#i hate and pity every character at once

[formerly-evil]

I just watched basically the entirety of ofmd in one fucking sitting and i am traumatised and i hate everything

[confused-wanderer]

The villains are utterly confused.

They remember the first robin. They remember how bloodthirsty the little gremlin was, how he appeared out of the darkness with a “HIYA FOLKS” that gave people near heart attacks with PTSD so bad they flinched everytime they walked into a dark corner. They remember his grin, baring few too many teeth with a glint in his eyes whenever the bat wasn’t around to curb him. They remember the death stare, the brooding that made no one doubt this was the Bat’s son. They remember how a punch would land a lot harder than it was supposed to, or the screaming that followed. Oh they remembered him alright.

The second one thank the stars was better. The second robin was giggly. He would hop around town, offering his help to everyone who needed it. Sure he was rough with abusers but hell no one cared about them. Matter of fact, the villains were glad because those assholes deserved no sympathy. They remember his puns, his wonder, his innocence and his spark. They remembered his laughter, his concern - the kind that only comes from one who’s been on the streets. This one was better, and the villains thanked their lucky stars. They remembered him alright.

But now, as the years passed and new characters emerged, the crime city saw the rise of two characters - a sunshine happy nightwing and a ready to kill red hood. And naturally, from their experiences in the past, the villains ended up making an honest mistake that ruined the two vigilantes’ reputation:

The villains assumed the first robin was Red Hood and the other was Nightwing. And BY GOD Gotham has not seen unhinged chaos like this.

SCENE 1

Red Hood *drawing his pistol* : Please, reach for your weapon. I’m itching for an excuse for my intrusive thoughts to become extrusive.

Two-Face: You dare mock me little bird?! Well.. I may not have my weapon.. but I have something I know you’d like..

Red Hood: Oh yeah?What’s that?

Two-Face: TAKE THIS! *slams button and coconuts start falling from the sky, all cracking and spilling as they hit the ground*

Red Hood:

Two-Face:

Red Hood: .. the fuck was that supposed to do?

Two-Face: .. HOW ARE YOU STILL STANDING?! YOU HATE COCONUTS ROBIN!!

Red Hood: The fuck- .. wait did you call me robin?

Two-Face *grins* : Yea.. robin. The first one. Thought I didn’t notice?

Red Hood: The first one? Does this *gestures vaguely to himself and his weapons* seem like something the first robin would do?

Two-Face:

Goon 1: I mean.. yeah

Red Hood: What! The first robin was nice!

Goon 2 *guffawing*: I beg your fucking pardon??

Two-Face: .. you took my coin and attached a magnet beneath it so everytime I flipped it it wouldn’t stop spinning. Do you know how long that took me to figure out?? Do you know how insane it drove me?? Joker had to help me out of pity. OUT. OF. PITY.

Red Hood:

Goon 1: ..Also you did steal some of our bones

Red Hood: hedidfuckingwhatnow-

SCENE 2

Nightwing: Hey there buddy! You look frostyl!

Dr. Freeze: Aha! You are too late to stop me robin!

Nightwing: .. robin?

Dr. Freeze: why yes! Don’t act coy, I know it’s you there. Now that we’ve got that clear.. I was wondering if you remembered all those years ago when you gave me a source for electricity to power a hospital keeping my Nora?

Nightwing:

Dr. Freeze: well you weren’t careful enough and never told me how much I could take from it.. so I used it to power so many of my inventions that came after

Nightwing *remembering when Jason was robin and every damn time he came to visit Wayne Manor his room would always run out power and the countless cold showers in freezing winters he had to take because of it*: .. oh? Well, sorry to break your bubble, but that wasn’t me Elsa.

Dr. Freeze: no? You joke around, make puns and I’m supposed to believe it’s NOT you?. The first one brooded like there was no tomorrow. He pissed me off so bad once I overheard him saying his favourite ice cream flavour and I made sure it wouldn’t be available in Gotham for YEARS. You’re not as bad as the first one. I’d remember if you were him.

Nightwing:

Nightwing *firing up his escrima sticks to maximum voltage*: Oh let me jog your memory then :)

[icanlife]

Very tired of people who continue to argue that Bill destroying Euclydia was completely on purpose and he didn’t care about anyone at all because he’s just trying to garner sympathy in The Book of Bill, despite all the supporting evidence outside of Bill’s words that allude to how deeply traumatic it was, (so many, many things about) how he loved and misses his parents, how much of a sore spot the topic is for him, how much he wants to return home but can’t, etc. in addition to how perfectly Alex and co. crafted a parallel narrative between Bill and Ford, including how they hurt the people they love out of carelessness and blind pursuit of their dreams, justifying to themselves that the people they hurt just couldn’t understand

Yes, Bill is an unreliable narrator, and that includes all the very obvious posturing that he did it all on purpose and it was actually a very good thing, that everyone loved him, that he’s NOT incarcerated or anything and that he’s still a really all-powerful being, etc etc etc. To fully believe that EVERY vulnerability he reveals is an evil manipulation tactic, and not actual character writing, you have to interpret his very prevalent denial of weakness, which continues into the conclusion of the book where he already knows he’s lost the reader and is still denying any emotional needs or trauma, as itself a lie.

There’s a reason why the Pines family cracked open this book and laughed at Bill, calling him a fractured, pathetic mess.

The Book of Bill has a plot, a great plot, and great character writing. It’s a crazy companion to Journal 3, Ford’s story. Parallel stories, but where one ends with someone healing from their trauma, coming to terms with one’s mistakes and accepting the need for human love and relationships, the other ends with one stuck forever in their layers and layers of denial, never acknowledging their own trauma, never acknowledging their need for human companionship, grasping in desperate need at their continued facade of hating to love and loving to hurt.

Bill isn’t an always-in-control sly master of the mind, he’s a delusional and desperate man, fractured by his own trauma, who will continue to hurt others to prove that he’s in control. I’m tired of the false narrative that abusers can’t have trauma, aren’t people, giving them this otherworldly status above all humanity. Aside from not being narratively or societally productive, it undermines the ending and message of the book. Acknowledging Bill’s brokenness gives his victims POWER over him. The fact that Bill needs Ford, but Ford doesn’t need Bill is powerful. Them laughing at his desperation is powerful. Looking at someone who once seemed untouchable to you and realizing they’re just a suffering meat sack like any other human being is powerful.

The ending of The Book of Bill is the demystification of Bill. The book is a real look into his mind, telling a story that’s actually very tragic. It’s a very real story, a cautionary tale. You’re not being manipulated or tricked if you feel bad, it’s a very intentional writing decision that this ending elicits that dark pity, as he desperately fades away (arts and crafts materials confiscated) saying that he’s FINE.

So yeah, The Book of Bill and the website are a masterwork of the character, I love them, they’re incredible, and I don’t want to see such a tight character story discredited as “you can’t believe ANY of it!”

[crystallinestars]

If They Were Your Pet Cat (Part 2)

Headcanons for what Aventurine, Argenti, and Jing Yuan would be like as your pet cat.

This is a part 2 because I have a part 1 with Genshin characters here.

Part 3 (Gepard, Ratio, Dan Heng, Sampo)

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

Aventurine:

🦚 Is a domestic shorthair.

🦚 You picked him up as a stray off the streets. Aventurine looked so pitiful in his dirty and starved state, that you didn’t have the heart to leave him like that, so you brought him home. Initially, he appeared nervous and quiet during the first few weeks. Once he became accustomed to living with you, you discovered that the little, scrawny feline has a big personality.

🦚 Aventurine loves to be pampered. He always purrs whenever you brush or pet him, give him belly rubs, or chin skritches. He simply adores your attention. When you coo that he’s such a pretty kitty? Aventurine looks as smug as a cat can possibly look and follows you around the house while affectionately rubbing against your legs.

🦚 He’s very loyal to you. Anyone that comes to your house and tries to coax him to come play or get pats, is promptly ignored by the feline. The ability to cuddle and pet him are luxuries he reserves only for you.

🦚 You’d think starving out on the streets would have made Aventurine eager to eat almost anything, but no. The little rascal only eats the most expensive cat food brands and turns his nose up at anything else. Either that, or he will steal your food off your plate when you’re not looking. He’s a spoiled cat.

🦚 Aventurine likes to sleep next to you. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing—he will saunter up and lay down somewhere close to take a nap. It’s also a given that he sleeps cuddled up beside you in bed during bedtime. He simply likes feeling your presence since it makes him feel safe.

🦚 As such, Aventurine hates when you leave him home alone for extended periods. He’s surprisingly clingy and gets lonely easily. If you’re gone for most of the day, he’ll be very upset by the time you get home and might tear up a pillow or the curtains out of spite. If this this pattern continues for a long while, one day you’ll notice that your keys are gone. Aventurine is a smart cat and quickly figures out that when you leave the house, you always bring your keys with you. To make you stay, he’ll hide them in a spot that only he can reach with ease. Good luck getting your keys back…

🦚 That said, getting another cat or pet won’t cure his loneliness. If anything, Aventurine will become possessive and jealous because he hates having to share your attention with another cat. He’s a bit territorial of you. Similarly, he dislikes you coming home smelling like another animal, so expect him to rub against you to overwrite the scent of that other animal.

🦚 Most of all, Aventurine hates it when you get mad at him. He always looks guilty whenever you scold or yell at him, and immediately flops over onto his back to expose his furry belly to you. It’s his attempt to placate you and ask for your forgiveness. He anxiously follows you around the house and rubs his body against your legs until he’s sure you’re not mad at him anymore.

Argenti:

🌹 An Ocicat breed.

🌹 Argenti is the most photogenic cat you’ve ever encountered. He always looks graceful and dignified no matter what he’s doing or what angle you take photos of him from. Every picture comes out looking lovely. Anyone who sees your cat always says that he looks beautiful.

🌹 To keep such a gorgeous appearance, Argenti often grooms himself. He does a very good job of it, too, which is why you barely have to groom him yourself. The most you have to do is give him the occasional bath, brush out shedding fur during shedding season, and clip his claws.

🌹 As gorgeous as he is for a house cat, Argenti is a free spirit who doesn’t like to be cooped up at home for long periods of time. Whenever he wants to go out, he’ll paw at the door or windows to signal for you to open them. You were nervous about letting him out at first but soon learned that his desire for the great outdoors was unstoppable. He would venture outside one way or another, much to your befuddlement. He enjoys exploring the neighborhood but always makes sure to come home before dark. As much as he loves adventuring, he loves being in your loving arms more.

🌹 Argenti has the temperament of an angel. You could do whatever you wanted to him, and he would gracefully take it without complaining or struggling. It makes doing things like taking him to the vet, bathing, and grooming extremely easy. You could even make him wear different outfits, and he won’t mind at all. He might even like wearing some of them.

🌹 Is very friendly. Whenever you have guests over, Argenti greets them at the door and purrs while rubbing against their legs. He also readily engages in play and comes if they call him. He does this with everyone who comes through your door, so he’s pretty well-liked among your social circle. However, he doesn’t sit on your guests’ laps or cuddle with them since he’s too active to be a lap cat. Such privileges are available only to you.

🌹 His overly friendly and affectionate personality extends to more than just people. He can purr for other animals he finds during his little excursions outdoors, or even inanimate objects. You once caught him rubbing up against one of your potted plants…

🌹 If you’re scared of insects, then Argenti is the cat for you. Whenever he hears you shriek because you saw a bug, he runs over to your side and promptly fends off the heinous critter. He easily catches and kills any insects so that you, his owner, don’t have to be scared anymore. You can sic him on anything, and he’ll get rid of it for you.

🌹 Argenti is sensitive to your emotional state. Whenever you’re upset, Argenti brings a toy over to you to try and get you to play with him and take your mind off whatever is bothering you. If that doesn’t cheer you up, then he lays down on your chest and licks at your face with his rough tongue. It’s his way of soothing you. He’ll purr on your chest until you feel better.

Jing Yuan:

🦁 A Maine Coon.

🦁 Is a big and lazy cat. Jing Yuan will chase a toy around the house if you play with him, but he generally prefers to snooze by a window while catching some rays of warm sun. He can more often than not be found napping in some cozy and warm corner of the house. When you’re not home, he’ll also sleep in your bed under the blankets.

🦁 Jing Yuan has a calm temperament. He’s very well-behaved during grooming and handles bathing, drying, and brushing like a champ. He’s chill as a cucumber and doesn’t put up a fight while you do your thing in maintaining his long coat. In fact, he’s so laidback, that you could squeeze and rub him all over and he won’t lash out at you, instead tolerating everything with what you can only describe as a smile.

🦁 As accepting as he is of all your affections, he has boundaries. Jing Yuan is generally not fond of being squeezed and terrorized, especially by people who invade his personal space (like rambunctious children or people who bury their faces in his fur). If one such person is in your home, Jing Yuan will vanish without a trace as soon as he hears their footsteps. He only tolerates such treatment from you because you’re his beloved owner.

🦁 Jing Yuan likes being petted and praised but prefers it if these affections come from you. He especially enjoys being brushed by you, and purrs when you comb through his fur. He can even fall asleep on our lap during brushing since the process relaxes him so much.

🦁 He’s a very intelligent cat. Sometimes you talk to him as if you were talking to a friend or family member, and Jing Yuan would meow back in response at appropriate times during the conversation, as if he were replying to your comments. He also has this intelligent look in his golden eyes, as if he understands everything you’re saying. It can be a bit uncanny at times.

🦁 On top of his ability to respond appropriately to your speech, Jing Yuan also easily senses whenever you’re upset. If you feel down, he will stick to your side or lay on your chest and purr until you feel better. If you cry, he’ll lick your tears away. He remains by your side until you’re all better, and won’t leave you alone for anything.

🦁 Is very curious about everything that you do. When you cook, Jing Yuan sits somewhere in the kitchen and watches you busy yourself with whipping up a meal for yourself. He likes to sniff the ingredients you’re working with, either to identify them or discover a food he hasn’t encountered before. Rest assured that he won’t eat anything without you explicitly offering it to him. However, if you have something yummy like fish or chicken cooking, he expects you to share some of it with him once it comes time to eat. He wants to eat delicious things too, not only cat food.

🦁 Frequently sees you off when you leave the house. Likewise, he patiently waits for you at the door when it’s time for you to come home. He’s a bit like a dog in that way.

[flowerisevil]

For I am yours.

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen princess original character.

A/N: this was one of the request I received but I accidentally deleted i along with my previous works:( anyways I use an OC for this one sorry, I hope you'll like it.

Disclaimer: mention of past attempted SA, inform me if i miss anything also possible grammatical and typographical errors ahead. English is not my first language

Summary: he was sworn to her, he is hers in any way she requires him.

~°~°~

Elaerys Targaryen, the epitome of grace and beauty in the Seven Kingdoms, many have said she had surpassed the qualification of the beauty of Targaryen woman, they said she was favored by the Sevens for having a such gorgeous features. And Elaerys was much aware of the attention and beauty she acquired, and her face is the exact reason why she have different guards every moon.

Her father, the King had to change her sworn protector every moon because of two reason, they had attempted to took advantage of her, or fell for her beauty. All of them broke their oath to the princess leading them to be exiled from the position and in King's Landing.

"It is none of your fault, Elaerys" her older sister comforted her, as she heard the news that her new sworn protector was caught glimpsing at her bathro door.

"Nyra, t-this is the exact reason why his grace would not allow me to go outside these walls, I want to go out, I want to visit the cities and people!" Elaerys complained, she envy her older sister Rhaenyra when their father allowed her to have her marital tour, Rhaenrya was abled to travel while her stayed in the Keep.

"next moon perhaps father will less strict to you after your name day" Rhaenyra cheered for her as she finished braiding Elaerys white hair.

"you look exactly like mother" her sister added smiling at the sight of her younger sister.

Elaerys bittersweet smile, she loved and hated it the same time, she loved being beautiful no doubt but its the very reason why she's also caged in here.

"Do you think If I get married I will be much more free?" Elaerys asked, her hand scratch the blade of her shoulders anxiously.

Rhaenyra sighed. "It depends but mostly no, when you became a wife you have duties to attend to Elaerys" Rhaenyra pitied her, she knows the exact feeling of being prisoned here in the castle.

Rhaenyra only hugged her to show comfort, she knows when the time has come the King will learn to let her fly on her own wings, after all she is a dragon nonetheless she is made of fire and blood too.

**

Her name day came, and the right time for marriage, the King prepared a grand celebration for her second born daughter, a ball and feast.

Elaerys sat on her seat beside her was her sister Rhaenyra almost drunk from all of the wine she drank tonight. The princess looked around setting her eyes on a familiar deep blue eyes, Ser Harwin Strong.

"You missed him don't you?" Rhaenyra whispered beside her, teasing her sister to its past lover.

Elaerys shrugged her, her sister wasn't wrong but she had decided to stay away from him. He was her almost, if only Ser Harwin is not bounded by too much honor, that he chose his duty than asking for her hand in marriage, but she could not blame him for not risking his position.

"Why don't you tell our father that you want him to marry? I am quite sure he will trust Ser Harwin on your protection, that man can dead someone who will dare to lay a finger on you" Rhaenyra jested as she loudly laughed.

It's not like she did not thought of that but other than his bounded to his duty, Elaerys felt Harwin did not want to do anything with her anymore, she would not want to tie him in a loveless marriage with her forever.

Her eyes searched for him again once again, she looked for him in the dancing crowd, maybe his out there dancing with some other highborn ladies.

"Done looking for that brawny man?" Her eyes promptly looked up to see their cousin Laenor, just like her sister he also knew the past business she and Ser Harwin once had.

Laenor sat on the other empty side chair beside her. "Happy name day cousin, welcome to the right age of marriage" Laenor and Rhaenyra both laughed, looks like their three years in marriage are already taking big impact on each other.

She both sign them to stop when they saw the King approaching beside him was his Hand and another red headed man.

The three youngster Targaryens stood up, bowing to the King before Viserys spoke. "My daughter happy name day, here may I present to you your new sworn protector"

A man stepped forward, wearing a green and silver tunic, his hair looks like an ginger auburn hair close up, pale skin, blue eyed and freckled man reveals himself.

"Ser Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown" the King introduced.

Elaerys eyes darted to Otto, this is his son?

"Hightower? I did not assume Ser Otto has a knight i their family" Rhaenyra commented.

Otto simply smiled, sarcasm filled his face. "Gwayne is Alicent's older brother, my heir to Oldtown"

Laenor spoke first of the three of them. "An honor to meet you Ser Gwayne, I do hope you enjoy your stay here in King's Landing and you will keep an eye at my cousin, the princess she can be very hard to handle sometimes"

It made the group laughed, Gwayne smiled while nodding in acknowledgment, his gaze moved to the princess, Gwayne noticed the discreet look she gave him. He bow in respect but Elaerys only nod and offer him a small smile.

"Thank you your grace, I shall observe Ser Gwayne's skills" Elaerys uttered, it earned a laugh from her father.

As the celebration continued Gwayne stay near her, she thought he would start his duty by tomorrow but the knight stayed close to where she was.

Gwayne was relief and bizarre for the princess, commonly highborn ladies would love this kind of events but instead she sat there and watch the crowd, most specifically he noticed that she's eyeing someone in the crowd.

Gwayne examined her, all of the stories about her graceful beauty, he thought people was just exaggerating again about someone from the Targaryen dynasty but no, her white silver hair neatly dropped down, her lilac eyes, and flawless skin, her entire aspect screams elegance and royalty, she was indeed a princess.

Elaerys was feeling spiritless around this crowd, she wish to have a breath of the air outside, she stood from her seat and walked away from the banquet, she was thankful Laenor and Rhaenyra both left her for a moment so no one would stop her from leaving.

She knew her new sworn protector was following her, it was his duty what else did she expect?

