filled with regret. "That wasn't my intention. I just... I just thought it would be best for us, for Nari. But you're right, I should have taken your feelings into consideration too."

"Do you even realize how this will affect her?" You finally voiced out the concern that had been eating at you. "Are you aware of the fact that by stepping into our lives, everything will change?" Your voice was steady, but the worry was evident in your eyes. "There will be media scrutiny, pressure, and unwanted attention. Can you assure me that you are ready for all of this? Can you assure me that you are ready to protect Nari from all of it?" You both sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Jongho looked conflicted, his gaze dropping to the floor as he processed your words.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand your concerns," Jongho began, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. "And I won't pretend that I have all the answers. But what I can assure you is that I'm ready to face whatever comes our way. I am ready to protect Nari, to be there for her, no matter what." His words hung heavy in the silence that followed, a testament to his sincerity and resolve. You could see the determination in his eyes, the unwavering will that had always defined Jongho. It gave you a glimmer of hope, a small but still hope.

"Jongho, I appreciate your willingness, and I don't want you to feel like I'm cutting your wings, but you don't know Nari at all. How can you be so sure you want to be her father?"

Jongho's face tightened, a mixture of frustration and desperation evident in his expression. "How can you ask me that?" he said, his voice low but intense. "She's, my daughter. I don't have to know everything about her to want to be there for her. I want to get to know her, to be a part of her life, to love her like a father should."

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to find the right words. "Jongho, it's not that simple. Being a father is more than just a title. It means being there for her every day, through the good and the bad. It means understanding her needs, her fears, her dreams. It's a lifetime commitment, not something you can just jump into because you feel guilty or responsible."

Jongho listened attentively, a mixture of emotions playing on his face. "I understand your concerns," he said solemnly. "I know it's not simple. But I am committed to this. I don't just want to be a father in name, I want to be a father in every sense of the word. And I am ready to make that lifetime commitment." His words echoed in your mind; you felt his sincerity. You looked at him, your eyes searching for the truth. And what you saw in his gaze was not just determination, but also a deep sense of resolve.

"Jongho, I've been doing this on my own for the past four years. Please, try to put yourself in my position. The life I've known is about to change drastically," you looked him in the eyes, your heart nervously pounding in your chest.

Jongho was silent for a moment, his gaze locked with yours. "I understand, and I'm sorry if I've been insensitive. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you," he said, "But I want you to know that I'm committed to being there for Nari, and for you, no matter what."

"No matter what?" you sighed. "Jongho, I've heard that before," you stated, your voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I heard it five years ago. I heard it right at the very beginning that you would be there for me no matter what. And you know what you did? You gave up." You didn't know what came over you to say those words. Was it fear? Was it a lack of trust? You knew it was a low blow, and you knew that five years ago the breakup was inevitable, that your relationship was doomed from the start.

Jongho's expression softened, regret evident in his eyes as he listened to your words. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he gently placed it on yours. "I understand your frustration," he said, his voice low and filled with sincerity. "I know I've made a mistake, and I can't change the past. But I can promise you that I'm committed to doing right by you and Nari now and in the future."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to his words. He was trying, you could see that. But it was hard to let go of the past hurt and the fear of the unknown. Still, you knew you had to give him the opportunity to prove himself.

"I appreciate your words, Jongho," you admitted, meeting his gaze. "But actions speak louder than words. I need you to show me that you're serious about this."

His grip tightened slightly around your hand, "I understand," he said, determination shining in his eyes. "And I will, I promise."

"Alright," you uttered in a gentle, almost whisper-like tone. "We have a lot to figure out, but I appreciate your commitment and I hope you will keep your promises."

"Thank you for giving me a chance," Jongho stated, as he gently squeezed your hand. In the whirlwind of emotions, you hadn't even noticed his touch, but now it sent shivers down your spine. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as you looked into his earnest eyes, the intensity of his gaze stirring something deep within you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the cafe around you buzzed with activity, yet in that small bubble you shared, it felt like time had slowed down. You found yourself captivated by the sincerity in Jongho's eyes, the determination to right the wrongs of the past clear in his touch. "I mean it, Y/N," he continued softly, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand. "I want to make things right." His words hung in the air, filled with hope. You felt a lump form in your throat, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of getting hurt again. Yet, as you looked at Jongho, you saw a flicker of the boy you had once loved, now a man ready to fight for a second chance.

Allowing a moment of vulnerability, you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words seemed to hang in the air between you and Jongho, a quiet plea in the midst of the swirling emotions. Your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and hope reflecting in your gaze. "Please," you found yourself saying again, the word almost lost in the silence that had fallen over the room. "Please be patient with me."

Jongho nodded understandingly, his gaze softening as he took in your words. "I understand," he responded, his voice gentle. "I'll be patient. We can take all the time you need." The warmth of his hand in yours was comforting, and despite the turmoil of emotions inside you, it brought a sense of familiarity and reassurance.

His understanding and patience gave you a glimmer of hope, a small but significant comfort in the turmoil of emotions you were feeling. "I appreciate that," you said, your voice steadier now. You paused for a moment, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I need time to adjust to this... to everything. And I need you to understand that."

Jongho nodded again, his gaze never leaving yours. "I do understand," he replied earnestly. "And I promise to respect your boundaries and give you all the time you need." His words, spoken with such sincerity, eased the tension in your shoulders. His reassurance brought a fleeting sense of relief, yet beneath it lingered a complex tapestry of emotions—doubt, longing, and a cautious hope for what the future might hold. You knew this journey would be fraught with challenges, uncertainties, and moments of vulnerability. But in that shared moment of understanding with Jongho, you found a fragile yet resilient thread to hold onto as you navigated the path ahead together.

You gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you," you said softly.

"I understand it might be a challenging situation for you. However, if you would allow it, I'd appreciate the chance to see Nari soon," he requested, his voice maintaining a gentle and understanding tone throughout.

The thought of Jongho spending time with Nari brought a mix of emotions. There was fear, of course, but also a spark of hope. After a moment of silence, you finally spoke. "That sounds like a good idea," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "We can start with a short visit, see how she reacts, and then decide the next step."

Jongho took a deep breath before speaking again. "Should I bring something, when I come to meet her?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "I could maybe bring her some ATEEZ related things?"

You looked up at him, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "In that case, just bring Wooyoung with you," you joked, your eyes sparkling with humor.

Jongho chuckled softly at your playful jab, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "I'll see what I can do," he replied with a teasing grin, playing along with your humor. The tension that had gripped the room moments ago seemed to ease, replaced by a light-hearted exchange that offered a brief reprieve from the weighty conversation. You appreciated the way Jongho could effortlessly lighten the mood, even in the midst of discussing serious matters. It reminded you of the connection you once shared, a bond that still held a spark of warmth and familiarity despite the passage of time.

After a moment, Jongho's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of sincerity. "On a serious note, though," he began, his voice gentle yet earnest, "is there anything specific she likes? I want to make a good impression." You appreciated his thoughtfulness and the genuine effort he was putting into getting to know Nari. It reassured you that he was serious about being a part of her life, despite the uncertainties that lingered between you.

"Well," you started, "she loves music," a smile tugging at your lips as you added, "just like her dad. " Jongho smiled right back at you hearing you finally referring to him as Nari’s dad. "Anything related to ATEEZ would definitely catch her attention. Oh, and she's a big fan of animals, especially puppies."

Jongho nodded thoughtfully, mentally noting down your suggestions. "Got it. ATEEZ merchandise and maybe something with a puppy theme," he mused with a smile. "I'll make sure to pick out something special for her."

"But please, for the love of God, don't bring her a real puppy," you interjected with a laugh, shaking your head at the thought of adding a pet to your already hectic life.

Jongho chuckled warmly, relieved at the lighthearted moment amidst the weighty conversation. "Noted," he replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "No live animals. I promise."

The tension seemed to ease between you both, replaced by a comfortable silence. You couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards Jongho. Despite the complexities and challenges ahead, his genuine effort to connect with Nari filled you with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful—for Nari, for you, and for Jongho.

"I want this to go well. I want Nari to feel comfortable around me," Jongho expressed earnestly, his voice tinged with determination and a hint of nervousness.

"Nari is a social butterfly; she likes people," you stated with a fond smile, pride evident in your voice as you talked about your daughter. "I’m sure she will feel comfortable," you assured him. "Just be yourself and take it one step at a time."

Jongho listened attentively, nodding as he took in your words. "I'll do my best," he replied sincerely, a mix of determination and nervousness in his expression. He appreciated your reassurance and advice, knowing how crucial it was to approach this meeting with patience and understanding. "I want to make a good impression on her," he added softly, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. Deep down, he felt the weight of responsibility as he prepared to meet his daughter for the first time. He wanted nothing more than for Nari to accept him into her life, and he knew he had to tread carefully to earn her trust.

You smiled warmly at him, grateful for his genuine effort. "I'm sure you will," you encouraged, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. "Just follow her lead, and let things unfold naturally."

With a nod, Jongho took a deep breath, steeling himself for the momentous occasion ahead. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity," he said earnestly, his gratitude evident in his voice.

"Maybe you could come around the day after tomorrow?" you asked him.

Jongho seemed taken aback by the sudden invitation but quickly recovered. "Of course," he agreed a soft smile on his lips. "I'd love to spend some time with Nari. And... with you," he added, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your eyes grew bigger with his words, and you suddenly pulled your hand away from his touch. Your heart swelled with a mixture of emotions. You felt a flutter in your stomach, but you pushed it down. Now was not the time for such feelings. Jongho's eyes widened slightly at your sudden withdrawal, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He quickly masked his reaction, a practiced ease settling over him. "Good. It's settled then. We'll see you the day after tomorrow," you said, the finality in your voice hiding the whirlpool of emotions inside you. Caught off guard by Jongho's words and by the way you had reacted to them, you quickly gathered your thoughts. Many emotions swirled inside you, yet you knew you couldn't afford to dwell on them yet. With a soft sigh, you looked at Jongho, your eyes reflecting a complex mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a hint of something else. "But for now, I have to go," you finally said, your voice laced with a touch of regret. Jongho's eyes widened slightly at the abrupt change in topic, but he didn't interrupt. "There are still so many things I need to take care of. Mom duties call," you added with a small, somewhat forced, chuckle.

