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kingofbodyrolls · 1 month

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when it sinks in (m) | ksj

Life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

→ Pairing: seokjin x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: established relationship → Genres: amnesia romance / fluff / smut / angst / drama / light yandere → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 13.1k → Warnings + triggers: amnesia, memories/visions, betrayal/lying, yandere behavior, controlling, identity crisis, struggling with the concept of ‘home’, drowning, merfolk mating (sex), unprotected sex; breast play, a lot of kissing, oral (male and female), sweet and tender love making, hair pulling, spitting, scratching with nails, gentle aftercare. → Author’s note(1): I finally finished another mermaid story! Only five more to go!!! I really love this universe I’ve created and I can’t wait to explore more for the other members! 💜 → Read on AO3? [link]

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The cool, wet embrace of the sea wraps around your skin like a silken veil, the deep, dark waters beckoning you into their mysterious depths. Your deep purple, scaly tail shimmers with an ethereal glow, catching the faintest glimmers of sunlight that dance like fleeting whispers on the ocean floor. You revel in the boundless freedom of the sea, gliding effortlessly through the currents, your spirit entwined with the rhythm of the waves. The myriad fish that weave around you are your companions, your fellow wanderers in this underwater realm that pulses with life, a world you have called home for as long as you can remember.

You have never set foot on land; the thought is as foreign as the idea of flight to a stone. Up there, beyond the shimmering surface, lies an unknown, a distant world that holds no allure for you. Down here, in the tranquil depths of the sea, you have found your sanctuary, your eternal haven, a place where time itself seems to pause and stretch into infinity.

A flash of shimmery pink darts past your vision, breaking your thoughts with a burst of playful energy. You can’t help but giggle as Seokjin, with his warm chestnut hair, shimmies away, his laughter bubbling up like pearls from the ocean floor. His presence is a light in the dark, a warm current in the cool embrace of the deep. He’s always been like that—playful, teasing, yet so undeniably yours. You catch sight of him as he attempts to find a new hiding spot, but his broad shoulders and mischievous grin give him away, and the chase is on.

Your tail flips furiously, propelling you through the water with the grace of a dancer. Fish scatter in your wake, startled by your swift movements as you close the distance between you and Seokjin. You’re playing hide and seek—believe it or not, two adult merfolk, lost in the joy of the game, the rest of the world fading into the background.

Before Seokjin reaches the cliffside, he turns to face you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He sticks his tongue out playfully, disappearing behind the rocky surface, but when you round the corner, he’s nowhere to be found. Confusion lingers for just a moment until strong hands wrap around your torso, just below your purple seashell bra, and you’re caught in his embrace. Laughter spills from your lips as he tickles your waist, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“I got you now, huh?” he whispers, his voice a low murmur that sends shivers down your spine.

His face nuzzles into the curve of your neck, and the warmth of his breath caresses your skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your entire being. Goosebumps rise in a wave, your body responding to his touch with a sigh of contentment. His plush lips graze your neck, planting soft kisses that trail upward until they find your mouth. His kiss is a tantalizing dance, a slow, deliberate exploration that leaves you yearning for more.

Your eyes close as your hands intertwine, your tails curling around each other in an intimate embrace. You pull him closer, your desire for him an insatiable hunger that swells with every beat of your heart. Time seems to dissolve, the world around you blurring into a sea of blue as you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally part, your eyes meet, both of you breathless, pupils wide and dark with longing. Your fingers remain laced together, your hearts beating in perfect harmony, a shared rhythm that speaks of a love as deep as the ocean itself. The dance continues, your bodies swaying in the current, moving as one, the world around you forgotten, reduced to the simple, undeniable truth of your bond.

And as you kiss him again, deeper this time, your tongue exploring his, you feel yourself slipping further into the depths of his love, where you could easily lose yourself forever and be content, knowing that in this moment, in this embrace, you have found your home.

When you part once more, his smile, that worldwide handsome smile, beams like the first rays of dawn, and you feel your heart melt in response. He gently takes your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin before bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?” he whispers, his voice a soft caress that lingers in the water around you.

A soft giggle escapes your lips, the sound light as the bubbles rising to the surface, as his kiss sends a shiver of warmth through you. Your hand sparkles with the ring he gave you—a creamy, lustrous pearl that glows with the promise he made, a symbol of forever. The memory of that moment when he asked you to be his, when you said yes with every fiber of your being, floods your mind, filling you with a love that feels as deep and endless as the ocean itself.

“Hmm,” you hum, your eyes reflecting the love that fills your heart, “I love you too.”

You smile, letting the moment wrap around you like a comforting current, and the once-blurred surroundings now sharpen into focus. Tiny yellow fish dart around with playful energy, their tails wiggling like ribbons in a breeze, while obsidian ones lurk in the wet sand below, their movements slow and deliberate. Schools of silver fish glide by in perfect synchrony, their scales catching the light in a shimmering dance that weaves through the water like a living tapestry. The underwater world around you is a lush, vibrant realm of greens and blues—kelp sways gracefully in the gentle currents, tangles of sea plants flourish with life, some adorned with delicate flower buds that bloom like jewels in the ocean’s embrace. The water, dark but crystal clear, reveals hidden caves and rocky outcroppings, perfect for hide-and-seek adventures, waiting to be explored.

A sudden, gentle touch against your tail startles you, and you turn to see Jungkook behind you, his expression one of playful exasperation. “Hyung! Jimin’s missing again,” he groans, his voice carrying a note of frustration. “Sorry, ___, I didn’t mean to swim into you.” He flashes you a sheepish grin before turning his attention back to Seokjin, not batting an eye at the fact that he interrupted your mating ritual.

Seokjin rolls his eyes, a sigh escaping him like the whisper of a tide. “Last time I saw Jimin, he said he got caught in a net on a boat but managed to escape. Maybe he got caught again?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror, his imagination running wild. “Shouldn’t we help him then?”

Seokjin dismisses the concern with a casual wave of his hand, his confidence unwavering. “Nah, he’s perfectly fine on his own. He’s a grown merman." He reaches for your hand once more, pulling you close, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment.

“If he’s gone for longer than a week, maybe we can look for him,” he adds with a playful tug, drawing you gently away from the conversation. You hear Jungkook muttering something about Jimin’s unfamiliarity with humans and the risk of being discovered, but Seokjin’s calm, easy going demeanor remains unshaken, a quiet reassurance that everything will be alright.

As you swim away together, you take in the vibrant world around you, feeling a profound sense of peace and belonging in the depths of the sea. The worries of the surface world seem distant and insignificant here, where every moment is filled with wonder and the comforting embrace of the ocean.

You glide alongside Seokjin back to your cove, a sprawling underwater city that rises like a dream from the ocean floor. Tall, castle-like buildings with turrets and spires reach toward the surface, their walls adorned with coral and sea glass, reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of colors. It’s a place out of a fairytale, a sanctuary where you feel truly at home. You smile and wave to your mermaid friends as they swim by, their envious glances not lost on you. Many merfolk admire your relationship with Seokjin, a merman whose heart is as kind as his looks are striking, and their gazes only bolster your confidence.

As you weave through the swaying kelp towards the cave you call home, red crabs scuttle along the sandy bottom, and the ocean hums with life all around you. Here, in this enchanted realm beneath the waves, you find your true north, your place of peace, and your heart’s deepest joy.

Suddenly, your vision fades to black, and a cascade of unfamiliar images flashes before your eyes, like a distant memory surfacing from the depths of your mind.

You feel the grainy texture of sand between your toes—a sensation both alien and intimate. Toes, an unfamiliar part of you, sink into the soft, white sand as you sit, letting it slip through your fingers like a whisper of time. The sea’s foam caresses your feet, a delicate tickle that brings a smile to your lips as you gaze out at the endless expanse of water. It’s always been beautiful, this vast ocean, a constant in your life, and it always will be. You look back at the shore, where your friends wave and smile, their faces warm and inviting, yet somehow distant.

Then, just as suddenly, the vision dissipates, and the familiar contours of your shared cave snap back into focus. Seokjin’s worried gaze meets yours, his eyes searching your face for answers.

“Are you okay, babe?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You blink, disoriented, as if waking from a dream that clings to the edges of your consciousness. “Huh?” you murmur, glancing around the cave, feeling a strange, unsettling disquiet. What had you been seeing just moments before?

“Your gaze felt so empty, like your thoughts were far away,” he explains, his brow furrowing with worry. You shake your head, the images slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers, leaving only confusion in their wake.

“I don’t know what happened, but let’s just head home,” you say, squeezing his hand, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his touch. You lead him into the cave, the soothing embrace of your shared space grounding you as you try to shake off the lingering disorientation.

That night, cradled in his arms, you toss and turn, haunted by those enigmatic visions. Your mind conjures images that feel like echoes from another life, flickering in and out of focus like a distant star. In your dream...

You walk along a shoreline, the waves gently lapping at your bare feet, each step a curious mix of exhilaration and strangeness. The sensation of solid earth beneath you is foreign, yet thrilling, akin to the freedom of soaring through water as your feet carry you across the warm sand. The scene shifts abruptly, and you find yourself in a bustling café, the sounds around you muffled as if you were underwater, though you clearly aren’t. You sit at a table with women whose faces are familiar, echoing the earlier vision of the beach. They giggle and smile, their words a blur, and you nod along, smiling in return. Your hand curls around a glass of light brown liquid, the ice clinking softly—a scene both alien and intimately familiar.

You wake with a start, your heart pounding, the remnants of the dream still clinging to you like mist.

Where are you? What was that dream?

You remember the sensation of having feet—of walking, of being human.

“Honey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Seokjin’s voice is soft with concern, his usual cheerfulness replaced by a frown that tugs at your heart. You force a smile to dispel his worry. “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.”

Because that’s all it was, right? Just a strange dream.

Determined to shake off the unsettling images, you begin your day with a light breakfast, trying to push the dream from your mind. Soon after, you swim out to meet Namjoon, who has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. You had promised to join him on his latest treasure hunt, a quest for crystals, gems, or forgotten relics from the world above. He’s spoken about this adventure countless times, his excitement infectious, and you finally relented, agreeing to accompany him on one of his explorations. As you swim toward him, Namjoon greets you with a soft smile, the anticipation of the day’s quest lighting up his eyes.

“Hi, ___! Ready for our adventure?” Namjoon’s voice bursts with excitement, his smile as radiant as a child’s on Christmas morning. His baby blue tail flicks with uncontainable energy, the scales catching the light in a playful shimmer.

“Yeah!” you exclaim, matching his enthusiasm as you adjust the crossbody bag slung over your shoulder, prepared to gather whatever treasures the ocean offers.

“Cool, let’s swim,” he says, his voice bubbling with eagerness as he takes the lead, propelling himself forward with powerful strokes. The ocean around you is calm, the water clear and inviting, and as you set off together, you can almost convince yourself that the dream was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

You swim for what feels like ages, the cool water rushing past you, each movement a blend of grace and strength. As fatigue begins to tug at your muscles, a glimmer of blue catches your eye in the distance. Your heart leaps, anticipation coursing through your veins—finally, you’ve reached your destination. Namjoon’s excitement is almost tangible as he urges you forward, his energy sparking through the water like an electric current.

The sand beneath you is a pale beige, contrasting sharply with the vibrant blue crystals embedded in the rocky surface ahead. It’s breathtaking, a hidden gem in the vast underwater world that you call home. A few curious fish dart by, their scales catching the light as they weave through the water, but otherwise, a profound silence envelops the scene, amplifying its beauty.

“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper as you take in the mesmerizing sight. You’ve never seen anything like it before, and the wonder of it leaves you momentarily speechless.

“It’s aquamarine,” Namjoon says, his voice filled with awe as he swims closer to the crystals, inspecting them with a reverence reserved for only the most precious discoveries.

You nod, transfixed by the shimmering blue gems. Who would have guessed that your home held such secret wonders, hidden in the depths of the ocean, waiting to be found?

“I want to collect one, just give me a moment,” Namjoon says, his tone both excited and focused as he drops his bag of tools onto the ocean floor, sending up a small cloud of sand. The bag, a cherished relic from one of his many adventures, is always with him. He carefully extracts a few tools, his movements precise and deliberate, as he begins to carve out a chunk of crystal. You watch him work, captivated by the skill and care with which he handles the gem. Once he’s collected a piece for himself, he turns to you, his expression softening as he offers you a small piece of aquamarine.

You accept the crystal, turning it over in your hand. The gem catches the light, reflecting the deep, mysterious blues of the sea. In that moment, it feels like you’re holding a piece of your world’s essence, a tangible reminder of home.

But then, as if pulled by an unseen force, your reality shifts.

A sudden rumble of thunder jolts you, and the serene underwater scene dissolves around you. Everything sways, and you find yourself on a boat—or perhaps a yacht—gripping the railing with one hand, a glass of crimson liquid in the other. The sky above is dark and foreboding, thick clouds churning with the promise of a storm. Laughter, eerie and out of place, mingles with the sound of thunder, creating a haunting symphony that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Earth to ___!” Namjoon’s voice breaks through the vision, snapping you back to the present. He waves his hands in front of your face, concern etched across his features. Panic surges through you—these aren’t just dreams. They feel tangible, like fragments of another life bleeding into your own. A life that isn’t yours, yet feels disturbingly familiar. You’re a mermaid, never human—or at least, that’s what you’ve always believed. It’s said that mermaids can transform, but you’ve never set foot on land. These visions, these memories, feel foreign, like echoes from another existence intruding on your mind.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I don’t know what happened,” you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to push away the unsettling experience. He gives you a thoughtful, worried look, his brow furrowed in concern, but then he smiles gently, his fingers curling around yours as he leads you away, guiding you back towards the comfort and familiarity of home.

As you glide through the water, the aquamarine crystal clasped tightly in your hand, the mysteries of your visions swirl in your thoughts like the endless, spiraling currents of the sea. The deep blue around you pulses with a rhythm all its own, yet your mind is elsewhere, drifting through the shadows of these strange, inexplicable memories that seem to tug at the edges of your consciousness.

Back home, you find Seokjin engrossed in his work, as usual, his focus intense as he prepares materials for his students. He’s a revered teacher, imparting the ancient history of your underwater world to the young merfolk with a passion that’s impossible to ignore. You watch him with quiet admiration, knowing how much he loves sharing tales of the past—stories of how Hoseok’s ancestors founded your vast cove, battling fearsome sea creatures to carve out this sanctuary beneath the waves. Hoseok’s lineage runs deep, their legacy woven into the very fabric of your community, making him something akin to royalty in these waters. Seokjin often speaks of how your city has remained hidden from human eyes for centuries, a secret world cloaked in the ocean’s depths. Yet, in recent times, curiosity about the surface has begun to stir among the younger merfolk, despite the elders’ stern warnings about the dangers of being discovered by humans. Though Seokjin shares these stories with a sense of wonder, you’ve never felt the urge to experience life on land yourself. The sea is your home, your heart tethered to its depths.

“Did you have a good trip with Namjoon?” Seokjin asks, glancing up from the worn pages of a book adorned with ancient symbols. His smile is warm, his presence a steady anchor in the shifting tides of your thoughts.

“Yeah, he gave me a piece of aquamarine. Wanna see?” you reply, pulling the small, shimmering crystal from your bag when he nods. He takes it from you, his eyes reflecting the gemstone’s beauty as he admires it.

“It’s as beautiful as you,” he murmurs, handing it back to you with a gentle smile. You place it beside your nest on the rocky nightstand, the crystal catching the light in a way that reminds you of the first moment you saw it.

The days that follow are peaceful, your visions leaving you in a rare state of calm. You fill your time with friends, letting the little mermaids braid your hair as you embark on new adventures. One day, you swim alongside Taehyung, his curiosity and eccentricity leading you to explore the ocean’s forgotten treasures—remnants of the world above that have found their way to the seabed. The sand is littered with seashells, gold coins, tarnished utensils, waterlogged books, and ancient jewelry. Taehyung, much like Namjoon with his stones—sorry, crystals—collects these artifacts with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a child, his love for these lost relics bringing a smile to your face as you join him in his explorations.

“Look! There’s a glass over here,” Taehyung calls out, his voice filled with the thrill of discovery. You swim over to him, your curiosity piqued, and inspect the object he holds in his hands. It’s a strange trinket, unlike anything you’ve seen before.

“Glass?” you murmur, the word feeling foreign and heavy on your tongue, as if it doesn’t quite belong in your world.

Taehyung shows you the glass—a large, round vessel with a slender stem that widens into a foot. It resembles a wine glass, and as you gaze at it, a wave of dizziness washes over you. Your vision fades to black.

When it returns, the sound of thunder fills your ears, loud and ominous. You’re no longer underwater but standing on the deck of a yacht, gripping the railing with one hand, the other clutching an almost empty wine glass. The crimson liquid sloshes with the rocking of the boat, staining the pristine glass with its rich hue. The sky above is a stormy canvas, dark and swirling, illuminated only by flashes of lightning that slice through the darkness. A blanket of rain soaks you to the bone, cold and relentless, while eerie laughter mingles with the crack of thunder, creating a symphony that sends chills down your spine.

Suddenly, a massive wave crashes against the yacht, and you lose your grip on the wine glass. It shatters on the deck, the pieces scattering like shards of a broken memory. Another wave strikes, and you’re thrown off balance. You tumble over the side of the yacht, plunging into the churning sea. The waves are merciless, slamming you against the hull, and your head collides with a sickening thud. Your body goes limp, and you begin to sink into the depths, the water filling your lungs as you struggle to breathe. Everything goes dark, the weight of the ocean pressing down on you, dragging you deeper, deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Your eyes snap open, your body trembling, cold sweat slicking your skin. Taehyung stares at you, his expression puzzled and concerned. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tentative, as if afraid to break the fragile silence that hangs between you.

You nod, biting your lip, though deep down, you know you’re far from okay. What you saw felt so vividly real—falling into the ocean, legs thrashing as a human. These visions must be memories, but memories of what time, what life?

As you reflect, a disturbing realization grips you: you don’t remember anything from before meeting Seokjin. There’s nothing—just a blank void where your past should be. Could these really be your memories? From a life before... before Seokjin?

A shiver runs through you, the chill of dread seeping into your bones. It doesn’t make sense, this absence of a past. Where were you born? Is ___ even your true name? Who are you, really?

These questions swirl in your mind like a storm, dark and turbulent, as unsettling as the depths you plunged into in your vision. You can feel your thoughts unraveling, each thread pulling at the fabric of your reality. Yet, Taehyung, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continues his treasure hunt with the same innocent enthusiasm. You try to hide your growing fear, but your body betrays you with tremors. Perhaps you should confide in Seokjin about these dreams—no, these memories. He’s so knowledgeable about history, about magic; maybe there’s something he can do. The thought of sharing your burden with him is both comforting and terrifying. You feel fragile, like a piece of glass teetering on the edge, a single crack away from shattering into countless, irreparable fragments.

Despite the weight pressing down on you, you help Taehyung search for more treasures, turning over every leaf of kelp, every rocky surface. He fills his bag to the brim with relics from the world above, while you swim beside him, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. The strange feeling lingers as you reach home, and Seokjin’s eyes find yours, instantly recognizing that something is wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks, his grip on your arms firm, his gaze searching yours, desperate for an answer to the sadness clouding your features.

You let out a heavy, frustrated sigh, unable to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you have a good time with Taehyung on your treasure hunt?” he inquires, his concern deepening when you shake your head.

“No, the treasure hunt was fine. It’s…” you begin, fumbling with the words, struggling to find a way to explain the unexplainable. But you have to try—maybe he can help. “I’ve been having these weird visions,” you pause, your voice trembling as you swim nervously from side to side, “or memories, I think.”

His expression shifts from curiosity to worry, his handsome face now eerily blank as he listens.

“What kind of memories?” he asks, his voice cautious, as if afraid of what you might say.

“Of me. As a human. With legs. Living on land,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, hoping against hope that he might understand, that he might have some insight into why you’re experiencing these memories—how to make them go away before they consume you entirely.

He says nothing, his silence a heavy weight between you, and his frown deepens, a storm gathering in his eyes. Your heart sinks, dragging your hope down with it.

“Are these my memories?” you ask, your voice small, trembling as you finally give voice to the fear that has haunted you for days. You hold your breath, waiting for his response, dreading the answer.

But he avoids your gaze, his silence more damning than any words could be. Your heart plummets, sinking into the depths of despair. Does he have something to do with this? What is he hiding from you? What truth is he keeping locked away, and why does it feel like your world is about to unravel completely?

Seokjin descends into the deep, where the ocean’s embrace is tight and unyielding, and where the light above is little more than a distant memory. He loves it here, in the silent, shadowy depths where the world feels vast and endless, yet intimately close. Today, however, his journey is not for himself. Taehyung, bedridden with the flu, has entrusted him with a mission—to find treasures, the peculiar remnants of human life that have sunken to the ocean’s floor. Usually, Taehyung would be at his side, his eyes alight with curiosity, but today, Seokjin searches alone, determined to bring back something special for his friend.

The sandy bottom stretches out beneath him, vast and barren, as he scours it for any sign of something unusual. His hands sift through the grains, but he finds nothing of interest, just the familiar whisper of the ocean around him. Then, a muffled ripple from above disrupts the stillness, and he pauses, his attention caught. He glances upward, but the water is thick, his depth too great to see the sun or the sky. The darkness is all-consuming, but there’s a strange energy in the water—a tremor, a subtle shift.

He feels it before he sees it, the electric charge pulsing through the sea as the surface above transforms into a chaotic dance of white and yellow. Lightning forks across the sky, and thunder reverberates through the waves, a distant echo that reaches even these shadowy depths. His heart quickens as he senses a looming presence overhead—a large boat, struggling against the storm’s fury. Curiosity tugs at him, urging him closer to the surface, to that fragile boundary between his world and the one above.

But then, a sudden splash shatters the rhythm of the waves, drawing his gaze. Seokjin doesn’t need to see to know something is wrong—he feels it, deep in his core. He propels himself upward, slicing through the water with powerful strokes, and as he nears the surface, the scene unfolds before him.

There you are—a human—falling helplessly into the ocean, bubbles streaming from your lips as you instinctively gasp for air, only to inhale the saltwater instead. Your eyes flutter shut as your head collides with the boat’s hull, and then your body begins its slow descent into the abyss, like a fragile leaf caught in the current.

For a heartbeat, Seokjin is frozen, torn between the instinct to remain hidden and the overwhelming urge to save you. But he knows he cannot let a life slip away, human or not. With a surge of determination, he rockets toward you, his tail propelling him with swift, graceful power. You’re sinking fast, but he reaches you just in time, wrapping his arms around your limp form. His heart pounds with the hope that you’re merely unconscious, that life still flickers within you.

Panic flares as he realizes the enormity of the task ahead—he’s too far from shore to bring you to safety, and the thought of being discovered by the humans above sends a chill through him. The ocean, with its relentless pull, drags you both deeper with each passing second. He knows he must act, and quickly. There’s no time to waste. Every moment is a battle against the depths that threaten to claim you.

Without hesitation, Seokjin makes his decision. He turns and swims with all his might, his powerful tail driving him forward through the dark waters. His destination is clear—the Sea Witch, the only one who might possess the power to save you. His heart races as he speeds through the ocean, praying that you can hold on just a little longer.

The dark enclave comes into view, a place shrouded in mystery and foreboding. He enters the cave, the water around him thick with an eerie glow cast by bioluminescent algae that clings to the walls. Shadows dance in the dim light, flickering like spirits, and the silence is heavy, almost oppressive. Fish dart away at his approach, sensing the urgency in his movements.

There, in the heart of the cave, surrounded by shelves brimming with arcane artifacts and ancient relics, he finds her—the Sea Witch. Her long black curls float around her like a halo, moving with a life of their own. Her eyes, dark and unreadable, lock onto him as he approaches. Though she appears youthful, Seokjin knows that her ageless beauty is a mask, a testament to the powerful magic that courses through her veins.

“What brings you here, Seokjin?” she asks, her voice smooth and laced with knowing, as if she’s already aware of the answer. He realizes, with a start, that he’s never known her true name. But it doesn’t matter now.

Seokjin’s grip tightens around your lifeless form, and with desperation in his eyes, he speaks.

“I need your help,” he gasps, dragging your lifeless form before her. “I found this woman sinking into the sea. I can’t get her to shore in time... Can you save her? Turn her into a mermaid and give her life?” His voice trembles with a mix of urgency and fear, a tremor that reveals the depth of his desperation. Though he doesn’t know you, the thought of your life slipping away fills him with an unnameable dread.

The Sea Witch’s eyes flicker with interest, her gaze sharp and calculating. “Such a request comes with a price,” she murmurs, her voice as soft and dark as the water that surrounds them. Her fingers move to tame her wild hair, but it’s a futile gesture amidst the swirling chaos of her lair, where shadows and light dance in an eerie ballet.

“Anything,” he pleads, his desperation mounting as he feels the fragile thread of your life fraying in his arms. “Just save her.”

The Sea Witch’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “You won’t be able to turn into a human except under the full moon,” she intones, her words echoing through the cavern like an ancient incantation. She waits, her eyes boring into him, before beginning the spell.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he nods and gently pushes you toward her, his hands trembling as he releases you. “It’s fine. Just help her, please.” The price she asks seems insignificant—he rarely ventures onto land, and what are legs compared to a life? Your life, he believes, is worth far more than the ability to walk on two feet.

The Sea Witch begins her incantation, her voice weaving through the water like a thread of silk. As the ancient words spill from her lips, your body begins to glow, the dull pallor of death replaced by a shimmer that pulses with life. Shimmers and sparkles envelop you, swirling like stars caught in a tide, as your legs begin to meld together, forming a sleek, purple tail. The transformation is breathtaking—the skin of your legs morphs into iridescent scales, each one catching the faint light and reflecting it in a myriad of colors. Your clothing shifts, dissolving into the water and reappearing as a seashell bra that perfectly matches the hue of your new tail. Suspended in the water, you look ethereal, like a creature born from the ocean’s deepest dreams.

Then, with a sudden jolt, your eyes flutter open, wide and filled with fear. Panic seizes you, and you curl into yourself, your new tail thrashing in the water as you try to make sense of the world around you.