She stopped infront of the empty balcony, she turned around seeing her knight near the open dood to guard it. Silence filled the balcony, Elaerys was quite familiar with that aspect but her knight on the other side seems bothered it.

"Don't you relish the grand celebration inside, princess?" Gwayne spoke, he wasn't use to a such silence.

"I seem to grow tired of it Ser"

"Then why don't you rest on your chamber?"

Elaerys frowned, turning her head to look at her knight, his voice was filled with sarcasm?

"Pardon?"

Gwayne seem to take notice about the change of expression of the princess, "I mean no offense, princess"

After that silence filled them again, until excuse herself to rest no one talked again.

Months had passed Gwayne surprisingly was able to keep his oath and duty, but he did admit it to himself that somehow he catched an attraction to the princess, with her kind and pleasing demeanor he tried his best but it was too late.

They had interacted and shared a lot of unexpected proximity many times, just like right now. Both of them under of one of the trees in Kingswood. Elaerys sneaked outside the King's Landing after hearing the news that the is planning to match him with Tyland Lannister, Gwayne spotted her sneak outside the castle and when he confronted her, the princess plead him and there they are.

"That man age is near his deathbed" Elaerys muttered, a bottle of ale on her right hand, she felt like her head was spinning.

"That is a very rude thing to say princess" Gwayne looked at him and continued "but I very much agree so"

Gwayne watched her reaction, when Elaerys laughed he did the same, relieved that he managed to let out a pretty laugh from her mouth. A few moments later the two shared a deep conversation.

"Ser Gwayne did you ever had a relationship with someone you shouldn't had?"

Gwayne rested his head on the pillar of the tree. "I never had a serious relationship my princess"

"you mean you only dealt with whores in brothels?"

"not only in brothels my princess" Gwayne fixed his armor before speaking again. "But those were before I was appointed as a knight, as I enter knighthood I have left all of those behind"

Elaerys smiled as she nodded. "I do not criticize your Ser for acting like a normal human"

"I do not think you're the type of judging someone without fully knowing them"

A smiles formed on the drunk face of the princess, she drank another sip from her ale, Gwayne did not want to stop her, he knows she had a rough day and he would not neglect her for having freedom for once.

"If you do not mind princess, have you fell for someone you should not have?"

She did. And looks like she was about to again.

Gwayne saw the glint in her eyes, he nodded. "i shall take that as a yes. If I may, who is this lucky Lord then?"

Gwayne can feel his heart beating fast, he was hoping for the answer that he wants. That his name would be the words that would trail off from her mouth.

"Ser Harwin Strong, he was my first lover.."

Gwayne let out a dramatic gasp. "You have a very surprising taste, princess"

Who knows that the man of honor, the one they call the hard Breakbones and the Lord Commander of City Watch fell for the princess beauty?

But who wouldn't? That's the very reason why the King appointed him to this position. His Grace had expected him to not have any romantic attachment to the princess.

Elaerys talked about Harwin for hours and it was making Gwayne's ear fuzz, the constant utter of the name Harwin from the princess pain his ears, maybe letting the princess finish those three bottles of ale was a bad idea, she was intoxicated.

"Ser Gwayne"

Her words caught his attention, finally a good name came out from her pretty lips. As he turned his face to her, he was stunned by their proximity, he hadn't realize that Elaerys already closed the gap between them.

"You shall have your very own oath to me" The princess declared. "I want you to make your own vow and swear it to me" He thought maybe its just one of the princess nonsense game driven by the alcohol but somehow in him felt to take it seriously.

His eyes pierced into her, he suddenly lost all his ability to look away, she was more than beautiful, its not just her hair and eyes, but what her face express and trying to tell that makes her beautiful. As she looked up to him their gaze met, both glued on each other.

"I Gwayne Hightower of Oldtown vow to you my Princess Elaerys Targaryen, that I will do my very best and offer my very last breath serving and protecting you, I shall serve no one but you, and you shall have me for anything you require, for I am yours"

It almost sounded like a marriage vow.

Elaerys beamed at him her hand reaching to cup his cheeks "You are a very beautiful man Ser Gwayne" were the last think she muttered before she drift off to sleep.

Is she always like this? Is this the reason why her past knights all head over heels to her? If yes then he himself is no different from those knights.

"No wonder those men was enchanted by this lovely princess" he exhales, guiding the princess to lay comfortably on the grounds, he cannot risk riding his horse with a wasted princess with him.

He took of his white cloak and placed it on the ground to serve as a sheet of the princess, after placing her to her handmaid bed he leaned and pressed his back on the tree.

He cannot end up like those knights, exiled from their position and in King's Landing. The King trusted him with his daughter and Seven hells the princess is younger than her sister Alicent.

"I am not even sure if she feels the same way" he chuckles.

***

After that night, Elaerys felt a wall that her knight build, he became distant and cold. And she knew the very exact reason why.

She hated that she yearned for him after that night, she hated that she have to pretend everyday that his distance from her did not bother her, she hated that he placed a barrier between them. A lot change after that night, she sometimes caught herself looking at him for too long, glimpsing at his lips, looking or searching for him when she would lose the sight of him.

"I want to go to Rhaenyra" Elaerys spoke while walking through the halls.

"As you wish princess, I shall accompa-"

"I would like to go alone, for the meantime you can have an hour off Ser Gwayne, you have nothing to worry I'll stay inside her chambers" Elaerys explained

He wanted to protest, to not let her take away the only opportunity he have to be close to her, the only chance he can see glance at her for as much as he can, but reading her eyes he sense that he should let her after all he is serving her and he should do whatever she commander him to do.

Elaerys started walking away from him, he can hear the fast click of her shoes showing her urgency.

Elaerys did not bother to knock on her sister's door as she opened it, she walked to Rhaenyra's bed and hugged her.

"What's the problem?" Rhaenyra spoke but the princess keep her head on her older sister's shoulder.

"Rhaenyra, what if I wish to marry someone?" Elaerys lifted her head, facing her sister's confused face.

"and? You make it sound that the man you want to marry is someone who you shouldn't" Rhaenyra replied.

Elaerys did not manage to answer, Rhaenyra had hit the right words. Rhaenyra sat straight concern filled her face.

"It's Ser Gwayne isn't it?"

Elaerys nodded her head dropping ashamed of what she put herself into.

Rhaenyra chuckles as she raised her sister's face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of Elaerys, Ser Gwayne is an honorable knight"

"exactly Rhaenyra he is a knight, my sworn protector, he took an oath, it is treason if we engage into any romantic relations"

"Elaerys sometimes you have to take a risk and know its outcome than not doing anything"

Rhaenyra talked to her like how an older sister would, she gave her advices and guidance of what she should do.

"The decision is on you sister, and whatever it is I will support you" was Rhaenyra's last words.

Is the decision truly on hers?

***

She have thought of her sister words, after all Elaerys is not sure if Gwayne even felt the same.

While walking in Godswood and Gwayne guarding her as usual, she was admiring the fall of leaves from the branches when someone called her from behind.

He knew exactly those deep gentle voice, she turned around and faced the man infront of her.

"Ser Harwin"

Harwin Strong bow to her, his large hand reaching for her as he pressed his lips on her knuckles. Gwayne's face on the other hand grimaced at the sigh, he was not liking the sigh he was having.

"I pass by outside and I saw you and thought I should pay you a visit" Harwin replied.

Elaerys smiled bitterly "How ironic that you only thought of that now" it came out as a whisper but Harwin clearly heard it.

"I will be away for a very long time darling" he tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear, before he softly cupped her cheeks.

Elaerys expected that she would melt as soon as he does that but she felt nothing instead her eyes looked for Gwayne, as soon as they locked their eyes Gwayne looked away like he saw nothing.

"I do not see any reason for you to inform me Ser Harwin, I have thought you do not want anything to do with-" she stopped her words when Harwin leaned his forehead to hers.

"my Elaerys, forgive me for what I have done, once I come back I promise I will ask for your hand in marriage and I will fight for it no matter-"

Harwin was pushed away from her, she looked at Gwayne who had separated the both of them.

"I expect you are well known on the ethics and policies of touching the princess Ser Harwin, it is treason" Gwayne informed, he stepped forward placing her behind him.

"I meant no harm to the princess, apologies for my insolence"

Gwayne wanted to curse him, he can resist him touching her hands but leaning his forehead to hers? Acting like their a married couple? Fuck that.

Elaerys tried to defend Harwin but Gwayne keep on talking about the boundary Harwin crossed.

"Ser Gwayne, do not worry he meant no harm"

Elaerys looked at Gwayne when he faced her, she can almost read his entire face, it was mixed of emotion, hurt, anxious, possessiveness and jealousy? He was looking intently at her, like he wants to say something.

Gwayne felt his heart sank everytime Elaerys would defend this man, he looked at her with defeat and resignation.

"Ser Harwin you are dismissed" Elaerys command.

"But Elaerys-"

"May the Sevens bless you for your long journey"

Was what Elaerys only answer before she left the Godswood, Harwin gaze dropped on Elaerys fingers that swiftly pulled her knight's hand, dragging him inside the castle.

Gwayne was too clouded too realize that Elaerys was holding his hands, he tried to pull away only for the princess to tighten her grip. Soon they stopped in an empty hallway, Elaerys dropped her grasp to him.

"Ser Gwayne, what is it up with you? You don't to be yourself lately?"

"Princess you have nothing to worry about"

"What was that earlier? You dare to threaten Ser Harwin Strong?"

"He touched you princess, he was too close to you it was improper" Gwayne stood straight, defending his argument.

"Are you jealous of him?" Elaerys blurted out, it was an embarrassing question to ask.

Elaerys can see him frown, she looked away after a few minutes of no answer. "I am sorry Ser Gwayne for that I did not mean to-"

"It was more than jealousy that I felt earlier princess"

Elaerys looked at him, his head was facing down, completely avoiding her eyes.

"I had become one of the knight that broke their oath to you" he added "so when I saw you with Ser Harwin earlier with his forehead resting to yours I was...furious, I wanted to break his face and make sure he would not be able to do that to you again." her sworn protector confessed.

Gwayne sighs before he let out a plain chuckle "How can I ever resist someone like you? I cannot blame those men even Ser Harwin for falling to a such beauty" he added, his words delivered compliments but its voice was filled with hurt.

Gwayne bowed before he excused himself, Elaerys was left there frozen, not a single word even left her lips, she was too stunned to his confession.

Gwayne was no where to be seen the rest of the day after their encounter, Elaerys searched for him, she even asked the servants and other kingsguard but they all said that they did not saw him.

Elaerys has to express herself to him too, he has to know what she felt for him.

Elaerys gave up and was taking rest on her chamber when there was a knock on her doors, she let them in and it revealed Rhaenyra.

"Father....he summons you in the throne room" Rhaenyra informed a comforting smile carved on her lips.

"For what?" She asked but Rhaenyra only shrugged, with a complaining groan, Elaerys stood up before walking with her sister through their way inside the throne room.

As the door opened, the two princess walked infront of the king as they bowed.

"Ah my daughter Elaerys I would like you to meet Lord Cregan Stark, from the North son and heir of Lord Stark" Viserys introduced, the man Cregan walked up to her and bow.

"An honor to meet you princess" he politely greeted.

He looked like a chivalrous man, well men from the North tends to be more honorable than men from here.

"Lord Cregan is here to begin his courtship to you" Elaerys eyes widened at her father's last words.

"Since you have not found someone you wish to marry than I already find one for yours, Lord Cregan is your betrothed from now on" the King commanded.

The princess fisted her hands, "I do not wish to marry him your grace"

"you will not disobey your king, Elaerys"

Elaerys stepped back away from Cregan and face the King.

"Forgive me your grace but I do not plan marrying Lord Cregan and be sent to the North after?"

Viserys looked at Rhaenyra signing her to stop and convince her sister but Rhaenyra looked away like she saw nothing.

"Elaerys, Ser Cregan will protect you"

"By how? Isolating me in a cold place? Father I am a dragon why would you put a fire in a place like North?"

Viserys stood up, even his Hand try his best to calm him down Viserys refused. Elaerys breathed out composing the right words to deliver her message.

"Father...I have someone in my mind that I wish to marry, forgive me" Elaerys said before walking out of the room, she felt suffocated.

Viserys on the other hand was left with frustration, he have thought he would not have a hard time finding a match for his daughter.

"The princess is probably exhausted your grace, her young mind is new to the reality of betrothal and marriage" Rhaenyra defense.

"She said she wish to marry someone, do you know who is this man?"

The people inside the room waited for her answer, she can feel cold sweats forming on her forehead, the King's Hand spoke.

"News had spread in the previous months ago your grace said that the princess Elaerys was caught visiting the quarter of the City Watch and she is often caught in the presence of the Lord Commander of City Watch" Otto announced.

"Saying such gossip and stories about my sister is treason my Lord Hand" Rhaenyra pointed out.

Otto face formed in a small sly smile. "I am only informing the King of what people inside the Keep see, some said the Lord Commander was saw leaving the princess chamber in the middle of the night-"

"Are you questioning my daughter's virtue Otto?"

The Hand stopped his sentence, shock and defeat spread on his face. "I mean no offense you grace"

"Rhaenyra I need to know who is this man?" Viserys turned his attention back to his eldest.

When Rhaenyra did not answered he spoke again. "I command you Rhaenyra, is it true that Harwin had defile your sister?"

"Sevens! No Father!"

"Then what is the truth-"

"She intends to marry Ser Gwayne!"

A loud silence occupied them, Viserys mouth half opened, the shock om Otto's face was a pure sight.

"Elaerys came to me one night, she was scared when she confessed to me that she wanted to marry Gwayne, she said she was afraid of how you will react and what you will do to them" Rhaenyra added more, her head remained high directly looking to the King.

"Gwayne Hightower he poisoned your sister's mind, he seduced her!" Viserys turned to Otto, grabbing the collar of his clothes. "Your son dare to disrespect me by breaking his vow is this the reason why he resigned and decided to go back in Oldtown?"

Otto wanted to unalive him right there, "Your grace I know nothing about this"

Rhaenyra frowned, Ser Gwayne resigned to his position?

****

Elaerys was running through the halls looking for any signs of him but she failed, she visited the quarters of Kingsguard but he was no where to be seen. When she lost her hope, she saw her sister Rhaenyra walking fast towards her.

"Elaerys, Ser Gwayne he is on his horse going back to Oldtown, he resigned to his position" she informed.

"How did you know?" Elaerys looked at her sister the smiled cheekily.

"I tell you later, for now go and find Ser Gwayne and bring him back here." Rhaenyra said before turning back against her.

Elaerys wasted no time as she mounted her dragon Silverwing, as she settle on its back they immediately flee on the sky.

Silverwing was a quick dragon, looking down the ground she searched for any sign of him, she see a few men in horseback with their Hightower sigil, she lead Silverwing towards them.

Gwayne was occupied ever since they left in King's Landing, the King was curios and uneasy when he humbly resigned his position, he had to come up with several reasons. The King even mentioned how he did well on his job.

If he only knew.

He did not want to leave King's Landing, he did not want to leave her, but resigning and leaving his position is the only proper way he could ask for her hand.

His head turned when he heard a voice calling him from behind, he stopped his horse as he saw the princess dismounting her dragon.

"Ser Gwayne" she called her out, Gwayne dismounted himself from his horse as soon as she approached him.

"Princess, what made you come here?" He said bowing his head.

Elaerys raised an eyebrow, crossing her arm as she spoke. "Where are you going?"

His head remained face on the ground, a small smile forming on his lips. "Back to Oldtown princess, the King approved my resignation"

"You are sworn to me Gwayne" Elaerys uttered, she pushed back her hair as she continue "You took a personal vow to me, and now you leaving without even informing me?"

"I see the princess wasn't too intoxicated to remember that" he smirked, he stepped closer to her facing her intense gaze. "Tell me princess, do you wish for me to stay?"

This may be greedy or selfish of him, but he wants to hear her admit it, he wants to hear her say that she wish for him to stay, to stay and be close with each other.

"Gwayne do not leave me" Elaerys was able to utter those words earning a small smile from Gwayne.

"I will come back princess, I have to leave my position in order to properly ask for your hand" he explained, as he tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear.

He lay his forehead against hers, while he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles before guiding it to wrap around his neck. For a moment peace surrounded them, feeling the warmth of breathe of each other, their skins touching.

"This is how I always dreamed about you princess, leaning on each other, with your face close to me, hands intertwined" he described, his eyes dropping to her lips. He can feel the princess' pulling him closer, her lips claimed his.

Gwayne can feel his heart melt, his hands moved to cup her cheeks, this is all he could ask for.

Elaerys massage the back of his head as they kiss, her heart won't stop beating fast, when they pulled away both catching breathe. Elaerys was flustered after the kiss, she looked away from him her hand remained to where it is.

"Do not ever leave no matter in what circumstances Gwayne"

Gwayne held her chin, making her face him. "I truly haven't forgot my vow, princess" he chuckles.

Gwayne took her hand, as he kneel infront of her. "I am sworn to you Elaerys Targaryen, I will give my very last breath to no one but you, I shall offer my heart and soul to no one else but you..."

Gwayne looked up to her while he rose from his knee and place a kiss on the back of her hand.

"For I am yours princess."

*~🌼

[cupidkenji]

If you think I'm pretty

Pairing: Homelander x afab!reader CW: fingering, praise, slightly OOC homie, threats of captivity (he says hes gonna keep reader in the penthouse that's it I promise it's not genuine), cursing, sub!reader, porn without plot (I think this is applicable), they're in a relationship before this, reader says 'John' cause moaning homelander is funny as fuck Summary: Being a perfectionist, you're unsatisfied with a recent test score. Homelander has a cure for that. Disclaimer: reader is always thought to be chubby/fat but there are no physical descriptors here, just an FYI WC: 1,955 Genuinely idk I'd like to apologize for this. I fell out of my Criminal Minds hyperfixation like months ago and haven't written since so I'm really rusty. This is 100% a self-insert but reader is gn and not described other than the fact that they're AFAB. Also this was only proof read once so please point out typos if you see them <3

Your mother used to scold you for being too hard on yourself. Her face is virtually the only thing you can picture as your screen burns your eyes a bit. It’s too early for the high brightness of the device, having woken up before the sun could reintroduce your eyes to light. You’d set yourself up to wake slightly after midnight, intending to check the score of a huge test you’d taken months ago and simply go back to sleep in a matter of minutes. A rather stupid plan, in hindsight. You were questioning now if you knew yourself at all. Your phone had nearly been in your hand when you felt the cold burn of anxiety in your lungs. This test was a huge fucking deal. You were a hardcore perfectionist on top of that, trying with countless futile attempts to surrender your idea of the model score. You just needed to pass, not get your professor to memorialize you in marble for your pure genius. You’d gotten up instead of turning on your phone, brushing your teeth and making your bed before pacing the room slightly while you thought. Essentially, you were just allowing the mantra of ‘cope’ to bound back and forth between your ears for a couple minutes. You weren’t sure if you wanted to cope with the disappointment of a lesser score, or you were telling yourself to come down a couple pegs and be happy with getting by. The repetition of the word soothed that icy-hot feeling that had festered from your lungs to your fingertips, and you checked.

You were fine. Not the score you wanted, but you were fine. 

Mentally you writhed against the slump of your shoulders, but the weight of this self-inflicted shortcoming hit harder than you were capable of defending yourself from. The long sigh you let out was all frost as the tension left your airways. How underwhelming. You laid down on the bed you’d made not ten minutes ago, hearing the window slide open a few seconds into your pity party. You normally left it unlocked for him, knowing if anyone else attempted to enter your home, he wasn’t far. He told you himself that he seemed to have tuned into you specifically; swearing he’d be able to hear you on the other side of the city if you needed him.