"Can I walk you back to your apartment?" Jongho offered,

"No!" you responded quickly, the urgency in your voice surprising even yourself. Jongho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your sudden outburst. He was taken aback, but he tried not to show it. You hadn't meant to sound so harsh, but the thought of Jongho walking you back to your apartment was something you weren't ready for yet. After your abrupt refusal, the space between you fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel Jongho's gaze on you, filled with confusion and concern, but you kept your eyes trained on your hands, nervously fidgeting in your lap.

"Alright," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. Jongho simply nodded, understanding but clearly disappointed. "If that's what you want." You nodded, avoiding his gaze. The knot in your stomach tightened as you saw the understanding but clearly disappointed look on his face. You wanted to say something, anything really, to sweep the disappointed look from his face, but the words wouldn't form in your mind. So, you got up from your chair, somewhat awkwardly, and smiled at him, trying hard for the smile to seem real. "I'll see you soon," you said and with that, you hurried to the door. As you left the cafe, leaving Jongho utterly confused and disappointed, a heavy lump formed in your throat, and a flurry of mixed emotions swirled within your heart.

In your haste to leave the café, you didn't realize you had left your phone behind on the table. Your mind was a whirl of thoughts, emotions bombarding your senses as you made your way out of the café, walking down the street, lost in your own world. The crowd around you seemed to blur into the background as your thoughts consumed you, making you oblivious to the fact that you had left your device behind. Meanwhile, back at the café, Jongho was still sitting at the table, lost in his own sea of emotions. The way you had abruptly declined his offer to walk you home, storming out of the cafe without a second glance, played heavily on Jongho's mind. He sat there, his mind processing the conversation, the weight of your words still hanging in the air. Jongho couldn't help but analyze his words. Was it possible that you were uncomfortable with him implying that he wanted to spend time with you? He pondered, his mind racing with uncertainty. Had it been wrong for him to hope that you two could rebuild what once was? The questions left him feeling uneasy and full of doubt. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the phone you had left behind until it started to ring. The sudden noise startled him, his heart pounding quickly in his chest as he glanced down at the source of the sound. Seeing your phone lying on the table, he reached out and grabbed it with a sense of urgency. The ringing seemed unusually loud in the quiet café, each ring amplifying the tension he was already feeling. He swiftly picked the phone up, a sense of anxiety washing over him, his eyes instinctively glanced at the caller ID… Hyunwoo?

Many thoughts spun through his mind like a whirlwind. Who was this Hyunwoo? Was he a friend, a relative, or someone closer to you? The possibility that gnawed at him the most was, were you in a relationship with him? The question echoed in his mind, each repetition adding to his anxiety. He tried to dismiss the thoughts, to tell himself he was overthinking, but they were like persistent intruders, refusing to leave. The unanswered call, the ringing that seemed to grow exponentially louder with each passing second, felt like it was taunting him. His palms were sweaty, his heart racing in his chest like a drum. The name 'Hyunwoo' seemed to be etched in his mind, each blink imprinting it deeper. His gaze fell on the phone again, the screen now dark, the call ended. But the echo of the ringtone still seemed to linger in the air, a haunting reminder of the question that had now taken root in his mind. Jongho was left sitting there, alone in the silence of the cafe, the weight of the unanswered call and the unknown identity of this Hyunwoo pressing down on him. The sense of unease was wrapping around him like a shroud. As much as he tried, he couldn't shake off the thought of you being in a relationship with another man. It was a possibility he hadn't considered, and it filled him with a dread he couldn't explain. Just as Jongho was caught up in his thoughts, your phone screen lit up again. This time, it was a text message notification. Despite his better judgment, Jongho couldn't help but glance at the screen. The message preview displayed on the lock screen,

Hyunwoo: hi love! could you please call me back asap? can’t wait to see you today!

The text message hit Jongho like a punch to the gut. The words hi love and can't wait to see you today echoed in his mind, each phrase laced with an intimacy that confirmed his worst fears. Hyunwoo wasn't just a friend or a relative; he was someone special to you. The realization struck Jongho hard, sending a wave of mixed emotions crashing over him. He felt a sharp pang of jealousy, but also confusion and sadness. He had no right to feel this way, he reminded himself. You were entitled to your own life, and your own relationships. But knowing this didn't make the pain any less real. As he sat there, staring at the phone, a part of him wanted to call Hyunwoo back, to hear his voice and understand more about the man who seemed to hold such a significant place in your life. But he knew that would be wrong. This wasn't his business, and it wouldn't help the situation.

Instead, he took a deep breath and decided to focus on what he could do. You had left your phone behind, and that was the immediate issue that needed solving. He had to find you and return your phone. Determined to set aside his own feelings for now, Jongho stood up and left the café. He scanned the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the crowd. As Jongho walked down the street, your phone safely in his pocket, his mind raced with an onslaught of thoughts and emotions. He chastised himself for not asking sooner if you were seeing someone. How could he have been so naive? You were an attractive, remarkable woman—of course, there was a chance someone else had captured your heart during the years you were apart. The idea of you being in love with someone else felt like a knife twisting in his chest. Was he foolish to think you could rekindle what you once had? The possibility of being a family had seemed so tangible just moments ago. Now, the reality of Hyunwoo's message loomed over him, threatening to shatter that dream. Jongho's thoughts spiraled. He questioned if your heart had moved on if you had found solace in someone else's arms. How could you not, after all these years? Life doesn't stand still, and he had to confront the painful possibility that you might have found happiness without him. Jongho had held onto the hope that one day, you could rebuild what was lost. But now, doubt gnawed at him. Was it too late? With each step, the questions grew louder. The image of Hyunwoo's affectionate message replayed in his mind, fueling his insecurity. Jongho needed answers. He had to know if there was still a chance for the two of you, or if he was holding onto a dream that had long since slipped away. Finally, as he turned the last corner that led directly to your apartment complex, he saw you. You were heading towards a small, colorful playground. Relief and anxiety washed over him in equal measure. He called out your name, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and hope.

You turned, surprise and confusion flickering across your face as you saw him approaching. Jongho reached you, slightly out of breath, and pulled your phone from his pocket, handing it to you. "You left this at the café," he said, trying to steady his voice.

"Oh," you breathed out, taking the phone from him. "Thank you." You glanced down at the device, momentarily distracted, before looking back up at Jongho. "I didn't even realize..."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to ask you."

You looked at him, a hint of worry in your eyes. "What is it?"

"Mommy!" Your attention was quickly diverted by the sound of your daughter's voice. Turning, you saw Nari running towards you from the playground, her face lit up with joy. It was a sight that always warmed your heart,

"Sweetie," you greeted, bending down to scoop her up into your arms. Nari wrapped her arms around your neck, giggling happily. "Were you waiting for mommy?" you asked her, your voice soft and filled with warmth. As you looked around the playground, your eyes landed on your mom who was standing a little distance away, waving at you.

"Yes, mommy!" Nari replied excitedly. Jongho watched the tender scene unfold before him, his heart aching with a longing he tried to suppress. Despite the questions swirling in his mind, he couldn't help but feel a pang of affection as he saw you with your daughter. The sight of you two together was beautiful, yet it filled him with a bittersweet emotion. He yearned to be a part of it, to share in the joy and laughter.

As Nari looked over your shoulder, her eyes widened in recognition a bright smile spreading across her face. "Mommy, it's Uncle Jongho!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. She wriggled out of your arms and ran towards Jongho, her little arms outstretched.

Jongho, taken aback but pleasantly surprised, crouched down to her level, taking her in his arms. "Hey, Nari," he greeted, his voice soft.

"What are you doing here? Did you miss me?" She giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement and curiosity.

Jongho chuckled softly at her question. "Of course, I missed you," he replied, playing along with her innocent curiosity.

"Will you play with me?" she asked, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes glimmering as she looked up at him. Jongho looked at you, awaiting your response.

"Actually, sweetheart, Uncle Jongho was just leaving. But he'll come to play with you soon, alright?"

Nari's eyes lit up at the promise of a future playdate. "Really?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement. "Promise?"

Jongho nodded, managing a small smile despite the turmoil inside him. "I promise, Nari." His eyes met yours again, the intensity of his gaze reflecting his determination to keep his word.

Nari giggled, obviously pleased. "Okay! I will wait for you, Uncle Jongho!" After Nari's giggle subsided, Jongho gently set her back on her feet, giving her a warm smile. Nari beamed back at him, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "Remember," she said in a voice full of excitement, "you can bring Uncle Wooyoung with you!"

Her innocent request brought a genuine chuckle from Jongho, he nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do about that," he replied playfully.

"Me and Grandma made cookies for Uncle Wooyoung!" she stated proudly, her smile growing even wider. "I want to give him my cookies!" Her words were filled with such joy and anticipation that it was contagious. You couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

The way Nari's face lit up at the thought of giving cookies to Uncle Wooyoung touched your heart. "That's very sweet of you, Nari," you replied, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'm sure Uncle Wooyoung will love your cookies."

Jongho looked at Nari, his heart filling with warmth at her innocent excitement. "And I'm sure they're the best cookies in the whole world," he added, earning a delighted giggle from Nari.

Nari was quick to respond. "I have them in my backpack!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement. Before Jongho could react, she turned on her heel and dashed off towards her grandmother. Jongho watched her, his eyes never leaving her. He saw her reach her grandmother and point to her backpack. The older woman bent down and handed the small backpack to Nari, who eagerly began to rummage through it. After a moment, she pulled out a small purple box and turned back to face Jongho, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. With the box clutched tightly in her hands, she started running back towards him.

With the box tightly held in her small hands, Nari hurried back to Jongho, a wide smile on her face. "Here, Uncle Jongho!" she exclaimed, holding out the box to him. "These are the cookies!"

Jongho accepted the box with a soft smile, his heart warming at the innocent gesture. "Thank you, Nari," he said, his voice gentle. "I'm sure Uncle Wooyoung will love them."