“Where am I?” you ask, your voice trembling, the sound echoing softly through the cavern. Your eyes dart around, wide with terror and confusion.

Seokjin moves closer, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. He takes your hand in his, the touch meant to ground you, to offer some semblance of comfort in the midst of your fear. “It’s okay, ___,” he soothes, his voice gentle, his expression warm and reassuring. He doesn’t know your real name, but he calls you by the first name that springs to mind, one that seems to fit the beauty and fragility he sees before him. “You’re safe.”

He offers you a smile, a gesture meant to calm the storm raging inside you, and begins to weave a story—a tale of separation during a treasure hunt, a simple explanation that he hopes will ease your fear. Though your eyes remain clouded with uncertainty, you slowly nod, clinging to his words as though they are a lifeline.

But as you accept his story, a pang of guilt lodges itself deep within Seokjin’s heart. He knows the truth—knows that he’s withheld it from you. Yet, seeing the terror in your eyes, he cannot bring himself to reveal everything, not now, not when you’re so fragile. Perhaps, he tells himself, you will never need to know what really happened. Perhaps, in time, this story will become your truth. And for now, all that matters is that you are alive and safe, held gently in the arms of the ocean, where your new life has just begun.

Listening to Seokjin’s tale of your transformation, how you were once human and are now a mermaid, feels like the world is crumbling beneath you. Doubt and mistrust swirl in your mind like a gathering storm, obscuring everything you thought you knew. What is real anymore? Who are you? Despite the shimmering purple tail that now defines your existence, a gnawing certainty lingers—you once walked on land, breathed the air of the earth, and had friends who must surely be missing you. But why haven’t they searched for you? How long have you been living underwater, unaware of the life you lost? The questions twist within you, each one more agonizing than the last, yet you dare not ask Seokjin, for the trust you once had in him lies shattered at your feet.

Seokjin’s expression is a canvas of regret, yet he remains silent, offering no apology, no explanation. Anger and sorrow churn within you, a tumultuous sea that threatens to drown you. He deceived you, and the visions that have haunted you are not mere dreams but fragments of your stolen past. A wave of nausea rises within you as the weight of this realization crashes down, leaving you feeling displaced, as if you don’t belong in the ocean’s depths. This isn’t your home. You are human, and your heart aches for the life that was unjustly taken from you.

You don’t want to look at him—yet you do, because it suddenly hits you that this might be the last time you ever see him. You take in every detail, committing his features to memory: the sharp angle of his jaw, the curve of his nose—slightly upturned, the beautiful hazel eyes that shimmer with a mix of love and regret. Sadness tugs at your heartstrings, but the thought of his lies and the human life he stole from you reignites your anger. Your gaze traces the sharp line of his eyebrows, the tousled chestnut hair, down to the broad shoulders that taper into a strong chest and a narrow waist, where the scales of his tail begin. The tail shimmers in shades of pink, adorned with light fins at the back, and across his torso, the waist necklace of seashells and pearls—your gift, collected during treasure hunts with your friends—now seems like a mockery. Anger and love coil within you, a tangled mess of emotions, until you can no longer bear to look at him. You simply can’t.

Determined, you grit your teeth, tension rippling through your entire being. Seokjin reaches out, but you back away, your voice sharp and broken as you command, “Don’t follow me!” With that, you turn and swim away, heart pounding, the weight of his betrayal pressing heavily on your chest.

Desperate for answers, you head toward the Sea Witch—the one who played a role in your transformation. Her cave looms ahead, dark and foreboding, the water turning icy as you approach. She lounges on a rocky surface draped with plush kelp, her eyes cold and knowing as they settle on you.

“How can I help you, darling?” she asks, her voice smooth, her gaze piercing through your resolve.

“I want to turn back into my human form,” you declare, your voice steady, though your heart quivers. The Sea Witch nods, no questions asked, as she begins muttering an incantation. Her words wrap around you like a spellbinding current. She tells you that once you reach the shore, you will revert to your human self, but warns that contact with seawater will not return you to a mermaid, as you were not born of the sea. You accept this truth, ready to leave behind the deception that has kept you bound to the ocean.

With a newfound resolve, you swim toward the shore, the water parting before you as if understanding your need to escape. The ocean, once a place of wonder and discovery, now feels like a prison of lies. You are determined to find the truth, to reclaim the life you were meant to live, to breathe the air of the world you were born into. As the sunlight pierces the water’s surface, you push forward, breaking free from the ocean’s hold, ready to embrace your humanity once more.

With a splash, you break through the surface of the water, swimming toward the shore that shimmers on the horizon like a distant dream. You hope no one sees you, a fleeting shadow in the moonlit waves. The beach lies silent, empty, and welcoming as you drag yourself onto the sand, away from the saltwater’s embrace. A few heartbeats later, your scaly tail vanishes, replaced by human legs. You look down in wonder, wiggling your toes, the sensation oddly strange and yet familiar, as though awakening from a long-forgotten dream. A smile spreads across your face as the moon casts its silver light upon the water, a witness to your transformation.

Suddenly, the reality of your nudity dawns on you, and you glance around for something to cover yourself. Fortune favors you as your eyes catch sight of an abandoned towel, half-buried in the sand, which you quickly wrap around your body like a cloak of newfound modesty.

The grains of sand beneath your toes feel comforting, grounding you in a world that once seemed so far away. You take a few tentative steps, the motion awkward at first but gradually becoming more fluid, as though your muscles remember what your mind had forgotten. As you gaze over the shore, memories flood back in a rush: the thrill of sailing with friends under perfect skies, the sudden fury of a storm, the terror of falling into the sea. Faces of loved ones flash before you—your friends, the loss of your parents when you were still so young, the aching loneliness of being an only child. Your heart sinks under the weight of these memories, leaving you hollow, a stranger in a world you once called home. Do your friends even remember you? How much time has slipped away in your absence?

Your feet, as if guided by some hidden instinct, carry you along what you assume is a familiar path to one of your friends’ places. The city at night envelops you in its quiet hum, and though you’re wrapped only in a towel, you push on, ignoring the leering glances of drunk passersby who whistle as you hurry past. Your heart pounds in your chest, a drumbeat of nerves and determination, until at last, you find yourself standing before a tall apartment building that tugs at the strings of your memory. You walk inside, the glass doors parting like a portal to your past, and head straight to the elevator. For a moment, you hesitate, your hand hovering over the buttons as doubt creeps in. But then, almost of its own accord, your hand presses the number seven. The doors close, sealing you in, and the elevator ascends, carrying you toward the unknown.

When the doors open, you step into the dimly lit hall, each step echoing in the stillness as you approach a door that feels like the right one. You raise your hand to knock, aware that it’s the middle of the night and you might be waking someone who believes you are long gone.

A few soft knocks, and the door creaks open to reveal a tired, sleepy face, one that instantly brings a rush of warmth to your heart—it’s Soohee, your brain whispers.

“___?” she breathes, disbelief thick in her voice.

Your name— you remember it now, and it strikes you as a beautiful twist of fate that Seokjin, without knowing, bestowed upon you your true human name.

“What are you doing here? How are you alive?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock as the door remains slightly ajar, her mind struggling to reconcile your presence with the reality she knows. You just smile, the kind of smile that holds the weight of untold stories, and nod.

“You’ve been gone for two years,” she continues, her voice breaking as she reaches for you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “This is unbelievable. I thought you were dead. I missed you so much.”

You cling to her, the warmth of her arms anchoring you to this world, to the life you were meant to live. The ocean’s secrets may linger, but here, in this moment, you are home.

You let her envelop you in a hug, her familiar scent triggering a flood of memories that rush back with bittersweet clarity. “Come in,” she whispers, her voice tinged with relief, as she gently guides you inside and closes the door behind you, sealing the outside world away. Without a word about your strange attire, she hands you some of her clothes, the softness of the fabric a small comfort, and gently nudges you toward the bathroom to change. Emerging in a baggy shirt and pajama pants that hang loosely on your frame, you find the couch already made up for you, the blankets tucked in as if to cradle your weary body. Sleep should come easily, but it evades you, slipping through your grasp as your mind races, caught between the tangled threads of your human past and mermaid present. Memories of Seokjin and your life beneath the waves tug at your heart, while the bitter aftertaste of his deception lingers like a shadow. Rest remains an elusive dream.

Morning arrives with the pale light of dawn, revealing the dark circles beneath your eyes, evidence of the sleepless night you’ve endured. Soohee hands you a cup of coffee, her concern evident in the way her eyes search yours for answers you’re not yet ready to give. You sit together in the quiet morning, the warmth of the cup a small solace in your hands, as she begins to recount that fateful night. She explains how they didn’t notice you fall over the railing, their laughter and drunken fun drowning out any sound of your descent. Her hands fidget with the hem of her shirt as she speaks, her voice heavy with regret. They searched for you the next day, she says, but the sea offered no clues, and they eventually assumed you had drowned.

Her words fall like stones into the pit of your stomach, offering no comfort, only deepening the ache that has settled there. The knowledge that your friends didn’t do more, that they gave up so easily, weighs heavily on you, pulling you further into the depths of despair. The fragility of your friendship, how quickly they assumed the worst and moved on, leaves you feeling more isolated than ever, a stranger in the life you once knew.

You don’t tell Soohee the full story, offering only that you remember little and somehow washed up on shore. The truth of your mermaid life feels like a fragile thread, too delicate to share, a secret woven into the very fabric of your being that isn’t yours alone to unravel.

An invisible wall stands between you, a tension that hums in the air, hard to define but impossible to ignore. Despite the discomfort, you follow Soohee to a café to meet the rest of your friends. Everything feels slightly off, as if you’re playing a part in a play whose lines you’ve forgotten. There’s an emptiness that lingers in every smile, a sense of unfulfillment that shadows every conversation.

Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself making a temporary home in Soohee’s apartment. Most days, you’re left alone with your thoughts while she’s at work, the silence pressing in on you, heavy and suffocating. Memories of life beneath the ocean rise unbidden, surprising you with their vividness and intensity. You find yourself longing for the rhythm of the sea, the simplicity of underwater existence. And most of all, you miss Seokjin.

You wonder if he misses you too. If he had apologized, would you have fled so quickly? Maybe. The betrayal had felt like a tidal wave, overwhelming and inescapable. But now, in the calm that follows the storm, those feelings have receded, leaving behind a deep, persistent sadness. You realize, with a pang, that you might have overreacted. Seokjin had saved your life, after all. In your anger, you hadn’t allowed yourself to acknowledge that fact.

A sigh escapes your lips as you sit alone in the stillness of the apartment, the quiet wrapping around you like a heavy cloak. Your thoughts are a whirlpool, pulling you deeper into longing and regret. If only you could see him again, to tell him you’re sorry, to let him know how grateful you are. He saved you, pulled you from the brink of death, and in your anger, you hadn’t allowed him to explain, hadn’t given him the chance to speak.

You miss the comfort of his presence, the reassurance in his eyes that could calm even the fiercest storm. With each passing day, the longing to return to the sea, to him, grows stronger, an ache that gnaws at your very soul. The human world, once your home, now feels foreign and hollow, lacking the vibrancy and depth of the ocean’s embrace.

It saddens you deeply to know you can’t simply walk into the sea and transform back into a mermaid, to leave behind the confusion and reclaim the life that felt more real than anything on land. Life here isn’t what you remember; perhaps it’s because you’ve tasted something far richer beneath the waves. The underwater world was more than just a place—it was a tapestry woven with love, adventure, and the sense of belonging you had never known before. There, you had a family, friends who were like kin. Here, among old acquaintances, you feel like an imposter, a shadow of the person you once were. The friendships you once cherished now seem distant and strained, as if you’re playing a role in a story that no longer fits.

Confined mostly to the apartment, the walls closing in on you, you decide one warm summer day to seek solace at the beach, hoping the sea might offer some answers. The sun blazes in the azure sky, and the water sparkles like a thousand tiny diamonds, beckoning you. As you settle into the warm sand, tears prick at your eyes, blurring the horizon. Your thoughts drift like the tide, pulled between the world above and the world below.

Who are you, truly? A human by birth, yet your heart beats for the sea. You long to breathe its salty depths, to feel the cool caress of the water as you swim alongside Seokjin, to embark on treasure hunts with your oceanic friends. You miss them with an intensity that surprises you, a longing that feels more profound than anything you’ve ever known. The question of your true identity—human or mermaid—plagues you, an endless loop of uncertainty. Can you ever return to the life you’ve lost? The fear that you might never know gnaws at you, an unspoken dread that settles in your chest.

Existential questions swirl in your mind, a tempest of doubt and longing that refuses to quiet. The ache in your head intensifies, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within, the push and pull of two worlds tearing at you.

You sigh, tracing whimsical patterns in the sand with your fingertips, the soft grains a fleeting distraction from the storm inside. Memories of Seokjin flood your mind—his warmth, his kindness, the way his laughter wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You recall the moment you fell in love with him, the spark that ignited when your eyes first met, a connection that felt ancient and unbreakable. Even when your own name was a mystery, when you were adrift in the haze of lost memories, Seokjin was your anchor, a beacon of safety and love. Now, that connection is a gaping void in your heart, an emptiness that no human life can fill.

Perhaps it was destiny that led you to fall into the sea that night, a twist of fate that drew you to the world where you truly belonged. Maybe you were always meant to be a mermaid, to be with Seokjin. The thought brings a fleeting comfort, like a whisper on the wind, before dissolving into another sigh. The questions remain, offering no solace, only more uncertainty.

Resolutely, you rise, brushing the sand from your hands, the sun’s warmth a faint echo of the warmth you crave. You head back to the apartment, each step heavy with the weight of indecision. As you step inside, the familiar pang of emptiness hits you—it doesn’t feel like home. It never will. Seokjin was your home, and without him, you’re adrift, caught between two worlds and belonging to neither.

Soohee, determined to lift the shadows from your heart, insists on pulling you from the apartment where you’ve been brooding for what feels like an eternity. Reluctantly, you find yourself at your usual café, bathed in the silver glow of a full moon that hangs heavy in the night sky. Your friends chatter and laugh, their joy a distant melody, muffled as if trapped behind a glass wall that you can’t seem to break through. You sip your iced coffee mechanically, the cold seeping through the cup but not reaching the numbness that has settled in your soul.

Your gaze drifts out the window, unfocused, lost in a world of longing that only you can see. The sea calls to you, its siren song winding through your thoughts like a ribbon of silver and salt. The ache in your chest is almost unbearable—the yearning for the water, for the life you abandoned, for Seokjin, pulls at you with a force that’s impossible to ignore.

Suddenly, the lively chatter at your table falters, falling into an unexpected hush, but you remain adrift in your thoughts, lost in the waves of your mind. The voices around you blur into the background, until one breaks through, familiar and stirring, sending a shiver down your spine. That voice—smooth, warm, and unmistakably his—pulls you from your reverie.

You turn, and there he stands, Seokjin, his smile as bright and soft as the moonlight. He has legs now, and though he looks good like this, your heart aches for the mermaid form you fell in love with beneath the waves.

“Hi, babe,” he breathes, his voice thick with longing and the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart swells at the sight of him, and you can feel the warmth of a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Hi, Jinnie,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with all the affection you’ve kept locked away.

Your friends exchange puzzled glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, the air thick with something extraordinary and inexplicable. You offer them a quick explanation, telling them that Seokjin is your boyfriend, though the truth is far more complex than any simple label could capture. Ignoring their confusion, you rise from your seat, your heart pounding as you cross the room to Seokjin, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The moment your head nestles into the crook of his neck, a profound sense of home washes over you, as if the pieces of your heart are finally falling back into place.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his hands gentle as they hold yours, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your skin, trying to mend the fractures he fears he’s caused.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, though your voice trembles with emotion. “Do you want to go back to my place and talk?” The words hang between you, fragile and full of hope.

When he nods, the relief that floods through you is overwhelming. You say goodbye to your friends with a wave, their bewildered faces fading into the background as you step out into the night, hand in hand with Seokjin, heading back to the apartment you share with Soohee.

The streets are quiet, the full moon casting a soft glow on the path before you. Seokjin’s hand steadies you, anchoring you as you walk through the dimly lit streets, each step bringing you closer to the conversation that will decide your fate. You don’t speak, save your words for when you can give him your full attention, when the night and the moon are the only witnesses to your truths.

It takes only five minutes to reach the apartment building, but each second feels both fleeting and eternal. Inside, the familiar ding of the elevator announces its arrival, and as the doors close around you, your eyes meet his, the silence between you pregnant with unspoken emotions. In that shared look, regret and longing intertwine, a silent apology passes between you.

As the elevator dings again, signaling your arrival on the seventh floor, you offer him a soft smile, your heart heavy with what’s to come. Leading him to the door, you unlock it, and as you step inside, you know that whatever happens next, this moment—this reunion—will be etched into your soul forever.

Both of you step inside, the weight of unspoken words thick in the air. Without exchanging a glance, you move to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate. You pour cold water into glasses, the sound of liquid filling the silence that stretches between you. Placing the glasses on the table, you join Seokjin on the couch. His eyes follow you, brimming with emotions that mirror your own—uncertainty, regret, and a longing for the connection that feels so fragile now.

For a few moments, you’re both adrift in the quiet, your mind scrambling to find the right words, the perfect way to express your remorse. But before you can speak, Seokjin breaks the silence with a sigh, his breath shaky, followed by a soft, almost self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m so sorry, babe,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with sorrow.

A lump forms in your throat, and you nod, biting your lip as you fight back the tears threatening to spill. His eyes, usually so bright and full of warmth, now shimmer with regret. “I should have told you the truth,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “About your accident, about the fact that you were human... I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”

His words cut through the tension, making your heart clench painfully. Instinctively, your hands reach out for his, seeking the reassurance and love that have always been your anchor. “I forgive you, Seokjin,” you breathe, your voice soft but steady, a tentative smile touching your lips as you rub gentle circles into his hands. “But I need to apologize too. I overreacted when I found out, and I’m sorry for that. I know you didn’t lie, but you did keep things from me. It was wrong, but… I understand why you did it.” You pause, truly grasping the weight of his decisions. “If I were in your position, I don’t know if I would have told everything right away either. I still wish you’d told me sooner,” you add with a dramatic sigh, a hint of playfulness creeping into your tone, “but it’s okay. I just want to move past this. I’ve missed you so much.”

Seokjin squeezes your hands, the gesture full of warmth and relief, bringing a genuine smile to your face. “I’m glad to hear that,” he exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath for an eternity. “I’ve missed you too. That’s why I came back. I needed to tell you that.”

He begins to rise from the couch, and a flicker of confusion crosses your face as you feel the emptiness left by his absence. “What are you doing?” you ask, your voice tinged with worry as you reach out for him, not ready to let go.

“I was going to leave,” he says softly, noticing the sadness clouding your eyes. “I’ve said what I needed to.”

“I don’t want you to leave,” you plead, your hand grasping his as if anchoring him in place. “I have more to say. Please, sit down.” He hesitates for a moment, then nods, settling back onto the couch, his gaze fixed on you, waiting.

“I also wanted to thank you,” you continue, your voice trembling slightly as you shift closer to him, your thigh brushing against his. “Thank you for saving me… for loving me. I miss you, Seokjin. I miss my friends, I miss being a mermaid, and I’m afraid I’ve messed everything up. I don’t feel like I belong on land. Everything feels wrong here.”

Tears well up in your eyes, the weight of your emotions finally too much to hold back. Seokjin notices immediately, his fingers tenderly brushing away the tears before they can fall. “It’s okay, love,” he whispers, his voice soothing, filled with the warmth you’ve missed so desperately.

His hand travels to the nape of your neck, gently pulling you into him, your face finding solace in the familiar crook of his neck. You close your eyes, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of saltwater and something uniquely Seokjin. As you rest there, your heart begins to mend, the broken pieces slowly coming together in the safety of his embrace.

He pulls you away gently, just enough to gaze into your eyes. His brown irises shimmer with a depth of emotion, like pearls nestled in the heart of a clam, radiating a love so pure it sends a warm twinge through your entire body. He leans in, and his lips find yours, tentative at first, a delicate reunion after what feels like an eternity apart. The kiss, soft and tender, soon deepens, growing fiery and urgent as his tongue teases for entrance, a silent plea that you eagerly grant.

His hand stays firm at the nape of your neck, keeping you anchored to him, while his fingers weave into your hair, tugging gently. The sensation pulls a needy, strangled sound from your throat—a sound that might have embarrassed you if you weren’t so utterly consumed by the desire coursing through your veins. You’ve missed him desperately, and you want him just as fiercely—want him in this way, as humans, experiencing something entirely new for the both of you. It’s a new experience for both of you. Though you’ve had your share of intimate moments before becoming a mermaid, and Seokjin has spent ample time on land, you’ve never been together like this. The thought sends your heart racing, your body warming with anticipation.

You kiss him again, your hands flying to his face, cupping his cheeks as you sigh into his mouth, savoring the closeness. When you finally pull apart, both of you are panting for breath. “I want you, Jinnie,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of urgency and longing. Your fingers tug at the fabric of his shirt, your need palpable. “I want you like this, before you leave.”

There’s a desperation in your plea, a fear that this moment might slip away too quickly, leaving you aching with the uncertainty of when you might see him again. You sense his desire too, but the unspoken questions about the complexities of a human and merman relationship hover at the edge of your mind. Still, you push them aside, focusing on the one truth that matters now—you want him, here and now.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you silence him with another kiss, this one fervent, consuming. Whatever words he might have had are lost in the heat of the moment. Your hands move with a newfound urgency, pulling off his shirt in a swift motion. As it drops to the floor, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him, his chest strong and defined, reminiscent of his merman form, with broad shoulders that taper to a lean, narrow waist.

Your hands drift lower, unzipping his pants with a quick, determined motion. The bulge in his black boxers is unmistakable, and you stroke him through the fabric, drawing out needy sounds from deep within him that only spur your desire further. You lick your lips in anticipation, wondering what his dick looks like— if he’s thick, long? How he’ll feel, how he’ll fit.

Slipping your hands under the waistband, you grasp his cock, feeling it throb eagerly in your hand. A thrill runs through you at the sensation, the heat and the pulse of him. “Sit up so I can take these off you,” you murmur, your voice thick with desire as you tease the waistband. He complies without hesitation, lifting his hips to help you slide the garment off. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach, and your eyes widen in awe. He’s long, longer than anyone you’ve been with before, the reddened tip glistening with precum that makes your mouth water in anticipation.

You can’t wait to taste him, to feel him, to make this moment last as long as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, feeling his heat, and the sound that escapes his lips—a desperate, trembling whine—sends a shiver of thrill through your entire being. That sound, so raw and vulnerable, makes you crave more, and you can’t help but tease him, pumping his cock slowly, savoring every reaction. His eyes flutter shut, his head tilting back as he succumbs to the pleasure you’re giving him, lost in the sensation.

Leaning in close, your breath hot against his flushed skin, you flick your tongue out, tasting the salty sweetness at the tip. His gasp is sharp, his hips bucking instinctively, and you revel in the power you hold in this moment. Each sound he makes is a symphony, a melody only the two of you can hear, each movement a testament to the electric connection that binds you together.

“Please,” he pants, his voice ragged and needy, “please give me more.”

The plea in his voice ignites a fire in you, and with a sultry glance, you let a bead of spit fall onto his cock, watching it glisten before lowering your mouth to take him in. You start slowly, your tongue tracing the intricate lines and ridges, teasing the sensitive head with gentle flicks. The salty bead of precum bursts on your tongue, fueling the desire burning in your core.

With deliberate slowness, you slide down, taking more of him into your mouth, knowing you can’t take all of him, but determined to give him as much as you can. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking in rhythm with the movement of your lips, your tongue swirling around him in a dance of pleasure. His moans fill the room, a chorus of need and desire, as you work him with practiced skill, sucking on him like a lollipop, hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His hands cradle your cheeks, his touch gentle but insistent, and with a loud, wet pop, he pulls you off. His eyes, dark with lust, gaze down at you, his chest heaving. “You look so gorgeous like this,” he breathes, voice thick with longing, “but I really want to know how it feels to be inside you.”

A slow smile spreads across your face, matching the eagerness in his eyes. Together, you strip away the remaining barriers between you, clothes discarded in a careless heap on the floor. The air between you hums with anticipation, every touch, every glance charged with the hunger you both feel. He surprises you by gently pushing you down onto the couch, spreading your legs wide as he drinks in the sight of your glistening folds.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on you with adoration. “Let me taste you?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you nod, giving him permission. He wastes no time, his mouth descending on you with a hunger that makes your toes curl. His tongue moves with a skilled, silky precision, lapping at your folds, teasing your clit with just the right pressure. You moan his name, your fingers tangling in his chestnut hair, urging him to go deeper, to give you more.

His mouth is relentless, worshiping your body with every stroke, every lick, his own sounds of pleasure vibrating against your sensitive flesh. The sensations he’s creating make your body arch off the couch, your back bowing as the pleasure builds, spiraling higher and higher until it’s almost too much to bear.

His fingers find your nipples, pinching and rolling them in time with the rhythm of his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. And then, it happens—your body tenses, fingers clenching hard in his hair as you push yourself onto his face, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You ride the sensation, lost in the euphoria of release, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you come undone on his tongue.

He gazes up at you with boundless love, his eyes soft as he gives a few final, lingering licks, savoring every drop of you. When he finally moves up to kiss you, it’s deep and passionate, his body fitting perfectly between your legs. You can feel his hand, steady and sure, as he guides his throbbing cock, stroking it briefly before aligning it with your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart race, your body quivering with need as you wait for him to claim you, to make you his in every way.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing hum as he brushes the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“God, yes,” you breathe, your words barely a whisper as your body aches with need, your pussy practically pleading to be filled. The anticipation coils tight within you, every nerve alight with longing.

With a deliberate slowness, he begins to push into you, his dick stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite, a blend of pleasure and sweet ache that leaves you gasping. When he finally bottoms out, buried deep inside, it’s as if he touches the very core of you, the stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Move, please,” you grunt, the word coming out thick with desperation. You need more of him, all of him.