“It’s way too early for you to already be having a bad day. The sun’s not even up.” He was closer now, fully sealed into your space and approaching you with comfortable footsteps. You never fully got over the irony of seeing America’s greatest hero flying through your window in sweatpants. “What’s wrong?” You always noticed the subtle way he changed how he spoke around you. In every interview or interaction you’d ever witnessed of his, he’d spoken like a character. For a man who hated having his words scripted, he spoke the same as every cookie-cutter movie he’d starred in. He didn’t talk that way with you, something you hoped was subconscious. A demonstration of the safety he felt around you.

You shrugged in response to the question. You acknowledged the trivial nature of your feelings, knowing you probably reeked of sadness to him but attempting to downplay it anyways. “Bad test score.”

He sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, allowing you the space to remain sprawled out. “Doubtful.” He laughed slightly as he said it, shaking his head and smiling. He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowing minorly. “What’d you get?”

“A four.”

“What were you hoping to get?”

Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, knowing he would pick it up but also trying to spare yourself the rush of immaturity hearing yourself speak would bring. “A five.”

He sighed - a sigh full of endearment that his eyes reflected as he looked at you. You told him once that his eyes were the first thing you’d noticed. It was sunny the day you’d met, and they looked practically ethereal. You’d seen such chaos reflected in them even from day one. The masses called him ‘soulless’ often, but you couldn’t understand such an accusation from anyone who had ever seen him. His eyes were practically overflowing with soul, every time you looked at him it was all you saw. They were capable of incredibly dangerous things but they were so entrancing. He was so fucking enticing. 

You broke the eye contact, but he nudged your leg and moved his head to try and follow your eyes. “Hey-” He called for your attention, so you looked back at him. “You know that’s a good score, right?”

You smiled small at him. “No- I know. I’m just…I don’t know- strict with myself.” You found it hard to put into words. You knew you’d done well, but the ability to feel pride felt withheld from you. Like your eyes bore into it but your mind refused to distribute the feeling it brought to something tangible.

“I think you’re just too much of a fucking perfectionist.” His hand was splayed across your upper thigh from where he sat. No matter which part of you he touched, he had a grip that made your head spin. He was so sure of himself, the strength demonstrated from such an unassuming form never lost the novelty that it’d held when you met him. “Can’t let yourself admit when you did good.”

You tried to be dismissive, but it was hard to fake anything with a man like him. “As if you aren’t, John.” His jaw got the slightest bit tighter at the use of his name. Such a miniscule action that easily dodges the eyes of people who aren’t looking. You couldn’t really imagine not looking at him.

“I’m serious.” His face was still relaxed, but the expression in his eyes had shifted. His pupils dilated and his full attention was on you. “You did good.”

The only con of being with somebody with abilities such as his was the lack of secrecy. You used to laugh with your friends about how grateful you were for the discrete nature of arousal when living without certain body parts. That went out the window when you started seeing him. He knew the second anything shifted within you. He had every perversion you’d ever dreamt about practically categorized by the time your two month anniversary had rolled around. One of his favorite pastimes was casually working a turn-on into conversation and just watching you squirm.

You fought the urge to pull away from his hand, feeling your stomach drop slightly at a declaration like that. “Thank you.” You looked away from him again. Something you knew he didn’t really like but choosing to try and save face over anything else. 

“Yeah…I don’t know.” You could see his focus on the topic increasing by the second. His disposition was happy, but he held serious and almost threatening undertones. He tightened his grip on your thigh and you looked at back to him, hesitantly following the silent command to keep your eyes up. “I think you should say it.”

“John-” His assertiveness was starting to get to you, it always did. You sat up on your forearms to be a little more level with him but he moved his hand from your thigh to your stomach and pushed you back down. The thought of having to lay there and explicitly state that you did well on your test felt like a kid having to write in repetition on a chalkboard in detention. 

He was looking down at you, the eye contact making you slightly dizzy. His face was kind, it almost always was when he was around you, but the conversation was derailing. “I just think it’s important that you understand this.” He was so good at making you want what he thought was best.

You inhaled, swallowing your pride and licking your lips. “What do you want me to say?”

That familiar, condescending smile was starting to creep onto his lips. “Just tell the truth.” His eyebrows raised slightly in a silent prompt. “Say you did good.”

His hand was descending from your stomach, making it’s way to the hemline of your underwear. You hadn’t bothered to change out of what you were sleeping in, only now realizing the vulnerability of it. You held your tongue for a moment, breathing out a quiet “I did good.” 

He tore the only fabric between his hand and you off your body as easily as ripping a sheet of paper and leaned in a little more. “Say it again.”

“John-” You said it as barely an exhale as he skimmed his hand over you. You hadn’t even registered just how sensitive or how wet you’d gotten in the few minutes you were talking to him.

“I don’t know why you act so fucking noble. You should be running Ashleys around in circles or giving interns your coffee order. Not any of this testing bullshit that you’re too good for anyway.” His tone elevated to that mocking, cocky tone that swept into the most shame filled crevices of your mind and tugged the most deprived parts into the driver seat. He thumbed at your clit while he spoke, increasing and decreasing the pressure whenever he felt like it and effectively snatching any remaining ability to form coherent thought from your grabbing hands. “You’ve been chosen by a God, honey. You can do anything, I can give you anything.” He got breathier as he spoke, seemingly soaking up the desperation you were excreting and matching it in a tenfold.

You felt two of his fingers enter you effortlessly and you couldn’t stop yourself from gripping his arm. You always felt the power imbalance most in times like these. A feeling like pulling an angel away from heaven just for yourself, combing through it’s wings with your fingers or trying to lap up a fraction of that status in a wildly inappropriate disregard for the natural roles of nature. He was so much more than you, but he just wanted you to feel good. You swore under your breath as he started circles on your clit. He never got hand cramps, never got tired. He would go until you couldn’t anymore.

“That’s it.” He had barely said it, more just exhaled the assurance under his breath. You were close, you’re sure he could feel it. “Gonna move you to my penthouse. Keep you braindead and needy.”

 It shouldn’t have hit you the way it did. Considering who he was, he could easily fulfill that promise with nobody at Vought even thinking twice. It was the way he said it, the way he acts. Always needing control and always right. The most powerful man alive spent his time fantasizing about control over you, and your stomach twisted in disgust at how badly it got you off.

He slowed his movements as your high declined. He was breathing heavy, but your heart was beating like a drum. He had the smallest smile on his face like the sound gave him a sense of satisfaction. You rose to your forearms, this time with no protest from him, and watched him stand up. He held the back of your head with the hand that wasn’t nearly dripping and kissed the top of your head. It was chaste and quick, but the domesticity of it made your throat ache. He uttered something about getting a towel to clean up, stating he’d be right back before exiting the room. 

You rushed the words out before he could leave. “But you didn’t-”

“Next time.” He just waved you off. “I just thought you deserved a little reward.”

[wandascrush]

Runaway Bride

Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst

Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen

You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 

   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 

   “Long time no see, Natty.” 

    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 

   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”

 “I’m so tired of missing you. Some strange part of me thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”

I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.

    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.

   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 

   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.

[euphoriaslux]

we can’t be friends

summary: you hate vincent. vincent hates you. and yet somehow you end up in his bedroom.

word count: 4262( i… am so sorry.)

warnings: fem reader, smut(f oral receiving) vincent being a meanie, drinking and smoking, disrespect of the french justice system (désolé) me making head canons about vincent’s family life, some mischaracterization of sandra (ily sandra huller)

a/n: folks i was locked in when i was writing this, can you tell because it’s autocapitalized? i was Serious! this was supposed to be like a thousand words and ended up being 4k… i apologize i have to spread my illness (being my obsession with swann). i had SO much fun writing this i hope yall enjoy, all the reblogs on my first post make me all warm and fuzzy. drop some requests if you’d like, and im going to make a masterpost of all the fictional characters im obsessed with bc i’m chronically online. i’ve reread this like a million times so if there are any spelling errors i simply do not see. enjoy!!! <3

You cannot fucking believe you’re going to be late to trial.

Well, actually, you can believe it. Somehow, during the two hours of sleep you got last night, you managed to unplug both your alarm clock and your phone charger, leaving you to blissfully sleep through the multiple alarms you had set the night before. It was only when your cat sprawled across your face, her paws tickling your eyelashes as she eagerly awaited her breakfast, that your body decided to wake you up. An hour after you were supposed to.

Your methodically planned out morning routine for the indictment today was quickly replaced by you sprinting around your apartment muttering curse words under your breath and trying not to trip over the copious amounts of documents on your floor. You nearly cried when your tangled hair would not cooperate with you, but somehow managed to make yourself look halfway presentable. You didn’t have the time to be stressed today, especially because of the attention you know this case is going to get.

And because you knew you were going to see him.

After driving like a bat out of hell in the Parisian rain, violating multiple traffic laws, you somehow make it to the courthouse only one minute late. Jogging up the steps, you push the door open and yell out apologies to the bewildered lawyers and judges in the courthouse as you sprint against the browned hardwood floor, your briefcase thumping against your side in tandem with your heartbeat. Your eyes scan the chamber numbers and you breathe a sigh of relief once you find the one that matched the summons notice, pausing to smooth down your pantsuit set and pat the beads of sweat off of your forehead.

You push open the chamber doors as gently as you can, but you quickly realize there is no use as every head in the room turns towards you, gawking at you. Some have a slight frown on their face, looking at you with thinly veiled pity, but most have a clear show of annoyance. With your head down you speedwalk over to your team’s side of the chambers, pulling out a few labeled folders before you place your briefcase next to your seat. You take a deep breath and force yourself to look up, and right across from you is the defendant’s lawyer.

Vincent is wearing a black turtleneck and a matching black blazer, with effortlessly swooped gray hair and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks perfect, too perfect, in a way that pisses you off. He’s already staring at you when you glance at him, his mouth slightly turned upward as he leans over to talk to his client Sandra, maintining eye contact with you as his whispers in her ear.

“Glad you made time to join us Mademoiselle,” the judge says as she shuffles some papers around, using a few fingers to wave over a magistrate to her right, ostensibly for the indictment sheets.

“I am so, so sorry I-” you start before the judge moves her hand to wave you off, finally sparing you a sharp glance.

“Enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed, yes?” she asks, and you almost start to answer before you realize it was rhetorical. There are a few quiet laughs in the courtroom and you fix your eyes on your folder, feeling like a child who was just scolded in class for sneaking a cookie from the lunchroom. You feel Vincent’s eyes on you but you don’t dare to look up. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Sandra was indicted, of course. This case was going to be a media circus because of her literary career, and you knew this was not going to be an open-and-shut case. Part of you hated trials like these - when the media would decide an angle that they found the most titillating and not leave a single person involved alone until they got a headline that matched their narrative. Another part of you, a massive part of you, hated working with Vincent. You could just constantly feel the smugness dripping off of him, and with every snarky comment and reply you could sense the anger just drilling deeper and deeper into you. Each interaction you had with him managed to make you even more and more mad. At least you’d hopefully only see him for another couple of months.

five months later

Like clockwork, you stepped out of your taxi to be bombarded by reporters with an endless sea of microphones and cameras, a cacophony of aggressive voices yelling your way. You keep your head down and try to push through the crowd, noticing Vincent talking to a reporter with Sandra to his side. You hear a few words, noticeably about Sandra’s innocence and the ignorance of the defense, and that word makes you stop in your tracks. Reporters are asking you questions but you look for the first microphone you can find and start to talk, making sure to project your voice.

“Judicial integrity is what’s most important to me. Not a narrative, not a story. I took an oath to protect this country. Some people don’t take that seriously, but I do, and that’s what I am focused on.”

There is a sea of follow-up questions but you weave through the hoard of people to the top steps of the courtroom, making your way inside. You arrived a bit early to trial today because you knew Daniel, Sandra’s son, was testifying today. You couldn’t shake the unease you’d had all week knowing you had to cross-examine him, seeing his grief-stricken face as he heard the prosecution and defense make a myriad of accusations about the one parent he had left.

“Were you talking about me?”

Vincent’s voice makes you jump, and you turn around to see him staring at you from behind the court pew. You must’ve had a look of confusion on your face because he then clarifies:

“Outside, when you were talking to the reporter from Euronews. Are you implying that I don’t have judicial integrity?” he cocks his head at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. You shrug, grabbing the manila folders with notes from your bag and putting them in front of your seat.

“If the shoe fits, I suppose,” you say with a tight smile as you sling your bag from your shoulder to under your chair. Vincent scoffs, lightly brushing his hair out of his face.

“Right, I should have looked to the attorney who walks in late smelling like cheap wine for… integrity,” he emphasizes that last word, each letter feeling incredibly loud in the silent courtroom. You feel the heat rise from the back of your neck, both in embarrassment and fury. You take a step towards him and he doesn’t move, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Do you think you’re any better? You took this case because you are plagued with this superiority complex that you have to subject everyone to.”

“Hm, so being a good lawyer makes you think I have a superiority complex, good to know,” Vincent says, touching his chin in mock curiosity. Jesus Christ, this guy irritates you.

“No actually, I think I figured it out,” you say with a laugh, poking your finger at his chest.

“Is it because you used to fuck Sandra, and this is some weird fucked up sort of foreplay that you’re forcing us to watch? I wonder if there’s a tape in evidence, of Sandra telling her now-dead husband how many times you two had shitty sex.”

Your sentence sits in the air as the smirk falls from Vincent’s face.

“Do not project whatever bullshit you’ve created in your mind onto me,” he says, staring at you with an intensity that makes you start to squirm.

“You don’t know me, Vincent,” you turn to end the conversation but Vincent grabs your arm, turning you back around to look at him.

“But I think I do,” he says, and you are so close that you can make out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket through his cloak is what’s pressing against your thigh.

“I think you put on this show, that you are meek and timid, but it is all an act. Every movement of yours is calculated. Nothing you do has any underpinning of integrity.”

You feel tears well in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, opening your mouth to speak as the chamber doors open and members of the jury begin to walk in.

“Fuck you,” you tear your arm away from his grip and walk back to your seat.

four months later

It’s been two weeks since the trial ended. The chaotic hustle and attention has died and reporters are gone, with no more requests for comment or interviews on morning TV filling up your inbox. You were called to the courthouse to go over some documentation that the court needed to provide a final report on the case, arriving late on a Saturday night. You shudder as you get out of the taxi, the chill of Paris air sparing no part of your body. You wrap your jacket around yourself and sit on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as you prepare to go into that same courtroom. You put your head in your hands and sit in silence for what feels like forever until a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

“Hey.”

You don’t move a muscle when you hear Vincent’s voice, hoping that somehow if you stayed completely still he’d believe you were a figment of his imagination and he’d leave you alone. Instead, he takes a seat next to you, the corduroy fabric of his trousers very gently grazing your skirt.

“If you’ve come to gloat, I’m truly not in the mood,” your say, your voice muffled by your hands over your mouth. Vincent says nothing but you hear him rustling through his pants and then the familiar click of a lighter, and you bring your face up to see Vincent taking a drag of a cigarette. He breathes out wafts of smoke, and after a beat, extends his hand towards you. You glance down at the cigarette and then back at him, and he is still looking forward at the architecture across from you. Plucking the cigarette from between his fingers you inhale deeply, tilting your head up to blow the smoke into the sky. You both sit in the quiet for a few moments as you smoke about half of the cigarette. He doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks, and you chuckle as you take another inhale.

“How do you think I feel?” you look to him and he nods, taking the cigarette from you. You try and ignore the tingly feeling in your stomach when his lips touch the same part of the cigarette that yours did, with no hesitation.

“Did you genuinely believe she was guilty?”

The question throws you off guard.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly, bringing your knees up to rest your hands on top of them.

“I don’t often think anything is too personal in a court of law, but that phone call with Sandra and Samuel felt, invasive?”

“It didn’t seem like you had any qualms when you were questioning about it,” he questions.

“Well of course not. I wanted to win.”

Vincent laughs, a real deep laugh, and you can’t help but crack a small smile at the noise. You realize you hadn’t heard it before, at least not before it preceded an insult hurled your way.

“What do you mean, invasive?”

It’s hard to collect your thoughts on his question, and you are suddenly transported back into that courtroom, listening to that call.

“It was like I felt every molecule of anger, resentment, disappointment. I just felt like I was right there in the middle, taking both of their punches. Like,” you take a beat, trying to formulate your words.

“Like I was their son, with no vision of what was happening but so desperately aware of the anger in the air. And feeling guilty that I caused it, somehow.”

Vincent hums.

“I’m sorry with how often I pried, about you and Sandra,” your voice is quiet, and you pick at the straps of your heels.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. The feelings I have for her have changed.”

This time you hum, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your years of knowing him, you feel bad about possibly making Vincent uncomfortable. You’re not sure why. You sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before you stand up, brushing the stray tufts of cigarette ash that stuck to your skirt.

“Well, I won’t keep you, I have to go turn in evidence of my defeat” you gesture towards the papers in your hands. “And you have to go celebrate, I presume.”

Vincent stands up as well, flicking the cigarette onto the floor and stomping it out with his boot.

“No celebrating for me,” he says with his hands raised. You smile, and he does the same.

“How will you be … coping?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“Not sure, probably at home with a really cheap bottle of wine.”

His lips purse as he puts his hands into his pockets. “I guess I deserve that.”

You rock slightly on your balls and feet, not sure if you should walk away from him or not. You’re just about to step out of his way when he starts talking.

“I have a nice Pinot Grigio I’ve been waiting to open, if you’d, you know, like to … join,” Vincent’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, and you swear you can see a soft pink hue on his cheeks, but perhaps that was the night playing tricks on you.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be,” he cuts you off. “I’ll wait for you out here?”

-

Vincent’s house - not apartment - was somehow exactly and nothing like what you would have imagined. It’s a one-story Victorian-style home with a dark exterior, but the inside is painted a warm yellow with tons of books littering the floors and walls and miscellanous trinkets and birthday cards tucked in between. There’s empty pizza boxes and wine bottles on the kitchen floor, and through his tall back window you can see a mini garden in his backyard, with vines of tomatoes and bushels of leafy greens sprawled amongst the grass. It looks very lived in - you can imagine Vincent waltzing around in the morning, reading his big law books with big glasses of wine, like the one you have in your hand right now.

The two of you are currently halfway deep into a bottle, talking about nothing and everything. The case, bad clients you’ve had before, your favorite pastry shops in Paris, the funny face that one of the Magistrates makes every time the Judge looked at him.

“Thank you for the wine monsieur,” you say with a dip of your head and an exaggerated bow.

Vincent shakes his head before taking a sip of wine, and you notice how the soft pink you thought you had noticed before has turned into a deep red from his forehead to his chest. Vincent being tipsy was such an odd thought to you that you couldn’t control your laughter, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you started to giggle incessantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Vincent giggles alongside you, and you shake your head no.

“The serious, smart lawyer is wine-drunk with the person he probably hates the most. I could not have imagined ever being in this situation,” you manage to collect yourself, putting your hand over your chest as you take the final sip in your glass and wave off Vincent as he motions to pour you another one.

“I don’t hate you,” Vincent mutters as he pours himself another glass of wine.

“You’re pretty good at acting like you do.”

He just nods. Suddenly the air in the room has changed, and it feels constricting. Like all of the arguments and venomous insults you’ve thrown at each other has coagulated in this massive living room

“I actually, um, envy you a lot of the time.”

“Envy me?” you can’t help your incredulous tone after his sentence. “You don’t have to say things to pity me, you know,” you laugh, but Vincent’s face is still serious.

“You are just naturally someone people want to spend time with. Even when you annoy me beyond belief, some part of me is always, drawn to you, I suppose. And I envy that. I don’t really know who I am without doing things for others.