"Promise you'll give them to him?" Nari asked, her eyes wide with hope.

Jongho nodded, meeting her earnest gaze with a gentle smile. "I promise, Nari." With that, he stood up, sharing a last glance with you, "I think it's time for me to leave," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. He looked at you and then at Nari, his gaze lingering on her cheerful face. There was a hint of regret in his eyes, a silent wish that he could stay longer, and be a part of this world that you and Nari shared. But he knew he had to respect your boundaries and give you the space and time you needed. So, with a heavy heart, he turned to leave, his steps slow and reluctant.

Before he could turn away completely, Nari's voice stopped him. "Bye, Uncle Jongho!" she called out, waving at him. "Don't forget the cookies!" Her innocent reminder brought a small smile to his face, momentarily easing the heaviness in his heart.

"I won't, Nari," he promised, waving back at her. Then, with a final glance at you, he walked away, his figure gradually disappearing into the crowd.

As you watched him leave, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was relief, yes, but also a strange sense of loss, a lingering sadness that surprised you. Despite the complexities and challenges ahead, Jongho's genuine effort to connect with Nari stirred a hopeful spark in your heart. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something beautiful.

#jongho x reader #jongho series #jongho x you #jongho x y/n #jongho angst #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez x y/n #ateez au

171 notes · View notes

sinisterexaggerator · 3 months

Text

Hard Feelings

Hancock x Fem! Sole Survivor / Reader Insert

(AO3)

Summary: You are the General of the Minutemen. Hancock is your companion when out on missions. It's all fun and games until there are hard feelings at play, the ghoul thinking that one day you just might leave him.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for PiV sex, public sex (sort of), MAKEUP sex, switching, praise kink, heavy petting and kissing, fingering, biting, angst, a small domestic dispute, and negative thoughts and feelings associated with oneself (Hancock). In this fic, Hancock displays golden retriever boyfriend energy, and he is more submissive. He also experiences low self-worth, and feelings of inadequacy, which leads to doubt. At some point, he has a panic attack.

Notes: Another fanfic that is completely self-indulgent. I was inspired when I took Hancock to the Starlight Drive-In for the Minutemen mission. We were briefly separated when I (sole) climbed onto the roof of the movie screen. Hancock ran around down below in a panic, thus this idea blossomed; I mention it in this post. I stole Teeth's nickname for Hancock: Hanni. ;D )

Word count: 4.7k+

A gentle peal of thunder rocked the night, just hours from daybreak, the eerie green glow of your pre-war Pip-boy casting its luminescence across the present object of your interest: a sullied movie poster. It was curling at its edges, the faded face of a starlet frozen in time with her mouth agape having snatched your attention, for better or worse, as this potential settlement had yet to be explored—there was no telling what lurked out there among the shadows.

Rita Jean Scarlett was staring into the eyes of not man, but insect, The Barfly calling out to you from a bygone era. It was an Old World tale of weird science gone wrong, filled with hubris and lessons learned all too late. Not too far off from the reality of things, you mused, though meant as fiction, actor Chip Weathers having adorned the costume of the “ghastly” monster for his starring role.

The creature had bulbous eyes and sticky clawed feet, yet wore a suit and hat. Once considered the stuff of nightmares, now things like this seemed to you like child’s play. You regularly joined in the company of ghouls; robots; synthetic humans, and even super mutants. You faced adversaries on the daily that would make prey animals of yesteryear look like teddy bears—an unnerving thought, but it caused you to smile regardless.

“What are you grinnin’ about?” a curious voice asked, the creak of worn red leather signaling his closeness; two thin arms encircled you, pitted hands smoothing over skintight, extruded rubber, shiny as the ghoul’s black eyes.

“Just about how things that used to be science fiction are now science fact,” you offered vaguely, casting a glance downward to the sight of yourself being molested, Hancock groping your tit—like any typical man—before it maneuvered lower, gliding over your belly to dip between your thighs.

“Hancock!” you breathed, your pulse quickening, loins already beginning to throb as blemished fingers stroked the line of your vault suit, teasing you at its seam.

“Hmm?” he hummed, ignoring the tone in which he had been addressed. He asked another question, even as he continued to fondle you sans mercy.

“Things like me?”

Hancock was unhurried, enjoying the sleek texture of the glossy fabric against the underside of his thumb. He was positive he was making you wet, wondering how long you might last before you were begging him to fuck you, just like a few hours previous.

However, his query caught you off guard, your mind preoccupied as your palm came to rest over John’s explorative hand, holding it firm, the ghoul taking liberty with your breasts again, cupping one’s shape to give it a squeeze.

“Things that shouldn’t exist? Like that monster up there who thinks he’s human,” he growled silkily, finely wrinkled digits pinching your pebbled nipple through that damnable suit that left nothing to the imagination, John’s prick hardening against the back of your leg.

“You might say that,” you replied without thinking, thoughts clouded with pleasure that would all too suddenly end, so careless was your answer that the ghoul recoiled.

“Really,” John flatly returned, as if for some reason not at all surprised, his warm, gentle touch leaving you longing, confused as to why he was beginning to walk away.

You turned from the ticket booth, staring after your lover as he kicked a loose rock across asphalt; it bounced, ricocheting off an overturned cigarette machine. Hancock pretended to be engrossed in the diner just up ahead, a part of the Starlight Drive-In theater, you both having been warned about raiders before traveling here.

“Hancock.” You followed closely behind; he did not pay you any mind, as if he had not heard you, acting about as mature as a spoiled child who was giving you the dreaded silent treatment.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you claimed, though it was the truth. To be asked that question to begin with seemed like he was fishing for flattery, but who were you to deny the charismatic Mayor of Goodneighbor a harmless stroke to his ego, especially when he meant so much to you.

“Is that where the “might” part comes in?” he snapped, his tone irritated; it was becoming obvious that he had not expected you to agree with him on such matters, the conversation quickly devolving.

“Is this our first fight? Are we fighting?” you asked, Hancock’s beady eyes narrowing beneath his hairless brow at the flippant way you were brushing off his feelings, or so he thought.

“Look, if you don’t want to travel with a ghoul, why didn’t you just say so— got better things I could be doing,” he groused, namely chems with his name on them.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to stop you from doing those better things,” you returned, not understanding why he couldn’t just forgive you for something said in passing.

“Always a smart ass,” he complained, as if Hancock himself wasn’t guilty of using his fair share of sarcasm.

Had you not been so heated, you may have remembered just how self-conscious the sociable, charming mayor actually was. His confidence was partially a façade, though he wasn’t one to normally bring down a mood with his own insecurities. Being the introspective sort meant that Hancock wasn’t afraid to get to the heart of things, even at the cost of his own self-esteem.

John had even allowed you in, being vulnerable by sharing details of his sorrowful past; it was no secret the ending had been bittersweet, if not unhappy. His own appearance had sickened him; he found it hard to believe a gal like you wanted anything to do with him, much less desire to share a bed together, especially since he wasn’t exactly a looker by human standards.

Perhaps you had failed to give him reassurance when it was needed, though temporarily blinded by your temper. Instead of trying to clear things up, you made it worse.

“You’d be one to know,” you baited.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hancock shot back, droplets of rain beginning to descend toward the ground.

“You know what? Go over there, check that place out.” You gruffly dismissed him, pointing toward the diner. “I think we both need some time to cool off,” you added, voice sounding less than amicable toward the man whose forehead lurched, as if he had been punched in the gut.

“Yeah? Fine.” John’s feelings were hurt more by this simple demand than anything you had said thus far, Hancock behaving like a scolded puppy whose owner had treated it unfairly.

You shook your head as you watched him march away, Hancock’s red frock coat glistening thanks to a now steady sprinkle. You sighed, turning toward a slew of rusting, run-down autos, spying a shed somewhere in the distance—you hoped it had a crafting station, as your orders from Preston Garvey were clear.

---

No raiders were present, only mole rats and radroaches. Hancock had kept his distance at your request, though you weren’t so oblivious that you failed to notice the way he routinely hovered only a stone’s throw away. The ghoul was caught basking in your shadow more than once, stealing glimpses, a frown pulling down the edges of his thin-lipped mouth. Yet he would move along the moment you laid your eyes on him, as if embarrassed, not wishing to be the victim of your ire.

Overall, he seemed to be taking things about as well as you had hoped, though he had technically been the one to start it. You weren’t a mind reader, either, refusing to try and decipher his body language despite the moping, waiting for a time you felt more at ease.

Although, it undeniably tugged at your heartstrings—knowing he was suffering in some capacity—but you kept a clear head, focusing on the task at hand—building a radio relay tower from spare parts in order to reach out to others, reclaiming the theater in the name of the Minutemen with the sole purpose of making the Commonwealth a better place, one settlement at a time.

It was when another accursed mole rat burst forth from its earthy den that you yelped in surprise, drawing your double-action revolver almost a moment too late. With teeth nipping at your toes, you shot the beast, Hancock having dashed to your aid.

You glanced back at him, rattled; he seemed satisfied knowing you weren’t hurt, though his gaze lingered, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue.

After a moment, he asked, “Can we talk?”

“Not right now.” You shook yourself off, taking a deep breath to assist in the slowing of your pulse. You returned to your workstation, deciding it wasn’t appropriate to address any more personal issues at this juncture—you both had a job to do.

“Sure, got it,” Hancock said grouchily, the ghoul wandering off to continue sifting through various piles of refuse for any usable materials to add to your haul, though inside it felt as if gnarled fingers were cinching tightly around his heart. Anxiety was welling within him, as not being on good terms with you did not sit right; beneath the surface, he was a troubled bundle of nerves, though he did not want to rush you by any means.

If only you knew about the disturbing thoughts that were crawling up John’s brainpan, slithering through the cracks to possess his mental faculties, feeding them fear; unsurety, outwardly expressed by way of a sour attitude. So involved was he with the many voices collecting in his head, that he failed to notice when you had finished installing the relay tower, your instincts guiding you to the Starlight Drive-in’s once magnificent three-story screen.

You took the stairs, moving past a shoddy door to climb to the top. The sun was newly risen, a fine mist hanging over the expansive parking lot, rays of light from your planet’s star casting a beautiful glow along remnants of grass, present in patches, though the area was plagued by the contamination of rads—another item on your to-do list.