He responds to your plea, his hips beginning to roll with a steady rhythm, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. The sound of his hips meeting yours fills the room, a steady beat that matches the pounding of your heart. You shift, hoisting your legs higher, draping them over his broad shoulders. The new angle has him sinking even deeper into you, hitting that spot that makes your breath hitch and your toes curl. The way he kisses your cervix is nothing short of divine, a sensation that borders on the sublime.

He pants your name, the sound rich with need, his hands framing your face as his brows knit together in a beautiful display of focus and desire. He dips down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, and you groan into his mouth, feeling the intensity of his love and the depth of your connection in every movement.

When he rises again, his hands find your thighs, gripping them as he picks up speed, each thrust more insistent, more desperate, as he chases the edge. You feel your own climax building, the tension winding tight in your belly, and your hand drifts down between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing in time with his thrusts. Your breaths come faster, matching the rhythm of his, and as your pussy begins to pulse around him, the pleasure crests, sweeping through you like a tidal wave. You cry out his name, nails digging into his biceps as you ride the peak, your body trembling with the force of your release.

“Fuck,” he pants, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “I’m close… I’m gonna come.”

“Do it,” you beg, your voice ragged with need. “Come inside me, fill me up, please.”

With a stuttering groan, he releases, his warmth spilling into you as his body shudders with the force of his orgasm. His hair sticks to his damp forehead, his skin glistening with sweat, but he leans down to kiss you, his lips tender and sweet. You welcome the salty taste of him, the heat of his body, wanting to hold onto every bit of him, to memorize this moment.

After a few heartbeats, he gently pulls out of you, the loss of his presence making you feel momentarily hollow. He disappears into the bathroom, returning with a soft towel. His touch is careful and loving as he cleans you, the warmth of the cloth a gentle caress against your sensitive skin. The sweetness of his care, the way he looks at you with such tenderness, makes your heart ache, and a lump forms in your throat.

A few tears slip free, unbidden, and Seokjin pauses, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

You sniffle, trying to blink away the tears, but they keep coming. “I just… I miss you so much. This was incredible, but I don’t want you to go. I want to be with you every day. I wish I could be with you every day.”

The words break something loose inside you, and soon you’re crying in earnest, the sobs shaking your chest. Now you’re full-on crying. What a mess—crying after sex. You hope he doesn’t think he did anything wrong, because he truly didn’t.

“Hey,” he murmurs softly, pulling you close, your bodies still bare yet wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. The cool night air brushes against your skin, but it’s his touch that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand finds your chin, lifting it gently so your eyes meet his. The uncertainty of when you’ll see him next weighs heavy, your lips trembling with unspoken fears. But his gaze, soft and filled with love, reassures you.

“I wanted to tell you before,” he begins, his voice a tender caress, “you can become a mermaid again if you want. I just didn’t want to assume you’d want that.” His fingers trace your bottom lip, the touch like the brush of a feather, sending ripples of longing through you.

Become a mermaid again?

The words ignite a spark of hope in your chest, warming you from the inside out.

“Really?” you whisper, your eyes glimmering with tears of joy and love, the possibility almost too beautiful to grasp.

“Yeah,” he nods, his own eyes bright with promise. “We just need to talk to the Sea Witch.”

“Can we go now?” you ask, your heart soaring like a gull over the waves.

He laughs softly, the sound a balm to your anxious heart. “Sure. But shouldn’t you say goodbye to your friends?”

You shake your head, the decision firm and resolute. “I’ll just leave them a note.” You know it’s not the most gracious farewell, but you feel no guilt. They searched for you for barely a day when you went overboard, their concern fleeting, unlike the depth of love you feel for Seokjin.

Quickly, you dress, the mundane task filled with a sense of urgency, as if the moment might slip away if you don’t act fast. You find a piece of paper and scribble a brief note to Soohee, thanking her for her kindness and hospitality but explaining that you’re leaving to be with your boyfriend. You don’t mention anything about mermaids or the world beneath the sea; some things are too precious to share.

Hand in hand, you walk with Seokjin down to the beach, your heart beating vividly in your chest, each step a drumbeat of anticipation. Under the silvery light of the moon, you share a tender kiss, the world narrowing to just the two of you as you step into the water. The transformation is swift and mesmerizing—his legs give way to a stunning pink tail, shimmering like precious gemstones in the night.

You swim together, cutting through the water like you were born to it. Out in the open sea, far from the shore, he kisses you deeply, his lips salt-kissed and full of promise. “I’ll swim down and talk with the Sea Witch,” he whispers against your lips. “I’ll come back and tell you everything, okay?”

Time seems to stand still as you wait, the waves lapping gently around you, but it doesn’t feel long before his head breaks the surface again, a smile lighting up his face.

“She said she can turn you back permanently if you want to,” he says, the words like music to your ears, “but the catch is you’ll never be able to revert to your human form again.”

You see a flicker of concern in his eyes, but for you, it’s a small price to pay. Your human life feels distant, like a dream you’ve already forgotten. The call of the sea, the promise of the life you once knew, is too strong to resist. With a resolute nod, you kiss him, the decision clear in your heart. “Please, tell her it’s fine. I just want to be a mermaid again.”

He nods, diving back into the depths, and moments later, the transformation begins. Your legs fuse together, your skin tingles as it turns to scales, and the familiar purple tail forms, glimmering under the water. Your clothes morph into a delicate seashell bra, and you swirl around, reveling in the change. With a burst of speed, you dive deep, almost colliding with Seokjin. You both burst into laughter, the sound bubbling up like joy itself.

“Hey, pretty,” he says, cupping your face and kissing you, his touch as tender as the first time.

“Hey, handsome,” you reply, the love swelling within you, making you feel lighter than the water around you.

You kiss him again, a kiss full of joy, relief, and the overwhelming sense of being exactly where you’re meant to be. The sea, with its ancient structures, hidden caves, and vibrant marine life, feels like home once more. Seokjin holds you close, your tails entwining in an intimate embrace as you swim together, fingers lacing, bodies moving in perfect harmony.

In this underwater world, where the boundaries of the physical fade into the ethereal, your love transcends the ordinary, becoming something larger than life. Your heart floats, carried by the sea’s gentle current, pulling you ever closer to Seokjin. You open your eyes, meeting his hazel gaze, and in his smile, you see your entire world.

As you swirl around each other, the vibrant marine life fades into the background. Fish, other merfolk, dolphins, and whales pass by, their beauty paling in comparison to the magic of Seokjin’s embrace.

“I love you so much, Seokjin,” you whisper, your hands moving to rest over his bare chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I love you so much too, babe,” he replies, his voice filled with emotion as he places his hand over your heart. With his other hand, he reveals a golden band with a shining pearl, its surface iridescent and familiar in the dim light. “Will you be mine forever?” he asks, his tone both tender and hopeful.

You smile, charmed by his romantic gesture. It’s the second time he’s proposed, understanding you lost the ring when you became human. The effort he put into finding it and presenting it to you again makes your heart swell with love.

“Of course,” you say, your voice filled with certainty. “I’ll be yours forever, and you’ll be mine.”

In that moment, you realize you need nothing else. With Seokjin by your side, true friends under the sea, and a supportive family, life is beautiful. You couldn’t ask for more. As you float in the embrace of the ocean, the vastness of the sea reflecting the endlessness of your love, you know you are home.

→ Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @suker4angst → Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AI— I just want to point that out, to clear the air. I’d normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan 😭 Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the merman— I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the banner— did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that I’m making them myself, I still sometimes use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work (the banners)). → Author’s note(2): I feel so shitty with my writing (not that I think it’s bad, it’s just ‘meh’). I wrote this weeks ago, but I’m only publishing it now… I’m feeling very unmotivated, so this whole mermaid series might take some time to get finished, but I’ll try my best to finish them all 🥹 what do you think? Excited for the rest of the members’ stories? 💜

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fallstaticexit · 27 days

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Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Blood (from nosebleed) Transcript / AN under the cut

AN: Please enjoy this sound effect in my head when Geoffrey got the daylights knocked out of him . / also, thought I’d have MM episode ready , but not quite! So here’s another Nancy update ✨

Transcript:

Nancy Narrating: [I fell asleep thinking about Vanessa. I woke up thinking about Vanessa. When I would see her again. What we would do that day. What new little thing I’d learn about her]

Cassie: Did you want to sit with me and Bobby and watch the match tonight? Bobby is bringing the snacks; he can bring your favorites too.

Nancy: No thanks. I’m going to go with Vanessa.

Nancy: What?

Cassie: You know my old roommate, Angela? She was pretty close to VV. She’s kind of the reason she left the school.

Nancy: So?

Cassie: Vanessa started being really mean to her. She made the other girls call her names; it was awful. I just don’t want that to happen to you. VV always seems sweet at first, but when she doesn’t get her way...

Nancy: [scoffs] You clearly don’t know her like I do. She’s my best friend. It may have been that way with other girls, but she cares about me.

Cassie: ...just be careful. If not for her, then definitely for Dina and Nina. I think they’re worst.

Nancy Narrating: [I didn’t expect anyone to understand the connection we shared. There wasn’t a single person in the world that loved Vanessa as much as I did]

Nancy: [panting] Where’s Vanessa? She wasn’t in class this morning and I’ve looked everywhere for her.

Dina: Damn. Hello to you too.

Nancy: Sorry- it’s just, we always walk to class together. I feel like I haven’t seen her all morning. I’ve probably been all over campus looking for her.

Dina: Uh-huh...

Nina: [mutters to Dina] See? [to Nancy] They did a room check and found her Playboys. Guess she sucks at hiding them. She’s getting chewed out for it. This is her like, third strike, they might call her dad.

Nancy Narrating: [Vanessa was constantly monitored by the teachers and church nuns, who were quick to report back to her father]

[Their most effective tool for discipline was shame]

Sister Agnes: How vile! Pornography? This is prohibited! Your father will surely not be pleased to hear about your actions, young lady.

Nancy Narrating: [Maybe that’s why she craved freedom as much as I did]

Sister Agnes: Is that what it will take for you to behave and carry yourself like a proper young lady? Will your father have to come pay you a visit?

Vanessa: [mutters] No, Sister Agnes. I will never do anything like this again. Please. Don’t call my father.

Dina: So, is your ass grass or what?

Nina: Yeah, did they bar you from going to the game?

Vanessa: Nope! Your girl is off the hook! I just have council with Father Mayhew for the next week but they’re not going to call my dad.

Nina: If anyone can weasel out of trouble, it’s you, VV.

Nancy: [sighs happily] That’s a relief.

Vanessa: Nothing will stop me from hanging out with my girls, right, Nance? Come on, let’s skip last period so we can get good seats for the game.

Vanessa: Don’t look, but is Corey Howard checking me out?

Nancy: Yeah. He can’t take his eyes off you.

Vanessa: Oh yeah? How’s my hair?

Nancy: It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Vanessa: Nancee [giggles] don’t make me blush! Cheer with me, okay?

Corey: Look alive, Osteer. The ladies are always watching.

Don: OSTEER! Look out!!

Corey: I’d die of embarrassment if it were me.

Don: [tsks] Nap time is over, princess. Hit the bench.

Nancy: You’re still so clumsy.

Geoffrey: Huh?

Nancy: Your dad threw a party once and you split your head open on the mantel. It was really disgusting.

Geoffrey: You... remember me?

Nancy: That was only 7 years ago. If either of us had amnesia, it would be you. Hold still.

Geoffrey: Well… I remember you used to cry when you got dirt in your sandals.

Nancy: What? [laughs] Did I really?

Geoffrey: [chuckles nervously] Yeah, it was kinda adorable. I mean-

Geoffrey: ...Y-you know, in a way…I guess.... um...

Vanessa: [sighs] This game is so boring, Nance. Want to get out of here?

Nancy: Of course. Wherever, whenever.

Vanessa: That’s my girl! Sorry about your face, Jeffrey.

Geoffrey: Actually, it’s Geoffrey! [sighs] ....nevermind..

Nina: I have an idea.

#the art of being seen #tw blood #the landgraabs #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 stories #ts4 simblr #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 #sims 4 community #ts4 story #nancy landgraab

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lani-heart · 3 months

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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.3k

abstract -> healing takes time...

y/n’s perspective

“His memories are still all over the place, it could be a trauma response that his brain has blocked him out from,” Doyoung said and I knew at this point this was true.

“We’ll have checkups every few months but amnesia isn’t always a happy ending,” he said and I nodded as I was led out to the waiting room.

“You really tied your own hands up when you adopted troublesome hybrids' ' I heard and I turned around to see Chenle. I smiled… “I don’t regret getting them, I love them a lot. They also make me happy. '' I said and he chuckled. “I guess that's all that matters' ' he said and I nodded.

“I remember how upset you were… with the whole break up,” he said and I sighed.

“Doesn’t matter anymore… it's almost been a year anyway” I said and he chuckled. “You’ve been busy even after starting a book after so long. I heard he got a hybrid, too though? Something about his family taking in the mother of his family’s hybrid?” he said. He didn’t even like hybrids…

“Here she is” I heard and I saw Jaemin with San. “Take care of yourself,” Chenle said and I nodded as I took San. “How was it?” I asked and he looped his arm with mine as we walked down the street.

“Find… all the memories I don't remember… is it better if I stop wanting to remember them?” he asked while looking down.

“Why don’t we find somewhere to eat huh?”

san’s perspective

She took me to a cafe I think I heard Wooyoung talk about. It seemed familiar. She ordered us some food and he stared at me for a while before she decided to speak.

“You know… you always wanted to come here?” she asked and I was shocked. “Really? Why… did I never come?” I asked and she gave me that sad smile she’s been giving me recently. “Look at the door,” she said and I did… What was so special?

“It has a bell,” she said and I looked at her confused. “You used to not be able to stand the sound of bells… it caused a negative trigger” she explained. “I know you said I was in a hybrid ring where they made hybrids kill each other… Was I a bad guy?” I asked worriedly and she smiled.

“No… you’re the sweetest hybrid I could ask for '' she said and I was relieved that she said so but something that didn’t stop haunting me suddenly resurfaced. “Then why did I hurt you?” I asked and she sighed.

“Because you hate humans and what they did to you. You thought I'd be the same” she explained, but I shook my head. “I feel comfortable with you though… I love being around you, why would I ever…” I trailed off feeling my vision start to blur.

“Here’s your food” I heard as the waiter put our food in front of us. An iced tea and chocolate pancakes… “You really liked chocolate I found out… but if you don’t like it I'll–” “Thank you… you seem to know so much about me” I said and she smiled.

“I like to think I do,” she said with a soft smile and I nodded. “I’m just sad… I don’t remember much about you. I just know how I feel” I confessed and she nodded. “Well, who says you can’t ask me again?” she asked and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re so patient… thank you,” I said and she nodded. “Always”

I know all of the hybrids back home hate humans. Wooyoung was abandoned and called annoying or anything similar all his life besides when with her. He’s known her the longest and we’ve been friends since we met. Yeosang absolutely hates the higher class… but is insanely involved with her. I know the tigers were abused all their lives to perform dangerous stunts.

Not all humans were the same… she was really kind. I know I could trust her with anything and have never felt unsafe since returning with her.

I also know I made her my mate… I was her first hybrid. I belonged by her side.

As we made it to the apartment I decided to ask…

“So should I just stop trying to remember everything?” I asked and she sighed. “One time you told me… you wish to forget everything that used to make you sad or angry. So… it’s your choice and whatever choice you choose I'll still be here” she said and I nodded.

“y/nie! Sannie!” I heard Wooyoung as he talked to me in a hug. “Everything is okay Wooyoung. I brought some food” she said. She mentioned that if she was getting food for me she’d have to get it for everyone… She truly cared for everyone.

I know I hurt her… but that didn’t make her scared of me. I’ve seen how her friends look at me and the orange tigers… but she always seems to reassure me.

While Wooyoung called for everyone, I decided to pull aside the tiger… “Can we talk?” I asked and his eyes shook but nodded. He avoided me more than everyone else. Even the white tiger made an effort to befriend me.

“Are you alright?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t remember much but I feel annoyed by you…” I said and he nodded, not surprised. “Can… we get along?” I asked and his eyes widened with his tail suddenly twitching, catching him by surprise.

“Why all of a sudden?” he asked and I sighed. “She… she seemed to forgive me for hurting her and I know she also forgave you. I wanted to try following her example” I said and he sighed. “You don’t have to forgive me. What I did–” “Was just as bad as me apparently… I don’t remember much but I do remember hurting her. We both were wrong about her huh?” I asked and he nodded.

“I will never forgive myself for what I did,” he said and I chuckled. “Neither will I,” I confessed.

“Can you make me a promise?” I asked and he nodded eagerly. “I know you try your best to protect so please… When I'm not by her side and I'm often not, I don't like leaving the apartment. Please continue to protect her” I asked and he smiled.

“You didn’t have to ask that,” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, hyung!”

y/n’s perspective

The panther was more cuddly than usual. He was already asleep, hugging me in his sleep when I heard a knock.

“Come in,” I said and I saw Hongjoong. “Need anything?” I asked and he laughed. “I don’t think you can offer anything while trapped by San,” he said and I noticed slowly he started calling everyone by their name. Not panther… nor doberman… nor fox. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung he’s been calling them.

“He seems to be getting better,” Hongjoong said and I nodded. “I’m glad he is… he’s more energetic too,” I said and he chuckled.

“He forgave me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen and even a smile grow on my face. “I know… he’s okay,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “You and Seonghwa are getting along with everyone… I’m glad” I said and he nodded.

“Thank you… truly for adopting s even though I’m trouble” he said and I offered a smile. “I’m glad… I enjoy the chaos” I said and he smiled. His tail swished back and forth happily.

“I did have a request though,” he said. “Anything,” I said and he chuckled.

“Well… now that Wooyoung is in the process of moving into San’s room… could I possibly get my own room?”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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strawberrybuni · 3 months

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I MISS YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING

Pairings(separate): Satoru x reader, Suguru x reader, Kento x reader, Toji x reader, Choso x reader Summary: You had a bad accident that gave you amnesia, and you no longer remember him, and he just can't seem to move on Word Count: 4.1k CW: a LOT of angst, hurt no comfort :( A/N: I'd rather jump into a volcano than make choso cry tbh

GOJO SATORU

Satoru was someone who never bothered with dating. After all, he was such a busy man, he didn't really have time to even think about all that, yet he somehow managed to find time for you. The two of you were damn near inseparable, twin flames if you will.

You were a talented sorcerer, a grade 1 and always improving. He always took so much pride in your growth and how you strived to continue to get stronger alongside him. You two used to spend as much time together as possible, but now he's grateful if you even respond to one of his texts.

About a year ago, you two were on a mission, and a curse user caught you off guard, getting you bad with an attack. You had suffered some pretty intense injuries, it was a miracle you were even still alive. However, your injuries came with a permanent scar, amnesia.

Your memories were completely shot, either in bits and pieces, or just completely gone from your head altogether. Unfortunately for him, he was completely wiped from your brain. Even worse? Your attitude towards him took a complete 180. The fire of once being his twin flame now completely put out with zero chance of it being relit. He wasn't sure if you not remembering various events of your life altered your personality and the way you thought, but you practically hated him now.

Any time he tries to speak to you, he's met with glares, eye rolls, and half assed responses. It didn't stop him from talking to you, though. He would rather you be rude to him than never talk to him again.

Satoru is a man who never spoke on how things affected him or how they made him feel. No one knew how he reread your old text messages over and over again, or how he cries sometimes over the loss of you. No one knew how he lost countless hours of sleep just looking over your vids and pics that you two had taken when you were still together.

No one knew how he was dying on the inside.

“You gonna stay up here moping all day, or try talking to them?” He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as Shoko came to stand beside him.

He had been in his usual spot watching you from above as you trained with the students. He had been lost in thought, fantasizing about how the training would’ve been going if things were as they used to be.

“Nah, I already bothered them today. Maybe I will later though.” He responded with his usual grin, but she saw right through his facade.

They stood there in silence, just watching, the faint sound of laughter filling the air. To Satoru, it almost felt like the universe was laughing at him. First he loses his one and only best friend, and now he's being forced to lose his one true love. Love really is the worst curse of them all, huh?

“You can talk to me, you know,” Shoko finally spoke after a few moments, not wanting to see her friend suffering alone. “It's fine, there's nothing to talk about anyways.”

“But there is Satoru. You might think you have everyone fooled and thinking that you’re unbothered by what happened, but not me. You don't.. have to go through all this alone.”

He mulled over her words for a few moments before shrugging slightly, deciding to be somewhat honest. “I guess I just.. don't find any point in talking about it. They don't love me anymore, and that's that. All I can do is accept it and go forward. If I push too much, they'll end up hating me more than they already do.”

He didn't want to accept it, though. God what he’d give to have you by his side once again. There aren't any lengths he wouldn't go to just to have you remember him. To call him Toru again. To love him again.

“Well that's surprisingly mature of you.” she teased with a sympathetic smile, causing him to pout. “Heyyy! I can be mature!”

She laughed at his whine, then smiled softly as she rubbed his back. “Just know we're all worried about you, okay? If you ever need anything, I’m a text away.”

He nodded with a smile, not bothering to say anything as he watched her leave. His smile slowly faded once she was out of sight, his attention being on you once again. He brought a finger up to pull his blindfold down around his neck as he watched you, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I really do miss you, sweetheart.”

GETO SUGURU

You were out and about with your friends, having a good day out in the nice weather. You had since recovered from the accident you were in, the same accident that gave you a nasty case of amnesia. You had lost a decent portion of your memories. Fortunately, you remembered most of your friends and they’ve all bee a great help in helping you readjust.

“So uh.. how’s it been between you and Suguru?” One of them asks out of the blue. Suguru, your boyfriend before your accident 6ish months ago who was no longer playing that role in your life. “I mean, there’s nothing really going on, we talk sometimes if that’s what you’re asking”

“Well I was just wondering because he’s kind of sort of..” Your friend trailed off, motioning discreetly in a direction to which your eyes followed. Your eyes made contact with his as you found him to be leaning against a wall not far from where you and your friends are, a frown instantly gracing your lips. “Give me a moment."

You got up, incredibly upset as you made your way over him. You had felt a lot of sympathy towards him given the circumstances. You couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for your lover to suddenly no longer remember you. So, you agreed to try and make a relationship work, but after a few months, you found you just aren't into him anymore. No matter what you did, you just couldn't find that love for him again. So, you broke it off and offered to just be friends, not for him to borderline stalk you.

“What the fuck Suguru? Why are you here?” You ask, since this isn’t exactly the first time he’s appeared ‘randomly’ where you happen to be. “I just happened to be in the area.”

“Bullshit. That’s your excuse every time I catch you lurking. I know I said we could be friends, but this is the opposite of how friends should act.”

Suguru frowned at your words. He hated when you referred to him as just some friend. He didn’t want to be your friend, he wanted his title as your boyfriend back. Yes he agreed to being friends, but that was only so he could continue to try and recapture your heart.

“Well apologies Y/N, I actually was in the area I just.. was curious about what you were up to and followed for a bit.”

“Do you not realize how weird that is? What if I’m on a date, then what?” His frown deepened at your response. “You’re already going on dates?”

“Oh my god I can’t keep having the same conversation with you.”

Time and time again, he would insert himself into your personal affairs as if he was still your boyfriend. He’d get pushy for answers, needing to know what you’re doing. He just misses when you’d give him those silly little updates on what’s going on throughout your day. All of your selfies, your audio messages. God he misses it all. He didn’t mean to act like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself.

“What I do in MY dating life is MY business. We are not a thing anymore Suguru, get that through your head.”

“How do you expect me to do that, huh? How do you expect me to be okay with watching you go out with some other dude, to let him know you like I knew you. For him to attempt to love you the way I loved you. You’re being unfair, no?"

“Honestly I'm being really fair. I have done nothing but try to make things work because you seemed like genuinely a nice guy. Unfortunately, it didn’t play out how we hoped it would. I set my boundaries in us just being friends and you’re the one continuing to push my boundaries again and again. So no Suguru, you’re the one being unfair.”

You were right, and he knew that, but he just can’t go on without you, and doing this almost made him feel apart.

“Look Suguru, because I’m so generous, I’ll give you one last fucking chance. Push my boundaries again and I’m blocking you. Got it?” You asked, to which he nodded. “Got it.”

He watched you return to your friends, hands in his pockets as he left. He had no intentions of stopping, he just was going to be smarter and sneakier about things. You’ll love him again one day, he has to keep believing that for the sake of his sanity. He just has to.

NANAMI KENTO

Your feet dragged against the carpeted floor as you made your way down the hallway to Kento’s apartment. It felt like it went on forever as the feeling of dread bubbled up in your chest at what you were about to do.

Bringing your hand up, you gently knock a few times, anxiously awaiting for him to open the door.

“Ah, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you. It’s a pleasant surprise, I was actually in the midst of cooking if you’d like to come in.” Kento’s face was kind, eyes almost pleading for you to accept his offer. He missed you in ways you could never even begin to imagine, which is why it was making it so hard for you to go through with this.

“Thank you, but that's okay. I just um.. I came to return this to you.” You held out your hand, your engagement ring resting in your palm.

Kento felt his mouth run dry.

“What? Why.. why are you..” He tried to find the words to speak, his mind unable to comprehend what you're doing, thoughts going a mile a minute.

“I'm sorry Nanami, I really really am. I’ve been trying to find those feelings again, to feel what I felt before the accident, to remember you. I just.. it’s been months now and I just can't go on with this engagement, because at this rate I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that love for you again. I’m.. I'm sorry.”

You truly felt remorseful, he seemed like such a wonderful man, you can understand why you fell for him in the first place. But for some reason, you just weren't in love with him anymore. The love you once felt for him was long gone.

Ever since your accident, the two of you tried everything to get you to remember. Hell, he’d be fine with you falling in love with him all over again. He doesn't care, just as long as you two are together.

You’re the love of his life, you’re the oxygen he breathes. Irreplaceable. No one could ever compare to you in his eyes, he just can't live without you. Your wedding was supposed to be in a few months, and what was supposed to be the happiest day of his life was slowly slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“No, no no, wait please Y/N. Can't we just try a little longer? I don't mean to be pushy but I feel like we were really getting somewhere and–” Please don't do this. “But we weren't, I was just forcing it because I didn't want to hurt you–”

“I just don't understand why we can't keep trying, we had so many plans together Y/N. Marriage, kids, a house in Malaysia.”