You furrow your brows at his sentence. “What do you mean?” you lean over your chair to be a bit closer to him. He plays with the silver ring on his index finger.

“Sometimes I feel like the people I’ve loved, only want me when I can do something for them, you know? I mean, even my own mother, I remember- ” he stops to take a large sip of wine.

“I was almost done with primary school, and my Dad was gone on some inane business trip. I told her I wanted to go to a birthday party downtown, and that I wouldn’t be able to make dinner that night. She got so mad at me that she threw the bottle of wine she’d nearly finished at my head.” He swirls his wine glass around staring into it.

You put your hand on top of his, and he looks up at you, staring into your eyes before clasping his hand arond yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper. He shrugs, and before you can stop yourself, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a featherlike kiss against his skin. Vincent’s eyes are glassy, and he separates his fingers from yours to place his hand against your face, his thumb gently caressing your jaw.

“Do you have more cigarettes?” you ask, softening into his touch.

“In my bedroom.”

His statement - his ask - reverberates through your head as you both stare at each other, trying to discern what will happen next. Your thoughts are so loud that you’ve afraid that somehow they’ll extend out into the room.

is he saying what i think he is?

And normally, you would say a snarky remark about how he wishes he could get you in his bedroom, and how you’d rather die than see where he sleeps, but the wine has made you slightly woozy and all you can think about is how good he looks with his hair gently sticking to his face and his t-shirt tight around his arms, and what it would feel like to fuck him.

So you say “okay”, and leave your phone on the dining room table.

Vincent opens his bedroom door, moving to let you walk in first before closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak and before you can think your mouth is on his, and he’s shocked for a moment before he kisses you back, your lips melding together. You push your body into his as Vincent wraps his arms around your waist, his hands digging into your skin as he quietly moans into your mouth. Your intertwined bodies make it to the bed and he hovers on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you reach down to touch him over his jeans, feeling him shudder against you. You pull away from him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice is a little hoarser than it was before. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you pull your shirt over your head and tug at the bottom of his and he laughs he does the same, and you admire his shirtless body as he reaches back down to kiss you again, but he’s not as gentle this time. He’s aggressive, dipping his tongue into your mouth and holding your face in his hands.

“So beautiful”, he murmurs, tilting your head so he can suck on your neck and graze his teeth against the bruises spot he left. “So much more beautiful than I imagined”.

Your head falls back on the pillow as you feel his hands reach behind your back and unclip the hooks on your bra, his mouth moving to your breasts and licking your nipples.

“You’ve imagined me?” you pretend to be bashful as your mouth falls into an o-shape, feeling Vincent’s mouth on your chest and his hands on . He moans and you can feel it throughout your whole body as you lean down to shimmy out of your skirt and underwear in one move.

“In every way possible,” he says as he dips a finger down, past your belly button and into your cunt. You’d feel embarrassed at how wet you are already if his hand didn’t feel so good inside of you.

“I’ve thought about what you would taste like, how you would sound when I first fuck you for the first time,” his mouth moves down from your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your abdomen before he’s just above your heat and you sigh, involuntarily jerking your hips up. He puts his free hand around your lower stomach to hold you in place.

“But nothing,” he nips at the spot right in the crease of your hip, licking a long stripe just next to your heat.

“Could’ve come close to how pretty you really are.”

“Christ,” your hands grab fistfuls of Vincent’s sheets as his tongue finally swirls around your clit, pressing just a bit harder as he puts another finger inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach as you and Vincent’s grip on your stomach get firmer as you wriggle under his touch. He groans into your mouth as you start to grind your hips into him, fucking you faster with his fingers as he rolls his hips into the bed.

“Vincent,” you say with a gasp and grip his hair, pulling as you come around his mouth, your head dizzy with the feeling of Vincent’s tongue on you as he stares up at you from between your legs. He pulls his hand out of your cunt and licks his fingers before putting his mouth back on your clit, making you jump at the contact. You hiss as he licks the sensitive area, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tug so hard on Vincent’s hair that you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but if you are, he doesn’t stop you. He interlocks his fingers across your stomach and holds you into place, groaning into your clit.

“Okayokayokay,” you move your hands from his hair to head to pull him up, your breathing labored as you try to get yourself together. He leans over to kiss you, his lips softly molding against yours as you wrap your arms around his back.

Breathless, you move your hand down to touch Vincent but he quickly stops you.

“It’s- um-”

You look down and notice the wet spot on Vincent’s boxers, and your eyebrows raise to the top of your forehead as you come to the realization that he came while he was eating you out.

“Did you-”

Vincent groans, hiding his face in your neck as you giggle, coming down from your high.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you thread your fingers through his now disheveled hair. “It’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” Vincent looks at you with a questioning look but you just smile.

“Plus, we have all night to try again.”

-

You wake up in Vincent’s bedroom, with a few strips of sunlight peeking through Vincent’s closed blinds. You haphazardly reach over to his side of the bed to grab his arm, but find it empty, raising your head from the pillow to see that you’re completely alone. Vincent’s clothes that he had taken off during the night and tossed onto the floor were gone. You waited to see if you could hear Vincent in his kitchen, or in the garden, but you were in complete silence.

To be fair, he didn’t say anything last night to insinuate that he wanted a relationship with you, or even liked you. Maybe this was secretly a win for him - he could beat you in a courtroom, and now he got you in your most vulnerable state to declare that you actually felt something other than hatred for him. And maybe that’s all he wanted. You’re not sure why you expected anything differently.

You throw the blankets off of you and find your clothes neatly folded on his desk, and his courteousness manages to upset you even more. You put your clothes on and try to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you walk out of his bedroom and out towards his kitchen. You scan the room for your phone, which you swear you left on the dining room table, only to finally see it on top of a note on the kitchen counter written in messy cursive.

“Went out for cigarettes and coffee.

Bringing back croissants and a capuc- cappuccino.

Will be back in ten.

Go back to bed.

V”

-

taglist: @ghostlytide

graphic credits: @glasvera

[shiny-jr]

from IGNIHYDE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.

Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore

The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold. 

For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after. 

The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form. 

When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from. 

Player, 

I messed everything up.

I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.

Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is. 

You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place. 

Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.

Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot. 

You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar. 

Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you. 

Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother? 

Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go. 

And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe. 

But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck. 

I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened... 

Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it. 

Just throw this in the fire without a second glance. 

Idia Shroud 

In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together. 

You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction. 

This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it. 

The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable. 

Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs. 

Greetings, Player, 

First, I want to apologize sincerely. 

Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy. 

Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself. 

So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile!  But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending... 

I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically. 

Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy! 

Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper... 

I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both! 

If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will! 

Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more! 

And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond! 

There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please? 

Hoping to see you soon. 

From your friend, 

Ortho Shroud  

[explicit-tae]

Metamorphosis (2/2)

A look into your demonic pregnancy leading up to you giving birth to your and Jungkook's son - and prior to being dragged to Hell. Part 1 | Alternative Universe Masterlist | Halloween Masterlist

Word Count: 8.494

Warning: mentions of blood, blood drinking/cannibalism, character death, animal death, blood drinking, kissing, fingering, mentions of oral sex, pregnant sex,

NINE MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Pregnant?” your mother nods her head slowly. Her eyes move from your face to your stomach. There isn’t a bump, and if there was, it’d be far too small to notice from afar.

“Yeah.” you murmur.

Your mother wasn’t the judgment type - she, after all, didn’t live an ideal life. She dealt with the looks often when you were a child besides her wife (your mother before she passed) at church or other places.

 However, it wasn’t her judgment that you were worried about - it was mainly your own. You wouldn’t tell your mother that you were pregnant by a demon and was now carrying his seed. You hated yourself and your unfortunate life events enough.

“One night stand?” your mother asks you. She now has a worried look on her face. “Unless you have a boyfriend…?”

You’re unsure what to tell her. Jungkook was not just a one-night stand - you see the man every night (unfortunately). But if you did tell her that Jungkook was your boyfriend to avoid feeling even more stupid, then she’d ask to meet him. And that’s not something you’re sure you wanted - you and Jungkook were not a family. He was a demon that forced you into this situation of carrying his demonic seed.

You swallow and your mother doesn’t press the issue any longer.

“You’re keeping it, I assume?”

You didn’t want to. “Yes.”

Your mother knits her brows. “You don’t look excited.” She wants to joke, but the tension is noticeable. “Don’t go through with this if you aren’t ready, Y/N.”

You want to scoff at her ignorance. She didn’t know that you’ve already tried to get rid of the demonic seed - and said seed had killed your doctor right before you. You’re unsure what it’ll do to you if you tried to kill it once more, even if it did need you to survive for now.

“But if you do, you know I’m always here for you.”

Your heart thumps out your chest. 

You don’t want your mother to be a part of your pregnancy journey - not because you didn’t love her or want to share this moment. But because you didn’t want her to get attached to this demonic child. You didn’t want her to be hurt by it, either.

“I know.” you tell her, a sullen look upon your face.

A strained smile, appearing more like a grimace, is what your mother gives you in return. She doesn’t want to pry into your life any more than she needs to. You’re an adult and could make your own decisions. It was her responsibility to be there for you when you needed her to be. 

“Are you hungry? I have some fruit in the fridge that I just cut.”

You nod your head. One thing you’ve noticed was your growing appetite. Pregnancy cravings wouldn’t be like this if you were pregnant with a human fetus. You always felt hungry or thirsty, appetite never truly satiated.

“I’m going to go get dinner started since that’s what you’ve come for.” your mother snickers. She lifts up from the kitchen table and makes her way towards the fridge. She grasps the large bowl of fruit. She grabs you a spoon and makes her way back towards you. 

“Thank you.” you hum, stomach rumbling. “I’m gonna go watch something.” you tell her before making your way out of the kitchen, bowl in hand. 

You do exactly that. You begin to eat the fruit rapidly, humming with satisfaction. If you could look at yourself now, you’d be certain that you looked like a starving pathetic mess. 

“Oh shit.” you hiss.

It’s been about 15 minutes and you just noticed that you ate all of the fruit. The spoon you once had has long been discarded and you ate with your hands, snatching the slippery fruit and shoving it in your mouth.

Licking your lips, your face burns with self pity and embarrassment. More so because you were still hungry, as sad as it sounded.

Your right hand touches the empty bowl and you shriek when the bowl suddenly disappears, but in its place is a plate of raw meat - a large bloody steak. You slam the plate down onto the coffee table with wide eyes.

You lift yourself from the couch and make your way down the hall to the bathroom. You slam the door shut behind you and fall to your knees to vomit right into the toilet. The amount would be alarming if you haven’t already grown accustomed to doing so daily.

“Our son is a part of you now.”

You feel a hand on the top of your back, gently rubbing circles. You would be startled if this wasn’t something Jungkook did often. He would creep into your life whenever you were alone - and sometimes you swore you could hear him in your thoughts even when he wasn’t there.

“You shouldn’t ignore his preferences.”

You spit into the toilet a final time then flush. “Raw meat is not a preference.” you hissed. “It sounds like he wants to kill me.”

Jungkook watches as you rinse your mouth out, leaning against the bathroom wall. “You aren’t going to die.”

“I’m human. Unlike you. Or this thing you put inside of me.”

Jungkook blinks, lips in a thin line. “Our son.” 

You glance into the mirror to look at Jungkook. His crimson eyes are staring right at you and he isn’t amused. 

“You feel sick because our son feels everything you do.” Jungkook takes a step closer. 

“Hatred and self-pity?” you snort.

Once again, Jungkook isn’t amused. 

“Nothing is going to kill you. Not raw meat, not our son or me.” Jungkook speaks. “You’re basically immortal until you give birth. Each day our son grows stronger and you would temporarily gain his powers.”

You feel like vomiting again at the thought of being able to conjure raw meat - all because the child prefers it.

“Turn around, my beautiful human.”

You exhale a breath and turn towards Jungkook. At your actions, he grins down at you. A hand places itself onto your cheek. 

“Having powers is new to you. Humans are so weak.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“I don’t want any powers.” you tell Jungkook. Maybe if you were a child wishing to fly or be invincible - but this was not that. You could feel yourself changing everyday and it frightened you. This was real - you were pregnant with a demon fetus by a demon who refused to leave you alone. 

“You’ll have to adjust. For our son.” Jungkook traces your lips with his thumb and you hate the way your heart jolts at his actions. “How do you feel right now?”

You swallow.

Your stomach no longer churned and you didn’t have the urge to vomit. The fear, nausea and anxiety were slowly drifting away as if the weight of the world were no longer on your shoulders, even if you knew deep down that your situation was completely against your control. 

“Hm.” Jungkook hums, tilting his head. He can read your thoughts, after all. “Like I know. You feel better because I’m here. Our son feels at ease when I’m around.”

Jungkook drops his hand from your face to your stomach. There was nothing for him to touch, no bump. Yet and still, he does. 

You feel warm, a strange sensation flowing through you.

You inhale.

“Our son can never fully feel at ease with just you because he understands how you feel about him. The disgust, the anger. Hatred.” Jungkook is whispering now, as if trying to speak to just you and not the unborn fetus. “You’ll adjust, my beautiful human. All you have to do is give in. Stop thinking about just you and think about our son.”

You want to roll your eyes. Jungkook was guilt tripping you - and you were falling for it. He was right. Whenever Jungkook was with you, you never felt anything but comfort. You weren’t constantly in your own thoughts thinking about your situation. The fetus was demonic and therefore is more advanced than a human child at its stage. 

‘He.’ Jungkook pipes in, entering your mind. His crimson eyes burning into your own. ‘Refer to our son as he, not an it.’

You sigh.

“You’re hungry.” Jungkook speaks and you’re unsure if he’s talking to you or the fetus. His hand gently rubs your stomach.  “You can’t just eat what you usually do. Remember your body is changing. You’re feeding a demon.”

You grimace. The thought of eating raw meat disgusts you. Not only because it’s raw and bloody - but because the aroma entices you. It makes your mouth water and you want nothing more than to sink your teeth inside of it.

“You eat raw meat?” you question meekly. 

Jungkook nods. “I eat everything.”

That statement alone frightens you. 

“Don’t give me that look.” Jungkook chuckles low at your expression. “I can feed off of anything. You feed me all the time.”

You’re hot at his response and you want to push him away.

Jungkook only comes closer to you. “As a demon, I do not need to physically eat to be fed. You feed me with sex, yes. But you also feed me with your aura, emotions. I can go out and do the same with other humans. They won’t satiate me because they aren’t you, so I don’t.” Jungkook turns you around once more so you can face the mirror. He embraces you from behind, grasping your hand and placing it upon your stomach, his large hand on top yours. 

“I cannot tell you what I do as a demon, because then you’ll be frightened of me.” And Jungkook has already gotten you used to his presence and he refuses to go back to you being disgusted with him (prior and after sex, never during). “But I feed off of human’s fear and negativity.”

There’s a sharp pain in your rib and you hiss slightly. Another thing you’d have to get used to. The fetus had strength like no other. The amount of times you woke in the middle of the night to it - he - kicking you was insane. 

“If I feel like sinking my teeth into something. I can feed off of human food, yet it’ll never satiate me enough. Just like you, eating human food will never satisfy our son.” Jungkook rubs your stomach, his palm warm. The sharp pains stop and you ponder if it’s something Jungkook was doing. 

“You’re going to be disgusted because you are not yet a demon.” The word yet doesn’t fly past your ears, but you allow Jungkook to continue. “But as our son grows, so will your appetite. You’ll crave more than raw meat.”

“What else do demons eat?” You’re afraid to ask, especially looking at Jungkook’s soft smile through the mirror's reflection. 

“Blood. Both animal and human.”

Your throat tightens. 

“Demons also consume humans raw or they can be cooked.”

Your mouth salivates and your eyes begin to water. You want to vomit at his words. The thought of the child being so hungry that you consume human meat and blood…

But then as you think about it, you’re even more frightened by how hungry you’re beginning to feel at the thought of it. 

Jungkook places his chin on your shoulder and smirks. Slowly, you were going to come around. As a human, you were naturally weak and simple minded - but you’d change. You’d eventually come to trust him and love the child growing inside of you. You were a woman after all, and women tend to be nurturing and loving. 

“You can even drink my blood.”

Your brow knit together at Jungkook’s words. 

“Some demons also feed on other demons. That’s more of a power gaining way, however, it’s still possible. Since you are bound to me, it’ll be more of an intimate type of way.” Jungkook speaks. He holds your gaze in the mirror, not faltering. 

“Is this another way for you to have my soul or something?” Drinking a demon's blood was not something you’ve ever heard of, but it had to be more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

Jungkook chuckles. You were smart, he thinks. However, humans could never be as smart as a demon. “Your soul already belongs to me. As does your body, mind, heart and your womb.” But, you’d come to love and trust him a little quicker if he had his blood flowing through you.

You sigh in defeat.

“Would you like to try it?”

You swallow and shake your head. 

Jungkook hums. “Afraid you’d like it?”

Yes. “No.” you quip. “I-I…I’m human.” you blink away to avoid his eyes. “It’s just too much to handle right now.”

“You cannot keep starving our son. How about you eat the steak first and get accustomed to animal blood. Then we’ll transition from there.”

EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I can’t stay.”

Your boss slowly turns to look at you. “Why not?”

“I told you I can no longer do any overtime.” you murmur.

You were slowly accepting the fact that you were pregnant by Jungkook and though he was a demon, you suppose it had perks to it. 

One of the perks was conjuring, as Jungkook put it. Your son was growing rapidly as was his powers. You were able to conjure up whatever he desired, and also whatever you did. But sometimes it was something you could not control. You recall sitting at your desk thinking about how thirsty you were and had been shocked when in front of you sat a gallon of water. You sat embarrassed when you drunk the entirety of it in under five minutes. 

Being pregnant also meant you were always hungry and tired, the demonic child completely draining you at times. You only felt energy when Jungkook was around and holding you. You’re positive he was using his own demonic powers to give you energy, but you never asked and he never confirmed anything. 

With furrowed brows, your boss scoffs. “It’s not like you have anything else to do.”

You blink. 

“You’re single and pregnant.” your boss continues and now you’re taken aback. “Don’t you think you need the money?”

You can feel your blood boiling. The office was getting empty by the minute, your co-workers all scattering off. You would stay late with your boss to do extra work at times, but it was never mandatory. You were always getting pushed over and were far too nice to tell your boss to fuck off. 

“I…” you’re unsure what to say. “Who says I’m single?”

That’s seriously what you’re upset about, being assumed a single mother? But you couldn’t help it. You wore a ring for heaven's sake - sure it was given to you by a demon, but it was still a ring! You’re unsure if Jungkook meant what he said about the two of you being married - again, demon and human. You and he were nod wed at a church like you always imagined you’d be, but you were bound together.

Your boss snickers once more. 

“Well I never see a man pick you up. Your lunches are often spent alone. I don’t judge, Y/N. Single mothers are all around the world.”

You shake your head at your boss's words. 

“If anything, if you are dating someone, the guys an asshole for allowing you to work while pregnant anyways-”

Your boss suddenly screams. You flinch away from him with wide eyes as your boss is engulfed in flames. Literal flames. The pale blue and orange flames engulf him entirely, the smell of burning flesh meets your nostrils. 

The fire alarm is loud, and soon you’re being wet due to the sprinkles above you. You're frozen and your eyes are wide with shock and fear. The loud screams echo in your ears and all you can do is watch as your boss lays onto the ground.

The scenery changes in an instant and you’re no longer in the office, but your bedroom. You swallow, shuddering. 

“My beautiful human…”

Jungkook appears before you. He frowns at your appearance. 

“You’re wet.” Jungkook hums. “And trembling. You’re probably wondering what’s wrong.”