You were enjoying the view when you observed Hancock poking around the last place he’d seen you, determining you were in a better mood and willing to talk. You had planned to call out to him when you saw him run the other way, circling the diner, and then the first place you had gathered—the ticket booth where you had exchanged unpleasantries.

Confused, you continued your study of his erratic behavior, wondering if there was some unknown enemy skulking about, yet Hancock had no weapon drawn, his gait all at once frantic and without rhyme or reason, the ghoul seeming to have no particular destination in mind.

“Hancock?” you asked yourself quietly, baffled at how John was going insofar as to peek inside doorless cars, or even under them, kicking into a full-fledge run as he made his way toward your perch. He wasn’t paying heed to anything that wasn’t at ground-level, failing to notice you up high above.

“Han—” you were enthralled, the ghoul almost as fast as a feral, which was a less than comforting thought, watching as John ran a lap around the base of the screen.

You followed, pushing off the railing to walk the few short steps to the opposite side, catching him turn the corner as he looped back around. It wasn’t until you heard his panicked breathing and the terrified whisper of your name that you completely understood, gut clenching as Hancock came to a disconcerting stop.

The poor thing looked to be having a meltdown, head darting to the left and right, though the only thing visible to you was the top of his tricorn hat. He began to pace, first one direction, and then another, not keeping to east or west, but zigzagging as if he couldn’t decide where to go, or what to do.

He called your name again, this time louder, sounding more distressed. You could not tear your eyes away as Hancock fell to his knees, fingers digging into soft dirt as the ghoul appeared to be in the throes of a panic attack.

Was he—

Spurred to action, you turned toward the way you came in, quick to rush down the stairs as swiftly as your legs could carry you. You sprinted around the bend of the building, nearly bumping into an abandoned cooking station off to your right, skirting it in the nick of time; you passed behind the structure, witness to a heartbreaking sight.

“Hey,” you whispered, Hancock having pushed himself back against the wall, knees to chest. The ghoul was tightly hugging his own legs, his marred face buried in the folds of his coat.

You weren’t sure what was happening, or why, only that he seemed deeply upset he could not find you, not expecting your brief absence would have such a negative effect. The ghoul was mumbling words you could not discern as you tiptoed forward, bending down to his level to address his huddled form.

“Hanni?” you asked gently, calling him by a pet name you had given him so long ago, John’s head shooting up, onyx eyes glistening, though you dare not think he had shed tears on your behalf.

Hancock gazed at you, his expression a mix of sadness, incredulity, and stark relief. You placed a hand on his shoulder, concern marking your features, John not budging from his half-fetal position.

“I thought—" he began, voice cracking, words quavering with an emotion you could not quite define, “—I thought you’d skipped out on me,” he offered pathetically, the amount of hurt present in his eyes enough to make you feel as if you deserved to die. So devastating was the look plastered across his handsome, ghoulish face that you wanted to cry, moving to cup his ruined cheek in the crux of your palm.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, tone soft but firm, staring at your reflection within gorgeous, dark depths, as if the answer lay hidden somewhere deep inside them.

“Because I don’t deserve you; because you can do better than me,” he answered without hesitation, “because who would want to be stuck with this ugly mug; wouldn’t wish it on my own worst enemy,” he finished flatly, Hancock’s dispirited disposition arising from being rejected—that’s not to say he blamed you.

“Didn’t wanna talk, ignoring me, couldn’t find you—just figured you were through,” he continued, tone solemn, making you feel awful.

You had deeply sinned to make this man react in such a manner—that was your first thought, Hancock’s gloomy mood permeating your defenses. All the walls you had in place came tumbling down, feeling nearly sick to your stomach as you scooched forward, prompting Hancock to drop his knees, legs finding even ground.

“No,” you berated, “none of that is true.” You shifted, straddling the ghoul, your other hand joining its partner to cradle his jaw opposite. “I won’t leave you,” you pledged, placing a kiss atop his furrowed mouth. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

Hancock searched your face; he expelled a dejected sigh, breathing out through the hollow cavity that once housed his human nose. “You—you’re the best thing I’ve got. I don’t want to lose you, sunshine. I’d be dead in a ditch somewhere if it weren’t for you, hopped up on chems,” he admitted, hanging his head. “But don’t think I would blame you for hittin’ the road. I’d manage, somehow. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to make do, so just say the word. Don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

“Is that what you think? That I would abandon you? That I would get sick of you? That I don’t want you here by my side? Hancock—” you emphasized, running your thumb over the curve of his ear, forcing him to look squarely at you with a gentle redirection, “—I mean it when I say I love you,” you lamented, kissing his raised flesh. “Please, don’t doubt me.”

John lifted his head with your help, the concave divot residing front and center brushing lightly across your cheek. He presented you with a kiss this time, his cock enlivening beneath you, unable to help his arousal at the admission of your heartfelt words.

“I won’t, not anymore,” he promised, another kiss administered, and then another, returning each touch of his lips with one of your own until they picked up in fervor, Hancock’s sly tongue subtly snaking its way between your teeth.

“That’s what I like to hear,” you cooed, warm, wet muscles intertwining in an orchestrated dance that rekindled the deep-seated ache of your loins.

“You listen so well,” you needled playfully; you had the ghoul’s number, knowing just what made him tick.

Hancock moaned a sound of gratitude, your impromptu praise causing his prick to flex, lean, wilted fingers creeping forward to place themselves deliberately along your thighs; they ran up the dips in your hips, and smoothed over the shape of your waist.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Hancock grated between avid swirls. His cock was riding up against your slinky blue vault suit—like liquid latex poured to conform to your body, it fit tight as a glove.

John held no complaints, only that you were still wearing it. Fortunately, you had ideas.

“Being such a good boy for me,” you teased, your own hands roving, exploring the contours of his slender chest and waist, sweeping back and forth; you hooked his partially corroded throat, carefully capturing Hancock between the crook of your palm, thumb trailing his Adam’s apple in a light caress.

“Not sure you know what that does to me,” he purred, the ghoul at your mercy as you gyrated your hips, your own sex succinctly aligned as you massaged his erection through faded black slacks.

“Are you so sure?” you asked, grinning into your kiss, one of Hancock’s hands sneaking along synthetic fibers for three fingers to stroke the underside of your jumper. He pushed up only slightly, cupping your mound; you felt it in your core, a subdued moan breathed straight into the ghoul’s mouth—Hancock was so turned on, it was a wonder he didn’t just nut right then and there.

“You teasin’ me, sunshine?” John panted, groping your breast, digits fingering stitchwork; you bit down on your bottom lip as you reached for the clasp at the front of your collar.

“Get this off me,” you instructed, fumbling with the pull of your zipper.

“Is that a request?” Hancock asked cheekily, though he did not expect an answer.

“An order,” you responded, feigning authority, Hancock doing as he was told, though there was a hint of a smile crawling up the side of his face.

“Yes, ma’am,” the ghoul chortled wryly, watching as you shed your suit like a second skin. You ushered it past the arc of your shoulders, the slopes of your breasts, to the base of your hips, leaving yourself half naked and assailable; John was unable to help his amorous stare.

“You’re so beautiful,” he declared, moving to knead doughy flesh, mouth finding your throat; Hancock sucked the sweat off your flawless skin, his other hand working its way underneath what was left of your vault suit, two fingers dipping into your already soaked cunt.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slipping in and out, thumb pushing itself between the folds of your labia to rub your throbbing bud.

“Yes, let’s,” you returned, swirling your hips, riding Hancock’s thick fingers as you clumsily moved to untie the flag wrapped about his narrow waist.

“Right here?” he asked, perplexed. Though not one to argue, being out in the open without cover was dangerous; he knew better than anyone the risks of the Wastes.

“I want you,” you answered, as if that in and of itself was all he needed to hear. You knew there might be consequences, but at that moment, your hormones were the ones in charge, a sharp gasp escaping as John’s fingers curled against the anterior wall of your sex.

“I’m all yours, love, forever,” Hancock vowed, following your example. He hastily unbuckled his pants after releasing your tit with reluctance, pushing apart the flaps to withdraw his glaring hard on; precum was already seeping out the slit at its head.

“Promise me,” you insisted, lifting up off your thighs—and Hancock’s fingers—to shimmy the rest of your suit down toward your knees. It might be a little awkward, but you were too desperate to care, taking up the ghoul’s girth in the breadth of your palm.

“Cross my heart and hope to—”

“Don’t you dare,” you protested, shoving your tongue back into John’s mouth, guiding his cock inside you. You sank down onto your haunches, inch by delicious inch, his variegated shaft filling you full up.

Then, the ghoul went rigid. “But sunshine, what about—”

“Shhh, that’s it,” you whispered, though Hancock hadn’t done anything to warrant a reprimand. It was your own descent that had you crooning, dipping forward to feel that delightful pressure snug against your walls.

“Not sure you wanna end up like—”

“—I took one a few hours ago, remember?” The darling man was more concerned with your well-being than even you; you could physically feel the tension leaving his body, John relieved to know you had things under control.

“You do love me,” you stated breezily, flicking the tip of your tongue inside the helix of the ghoul’s ear; Hancock shuddered, both his hands returning to your hips, touch featherlight, prompting you to press your palms against the partition behind him to prop yourself up on either side of his head.

“Wouldn’t mind you turnin’ Ghoul,” he replied throatily, thinkin’ spending an eternity with you sounded like the best damn thing a guy could ask for.

Hancock watched with bated breath as you rose up to enshroud him in your shadow, breasts level with his eyes. He groaned his appreciation, seizing your right nipple between puckered lips, John’s bony hips pushing up against the round of your ass. The ghoul sucked diligently, dull nails clawing gingerly into supple, human flesh, incapable of keeping a straight face.

“What was all that about not doubting each other?” John huskily reminded you, the point of his tongue flitting against your sensitive skin. He returned to suckling, as if a babe latched to nurse, the hand left idle finally slipping down your thigh. Hancock spread your lower lips apart with the underside of two fingers, a third taking its place atop your thrumming clit, engorged with blood.

