#now the only question that remains is: who will be crying the hardest during that scene: Ed Stede or me?

[girlbossblackbeard]

in a completely non-joking, genuinely narrative and writing analysis way, i do seriously believe we may get to "see" stede and ed have sex this season. there have been 2 explicit and one kinda implied mentions/discussions of sex so far: the first is obviously when ed tells ghost Hornigold how two of the pros of choosing to live are "intercourse" (nerd) and orgasms. on the one hand, yes, that's an easy joke to make that will be sure to get a laugh out of it. on the other hand, the writers could have literally written anything else in the entire world. they have so many options for other jokes that would've landed just as well or better than what they went with, and yet they chose to have Ed mention those two things. how interesting. the second example is, of course, anne and mary ribbing Ed and Stede about them clearly not having sex or any sexual experiences with each other yet. again, there are sooooooo many ways the writers could drive home how deranged those two buckwild lesbians are and yet they went with the call out on the status of Ed and Stede doing it. very interesting indeed. The last, more amorphous example is Ed breaking his kiss with Stede and asking if they can take things slow. granted, that could be related to a bunch of different things that aren't sex related, however we know Stede has already basically confessed how in love with Ed he is to his face and they were already best friends basically as soon as they met each other, which starts to narrow down the options for what Ed is referring to pretty quickly. he also only broke the kiss after Stede grabbed Ed to intensify the kiss which further supports this theory. sooooo tl;dr - i think we're gonna see those two middle aged dads do it bc the writers have been seeing the seeds for the past 3 eps

[happiest-hotch]

Could we get an angsty blurb where BAUreader and Hotch (they're dating) get into a big fight because she feels betrayed that he didn't tell her about Emily being alive? Of course they make up at the end because i can't deal with sad endings🫣

i did this more as a sad fight thing because i feel like it hurts more, i hope that's okay

You don't talk to Aaron during the entire case. There's a lot to do, of course, but you're avoiding him more than you need to, and it's obvious to everyone. The team watching your reaction was secondary to Emily's appearance, but it was clear that while her death was manufactured by Aaron, you did not know.

The last thing time even you looked at him was right after Emily walked into the room, your eyes burning into him. It was a glare worst than he had ever seen, and it's all he can see now that everything's "okay" again. Declan's safe, Emily's safe and alive, but you're not sure anything will ever feel "okay" again.

"Can we talk about this?" Aaron finally breaks the silence once you get home. It was a long, awkward car ride, that's for sure.

You're so tired, and all your remaining energy is being channeled into anger. "What's there to talk about?"

"Why you're upset." He answers in an obvious tone.

You huff, still not looking at him. "I thought that would be kind of obvious, Aaron." You snarl, waving your hands in the air. "One of my best friends is alive, and you didn't have the decency to tell me."

"I couldn't." He tells you, taking the firm line you expected him to. The Unit Chief line.

"No." You shake your head. "You wouldn't."

He puts his bag down, following you through the apartment. You should have just gone to Penelope's. "Come on, Y/n. Be reasonable about this."

His words only fuel the burning rage inside you. "Reasonable? What's unreasonable about valuing trust in a relationship!?"

"What's unreasonable about having to follow government orders?" He sounds like a dick, and he knows it. Lying to you for months was much worse than when he last fucked up by letting his job rule his life.

"I used to love how dedicated you were to the BAU." You tell him. "I'm not sure I'll ever feel that way again." The heartbroken look in your eyes somehow breaks his heart, too, when you finally bring yourself to look at him. "Aaron, I know you did what you were ordered to. The problem is, if I saw you like how I was, knowing I'd lied, I would have broken, and I thought that's who you were, that your decision would be me over the rules."

You cried over it for so many nights, hot and heavy tears and sobs at the loss of your friend while he did everything to help you feel better. It was the hardest loss you'd faced, and it made you consider being in the BAU.

He knows you're right. He's in a terrible habit of doubling down when he's chosen his side in an argument. Helplessly, he stands there still.

"I don't know where we go from here." You admit, turning away from him to go to the bedroom. You need sleep or to cry or a hot shower. There are still so many feelings in your brain that you know you can't be making big decisions now.

"Would you ever trust me again?" Aaron gets your attention back with his sudden, soft question.

You don't know what to tell him. "That's the one most important non-negotiable for me."

Again. He'd done it again. Lost the most important woman in his life due to his job. At least Haley still trusted him, she just couldn't deal with the hours.

You weren't sure you had more tears left after everything, but you go to bed and break down. You love Aaron more than you've ever loved anyone, and you can't stop that now, no matter what he does.

He knows what he's done, but you don't halt your tears when he comes to bed to prevent him from feeling guilty.

He abandons his nighttime routine to get into bed, laying down next to you. You can feel him itching to touch you. When he finally does, you don't brush his gentle hand off your shoulder. "Baby." He coos. He's not sure what to say, just that he needs to say something, anything to fix this before you're gone.

"I know I can be without you." You say, still not turning over to face him. This is what he was trying to prepare himself for, a breakup speech, but it still knocks the breath out of his lungs. "I just don't want to."

