#i have no choice but to just. deal with it now

[elizzsush]

Future Child | Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None Rating: SFW

Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.

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Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.

“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?

This threat was a real threat!

The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?

How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?

There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.

What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!

Apparently, you had three more places to check out.

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

.

.

.

The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.

Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.

Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!

Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...

"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.

"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.

The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.

You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"

"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.

.

.

.

You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lack of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.

Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.

"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.

"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.

You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.

.

.

.

.

“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...

Nothing.

Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

This felt like something out of a horror movie.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.

You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.

“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.

Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.

Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.

Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.

He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.

His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

__________________________

He was adorable but children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.

He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...

Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.

When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.

“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.

And... That was your lunch.

With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.

Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

That was weird right?

You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.

"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.

Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.

You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.

Scratch that, the kid wondered off.

"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.

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How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?

Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.

Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.

"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.

"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."

"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.

"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.

You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.

"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.

"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?

"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.

"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.

Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”

Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.

“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.

Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.

Um… who’s Malleus?

________________

Day four of having a child.

Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!

Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.

It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.

“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?

“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.

You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.

“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!

.

.

.

Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?

 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 

Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 

They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)

Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 

You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?

“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 

“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 

“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 

“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 

Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 

So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 

Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 

Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 

Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.

“Child Of Man?” 

“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 

“Papa!” 

__________________

“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 

“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 

“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 

“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 

“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.

“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?

“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 

“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 

“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.

“I am Malleus draconia”

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Fun Fact:

The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.

Also, Lilia knew all along.

Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol

NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!

________________________ ________________________

Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme

(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)

[aestherin]

KEEP MY HEART

goal 25: wear mine

NOTES: guys my first year of college is finally officially done !! ^^ update with a bit of narration :>

"Hey Venti," you nudged the one on your right. As the games have ended, the whole stadium has become chaotic with people wanting to go to the field to take photos with the players, while the others scrambling to get to the exit first.

"What?"

"Can you do me a favor just this once please? I'll buy you your choice of wine some other day in return I promise!" At the mention of his one and only vice, Venti's eyes became more alive. "Really, [Name]?! Go ahead and tell me your favor then, hurry!"

"I have to go somewhere else, and I'm sure Kazuha and Xiao would go looking for me immediately once they realize I'm gone," you sighed. "Can you cover up for me?"

Venti's brows furrowed. "What am I gonna tell them though?"

"Just whatever," you whispered impatiently. "As long as it works! I'll keep contact with you later!" You quietly exclaimed as you sneaked off while Xiao and Kazuha were dealing with the fans approaching them.

With your mind set on getting to a specific location as quickly as possible, you failed to pay attention to your surroundings, not noticing that a pair of golden eyes have discreetly followed your trail.

"Ugh. Finally."

You crossed your arms as Scaramouche made his way to welcome you. "Why do we always meet at parking lots?"

"Where else could we meet privately, idiot?" He flicked your forehead lightly. "Do you want to be bombarded by several people?"

"Okay no thanks, Mr. Famous."

"Don't call me that."

You smiled as you looked at him. Although he has already washed himself after the match, severe exhaustion was still visible in his form. His limbs limp, his expression weary — though he's trying desperately to mask it.

Perhaps to look his best in front of you.

"So, how do you feel?"

"Good, of course. We won, didn't we?"

"Idiot. I didn't mean that."

You only sighed at his confused expression. Perhaps, so used to this routine, he already unconsciously ignores his own feelings. There was nothing you could do about that for now.

You mustered a sincere smile, reaching out to pat his hair lightly. The curve of your lips widened even more when he subconsciously bent his head down for you. "You did well."

"Hmp."

As Scaramouche turned his face away from you (definitely not to hide the redness of his face), a gush of cold wind welcomed him, which immediately reminded him of why he called you here in the first place. He opened his car door, seemingly getting something from inside.

"Here."

"Oh?" You grinned as he handed you his gray hoodie. "I thought you were going to give me your varsity jacket," you teased.

"As if I'd give you anything dirty."

KEEP MY HEART — scara x reader smau

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[heavenlyvision]

IT'S GETTING COLD AGAIN

pairing: bi-han/reader

wc: 12.6k

this is part 6 to my 'when hell freezes over' series with bi-han ʚ⁺˖⤷ part one part two part three part four part five

summary: after bi-han says something so incredibly vulnerable you're faced with a choice but how are you meant to reciprocate when you're feeling so confused and how long will he wait for your reply. both action and inaction have consequences.

a/n; it took me a while to get back to my origins but here it is... the boy! for those who were patient during the wait -- thank you very much! i appreciate you all heaps and i hope it was – at the very least – semi-worth the wait <3 (i'm a little unsure about this one so if it's not good i'm really sorry) ૮꒰ o̴̶̷᷄᎔o̴̶̷̥᷅ ꒱ა

warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst, reader cries, comfort(?), swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, denied orgasms/edging, overstimulation, creampie, mean!bi-han, f!reader, use of she/her pronouns, no y/n used

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

That night, he doesn’t go to your room and you’re too scared to go to his. you hadn’t been able to say anything in reply, you stood there, dumb and scared. You’re not used to being cared for and you weren’t expecting such an admission from him… not now.

But the longer you stared, the colder his expression grew, it’s like you could see in real time how he was putting his walls back into place, disappointed in your lack of reciprocation but too guarded to confront you about it, he wanted to move on and pretend he hadn’t just said that, pretend he hadn’t just ruined everything…. but he hadn’t ruined anything, you had.

In that moment, you didn’t know if the way you felt was anxiety or excitement, it’s still not clear to you now. It’s been a week since that night in the kitchen and he hasn’t approached you. It hurts but you know you’re the one who’s meant to approach him… you’re scared and the longer you leave it, the more scared you get.

You feel like you’ve left it too long but you don’t want to go to him without having something concrete to offer. Telling him you’re confused feels unfair, you want to be able to tell him exactly how you feel.

Training is difficult, you’re trying so hard to focus but it’s not working and you keep getting your ass thrown on the floor. For the fourth time in a row, Kenshi trips you up and has you on the floor below him, he looks down at you and quirks a brow, “You feeling okay?”

Sighing you take the hand he offers you and let him pull you up, “Yes?”

“You don’t sound certain,” he’s a little amused by your unsure tone.

You groan a bit, disgruntled, “I’m distracted.”

“I’ve noticed,” he tilts his head at you, waiting for you to offer him an answer as to why.

“Don’t worry about it, let’s go again,” you move back into a defensive stance, getting ready for him to come at you first.

He crosses his arms over his chest, not moving, “You have lost the past four rounds and you want to keep going? Isn’t your ass bruised enough?”

“Don’t get cocky just cause I’m off my game,” you glower at him.

He scoffs a bit at that, “You’re not just ‘off your game’, you’re not even in the game right now.”

The words make your stance falter, “Okay…ouch.”

His expression is sheepish, a little sorry for being so harsh, “If I drop you again you have to tell me what’s wrong.”

You perk back up, “Easy, I won’t be dropped again.”

…You’re dropped again. It’s a little embarrassing how easily he manages to get you back onto your ass, he was right… you’re not in the game today. You shouldn’t have made that deal… how are you meant to tell him about what Bi-Han said and what you didn’t say.

Kenshi offers his hand to help you up again and as you take it, you feel Bi-Han’s eyes on you. You falter in getting up, resulting in Kenshi using more force to pull you up, you bump into him slightly.

His hands move to either side of your shoulders and pull you back, “Woah, you good?”

Bi-Han’s eyes on you feel weighted, “Hmm? Yeah, sorry…” You take a step away from him, out of his reach.

You’re fighting the urge to look for Bi-Han, too anxious to meet his eyes. Turning your head in the opposite direction, you wait for the feeling of him watching you to stop. When he walks away, you can feel yourself physically relax and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Ah,” Kenshi speaks after having watched the scene unfold in front of him, “I see what has happened now.”

“Nothing happened,” you insist, not wanting to talk about this with anyone, there isn’t anyone you feel like you could talk to regarding this.

“I’m not an idiot,” he rolls his eyes lightly. “We had a deal… you gonna talk to me?”

You huff, “It’s fine, honestly.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have been absent all week,” he argues.

Feeling awkward, you try to keep denying, “I’ve not been that bad…”

He gives you a straight on look, one that says ‘yes, yes you have been that bad’.

You give in, “He said something, I didn’t… and now I feel confused and bad…”

“Do you have something you want to say to him?” He asks, simply.

Tipping your head to the side for a moment, you answer, “I have plenty of things I want to say but I’m not sure about anything and I feel like going to him with anything other than certainty in the words I say is a disservice to him…”

He thinks on your words, “I understand your line of thinking… but don’t you think leaving him in the dark and ignoring him is an even bigger disservice?”

Exasperated, you pose, “What good is talking to him when I have nothing of significance to say?”

“What good is ignoring him?” He shuffles his feet and rolls his head, “Listen, I’m gonna be blunt for a second–”

“–Aren’t you always?”

“Hush,” he squints at you in disapproval but continues on, “Are you ignoring him for his sake or for yours? What I mean to say is… is talking to him harder for him or for you. Because personally, I think you’re scared of what the possible consequences of whatever you say might be. If you cared so much about how he was feeling, you wouldn’t be making him wait a week to hear from you.”

You pout and mumble, “He could also approach me…”

“He said something and you didn’t, isn’t it your turn to talk?” He shrugs.

It’s annoying that you told him so little but he’s inferred a lot from it… you don’t know if he’s completely correct but you know he’s not all wrong. Part of you knew that ignoring Bi-Han wasn’t fair to him but you don’t think you’re wrong about not being able to answer him properly being unfair either.

It comes down to what is less fair right now and annoyingly, Kenshi is right, in that it’s less fair to be ignoring him after he was so vulnerable. You’re just worried you might have waited too long and now he won’t be able to give himself that piece of you that he was willing to a week ago. Though… that’s probably the consequence you’ve been so scared of.

“I can see I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Kenshi’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You make eye contact with him, “I don’t know what you mean, we never spoke about this and even if we did… everything you said was so far off base that I couldn’t relate it to anything that has happened to me even if I wanted to…”

He barks a small laugh at your statement, “Alright, I get the message, we never spoke about this, I didn’t hear anything, in fact… I’m not even sure I know you.”

You smile softly, “Thank you, Kenshi.”

He gives you a puzzled look, “I’m sorry? Do I know you?”

You laugh at that, “Come on grandpa, it’s just after midday, nearly dinner time for you.”

“Har har,” he begins walking away from you at your bad joke and you have to jog to keep up with him.

❆˖°

It’s hard to think, it isn’t normally, at least not when you’re here but you have too many thoughts to sort through for the venue to have any impact on them. The rock is as it always is, it’s cold but the view is pretty and the air is clean, nature is humming and the earth is still, and in spite of all these things, in spite of how much comfort the elements grace you with, you are frustrated to the bone.

Are you still in a relationship? You’ve not spoken in over a week now… it’s not even like you’re fighting, you just aren’t talking. The regret you feel is digging straight down into your core and settling deep, you miss him so much, does he miss you?

All at once, you’re too aware of how you’re sabotaging yourself, it’s not that you’re uncertain about how you feel… you know very well how you feel. You’re just not as brave as Bi-Han, because instead of saying aloud how you feel, you fell silent. Is it too late to tell him you’re scared too? That you’re falling for him too?

Gods, you’ve messed everything up, he was so open with you, it was a moment that by all means called for that kind of vulnerability and you dropped it all. Remembering his face hurts more than anything, if he’s blaming himself even a little bit for your mistake, for your inaction, you’re going to jump off a cliff.

Against your will, your eyes well with tears, you try to hold them back but ultimately fail. You decide to let yourself have this quiet moment to cry, folding in on yourself, tucking your head into your knees and wrapping your arms around yourself. You can’t even pretend to ask how it all got this way; you know how it got to be this way; it was by your own hand.

The pair of you had parted that night, going different directions, few words spoken other than goodnights. The last thing you had said to him before you left for your room had been another thank you for dinner, too casual for the words he had spoken.

You need to stop crying, it’s self-pitying at this point, you have literally no one else to blame but yourself. You need to get over this inability to be cared for.

“I’d ask if you were okay but I can clearly see that is not the case,” Liu Kang’s voice from behind shocks you. Hastily, you wipe at your eyes as he comes into your view, “You missed dinner… again.”

You sniffle, “Ah, I didn’t realise, sorry…”

He ignores your lie, he knows you’ve been avoiding group dinners, “He’s worried you know.”

Doubting Liu Kang’s knowledge on this, you ask, “Did he tell you that?”

“He did not have to, it’s quite obvious,” His tone is calm, like it always is.

All you can manage to say is, “I messed up…”

“Can you not fix it?” He hums in thought.

Your hands smooth over your knees, “I don’t think so.”

He immediately follows up with, “Have you tried?”

The question makes you feel embarrassed because, “…No, I haven’t.”

“Then how do you know?” You must look pitiful when you look up at him, eyes wet and round from crying. He places a hand atop your head in a soothing way, it’s warm, “Try.”

Voice breaking, you ask, “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“You live with the consequences,” He says it easily, like that wouldn’t be the hardest thing to do.

Hesitating, you add, “I don’t know if I can… Liu, I’m scared…”

“Be scared,” he smiles at you, “And do it anyways.”

“It can’t be as easy as you’re making it sound,” you slump down slightly.

His hand moves to your back, “I did not say it would be easy, I said talk to him… even if it is scary and hard.”

You face away from him, feeling emotional, “You’re annoying.”

He doesn’t take your words to heart, “Only because I am right and you know it,” he removes his hand from you and sits beside you on the rock.

Turning back to him, you rest your head on your knees again, “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You may ask,” he answers, making it clear if he doesn’t like the question he won’t answer.

Watching carefully, you ask him, “Have you ever been in love?”

He looks down, his mind drifting, “I have been, a long time ago now…”

“Was it scary?” You feel small and silly.

“Anything new or grand is scary,” he looks to you, “But it was worth it and I’d do it again.”

You feel compelled to ask for details, “What happened?”

“Far too much, too long ago,” he dismisses.

Wanting more, you press, “Did you get a happy ending?”

“In a way,” he looks solemn but you believe him.

Instead of asking for details, you ask something cliche, “How did you know you were in love? …Did you know you were in love… or did you just think you were?”

“Are they not essentially the same thing?” He looks up and sighs, “Only you will know, it’s not something to be described and it’s different for everyone. There is no one way to love.” He looks at you carefully, “If you are asking me because you think I have some hidden knowledge others don’t, I am sorry to let you down but I think my answer is pretty close to what most people would say.”

“You didn’t let me down… I think you’ve helped me sort some things internally,” you offer him a genuine smile, it’s small but it’s real. Tipping sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder, “Thank you for indulging me.”

He looks up to the stars, “Anytime.”

You think you may have unintentionally gotten him to open up about something he’s not spoken on in a long time and you’re grateful that he did just to answer your silly questions. You wonder if him being able to talk about it helped at all, at the very least, you hope whatever he remembered tonight didn’t hurt too much.

❆˖°

You’ve been given a lot to think about, today has been incredibly overwhelming, the whole week has been but today more so. Both Kenshi and Liu Kang have given you their advice and they both essentially said the same thing, it’s the kind of advice you’d give to anyone in your position – talk to him.

It’s getting late but you leave your room to sneak to the kitchen, just because you haven’t been going to group dinners doesn’t mean you haven’t been eating. You’ve made a habit of lurking in the kitchen after hours to eat whatever you can find; you think Liu noticed pretty early on what you were doing because you’ll frequently find a bowl of whatever they had that night left for you.

The air is cold and you feel stupid, carefully wandering the grounds in your pyjamas and a robe, getting caught wouldn’t really be all that bad, you’d just look like an idiot. The kitchen is warmer though and the indoors welcome you inside, you immediately start looking for something to eat, accidentally knocking into some utensils, the clanging sound startling you, your hands frantically reach out to stop the awful noise.

Bi-Han’s deep voice fills your ears, “Well, at least I know you have been eating.”

It’s late but the chill runs down your spine, you were too busy with the noise you made to notice his presence behind you. You’re stock still, wondering how you’re meant to react, should you apologise now? Should you pretend it’s fine? Like you have no idea what he’s talking about? You feel nervous, heart hammering in your chest, you don’t even know if you can bring yourself to look at him. After everything you feel ashamed, how could you meet his eyes–

He's tired as he sighs out, “Look at me.”

Your eyes stay on the utensils you just ran into, hands limp at you sides, “Uhm… I can’t…”

“Can’t or won’t?” You can hear his frustration growing.

How are you meant to answer that? Pausing awkwardly, you eventually say, “Either? Both?”

He grumbles your name lowly… unhappy with your answer, he moves closer to you, body just to the side of you. You always thought you’d be the kind of person to fight or flee when confronted but instead you’re completely frozen… He’s so close to you, close enough to touch, you’ve missed him so much and now he’s within arm’s reach and you don’t feel like you have the right to touch him.

Before you lose your nerve and all ability to think, you force out, “You’re too close… I can’t… think.”

You wonder what kind of expression he made when you said that, you didn’t mean for it to be unkind. He doesn’t complain though, he silently takes a step away from you. It’s unclear to you if he has nothing to say or if he’s patiently waiting for you to speak first, if you were a gambling man, you’d bet on the latter. Despite his outward behaviours, he usually has something to say.