“And that sounds lovely but Nanami–”

“Stop calling me that.” The air around you two fell awkwardly silent. “Call me Ken.. please.. like you always have.” His voice was broken, defeated. He's dealt with so much loss in his life, he couldn't bear to lose you too.

His days have become so devoid of the color you once brought to his life. Before you, he was simply going through the motions of life because that's what he had to do. Now that he’s had you, he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore. He doesn’t want to go back to how it was before you.

“I’m sorry I just..” He sighed, a hand coming up to rub his face. He didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, he really didn't, but god he was so desperate to try and get you to change your mind. “You’re everything to me. Without you I just.. I'm a shell of a man. Things aren't the same without you by my side. Please can't we just keep trying for a little longer? We could have a breakthrough.”

You listened to his ramble, but you weren't budging. You didn't think it was healthy for him to keep holding onto something that just was no longer written in the stars.

“I can't anymore Kento, I don’t.. I don't want to do this anymore, I'm sorry. I think continuing to try is a lost cause, and only it's filling you with false hope.” He remained silent at your words, nodding in reluctant acceptance, knowing pushing the envelope wouldn't end in his favor.

“Alright.. may I request one last thing from you, before you go?” He asks, fighting back his tears and emotions. “Please, stay for dinner. Cooking for you was something that always bought me joy and.. I'd like to at least sit and eat with you one last time.”

You thought for a few moments before nodding, it was the least you could do. You'd give him this one last thing before you leave for good.

Originally, Kento wasn't going to go back to sorcerer work, since he didn't want to risk his life and leave you alone, but after you had left and he thought it over again, he decided he would accept Gojo’s request for his assistance.

He had decided on his plan. Once this final mission in Shibuya is all said and done, he'd leave for Malaysia, and maybe, just maybe finally have a better life for himself there.

What could possibly go wrong?

FUSHIGURO TOJI

Love was something Toji never thought he'd ever try again. He had no interest in commitment in the slightest. If it wasn't just a quick fuck or a dynamic that benefitted him in some way, he truly just couldn’t give a damn.

That was, until you appeared in his life.

What started out as just a friends with benefits type relationship, it slowly morphed into the both of you desiring more from each other.

You both understood each other. You were both from tragic backgrounds and dark pasts, and you two accepted good with the bad from one another. You two were so happy and in love.

Until the accident.

You were a curse user like him, and went on missions the same way he did. However, one really bad impact to the head had you in the hospital for a good few months. You were in a coma, and everyday he prayed that you would wake up. Although, now he kind of wishes that you did.

When you had awoken, you had lost various memories, including him. You didn't remember meeting him, all the moments you two shared, when he finally started telling you he loved you, none of it. And it killed him, not that he’d ever say it aloud.

When he told you how he was your boyfriend, while yes you found him to be very attractive, you just didn't feel the same about him anymore. You were always a closed off guarded individual due to your trauma. Yet for some reason back then, you allowed him into your heart. This time, however, you had zero interest in that.

Toji felt so many things. He was angry, confused, and heartbroken. How could you not remember all the times you two shared? Why did you not even want to try? Why didn't you care?

All the self improvement you helped him with all went down the drain. He just didn't care about anything or anyone anymore. Losing his first wife was hard, it destroyed him. Now he's losing you, except you're not even actually gone. You're right there, before his eyes, and has to watch you continue to live your life without him.

“Shiu! That stupid mission was a– oh, um, hi Toji.” You awkwardly greeted him as you entered the office, not expecting to see him during your visit to Shiu. The tension in the room grew thick as Shiu cleared his throat. “I'm uh, gonna go smoke this. I'll be right back.” That bastard.

An awkward silence hung in the air before Toji decided to break it. “So, you seein’ anyone?

“I don't really think that's–”

“It's just a harmless question, doll.” His tone is borderline condescending, you let it slide though. “I was, not anymore though.”

Toji bit back a laugh at that. He liked to believe that deep down in your subconscious, you needed him just the way you always have, and that you’d never find another person who’d make you feel as he did.

“Yeah? And why's that?” He pressed, wanting any indication that his theory had any basis in reality. “Why does even that matter? It’s none of your business.”

You shot him down. Any time you two bumped into each other, he always pulled this. He'd get far too nosy about your dating life and you were tired of it. You understand that you two were in love before and that it's hard for him, but he needed to let it go. You weren’t interested and that was that.

“Ya know, if you ever want–”

“No.”

Toji frowned, irritation bubbling his chest from your immediate rejection. “I wasn't looking for a relationship doll, just a good fuck. You really think I wanna be bothered with you again? I barely wanted to even when we were together.” He spoke harshly, none of his words even being true.

He hated himself for the way he was treating you, but he just couldn't stop himself. Hurt people hurt people, after all.

“Just tell Shiu to call me. I'm leaving.” Before he could say anything, you were already out the door, refusing to take his attitude any longer.

Whatever, he was fine before without you anyway. He'll continue to tell himself that doesn't need you until he finally tricks his mind into believing it's true.

CHOSO

Loud knocks at your door awoke you from your sleep, having fallen asleep by mistake on the couch. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you reached for your phone to check the time.

Nearly 2AM.

“Y/N?? A-Are you in there? Please I-I just wanna talk.” A once all too familiar voice sounded from the other side of the door, and you knew it was him.

Choso, the man who apparently was your boyfriend before your accident.

A sigh left your lips, you already knew what this was about. You had blocked him on everything because you believed this would be beneficial to him. You felt this would help him move on, because that's simply what he was going to have to do. Yet he just wouldn't.

You reluctantly made your way to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. He looked like a mess. His eyes were bloodshot, red and puffy from what you could only assume was from hours of crying. His stripe on his nose was dripping, as if his emotions were pouring from it. He truly looked pitiful.

“Choso..” You felt awful, you really did. You didn't mean to cause this man so much pain and turmoil, but you weren't going to fake being in love with him. That wouldn't make the situation any better.

“W-Why? Y-You– you blocked me? Why?” He stuttered out, once dried tears slowly beginning to wet his face once again as he started to cry, his breaths coming out shaky and broken.

You let him inside, worried about him having an anxiety attack and nosy neighbors being in your business.

“Choso I'm really going to need you to breathe–” The second the door is shut, he’s pulling you in for a tight hug, his body shaking as small cries leave him. “Choso–”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry. I just need t-to touch you” You suppose you could give him this. “Okay but you're squeezing me too tight, you're going to hurt me if you don't loosen up.”

You two stood like that for a few moments. You offered comfort to the best of your ability, rubbing his back soothingly. You knew you needed to calm him down as much as possible for the news you were going to break to him.

“I think.. we should sit and talk.” Your soft voice broke the silence. You gently removed yourself from his tight hold, guiding him to sit on the couch.

“I.. blocked you because I felt it’s for the best” You turned your head away from him, the sad puppy dog look in his eyes making you feel far too guilty. “I know before my accident we were together and in love but.. I need you to understand that I no longer feel that way. I don't remember you anymore–”

“B-But that doesn't mean you c-can’t remember one day, right? R-Right??” That was something you didn't have an answer for.

“I don’t–”

“B-But you remember everyone else, w-why not me? Why don't you r-remember me?” He begged for an answer, shaky hands coming to hold yours, squeezing them tight. “T-There has to be s-something we can do right? Maybe Shoko could d-do something, anything. We just need to–”

“Choso, please just stop.” You felt a pang in your heart as his shoulders slumped, but you had to throw the cold water in his face. “There is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry, I am. I wish for your sake that I could wake up with all my memories of you back but I just can't. I'm just.. not interested in you in that way anymore.” You slowly pulled your hands from his, resting yours in your lap as you continued. This really sucked.

“I thought maybe we could be friends, and over time either my memories would return or I'd develop feelings for you again but.. I just don't feel that way towards you. And you're so.. clingy. The way you are is unhealthy Choso. You have to move on.”

His eyes went wide at your words, his world shattering before him as he rapidly shook his head. “No. No no no I-I don't want to do that. I can't do that p-please.”

“You're going to have to. I know I was your first love, but I promise you'll find someone else who will–”

“I-I don't want anyone else I-I want you. I don’t want to e-ever even think about m-my life without you p-please, I’ll do a-anything Y/N please.”

He was becoming hysterical again and you're far too exhausted to be able to properly calm him down. Besides, he'd just do what he's been doing for the last two months. He'll cry and cry until you feel guilty enough to change your mind. Not this time.

“I'm sorry Choso, but I need you to leave. It’s over” You stood up from the couch, wanting to be done with this conversation. Giving him the cold shoulder was something you didn't necessarily want to do, but he was leaving you with no choice at this point.

As you approached your door to let him out, you heard a thud from behind you followed by a hand grasping your ankle to prevent you from going any further. The sight before you as turned your head to look only worsened how you felt.

He was on his knees, his head down, grasping your ankle in a final desperate plea. “P-Please… d-don’t do this to me..”

It was your turn for your shoulders to slump, but your mind was already made as you whispered “Please, don't make me call Yuji..”

You felt his grip loosen at your words, before completely releasing your ankle. He slowly rose to his feet, his eyes trained on the floor, knowing if he looks at you, he’ll completely crumble and he wouldn’t be able to leave. He doesn’t say another word as he leaves, knowing there’s nothing he could say that would change your mind.

“Goodbye.. Choso.” You said for the last time before closing the door.

#jujustu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #nanami kento #fushiguro toji #choso #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader

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coolemmasulivan2 · 3 months

Text

Rewinding Us | 1

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Summary: You and Mason built a love story over five years, but after an accident, your memories are wiped away, including any feelings for your constant bickering "rival". Can you remember your love story with Mason, or will you have to start all over?

Word Count: 3613

You can read part 2 here, part 3 here and part 4 here

Isn't it strange How people can change From strangers to friends Friends into lovers And strangers again?

Mason's laughter echoed across the bar area, as he leaned into a conversation with a blonde woman. Her vibrant red dress seemed to draw all the light from the sun, and the way she tilted her head towards him spoke volumes. A tingling of unfamiliar anger flared in your chest.

Eight years ago, mutual friends introduced you to Mason. Everyone predicted sparks would fly, but instead, you and Mason clashed constantly. Conversation with him often devolved into playful jabs that sometimes turned into full-blown arguments.

Then, the accident happened and something changed. Well… everything seemed to have changed.

You were on your way home from a draining workday when a drunk driver slammed into your car at a red light. The impact was brutal, leaving you in a coma for days. When you finally opened your eyes, your memories were fractured, stuck five years in the past.

The amnesia was a cruel joke. Five years vanished, leaving a hole in your life. Everywhere you turned, there was evidence of a life you couldn't recall: a new job you didn't choose, friends you couldn't place, a house that felt foreign. Most unsettling were the unfamiliar feelings stirring within you. Those weird and unfamiliar feelings.

"Who's that?" Ben asked, taking a swig of his almost empty beer.

"I don't know." You mumbled, your gaze glued to the pair.

"She's definitely something else!" Ben smirked.

"She's nothing special!" You snapped, the words leaving your mouth a little too quickly. Heat crept up your cheeks, and you looked away hoping Ben hadn't noticed.

"Jealous much?" He teased.

You scoffed. "Jealous? Please. She's most likely after his fame." Your voice lacked conviction even to your own ears.

Across the room, Mason felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest despite the woman's flirtatious banter. He only had eyes for you, even if you didn't remember the five years you'd spent tangled up in his life as his girlfriend. Just then, the bartender placed their drinks down, and Mason took his leave with a polite excuse.

"Who was that?" Ben nudged him as he sat back down.

Mason took a long pull from his beer, the bitterness mirroring the emotions churning in his gut. "Just a fan."

"Fan, huh? Looked more like a starving woman from the way she was eyeing you up." Ben's gaze flicked to you, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. "Speaking of, Y/n wasn't exactly thrilled with the view."

"What?"

On the dance floor, you laughed with Charlotte, your head thrown back in carefree joy as you moved along the music. The sight sent a jolt through him. Seeing you happy made him happy.

"Maybe that's a good thing, right?" Mason said. "Means she still cares about me, even without the memories."

"There's only one way to find out." Chimed in Benny, sliding onto the club sofa beside them. "Kiss her!"

The air crackled with tension. A knot formed in Mason's stomach. Was he right? Was there even a chance you'd feel the same if he kissed you? Or would you slap him just like the first time five years ago?

"What if it doesn't work?" Mason asked.

"At least then you know."

Reece whistled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It was a stupid prank. Mason knew it was ridiculous. The locker room pranks were a highlight of the day, a chance to goof around with the team. But this time, a knot of dread formed in his stomach.

"Seriously?" Mason's voice was tired.

"Don't be a pussy, Mason!" Reece nudged him. "It's just a kiss. A peck, really. It doesn't need to be a French kiss." The other guys burst into laughter.

Mason gave Reece a dreadful look. "Why her?" His voice was a low growl. "I'll do it with anyone else."

Christian slung an arm around Mason's shoulder. "Come on, man. Where's your sense of adventure? It wouldn't be any fun with someone else." Mason rolled his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

"She'll be at the birthday party tonight! It's your opportunity." Reece pushed, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You know the consequence if you back out."

"What was that about?" Charlotte asked softly, noticing your expression.

"Nothing!" You sighed, forcing a smile.

"It looked like something." She pressed gently. "You looked like you were ready to march over there and claim him as your territory." Charlotte exclaimed, her voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You let out a frustrated sigh. "Ugh, don't be ridiculous." You scoffed, but it lacked conviction. The truth was, the sight of Mason laughing with another woman had sparked a flicker of something unexpected in your chest.

"Maybe you're just reacting strangely because of, well…" Charlotte trailed off, gesturing vaguely towards your head.

You clenched your jaw, a flicker of frustration crossing your features. The accident had robbed you of so much, leaving you adrift in a sea of unknowns. Lately, though, especially around Mason, there were these… moments. Flashes of emotions you couldn't quite place.

"Look, I don't know what's going on in my head, but it doesn't mean I like him. We… didn't exactly get along, remember?" You trailed off, unsure how to describe your past with Mason.

Charlotte was bursting to tell you the truth, the truth about your feelings for Mason and his for you. Your relationship was no secret. Everyone knew. Everyone except you.

"I'm not saying there's something there." She hedged. "But maybe there's a spark you haven't noticed."

You scoffed, shaking your head for emphasis and taking a large sip of your drink. "No way! I never have and never will. He's just another stuck-up jock with a silver spoon up his—"

Charlotte cut you off with a pointed look. "Isn't that most of your guy friends?"

You stuttered, the truth hitting you like a cold shower. Charlotte was right. Football players were your usual crowd, and that's how you met Mason in the first place. But there was just something about him, something that had rubbed you the wrong way since the beginning.

"He's different."

Charlotte smirked. "Yes, he is." She muttered.

"Last night, I thought about looking him up on Google." You blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Charlotte's eyes widened in pure panic.

"You what?" She gasped.

"I don't even know why." You admitted, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. "I just started thinking about him, and the next thing I knew, I was typing his name into Google. Thankfully, I realised what I was doing and deleted it before I hit enter."

The internet was flooded with numerous photos of you and him, making it evident that your relationship with him had evolved into something more over the years.

"Don't google him! Just talk to him." Charlotte said. "Just because you can't recall the last five years doesn't mean your relationship with him has to remain the same as you remember, with constant arguments."

You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and glanced back. Mason was already looking at you, but he quickly looked away when you caught him.

The clean, white walls blurred as a dull ache throbbed behind your eyes. A rhythmic beeping filled the air, and panic clawed at your throat, a soundless scream trapped in your chest.

Two blurry familiar figures materialized beside the bed.

"Easy there!" A deep voice murmured. His face was etched with worry, his familiar blue eyes welling up.

"Mason?" You rasped, your voice rusty and unfamiliar. A hand grasped yours, warm and familiar. "Charlotte?"

"Yeah." He choked out, forcing a smile. "It's us. You're awake."

You tried to piece together the fragments of your shattered mind. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital." Charlotte said, her face etched with worry. "You've been in a coma for a while." The sentence sent a jolt of fear through you, questions tumbling through your mind, unanswered and terrifying. "Do you remember anything?"

You shook your head, the movement sending a fresh wave of pain through your body. "No."

A tear escaped Charlotte's eye and traced a path down her cheek. "You're okay… You're okay, that's what matters."

You shifted your gaze back to Mason, a question forming on your lips. "What are you doing here?" Your group of friends was the same, but the two of you were not exactly best friends.

The question hung heavy in the air. Mason's face drained of colour, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Wh-- What do you mean?"

"Well, we're not exactly best friends, are we? I never expected you to give up your perfect life to sit in a hospital chair waiting for me to wake up."

At that moment, you saw a flicker of something raw and painful in his eyes. You knew, with a strange certainty, that your question had shattered something inside him.

Charlotte took your hand. "Hey, look at me. What is the last thing you remember?"

You looked at her, confused as to why she was asking you that. But you closed your eyes and made an effort to think about it. "I don't know." You frustrated said. "I remember our trip to Australia."

Charlotte placed a hand over her mouth, stifling a gasp. She looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath to compose herself. Mason's reaction mirrored hers. He stood up abruptly and ran a hand through his hair. Only then did you realize he looked older from the last time you saw him.

"Y/n?" You looked at your friend, as she cleared her throat, her voice thick with emotion. "That was five years ago."

Back at the villa, a drunken haze hung heavy in the air. Everyone except Mason, who squirmed nervously as his gaze constantly darted back to you. It wasn't that you were a disaster drunk, but you were unpredictable, and he couldn't bear the thought of not being there if you needed help.

The irony tasted bitter on his tongue. The Mason you "knew" wouldn't have cared if you tripped and fell, let alone offered a hand.

The doctor's words echoed in his head: amnesia, five years vanished. Your story, a typical journey from enemies to lovers, shattered in a blink of an eye. Anger bubbled up inside him and not just for you, but for him too.

"I'm going to bed!" Ben growled, his voice higher than usual.

"I'm hungry. I want cheese!" Charlotte said, grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Mason attempted to assist Benny onto the couch. The groan that escaped Benny's lips sounded suspiciously like a death rattle, but when he managed a weak thumbs-up, Mason sighed.

He kicked off his sneakers and slid open the outdoor French doors, letting in a cool breeze. He could hear the sounds of female laughter and the clinking of glasses from the kitchen and he could picture the mess you were creating.

Suddenly, a muffled voice groaned: "Kiss her!"

Mason jolted upright, his eyes landing on Benny, who remained dead on the couch with his eyes shut.

"Dude, I thought you were sleeping!"

"I am!" He said, chuckling.

"Yeah, right." Mason grumbled, hitting Benny's head with a pillow. Benny, ever the drama king, yelped and sat up, clutching his head and muttering a curse or two.

You and Charlotte emerged from the kitchen, each sporting a triumphant grin and a sandwich. "Hungry, boys?" Charlotte asked, raising an eyebrow.

Benny eyed the sandwich with the intensity of a starving man, but after a groan that seemed to emanate from the depths of his stomach, most likely from the alcohol, he declined. Mason, too, shook his head, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features as he watched you laughing with Charlotte while sitting by the pool and eating a sandwich at three in the morning.

With a mumbled goodbye, Mason hoisted a groaning Benny to his feet and guided him up the stairs. Helping his friends into bed, Mason felt the day's weight finally lift from his body. But as he caught another glimpse of you through his bedroom window, a different tension settled in his chest. How was he supposed to act around you now? The girl he loved but doesn't even remember him like that?

"You always need to have the final word, don't you?" Mason growled, his voice laced with annoyance. You shot him a glare.

"Because you're so much better, Mr. Perfect?" You retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mason threw his hands up in exasperation. "Will you just shut up?" He groaned, the frustration evident on his face.

You crossed your arms over your chest, ready to fire back another insult, but before you could utter a word, Declan beat you to it.

"Would you two stop fighting for two seconds?" He pleaded, his voice strained. You glanced at him, his face flushed with annoyance.

"He started it!" You muttered, pointing an accusing finger at Mason.

Mason scoffed, his jaw clenched. "Me? You're the one who couldn't just let it go."

Lauren, seated beside Declan, reached over and squeezed his shoulder, her touch calming the tension radiating from him. She threw a helpless look between you and Mason, a silent plea for you both to act like mature adults. But as usual, you couldn't.

Exhaustion finally settled over Charlotte, her giggles fading into soft snores as she drifted off on the lounge chair. You watched her for a moment, jealous of her sleep escape. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the chair and slowly walked around the pool's edge.

Each step felt heavy. It was always when you were alone with your thoughts that the blank space where memories should be frustrated you the most. Friends, family, lovers – who knew who you'd lost in that time? The doctors were optimistic, suggesting the amnesia might be temporary, but the not knowing worried you.

As you stepped forward, you didn't see where you were placing your bare foot and a surprised yelp escaped your lips. You closed your eyes ready to embrace the cold water but before you knew it, a strong hand grabbed your arm, pulling you back with surprising ease. You landed against Mason's chest, his familiar scent washing over you.

His scent is so familiar, you thought to yourself.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You looked up into his eyes, seeing a flicker of worry and something else that made your breath hitch. You both leaned in, the unspoken feelings and longing hanging heavy in the air.

Then, you remembered who he was. "Take your hands off, Mount!" You mumbled, pushing away from him a little too forcefully.

Mason's playful grin faded. "Are you sure you want that?" He challenged, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yes!" You said, trying to sound tougher than you felt.

He held his gaze for a second longer, then quickly released his grip. You took a triumphant step back and before you could react, you were falling backwards.

Panic. A scream ripped from your throat as you plummeted towards the cold water. A strong arm wrapped around your waist just in time. Mason pulled you back against him with a grunt, his grip firm and protective.

"That's what I thought." He smirked, a hint of concern lingering in his voice.

Silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. The hand that held your waist felt imprinted onto your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your eyes drifted down, drawn to his lips, something you don't remember noticing before. A strange urge buzzed through you. Maybe it was the disorientation, but before you knew it, you were both leaning in.

"What's happening?" Charlotte called out, rubbing her blurry eyes, her voice laced with concern. Both you and Mason jolted apart, a blush creeping up your neck. The tension slowly drained away, replaced by a cold jolt of reality.

"Nothing!" You stuttered, forcing a smile at Charlotte. "Just a little clumsy." Feeling awkward and desperate to break the tension, you blurted out, "Uh, I think I'm going to bed… Goodnight!" Without another word, you turned and fled inside the house.

Charlotte saw you entering the house, and then her gaze flicked to Mason, who was now staring intently at the pool. A slow realization dawned on her face.

"Oh no!" She drawled, her voice filled with despair. "Did I interrupt something?"

The music pulsed through the air, a relentless bass beat vibrating in Mason's chest. Sarah's birthday celebration was a joyful gathering, filled with laughter and people swaying to the music. His eyes, however, were trained on you, across the room, lost in conversation with a group of girls, your laugh ringing in the air.

Every muscle in Mason's body screamed in agony. This was a terrible idea, a prank gone way too far, but the memory of Reece's ultimatum and the relentless teasing he'd face if he backed out helped him gain courage. He took a deep breath and a long sip of his beer.

He navigated the crowded room, dodging spilled drinks. As he drew closer, he could see the happiness on your face, the way your eyes sparkled with joy. He was close enough now to hear part of your conversation, making you throw your head back and laugh. The sound of your laughter did something strange to him. Something different and new.

Taking a final breath, he stopped in front of you and your smile faded as his shadow loomed over you.

"What do you want, Mason?" You asked, annoyance lacing your voice.

He shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Just, wanted to say hi."

You raised an eyebrow. "Right… Because that's something you normally do."

He ran his hand over his hair, avoiding your gaze. "Look, can we just talk for a second?"

You hesitated, your friends giving you curious looks. Finally, you sighed. "Fine. But make it quick." You stepped away from the group and into a quieter corner of the room. "What?" You hissed.

"Just…" He mumbled, looking like he was about to swallow his tongue. "This!"

Before you could react, he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. It wasn't gentle, more like a surprise attack. Your eyes flew open, and your first instinct was to shove him away, but for some reason, you didn't. Maybe it was the shock, but you found yourself frozen.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it ended. You jerked your head back, a look of pure fury on your face.

"What the fuck was that?" You yelled, slapping him hard across the face, the sound loud enough to cause the closest heads to turn your way.

Mason stumbled back, hand flying to his cheek, a perplexed look on his face. "Wow! Okay, bad idea!"

You glared at him, your chest heaving. "The worst idea ever, Mount. The absolute worst." Spinning on your heel, you stormed back to your friends, leaving a stunned Mason, replaying the heat of the kiss and the unexpected spark running through his body.

You bolted upright in bed, the sheets tangled around you. The dream was vivid and confusing. The taste of Mason's lips, the anger, the heat – it all felt real.

Before you could even think about it, you were out of bed, fueled by a restless energy and a burning need for answers. You stormed down the hallway, the silence broken only by your pounding heart and fast footsteps. Mason's bedroom door was shut, but that didn't stop you as you opened it.

Mason was sprawled across his bed, his bare chest at display. The dim glow of moonlight fell across his face, highlighting the peaceful lines of his sleep.

"Mason!" You called, hitting his leg under the sheet to wake him up. "Mount, wake up!" He jolted upright, his eyes wide with surprise.

"What the hell, Y/N?" He said, his voice thick with sleep.

"Why did you kissed me?" You demanded, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and confusion. He blinked, trying to focus on what you were saying. "Did you thought it was a good idea? Did you had fun?"

"Wha-- what are you talking about? Slow down." He mumbled, his brain struggling to catch up.

"Don't play dumb!" You hissed. "Sarah's birthday party, remember? Years ago! You… kissed me!" You gestured wildly with your hands. "Was it a joke? Was I just some random target?"

Mason finally seemed to grasp the situation. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "Y/N, slow down. Please!" He sat down, leaning against the headboard. You were finally remembering something.

"Slow down?" You shouted, incredulous. Your frustration boiled over, and you hit him lightly on the chest. "I woke you up because you're confusing! One minute you're arguing with me, the next you're… invading my personal space!"