It's his opening, the moment for him to jump in and catch you during your fall. "You don't have to."

You shift on the mattress, your face and body close enough you can feel how warm he is. "I need Honest Aaron." You inform him. "I don't know how we do that because there could be more situations like this in the future."

He nods, and the answer is quickly on his tongue. "I'll break the rules. Every time. You're too important to lose."

"That's a big call to make." You remind him. "If you were to ever tell me something and things got complicated..."

He knows what you mean, and the federal prosecution he could face if your actions reflected you knowing more than you shoulder. "I don't have a good answer for that." He admits, and he's right, there's no good way around it. "Just a long list of regrets from a no-win situation."

"I trust you the make decisions with my best interest in mind." You assure him. The evidence is about one million to one on that.

"That means telling you." He realizes. "Always. Fighting for clearance first, of course." You brush your nose against his, watching a grin take over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. So sorry for hurting you and betraying your trust."

You nod. "We can rebuild it. It just might take time."

"I'll do anything you need me to." He assures you.

"Okay, I need you to kiss me." You request.

It's the easiest, and he fulfills your request, leaning forward eagerly to kiss you, letting all the worry he had about being in an unfixable situation.

[phantommaws]

Chapter Preview - Levi's Nightmare

This chapter is going to be a LONG one and so I'm going to be doing a small handful of previews for it. I'm at 3500 words and have a lot more planned. For now, here is a new preview to tide you over :)

Levi’s hand flew to his chest as he sat up in bed, trying his hardest to slow his breathing. His entire body was soaked with a cold sweat, and he could feel himself trembling as he tried to process the dream he had just awoke from. The morning sun was only just beginning to crest on the horizon, painting the sky with many beautiful hues of pinks and red.

“H-Hange…?”

Levi rubbed his eyes as he turned to look to the side, a sinking feeling setting in when he found the side of the bed empty and neatly made; their glasses and eyepatch were nowhere to be seen.

“Hange?”

He pushed himself out of the bed, stumbling slightly as he put weight on his injured leg. It ached as he tried to make his way to the stairs, but all he could think about in his half-awake state was finding his love. He began to make his way down the steps, ignoring the nagging pains in his injured knee as he tried to move at speed.

“Han-!” Levi began, only to cut himself off with a cry of shock as he proceeded to lose his balance, tumbling forward down the few remaining steps in front of him before landing in an undignified heap at the bottom of the staircase.

“Shit! Levi!”

Levi looked up as he struggled to get to his feet, seeing Hange running towards him and dropping to their knees in front of him. They had a frantic expression on their face as they checked him over, and yet Levi couldn’t bring himself to look up at them lest he break down entirely.

“Levi, are you okay? Nothing hurts, does it? Should I call for the doctor?” Hange asked, words tumbling over each other as they placed their hands either side of his face. Such concern in their expression, he thought, noticing just how scared yet tired they looked.

“I’m fine, Hange…” Levi grumbled, grimacing slightly as he pushed himself to his feet, “I just…I just had a nightmare, you know?”

His words did nothing to placate them, he knew that much from the expression on their face.

“Nightmares don’t usually bring someone tumbling down the stairs screaming the name of their partner in terror, Levi.” Hange commented as she aided him in walking towards the sofa, “What happened? I’ve never seen you so frightened.”

“It…It wasn’t very pleasant.”

“Levi, I’m sure nothing could surprise me given the nightmare I had myself. Please, tell me. I want to know how to make you feel better.”

They took his hands in theirs, and Levi couldn’t help noticing the chill in their fingers and palms. Just how long had Hange been down here? Glancing past them, he noticed an almost-empty cup of what he assumed to be tea, along with the book he knew they read at night and during downtime.

“How long have you been down here for?”

Hange raised an eyebrow accusingly – Levi was avoiding the conversation. Had his dream…no, nightmare, really been that bad?

“Long enough. Now stop avoiding my question, okay? What was that nightmare about?”

Taking a deep breath, Levi prepared to unload the source of his mental anguish onto his partner as he took a sip of the cup of tea that Hange had just handed to him and…

One brown and one white eye staring into his soul and never to see anything again, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He’d had to roll them from their front onto their back, even though he knew who the body was upon seeing her laying on the sand.

Their body was covered in severe burns which he swore went down to bone in some places, and yet their face. Somehow it had been left untouched by the flames, their beauty still evident despite the paleness that death brought to their skin.

Their clothing had burned off during the intense battle, and yet the cloak had stayed relatively intact for which he was grateful as he wrapped his beloved in the green fabric. The dead weight of Hange’s body took him by surprise as he carefully lifted them from where they lay on the sand, being careful to make sure that their face was covered so that they would at least retain some of what little dignity they had in the moment.

“Goodnight, Hange…” he whispered with a weak, trembling voice, “Rest well, my love, until we meet again…”

[arkabacon]

// The Comfort That Follows

|| Kaveh x Reader !! || || 1.6k words || fluff. extremely fluffy. || sfw <333 || || Ao3 ver: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46989922 ||

Your eyes shot open.