This is harder than you thought, you haven’t had a chance to think about what exactly you want to say to him. You know you wanted to talk to him the next time you saw him, you just didn’t know it would be so soon. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

He scoffs slightly, “Who’s avoiding whom?”

You thought he had been avoiding you as well but maybe he was giving you space, “What did you come here for?”

He avoids your question with his own, “What else would I come here for, other than you?”

“Bi-Han…”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me… In your own time but I’m not a patient man and this is getting annoying.” He hesitates before continuing, “If you don’t feel the same way… then forget I said anything.”

Shaking your head, you cement, “No.”

“No?” His tone is gruff.

You finally look at him, “I don’t want to forget something like that, you were honest and vulnerable… Bi-Han, I don’t want you regretting that.”

His arms are crossed over his chest, his expression unmoving, “Could’ve fooled me–”

“­–I was surprised… I was scared… I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me but I’m not exactly the best at all of this,” you gesture between the two of you, hoping he understands because you can’t find the right words right now.

He’s frowning, “I didn’t ask you to be the best but when I say something like that, I at least expect something other than ‘thanks for dinner’.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he adds, “You also didn’t need to avoid me after.”

“I didn’t see you trying especially hard to talk to me afterwards,” this is bad, you’re feeling defensive, you’re not ready for this yet.

“You wouldn’t even spare a glance in my direction…” He sighs, “I thought if I gave you space, you would eventually explain things to me.”

Trying to defend yourself, you say, “I was going to!”

 “When?” His voice raises slightly with his question.

You’re frustrated, he’s surprisingly adept at communicating, you’re feeling more ashamed now… how is he able to better express himself than you. “I don’t like this conversation…”

“And you think I do? You think this is fun for me?” He moves closer again, standing in front of you, you’d forgotten how big he was… “The woman I am in a relationship with has been ignoring me for an entire week after I said I was falling for her and you think I’m having the time of my life? Do you realise how tedious and annoying I find talking about my feelings to be?”

Ah, he’s angry and you can’t even blame him, you think you would be angry with yourself too… in fact, you are.

He takes in and releases a deep breath, “Explain it to me, explain what happened.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, “I got scared… I wasn’t ready to be confronted with my own feelings. I froze up… and then I didn’t come to you because I didn’t have anything concrete to give you and I felt like you deserved… a real response.”

His eyes close in thought for a second, “You’re the only person here whose company I actually enjoy, I’d rather you be confused and talk to me than be certain and avoiding me.”

“Are you mad?” It’s a question with an obvious answer.

He doesn’t hesitate, “I’m furious.”

Yeah, you expected that much, “I’m sorry…”

He ignores your apology, not really looking for you to be sorry, “Did you find your answer?”

“Huh?”

“To what I said.”

“I did,” you shuffle from side to side, “I was going to talk to you… next time I saw you.”

He doesn’t speak but you can tell he’s telling you that time is now.

The mood doesn’t feel right, how can you tell a man that you’re also falling for him when he’s looking at you all angrily, “Well, I don’t really want to answer now… you’re all angry at me.”

“Woman,” his tone is restrained, trying not to yell at you, “You’re torturing me, you know that right?”

You swear you can see the veins in his neck twitching, like he’s a second away from exploding on the spot, “This doesn’t really… there aren’t really… UGH.” You raise your arms in exasperation, “The vibes aren’t especially romantic right now, Bi-Han.”

“And whose fault is that?” His tone is still firm but he’s growing to be somewhat amused, your clear struggle almost making up for being ignored.

“I feel embarrassed,” you know he knows what you want to say now.

He’s being cruel though, he’s punishing you, “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Of course not!–”

“–Then spit it out,” he interjects.

“Bi-Han,” you’re pouting now, “You already know what I want to say, can’t we leave it at that?”

“Absolutely not.”

He is giving you no mercy, not here, not tonight, not after what you did, “I feel the same as you.”

“Not good enough.”

You’d scowl at him but you’ve not earned that right, “This is hard.”

“I know,” he says.

Looking to him, you add, “I’m scared.”

He repeats, “I know.”

“I’m falling for you, Bi-Han,” as hard as it felt to get the words out, when you’re already saying them, they flow past your lips easily.

He looks a little lost at first, like he’s swimming through countless thoughts and feelings, like he’s not quite sure where he’s going to end up but then his eyes glint mischievously, “Thanks.”

You deflate slightly and mumble out, eyes looking down, “You’re welcome.”

He moves closer to you, sighing, “Ahhh,” he’s right in front of you, you can see his feet in front of your own, “Can I be this close to you, or are you still having a hard time thinking?”

You ignore his question, “Are you still mad?”

He considers, “Somewhat.”

“I’m sorry,” you can’t look up at him, you feel like a crybaby because your eyes are welling with tears, feeling incredibly guilty, “I’m really sorry, Bi-Han.”

“Shhh,” He hushes, his hand reaching out and resting on the back of your head, he pulls you forward so you’re leaning on his chest, “I know you are.”

“I don’t want to break up, I missed you a lot,” you don’t wrap your arms around him even though you really want to.

He steps closer again, his arms coming around you fully while yours hang limply at your sides, “Mmm,” he hums in understanding, “We aren’t breaking up, don’t cry over something like that.”

“You’re still mad though,” you sniffle.

“Yeah, I am…” he leans down, his head coming to the side of yours, nuzzling you slightly, “But I get to be, you went off and got all caught up in your own head, left me here worrying about you,” his lips brush against your cheekbone, “So, I’m going to be a little mad while I hold you close and tell you how much I like you.”

He kisses your cheek before moving his head and resting his chin against the top of yours, just holding you like this. “Hug me back or I’m gonna get mad again,” he might be joking but he also might not be.

Your arms wrap around him, tugging him closer, missing him so much. Being able to touch him, having him touch you, it’s making you dizzy, “I missed you a lot.”

He huffs, “You put me through it you know? Didn’t know if you were eating properly… didn’t know if you…” He grunts, “Didn’t know if you still wanted me…”

“I’m–”

“–Don’t apologise again, that’s not what I want… just want you to know that this was awful,” his lips move beside your ear, “Don’t do this to me again, not over something like this.” He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes, free arm still holding you to him, “Next time, talk to me properly.”

The irony is not lost on you, how you had wanted him to talk to you about his feelings properly, only to be unable to do the same. It feels ridiculous, you feel ridiculous and it’s frustrating you.  

You start before trailing off, “Bi-Han…”

He groans, “…If you’re going to apologise again, I don’t want to hear it.”

Pushing on, you insist, “But I am sorry, I just… sometimes I need time to process things and–”

“–Be quiet now.” He cuts you off, he doesn’t need some grand explanation from you, he understands what happened. He had opened his confession for the depth of his feelings by telling you he was frightened, he gets it.

Sulking, you complain, “I feel silly…”

“You are…” He leans in closer to you, “…But I still like you so it’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours.

It feels like your skin is on fire, his proximity to you feels brand new. His lips grazing yours is electric, you want him to kiss you so badly but you don’t move, not willing to mess it up. He’s managed to fully distract you from the comment he made, snarking back at him not even a passing thought in your head, the only thing you want is for him to kiss you.

Bi-Han can’t help the small and amused smile on his lips at how you look incredibly desperate for him to do something as simple as kiss you. He considers not kissing you, just for moment, just to see the way your face would fall and how you’d pout all pathetically at him. But like he said, he’s not a patient man and he has missed you.

Closing the almost non-existent gap, he kisses you fully, his lips on yours reverent, he really had missed you. He pulls back too soon for your liking, if the sad whine you let out is anything to go off of. The sound you make has him almost caving but he thinks that punishing you by depriving you of physical contact will result in you doing something much more interesting.

“You should eat something,” he breathes against you.

Ignoring him, you move in to press your lips onto his again, he’s so close, but he’s a dick and he moves back at the last second. It feels taunting, cruel, you hate this about him, mostly you hate that you like this about him.

Why is he choosing now to be mean? “Didn’t you miss kissing me?”

He huffs, “Oh, that’s a harsh thing to say, of course I did.”

Exasperated, you complain, “Then­–”

Raising a single brow at you he encourages you to keep going, but you stop. You aren’t even really sure what you want to say, plus you feel a little at a disadvantage with your usual back and forth. You normally are but especially right now.

He shakes his head slightly, “No, go on, finish what you were saying.” You stand silently in front of him and he continues, “Feeling guilty?”

“A little…” It’s not lost on you how he’s not used the pet name he has for you a single time tonight.

“Don’t,” he’s moving in close and planting a full kiss on your mouth before you can fully register it. He doesn’t linger for long, his lips on yours for a mere moment before he’s pulling away and walking through the kitchen.

You’re stood stunned, stuck to your spot, mind reeling over his kiss. How he manages to kiss you in a way that affects you so deeply, even when it’s just a fleeting moment, you have no idea.

His words from behind you catch your attention, “You hungry or not?”

“Yes,” Control of your body comes back to you as your brain reboots at his question.

Bi-Han complains to himself mostly, voice unimpressed, “Dinner wasn’t that good tonight…”

You laugh a little, “Whatever was left is fine.”

Grumbling slightly, he reheats your food for you and doesn’t leave while you eat, you have a feeling his reluctance to leave your side is due heavily to you avoiding him for as long as you did and you feel really bad about it. You wonder if this overwhelming guilt will ever leave you, looking at him and how doting he is on you even after you were an asshole makes your chest squeeze.

After you’ve eaten, he walks you back to your room, his side brushing yours the whole way back. He’s so close to you and you want to hold his hand but you’re not sure you’re allowed to. It’s dumb, holding his hand would’ve been something you’d do without any hesitation previously but now everything you want to do has you thinking hard about whether or not you’re allowed to.

In the end, he grabs your hand himself, frustrated with how you kept glancing down at his. He was wondering how long it would take for you to reach out to him but as your room was getting closer and closer, he was growing more and more annoyed with how you had yet to even try and move your hand to his.

Your hand feels cold even to him, “Why are you out in so little?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I was only going to eat quickly and rush back to my room…”

His tone is unamused, “You need to wear more at night.”

“Noted,” your reply is unconcerned, you feel fine, a little chilly but it’s not like it’s going to kill you.

At your door, you aren’t sure what you expected but it certainly wasn’t him refusing to come inside. You had walked into the room easily, tugging him behind you mindlessly, only to be met with resistance. He’d pulled back slightly, not moving from the threshold.

Now, his large frame stands in front of you, imposing. Face unreadable, you have no way of knowing what he’s thinking, you liked to think you had gotten pretty good at understanding him but right now, you’re at a complete and utter lost.

Feeling sheepish, you stumble over your words, embarrassed, “Oh… sorry, I don’t know why I assumed… you would want to come inside…”

He still doesn’t make any obvious show of emotion, “I do.”

Your expression shifts to one of confusion, “Come inside then?”

“I can’t.”

What is wrong with him? “I’m not understanding.”

“You should go to bed,” he pulls you to him, “I’ll see you tomorrow…” His voice is low as he hold you close, his lips pressing to yours softly, a goodnight kiss.

You sigh into him, “Bi-Han…”

“Good night,” his hands leave you.

You repeat his words, though it comes out more like a question, “…Good night?”

He walks off in the direction you came, trailing back to his own room. He was always somewhat of an odd character but this was an absurd interaction. Flopping into bed, you get comfortable under the covers and drift. Sleeping okay for the first time in a while, mood feeling slightly better after being able to see and talk to him.

❆˖°

The room is cold and it’s early in the morning, you can’t bring yourself to even try and leave the warmth of your covers. Someone will come for you if you don’t get up soon but you’re so warm and so comfy and it’s hard getting up in the morning, especially lately.

Memories of last night and talking to Bi-Han are swarming your mind, it’s too early to think about it all. He didn’t say he forgave you, he seemed like he was okay but the idea of him never really forgiving you hurts you deeply. He said he was still somewhat mad… what does that even mean? How do you make it up to him? Does he just need time?

There are so many questions you still have and you would’ve asked them last night if you hadn’t gotten distracted by how guilty you felt. You want to see Bi-Han again but you’re so unsure of yourself and how you should behave with him. He didn’t hesitate to reach out to you but every time you want to reach for him, you hesitate and it’s making you restless.

An abrupt knock on the door startles you but you tuck back in under your covers and pretend to still be asleep, not wanting to get up yet. They seem to wait a moment before a few more knocks tap at your door, a bit more forceful this time. You consider getting up and letting them in this time but you ultimately can’t bring yourself to get up and your head ends up under the covers as well.

The door sliding open surprises you, having thought they would just walk away when you didn’t reply. Other than the door opening and closing, it’s silent, you can’t even hear their footsteps on the floorboards. Are they even walking into the room? You’re confused but you keep your head tucked under the covers.

A few moments go by in the quiet room and if you couldn’t feel an overwhelming presence, you’d assume they had just looked in for a moment before leaving. You don’t know what you should do next, revealing yourself just proves you were awake the whole time and you’re unwilling to give up that easy.

While considering your next move, Bi-Han’s voice cuts through the quiet, “You and I both know you’re awake under there.”

You don’t speak and you certainly don’t move, you aren’t really quite sure why you don’t just get up but enough time has gone by now that you’re a little embarrassed and the longer you wait to get up the more stupid it all feels, so you think it might just be best if you stay under the blanket.

His voice comes again, unamused, “Are you really going to make me pull you out of the bed by your ankles?” Impatient taps of his foot hitting the floor reach your ears, the only sound you’ve heard from him other than his words.

Now, if you were smart and not just coming out of sleep, you’d recognise this as the threat it is but for some reason you had assumed he was only joking… something Bi-Han doesn’t do often. In one swift moment, the blanket is ripped from you and you are abruptly pulled halfway down the bed by your ankles. A small, shocked sound leaves you at the speed of which it all happens, the cold tickling your skin in a way that would have you complaining if you weren’t distracted.

Still, you make no move to roll over and give away that you are awake, and again, you have no idea why you’re committing to this so hard. Bi-Han grunts at you, “There is no way you’re asleep after that.” You don’t hear him but you feel his hand on your hip, “And don’t think I didn’t hear you just now.” The hand he has on you flips you onto your back easily.

He’s standing back and looking down at you, exasperated look on his face, his eyes boring into yours, he’s at a complete loss for why you did all this. Smiling sheepishly, you chirp up at him, “Good morning…”

He continues to look at you, sighing slightly. He looks good from this angle, the way he’s looking down at you, his chest, your thoughts are quickly heading in a suggestive direction.

The cold reminds you of its presence, pursing your lips, you ask him, “…Could I have my blanket back?”

His reply is monosyllabic, “No.”

“Well, that’s just not nice.” You go to lean up while grumbling about his unkindness but he pushes you back down, “Hey! What was that for? You’re the one who wanted me to get up.”

His head tilts to the side, “Yes but now I can’t help but enjoy this view.”

Raising a brow, you ask, “So, am I just meant to lay here while you get an eyeful?”

“Yes.”

You huff slightly as you move to get up again, “Bi-Han, don’t be…” your words trail off as he leans down at the same time as you get up, his face in front of your own.

He moves in more, asking, “‘Don’t be’ what?”

You can’t help but stumble over your words as you look up at him, “I… uhh… I don’t… know…”

He hums at you, amused, his eyes flick to your lips and for a brief moment you think he might kiss you. His lips close to yours “You need to get up,” he says it as he pulls away which makes you deflate.

You go to flop back onto the bed but he grabs both your arms and pulls you up until you’re standing on your feet, he sighs at you, “You really made me pull you out of bed.”

“Let me get back in it,” you struggle against his grip.

“Stop being dramatic,” he doesn’t let you go, knowing your first move would be to grab your blanket and curl back up in bed.

Lamenting, you whinge, “Why are you the one who had to come get me.”

“Oh?” he gives you a look, “Would you prefer someone else come get you?”

“No…” you deny, before adding “…But if I did… maybe someone who would be nicer to me…”

“Hmmm,” he considers you for a moment more, moving in closer to eye you carefully, “That’s too bad,” he murmurs before planting a soft, single kiss on your lips, “Since it’s just me who’s willing to enter your room this early,” his lips brush against yours with his words.

You want him to kiss you again but he doesn’t, “Now get ready for the day,” he pulls away completely and pats your head once, “And don’t get back in bed.” Then he walks away and out the door.

Today sucks, you don’t want to train, you don’t want to meditate, you don’t want to talk to people, you want to lay in bed and be warm and dramatic. Things have been stressful lately and you haven’t had time to just stop. Every day is the same thing and it’s exhausting, plus your brain is like mush at the moment.

This thing with Bi-Han… what happens after all of this? What are you expecting to happen… See? This is why you just want to get back into bed, none of your thoughts lately have been particularly inviting. You don’t want to think.

❆˖°

They fucking sidelined you, you were right, today sucks. You didn’t want to think… so, you didn’t. Instead going all in on training, focusing on nothing but pushing yourself and you guess, you freaked everyone out and got told to sit out for a bit.

Watching is boring and maybe you’re pouting as you watch the guys spar and maybe you’re sighing loudly every few minutes so they can hear you. If you weren’t an adult you’d maybe kick your feet about it all, you’ve been restless and not wanting to think and you get sidelined, now?