"Hey!" He protested, catching your wrists and pulling you down on the bed next to him. "Whoa, calm down. You're gonna wake up the whole house." He held your gaze, his voice softer now.

You glared at him, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Let go of me, Mount!" You snapped. The memory of the kiss, the way your body had reacted despite your initial resistance, felt like a betrayal. "I hate you!" You mumbled.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your face. "Do you really, Y/N?" His voice was a low murmur, sending shivers down your spine. You could feel the heat radiating from him.

The anger you felt was fading fast, replaced by a confusing mix of emotions. Did you actually hated him?

#mason mount fluff #mason mount imagines #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mm7 #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #Rewinding Us

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qqueenofhades · 1 year

Text

Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #look this probably could have been twice as long #but i had to stop somewhere #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS

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writingforstraykids · 6 months

Text

I owe you a kiss - Pt.5

Pairing: Minchan x femReader

Word Count: 3431

Summary: Chan and Minho enjoy their evening together before realizing how much they truly missed each other over the past six months. After their shared lazy night, they get an important call...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, domestic shit, cuddles, smut, touch starved!chan, soft!min, soft!chan, they're cheesy af sorry, amnesia, angst

A/N: This is mainly sweet and fluffy...I swear🥺🖤

PART FOUR | PART SIX

Minho smiles softly to himself as he watches Chan making them dinner. He sneaks up on him and wraps his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. “You're doing well,” he compliments him.

“Yeah?” Chan chuckles.

“Mhm,” Minho hums, and Chan gently blows on a spoon with some of the sauce before holding it up for him to taste. Minho does, and it's quiet for a moment. “Channie.”

“That bad?” he asks nervously.

Minho reaches into the cupboard above them and grabs the salt. “You forgot the salt again?”

“Shit, you're right,” Chan groans, and Minho giggles at him.

He plants a soft kiss on his cheek and squeezes him. “It's not bad, love. Just needs a little salt. It happens.”

“What would I do without you, huh? All that spice missing in my life,” Chan jokes, and Minho snorts.

“Mhm, sure, salt is the only spice you'd be missing,” he comments, making Chan laugh.

“Dummy,” he giggles and adds some salt. “Okay, almost done.” Chan turns in his hold and looks at him with a soft smile. His heart melts at the sight of Minho in a shirt of his, a pair of comfortable sweatpants and his glasses. He soothingly fondles up his arms and plants a kiss on his forehead. “You're so pretty, you know?” he asks softly, and Minho giggles. Chan gently brushes his hair back, which has gotten longer, and caresses his cheek.

“That's because of you,” he fondly rolls his eyes.

“Oh, really? Didn't know I was part of the process of creating you,” he snorts, and Minho gently shoves his chest.

“You know the saying about how one gets prettier when they're happy,” he says and searches his eyes. “You're the one making me happy.”

“Who's being cheesy now, huh?” he smirks.

“Yeah, yeah, your sauce’s gonna burn if you don't stop staring into my soul soon,” Minho points out, and Chan's eyes widen before he spins around quickly.

“Oh, baby,” he curses as he realizes Minho tricked him, now giggling behind him. “You can't shock me like that.”

“My bad, didn't know you were so-Chan!” Minho protests with a squeak as Chan tickles his side and tries to squirm away. “No, no, don't you even start that,” he says and jokingly raises his fists, ready to fight him.

Chan grins and gets back to finishing dinner.

After dinner, they're cuddled up on the sofa and Chan's feeding him with small brownie bites from time to time. A movie is playing in the background, and he doesn't pay much attention to it. He feels truly happy here with Chan for the first time in a while. Chan's hand is soothingly running through his hair, mindlessly rubbing down his back in between. It's peaceful and comfortable, and Minho can't help but wish you were here as well. His thoughts start wandering, and suddenly, Chan pulls him into his lap, gently kissing his cheek, and lets him cuddle up against him. Minho inhales his so familiar scent and buries his nose in his shirt for a moment, feeling a sense of home wash over him. He doesn't know why, but the urge to be as close as possible to Chan clouds his senses with sheer force, and his grip on his shirt subconsciously tightens.

Chan picks up on it and doesn't say anything, simply letting his hand travel down his back and then rest on his thigh to test the waters.

Minho tenses up in his lap and bites his lower lip, unsure if he should tell him to move his hand away or continue whatever the hell he's doing. Chan makes the decision for him, mindlessly rubbing his thigh, and Minho sits up straight, looking at him with blown eyes. “Channie?”

“Yeah?” he asks, breath hitching as their eyes meet. The pure love and vulnerability in his husband's eyes make his stomach all fuzzy.

“I…uh,” he stops himself, unsure if he should tell Chan. It's been so long, and he isn't sure if Chan finds him attractive in this sense at the moment.

Chan searches his eyes before connecting their lips to a soft kiss. Minho's hand shoots up and cups his face, humming into the feeling. “You were saying kitten?” Chan asks quietly as he pulls back again.

“I miss you,” he says, not knowing how else to express his feelings. Chan blinks at him in confusion for a moment before realizing what he means. “You're right; those six months have been very long.”

Chan hums softly and searches his eyes. “You're sure?” he checks in gently, and Minho nods almost timidly. “You uh..you still want that?” he asks.

Minho frowns at him softly. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he nods quickly. “Just…I didn't think you'd still want me after all those months of keeping my distance and-.”

Minho shuts him up with a long, fierce kiss. “I'll never stop loving you even if there are times when you don't know how to give anything back,” he tells him, and Chan knows he's telling the truth. Those four months before the accident prove every word. “And I'll always want you, Chan. We got married because I want every piece of you, every sweet smile, every rough edge, every bit you may be insecure about. I chose you, and I'll choose you again and again...Okay?” he asks sweetly.

Chan blinks at him, stunned, eyes shimmering suspiciously. “Okay,” he whispers.

Minho presses their foreheads together and gently fondles up his chest. “Nothing crazy. Just you and me. Lazy and soft as you love it.”

Chan's grip on him involuntarily tightens. “Now?” he breathes out.

“We can make an appointment in two weeks if that's what you'd like. I'm free at-,” he breaks off giggling as Chan gets up with him in his arms.

“Idiot,” he mutters softly and carries him upstairs to their bedroom, lowering him into the mattress. “I'll be back in a moment,” he promises and kisses him longingly.

Minho smiles and watches him gather everything they'd need. Chan climbs back into bed and takes off his glasses for him with a soft smile. Minho's hand makes its way into his curls and pulls him into a slow, sweet kiss. Chan gets onto his knees and pulls him up, straddling his lap. He helps him out of his shirt and kisses him again. Minho's hands slip beneath his shirt, gently pulling it up, and Chan mewls into the kiss as his fingers trace his skin. “M-Min,” he stammers, and Minho blinks at him before teasingly brushing his fingertip over Chan's nipple. His husband tenses up with a soft moan, and Minho's eyes widen.

“I completely forgot you haven't been touched at all in half a year,” he admits and gently pushes him back down into the mattress before climbing in his lap. He experimentally grinds down against him, and Chan's head falls back with a beautiful moan. “I think I know what you need now,” Minho smirks and falls back into the pillows, grabbing the bottle of lube close to him. Chan watches him, stunned, as Minho shoves down his sweatpants and boxers with a swift move and covers his fingers in lube. “Enjoying the show?” he asks teasingly and Chan nods, laughing softly. Minho relaxes before gently working his first finger inside his hole, lips parting with a gasp.

Chan had seen him do so a thousand times whenever Minho got too impatient for long foreplay, but he'd never get tired of the sight. The way his face slowly contorts with pleasure as he works in another finger in no time, the way his body tenses when he hits a good spot, the soft pants, and the low moans he tries to hold back in the beginning. Minho squints at him. “Well, get undressed, pretty,” he tells him and bites his lower lip hard as he slowly stretches himself with his fingers.

“You're insane,” Chan giggles softly but does as he says and throws his clothes onto the floor next to Min's discarded shirt. By the time he's done, Minho is ready and instructs him to get comfortable next to him. Chan does and watches him curiously as Minho climbs into his lap. A few soft kisses down his neck and a few soft strokes are enough to make him whimper already. Min giggles before slowly sinking down on him. Chan's hands grip his hips, bracing him as he does, and he can't hold back a moan at Minho's relieved expression, finally feeling him again.

Minho moans sweetly as Chan's fully buried inside of him and takes a moment to get used to the feeling again. “Fuck, I missed you,” he chuckles breathlessly after a moment, and Chan giggles, squirming a little beneath him.

“I don't think I'll last long,” he tells him, blushing a little.

Minho smirks and gently pats his chest. “That's okay, love. We have all the time we need tonight, yeah?”

Chan nods and is about to answer, but his jaw drops with a weak groan as Minho lifts his hips. “Oh, fuck,” he whispers, and Minho takes it as encouragement to keep moving. None of them expects it, but after a few slow rolls of Minho's hips Chan starts struggling already. “Min-fuck, wait, please-” He tenses up with a loud whine of his name and paints his walls with thick ropes of cum. Minho watches him, stunned, as Chan beneath him weakly thrusts back, riding out his orgasm. Their eyes meet, and Chan turns crimson red, covering his face with his arm. “Oh God, no,” he whines softly.

Minho giggles and leans down, gently easing his arm from his face. “Hey, no hiding,” he says softly.

“This is embarrassing,” he protests softly.

“I told you, darling, we have time,” he assures him. “I'll take it as a compliment,” he smirks and Chan's jaw drops a little before he laughs.

Chan takes a deep breath and gently fondles Minho's thighs, sinking deep into his eyes. “Okay, you can move,” he tells him after a bit.

Minho kisses him lovingly and moves on top of him, moaning softly as he rolls his hips. “Chan, please,” he breathes out.

Chan gets the message and lifts him off his dick, flipping them over so Minho's on his back now. He braces himself on his arms next to his head and captures his lips in a long, sweet kiss, hand fondling down his side. Minho beneath him moans beautifully and buries his hand in his hair. “I nearly forgot how pretty you truly are,” Chan tells him, and Minho doesn't protest, blushing at his words. “But you're still as beautiful as ever no matter what you do,” he goes on and kisses Minho's neck, making the younger one whine softly. “It's ridiculous sometimes how much I long to be close to you in every way possible.”

“Channie,” Minho whispers with a shy smile, wrapping his legs around his waist. “My sweet Channie.”

Slowly, Chan pushes his dick back inside, making them both moan out shamelessly loud in pure relief. He pushes deeper with every slow drag of his hips until he's fully buried inside him, and Minho sighs contently. Chan's hand digs deep into his golden skin as he grabs his thigh and Minho clenches around him. Chan kisses down his jaw, starting a slow, gentle pace for now. “I missed you so much, baby,” he admits. “Not just back in Australia.”

“I know, love,” he assures him and soothingly fondles his head. “I missed you too, so much.”

He moans sweetly as he pushes in deeper and buries his face in his chest. “Shit, baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm for me, kitten.” Minho whimpers in response, so high and desperate it ignites a fire deep inside Chan he hadn't felt in a while. Thrusting forward, Minho's head falls back with a soft, breathy moan. “Taking me so well, kitten, fuck,” Chan tells him, the room slowly filling with the sound of their skin slapping over and over again.

“K-Keep talking,” he barely gets out, his insides burning in need already. His grip on his hair tightens and he can't stop the whimpers and tiny moans leaving him.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Chan tells him and adjusts the angle of his hips a little. “So-ohh- fucking pretty.”

His next thrust has Minho arching off the bed, mouth falling open with a loud whine and eyes fluttering close. “Ch-Channie,” is all he can say before Chan repeats the motion, making his thighs tremble. Minho turns his head, burying it in the pillow a little, and moans obscenely loud at another drag against his prostate.

“Shit, Min, I'm so close,” Chan curses, and Minho beneath him babbles some nonsense back, completely overwhelmed. “Want my kitten to come all over me.”

Minho mewls brokenly, and his eyes roll back before he tenses up with a silent scream, coating Chan's chest with his hot release. His hands twist the sheets and Chan's hair, body spasming beneath him as Chan picks up the pace, chasing his own high. Minho's high-pitched whines fill the room, mixing with Chan's desperate grunts, but he doesn't ask him to stop. “Channie,” he whines weakly. “Fill-fill me up, please.”

That's all he needs, and his body stills, shuddering heavily before painting his walls for the second time tonight. Chan's world explodes in hot pleasure before his eyes, and when he opens his eyes again, he's cuddled up safely in Minho's arms. He buries his face in his neck and plants a lazy kiss there, making Minho sigh happily.

“Shit, I missed this,” Minho whispers, and Chan hums agreeingly in response. Minho softly kisses his head and runs his hand through his hair. “We gotta clean up.”

“Just a minute,” Chan mumbles drowsily and Minho can't deny him. The way he buries himself in his body makes his heart beat faster, knowing how long it had been for Chan.

After another five minutes, he gently urges Chan to get up. Chan pushes himself up with a soft groan but picks him up and carries him to the bathroom. They clean each other up in the shower, washing their hair and spent bodies with soothing touches. Minho smiles happily at him as Chan rinses out the shampoo for him, hand running through his hair.

Chan meets his eyes, and his world stops for a moment. Small water droplets rest on his lashes, his lips wet, and his skin glistening beneath the water. His eyes are so soft and vulnerable that they stir something deep inside of him, and Chan can't fight the urge to hug him close and bury his face in his shoulder.

“You're okay?” Minho asks gently, soothingly rubbing his back and playing with the edge of his wet hair.

“Yeah,” Chan answers quietly, tears burning in his eyes.

Minho can tell by the way his voice quivers, unrecognizable to everyone who doesn't know Chan as well. He gently pulls him back and cups his face, worriedly searching his eyes. “Channie love?”

“I just…I know I haven't been easy those past few months, and I've been an asshole to you not only once,” he sniffles softly, and Minho's smile falters a little. “Sometimes it's just hard to believe you love me that much you can forget about all of it.”

“Channie,” he whispers, eyes brimming with tears. “I haven't been exactly easy to be around those past months either, have I?”

“I…thank you for giving me a home all those years ago and never leaving,” Chan tells him, lips quivering.

Minho giggles sweetly, a tear dropping down his face. “I love you so much, Channie love. So so much,” he tells him and pulls him into a loving kiss.

Chan kisses back fiercely and smiles at him. “I love you too, Minho baby.”

After getting dressed and changing the sheets, they're back in bed, facing each other. Their legs are entangled beneath the blanket, and they're as close as they can be, the tips of their noses touching. “Thank you for today,” Minho smiles shyly.

“I'm glad you liked it,” Chan smiles back just as shyly and giggles.

“How are you holding up with everything?” Minho asks gently. “You've been so focused on me lately.”

Chan soothingly squeezes his hip. “I'm glad to be back home,” he tells him kindly. “I wish she were here, but I'm okay, knowing she's getting better.”

“Mhm, I hope it won't take too long anymore,” Minho agrees and gently runs his fingers through Chan's damp curls. “But I think, given the circumstances of the past six months, we're doing well.”

Chan hums agreeingly and gives him a small, soft kiss. “Can you hold me tonight? Just hold me and don't let go?”

Minho's face softens, and he plants a tiny kiss on his forehead. “Of course.”

Two days later

Minho paces the bathroom once again, taking deep, controlled breaths. He tries to fight it all back down, all the guilt, all his worries, and fears. He just wants to be there for you, hold your hand, and comfort you like Chan is doing right now. Cursing quietly at himself he runs his hand through his hair shakily and takes another deep breath. “Man the fuck up,” he tells himself and shakily washes his hands. He rubs his face with the cold water, washing away all the tears, and dries it off with a few paper towels.

Half an hour ago, they got the call that you were awake. Chan picked him up from work and drove them here, but so far, Minho hasn't dared face you. He's been crying for you to come back to them for months, and now that it's time, he is terrified.

He stops in front of your room, hand lingering above the door handle, and hesitates. Surely, you'd hate him, right? You'd hate him for driving, for getting you into an accident. He subconsciously takes a step back, and it takes him every tiniest bit of his willpower to open the door and step inside.

Minho meets Chan's eyes as he slowly walks into the room, and Chan's face softens. He must look horrible. Inhaling softly, he turns to look at you and swallows hard, meeting your eyes. You reach out for him with tears in your eyes, and his body moves on its own. Before he knows it, he's sitting at the edge of your bed and pulls you into his arms as you start crying. He soothingly rubs your back as you allow yourself to cry for the first time since they're here. “Oh, honey,” he whispers and swallows down his tears. “I'm so sorry, my love.”

You only hold onto him tighter, shattering his heart a little. Only hours ago, he wasn't sure if you'd ever hug him again. If you'd ever really wake up even. Minho buries his face in your shoulder and soothes his mind with your scent. You're here. You'd be okay. He'd make sure of that.

Minho kisses your head and sniffles softly. “God, you're okay,” he says, and suddenly Chan's hand finds his lower back. He looks up and sees the pain in Chan's eyes, making his heart drop to his stomach. “What's wrong?” he whispers with wide eyes.

“She's okay so far,” he promises and swallows hard. “But she can't remember the last two years.” Minho looks down at you, almost a little panicked. “Which is okay because that means she remembers the first three years of our marriage and the four of us dating before. Min, that's not all bad, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods timidly as your hold on him tightens, and a sob shakes your body.

“The doctor said there's a chance it'll all come back in a few months, we can make this work,” he says, and Minho presses his lips together, eyes filling with tears rapidly. “It's okay, it's okay,” Chan says softly, and Minho whimpers his name, holding onto you tightly. Chan quickly gets up and hugs you both close, kissing Minho's head. “I promise you, it's okay, Min,” he whispers, and Minho nods, trying to calm his racing heart. “It's just the last two years, we'll make this work.”

Minho holds you tight and nods again, hiding in Chan's chest. His husband is right. They went through a lot to get here; they'd manage this. You still know who they are, you still know they love you, you just don't know what happened over the past two years. It would be okay.

PART FOUR | PART SIX

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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seraphdreams · 2 years

Text

NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

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alessiasfreckles · 6 months

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amnesia - part 8 (ona batlle x alexia putellas x reader)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7

a/n: sorry guys, had to repost this one due to an issue with the title! anyway, when are these girls going to learn how to communicate??

-------

“Do you want to do something with Ale tonight, the three of us? I don’t think you’re ready to go out yet, but we can celebrate your leg finally being free,” Ona suggested as the two of you walked out of the hospital. You still had crutches, but the cast had been taken off, and it felt like your leg could breathe again.

“That sounds great!” you smiled. Ona had barely mentioned the captain since you’d brought her up in conversation just a couple days ago, and you weren’t sure if she had been upset about Alexia’s feelings towards you, but clearly it couldn’t be too bad if she was suggesting doing something together. Plus, you missed the blonde - it had been a while since you’d seen her, if you didn’t count all the times you’d looked her up online.

“What do you want to do? We could stay in, or go out, I guess,” Ona trailed off, looking at your leg uncertainly.

“Go out! Please, for the love of god, I cannot take being cooped up in my apartment any more. It’s bad enough not being able to play football, but not being able to go out much has been killing me,” you implored, eyes wide, and Ona laughed.

“Okay, okay, we’ll go out. Nothing too crazy, though. There’s a nice restaurant in your neighbourhood we used to go to, we can go there,” she said.

That’s how you found yourself sat between the two women in a booth tucked away at the back of a local restaurant and bar. It was busy, but you supposed it was a Friday night, and it really did feel good to be amongst people instead of in your apartment.

Something was… off, however. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but the vibes were slightly strange, like the air was vibrating. You figured that maybe you were just so not used to being around so many people anymore and tried to brush it off.

“How was training today?” you asked during a lull in the conversation. Glancing down at your drink, you didn’t notice the way Alexia’s and Ona’s eyes met across the table.

“Good,” Alexia said smoothly. “We all miss you, though. Are you looking forward to coming back next week?”

“I won’t be back, not properly,” you grumbled. “I’ll just be there for physio and occupational therapy.”

“You’ll be there, though! It’ll be nice to have you around again,” Alexia smiled warmly at you, resting a hand on your shoulder for just a brief second.

“I guess,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm up a little.

“Si, the three of us again, it’ll be just like old times,” Ona added.

“Old times? Were the three of us together a lot?” you asked, frowning. You knew that you were close with both of them, but you’d assumed that when you and Ona started dating, Alexia would have felt awkward being around the both of you and would have hung back a little.

“Oh yeah, we were inseparable,” she said, resting an arm on your shoulders. You stiffened slightly under the touch, but Ona didn’t seem to notice. “We were always together. The girls on the team used to joke about all three of us dating, not just you and me.”

“Huh.” Leaning away from Ona’s arm, you moved to get up. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Once you were in the bathroom with the door locked behind you, you let out a sigh. Splashing water onto your face, you frowned at your reflection in the mirror. You felt weird. Things felt different. Ona was behaving strangely, much more jovial than she had been the past few days, and you felt a flash of irritation. She was behaving like nothing had happened, like you hadn’t been in a coma, like you hadn’t lost your memories, like she hadn’t lied to you. And then there were your feelings about Alexia, which you were still confused about. Frustration about the whole situation bubbled up inside you, and you splashed cold water onto your face again, trying to calm down.

“What are you doing?” Alexia hissed as soon as the bathroom door swung closed behind you.

“What do you mean?” Ona asked.

“You’re acting weird - you’re being way too casual about this, you’re pushing it too hard and too fast!” the blonde said, keeping her voice quiet, as if she was worried you’d hear. “Look, we said we would slowly introduce her to the idea, maybe let her think of it herself. We’re just meant to be making small suggestions, comments, that kind of thing - not telling her that people thought all three of us were dating!”

Ona scowled, not wanting to admit that maybe Alexia was right, that maybe she had been laying it on a little too thick. “We have to make it obvious enough, though, otherwise she won’t even notice it!”

“Of course she will! She’s not stupid, Oni,” Alexia frowned.

“Who’s not stupid?” you asked, appearing from behind the booth. It looked as though the two had been deep in conversation when you left the bathroom, and as you approached the table you heard Alexia’s statement.

“Oh, no one!” Ona said quickly, before Alexia even had a chance to open her mouth. You narrowed your eyes slightly, the speed at which she spoke not doing her any favours.

“Right…,” you trailed off. So, Ona thought you were stupid. Great. You sat back down between the two, but this time you stayed just out of Ona’s reach.

“Y/N, how have you been feeling, now that you’ve been home and out of the hospital for a week?” Alexia asked.

“Um, okay, I guess. It’s been a lot,” you admitted, grateful for the change in topic. “I’ve felt a bit overwhelmed sometimes. And I’m frustrated that I don’t remember more, I feel like I should.”

“It’ll come, with time,” Alexia said, placing a hand on your knee. It was warm, comforting. “And if not, we’ll do our best to fill your mind with new memories, isn’t that right, Oni?”

“Yes!” the brunette nodded emphatically. “We can make all kinds of new memories!”

“Thanks, guys,” you gave them both a small smile.

“How about I get us some drinks?” Alexia suggested, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

As you watched Alexia head towards the bar, Ona hummed thoughtfully.

“Ale looks really good tonight, don’t you think?” she asked.

“Hm?” your eyes flew to Ona, hoping she wouldn’t be able to notice the way your cheeks were flushing rapidly in the dim lighting. “Oh, um yeah, I- I guess?”

“You guess?” Ona let out a gentle laugh, looking over at you. “Please, she’s gorgeous, we all know it. And I thought you said you wrote something similar in your journal?”

“Oh, I, yeah, she,” you stumbled over your words, Ona’s teasing tone catching you off guard. It hadn’t even seemed like she was listening when you’d told her about that.

The brunette leant in close to you, her hand on your thigh. “Are you blushing, bebé?”

“What- no!” you abruptly moved away from her, letting her hand fall to the seat. What the hell was she doing? Why was she even talking about this?

“It’s okay if you are, you know,” she mused, as if you hadn’t even said anything. “I’d understand if you still had a little crush on her. Who wouldn’t?”

That was enough. Your heart pounding, blood roaring in your ears, you stood up. “I need some air.”

You left the restaurant as fast as you could with one bad leg. You didn’t even notice Alexia leaving the drinks at the bar to follow you outside, and jumped when she put a hand on your shoulder.

“Chiqui, are you alright? What’s going on?” she asked, her calm voice grounding you.

“Yes, I- no, I don’t know!” you groaned, putting your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what the fuck was going on, why Ona was talking like that, why she was saying those things. Even if she did happen to know how you were feeling, why would she be teasing you about it like that? And what you’d overheard earlier, how she clearly thought you were stupid?

“I want to go home,” you said quietly. “Actually, no, I- can I stay at your place tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, but what about Ona, don’t you want to stay with her?” Alexia frowned.

“No, I don’t want to talk to Ona right now,” you said, a familiar feeling of hurt washing over you as you thought about her words to Alexia. “Can we just go?”

“Okay, chiqui. But I’m going to go and tell Oni, okay? It wouldn’t be right to just leave her.”

Ona watched Alexia approach the booth, a bad feeling in her stomach. She should have run after you, she should have done something, said something.

“Is she okay?” the younger player asked, worry gnawing at her insides.

“Si, but…,” Alexia sighed. “She wants to go home, to my place. She wants to stay with me tonight.”

“Okay, should I come too?”

“No, Oni, I’m sorry. I think you upset her,” Alexia said gently, not wanting to hurt Ona’s feelings. “But I’ll keep you updated and I will see you tomorrow at training, okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” Ona’s voice was small, and she looked down at the table, refusing to meet the captain’s eye. As she watched Alexia leave, she could feel a pit in her stomach, growing and growing, and she hoped it would swallow her whole.

#hannah writes fics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #ona batlle imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia x reader #alexia putellas #ona batlle x alexia putellas #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #woso fanfics

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m1ckeyb3rry · 6 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // THIRTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Things in Ba Sing Se come to a head, taking a violent turn you are unprepared for.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: as seen in the chapter summary this is chapter leans on the more violent side #sorry BUT just wanted to say i love you all thanks for reading and sorry i’m so mean to your character

“Quynh,” you sniffed, holding onto one of her claws. “Quynh, they want to kill Kuei.”

