#it is by far the most hopeless she has ever felt

[myheartismadeofstars]

For Clover: ✨ and because my weird little mortician brain wants to know all about everyone’s funeral whether they actually exist or not: 🌓

- @heylittleriotact

🌓 - What would your OC’s funeral be like? Would they prefer a tomb, cremation, or to be given back to the earth? 

Okay so first thing you need to understand about Clover is that she's more Druid than Ranger, and her mother is a retired Cleric of Chauntea. She's also half wood Elf lmao.

She's very much a "return me to the earth" girly. Don't even put her in a coffin, she wants to nurture the land with her body. She wants her friends and family to gather to remember her fondly, not mourn. Don't cry because I'm gone, smile because you got to know me, type. There should be music and her favourite foods for everyone to enjoy.

Plant a tree or flowers or something to mark her grave, visit her often and have picnics there.

Honestly she's pretty chill about death as it is, seeing it as just the next part of life. And honestly, presuming this happens a century+ after the end of the game? She's literally fought Myrkul... she's not afraid of death

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: re-uploaded cause tumblr wouldn't show it in the tags for some reason Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con, Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atriedes, Horny Violence, and some angsty family relations (lmao)

Summary: The courting becomes more and more complicated, as both you and the Na-Baron discover something about each other.

Part.1, Part 3. Part 4.(finale)

- He's a beast.

Lady Jessica stops in her tracks, her hands sliding gently across the fabric of your nightgown. It's your Mother, that puts it out on the table next to your bed. But the person, who turns back towards you with an unreadable expression, is most definitely not her. You're talking to a Bene Gesserit sister now. A freezing chill runs up your spine, and you start picking at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you've picked up a long time ago.

- Have you forgotten all that I have taught you? - she asks, turning to face you fully, in the dimly lit space of your bedroom

Subconsciously you retreat into yourself, body leaning further away from her, as if that distance might save you from whatever unpleasant revelation will most likely fall upon you. Lady Jessica takes a deep breath, her lips pulling back into an easy, soothing smile. In the past, you would look for expressions such as this, fish them out for comfort. Now, as you look upon your Mother's face, it all seems to be a trap made specifically for you.

- Men like him, beastly men, are the weakest ones - she explains, taking slow steps towards your hunched form - They need the power and the blood to feel worthy of existing, which makes them easy to manipulate. Keep them pliant under your hands like fresh dough. 

She sits beside you, your mattress dipping under her weight, and your eyes are immediately drawn to your Mother's elegant hands, folded neatly in her lap. You wish you could put your head there. Have her pull your running thoughts out with gentle caresses. A hairbrush lays abandoned on the vanity in front of you, and silently you contemplate, whether you'll ever have the opportunity to have your hair brushed by her. 

- You must find his weakness, what drives him to do what he does. And then control it.

- I don't want to control my husband - the words spill out of your lips, before you have the chance to stop them - I want to love him, to support him. To give him children he'll love, children I'll love. 

Tears fall in heavy waterfalls down your cheeks. You haven't had the luxury of a good cry since your betrothed had arrived, and it feels divine. Letting your body shake and shiver, wrecked by uninhibited sobs, as your Mother looks down upon you, torn between the two roles she must fulfill. 

The more you've thought about your situation, the more hopeless you felt. The Harkonnens will never let you see your family again, you're sure of it. You'll have to deal with all the horrors of Giedi Prime entirely on your own, with no support from your husband, no friends, no family. And your children, as they are sure to come, will be taken away from you. Thrown into the black and white, until there's no love left in them. 

The Emperror is a cruel man, you think. An execution would've been a kinder end. 

- Why did you have to make me a Daughter? - the way your voice breaks in desperation fills you with shame - Why couldn't you give Father another Son?

You know you've overstepped, as soon as the accusatory tone registers in your brain. It is far too late by then, and the hands, which just moments before you've fantasized about running through your hair, grip you tightly. Your Mother's face, a constant image of beauty, twists into something darker, something you don't recognize, and you gasp, as her dull fingernails dig into the skin of your wrist.

- Your Father has Paul - her voice is barely above a whisper, blue eyes stabbing you with the intensity of her gaze - I gave him a son, because he asked for a son. Because I loved him enough to give him one. And he can have him. He can fill him with lessons of male leadership, of short-sighted plans. You. You are my Daughter. You are mine, and I've trained you well enough to conquer this task.

A hopeless pit settles itself in the void of your stomach.

You've always known your destiny would be to marry well, to further House Atreides' legacy. And yet, somehow, there was a sliver of hope, treacherously worming itself into your brain. Your Father had Paul, the perfect heir. Surely, he could send him off for the greater good and leave you to your own devices. Let you find someone to care for you, someone you'd do anything for. The thought sits in the pit of your stomach, turning your insides in shame. Still, you can't shake the sinking feeling, that if the universe was kind, you would've been born a Son. 

Your Mother, or more likely, the Bene Gesserit, stands up, a cold chill filling the space where her body used to sit. She regards you once, a stern, unwavering gaze.

- Wear black tomorrow.

Perhaps, you'll die in your sleep tonight. Perhaps the universe will bring you this small mercy.

*** Perhaps you did die. 

Through the haze of dreams, you can see him. Bare, as the day he was born, body gleaming white in the darkness of your room.

You can't move, can't see his face, and when he approaches, every single one of your muscles tense. You shift under the covers, cold tendrills of fear engulfing you entirely. He comes closer, moves like a wild cat, stands at the foot of your bed. 

The need to run is overwhelming, but your body refuses to listen, as slowly, torturously slowly, he climbs on top of you, defined muscles moving under his skin in a way that reminds you of some cursed demon, rather than a man. His scent fills your nostrils, a mixture of something heady and metalic, and, like a little child scared of the dark, you try to hide your face under the covers. 

This demon version of your betrothed sits down, sculpted thighs squeezing around your sides, and with rising panic you realize, he's slowly choking the life out of you. A fitting end, a welcomed one. Perhaps it would be better to die right now, before you discover what atrocities he plans to commit on your body and mind, after you're wedded. 

Then, his hand reaches behind his back, full lips pull upwards, exposing blackened out teeth. You barely register the glint of his sword, not until he holds it high up, above his hand. You're not allowed a moment to wallow in your confusion, as your future husband brings the weapon down, sinking it with brutal force into your beating heart.

You awake screaming.

***

In the morning, you pull a black tunic over your head, remnants of your dream clinging to you like an unwanted shadow. 

Every move of the silky fabric against your skin feels like a small defeat, and with your head hung low, you make your way towards the dining hall. Truly, you're not hungry, stomach turning and twisting, a steady presence of nerves keeping your body on edge. Your attendance is required however, such are customs, and it is entirely too eaarly for another lecture about your behaviour. 

As you enter the room, your mask of tired indifference slips just for a second, a mixture of fear and anger flickering in, and out of existence.

 There, opposite of your Father you can see him. Your future husband, the love of your miserable, ending life. Slow horror washes over you, as you suddenly realize that this demonic, otherwordly version of him, which visited you in your nightmares is just how he looks. He greets you with a polite inclination of his smooth head, and you consider not showing any outward sign of repulsion, a small victory on your part. Your Mother doesn't think so, but you dodge her sharp eyes in favor of greeting your brother.

It doesn't go unnoticed, the way Feyd Rautha's eyes drink in greedily the sight of you embracing Paul. His gaze lingers on your smile, and he raises his cup to his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly at the unfamiliar drink he's been offered. You want to ask, if they have coffee on Giedi Prime, but the question is forcefully swallowed down. You will not talk to this man. He will never know anything more than contempt from you. Curse your Mother's words, you'll fight this battle every day, on your own, if you have to. 

- My Daughter will show you around the training barracks after breakfast - Duke Leto announces, and you freeze with a cup of coffee half-way to your lips.

- Will I? - you ask, trying to control the edge in your voice. 

- Na-Baron has made inquires about a place to train - your Father explains, giving you a meaningful side eye - You'll accompany him. 

The coffee tastes like rot in your mouth, and you place your cup down with a note of finality. You won't look at him, you don't have to. That knowing smirk could be felt through the very particles flowing in the air, every single one laughing at your predicament. 

Despite your best efforts, the breakfast comes to an end, your family slowly rising to attend to their duties. Your Father, ever the cordial man, bids his farewells to the unwelcomed guest. Your Mother does the same, albeit sounding more honest. Paul lingers as long as Lady Jessica allows him, until he is forced to retreat by a slender hand tugging mercilessly on his elbow. A gesture both of you know intimately from your childhoods. 

Before you know it, you're left alone with the pale imitation of a man. He arises slowly from his seat, smoothly making his way towards you, each of his footsteps echoing in the dining room. 

- Shall we, my Lady? 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his offered hand, like a white spider living just outside of your vision. With a shudder, you slip out of your chair, trying very hard not to touch him, and failing immediately, when his broad chest nearly pushes you back into your seat. 

He smells nice, your brain betrays you, the scent bringing back images from your night terror, causing an involuntary shiver to run up your spine. With averted gaze, you turn to leave, ignoring his still extended hand. He follows you like a shadow, catching up to you in no time, as you slide through the corridors of the Palace. It's uncomfortable, to say the least, walking with him behind your back. His eyes bear into you, a prickly feeling at the base of your neck making you roll your shoulders.

It follows you, as he follows, right to the very destination. All in blessed silence, a small miracle to save this already dreadful morning.

The men, launging about at the training barracks freeze in their spots, and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, when Duncan Idaho catches your eyes. His skin has a beautiful, warm tone, highlighted by the morning sun flowing into the room through the windows. You nod, he nods back, an unspoken understanding blooming between the two of you. There could be no suspicion of any closer bond, lest this engagement would be called off. A result, perhaps favorable to you personally, but your family would never live down the shame. And you would never jeopardize Paul's future, no matter how hollow yours looked.

- You have a warrior's body - your betrothed comments, as he inspects the blades laid out on a small table - Do you train here as well?

Small talk, you could do small talk. With a sigh, you tear your gaze away from Duncan, and turn to the Harkonnen, forcing something resembling a polite smile to bloom onto your features. 

- Yes, I do - you answer curtly, eyes falling onto elegant, white fingers, sliding over a shiny metal blade. 

- It is not a common practice here, is it? - he looks at you, eyes gliding over your stature - Women being trained to fight?

Suddenly very much aware of your body, you cross your arms on your chest, hugging yourself tightly. You don't miss the way his gaze seems to linger on the low neckline of your tunic, and with bitterness on your tongue you wonder, has this man ever felt ashamed. 

- Not common, but it does happen - your voice betrays your emotions, a sharp edge settling over your tone, causing the man to arch an eyebrow.

Finally, he settles onto a chosen blade, bringing it up to the light and with laser focus observing the way particles dance on the steel surface. Then, he looks back at you, catching you in the act of observing the prominent, lean muscles on his neck. You ignore the knowing smirk and will your blushing cheeks to suddenly become devoid of color.

They don't, of course, and you scurry to the side of the table, to fiddle with the rest of the weaponry. Your favorite training blade is there, and instinctually, your hand reaches for it. 

- Train with me.

The request catches you off guard, and you shoot him a questioning look, one he deflects with a nonchalant shrug. 

Your muscles flinch, as you drag your hand back from the blade. 

- It would hardly be appropriate - you counter, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your tunic.

To that, he tilts his head, light eyes studying you for a longer moment, until you truly feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. 

- And suddenly you're worried about what the court says? - he cuts you off, before you have the chance to ask, just what exactly does he mean by that - Perhaps you're too soft to fight me.

- I know what you're doing - you point an accusatory finger at his chest, and the man smiles, blackened teeth peaking between his full lips.

- And what am I doing? - it's hard to ignore the teasing timbre in his voice, and you swallow thickly.

- You're trying to get under my skin.

Shivering under the expected cruel glint in his eye, as another, most likely filthy innuendo purses his lips, you turn to him fully, a serious expression on your features.

- I've seen you fight, Na-Baron - his jaw tightens at the sound of your voice curling around his title - I know you're a force to be reckoned with, I'm not scared to admit that.

He straightens, regards you with furrowed brows for a longer second, until, yet again you start to fidget under his gaze.

- Perhaps then, you're scared you'll hurt me - the mere idea is so preposterous, your head snaps in his direction - If I had known, you liked me that much...

- That is entirely not true, and you know it - you deflect again, although annoyance begins to paint your voice.

Then, his hand shoots out, gripping your arm and pulling you closer. Air seems to thicken around you, as you look up at him, with surprise quickly morphing into outrage. His breath mingles with yours, and you can't seem to look away from his eyes, pupils nearly drowned in the overwhelming blue of his irises.

- Stop hiding, my viper. Fight me.

The command, spoken in a harsh whisper just shy of your lips, turns your insides into molasses. 

His taller form leans down to tower over yours, an intense expression settling over his sharp features. Close to excitement, much too close to desire, even closer to a murderous curiosity. Your throat feels entirely too dry, and before you can stop yourself, you swallow thickly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. His eyes snap almost immediately downwards, and your heart stops beating. You can't see anymore blue in his irises, only black. Darkness covers his eyes reflecting his thoughts, and you feel like you have to flee right now, before something terrible happens to you. 

So you do just that. Ripping yourself away from his closeness, you return to the table, hand finding your chosen blade without really looking. 

Another flash of black teeth, as the Na-Baron realizes what you're doing, and the both of you enable the shields surrounding your bodies. 

The gathered soldiers watch on, as you march towards the center of the room, determination filling every step to the brim. Duncan gives you a look, which you choose to ignore. You can't think about him now, not when you have your honor to defend against this Harkonnen monster of a man. 

Feyd Rautha rolls his shoulders, discards the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and once again you are stricken with his almost god-like physique. The blade looks like an extension of his hand, as he weighs it and slashes the air in front of him. Then, he fixes you with a challenging expression, as if he expects you to do the same, to try and best him at some shameless display.

You decide to keep your clothes on, blade held high, ready to strike. 

He jumps from one leg to another, and immediately an orchestra of alarm bells rings out in your brain. Should a man really be this excited at the prospect of fighting his future wife? Should you be this excited? Questions without answers, and before any of you make a move, another one absent-midedly floats to the surface. Just how much can you hurt each other, before the wedding is concluded? How much you'll inevitably hurt each other after?

The darkness he has brought on the ship with him must be contagious, because despite your better judgement, you smile. A sharp smirk, that makes your eyes look less like a human and more like a wild animal. And he drinks it all in, as he begins to circle you.

You'd never show him your back, never again. He's a tried and true predator, the only instinct he has, is a killer one. A fact you quickly get aquatinted with, as he unleashes a series of lightning fast strikes your way. 

Immediately you realize, that small show of cruelty he organized at your grandfather's theatre was nothing, compared to what he could truly do. And still, you suspect he's holding back, as you barely dodge a nasty stab, right under your ribs. Another one is blocked against your sheild, and before you have a chance to collect yourself, third one sends you back a couple of steps. 

He doesn't let you get away, with confident steps pushing you further and further out of the center of the training floor.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Duncan Idaho stand up from his place. Thinking back to your last training session, you shudder bitterly. "Never fight in anger" is easy to say, when you're not forced to marry, bed and sunsequently give children to the man you're fighting. 

Panting and sweating, you give Feyd Rautha your all, twirling in place, sliding on your feet. A different kind of choreography, which seems to work surprisingly well, with his almost animalistic force. Gurney taught you how to be powerful, how to land strikes which were as effective, as they were cunning. Duncan, on the other hand, taught you how to dance. So that's what you do.

Finally, you manage to grab at his free hand, locking your feet between his and bringing him closer to your blade. It stops just short of his artery, blocked by his dagger, the clash of metal reverberating through the halls. 

The smirk he gives you is beyond nasty, and forcefully, you push away from him, as if the very idea of skin to skin contact repulsed you. And it does, it truly does, especially now that adrenaline mixed with frustration boils in your head. 

- Again - you snarl his way, assuming your fighting stance.

- As my Lady commands - his voice has a natural growl to it, made even more prominent by the exertion of the fight, and he twists his body into a perversion of a curtsy.

This time you're the one to attack first, ignoring your menthor's words and relying on pure rage to guide your steps. A stab to his thigh, which he deflects with seemingly childish ease. Your tunic slips through his fingers, as you slide under his arm. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his blade, when he hides it into his belt. Confusion hits you suddenly. Was he giving up, why was he hiding his weapon? None of the questions get answered, as a foot curls itself around your ankle.

Your balance leaves you with a gasp of surprise, and soon, your back is on the floor, Feyd Rautha following closely behind. Your heated gaze meets his, as one hand wrenches the blade from your grasp and pins both your arms above your head. The other one supports his weight, as he hovers above you, light bleeding behind him in an unfitting image of a halo. 

Your chest heaves, sweat rolling down your collarbones, and the Harkonnen doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze follows a stray drop of salt, as it disappears between your breasts. 

- You fought well - he complements in a hushed tone, and you writhe desperately under his body.

The night terror rears its ugly head again, as you feel his tighs press onto your sides, almost as if he wants to shape your flesh into the imprint of his body.

- I think I prefer you like this - he whispers, face coming closer to the exposed column of your neck - You belong under me. 

That's what does it. Your face twists into an expression of equal parts disgust, and fury. You won't give him this victory, you'd rather die. Legs tangle themselves around his calves, and you use all your strength fueled by the burning need to fucking hurt him. 

The world spins, two bodies rolling on the floor, and suddenly you're on top of him, legs biting into his hip bones. While one hand supports your weight on his naked shoulder, the other finds the dagger hidden in his belt. The surprised gasp, which leaves his lips feels like music to your ears, and you don't even try to fight the awful smirk splitting your mouth.

The shield on his neck glows an angry red, as you press the tip of the blade down, right under his bobbing Adam's apple. He swallows, for just a second letting you see the mask of self confidence slip. He has quite long eyelashes, you notice, as his eyelids flutter, a low hum reverbating through his chest. Eyes that are neither blue nor completely black drink in the sight of you. The halo of your hair, the snarl on your lips, the curve of your waist, where one of his hands settle. 

Missing all of this, too enraptured by your own fury, you push the blade further down until it pricks his alabaster skin. He hisses through his blackened teeth and you want more, you want him to scream. A thin streak of red begins to flow down his neck, and God help you, it looks like art. 

His grip on your waist tightens, all five fingers digging into your flesh through the thin tunic. Feyd Rautha bares his teeth at you in a cruel smile, one that makes you question whether you're the one in control.

And then his hips roll upwards. 

A barely noticable movement, easily mistaken for a spasm of the muscles, but you know better. You can read it all from his expression, his pupils blown wide, the quickened breaths of air slipping past his lips. From the quickly hardening length pressing against your inner thigh. 

Your stomach flutters with a well known feeling, and that terrifies you more than any pain-motivated erection ever could. Because he sees it, he sees the beginning flames of desire taking root in your center, and the realization looks like ecstasy on his face. Humiliation washes through you, fills you completely. There is no awkward blush on your face, no. All you feel is white, freezing terror, as all your defences seem to crumble all at once.

Like a scared animal, you're off of him in a split-second, and he doesn't chase you, as you all but run from the training barracks. Doesn't have to, he already has everything he needs. 

[tojisbbg]

❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2

a/n: highly requested for pt. 2!! you ask and i shall deliver 😌

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

it was currently seven in the evening, the newlyweds bid the last couple of guests goodbye. throughout the whole event, mikey tried his very best to plaster on the most convincing smile he possibly could to mask the chaos going on inside him. 

there was never a second where you’ve left his mind, ghosting through every lane in his brain as he couldn’t focus on anything but you. he felt guilty, knowing that perhaps his marriage wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped for. 

“better invite us to the housewarming party, sano. your wife’s cookies are no joke.” pah nudged mikey, a small laugh leaving his chapped lips as he faintly nodded his head. mikey watched pah walking towards the door before suddenly stopping, watching as his friend bent down to fix the bottom of his wife’s dress. the hopeless boy couldn’t help but watch, observing the affection and love reciprocating between pah and his wife, before they both left together. 

in the back of his mind, the memory of you zipping up his jacket properly during the cold winter season, lending him your scarf and making sure that he was all warm and snuggled up was fresh in his mind. you always made sure that he never got sick and when he did, you would ditch everything in your agenda to make it your business to nurse him back to health. 

no one has ever cared for him like you have and mikey knew what he had to do. 

“honey?” the voice of his wife awakened him from his train of thoughts, turning his head to the side as he was met with a warm smile. god, he felt so guilty for what he has done and was about to do. 