Tears streamed down your already stained face. It seems that you’ve been crying for a while now. Most of your senses were still waking up. All you could discern was a soft warm light emitting from what you assumed to be the lamp on the bedside table. You also heard a soft, yet panicked voice. You tried your hardest to understand what it was trying to say to you, getting up to pull yourself out of your trance. A gentle hand made its way to your shoulder. Added pressure was placed onto you by the hand, hinting at you to not get up. You heeded it’s request, and lay back down.

At this point your hearing was much clearer, and it sunk in. Kaveh was the one calling out to you.

“y/n…? Are you alright?”

He moved closer. He was sitting on the bed, legs crossed next to you. You didn’t know how to respond. You have no recollection of the nightmare you had, but the emotions you felt during them remained. It left this stinging sensation in your throat, your heart throbbing with sorrow. It felt like you had lost the one thing you held dear, whether it be an ambition of yours, a special trinket, a memory or a friend. With the lack of a response, Kaveh’s worry grew. Seeing you in such a state left him in disarray. He had no clue what to do. Perhaps he’d have ideas in a more clear state of mind, but right now all he could focus on was you, and only you.

You were his concern. You were his priority.

Since words did not seem to get through with you, he positioned himself beside you, pulling you into a hug. His embrace was all you needed. His gesture made everything else locked up inside of you spill out, your sobbing growing louder and the tears trickled down your face endlessly. You held onto him, all of your strength gripping onto the garments he wore. It was as if everything would crumble if you were to let go of him. He only held you closer to his chest, cradling you in his arms as he whispered delicate, meaningful words into your ears. His fingers ran through your hair, untangling any knots they came across.

Kaveh’s words and comfort never ceased. Even when you had finally calmed down, tears no longer slipping from your eyes, he remained by your side. With the emotions from the nightmare slowly slipping away, your state of mind was less fogged up. You felt…a little lighter, after letting everything out. You unclenched your fists, finally returning the hug your beloved had been giving you for who knows how long. He never slipped away from your touch. In fact, he’s delighted every time he finds his hands in yours. He’s joyful every time you share a moment together. He’s always there for you. Your presence- the entirety of your being made him believe that things can truly take a change for the better, and he believed that this future he had with you was the most significant, precious, and memorable part of his life. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Drowsiness slowly enveloped your body, but you didn’t want to fall asleep yet. You needed a glass of water. You needed maybe a little snack for yourself before sleeping again. You needed to exchange at least a few words with the blond man that held your delicate figure.

“Kaveh?”

You whispered, your voice a little hoarse. He hummed in response, wishing for you to continue.

“Can we get up?”

He nodded. Pulling away slowly, he sat up, and you followed. You both slid off the bed. Kaveh held you close to him, refusing to let you go. He knew you needed the company of another, especially right after what happened. Clueless with what made you cry so much, all he could think of was making you happy. He wouldn’t pry about the dream right now though, he knew you weren’t in the state to answer questions pertaining to the topic. Perhaps he’d ask you in the morning.

“Is there…something you’d like to do?”

His voice broke the silence, his gaze set on your figure. Your eyes locked with his scarlet painted irises. They held so much fondness in them. There was always something about those eyes of his. They tend to put you in a trance. You always got lost in them.

Somehow…they made you feel more secure. It made you feel like someone always had your back, like someone always had eyes on the road ahead, to make sure that wherever you 2 decided to go, it would be the safest, and most peaceful journey. Your mind kept wandering, almost leaving you in a blank state. And that was evident when the other spoke again, snapping you out of your thoughts. His expression held the slightest hint of confusion, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly.

“…y/n?”

“Oh. Sorry…can we get water? Maybe a snack too?”

Smiling at your request, he nodded. Guiding you to the kitchen and pantry, you noticed you had fully calmed down now. No more tears, no more heavy feelings in the heart. You felt almost content, even. Kaveh had something to do with it. And though he was quite clueless with what to do at the start, his efforts paid off, as you were standing by his side, the both of you walking slowly. The air around you was peaceful, no weight in the deepest parts of your being. You both were at the same pace, and your mind wandered again as you thought of what to eat. You didn’t want to cook, so you racked your brain for what could be in the fridge, or if there were any cookies left in the jar. That would go well with milk, wouldn’t it?

Kaveh slipped away from your grasp, as he went and turned the kitchen lights on. He gave you a certain look that he’d give you once in a while. You sat down by a nearby stool, right by the counter, knowing that what he wanted to convey was that you could rely on him to do the rest. You’d voice out your little snack order when he returns.

Setting a cold glass before you, he asked if you had any other requests. He seemed like your personal bartender, and this thought entertained you. You laughed lightly before pointing towards the cookie jar.