Honestly, you’re surprised they didn’t sideline you before yesterday, though you were just sucking then, now you seem like an insane person. This is worse than when you sprained your ankle, at least you couldn’t spar then, you can now and you’re still forced to just sit here and watch.

As you let out another melodramatic sigh, Johnny groans back at you with as much energy, exasperated by you, “What is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing,” you bristle, not appreciating the way he phrased that question.

“Yeah, that’s why you were on the verge of actually training yourself to death,” he leaves Kenshi and flops down onto his ass beside you, “Spill.”

Kenshi stands in front of you both, looking down at you with a single raised brow, you know what he’s asking.

Johnny verbalises what Kenshi was silently asking though, “You and Bi-Han make up yet?”

You side eye him, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, everyone knows you two are on the outs, hell, you stopped coming to group meals,” Johnny doesn’t even let you try and lie, clearly not interested in hearing what you’d come up with.

Grimacing, you note, “You’re all too interested in my personal life.”

Johnny shrugs, “Your own fault, you’re sleeping with the scariest brother and you also let your feelings overwhelm your actions.”

“Have more sympathy, Cage,” Kenshi kicks Johnny’s foot.

Johnny scoffs, “Don’t kick me.”

You interrupt before their argument can get too out of hand, “Okay, well you two have been very helpful, you can leave me alone now.”

“Hey, I am trying to help,” Johnny places his hand on your shoulder.

You place your hand over his, “You really wanna help?” He nods at you, and you continue, “Let me train.”

Both Kenshi and Johnny answer simultaneously, “No.” Look at that, they both agreed on something.

You groan loudly and dramatically, head tipping back with it, very unhappy. How are you meant to go through today if you can’t distract yourself? It gets a boring around here. A shadow looms over you as your head is tipped back and when you squint your eyes open, you see it’s Bi-Han.

Looking down at you, he asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

“They won’t let me train,” you immediately accuse.

He glances at Johnny and Kenshi and Johnny pokes your side, unhappy, “Nobody likes a snitch.” He looks at Bi-Han, “It’s for her own good, she was gonna hurt herself.”

Leaning over to Johnny, you repeat his words, “Nobody likes a snitch.” Ultimately though, you get up and face Bi-Han.

His expression is unreadable, his tone even, “Come with me.” It’s all he says before he’s walking off, expecting you to follow him.

You glance back at the guys, blaming them with your eyes. Johnny raises his arms in defence, “Your own fault.”

First, you flip him off before jogging to keep up with Bi-Han. He leads you to a private area of the grounds, you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say.

He turns back to you, his eyes looking you over carefully, “Are you okay?”

Okay… not quite what you were expecting. You were expecting him to scold you about taking care of yourself or something, not check in on you. “I’m fine,” you shrug dismissively.

His expression displays his doubt, knowing better, “You didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning and now you’re training so hard you’re worrying your friends. Something is wrong.”

“I’m just…” you sigh, annoyed with yourself, “I’m just having a bad day Bi-Han… I have so many questions I want to ask you, I have so many concerns over the future, I have so many thoughts and feelings and they’re frustrating me all, so I just wanted to… not think… for a little bit.”

He doesn’t move, “Ask.”

“What?”

He clarifies, “Ask your questions, I will do my best to answer and that should help, right?”

You intake a deep breath and begin asking your questions, “When you said you’re somewhat mad, how mad? Do you need time? Should I try and make it up to you? If so, how do I do that? Also, am I allowed to touch you? Or do I have to ask first? Are you going to resent me later? After everything here is finished and things go back to normal… are we just not going to see each other anymore? Would–”

“–Calm down.” His hands reach out to you, one soothes over your head, the other pulling you towards him, “You’re working yourself up,” he observes, forehead resting against yours, “Take some deep breaths.”

You listen to him and try to calm your breathing, not realising how worked up you had got yourself. Your rapid-fire questions making you anxious and fidgety.

“Now,” he pulls his head back but grabs hold of your hand, letting you know he’s still nearby, “I am still somewhat mad because it’s still fresh but I don’t resent you and I’m not going to. You don’t have to do anything to make it up to me and I don’t need time. I’ve had enough time; I just want you.”

You’re still trying to calm down, heart pounding in your chest though you have a feeling that’s starting to have more to do with him answering your questions. He continues replying to what he remembers, “You don’t have to ask to touch me, though watching you struggle has been mildly amusing.”

You scowl at him for that and he smiles tenderly at it, his hand moving to cradle your face. Opening your mouth, you go to scold him but he shushes you, “Quiet, I’m not done answering yet.”

He continues, “I don’t know what normal is to you, but this is not abnormal to me, I don’t know what will happen and nothing is guaranteed.” It’s not lost on you that those last few words are your own mirrored back at you, “But don’t be ridiculous, of course we’re still going to see each other, sweet girl.”

And maybe it’s his assurances or maybe it’s the fact he finally used that term of endearment on you again but your eyes well with tears and you tuck your head into his chest. Seeking comfort in his embrace, not for the first time and certainly not for the last either. He holds you close to him, to his heart, feeling more like himself than he has in a while.

He holds you until you stop crying, his hands soothing over you. When you’ve finally calmed down, you reach up and pull his face to yours, kissing him gently, lips brushing his, “Will you stay with me tonight… please?”

He laughs airily against you, “How can I say no to that?”

He can feel the way you smile before you pull back, “Good.” You linger a moment more, “I should get back… but, thank you… for being patient.”

You jog back off towards where you were training, feeling a touch lighter. Maybe things are still a little uncertain and maybe you’re still a little scared about how much you’re feeling but you’re not alone and remembering that helps.

❆˖°

Waiting is hard, it shouldn’t be, in fact most people would probably find waiting easy but it’s frustrating to you. While waiting for Bi-Han, you have tidied your room and made your bed, you had left it this morning. Now you’re just stuck waiting for Bi-Han to come by but this is getting old fast, you can’t relax enough to read or do any other kind of activity to distract yourself. So, you do the most reasonable thing… and put on your robe and leave your room to wander around aimlessly.

You don’t get very far before spotting Bi-Han while you’re out, he gives you a look that lets you know you’ve been caught but you turn tail and run back for your room in hopes you can get there before him and play it off like it wasn’t you he just saw.

When you’re back in your room, you grab the book off your nightstand and sit on the bed, trying to look as casual as possible. Opening the book to the place you left off; you pretend to be very interested in what’s happening. You jump when Bi-Han slides your room door open and closed behind him but you don’t look to him.

He’s stoic, still, arms crossed and waiting for you to acknowledge him. You pretend to finish your page and flick to the next, he lets out an amused exhale through his nose and takes the book from you.

“I was reading that,” you complain.

He takes your bookmark from you as well and places it inside the book, but not before flicking back a page, “Maybe… but not just now you weren’t.” He puts the book down on the table.

Frowning, you lie, “Yeah I was.”

“Really,” he raises a brow at you, “Then who was the sexy, little thing I saw running around outside in your robe?” He looks pointedly at the robe you didn’t take off before getting on the bed.

You squint at him, “I think it’s messed up that you would ask me that.”

“So, it wasn’t you? Should I go and try and find out who that was then?” His thumb points back over his shoulder, gesturing at the outside.

Grumbling, you admit all too easily, “It was me.”

“Obviously,” he rolls his eyes, “What did I tell you about going out in so little?”

You look upwards in thought, “Uhh… that it’s a great idea and I should do it more to embrace the beauty of the cold?”

“I remember saying something entirely different,” he hums, “Something more along the lines of – don’t do it.”

“Our signals must’ve gotten crossed, it happens,” you shake your head.

His hands flick at you, asking to give him room. “I’m so sure,” he mumbles as you move over to make space for him, “What were you even going out for?” He asks as he sits down beside you.

You sit up properly and face him, “I was bored of waiting… was gonna wander around for a bit.”

His back is resting on the headboard, arms forever crossed, “And your plan if you ran into me was to run away? Even though you knew I was staying with you tonight.”

Rubbing at the back of your head, you give a flimsy excuse, “Okay well, I wasn’t really sure when to expect you and I feel like I waited a respectable amount of time before… wandering.”

He scratches at the side of his cheek, “You’re not very capable of just sitting still.”

“I am too,” you pout at him.

Shaking his head, he says, “I wasn’t asking, I was making an observation.”

You only frown at him in response.

He sighs at you, “Ah, don’t sulk about it–”

“–I sit still for hours at a time meditating,” you remind. “I can sit still.”

“Then next time, just wait for me.” His hands reach out for you, “Instead of walking around in the cold.”

You let yourself be pulled into him, falling easily against his chest. “Next time, you should be quicker,” your words are mumbled against him. Both your hands press against his chest to push yourself back, “I feel weird Bi-Han.”

He hums at you in acknowledgement, “Weird how?”

“I can’t help but still feel a little unsure of us now…” Your eyebrows must be scrunching because he does the same move to you that you do to him and smooths between them with his thumb, “…I think it might be guilt.”

“I don’t want you to feel guilty,” he looks you over carefully, “I want you to be the same as you always are. Stubborn and sure.”

You chuckle, “That’s what you think of me?”

“I think many things of you, I very seldom am not thinking something of you,” his hand cups your cheek, “I think you are brilliant and I want to be witness to it,” his thumb brushes over your lip, “So, stop feeling guilty, I can’t witness your brilliance if you’re hiding it from me.”

He manoeuvres you to straddle him properly and then kisses you deeply, his tongue licking into your mouth. His hand angling you so he can kiss you how he likes, it’s hot and messy, and you’re getting lost in it. When he separates the kiss, he trails his lips down your cheek, to your neck, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

He speaks against you, voice low, “Conversely, I could always fuck the guilt out of you.”

You gasp at his words, not entirely expecting them, “Not sure that would work.”

“I could always try,” he latches onto your neck, where it meets your shoulder and sucks hard. Leaving a dark mark behind, “Shouldn’t have avoided me for so long, all my marks have faded.”

Huffing, your hands reach for his shoulders, fisting his clothing, “You can’t possibly expect me to always be covered in hickeys.”

He questions, “No?”

“No,” you confirm, head slipping back, offering him more room to work.

His voice vibrates through your skin, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so willing to receive them then.”

“M-maybe you’re right,” your words falter when he nips at a particularly tender part of your neck, knowing you too well.

His hands slip under your shirt, caressing your skin, big hands splayed under your breasts, resting on your ribcage. He’s kissing you again, desperately, properly, no longer interested in teasing you with fleeting and soft kisses. He wants it all and he wants it now.

Your tongue meets his and your heart stutters in your chest, he groans against you when you grind down into him. Mind half gone and attention on his mouth, on his hands, barely registering your own movements.

His hands on you round to your back, tugging you into him, your chest meeting his. Your arms loop around his neck, holding him close, your breaths huffed and lips rushed on his. Your lips part and he holds you as he moves up, laying you gently against the mattress and hovering over you, your heads at the wrong end of the bed.

Untangling from you, he grabs at your hips and pulls your pants and underwear off in one motion. They’re chucked unceremoniously on the floor somewhere, not of any concern to you or Bi-Han. Right now, Bi-Han looks beautiful like this, eyes glazing slightly, focused on a million things at once but arriving at the same conclusion.

He’s back at your neck and trailing down, shoving your shirt up your body, lips moving to your exposed skin and continuing his descent. It’s making you nervous, “Bi-Han, you don’t have to…”

His forehead rests on your ribcage, stopping at your hesitance, “‘I don’t have to’, what?” When you don’t respond to him, he pulls back to look you in the eyes, “I’ve not had you in a week and now you’re telling me I don’t have to put my mouth on you? This isn’t just for you, sweet girl.”

You feel shy, “I just thought…”

He’s not entertaining your line of thinking, telling you like it is, “You thought wrong.” He leans back into your skin, kissing you softly, continuing downwards, “Can I lick your pussy now? Or are you going to make me say please.”

God, you bristle at his words, his deep voice, it’s making your pulse thump deliciously, “Ahh,” you can’t stop the gasp you let out when he kisses the top of your thigh, “A p-please would be nice.”

His stupid eyebrow raises at you, “Would it now?”

“Mhm,” you nod your head warily.

He clicks his tongue, “You want me to beg to taste you, to put my mouth on you?”

He’s flustering you, he’s so close to your cunt, he could lean in and easily put his mouth on you like this and you wouldn’t even be mad.

Before you can reply, he speaks again, “Please let me tongue fuck you.” His words are gruff, unamused.

You’re so shocked, all you can manage is a meek, “Okay.”

“Hope you know, you’ll be paying for that later…” You don’t even really register his threat because he immediately follows it up with, “Look at you,” his thumb swipes through your folds, collecting your slick and spreading it even more, “All worked up, you like when I ask please, when I’m nice?”

“Bi-Han,” your stomach does flips when he rests the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Missed this sight,” he ignores the call of his name, distracted by how wet you are for him, how you clench pathetically around nothing.

You go to call out to him again, get him to move his thumb, touch you properly, something but he’s beaten you to the punch and is licking up the length of your cunt. The moan you let out is not one you expected and your hand moves to cover your mouth, the sound shocking you. It was far too desperate for how little he’s touched you. He hums appreciatively though, relishing in the sound made.

If he were willing to part from you, he’d tell you to move that fucking hand but his mouth is somewhat indisposed at the moment. He can manage however, a sharp glare at you and your hand, a wordless interaction you understand, uncovering your mouth tentatively, like you’re scared you might make that same noise again.

It’s wet and sloppy and he’s making an obscene mess of you, his mouth moving from sucking on your clit to fucking his tongue inside you. Taking his time to practically make out with your cunt, leaning into it more so his nose rubs against your clit. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs try to close around his head.

Surprisingly, he lets you, his hands hold the outside of your thighs, resting there. His face pushing down to continue to get at you like this but he lets you smother him with your thighs. He moves his thumbs to keep your folds parted, needing more access. The obscene clicking noises of his tongue in your slick pussy would make the devil blush.

The moans and whimpers you’re letting out are no better, fingers scrabbling to find purchase somewhere. Settling for the sheets in the end, not wanting to move Bi-Han, not when he’s hitting all the right places, you’re getting close embarrassingly quick.

Something he’s completely aware of, not stopping for a moment, he’s feasting on you like he might never again and after this week he’d say that was a genuine concern for a moment. As much as he loves having your thighs either side his head, he really needs better access. His hands force your legs apart again, pinning them apart and up.

The sound you let out is wrecked and he can’t help but groan alongside it, enjoying your reactions immensely. Some things never change and one of those things seems to be just how fucking reactive you are to him. Always so sensitive, so easy to rile up, so messy. If he weren’t slurping at your cunt he’d definitely say something about it to you.

Two of his fingers prod at your entrance, slipping inside you carefully, stretching you open. The way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers in has him moaning brokenly into you, muffled. If he were a weaker man, this might kill him. He can feel the way you’re pulsing around his fingers, your hips frantically trying to rut down against him, getting close.

Nails claw at the sheets, you’re not sure if you want to rut down into him and chase your high or pull away. Feeling completely overwhelmed by everything he’s doing right now. His lips suck at your clit, his fingers large inside you, curling just right. Your stomach flips and your cunt clenches down on him.

It startles you, how quickly you cum, you hadn’t even realised it until it was too late, not able to give a warning. The only sign given is the harsh grip your pussy has on his fingers and your moan as your thighs shake. Cum leaking from you and coating Bi-Han’s fingers, he doesn’t let up. Fucking you through your high, flicking at your clit just to watch you twitch.

It’s too much, you whine and try to wiggle away from him, that’s when he relents. Slipping his fingers from you and into his mouth, sucking them clean before wiping them on your inner thigh. He plants sloppy kisses up your body, stopping and hovering at your cheek, your head turned to the side.

You feel lazy when you pull your head back to face him, eyes wet and unfocused, completely docile for him after only one orgasm. He huffs an amused breath against your lips, “You good, sweetie? Or–”

“–Mhm, I’m good, I can keep going… I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he presses a light kiss to your temple, “Take this off,” he pulls at your shirt and robe.

He leaves you on the bed. Absently, you can hear him rustling just to the side of you and you’d stare at him shamelessly if undressing completely didn’t require your full attention right now. You shirk your robe off your shoulders and toss it somewhere, your shirt promptly follows, though embarrassingly, it’s harder to get off.

You flop back onto your spot on the bed, the thought to move so you’re on the bed the right way crosses in the back of your mind but you don’t really see the point. The bed dips with Bi-Han’s weight and your hands instinctually reach out for him.

He lets you pull him down into you, your legs wrapping around his waist to tug all of him close, he breathes against your neck when you’ve successfully got him pressed up against you completely.

“You just want to cuddle?” He’s being genuine, nosing at the high point of your cheek.

You make a noise of disagreement, “Just want you close.”

His words are crude, “So, I can stick my dick inside you?”

You whine at him, “Is there not a nicer way to say that?”

“I’ve found,” he presses his hips into you so his cock spreads your folds, grinding into you, getting his dick wet, “It’s quicker to be straightforward.”

Your mouth drops open when he grazes your sensitive clit, “You –hah– You sure you don’t just like embarrassing me?”

Humming, he muses, “I won’t lie, that’s a big bonus.”

“Can –ngh– you just–” You’re cut off by a sharp gasp, lungs shuddering at the glide of his heavy cock against your cunt.

“Mmm?” He’s teasing, “I’m sure I could but you need to use your words.”