“yeah?” he responded, waiting for her to ask.

“i was thinking that the two of us could have a small movie night when we get home.” she suggested, eyes twinkling with hope as mikey gulped harshly. 

home.

they bought a house together and planned to live there forever until time was up. but, he always wished that it was you instead. mikey couldn’t bare to look her in the eye, clearing his throat as he tried to think of an excuse. 

“it’s been a long day, you must be tired. i’ll drop you home and go over to ken-chin’s place since he suddenly left and isn’t answering my calls. get some rest, okay?” he lied straight through his lips, and his poor wife was too naive and quickly sympathized with it. 

“of course, i hope him and y/n are okay. let me know what happens, hm?” suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, making him freeze. 

it felt so wrong, like he was being suffocated. mikey didn’t like this one bit at all, it felt too new and unpleasant. he’s been with ___ for a couple years by now and these things were never an issue. yet, after your sudden confession, the regret of not coming clean to his feelings years back ate him alive. 

“hm, let’s go.” mikey gave her a smile, placing a hand on her back as he led her out of the church. 

the drive to his house was not very long, giving him enough time to quickly slip out of the annoying suit as he slipped on a pair of jeans and a flannel. he saw his wife sitting on the couch, a small bag of chips in her hands as she munched on the salty snack while watching a rom-com movie. she noticed him and gave him a wave, making mikey want to rip his hair out as he just wanted to tell her the truth. 

but, he wasn’t ready yet. 

he walked over to her and place a faint kiss on her forehead before looking down at her. 

“i’ll be back soon.” mikey assured, making her nod as she watched his figure walk out of the front door. 

the ride to the brothel was about thirty minutes, making mikey curse on why he bought a place that had to be so far. the urgency to see you grew stronger and stronger with every light and block he passed. mikey quickly parked his car after arriving in front of the brothel before rushing out to go up to the floor where you and draken lived on. 

the elevator dinged and he stepped off, now standing in front of your door. his breathing became irregular, anxiety swallowing him up whole. all the possibilities of you hating him and banishing him away from your life scared him to death. a shaky fist came up to the wooden door, knocking twice. 

the door opened, revealing his tall best friend, staring down at him with a death stare that made chills run down his spine. 

“ke-”

“what do you want?” draken brashly cut him off, making mikey’s lips agape as this sudden behavior from his right-hand man was completely unexpected. surely he knows that you might’ve ranted to draken about whatever happened between you two, but usually draken doesn’t like to get involved in neither your or mikey’s personal life. 

“i just came to see y/n and talk with her, five minutes is all i’m asking for.” mikey chewed on his lower lip, eyes sternly on his shoes as he couldn’t bare to see his friend look at him with such hate-filled eyes. draken bitterly laughed, making mikey wince in pain as he knew that this was going to be bad.

“oh, so now you wanna see her, huh? you disappeared for nine fucking years, sano. nine damn years! you didn’t care about my little sister at all, whether she was alive or dead. did she tell you that she fell sick from not eating because she was looking for you? how she couldn’t sleep a single night in peace ‘cause she thought you were dead? of course not, you were too busy being blind and fucking some other bitch.” draken yelled through gritted teeth, making mikey look up at him with anger. 

“mind your fucking words, don’t call ___ a bitch.” the shorter spat out, tension growing between the both. 

“how rude of me, i forgot that you were a gentleman. well then, goodnight.” draken scoffed, attempting to close the door before a foot lodged into the remaining space. 

“please, all i’m asking for is five minutes.” mikey begged, tears welling in his eyes. 

“you had nine years to talk to her, but you didn’t. there is no five minutes, mikey.” the taller spoke, voice know cracking as mikey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“w-what do you mean? where’s y/n? don’t just stay quiet, answer me!” he grabbed onto draken’s arms, only to have it harshly ripped away from his grasp. 

“she’s dead! y/n is dead, my sister is gone.” the tears that draken has been holding on since mikey has arrived came flooding down, as he glared at his best friend with bitterness. 

the words kept on repeating inside of mikey’s mind, taunting him as it felt like time has stopped. for some reason, it felt as if his body turned into stone, he couldn’t move. suddenly, a wave of rage began to build up, making him grit his teeth before balling his fists. anger clouded his sight as all he saw was red, eyes darkening.

“you piece of shit!” mikey bellowed, lunging towards draken before landing a hard punch on his jaw. remi screamed in horror, panicking as she saw both men breaking out into a violent fight. 

“you knew about her tumor! you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me?! what kind of a fucking friend are you, traitorous jackass!” mikey continued to throw endless amounts of punches on draken’s face, receiving some back as well, but no matter how hard draken hit, he felt numb. 

“stop!” remi yelled, before throwing her shoe at mikey’s head, making him wince at the stinging pain the heel left. draken was on the ground, breathing heavily as he shoved the smaller figure on top of him to the side. 

“do you think that beating each other to death will bring y/n back? do you think she’ll be happy? huh?!” the girl sobbed, landing a hard slap on each of their cheeks as both draken and mikey looked down at the floor in shame. 

“her death was inevitable, that tumor was a ticking bomb. she’s finally free from those painful chemo sessions, headaches, vomiting and seizure episodes. she won’t suffer anymore.” remi sadly smiled, body trembling as draken pulled her into his chest. 

“i deserved to know, she was my other half.” mikey lowly spoke, tears pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision. 

“you didn’t deserve shit, sano. all y/n has ever done is love you with all her heart. you were her world, everything revolved around you. yet, you failed to notice that. what did you do instead? you fucking disappeared without a word. oh and even better, you found some chick too. you never cared about my baby sister, you didn’t! so stop acting like the victim here.” draken sneered, meeting mikey’s teary eyes as he grew quiet.

“i was trying to protect her, i was afraid that my presence in her life would do more harm than good. i was scared that one day something bad would’ve happened to her because it involved something to do with me. i couldn’t risk it, that why i even disbanded toman.” mikey explained, breaking out into a painful cry as his heart bled. 

“did you even love her?” draken questioned, watching the man in front of him choke on tears. 

“god, i loved her to the moon and back! she was all that i could think of every second that i breathed. if i knew sooner, then i would’ve never left. i would’ve never been a coward, i’d stay by her side to protect her. i could’ve had more time!” mikey yelled in agony, making draken grab a hold of him. 

“it would’ve never been enough! y/n didn’t tell you because she knew that it would’ve destroyed you.” draken hugged him, patting his back as remi joined them both as well. 

after a few minutes, draken decided to take remi outside for a small walk, feeling like they needed some fresh air. this gave mikey some time to go see you. he hesitated for a bit, not being able to face you even though you were long gone. but, he eventually mustered up the courage and opened your door. 

there, you laid on the bed like a pretty flower, your skin pale as snow due to the life in you being drained out. 

“i know you told me that you didn’t wanna see me again, but i missed you. i don’t wanna let you go, y/n. i can’t live without my other half, i love you so much.” he cried, stroking your cold face as his tears fell on your cheek. 

if only he knew, he would’ve cherished you longer. 

---

mikey walked inside his house, eyes swollen from crying in the car, nearly getting into an accident twice from his blurred vision. 

he saw his wife with a teary face, her friend my her side rubbing her back. the both of them noticed his appearence, and instead of a look of relief, the both of them looked angry. 

mikey stood in his place, watching his wife rise from her spot and walking towards him before landing a harsh slap on his face. 

“you fucking cheater! you don’t love me, i was your escape route. you love y/n, don’t you?” she asked, voice becoming shaky as she looked at mikey through glossy eyes. 

mikey remained quiet, and there she got her answer. 

“i knew it, i knew it! yet i still had some trust and hope within you that my guts were wrong. that maybe those little gestures you both gave each other was nothing but platonic. i was wrong, you and that two-faced bitch lied to me!” she screamed in agony. 

“watch you mouth! you don’t get to call her that, you heard me? everything that she has ever done for anyone was nothing but a selfless act. you don’t know her.” mikey said through gritted teeth, making his wife scoff. 

“yeah? well, you can now go back to her and continue to kiss her mighty ass ‘cause i want a divorce.” she sternly said, crossing her arms over her chest before walking to the door with her friend. 

“i’ll get you the papers by next week.” mikey bluntly said, not even trying to fight or defend himself. he was tired and he didn’t want to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life knowing that his heart belonged to you and only you. 

“why? i wish to cut my ties with you as soon as possible.” she said with disgust laced in her tone. 

“because i have to attend y/n’s funeral.” mikey deadpanned, making his wife’s mouth gape open. 

“huh, guess karma is real. that’s what you get, sano.” his wife’s best friend taunted, making his now ex-wife giggle. 

“i’ll come tomorrow to get my stuff. i can’t stand to stay here for another minute. also, i hope that two-faced bitch burns in hell.” she cockily said before heading out the door, slamming it shut. 

---

it’s been about a month since you’ve died and mikey hasn’t visited your grave yet. he was there for your funeral, seeing how draken never requested the morgue people to not take off the promise ring you both have on your pinky finger. but, he didn’t stay for the burial. 

mikey sat on the bench by the river, sighing as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier. he opened the lid, plucking one of them out before placing it on his lips. as he brought his lighter closer to the end of the cigarette, your voice echoed in his mind. 

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?”

he took it out, placing it back in the package. mikey stood up, walking towards the garbage can before throwing out the pack of cigarettes. 

mikey decided that it was time to see you.

he reached your grave as you were buried in the nearest cemetary, easy for your sibling to visit you on the weekends. mikey sat in front of your tombstone, placing the cup of chocolate pudding on the ground. 

“felt like you wanted some.” he smiled, opening up his own as he took a scoop of the sweet treat in his mouth. 

“how did i do it, y/n? how did i live all those years without you? now that you’re gone, i feel suffocated. it feels like i’m falling in this bottomless pit with no one to save me.” mikey’s voice broke, tears stinging his vision as he bit his lips to conceal a choked out cry that itched to leave his throat. 

“you just have to find happiness again, mikey.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, the familiarity of the tone set chills all over his body. he turned around, eyes widening in shock as he couldn’t believe it. 

“y/n?” he called out, but it was barely a whisper. mikey knew that you were dead, and that perhaps he was going insane, but he didn’t care. 

you smiled at him, taking a seat in front of him as you grabbed the chocolate pudding he brought for you. 

“are you real?” mikey finally mustered up the courage to ask, making you chuckle as you grabbed his hand. your flesh was cold, making him intertwine his fingers with yours in an attempt to give you some of his warmth. 

“it’s time to let me go, mikey. you have to live, travel, start a family and just be happy; without me.” your eyes held so much sadness and depth, it no longer twinkled with hope like before, making his heart ache. 

“i can’t. i need you by my side, y/n. please, come back.” he begged, shaky hands coming up to cup your face. tears began to stream down his face as he softly cried, making you sigh as you pulled him in a hug. 

“do you remember our first meeting?” you asked, gently stroking his hair as he nodded. 

“i told you, there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. that’s what i want, mikey.” you spoke, making him look at you with glossy eyes. 

“if only i knew sooner, i would’ve done things so much more differently.” mikey sniffled, making you shake your head in disagreement. 

“that’s why i didn’t tell you. my condition would’ve consumed you and i didn’t want that. i didn’t die in vain, i died knowing that i had a loving family and person who loved me for who i am. i’m happy, mikey and it’s time that you find that happiness too.” you assured, kissing his forehead as small drops of rain began to fall. 

“i envisioned a happy life with you, with one or maybe two little kids running around our house. ken-chin and remi visiting us on christmas, road trips and so much more. i’ll wanted to marry you, y/n! you’re the only girl that i have ever loved, the one my heart belongs to.” mikey broke down, trembling as the rain drenched him. you couldn’t help but let a few of your own tears fall, watching the man that you love crumble to pieces. 

“then marry me, sano.” you looked at him with adoring eyes, making him shoot you a confused look. you took off the promise ring on your pinkie before handing it to him. he took off his as he placed it in your palms, eyes never leaving yours. 

he slid on the ring on your ring finger as you did the same to him. mikey gave you a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“god, i love you so much.” mikey mumbled under his breath, leaning in for a kiss. you accepted it, and for some reason, your lips felt warm and soft. 

“i love you too, which is why i need you to live for me. i’ll always be here with you mikey, somewhere safe and sound.” you placed a hand over his heart, making him cry harder as he nodded. 

“okay. i’ll try, for you.” he offered you a broken smile, kissing your hands as you hummed. 

“goodbye, mikey.” you said, and it made his heart drop. 

“wait! don’t leave just yet! ple-”

but it was too late because now it was just him who sat alone by your grave. mikey saw that the pudding he got for you was gone, making him believe that the vision or ghost of you was in fact real. 

you came back to him, even if it was for a moment. 

mikey knew that he had to give his life a chance, a chance that you never got. which is why he promised to live to the fullest for you. 

---

big flashing lights nearly blinded the famous race car driver as he cleared his throat, waiting for the interviewer to bombard him with questions. 

“mr. sano! what a pleasure to have you here, thank you for joining us today.” the woman politely said, making mikey give her a small smile. 

“the pleasure’s all mine, thank you for having me.” mikey smoothly replied, making the crowd swoon. for a man that was pushing his mid-thirties, mikey looked amazing, without a doubt. his voice was crisp and honey-like, making it hard for people to resist him. 

not to mention the generous heart he has. 

the interview was pretty long, consisting of questions that made mikey talk about his childhood, goals and inspirations. until the burning question hit him like a truck. 

“mr. sano, you’ve got quite a fanbase.” the interviewer started off, being cut off by the loud squeals of mikey’s fangirls, making him chuckle. 

“we all want to know, are you single?” the question pondered in his head, but mikey knew the answer and didn’t hesitate. 

“i’m not, actually.” he revealed, making people gasp and scream from shock. 

“who’s the lucky girl if i may ask?” the interviewer continued to ask for further information. mikey smiled, thinking about the only woman that will ever own his heart. 

“my best friend, y/n. she’s my wife who unfortunately passed away a few years ago due to an inoperable brain tumor. she’s the love of my life and i miss her every day. i funded the research foundation for inoperable brain tumors in memory of her. she’s the biggest inspiration in my life and i hope she’s happy when she watches over me.” mikey spoke into the mic, making the crowd briefly go silent before a loud wave of claps echoed through the room. 

“you’re a great man, mr. sano, i’m sure your wife is very proud of you. she sounds like an amazing woman.” the interviewer offered a consoling smile. 

“she was. y/n was brilliant, she was smart and talented in almost every aspect. she’s my other half, which is why it made it hard for me to learn how to live without her after she passed away. but, she always told me how there was too much love in this world and i shouldn’t be consumed by grief. so, i picked myself back up and started something to give other people hope for a better tomorrow.” mikey explained, seeing how the audience was in tears from his heart-touching words. 

for a breif moment, mikey saw you amongst the crowd. his eyes widened, seeing you in a beautiful cherry sundress, similar to the one you wear every summer in high school. you were clapping and you blew him a kiss, to which he caught as his eyes teared. 

mikey knew that he would never stop falling in love with you and that he would let you break his heart over and over again. 

because his heart belong to you and only you. 

[verysium]

『03』 ブルーロック: blue lock recs

冴糸師: sae itoshi

lost to time by @syriiina

nostalgia. it’s delicate but potent. “nostalgia” literally means “the pain from an old wound” in greek. it’s the twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone – a feeling of a place where we ache to go again. but in sae’s case, it’s the painful ache in his chest to return to someone that’s already been buried by the sands of the past; the yearning for someone that’s already been lost to time. notes: this fic emotionally destroyed me; heavy angst paired with audio recordings; basically the most gut-wrenching combination ever; smooth chronological plot development; encapsulates the dichotomous pain and pleasure of love; i felt like my heart was healing and hurting at the same time

merry go round by @syriiina

what if you were given another chance? another chance to say all the things you’ve wanted to say, cry all the tears you couldn’t and hear the voice of the person you’ve cherished all your life? sae itoshi was given that chance. just one more chance for your birthday that he’ll never get to spend with you. just another chance at goodbye. notes: at this point this author needs to pay for my therapy; examining the process of grief; almost dreamy and hallucination-inducing atmosphere; idea of letting go; new beginnings; childhood nostalgia; sequel to first fic

to my first love / to my last love by @by-moonflower

when you agreed to date itoshi sae in mid-october of 1993, you never imagined he'd be your first love—whose presence would continue to linger in your life, hauntingly, even if a year, two, or ten came to pass. notes: high school sweethearts to exes to lovers again; examines insecurities of girlhood; idea of love being a process of trying and trying again; reader discovers herself before she discovers others; happy ending; pre-2000s nostalgia; montage/vignette style

come out and haunt me by @alaboadoa

sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over. notes: incredibly well-written study of sae’s character especially as a pre-teen; honestly would've never expected a ghost AU; this author has such a beautiful mind; finding commonality in exclusion and lack of belonging; a unique rendition of right person, wrong time; loving someone but still not being enough

hungry hearts by @sanzu-sanzu-sanzu

You are Itoshi Sae’s Manager. Fielder of dumb reporter questions and keeper of his schedule. Among many others. notes: their dynamic reminds me of miguel and lyla from the spiderverse or that one kdrama about secretary kim; sae denying that he is in love yet noticing every little detail about reader; their witty banter is so funny; gradual realization of feelings; honestly i think this is how canon sae would fall in love

find love by @tenjiiku

“Mama?” “Yes, little bunny?” You call her by such a name because when she was a toddler she had somewhat of an obsession with playing leap frog with others. The original pet name had been little frog, but it had caused a rather large tantrum, so you never used such a term with her. Her father suggested it. It was the only thing he made that you still used. notes: i don't even need a rec to tell you how good this is; nuanced portrayal of divorce; honestly hit too close to home; idea of marriage not being endgame; slight hint of second-chance romance; love that never fades; sae being emotionally oblivious; for the hopeless romantics

the hanshin expressway by @tenjiiku

He remembers how sad you had looked — gentle, sweet and kindhearted you. And he remembers feeling the urge to hold you. Because it was the first time he voluntarily felt such a gripping emotion. He recalls the way your nimble fingers trembled around your second mug of jasmine tea, and he looks back on the way you turned to him with a forced smile, as if it was the easiest thing to do — to bear yourself and all of your little idiosyncrasies in front of him, no walls, no windows. Just you and him. You, reprimanded for your selfless displays of kindness. Him, admonished for his lack of expressing his. It was hard not to let himself fall into you. notes: literally even the premise of this fic is not for the weak; amnesia tropes are the death of me; prose is so tender and beautiful; sae being the one who now teaches the reader how to love; role reversal; reliving grief; idea of being unable to equate the past and present versions of the person you love; people change and you are helpless to stop it; being unable to return to what once was

rezkinoff / prelude by @tenjiiku

07.01. It is the first day of my break. I am going to journal both my fitness levels and caloric intake because my nutritionist has told me to. I will also note a daily observation so as to look back on my time with certainty that I have spent it properly and because you have told me to. Today’s observation: the heels of my feet are growing calluses and I found a single strand of white hair, still on my head. I need better shoes and hair dye. Perhaps something is in the water. — Itoshi. S notes: one of the most authentic portrayals of sae’s character; sae being emotionally inept but slowly learning; aging but as a graceful process; daily observations of life; the epistolary style makes it a smooth reading experience; ambiguous enough for interpretation

us, again by @ode2rin

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again. notes: one of the best second-chance romance fics out there; i still think about this fic at night; just the right balance of hurt and comfort; sae and reader both messing it up and finding each other again; dilemma of both loving and hating a person; has a coffee shop scene and a dramatic airport reunion so what is there not to like

scraps by @itoshiexx

you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left. notes: short but packs the most brutal emotional punch at the end; idea of love not being enough; sae pushing reader away; miscommunication; hurt people hurt people; giving up on someone you love most; falling out of love

conversations by @saerins

he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail. notes: i was having a good day until i read this and started violently sobbing; honestly it's a pretty accurate reflection of fame and the troubles it brings for both you and sae; the voicemails crushed something within me; i was grieving for a relationship that never existed; please read when you want a good cry; thank god for the alternate ending here

do stars return? by @hanyjar

your childhood friend leaves, and you question if he’ll ever come back. notes: the way that i ate this shit up with no crumbs. sae itoshi and star metaphors go hand in hand. picture this: you and sae grow up and then he leaves you and then he comes back again. now amplify that and add childhood angst and a sprinkle of poetic language. you're welcome.