“Let’s share”

“Ah! I’ll get some milk to pair with it. We have some in the fridge. Give me a moment, dear”

And off he went. It seems that his mood has heightened, and so has yours. All previous events slipped from your thoughts, now replaced with the uplifting situation at hand. A peaceful midnight snack with just the person you needed. He returned with 2 glasses of milk and the jar. He seems to have taken a sip of the milk already, as a faint white mustache sat just above his lips. You chuckled, leaving him confused until you pointed out the milk that rested on his face. His cheeks were dusted with red hues, the man turning around to get a piece of tissue to wipe off the milk.

You both continued to have lighthearted conversations, no traces of any negative feelings were to be found around you both.

You found yourself resting your head on your folded arms, which were rested on the countertop. Sleepiness was finally taking over, your conversations with the tall man by your side now coming to a close. He nudged you, waking you a little. The blond man told you that it was time for you both to return upstairs, before you fall asleep in the kitchen. He didn’t want that. You’d wake to neck pain and wouldn’t be able to sleep comfortably. You sluggishly got up, eyes half closed, leaning onto kaveh as he guided you once more. The 2 of you slowly made your way to the room.

“Thank you.”

You said quietly, sitting on the bed you both shared. Those words were genuine, truthful, and you conveyed that so well. You saw Kaveh smile, fondness dancing in his eyes knowing that you meant those words. He was glad. He was able to help you, and he was thankful that he was able to push through and give you what you needed. You appreciated his efforts. You really did. You moved towards him, the architect tilting his head, curious as to what you wanted to say next. No words slipped out though, as you leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Red dusted his cheeks.

You could only chuckle a little at his reaction. Back then, it would be a particularly rare sight to see the architect red faced. That only happens when he’s extremely drunk. But now that you’ve held his heart captive, he always melts whenever you do something to fluster him. Whenever you do something to stir the warmth inside of him. It works every single time and he can’t get enough of it. He’d never admit that though, and try to put up a front with whatever remaining confidence he’d have in him. Moments like that never failed to make you laugh.

After turning off the lights, the both of you slid under the sheets, getting comfortable as the drowsiness nips at your senses again. The both of you were as close as ever, your head rested on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, just as he did before. You felt a wave of peace wash over you, and right then and there you knew that you’d have no trouble sleeping through the night.

You held onto kaveh, the blond man being the only one you wish to see in your dreams, and in your reality.

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

A New Kind Of Hell 

Alternate ending part 2

Summary: Layla Bradshaw thought her personal hell was the worst thing she ever experienced. She was clearly wrong. *This is a two part alternate ending for my story How Soon Is Now? For Season 8 Episode 10. Please read with caution.*

Warnings: Smut, Cannibalism, dub-con, non-con, hints of magic being used on Layla to make her more willing.

Six months.

Six fuckin’ months.

That was how far along Layla was in her pregnancy, and she still wasn’t used to it. Even after she had Tessa, being pregnant again felt so strange.

Layla thought it was understandable given that she’d only been a few days pregnant with her daughter before Michael forcefully fed her his blood. It didn’t take long for her belly to grow to completion, and a few hours later she ended up giving birth in Misty’s cabin with the remaining witches of her coven.

But even they were now all gone. Her whole family, wiped out of existence with the exception of Tessa. And unlike last time, Michael wanted Layla to experience a full term pregnancy since it was his child she was carrying. Not Kyle’s.  

When Layla found out she was pregnant two weeks after having to undergo Michael’s lust, she had herself a good cry. She didn't plan for this to happen, nor did she want it. Michael was the true mastermind behind the pregnancy.  

Big surprise there.

Due to Michael's hold on her, Layla had no choice but to let him use her as he saw fit. That same night, after finding out she was pregnant, Michael fucked her with such avidity it seemed as if he were trying to put another baby in her despite already being pregnant. This intensity of his only increased, making it obvious he enjoyed being inside her as her stomach grew with each passing month.

Layla found his raging libido sickening.

Michael in general sickened her.

And for the first month of her pregnancy this thing she was carrying also sickened her. That was until Layla had her monthly visit with Tessa.

Despite the initial shock at the news of her pregnancy, her daughter, wise beyond her young age, made her see reason. This baby, even half of Michael, was still just a baby, and half of her. If Layla hated it before it was even born, then hatred will be all the baby would know.

Hatred itself was such a strong emotion, one Layla was very familiar with. Only now she could not, did not, want to hate this child. Hatred would twist them into becoming a monster, just like Michael.

Thus, Layla made a promise to herself five months ago. She was going to try her hardest to make sure this child wouldn’t turn out like him. They wouldn’t ever question her love for them. Love that Layla did not, and would never have for Michael...their father.

As expected, Michael made his presence known to Layla in the bedroom they, much to her misfortune, shared. Layla didn’t get up from where she laid on the plush couch. She only looked up from the book she was reading long enough to see his domineering frame, and a timid looking maid with a cart.

The woman who pushed in the cart with the silver platter was not her usual maid, Hadley. Layla wondered where she might be at the moment. Hadley had become a friend to her during these last few months. The light brunette would sometimes keep her company when Layla wasn't graced with Michael's so-called loving presence. She also was better company than Miriam, who even as a robot unnerved Layla.