“Shut up,” you urged, wanting him to belay speaking for fear the moment might spoil, Hancock grunting in indignation before he bit down lightly on your nip.

You gasped a broken breath, cunt rising to the head of his cock. You dropped back down; Hancock bottomed out, sequestered in the deepest part of you, snug as anything, the ghoul hypnotized by your pretty writhing.

“Why don’t you make me.” Hancock intensified the patient revolutions of blotched fingers, dragging you down by compressing your cheeks with his thumb and index; you slumped your shoulders just enough, angling to meet his current height, tossing your arms about John’s neck to humor him with another passionate kiss.

“Done.” You rocked forward, feeling Hancock’s sizeable member immured to its base. Indecent sounds kept each other company, the squish of your conjoined loins combining with the wet, obscene spirals of your whorling tongues. It wouldn’t take much longer to climax, your slick cunt tightening its grip on John’s rock-hard cock.

The ghoul’s chest heaved between ragged breaths, Hancock practicing his self-control. He didn’t want to cum until you did, sliding his palm up to carefully cradle the small protrusion distending your lower abdomen.

Feeling the outline of himself inside you was nearly too much to handle, a visible tremor preceding what was to be an early warning.

“I-I can’t hold back, angel.”

“Wait,” you countered, guiding the ghoul’s head toward your breasts, driving his noseless face into your cleavage; Hancock’s tricorn shifted backward as he followed your lead. He vested himself in the cocoon of your limbs, moaning his approval, grabbing onto a fistful of ass as your back arched in pleasure.

You opened your eyes to gaze at the sky—it was pale blue and cloudless, for once.

You came hard, the flat of John’s palm supporting your spine as you released your ecstasy to the heavens, the ghoul’s tepid seed discharging in spurts to paint your inner walls white; his ejaculate had been offered as payment for your lovely little song.

The ghoul felt overwhelmed and full of deep affection for you; Hancock’s teeth bore down on beautiful, unblemished skin; he broke capillaries, drawing your blood to the surface, leaving his mark in the form of a dark red welt.

You gasped at the bite, Hancock ensconcing you tightly in his arms, both of you allowing your orgasms to run their course. His grip was a comfortable vise, brittle nails burrowing into lithe flesh with almost paradoxical tenderness; John was always so careful with you.

From an outsider’s perspective, the embrace of a ghoul meant certain death, with the expectancy you would be rent into unrecognizable pieces. Such a pose as you presented now was questionable, one that evoked alarm from bystanders, settlers who had followed the beacon to their new home, expecting to find the general of the Minutemen, but not like this.

“Ghoul!” someone shouted; you heard the shuffling of leather, the clink of metal.

“No!” you yelled, protecting your lover with the entirety of your body, encapsulating his slight frame. You shielded his vitals with your bare back, hunkering down to speak to these newcomers over the peak of your shoulder.

“He’s not feral!” you growled, hating that you had to defend him, knowing how John must feel at this moment as he gazed up at you with surprised, wide eyes. You cared not that a horde of people had seen you naked; you only cared for Hancock, determined to preserve him and all his parts.

In reality, the ghoul was seconds from tears, knowing—without a doubt—that you had meant what you said. You were guarding his wretched life with your own without question, willing to die to keep him from harm, just as he gladly would have sacrificed himself to see you live another day.

A day, he thought, that might have been better off without him, but now he was glad to be alive (in some form or another), swallowing hard against the knot in his throat, eyes never once leaving your impassioned face.

“We’re together; we came here together, and we will leave here together, do I make myself clear?”

A person stepped forward, separating themselves from the crowd. “Yes, General,” they said, having fortunately, or rather unfortunately, recognized you.

With a sigh of relief, those gathered departed. John practically smothered you, so forceful was his hug that it nearly choked the air from your lungs.

Hancock didn’t know what he’d done to get someone like you, and he was afraid to ask. If there were any powers at be—something, or someone—watching over him, he supposed he’d owe them one, but for now he was more than happy to count his blessings. And the sad thing was, everything, all of it, could be a dream—or one long, hallucinatory chem-trip. If this turned out to be nothing but a fucked up Jet flashback, he’d just as soon never wake up.

“I’ll follow you to the end of the Wastes,” Hancock blurted, voice strained and rasping, fingers; arms; chest tightening as he spoke against soft tufts of hair. “You and me together, the world ain’t got a prayer.”

Despite what had just transpired, you cradled him against the bow of your neck, oblivious to the inner workings of his mind, only wishing to absorb him, for him to live in the space between your ribs that stored your heart. All you wanted was to keep him safe for all time, knowing that he deserved the world, though the ghoul would most certainly outlive you.

It was a melancholy thought, if ever one existed, but you did not allow your mind to dwell. “Sweet man,” you murmured, “it doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

—-

Fallout Masterlist

172 notes · View notes

howtofightwrite · 2 months

Note

Hello! I know yall have talked about how overusing violence in a story makes it less impactful especially if it doesn’t cause lasting impacts for the characters. In my story this lack of impact slowly clues the mc in that something is Wrong with [them/reality, they’re not sure] because hey, these things *should* be having some effects, healing in this setting may be magic but it’s not *miracles*, but I’m not sure how to differentiate it from the typical outcomes of violence in fiction that the reader will simply be used to seeing, outside just the mc’s thoughts on the matter. What are some things yall would want to see acknowledged and/or explored when treating violent encounters this way intentionally? Would someone become more violent (or more willing to do awful things to others when engaged in violence) over time when it didn’t have lasting consequences? Thanks!

Okay, so there's three separate things going on, and two of these intersect normally, but we usually approach them separately.

The first is the diminishing returns on violence; the simplest explanation would be that the less violence you have in your story, the more impactful (or potent) it will be. For example, looking at a pair of films from Tarantino's career. The violence is Reservoir Dogs hits much harder than the violence in Kill Bill. For example, if you've seen the former and I mention, “the ear scene,” you know exactly what I'm talking about. Yes, it's a somewhat gruesome scene, but it sticks with you, even decades later, potentially even to the point that you can't listen to Stuck in the Middle With You, without thinking of that scene. Now, how many people were decapitated in Kill Bill? It's a bit of an honest question, because I genuinely don't remember. While Tarantino has a well deserved reputation for violence, the violence in Reservoir Dogs is far more memorable, because there's far less of it, and the violence that occurs serves very deliberate story purposes. None of it is gratuitous for the purpose of, “here's a fight.” Where Kill Bill basically posits the question of, “how much can you cut out of an action film, while keeping the fight scenes, without the narrative completely collapsing?” As a result, there's a lot of violence, but none of it sticks with you. None of it has any particular impact. Even the moments that are supposed to be meaningful (such as the wedding) blend together.

Managing consequences of violence is more about preserving narrative tension. If that violence poses a real threat to your characters, then putting them in situations where they could be seriously injured or killed does have tension. But there are multiple points of potential failure with this thought process, and the more violence you engage in, the more risk you'll accidentally vent tension when you didn't intend to.

A major issue that can undermine your tension is when your characters, inexplicably, avoid harm. This is frequently an issue with non-powered superheroes, where throwing mountains of cannon fodder at them doesn't result in any meaningful wear and tear on the character.

Ironically, being too cavalier about violence can have a similar effect. Kill off too many characters, and your audience just won't care anymore about the survivors.

There are ways to manage this. A lot of the time a better option is to tie your characters' “fail state” to something other than your characters being hurt or killed. In fact, a lot of superhero narratives have to find other ways to maintain tension, because the protagonist is functionally immune to harm.

For example: The danger that a superhero will become completely ethically detached from their humanity. I hate to break it to you, but that's not a strictly new concept. The classic example of that is probably Dr. Manhattan from Watchmen, though The Comedian from the same is probably a better affirmative answer to your question. Could someone become completely debased when they're insulated from the consequences of their actions? Yeah. You don't even need fictional examples. Whoever Fights Monsters by Robert Ressler is a pretty decent, introductory, look into serial killer pathology, and the process of escalation they go through. Lack of adverse consequences can lead someone down a path to becoming their worst version of themselves.

Specifically talking about superheroes, Watchman casts a long shadow, and one of the issues that a lot of imitators suffered from was to pawn off a superhero's psychological problems into far more mundane causes, like abusive childhoods. (If you're wondering, this is why I'm not recommending things like The Boys, Irredeemable, or Invincible, it's because the only one of those that's even peripherally applicable is Invincible.) If you really want another example, Planetary comes to mind, though it won't be immediately apparent why that's relevant.

Something that's probably worth saying is, it's not about what I, or anyone else, wants to see from your work. This is about you finding the tools to do the best you can with your idea. So, I'm not really sitting her as an arbiter about what you can, can't, should, or shouldn't do. Rather, I'm mostly sitting here observing that, “this is how these things tend to work,” in a story. So, ultimately the decision is what you want to see in your work.

It's also worth remembering that hyperviolent media does exist. The violence doesn't have the same impact as in a more constrained narrative, but that doesn't make one story better than the other. I'm sure there are people who will argue that out of Tarantino's career, Kill Bill is the better film than Reservoir Dogs, (even if I'm not one to make that specific argument.) The point I don't often draw attention to, within the diminishing returns is, if you're going to use a lot of violence, it becomes difficult to pull out an individual violent moment and say, “no, this one's different; this one means more.” You can write an absolute gore-fest, but the individual moments of violence won't have the same kind of weight, and if you want one of those to carry more emotional weight, it's going to require a lot more care in how you structure your events.

A lot of the times with writing advice, it's not about, “right or wrong,” it's about identifying what works and what will take a bit more finesse to get working.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

134 notes · View notes

theyanderespecialist · 7 months

Text

Base Yandere Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons: He Will Move Heaven and Hell

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another chapter! This one, the base headcanons, and traits of Yandere Lucifer Morningstar from Hazbin Hotel! So wish me luck, anyway I hope you enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar From Hazbin Hotel is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and NOT to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it (You know who you are). Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life.)

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lucifer Morningstar From Hazbin Hotel-

.Lucifer has focused it looks like his last seven-ish years on not being a very active king of hell.