Your head tips slightly, feeling like a moan is going to leave you at any second, “Bi-Han, fffuck me, please.”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that,” his tone is full of humour.

Parting from you, he puts enough space between you to guide his cock to your entrance. Careful as he begins pushing into you, the stretch makes you hiss through your teeth. He’s somehow bigger than you remember, he’s going to split you in half.

“Breathe,” his voice reminds, “You’ve taken it before.”

You let go of the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, focusing on relaxing for him, “I don’t –hah– I forgot howw big–” He slides into you more while you’re talking and your sentence is cut off with a moan.

“Only a week and you’re already forgetting how well you take me?” He’s starting to sound strained, “Feel a little offended.”

“Just,” the stretch is less painful and more delicious, he’s filling you so well and you need, “More, Bi-Han.”

He’s taking it slow, always so careful, “Changed your tune pretty quick there.”

“Don’t –mmph– don’t tease,” you whinge.

He groans as he sinks deeper, “But you look so –hah– cute when I do.”

You feel full, the pressure increasing, tip of his cock grazing all the right spots. You feel like you could melt into the mattress, your legs are tangled at the bottom of his back and you use them to tug him down to you. He falters and almost falls onto you, hand coming out to balance his weight above you.

“You want it that –mph– fuckin bad?” His words are bitten back, “Take it then,” he grunts before slamming the rest of his dick inside you all at once.

Oh, how your eyes roll, choked noise clawing up your throat at the sudden feeling of having every inch of him weighing heavy inside you. Reaching up, your nails claw desperately at his back.

“Oh my– oh– ah– I can’t– ffffuck,” you’re not making sense, not really, overwhelmed by how good it feels, how deep he sits.

He chuckles darkly at your state, staying still for a moment, giving you a second to just feel all of him. And then, when he thinks you’re adjusting and coming to some sense of normalcy, he draws back and fucks his cock back inside you. The shift has more stupid series of words slipping from you, which he finds as amusing and endearing as he did the first time he managed to reduce you to this state.

He leans down into you again, acquiescing when your hands keep pulling and tugging at him, wanting to feel his skin on yours. He’s so large and so safe and feels so–

His hips are slow, slow for him anyways, thrusts even and measured but not relentlessly fucking you into the mattress. There is a weight behind them though, the kind that has pressure sitting heavy in your lungs. Every time he bottoms out, you can’t help the pitiful sounds you make, you tuck your head into his neck, hoping to hide from the noises you’re making but they don’t go anywhere.

If anything, this is worse, Bi-Han’s lips are right at your ear, brushing the shell of it, “You hear that?” He asks, pausing so you can hear the lewd, sloppy noises your pussy makes as he fucks into you, “The wet fucking sounds of you taking me so well.”

You’re so embarrassed, “Bi-Han–”

A particularly harsh thrust cuts off what would’ve been a complaint and turns it into a weak moan, the pace he set is maddening, “I’m being gentle with you, sweetie, what you wanted.”

Is it what you wanted? Did you ask for gentle, you think distantly you remember a conversation about him being gentle with you but you’re pretty sure you had said you didn’t want that in fear of this very situation. He’s being ‘gentle’ but he’s getting you so close to the edge and just – not pushing you off it, holding you there. It’s torture, it’s punishment, he’s mad at you, you could swear by it.

You ask as much, “Ah– are you mad at mme?”

“How could I be mad when you feel this good?” He grinds down into you, as if to emphasise his point.

You’re a dream to him, fucked and whimpering, tight as sin, and stumbling over yourself to say something only to end up calling his name and worthless pleas. He’ll give you what you want, when he’s ready. For now, he’s going to tease you and hold you right on the edge of finishing before taking it away from you. Maybe because he’s mean, maybe because he likes the glassy look in your eyes that makes it look like you might cry.

His hips speed up slightly and it’s just what you need, getting so so close to cumming. You’re clinging to him for dear life but just when you think you might get to cum, he pins you to the bed with his hips, stilling inside you. He can feel the way you throb around him, so close for him before he ripped it away from you.

You try grinding up into him, “Why– Why– Why stop?”

He looks you in the eyes, hand soft on your cheek, tilting you to look at him properly, your eyes are so out of focus, “Wanted to see your reaction.”

“Please.”

He knows what you want but he asks anyway, “Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” you were so close, so close.

“I am,” he reminds, hips pulling back to fuck into you again.

You bite back a moan as best as you can, “Ah– Then– then don’t stoppp –mmph–”

“Maybe,” he makes no promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

The pace drags, every inch of him, pulled from you slowly, before he’s shoving himself right back inside your wet heat. It takes an amazing amount of control on Bi-Han’s behalf, to fuck you like this, torturing you. Building up your orgasm slowly, crafting it carefully.

Mostly, he’s just lost, lost in your pussy, maybe he’s pussy drunk, but then if he were, would he be holding onto this much control still? In love with how you grip him, with how you twitch and spasm and whine and claw at him but not enough to fuck you into the mattress with reckless abandon.

He’s so cruel, just so mean, oh but when he gets you this close to cumming again he doesn’t feel mean, he feels good and nice and you just need him to not stop, “Bi-Han, please, I–” “–Already?” He hums but his hips stop again, pinning you again, taking away your high again.

“No no no nonono,” you squirm slightly, “You said you wouldn’t stop again,” you’re looking at him through your lashes, they’re wet, have you been crying?

He shakes his head, denying it, “I said maybe.”

“Bi-Han, this time, please, you need to let me cum,” you’re looking at him so seriously.

He nods his head this time, as if understanding suddenly, “Oh, I need to, well why didn’t you say so?”

You pout at him, “I will do anything, please.”

He asks, “Anything?” You nod vehemently at him and he leans closer to you, “All you need to do is take it.”

You want to tell him how mean he is, how unkind he’s being but you don’t want to motivate him to be any meaner to you, “I might die.”

“Hmm, interesting, let’s see,” and then he’s drawing back and setting that same maddening rhythm again, the one that makes your skin itch and your pussy ache.

He does this to you, a handful of times more, getting you close to the edge, dragging you there slowly, meticulously, only to stop and let you twitch and squirm and cry under him. Every time you beg him to just let you cum, let you finish, but he’s taking sick pleasure in how fucked out and pathetic you’re getting.

All gooey eyed and messy for him, fuck so messy, he tells you as much, “Making such a wet mess, sweet girl, listen to that,” he pauses his word and fucks into you quickly just so you can hear how your cunt squelches around him and you’re going to pass out.

You’re only really capable of broken syllables of his name and weak whimpers, you’re getting close again but you’re so sure he’s going to stop, you’re ready for him to stop. He doesn’t, he picks up speed, fucking you quicker, harder, the obscene noises of him fucking you almost drowning out your moans.

He groans at how impossibly tight you get, he’s not going to stop, not this time, not when he’s so fucking close too. Getting sick of this game, he’s got the patience to play with you for long enough that you’ll go crazy but after that all bets are off.

Your back arches up into him and your nails scratch at his biceps and down his back, your head tucking back into his neck. You’re clenching down on him so tight, pressure in your stomach tightening, and a particularly sharp thrust where his pelvis hits your clit just right has you cumming apart under him, around him.

You’re trying to milk his cock and it’s setting his skin on fire; he bites into your neck as he cums at the same time as you. Not able to hold back his noises but able to at least muffle them into your skin. You’re shuddering under him, panting harshly, pussy jumping around his dick.

He’s cum so much it leaks out around the base of him and down from where he’s still seated deep inside you. He detaches from your neck and lathes over the bite mark he left behind with his tongue, feeling bad for how prominent it’s going to be. Though, not feeling all that bad about how long it will linger for.

“Thank you, thank you,” you’re murmuring it over and over into his skin and he doesn’t know if you realise it or not. He presses kisses to your lips, stopping you from talking.

You could almost swear that you’re not in your body, you’re floating somewhere above it, feeling like you came so hard you might’ve blacked out for a couple seconds. Suddenly, you’re spinning, Bi-Han has flipped you both so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him.

Neither of you are willing to move for the moment, so you just lay pressed up again him, relishing in the skin-to-skin contact. Always enjoying when he’s this close to you, you’re not even sure you’re capable of a coherent thought right now that doesn’t start and end with Bi-Han.

Eventually, you regain enough awareness to say, “I need a shower.”

“Give me ten more minutes and we can shower,” his hand runs down your back.

“Mmkay,” your lips ghost his neck and he shudders.

For those ten minutes he has asked for, he kisses you, deeply, sweetly, reverently. He holds you tenderly and kisses you like he worships the ground you walk on, like you’re incapable of doing anything wrong ever. And you kiss him back in kind, feeling like you don’t mind how scary it is to watch yourself fall in love with someone.

When he does get up, he’s careful with you, carrying you to the shower and washing your body, his fingers digging into some muscles as he goes, massaging you. Of course, he’s a little too focused on how his cum leaks from you when you’re standing upright, hesitant to wash it away but knowing you’d chew him out if he didn’t.

While standing in front of the bed, you feel heavy, achy, he’s washed and dried you, even helping you redress in clean pyjamas. He always takes such good care of you after he fucks you within an inch of your life.

Your eyes look at the wet stain left on the bed and you feel icky, “That’s so embarrassing…”

Bi-Han tracks your eyeline, also clean and redressed beside you, “Really? I’m quite proud.”

You hide your head in your hands, “You say… the worst things.”

Ignoring your words, he asks, “Want me to change the sheets?”

Peaking at him through your fingers, you smile at him, “Okay, sometimes you say really great things.”

He huffs, amused, but changes the sheets for you and when it’s fresh and clean, he pulls you into the bed and holds you close. You feel so warm and fuzzy and light and you want to stay with him forever, you want to stay just like this forever.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[sweetfushi]

CONFESSING TO THEM

fluff | tengen uzui, kyojuro rengoku, sanemi shinazugawa x reader, reader nearly dies, tengen has three wives and you're tryna become his fourth | word count. 1.4k

TENGEN UZUI.

You know he’s married, thrice too. But sitting next to Tengen and watching him observe the Koi in the pond, a subtle smile on his face, warms your chest. You don’t realise that you’d started gazing at him longingly until he catches you, turning to you with a big grin. The beads of his headpiece rattled in the wind alongside your flowing hair.

“Tengen,” you start, voice meek and apprehensive, “I know you’re… married, but um, I don’t think I can continue our friendship if I don’t tell you.” At this point, your voice trails off into a whisper he has to lean in to hear. You almost outwardly giggle at the close proximity.

“You like me, huh?”

“What? Did you– have you known all along?” You huff and grab a nearby pebble to throw at him, only for it to bounce off his bicep in the midst of his snickers.

“I’d feel bad for you if you had tried to be subtle about it,” Tengen teases, leaning in closer until your faces are centimetres apart. When he sees your flushed expression, he shakes his head and rests his right cheek on his fist. “I can’t blame ya for failing though, it was hard for me too.”

You sit upright. “Wait, what?”

“Y’re pretty ditzy today, eh?”

You’re tempted to slash the charming smirk off his face. For the first time since the conversation started, you lock eyes with him (albeit having to almost painfully crane your neck to do so). From the way he maintains your gaze and lets you witness the boyish glint in his eyes, you’re convinced he isn’t lying to you with what he’s implying.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while now,” he admits, stretching his arms. “So I’m glad you’re not threatened by the idea.”

You purse your lips. “How are you going to deal with four wives?”

Tengen glances at you from the corner of his eye, grinning. “You mean it’s harder than handling three? My wives are my partners, not liabilities. You’d be no different.”

You lower your head to hide your impending smile, though he catches your expression even when you don’t think he does. If anything, he’s eager to witness more of your excitement. He finds it adorable that you can barely look him in the eye, even when he gets on one knee in front of you. He’s not proposing - your conversation already acted as one - instead, he wants to see your face. Tengen wants to see what he’s doing to you.

“Ring or necklace?” He asks.

You contemplate it before telling him your choice.

“Consider it done.”

KYOJURO RENGOKU.

“You must eat,” Rengoku tells you in that booming voice of his. He’s already scoffing down two of the bentos that had been provided to him by the cooks, but you had barely touched your food. You were starving, but your nerves overshadowed your hunger.

“I will,” you nod.

A minute goes by and all that is heard is Rengoku’s small comments on the food; tasty, yummy, delicious, incredible. Whenever he stares at you, you nod and smile along with him, but you notice his smile drop slightly further every time he does look at you.

“Is something the matter?” He chimes in, disturbing your racing thoughts. At this point, he’s stopped eating and is just waiting for you to answer, but for the past ten minutes you had been trying to plot how to go about telling him. I’ll never end up telling him at this point, you realise. So, you sip some of your water, place it back down on the coaster and lift your head to face him directly.

“I like you, Rengoku.”

For a moment, it’s silent. “And I don’t want that to make what we have weird, I even considered not telling you because I don’t wanna lose you, but if I don’t tell you it feels like I’m lying to you–”

“You stress too much,” he smiles, watching your throat bob as you swallow thickly. The flame hashira can sense your impending tears and feels oddly honoured that he had the ability to make them happy or sad ones.

Now that you reflect on what you’ve just done, you perhaps should have waited until the two of you - or he at least - had finished eating. Feelings like this are hard to stomach, especially from one hashira to another. While you’re contemplating your confession, you feel his gaze burn into you and, somehow, you find the strength within yourself to not avoid it.

“I’m sorry, I’ll pay for our food as compensation–”

“Compensation for what?” He laughs, your heart aching at the sight of such a brightly lit expression. “If anything, I need to eat more from how overjoyed I am.”

You pause. “Overjoyed?”

“That might be an understatement, but I can’t find the words at the moment,” he admits, that smile still stuck on his face. What you had yet to realise throughout these two years was that Rengoku had admired you the most out of everyone he had met. Yes, Tengen was flashy and Tokito was level-headed, but out of all the esteemed hashira, his flame had been ignited the most around you. Only now could he let it burn as it wished.

“I like you too, very much.”

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA.

“Stop looking like that,” he taps the blunt side of his katana on your arm, knocking you out of your daze - the daze you had been in the entirety of this dispatch. It wasn’t anything major, a few rowdy demons that have been unsettling the village near to the woods you were currently in, but Sanemi had insisted that he accompany you for it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, sheathing your own katana after having wiped it clean of blood.

Sanemi eyes you for a moment. He knows you’re mature enough to handle yourself and manage your emotions, though he’s come to realise that it doesn’t mean you should be left to do so. So, the scarred hashira doesn’t prod further. Not until you fail to register the unexpected demon launching at you from behind, teeth bared and eyes maniacal.

“You’re askin’ to be killed, damn it!” He finally yells, his brows furrowed from the sheer adrenaline and anxiety he just endured. Sanemi never truly yells at you unless he’s unmistakably upset, so his raised voice makes your lips part and your eyes widen with a late registry of what risk you had induced.

“You wanna be in your feelings? Fine, just don’t do it when you’re out to work! At this rate, we’ll need backup just to make sure your reckless ass is bein’ protected with those villagers!” He’s breathing heavily at this point, his face in yours as he heaves and trembles.

Sanemi is still unsettled even when the two of you finally return to base, washing up and filling your stomachs during the last few hours before you’d call it a day. When you wander out into the pond gardens, your arms crossed over your chest to shield yourself from the night’s breeze, you almost turn the other direction when you spot Sanemi squatting at the edge of one of the smaller pools of water. He’s skipping rocks, watching them dance across the water, or occasionally fail to do so and fall into the pond or onto a lilypad instead.

“Don’t try and avoid me now,” he sighs guiltily, observing his reflection in the water momentarily before rising to his feet and turning to face you. “I shouldn’t…” he scratches the back of his neck. He’s not used to apologising for something he usually does so casually. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he confesses.

“No, I’m glad you did,” you admit, licking your lips. “I like you too much for you to act like you don’t care about me. You’ve noticed, surely.”

Sanemi isn’t sure he has noticed. That thought alone made him kiss his teeth - had he been so distracted by his own feelings to notice yours? The question raided his mind for a few moments while you, unbeknownst to him, watched as his lips pursed and his cheeks flushed a light pink.

Was he seriously blushing? This is so uncharacteristic of him, you think, a smile finally gracing your lips for the first time that day. For a moment, you’re more invested in him blushing than you are in the acknowledgement that he reciprocates your feelings.

He walks over to you, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes. He doesn’t stop until his chest almost touches yours and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath. “I’m g’nna kick your ass for today,” he scoffs. “After I take you out…” he almost looks angry at his own embarrassment.

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[pinacoladamatata]

I am once again thinking about Solas and how his potential arc this game could go regarding the Veil being up or down and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure [spoilers obviously] I don't like being intelligent/thoughtful on here I prefer to be stupid but here we go

In [yet another] article that came out, idk? today? Mark Darrah says the story "allows us to, hopefully, give a good conclusion to all the varied attitudes toward Solas that are going to be coming from people who love Solas, who agree with Solas, who hate Solas, people who want to kick Solas off of a building – I think that we give you the opportunity to bring that to a close, but then tell a greater story about The Veilguard and about the world as a whole."

and I don't know what to fucking think about this? They obviously know people's opinions are varied and I think it should be obvious that this is not a case where 'one ending fits all'

Because like, he is such a tragic character and I know there's gonna be an option to kill him, calm down, before you start in my inbox with "I WANT TO KILL HIM" like, you will be able to, that's kind of...almost a certainty. Especially for low approval Inquisitor/swore to stop him at all costs. Because if he Won't agree to stop trying to tear down the veil and causing mass destruction, (even after dealing with Elgarnan and Ghilly) then you'll have to kill him. Even trapping him forever isn't really an option because he created the fucking veil, man's crafty, he'd eventually find a way out. Like, If he will not and cannot see reason, then you, the protagonist, will have to end him.