凛糸師: rin itoshi

the first snow by @tenjiiku

It’d take him 3 lonely nights for Rin to admit to himself he wanted to see you again. He wonders if he torments you as much as you do him. notes: two-shot that changed the trajectory of my life; this author absolutely nails the slice of life genre every single time; finding beauty in the mundane; realistic depictions of modern love; somewhat slow-burn; dialogue and internal conscience are beautifully written

riptide by @misssleepless12

Concerned with how things were left after U-20, Isagi goes to visit Rin before the end of break. They address it. Sort of. notes: not necessarily a rinsagi shipper but this fic has a stunningly accurate portrayal of MLM romance; no sense of false idealism or over-romanticization; rin and isagi’s natural dynamic is perfectly captured; strong imagery and cultural setting of kamakura; rin’s sarcasm is on point

カイザ: michael kaiser

five dates and a proposal by @by-moonflower

all it takes is five dates for kaiser to fall in love with you and you in him, much to your surprise. notes: this fic actually made me believe in love; strong female character; fear of love and gradual opening up; basically what it feels like to fall in love with someone you never thought you’d actually love; realistic depiction of insecurities

color me blue by @saekkas

in which you need to wrestle your boyfriend, michael kaiser, out of his bed to fulfill a promise: re-dye his hair. notes: domestic fluff; michael being childishly cute; imperfections as perfections; heart-warming snapshot of established couple life; never fails to make me smile when i reread it

[lanitalay]

At sea pt. 2

Rhysand x reader

a/n: I am terrible at naming fics lol

word count:1.4k warnings: none

Part 1

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

You can’t control your face as your eyes widen and your mouth gapes at the news. 

“Oh…” is all you managed to say as an emptiness creeps up to your throat. He was your friend and nothing more. You had never so much as pecked the High Lord. There was no reason for such a reaction from you. It should not have shocked you, either. He would have had to marry eventually and the renegade daughter of an unstable sailor would not do anything to strengthen the court. “She accepted the proposal?” 

“Beron did”

That was another thing to consider. The High Lord of Autumn was well known for his cruelty. You could only imagine the life his only daughter had lived so far. Marrying Rhysand would be a mercy. It would grant her his protection, give her an escape from her rotten father. So being upset by the news was entirely selfish. You could not protest.  It would take every single one of your efforts to move on. But for the sake of the war, for the sake of maintaining peace amongst the courts and for helping a helpless female you would grit your teeth and accept that the attraction you felt to the male standing before you was hopeless.

“Congratulations are in order then, High Lord” you say with whatever smile you could muster. 

“I-” he begins but stops, looking away from you. His eyes remain on the drawings on the book in front of you and the air feels heavy with something bigger than your own sorrow. A few heartbeats later he returns his gaze to yours and offers you a solemn grin “thank you”. 

Weeks pass by as you catalog each new finding from your travels. Paula, your head researcher, was happy with the outcome of the expedition but that only meant more work for you as she asked you to write a meticulous article for each sample being cataloged. By the end of the day your hands were cramped and your writing was barely legible. The exhaustion was also mental, but that was more than welcome because in a few short days your High Lord would be marrying a princess. You were grateful for the fatigue as you reached your bed and collapsed into a dreamless sleep night after night. 

“All I’m saying is that you don’t have to marry her” Mor’s voice bounces off the walls of Rhysands study. 

“There is no other way, cousin. Ever since the situation with Eris the Autumn Court has refused diplomatic relations. We need their fire wielders and their footmen to stand a chance against Hybern” the blonde sighs, exasperated. They have had this discussion plenty of times before. 

“You could hold off the wedding until after the war. Once everything is settled you can break it off” 

“Beron made it clear his compliance is reliant on us getting married before the leaves begin to brown” 

“You don’t love her! She’s basically a child Rhysand and you’d be condemning the rest of your life to be spent with a female who is not right for you” he massaged his temples as he listened to the same arguments she had been making since the announcement. 

“As High Lord I need to make sacrifices for the well being of the court. This is the price I must pay” 

“Cousin, please” 

“Mor, I can’t keep having this conversation” she heaves a breath and leaves the room. The slam of the door rattling the painting and shelves on the walls

“He’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, and gods above, I’m Kier’s daughter” Mor rants while pacing the length of your sitting room. She had winnowed to your apartment a few moments ago and knocked so loud on the door that you thought Hybern was invading. 

“He has his reasons, Mor” you breathe, trying to keep your composure. Hiding your unhappiness about the matter was easier when you did not think or talk about it. 

“You should talk to him, he always listens to you more than he does the rest of us” you begin to shake your head in negation but she insists “you were the only one that got through to him when he wanted to get that awful face tattoo”. 

“I only said I didn’t like it” 

“Exactly! He cares about your opinion. Just… talk to him. He won’t listen to me” you give her a stern look and she replies “please, I know he’ll live to regret it”. 

How could you tell your friend, the day before his wedding, that what he is doing is a mistake? He was not doing it with thoughtless intent. More backup was needed and he found a way to get it, at his own expense. What would be a good argument to convince him otherwise? Would he tell you to mind your business? Would this wreck your friendship? 

Three knocks on a wooden door alert him to your presence.

“Come in” 

“Hi, Rhys,” you greet him. Smiling as you see his face for the first time in weeks. He looks up from the paper he is reading and his features soften as soon as he spots you. 

“Hi, y/n” you shift on your feet. He clears his throat and motions towards a chair in front of the desk “sit, please”. When you sit he adds “what can I help you with?” 

The golden buttons of your blouse feel cool against your fingers as you fiddle with them. “I have to talk to you… about tomorrow”.

His jaw clenches in a way you are not used to “what about tomorrow?” 

“Are you positive you want to go through with it?” 

“Y/n I have no interest in debating my nuptials. It will happen tomorrow and I hope to see you there. But if not, then it won’t make a difference”. Burning fills your chest. Stinging warns you there’s tears that are threatening to spill over. He had never spoken to you like that. Not once. 

“Are you sure it is the right thing to do?” You manage to ask. 

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to go through with it?”

“Mor believes you’ll regret it, in time” 

“I did not ask about what Mor thinks, she has made her opinions clear. I asked if there is a reason you don’t want me to marry the princess?” 

You can only think of one. Selfishly, you think he'd be happier with you, in the long run. But confessing you have a crush the day before his wedding is too pathetic. He is thinking of everyone but himself. You are only thinking about him and yourself. So you lower your gaze back to the golden buttons, and say “no, I’m only here because Mor asked me to talk to you but I see you are certain so I’ll tell her I tried”. You stand and leave, refusing to meet his stare as you feel it burning at your back. 

For the second night in a row you hear knocks at your door. This time they are even and heavy handed. You smell him before reaching the knob and your heart sputters as if recoiling from who stands outside

“What is it, Rhys?” You ask, voice meek against the High Lord towering over you. 

“Why don’t you want me to marry the princess?” 

“I already told you” he remains in the doorway, eyes grave, breath unsteady. 

“Answer me truthfully” you step aside and motion for him to come inside, no need for your neighbors to hear about this. He walks in and immediately turns on his heels, you slam your back on your closed door and look up at him. His heart is also uneven, you’re close enough to hear it. 

“Rhys…”

“Y/n…. please… if you think I’m making a mistake I need you to tell me why” it hurts to see him like this. He’s not resplendent as usual, his shoulders are slanted and his head hangs low. 

Low enough you can feel his breath mixing with your own. 

“I…” you think of the war, of Hybern, of the princess and of the chaos that will unfold if this wedding does not happen. But then you think of your friend, of the male you love spending the rest of his days with another female and, thinking of yourself, knowing it is illogical and self centered, finish saying “I want to be the one you marry”.

[laughingphoenixleader]

Hi I Fixed the Ahsoka Ending

The stormtrooper steps out of the ship, hands raised. It wasn’t like Hera has never seen that before. She raises her pistol, questions shooting through her mind. Why is this trooper alone, why did he hail them, and, most importantly, why is something about his walk so familiar? Suspense fills the air, and she can tell that everyone around her felt it, too. The last of the steam that has spilled out of the ship’s exhaust evaporates into the air, unlike that overwhelming sense of familiarity that’s flooding her heart. She braces herself for anything, setting her jaw. Had someone she’d once been close to become a stormtrooper? She runs through a list of names in her mind, nothing turning up any results. 

Who are you and why’re you here? Chopper asks, apparently done waiting in suspense. The trooper gives no answer, continuing to step forward. 

What, are you deaf or something? Are you, are you, are you? Chopper chatters impatiently. But then, instantaneously, his mood changes. Which isn’t really unheard of. Wait, Chopper mutters, starting to roll forward. Hera wonders if he’s picked up on the familiarity, too. He’s always been more perceptive than people give him credit for. Chopper heads straight for the trooper, his ever-squeaky wheels (no amount of oil can fix that issue, and Hera’s tried) filling the silence. 

Who are you? Chopper asks as he stops at the trooper’s feet. And it’s at that moment that Hera realizes something: her mom sense is tingling. 

It can’t be. 

Huh? Huh? Huh? Chopper barks, until the trooper slowly extends one gloved hand and gently places it on Chopper’s head. Then his head spins around in giddy joy, his beeps turning into little excited ones. No words attached to them, just exclamations of happiness.

And, given that he usually hates people, there are only six of them Chopper’s ever gotten excited to see. 

And Hera’s got a feeling she knows which one this is. 

Sure enough, the trooper reaches up to grasp his helmet, and, when he pulls it from his head, the face that looks earnestly back at Hera is one she’s missed dearly. 

He looks different now. Far from the boy he once was. Navy facial hair covers the lower part of his face, and his hair is longer and curlier than when she last saw it. It had never been curly before. Human hair never ceases to amaze her. 

But he’s still got that effervescent light about him. Especially when he smiles at her, looking a little nervous, but there’s excitement spilling from him, too. She can feel it, as surely as she felt that she knew him as soon as he stepped out of that ship. 

Hera doesn’t even realize she’s lowered her gun until her hand hits her thigh. Shock and joy are washing over her, wave after overwhelmingly powerful wave. 

And grief. Because, though it doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t make sense, somehow, he looks so much like Kanan. 

Though she already knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is her boy, a part of her, the part that had always remembered the worst case scenario, that Ezra might just never come home, wants to know for sure. Doesn’t dare to believe it. 

“Ezra?” she asks, dipping her head slightly, just making sure. Because she has to. 

He seems to be as overwhelmed as she is, struggling for a moment to find the words. “Hi, Hera,” he greets her, and at that moment, even the most hopeless parts of her know it’s him. Because it’s the voice of a man who speaks back to her, but it’s youthful and casual and tentative and Ezra. That little boy who had been so lonely, who had looked up at Kanan and Hera like they were the most amazing people in the world every time they gave him something or complimented him, who had added so much joy (and chaos) to their lives, who had grown so, so much and made them so, so proud…he’s grown up, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone. He’s standing right here in front of her, after five long years. 

He gives a little shrug, his eyes and expression brimming with joy, his smile bright. “I’m home.” 

He chuckles a little, the sound sending fondness shooting through her. 

Hera exhales shakily, eyes locked onto her boy, taking him in. He’s here and he’s real and if she wakes up, she’s suing the Force itself. She shakes her head a little, the feeling of her hopes finally coming to fruition freezing her in place, somehow. To be fair, it’s a lot to process. 

Ezra slowly begins to walk forward, and Hera stands there for a few more seconds, but then she breaks out into a run, meeting him in the middle. She wraps her arms around the lost boy, and he hugs her back willingly, chuckling joyously, making her own laughter come spilling out of her. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Ezra whispers, burying his face in her shoulder like a kid. Her kid. 

She holds him closer. “I could tell you the same thing,” she replies, chuckling a little, blinking as her vision blurs with tears brought on by years of the homesickness that was being without a member of her family. By the pain that came from having no idea whether the Spectres were down to four. By having so many look at her in pity when she reported on the results of the victory on Lothal. By the obvious skepticism in people’s eyes when she told them that Ezra was missing, not dead.

They’d been wrong. She and Sabine and Ahsoka and Chopper and Zeb had been right. Though, these days, even Zeb had become disheartened. Last time they’d talked, sad skepticism had tinged his expression, too. But not for long, because Ezra is home.

And a piece of her home has returned with him. 

“Welcome home, Ezra,” she tells him, her voice choked with tears. But so is the chuckle he replies with. 

“Glad to be back, Mom,” he tells her, and a new barrage of emotions hits her, fondness and affection and love causing tears to leak from her eyes. 

They stand there like that, just holding each other, this moment too special for any more words to be spoken. 

Then she pulls away, because her Lieutenant, along with about 20 other people, are watching, and it’s starting to get a bit awkward in here. 

She looks at him up close, and those blue eyes are just as brilliant and youthful and Ezra’s as ever. She places a hand on his cheek, laughing incredulously, and he grins brightly, leaning into her touch. 

“What took you so long?” she asks, amusement and teasing in her tone, wiping at her eyes with her other hand. She drops the other one from his face and puts it on his shoulder. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, shrugging sheepishly, but his smile only gets brighter. “I was kinda stuck, you know. Not really my fault.” 

“Fair enough,” she replies, chuckling a little. 

Ezra’s eyes light up, excitement overflowing from his voice. “Oh! I have to show you something!” 

Hera removes her hand from his shoulder to cross her arms expectantly, grinning. “Oh?” she asks playfully as he reaches for his belt, and then her eyes flick to the saber that rests on it. 

Her heart stops beating for a second. Because that saber looks heart-wrenchingly familiar. The hilt is one she’s never seen before, but the emitter is unmistakable. It’s Kanan’s. 

Hera’s breath hitches. Her gaze shifts to meet Ezra’s, shock filling her and her vision blurring again. “Is that…” she asks, her voice strangled. 

“It’s not his,” Ezra finishes, understanding in his eyes. “His was one of two,” he begins, wiping his eyes, too. “The droid that helped him build his lightsaber when he was a Padawan gave me the other. And he told me a little about him, too.” He unhooks the saber from his belt and places it in her hands, and she rubs her thumb over the hilt, the familiarity of it sends a lance of pain through her heart. 

“Huyang,” Hera realizes, smiling sadly, still stroking the saber, eyes glued to it. “Yeah, he’s told me some stories, too. When I needed them.” 

“Yeah?” Ezra asks, a vibrant mix of curiosity and excitement and sadness all sparking in his expression. 

“I’ll tell you all of them,” Hera assures him before he can ask, handing the saber back. Even though those stories would be hard to tell and talk about, he deserves to hear them. “Soon. After you tell me where Sabine and Ahsoka are.” 

That’s when smile fades from his face, and Hera’s stomach drops. Dread and panic slam into her. No. Not again. I can’t lose anyone else. 

“They’re where I was,” Ezra tells her, shame in his expression. Already blaming himself. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Hera interjects before he can finish, even as everything in her screams WHY at the Force with all its might. It’s already taken so much from me. Was all that really not enough? But she continues, focusing on her mission, which, right now, is reassuring her adopted son. “But I know that, whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault.”

“It was their choice,” Ezra admits, nodding. “Ahsoka was fighting that Elsbeth lady so that Sabine and I could escape, and Sabine couldn’t leave her.” Ezra swallows, sadness spilling from his eyes, gaze shifting to the floor. “She…she was returning the favor. Making her own sacrifice. And,” Ezra shakes his head, chuckling ironically, “as much as I hate that, I’m also really proud of her.” He looks up to meet her eyes. “You know what I mean?” 

Pain claws at her heart, but a corner of her mouth tilts up in response to his question. “Oh yeah,” she replies. “I happen to know exactly how that feels.”

Ezra chuckles, looking sheepish again. “Right. Sorry about that.” 

“You’re here now,” she assures him, placing a hand on his shoulder again. “That’s enough.” Sadness seeps into her again. “Though I’d rather have all of you here.” Sabine, the daughter she’d never had. And would probably never have. But Sabine had always been enough. Hera loves her witty humor, fiery courage, and stubborn kindness with all of her being. She’s someone you never forget after you meet her, and her absence is just as unforgettable. Ahsoka, who had become her best friend over the past few years. They’d exchanged many a secretive look during important meetings, whether because of inside jokes or exchanging wordless opinions. She’d been someone who Hera had bonded very deeply with over a relatively short period of time. Maybe it’s because both of them had left their people behind at a young age. Maybe it’s because they’ve both suffered great losses. Maybe it’s the understanding that warriors share that those who have never been on the battlefield can never understand. Whatever it is, it had made them click in a way that Hera hadn’t with anyone but the Spectres in a long time. 

She wonders how long it will be until she sees them again.  

“I can find them,” Ezra tells her, determination filling his voice, jolting her back to reality. “The Force will guide me, and I know that planet like the back of my hand. It’s practically a part of me now, so I know I can find it on a starmap.”

“I believe you, Ezra,” she tells him, letting her genuineness show through the look she gives him. Then something pops into her head, something she’s been wishing she could tell him this entire time. “And hey,” she begins, her voice quivering, just a little. “As much as I hated that sacrifice you made, I’m so proud of you.” His face lights up, and it melts her heart to know he still cares that much about her approval. 

“And Kanan would be, too,” she continues firmly, looking into her boy’s cobalt-hued eyes, which fill with grief and joy and a thousand emotions she doubts either of them can name. “He’d be so, so proud of you. You learned well, Ezra.” 

He’s lost for words, his hand unconsciously going to his saber and fidgeting with it. His expression grows heavy with pain, with all the emotions that come with losing someone you love so much. Hera wonders just how much he’s let himself grieve over the last few years. And she aims to help him in any way she can. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice and eyes weighted with how much what she said means to him. “I needed to hear that.” 

“I had a feeling,” Hera replies, smiling sadly. 

“You’re always right,” Ezra tells her, a bit of that unstoppable playfulness infusing his expression. 

He hugs her again, and not for the last time, either. 

@kanerallels @accidental-spice

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER ELEVEN: He's Not The Sun

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Claire puts one and two together, and she confronts Matt when he climbs through her window that night.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, Claire is a bit "mean" in this one, self-hatred, brief description of injury

Word Count: 3.2k

A/n: At first, I thought about writing Claire's POV, but I didn't like it, so I circled back to Matt. Be patient though, things are purposefully moving very slowly. We all love Matt, but Claire cares for Reader, so she is being overprotective (which we can't blame her for!). Just don't hate me for this, 'kay? (Also, I hope at least some of you get the references I put in this one).

Read Chapter 11: He's Not The Sun here on AO3

The wooden frame of the window creaks as he slides through the opening. 

Matt has been all over the city tonight. He tried to channel his anger and frustration into his fists and out into the world; he tried to make sense of the chaos that surrounds him everywhere he goes, but he didn’t get very far tonight. 

Bloody and bruised, he crawls home to the one person he knows won’t turn him down.

Something feels off tonight though. It isn’t the lack of hopelessness he has been experiencing ever since he heard your voice for the second time that day. That, as unusual as it is for him, doesn’t feel all that odd. He has embraced it. He likes it. Something else is in the air, and a looming sense of doom threatens to constrict his airway.

You’re a bad idea, a lapse in judgment, but no one consumes him more. When everything burns too brightly for him to breathe, you supply him with fresh oxygen. When he’s spiraling, your voice brings him back from the cliff's edge.

Matt is irrevocably obsessed with you. After that phone call—after you dared to ask him out again—he felt his chest fill with a new sense of hope. You gave him something to look forward to. Something good. Something pure.

The prospect of getting to know someone who seems to be a very guarded person is the most valuable. It means that you consider there to be a certain level of trust between the two of you. It may be dangerous, and acting on the feelings he keeps having may be the worst idea he has ever had, but Matt couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. 

Hell’s Kitchen has seemed a little less like a dead end tonight. His fists are bloody now, his ribs are bruised, and the old stitches on his chest have torn the first hour in, but the world isn’t ending. Usually it does whenever he fails. Not tonight though. He thinks of you tonight, and his chest gets a little lighter with each breath of fresh air he takes to calm himself.

He’s in good spirits when he climbs through Claire’s window, but that is where it ends.

Matt enters, and he instantly can no longer shake the feeling that something is, indeed, very wrong. 

Claire has been pacing. The echo of missed calls and text messages hangs in the air. And when he takes a deep breath in, the lingering scent hits him like a truck.

Sliding the mask off his face, he tilts his head.

“How bad is it?” Claire asks from the doorway to the kitchen. 

The guilt drips from her tongue, but it has nothing to do with him. Anger and worry spike her blood pressure; she can’t fool him, no matter how hard she tries. 

“Someone was here,” he deflects. 

“Can’t be that bad if your voodoo senses still work.”