She growled, low and deep, which only made you cry harder. Only when she noticed that did she stop, though her breaths still came quick and short as she rubbed her cheek against your body in a vain attempt to comfort you.

“Who?” she said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “They haven’t done anything yet, but I heard them. I heard them!”

“Tell me what they said, my dear,” she said. “As best as you can, so that there is no chance of misunderstanding.”

“They said that if I turn out to be an Earthbender, they will get rid of Kuei so that I can take the throne,” you said. “They want a powerful ruler, and they don’t — they don’t think that he can be that. But I don’t want to be queen! I just want to play with Kuei!”

“That’s contingent on you being an Earthbender, though,” she said. “You haven’t shown any signs of bending yet, have you?”

You hiccuped. “Yes. Today. I was on my way to show Kuei when I overheard the conversation. But no one can know. Pinky promise not to tell anyone, Quynh! I don’t want Kuei to be in danger.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” she soothed you. “But you are a bender of Shan’s line. If you do not learn to control your power, you will destroy this palace.”

“Huh?” you said.

“Bending without control is based solely on a wild instinct. If you do not train in some way, shape, or form, then your every emotion will be like a stone on the surface of a pond. For the everyday individual, this isn’t anything devastating, but you are the princess of the Earth Kingdom. Your bloodline begets only the strongest of Earthbenders, and so the consequences of your bending running amok are that much greater,” she said.

“But if anyone catches me, then Kuei — Kuei — I don’t want Kuei to die!” you said, bursting into tears again.

“He won’t,” Quynh said. “Listen to me, Y/N. If you cannot train properly, if you cannot learn the Earthbending forms and movements that are specifically designed to calm the mind and focus the art, then we must come up with a suitable replacement.”

“What can replace a teacher?” you said.

“I will be your teacher,” Quynh said. “And the crystals around us will be your element. Crystals are a step removed from stones, and so they are difficult for the more traditional benders to master, but you are skipping over to them entirely by virtue of your situation.”

“Will that be enough to ensure that I am not caught?” you said.

“I think so,” Quynh said. “Once you are bored of crystals, we will move on to glass. You see, dear girl, there is a truth that is oft-ignored in this new era of bending: it is no harder to move a mountain than it is to emboss a window. Perhaps one is more ostentatious — who ever takes the time to be impressed by the minute details of a piece? — but both are of the same difficulty. The explosion and the implosion are equally as destructive, are they not? If you cannot practice with the mountains that are your birthright, then you must turn to the other extreme. You must endeavor to bend with an exact perfection; allow no blemishes, so that your mind does not turn on itself in its solitude.”

“Princess Y/N,” a slippery, cool voice said as you rounded the corner towards where the tea shop was located. “It was surprising enough to see you hanging around the Avatar and his friends, but to find a girl of your birth and stature in the Lower Ring instead of in the palace is definitely unexpected.”

You froze. It was a voice you did not recognize, but if they knew you had been with the Avatar, then there was only one group they could have been from. Your swore as stone gloves warped into cuffs around your wrists, binding them behind your back and dragging you into the custody of a man wearing a familiar uniform.

“Dai Li,” you hissed. “What are you doing here?”

“Between the two of us, I do not think that you are the one who has the right to be asking me that,” the agent said. You ground your teeth as another agent dropped down beside you, grabbing your shoulder roughly.

“Long Feng will be furious,” this new agent said. “You’ve disobeyed his singular order. What an ungrateful girl you are! A princess who was given everything she ever asked for and was only asked to stay in her rooms in return. Yet you could not even do that much.”

The people on the streets were beginning to stop and stare, whispering to one another at your state. It wasn’t every day that Dai Li agents made their presences obvious — there was an unspoken awareness that they were always there, creeping about in the corners of the collective consciousness, but it was rare for them to become forefront. Even in the crime-riddled Lower Ring, it was the militia-men who enforced the common laws. The Dai Li only appeared for the gravest infractions, and for you to be led away in stone cuffs like this was a scandal of unprecedented magnitude.

“There are more important things for Long Feng to be furious about,” you said as you were pulled through the streets by the Dai Li agents.

“Nothing is more important than you, your royal highness,” the first agent said sweetly, mockingly. “The safety of the Earth King’s heir is paramount to the kingdom’s security.”

As you passed the tea shop, the door slammed open, and the Dai Li agents paused as Lee sprinted out, his face like a thundercloud, his shoulders tense and expression in a scowl darker than any you had ever seen him wear.

“What’s going on here?” he said, crossing his arms and staring down the Dai Li with none of the fear and respect that they rightfully commanded. The way he stood was if he were the one that they should be afraid of, though it was a ridiculous notion — what could a simple tea shop worker do to the famed members of Ba Sing Se’s secret police?

“Out of the way, boy,” the second agent said.

“Where are you taking Y/N?” Lee insisted. “I won’t move until you tell me.”

“Y/N? You’re on a first-name basis with her royal highness?” the first agent said. “How impetuous! It’s laughable, really, for you to think that this girl cares about you.”

It was meant to be nothing more than humiliation. By exposing your identity, the Dai Li were ensuring that you could never again return to the Lower Ring, not if you valued your life or at least your dignity. The people who lived here hated you, after all, hated everything you stood for. The spoiled princess who cared little for their suffering…now that they knew the truth, they would never accept you again.

The whispers grew louder. Her royal highness? Y/N, as in Princess Y/N? The Earth King’s sister? What is she doing here? How dare she show her face after everything? How dare she pretend to be one of us?

“Get out of here!” a man shouted. The declaration was like the breaking of a dam, as the people’s voices rose higher and higher. The Dai Li stood beside you grimly, doing nothing to shield you from the insults thrown your way.

“Is this how you royals entertain yourselves?” a woman said. “Is this what we are paying our taxes for? So that you can live our lives for fun and then go back to the luxury of your palace?”

“Give us our money back, thief!”

“Do we look like tourists, huh? Why’d we have to pay to enter the city?”

“Why are we second to a bear? Why does the Earth King care more about his pet than his people?”

“Selfish witch! You’re no princess. You’d abandon the kingdom if it meant you could live a life of luxury! You ought to be sent to the front lines, let’s see how you like it there!”

“Down with the tyrant! Down with the traitor!”

It was exactly the kind of uprising that the Dai Li had been employed to quell, but they stood there and watched, faces impassive as people came closer and closer, pressing in on you, screaming things that you could not cover your ears from, not when you were still restrained.

“Ain’t she the princess they said was made of glass? I wonder if she’ll break like it, too!”

You weren’t sure who hurled the first brick, but it was only thanks to Lee’s quick reaction that it did not hit you in the head. He yanked you out of the way, but the missed opportunity only incensed the people further.

“You have to get out of here,” you said to Lee. “This is the culmination of years’ worth of anger. I am the target for their rage, but if you’re near me, then you will be caught in the crossfire. Take Mushi and go somewhere far away until this has blown over!”

“Will I see you again?” he said. A window shattered, glass raining down around you as people began to fight one another, too. They were just furious now. They just wanted someone to hate, and whether it was their neighbor or their princess mattered little to them. As long as they could inflict the hurt they felt onto another person.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I don’t know anything anymore, if ever I did. But I want to, Lee. I want to see you again, and so I believe that I will.”

“Death to the Glass Princess! Death to the Glass Princess! Death to the Glass Princess!”

“You have to go now!” you said. A nearby produce stand was turned on its side, tomatoes rolling out and bursting as people stomped on them in their haste to destroy something, anything, everything.

Out of nowhere, Dai Li agents manifested, using their Earthbending to trap the citizens in constructs of stone, the riot stopping as abruptly as it had started. You used your shoulder to shove Lee away from you, shaking your head at him when he tried to protest before turning away, knowing that he would not leave unless you dismissed him in a way so inarguable that it left him with no choice.

In such a short time, the road had been utterly destroyed. The storefronts had been torn apart, glass and stray stones and smashed goods everywhere. The street itself ran red with tomato juice and pulp and blood, and the people who were encased in rock by the Dai Li were bruised and worn from the effort of the riot.

“Where are you taking them?” you said as the Dai Li moved with brutal efficiency, restraining everyone in the crowd before releasing them from their temporary prisons.”

“They’re all due for a visit to Lake Laogai,” the Dai Li agent standing at your left shoulder said.

“This is why you were forbidden from leaving the palace,” the other Dai Li agent said.. “Do you understand now?”

“I understand,” you said, though what you understood and what he was saying were at odds with one another. It was the kind of conclusion you were only equipped to draw now that you had left the palace and seen the reality of Ba Sing Se, of the impenetrable city whose walls contained any explosions and turned them inward.

As you were marched down the street towards the palace, you could not help yourself from craning your neck for one final glimpse of the ruined street where you had spent so much of your time. Your happiest days had been on these very cobblestones, in and out of these very shops.

Those days would never come back. They were gone now, destroyed as surely as the setting in which they had taken place.

You caught the eye of the man who had started it all, who had shouted at you to leave the Lower Ring. He had been forced to his knees and held there by stone restraints, and a Dai Li agent stood above him with a severe expression on his face.

When the man noticed you looking at him, his eyebrows drew together, his irises shining with fear and desperation. He mouthed something at you, or perhaps he said it aloud and you were too far to hear it, but either way you comprehended the message.

Please.

Your eyes widened, but you were shoved around a corner before you could react. And then there was a scream, followed by a horrible cracking sound, followed by an eerie, disconcerting silence.

Upon arriving in the palace, you were brought to the throne room. The throne itself was noticeably empty, but Long Feng was standing in front of it on its dais, his sly face adorned with a mournful frown. It only deepened when he saw you, and he sighed as the Dai Li agents paused before him, bowed, and then left, leaving the two of you alone.

“Princess Y/N,” Long Feng said, trying to adopt the same fatherly tone he always took on around you. “I cannot begin to describe how disappointed in you I am.”

“Then don’t,” you said. “And tell the Dai Li to free me of these restraints. What would my brother say if he saw me like this?”

“Why, certainly, he’d agree with me, if not my methods,” Long Feng said. “You’ve nearly died so many times in the city that it’s clear I was right. You never should’ve left.”

He might as well have dumped a bucket of ice over your head. So many times. How had he known about any other instance? How had he known that assassins had come for you, and more than once?

“What will happen to the people of the Lower Ring?” you said. “What will you do to them?”

“Do not fret,” he said. “The instigators were publicly executed, as a reminder to the others of the power of the Dai Li. As for the rest, well, the only ones hurt by their little demonstration were themselves. That’s an even better punishment than anything I could come up with.”

“Executed?” you said.

“As long as you stay out of it, Ba Sing Se will remain safe,” Long Feng said. “Now that the dissenters are gone, the public sentiment will return to its usual.”

“But I don’t want it to return to its usual! The people of Ba Sing Se hate Kuei and I, and for good reason,” you said. “They are struggling, and instead of helping them, we are making things worse. Surely you know this, so why have you not yet advised my brother to stop what he is doing and enact policies that will benefit our kingdom?”

Long Feng scoffed. “You know nothing of ruling a kingdom; in fact, you know even less than your brother. If you and he would leave the running of Ba Sing Se to the more qualified, then things would not be so dire.”

“There’s a war,” you said. Long Feng paled, and for a moment, his well-schooled expression dropped into a sneer. It was brief, but you were quicker than he. You saw it, and the beginnings of a theory formed in the back of your mind.

“Who has fed you such vicious lies?” he said. “There is no war.”

“The Avatar,” you said. “I’m sure your men told you that I was with him. If I am lying, then he must be, as well. Do you still deny it?”

“The Avatar is a young boy,” Long Feng said. “Young boys are prone to exaggeration and boasting. In a world that has survived for so long without him, don’t you think he would do anything to gain some legitimacy? Fabricating a conflict isn’t beyond that scope. Of course, occasional skirmishes are a natural consequence of the size of the kingdom, but an actual war is unthinkable. The world is at peace.”

“And the refugees are tourists,” you noted. “Isn’t that right?”

“You’re confused,” he said. “The overload of information that you were faced with in Ba Sing Se has muddled your poor mind, so that you are susceptible to the mind tricks of outside actors like the Avatar.”

“That’s not true!” you said. “I know what I saw. Why are you denying it so vehemently?”

Speaking to Long Feng always reduced you to childhood. With him, you were once again nothing but a little girl throwing a tantrum. It did not help that he was perpetually looking down his nose at you, like you were lucky to have gained his attention at all, like he was doing you a favor by acknowledging you in the first place. You despised it, despised how small he made you feel, despised how powerless you became whenever he rebuked you.

“I’m afraid I must ban you from your brother’s chambers for the time being,” Long Feng said. “I cannot have you contaminating his clear-headed judgment with your hysterics.”

“You’re confining me to just my room?” you said. If that was the only punishment you received, then it’d be a blessing, but of course you could not reveal that to Long Feng, who would then come up with something even worse to thoroughly chastise you.

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not. How did you escape?”

“Why would I tell you that?” you said.

“If you ever want to see Kuei again, you will,” he said, his smirk growing cruel as you gasped despite yourself. “You two are all-too-similar. Perhaps you think that because you have found a way out of the palace, you are invulnerable, but I can promise you one thing, your highness: if you do not cooperate, I will forbid you from your brother for good.”

You clenched your fists by your sides. “The window.”

“The window!” Long Feng said incredulously. “Do you expect me to believe that? You live on one of the highest floors of the palace. Even for an Earthbender, that route would be suicide, but you are not so much as that. You are worsening your own case by lying.”

Closing your eyes, you bowed at Long Feng, though as a princess you were required to bow to no one but your brother. He did not stop you, though. He never stopped you.

“You’re right,” you said. “I was lying. I apologize. The truth — the truth is a little more incredible, and I had doubted you’d be convinced by it, but that is out of my control. The only thing I can do is speak it and hope you have faith in me as your princess to stand as a bastion of integrity and truth, even when I tell tales that are all but outlandish in nature.”

“Get on with it,” he said. You took a deep breath to calm your racing heart, whose pulse beat like a drum in your chest, behind your eyebrows, around your ears.

“I disguised myself as a servant,” you said. “Once I was dressed like that, no one paid any attention to me. Making my way to the kitchens, I snuck out of their door, and from there, I ran into the city.”

“No one noticed the truth of your identity?” Long Feng said.

“It’s amazing,” you said. “The kind of things that you pay no attention to when you think of someone as lesser. When I looked like a servant, I was treated as one. For better and for worse.”

You waited with bated breath, hoping beyond hope, praying to Quynh, to Agni, to Tui and La and every other spirit that he would believe you.

“It seems I underestimated you, your royal highness,” Long Feng said. “Chhay!”

From behind the dais, a man appeared. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the Dai Li, though the collar of his undershirt was gold instead of green, a signifier of his elevated status. You knew without being told who he was: Captain Chhay, the legendary captain of the Dai Li and Long Feng’s second in command. The stories told about him were numerous; he was the closest to a national hero that the Earth Kingdom had, as well as the main reason that the Dai Li were so loyal to Long Feng.

“To ensure that you never have the cause to don a servant’s garb again, I will assign Chhay to be your guard,” Long Feng said. “He will stay with you at all times and watch over your every move. In that way, we can be certain that you are where you are supposed to be at any given moment.”

“Don’t worry, your royal highness,” Captain Chhay said. Fear spiked in you, because the voice was not unfamiliar to you, and you suppressed a shudder, doing your best to remain neutral. “I’m sure we will get along.”

“Yes,” you said, fighting to keep your own voice steady. “I’m sure we will.”

Captain Chhay emanated an aura of cocky, self-assured smugness. He knew that he was powerful; maybe he even knew you feared him. Either way, he had to understand that between the two of you, he was the stronger, and so he walked with a swagger to his step as he escorted you to your room.

“Captain Chhay,” you said, holding onto your skirts, wishing you had someone there to protect you. The Blue Spirit…Lee…you would’ve even taken Sokka, at this point, though you doubted he would’ve done very much besides maybe demand the captain do a cartwheel. But you were alone, without even the Water Tribe cartwheel-fanatic as an ally, and so you had to figure out how to do this on your own. “How long have you been in the Dai Li?”

“I didn’t take you as a student of history,” he said.

“It’s one of my hobbies,” you said, wiping your palms against your bodice. “I’m sorry. I’m really nervous.”

“Nervous? Why?” he said, though a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not because of me, I should hope.”

“It’s — it’s just that you are so famous,” you said.

“And you are a princess,” he said. “I am but your humble servant. As for your question, I joined the Dai Li shortly before your brother’s coronation.”

The next question was the most delicate, and you could almost persuade yourself to not ask it at all. After all, did you really want to confirm this? Was it worth it, or did you ought to leave well enough alone?

No. If you were right, then you were the only hope left for Ba Sing Se. For your subjects, who were crumbling under the oppressive injustice they faced daily to the point that they had almost killed you in an attempt to restore some semblance of order. If not you, then who would defend them? Who cared for them nearly as much? Who knew them in the way you did?

“When were you promoted to the rank of captain?” you said.

“When Long Feng was appointed your brother’s regent,” he said. “The information is public, so why are you asking me?”

“There’s no better source than the one which lived through the event,” you said. “I am going to take a bath. I trust that you do not need to be at my side for that?”

“I will remain just in front of the door,” Captain Chhay said. “Don’t even think of doing anything funny. I’ll detect it immediately, so it’d just be a waste of time for the both of us.”

Your bathtub was more like a small pool, constructed at Kuei’s behest when you had told him you longed to learn to swim. It was filled with warm water at all times by servants who never introduced themselves to you, and it was deep enough that you could float in it and not touch the bottom if you so desired.

It was only once you had submerged yourself that you let your mind wander. What did you do now? You were just the weak little princess, the girl who could do nothing for anyone, including herself. You could not even go to Quynh for advice, not with Captain Chhay all but atop you constantly. If you exposed that secret, then there was no telling what might happen, to both you and her alike.

You were trapped in a vipers’ enclosure, and the vipers were of such deadly stock that you really had no hope of survival at all. You could only submit to Long Feng’s demands, could only beg Captain Chhay for mercy, so that he was not overly harsh when the time came.

The pool had begun to cool off by the time that you ascended the stairs to leave it, wrapping a towel around you to ward away the chill you had been feeling ever since Long Feng had unknowingly revealed his hand. But that chill was internal, and the towel could do nothing to protect you from it, so after a moment, you set it aside and put on your nightclothes, exiting the bathroom with trepidation.

Captain Chhay was leaning against the wall, his hair let out of its braid and loose around his shoulders, his helm low over his brow, though he was by no means asleep, tilting towards you as you scurried towards your bed like a mouse.

“I will rest now,” you declared, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders and staring at your desk, which was at the other end of the room. It was covered with your glass sculptures, the ones Quynh had been so proud of you for making. A dragon. Twin fish. A badgermole. A flying bison. A bear, constructed so carefully that the fine points of glass covering its surface appeared to be fur, appeared to be genuinely soft to the touch. And uncountable others, each different from the rest, united only by the perfection that you had attempted to attain with every attempt.

Sleep evaded you, though you were not actively trying to seek it out, either, not when Captain Chhay still stood in your doorway, his half-lidded eyes trained on your motionless form.

If you fell asleep, there was no guarantee you’d ever wake up again. You mulled over the events of the day as you tossed and turned, hating how things had changed in such a short span of time but realizing it was necessary. It was in the end not a change that had occurred but a shift in your awareness. These things had been happening for quite some time already.

More than yourself, you worried for your brother. Maybe you could escape, could open the door and run into it and demand Quynh close it before you were pursued, but what would become of Kuei? As long as Captain Chhay was around, it was not safe for him. It was not safe for either of you.

With that in mind, it was obvious what you had to do, but were you capable? Well. You supposed you had to try. For Kuei. For your kingdom. You had to try, or else your people would continue to die, would continue to endure agony and blame your family for it, though you and your brother had never done anything but try to love them.

So you threw the blankets aside and slid off the bed, shoving your feet into a pair of slippers, and you did not pray to the spirits for help. It was your father you called upon — not the 51st Earth King, but your father, the man who in a sense constituted half of your being. It was him you asked for guidance, even though he could never give it to you, even though he had never known you enough to care.

“What are you doing?” Captain Chhay said.

“I had a nightmare,” you said. “Can I talk to you about it? I am still so — so shaken up.”

“I’m not your babysitter,” he said. “Talk to someone else.”

“Aren’t you?” you said. “I have no one else. Please, captain…I am all alone in the palace. In the world, in fact. Won’t you at least listen to me? If it were your own daughter asking, wouldn’t you want for someone to show her that consideration?”

“I don’t have a daughter,” he said gruffly. “My wife died before she could give birth.”

Still, he softened imperceptibly, making his way towards you. You backed up towards your desk, his every step matching your own as you grew closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

Please, Father.

“It was such an awful dream,” you said.

“What was it about?” he said, finally giving in, taking off his helmet so that you could see his shrewd eyes, which were as gentle as he could make them. It was almost as if he felt sorry for you, as if he were seeing his never-born daughter in your place.

“The day my father died. I saw it in such vivid detail,” you said. Your back hit the desk, and your hands trembled as you reached for one of the statues, slick fingers glossing over their surfaces before finally finding enough purchase to grab onto one of them.

“You weren’t even alive when that happened,” Captain Chhay said. “How can you dream about it?”

“I’ve been told the story so many times that it can sometimes feel as if I were there myself,” you said. “Besides, it was a dream. All sorts of impossible things happen in those.”

“That is true,” he said. “Was that all? It happened many years ago. I’m sure it was frightening, but there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

Please, Father. You disguised the twisting, undulating motions of your hands by pretending to wring them behind your back out of distress.

“Something different happened,” you said. “Something new. You see, this time, I heard the assassin’s voice as he killed my father, and to my surprise, it was one I recognized.”

“Your mind cannot conjure up new sounds, so of course you recognized it,” Captain Chhay said, though the softness was rapidly fading from his eyes, replaced with wariness.

“No,” you said. “That’s not why. I recognized it for a more meaningful reason, I know I did.”

“Whose was it, then? Are we to place a man on trial just because, what, you had a nightmare?” he said.

Please, Father.

“Actually, the trial has already begun,” you said. “And the verdict has already been decided. The voice really does belong to the man who murdered my father all of those years ago, and I know that because it was the same voice which belonged to the man who tried to kill me so many times. Because it was your voice, Captain Chhay!”

I’m sorry, Father. Please, Father. Father.

Before Captain Chhay could react to the accusation, you used your bending to impale his heart with the spike of glass that had once been the bear statue. He collapsed immediately, blood bursting from the site like a fountain, the glittering tip of the makeshift weapon poking out of his back.

“How — did — you — bend?” he choked out, voice gurgling as even more blood welled up in his mouth and spilled past his lips, forming a puddle by his cheek.

“Long Feng isn’t the only one who’s been keeping secrets,” you said, bending the glass out of his body so that there was no evidence of what you had done. Smashing it against the ground to further the deniability, you bit your tongue to push back the bile rising in your throat. “You were assigned to kill me, weren’t you? Weren’t you? Answer me!”

Captain Chhay’s body convulsed once, and then he was completely still, his eyes glazed over, frozen while looking somewhere distant, forever stuck searching for something he could not find.

You had done that. A choked sob escaped you, your horror at the deed mixing with the relief you felt that he could never hurt you again. He could never take Kuei from you like he had taken your father.

Patting your palms, now stained with crimson, against your white nightgown, you turned towards your dressing room, where the door to Quynh’s Den had just appeared. Walking towards it, you pulled it open and gave the room one final look, taking in the violent scene created by your own hands.

Then you stepped into the passageway and closed the doorway behind you for good.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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saeyoungchoismaid · 3 months

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Okay so I just finished my first round of Andromeda Six and here are some thoughts I have (both good and bad!). Pls feel free to comment with your thoughts or send asks or message me or whatever!! I'll update this anytime I get more info or think of smth new to add lol. Warning: obvi will contain spoilers.