It's the OTHER option that has me spinning because, you could, maybe, potentially, hopefully, talk him out of it. And if you did that, either as a romanced or friendly Inquisitor, or apparenty? Rook? based on this new info that Solas and Rook are going to have a lot of interaction, then he doesn't NEED to die. If he stops wanting to tear down the veil, he could potentially just disappear and do whatever he wants, like nerd out over magic.

And honestly, having him die on both paths is such a slap in the face for "your choices matter" because like clearly they do not if that happens; like what was the point of making me choose at the end of trespasser? If the only difference is 'stop Solas at all costs' leads to a boss fight where you kill him and 'redeem Solas' leads to ? him dying anyway somehow? Like I'm sorry but that is lazy and boring. His redemption should not end in death, he should have to live and deal with the consequences, because that could be so much more interesting.

[because I'll be real, I don't think they're going to let us have the option to tear down the veil/side with him AND have the option to keep the veil up. I think it will be one or the other no matter your choices; Simply because there is too much of a massive difference between world states of 'killed Solas to prevent him taking down the veil Thedas remains status quo' VS 'let Solas take down the veil, Thedas is now fundamentally different in an almost inconceivable way'. Like the setting for any future games depend on this; you would have to create 2 very different games. There has to be some uniformness to the world state, like; the veil remains, but it's thinned or whatever and the people of Thedas are living life more or less as usual if they ever want to make DA5. Would be wild of them do go the route of no matter what you do the veil comes down anyway. Which would be annoying if you swore to stop Solas at all costs and he just... succeeds anyway, even if he dies? Of course, there is Sandals prophecy, which I think is about the events of DA4. And devs have said in the past they had 'something' planned since Origins. "One day the magic will come back - all of it. Everyone will be just like they were" - The veil coming down and everyone gaining magic? Not just elves but humans, dwarves and qunari too? "The shadows will part and the skies will open wide" - Talking about the veil coming down?? Do shadows represent the abyss? "When he rises, everyone will see" - I'm actually convinced this is about Elgar'nan, or, something even worse; like the 'thing' that Mythal locked away, that the "evanuris in their greed could unleash" that "would destroy us all". So I think the end of DA:TV will be either the veil stays in place no matter what, or the veil comes down no matter what, which is, idk, interesting? Because again, they can't have both- that just gets too messy for the setting for the next game. They could have the veil come down no matter what, but, you would need to have a "better option" as Varric and Solas put it. Which, let's say for narrative purposes, this option exists and we tell it to Solas and he goes "Okay let's do that instead" and it results in a world state where the veil is 'down' but not in a catastrophic mega-calamity way. Even then though, some players are just not going to pick that and also if the veil comes down; what the fuck are we guarding it for???? I think it might come down temporarily. Maybe we have to make a new one? a better one? we have our fade tamagotchi fen'harel who happens to be the only fucker who knows how to make a veil too. Could this 'better veil' alleviate some of the problems Solas had with the old one? If there was like a set door way that allowed people and spirits to pass safely? One that didn't cause so much discord between spirits/people? Is our Veilguard a Fade TSA? I can dream. But who knows. Either way, I think we're only getting one endgame worldstate regarding the veil.

So; OK, back to Solas and how the fuck that could end. Harking back to that Varric/Solas conversation about the old man living alone. Solas is clearly speaking as though he is the old man, and he can't fathom just living a quiet life when there are literal world ending gods waiting for a weak moment to bust free. He Will not, Cannot stand by and do nothing while he knows his prison is failing. He HAS to at least deal with the 2 evanuris before tearing down the veil bc he doesn't want them to cause harm. He didn't want that before (hence locking them away) and he doesn't want it now, even for modern day Thedas (hence him helping Rook). He's got such a fucking heart under all that armor. He cares about people, he demonstrates it again and again. But my god what if, he finally *sees* that the veil may not have been a mistake, it doesn't need to be torn down, (maybe it has to be remade, better?or just altered?) and then us the protag, no longer has to kill him to stop him from tearing it down?

Like, I am very partial to the "what if love changes everything" trope especially for such a tragic character. Bc he's got death flags left and right; "I walk the dinanshiral" "there is only death on this journey" "this does not end in my downfall" his "dying alone" fear tombstone, and he's lonely he's miserable he's afraid. I'm so worried they'll kill him off anyway bc 'he was always doomed' trope and it would be easier to write, but motherfuck it would just, be SO so satisfying if, instead, there was a path where he wasn't doomed; whether it's bc of Rook or the Inquisitor or a combo of both. I feel like what if, either platonic or romantic; if there was just at least one path where love changes everything.

ofc this is massive amounts of copium and I don't expect bioware to give me anything so cool as "the veil starts to come down anyway and you, Rook, have to rebuild it with Solas' and the Inquisitor's help and at the end you can either kill him or convince him that this world is worth living in"

but hey, i can dream ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[rollinouttahere-writes]

I feel like Yandere Katakuri wants kids but would use IVF with his sperm because he's afraid of hurting his Darling. Corazon would respect your choice no matter you want. Doffy is giving you a baby whatever you want one or not. Crocodile it's hard to say. Buggy maybe. Rob Lucci would probably do that to control you. Paulie wouldn't. Kaku? Yes he wants kids. Ace and Yamato (they're a package deal): would want kids but if you're scared then Yamato could be the surrogate.

I agree with Katakuri doing IVF or artificial insemination for his darling because that's literally the only way to do that without killing them if they're a normal size. Katakuri would be extremely doting throughout the pregnancy and is openly excited about the baby.

Corazon wouldn't force you, but he gets this longing look in his eyes whenever he sees someone with a baby in public and looks like a kicked puppy.

I have touched on Doflamingo as a dad here. In a scenario where he chooses to have a kid with his darling, it is not optional or up for debate. You should just be grateful that he's "blessing" you with the opportunity to help continue his bloodline.

Crocodile is very on the fence about it. On one hand, the idea of raising a child has basically no appeal to him, but at the same time it feels like a shame to not have an heir to pass down his life's work and achievements to.

Buggy staunchly says that he doesn't want or even like kids, but then he has a whoopsie-baby and now being a dad is his entire personality.

I firmly believe that Lucci is the most child free looking man I've ever seen. He has zero interest in having children of his own, and he's strong enough to not need a baby to control his darling.

Paulie is another fence sitter. He wouldn't mind having kids, but he's hesitant to bring it up. He gives me girl dad vibes and would be a complete push over for them.

Kaku is dying to have a family of his own, but he's at least flexible with how he acquires it. He would be just as happy to adopt children as he would be to have biological ones.

Ace is terrified of reproducing. If he has a biological child, it was a genuine accident and he feels like he's going to have a heart attack when he gets the news. Yamato is very neutral on children. He likes them, but he was fine with not having any after seeing how stressed out Ace got when the subject was broached.

[ushiwakatrash]

The Bakusquad as Roommates

A/N: Hey babes, it's been a while! I've been so busy will college so I really couldn't write. But, yeah, I'm (kinda) back <3333

!Warning!: may contain suggestive themes, smoking (weed too)

According to the new rules, UA has decided to place two people per room.

(This deviates from the original plot line)

Bakugou Katsuki 爆豪 勝己

Did not like the thought of sharing his space with someone random but as per UA's orders, what choice did he have?

Very clean and very strict about house rules

Will constantly nag about how you can't do chores right

Your first weeks were a disaster. He was so scary and so intimidating, you thought he was the concentrated essence of evil

He's blunt and mean, but you figure out he just has a hard time expressing himself

One morning, he cooked breakfast for you but went with lame excuses like "I accidentally cooked too much." or "You look dead so fuckin' eat!"

Since then you went along with his shitty excuses and used them when giving him dinner

"Bakugou, you can have this 'cause I don't feel like eating anymore." or "They looked good so I bought twice as much for, uh, no reason at all."

Seeing your efforts in trying to be a good roomie, he warmed up to you eventually

Now y'all just argue like an old couple

Kirishima Eijirou 切島 鋭児郎

Looks tough, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

A literal angel

Day 1: friends

Day 2: besties

Day 3: you would take a bullet for him

He’s kinda messy and his punching bag takes a lot of space but hey, no one’s perfect

He always waits for you before he eats, and always saves you a plate when you’re running late because of extra training

You seek each other for comfort. Especially when Kiri feels insecure about how his quirk isn’t flashy or how he thinks it won’t make him a top hero one day

You, of course, would never want or let him think that way. It will never be a chore to remind him how he’s so strong and sturdy and how his muscles are hot

You know how much potential he has so if you have to repeat it a thousand times again and again, so be it

MUST PROTECT THIS CINNAMON ROLL

Kaminari Denki 上鳴電気

Had the idea of the old ‘bucket of water on top of the door’ prank as a big welcome to his roomie

What he didn’t calculate is that you have very sharp and fast reflexes.

Before the bucket falls on you, you hit it and the water splashes on Denki

Both of you were stunned at first but you recovered quickly and said “feeling cold, sparky?” with such a smug smirk

His face instantly got red and he stormed out of the room with comical tears shouting ‘MEANIE!!’

An hour later he returns, 2 popsicles in his hands. He hands you one as an apology and both of you reconcile, even if it’s his entire fault

You both get in trouble for blasting heavy metal at 3 in the morning MULTIPLE TIMES

The two of you made an agreement to do this ritual with headphones on because Mr. Aizawa had threatened to make you switch rooms

Sero Hanta 瀬呂範太

Ah, the potheads unite

It was a secret that you tried to keep under wraps since but the your roomie figured you out instantly

At first you both just shared vapes, trying out different flavors the both of you would buy

until you saw a bag in the bathroom that had an oh so familiar scent

You confronted Sero about it but he just gave you a 'what's the big deal' look so you shrugged it off

a few nights later he invited you for a session and you obliged, only if he kept it hush

this has been a routine since you could remember and Aizawa has never suspected you. I don't know about Mr. tape man though.

Ashido Mina 芦戸 三奈

There was no adjustment period for the both of you whatsoever

You both became instant besties and shared EVERYTHING

from skincare to clothes to maybe thongs at times but hey, girls do that shit

As if being roommates wasn't enough, you still hung out after class hours

Mina has been your greatest support system especially with boy trouble

Break a man's heart and she's as proud as any mother could be

Your heart is broken? A tub of ice cream and shitty movies are ready for you

She loves you like her own sister and constantly worries for you

Honestly the best roomie in town

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

[raayllum]

like Callum made the right choice in 5x08 for his character and the thematic narrative. Thematically, Rayla cannot permanently die (she's too sacrificial) nor can she have a partner, honestly, who'd be willing to sacrifice her like that. Callum also cannot be willing to sacrifice her like that for the life of a stranger dragon he's never met, or not take the dark magic risk; not only is this how he's always clearly been ever since S1 ("But not everything [has changed]: I would do anything for you") but doing so would make him exactly like the worst of Viren: "If you have to choose between [the world] or your brother, pick the egg." Callum is having a dark path arc, but he's not having an antagonist or villain arc.

That said, there's a reason Callum is Chained Up when he gives the spell and locked in a damp dark brig and has to use the snake-chain spell specifically, because TDP loves its irony: what gets more ironic than freeing yourself from chains in order to free and save your girlfriend, when you know in doing so you're chaining yourself further and further to the main villain and his will in doing so? When you know that you would?

There's a reason 5x08 ends with Callum looking scared and sad and the shot of the snakes, because those aren't fun things (hi Ocean arcanum epiphany) to learn or fully accept about yourself. There's a reason that what characters justify with "I had no choice" or "this is the right thing to do" isn't always the literal case. "I had to, to save my friends" or you could've left it. You could've tried something else than dark magic. But you didn't, because you thought that was the one thing you could do in order to not lose your friend, so you did it; You Made Your Choice.

For example, if we're talking what happened in 5x08 in a "this would keep The World 100% safe" type of deal? Callum fucked up twice. He gave the spell and he didn't know Finnegrin would be dead or unable to use it by episode's end. He did dark magic — with no idea that it wouldn't let Aaravos automatically possess him in that moment — because a world where he didn't even try and save her was worse to him. But it was a risk! Both of those things were massive risks!

Just because they didn't amount to the extreme consequences they could have had, yet, doesn't mean that they won't, since soo much of TDP is just "this thing had unforeseen/unwanted consequences as a result of the choices you made" (the loss of Rayla's team, Harrow's death, Sarai's death, the possession at all, Karim's banishment, Zubeia's corruption, Claudia's 5 season long descent, and I'm sure going to the Starscraper next season, just to name a few quick examples off the top of my head). As Harrow says:

H: But I do know I will pay the price for the choices I've made. I've done terrible things. I thought they were necessary. Now I don't know.

Rayla thought she had to leave; she didn't. Rayla thought she had to find Viren, twice; that wasn't true. She chose to leave both times. She also chose to come back both times. She could've doubled down, but she didn't. Viren, finally, didn't.

Every step forward is a choice.

That's true for Every Single Character in the show.

To deny them that is to deny the agency they do have in the circumstances they find themselves in; Soren could've not stabbed his father, Terry could've chosen to tackle rather than stab Ibis, Viren could've chosen to grieve his son. That doesn't mean they didn't have good reasons to do the things they were doing, that doesn't mean their justifications weren't strong, that doesn't mean they were necessarily wrong to do so. But they made Choices.

So did Callum. And he chose what regrets, sacrifices, and losses he could live with, in order to save the person he decided he couldn't live without.

It's that simple, and that complicated.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: After losing your job and being falsely imprisoned, you turn to the Twins for help—which eventually stirs up unspoken feelings.

Genre: hurt and comfort 🤍

Warnings: murder, blood, prison, alludes to depression, canon like violence, gun wounds, protective!Tangerine, swearing,

~ @j23r23 thank you so much for requesting, my darling! hope you like this one! ~

The winter air feels much colder than it had in a while. You sigh, taking in your surroundings and you frown when you see them.

They're parked not far away from you, both of them leaning against their car like some good-for-nothing gangsters (which you suppose they kinda are).

Lemon is the one who sees you first. He nudges his brother, causing Tangerine to look up from the ground and shift when he sees you. You suddenly feel insecure. You must look like a shell of yourself, your eyes darkened from the few years you'd spent in prison. You don't know if you want them to see you like this but you don't have much of a choice because Lemon waves you over and you walk up to them. 

"Hi," Lemon says and pulls you into his arms for a moment. He rests his hand on your shoulder and he looks sympathetic. "How're holdin' up?" He asks seriously and he doesn't comment on how exhausted and beaten down you must look.

It had been a long three years.

You nod, afraid to speak in case your voice sounds different. Lemon smiles weakly and looks up at Tangerine, who's unusually calm—especially for this situation. You turn to him and see him hesitate. You strain a smile and then he pulls you in his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You're frozen in place.

God, he still smells the same. 

"No one hurt ya in there, did they?" Tangerine whispers roughly, his arms tightening. 

You shake your head and he pulls away, concern evident in his eyes from your lack of verbal communication. You have always been so talkative and bubbly and now you're some sad girl Tangerine doesn't m recognize. It breaks his heart. 

 You're quiet as you sit in their car. You can faintly hear Lemon and Tangerine's hushed whispers but you don't pay them any mind. You look outside at the passing cars and open the window, feeling the air on your skin. You missed this.

When you realize they're pulling up to your apartment complex, you frown and lean forwards. "What are we doing here?" you ask, your voice strained. It's the first thing you've spoken to them.

"What do you mean? You're home," Lemon shrugs and exits the car. Tangerine follows him and you do too. You stand in front of your apartment door, feeling your lip wobble. 

"But–I didn't–I couldn't pay for all this in jail," you whisper. 

"Yeah, we know so we paid for it for ya," Tangerine sniffs nonchalantly and he puts his hands in his pockets, "T'wasn't a problem." 

You look at them both, feeling embarrassing tears water your eyes and you cover your mouth to hide any equally embarrassing noise.

Both Lemon and Tangerine don't know how to deal with your sudden shift in emotion so Lemon, being the brother who is more in touch with his emotions, simply holds you. You feel warm and safe in his arms.

Once your tears have finally calmed down, you find yourself sitting around your dinner table, your eyes round as you look at both of the brothers. You can see the plant you loved so much isn't dead—they'd even taken care your plants.

Lemon stirs his tea, while Tangerine looks at you from across the table. His eyes glance across all your features, as if he's still making sure you're truly okay. 

"I want to kill him," you suddenly say, catching them by surprise. 

"You want to kill who, luv?" Tangerine frowns, crossing his legs.

"My uncle. He's the reason all this happened, isn't he? I had a promising career in MI6. I was excellent at my job and then some asshole—who's already dead mind you—framed me because my uncle asked him to? And then he just sat around as my life burned into nothing," you rant, your voice strained, "I have nothing anymore. No promising job, no dignity, and all I have are two criminals I accidentally became friends with from a pub years ago," you rub your eyes in annoyance, "no offense."