“Just a bruised rib. I, uh, popped my stitches.” Matt takes a step forward, hissing. “I told you not to tell anyone where you are.”

On any other day, in any other case, he would have lectured her, but his voice lacks power this time.  

Matt wants to protect his identity—needs to—but he can’t even keep Claire safe. She didn’t have to pull him out of that dumpster, but he was the one who told her he would be coming back. He’s burning everything and everyone around him to the ground like an old church at first contact with a tipped-over candle. 

He’s unable to stop. He wants to be a savior; protecting the city, protecting his family, and protecting everyone else. Matt wants to be a hero, as much as he claims otherwise. To him, that is the purpose God gave him. 

He grew up believing he was nothing but a soldier. Stick taught him that. Then, he left, and Matt eventually gave up hope. He was just a child then. A little boy, lost and alone. The mindset Stick forced onto him stayed, and it is a resilient bastard. It’s like a parasite that feeds off of him and refuses to leave. 

He has no idea what to believe in anymore. The one person willing to take him under his wing walked out on him years ago, and he has accepted that it’s all he will ever be good for.

Experiencing all the injustice in the world in every sense but his eyes have given him no other choice but to leave the path of lawfulness and take a different turn—a turn he is now facing the repercussions for at a very dead end. 

You’re getting close to him, and that means you’re inevitably in the line of fire too, just like everyone else Matt holds dear—but he never holds them close enough to allow himself to get hurt. The thought of you getting hurt remains to kill him like a dangerous toxin in his bloodstream. 

Your scent is glued to the walls of the apartment, and Matt is roughly brought back to reality. The love-sick haze he had been in all night dissipates.

Catching himself on the back of the chair she keeps next to the couch, he groans. His side screams in protest. He’s bleeding; he can smell the copper in the air, mixing with Claire’s sweat and her previously shed tears that are still thick in the atmosphere. And perhaps it is your tears, too. 

You.

Olivia Clarke. He truly does believe there is more to it, and that something else is going on, but too many thoughts crowd his mind at once, and he can only think about one. 

He imagines her standing with crossed arms in front of him, her stance wide and her eyes empty, wiped clean by the storm of her emotions. The fire begins to burn a little brighter, swallowing her whole. All he can think about is the fact that you have been here. Neither Matt nor Claire can deny that. 

“Who did you meet?” he asks, his voice low and rough as he takes another unsteady step forward.

“You tell me, Mike,” she counters. “Or should I call you Matt?”

The blood freezes in his veins. “How did you—”

But Claire cuts him off. “I was hoping to be wrong.” She shakes her head, and under her breath, she whispers to herself, “She was so happy. God, why does this always happen?”

The alarms are blaring at full volume in his head. Matt bares his teeth. “Who are you talking about, Claire? Who told you–” he grunts.

She knows. 

“Who told you my name?” he asks. 

“I hate being right sometimes. You wanna know who was here?” Claire pauses. “I have a friend who I happen to work with. You may know her,” she says. “Olivia Clarke? Yeah. She’s the one you’ve been lying to about who you are behind all of—” she points him up and down, “This. A blind, masked vigilante who likes to get himself on Russian ganbangers’ bad side.”

His face falls. Hearing it out loud puts things into perspective. Hearing it out loud makes it real. 

Your scent fills his nose again. Your heartbeat pounds in his ear, a very vivid memory of this afternoon, and your voice echoes.

“Fuck!” he curses. “It’s not—” he was going to say that it isn’t what it looks or sounds like, but that would be the most unbelievable lie. “It’s not like that,” he says. 

“Then what is it like? Tell me, Matt—if that’s even your real name.”

“I… okay, listen. We bumped into each other at the hospital the other night and hit it off. I didn’t know—” His face contorts.

“Didn’t know she had feelings?”

Claire breeches the distance between them. She glides her fingers along his clothed torso, lifting his shirt to see the damage for herself. The skin is slick with his blood, the stitches long gone. 

Her usually so calculated movements are a lot more disoriented tonight. She’s tense, shaking. 

Matt sucks in a sharp breath when she starts working on cleaning the wound with a cotton swab from her first-aid kit. “No,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t know you two knew each other. Let alone that you were friends. If I had, I wouldn’t have…” he trails off. No matter what he says, it will only prove her right that he is, in fact, an asshole. 

“What did you think?” Claire sneers. “You tell me to turn my whole life around while you act like nothing’s wrong during the day, flirting your way through Hell’s Kitchen and landing on someone who works at the same hospital as me? She’s my best friend!”

“We had coffee. That’s all.”

“Don’t lie to me. You gave her your number twice, and you asked her out. She came to me, panicking because you were her first date in years, and I gave her advice like the idiot I am.” She scoffs. “Don’t act like it was just coffee because if it had been, you wouldn’t have said yes to dinner when she asked you.”

Claire pours the disinfectant directly onto the cut, and he howls in the back of his throat. “Sorry,” she says, but it lacks sincerity. “I couldn’t even answer her texts because I feel like I’m complicit in lying, even though I never signed up for this.”

Matt adjusts in his seat. The medicinal alcohol burns through his bloodstream. 

She sticks three butterfly bandages over the cut, one after the other. “To think I told her you were a good guy because I was hoping someone had finally come around for her who wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I would never hurt her,” he answers without missing a beat.

“Then why did she tell me about how she met this handsome lawyer, but not that he runs around in spandex at night, throwing fists at bad guys?”

“Because…I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t.” Taking a deep breath, his eyes stop darting around. He wraps his hand around her wrist, stopping her desperate attempt to patch him up. 

Right now, Claire hates him. She’s furious with him and worried about you, and she doesn’t quite know where to with herself, but she also can’t let it be. Matt’s hurt; after saving his life, she feels responsible for making sure he’s okay. Her movements are muscle memory, but he can’t focus, not like this. 

“You see the situation you’re in, Claire.” Her pulse quickens at the mention of her name. “If I tell her,” he explains, “she’ll be in danger, and I can’t… She’s too good for that. And so are you, but you chose to pull me out of that dumpster.”

“Don’t act like it’s my fault for not wanting to let you bleed out,” she claps back. 

He tightens his grip, urging her not to slip away. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh, I know what you meant. And I agree, Liv’s too good for you.”

The second she has finished bandaging his wound, she breaks free from his grasp and steps away. Being close to him seems to hurt her. He can hear it in the way she breathes, brushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead. Her temples must be pounding. 

Matt lowers his shirt again, sighing. “She has something about her. The way she talks, the way she carries herself, I just… she draws me in. And she’s good to me.”

A million reasons why he can’t stay away from you, but he can’t voice any of them in the way he wants to. The words just won’t come.

Claire wipes her hands on a towel nearby. “She doesn’t exist to make you feel better,” she says. “She doesn’t exist to make anyone feel better. She thinks she does, but she isn’t. I thought you, out of all people, would understand that.”

No one exists for the sake of another person.

“I know she’s had a bad childhood,” he says.

“It’s not just about her bad childhood. It’s everything. She deserves better.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I’m aware that I’m bad for her? That everything I do has a tendency to backfire on the people I care about?”

She avoids looking at his face entirely. “I want to believe you, but I can’t,” she says.

“Claire—”

She shakes her head. “You need to cancel that dinner.”

The words take a very long moment to register. “You want me to break her heart?” he asks.

Matt imagines that—hurting you, breaking your heart, and never seeing you again—and it crushes him. Over his dead body, that is what he thought when you answered the phone earlier that evening. Now, Claire is begging him to kill himself so that you can be free of him. She finally sees him through the same mirror he views himself through, and it is terrifyingly isolating.

The floorboards creak under the weight of her steps as she begins to pace. “I don’t know,” she admits. “Maybe? Yes? All I know is that you can’t see her again.”

The wave that comes at him threatens to pull him under. She met the Devil first, but he was so broken then that a glimpse of Matt was already peeking through. He wants to disappear.

Claire’s view of the world has always been sober, but now that he is in the spotlight of it all, he wishes he would have never come to her again. He was alone, and she was there, but it should not have happened.

Subconsciously, he matches her labored breathing. “I get you, Mi—Matt,” she murmurs. “I do. And I keep telling myself it’s twisted, but I can’t help it. You’re hurt, and I know how to take care of that. God knows I shouldn’t have got involved with you. I don’t regret it. I’m not trying to make you feel worse than you already do, but Liv’s safety is something I can’t risk. I won’t. Endless devotion is the only way she knows how to love. And if you go out with her—if you make her fall for you—she will get herself killed.”

You. Dead. The combination tastes sour. No amount of bleach could remove the blurry imagination of you, dying because of him. His chest tingles, a thousand lightning bolts at once. If he goes along with it, he fears her words might become real. But who’s to say they won’t either way? The fear settles into his bones like a chronic ache.

Matt gets up. His knees buckle, but he tries to stand strong. The question is, who is he trying to fool? Claire knows better, and he can’t even believe himself anymore. It’s pointless. 

“I know you care about her, but after the Russians are taken care of—” he begins.

Claire raises her hand. The wind brushes across his cheek, stopping him in his tracks. “Doesn’t matter,” she says. “You won’t stop.”

“I…” he sighs. “You know I can’t. Not when I have to listen to the law fail every damn night. This city needs me in that mask.”

“I’m not telling you to stop. I know you’ve made up your mind, and that’s your choice, but Liv can’t be dragged into this. If it’s not the Russians, it will be something or someone else trying to get a piece of you, and they will drag those close to you down with you.” Claire crosses her arms again. “We both know I’m right,” she says. 

“You’re asking me to break her heart. That’s not fair,” the sentence hangs in the air, a helpless breath on his lips as he tries to reach for a way out of this hell. 

Her fingers dig into her biceps. “Can you promise that she won’t get hurt?”

He opens his mouth. Not a single sound escapes him. And Matt realizes that if he wants to answer that question, he has to lie. The truth will prove her right. It proves him right.  

She nods. His hesitation speaks volumes. “If you let her down easy now, you won’t do any irreparable damage. You both can move on.”

But he doesn’t want to move on. Again, nothing but a strangled grunt in the back of his throat slips past his lips. Matt loathes himself more than anything. Death seems kinder than whatever this is supposed to be.

If he had chosen to go home and stitch himself up tonight, maybe he could have still been pretending by now, and he wouldn’t be on the verge of losing you.

She sniffs. She isn’t crying, but her nose is still running from the presence of the very persistent cat, who has been watching them ever since Matt climbed into the window. 

“She’s like family to me,” Claire tells him as calmly as she possibly can. “I can’t let you do this to her, not after I’ve got a taste of what it’s like.”

If you were there with them, you would tell her to mind her own business. Knowing you, you wouldn’t allow her or anyone to control you. You are in charge of your own destiny, but as she said, you would go into it blindly and sacrifice yourself if he truly means that much to you, and if that were to ever happen, he might lose you. Claire might lose you. You might die, and that is a thought that Matt can’t even stand to form, but he has no choice as the voices come crashing back in. 

rough his shirt to touch his wound. It’s not a gentle caress, not at all.

“Promise me she’ll be okay?” he asks. 

Claire nods. “Of course, she will. You’re not the center of her universe,” and although she probably meant it to sound snarky, a certain softness follows through the sound of her voice.

Maybe in another life, he could be. In another life—another universe—he could be your sun, or perhaps the moon that shines at midnight as rain falls. Just not in this one.

He slips through the window back into a reality that is much different from whatever fantasy he could possibly conjure up to soothe the hot ache that spreads through his heart, and when his feet hit the wet ground, he knows he has a decision to make. 

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14 @shouldbestudying41 @kiwwia-wiwwia @writtenbyred @echo-ethe @kezibear @peterbarnes

[polaroidcats]

My Beloved Monster (a wolfstar ficlet)

Remus didn't remember his life before he got cursed. For all he knew he had been born in this castle and would most likely die in this castle because let's face it, who could ever love a monster like him? If you asked him, his chances to ever leave the castle were very slim. Saved by true love's first kiss.. yeah right.

He expected people to run away and leave him as soon as they discovered what he turned into when the moon stood high in the night sky. In fact, he'd seriously worry about anyone who didn't run away when they saw the monster that lay dormant while he pretended to be princess Remus Lupin, damsel in distress, just a normal human, every day.

He had his books and his plants and his fiery best friend Lily, who he had become rather close with over the years. At first, Remus had been annoyed by how protective Lily seemed of him, always fighting his battles and never letting him stand his own ground. But eventually he understood she only had his best interests at heart and was the most loyal friend any princess could wish for, so after several months of scorched eyebrows for Remus when Lily had lost her temper with him again, they set their differences aside and became friends.

Now he considered Lily his only best friend, and would do anything to protect her, just as she would always do anything to protect him and the cosy little life they had built together in their castle. It wasn't much, but they were content in each others company and Remus didn't see any reason why that should ever change.

They had a good system - some knight in shining armor would arrive to save Remus and Lily would make sure to only let through who she thought worthy of her best friend. So far that had led to every single knight returning to their kingdom unsuccessful, making up tales about the princess in the tower and the powerful dragon protecting her. None of them had ever even seen Remus, otherwise some might have been telling stories about a prince instead but in the end that's just semantics and none of that truly mattered when it came to it.

What mattered more to Remus was when one day all his protective measures failed and Lily got distracted by the knight's truly annoying and arrogant sidekick which resulted in a knight surprising Remus in his bedchamber just as he was about to take his 15th nap of the day (a true princess needs her beauty sleep, after all). He was lounging peacefully in his bed, about to fall asleep, when he heard steps and suddenly felt someone shake him less than gently.

"Wake up!!", the knight said and Remus looked at him, frightened.

"What?" he asked, and the knight replied, asking "Are you princess Remus?"

It is easy to assume that Remus had spent his entire life preparing himself for this moment, and that was partly true - there was a part of him that was a hopeless romantic, dreaming of a beautiful knight in shining armor coming to rescue him. That part was however routinely suppressed by the much, much louder part that told him he would never be worthy of anyone's love and would die as the monster he secretly was.

So when the moment came and the (only) most beautiful knight he had ever seen had made his way to Remus' bedchamber, all he managed to say was "I-I am. A-awaiting a knight uhm so bold as to uh rescue me? I guess?"

Not quite what Lily had made him rehearse but still so much better than how he had thought he would do, if he was being honest. At least what he had said was a grammatically correct sentence and made sense and he didn't just say the first thing that had come to his mind when he saw the prince, which had been "For fucks sake why are you so hot and I'm looking like a mess, lying here with my stuffed grindylow." or the second thing which had been "I'm so fucking gay". So all in all, Remus counted it as a win.

The knight smiled at him and said "Oh, that's nice. Now, let's go!" Go?? Go where??? Remus didn't want to go anywhere, not when he finally had a knight in his bedchamber!

"But wait, uh, sir knight? This uhm this be-eth our first meeting. Should it uhm not be a wonderful, romantic moment?" The knight replied with "Yeah, sorry dude, there's no time" while he was grabbing Remus' arm, and trying to get him to leave his bedchamber.

"Hey, wait. What are you doing? You know, you should sweep me off my feet, out yonder window and down a rope onto your valiant steed!" Remus was growing angrier now, he hadn't been planning on ever getting rescued but this definitely wasn't how he would have imagined it to go, on the few occasions he had allowed himself to fantasize about it.

The knight seemed amused by it all. "You've had a lot of time to plan this, haven't you?" Remus didn't want to answer that, afraid of embarrassing himself, but he couldn't help it.

"We have to savor this moment! You could recite an epic poem for me. A ballad? A sonnet! A limerick? Or something!" The knight still didn't seem to understand the importance of this moment for Remus, as he tried to drag him down the castle stairs.

"I don't think so" he said over his shoulder. Remus was getting impatient now, who did this knight think he was? And where the hell was Lily, she was supposed to defend the tower against exactly this type of person, Remus couldn't ever imagine this knight being his true love and he almost didn't want to be rescued anymore.

"Can I at least know the name of my champion?" he asked, clearly annoyed by the whole situation.

"Uh, Shririus" said the knight.

[onmyyan]

Manny Delmont HC's

A/N: The last of the boys is here but he certainly ain't the least ;) EDITED

TW'S: YANDERE, MURDER, NEEDLE MENTION(TATTOO),

By far the most unhinged member of the family and thats saying A LOT lmao

Platonic yandere for his kin, he has killed in their name and will do it again.

One of if not the most loyal person you'd ever meet.

Once he decides he likes you he turns into your own personal puppy.

If the puppy was a man who enjoyed showing his love through the most violent means at hand that is.

Smells like honey and lavender and when he can't be bothered to hide it, blood.

Shares a lot of features with his twin, except his eyes, he has the brightest in his family, and they are often clouded with mischief.

Marcos uses him as a test dummy for outfits since they look nearly identical, if looks good on Manny he can go from there.

He's been offered to model before.

Best begging face in the business, he rarely has to ask for something twice.

Has a few tattoos, there's a blank cartoon heart over his real one, plans on getting his beloveds name inked there once he finds em.

And he knows he will!

Hopeless romantic, he loves romcoms!

Especially You on Netflix(👁👄👁)

Thinks Christine should have chosen to be with the Phantom of the Opera.

Also thinks Victor should have been with Emily from A Corpse Bride.

Mask kink but we'll circle back later ;)

It stems from his love of all things Horror something be shared with his twin, if he's watching something where he picks up even a hint of romance between the Slasher and the final girl he starts kicking his feet.

Thinks the bad guys deserve love to!

Gave himself his first tattoo, a stick n poke he made himself after watching 1 YouTube video.

Yeah that got infected, but he thought scars were sick as hell plus it was a great party story.

People fall over their feet for him on the daily.

Has gotten in the most fights out of all the brothers.

He may takes some licks during them but he was scary in the way that he never stayed down, and you could tell from the blank look in his eye and the twisted grin, if he got the chance he'd put you in the ground.

Terrible singer but that doesn't stop him from belting out his favorites in the shower

He loves pop music because there are a surprising amount of songs that remind him of his specific brand of love.

He really likes reading, especially when it teaches him something new, always learning this one.

He could be at the top of his class if he put in a smidge more of effort but he likes his life, as long as he's not actively causing chaos which lets be honest is very easy for him, the teachers often turn a blind eye to his goofing off.

Had several fake Id's before he was legal just to get into clubs to see bands preform.

Has a snake named noodle.

Shes a Python. He talks to her like a person

"You would not believe my day girl."

He's lean but strong, way stronger than he looks which always catches people by surprise.

If he doesn't have something occupying his hands he will start tapping on whatever available surface and if left unattended that will turn into beatboxing.

Funny even when he isn't trying

He once kidnapped a guy who was giving his twin grief and sent a picture of his upside down body in the group chat

"Felt kinda silly idk :) "

Manny's got high expectations for anyone dating his family, he's the real reason they have the rule about vetting people with each other.

When Ricky and Gabe were fighting over that girl way back when, a much younger Manny, hating the way his usually loving siblings were at each others throats, took it upon himself to rid them of the problem.

Knowing he only meant well Ricky and Gabe concocted the system the use today, but don't tell that to Manny.

His fits always come with a body count.

Oral fixation, he's constantly chewing on something.

His only source for relationships are his insane ass family so as the baby, it's natural he'd absorb all that crazy.

His laugh is more of a cackle.

He picks stuff up super easily but also gets bored just as fast so he has this random ass assortment of skills and neat party tricks.

Like one summer he got super into gymnastics so for fun he liked to twist into a backbend and speed crawl towards his brothers in the pitch black of the night.(Ricky has passed out from this)

Adrenalin junkie, he'd gotten his first motorbike at 15 and had been chasing the high he got from that first ride since.

Gabe taught him how to fight, not because he wanted to but because Manny had a tendency to mouth off to the wrong people and Gabe couldn't always be there to defend him.

Loves playing soccer, his father wanted him to have a much more legal way of releasing that devil in him, after nailing the goalie with a ball so hard he passed out, he fell in love with the sport.

He has a mean kick, if someone pissed him off enough he'd always manage to 'accidentally' kick the ball at their softest parts.

Has a new group of friends every week, he can't help it if everyone wants a piece of him.

He meets you at a bookstore, and he seen you long before he walked over to ask for help.

He watched the gentle way you handled the books, the care you showed them as you sorted, he could see you bobbing your head to the song softly playing from some speaker, the beams of light pouring in from the window cast you in a light that was damn near angelic.

He gaped at you silently for a bit before coming up with some obscure book title im his mind, if his assumptions about you were correct, you'd offer to help.

"Hi? Sorry to bug you." He put on his most charming smile and he could see it's effects instantly, the warm look in your eye gave him butterflies in his stomach.