You sob, utterly confused at what in the world that just transpired in a matter of seconds. Your knees buckle and when you feel as if you’re going to fall to your knees, Jungkook catches you. 

“I told you that our son will get stronger as time goes on.” Jungkook speaks, tone soft. “You will gain his power and if it isn’t controlled, it will be unruly.”

You gasp.

Oh no.

“I-I did that?” you’re horrified.

Jungkook wants to coo at your innocence. “Of course you did. Our son played a big role. He doesn’t like when anyone bad-talks his parents.”

Jungkook's expression shows that of a proud father, but you’re more terrified than anything else. 

“You also wanted to.” Jungkook continues. “You felt it in you, right? The way your blood boiled. The anger.”

You snap your eyes shut. You never wanted to hurt anyone before, but Jungkook was correct. The anger you felt at your bosses words - how you were assumed to be a single mother that just needed the money because of that reason. How sinister your boss spoke to you - as if you weren’t a human that deserved decency.

“It’s okay, my beautiful human.” Jungkook rubs your back to calm you. He can sense the rise in your heart beat. “You’ve done what you thought was right. Give in to it.”

You swallow. “I-I…I don’t think I can go back.” 

“You don’t need to.” Jungkook assures. “What are you working for when everything can be provided for you by me?”

“I do have bills.” you retort.

Jungkook snorts. “Bills are something humans created out of boredom. That isn’t something you have to worry about.” Jungkook leans away to have a look at you. “How about you come live with me?”

You flinch away from him. “In Hell?” you appear as if Jungkook’s hands burned you by the way you smacked them away.

“Don’t be foolish, Y/N. I won’t be taking you to Hell.” Yet, Jungkook thinks. “Demons do have to hide in the human realm. I have a home where I often stay while on Earth.”

You blink.

You never thought about where Jungkook goes when he isn’t with you. You always assumed he went to Hell - how he got there you weren’t sure. Yet again, he came and went as he pleased whenever he wanted to.

“It’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you. You don’t have to work. Don’t want you burning the whole place down, do we?” 

Jungkook’s attempts at a joke isn’t amusing. You have never been more terrified in your life, and knowing now that you were the reason for it sends shivers up your spine. 

“I guess so.”

Jungkook smiles at you, a smile that meant more than you were looking into.

SEVEN MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“Isn’t it cute?” your mother beams as she holds up the small article of clothing.

You swallow, grasping it in your hands. It’s a baby’s onesie - one that’s soft at the touch and so small that it causes your heart to swell. It’s gray, your mother’s attempt to be gender neutral, and comes with a little hat.

“Have you gone to see what the gender is?” your mother asks you.

You blink up from the onesie and slowly nod your head.

You haven’t gone, of course. You had put all of your trust into Jungkook - a part of you screaming that it was a bad idea. However, you didn’t need your son (or you) killing anyone else.

 Jungkook assured that the baby was safe and the happiest he’s ever felt. You moved in with Jungkook - shocked to see that he lived in a secluded estate deep in a forested area - and never truly had to worry about anything. You had an unlimited amount of food - even raw meat supplied by your son - and always rested for as long as you wanted; going as far as sleeping a full 24 hours.

“It’s a boy.” you murmur.

Your mother’s eyes widened and slowly, so did her smile. She suddenly wraps you in a tight embrace - a sudden one. You were frightened by the suddency of it. You didn’t want the baby to assume she was attempting to hurt you and have your mother fall to the same  fate as the doctor and your boss.

“That’s so lovely.” your mother exclaims during her hug. When she releases you, you sigh in relief. “A boy is a blessing.”

You could only give a soft smile. 

“Come. Let’s look for more clothing now that I know I’m having a grandson.”

Your mothers excitement is refreshing. You try not to think of the future when you give birth. If the baby had such strength and power while not being born, you can imagine what he would be like just as a newborn or a toddler. The thought often keeps you wondering, even if Jungkook assures you that everything would be alright.

Your mother was right about one thing. When she dragged you from her home while visiting her to a baby boutique, she said it would bring you joy to buy things for the baby. She recalls the times she did the same for you before you were born, both of your mothers joyfully picking out everything pink and girly - just for you to soon get tired of the bright colors; how ironic. 

Your hand places itself onto the bump of your stomach - that has since grown in size. You’re positive that normal women weren’t this size at just three months, but you would have to remind yourself that your circumstances weren’t the same as anyone else's. 

In your free hand is an all black pajama onesie. It’s basic, nothing truly special about it. There was no graphic or letter on it, however it caught your attention.

You feel a kick on your lower stomach, and you snort. “You like it, too?” you murmur to the child, the hand on your stomach gently rubbing. “You’ll look a lot like your father if you wore this. All black…”

Your body feels warm; euphoric. You shudder at the unfamiliar feeling. Your skin litters with goosebumps and your heart begins to jolt. Your mind blanks for a moment, and it’s as though you’re no longer in the boutique. You glance up from the onesie, completely still at the sight before you. It was an outer body experience, as if you’re watching yourself through a lens.

Humming, a low familiar tone you recall your own mothers humming to you. You see yourself, arms occupied with a baby as you rock said baby back and forth, humming the familiar tune to calm him down. The baby’s eyes are open and it’s then that you recognize the crimson eyes that are similar to Jungkook.

“Are you okay?”

When you blink, it’s as if the world comes back to normal. The soft music in the boutique continues, and you’re now looking at your mother.

What in the world just happened?

“Yeah.” you nod your head.

“Is that all you’re getting?”

You shake your head. “No. Just thinking…” you murmur. 

Your mother doesn’t pry and you’re thankful for that.

‘Our son is communicating with you.’

Jungkook’s voice rings through your head. Your eyes glance around the boutique and you ponder where he could be at. 

‘I’m not here, beautiful human. I still have access to you even if you are not with me.’

That explains things.

‘Our son has found a way to communicate with you. He’s telling you that he’s happy.’

You glance at your mother for a moment.

‘Didn’t you feel the euphoria run through you? Your mood has changed and now you’re glowing, my beautiful human. You see what happens when you accept the product of our bond?’

Everyday there’s something new with the child. You’ve already conjured whatever you desired, set someone on fire and a few times found yourself instant transferring yourself somewhere. Jungkook called the action ‘blinking’ and you could only do it a couple feet away, however you did it regardless. Now knowing that the fetus is communicating with you sends shivers up your spine.

Later on that night, you find yourself in the forest area. The sun has since set and you were alone. You’re unsure where Jungkook was, but you never dwelled on it. He always returned right before you went to bed.

In any other situation, you’d be frightened to walk alone at night - especially in such a secluded area. However, it was as if fear was slowly removing itself from your life. You recall Jungkook’s words from months prior. You were immortal now in a way. Whatever threat your son felt was eliminated and a deep part of you feels liberated about it.

Your head snaps when you hear a sound like leaves rustling. Your eyes squint, the only source of light is the moon above.

It appears to be the size of a dog, you note. You’ve never seen a fox up close before. Its fur is an auburn color and its eyes stare right at you, unmoving.Suddenly, its tail begins to move, the thick bushy swooping back and forth.

You take a step closer and, alerted, the fox begins to flee.

Your mind doesn’t register what you’re doing. Your feet already pick up and now you’re chasing the fast animal. Your speed astonishes you. You’re pregnant, appearing more far along into pregnancy then what you actually were. You don’t recall when you’ve ever run this fast in your life.

In a matter of seconds, your scenery changes and you’re in front of the fox, startling it. Your fingers dig into the thick fur of the fox and you fall to your knees. You aren’t aware of what you’re doing, not even when your teeth - now sharp and canine like - sink into the foxes neck. 

You don’t register the screeching the fox does when you repeatedly sink your teeth into it, blood splatting onto your clothing, hands and face. The taste hits your mouth and you’re unable to stop the feast, the blood hitting your throat and satiating a thirst you weren’t aware you held.

Only when the animal was drained did you realize what you’ve done - and what you could possibly look like now. Your eyes widened and you began to shake. Suddenly, right beside the drained dead fox, did you vomit.

SIX MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

You cried and cried and cried that night you killed an animal with your bare hands. And now, a month later, you continue to cry as you’re covered in animal blood. You’re disgusted with how good it tastes and how willing you are to keep doing it.

“You’re going to have to stop crying eventually.” Jungkook dips the ring he has given you underneath the running water. “You’re feeding our son. You should never feel saddened about that.”

“I killed it with my bare hands!” you wail, hiccuping. Your stomach churns for even more blood - your son just wants to mock you, you’re sure. 

Jungkook turns off the water and sighs. He places the ring to dry on a paper towel before turning to you. 

“As you should. Our son needs to eat.” Jungkook takes a few steps closer to your weeping figure. “Come on, my beautiful human. Let’s go bathe.”

Bathing with Jungkook was something he insisted on doing every once in a while - he understands it calms you down, even when you won’t admit it.

The shower and the tub are separate and the water is warm upon entering. You feel self-conscious about your naked body at times, it was growing hard to see your own feet or anything below you as you walked. But you were making the most of your situation.

The water running down the drain is red, obviously due to the animal that you slaughtered and ate. You rub along your skin with the warm water and sigh when you feel yourself slowly start to calm down.

You feel a cold substance on your shoulders and you shudder. Then, there’s hands - Jungkook’s - rubbing along them. You sigh, melting into his touch. For a moment, it’s silent and neither of you say anything. The shower water slaps against the floor as Jungkook’s hands work along your neck.

“Our son is getting stronger.” Jungkook says. “His hunger will grow as he does. You can’t keep crying each time you kill an animal.”

Your head falls back against Jungkook’s chest and you sigh. “I know.” you say, but it didn’t make things any better. “I just feel bad afterwards.”

“You eat meat all the time.” Jungkook snorts. 

“That I don’t have to kill!” you retort. 

Jungkook is silent and you take it upon yourself to finish your shower, making sure to wash every inch of you until you’re satisfied. Once you were, you turned towards Jungkook to find that he also had been washing. His eyes are on you, and slowly, a smile forms onto his lips. 

“Let’s bathe.” he says, rinsing himself off. 

Jungkook doesn’t allow any retorts. With a flick of a hand, the shower turns off and the bath - around 10 feet away from the shower - turns on. You watch as he sits inside the bath, back against the cold tub. “Come.” he says.

You roll your eyes, but comply. 

“Don’t face me.” Jungkook says. “I want us both to relax.”

Relaxing means your back against Jungkook’s chest while he lays a hand upon your bump. It’s like your son always knows when Jungkook’s near, you can see just how your stomach shifts wildly.

“Would it be better if I killed the animals for you?” Jungkook asks suddenly. His hands rub another part of your stomach to meet the baby’s kicks and it looks like a game between the two.

You shrug your shoulders. “Not really sure what the difference is. I’m still going to feel sad about it.”

“You humans are fragile.” Jungkook snorts. “The difference is you wouldn’t have to be so bloody at the end of it all.”

“I suppose you’re right.” you hum, but you didn’t want to talk about that anymore. The water is the perfect temperature and it relaxes your nerves throughout. Whatever game your child and Jungkook was playing seemed to die down, he was no longer kicking or punching.

“My beautiful human…” 

You feel Jungkook’s lips on your neck, placing soft kisses. You’re already knowing what the man wants, especially when his hand dips down from your bump to between your legs.

“Should’ve known this was just an excuse to get between my legs.” you acknowledged. 

You feel a tickle from Jungkook’s breath, a chuckle at your response. “The same legs that are widening for me to gain more access?”

Jungkook had a point, you think. There’s a hand gripping your breast while the other begins to play with your clit. You bite your lip at the feeling.

It’s crazy to think how domesticated you became. You no longer shied away from Jungkook when it came to sex - because it was inevitable. He was going to take you regardless if you denied him or not; the hot throbbing feeling between your legs growing needier by the second if you hadn’t. 

Not only with sex, but you became happy to see Jungkook - as if he wasn’t a demon fated to ruin your human life. You wake up with Jungkook by your side, a hand on your stomach. You and he ate together - what human food you could tolerate - and you didn’t feel like being with him was a burden. 

Your son was happiest when Jungkook was around, too. The kicks that would send shockwaves through your body only ever happened when the man was close - it was how you knew Jungkook was near before he made his presence known.

“I can never keep my hands from you, my beautiful human.” Jungkook steadies two fingers inside of you. “You’re glowing.”

You snicker, but it’s died down with a moan. Jungkook begins to pump inside of you, the splashing of the water evident with the pace he’s going. 

“Our son is sucking all the life out of me.” you retort. You never looked like yourself. There were times you’d look in the mirror and swear you’d seen a ghost - and even the faintest crimson color in your eyes. 

Jungkook freezes, his kissing on your neck coming to a halt.

“What’s wrong?” you question, ready to remove yourself from him when Jungkook brings you back. 

“This is the first time you called him our son.” Jungkook says, a small smirk forming onto his lips against your skin. Slowly, you were adjusting to the changes Jungkook had forced upon you - like you should be.

“Not like you gave me a choice.” you murmur in defense. “I stopped calling him an it months ago.”

You have, but to hear you say our son like you have is different, but the demon doesn’t dwell on it, he had a job to do, and it was to make you cum.

TWO MONTHS BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

The first time you’ve tried human blood had your taste buds going crazy - you swore you’ve never tasted anything as savory before. You never wanted anything else afterwards, and if you did, it had to be drenched in human blood. 

The raw streak you ate had a blood bag of human blood, obtained by Jungkook who always satiated your thirst for blood. 

There was a time in which you ate fries with a side of human blood because ketchup couldn’t satisfy you or your son.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat - enjoys feeling his son's demonic aura. You’ve grown in size, far larger than a human pregnancy. His son was large; small hand and foot prints pushing against your stomach to be released.

Jungkook likes to watch you eat because now you no longer cared about how you looked. Your appearance took a slight change - thanks to the child. Your eyes matched his own, the crimson color. Your face appeared more full, as did your breast - an action he wasn’t opposed to.

You now fully embraced that you were birthing a demon and you’d remain by his side for eternity - and now that you’ve accepted the fact, it made things easier.

“Damn it.” your mother curses, dropping the sharp knife she was holding. It clunks against the ground, droplets of blood falling besides it.

Your eyes zone in on your mother clenching her finger. This was the first time she was in your home - she insisted on cooking for you and Jungkook as this was the first time she’s been meeting him.

The iron smell of your mothers blood reaches your nostrils and there’s a low groan that releases from your lips.

‘No.’ you tell yourself. ‘Not her.’

You swallow. “Are you okay?”

Your mother snickers. “Yeah. Just cut myself. Let me get this cleaned up.”

Your mother turns on the faucet to clean the blood from her finger. You release a sigh, placing a hand upon your stomach. Your son is moving, obviously having sensed the human blood near.

‘I can’t eat her.’ you tell your son, stern with your choice. The fetus is upset, sending a few kicks against your spine, but you were adamant. 

“Is everything alright?”

Jungkook blinks into the room on que, thankfully your mother had her back turned. 

‘Why is our son trying to break your back?’ Jungkook asks you, his eyes on your face. But before you can answer, he eyes your mother and can smell the blood.

“Luckily for you,” Jungkook places a white cup with a lid and straw in your hand and gives you a wink. “I’ve brought refreshments.”

Your mother loves Jungkook - who knows demons can make break impressions. She had not suspected he was anything but human and you’ve noted that this was the first time you saw Jungkook had dark eyes instead of the crimson ones. 

You’ve never seen Jungkook interact with anyone that wasn’t you and the act appeared…human like. He ate your mothers cooking, he complimented it. He laughed and joked with your mother and oftentimes would place a hand on your bump when your son was craving more than what your mother cooked.

“I think you two are good together.” your mother says at the door while she wraps you in a hug. “You look…happy. So alive.”

You laugh. “Do I?” you aren’t sure if you can call it thought. You were drinking human blood to satisfy the demon growing inside of you.

“Yes. You’re glowing.” your mother takes a look at you with a soft smile. “I haven’t seen this glow since…”

You know where she’s going, but she doesn't say it. She doesn’t wish to ruin a happy moment between the two of you. 

Once your mother is gone, you’re left with Jungkook. He snaps his fingers and the dishes in the sink are gone.

“I can’t believe he was trying to break my back.” you sigh, placing a hand on your stomach. There’s no movement, probably means he was relaxed now after all the mayhem he was causing earlier.

“Yes.” Jungkook places a hand on the top of your bump. “It would’ve healed automatically. Still a stubborn one.”

Like father like son, you think, and all Jungkook can do is hum in agreement.

Sex with Jungkook became a habit - more now than ever. You never questioned him when he said he found you irresistible. You looked ready to explode and you never had any true stamina to help - but Jungkook never cared. He always insisted on eating you out until you’re squirming, suckling on your clit as if his demonic life depended on it.

Even now as you allow Jungkook to fuck into you while you were on top, Jungkook couldn’t help but want to coo at your thoughts - and give you what you want.

‘You can bite me, my beautiful human. It won’t hurt.’ 

You flush hot when you hear Jungkook in your head - that meant he was listening in to what you were thinking. Yet, you shouldn’t be alarmed because he did it so often.

And all you were thinking about was biting him, your mind flooding with his words of months prior. How drinking his blood would be intimate for the both of you.

And now you didn’t care, no longer feeling the disgust as you did months ago. Your teeth gradually sink into the skin of Jungkook’s neck and you bite harshly until you feel the taste of irony on your tongue.

The act alone causes Jungkook to fuck into you harder, fingers bruising into your hips. He grunts a few swear words as your tongue licks upon the bleeding wound. If your former self could see you now - willingly sucking on Jungkook’s neck for any type of blood while he fucks you to his heart (did demons have hearts?) content.

Jungkook’s eyes marvel at you, blood - his blood - trailing down your chin. Your eyes resembled his own (side-effects of the pregnancy) and you appeared to be like a true demon.

‘My beautiful wife.’ Only slightly does your eyes widen from hearing Jungkook in your mind and you’re beginning to think you were hearing things - but you weren’t. This was the first time Jungkook had called you his wife - not beautiful human, but his wife.

Jungkook wraps you in an embrace to bring you closer to him, his lips on your chest. His own teeth sink into you, quivering with pleasure when your blood hits his tongue. His thrusts never stop, not until you’re cumming around him so beautifully and he does the same inside of you.

ONE MONTH BEFORE DRAGGED TO HELL

“I’m trying.” Jimin grits his teeth at the younger demon. “You’ve been gone for months, Kook. They’re asking questions.”

“Then tell them something to make them stop asking questions.” Jungkook hisses back.

“They’re not going to stop asking questions.” Taehyung’s voice sounds from behind Jungkook. “There’s been rumors.”

“Rumors?” Jungkook furrows a brow and scoffs. “What rumors-”

“The infamous Jungkook has grown soft in the Human realm.” Jimin announced, a teasing tone in his voice. “You haven’t been back to the Underworld in so long they’re beginning to think you found someone here.”

“Have you?” Taehyung asks, blinking besides Jimin, to lean against the wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me that look, Kook…it’s just a question.”

“I’ve been working.”

“On?” Jimin questions. 

“Why is it any of your concern?”

“You’ve always told us.” Taehyung retorts. “It’s not like you to leave the Brotherhood without as much as a word.”

“I’m not leaving the Brotherhood.” Jungkook scoffs. “I have business to attend to here.”

“What’s that?” Jimin stands from his seat, eyes roaming around the room. “Do you feel that?”

Jungkook swallows, tongue in his cheek. His son always had the perfect timing to be awake and showcasing whatever power he had. 

“Yeah.” Taehyung glances at Jungkook. “It’s faint but-”

Jimin blinks away and Jungkook already knows where he’s going. He does the same, leaving Taehyung stunned and in the kitchen.

Jungkook is in front of your sleeping figure before Jimin is, eyes glaring at the older demon. 