"Some taken," Lemon narrows his eyes at you and then grunts when Tangerine kicks his shin. 

Tangerine understands. He really does. You'd lost everything because of your uncle. He knew how much you loved your job, how much you loved doing the right thing. Now, you were disgraced and your only friends were criminals.

Yeah…Tangerine definitely understood. 

"Are you sure murdering him is gonna make ya feel any better, darlin'?" he asks cautiously. Tangerine knows your moral compass so well he'd even judged you for it when you'd first met. You don't kill—you aren't a killer—and that's one of the reasons he's so drawn to you. 

You're a good person.

You nod. "Yeah, I'm sure. And I'm asking you for help, not your permission. I'll find a way to do it either way," you say and Tangerine sends Lemon a look. Lemon shrugs at his brother. 

"I'm game. I never liked that fuckin' bastard." 

Tangerine sighs and looks at you. He can't exactly say no now because that would make him the arsehole. So he just nods. 

* * *

Tangerine knew this was a bad fuckin' idea—especially sending you in alone—because he can hear you sobbing into your mic. He can't see you but he hears your desperation as you confront your uncle in his fancy, million-dollar home as he and Lemon wait outside, listening in to the entire conversation through their ear-pieces.

It's killing him.

"Calm down will you, cupcake, you're not making any sense," your uncle's condescending tone rings through Tangerine's ears and his hand tightens around his gun. 

"Don't you dare call me that," you hiss, "I'm not ten anymore. I trusted you with that information about the mole—I just never imagined you would have been the mole in the first place and then that you would plan my imprisonment! I fucking trusted you—you piece of shit!"

Tangerine hears some commotion and steps forwards but Lemon puts a hand out to stop him from intervening. 

"You don't know when to stay down, do you, girl?" your uncle's menacing voice cuts into Tangerine's earpiece, a little less loud than yours, and it sounds as if he's speaking to some animal—which makes Tangerine's blood boil and his jaw clench. 

"Bruv, calm down," Lemon warns his brother in a whisper, "Ya gotta keep a cool head. She can handle herself."

"Ya, I know, but she shouldn't have to," Tangerine hisses, his hand clenching around his gun. 

Suddenly, they both hear your squeal, accompanied by a loud crash and in an instant, Tangerine and Lemon are breaking into your uncle's house.

"Y/n!" Tangerine screams without thinking, skidding into the living room where he sees that your uncle has shoved you into his bookshelf, causing a bunch of pictures to crash to the ground. 

Your eyes widen when you see Tangerine. He whips his head around just in time to see your uncle aiming a gun at his chest. He inhales, his arm lifting to shoot his own weapon when he feels you collide with his shoulder, sending him falling sideways as three loud gunshots ring around the house.

One from his gun, one from your uncle's, and one from Lemon's. 

With a grunt, Tangerine lands on his shoulder, his eyes widening when he sees your uncle's body crash to the ground; blood oozing from his head and his thigh. Tangerine pats his chest for any sign of injury and immediately he feels like the biggest asshole because he remembers you had pushed him away. 

His head snaps around and his breath leaves him. You're barely standing, your hands clutching at your side where your uncle's bullet had punctured you. Immediately, Tangerine jumps to his feet just in time to catch your crumbling form as you lean against his body and grasp at his arm.

"Tan," you whimper, your chest rising and falling rapidly as blood seeps through your blouse.

"Fuck," Lemon exclaims, holstering his smoaking gun and rushes to your other side. 

"She fuckin' jumped in front of me," Tangerine sounds panicked as his hand pushes back some of your hair, his cheeks hot and his eyes burning. He feels tears run down his cheeks. "Hey, hey, sweetheart, you're okay," he says as he pressed a hand over yours to put more pressure on the wound, his heart breaking at the small sounds of pain you make. 

"She'll be okay, it's just a graze," Lemon insists, his voice shaky as if he's convincing himself.

Tangerine continues to stroke your hair, soothing you from any pain you could be experiencing. "It's my fault," his voice trembles, "I should have taken that bullet—darlin', why did you push me out of the way?" 

Your eyelids flutter and he can see you can't comprehend what he's telling you. 

You need a doctor. Now. 

* * *

When you wake, you're in a warm fluffy bed. You sit up, leaning your head against the headboard as your eyes adjust to the sunlight in the room. You startle when you feel a pair of calloused hands on your cheek, turning your head gently, and then you're staring into the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen. 

"You're awake," his voice is husky and there is an inflection that indicates a lack of sleep. His brown hair is a mess and he looks unusually unkempt. He doesn't look like the man you know. He looks concerned—vulnerable.

"What happened?" you say, not recognizing the sound of your voice. You cough.

"Your uncle shot you—well—he tried to shoot me but you saved me, darlin'. You're my hero," Tangerine says and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. His lips linger longer than they should and you savor the feeling. "Only, next time you let me handle the bullet, ya understand me?"   

You smile and sit up again, touching your bandaged side. Tangerine pushes some hair away from your eyes and shushes you, "Shh, don't move too much," he reprimands sweetly.

"Who did this?" you ask, mentioning how well someone had patched you up. 

"Lem knows someone. He was careful with ya, I made sure of it." 

Your heart swells as you hide a smile. "You stayed?"

Tangerine caresses his knuckles down your cheek. "Course I stayed, luv. I wouldn't let some rando care for you all alone," he scrunches his nose and sniffs, "I don' know the bloke. Had to make sure you were safe, yeah?" 

You stare at him and it's as if all your worries melt into nothing. His touch is so gentle and you've never felt safer than by his side.

You know should have done something about your feelings a long long time ago, when everything was normal. When you had a job and everything was good and right. Now the only thing that feels good and right is his hand on your cheek. 

"I missed you," you say, meaning every word so much your heart might leap at him. 

Tangerine nods. "I missed ya too, darlin'."

You take a breath.

"Tan," you start, building up your courage, "I- I have something I want to tell you. I love you. I've loved you for years a-and I don't want to hide my feelings anymore. Not when I almost died."

Tangerine looks shell-shocked, his pupils blown wide as he takes in your words. You love him? He feels like he's in a dream and when he'll eventually wake up he'll puke all over himself from the butterflies in his stomach. 

"Don't think they were well hidden, sweetness," Lemon interrupts from the doorway. "Ya took a bullet for him. I only take bullets for people I really love." 

"Shut up," Tangerine hisses at his brother, "Go away."

Lemon raises his arms in surrender and adds. "Don't pretend like yours were well hidden either, bruv. This wanker talked about ya every day when you were in the slammer. Such a fuckin' chatter box all 'f sudden." Tangerine looks like he wants to chuck his shoe at Lemon but he restrains himself. When he looks at you, you're staring at him. 

"You talked about me?" you whisper, smiling. 

"All the time," Tangerine admits, his voice small. "I really missed you."

"He cried himself to sleep—"

"Alright, seriously, what the fuck are ya? A fuckin' parrot repeating everything I say and do? Get out," Tangerine snaps at Lemon and points to the door. Lemon makes talking animations with his hands and rolls his eyes at his brother before he finally leaves the room. 

"You talked about me?" you repeat, more teasing in your tone as Tangerine focuses on you again. 

He blushes. "I just told'ya I did," he says, embarrassed. He takes your hand and runs his thumb over your palm. "I couldn't stand knowing you were all alone in there—with a bunch of criminals—so I talked about ya because I couldn't talk to ya." 

"You could have—" you begin but Tangerine interrupts you with a shake of his head and a  squeeze of your hand. 

"Darlin', it was too dangerous'. Believe me if I could have, I would have. But, neither Lem or I wanted them coppers to know you were associated with criminals like us. If ya don't think we have a record, yer dead wrong," he chuckles darkly, "We're bad men, doll. Bad men. And you're such a good girl—so righteous and smart and a top agent—"

"Was a top agent," you huff and adjust your sitting position. "'M not anymore. I'm a released criminal now—plus, I just killed my uncle so that means I'm also a killer."

"Lemon killed your uncle," Tangerine says matter-of-factly. 

"I wanted him dead," you say, " and I'm happy that bastard is gone and more importantly, I'm glad I took this bullet for you because look, I'm fine and I would have rather I died than you because I—"

"I love you too," Tangerine finishes your sentence with such intensity, saving you from any more rambling. "I love you so damn much. Seeing you hurt almost killed me." 

He leans in and moves to kiss your forehead but you move your arms, ignoring the pain in your side as you do so, and tilt your head so his lips hit yours instead. Tangerine is surprised by your boldness and the feel of your lips on his but he melts into the kiss instantly. Gently, his arms wrap around your waist and he holds you close to him. 

You can feel every bit of love he has inside him pouring from his touch and lips. He's worshiping you as if he'd been born to do so and he kisses you more passionately. Once he disconnects his lips, he presses his forehead against yours. "Can we make a deal?" he whispers, his breath ragged and harsh. 

You nod, holding both of his cheeks in your hand. 

"From now on, neither one of us gets shot, okay?" Tangerine says with a hint of vulnerability. "Because my poor heart can't handle anymore of this, luv," he looks you over and finally kisses your forehead like he'd initially planned. 

"Okay, Tan, it's a deal."

[fanaticsnail]

Sending love to that anon who is on the Yandere Doffy cruise with me, but also how dare you make it angsty 😭😭 but also, I love that. Make it fluffy then make it angsty! A perfect concoction. And then Snail adding the Impel Down? How about you just let Law take my heart instead and crush it, it would hurt less 😭😭

Following that Reader gets ill idea, you know who is the only doctor in the world who can help Reader if she gets ill?

You know WHO is the only one who can probably completely heal Reader?

LAW.

Fucking.

LAW.

(cackles)

Ohohohoho the plot thickens!

Would Doflamingo actually ask Law to heal Reader? Law's is the only fruit that can do it. Doflamingo just realising that would be so fckn AMAZING. The shock, the internal conflict, the fckn anger that Law is the only doctor left who has the HIGHEST chance of healing Reader...

This could be pre-Dressrosa Arc, hell this could be the reason Doflamingo surrenders during Dressrosa Arc because Law heals Reader right in front of Doflamingo, who is literally holding her while she has a fever. (I know, very unlikely but hey, let Doffy be desperate, as a treat.)

It could be that after he beats Law in their first fight after Law wakes up Doflamingo takes him to give a diagnosis on Reader, and Law is shooketh.

Also, add Reader being a mother figure to Law, being kind to him and thanking him and apologizing for Doffy and she is so sorry and Law is getting reminded of his mom now and is literally having a lump in his throat and this 26-year-old grump is about to CRY as he looks through Reader's medical charts left by the other doctors and all check-ups.

Maybe Law's doctor mode just TURNS ON. He isn't even thinking it, he offers to help with his Devil Fruit but in exchange Doflamingo has to surrender or at least let Reader go.

Doflamingo is not on board. He's gonna force Law to use Room if he has to.

Luffy is on board (if it's Dressrosa Arc), bless his soul, he even says he'll kick Law's ass if he harms Reader since he is reminded of watching Ace die or reminded of Nami being sick and him being helpless.

Would Doflamingo accept the deal? Yes? No?

Knowing Doffy he'll go like "I'll just force Law to heal her." in his Big Brain Moment™

And the Impel Down addition, ugh, fuck, my heart.

But Law healing Reader and Doflamingo's internal struggle and pride... OHOHOHOHOHO. I am laughing evilly.

We are further sinking into the Yandere Doffy hole here.

No, don't send the ladder. We like it here.

CAN I JUST

AND LET ME JUST

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Okay, I love this so much. This is gonna end up as a series, I can tell. It's going to have to be. Yandere Doffy with a reader who doesn't want to be with him, getting sick and finally seeing a way towards freedom with Law offering it to them, AND DOFFY JUST MOURNING FOR HIS LOVE WHO WANTS TO LEAVE HIM. JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

I freaking love the Yandere Doffy train going on in my ask box. This is getting me all giddy and giggly. I love this so so much. I'm in the hole next to you, bestie. I'm taking notes.

I am also digging the fact we're all like: "yessss bring Law into it. Have the tables turn."

You: "You have always been so kind to me. Even as a troubled child, you had the potential of turning out like either brother. He'd be so proud of you, your heart mirroring his even now."

Law: "You offered me no reason to harm you. You were one of the few that made my childhood bearable there. And... Thank you. All I've done, I've done in honour of Cora-san and to spite Doflamingo."

The Heart Pirates: "What the hell? Don't we hate Doflamingo? Why are we healing his spouse?"

You: "And where do I factor in? The honour or the spite?"

Law: "Both and neither. I honour Cora-san in offering you this kindness, and I spite Doflamingo in knowing you're released from his charge and allowed to make your choice to remain here or flee. It's up to you what you do."

The Heart Pirates: collective "ohhhhhh"

I love this so much. I can't wait to write it. Thank you for another Yandere Doffy prompt, it's fuelling me.

[lilithlinen]

Till Death Do Us Apart II - John Constantine x You

You grinned a bit and continued your ministrations, your fingers moving down to his neck and shoulders. “Is my plan working?” He took a deep breath, wincing as another coughing fit racked through his body. When he caught his breath, he spoke, his tone half-joking, half weary.  “Yeah, your plan is working great. Just a few more head massages and I’ll be all on board with chemo and radiation. No problem.” 

You weren’t fooled by his sarcasm. You could see the exhaustion and pain etched on his face, the way he winced as he spoke. You knew he was suffering, but his stubborn attitude was driving you crazy. You wanted to shake him, make him understand the urgency of the situation.

“Quit being a stubborn idiot. You’re killing yourself, John. You know damn well you need treatment.” 

His jaw clenched at your words, irritation and frustration flaring up. He knew you were right, but he refused to admit it. It was easier to be defiant than admit he was scared.

“I don’t need your damn guilt trips. I’ve made my choice, and I’m sticking to it.” 

He sat up a little straighter, a hint of anger in his voice, even as his body protested the movement and sent a wave of pain through him.

You matched his glare with one of your own, your frustration and worry boiling over.

“Your choice is going to get you killed. You’re stubborn, John, but this isn’t you being noble. This is plain stupidity. You’re just giving up.” 

You grabbed his arm, your grip tight.

“Don’t you dare make me a widow. You can’t do this to me. To us. To our son.” 

The mention of your son’s name hit him harder than any punch. He flinched slightly, the guilt and fear flashing in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare bring him into this. This has nothing to do with him. It’s my body, my choice.” 

He tried to pull away from your grip, but he didn’t have the strength to break free. His body was weak from the cancer, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. 

“End of discussion, Y/N. Once and for all.” 

You didn’t let go of his arm, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on tighter.

“End of discussion? You’re just going to throw your life away because you’re too damn stubborn to accept help. You’re being selfish, John. Selfish and cowardly. You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening.” 

You could see the pain and guilt in his eyes, but you refused to back down. You loved him, but you weren’t going to let him give up without a fight.

The accusation of being cowardly and selfish stung, and his face twisted into a mixture of anger and shame.

“Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t understand.” 

He pushed you off. He tried to get out of the bed but stumbled, his strength betraying him. He caught himself on the bedside table, his body protesting every movement. He was weakening, and he hated it. He hated the fact that you were pushing him, that you wouldn’t let him give up. He leaned against the wall, panting.

“Don’t you get it? I’m tired. I’m sick of fighting. I don’t want to go through that hell again. I can’t. If you truly love me…or whatever then let me fucking be!” 

Your heart ached, seeing him struggle to stand on his own was killing you.

“Let you be? Just be a martyr? Watch as you waste away and leave us behind? You’re being an idiot, John. You’re not thinking about our son, about me. This isn’t just about you.” 

You moved towards him, reaching out to support him, but he pushed you away again.

He was getting angrier now, lashing out like a wounded animal. He didn’t want pity, and he didn’t want your help. He wanted to be left alone to deal with this on his own.

“I didn’t ask for this, did I? I didn’t ask to get cancer again. So don’t you dare talk to me about being a martyr or being selfish. It’s my life, damn it!” 

He collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted from the exertion. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the coughing starting again.

You were torn between wanting to hold him and wanting to strangle him. He was being so stubborn, so damn difficult.

“Fuck you, John! You’re being so infuriating! It’s like talking to a wall. You’re being a stubborn jackass and you know it.” 

You knelt down in front of him, your hands on his thighs as you looked at him, pleading with him with your eyes.

“Please, for the love of God, stop being so damn stubborn. You need help. You need treatment.” 

He wanted to push you away, to keep you from getting close, but this damn woman knew his weak spots.

“Damn you... Why can’t you just let me be, huh? I don’t want your help. I don’t need it.” 

He tried to look away, but your eyes pulled him back. He hated the pleading look on your face, the desperation in your voice. He hated how much he still cared, how much he didn’t want to hurt you, how much he actually wanted your support.

He closed his eyes, his resistance crumbling.

“I’m tired, Y/N. I’m so damn tired...” 

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. The anger and defiance were still there, deep within him, but the facade was crumbling. He was just too exhausted to keep fighting you, to keep fighting his own body.

Your touch, your proximity, your concern, it was all overwhelming. His body sagged, all the fight seemingly leaving him.

“I don’t want to go through all that again... the pain, the meds, the weakness...” 

He pulled away slightly, searching your eyes for any hint of understanding.

“I just... I can’t, alright? I can’t go through that again.” 

You saw the moment his resistance broke, and your heart ached at the raw vulnerability on his face.