"You're fine, how can I help you hun?" God even the way you spoke had goosebumps trailing down his back, your tone was like velvet.

"O-oh well I have this report due tomorrow that I completely spaced about- any chance you have this one?" He made sure to flash his watch, peacocking in every way he knew how, the rolex a gift from his Father, but you focused intently on the screen.

"Hmm this is an old one, I've definitely seen it, wanna follow me?"

"Absolutely." The response was innocent in nature but you had no idea just how much he meant that.

"So, you like to read or just a job thing?" He said gesturing to the rest of the store. To his delight you gave him another heart stopping smile, "I love books. How they can take you away from all the bullshit- oops sorry-" he laughed loud enough to hear it echo causing her to grin, "No don't be sorry, I wholeheartedly agree."

Ironically as picky as he was with his family's partners, he was yours the second you called him Hun, he got flashes of your life together the longer you two spoke, in reality the conversation was maybe ten minutes but that was all he needed.

Charms his way into your number, starts bringing you lunch and offering to pick you up, then he's offering to take you to work, no matter how early you started.

"I don't wanna mess with your sleep hun, plus you'd have to drive all the way across town and then to my job-"

He'd squish your cheeks together to steal a kiss, "Nonsense Darling, you could just spend the night if you're so worried about me." And would you look at that you're spending the night like every other night.

He's dummy smooth, he has you practically moved in before you're one month anniversary, if anyone were to try and plant some poison in your head like "You guys are moving kinda fast" or "shouldn't you get to know him better?" They are quickly put on his shit list.

As quick to cut a bitch as our boy is, he's also smart, and knows if everyone in your family and immediate circle started dropping dead he'd have a problem, so instead he gaslight gatekeeps and girlbosses his way to victory.

It be almost like love bombing, except it never goes away, he only ever falls deeper in love with you as time goes on.

Walk him like a dog he needs it.

Wants to take you all over the world, loves the idea of boneing in every continent.

He's soo cuddly the type to text you when you're in the bathroom cuz he miss you :(

The kinda guy where if you send him a cute picture he responds with a video of him falling to his knees wherever he's at.

Loves being the little spoon, but when he's wasted he has a tendency to flop on top of you like a starfish before curling around you like a koala.

Mean mugs the shit outta any girl who looks at him bec tf I'm for MY babys eyes only >:(

Promise rings for your one month anniversary that have both your guy's blood in them. How he got it you'll never know but you're a weirdo just like him and instead of questioning it you bear hug him.

Fantastic kisser, knocks the breath outta you each time, please touch him while you make out, pull his hair he promises not to moan that loudly again. Scouts honor.

He's lying btw

He is the opposite of afraid to moan in your ear, they almost sound exaggerated but no he's really that loud.

[gamerwoo]

Hyunjin: Age-Restricted (Part Three)

Characters: Hyunjin x female reader (ft other skz members)

Genre/warnings: nanny!reader, boy next door/neighbor!hyunjin, generally inexperienced and painfully shy virgin!reader, fluff, humor, there’s a little angst if you count reader panicking lmao, chan does onlyfans lmao, reader almost walks in on something she shouldn’t (but nothing spicy happens), mentions that reader and chan madeout once while they were a little intoxicated and she had a panic attack, reader has anxiety, implied that reader has issues w her mom, reader and co get drunk (if i missed anything lmk!!), minors dni!!!

Word count: 5,890

Summary: You think it’s luck when the new family you nanny for is so stupid rich that they rent you a fancy new apartment just so you can live closer to them. You think it’s luck when the guy across the hall is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your entire life and makes an effort to talk to you. But that’s just about where your luck runs out, because Hyunjin is more out of your league than you could ever imagine, and you’re just some hopeless virgin who never had good luck in the first place.

tag list: @hyuneyeon​ @ack-aashi​ @rindomo​ @fridayamirah​ [be added to the taglist by filling out this form!]

permanent tag list (italics are unable to tag): @minluvly​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @woozarts​ @septicrebel​ @4kwp @thepencilkorner​ @shmooooo​ @bubblelixie​ @byunhoebaek​ @dejavernon​ @ahandfulofkeys​ @slut-for-dabi​ @avyskai​ @pussymode @sunoosult​ @moonlightcandy00​ @missrobyn81​

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Mrs. Park texted you that morning, saying you wouldn’t be needed. Apparently Hajoon was sick and she wanted to stay home with him, which you didn’t mind. It meant you had a free day to yourself, and after what happened with Hyunjin the previous day, you really wanted to see your friends and get their take on everything. As much as you wanted to gush about everything to Chan last night while playing Smash, you found yourself listening to how his day had gone and getting off-track a lot, so you didn’t really have the time or space to say anything. So you got ready to go out for the day and make your way to your old apartment to see your friends. 

Seungmin and Minho might’ve been busy, but you knew Chan was always home. Plus, he let you keep the spare key that Minho illegally copied, so you could get in even if Chan was for some reason not home.

“Yo, _____!” Jeongin waved at you from the front desk as you walked through the lobby.

Your eyebrows knitted together, “I thought you worked nights.”

“Had to switch shifts,” he shrugged. “Where’re you off to today? You’re leaving later than usual.”

“No work today,” you sighed as you strolled up to the desk and rested an elbow on it. “Gonna go visit my friends and hope they’re around.”

“Do they live far?”

“Couple hours away or something like that.”

“Oh, well have a safe trip,” he grinned.

“Thanks!” you chirped and waved goodbye, starting to walk away.

“Oh, hang on!” Jeongin suddenly gasped, making you stop and take the few steps back toward the desk as he fished around for something on the desk by the computers that you couldn’t see. “Before you go… This is for you.”

He held out a folded piece of paper with a knowing smirk, though you didn’t know why.

“Oh,” was all you said, taking the paper with a slightly confused expression.

You continued to stand there as you unfolded the paper, and then you felt butterflies in your stomach as you read the short note, a smile creeping onto your face despite not wanting it to with Jeongin standing right there.

I forgot to give you my number. Text me sometime

-Hyunjin

P.s. I’m holding you to this too

“Have a good daaaay, _____,” Jeongin sang.

‘He definitely read the note,’ you realized, folding the note and waving to Jeongin again before swiftly leaving the building.

-

Chan’s car was parked in the usual spot, so you knew he was home. But knocking on the door left you with no answer. Chan was probably asleep since it was before noon. So you let yourself in.

You left your bag by the door as if you still lived there, kicking off your shoes and hanging up your coat in the usual spot you used to. Then you went straight to the bedroom you used to share with Chan, busting open the door and mouth open, ready to yell at him to wake the hell up because you had a situation.

Except there was a new situation in front of you that made you stop dead in your tracks, inhaled breath held, and mouth still open.

Chan stood in front of you, facing the door with his phone on a tripod between him and the door, the screen facing him. He was dressed in a nice white button-up and some black slacks. His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his toned abs that you’d seen far too many times, and his hands were frozen, in the middle of unbuckling the belt around his slacks.

He stared at you silently, as you did the same to him.

Finally you let out a sigh, “I thought that this would stop happening now that we don’t live together.”

“Well maybe if you’d knock,” he stated, dropping the buckle.

“I knocked on the front door, how did you not hear?”

“I figured you were like, a delivery person or something and you’d just leave it out there!”

“Well I figured you were asleep!”

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, “You realize I have to do this commission all over now, right?”

“Well, do it later,” you told him. “I need your help.”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed as he gave you a concerned look, “Help? You doing okay?”

“Love life help,” you confessed with a sigh, knowing that would absolutely pique your friend’s interest.

And it did, as gasp leaving his lips as his eyes went wide, “Really? Aw, _____!”

“No, it’s… I don’t know what it is. Just get changed and I’ll wait in the living room.”

“Why can’t I just wear this?”

“Chan, you’re almost half-naked.”

“Yeah, and? _____, we slept in the same room forever and you’ve definitely seen me wear less,” he scoffed.

You shrugged with a slight nod, “Yeah, touché.”

-

Curled up on one side of the couch with your back to the arm rest, one knee to your chest with your other leg curled under you, Chan almost mimicked you as he sat on the other side, only one of his legs was stretched out in front of him, almost reaching your leg. He folded his hands on his stomach as he kept his full attention on you.

“So you know Hyunjin?” you asked.

He narrowed his eyes, quirking a brow as he thought, “That’s…the front desk guy?”

You shook your head, “Hot neighbor. Front desk guy is Felix the Austrailian.”

“Right, hot neighbor!” he nodded, wagging a finger at you. “Still think you should go for front desk guy, but I’m just biased.”

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway, he like…hit on me, I think?”

“You think?”

“I mean, like… Okay, so he asked me to help him bleach his hair so I went over, and we watched a movie in between him processing, and then he told me he actually knew how to dye his own hair and he just wanted an excuse to invite me over because he wanted ‘a pretty girl to play with his hair’.”

Chan kept his eyes on you through your entire babbled recap. Honestly, he was surprised that he even kept up with how fast you were talking, but he seemed to understand everything, a smile creeping onto his face.

“Aw, _____! That’s good!” he grinned. But he saw the way you were biting the inside of your cheek despite the small smile on your face, and how you were fiddling with the strings of your hoodie. “What’s wrong?”

You let out a groan as if it were obvious, bursting, “Chan, I’m a virgin!”

“Okay, didn’t realize we were jumping to sex so quickly,” he commented.

“No! He didn’t jump to anything – I mean, I think he almost kissed me but then you called.”

Chan seemed upset with himself, giving you puppy-dog eyes as his jaw dropped slightly, “I cockblocked? I didn’t mean t– Oh, wait, is that a good thing?”

Chan knew how you got when people kissed you. He may or may not have discovered your issue himself when the two of you were kind of drunk during a night at home without Seungmin and Minho where you both admitted to finding the other cute – you still thought Chan was good-looking, but you definitely did not see him as someone you wanted to date. You still weren’t sure who kissed who first, but Chan’s tongue was in your mouth and suddenly, you shut down. Eyes squeezed closed, body tensed, and your breathing was jagged and uneven.

You were having a panic attack. And it happened every single time somebody new kissed you, and it usually took you a few times to actually warm up to them enough to makeout with them comfortably. You still didn’t know why you were like this – maybe it was just the anxiety of knowing you were inexperienced and you feared you were a bad kisser or whatever awful thing that could go wrong – but you were embarrassed every single time it happened nonetheless.

But Chan was now fully aware of your fears. He was there to hold you and promise you that you were okay in between your breathy apologies. You opened up to him about what might have caused you to do that, and told him it happened with your last two – and only two – boyfriends, so you were pretty sure this was just…a thing. 

A thing that you hated so, so much.

You frowned and looked down at your lap, feeling defeated, “I don’t know, dude… I wanted him to kiss me, but I also didn’t want to, y’know, hyperventilate and freak him out. But also, I don’t even know if he only wants to kiss me. Like, what if he’s just looking for a hook-up? Or even if he does want a relationship, how am I supposed to explain that I have no clue what I’m doing in regards to basically anything?”

Chan just shrugged, his lips pressing into a thin line, “You just be honest. If he’s worth your time, he won’t care. No decent person will think less of you, _____; I’ve told you that so many times.”

“I know, but I care!” you shot back.

“You care too much,” he stated.

“I know!”

“Look,” Chan sighed, letting his head tilt to the left and rest against the back of the couch, looking at you softly – if it were anyone else, you’d think it was pity, but because it was Chan, it was more like…a weird sense of understanding; like he could see your point of view, “I know you’ve said your anxiety is manageable, and I do think it is. But when it comes to more…physical relationships, I think that’s when it really stops you. You care too much because you're anxious, and you need to figure out where that stems from and work on it.”

You scoffed, “I think we both know where it stems from.”

“You can’t blame everything on your mom, _____.”

“She made me a people pleaser!” 

“Sweetie, you’re far passed people pleaser,” he chuckled, even though he found no humor in your mental state. “You’re more like a…”

As Chan stopped to think of a word, you let out an annoyed huff, “This isn’t even about any of that. Can we get back to the Hyunjin thing?”

“Right,” Chan cleared his throat as he readjusted himself on the couch to get a bit more comfortable. “Well, my dear, I think… I think you need to just see what his intentions are. Go from there and just explain your boundaries.”

“But it’s embarrassing having to tell people I’m in my 20’s and have only had two one-month-long relationships, and I’ve never done more than makeout with someone,” you whined, looking at Chan with desperation like he could make all your problems go away if you begged him hard enough.

“If he thinks it’s embarrassing, you call me and I’ll bring Minho and Seungmin over to embarrass him,” Chan promised with a laugh. “They don’t hold back.”

You let out a sigh, eyes staring off as you recalled the many times the pair had made a virgin joke to you, “As much as I sometimes wish they would. Even they were shocked when they found out I’m still a virgin!”

He cocked his head to one side, eyebrows creasing together in confusion.

“When we played that drinking game, I had to confess how many people I’ve slept with,” you explained. “I said I was a virgin and both of their jaws dropped.”

Chan’s eyes widened when he recalled the memory, “Oh! Oh, _____, no! They weren’t shocked because of your age, it’s because they didn’t think like… Like someone like you could be a virgin.”

It was your turn to be confused, “Someone like me?”

“Well, you don’t exactly look like an incel, y’know?” he stated, gesturing to you across the couch. “You’re good-looking, _____, and you don’t act like…weird. I mean, you’re weird, but in a likable way. You don’t have the appearance or personality of someone you’d think would still be a virgin. Think, like: sweaty guy who lives in his mom’s basement.”

“Oh…” you figured that made you feel a little bit better that your roommates were never judging you that hard. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Anytime,” he grinned, his eyes crinkling in the outer corners. “So, did you wanna go do something, or what? Maybe get your mind off things for a while.”

“Kinda was hoping we could just play video games or something,” you told him. “When are Seungmin and Minho coming back?”

“Seungmin should be back any minute, and Min’ll be a couple hours,” he said, checking his watch that he really only used for ‘daddy’ commissions for his Onlyfans, so you laughed a little seeing that he still had it on despite being changed into basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He looked back up at you and narrowed his eyes. “You shut your mouth.”

“Didn’t even open it,” you replied.

-

Changbin eyed Hyunjin from across the table, watching as the younger boy kept his eyes on his phone as he nervously curled a strand of blonde hair around his index finger, biting at his bottom lip and bouncing his leg. To his left, his girlfriend, Kit looked over the menu, oblivious to whatever was going on between the two friends – or she didn’t care.

“Are you going to like, be here anytime soon?” Changbin asked.

His voice made Hyunjin jump slightly, looking up with wide eyes, “Huh?”

“You’ve been staring at your phone for like, ten minutes,” Changbin told him. “And judging from your nervous ticks, I don’t think you’re just scrolling social media. Honestly, I haven’t seen you nervous in a long time. What’s up?”

Hyunjin sighed, dropping his phone on the table and running both hands through his hair, “She hasn’t texted me.”

Changbin’s eyebrows dropped as he deadpanned, “This about about apartment girl, isn’t it?”

“Can you stop judging me?”

“A girl?” Kit asked, eyes widened as her interest in the conversation piqued, her menu being lowered to look between her boyfriend and his best friend. “There’s a girl involved? Jinnie, you like a girl?”

“He hardly knows a girl,” Changbin corrected. “Remember, the girl who moved in across from his apartment?”

“Oh,” she nodded, recalling Changbin briefly mentioning the situation to her – well, he ranted about it but she picked out what was important. “She made you blonde. Y’know, Jinnie, I’ve pegged you for a lot of things but never a hopeless romantic.”

At least her stupid joke could make Hyunjin laugh, looking down at the table as he seemed to relax slightly in his seat.

“Did you give her your number?” Changbin asked.

“I left it with one of the guys at the desk – Jeongin, remember him?”

“Maybe he just didn’t see her today.”

“She always works weekdays,” Hyunjin insisted. 

“Maybe she didn’t like your ‘move’ as much as you thought,” Kit chuckled, mostly just trying to tease him a little and lighten the mood a bit more.

If anything, it made him more tense as he said, “No, she did, I know it! I’m so good at reading people, Kitty -- you know! She was blushing and hiding her face and everything. It was honestly really cute…”

Though, it more so sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than them.

“Maybe she’s busy,” Changbin suggested with a shrug. “If she’s working, that’s probably what it is. I mean, what does she even do?”

Hyunjin scoffed, picking up his phone again and sliding a little bit down against the seat of the booth, “I’m not asking. Then she’ll ask what I do and I’m not getting myself wrapped up in any lies before I can…explain.”

“I mean, if she’s as shy as you said, maybe she’s afraid to text you first,” Kit said as she went back to looking over the menu. “Bet you didn’t think of that one, loverboy.”

Hyunjin looked at her absolutely dumbfounded. He looked like she just casually told him the meaning of life. Honestly, why didn’t he think of that? He obviously knew how shy you were.

While Changbin just smirked at her and gently nudged her side, “Good call, babe.”

“I know everything,” she nodded. “The only way that girl could ever possibly have the courage to text you is if she’s drunk – and that’s still a solid maybe.”

And almost on cue, Hyunjin’s phone buzzed against the table. Kit set her menu down and Changbin glanced at the glowing screen as Hyunjin picked up his phone slowly, eyeing Kit before his eyes flickered down to the screen to see a text from an unknown number.

-

Two slices of pizza and two rounds of Beerio Kart later, you were considering just spending the night at your old apartment. Despite loving your own space, you missed having people around. You missed the good moments of being drunk and laughing about nothing and everything because they could somehow make anything a joke – including the one time the four of you heard a thud from the apartment above you and Minho suggested that the old man who lived there finally kicked the bucket and instead of calling someone, all of you were laughing until you were crying.

Except Jisung basically lived there now, sleeping on their couch more often than not.

And boy, was explaining the situation to him fun.

“I don’t get why this guy maybe wanting to date her is a big deal,” he had said when you were recapping the situation to Seungmin and Minho.

“She’s nervous because she’s scared he’ll think she’s like, weird or undateable if she’s still a virgin,” Minho deadpanned, eyes still on the screen.

Jisung’s jaw dropped, “You’re still a virgin?!”

Needless to say, you finished your drink first and won the first round.

Now, you were two whole drinks deep, you were feeling pretty tipsy – like, tipsy to the point that you were about to confidently tell Jisung your whole life story for fun – and you were contemplating just not going home at all since you were having so much fun. But you also knew it was the alcohol talking because, god, you loved your bed.

“One more?” Minho asked, setting the controller down on the coffee table.

All five of you crammed onto the couch, with Jisung perched on the back, one foot planted on the right armrest while the other was behind Minho. Chan sat beside him on the back of the couch with you sitting comfortably between his legs, leaning back into the cushions as your legs stretched out in front of you. Minho made damn sure to manspread enough to get his own space, while Seungmin leaned into the left arm of the couch. But Seungmin at least seemed content having to lean into the arm of the couch. It could be worse – he could be sitting by Jisung.

“I don’t think _____ should keep drinking,” Chan spoke up, always the voice of reason. “She’s gotta get home, remember?”

“She can crash with you, it’s fine,” Seungmin told him, waiving the worry away.

“The bed is gone, remember?”

Minho and Seungmin looked up at Chan, then at each other, like they forgot you were really gone.

“You guys had a fourth bed?” Jisung exclaimed.

“Yeah, it’s in the dumpster now,” Minho told him as he got up from his seat. “Why don’t you go sleep in it?”

“What if we make sure _____ gets home safe?” Seungmin asked as Minho went to the kitchen for another beer, and Jisung swung his legs around the back of the couch to go follow him. “Then can we play one more?”

“Yeah, dad,” you leaned forward and turned your head to look up at Chan with pleading eyes, “can we?”

Chan gave you a stern look, “How will we know you made it home? We can’t go on the train with you.”

And that was when you remembered something. Something that made butterflies erupt in your stomach before, but now only brought you drunken delight.

“I have Hyunjin’s number!” you squealed. “I forgot! I can text him and I can see if he’ll pick me up from the train station and–”

“And you can blow him in his car!” Minho teased with fake-enthusiasm, though the shit-eating grin he gave you when you glared at him was very much real.

But then you raised your eyebrows and said, “Unless…”

“You won’t,” Chan stated, but it wasn’t like he was telling you that he didn’t want you to. He was telling you that they all knew you wouldn’t.

“How did you forget to tell us you have his number?” Seungmin wondered, leaning toward you as you fished the note from your pocket and began typing the number into your phone.

“It’s _____ we’re talking about,” Minho scoffed.

“Are you sure you wanna text him right now?” Chan asked warily.