“Well…” Jimin’s eyes are on you - more so your stomach. “Looks like the child wants out.” the tiny foot and hand prints are pushing against your stomach and not once did you stir, having grown used to it over the months.

“You…” Taehyung eyes you sleeping soundly upon the bed and then back to Jungkook. “...asshole-”

“She’s asleep.” Jungkook hisses, lowering the tone in his own voice. As his son grew, he was growing restless, wanting out of you. He rarely allows you to sleep and now that you were able to, Jungkook wasn’t going to allow his brothers to ruin it.

“Are we going to ignore the obvious child in her stomach?” Jimin murmurs, eyeing your sleeping figure with a moving stomach. “How is she not waking by that alone?”

“She’s grown used to it.” Jungkook glances behind himself at you. He only allows a slight grin before he turns back to his two brothers. “Are you done here?”

Jimin is the first to blink away, followed by Taehyung. Jungkook sighs then does the same, now inside the kitchen once more. 

“When were you going to tell us you’re having a son?” Jimin is upset, now facing Jungkook. 

“I’m so upset.” Taehyung shakes his head. 

Jungkook tilts his head. “I have my reasons.” is all Jungkook says.

Jimin scoffs. “We have to be there when he’s born. It’s a tradition.” he says matter-of-factly. “This is your first son. A new member of the Brotherhood.”

Taehyung watches Jungkook’s reaction. He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t say anything. “Does she not know you’re a demon?” he asks, yet he isn’t sure it’s that. You had to have known that you were pregnant with a non-human child - the fetus was attempting to claw its way out of you as they speak.

“She does.”

Jimin waves his hand. “Then why are you keeping her from us?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook grits. 

“He doesn’t know.” Taehyung states. “That’s why you’re still in the Human realm.”

Jimin furrows his brows, glancing between Jungkook and Taehyung.

Jungkook pokes his tongue through his cheek. He inhales deeply and then nods his head. 

The Source did not know what he was doing or where he was at - and Jungkook was doing everything in his power to keep it that way. He only returns to the Underworld to report back to the Source monthly like all the demons do; especially the upper-level ones such as himself and the Brotherhood. 

A hybrid child is not unknown to the Underworld, but rarely did the human parent survive - most times being killed. Hybrid children were often used to blend into the Human world, most times coming off as “more” humanly than that of a full demon who would have to mask their appearance.

However, Jungkook was not just a demon, but an upper-level one that worked closely to the Source. And though his brothers were accepting of you and his son, that didn’t mean the rest of the Brotherhood would.

“We have to tell the others before they come upon themselves.”

“No.” Jungkook is certain in his choice. “You’ve already called me weak.” Jungkook didn’t want to know what they’d attempt to do if they found you to be a problem with his demonic duties or his power.

“It’s not up for debate.” Taehyung began. “Like Jimin said, this is your first son and we’ll have to be there. It’s a tradition.”

Jungkook knew that it was inevitable - especially now that Jimin and Taehyung knew. He was anticipating that the baby would be born before the Brotherhood intervened - now his plans have changed. 

“You love the human.” Jimin states. “Obviously, the Brotherhood isn’t going to like that.” he chuckles, but at Jungkook’s hard stare, he lifts his hands. “But don’t worry. You have us.”

“They aren’t going to allow you to keep the Human.” Taehyung speaks realism and not what Jungkook wants to hear to spare whatever feelings he holds for you. “Humans bring human feelings and we cannot risk you growing weak because of her.”

“What are you saying?” Jungkook’s eyes are narrowed at Taehyung and the tension in the room grows by the second. 

“I’m saying you need to get rid of the Human.” Taehyung speaks, and it’s as if a pin drops; the silence that comes after Jungkook speaks. “Once the baby is born.”

Jungkook doesn’t react that he wants to - the Brotherhood never attacks their own. But there’s something in his body that holds everything back for him to not attack Taehyung and it’s an act that begins to frighten him - because his brothers were correct. Humans did bring human emotions and if just the thought of you being harmed has Jungkook feeling like this, then you already had a target on your back to prevent a shift in the Brotherhood.

“You can’t kill her. Nor can I.” Jungkook speaks, eyes hard on Taehyung. “We’re already bound together. Brotherhood rule.”

Jimin snickers at his two bickering brothers, both standing tall and refusing to back down. “He’s right, Tae.” Jimin speaks. “The Brotherhood cannot harm or kill a fellow brother’s bound partner.”

Taehyung scoffs with a shake of his head. “How far the Brotherhood has fallen.” he announces. “I’m beginning to think the rumors of you becoming weak are true.”

Taehyung is gone in a blink of an eye, leaving Jungkook and Jimin to look where he once stood. 

“Taehyung will come around.” Jimin sighs. He’s tired of being the mediator between you and Taehyung’s bickering. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Jungkook swallows. “Do tell the Brotherhood to not return until my child is expected to be born.”

Jimin sighs but nods. Jungkook begins to step away and out of his kitchen. “And do tell anyone in the Underworld to test the rumors if they believe them to be true.

“I gave you my word, Y/N. That we'll be together.”

The Underworld isn’t what you’ve expected. Hell is always explained to be a fiery pit - nothing but flames enclosing around you.

This was far from it. 

The Underworld was dark, only light there was lit by candles - thousands of them lit. It’s quieter than you expected, as well. You were once told that Hell was home to evil spirits and those who’d died, forever screaming at their ultimate demise. 

Then again, Jungkook was a demon and you were never told that demons can look god-like.

Your ears pick up on soft coos, your attention fully on the baby in Jungkook’s arms. He was no longer a newborn, but appeared a few months older. 

Your heart swells.

“It wasn’t easy to find your soul, Y/N.” Jungkook speaks, his access to your mind remaining. “But I made you a promise.”

“Can I hold him?” you question. If you asked Jungkook too many questions about the Underworld, what he did and why he did it, you’d be here for an eternity. Your only focus was on your son.

Jungkook watches the way you hold the baby close to you, your nose against his puffed up cheeks. There’s a few more coos from his son, his aura calm and content to have be in your presence once more.

“Jungkook….”

The man stands straighter at the sound of his name leave from your lips.

“...I’m not a human anymore, am I?”

Jungkook gently shakes his head. “No.”

You’re silent for a moment. “And I can’t return back…home?”

“No.” Jungkook murmurs.

You hold the baby closer to you, never wanting to let him go. 

“What about my mother?” you dare to ask, but you’re unsure if you truly want the truth. 

Jungkook licks his lips. “Time is different in the Human realm than it is in the Underworld.” he speaks. “I was leaving the decision to you.”

You glance up from the baby - who is now slowly falling asleep - to Jungkook. “What do you mean?”

“I know how much you cared for her.” Jungkook begins. For the months he’s been with you, your love for your mother remained strong and the pregnancy never ruined the routined you held with her. “To make things easier for her, I can have her memory of you erased.”

You stiffen. “E-Erased?” you question. “As if I was never there?”

Jungkook nods.

You’re unsure what you want Jungkook to do.

You didn’t want your mother to be so heavily involved in your pregnancy. You didn’t know if you’d survive birthing a demon and you didn’t want your mother to lose you and her wife.

Yet, she already has and that thought alone pains you enough.

“I don’t want her to forget us.” you murmur - and maybe it was selfish of you. Your mother would live through such pain alone - the pain of losing her only child and a grandchild she could never meet. “I want her to think we’ve died in childbirth. Can you do that?” It was harsh, you’d admit, but it was your own selfish desire to keep your mother as close as you could. 

Jungkook nods.

“And…you can compel people, right? You have to compel her to accept the fact that I’m gone so she doesn’t try to look further into it.” you hold your son tighter, your voice cracking as you begin to speak.

“I understand.” Jungkook says. “My beautiful wife…” he trails off, coming closer to place a hand upon your cheek. His touch is warm just as you remembered it to be. He offers you a short smile then blinking out of your sight before you can speak.

Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)

@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae @bangtans-momma

[leclercsfilm]

i am your legacy

aegon is out of character. i do indeed hate alicent so much that she turned me into feeling pity for aegon. if alicent has no hater im dead. english is not my first language.

aegon looked at the door.

every moment, he anticipated his mother entering with her own cup of wine, as if she was teasing him. he knew her plan. it was not hard to not know her plan.

for her, he was just a playable character in this game of twist and turns. he was her way. out or in, it doesn't matter.

the noise was heard, yet he didn't look up. he knew better. alicent finally entered the room.

they always came to this. she would always remained him of his duty, of his right. but his right was given, not earned. and, because of that, he was truly afraid.

aegon knew the real reason behind the cruel death of his beloved son. aegon's younger brother, killed lucerys. which caused the anger on the blacks side. it should have ended right then, year's ago, with aemond's eye out.

now aegon wished he could at least comfort his family about this new 'situation'.

their actions have consequences. just because they've made aegon a king, that doesn't mean they are not immune to the blow.

it's almost as no one truly cares. aegon locked himself in his chambers, yet no one tried to even reach for his door. everyone is referring to his son as 'the boy' as if they are not related at all.

they are not even angry, or sad for his violent death. they are just angry for the lack of naivety of people. they are angry because their power slipped away from them.

'i see you are here, not attending your duites...' - she barks at him

'i see no reason to do so.'

'you are king, at least you need to keep an appearance.' she chuckled 'people are looking up to you now. you are their source of power.'

'what kind of power do i have, mother? what power do i have over you and your rats?' - aegon looked at her

he was at the table, playing with his fingers. he stopped doing it for so many years. after his sons vdeath, he became quickly familiar with an old habit of his.

'we will not have this conversation now.' - she furrowed her brows, and pressed her lips. she is taunting him.

'i don't see any use of me then.' - aegon looked down at his feet.

alicent pitied only herself. she wasnt like this before. what if it wasn't his son beheaded that night, what if it was helaena, or maybe aemond? would she then care at all?

'its rather funny, how many things have you done in my name...'

mocking her, reminding her of her constant failure of trying to be into politics. she had a taste of politics once, and now she had a right to marsh into council and question his decisions.

a silence overruled. the only noise that was heard was alicent letting go of her necklace that she was playing with since begining.

'for your actions my people will blame me, not you, mother.'

alicent closed her eyes to calm herself. she quickly grabbed her goblet, thinking as if all of this was for her son, right? or was it for her father? maybe somehow it all turned out to be for her?

'it was easier with my dead father.' - aegon stated out of blue.

he touched his unruly thin hair, thinking for himself, was it the silver hair that made people follow him? clearly, it can't be his manhood. rhaenyra's heir has it as well. but he does not have his silver hair.

'he would do his own thing. in his own world. alone in a room.'

alicent stared at her son. they never had a conversation about viserys. that man was dead for them since begining.

'maybe you tormented him as you do me now.' - aegon countinued with his insults

alicent quicly stands.

'how dare you question my loyalty, my doings with your father? viserys was nothing but a content man beside me. rhaenyra left him here alone when he was fighting with that awful illness-'

'we all know why my half-sister left.' - he started

'you speaking exhausts me more then waking up after a night full of wine, mother.' - aegon countinioued his insults

'the best thing you can do is to leave. let the king to attend his duties, with his council.'

his melancholy turned bittersweet. his face was graced with a little smirk, who is fighting to not become a mocking laugh.

alicent turned away, leaving her gobblet at the table. she was already overwhelmed with a fight from morning with cole. now she has angry aegon roaming the castle.

'without you mother, of course. maybe you need to pray... you've lost a grandson, haven't you?'

'or, perhaps, queen mother would like to do.... nothing?'

with that, alicent had left. she needed to see father and encourage to feed aegons ego before he does something unrational.

gabblet full of wine was thrown. wine was all over the floor, shining in a candle light.

'you forgot i am you legacy. you forgot i can be just like you.'

[threepandas]

Bad End: Kept Safe

[Art by Miu_A]

You ever give someone advice, knowing full well they aren't going to take it? Even AFTER they have begged and pleaded and WHINED at you, for hours, for it? Even after they poured their heart and soul out to you? And you, a good friend, carefully and tactfully, tried your best to help? LIKE THEY ASKED?

Ever find yourself the designated "run too dramatically weep in the arms off" friend?

I have.

It is hell. I am in hell.

This is my punishment for all those hours I spent reading and playing Otome Isekai junk instead of, I don't know, solving world hunger or something. Because it HAS to be. I am clearly being punished. Repeatedly. By some sort of petty, petty, anime God.

Fuck you too, buddy.

A fresh round of highly dramatic Protagonist sobbing peirces the air. Dear lord, she has a set of lungs on her, does she? It's like an air siren. But more... upset toddler. It was bizarre. I'd LIKED her as a character. I HAD. Bright and cheerful, determined with a good heart. She'd been a bit naive, yes, but she'd grown. Love had changed her for the better.

But THIS?

This was some middle school "he threw away my secret note, that I didn't sign, so that means he HATES MEEEEE~" bullshit. It went on and on and ON! God, it'd been MONTHS! Years!

I made friends with the Protagonist when we were in The Royal Academy. The story's setting. It SHOULD have finished by graduation. SHOULD. HAVE. But DID it? No! This nonsense had spilled into the COURT! The general population! Actual political factions were starting to get involved!

All because my "friend" COULDN'T PICK A MAN.

And she didn't listen. I tried. God, how I TRIED! No matter HOW I phrased "just fucking TALK to them" it didn't get through her dense fucking skull. I tried taking a break. To calm down. She HUNTED ME DOWN with her little Harem of political trainwrecks!

That poor port city STILL has yet to recover from the chaos they unleashed.

I don't... God, I don't even LIKE her anymore. I've just been reduced to her HANDLER. Forced into girlish tea parties devoid of any taste, because no one ELSE will come. Followed by winces and pitying looks by every lady in all of polite society. The sacrifice to keep HER distracted, lest her gaurd dogs decide its a good idea to do something unhinged again.

It's exhausting.

I'm not even listening.

She seems to have worked through her usual cycle of "cry, mope, what about meeeee~, then I going to go be Plucky at them! Tee Hee~♡!". Good, good. You go have fun, you little train wreck. I'm going to go find an actual ADULT to hide behind.

I have my maids change me out of an outfit that, frankly? I am too old for. I am not sixteen. We are not GIRLS, for the heaven's sake. We are WOMEN. It was a cute outfit. I enjoyed wearing it, back when I was physically young enough that it was appropriate. But even THEN... that's the down side of the whole "isekai" thing.

You keep your mental age.

Everyone around you? INFANTS. Fresh faced babies. You are being flirted with by fourteen year olds and? It is DISGUSTING. They can never be anything more then "cute kids" to you. The characters you once thirsted over? Reduced to actual, living, breathing, pre-schoolers.

There's no going back after that. I'll NEVER unsee it. Can only continue to age, even as they simply... grow up. And then? When they started behaving like FOUR YEAR OLDS? Forget it! I'm beginning to share my parents fears I may die single.

At least I have a refuge. A place of SANITY and SENSE.

I grab the imported wine I had purchased. I'd noticed him drink it before on special occasions. Found a tea seller that was willing to also bring some back. Mother LOVED the tea and my friend was going to love the wine, I could just tell.

Cautiously poking my head out of the guest apartments i was staying in, I checked the hall. Left. Right. Left. Thank god. No Protagonist in sight, she hasn't come back yet. Better hurry though.

I walk fast and keep close to the wall. Ducking into alcoves at every new female voice. Passing servants, Nobles, and the occasional Knight either murmur what they know of Protagonist's last known location or politely pretend not to see me. For anyone else, this would be scandalous behavior. For ME? Well... everyone knew EXACTLY why I was being driven to such extremes.

I thankfully reached the governance wing unmolested. It was far quite and none of the pack of fools ever really set foot here. Not ever the ones who were SUPPOSED to be busy learning their future roles as leaders of this country. God, I could only hope the third prince somehow quietly pulls a coup.

Not that I'd SAY that.

The gaurds don't even bother to announce me, I'm here so often. Merely opening the door. I maintain my decorum none the less. JUST long enough for the doors to finally close and I am able to drop my social mask like whipping of my bra after a long day. Oh thank fuuuuuuck. FREEDOM!

A familiar chuckle, like incense smoke, wafts from the second floor of the office.

"Oh my~, so tired?" My friend muses, his voice that ever lilting purr. I hear him closing whatever heavy tome he's currently studying. "And so early in the DAY! Was it the little nuisance again? Surely she must have SOMETHING better to do?"

Gently putting the wine I'm gifting him on his desk, I then throw up my arms. You would THINK! Wouldn't you?! It's an old complaint. And frankly? I'm glad he still let's me vent about it. It HAS to get old. Yet? He let's me complain anyway.

I met the, roughly translated, "Keeper Of The Shield" at one of the Crown Prince's many ridiculous parties. I was dragged along as Protagonist's plus one. Because GOD FORBID she bring one of her suitors! That might lean towards CHOICE! Can't have THAT!

It was an overly dramatic, gaudy, slow motion trainwreck from beginning to end. I? Got very, VERY drunk. I knew I shouldn't. It was wildly inappropriate. But I was HORRIFIED. Hid near the balconies and drank to forget. Contemplating jumping.

Was likely the only one there my age NOT in ten layers of bows and fabric flowers. It was probably why Crevan decide to talk to me. That and the look of abject suffering. He informed that, sadly, the balconies were locked. But if I planned to maim my self to escape, he could probably boost me up enough to reach the upper windows.

I choked on my drink and guffawd like an idiot. It was SUPER flattering. Very pretty. And honestly? The best conversation I'd had in YEARS. He was droll. Witty. Snarky. In just as much hell as I was. We gleefully narrated the drama playing out before us in as cutting a manner as possible. Grown adults, government officals! Behaving like fucking CHILDREN.

Only after, did I learn I had been chatting with the equivalent of the minister of the Defense. THE commander of our nation's defensive forces. All of them. Knights, army, spies. All of it. And the poor man had been dragged from his desk to play party prop by a glorified teenager. I was horrified. Appalled. Fucking OUTRAGED to learn that it was just... normal!

This country was a nightmare! Otome games are HELL. Lacey, sparkly HELL!!!

But at least I had Crevan to keep me sane. He was always willing to listen. Advise when he could. We had HOPED that Protagonist would start maturing... I'd even mentioned it, but it just seemed like she back slid again and again! Trapping me. Isolating me! Ruining my chances to move ON and have a LIFE!

I don't know what went wrong! Is it me? Am I too hand holdy? It's starting to destabilize the country! Not that the royal family even seems to notice! God no, if it weren't for Crevan, the whole PLACE would have collapsed!

I flop down on my couch. Technically it's not "mine", but honestly? He's fooling no one. The man barely had ANY guest furniture before we became friends. It's totally my couch. (He even got a tea table for us, the softy.)

"Oh? A gift? How thoughtful, dear~" It's only months of friendship that keep from jumping these days. I should get that man a BELL. "Would you like some?"

I can't help but huff a laugh. He always looks to PLEASED when he gets the jump on someone. Startles them. A mischievous asshole, that one. Touchy, too. Forever cupping my cheek or earnestly taking my hand. Patting my head. Guiding me by the elbow or shoulder. He has so few friends... I am certain he is touch starved.

A thought occurs to him, as he pours two cups. A sly grin stretching across his face as he turns to offer me a cup. The wine's scent mixes, burning and delicate, with the ever present smells of incense and his favorite herbal cigarettes. Blurring the senses and relaxing. It's a pretty strong drink.

"You KNOW... it just occurs to me! Darling, if you want to avoid that pest? Why not spend the day HERE? I'd love to have you. " his voice becomes low and serious for a moment, almost catching me off gaurd, bouncing back before I can really think about it. "You could trash my shelves again! Camp out on my couches! It'll be like a little party~ Just you and me! Not a care in the world. You won't have to worry a single thing~"

He grins, glasses catching the light, toothy like the old scheming fox he is.