.Focusing on building his ducks and burying his depression.

.He does not have a LOT of people he sees on a day-to-day basis.

.Except for you, the person who is on his staff. It is your job to make sure that the king is taken care of.

.So you were more or less a babysitter and assistant to the king of hell.

.He was fond of you, okay that was a lie, he is right down smitten and obsessed with you.

.You are his ray of sunshine in the darkness of hell and he adores you.

.You have been with him for the last several years since his wife had gone missing.

.He had a strained relationship with his daughter and often talks to you about her.

.Telling you all the times he had with her. He just wants you to be part of his and his daughter's life.

.He of course still loves Lilith, but he has a love for you, where he NEEDS You.

.He often makes you ducks, he has given you so many duck-related things as gifts.

.He loves to spoil you, and a lot of time, it is something that is shaped like a duck or is duck themed, or is covered in ducks.

.He also loves to make your caramel apples as a treat.

.He will give you the best, because what is better than pure angelic power, especially from the man who so happens to love you the MOST?

.He does not want to share you and gets extremely guarded and protective of you when he deems a rival is around to threaten his claim to you.

.He is a lovable dork, and with his yandere side, this makes him also a TOTAL Puppy dog yandere.

.The slightest biggest love and affection and or attention that you show him he just gobbles up. He is very much "MY DARLING WANTS TO BE WITH ME!!!!! TAKE THAT DEPRESSION"

.He is also very much a physical touch kind fo romance, as Viv has confirmed.

.He loves to show his affection to you, with physical touch.

.Kissing up your arm, holding you in his arms, anything and everything. Even as things as simple as a graze of the hand.

.He loves to sing for you, writing romantic songs.

.But man oh man, can he be petty when it comes to rivals.

.Such as if Alastor were to say you and him were close.

.Who the fuck did that sinner think he was!

.He will have a constant dislike for anyone who tries to say they are something with you.

.He deals with rivals in two main ways. The first way, Being super fucking petty fr fr.

.Or by legit summoning hellfire which can burn them away and actually kill them.

.He does not play around when he gets to the point.

And if the person does hurt you, he will use the hell fire on that soul to kill them.

.He will show no mercy.

.You are the apple of his eye, his sweet love, a reason for him to stay in hell even if he was allowed back to heaven he would never go back because he adores you.

.He was once a dreamer, but he had lost those dreams until he found you, you gave him hope and the ability to dream again.

.To strive to be a better father, a better husband, and a better king.

.He would share you with Lilith 1000 percent. BUT ONLY LILITH

.He also will try and introduce you to Charlie as you will one day be her future step-parent.

.He is very nervous about this that is for sure.

.When he does confess to you he is beyond nervous and awkward.

.Because he is worried if it will go right or not.

.If you accept his feelings he takes you in his arms and flies into the air spinning around and kissing you.

.If you turn him down he feels his heart shatter, but he will ask if you are two are still good, but he is not giving up.

.He will try his best to "Mend" things and then slowly court you, so the next time he confesses to you, you say yes.

.He does this until he gets a yes.

.He is determined, and also a very protective yandere as well.

.He will face heaven to keep you by his side, so if somehow you got redeemed he would storm heaven and bring you back.

.He is not losing you, you belong to him and will be his future spouse, future co-parent, and future co-ruler.

.He will move heaven and hell for you, that is a fact!

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]

#yandere #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere headcanons #headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader

293 notes · View notes

myfandomrealitea · 6 months

Note

Is normalizing problematic stuff in fiction actually harmful to others in real life, or is that just something said to prevent further talk of such things?

The notion that fiction can in any way normalize "problematic stuff" is a discussionary roadblock in much the same way that the moment you try talking to certain people about certain things they whip out pedophilia as a trump card.

Its also why its actually so fucking important that from a young age we are given proper, well-rounded education and opportunities to exercise things like critical thinking, self-reflection and the ability to analyse what is in front of us to form our own conclusions instead of blindly following and believing whatever we see at first glance.

(Which applies to everything.)

Its also why its so important to separate things like creative appreciation and reality. Which we see in the whole anti vs proship debate all the time. We are supposed to observe fiction from the outside. We are not supposed to try to convert reality into fiction or exist in the real world as if we are in fiction.

Have you ever watched Hannibal and gone out to kill someone to turn them into a fancy European dish? Have you ever watched Game of Thrones and tried to fuck your sister?

Lolita is another prime example. The amount of people who didn't understand the actual point of Lolita and still don't is fucking staggering. Lolita is supposed to make you uncomfortable because you know its not right. You know its not normal. It doesn't romanticize or normalize pedophilia and older men going after young teenage girls. It does the opposite.

There are two types of people who believe or are susceptible to believing things they see in fiction are acceptable in real life; the uneducated and the mentally unstable.

#myfandomrealitea #sephiroth speaks #reality #fandom #discourse #proshipping #proship #fanfiction #tv #movies #fiction is not reality #profic #profiction #pro fiction #proshipper

177 notes · View notes

6lostgirl6 · 8 months

Text

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester

TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Oh, he’s pissed.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.

Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim

316 notes · View notes

requiemforthepoets · 14 days

Text

babysitting duties 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: who knew that babysitting your four-year-old niece would make you feel things and imagine a life with lando, with a kid and family of your own.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: all these lando interactions with kids in my fyp got me, so here you go. hope you enjoy this one! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

WARNINGS: typos, photos grabbed from pinterest, inaccuracies of the photos, and baby fever

It was a busy race week, but it didn’t stop you and Lando from taking on a new role as temporary guardians. Your brother and his wife are currently away for a business trip, and flew their four-year-old daughter, Chloé, to Monaco to be in your care for three weeks, so that’s basically a whole month with her. Chloé had quickly become attached to both of you, especially Lando, who had easily embraced the added responsibility very proudly. Now, she’s living with you both in your shared apartment in Monaco, and despite the busyness of the race week, she was certainly coming along for the ride.

You entered the paddock hand in hand with Lando, while he was carrying Chloé in his arms, balancing her weight effortlessly as if he’d done it a hundred times before, with her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. Chloé, with her bright eyes and boundless curiosity, had become an instant star amongst the paddock. She was also dressed to coordinate with you and Lando, with miniature personalized ear defenders completing the whole ensemble. You couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly she charmed everyone around her.

“She looks so much like you two!” Someone exclaimed as you passed by. Lando quickly gave you a playful nudge.

“Well, we do make a good-looking family, don’t we?” He said cheekily, sending you a wink. You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of rolling with the misconception that Chloé was your daughter suddenly became amusing for you.

“You two look like a proper happy family, eh?” Carlos teased as he approached, grinning mischievously, and giving Chloé a high five.

Lando chuckled, glancing over at you with a playful smirk. “Maybe we should let them think that, huh?”

You playfully rolled your eyes and chuckled, “you really have a knack for stirring the media, don’t you?”

“Anything to keep them in their toes.” You all laughed. “Let them have their field day. They want headlines, then let them eat this up.” He added.

Chloé, oblivious to the whole conversation that is going on, tapped Lando’s shoulder gently. “Can we see the cars now, Uncle Lan?”

He ruffled her hair and pressed a soft kiss on her temple. “In a bit, Koko. First, we have to make sure that Uncle Lan wins this weekend.” She giggled, her innocent laughter melting the hearts of the people around.

As the three of you continued through the paddock, other drivers couldn’t help but stop and coo at her and with Lando joking that Chloé should call Fernando ‘grandpa nando’, in which the older didn’t mind, and find Chloé a very wonderful kid. She even got Oscar to play with her, pretending to race alongside her as she ran towards him, he got Chloé to behave like a car, and squealed so hard with laughter, clearly enjoying every second of her playful interaction with Oscar.

Then Max came over, pretending to be serious but a soft smile was threatening to break through. “I didn’t know you two had a secret kid. When did this happen?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “She’s my niece. But for the thrill of it, let’s start some rumors.”

“Could’ve fooled me! You three looked like a picture-perfect family.” Max smirked, “she’s too cute not to be yours, mate.”

“See?” Lando chimed in, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “Told you, we’re a great team. Maybe we should borrow her every race weekend, love. Just to keep everyone guessing.”

“Yeah and I’ll get an earful from my brother in return for making her miss Kumon just to attend a race weekend with us.” You laughed, shaking your head.

Chloé had asked to be brought down from Lando’s arms, wanting to walk, and now, she’s swinging between the two of you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way Lando looked at her. Lando had always been really great with kids, but seeing him in this light, with Chloé, felt like something deeper. There was an unspoken ease in the way he handled it, as if it wasn’t a huge leap from where you both already were.

Just then, Charles strolled over, taking a good look at the three of you. “A mini Norris already?! This weekend just got more interesting, huh?”

Before you could reply, Chloé pointed at Charles’s shirt. “I like your red shirt!” She announced, earning a laugh from everyone around.

Charles knelt down to her height, his eyes lighting up with genuine affection. “Thank you! I like your ear defenders. Maybe one day you’ll be in the car too?”

She beamed, nodding with all the confidence in the world. “I will! And I’ll beat Uncle Lan!”

You all burst into laughter, and Lando playfully feigned shock. “Whoa, hold on! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“Koko is really adorable.” Charles smiled as he put out a hand for Chloé to high five, “can Uncle Charles get a hug?” She giggled and ran up to Charles, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck.

You smiled, watching the scene unfold, heart full from how she effortlessly fit into this world. It was sweet, chaotic, and somehow, everything just felt right. But honestly, all of this is making you feel a little bit of a baby fever.

The day continued on and more drivers stopped by to say hello, each of them being enamored. Even some of the team staff were swooning over how adorable she runs towards Lando and climbing to sit on his lap during brief moments in the garage. Lando even gently placed her inside his car, much to her delight. Chloé’s eyes sparkled as she explored the cockpit and touched the steering wheel, her giggles echoing through the garage. The whole team watched it all with fond smiles, exchanging knowing looks.

Chloé continued to win everyone’s heart, even joining Lando in signing autographs, and each time a fan got their merch signed, she’d beam proudly and say, “I helped!”