“I’m not that drunk,” you promised. “Only enough to have a little more confidence and courage.”

“You go, bestie,” Jisung chimed in before taking a drink of his beer.

Minho groaned, looking at him in annoyance, “Now you need a new beer to play!”

You drowned out their bickering as you typed Hyunjin’s name into your phone before starting a new message.

?????: hey, it’s _____! sorry i didn’t text you earlier!!

“That’s so dry,” Seungmin commented beside you before adding with a shrug, “I mean, you are a virgin.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, meeting his innocent gaze, “Do you want me to announce that I’m drunk?”

“It would make things more interesting, yeah.”

Before you could quip a reply, your phone buzzed in your hand.

Hyunjin 😳💌: no worries! how was work today?

_____ 😌🥰: i didn’t. i hung out with friends all day

Hyunjin 😳💌: oh, that’s fun!

Hyunjin 😳💌: what did you do?

_____ 😌🥰: beerio kart lmao

Hyunjin 😳💌: im a PRO at beerio kart lmao

Hyunjin 😳💌: did you make it home alright after that or are you staying over there?

_____ 😌🥰: ummmmmm

“He’s also unbearably dry,” Minho commented, disgust in his tone as he watched you text from over your shoulder.

You shoved him away from you, his face landing in the cushions.

_____ 😌🥰: I still have to take the train home

Hyunjin 😳💌: you’re not still drunk, are you?

_____ 😌🥰: i mean…..i’ve been drunker

Hyunjin 😳💌: do you need me to pick you up from the station? will you be able to get on the train okay? i can pick you up wherever you are

Jisung clicked his tongue, “He sounds desperate.”

You turned your head around to give him a confused look, “I hardly even know you.”

Hyunjin 😳💌: sorry if i’m being a lot lol i just want you to get back okay

“Does he even know where you are?” Seungmin asked. “I don’t think he’s that committed to driving all the way here. It’s kinda long.”

“How much do you trust this guy?” Chan wondered, looking a little concerned. “You’d be in a car alone with him for about two hours.”

“That also means even more Beerior Kart than just one more round,” you pointed out, a grin spreading across your face.

“Yeah!” Minho cheered, holding his beer in the air. “We love Hyunjae!”

“Hyunjin,” you corrected.

“Whatever-the-fuck!” he said in the same tone with the same smile plastered on his face.

“I don’t know if I would want you in a car with him for two hours if you’re gonna be even more intoxicated,” Chan admitted, placing a hand on your upper back.

Your phone buzzed again in your hand, but it continued to buzz after the first one. You looked down to see Hyunjin’s name illuminated on your screen.

“He’s calling!” Seungmin gasped with wide eyes.

“Go take it in my room,” Chan told you, helping you to your feet and gesturing to his bedroom door. “I already know these freaks will start moaning in the background and shit.”

“Can you be like, a little more fun, grandpa?” Minho frowned.

You went into Chan’s bedroom and shut the door, feeling nervousness wash over you despite having liquid courage in your system. Maybe that was just the overall anxiety of taking phone calls. Still, you forced yourself to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, _____,” Hyunjin breathed. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m at my old apartment with my friends,” you explained. “They’re trying to figure out the whole ‘me leaving’ situation.”

“Like I said, I can come get you,” he offered again. “Where are you?”

“It’s almost two hours away,” you chuckled.

“That’s okay. I’d rather you be safe than worry about a long drive.”

“Weeeeeeell…” you began slowly, wondering if you should even admit this to Hyunjin or not but your mouth was talking before your brain could consider anything else, “one of my friends is kinda concerned about me being drunk and alone in someone else’s car for two hours.”

Thankfully, Hyunjin laughed, “Understandably so. I can pick you up from the train station if you need. Do you need money for a ticket?”

“No, I’m okay. I think maybe Chan just wants me to get a taxi from the station or something.”

“I can call one for you and have it there by the time you get there.”

Feeling maybe too bold from the alcohol, you blurted the question that suddenly came to your mind: “Hyunjin, why are you being so nice to me?”

Your boldness seemed to catch him off-guard for a minute considering his silence, but you heard somebody chuckle in the background, along with a feminine-sounding laugh. It made your heart sink a little bit. Was he with another girl?

‘Are you seriously getting jealous already?’

But in your tipsy state, you’d basically forgotten about it when Hyunjin started talking.

“I’d be like this with any of my friends,” he told you. “If you’re drunk, I want to make sure you make it back safely. So if I can’t personally make sure, I’ll call a taxi at the very least.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to pick me up,” you babbled, unable to control your mouth because about 50% of your brain was just spilling whatever it thought up, “I just want Chan to not worry about me, either.”

He chuckled, “Sweetheart, I get it. I’m not offended.”

Your face was already feeling flushed from the alcohol, but it somehow got hotter hearing him call you that. You were kind of glad you weren’t around him because you didn’t want him to see how big your smile was at the name.

“‘Kay, just making sure,” you told him, still giggling from the way your heart fluttered from the use of ‘sweetheart’. You were probably going to think about that all night.

“Let me know when you leave and I’ll have the taxi ready for you,” he promised. “Let me or your friends know if anything happens, alright?”

“I will.”

“Have a good night, _____.”

“Thanks, Hyunjin!”

The bedroom door creaked open just as you ended the call. You looked up from the phone to see Seungmin’s head poking in, a devilish grin on his face.

“One more?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly, “One more.”

-

The train ride went smooth despite you having the spins, and you were pretty sure you were almost fully-sober by the time you were in the taxi. But when you got out of the car and went to walk toward your building, you stumbled slightly.

Okay, so maybe you did play more than one more round.

It was almost 2am as you entered the lobby, and you expected to hear Felix’s deep voice greet you. But instead, you heard one that made your heart skip a beat.

“_____,” Hyunjin stood from one of the chairs in the lobby and strolled over to you, a casual smile on his face. “You made it back okay.”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, absolutely shocked that he waited up for you and stayed in the lobby to make sure you showed up. Nobody had ever done that for you – well, except for your grandmother when you would spend the nights at her house when you were in high school and she wanted to make sure you made it home safely, and sometimes Chan did.

“Are you still drunk?” he asked, seeming a little concerned as he slightly tilted his head to one side, eyes studying you.

He mostly asked because you were just standing there staring at him and not saying anything. In fact, you were staring at him like he was some famous person that had strolled in and taken you off-guard.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted in a mumble.

“Do you want some help to your room?” he offered.

A yawn escaped your lips as you nodded, and it hit you just how tired you really were. You kept yourself occupied with your phone on the train and in the taxi, yawning a little here and there since you weren’t surrounded by the excitement of your friends anymore. But knowing your bed was only a few floors away now, you were ready to pass out immediately.

“Need a hand, Hyunjin?” the familiar deep voice commented from by the counter.

“I think I’ve got her,” he replied, carefully sliding an arm around your waist and putting your arm around his shoulders, keeping his hand in yours. “Thanks, though, Lix.”

“‘Course! Have a good night, guys. _____, call down if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Felix,” you slurred slightly, glancing over at the counter to give him a lazy smile. “You’re the best.”

He grinned brightly with a wave as Hyunjin helped you to the elevators.

All you could think of was how good he smelled. Would it be weird to try to subtly nuzzle into him or would he notice? Could you even be sneaky like this? 

Being drunk typically gave you some sort of god-complex, but all of a sudden, you were basically back to being your shy, anxious self. 

‘I sobered up at least a little bit,’ you reminded yourself, ‘I’m just not drunk enough. ...I should’ve gotten drunker.’

Had Hyunjin been around you at your peak drunkenness, you probably would’ve been throwing him pickup lines left and right. 

“Was your trip home okay?” he asked as he pressed the button on the elevator with a slender finger.

“Yeah,” you yawned, trying to not let your head drop onto his shoulder. “Pretty boring, honestly.”

“How was hanging out with your friends?” he continued as the elevator doors slid open.

Honestly, you were fine to walk on your own – it might not have been in a perfect straight line, but you knew you wouldn’t fall on your face – but you continued to let Hyunjin think you couldn’t just because it was nice feeling a strong hand on your waist and his warm fingers wrapped around your hand. And also just leaning into him was nice. Everything about Hyunjin thinking you were far too drunk to function was nice.

And then if you did decide to be bold, you could pretend like you didn’t remember it tomorrow. It was a win/win!

“I didn’t win,” you pouted as you entered the elevator and Hyunjin pressed the button for the 8th floor. “I’m not the best at chugging my drinks…or at driving…”

“Remind me to not get into a car with you, then,” he smirked, glancing at you with a teasing look.

You huffed back in his face, “Okay, real-life driving is not using a fucking controller and trying to drift on Rainbow Road.”

“It could be,” he shrugged, “if you try hard enough.”

“I think you’re the drunk one,” you stated, going so far as to reach up and press the tip of your index finger against the button of his nose.

His eyes closed as your finger touched him, and then he blinked a few times before laughing at you. And you stared at him in a way that clearly said ‘why the hell did I do that’, trying to process exactly why in the hell you did do that.

Then you stared straight forward, whispering to yourself but very much out loud, “What the fuck am I doing?”

“So, who’s the drunk one again?” he continued to laugh, and you could feel teasing eyes on you but you couldn’t look at him.

Maybe you wouldn’t look at him ever again after this.

“Oh, now you’re gonna be shy?” he chuckled, releasing your hand to put his fingers under your chin and guide you to look at him.

Doe eyes met his slender ones. You couldn’t tell what kind of emotion he was looking at you with. There were hints of a smirk on his face but there was still softness in his eyes.

‘Oh god, it’s happening.’

Your heart was hammering in your chest, bracing for whatever was going to happen next. If he was going to kiss you while you were drunk in an elevator, you at least hoped you didn’t also get trapped in the small space because that wouldn’t help you at all.

The elevator dinged softly.

His features broke into a sweet smile as he said, “You’re cute.”

As the doors slid open, Hyunjin dropped his hand to hold yours that you now realized was fisting the shoulder of his shirt because of your nerves. He guided you out of the elevator and walked you halfway down the hall to where your doors faced each other.

“Keys?” he asked.

“Ummm,” you hummed as you fished around in your bag with your free hand, your mind still reeling from whatever Hyunjin was doing to you in the elevator.

You finally found your keys with shaky hands, handing them to Hyunjin. He made sure you weren’t going to fall over if he let you go – you wouldn’t have before but now because of him, your knees felt like jelly – before he unlocked your door and pushed it open slightly for you. Then he handed you your keys back with a smile.

“I’m glad you made it home okay,” he told you.

“Thanks for making sure,” you mumbled, still finding it difficult to look him in the eye.

So all you saw was one foot step forward toward you. You didn’t see his hand come up to cup your cheek, or his head lean forward to press plush lips to your hairline, making your eyes squeeze closed as you felt your heart implode, erupting butterflies in your stomach.

“Have a good night, _____,” he murmured softly. Then he gently took your shoulders, turned you toward your door, and lightly pushed you inside because he knew you wouldn’t move your feet on your own. You could hear him chuckling at you as he added, “Don’t forget to drink lots of water.”

And then he closed the door.

And you stood in your kitchen/living area in the dark, feeling somehow more drunk than when you even left Chan’s.

[cartierdreamx]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *3*

Hi my honey buns <333, I am so sorry for the wait, but here it is and I so hope you enjoy!! Just diving in further into Jenna’s character and r has a secret?????!!!, I am like half asleep right now so I have no idea what to say butt I will also mention, I will look over this ch properly with a full rested mind once I wake up LMFAO. I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging, following, and commenting! Thank you all for your constant love and support! J <33

If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when the next chapter comes out, comment down below or let me know thru asks!! Also please make sure your tags are on, so I’m able to tag you🤎

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader

Warnings: the tiniest bit of angst, dark themes, swearing, mentions of weapons and violence and murder.

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!  

*though my fics have real people, my fics are just for entertainment and far from reality*

FYI: JENNA IS G!P IN THIS FIC!!

~~

There was barely any times Jenna felt abandoned, hopeless, trapped, and there were even less times where Jenna felt this way about a woman, an ordinary citizen. Vulnerable was never a side she would welcome, it made her feel weak, an easy access for Gio, so when you came along, you were an anomaly, you were only supposed to be a one-night stand, she would never admit it but the heat of her heart upon talking to you melted the layer of ice she projects.

Oh, how she wishes she had never spoken to you, you would’ve been safe, if everything she cares for would be destroyed, if she had never spoken to you, crimson would have never painted her hands, your crimson, your blood spilt was a reminder this was all her fault.

But, would there have been more regret if she left you alone that night? There was barely any times Jenna felt vulnerable, but when she’s with you, that’s what she is, and tonight, she was more vulnerable than ever. Vulnerability wasn’t welcomed, but it encased every inch of her.

“Jen, you have to let go of her.” Viv sighs, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Jenna winces away, “NO, no, I can’t, I can’t, please, Viv.”

“Hun, I know you don’t want to, but we have to get her on this stretcher so Kaman can take of her.”

“I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE CARE OF HER.” Now in a softer tone and as her tears fall, she repeats, “I was supposed to take care of her.”

Viv understood her feelings, she didn’t want to lose you either, and at the possibility of losing you, she couldn’t lose Jenna the same night, “Jenna, this isn’t your fault, you have to get that through your head.”

How she would give up anything in the world right now to see your seraphic smile again, she’d trade her throne, she’d take off her mafia crown and let the city fall into the hands of Gio Marcello if it meant your hands could caress her face once more. The weakened brunette, always so contumacious, never giving in, but she knew she had to, just this once, although, she was a great negotiator.

“Can I at least hold her in the stretcher?” There was always a fierceness in her eyes, Viv and Bruce knew that look all too well, but seeing her like this was different, the same knots in their backs that Jenna’s stubbornness caused were untied by her weakness, well in Jenna’s eyes, her weakness, but in reality, it was proof she’s just like any other citizen on the street, hurt and scared, in this moment, she wasn’t the most feared woman, wasn’t the crown heir to the Ortega family, she wasn’t a playboy, she wasn’t egotistical, she wasn’t arrogant, she was just Jenna.

“Oh, baby, I don’t thin-.”

“Of-course, you can Jenna, I just need to to be careful and still so I can take her vitals administer an IV.” Kaman, the head doctor of the towers, cuts in.

“I promise.”

As the two of you are whisked away into a nearby elevator, Viv and Bruce stay back, as much as they wanted to accompany their friends, they knew they had a job to do, they couldn’t let the family fall, not when Jenna needs them most, and so with unspoken words, the two of them knew exactly what to do. Bruce manning a team of soldiers, investigating what happened and who caused this mess, and Viv staying remote collecting intel from Bruce whilst trying to hold the integrity of the tower when their leader has fallen. Temporarily of course, hopefully.

~~

Ignorance is bliss is the saying, and Bruce so wanted to bathe in this bliss, the bliss where he doesn’t find out what happened to you, his demeanour paints itself as large rottweiler, physically, his brute strength would scare any normal human being away but, on the inside, he had a heart as strong as the winds on top of mountains.

For you, his heart welcomed you in, he won’t ever admit it to Jenna, only because she’d deny it, but when he senses Jenna truly cares for someone, his love and care automatically calls out for that same person. His overprotectiveness over you blames himself slightly for what happened, but not as much as Jenna did.

“Bruce, we found y/n’s blood and smashed up cameras from across the street and corners, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” His flat tone masking the fact he’s trying his best to hold everything. “Were you guys able to find anything else?”

“Right, and unfortunately not.”

Bruce sighs deeply with remorse, “shit, wait okay, okay, get the smashed cameras to Ammo in tech, she’s savvy with these things, it’s slim, but we have to try.”

One of his soldiers’ nods and the rest start collecting fragments of evidence alongside the actual cameras. “Hey Viv, we might have something, meet me on Ammo’s floor, she might be able to resurrect the SD card from the cameras.”

~~

As much as she wanted to stay, the force of her wanted to leave, Jenna held you for so long, but she got so lost in the pain, she forgot the copious amount of regret and guilt she’d feel when you woke up and saw her face, you told her you hate her, but did you mean it? Either way, she wanted nothing to do with these feelings, you’re better off waking up next to someone you love.

“Jenna?” Kaman, looks up from you after doing her regular check, “where are you going, sweetie, doctor intuition tells me she’ll be waking up soon.”

“Out.” Her body was shutting her heart down, her brain is in control now and maybe it should’ve stayed in control, not passing on the torch to her heart, a lot of regret wouldn’t have existed if that were the case. Jenna grits her teeth and lets out a breath through the minuscule gaps between, “I’m calling Solana, her best friend, she deserves to know what happened, and she,” now pointing at you with her forehead, eyebrows “she deserves someone else here.”

“You’re running away again, Jenna.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Jenna bites back.

“Stay.”

“That’s not an option.” Jenna, now using a tone you’d only hear from a mother. Before Kaman could say anything else, the space between you and her had been closed off, and that wasn’t the only thing restrictive.

There was something about the night ambiance that always provided fresh air, each molecule of oxygen that raced through her body was pure, antonymous with the blood spilt over the years as a result of her hands.

Hello? Who is this?

Hi Solana, sorry for the late-night call but something happened, oh, it’s Jenna by the way.

Though it was over the phone, Jenna could feel Sol’s heart drop.

OH! Jenna, hi, Sol is fine by the way, is y/n okay? I’ve been trying to reach her, but I can’t seem to get a hold of her.

There was an accident… Can you come to the towers?

Fuck, okay, I’m on my way.

Once Sol walks into, Jenna is greeted with a heavy heart, yet a kind smile. “Is she okay?”

“She will be, she’s going to wake up soon, she’ll want you there, just head up to the floor marked with H.”

“Aren’t you coming with?”

At this very moment, something clouded the air, you couldn’t see it, feel it nor smell it but something in the air that made Jenna retain why she’s not going up with Sol, “she needs you, not me and plus, I have to do something.” That last line was a ramble, she didn’t have to do anything, not at this very moment, but she couldn’t go see you. Couldn’t or won’t?

Sol sighs and takes a step towards Jenna, “okay,” the mafia queen had never been easy to read, no one knew what went on inside of her, but tonight, Sol read her like a novel, but she didn’t want to push. “You know,” caressing Jenna’s hand “whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault, Jenna, no one blames you.” Jenna didn’t have the courage to look at Sol in the eyes, all she could muster up was “y/n does.”

“I’ve known her for years, I share a soul with her, pun intended,” trying to make Jenna smile, but Sol is sure that joke flew over her head, “she doesn’t blame you.” Sol’s last attempt to console Jenna and try to convince her to come up but stubborn is Jenna’s middle name, so all she could give Sol was a headshake and a smile as the elevator doors close.

Maybe I should go to her. A constant thought that flooded Jenna’s mind but in the split second where she was about to press the button marked ‘H’ on the elevator, a text from Viv telling her to meet them on the tech floor came through, directing her finger towards the button marked ‘T’ instead.

Walking into the office, Jenna’s fist immediately clenches up at the sight of smashed up cameras with intricate wires tangled up within each other. “For the sake of everyone in the city, PLEASE tell me you’ve found something,” there was desperation in her tone, she wanted to throw the closest object across the room but the breath she takes seems to calm her down enough to hear her little posse out.

Like Alvin and the Chipmunks, Bruce, Viv, and Ammo avert their gaze from the screen to Jenna, “this right here is why you pay me six figures.” Ammo retorts, making Jenna giggle a bit, the first time a positive sound escaped her mouth since finding out you were hurt.

“Alright, no need to boast, especially when I make 10.” Jenna smirks and Ammo rolls her eyes.

“How’s y/n?” Viv says with concern.

“Ah, she’s great?” There was some hesitation when she answered, truthfully, she doesn’t know how you are, when she left you, you were stable, but she doesn’t know how you are. “I’m not really sure, Sol is up with her, and I got a text from Kaman that she woke up when I was on the way up.”

“And you’re not there?” Viv exclaims with such flash.

“She won’t want me there.”

Viv inflates her cheeks to the brim with air before letting out a huff, “Ammo, will you please pass me the magazine on your desk.” As no words were exchanged, Viv starts to roll up the paper and trains her eyes at Jenna, no one knew what was going to happen next.

“BAD, JENNA, BAD.” Viv screams as she knocks Jenna on the head with the magazine, at the same time, Jenna extends her arms above her head, flinching away at every hit as a way to protect herself.

“VIV?” Jenna squeals, “what was that for?” she then questions whilst Bruce and Ammo try so hard not to laugh as tears form in their eyes.