The unfamiliar woman didn’t stay long after setting the silver plate onto the dinner table that was in the massive bedroom. She quickly bowed her head before taking off, leaving behind Layla who wished to follow.

It was now her and Michael. And the baby Layla was carrying, but it was only Michael who made the alarms go off in her head because of his staring.

Michael was practically undressing her with his eyes. “You look utterly ravishing.”

“I look like shit and I feel like it.” Layla muttered, not caring how petulant she sounded. She put aside her book because there was no point in reading anymore with Michael in the room talking to her.

“Nonsense.” Michael cooed, coming closer to where she laid on the couch. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb brushed her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. The pinkness on her cheeks set fire to his loins. “I do believe you’re glowing.”

Layla stood, quick to get away from his hold while she could. Even anxious she wanted to defy him, but any snarky comment about how he needed to get his eyes checked out wouldn’t have done her any good. Or rather, it wouldn’t have done Tessa any good.

Michael had one hand behind his back, while the other gestured to where the food had been left. “Perhaps this will help.”

“I seriously doubt whatever you have brought is gonna help.” Layla replied curtly. She nonetheless walked over to the dinner table and took a seat in front of the silver platter.

Michael fixed her a sharp smile, revealing what was inside the silver platter. It wasn’t anything Layla expected. There resting on top of the silver plate was a human heart and liver. Layla got up, the chair screeching loudly as she backed away from the table, absolutely appalled. One of her hands covered her mouth, and the other touched her bump, as if shielding her unborn baby from seeing the ghastly sight before them.

Once upon a time Layla’s dream (before she learned she was a witch) was to become a Forensic Anthropologist. Therefore she was quite familiar with human anatomy but not even her knowledge stopped the aghast from being presented with a human heart and liver.

Who exactly did the organs belong to? Layla hadn’t a clue. She felt really bad for whoever this was. Layla highly doubted they volunteered to be killed just for their heart and liver. And why exactly those parts? She didn’t know for certain but she would soon, judging from Michael’s gleaming eyes.

Layla hated that look he had on. A look of delight. She’d seen him eat hearts before, and if he was about to eat this heart and liver in front of her she just might throw up. Her pregnancy was making her extra sensitive these days.  

Horrified, Layla then remembered what he said. She glowered at him. “How the fuck could you ever think this would help me?”

“Your body this far into your pregnancy requires substances of a certain kind.” Michael informed her in a cool manner. He came over to her, forcing her to look up at him again. His only reaction to her shock and swearing was glee filling his features.  

Layla shook her head, trying her best to ignore the softness of his hands and the coolness of his rings against her flushed skin. “You’re lying. You’re just trying to trick me.” She brusquely vocalized. “This is some sick twisted way for you to get your rocks off.”

Michael chuckled, low and smooth. “Oh, believe me my love…” He caressed the apple of her cheeks, relishing the warmth. “Why would I resort to trickery when I already have the pleasure of spilling inside you whenever I want? You always come willing anyway.”

Layla stopped herself from slapping the smug face off of him. He spoke as if she took sheer joy in sleeping with him. It had only gotten worse now that she was pregnant, and it was always him who initiated it.

Layla pushed his hand away, bristling while doing so. She tried to walk away but Michael stepped forward, invading what little personal space she had. “You know you want to.”

Layla’s breath hitched at the way his intense blue eyes were staring down at her. The richness and smoothness of his voice made chills go down her back, and she suddenly felt weightless even at six months pregnant. She looked at the silver plate with the heart and liver and was astonished at the lack of disgust from moments prior. She wasn’t getting nauseous the longer she stared at the bloody organs.

No, Layla now had a craving. A need, really. The need to eat everything on the plate. And that frightened her, but not enough to stop herself from hurrying over and taking the first bite.

And once she did, the frenzy began.

It was as if Layla wasn’t in her own body as she took bite after bite of the heart and liver. At the moment it didn’t matter that she was eating another person’s organs. All that mattered was needing to eliminate this hunger of hers that came out of nowhere. Layla never once noticed Michael playing with her hair as she ate away.

All that blood nearly put her in a stupor. She wasn’t herself though, as she’d later come to realize in distraught. She’d been under a spell, his spell.

Layla didn’t pull away at the press of Michael's lips against her own once she finished everything. She didn’t protest in the slightest at the feel of his tongue licking its way inside her mouth, welcoming the blood that was there. And she reacted in a way that was very unlike her.

Rather than stopping the kiss, Layla pulled Michael closer, moaning against his mouth. Her green eyes wide but hazy as he picked her up bridal style, mindful of her current state.

Their fervid kissing never faltered while making his way to their bed. It was when they undressed that it came to a pause. His clothes came off first, and he tore her dress right after. Michael nearly groaned at the roundness of Layla’s stomach. Her breasts had grown, becoming more fuller and her hips were wider.  

Rather than thrusting himself inside her without a second thought, Michael kissed his way down, gently biting her fuller, sensitive breasts until he was leveled in between her thighs. His member throbbed, pleased to see her arousal glistened like diamonds.