The amnesia thing - I think the biggest thing for me that I wanna talk about rn is the whole royalty thing. While in general the whole thing is a really cool idea and either way I still love the plot, I think the whole 'I'm royalty' thing was WAY too obvious. Like the SECOND the a6 crew revealed where they found me, I was like "okay cool so I'm the princess got it." and then everything after that only fueled that theory (which obvi turned out to be right). Idk I just think if you're gonna have a game that's based around your main protagonist having amnesia, you need to make the player just confused as the char yk what I'm sayin? Like I shouldn't be able to know stuff that the char I'm playing as doesn't know yk? 😂

Nerissa - I think one of the biggest things for the fandom (that I've seen really only on Tumblr by the way lol) is the whole Nerissa thing so here's my two cents lol. I actually really like the plot twist of Nerissa being alive. My only thing is that it doesn't really make sense and bc she's alive, the whole thing with Vexx at the prison where he breaks down kinda gets (almost?) vetoed in response. To explain, I think it doesn't really add up that, at first, Oppo and others were like 'yeah, only the youngest princess' body wasn't found' (which in general was already weird cause ??? how do they know that her body wasn't found but then people also apparently quote unquote "didn't know she existed" like huh????). They mentioned NOTHING about the literal heir's body being missing??? Like idk if Zovack did that on purpose (and if so ???? homie wyd lmao) but if not, it's a big plot hole in my opinion lmao. Also just the fact that she was literally shot by Vexx (who held her bleeding out and dying body in his arms) and then shows up later like 'yeah no I'm completely fine actually' is CRAZY. Like what kinda medicine do these folks got that makes that so easy?? Like she's not on crutches, has a cast, a limp, like ANYTHING. It's absolutely bonkers to me. It's just very OP like okay so she can literally be shot in the future now and I literally won't react cause she's apparently immortal 💀 N e ways I think it's cool that the MC can choose to basically defy Nerissa and be like miss girl you're so wrong and I don't wanna do that is SO SLAY. Cause yeah no she was not it at first (and I lowkey didn't like her for a phat min). Also, kinda off topic, but I was surprised they actually showed what she looked like. Like, I guess her skin tone is ambiguous enough to work, but I think it would make more sense if they just said somewhere that the king had more than one wife, had a side hoe he got pregnant, yk smth like that lmao

Different species/race - As someone who has only played the game once, I'm not completely sure about what I'm about to say next, so pls correct me if I'm wrong! I think it's really cool that you get to choose from 3 different species in the beginning of the game. I was hoping that this meant that this would change your backstory, but from seeing some posts about this on Tumblr, I'm assuming this means that certain things will change but overall your backstory is the same and you're still royalty. Which is fine as long as the different species thing actually makes a difference. I just thought it'd be cool for one if it's like oh you're a human? Yeah, you're Peg'asi. Oh, you wanna be Tilaari? That's cool, but this character doesn't like you bc of it. Like that kind of thing would be super cool! Anyway, either way it's fine lol it's just a thought I had

Vexx - I haven't seen anyone say otherwise, but I personally really love Vexx and his arc/development. I never really blamed him for what he did since it was literally done against his will (and turns out Nerissa is alive anyway so it's like okay I can't even be upset that you killed her when she's literally alive). Something I will say though (which is kinda similar to my stance on the amnesia thing) is that I think it'd be nice to have a little more doubt on whether or not Vexx is on our side or not. Like, when you first find him and regain your memories, he's pretty cutthroat after the shock he initially feels. After that though, anytime you see him, it'd be described as 'an emotion I can't decipher crosses his face' or 'a piece of the old him flashes in his eyes' kind of thing and I was just like "yeah okay so he's good but is just being brainwashed or being blackmailed or smth." Like, there was no danger in it. Not once was I ever like "omg no he's gonna kill me/my friends/my boyfriend/etc!!!!!" Like no dude he's just a lil guy that needs help lmao. So yeah, a lil more uncertainty about him would've been super cool (or even an alt route where he really is bad and they didn't make him do anything. like there could be choices in the memory section of the game of your time in the palace where like if you were rude to him, he actually betrayed y'all kind of thing)

Kitalpha - I might just be dumb, but when Aya was explaining her backstory about her home planet, I was a little lost. Like, I understand the basics ig, but I overall am still confused on how it actually got destroyed lol. I read the Wiki and it still kinda doesn't make sense to me. Also, the info dump they give on this (and a lot of stuff in general) is CRAZY. Like I need so much time to process what you just said and you're already laying another bomb on me lmoa. That aside, I think it's really weird that such a (apparently) major planet that (apparently) hosted a major species went supernova 10 years ago and you just never hear anyone talk about it??? Even Aya says that people kinda just forgot about it and moved on. Like girl HOW?? (Like okay yeah with the whole Zovack thing I can understand cause they got more important matters ig but he only overthrew the throne a MONTH ago like what were people doing before then lmao). It also didn't make sense to me as to why no one wanted to help them??? Like Aya explains that they were just met with closed doors from EVERYONE. Like why??? What about a dying planet/species is so bad that people are like 'yeah, that sucks and all, but we aren't gonna help. Good luck w that tho! 🥰' Also, I saw someone on here say that they wish there was more definitive features for the Kitalphan than just having gills and I agree! I didn't even notice that Vexx had them for the longest time. Also the fact that we never get a scene where Aya/you/Vexx get to actually use them (to my knowledge anyway) is insane. Like, what's even the point of giving them the gills then??? lmao

Update: I found this post that explains more in detail about the races. "It was, despite that, their own choice as to whether to live above or under water, and those who chose to do so submerged, had their bodies altered to further adapt to their environment; webbed fingers and toes, bright colored skins to allow for better camouflage among sea life, nictitating membrane over their eyes. Those who chose to live inland, on the other hand, kept to the more human appearance, with only the gills telling the difference." So, from my understanding, those who choose/chose to live underwater are the ones that are more fish like whereas the ones who choose/chose to live on ground are the ones who look like Vexx and Aya (more humanoid looking but still fish-like qualities like gills). Still think it would be cool if we could then meet a Kitalphan that chooses to live underwater!!

Time - speaking of it only being a month, it's only been a MONTH bro???? Like, Zovack overthrew the throne, had the entire Peg'asi family killed, you've been with the A6 crew trying to regain your memories, visit like 4 planets, find love, discover your sister is alive, and start planning out your plans for a war all in ONE MONTH. Like, ig it's not super inaccurate, it's just kinda crazy yk? 😂 I saw someone say that they wished we could've spent more time on all the planets and I completely agree. For some like Orion, it makes sense that we couldn't really stick around lmao. For others though, I didn't understand why there couldn't be more downtime ig? Idk maybe it's as simple as there's nothing interesting enough to write about that will keep the player's attention that's not just boring filler? But eh idk how much I believe that. Instead of info dumping a lot of stuff, they could've spread it out for moments like these where like yeah we aren't exploring this planet or whatever necessarily, but we are learning more lore while we are here getting gas lol. Also the fact that other planets get mentioned but we don't actually get to see or learn anything about them. I can't think of any examples off the top of my head (but if anyone really wants I can go through the logs to find them), but like planets or stations they'd stop to refuel or whatever just never really get talked about. I think there was a place that was similar to Teranium or Cersa that everyone was like 'omg be careful here like don't wander off alone' and then like nothing happens (or am I crazy and mixing my stuff up and I'm just yappin??? lmao. I'll probs come back and edit this once I play the game again). (I actually think it might've been the pitstop they mentioned that was ruled by mercs so they probs wouldn't have any problems with the K'Merii. Maybe it's the place they're supposed to go to on their way to Goldis?? Cause isn't it that the place that Khandar (help is that their name??? Google isn't telling me his name help pls 😭) said he has contacts??)

Damon - I'm so down bad for this man it's not even funny. His route is the first and only route I've done so far and I really just have one thing to critique I suppose. I fell in love w his char bc he's this super tough, mysterious, elusive guy that teases the shit outta you and just in general dgaf lmao. When you choose his route, pretty much all of that goes out the window. Now, don't get me wrong here. I still love Damon and I love that we get to see his sweeter/softer side, but I don't like how his bad boy side kinda just disappears. Like, maybe in chap 9/10 it'll show up more, but since choosing his route, he's kinda just become a big ol softy (which again I love that about him but I just kinda miss mean Damon lmao). Like, when the whole Wren thing happened, I feel like as soon as Wren points the gun in our face, OG Damon would've gone FERAL. Like, even if knows he can't actually like stop them or whatever by fighting, like just starting to mouth off to get attention off of us would've been so UGH. Idk maybe this is just a me thing bc I like crazy men but yeah would've liked more consistency ig in that aspect?? lmao. Like, there was one point in the game where I lowkey almost didn't choose Damon cause he was such an asshole (and almost went w the other loml Bash). Like THATS THE ENERGY IM HERE FOR. Make him a morally grey char and stick w it yk what I mean? Yes, he has walls up and he's actually very sweet and care about his found family and has a soft spot for cats and blah blah blah, but you also need to remember his upbringing and why he is the way he is ykkkkk

June - Maybe this gets explained later or more in his route, but when he's explaining his backstory and who he is, I was a little stumped. I mean, he wonders the exact same thing, but why is it that he can withstand the testing that was done to him and is now a super human, but his own twin brother and soldiers and whoever can't. What makes him so special? I figured he was able to become this super human and the K'Merii and whoever couldn't bc he was being tested on when he was still in the womb. Again though, if this is the case, why did his brother not make it? Would love to know more about that whole thing

Okay I'll stfu for now...but I'm sure I'll be back LMAO

#andromeda six #andromeda 6 #andromeda #a6 #rant #vent #hot takes #unpopular opinions #? lmao

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tideswept · 3 months

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if you’re so inclined, anakin faking amnesia (or maybe it’s real at first but then he loves the attention too much to stop) for the reverse trope prompts?

Nonnie, I'm sorry for taking so long to answer! 🙇‍♀️

Huh, this is a really interesting idea! I could take this in a very dark/sad direction, like Obi-Wan does knock him out and drags his ass back after their duel on Mustafar, so Anakin would be genuinely horrified at what's happened and completely throw himself into putting out as many fires as possible, unaware that he had a part in all of it.

Obi-Wan would be so torn. Happy, yet guilty, angry, yet relieved and thankful. Yoda would be giving him the 👀👀👀 eyes, but what better way to keep the twins safe, and make sure Anakin doesn't lapse again, then for all of them to remain together, under Obi-Wan's care? Even if Anakin did regain his memories later on (Force, no, Obi-Wan pleads) then he'll surely love his children too much to just instantly snap back into that dark, rage-filled mania he was in.

But then. Yeah. Anakin does start to remember bits and pieces, and he doesn't like what he's remembering. So he suppresses it. And then pretends it's not happening. And then when he can't pretend, it turns to outright lies. Maybe by then he's gotten together with Obi-Wan, and he's happy, so happy.

Luke and Leia are growing up so healthy, he's helping the Resistance (but has never been allowed to actively participate, just been made to teach and engineer things, which now he understands why, and it wasn't the excuse they gave that he was a father now and too precious to risk.) and now, after actual rest, and time, and food and not being crushed under a mountain of PTSD, exhaustion, stress, etc., etc., he can see that he was just a desperate, angry fool, Palpatine's plaything that went along right with it, and didn't even try to deviate because he'd fallen into a completely nihilistic mindset.

Now he has a family. Obi-Wan is happy; lately he's stopped having that haunted, tight look in his eyes. If Anakin reveals that he remembers everything.... he'll ruin everything. Again.

So he'll keep pretending to not know that he's a murderer.

(But for how long can that last?)

#asks #Anonymous #uhhh sorry nonnie #have a mint #on me #for the sads #obikin

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mykoreanlove · 8 months

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AMNESIA

„So, you’re telling me she has no idea who she is? Or who you are? For real?“ Chan nodded glumly. „She got into a car accident a couple of days ago. Luckily, she survived without greater damage, but her memory is gone.“ „All of it?“ Chan looked into the bewildered eyes of his friend. „All of it“, he replied defeated. „What are you going to do?“ „What do you mean?“ „Well, it’s not like she knows who you are anymore. All her feelings for you are gone. Did you break up?“ He choked on his beer. „Are you out of your mind? Y/N is the love of my life. I would never give her up. Even if she doesn’t remember me now, I will find a way.“ „To remember you?“ Chan nodded. He spent countless nights researching, scouting through medical reports of patients getting their memories back. The circles under his eyes were as dark as the night but he would try anything to get you back. Anything. „And if she doesn’t?“ He felt the anxiety rising in his body again. There was a chance of you never getting back all your memories. He was terrified by that. Chan gulped down the rest of his beer, wiping away the foam from his lips. „If she won’t remember me then I have to make her fall in love with me again. I have to. I just have to.“

„Sunshine, you have no idea who I am?“ A beautiful boy with blue hair looked at you with concerned eyes, devastated by the news of your memory loss. „No“, you shook your head ashamed. „I’m sorry.“ He jumped on the bed next to you taking your hand into his. „Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, love.“ Love? Were you two in love? You felt tension in your gut, as if your body was communicating with you. „You are y/n and I am Felix and we‘re basically best friends“, he cheered at you. Ah, best friends. That tension informed you correctly, your body was in fact communicating with you. It was nice knowing that you had a best friend, one that was as caring as Felix. You started crying, overpowered by your emotions. „Felix, I feel so dumb.“ He wiped away the tears and rubbed your hand silently. He wanted to hug you and reassure you, but he was afraid of overstepping boundaries. He really wanted to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but he hesitated, not knowing if that possibility could actually ever come true. Instead, he kept rubbing your hand and sat with you in silence.

Your phone vibrated - it was a text from Binnie. Binnie. That name sounded sweet on your tongue but that was about it. You hated being like this. He sent you a selfie - a big pout was plastered on his sad face. „Working out without you is just not the same. Get better quickly, y/n. I miss you.“ You were curious about your relationship with him, so you started scouting your past conversations. Endless photos of you working out, eating well and drinking protein shakes as well as encouragements when one of you felt down were the norm. You felt sad but consoled at the same time. So, I like to work out, huh? You took a glance of your body and nodded respectfully, being happy about your athletic accomplishments. I guess I do. Your head fell back on the silky cushion. You tried remembering going to the gym but nothing came up. You could imagine what the heavy weights would feel like but that was just your imagination making things up. Not one real session came to mind. Not one. You sighed in frustration. Again.

„Yo sis, do you got any snacks in here?“ Apparently, you had a little brother, Innie, who was more concerned with eating than your well-being. „I don’t even know my name and you’re asking me about snacks?“, you huffed annoyed. „Try the second counter, maybe you’ll find some Pepero in there.“ Innies face fell flat. „What did you just say?“ He was confusing you. „Second counter, Pepero?“ Innie jumped up and down, running over to you excitedly. „Y/N, you big moron. You love Pepero!! You remembered!!“ Surprise washed over you. „I do?“ „Yes“, he nodded his head in anticipation. „You love them. Especially the green tea ones. You never share those with me.“ He paused for a second, side-eyeing you. „Maybe forget about your Pepero greed as well, if you’re already at it.“ Normally, you would have smacked him for being rude, but you were too flabbergasted to act. You remembered. A tiny thing but you remembered. Tears were staining your cheeks once more but this time they were laced with hope.

As the news of your memory loss spread, you got contacted by the most random people. People who claimed to be friends from Highschool, distant relatives you never even heard of and apparently also your ex-boyfriend. A random knock on your door woke you up from your slumber. „Hey.“ A very gorgeous guy entered your room, making you hate yourself even more for not remembering. „It’s past visiting hours.“ „Yeah, I know. But I had to come see you, y/n.“ He moved gracefully, almost like an elegant cat. „Do you really not remember me?“ There was sadness in his eyes, but you had no idea why. He placed the flowers he brought for you on your nightstand and took a seat next to your bed. „I don’t know if I should laugh or cry about the absurdity of this situation. I was your first great love, y/n. Your first everything, actually.“ Heat arose in your chest. Oh shit, he was my first everything? This dude? Damn. „I’m sorry I don’t remember you.“ „Minho“, he said sternly. „I am Minho.“ You nodded soundly. You watched him for a while, wondering why you two didn’t last. Minho read your mind, answering before you could even ask. „Because I fucked up, y/n. I prioritized myself, my work. I took you for granted and stopped putting you first. I..“ His eyes started to water. Was he always emotional like this? Minho cleared his throat before continuing. „I never told you this, but I hated myself for doing that. I hated losing you. I still do.“ Your eyes widened in shock. Did he just confess? „Minho“, you replied frantically. „I know, I know. You don’t remember a single thing.“ He looked into your eyes, not breaking eye contact. „You don’t remember our first kiss behind the bleachers, and you don’t remember all the trips we took to the sea because you love building sandcastles that much. You also don’t remember all the heated nights in which you screamed my name, and you also don’t remember me confessing my love the first time at Han river. I know.“ You felt bad. Your relationship sounded great, and it irked you losing your whole life like that. „It’s selfish of me to say but you losing your memory also means you forgot all the shitty parts of our story, too. That’s actually a relief“, he concluded. Minho got up to leave but you grabbed his hand, pleading him to stay. „I’d like to know.“

„Damn, you lost all your memories? That’s wild.“ You got visited by your mother and cousin - apparently. „Sweetie, did you remember anything at all?“ Her question irked you, making you feel like an even bigger loser. You tried conjuring up memories, you tried sniffing familiar scents, you even tried praying to God but apparently you were on your own on this one. „I don’t get it. How do you lose all your memories?“ „Han“, your mother‘s pressing tone warned him to stop. „No, I mean, where do they even go?“ You hated his guts in this moment, but he made you think, actually think. Where did my memories go? Who am I without them? Am I still me?

„Hey, are you up?“ You got a text from someone you had saved as Dickhead Kim. You chuckled to yourself. I got humor, well done past y/n. „Yeah.“ „I had no intentions on texting you but my friends talked me into it.“ Ah, I’m starting to see why I saved him like that. „What do you want then?“ „Right. Since you have no idea who I am, I should introduce myself first. I am Kim Seungmin, your hated rival at work. You and I don’t get along, we kinda hate each other.“ Blurry images of an office and bitter coffee flashed your mind. „We always compete against each other and I am better than you, obviously.“ You rolled your eyes. The audacity of this dude. „However, since you’re away there is no one for me to compete against so I’d like for you to come back quickly. Get well soon, y/n.“ Weirdly enough, you found that kind of charming. „I’m gonna kick your ass in no time, dickhead Kim. Thanks.“

„You really want me to spill the tea? Should you not rest or something?“ Your nurse had just started his career and his dramatic antics were the highlight of your hospital stay. „Hyunjin, please. Entertain me.“ He closed the door and sat on the bed with you, braiding your hair while sharing the latest gossip. After a while you stopped listening and observed him instead. He was extremely beautiful, an ethereal level of beauty you had never seen before. Right from the beginning you wondered why he was a nurse and not a model. His brown eyes turned into little crescents as he smiled widely, explaining that he wanted to have a positive impact on people’s lives and hence he chose to help others heal as best as he could. You liked that about him. You also liked his many stories of living life to the fullest, an immediate result of him being confronted with death way too often. „… and then he asked to see me again but unfortunately, I’m not into toxic dick, so I was like NEXT. Hey, y/n, are you listening?“ You sensed his offended tone immediately. „Sorry Hyunjin, I just..“ Tears started flowing again and you looked away ashamed. „Hey, don’t hide from me. What was it? Something I said?“ You shook your head. „I don’t want to be like this anymore. I want to remember my life, I want to know who I am. Do I work a job that is as fulfilling as yours? Do I date a lot like you do? Am I into toxic dick? I don’t know who I am anymore and it frightens the shit out of me.“ Hyunjin hugged you, patting your back as you let it all out. „I’m not going to pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes now. Your memories may come back, or they may be lost forever. That’s not in your control right now. However...“ He got up and took your hand, ushering you to come out with him. „We can always make new memories, can’t we?“

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accirax · 7 months

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Elliot Cuevas Lore Check (Yoidoreshirazu MV Analysis)

After the intellectuals in our community had the thought to check the description of DRDTdev’s latest MV masterpiece, one fact became pretty clear: DRDT’s sparkly new MV is not fronted by one of our main cast of sixteen, or even a particularly pre-established side character. Instead, it’s time for Elliot Cuevas to take the stage, and bring with him a lot of questions ranging from “wait, that’s what he looks like?” to “wait, is the killing game predicated on a basis of lies?!” There’s… a lot running through my mind right now, and I see no better way to process it than to start answering the questions that I and others may have as best I can through a theory post. I’m living!

And when I say “answering the questions,” I mean that quite literally. I think that the best way to frame this analysis is to divide it into headlining questions, and tackle what we know and what we can learn piece by piece. Therefore, I think the most obvious question we can start with is:

#1: Who is Elliot Cuevas?

We don’t have a ton of information about the guy, but I’ve tried to compile what we do. By far the most information we’d gotten on Ellie prior to this MV was from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A, where DRDTdev described a little about all of the major siblings we’d heard of so far. Here’s what DRDTdev said:

So, we know that Elliot was given the nickname “Ellie” (and presumably likes it, given that he’s credited in the MV as “Ellie”), and he looks really similar to Charles, which we also saw in the MV. Given how similar he looks to Charles, I’m going to assume that they’re biological brothers, which would make Ellie hispanic/latino. Similarly, I’m assuming that he identifies as male, due to his use of he/him pronouns and the term “brother” being applied to him. He likes pancakes and dogs, which… we’ll get back to later. Charles is stated to be 18+ at the start of Despair Time, which would make Ellie 29-32+ if he were alive today. Which… huh. Is he?

#2: Is Ellie alive?

The belief that Ellie is dead isn’t just a popular headcanon that metamorphosed into “fact”– his death is directly referenced in the text in the form of Charles’ secret. Your older brother, Elliot, died.

However, this MV does make it tempting to believe that Ellie could be alive, so let’s give it the benefit of the doubt for a moment. If Ellie is alive, there are two sets of two questions to consider.

Question #1: If Ellie is alive, why did people think he died?

Ellie was in a life threatening scenario that people believed he didn’t escape from, but he did. After this, he either took the opportunity to disappear, or something prevented him from reuniting with his loved ones.

Ellie did die, and the DRDT universe contains some sort of necromantic magic or time travel properties that could bring him back to life.

Question #2: If Ellie is alive, why does the secret say that he’s dead?

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to tell the truth. They learned the information from a source that led them to believe that Ellie had died, and if Ellie turned up alive, they would be just as surprised as everyone else.

Whoever wrote the secrets (likely the mastermind) did so intending to lie. They knew that Ellie was really alive, and included his “death” in the secret just to fuck with Charles. This could also imply that other students’ secrets incorporate some level of lies.

If Ellie is alive, I think that the #1 situation is more likely for both questions.

If Ellie is dead, we don’t know exactly when his death happened. Given that Charles cites it under the umbrella of “childhood amnesia,” we can pin Ellie’s hypothetical death down to a time when Charles was a child. The National Institute of Health defines childhood as 3-11 years old. So, if Ellie died when Charles was 3-11, it would mean Ellie’s age of death would fall between 14 and 23.

I made this little moodboard to try to piece together around what age Ellie might be depicted as in the MV based on how DRDTdev has drawn people of various ages before. This is important under the assumption that Ellie canonically looked like this at some point during his life. ‘Cause (picking obviously wrong numbers here), if Ellie had died when he was, like, 2, it’d be weird if the MV showed him when he was, like, 50, right?

Allow me to take a little detour to discuss the Nageishi sisters and establish their ages. I initially ballparked Arei’s age as around 13 in that picture, which would have made her sisters (who are 2-5 years older than her) 15-18. However, there’s some actual evidence we can pull upon to clarify when that image might have come from.

In Arei and J’s FTE, J says that Arei “definitely [*was*] a highschool bully,” and Arei confirms that she was “the queen of her school.” Assuming that these two are to be believed, we can estimate based on the average age at which an American enters high school as a freshman that Arei has been a bully since at least around 14. While I don’t necessarily expect that Arei came in and became the queen bee on the first day of freshman year, it certainly would have been easier to establish her reign if the other students hadn’t previously seen her being bullied and tortured for a year or so beforehand. Therefore, Arei is probably in a maximum of eighth grade (12-13) in that image, so that she would have had enough time to sabotage her sisters before entering high school.

Additionally, although it isn’t stated in the secret the killing game handed out, Arei confesses to David and Teruko that she “got [her sisters] unlawfully sent to reform school.” Through a bit of googling, I learned that many reform schools cap out at about 16-17 years old, although it’s impossible to confirm that without knowing which state Arei grew up in. If that’s the case, then Fuyuko and Natsuko could only be a maximum of 17 years old, which is in the same sort of age range as Arei being a maximum of 15 in that picture. However, I don’t know if the Nageishi parents/the government would find it too useful to send the sisters to reform school for only one year, so it seems more likely that they’re younger than that in the picture. I might ballpark that Arei is 12 and Fuyuko and Natsuko are 15 in the picture.

Anyways, I think we can definitely rule out the possibility of Ellie dying when Charles was on the lower end of the age spectrum. He looks way older than any of the characters drawn “when they were kids”, and notably older than Arei as well. To me, he also looks older than Ryan, meaning he probably reached the age of an 18+ adult.

Unfortunately, there’s a really large age range that’s gone undepicted between the “18+” killing game participants and Mariabella, the only “parent-aged” adult we’ve seen so far. I would probably put Ellie’s appearance between the two, but it’s also possible that his unkempt hair and eyebags are making him look older than he actually was, a la Syobai Hashimoto of SDRA2 (the link is a spoiler-free picture of him). Syobai’s exact age is unknown, but generally young, yet many people think he’s an old man when they first see him. That phenomenon could be going on with Ellie as well.

If he is, we’ll say, 20 or older, though, there’s a limited number of ages he could have died at that would still fall within Charles’ childhood. If Ellie died, he did so when Charles was in the 8-11 kind of age range. Otherwise, for Ellie to reach the age he’s shown at in the MV, he probably survived to grow older than Charles’ family last remembers him. I think Ellie’s death is probably more likely, but, hey, that means we’ve narrowed down the period in which Charles could have acquired his childhood amnesia. That’s something!

#3: How does Charles feel about Ellie?

Well, okay. Obviously, in the current day, Charles doesn’t know who Ellie is, and therefore probably doesn’t have any strong feelings about him other than confusion. But, before Charles forgot about him, what was Charles’ opinion?

I actually thought that Charles really admiring Ellie was a canon fact, but looking back at it, I don’t think it was ever directly stated. That said, there are several reasons why I thought that their relationship was a positive one.

Told you we’d come back to Ellie liking pancakes! I’m sure it’s not a coincidence that, when Charles thinks of what he’d like to learn how to cook, he comes up with Ellie’s favorite food. It could be that Ellie used to make pancakes for Charles, or that they simply used to go out and get pancakes together, but Charles clearly has some sort of repressed memories about pancakes with his brother that makes him want to seek them out again.

We already knew that Charles and Ellie were known to look very alike, and this MV confirmed that was true, down to the length of their hair. If Charles didn’t like Ellie, he easily could have kept his hair short, like the haircut he had as a child, as a way to make them look less similar. However, Charles is very attached to keeping his hair in a long ponytail, just as Ellie wears it. That implies to me that Charles saw Ellie as enough of a role model to seek replicating the image of his brother through his own style even when he doesn’t remember that Ellie existed. That’s powerful.

#4: Why does Ellie look… like that?

Now this is a point that I’m still confused about. Charles’ affluent backstory has been alluded to multiple times. Both his inability to do his own laundry and his lack of knowledge in the kitchen imply that he had people to cook and clean for him. It’s possible that Charles’ parents were the ones doing that for him (which implies some level of wealth, but not so much as living in a house full of butlers and maids), but the general vibe I’ve gotten is that Charles’ family was well-off enough that they hired help.

If we assume that Charles and Ellie are biological brothers who spent enough time together to form a notable bond, it really seems like they would have grown up in the same household for both of their youths, together. So then, what gives with Ellie’s appearance? The patched up jacket, blemished face, and basic cigarette don’t match at all with the pristine white mansion with hedges that many might imagine for Charles. How would that have played out?

Option A: Ellie was the family’s rebellious wild child

I’m having trouble coming up with good examples, but there’s definitely a trope out there of a big brother character who’s a bit of a rude rebel, but still a pure-hearted dreamer that their younger sibling(s) can really look up to. Ellie was just the member of the uptight Cuevas family that couldn’t be tamed, no matter how hard his parents tried to cramp his thrifty style or stop him from going out and partying(?).