“That’s for being here, waltzing around like an idiot when you should be waltzing around like an idiot up there,” Viv pointer finger erects up, “you know, with y/n?”

“I just- she doesn’t, she hates? Aw for fucks sake, just show the video, stop lingering on me.” Jenna commands, not wanting to talk about her feelings, and definitely not wanting to talk about her feelings for you. What feelings? Does she even have feelings for you?

“Are you sure? It’s a bit, well you know.” Viv informs.

“How much blood have I washed from my hands?” Jenna bites back.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have feelings for said blood.” Viv points out, making Bruce and Ammo scoff out a laugh.

“What? I don’t have feelings for y/n!” Jenna starts getting all defensive and in unison just like the chipmunks, the group of three goes “mhmhm.”

“Ugh, whatever, just play the video.” As the video plays, Jenna watches what that night was like for you, in clear technicolour, how the man had followed you like a predator set on his prey. And as his palm lands on your face, she squirms, she doesn’t want to go on, she doesn’t want to see you like this. No amount of violence she had witnessed and caused could ever prepare her for what she was watching.

JENNA! JENNA! PLEASE, JENNA, PLEASE, JUST STOP!

The colour drained from Jenna’s face as quickly as the rage set in, once she heard the first syllable of her name, she knew you were calling out to her and it was all too much for her, there was water setting on her tongue, if she saw anymore, she was sure she’d throw up everywhere. Jenna rushes out the office, accidentally slamming the glass door behind her, drawing the attention of the other tech workers to her, but their gazes quickly returned to their screens as they realise who they were staring at.

“Jenna, are you okay?” Viv asks as she closes the door behind her, Jenna couldn’t hold eye contact with her, too scared that tears would start streaming down her face if she had seen the softness of Viv’s face; concerned for her dear friend.

“I’m fine.” The words just barely making it through her teeth.

“You’re not, and that’s okay, I just need you to tell me what’s going on through your head, this entire tower is your family, we can help.”

“She-” Jenna croaks, “she called for me, Vivica.” Using her full name, this indicated she was an even bigger mess than anyone anticipated, Jenna would use ‘Vivica’ when things got too serious, too overwhelming, and those times barely existed, Viv greeting her name like a stranger. “She called for me and I wasn’t there, I couldn’t save her.”

Placing a firm grip on both her shoulders, Viv comforts Jenna, “Jenna, look at me, there was nothing you could do in that moment to help her, get that through your thick skull.” Jenna huffs out a deep sigh, “but.” “No buts, stop blaming yourself, and you did save her, she’s alive because you took her in.” Viv reassures.

“Okay.” Jenna didn’t want to ‘okay’ this conversation, especially when she herself wasn’t okay. But that was all she could muster up at this moment.

“Okay. Now tell me what you need.”

“I need to find that man and kill him.” An ‘o’ shape forms Viv’s mouth, but she doesn’t know why she’s surprised, this was the most logical solution for Jenna. “No, not kill, that’d be giving him mercy, I want to hurt him so bad he wishes he was never born.” There was such fury in Jenna’s eyes, a fury no one had ever seen, not even Viv, but she understood, she shared that same fury, it was the same with Bruce, but Jenna held most of the fire, she conjured it.

“Okay, okay, that’s on brand, but before you go out and hunt him down and we feed you information, you should know, this wasn’t a random attack, the van that ended up picking him and her up, ultimately dropping her off at our feet was Marcello.”

“Gio did this?” The fire only growing stronger at the realisation that Gio was using you as a manipulation tactic to see her fall, to make her weak, vulnerable.

“Unfortunately, so he may be guarded.”

“He won’t, he’s a useless pawn to Gio, and I’m assuming he wasn’t supposed to hurt her that bad.”

~~

As Jenna heads down to the garage, everyone at their stations waiting to give Jenna information on Jameson’s whereabouts, Jenna ends up running into a frantic Sol. “Sol? Are you okay?”

“Jenna! Just the girl I was looking for, y/n’s awake, she’s doing great and she’s looking for you.” Jenna wishes she had never run into Sol, the guilt she buried about how she wasn’t there when you woke up was slowly making its way back up to the surface and that same feeling of saliva settling on her tongue was back again.

“I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“You’re not coming to see her?”

Before Jenna could answer, adding onto the guilt that harbours her, Sol had once more read Jenna and the twitch in her eyes, the pursed lips and the disconnected eye contact told her all she needed to know. “I wish you believed that this isn’t your fault.”

“Me too,” Jenna smiles at her, “later, when she’s well enough, I want her to recover in my penthouse, I’ll have people set up the guest bedroom, it’ll give me peace of mind that she’s here with m-, with uh, you know protection.”

Sol tries to hide her smirk at Jenna’s slight mistake where she was supposed to say ‘me,’ where she wanted to say ‘me,’ “that’s very sweet of you, it’ll give me some peace of mind too.”

“If you want, I can have another room set up for you?” Jenna kindly offers.

“OH, no, that’s very sweet, but I don’t want to intrude, and plus I have a business to run and I’m not in any danger, thank you though.”

“Of-course, just let me know if you change your mind, and the only thing that poses a danger to you is TMZ stealing your work.” Jenna winks, making Sol laugh, before heading towards her personal garage, separate the the tower’s garage.

Which car today? She thinks to herself, “take the GT3, perfect for a 1am cruise, we can see you wallowing in indecisiveness, this is a problem only you’d have by the way.” Viv speaks, coming from Jenna’s ear piece.

“Heh, you’re right the irish green GT3 is perfect for a 1am cruise, though this won’t be a cruise, more like sweet, sweet revenge.”

“Yuck, never say that again, this isn’t a movie.”

“Hmm, kinda is, but maybe more like a book.”

~~

As you wait for Sol to get back from her little quest, you can’t help but wonder if it’ll just be Sol walking through the doors or will Jenna accompany her. Despite being beaten to a pulp, you remembered everything, you’ve always had a stellar memory and despite all the hurt and pain, there was something about the warmth Jenna encased you in whilst in your arms that washed away the pain, each beat of your heart was in sync with hers and for once she wasn’t the most feared woman in America, she was Jenna.

Just Jenna, with the ability to be vulnerable like everybody else. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, waking up to the lack of her warmth ached you, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t grateful and relieved to see Sol by your side, but deep down your heart longed to be in sync with hers again.

“Hi, my sweet one.”

“Sol!” And only Sol walked through the doors, leaving you deflated, not realising you displayed your disappointment for Sol to see.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise, it’s okay, I just thought, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“It really isn’t y/n.” Sol takes a seat by your leg on your bed.

“I just want to thank her.”

“She knows you’re thankful, what you really want is her, or do you still hate her?” Sol teases.

You hmph, “I don’t want her.” Is that a lie, y/n? “And I don’t necessarily hate her.”

“Hm, okay, whatever makes you sleep at night, however, if you don’t hate her, why’d you tell her otherwise?”

“You heard about that?”

“Whole tower at this point.”

“I feel like this is karma for being a journalist,” you two share a laugh, taking a deep breath, you confess, “when I ran into her at the mall, she had told me to tell her that I hate her, if I told her that, she would leave me alone, when I told her I hate her, I didn’t mean it in a spiteful way, I meant it in a I don’t want to be a burden to you way, because I knew she would stop at nothing to hurt whoever did this to me, I couldn’t let her get hurt on behalf of me, get hurt in general.”

Viv and Bruce heard all of that through the door so when they walk in, Viv couldn’t help but make a remark, “aw, you do care about her.”

Your face lights up at the sight of your friends, “unfortunately,” you joke.

“How’re ya doing kid?” Bruce speaks first, which surprises everyone in the room.

“I’m doing better, you?”

“I’m not the one who got hurt.”

“Not physically.” Your statement makes Bruce bow his head down a bit, confirming your words to be true.

“I’ll be okay.” He smiles.

“Viv?”

“I’ll be okay too, I’m just glad you’re doing better.” She walks up to you and gives you a tight squeeze.

“OH!” You remember that there was a high possibility Sol and the other two have never met before, “this is Sol, my everything.” Sol smiles and holds your hand.

“Yes, hi, hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Viv sticks out her hand and Sol gracefully accepts.

“Please, pleasure’s all mine, thank you for taking care of her.” Sol giggles at her, “and nice to meet you too, uh?” She turns to Bruce.

Bruce tips his head at her like a mini curtsy, a gentleman he is, “Bruce, ma’am.” Another smile from Sol.

“I don’t mean to interrupt introductions here, but is Jenna around?” You gather up the courage to ask.

“She’s on her way back to the towers.” Viv answers.

“From where?”

“I’ll leave that to her to explain.”

“But let’s not focus on her right now.” Easier said than done. “Jenna is offering you a guest bedroom upstairs to recover in, and trust me, this room may be amazing, but nothing compares to her penthouse.”

“That’s very generous of her, and yeah, whew, her penthouse is something else, she’ll be back soon, right?”

“I’m sure of it.” Viv reassures.

~~

Despite her small stature, Jenna was incredibly strong, evident as she drags a 6ft tall, unconscious man into the elevator as they head towards the dark rooms of the tower, underneath the city, where if Jenna wanted something from an individual, she’d get it.

As they reach the one of the underground levels, the elevator door opens and Jenna is greeted by Viv and Bruce, they wanted to bring a few soldiers, but Jenna insisted this had to be done privately, there was something poetic about her doing this where no one could hear his screams, the same way no one heard yours.

“Here Bruce, take him and tie him down to the chair and wake him up.” Jenna commands, the fury she once welcomed in, back and angrier than ever.

Once Jameson wakes up, his eyes are met with a fiery brown. “Speak.” He laughs at her attempt to be intimidating, “Oh? We’re laughing I see, let’s see if those teeth will still be there when you laugh after I’m done with you.” Jenna balls up her fist and with so much might, punches him in the jaw, knocking him to the side a bit, immediately drawing blood out of his nose and gums.

“That all you got?” He challenges, “I made your little pet scream more.” That was it, that was Jenna’s last straw, no one knows what possessed her, but no one was mad about it, she claw gripped his throat, throwing punches at every part of his face, his blood splattering all over the place, painting Jenna’s white button up, the first 3 buttons now undone from the roughness she delivered.

And with every grin, laugh, snarky remark Jameson displays, Jenna’s punches got harder, one punch being so hard, he falls backwards taking Jenna down with him. Jameson was strong but Jenna was stronger, “Gio was right, y/n does have you wrapped around her finger.”

With one final blow, she nearly renders him unconscious, as she leaps up from him, Jenna mumbles “you don’t get to say her name.”

“Calm down, tiger,” he mutters as the blood pools up in his mouth, spitting it out he continues “she’s not who you think she is, not the angel you see her as.”

Having had enough, she gives him one last hurt, a kick to his ribs, almost promising she broke it as she heard something crack, swiftly followed by a blood curdling scream. “Take him away, deliver him back to Gio but make him crawl his way to him.” With no hesitation, Bruce unties him and drags him away, at Jenna’s side, Viv hands her sanitizing products to clean the blood off her hands, “go, y/n needs you, I can clean this up.” Like Bruce, Jenna leaves with no hesitation, she was a full-blown storm and she needed you to calm her waters down.

~~

Though it was nearly 3am, you had no interest in sleep, instead, you were lost in the silence of the penthouse, being so high up the business of the streets beneath you could not be heard. You thought about the last time you were here, the only time you had been here, before tonight, maybe you were a bit harsh, maybe she deserved it.

As you think about what might’ve happened if you didn’t reject Jenna’s advances, the silence around you allows you to hear an elevator coming up, hopping up quickly, to the best of your ability, you breathe through the stinging pain from your healing body and head out.

“Jenna?” You see a beaten-up Jenna staring at you, fresh from the elevator, only making a couple steps into her penthouse. Though she looked beaten up, the undone buttons, blood splatter all over her shirt, untuck and ruffled up, you knew she wasn’t the one who took the pain, rather, she was the one who gave it. “Jenna?” You say again, hoping this time, your voice would knock her out of her dissociative trance.

“Y/n.” Was all she could mutter out.

You walk closer to her, being inches away from her face, body warmth radiating, your hearts in sync once more, you get déjà vu as this replicates the first night you met her, something about her brown eyes gazing into your soul, as if she were reading every atom in you to know you. “Y/n.” Jenna jolts awake, “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t see me like this.” But before she could turn and leave, you grab her wrist stopping her.

“Stay with me, I don’t want you to leave.”

She slowly grazes her face to yours, her eyes now closed and so are yours, both noses hug each other like a puzzle piece, the speed of your heart now rising to a point you swear it was going to electrocute the both of you from all that static rush, but what Jenna says next would stop your heart.

“Kiss me.”

~~

a/n: did anyone catch the slight 4th wall break and the cigarettes after sex reference hehe. GOODNIGHT OMG IT’S 7AM😭🫶🏽 also smut in ch4 instead of 3 won by like 1 vote 💀

TAGLIST: @somegaybae @omega-horus @lonelym00n @iamthewoe @dksjskx @lazyturtle0-0 @jess-1-e @zaclewiss @lostgirl1415 @pitifulbinx @talialeih @amessbian @aiakum @user173781 @dvrkhcld @urmajestyalex

[cantstoplovingjude]

Underneath the Black Veil: Jude Jazza Premium

This is from Ikemen Villains EN, Cybird owns everything.

(What a disgustin' place.)

I cursed inwardly in front of the church altar after I put all the followers to sleep.

(Why the hell would I bind myself in an eternal promise to someone else, as if that made anythin' better?)

(A vow of love's nothin' more than a curse.)

(What's so great 'bout cursing each other to stick together in sickness or in health?)

The sacred atmosphere, the solemn sound of the organ, the sweet fragrance of the flowers... It all seemed cursed to me.

No "vow" could ever be considered beautiful.

Not for me, anyway.

Just then, the door opened and Kate appeared, wearing a jet-black dress.

(Damn, she looks nervous.)

I watched as she pressed her lips together and looked at me.

The moment our eyes met, a strange look came over her face.

(What's that all about?)

She got this dreamy look in her eyes, like she had a fever or something.

And she began to slowly walk down the aisle toward me.

(Ha...)

(What an idiot. Don't tell me ya got caught up in the moment?)

(Sometimes she's so damned stupid I actually worry about her.)

Jude: "What're ya doin', facial exercises?"

Kate: "Huh?"

It was like she didn't even realize she'd reached the altar until I said something.

She just blinked at me.

(She took on the daft job of being Fairytale Keeper 'n so far she's kept her promise.)

(What a hopeless princess.)

She stood there in her wedding dress, looking utterly defenseless.

The thought crossed my mind that I could tear her to shreds in an instant if I wanted to.

Jude: "Lookin' like you're on another planet. Sure ya wanna get hitched?"

Just then, a gentle-looking man with long hair and glasses appeared.

(Must be the leader.)

Man with glasses: "We are gathered together today to celebrate the true love between our new followers."

Amore: "My name is Amore, the leader of Amour. I am a servant of love, who will grant your love eternal."

(This git's a total nutter.)

He made all these exaggerated gestures while he spoke like some kind of dimwit.

It was so creepy I was getting goosebumps.

(Could just shut him up right now by puttin' him to sleep.)

(But I've gone to way too much trouble. I won't be satisfied till tease her a bit.)

I remembered the investigation report I read on the way here.

("The lovers are most likely poisoned somehow once they take their vows.")

In that case...

(An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. And poison for poison.)

Amore: "Now, there is no need for vows between two people who truly love each other."

Amore: "So if you pledge your eternal love, close your eyes and seal that pledge with a kiss."

Kate: "...O-oh."

Kate's breath caught in her throat.

(Why's she so flustered when she knows we're not gonna actually do it?)

I grabbed her chin and felt her tense up beneath my touch.

And when I pulled her closer, her eyes were so big you'd think they were gonna fall out of her head.

Kate: "Ah..."

Jude: "Hm."

(Look up at me, princess. I'll move my face close to make it seem like we're kissin'.)

Her cheeks slowly turned red as she tipped her face up toward me.

(...Huh?)

(Does she really think I'm gonna kiss her?)

I stared at her in disbelief, watching as her lips trembled.

I could tell she was a nervous wreck.

But even still, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

(Hah...)

(I didn't think even she was this foolish.)

-Flashback-

Kate: "I'm sure lots of people don't actually believe that their love will last forever just because they exchange vows and have a ceremony in a church."

Kate: "But what's important is that they tell each other they intend to keep those vows."

Kate: "And when they think they might break their vows, they'll remember that day when they swore to each other."

Kate: "And maybe that'll keep them going to try to find a solution."

-Flashback ends-

So naive it made me wanna throw up.

But it probably sounded like the truth to her.

(Stupidly honest, ridiculously obedient and to good for this world.)

(A princess who never knew hardship in her life, who truly believed in her ridiculous naivete.)

(To think a woman like her would swear to stay with me forever... What a joke.)

I envied her for believing in such ridiculous positivity...

But at the same time, the sadistic side of me wanted to ruin it for her just to make her understand.

Jude: "...Ya actually closed your eyes?"

Kate: "Yes?"

Her eyes, which had been closed to accept the kiss, fluttered open.

Jude: "Ya really are an idiot."

I stared into her wide eyes as I brushed my lips against hers.

Her body trembled as she stared at me in shock.

Kate: "A-ahh..."

Jude: "Pfft, look at that dumb face."

(Maybe this'll teach her a lesson for once.)

Amore: "Well, then. I hereby recognize you as husband and wife. Now I shall make your love eternal."

Amore: "Pour this wine into each other's mouths."

Amore dramatically took out two wine glasses.

Jude: "So, this your secret remedy for makin' love eternal, huh?"

Amore: "Yes, that's right."

I was certain the wine was poisoned.

(Haha. What a nice smile.)

I started to feel excited when I pictured that smile distorting with pain.

Jude: "By the way, didja know your waiters spilled water on us today?"

Amore: "...Huh?"

I poured the wine over his head, drenching him.

I aimed just so that I could be sure it would go into his eyes, nose, and mouth.

Amore: "Bwaaah?!"

He immediately became distraught and rushed to the cupboard by the altar.

Kate: "What in the world is he doing?"

Jude: "Lookin' for the antidote, I'd bet."

Kate: "Antidote...?"

The color drained out of her face.

She must've put two and two together about the wine.

Kate: "How did you know?"

Jude: "I read Victor's report on the way here."

She stared at me as if to say this was the first she'd heard of it.

(Course it is, 'cuz I didn't tell ya.)

(If I'd told her, she would've blurted out somethin' stupid anyway.)

I ignored her gaze as I walked over to Amore as he took out a vial from the cupboard.

And I grabbed his wrist before he could open it.

Jude: "Ya ever heard of gettin' a taste of your own medicine? That's what ya deserve for makin' other people suffer."

Jude: "Why'd ya get to live while others die? Selfish piece of shit."

Amore: "Ugh... arghhh!"

(I can make ya scream even louder.)

(The poison must be taking effect.)

Amore: "Th-there's no time! Let me go! P-please, I'll do anything!"

Jude: "Anythin'? All right. How 'bout we sign a contract?"

Jude: "A contract to do whatever the hell I say till ya die. You'll make that vow, won't ya?"

After I saw him nod, I let go of his wrist.

He looked so frantic I almost laughed as he gulped down the antidote.

(Yeah, yeah. Nice job.)

I poked his forehead with my fingertips.

And, with my ability, he instantly dropped to the floor in a deep sleep.

Kate: "What do you plan on doing with him?"

Jude: "Haven't decided yet."

I looked down at the leader, who lay on the floor.

(Could use him for experiments, throw him onto a cargo ship...)

Kate: "Hey, where are all the followers, anyway?"

Jude: "Dreamin'. Even the guy playin' the organ went down in the middle."

(At any rate, the mission was a success.)

(That's what she's probably thinkin'.)

I let out an exasperated sigh when I heard her sigh with relief.

Jude: "Had no idea ya were 'bout to sign a dangerous contract, huh?"

Kate: "What?"

She blinked at me and tipped her head cutely to the side.

(Did she already forget what happened?)

(She's more dangerous than I thought.)

(How in the world did she manage to survive this long?)

Jude: "The whole, if ya wanna pledge your eternal love, close your eyes deal."

Jude: "Ya closed your eyes. So ya wanna spend the rest of your life gettin' tortured by me, huh?"

She took about five seconds, and then it finally hit her.

Even her neck turned bright red this time.

Kate: "I thought we had to kiss so you could have a chance to catch him!"

Jude: "All ya had to do was just lean in close 'n we coulda pretended to kiss."

Kate: "B-but then why did you kiss me?!"