“My Laya, my precious Layla.” Michael murmured, blowing air against her clit. She reacted instantly by throwing her head back, turning into a moaning mess. She fell back onto the mountain of pillows they had on the bed. “My beautiful wife.” Her moaning became louder once he buried his whole face in her hot, wet center.

Layla’s hands impulsively went to his hair, pulling him even closer to her bud of nerves. She felt the silkiness of his hair as his lips wrapped around her clit. His tongue teased her, moving fast enough to finish her until slowing down at the last second, delaying her release.

Michael didn’t mind Layla pulling on his hair, finding amusement in her desperation. She was never like this with him, so he was going to enjoy it. He continued the torture with his tongue on her bud, pushing her close to release only to pull her back at the last second.  

It wasn’t until Layla began sobbing, begging with her sweet voice, that Michael finally gifted her with the bliss she’d been chasing. He pressed his tongue hard against her clit, and within seconds she was howling so loud glass could’ve broken. Her arousal gushed out, covering the bottom part of his face with her deliciousness.

Layla’s hands fell from his hair, fisting the silk sheets. The heat coursing through her wasn’t gone, heightening again as Michael crawled up her body, kissing as much of her skin as possible. The evidence of what was left of her climax shined on his face.  

“Taste yourself, my love.” Michael purred, abruptly kissing her before she could say anything.

Layla’s mouth opened as if on its own, tasting the slick he very much enjoyed. He kissed her until she needed air. The sight of her slick covering her face where blood from her feast remained hardened his cock.

“You taste like honey and lavender mixed together.” Michael gruffed, surging forward again to claim her lips. Layla shuddered at his tongue flicking against her own.

At some point, during their heated kissing, Michael had maneuvered. Layla was on his lap while he was sitting against the headboard. He kept eye contact with her as he reached down to palm his hardened member.

Layla mewled at the sight, throwing her head back at the feel of his other hand dipping between her thighs. Three of fingers made their way inside her, and she shivered at the coolness of his rings. An endless amount of tingles started to go down her spine at the way his thumb rubbed her clit mercilessly.

Michael was determined to get her to orgasm again so soon, and he accomplished just that.

A hard press to her clit right as he curled his fingers to hit a special spot inside made Layla let out an earth-shattering cry. Her nails scratched down his chest, leaving angry bloody marks.

Michael growled, liking the pain and pleasure she made him feel. He rubbed himself harder, not stopping the curling of his fingers inside Layla nor the clit pressing with his thumb with his other hand. She was suffering from overstimulation, and as an outlet scratched down his chest again, drawing more blood. He didn’t stop his movements, and she didn’t stop her scratching until a pinch to her clit had her wailing.

Layla’s arousal from her orgasm leaked down her thighs, right onto Michael’s weeping member. He pulled his hand from her warm cunt, taking joy in her whining when doing so and used his slick covered hand to jerk himself with. He finished at the feel of her warmth all over him, his seed mixing with her arousal.

The two of them were lost to their climaxes; they didn’t notice the crack in the bedroom wall. A crack that had not been there before.

Layla fell onto his bloody chest, where Michael welcomed her. He enjoyed her shaking, clearly overwhelmed but too tired and under his influence to tell him otherwise. Her shaking would only continue because tonight’s pleasures were not at an end. His beloved looked up at him, eyes hooded, at the feel of his hands on her widened hips.

“What…?”

Michael didn’t give her time to finish her sentence. He flipped Layla to be under him, careful with her swollen belly. He pinned her hands above, intertwining their fingers just as he snapped his hips forward, going deeper within her.

As if on autopilot, Layla’s legs wrapped around his waist, the soles of her feet digging into his lower back. Her own back arched as broken moans and the sound of slapping skin filled the lavish room.

A bit of clarity began to slip through to Layla during the euphoric act, but that didn’t stop Michael. There would be no stopping, not until he was fully satisfied, and even then that still wouldn’t be enough. He’d never get enough of his precious Layla. His beloved wife.  

“Wait, no…” Layla tried to say, managing to free her hands only to hold onto his shoulders. Her words quickly turned into whimpers at the speed of his thrusts.

Michael gently shushed her, a contrast to the way his hips moved expeditiously against her own. The bed squeaked underneath them, and her pregnant belly moved but not enough to harm their child. “Just take it, my love.” He licked into Layla’s mouth again, tasting her tears mixing with her arousal and the remnants of blood from her feast. “Take the pleasure I’m only able to give you.”

Any objections Layla had became lost to the moans he plucked out of her. In the end she took what he gave her with tears streaming down her cheeks and nails scratching down his back, leaving behind new trails of blood.

[blipblooopp]

Let It Be Me

Summary: Choi San is many things. The most talented man you have ever seen. Be it on the dance floor or in front of a mic during a gig. He was the kindest person, always holding the door for the people behind him, helping the elderly carry things, even paying for strangers randomly. He got along famously with your parents and even better with your grandparents. He was charming like that, capturing the attention of anyone and everyone who even looked his way. He’s the love of your life, you’re sure of it but he’s also your best friend. Pairing: Boy Band AU!Choi San x F!Reader Words: 5.6k Genre: Angst/Smut

You’ve heard of a thing called platonic soulmates but it’s taken you years and years of watching Choi San grow to realize you weren’t. Well, you hoped you weren’t. Everything about him made your body erupt into a fire.