Notably, this option is quite confusing for Charles. Even if this figure is considered the typical epitome of cool, I don’t know if it’s someone who Charles would really gel with. As a child, Charles is depicted as pretty wide-eyed and innocent with his adorable little bubbles. I’m not saying that that kind of kid couldn’t come to idolize their rockstar big bro– just that, if they did, they probably wouldn’t turn out like Charles. Still, it could be an opposites attract situation, or perhaps forgetting Ellie and the ensuing trauma changed Charles more than we would have expected.

This interpretation is also… a bit of a leap, considering what we’ve seen of Ellie.

Like, these are not particularly the expressions of a thrill-seeking party animal who loves to crack open a cold one with the boys. Most of his expressions look wary, scary, or contemplative, and even the two that are smiling are doing so in more of a wry/teasing way. Fun-loving scamp Ellie might fit the way he’s styled his body, but not so much the expressions on his face. Perhaps the characterization was a little off?

Option B: Ellie was the family’s edgy black sheep

Instead of Ellie’s cigarette and messy ponytail implying that he’s supposed to be punk and cool, perhaps they’re meant to indicate that he was more emo and nihilistic. I don’t imagine that the Cuevas household would’ve liked this too much either, but it’s still a plausible way for a privileged teen to rebel against his family system. This kind of attitude matches more with the range of expressions we can gather from Yoidoreshirazu.

However, if it would be hard for Charles to relate to the last guy, I have no idea what Charles would be doing looking up to this guy. Maybe if their one-on-one moments showed Charles the soft heart behind Ellie’s tough exterior, Charles would’ve come to appreciate his perspective on life…? Yeah, I don’t really imagine these two enjoying a plate of pancakes together, either. Also, this would have been when Charles was, like, a kindergartener.

But if that’s the case, what then? Is my image of the Cuevas household just totally off? Or is this version of Ellie not compatible with the Cuevas household at all?

Option C: Ellie was kicked out of his family and left for dead

Especially in front of the grimy brick background and neon street sign, Ellie’s worse-for-wear appearance did make me think that this image of him could have been taken from a time when Ellie was without a home and living on the streets. As in, this look was never associated with the Cuevas household at all.

This option has some definite appeal because it allows a lot more flexibility from Ellie’s personality before he was kicked out. He could have been a stand-up guy, smart like Charles and a great mentor too, and only have adopted his more dour personality once he was kicked out of home. There are plenty of reasons why someone could be disowned that don’t (necessarily) reflect poorly on their character: Google lists being LGBTQ+, dating someone of a different race or religion, getting someone pregnant, or not following the profession your parents wanted for you as possibilities, depending on who the parents are and what they believe.

Any interpretation where the Cuevas parents are somewhat ashamed of Ellie would also help to rationalize why Mr. and Mrs. Cuevas lied to Charles about being an only sibling. If they really loved Ellie, they might have tried to bridge the subject with Charles one day, and not let the memory of their elder son fade into history. If he was someone they didn’t want to associate with in the first place, covering up his death would have been much more emotionally viable.

So, if the Cuevas parents are the kind of people to disown their kid for less-than-fair reasons, Ellie could have still been the kind of treasured big brother figure to Charles one might have expected while also getting kicked to the curb. However, this option raises the definite question of… how did Ellie’s death happen?

On the surface, that might seem like a strange question. Sadly, homeless people in the United States have an average life span that’s 17.5 years shorter than the average housed person’s life span, and the number of deaths have only been increasing in recent years. Especially in a civilization that was once home to the biggest, most awful, most tragic event in human history, trying to survive without a home might be quite difficult.

All that doesn’t really apply to Ellie, though, because we have a pretty decent lead on how he died: dog attack.

Even if he might not remember why, Charles dislikes dogs, and has a remnant of that turbulent relationship etched into his very skin. Ellie actually likes dogs, an interesting point of contrast, but one that makes it clear that dogs are important to Charles’ backstory in some manner. I and others have then speculated that the attack in which Charles got that scar on his arm may have been the time at which Ellie died. Both events– the attack that created the scar and Ellie’s passing– were erased by his childhood amnesia.

The story would play out as something along the lines of “Ellie and Charles used to both really love dogs, and were approached by a dog one day. However, that dog was feral, and attacked Charles. He was bitten on the arm before Ellie told Charles to run as Ellie stayed behind to protect his brother. However, Ellie couldn’t fend off the dog himself, and was instead mauled to death. Charles escaped with an injured arm and a head full of trauma that would cause him to fully erase the memory of his brother from his mind.” Don’t know how feasible that exact scenario is, but I always imagined it as something like that.

So, if Ellie was living on the street at the time of his death, how would the two of them have come together for the dog to attack? Maybe Charles could have been visiting Ellie on his own, but, again, he would have been 8-11 years old at the time. Would the 8-11 year old Charles have really had the means or motive to set out alone to see his brother, and would the Cuevas family have really let their elementary school-aged son wander off into the streets alone?

Then there’s the issue of Ellie’s age again. Look. I’m not trying to say that every 23 year old should be able to 1v1 a feral dog in a fight. I’m 23, and if I had to fight a street dog to the death, I would probably lose! However, while I am a quiet nerd who likes to write thousand word essays about anime video game fanfiction characters in her free time, Ellie seems like a fairly athletic young man. If he looks like Charles, he’s also probably around Charles’ height of 5’9”. Plus, it probably didn’t have to be to the death. Couldn’t Ellie have used those long legs to run away, or his human hands to make an improvised weapon, or something? To me, it feels much more plausible for Ellie to have been killed in a dog attack if he were also a child/teen when it happened. But, that should be incompatible with his appearance in the MV. Unless–

Option D: Ellie became this way… after he was “dead”?

Wait, what? No, wait, I thought I had already determined that Ellie was dead! What do you mean it might ACTUALLY MAKE MORE SENSE IF HE WAS ALIVE??? WHAT HAS THIS MV COME TO?! AAAAAAAAAA–

Well. If this version of Ellie is what he “became” after he faked his death (or had it faked for him), certain elements start to line up. There is no conflict with the Cuevas family, because Ellie’s personality could have been completely different than what we see in Yoidoreshirazu. Similarly, we don’t have to solve why Charles would have built such a bond with this guy because this guy may not have existed when he was interacting with Charles. The brothers growing up in a household together would make it considerably easier for them both to encounter a mean dog at the same time. And, if Ellie didn’t have to reach this 20+ age before he disappeared from Charles’ life, the whole story could have been set much earlier, such that Ellie could have been fending the dog off when he was more of a kid or teen himself. Then, being separated from his family and presumed dead is what caused Ellie to lose his faith in life, take up his smoking habit, and hardly be able to sleep or smile.

This could still involve him being forced to live on the streets, although I would then wonder why he didn’t ever try to get back in contact with his family. Maybe he did and they turned him away? But, if he was an admirable son, I see no reason why they would do that. Perhaps he had expressed a bit more discontentment with the Cuevas family prior, and decided that, given this opportunity, it was for the best to sever his ties with them? That seems like a pretty extreme decision to keep up with given the state that Ellie seems to have wound up in, and would call into question how much Ellie cared about Charles if he was so willing to leave him behind.

It would kind of make more sense to me if, in this scenario, an outside force was stopping Ellie from reuniting with his family– for instance, if XF-Ture Tech offered Ellie a deal like they did to Min (somewhat forcing his hand), which included that he could never contact his family again. That could certainly make Ellie more important to the plot moving forward, and explain part of why he even got this MV. But, what would XF-Ture Tech want to do with some kid who was just near-fatally mauled by a dog attack? An near-fatal attack that… he doesn’t even seem to have scars on his face, neck, or right hand from???

Option E: this is how ellie looks in heaven or hell or whatever i don’t freakin know

Some of you may have been screaming at me the entire time that Ellie’s design may not be “canon,” so to speak, and you know what? That’s valid. It could simply be a projection of what Ellie could have looked like if he’d ever grown to this point in age, or his appearance may have been modified to better match Gumi’s disheveled vibe in the original Yoidoreshirazu MV, and not reflect his true personality. Ellie and Gumi do have really similar poses, cigarettes and all.

However, it would seem a little odd to me to give the audience what’s basically an AU design of Ellie before we got the original version. That would lead to insanely wrong conclusions like what I just wrote above if true, which could potentially cause people to interpret future content incorrectly. That’s not good. Besides, the song was still chosen for Ellie, and the song carries the same sort of gritty, nightlife vibe that the Gumi design does. Could the lyrics of the song really fit Ellie so well that the entire energy of the song and appearance of the MV could be waived?

#5: What’s up with these lyrics?

Sigh. I hate to move on to the next talking point when I haven’t yet resolved what we were last discussing, but, to be honest, I don’t know if I can resolve why Ellie looks and acts like that with the information we currently have. I’m kind of banking on the lyrics swaying me in the right direction when it comes to that interpretation, but given that I’m probably going to have to reverse engineer a lot of the lyrics’ meaning, I don’t have high hopes.

Well, we’ve already seen how I think these lyrics would apply to Rose, so how do I think they would fit Ellie? More questions ahead, but please note that I may be taking certain lyrics more specifically than they’re meant to be interpreted. I don’t have much else to go off of, so for the sake of gaining pretty much any knowledge I kinda have to assume the lyrics are total slam dunks.

#6: What can we learn about Ellie’s personality?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard All of this bickering goes on til the dawn comes

Ellie wakes up and immediately begins to complain. Unless he’s bickering with himself, he isn’t alone, although that doesn’t necessarily mean he has friends. In the original song, I imagine this lyric to be more about passersby or the general state of the world, so it could be the same case for Ellie.

In Ellie’s case, it’s unclear exactly what being a “drunkard” means. It could just be the literal interpretation, where Ellie is an alcoholic. I wouldn’t know. Being a drunkard could also extend to being an addict in general— we can be pretty certain that Ellie is a smoker (unless see Option E above). It could also be that the “drunkard” part of the phrase is less important and it’s more just about being unaware. Although, that would require further interpretation for later lines like “getting drunk again and again,” and Drunkard is also half of the song’s title (“An Unaware Drunkard”). Still, Elliot could be enveloped in the same sort of general haze I described back when I gave this song to Rose. Or, he could literally just be a guy that likes to drink a lot. Either way, it gives off the impression of someone who spends more time centered in his own world than butting into others’ businesses.

The singing voices are uncountable And once one gets lost in them, they end up at your xx Hey, look at how pretty it is, the day dream rondo I hide a thousand and can only spit out ten

More introvert coding– he really doesn’t like being in large groups of people. Ellie keeps the same pretty neutral expression throughout all of these lines in the MV, which makes it kind of hard to discern exactly what these statements mean for him. Like, is “look how pretty it is” supposed to show how he’s easily distracted by dreams and frivolous things, or how he’s using positive things to distract those around him from how he “hides a thousand and can only spit out ten”? In either case, that latter line seems to imply that Ellie is dissatisfied with whatever he’s doing in life (or death?) right now– “can only spit out” makes me think that he feels he should be doing more.

Giving in, I’m living Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad

Ah, the infamous screenshot from the presumed dead man. This smirky face gives some definite context for the attitude of these lines. Ellie seems smug or proud that he’s living… because he’s beating the death allegations? Well, it could also be that he just enjoys living a life of sin (smoking and drinking), and/or enjoys defying the expectations of the Cuevas family in this way. There’s also a certain irony to saying “I’m living” while flaunting a cigarette in his hand. Ellie may also be someone who enjoys tempting fate and defying the odds.

Ellie’s facial expressions with these lines make me believe that he actually thinks that getting drunk again and again is pretty cool, and it’s not just a deflection from a tumultuous mind. Which, again, begs the question of whether the “drinking” is literal, or a metaphor for something else. With not much other information to go off of, I’m kind of assuming it’s both at the moment. Ellie (in this state) probably is someone who drinks and enjoys doing it, but also someone who doesn’t feel any guilt over ignoring– or forgetting– his problems.

#7: Did Ellie also forget about Charles?

There are a strange number of lines in this song that could imply that Ellie isn’t just being ignorant, he’s actually forgetting about something big. That something could be the memory of his younger brother, just like how Charles forgot the memory of his elder. Runs in the family, I guess?

I woke up as an unaware drunkard

Starting at the very first line, you could begin to view the lyrics through the lens of someone who lacked information about their past: “Elliot woke up somewhere random mostly forgetting who he was in a hazy state of being.” To be clear, I’m not saying that that’s the interpretation of the line, just an interpretation of the line. It’s an interpretation that builds further connections with later lyrics, though.

And then The sacred mountain is covered in mud, it’s smeared and chipping away, ah yes, it's not half bad

That's my muddy, obstructed, and broken vision of the future- It’s not half bad

These lines focus on something being damaged or broken. Ignoring the original song’s references to Mount Penglai, which are completely absent from this MV, I would interpret a character’s “sacred mountain” as their central motivation. The pursuit of this goal would be very important, or “sacred” to them, and just as majestic as it is difficult to traverse and achieve. That pairs well with Ellie losing his view of the future, as both indicate that he’s completely forgotten what his purpose in life is.

And yet, he insists that it’s not half bad. Why? The most likely reason is that, for whatever reasons made him look like this, Ellie has just adopted the same sort of fatalistic behavior as Gumi did in her MV. However, you also might not think that forgetting something was bad if you ever forgot that you forgot it. For the majority of his life, Charles hasn’t thought that forgetting Ellie was a terrible ordeal because he had no clue that Ellie even existed. For Ellie, it could be frightening to know that you’ve forgotten a lot of who you are, but also freeing. That dichotomy could be what resulted in his current pensive yet playful behavior.

Getting drunk again and again, unexpectedly- Ah, it's not half bad I'm a drunkard unaware of my rival in love, so

I'm a drunkard unaware of the story

These lines are ones that really made me think that Ellie could have forgotten Charles in particular. I’m really not sure what “rival in love” was supposed to mean in the original song, but for Ellie, that rival being his brother makes sense. He doesn’t have a lover, as far as we’re aware, but he may have had to fight against Charles for his parents’ affections in the past. Many siblings have a competitive relationship with one another, so Charles could also be described as a rival who Ellie loves. Charles is an easy stand-in for “the story” as well, as long as we assume that the main plot of the killing game is considered “the story.” Charles is a major player in the killing game who’s already been going on a major story arc of his own, and, being Ellie’s little brother, it would make sense if Ellie’s priorities in the story were Charles-focused were he aware of the killing game.

What would it mean if Ellie had forgotten Charles, though? It seems most likely to me that, if both brothers came to forget one another, the trauma would have stemmed from the same event. But, if Charles forgot about Ellie because of that dog attack, Ellie could have only had time to forget who Charles was if he survived for long enough after the attack to have that revelation. Also, don’t know how important this is, but if the attack gave Charles childhood amnesia, would it have had the same effect on a 20+ year old man? I don’t know enough about amnesia to know if the same circumstances that would cause a child to discard their memories would also result in an adult forgetting about aspects of their life. Then again, Ellie almost certainly suffered greater damage than Charles, so any aftereffects may have been more severe.

I obviously can’t declare with 100% certainty that Ellie forgot who Charles was, nor can I even get particularly close. Still, these strange threads seemed to be too prominent to ignore, and this was the best solution I could find to them with the information we know now.

#8: Who is “you”?

Twice in Yoidoreshirazu’s lyrics does the singer reference a character as “you.”

Neglecting my happiness, I never want to sober up until it's time to listen to your voice I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my body is dyed

Please don't let this fleeting happiness go away, until I can lend an ear by your side I’m giving into you, but you don’t even have anything to say and my heart is dyed

This person is quite important to the singer, as the singer craves their voice and succumbs to their person, their body and soul colored by the experience. And yet, there’s a sense of isolation, as “you” refuses to say anything back to the singer. It’s a classic tale of immense devotion met with quiet rejection for Ellie to partake in with… someone. I don’t know who.

For what it’s worth, I do think the lyrics imply that this is another human person as opposed to, say alcohol. While alcohol can certainly have a profound impact on a person, causing their happiness to come and go and changing aspects of their physicality, “you” is referred to with enough human traits that it doesn’t match up. Maybe anthropomorphized alcohol could have a voice, but when has it ever needed you to listen to it? To my knowledge, lending an ear to the bottle itself is pretty unheard of.

So, is “you” Charles? That makes some sense, as Charles is the only relevant character to Ellie’s story that we know much about. Based on what we’ve already established about Ellie and Charles’ probable bond, Ellie could definitely fit the devoted older brother character in one flavor or another. But then, why would Charles have rejected him? Could be the whole childhood amnesia thing, but then Ellie would have had to exist during a period of time when Charles had already developed the amnesia and also remember who Charles was enough himself to care. Charles could have also just not liked him much, but that contradicts with the evidence presented back at Question 3.

Honestly, I don’t think Charles is “you,” despite my lack of other options. Perhaps “we” can figure this out?

worn out, we all look horrible until all thousand voices become hoarse

Yeah, there’s also a “we” in Yoidoreshirazu, which furthers the idea that, wherever he is/was, Ellie isn’t alone. The lyrics make it unclear whether the “we” is the singer + you (and maybe others), or just the singer + others– I’d probably lean that it probably wasn’t meant to include “you” in the original, but who knows how DRDTdev chose to interpret the song. Still, as alcohol isn’t normally described as “looking horrible,” this further implies that there are other human characters referenced in Ellie’s MV. In the case of “we,” Ellie also has to associate with these people enough to include himself as part of them. He’s in a group. Why? How? When?

#9: What differences are there between this MV and the original?

This one goes out to all the people who thought to go back and check the original Literature Girl Insane MV for differences while we were dealing with that whole project! It inspired me to try the same thing here, and see what happened.

Yoidoreshirazu is a much easier task than LGI, though, because it’s a simpler song and MV on all fronts. Both MVs only portray one character, one location, and one color for the lyrics to be transcribed in. (There’s also only, like, a max of twelve words on screen at a time, unlike David’s mental library.) For the most part, the two Yoidoreshirazus are very similar. None of the lyrics were edited from Magenetra’s translation on the vocaloid lyrics wiki, the lights turn on and off at the same times, and the DRDT version doesn’t appear to include any additional puzzles or easter eggs. Still, they aren’t exactly the same, so I’ll write out the differences I found playing them side by side for both my own and others’ purposes.

Gumi is on screen at the start, then quickly disappears and comes back, while it takes Ellie until the lyrics start to appear.

Not much extra to explain on this point. It may indicate that Ellie was missing or absent for a longer period of time, or at least that he’s more mysterious/quiet than Yoidoreshirazu’s Gumi.

Gumi has her tongue out a lot more at the beginning of the song.

Before Ellie takes off his hood (so, basically for the first half of the song), he only sticks his tongue out for one part of the song, from 0:52 (“getting drunk again and again”) to 0:59 (“my rival in love”). Meanwhile, Gumi has her tongue out from the moment the lyrics start (0:09, “I woke up as an unaware drunkard”) to the end of the first stanza (0:25, “all thousand voices become hoarse”), and then does it again from 0:43 to 0:59, the entirety of the first chorus (“the sacred mountain” to “rival in love”). This gives Gumi the appearance of being more rebellious, while Ellie is more moody.

Gumi smiles a lot more than Ellie.

When Gumi returns from the first chorus (1:00), she’s already smiling. While she shifts from a satisfied smirk to a smug grin to an enraptured beam to a content smile, she doesn’t actually stop smiling from the minute mark on until the vocals stop (2:10). Meanwhile, Ellie doesn’t smile at all until 1:50, and drops the playful tongue-out expression after a mere six seconds. The only lines that Ellie smiles for are “I’m living / Getting drunk again and again– Ah, it’s not half bad,” which is quite interesting. The overall result is the same as the bullet point above; that Gumi is at least better at pretending to be happy while Ellie is lost in his sorrows.

Ellie and Gumi’s expressions are pretty different in general.

Here are all of Ellie’s expressions versus all of Gumi’s expressions. In the end, Gumi actually had more expressions, which I wasn’t expecting. Some of their faces are mirrors to each other, while others are different.

Both Ellie and Gumi have a serious eyes closed face, a bored/neutral face, a bored tongue-out face, a scary face with big eyes, and a sleazy grin. The only unique faces Ellie has on top of those are the more playful tongue-out smile (present only when his hood is off) and the contemplative downward gaze. Gumi has a knowing smile, a hopeful smile, and a content smile. With those differences, we conclude that, on the whole, Gumi seems to have a bit more hope in the world, while Ellie is downcast. I’m sure you couldn’t have guessed that by the results of the last two points (/s).

Ellie has a costume change.

Not hard to notice; Ellie takes his hood off mid-MV while Gumi keeps her outfit the same.

There’s a part of the song where Ellie disappears while Gumi is present.

If anything in this question is going to be important, it’s probably this tidbit. At 1:39 in DRDT Yoidoreshirazu and 1:37 in original Yoidoreshirazu, the line “and my heart is dyed” plays. At this point in the MV, Gumi is present on screen, but Ellie is not. Gumi then disappears alongside Ellie for the following “sore wa” before both reappear for the chorus, but the difference is still notable. Something about the line “and my heart is dyed” caused DRDTdev to remove Ellie from the MV when he otherwise should have been there. This could mean that Ellie’s absence is what caused his heart to be dyed, that Ellie was actually absent when the heart dying occurred, or something else. Regardless, the difference in visuals– especially one that leaves the lyrics as the only thing on screen for you to look at– means that “and my heart is dyed” is likely the most important lyric of the song for Ellie.

Ellie is doing a whole lot more in the final chorus.

This is probably why I thought that Ellie had more sprites than Gumi did, other than the whole two outfits thing. Throughout the entire second chorus, Gumi only uses one face, the smile with big eyes. Meanwhile, Ellie rotates through four different faces before returning to the one he started with; scary stare -> neutral -> eyes closed -> grin -> tongue-out smile -> scary stare. It gives Ellie a whole lot more character than Gumi had in that final portion. Granted, the inverse is also true: Ellie switched faces less frequently than Gumi at the beginning of the song. It leads me to believe that the lyrics at the end of the song may be more important to Ellie than the lyrics of the start, as the end is featured as the most memorable portion.

#10: So, um… What did we learn, exactly?

Honestly… I don’t know. Unlike the Chapter 2 murder, which is intended to be basically solvable, or even the characters’ secrets, which have had much revealed with minimal possible permutations, so little has been confirmed about Ellie that it makes it near impossible to settle on one answer as absolute truth. I can write out my current best theory about what may be going on with Ellie, but it’s honestly so implausible that I don’t really think it’s going to be canon myself.

If we prioritize the information given to us in this music video and the Q&As and disregard the effects that our conclusion might have on the story of DRDT as a whole, then I think the most likely option was actually Option D, Ellie became this way after he died. I think that Ellie was a bright young man– maybe not perfect, but still an older brother that Charles could look up to. Ellie and Charles were really close when Charles was a little kid, and they loved to hang out and eat pancakes together.

One day– maybe when Charles was about 4 and Ellie was about 16?– Ellie saw a dog on the side of the road and, loving dogs, brought his baby brother over to say hi to it. Unfortunately, the dog was feral and mean, and it bit Charles on the arm, injuring him greatly. Defending Charles, Ellie attacked the dog and told Charles to run away for safety. Charles made it back to his parents, bleeding and horribly traumatized, while Ellie did not. Ellie never came back home, so his parents had no choice but to assume he was dead. They chose to conceal the existence of their elder son from their younger, whether to avoid triggering Charles’ phobias or because they too wished him erased from the history books.

However, even though the world believed that Ellie had died, he actually survived! Though, not in one piece. He was probably severely wounded (perhaps leaving behind scars on any part of his body that wasn’t shown in the MV), and, just like his brother, suffered amnesia that caused him to forget who he was. From there, it depends on how he would have survived the dog attack.

If he barely emerged victorious from the battle due to his own power, then, with no memories, he was forced to live on the street. He gained his washed-up attitude from experiencing life’s hardships while being right on the cusp of remembering something more.

If he received aid from and then was indebted to a group like XF-Ture Tech, he may have been given some kind of help, but not without a cost. He probably started working for them in some capacity, even if he wasn’t a fan of his work/coworkers, and gained his washed-up attitude from years of nihilistically supporting the shady company.

The MV takes place in a time close to present day, when Ellie is reflecting on the state of his life and what he does remember. He hates the people he’s surrounded by, and can only lean on his bad habits (substance abuse and/or appearing more uncaring/airheaded than he actually is) to get by. He knows that he’s a shell of a person with no memories of his past or aspirations for his future, but there isn’t really anything he can do about it, right…? The vague memories of a “rival in love” and a main “story” are the only things giving him a taunting yet unerasable hope.

Woohoo, drama. But, like, that’s ridiculous, right? The secret literally said that Ellie was dead! How the hell could he still be alive? Did the mastermind’s source– whatever it was– just have the facts wrong, or are they actually lying? Wouldn’t the Cuevas family have looked harder for the body? Does amnesia even work like that? Does XF-Ture Tech even work like that???

Needless to say, I am still quite confused. The answer above is still the answer that makes the most sense to me, but it also has its own obvious flaws. I feel like I must just be straight up wrong about the identity of the Cuevas family, the method of Ellie’s death, the age at which Ellie appears in this MV, or something like that, but I don’t know what it would be. Even more than usual, I’d love to hear everyone else’s thoughts on this mysterious character. I feel like more analysis of the guy is going to come out soon, so hopefully some of the more numerical data like trying to pin down Ellie’s age or noticing the differences in the two MVs will help someone else make a breakthrough. Still, I encourage you to come forth with anything you have to say, because I want to hear it.

Thus concludes your instructional pamphlet on how to write an essay on a music video at a rate of 54 words per second of the music video. Thanks for reading!

#danganronpa despair time #drdt #drdt spoilers #elliot cuevas #charles cuevas #fanganronpa #yoidoreshirazu mv #i “finished” the analysis hooray #wish i had a conclusion for it #this was a very different theory to write than usual but that did make it fun #i feel like i totally lost my mind in there somewhere though so hopefully i don't come out looking like too much of a clown #the heart is dyed thing dude... what does it mean...#also glad people are listening to yoidoreshirazu in this house we stan kanaria #my theories

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