"I'll keep you nice and safe~"

[itsmearia01]

Past Love || Prolog

Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Itadori's best friend! F! Reader

A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. (btw, here Sukuna is considered as king and you considered as the queen) And there are some OCs that I added to add more drama. Hope you like it!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1

Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.

Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.

(Y/N) (L/N) or now known as Ryomen Sukuna's wife. That night was a wedding between you and Sukuna. Your father, who is the only parent you have now, is the figure behind all of this. It all started with him make you engaged to hundred year old demon when you were 12 years old. And now you are 18 years old, which means it's time to get married.

Many important people come, make you have to smile throughout the event. And when it all ends, that night you ended up at your bedroom alone. You reflect on all the things happened.

They think you're happy, they all think you love him. All this time you have to act like you can't live without Sukuna. You have to act like you love him. No, of course you don't love him. You admit he's quite hot, but he's not your type. You don't like mean, psychopathic men. You like gentle and loving men.

Your father always forced you to be obsessive with Sukuna and act like you love him. So you always hurting women who tease him because your father told you to. But you can't do much if Sukuna wants those women. So you are the antagonist.

You're 100% sure he's with one of his mistresses now. As the first wife of Ryomen Sukuna, everyone is sorry for you because he likes to sleep with other women. But you don't mind it, you don't care. But THEY CARE, those who think you love him.

"What should I say to your majesty?"

You hear the waiters talking behind the wall, you start to focus on listening.

"Did lord Sukuna slept with his lover?" Ask someone you recognize as your personal guard now. "Yes. I have to immediately bring this dinner to queen (Y/N)."

Not long after the conversation ended, your bedroom door was opened. "excuse me queen, this is your dinner." He said while put down the tray of your dinner. "Thank you, did he slept with his mistress?" you ask.

The butler raised his head, looking at you with pitying eyes. "I-That's right, Your Highness." he answered nervously. You sighed and told him to leave. Before leaving the room, he look at you with pity once again.

Several months passed, nothing special. He always looks at you disgusted, because he also thinks you're obsessed with him. When you meet Sukuna, he always with his concubines and those concubines always grin at you.

You have to be patient, this is for your family.

That day, he suddenly call you and everyone to the great hall. He was with a woman as usual, but something was different.

"I want to make this women, as my first wife." He said. Everyone was shocked. Because if he wants to make that woman his first wife, it means that she will replace your position. You saw the woman smiling innocently, but you can see her grin.

Because Sukuna wanted to make that woman his first wife, all support for you disappeared and turned to that woman. After your father investigated the woman named Yurika Sato, a illegitimate daughter of a lowly noble who went bankrupt.

The thing that made he attracted to her was because of her innocence. Sukuna really likes innocent women and really hates rude women like you. And just as you'd think, Sukuna will eventually replace you and take Yurika as his first wife.

But you realize this is your chance to escape. You tell your father that you will run away and he agrees. Just in time for the wedding between Sukuna and Yurika, you packed up your things and leave a farewell note. Finally, after everything Sukuna did to you from betrayal, his harsh words, and other acts of cruelty that you received from him, you are finally free.

You and your father still communicating by letter and he bought you a house that is not big but still very nice. Now you live in a village and sell cakes you make by yourself.

Until one day something special happens in your life. At that time you were walking around in the market suddenly you hit bye someone and fell. When you look at that person it was a tall handsome man.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry." He says. Reaching out his hand to help you up. And that's when you were get to know to him. It was strange that an aristocratic family name was used by a commoner like him. You were suspicious, but you were a person who believed easily when he said that he completely unrelated to nobles, he happened to share the same last name.

He work as a doctor in this village.

Months have passed and now you know him better, you start developed romantic feelings for each other.

One day he proposed to you and you happily accepted. It's been a month since you were married and you read a letter from your father explaining that the capital in chaos. There are so many evil curses attacking everything around.

You want to go there, but hampered by your body feeling unwell. You keep feeling nauseous and vomiting, your menstruation hasn't come since a month ago. You finally checked secretly with other doctors in the village. Unfortunately, it took a few days to find out.

Three days have passed and there is still no news about the results. Due to getting another letter from your father and worrying about him, you finally decide to go to the capital that day without your husband knowing.

But you don't realize that will be where it ends. You didn't find your father at your family's residence, and you immediately went to Sukuna's residence. You find your father fighting a curse and behind him is Sukuna. When your father neglects to help the others, sukuna who somehow looks very weak is attacked by a special grade curse.

Time went fast, you ran trying to protect Sukuna's body and in the end the curse attack hit your stomach. You lay down weakly and heard screams of your father, Sukuna, and your husband who somehow were there. You see them approaching you and screaming for someone to heal you. And what surprised you the most was when your husband shouted, "SHE'S PREGNANT!"

It's too late. You was already unconscious and fell asleep forever.

_____

"HAH- HAH- HAH."

You wake up from your sleep, the dream is again in your mind. You quickly looked at the time and realized that you would be late for school. You hurry up and get ready for school. Go downstairs and find your father and sibling eating in the dining room.

You grabbed a loaf and rushed out of the house ignoring your father's screams telling you to come back.

And this is your life now, (Y/N) (L/N) the only one daughter of a rich family which has one of the most successful companies in the world.

On the way to school, you keep imagining the dreams you've had every day since you were 12 years old until now. No matter how much you deny it, You know that it's not just a dream but an incident that happened in the past. Maybe it was your past life.

To be continued

A/N : Hello! This is the end of the prologue, once again English is not my first language, btw your family won't be featured much in the next chapters, so it's okay if you don't have any siblings to imagine in the story. Sorry if there are any wrong words. I feel it's too long for prolog, so I'm sorry but hope you like this story and waiting for the first chapter! Banners credit to @cafekitsune !

[bones4thecats]

Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.3) ~ RoR/SnV x Child! Reader

Type of Writing: Poll Result Characters: Qin Shi Huang, Jack the Ripper, Sasaki Kojiro, & Child! Reader Name: Adopting Their Fallen Enemy's Child (PT.4) Original Poll Link: Here Other Parts: (PT.1), (PT.2), & (PT.3)

A/N: Okay, this is the final part of this series until the next few rounds of Ragnarok come out! Now, enjoy!!

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👑 This guy never realized a small child watching his fight against the God of the Underworld, Hades

👑 So, when he heard many Gods yelling and the small footsteps of a child's, he spun himself around while Alvitr gasped and said your name

👑 Qin Shi Huang had a small soft spot for children, and whenever he saw one crying, he'd feel so bad for them, no matter their status

👑 But, he was the most sad for you...

👑 You looked completely different from your father, the only real things telling you guys were family was the leaf markings on your face and neck, your elf-like ears, and aura you both carried

👑 He paused and looked at his Valkyrie for some help, in which she just looked at you with pity before motioning her hand to you

👑 Qin sat down next to you as you bawled where your father once stood, asking him why he wanted to fight and why life wasn't being fair

👑 The Gods and Humans gasped as Qin laid your head on his lap, he patted your head as the medical staff came running out to you both

👑 When he awoke, he saw you laying on his chest while reading a small book the staff gave you

👑 He looked at you and pat your head, causing you to hug his good hand and try healing his two missing fingers, to which he said;

" I'm surprised you don't hate my guts because of what happened out there! It's quite amazing how calm you are despite the circumstances, kiddo! In fact, would you like to stay here and watch the next few rounds with me? I don't mind! "

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🩸 Jack admired your father, Heracles, for who he was and the color he radiated, so when he felt another similar, yet smaller form running into the arena with a slight amount of fear, he froze

🩸 Humanity stayed silent as your tiny form ran out of the hallway and towards your crumpling father, crying his name

🩸 The killer and the warrior looked back and saw you, and your father chuckled, commenting on how stubborn you were

" Hey hun, don't worry about your old dad, okay? You'll see me again sometime! " " Don't lie to me, daddy! I can't stand it when you lie! "

🩸 Jack stared at you both witch a hint of sadness in his heart, but, he wondered, why did he feel this way? He never had before since he was a child

🩸 Heracles looked at Jack and alerted him with your name, making him look up from you and into your father's blue eyes, which were slowly turning green and breaking apart

" Take care of them for me, yeah? "

🩸 You looked at Jack when your father turned into nothing and sniffed as he stiffened, why would he entrust his child to someone who killed when alive?

🩸 Humanity erupted in protest, stating you should return to your family, in which you held your hands to your ears and ran to grab Jack's leg in fear, and he had to hold himself back from really making you scared

🩸 Whatever reason Heracles had for giving him guardianship of you must have been important, so, what kind of gentleman would dishonor the wish of a fallen warrior?

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🌸 You watched your father get killed in front of you, you had every right to be upset at that human right now

🌸 Sasaki sat in the medical bay healing from your father's trident hits, and when he heard the distant calls of some of the Gods, he sat up in shock

🌸 Especially when his door burst open with a young child standing there, and when you closed it shut, his eyes widened when he really looked at you

🌸 Your outfit loosely resembled Poseidon's, from the tighter top to the charm around your waist and the cloth that fell down your legs

🌸 He looked at you and at the ground in shame, you must have been very upset with him, he had killed your father, but when you said the words that you said next, his heart jumped

" Do not worry, mortal man, I do not hate you for this. Rather, I dislike my father, he should have not engaged in such a puny battle against Humanity. And, I would like to apologize for his words, he wasn't the most pleasant man in Valhalla. "

🌸 Sasaki was officially shell-shocked

🌸 One would normally hate the one who killed their parent, but the way you just maturely confessed your true motive behind visiting him, it made him chuckle to himself

🌸 You were very daring, definitely taking after your father in that way, and the way you held yourself was very similar, making him looked back on the way your father looked up at where Zeus and Hermes laid

🌸 You must've been up there with your cousin and uncle watching

🌸 Sasaki smiled and offered you a seat by him, along with a drink, in which, after a long while of talking about his battle tactics, you asked him to adopt you, claiming your uncles, besides Hades, weirded you out

🌸 He chuckled at your bold question and nodded, stating;

" I would love to take you in as my own, dear heir of the sea. And while I'm not sure your family will be happy with this development, if you are alright with it, you may call me your father. "

[nocturnesmoon]

Safety Nets

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader Wordcount: 6k Tags: Polyamory, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, a LOT of comfort, the guys take care of you, that's the fic CW/TW: Military inaccuracies? canon typical violence, insecurities, heavy self doubt and self blame, minor character death, A/N: This is probably inaccurate mission and military wise but idc i wanted to write something like this for so long- though i am open to constructive criticism if you got some notes. (Read on Ao3)

-You come back from a mission that shook you to your core, the boys help you back on your feet as they always do-

The wind raged like a storm in your ears, despite the heavy earmuffs which sat too tight on your head, you could hear it clearly. When you closed your eyes, you could imagine it being a hurricane, a wind so strong it would scoop you up and carry you to who knows where. One that would tear you apart and leave no remnants of who you were.

The thought seemed nice, to be taken away and to never return. To be freed from not having to face your own failures in the disappointed stares, that awaited down on the rapidly approaching platform. Your body rocked with every little swerve of the helicopter, no longer having the strength to go against the motion.

"Lieutenant?" Your head snapped up to the soldier in front of you. You ignored the crack in your neck and the ache that pooled into your muscles. He'd been calling on you a few times now, his concerned eyes searching your face for an answer. "We're about to land sir," the soldier let you know, you couldn't muster up a verbal response, only a nod to acknowledge you'd heard.

Ever since they had picked you up on the site, they had that look of pity. It made you squirm, feeling all too self-aware of the way your clothes were caked in mud and blood. Your bones hurt, and your joints felt like snapping in half. You had spent the majority of the mission running, believing that you wouldn't make it out. You had fled, and you had left them behind.

The size of the heli was too big for just you, the soldier, and the pilot in the front. The space felt like caging you in, reminding you of your failure, of who you had lost. Your eyes threatened to shut, the exhaustion whispering in your ear that it would all feel a little better if you let yourself drift away into sleep.

Except every time your eyes slipped closed it wasn't darkness you saw, it was their screams, their blood, and their gore. The cracks you heard when one of the bullets pierced someone's skull echoed in your ears, as if you were still down there on the battlefield.

You were pulled back into your own head, your mind running laps to go through the mission once more. Every single second accounted for so you could dissect your failure. How each one of them had fallen, one by one they dropped like they were nothing. How you had ran with what was left of your team, until one got caught in a bear trap and pulled under falling debris, and the other was shot in the stomach.

You had hoped your head would fill with fog, that it would help you forget and suppress the last few moments of that soldier’s life. His name had been Jacob, his callsign Wisp, he had been difficult to deal with but his progress under your guidance had been noticeable. You hated how it was only now you could remember every little thing about him. Before you didn't care, you did your job in training him, guiding him, but you never made an effort to know him. You wished your brain would stop remembering every little thing now, making you feel all the more guilty.

You wished your brain would do that thing it's supposed to do, block out the traumatic memories so you didn't have to deal with them. Yet they were there still so fresh in your mind, like an open wound, his last words repeated over and over in your mind. You'd think someone's last words would be scared, or sentimental or a sweet last wish. Not his, no he decided his last wish was to let you know just how much you had failed them all.

Over and over again you replayed that memory, how his blood had mixed with the dirt and gravel under you both. You remember how his hand had clutched onto your arm, digging his nails through your sleeve and into your skin. He had pulled you down with him in his final moments, uttered those words into your ear with so much disdain the tone would have rocked your core on its own.

"This is your fault, you led us here."

There was more to his words, you were sure there was but maybe your brain was doing part of its job now. You could only cling to every part of the memory you could before it slipped away into the fog. It was only when someone gently nudged you that you snapped out of your own mind once more. "Sir?" your body went rigid at the touch and the voice, and you fought the distinct urge to disarm the person that was in front of you.

It was the same soldier that had been with you ever since they found you. He had been careful around you ever since he saw the casualties, walking on eggshells around you as if you were a loose cannon, maybe you were. "Sir?" he repeated, being a little more patient now that he had your attention, "We're here."

You felt your stomach drop, nodding slowly and glancing towards the opening doors, the platform outside. You could already glimpse at the two people that were waiting for you, they had probably been on edge for days. It only made you more guilty how you must have worried them, ever since your call for immediate evac. You weren't even sure you could reassure them once you got down there, you weren't sure you wouldn't just collapse to your knees the moment you were within their vicinity.

"Do you need help Lieutenant?" the soldier in front of you hadn't moved, it surprised you slightly, having been sure he would be just as eager to get off and way from your stench of death. For a moment you want to say yes, tell them to get someone to carry you, because your knees would give out the moment you went to stand, but how would that look for you. A new promising Lieutenant, the first op you led after you got your new rank and it turned out like this.

You didn't dare look up at the soldier, too afraid that your own eyes would give you away. You considered for a moment, to tell the soldier to go get the only two people who would know what to do. The only two people you would trust enough to become vulnerable with. "No..." your voice barely comes through, but he seems to register it, his legs moving quickly to get down on the platform. It was time to face them.

It had been a long few days ever since you said goodbye to the two of them. 72 hours since you had left on the plane with the promise of being back sometime the next day. 24 since Johnny had started complaining about your absence. 6 since Simon had been alerted of the fact you had called for immediate evac, that the supposedly simple mission had gone wrong in every way possible.

He hadn't relayed all the grueling details to Johnny, just that the op had gone wrong and that you might come back a little rattled. Simon wasn't entirely sure what had gone wrong either, he just knew there was casualties, and the team wasn't coming back in one piece. The scot next to him was restless, practically jumping in place from anxiety, watching intently as the heli descended and the doors opened.

Simon kept one step in front of him, knowing the man all too well, and even though his eagerness is shared within Simon's own veins, he knows that you might not be in a state that could positively receive that. He knew the both of you inside and out, the years he had spent with both you and  Johnny allowed him to know you in ways he didn't think possible.

He was quick to find out exactly what made you both tick, what set you off, what made you happy and what would comfort you. He didn't like the uncertainty; it was a rocky start when he was still mapping out your emotions. By now you all knew each other well, like three puzzle pieces that fit together, you had found each other and filled out the holes in each other’s lives. Certainty was assured when he was with either of you because you both knew he needed it.

This was new, this was an uncertainty he didn't like. He had no idea what you would be like when you came down to the platform, down into their arms once again. Not to mention the fact you and nobody else had come out yet only churned that unsettling anxiety in his stomach further.

"L.T?" the sound of Johnny's accent filled his ears, his shoulders managing to relax just a little. He wasn't alone in this, he reminded himself, Johnny would be here to figure out how to help you as well. Johnny's pinky curled around Simon's, his urge to pull them both away from the public area would have overpowered if it wasn't for the fact, they were waiting for you.

The pilot had gotten out almost as soon as they landed, but you were still nowhere. He could just peak inside, trying to look for you or anyone else he would recognize. He only caught a glimpse of your form, hidden behind another soldier who was speaking to you. "What's taking 'em so long," Simon mumbled quietly, his mask obscuring his already quiet speech.

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, the hold his pinky finger had was surprisingly strong. They shared the anxiousness, the uncomfortable knowledge that you weren't okay. "Ah dinnae ken" he answered, trying to angle himself so he could get a better look at you. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot he could see at the distance.

They waited, as patiently as they could, the inconspicuous grip they had on each other also served to hold themselves back. Their resolve was wearing thin, and they both knew it, that soldier was talking to you about something, something they didn't know about, and they didn't like it. Simon almost completely lost it when he saw the soldier emerge without you, but his attention was quickly turned when you appeared not long after.

Your walk was slow, in no hurry to get back to them, it should've been the first sign. You looked around as if you were confused, as if you hadn't walked down this path a hundred times before. Johnny wasted no time bolting forward, closing in on you with the clear goal that you were his target. It startled you and Simon almost wanted to berate Johnny in that moment for being so quick with his movements.

Though what Simon saw almost made him want to have a little more time to prepare. The look in your eye rattled something foreign in his bones. It was something familiar, something he had seen in himself once upon a time. Something terrifying he'd never have wished upon you, how it felt when his bare soul had been chipped away at. He looked behind you, expecting some other members of your team to perhaps clue them in on the horror that had occurred.

The hit felt even harder when he realized, you were the only one.

By the time they had gotten you inside and settled in the tub you were a little more present. Your awareness a little higher from when they were on the platform. You had barely spoken a word to them, so vary of threats on every corner that you didn't even let your guard down for them as you usually did.

Only when they had managed to drag you inside, convinced you that your report could wait for later, and gotten you safely inside the space of your own quarters, did you settle. Johnny had carefully helped you out of your clothes, taking the task of cleaning you up and settling you into the safe atmosphere that was them.

He had whispered soft praise in your ears as he removed layer after layer, meanwhile suppressing the want to berate you for each little wound he found on your body. He knew you didn't need the extra scolding, the pure shock from the mission would be enough for you. However, he still felt that sting of hurt in his heart, knowing that neither he nor Simon was there to look after you, to take care of you.

He was well aware that you were capable on your own, you wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't good at what you did. If your rank wasn't enough to go from, then your other various accomplishments on your resume was. But when he saw you like this, with the silent knowledge that you could've been wiped out along with the rest, it put a dark cloud over his mind.

He helped you slowly lower yourself into the bath Simon had previously prepared. You winced in pain when the warm water touched your wounds. None of them were severe enough to cause major worry, but that didn't mean they didn't hurt just as much. Your movements were sloggy, relying on Johnny to not lose yourself completely.

"There ye are," Johnny mumbled quietly, forcing a soft smile on his lips in hopes you soothing you. You let out a shuddering sigh, doing your best to relax into the warm water. You pulled your legs close to your chest, resting your tin atop your bruised knees. "Oh leannan," he gently presses his lips to your temple, cradling your head in an attempt for comfort.