“And you think I’m not tired? I’m exhausted, love. Exhausted from watching you suffer. From watching you fade away. From worrying about you every damn day.” 

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your touch is gentle and loving.

“Please, John. You’re making this harder than it has to be. You can’t do this alone. Let people help you. Let me help you.”  

You pulled back to look into his eyes and when you saw that he wasn’t even looking at you, you sighed heavily and nodded slowly. 

“You won’t listen, huh?” 

John bristled at your words. He hated himself for making you worry, for making you feel exhausted and anxious. But damn you for guilt-tripping him. For knowing all his weak spots.

“Of course I won’t listen. I’m stubborn, remember?” 

He tried to sound defiant, but the vulnerability was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

“And I don’t need help. I can handle this.” 

You looked down and nodded reluctantly accepting his choice for now.

He expected you to argue more, to keep pleading with him. But when you nodded, something in your eyes shifted. It was resignation, acceptance. He felt a pang of guilt and worry at that.

“Wait... are you... accepting this? You’re not going to fight me anymore, are you?” 

He reached out and grabbed your hand, needing to feel you, needing your reassurance that you wouldn’t give up on him so easily. His gruff demeanor faltered, replaced with a hint of fear and uncertainty.

You let out a heavy sigh, your grip tightening on his hand. He was so damn stubborn, so damn afraid of letting people in. You wanted to shake him, make him realize that he needed help. But you also knew that pushing him too hard would only make him pull away more.

“I’m not giving up, you dumbass. But I can’t keep fighting you like this. It’s wearing me down, John.” 

You looked into his eyes, pleading with him once more.

“Please... just consider it. For me, and for our son.” 

The mention of your son’s name hit him like a punch to the gut again. He felt torn, his selfishness warring with his love for you and their son. He knew deep down that what he was doing was selfish, that he was being a damn idiot, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

“Fuck it, Y/N. You’re not making this easy, are you?” 

He closed his eyes, the guilt and frustration weighing heavily on him. He let out a long, weary sigh.

“Fine... fine, alright?” 

There was a hint of resignation in his voice, a hint of acceptance that he was outnumbered and out of options. He knew he couldn’t keep pushing you away, couldn’t keep fighting this battle on his own.

“I’ll... I’ll consider it. But I can’t promise anything, alright? It’s not easy for me to accept help...” 

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his stubborn pride and his love for you and your family. You knew how hard it was for him to admit weakness, to let anyone in.

“I know it’s not easy. And I’m not expecting you to change overnight. Just... just don’t shut me out completely, okay? Let me be here for you.” 

You reached out and took his face gently in your hands, making him meet your gaze.

His walls were slowly crumbling under your touch, your words. He hated how easily you could break through his tough exterior, expose the vulnerability and fear that he hid so well. But damn him, he loved you for it, too.

“I...I’ll try. I’ll try to let you in. It won’t be easy, you know that, right?” 

He looked at you, searching your eyes for reassurance, for understanding.

“Especially when you have been nagging non-stop for...how long, two days now? yeah.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that, your heart aching at the mixture of defiance and affection in his voice. You knew he was putting up a front, trying to make light of the situation, but you could also see the fear in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’re a stubborn ass who needs a little nagging every now and then. Can’t let you get away with everything, can I?” 

A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he let out a soft chuckle. Despite his resistance, he couldn’t deny that your humor was a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the situation.

“You think you can straighten me out, hm? Good luck with that one.” 

He reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch was strangely gentle.

“Why don’t you give me a couple of kisses right now, hm? I’m sick, remember?” 

He gave you a cocky grin, his attempt to deflect the seriousness of the situation with flirtation. He was trying to regain some semblance of control, to shift the focus away from his vulnerability.

“Come on, let me have a few kisses. It’s the least you can do for a dying man like me.” 

He reached out and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you didn’t resist his attempt to pull you closer. You could see the flicker of fear and vulnerability behind his cocky facade, and you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse him.

“Oh, you think you’re so charming, don’t you? Playing the dying man card to get a few extra kisses out of me.” 

You leaned in, your lips hovering just inches away from his.

His body reacted instinctively to your closeness, his heart rate quickening and his breath catching in his throat. He tried to maintain his cool demeanor, but he couldn’t quite hide the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

“If it works, it works. And I’d say it’s working pretty well right now.” 

He reached up to cup your chin, tracing his thumb along your jawline before gently pulling you even closer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his cheeky response, his words melting some of the tension that had grown between you.

“You’re such a smooth talker, aren’t you? But I suppose I can’t resist your charms, even when you’re being a stubborn ass.” 

You closed the remaining gap between you, capturing his lips in a soft, yet passionate, kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss, pouring all your love and concern into it.

He melted into your kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. He let out a soft moan at the feel of your body against his, the familiarity and comfort of your presence soothing his worries for a moment.

He returned the kiss with equal intensity, his lips moving hungrily against yours. For a brief moment, he forgot about the cancer, the fear, the uncertainty of your future together.

When you finally broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours, your breath mingling in the small space between you two.

He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you, breathing in your scent as he gathered his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t ignore the situation indefinitely, but he wasn’t ready to face it just yet.

“I...I don’t want to think about it, about any of it. Not tonight.” 

He nuzzled his face against your neck, his voice muffled against your skin.

“Just... just let me hold you tonight. No more talking about doctors or chemo or anything. Just you and me, okay?” 

You held him close, your fingers running through his hair soothingly. You understood his need to escape, to take a break from the reality of his situation. You wanted to give him that respite, even if it was only for one night.

“Okay. No more talking tonight. Just you and me.” 

You pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, your voice soothing and filled with love.

“Let me take care of you tonight. Let me show you how much I love you, John.” 

He clung to you like a drowning man, his strong facade crumbling under your tenderness. He felt a surge of gratitude and love for you, for your unwavering support and understanding.

“You always know how to take care of me, don’t you?” 

He pulled back slightly so he could look into your eyes, his own gaze betraying his vulnerability now.

“I…uh..I don’t deserve you, you know that? I don’t deserve someone as perfect and loving as you. But I’m selfish enough to keep you anyways.” 

You chuckled softly and shook your head in disbelief. “Yeah? so are you going to fuck me or what?” 

He arched an eyebrow at your unexpected question, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite the seriousness of the situation, he couldn’t help but find humor in your bluntness.

“What happened to taking care of me, huh? Thought you were gonna pamper me and treat me tenderly all night and all that...mushy shit.” 

You smirked back at him, your fingers trailing down his chest in a teasing manner.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. But I also know you well enough to know that sometimes you need... a little more than just tender love and care. Plus, it doesn’t sound like you.” 

He let out a deep chuckle, your touch sending shivers down his spine. He couldn’t deny that you knew him all too well.

“Ah, there it is. The sass and spice that I love so much.” 

He tugged you closer, his hands skimming down your hips and to your ass, giving it a possessive squeeze.

“And you’re right. I do need a bit more than just tendercare.” 

He dipped his head to plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat, his hands roaming your body eagerly. He was still weakened by his illness, but his desire for you burned strong.

He could feel your pulse quicken under his lips, and he smiled against your skin.

“You know just how to push my buttons, don’t you? How to get me all worked up and wanting you.” 

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed down your neck, your hips rolling against his involuntarily. You loved the way he could make you weak with his touch, how he could send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body with just a simple kiss.

“I could say the same about you, darling.” 

You reached up to grip his hair, your fingers tangling in his soft short locks as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck.

He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. He relished in the feel of you arching against him, your body responding so beautifully to his touch.

“You always did love when I marked you up, loved when everyone could see that you were mine.” 

He pulled away from your neck, his gaze raking over the hickeys he’d left behind with a satisfied smirk.

He continued his exploration of your body, his hands roaming over your curves with possessive caresses. His mouth trailed down your collarbone, his teeth grazing against your skin.

“I love how you respond to me, how your body craves my touch.” 

He reached up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple through your clothes.

You let out a gasp as his touch ignited a familiar ache within you. You pushed closer to him, your hands grasping at his shirt as you needed more contact, more of his touch.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me.”  You captured his lips in a heated kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth as you expressed your need for him in the only way you knew how.

He groaned into the kiss, his arms curling around you and pulling you tightly against him. He could feel your desire, your desire for him, and it only fueled his own. He returned the kiss with equal passion, his tongue tangling with yours as he fought for dominance.

“You drive me insane, you know?”  He tugged at your lower lip with his teeth, nipping it gently just the way he knew you liked it.

“You make me forget everything else. All I can think about is you.” 

You moaned and held onto him tightly, a few minutes passed and the next thing you know he is pounding into you and the headboard is slamming against the wall.

The sound of the headboard slamming against the wall echoed through the room, accompanied by the sounds of your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

He was relentless, his hips snapping against you with an intensity that matched his need for you. He wanted to possess you, to claim you as his own in the most primal way possible.

He growled in your ear, his voice low and raspy from exertion.

“Mine, you’re mine. You hear me?”  He continued his rhythm, his movements growing more frantic as he neared the edge of his limits. He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing your skin.

“You’re mine, do you understand? Nobody else can have you like this. Only I can make you feel this way.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly against him as his pace quickened, his body shuddering with each thrust.

You cried his name in pure ecstasy and pulled his face back to yours, kissing him hungrily as your bodies continued to move together in a perfect rhythm. 

“I do understand but you don’t, that’s what I have been trying to tell you...Ahh! That I don’t wanna be widowed you fucking idiot, I don’t want another man to touch me but you.”  He growled in response to your words, his movements growing more aggressive as he nipped at your lower lip.

“You think I want to leave you? You think I want anyone else to have you? I’ll burn the world down before I let that happen.” 

He punctuated his words with a deep thrust, his eyes locked onto yours as he watched you unravel beneath him. He wanted desperately to possess you, to keep you all to himself.

You let out another loud cry of pleasure and dug your nails into his back. 

“Fuuuuck, J-John slow down...you’re going to hurt yourself.”  You stared up at him in concern. He groaned at the feel of your nails raking down his back, the pain only adding to his pleasure.

“You think I care? I’ll take all the pain if it means having you like this.” 

He took you harder, faster, pushing you both to the edge. He saw the concern in your eyes but he couldn’t stop, not when he was so close. He felt as though he was losing himself in you and he didn’t care.

He could feel your body trembling beneath him as you both neared your orgasm. His movements grew more frenzied, more desperate, as he needed to claim you with everything he had.

“Cum for me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart in my arms.” 

He leaned down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he continued to pound his cock into you.

He could feel your pussy clenching around him, your cries of pleasure growing louder and more urgent. He knew you were close, he could feel it. With one final, deep thrust, he sent you over the edge.

“That’s it, love. Let go. Let me take care of you.”  He buried his face in your neck, his own climax cresting as he held you tightly against him. He was shaking, his body drained of energy but his mind and heart were still alive with love for you.

He collapsed beside you, his breathing heavy and labored. He pulled you into his arms, his fingers gently stroking your hair as he tried to catch his breath.

“God, I love you. I don’t tell you that enough.” 

He nuzzled your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin and let out a weary sigh that quickly turned into another coughing fit. You curled into his arms, your body still trembling with pleasure and the lingering effects of your lovemaking. You could feel his body shaking as the coughing fit passed, concern washing over you once more.

“John, you need to take better care of yourself. This isn’t the first time you’ve pushed yourself too far and you know it.” 

You reached up to touch his forehead, checking for any signs of another fever.

He brushed your hand away, a stubborn frown on his face. He hated being reminded of his health issues, especially when he was consumed by his desire for you.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I just got carried away. It was worth it, trust me.” 

He tried to play it off, but the weariness in his voice betrayed his exhaustion. He knew he wasn’t being honest, but he didn’t want you to fret over him again.

You eyed him skeptically, not convinced one bit. You knew how stubborn he could be, how reluctant he was to acknowledge his own limitations.

“Sure, it’s worth ending up in the hospital. Because that’s a real aphrodisiac.” 

You rolled your eyes, your concern manifesting as sarcasm. You pulled away from him slightly, folding your arms over your chest.

He huffed in irritation, not appreciating your sarcastic response. He knew you were right, of course. He was being reckless and stubborn as usual. But he hated feeling weak and helpless, especially in front of you.

“You’re a real buzzkill, you know that? I was trying to have a moment here and you just had to go and ruin it.”  

He grumbled, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt warring within him.

“You’re a hypocrite, you know that? Telling me not to worry and then hacking your lungs up right after.” 

You scooted closer and hugged his waist from behind, laying your head against his back. He sighed, the weight of your head against his back both comforting and irritating. He was torn between wanting to push you away and pull you closer.

“I’m not a hypocrite. I just don’t like feeling weak, okay? I’m the one who’s supposed to protect you, not the other way around.” 

He spoke softly, his irritation giving way to vulnerability. He reached back to run his fingers through your hair, the simple gesture a contradiction to his previous stubbornness.

You softened at his words, your irritation with him melting away.

“You’re a fucking idiot. You don’t need to be strong all the time. You’re allowed to be vulnerable around me. I won’t think you’re weak, I promise.” 

You wrapped your arms tighter around his waist, clinging to him like a freaking koala.

He let out another weary sigh, his stiff shoulders relaxing under your touch. He knew you were right, but his ego was a stubborn beast. It was hard for him to admit his weaknesses, even to you.

“I know, I know. I just...I don’t want to burden you. I don’t want you to have to worry about me all the time.” 

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, the vulnerability in his eyes telling you that he was struggling more than he would ever admit.

You grinned playfully and ducked her head forward, kissing him again and again and again. He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with both fondness and annoyance. He tried to be irritated with you for being a nuisance, but your playful kisses and carefree attitude were wearing down his defenses.

“You’re too much to bear. I’m trying to have a serious conversation and you just can’t help yourself, can you?” 

Despite his words, he couldn’t help but smile as your lips continued to pepper his face with kisses. You laughed softly and shook your head, it’s rare to see John smiling like this and you loved it.

“No, I can’t help myself. I’m gone in the brains and I kinda love you.”  You said playfully. He rolled his eyes, but there was no real irritation behind it. He knew you were just teasing him, trying to lighten the mood and lift his spirits. And it was working.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a regular comedian, you are. Lucky for you I kinda love you too, you airhead.” 

He reached up to flick your forehead gently, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to make his point. You yelped in mock offense, rubbing your forehead dramatically where he had flicked you.

“Hey! That’s uncalled for, you know. Just for that, I’m gonna keep torturing you with my kisses.” 

You grabbed his face and planted a noisy, slobbery kiss on his cheek, your eyes glittering with mischief. He groaned and tried to squirm away from you, but he was laughing too hard to put up much of a fight.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? You call those kisses?” 

He made a show of wiping his cheek with exaggerated disgust, even though he secretly loved it when you got playful like this.

You laughed loudly and tackled him onto the bed, straddling him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Disgusting, huh? I’ll show you disgusting!” 

You leaned down and began planting sloppy, noisy kisses all over his face, making exaggerated kissing noises with each one.

He feigned protest, flailing his arms and legs around dramatically as if he was trying to escape. “Fine, fine! I surrender! You win! Have mercy!”

He couldn’t stop laughing at your antics, his face now covered in a mix of slobber and lipstick. Despite the mess, he was enjoying this playful side of you far more than he would ever admit. You finally relented, collapsing on top of him with a satisfied grin. “You give up? You can’t take anymore of my ’disgusting’ kisses?”

You batted your eyelashes innocently, as if you weren’t the one acting like a silly school girl just a moment before.

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close despite the mess on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I give up, you win. You’re a master at the art of annoying kisses.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying to maintain his grumpy facade but failing miserably. He couldn’t help but smile at your infectious energy. You grinned triumphantly, your eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“Damn right I am. And you love it.” You snuggled closer to him, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He chuckled and held you tighter, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head or anything.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair. Despite the lighthearted banter, there was a hint of affection and vulnerability in his voice.

You hummed contentedly, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you and the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest.

“Too late, it’s already gone to my head.” You teased, giggling softly. You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes softening as you took in the expression on his face.

“...you know I’m going to worry about you, right? Even if you don’t want me to.”

He let out a weary sigh, his smile fading slightly as your words hit a nerve. He knew you would worry, that you couldn’t help it. He didn’t want you to worry, but he also knew that trying to stop you was a futile effort.

“I know, I know. I can’t seem to stop you from worrying, can I? But you don’t have to, okay? I’m tougher than I look.”

He tried to sound convincing, but the vulnerability in his eyes betrayed his words.

You two finally took a much needed nap and slept peacefully in each other’s arms, naked and cuddled close, exhausted from making love and playful banters.

A few months later…

He slept soundly, wrapped in your embrace, his weary body finally able to rest. you were so exhausted that you didn’t notice the subtle changes in his breathing.

His once steady breathing became more labored, a faint rattle sounding in his chest. He shifted fitfully in his sleep, muttering incoherently under his breath.

You woke up suddenly, sensing something was amiss. You glanced at his face, seeing the sweat beading on his forehead. You shifted closer to him, your heart racing with worry.

“John... John, baby? Wake up.” You gently shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his restless slumber.

[estellan0vella]

Office Cry Fest Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The parlour is quiet this evening, the buzz of tattoo machines having died down as the last clients left an hour ago. Sukuna’s office, however, is bustling with activity. You, Yuji, Megumi, and Gojo are all huddled on the plush couch, eyes glued to the TV screen. Marley & Me plays, a seemingly innocent choice for movie night. None of you had seen it before, and it promised the warm, fuzzy feeling of a family-friendly film.