At one point, Toto passed by, taking one look at the three of you and shaking his head with an amused grin. “You two should just get married already and have one of your own. This one suits you.”

You blushed, the thought of you and Lando getting married and having a child of your own. Stammering out a response as Lando laughed beside you. “Oh no, we’re…we’re just babysitting.”

“Sure,” Toto said with a knowing wink before walking away.

By the time the day came to an end, Chloé had fallen asleep in Lando’s arms, her tiny body curled up against him. You glanced over and saw how tenderly Lando held her, stroking her hair softly. Witnessing this scene had made your heart flutter and melt.

“You know,” Lando said quietly, not wanting to wake her, “if this is what having a family looks like…I wouldn’t mind having one someday with you.”

You smiled, feeling your chest tighten with a mix of emotions. “Someday,” you agreed, leaning in to kiss him on the lips and him meeting you halfway.

For now, this was enough—an amazing race weekend, Chloé, and the unexpected joy of playing family for a little while. It was sweet, it was funny, and it was everything you didn’t know that you needed.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbrother, yoursisterinlaw, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 67,938 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername when koko is in monaco ✨ on babysitting duties while the parents are away! yourbrother & yoursisterinlaw 💗

view all comments

username1 GIRL DAD LANDO!!!!

username2 not her decking lando’s car with stickers 😭😭😭😭

yourbrother so the little monster went karting, huh ♥︎ liked by the author

yourusername yep, she has been BEGGING landonorris 😭😭😭 you might have a future racer in your hands soon 😆

yourbrother should we start saving now? 🙂‍↕️

landonorris oh you should, mate. koko’s got some talent

yourbrother 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

yourusername oh come on u drama queen, not like you can’t afford it 🤥 also lan asked if koko can join us every race weekend 😂

yourbrother ?????? make your own ?????? she can’t miss her kumon

landonorris what do you say, love? 🤩

yourusername marry me first??? 🤨

landonorris won’t be a problem 🤪

yourbrother already asking her to marry you, when you haven’t gotten our blessing yet? 🤨

landonorris working on it!

yourusername 😭😭😭😭

landonorris she’s (and our future kids) the only one allowed that can deck my car in stickers ♥︎ liked by the author

yourusername already thinking about the future, huh 🤨🤨🤨🤨

landonorris ofc??? you’re the only one that i want to spend my life with, woman

yourusername aw, lan 🥺 i love you 🫶🏻

landonorris i love you more 🤪❤️

username3 not this post and all the comments calling me single 😔

username4 HER KART NUMBER IS LANDO’S NUMBER TOO 🥹🥹🥹

lilyzneimer it was a pleasure meeting koko! she’s such a pure sweetheart! 🥺💗 ♥︎ liked by the author

yourusername she’s happy to meet you too, lils! when we got home, she asked me when can she meet you again 😆

lilyzneimer omggg what a sweet baby! i’ll visit you guys in monaco before she heads back home to france! ❤️

yourusername ofc! just beep me anytime 🫶🏻

username5 SHES DEFINITELY THE STAR OF THE PADDOCK!!!!

yoursisterinlaw thank you so much for babysitting koko, you’re the best! 🥺❤️ ♥︎ liked by the author

yourusername anytime!!! she’s such an angel ❤️

yoursisterinlaw you and lando are both life savers! i hope she’s not giving you a hard time

yourusername oh nooo, she’s such a good kid!

yoursisterinlaw thank you! we’ll see you by the end of the month ❤️ ♥︎ liked by the author

username6 oh i can already imagine the moment y/n and lando have their own kids 🥹

username7 lando is born to be a girl dad!!!!

username8 he’s gonna be the BEST dad

username9 NOT OSCAR MAKING KOKO ACT LIKE A CAR LMFAO THE EXACT SAME THING HE DID BACK WHEN HE WAS A KID 😭😭😭

username10 y/n and lando being the fun and cool aunt and uncle 🥺🫶🏻

username11 HER PUTTING STICKERS ON LANDO’S CAR IS SO CUTE WTF 😭

username12 lando with kids is definitely top tier, chef’s kiss

998 notes · View notes

wen-kexing-apologist · 8 months

Text

Last Twilight: Ep 12

The TL;DR of this post is just... Sincerely what the fuck?

I remember posting after Episode 1 that I was keeping a suspicious eye on the mention of the eye donation because while I do think in real life disabled people have the right to manage their disability any way they want to and would support someone's choice to get a cornea transplant, real life is not fiction and fiction is designed to pull messages and themes from. Episode 12 from almost it's first moments completely undermines two and a half month's worth of messaging about learning to accept a new reality. I don't think it is foolish of me to assume based on the set up of the first episode that Last Twilight was supposed to be an exploration of grief as told in conversation and parallel between someone who lost a loved one and someone who lost their vision.

If this story had continued in the way it started out the first half of this show, I honestly think it could have been a 10, those first few episodes I was enjoying so much I was worried it might knock out Moonlight Chicken as my favorite Aof offering. Now I have rated Last Twilight as a 3, I will never suggest it to anyone and I will never rewatch it. Why?

Because from a fictional narrative perspective, having Day gain his vision back at the end undermines the entirety of the show's messaging from the first 11 episodes. Every single lesson, every single message just absolutely obliterated by every moment of Episode 12.

Day getting his vision back right as he and Mhok get back undermines the narrative in the following ways:

Rewarding Day for managing to create a successful and happy life as a blind person (literally like "hey you graduated and ran a bookstore while blind! Congrats you get to be normal again!)

"Rewarding" Mhok by insuring that he never has to do any caregiving for Day going forward so we don't get any navigating or expectation of Mhok and Day being in a longterm inter-abled relationship

We eliminate all chances that the subject of pitying Day re-enters any future fights, meaning there is now zero risk for Day maintaining a relationship with someone he worries might infantilize or pity him

It absolves Night of any remaining guilt he may be carrying from thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind

It absolves Day of any remaining anger at Night thinking he caused the accident that made Day blind

Mhon's ableist fucking ass gets her "normal" son back the way she confided in Mhok she'd hoped for after the first failed cornea transplant

It undermines the theme of the in universe Last Twilight novel and the conversation that Day and Mhok have about Mee being turned in to a statue on the top of the mountain and how that was hopeful because her father had found a sight so beautiful he couldn't think of anywhere else Mee would need to see and instead turns the message essentially in to: "there is hope, you can be cured"

It dismantles their cute couple thing of the one palm distance which also makes the OST that they played all the fucking time completely irrelevant

And most importantly, it undermines all the growth that Day went through while processing his grief and the two, TWO separate occasions where he came to terms with his disability

And that's just the disregard for the narrative messages, giving Day his eyesight back is incredibly ableist in the case of this story because of certain ableist through-lines woven in to the entire show. Namely:

While Day is blind, there is no reciprocity of care. Mhok is always taking care of Day, I cannot think of a single instance where Day really took care of Mhok in a significant way. By focusing so much on Day, and abandoning any strong focus on Mhok's grief over losing his sister, Day is never given an opportunity to be a support system for Mhok. Which is fucking ableist. Disabled people have so many things to offer the world, and while they might have specific support needs that does not mean that they can't offer support in return.

Mhok doesn't introduce Day to his family at their graves until after Day has his vision restored, and it is only then that Mhok says he has someone to take care of him. Able-ist!

Day gets his vision back almost immediately after a conversation with his mother where she says he wants to be normal and the fight he had with Mhok is normal.

Handling the entire story this way, with the break up, and a three year time gap, and then Day having his vision restored literally hours after he and Mhok get back together does not allow for any exploration of Mhok and Day having to figure out the differences between Mhok being his caretaker and Mhok being his partner.

We shunted literally every part of Mhok's backstory completely to the side, which in and of itself is fucking ableist in my opinion because it implies that able bodied people who are caretakers for or who are in a relationship with a disabled person don't have any time for themselves, to deal with their own shit or to have their own needs because they are too busy taking care of a disabled person.

With this being, what, the first main character in a BL with blindness, you want to go for the cure route after acceptance? Like you are rewarding someone for their bravery of handling their disability instead of allowing the disabled person to remain happy and thriving in the life they have built for themselves while they continue to be blind?

I'm not blind, so forgive me if I am overstepping at any point here but in my opinion, if you want a narrative that gives Day back his eyesight, that story that not be written by a sighted person. You need blind writers, people with the lived experience having control over the story so the narrative is better able to navigate the complexity of a decision like that, to reverse a character's blindness. I just think blind people would be able to minimize how much returning someone's eyesight might come off as ableist in a story like this. Additionally going the cure route is not a choice I think anyone should be making with the first BL that focuses this heavily on blindness. This world is so fucking ableist, if you want to make a story with a disabled main character with how slim of pickings there are, it feels much more responsible and subversive to go a disability pride route.

And these are just the issues around disability in this show, I have problems with the classism in this show, I have problems with the absolute ridiculousness of Mhok and Day's breakup and their reunion. MHOK APOLOGIZES, MHOK THANKS DAY FOR BREAKING UP WITH HIM, DAY DOES NOT APOLOGIZE FOR BREAKING UP WITH MHOK OR BLOCKING HIM ON SOCIALS FOR THREE YEARS BECAUSE MHOK PITIED DAY ONE (1) TIME. I get not wanting to be pitied, I get it, but seriously it is so much less compelling to have Day just completely abandon Mhok after all of the positive experiences they've had together because he messed up once rather than reel himself back in and have an adult conversation about what happened and try to get back to a balanced state.

Anyway, fuck this show. I am so disappointed that this is Aof's last directed piece for who knows how long. He could have gone out with a bang after Moonlight Chicken and now I am just fucking thankful I won't have to see anything else from him for awhile.

#last twilight #last twilight the series #let me reiterate that real life is different than fiction #disabled people have all the right in the world to handle their disability and any associated treatments however they want #this is fiction #and fiction reaches a wide audience and therefore has a responsibility in its messaging #last twilight meta #last twilight analysis

158 notes · View notes

wtftarot · 2 months

Text

PAC: How can you face your demons?

Thanks to @lifeofaie for the inspiration for this one!