It feels like you're not fully present, watching the world from a third person view that doesn’t exist. You have half of your comfort with you, his hands grabbing the washcloth and slowly moving it over your skin. You look around the small bathroom, trying to locate the other half of your comfort, the missing equation.

"Si..." You're taken aback on your own voice, the croak and soreness of it all leaving you wondering whether you had yelled or screamed more than you thought. You tried to think back on it, settling your mind into the mission again but it made a headache form.

Johnny's motion came to a slow stop, his eyes catching your pleading ones. He knew what you wanted, but he wasn't the one that could give it to you. "He's comin' soon," he does his best at keeping your calm, "S'ok jus' relax." His free hand finds your cheek, making you focus your vision on him.

You lean into it, your body trembling slightly beneath his touch. It was warm and safe, two things you hadn't felt ever since you left. He moved the washcloth over your face, rubbing at the dirt that had infested itself on your skin. His eyes never left your face, his attention and devotion completely yours. His eyes fell on your trembling lips, before quickly flickering upwards to see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

"S'ok love, yer okay" He lets the washcloth rest on the edge of the tub so he could take your face in both hands. His forehead leans against yours, bringing you close and gently coaxing you into more contact. "Just breathe with me aye, he'll be back in no time" your eyes fluttered closed, listening to his instructions, glad that you were able to let go of the part of your brain that needed to make decisions.

Fortunately, he was right, as he often is.

Heavy footsteps could be heard and then the creak of the door, it made you snap your eyes open, their searching beginning once more. They landed on the tall brute, Simon's eyes fixated on you since the moment he made his way into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the tub, planting himself on the toilet seat right next to it.

He was still wearing his mask, tired eyes searching your body and gliding over the wounds in your traumatized state. He lets out a deep sigh, reaching his hand up to his mask and slowly sliding it off. You had seen his face so many times, by now it shouldn't affect you anymore, yet still you can't help that feeling you get when you see him shed the mask in front of you and Johnny. The trust he has in the two of you makes your heart flutter.

The look he's giving you almost makes you feel ashamed, even though you know that he's just concerned. He's always been, that's why he's so harsh on you, on Johnny, even on occasion Garrick. You're pretty sure the only reason he isn't like that on Price as well is because of his higher rank and better experience. He's trained you hard so you could overcome anything, but no amount of training could prepare you for this kind of thing.

Johnny leans back, allowing Simon more space to move closer. You move before he does, leaning your body slightly to the side. The sound of splashing water went deaf on your ears, even as Johnny yelped from some of the water going overboard. Your chin ended up nestled atop Simon's thigh, his eyes never leaving you as you moved. His hand coming down to rest on the back of your head.

"How we doin' pet?" his voice of gravel is like a blanket for your soul, the years of smoking giving him a voice that makes you shiver. In truth you don't feel like speaking, you don't feel like answering at all. You know you have to; you can't hide forever but you still hope they won't inquire about the mission just yet.

You let out a huff, almost hoping that the answer would suffice for Simon, but he keeps looking at you with those expectant eyes. "I don't know," you whisper quietly, letting your eyes fall, your body going slack against the side of the tub.

Simon nods in response, a hum of understanding going out to you. "S'fine, you don't have to know right now," he tells you, giving you the peace of mind to just have a non-conditional existence between them.

Johnny picks up the washcloth again, guiding your arms in his direction so he could continue his work of getting you clean. They're both quick and efficient with cleaning you up, Simon's rough voice filling the room as he updates you on things that's happened since you were gone. It's not much, mostly trivial things you don't care about and will likely forget, but it keeps your calm, giving you something else to focus on.

"Ye should've seen Cap he was livid," Johnny's laughs and you muster a smile, hearing about his latest misadventures, and the dumb thing's he'd rode Gaz into. His hands run over your scalp, working in the shampoo and grimacing when he takes out a small clump of dirt. "Aye darling, how the hell did ye get so caked in mud anyway," he sighs, parting your strands to get to the nape of your neck.

You bend your head down to allow him to work through your hair without straining his arms. "I..." you do your best to think back, but the number of times you fell down and scraped against things were a blur. "I think i tripped a lot...it was a muddy area," You held back a pleasured groan, as Johnny worked his fingers over your scalp, small goosebumps going down your back and arms.

"I don't really remember," you admit and let out an exasperated sigh. Johnny finishes up your hair, going for a little longer than necessary in hopes of keeping your enjoyment going awhile longer. When he pulls back to reach for the shower head, he boops your nose, leaving some soap on your face. His mischievous grin is infectious, and it manages to tug the corners of your lips upwards. The way his eyes light up when he sees your half smile makes your heart hurt, you've worried them so much, you're still worrying them.

As soon as they got you out of the water you were clinging to them like a leech. Refusing to let go of the precious contact you've already established with them. They move you around between them, molding you to them as they do the teamwork of getting you dry. Simon peppers soft kisses to your lips and cheeks while Johnny moves the towel over your back.

Even after they're done getting you as dry as they can, they keep you there. Sandwiched between them they hold you tight, and in tune each other. Johnny's head nestled in the crook of your neck and Simon's chin resting on top of your head. It's a stance that squeezes you tight, your own head getting light from the amount of love they try to squeeze into your bones.

It makes your heart burn, and your eyes sting with tears. Your breathing coming out in small gasps, as you end up choking back on a sob. Every single little thing coming crashing down on you now that you know you're safe in their arms. They've always got you, ready to catch you in case you fall. That hasn't changed, and being so subtly reminded by them brings it all out.

"Breathe," you aren't sure who says it, the disorienting feeling not alleviating even as they accommodate you. "Good Good," you recognize Simon's praising voice when you manage to take a few deep breaths. The tears never manage to fall but you don't doubt that they both know just by looking at your pathetic state.

"Love, we need to treat your wounds," he starts off quietly, not having any haste to move you, "Johnny'll go get you some food, and then we can get you settled into bed, okay?" He's making it sound more like a question, but you know it's just to make you aware of their next movements.

Even so you can't help but cling to Johnny's presence as he starts to unattach himself from the cuddle. You look up at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would stay if you just used puppy eyes enough. You almost think he'll budge as he moves closer to you again, his lips descending onto yours for a chaste kiss. Reluctantly he pulls away again, "Be back soon, ah promise ye."

Before you can protest and force him to stay, Simon scoops you up and places you on the bathroom counter. Distracting you from Johnny's quest of finding food that will be easily digested. He holds your face in his hand to keep your eyes on him, while the other one rummage through a cabinet.

You had gotten extremely lucky all things considered, the worst of your injuries the long scrapes on your back from sliding down a hill with sharp rocks. The rest included rough bruises, sore joints, and jumbled mind. Your other teammates had been much less fortunate, led right into their death by your own incompetence.

You're softly called back to reality, Simon gently rubbing his thumb over your cheek and calling your name. You don't know how long you were zoned out, but it was long enough to give him that worried glint in his eye. "Sorry..." you croak, swallowing thickly to hold it all back but this time it's not as easy.

The tears come slow and quiet, the shake in your body forcing them out of your waterline and down your cheekbones. He gently wipes them away, pulling you in closer to his body again and cradling you against his chest. "You survived," he reminds you, "You're still here."

You want to nod along with him and take in his words to keep close. But you don't know if you agree with him, you survived but should you have? Why did you survive and not Jacob, not any of the other soldiers who trusted you to see it through.

Simon placed a soft kiss to the top of your head and then leaned over you to get a look at your back. He gave no reaction to whatever he saw as to not make you panic, though from the bleeding warmth in your back told you it probably wasn't looking the best.

"Lean back for me pet," he instructs you, slowly plucking you from his chest. With a reluctant sigh you lean back and look down at yourself. Your eyes trailing over every little bruise that littered your body. Simon was silent as he took care of you, giving you gentle squeezes over small kisses after every little wince you made.

When he was done treating the visible wounds, you could hear Johnny rustling around outside the bathroom. The only thing left was your back, the one you dreaded the most out of all your wounds. Simon leaned back just as Johnny came back into the room, a set of your clothes hanging over his arm. He places it on the counter and picks through it, handing you a fresh set of underwear, sweats, and t-shirt.

"Wait with the shirt, need to check over your back," Simon reaches over for the underwear and sweats, helping you into it and lowering you back to the floor. You stretch out your limbs, groaning as you feel the exhaustion in your body, your joints popping when you stretch your arms above your head.

Johnny takes your hand in his own, smiling at you and leading you into the bedroom. "Ah found ye some soup, there wasn't a lot to choose from at this hour," he told you as you crawl onto the bed. You glance at the nightstand, the soup bowl steaming and looking good enough to make your mouth water. The little chocolate bar next to it makes you smile, just until Simon guides you to lay on your stomach.

The real pain is about to start, you think. His hands smoothe over your back, avoiding the ridges of your wounds and grabbing the salve. "It'll be quick, am sure" Johnny lowers himself onto the bed next to you, mimicking your way of laying. His head right next to yours, his loving eyes staring into your own and the giddy smile he wore made you huff out the air in your lungs.

"Hi"

"Hi"

His hand reaches out and caresses your cheek, gently running his fingers over your scalp. He does his best at distracting you from the pain in your back. "How ye feelin'?" he asks quietly, his thumb running over your cheek and fixating on your lip.

"Like shit," you scoff and turn your face into the mattress. You feel Simon's hand run over your back, the aching pain making you whine into the sheets. His hands hesitate, smoothing over unscarred skin as an apology before going back to his work.

The work on your wounds is tedious, and when he finally pulls away your eyelashes are wet. The clutch you have on the sheets beneath you is starting to hurt your knuckles. Simon's touch leaves you, but you don't take any action to turn or move. Someone else guides you to move, the difference in touch leading you to believe it's Johnny.

He moves you closer to him, slowly turning you up so you're sitting and leaning against him. He gently helps you into a t-shirt before moving you around like a ragdoll once more. You're settled between his legs, your back to his front and his big forearms wrapped around your waist. He buries his head in your neck, squeezing you and inhaling your scent as if it's the only thing he ever needs.

"C'mon, you need'ta eat," the bed dips as Simon gets back on it, this time having the bowl of soup in hand. He settles in front of you both, reaching forward and gently rubbing your calf. "And we need to talk," he knows you don't want to, that you'd rather bury it deep. Unfortunately for you, he also knows where that will lead you, and the sooner you put it into words for them the easier you'll be able to process it.

You take the bowl from him, agreeing to at least eat something. You couldn't remember when you last had gotten something nutritional, your stomach felt like a gaping hole that was trying to eat itself. You brought the spoon to your lips and savored the taste. Despite the limited options Johnny had still managed to get the things you liked.

"Don't wanna talk," you mumble between your bites, trying to ignore the look Simon is giving you by staring into your swirling soup. "There's nothin' to talk about," You swallow thickly, ever since you had been back you had been fighting the thoughts that urged to trap you. They were just waiting for you to trip in your careful state, they would pull you under the bridge, drown you into the water until you couldn't breathe through your panic.

Simon didn't let go of your leg, rubbing slow soothing circles into your calf. His full attention was on you, and there was nowhere to hide from the man in front of you and the man behind you. Johnny placed a soft kiss to your neck, and mumbled into your skin, "We know ye don' wanna, Leannan, but when ye came back ye were like a Ghost."

When you didn't answer they elected to let you eat in silence for a while longer, unaware to the emotional storm inside your body. You knew that you would have to make that report eventually, that they would hear about the details eventually. But actually, being met with the demand was something else entirely.

You didn't know if you could bear their reactions, the thought of them being disappointed in you made the anxiety roar. You didn't want them to realize that all the time they had spent being proud of you for your achievement had been wasted. That you were nothing of what you promised to be.

You only realized how shaky your hands had become again when you raised the spoon to take another bite. Simon let out a soft sigh, before taking the spoon and bowl from you so you didn't spill on yourself or Johnny. "Darling?" the question was laid bare for you, he gave you the opening to start talking, to confide in them like you always did.

Your hands fall to your lap, right along with your sight. You try to calm your own nerves, trying to rationalize the stirring thoughts in your head. After an elaborate breath, that is more like an exhausted sigh, you find your words. "It was supposed to be a simple op, and it was in the start, find the target and neutralize him," you start quietly, grasping your own hands together.

"But once we were there and set up, nothing went as planned," you lightly shake your head along to your words, "They knew we were coming and hunted us like dogs." You swallow thickly, noting how the shakiness had nestled into your voice. "I tried to reroute our objective; we tried getting out of there, but this was unlike anything I had ever been up against."

Johnny's hand came to encapsulate your own, stilling your shakiness and you freeze up. Feeling all to self-aware all of a sudden, how the attention was on you, as they listened like you were the most important thing in the world. It was both a warm and agonizing feeling, their protectiveness was nice, but it was also scary.

"We were so close to getting out but...they were faster and I...I couldn't..." you choked back on your own voice, feeling the hotness burn on the back of your eyes. "They were better..." you admitted in a whisper, "If I had taken a different route maybe we could have avoided the trap, maybe we could have gotten the drop on them before they got to my team but...."

The feeling of Simon's hand cupping your cheek made you halt, teary eyes meeting his in temporary shock. "It wasn't your fault love," the sincerity in his voice rocks something deep in you, "There was no way anyone could've known." You tilt your head to the side slightly, you wanted to argue, to tell him you could've done a thousand things better.

"Aye, ye acted just how ye were supposed to, ye kept a level head and guided the rest to the best of yer ability," Johnny briefly took over. His voice was hot on your ear, his quiet whispers just as reassuring as the hand on your cheek, "Ye did everything ye could, and ye survived because of it."

"But they didn't..." You sank further into Johnny, sniffling as you held his thumb inside the little cocoon, he made of both of your hands. "They died because of me," you try to argue, despite being grateful that they didn't seem mad you almost wanted them to lash out, to give you right, to let you feel like a monster.

"They didn't die because of you, they died in action, trying to complete the mission they were given," Simon's voice turned a tad harsh, the determination to get through to you all the more prominent. "They knew this was a possibility when they signed up, you did everything you could for them, and the way you make it up to them is to keep going," he told you sternly.

"I know what it's like, to have people fall under your command," he sighs, "S'never not tough, and it's all too easy to fall into the spiral of whose fault it was." You paid close attention to him as he spoke, he always had a captivating way of speaking, just like when he dished out orders, he commanded authority in his mere presence. "It's somethin’ that happens love, it's important to mourn and assess," he looks you directly in the eye, "But it's also important that you know, it makes you neither monster nor failure."

You never knew whether to love or hate the way he could read your brain like had he telepathy, or personal access to your every little fear and sorrow. "It doesn’t make it feel any better," you said quietly, tilting your head into his palm, nuzzling against his skin.

"I know" he puts the half-finished bowl on the nightstand, "Gonna hurt for a while, but we'll be here with you through it." He gave you a half smile, moving closer so he could place a kiss to your forehead. "We're not going anywhere, ain't that right Johnny?" he glances to the man behind you.

"Aye," Johnny's chest rumbles with a hum, his lips placing a trail of loving kisses over your neck. "Not gonna let those nasty thoughts get to ye," he whispers and slowly moves you as Simon directs. Johnny gets you on your side in the bed, your back pressed even further into his chest. Simon gets out of the bed but only for a brief moment. The lights turn off above you, and soon after the bed dips.

You sigh when you feel Simon's skin on your own, his lips find your cheek as he settles in with you and Johnny. His arm supporting both you and Johnny's heads, his other hand coming over you to hold onto the man behind you after moving your hair out of your face. Compressed between them like this always felt like heaven, the pressure they put on your body was grounding and reminded you that you weren't alone.

"Sleep now," Simon's voice rumbled, "We'll be here when you wake up, and we can try again."

They were always here for you, even when you didn't know you needed the extra support. They had worked with you for so long, you had changed a lot with them and for the better. You felt safe with them, no matter how many times you would fall, they would always be there to catch you and get you back on your feet.

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[callmerainman]

NEVER LET ME GO | Adam x fem!angel!Reader

plot. it's official, you're in love with Adam. and it's also official, that you fucking hate him.

word count. 700 - drabble

tags. major character death, grief, angst, loss, mourning, crying, falling in love, established relationship, hurt no comfort, Adam and Reader are in love, beginning heavily inspired by 500 Days of Summer.

I think it’s official. I’m in love with Adam. I love his smile. I love his messy, brown hair. I love the shade of black under his eyes. And I love his golden irises too. I love his mask, and the way he only takes it off in public just to kiss me. I love how he licks his lips while he’s focused on practicing electric guitar. And I love the sound of his whole-hearted laughs, often at his own jokes. I love the way he looks when he’s sleeping, because it’s one of the few times his face is relaxed. I love how he dedicates me songs and serenades them for me with his guitar, even if the lyrics can be vulgar. I love his humor, which is over the top but I can’t help it, he makes me laugh. And I love the way he makes love to me, he’s intense but also occasionally so tender, whispering praises in my ear and telling me how glad he is that for once, he found someone that wouldn’t leave his side. I love how he makes me feel. Like...anything’s possible. Like living in eternity is worth it.

I hate Adam. I hate his shit-eating grin. I hate his scrawny haircut. I hate the bags under his eyes that make him look like an insomniac. And I hate his piss-colored irises too. I hate his stupid mask, and the way he takes it off in public only when he has to kiss me like he thinks he's too special to be seen. I hate the way he wets his lips while he’s focused on playing the electric guitar, it’s unnecessary. I hate his annoying laugh, why laughing at your own jokes if they aren't even funny. I hate the way he sleeps with his mouth open and snores. I hate the stupid songs he dedicates me, the lyrics make no sense. I hate his childish humor, he talks like he just learned curse words. I hate the way he makes love to me, talking to me nicely as if he isn’t a jerk. And I fucking hate the way he’s making me feel. Because I hate the fact that Adam’s not here anymore and that I can’t live an eternity with him.

---

“You’re (Y/N), right?”.

I look up, my lips pressed close together. Lute, Adam’s second in command and best friend, is looking at me. The sound of waves crushing against the shoreline is invasive. The sun is setting on the beach and it glares behind her frame. I unwrap my arms from around my curled legs, and I tuck my wings on my sides.

“Yeah, it’s me” I say, stoic.

My brows are furrowed and my stare is serious. She’s reciprocating with the same, cold look.

“You were Adam’s closest affection, weren’t you?” Lute asks.

I scoff, shrugging my shoulders “I wouldn’t say that”.

Lute looks at me with a deep scowl. Her face morphs in annoyance, she didn’t like that. Without a word, I get up, sprinkles of sand rolling down my thighs and wings. I plant myself in front of her, sustaining her burning eyes.

“You two were together" she says.

“We weren't”

“Stop bullshitting me”

“I barely knew him”

“Adam loved you!” Lute snaps, and I flinch in surprise, my lips slightly falling open “Adam loved you and you loved him”.

She steps closer, she would look menacing if it wasn’t for the evident, deep-rooted pain in her eyes. The same I’m experiencing, and she knows that. She grits her teeth, and unexpectedly shoves something in my chest with her only arm.

“So you better drop the fucking tough girl act” she hisses “and mourn him properly”.

Lute’s furious look lingers on me a little longer. It almost looks pitiful, but I think she’s trying to tell me in every way possible that she’s feeling nothing but the same things as me. Then, she lets go of the hold she had on whatever I’m clutching to my chest now, and walks away without another word. I look down. The moment I realize what I’m holding, my brows shoot upwards.

Adam’s halo. It lost its glow, forever. Now is just a pale imitation of what its holder was before. Then, my knees give up, and I fall on them. Holding the halo close to my chest, I finally let tears invade my eyes and roll down my cheeks as I can’t stop sobbing furiously. I fucking hate Adam. I hate him because I loved him and now he can’t be here anymore.