Sukuna’s office is now a haven for an emotional rollercoaster. You’re curled up in Sukuna's oversized hoodie, clutching a pillow to your abdomen, dealing with the dual discomforts of cramps and the poignant narrative unfolding on screen. Yuji is nestled on your left, his tiny fists gripping your sleeve, while Megumi is on your right, half-hiding his face in the crook of your arm. Gojo is sprawled out on the floor, back against the couch, sniffling loudly.

As the movie reaches its heart-wrenching climax, you feel the tears streaming down your face. Yuji is openly sobbing, and even Megumi's brave façade crumbles as he clings to you tighter. Gojo, despite his usual nonchalance, is wiping at his eyes furiously, muttering under his breath.

“Who the fuck makes a doggy snuff film?” Gojo exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. His voice cracks slightly, betraying his distress.

“What sick fuck made this film?” you shout, echoing Gojo’s sentiment as you bury your face in the pillow. The emotional weight of the movie, combined with your period-induced sensitivity, is too much to bear.

Suddenly, the office door swings open, and Sukuna strides in, followed closely by Geto and Toji. They pause at the sight before them: two adults, two children, all in various states of emotional disarray.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Sukuna demands, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. His usually stern demeanor softens slightly when he sees the tears streaking down Yuji’s and Megumi’s faces.

You point at the TV, where the credits are now rolling. “That movie... Marley & Me... it’s awful,” you manage to choke out between sobs.

Geto raises an eyebrow, glancing at the screen. “Isn’t that supposed to be a feel-good family movie?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not,” Gojo retorts, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s a fucking trap.”

Yuji sniffles, looking up at Sukuna with wide, teary eyes. “Suku, the dog... the dog dies.”

Sukuna’s expression shifts from confusion to understanding. He crouches down to Yuji’s level, gently wiping away his tears. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just a movie.”

“No more dog movies!” Megumi declares, his small hands clenched into fists. “Ever!”

You nod fervently, feeling a wave of determination wash over you. “Agreed. We’re making a pact. Never again.”

“Never again,” Gojo echoes, raising his hand as if taking an oath. “That was emotional terrorism.”

With a newfound sense of purpose, you eject the DVD from the player and march over to the window. “Good fucking riddance,” you say, launching the disc out into the night. It sails through the air, disappearing into the darkness. 

As you turn back, Megumi reaches for another DVD on the shelf. "How about this one?" he asks innocently, holding up "Me Before You."

Your eyes widen, and you snatch the DVD from his hands. “Not a fucking chance!” you declare, and with a swift motion, you throw it out the window as well.

Gojo lets out a loud laugh, wiping away the remnants of his tears. “If we watched that one, I would have killed myself,” he jokes, though his voice still wavers with leftover emotion.

“I agree,” you say, nodding solemnly. “That would’ve been the end of us.”

Geto wraps an arm around Gojo, pulling him close. “You guys are a mess,” he says softly, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you some tea,” Sukuna murmurs, pulling you into his arms. “And maybe something less devastating to watch.”

Yuji tugs on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Suku, can we watch something happy? Like Toy Story?”

“Sure thing, buddy,” Sukuna replies, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Anything but another sad dog movie.”

Toji picks up Megumi, who is still sniffling. “Let’s go find something fun to watch, okay, kiddo?”

Megumi nods, resting his head on Toji’s shoulder. “Okay, Daddy. No more sad movies.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as Sukuna leads you to the kitchen. “Thanks, Kuna,” you whisper, leaning into him.

“Anything for you, baby,” he murmurs back, kissing the top of your head. “Now, let’s find something that won’t make us all cry our eyes out.”

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1 @kalulakunundrum @ryomku

[lasirenatarot]

What you need to hear right now.

/general messages, timeless/

🌟PAC READING🌟

Pick a perfume:

NOTE: some messages are quite specific, but might help someone who needs to hear them❤️ so keep that in mind, not everything will resonate for all, it is a general reading after all.

Pile 1:

Poison girl.

Cards that fell; 3 of pentacles, ace of pentacles, 4 of wands reversed. Gift, pleasure seekers cards from an oracle deck.

- I think you might loose a sum of money or you recently have lost some, another case may be that your financial situation might have not been the best recently and you kind of felt helpless? (Idk why im getting that). However, your financial situation has a huge potential for improvement as you may get a present (either an item or a sum of money from someone) which may ease your financial worries. This present may even help you enjoy your life more as you will not have the « weight » of worrying about the near future and how you’re gonna make ends meet.

- Another possible scenario instead of getting a gift may be getting a higher salary than anticipated which can help you make up for the recent times of struggle.

- be focused on whatever you are working on ( studies, job, sports etc.. ) DO NOT loose your focus, this may make you miss a big opportunity if you are not consistent. AND the opposite: if you continue on working, being consistent and putting in the effort you may receive better things/opportunities than you have even imagined. It all depends on you.

- for those who have recently met or have started having hopes of starting a relationship with a romantic interest: this person may not have the intetions of being in a serious relationship with you at this point of time. Be careful and seek your OWN best interest, not theirs.

Pile 2:

Baccarat rouge.

Cards: 10wands, 8wands, 5 wands reversed, judgement reversed.

- Sadly for this pile we are starting a bit negatively; you may have recently experienced a burnout or you are quite overworked due to having too much different stuff to do and take care of. What you need to know at this moment is that not everything is your responsibility: people’s actions, their poor life choices or how they live their life. You might be a person who (not exactly likes, but more of feels the need to help others at the expense of your own mental well being/emotions/mood even. You may simply just be used of being the “problem solver” & emotional trashbin for others) likes helping others, always be there for them and listen when they have struggles, but what you may not see is that by always being there for others u may create in them what I’ve read psychologists call “learned incompetence”. Basically by doing a task for someone (that was not yours to begin with) and letting them vent nonstop u’ve made them incompetent to deal with their own issues bc they may think you will always be there to fix it for them. Main message for this pile; prioritise yourself even if this means cutting ppl off because they drain you emotionally, not every person deserves explanation for how you decide to react to their behavior. Don’t be part of confrontations.

Extra message: beware of people who try to play “saints” in your life, such who have victim complex and always have a problem with everyone.

Everyone gets what they deserve in the end.

- After a tough emotional period your situation may quickly turn to positive and joyful. You may meet new friends.

Good luck🙏🏻

Pile 3:

Lost cherry.

- Very soon you might receive news you’ve been waiting for a long time. May be in a form of email/letter or a friend telling you. You may have felt like you’ve “lost yourself” a bit recently and after receiving these news you will definitely feel more at peace. Some may have been thru a breakup recently, you may finally start feeling better and more like yourself.

- you may meet a potential love interest soon or if you already have someone concrete in mind you communicate with (don’t be delulu having random crushes) you may actually begin a romantic relationship with them ( the energy I get is quite positive).

- you may need to follow “tradition” or already tried methods or consulting with a wise person if you need help with someting. (Or simply a tip)

Pile 4:

Hypnotic poison.

- You may reunite with an old friend soon. (Im particularly getting one you may know from school, but may not applicable for all)

- You may end or will end soon a chapter of your life in order to make space for better things to come.

- You may find understanding/help from someone you have not expected, while at the same time be dissapointed of someone you had trust in and expected to be there for you.

- No matter the circumstances try not to be too cocky and egoistical. You may currently be very motivated for success and have recently gained a lot of confidence due to something in your life. Keep yourself grounded and do not forget where you come from.

That was all from today’s PAC. I apologise for not including the name of the cards which fell for all the piles but I accidentally put them back in the deck and forgot to write them lol..Hope you enjoyed it tho!!

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

- La Sirena💋

[rweoutofthewoods]

Serious question not hating, I have been reading ur jegulus stories since foreverrrr and I have noticed that in the newer stories James is becoming this major loser who’s like about to cry and panic every five seconds and I was wondering if this is just like what James is now in general? because I read this other story (fbi agent smth killer Regulus smth) where Sirius smacks him for dating Regulus in front of people James starts crying LOL is this who James is now? Just someone who gets tussled around? is there a reason why he’s begin written like this? I’m not talking about “ men don’t cry” but more of a “why is he so spineless and pathetic now” idk it feels like James character in general is kinda of an empty vessel a lot of the time, in a lot of fics he’s this go happy go luck guy with god like spinelessness that is amusing to read like in “young blood” where even tho he’s supposed to be “bad” and in juvie he’s still not cool ? Or baddie? he’s just George Costanza like when Regulus goes “failed suicide attempt// you’re a liar” and James just wants to throw up and is having a nervous breakdown, In general it’s like Regulus is this major badass with an attitude and cutting words while James twirls his fingers nervously waiting for him to come home aka prey. Please please tell me your thoughts and don’t take this as hate I’m a big fan of your work

Hmmm I can see your point but I’m going to kindly disagree. Firstly, I’m not sure James and badass have ever been totally synonymous when it comes to his character. Like he is not weak whatsoever, but reg was always the one who was meaner, sharper, out getting himself killed to get the horcrux, so on. And honestly I think my James can be a bit mean and sharper than a lot of characterizations? I find it a bit funny actually because you can never please everyone, I’ve been told I make my James TOO mean.

I don’t believe my James has changed much at all. Look at anti-hero the first jegulus I ever wrote, and think about all the times James was a wreck in that too. His character only changes for plot reasons and to further a story. Also mind you, literature is more complex than just the words on the page. I had to deal with this when I wrote ppp too, that people didn’t fully understand that limited POV is LIMITED!! And a limited POV means that just because the character thinks of themselves a certain way doesn’t mean they’re seeing reality. They only know what it’s like in their own head. Also, my regulus has always been a mess too. That boy hates himself and has his fair share of breakdowns.

3 points:

1. Prey is a WIP with like 30k words or something? In fact we haven’t even seen as much of James yet, and I thought it was clear that Reg is the one out being badass because he’s free to since everyone thinks he’s dead. Voldemort tried to kill James and Harry and I’ve said that James’ Order duties are limited because he has a target on his back.

2. Youngblood James is extremely traumatized? Trauma and having a panic attack does not equal weak or spineless. Him freaking out in a stressful situation does not make him any less capable. PLUS limited POV!! We haven’t gotten to Regulus’ parts yet, and seeing James through Reg’s eyes, he’ll look different than James sees himself.

3. I have a lot of current works that I don’t think fall under the category you’re placing them under. I don’t expect you or anyone to have read them all, but Save Your Soul James is prob more of the badass James you’re looking for. Eoitv James is a bit of a bitch who gives as good as he gets. James was probably TOO mean in wck, and antipathy which I didn’t write that long ago. So let’s not make generalizations.

Anyway I can’t and won’t speak on anyone else’s choices or characterizations, but a character is not an easy thing to fully grasp when you’re writing them. Idk if you write yourself, but mind you a lot of jeggy authors are young or teenagers and deserve all the love and support as they grow and write however they want. Ofc as a more traumatized James characterization becomes more popular sometimes we’ll swing from one extreme to another.

I saw your second ask and I know you mean well and aren’t trying to seem rude, don’t worry. so I send you nothing but love.

However I love all u guys so much but I feel like every month or so I find myself having to back up and explain my writing or choices. And I hope I don’t sound like a conceited bitch, but I do know I’m decent at writing. Like I’m really good at understanding every single choice I make, ESP when it comes to characterizations. That’s always been my strength. I always know exactly what I’m doing and even if not everyone agrees with it, I can and will back up every choice I make in a fic because a lot of thought goes into every word. It is a little frustrating to often feel like I need to explain myself.

(Sorry last note I’m editing in to add: I’m the author and that means I’m in control, which means that for all the countless hours and all nighters I’ve spent writing, it is my right to write however and whatever I want. And it’s totally ok if you disagree with my characterization!! That’s your right too! but I can’t and won’t shape him to every person’s wants and whims. He’s my James and he belongs to me. Sorry I hope this doesn’t come off as harsh, I have no animosity I promise and I’m not trying to be, I know I come off as brash sometimes and I never mean it that way.)

But I know u don’t mean badly, and that’s not directly at you. Much love and happy Friday xx

[rius-cave]

I had an idea for Prison Au to make Adam feel conflicted.

His lawyer comes to him with the idea to take an Alford Plea. That is a plea where you please guilty to the crime and are sentenced normally, but you serve no time. Lack of evidence what have you.

Adam would be out of prison that week...... But he'd had the charge on his criminal record forever and be made to sign a disclosure saying he understands and he wouldn't be able to sue the prison for false imprisonment.

Or try his luck in court and risk getting life.

Adam: Let me think about it

Lawyer: What is there to think about? You could be out.

Adam: Fuck, I know just...... I need a little time.

Lawyer: Don't think too long.

Lucifer would pick up on how distracted Adam is and maybe let it go at first. But after a few days? No he's gotta ask.

Adam tells him and now it's a moral choice on Lucifer's end. He can influence Adam to go one way or the other and MAYBE a selfish part of him wants Adam to stay in prison.

Thoughts? 👀

HMMMM so, I'm no lawyer or expert in the American system, but if your crime is enough to get you in prison for life, could you really get a deal that lets you off the hook so easily?? I don't know what kind of crimes can get you sentenced for life, but I imagine nothing that would let you out of it in a week just for pleading guilty... I could be wrong though

Putting that aside, let's say his sentence isn't for life, but it's for like, a really, reaaaaally long time. I don't know, 30 years or something, I haven't even decided what his crime(s) was so who knows lol. In this instance, yes, definitely there would be a similar conflict, actually! Either he pleads guilty or he has to betray the other inmates in one way or another, maybe both of them at different points in time.

It's part of the things that contribute to this Adam's 'redemption' actually. Adam has to be faced with different decisions in prison that start reshaping his attitude and morals.

As for Lucifer, I don't think it would be a real struggle for him actually, assuming this deal happens a while after Adam is imprisoned, and Lucifer starts actually LIKING Adam, then he'd definitely encourage him to take the deal to get out quicker. Yes, obviously a part of him would be sad, but I don't think he's the type of man to expect anyone to stay in prison for longer than they need to. Adam would be the one to really think it over a long time.

[operationslipperypuppet]

something about… mee maw’s burden. and it being of survival. of responsibility. of a sacrifice you made, of your own volition, and told no one about.

the first time we hear it, of course, the titular time, is when mee maw comes clean to moonshine about having crick rot. a burden she has carried for an indeterminable amount of time. one that she’s willing to shoulder, until it kills her, because she has to keep helping the cricks who are sicker. she knows it’s eating her alive, and she couldn’t tell anyone. until moonshine.

i’m skipping a lot here because of a point i’ll get to in a moment but one of the more prolific scenes it’s used under is “how long do half elves live?”. now, obviously, there’s an obsession with that moment for hardshine reasons, but moonshine’s point is about something much deeper. she took on an ability, quietly, that would extend her lifespan beyond the realm of comprehension. she’s doomed to survive that long if something doesn’t kill her first. and she’s willing to do work that takes time, things that will slowly rebuild the world, work that will make it all worth it. but she never wanted this. she was planning to learn a new type of magic to avoid it, the burden of living beyond all your friends, of knowing that there’s one day, sooner than you’d like, where everyone who ever meant anything in your early life is long gone. and she tells mee maw. who gets it, who has to get it, because she’s dealing with the same thing.

when we jump ahead to the far too many (for the part of me that doesn’t like weeping before 8am on a friday) uses for gowan kilde in campaign 3, it’s a little subtler. for the most part, it’s used as he’s talking to calder about his responsibilities as ranger general. the things he owes to the village. the things he owes to his mom. in retrospect, he’s talking himself into justifying his decision to make the deal with alexandrite. his burden lies with the protection of the village. his duty as leader (much like mee maw’s) to stand up and do what needs to be done for their at large survival. and maybe if he can explain some of it to calder, it’s off his plate.

most of the crick songs, and by this i mean the ones about crick people and not as much those from the elemental chaos, have an element of hope to them. some sort of positive you can spin from it. gunslinger’s girl is about reminiscence, the bittersweet aspect of it, and how there were good times once. greener shades has an aspect of looking to the future, one that particularly comes from its use with balnor’s letter, where things are unknown but will be better. hell, even prodigal sister, a deeply devastating death dirge, has that component where you can feel that this person is returning home to the crick. for mee maw’s burden, it tends to be an element of relief.

because a burden shared is one that’s less heavy. that’s the final element of the song, it’s not simply about the devastation of a burden of surviving, of leading, of making a choice no one else could. it’s about the relief you feel when you share it. moonshine and calder are the ones who directly stop the bad thing that their family member is going through. jolene is able to commiserate with moonshine, to reassure her, because she’s doomed to the same sort of life.

to put it through an evil twist, it’s what plays when calder asks ultrus for the deal. because he’s looking out at an impossible fight, where callie is practically alone and sol is seconds from death, a thing his friends are certain to lose. and he can’t lose them, even if they lose. so he asks ultrus for help. and ultrus provides that relief. he takes a lot, too, but the relief is there.

with mee maw’s burden, you’re going to survive. you are perhaps doomed to. that deal you made will crush you under an enormous weight. but maybe, just maybe, the person you talk to about it can supply just enough leverage that you can get free.