Demons. We all have them and they come in all shapes and sizes, what are yours? Are they tiny ones on your shoulder, whispering in your ear? Are they hulking and bloody and hunting you down? Only one way to find out!

TW: We are talking demons if you think this is gonna be an easy-to-read-easy-to-swallow reading, then you may wanna look up the definition of demons. This reading WILL deal with sensitive topics, I will put warnings for each group but DO NOT READ IT IF YOU ARE IN A BAD PLACE OR FEEL LIKE THE TOPICS MAY FUCK WITH YOU. I AM NOT A THERAPIST. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF PLEASE.

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes ONLY and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity.

Pick Group One, Two or Three and head to your reading.

ps I don't know why I'm hearing the Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction theme right now but I am? Sound off in the comments if you watched that growing up

Group One

Eight/Cups Rx, Three/Wands, Three/Cups Rx, The Devil, Ace/Swords Rx and the Hanged Man Rx on the back of the deck.

Demons (TW): Isolation, Abandonment, Not feeling Real, self-identity If you came to this reading and are having delusions or something about not being real, please find guidance from a professional. As soon as I pulled the first card for y'all I heard 'stop running'. It looks like y'all maybe, possibly avoiding/sabotaging relationships and you don't realize how much this is fucking you over. Some of y'all have friends/relationships but are not truly letting them know you. Others are self-isolating full-stop. I don't know why you're doing this, maybe you've had shitty relationships in the past. Maybe you've just convinced yourself you're a loner and that maybe true, here's the thing though, you're taking loner to an extreme. You never let people know you and then have this inner turmoil because you feel unknown, abandoned, and alone. It's also making you feel like you're not really Here or not Real. (Side note: Yall are TOUCHSTARVED) You're questioning the reality of yourself. Like somehow you're separate from the rest of the world. When you're not being your true self with others they treat you as someone else, so you start to feel like someone else BUT at the same time, your true self is SCREAMING at you inside, dying to come out. Honey, you can't keep abandoning yourself. Now this next bit ain't a call out, but you may be projecting the resentment you feel about not being your true self onto others. Angry and wondering why can't they see you? The REAL you. You may even be feeling like they're asking too much of you, asking you to be someone you're not. (For some of y'all I don't doubt that's the case. ) Thing is, they can't see you if you don't let them. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of times when people refuse to see you wholly as you are. (wholly is a fuckin weird word) When that happens though, it seems like you're taking others' word as law on who you are. All of this is giving this weird disconnect between you and others. Then it's like, what's the point in trying to build relationships with others? You end up drained and having to keep up a facade, why keep doing that to yourself right? There's a side effect of avoiding (authentic) relationships though. You see, friendships are very good at keeping our inner narrative in check. When we self-isolate there's no one to challenge our downward spiral-shit show (only scrolling, never talking to others online counts as self-isolating btw,) Our relationships help us see the world and ourselves clearer, but only if we can be honest. I'm saying all of this because I'm getting the feeling that y'all are REALLY fuckin hard on yourselves. Ok, ya know what we're gonna take a minute and breathe. Are you breathing? Nice, slow breaths. Cause that was a lot, wasn't it sweetheart? We're on to the easier bit now, alright? Ok, with this energy, I'm betting y'all get told you need to do more grounding a lot, Right? Like, no matter how many grounding techniques you do, you can never seem to actually get grounded? It may have more to do with grounding who you are into reality. I mean, it doesn't matter how grounded in the moment you are if you're not behaving as your authentic self you're not going to feel connected at all. It may be that you only really feel like yourself when you're alone. There's no way around this, babe. You have to try to build genuine connections with people. I'm talking heart-felt, emotionally-connected friendships and relationships. I know, I know it SUCKS. Good thing is, those relationships take time to build. You should go slow and build that type of trust over time. If you have people who you feel like you could start to be more authentic around, take baby steps. Be honest with how you feel. I also just heard 'learn to lean on others' . Spirit's making me a fuckin hypocrite. Y'all know it's okay to receive support right? Connections make you stronger. You can't isolate yourself into being the person you want to be.

random ass vibes: GOAT, papertowels, Justice, swords

If you liked this reading or want to support me, you can leave me a tip with the thing at the bottom of this post or tell me what you thought in the comments

Group Two

Three/Cups Rx, The Magician, Ten/Cups Rx, Ace/wands, Five/Swords Rx and the Five of Wands on the back of the deck

Demons (TWs) Bullying, Negative self-talk/ self-hate

I'm getting the sense that y'all beat yourselves up a lot without realizing it. Y'all seem to think that everyone berates themselves as much as you do and that's just not the fucking case, honey. I feel like y'all are a prime example of if you hear a lie often enough you start to believe it. With the Three and Ten of cups both in reverse, y'all have been around some SHITTY people. And I don't think y'all had enough positive voices in your corner to help combat the shit you were being told about yourself. What's more concerning is some of you, most of you even, don't see how you're shitty inner dialogue is a problem. I'm not going into what I'm feeling y'all are saying to yourselves, that shit doesn't deserve to be voiced. Y'all are so fuckin talented and wonderful but every moment of every day is filled with these thoughts that you're horrible and you wonder why you can't seem to get shit done. Or why you don't feel that motivated to do anything. Then when you can't seem to get anything done, you use that as evidence that those shitty thoughts are right and beat yourself up EVEN MORE. Goddamn honey. Your mind is incredibly powerful and you're using that power against yourself. Maybe at one point you did argue with the shitty people or shitty thoughts but it got so overwhelming that you stopped fighting it. I keep hearing 'take up your wand'. It's time for y'all to push back against the thoughts a bit. One thing I'm getting might be helpful is to listen to positive affirmations. I'm not trying to say that they'll fix your life but if any of what I'm feeling is accurate, some of y'all have NEVER had any consistent positivity in your life and just listening to someone talking positively about you would help balance the scales out a bit. You don't even have to believe what they're saying, it's like that saying I mentioned earlier. You probably disagreed with the shitty things people told you about yourself at first too. Or at least felt like they were being mean and unfair, but you heard it over and over until you believed it. Listening to positive affirmations can do the same thing. I just heard 'don't let it get to you' I feel like y'all were really passionate and cared a lot about what people said, so you fought and you may be told parents/teachers and they gave you the whole 'they're only doing it to bother you, so don't let it' bullshit, instead of helping you. You may have even gotten in trouble when you tried to fight back. Cause people being shitty SHOULD bother you. That's not you being too sensitive, it's you knowing that you don't deserve to be treated like shit. I think it would be helpful for y'all, if you have a therapist or someone kind and honest and who you trust, to tell them some of those lil tapes you have on repeat in your head. Seriously just ask, I have this thought in my head about myself can you tell me if it's grounded in reality or not? Cause, the fact is that y'all don't even fully realize how horrible you're being toward yourselves and need some outside perspective. I'm also seeing you may have a habit of really seeking out romantic relationships because you're really wanting to be treated with some gentleness and kindness but have never been shown that in a platonic relationship and media really only shows that level of intimacy in romantic relationships. I hate how cliche this will sound but y'all need to surround yourself with positivity. Cause y'all are starved for it. I don't mean toxic positivity or the 'live, laugh, love' sunshine and rainbows positivity. I mean kindness. I mean warmth and acceptance.

random ass vibes: bitchy kindness lol, lighthouses, lions, 1414

If you liked this reading or want to support me, you can leave me a tip with the thing at the bottom of this post or tell me what you thought in the comments

Group Three

The Empress Rx, The Sun, Seven/Swords, Ten/Swords Rx, The High Priestess Rx and the Four of Wands Rx on the back of the deck.

Demons (TWs): Abuse.

If you are currently in an unsafe situation the phone number for the abuse hotline is 800-799-7233.

I'm smelling old cigarettes. Which will seem a little random but with it came the image of my great-aunt's house, she was a heavy smoker (and not to overshare) but her house was one of the few places I felt seen and safe growing up. Her house was warm and welcoming, and she was into all the weird dark shit I was fascinated by then (and now). The smell of cigarettes always makes me feel safe, even now. I feel like y'all need to cultivate an environment where you feel safe because you will be a safe place for others. Y'all do or will have an energy similar to my great-aunts Why is this coming out in a 'how to face your demons' reading? All of the reasons I felt so safe at her house were all of the reasons most of our family didn't like her. I think, that y'all have been wounded in a way where people have taken and taken from you. Have convinced you that you're nothing when they're the ones draining you until you have nothing left. My great-aunt was in an abusive relationship before I was born, from what I've been told she was totally unrecognizable, he made her small, meek. As long as I've known her she's one of the loudest, boldest people I've ever known. If someone's made you feel like the only way you're allowed to show up in the world is by being small or hiding yourself, I'm here to tell you that that's not the case. I don't know your situation exactly or at all. The Empress and The High Priestess are in reverse here, I feel like y'all are meant to embody those cards in the upright but whatever you've gone through has made you feel like it's not safe to embrace them. Or maybe apathetic toward them. I'm getting a lot of apathy, actually. The demons you're facing are parts of your past that you feel like broken you to the point where you'll never be able to 'be vibrant' again. I hear the be vibrant part, maybe you feel faded? You will, though. Be vibrant, again. Hell, the Sun came up in the reading, babe you're already on your way. Maybe only in small ways so you haven't noticed yet, but you are. All of the traits you've been told make you unwanted are the ones that will make the right people feel safe around you. I feel like y'all are genuinely warm and kind people and you've been treated like shit for it. Some of you haven't lost those traits but some of you have, that's alright. Lastly, for most of y'all, it seems this situation is over, but you're still sorta living in it. Living as if you're still trapped in it, that you'll never escape, or that they were right. Listen to me, an abuser is NEVER right. Sometimes our bodies just need time to learn that we are in fact out of a shitty situation. Going back to the first bit of the reading, it's time y'all get to learn what safe feels like.

random ass vibes: campy Halloween vibes, cats, ducks, pasta.

If you liked this reading or want to support me, you can leave me a tip with the thing at the bottom of this post or tell me what you thought in the comments

#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pac reading #pick a card #pick a card reading #tarot readings #pick a pile #wtftarot #beyond belief #beyond belief:fact or fiction

116 notes · View notes