San looked at everything with adoration, finding all the good in life, including you. It was a double-edged sword, really. It made you feel special… important. But you could barely concentrate when his eyes were on you.

It didn’t help that he was gifted in pretty much everything; it made you nervous beyond belief. He’s pretty much perfect and as much as you wanted to be with him, you knew the odds of him liking you back were slim to none.

You’ve come to terms with it for the most part. It hurt to see him flirt with girls in front of you, hurt even worse when he started dating this awful girl named Areum. She didn’t give a fuck about him, actually. She barely responded to his calls and texts, going as far as blocking him one time. They fought nonstop. Every time you two hung out, San had a new dilemma to talk about. For some reason, San wouldn’t break up with her.

You had asked him after a night of you two getting drunk together, after another night of listening to his relationship problems. He laughed dryly, taking another sip of his beer, “I love her so much.”

Apparently, it was his “slow-motion” moment. He and his band had been wrapping up the night with their last song, soaking up every second they could have. Halfway through the song, San had noticed Areum in the front row. You were there too so you noticed the look on his face. A look you had never seen him make before. It basically tore your heart out when he told you that he couldn’t get “that beautiful girl” out of his head. She ended up becoming a dedicated face in the crowd so San asked her out.

You would’ve thought they were soulmates from the way they looked in the beginning. Lord only knows how they got to this point. How you got to this point, with San crying in your lap.

It was 10:00 pm when someone started banging on your door. You were enjoying a cup of coffee but you almost had a heart attack at that moment. You opened the door with shaking hands, hoping that whatever killer was on the side wasn’t actually a killer. Instead, you saw your best friend, with swollen red eyes, sniffling.

“Oh my god, San! You scared— what’s wrong?” You immediately dragged him in, locking the door behind you. He sniffled again as he slumped into your couch. You took a seat next to him and took his hand in yours. “Was it another fight?” You knew it wasn’t. In all the fights you had heard, San never cried.

“She was cheating on me… this whole time.” He hiccuped as he talked.

“That bitch.” You said under your breath. You held onto his hand a little tighter, trying to contain your anger.

“I went to her house tonight because she wasn’t responding to me again. I wanted to talk it out with her but she opened her front door in her underwear with some motherfucker sitting on her couch!” Although you had many words to say with Areum, you were speechless in front of San. What were you supposed to say? All you could do was scoot back on the couch and guide San's head onto a pillow in your lap.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You ran your fingers through his hair, “You can cry for as long as you want.”

And cry he did.

____

The next morning was hard. You woke up on your couch sitting up-right with a terrible case of stiff-neck. That’s not the only reason it was hard. No, it was worse seeing San still laying on your lap. He was wide-awake, dark eye bags contrasting against his face. His eyes stared deep into the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about, Sannie?” You started to run your fingers through his hair again and watched as his eyes fluttered shut, his body instantly relaxing.

His eyes opened again, “Why didn’t she love me?” You couldn’t respond, not that he let you. “I knew we weren’t perfect, knew she wasn’t perfect… but we always made it through the end of the day. I can’t believe she would do this to me.”

“It’s her loss.” You finally said. “You don’t need her anyway. It was her decision to cheat and you had nothing to do with it.”

San didn’t say anything after that, just continued to stare at your ceiling.

___

The first few weeks were the hardest for sure. San had spent most of them at your place, barely leaving even for band practice. When he did practice with the guys he would leave early, only strumming a few chords on his guitar before deciding that it reminded him too much of Areum.

“He’s been really out of it.” Yunho, the bassist commented one time. San hadn’t even played that day. He just sat in the corner for an hour. You stayed behind for a few minutes and told San to wait in the car. You wanted to catch up with the other band members.

“Can you blame him? That bitch was… well, a bitch.” Wooyoung shot back, setting his drum sticks down.

“How has he been holding up?” Hongjoong asked.

You scoffed, “Have you seen the man? I don’t even think San’s there anymore! God, if I see her, it’s on sight!”

You did your best to help him through those weeks. You had been through a few hard breakups in the past so you understood that the early stages were the worst. You even used up all of your sick time to stay home with him. You had never seen him this gloomy. At one point, he went through five pints of ice cream in three days.

____

It took three months for San to be even remotely okay. He started going to practice more and this time, he actually played. You couldn't say you were surprised. San loved playing with the band and you knew it was probably the only thing that would bring him out of his funk.

"You look good, man!" Hongjoong slapped his hand on San's back playfully and for the first time in months, San had his usual dimpled smile.

"I feel good." He replied, setting down his guitar and taking a seat next to you on the beat-up couch. "It's thanks to you, y/n"

Your eyes widened. "Me?"

He nodded. "You stayed up with me, didn't go to work, even made me breakfast when you knew I didn't have the energy to get off your couch."