Kate: "You should've just pretended, then!"

Jude: "Wanted to see that ridiculous look on your face after."

(Even if it's fake, sealin' your vows with a kiss is a daft idea. That's your punishment for going along with it so easily.)

Jude: "Don't worry. I had no intention of closin' MY eyes."

Kate: "That's not why I closed my eyes!"

Jude: "Uh-huh. Sure."

Her face was still bright red, but now she was speechless and shaking.

(Damn. I love that face. It's the cutest thing.)

Jude: "That ain't the kinda face a blushin' bride makes."

Kate: "I am NOT your bride!"

I wondered how much of this rubbish world I'd have to show her... in order to make that pretty face of hers distort with despair.

(For some reason, I can't even picture it.)

Instead, I pictured her standing proudly, glaring at the harsh reality even if she was covered in filth.

And something stupid tingled deep inside my stomach.

End Premium

[clairesvalentine]

MILEENA DATING A MUSICIAN!READER

🗡️ mileena x musician!reader

PROMPT: mileena with a partner who sings and writes music

i’ve been having so much fun writing these headcanons! i have so much more in store. thank you for all the support so far! it means so much to me ☺️💗 this was supposed to be a shorter, in general type of head canon but i got too carried away... oops.

— mileena has never been with someone like you. yes, music existed in outworld but not in the way you made it. you had so many instruments and so many different melodies. melodies that often made it’s way into her head.

— it truly was the best thing for mileena. if she heard you strumming your guitar or fiddling with the keys on your keyboard, she’d stop and listen.

— a few months before you two started dating, mileena saw you in the royal garden strumming away on your guitar. it was a moment of silence for the amount of chaos you had in your life. you felt an overwhelmingly amount of peace.

— you noticed this and always made sure to bring your guitar whenever you made your way to outworld.

— mileena would be so entranced with your playing, staring at you intently as you played.

— you smiled up at her, keeping your fingers on the strings. “would you like to try, princess?” you asked, handing the instrument over to her.

— mileena looked a bit startled, immediately being taken out of her trance. “oh… but i don’t know how to play.” she admitted sheepishly, her cheeks heating up ever so slightly.

— “i can teach you.” you reassured, patting the space empty space beside you.

— mileena hesitated a bit before sitting beside you. you smiled at her scooting a bit closer to her, so you could help her.

— you carefully put the guitar in her arms, while your hands hovered over hers. mileena’s breath hitched ever so slightly.

— “is this okay?” you asked softly, not wanting to make the princess uncomfortable.

— mileena just nodded, looking down at the instrument in her arms. “what do i do now?” she asked, eager to learn.

— “for starters, you have to relax your shoulders. it’s not going to bite you.” you joked. you carefully removed your hands from hers, placing them on her shoulders.

— mileena blushed deeply, feeling herself relax at your touch.

— as you showed her the notes, she played along. she played a bit clunky but just enough to hear the melody of the song you were writing. l

— “(name), this song is absolutely incredible! i have never heard a melody as beautiful as this one.” mileena gushed, marveled by what she heard.

— it was your turn to blush. mileena liked your song. the future empress of outworld liked your song. it didn’t have a name nor were you finished, however, this was already your favorite song that you have written.

— “we must show everyone at the feast tonight! everyone needs to hear this song!” mileena concurred, a smile on her face. she needed her people to hear how wonderful of a musician you were.

— you grew flustered, immediately shaking her head. “forgive me, your highness but i can’t. the song isn’t finished and i don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of your people.”

— though disappointed, she didn’t want to pressure you. she understood. she liked to perfect her craft as well. besides, most outworlders weren’t friendly to the earthrealmers that came here. she would hate for you to be embarrassed.

— as time moves by, you and mileena grow closer and closer. unfortunately, this is towards the end of your time in outworld. you two are hurt and just beside yourselves. you have both been going on secret dates, often exploring outworld in secret.

— mileena was now your everything, as were you hers. due to the tournament ending, your hearts were going to be shattered. it was hopeless. you had no way to enter earth realm without liu king's portal and sindel would never allow her daughter, the future empress to be in a romantic relationship with an earthrealmer.

— on your last night, you decide to write her a song. something she could remember you by, just in case the two of you never see each other again.

— on that night, you carefully sneak your way into the palace and up into mileena's room. you opened the door, resulting in mileena to jump up from her bed.

— "my dearest (name). what are you doing here?? you being up here is a risk." mileena scolded in a whisper. if her mother found out you were in her room, things would not be okay.

— "i know, i know... this is just too important. i had to see you urgently." you replied, reaching into your pocket. mileena watched you, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion once you pulled out a piece of paper.

— "what is that?" mileena inquired, tilting her head to the side once you handed the paper to her. mileena retrieved the paper into her hands, opening it up. her confused demeanor drops and turns into a softer and happier one. you had finished the song you were composing when you and mileena first met.

— tears welled up in her eyes as she read each lyric. the title of the song was "to my dearest mileena." you wrote a song for her. no one had ever done such a thing for the princess. it was oh so special to her.

— "i don't know when we'll ever meet again, so i wanted to give you this. just a little something to remember me by." you let out in a wavered voice, tears starting to fall from your face.

— mileena let out a small cry, wrapping her arms around you snugly. "i will never forget you. we will reunite again... nothing will split us apart." mileena whispered, placing her chin on your shoulder. outworld and earth realm were worlds apart, but that wasn't going to stop mileena.

[frogs00]

Yellow roses

Summary: Janis has a bad time. It’s hard to explain.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT- Angst, mention of cutting, use of marijuana, crying, Regina gets hit by a bus, mentions of shit home-life! Swearing! Read at your own risk.

Pairings: Janis has a date to the dance, Janis x Regina (Not really)

Janis heard a bus screeched past her along with a large thud. Her eyes flashed. Thousands of thoughts passed her mind.

Who was behind me last? Cady? Shit! It was Cady!

She swung around, and saw Cady safe, she also heard screaming, and yelling and….

Regina was hit.

Her mouth fell open and she felt her stomach drop. 

She had been praying for Regina’s downfall for years, years of trauma. Years of cutting, crying, hating. Years wondering what she could do to end her.  Because her best friend, her lifeline, the only thing that was ever hers, betrayed her. 

But not like this, never like this. She didn’t want Regina to die, she couldn’t die.

Janis suddenly felt her previously stapled to the ground legs break into a run. Clawing her way through the mass of people, she heard ambulances blaring in the far distance.

“Regina! Gina!” She basically screamed and she pushed through the crowd, she felt tears spring to her eyes.

She was almost there, she saw her, she was laying on the ground, she saw blood…

She felt someone grab her by her waist and haul her back, she thrashed in their arms.

“I need to get to her, she can’t die!” She yelled, but it was no use, “That bitch can’t die!” 

“Janis!” Damian’s voice rang in her mind. Somewhere distant, she realized she was now clutching her chest, holding her breath.

“Janis!” it yelled again.

Focus on the voice.

“Janis!” she went limp in their arms, realizing now it was Damian.

“Janis! Janis, breath!” She exhaled, her eyes glued to the mass that was disappearing among many, many people.

The Ambulance cut through the now dispersing crowd like butter, and she felt herself being dragged out of the way. Paramedics filed out of it instantly.

Thin tears ran down her face, she felt weak, she felt hopeless, she felt numb.

“Janis,” Damian said again, sitting her down on the nearby grass, now holding her face, “Janis are you there?”

She wasn’t, she hadn’t been for awhile, she was blinded by this idea of revenge and now…

“This is my fault.” she croaked. Damian shook his head and brought her into a hug, which she didn’t return. She was frozen.

“It’s not your fault,” she distantly heard his voice whisper, “Regina will be fine.”

It’s my fault.

—

Janis straightened the tie on her suit. She looked good. She looked amazing. Did she feel amazing? Sort of. 

Regina was alive. Thank some deity of some sort for that. 

She was not to blame for her 15 second death. Not to blame for the incident at all. When she thought that during her very public breakdown, she was delirious and grieving… Totally.

(The bags under her eyes said otherwise.)

She had comforted herself with that idea for weeks. She had a beautiful date, and was going to forget it all for the night. The bus-incident, Cady, everything.

She didn’t even want to see Cady, and she wouldn’t see Regina, since she most likely wasn’t going to the dance.

Still, she visited Regina at the hospital for closure, and brought her her favorite flowers. Yellow roses. They were a symbol of friendship. Although, she didn’t think that’s why she liked them so much.

Friendship.

She didn’t want that from Regina. Though she couldn't hate her anymore, completely at least. 

Plus, Regina could never know she was there, when she was there she was zonked on painkillers, and in agony. A state she never thought she’d see the blonde in.

She took half weed gummy to clear her mind.

She picked up the corsage, checked herself in the mirror once more, and headed off.

She would be okay.

–

She wasn’t okay, she was standing in a corner, her date was dancing with another girl at the moment (She didn’t mind so much, though.)

She was having fun, and she had almost gone the whole thing, throughout Cady’s speech and all, without even glancing at Regina. 

Yet, now, seeing the blonde struggle with lifting her glass to her lip was both funny, and heart-aching.

She rolled her eyes, tapping her foot.

Decision, decisions.

Her feet took her before her mind did, walking towards the blonde, and taking the cup from her hand gently. The tall girl looked up at her without tilting her head, confused and surprised. 

The surprised aspect was more evident though.

“Need some help?” She asked, trying to sound playful (and failing).

Regina grunted in response, and Janis brought the cup to her lips which Regina drank earnestly and made a very weird face that Janis snorted at.

Her smile faded instantly when she saw her glazed eyes.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered.

Regina looked at her again, “For what? Why is everyone saying that?” she said, her words slurred.

Janis shrugged, “I should go, bye G- Regina.” She felt a hand grab hers as soon as she turned away, and a hand on her hip pulled her closer.

“Don’t.” Regina huffed.

She froze awkwardly, as Regina pulled her closer to her. All the way to a point she was almost sitting on her lap, which she was careful not to do completely, but let it happen.

She felt a tug on her jacket, her eyes flickered that way before returning back to the high blonde. Janis patted her head gently, the closest she’s been to her in a long, long time.

She felt like a little kid. Which may sound pleasant, but all she could remember was whispering on the phone to Regina while hiding it her cabinet as her parents fought, with tear stained cheeks.

Crash!

She heard, and snapped to attention, pulling out of her embrace, looking around, panicked. 

It sounded like glass was dropped. Like the time her father threw a vase at her mother and it missed her by an inch, hitting the wall beside her.

She saw some idiot had just dropped the punch  and looked down at a startled Regina.

“Sorry.” She laughed and relaxed. Offering the blonde a small, yet genuine smile. Regina acknowledged her with the wave of her hand.

“I got the roses by the way,” Regina murmured, after a moment of Janis standing awkwardly in place, “Yellow, my favorite. Thanks.”

“Yeah, Yellow roses.” She croaked and trailed off with a sad laugh, realizing she had left her name on the tag. She wasn’t supposed to know. 

A song, one she’d never listen to on her own, played, and someone grabbed her hand, “Come dance!”

It was her date.

She froze and looked at Regina as if asking if she could leave, who knows why she did that. The blonde nodded and waved her away, and she left.

Yellow-fucking-roses.

Please enjoy! Tag: @idontplaytrack

[cilil]

Headcanons: The Day of Love

I felt spontaneously inspired to write down my headcanons (yes, I've thought of this before a few times) for Valentine's Day in Valinor, or, as it's known there, the Day of Love, featuring both Ainur and Elves. Enjoy!

♡ The establishment of a dedicated holiday to celebrate couples and other forms of love and companionship was, as certain people (*cough* Melkor) would snidely remark in later ages, most likely inevitable due to Manwë being a hopeless romantic and Irmo's penchant for playing matchmaker (and subsequently winning bets he made with his wife and siblings).

♡ After Tulkas and Nessa were wed - within the circles of Arda, unlike the other Valar who espoused their partners earlier - Manwë was inspired to take action and create this holiday, as everyone had greatly enjoyed the festivities and many wished to have the opportunity to express their affection for their loved ones in a similar manner, without the pomp of a wedding.

♡ It was decided that the Day of Love would be in spring, as per Vána's suggestion. To this day, there's still some debate among the inhabitants of Valinor whether she simply thought the season was appropriate or whether she was making a thinly veiled mating season joke; the Ever-young, however, has declined to comment on this. It takes place in the month of Súlimë (March), much to the delight of Manwë, usually within the third week since this is (roughly) the beginning of the season, as determined by Yavanna and Vána.

♡ Over the ages, various traditions evolved. Among the first and most notable to this day is Manwë's poetry soirée, where everyone is invited to share their romantic poems and other writings - a special iteration of his regular writing group get-togethers that strives to be as inclusive and affirming as possible. Ever since the first Day of Love was celebrated, Manwë has written a new poem for his beloved queen every single year, and Varda shows her appreciation with breath-taking meteor showers. The event has naturally become important to the Vanyar in particular, especially those who are regulars among Manwë's fellow poetry enjoyers.

♡ Irmo and Estë take great pleasure in hosting a "casual tea time feast" (as described by the Lord of Lórien himself) that welcomes not only couples or friend groups, but also explicitly those who feel lonely on such a day and would like some easy company. While Estë and her Maiar serve herbal teas for health and good spirits and bake lots of delicious cakes and other treats, Irmo prepares his (in)famous punch which so far has never failed to get a party going and distributes special "love candy" that has also come under scrutiny a few times, but is still consumed with great delight by those who dare.

♡ Aside from (more or less) innocent tea party shenanigans, Irmo is wide awake on the Day of Love for different reasons as well, mutating into the kind of entity we know as Cupid. The use of arrows has been forbidden, but that does little to stop the Lord of Dreams and Desire from making his OTPs come true by providing a little bit of "assistance". He gleefully plants courage and inspiration into the hearts and minds of Ainur and Elves alike, so that they may finally confess those feelings they have been carrying around for too long. It has been alleged that he has attempted to play bingo with his brother in regards to these things coming to pass, yet nothing could be proven and Námo, as usual, was silent.

♡ Oromë, being in good spirits as hunting season is drawing near, likes to host a special hunting events where couples (and throuples and so on, naturally) can either compete against each other or team up to hunt and see if their love is strong enough to catch even the greatest prey. While it's all in good fun and the competitive side isn't taken seriously, Oromë and his people do hold the belief that the ability to work together and cooperate, as well as engaging in friendly, playful competitions without hostility or ill will, are important parts of a relationship of any kind and thus can be a good test for couples looking to get married in particular. It is also worth noting that the hunting duels of Aredhel and Celegorm have become particularly infamous and are to this day lauded as a great example.

♡ Tulkas, as always, is looking for a fun little fight and a good laugh, and those sharing his passion are welcome in his mansion for a special kind of celebration. Many Elves and Ainur alike seek to prove themselves in battle against their peers to win the affection and admiration of whoever they wish to court, as well as engage in friendly duels with their friends and loved ones. Making sure that everything is as fair as it can be, Tulkas presides over these fights with glowing pride and invites all participants to attend a great feast after.

♡ Said feast is usually coupled with a special performance by Nessa and her Maiar, as well as others who wish to join them, and afterwards everyone is invited to dance with their partners. It is not unusual for non-martially-inclined couples to spend their day elsewhere but attend Nessa's dance party in the evening, and oftentimes the lord and lady can also be seen on the dance floor together.

♡ For Yavanna and Vána, the Day of Love is yet another instance of their boundless generosity. The two Valier share their gifts and boons freely, providing flowers, fruits and materials for the crafting of presents; sometimes even advice to those who seek it. Year after year, their husbands show their gratitude - as well as vicariously for the rest of Valinor - by crafting and hunting special gifts for them, and it is said that the trees and flowers bloom even more beautifully on that day to celebrate their ladies' joy.

♡ Among the Elves, traditions are varied as well. Particularly famous is the pearl-diving of the Teleri, a test of both courage and skill where young and old lovers alike venture out into the sea and seek to find the most beautiful pearls to bring home to their partners. Ulmo gives his blessings freely to all who attempt such a feat and, together with his Maiar, makes sure that everyone returns home safely; over the years, many a daring Elf had to be fished out of more perilous waters. These pearls - and other treasures that were found - are particularly precious to the Teleri and objects crafted from or with them may even become family heirlooms.

♡ The Noldor, together with Aulë, Vairë and their Maiar, spend a lot of time before the Day of Love crafting wonderful gifts for their loved ones. These creations are a matter of great pride and may hold a lot of different, intricate meanings, often being a key component in courtship. Aside from all sorts of trinkets, couples are often seen exchanging promise jewelry. A particularly noteworthy occurrence over the years was the unveiling of a great Fëanor statue, made by none other than Nerdanel during their courtship, and to this day spectators claim that they have never seen Fëanor this speechless before or after.

♡ The Vanyar, aside from attending the festivities in Ilmarin, are also fond of music and love to sing or otherwise perform for their loved ones. Such performances are often done with special costumes and instruments, and the gifting of instruments is regarded as something especially intimate and meaningful. Those among the Maiar of Manwë and Varda who are not too fond of poetry like to join the Vanyar instead, offering their own songs and arts as entertainment. Eönwë and other avian Ainur are regularly asked for their feathers and even grow special plumage to accommodate these requests.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to take inspiration from these (though as always a little shout-out is appreciated if you create your own stuff based on this post ♡).

[akuma-tenshi]

tell me ur theories abt 100 epitaphs

had to go back to get screenshots bc i felt like i was going insane. so:

at the very beginning, during the lyrics "lay your emotions with them like a mourning wreath", there's a shot of kt's face on a headstone. which makes me believe she may have been terminated at some time during this whole thing and there's going to be a twist where yura gets into the facility with whoever the hell decides to join him only to learn she's been dead this whole time and all this was for nothing

my friend pointed this out when the video first came out but there's a shot of yura during the first chorus where he's surrounded by several mostly-unnamed characters when they say "another apathetic epitaph". iirc he's between kolya and nikita, both of whom are dead, and their faces are shown in frames, likely symbolising those photos that are displayed during funerals. which could very possibly foreshadow yura dying, probably during the mission to save kt.

olga being shown with flowers sprouting out of her does not give me hope for her. this is especially worrying considering the fact that she's shown in occam's razor during the line "but some ventures require a sacrificial lamb" - this could refer to her taking the fall for yura after the whole incident in the zone but it's still concerning. oddly enough i'm less confident in this than in my yura and kt dying theories bc it just doesn't feel like olga would die (wouldn't make sense or be satisfying from a narrative perspective) but it's still possible. if she doesn't die then she's definitely not coming out of this the same

this is not the last we've seen of sergei. this may just be wishful thinking (love that square......) and ik he basically just gave up on sanya. but anyone who's tried to help an especially difficult person will tell you it's not that easy to just let them go, especially considering that he's already done so much for her and still has skin in the game even if he does completely drop his sister (*gestures vaguely at that one drawing of him reading a book on "breaking your girlfriend out of jail" or smthn.... ik it's just a silly joke but i'd be fuckin hyped if we got sergei breaking olga out of prison). something tells me he's going to keep trying to influence things from afar without getting too invested; whether he'll keep trying to help sanya or just focus all his effort on olga, i'm not sure.

sanya is becoming another yura. she's getting more hopeless and desperate, not to save kt but to protect / help yura. she's doing crazier and crazier shit and has managed to stay in contact with him even though sergei tried to stop them from meeting. the shot of her laughing surrounded by candles, the shot of her sitting so nonchalantly against the wall talking to dima, the shot of her standing up to sergei to protect yura... she feels very yuracore and it worries me. also the shot of her strangling her past self, the one that was much more optimistic and bright yet sheltered.. any writer will tell you that having a character literally harm / kill their past self is the number one way of indicating that they're completely cutting off their past and moving on.

this is a very stupid theory but kolya isn't actually dead. he plays way more of a role in 100 epitaphs than he ever did before. and yes nikita has content too but there are just.. so many shots of kolya (the one that stands out most to me is of him sitting in the center of the screen with headphones on). he may not be the same person but like. what if the grinder didn't kill him?? what if he's alive, just far away from all this?? what if he comes back?? changed and injured but still kolya. ((god i hope i'm talking about the right person here if that isn't kolya i'm going to look like such a dumbass))

also the title "100 epitaphs" and the prominent presence of two (supposedly) dead characters.... it doesn't inspire confidence in a lot of these characters' chances of surviving.

sorry if some of this is incoherent or just downright weird, i've been up for a while. but i will always take up an opportunity to rant about this video it's had me positively ill. i was literally fucking shaking while typing this