You couldn't lie; your heart was racing. All you could do was stare back into his eyes with a goofy smile painted on your face. San put his hand on your thigh, skinship being normal between you two, especially within these past months.

Your friendship remained just that, a friendship, for the next month. You were okay with this, though. At least you had a small sliver of hope now that he was single. That tiny bit of hope that he'd love you back was able to tide you over.

Until one night.

San had come over for your weekly movie nights, an event you had been doing since high school but stopped doing because his ex got jealous easily. You tried calming your nerves as you sat next to each other, his arm wrapped around you.

You were so close you could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating. Maybe it was the fact that he was newly single now, filling up your thoughts even more recently, but his entire presence was overwhelming tonight.

“You alright, beautiful?” Since San was single now, his usual playful flirty side was coming out again. Just like everything else about him, you had a love-hate relationship with it. It doesn't mean anything. You had to remind yourself. He talked like this with everyone, especially when he wanted to get a rise out of his bandmates.

You gulped when you looked up at him. How could a man have this effect on you? You would think that after years of unrequited love, you'd be able to at least contain yourself. “Yeah.”

San gave you a dimpled smile, shifting his gaze to a piece of your hair, moving it behind your ear. Your mouth parts, probably to say something but you can't be too sure right now. If someone walked in, they would think you guys are about to kiss. Maybe you are... you want to kiss him.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you slowly lean forward, keeping your eyes on his lips. They look too good not to look at but you're also scared of seeing the look in his eyes, the potential disgust that might be taking over at the thought of your lips touching his.

Everything is moving in slow motion. From your hand caressing his cheek to the moment your lips make contact. He's stiff against you and you can only imagine that it's because he's uncomfortable. You start to pull away, dreading the awkward conversation you're about to have but San is quick. His hand grips your thigh and he's kissing you back with fervor.

Your head is spinning, Is this really happening? These sparks you're feeling all over your body, does he feel the same way? You push away any thoughts you're having, trying to focus on keeping up with San. You needed to enjoy this moment. Without realizing it, you swing your leg and straddle San's lap. He groans underneath you but before you can question it, he's giving you a reassuring squeeze on your waist.

You don't want to take the initiative of going further, but man, your hands are burning to touch his bare skin. Your hands, instead, rest on his shoulders, gripping and releasing every few seconds. As if he was reading your mind, San's hands move to the hem of your shirt and for the first time, you break the kiss.

The second your shirt passes your head, San's moving to kiss your neck, occasionally sucking to leave hickies that are sure to last a whole week. You're breathless, taking this as a sign to take off San's shirt. Your hands are all over each other, San's going from your cheek to unbuttoning your jeans, your fingers feeling his abs contract under your touch.

It feels like a flash. San suddenly laying you down on your bed, both of your clothes littered behind you on the floor, his lips still on your neck. It's only when he's about to insert himself does he stop and look at you with dark eyes. He doesn't give you enough time to question it, pushing himself inside you. You both gasp at the feeling.

"Fuck, you're so tight!" He grips your hip with one hand, the other holding the headboard like his life depends on it. He feels like he'll burst any second.

You're right there with him though, the mere feelings of this moment making you sensitive. "You're just big. Holy shit!"

It takes him a second, taking a moment to give both of you a moment to adjust before he moves inside you. You can't contain the sounds coming out of you as he hits all the right spots with ease. You couldn't have pegged San to have this big of a dick, yet here he was.

Before you can realize it, your hands are finding purchase on his back and your nails are sinking into his skin. He hisses above you but his thrusts get harsher and the moaning in your ear doesn't get any quieter.

"You feel so good... so warm and tight for me." He's practically whimpering into your neck. You try to keep your cool, trying not to cum so fast but he's hitting that spot inside you with ease.

Your nails dig into him deeper, "S-san," You stutter out. "Close... so close."

"I know... but you gotta wait for me. Can you do that?" His thrusts get faster and deeper, you don't even comprehend his words properly.

"Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Be a good girl for me?" He's using both hands to clench onto the headboard now, the force making it harder to not cum. You just nod and wrap your legs around his waist. San is drilling into you with so much force and he's hoping that the bed isn't going to break. After a few more thrusts, he starts to get sloppy, and your vision's crossing.

"Alright, beautiful. Cum for me." He grunts out, trying not to cum at the feeling of you clenching around him. You finally let the waves of pleasure course through you, seeing stars. If you were lucid, you most definitely would have been embarrassed by the noises coming out of your mouth and your pussy.

With a loud sigh, San pulls out of you and releases onto your stomach. Almost immediately, he’s up and cleaning you, you’re body’s too tired to do anything but lay there. You’re surprised, because instead of leaving, San lays next to you, even going as far as pulling you close to him.

You have so much on your mind but you're too tired now.

____

This goes on for weeks. Sometimes you would hang out. Sometimes do other things. Everything happened so fast. The friendship that you held so dear had become a muddled mess of lust and confusion. You obviously still had feelings for San but you had no idea where he stood.

You'd never even talked about the first time you guys had sex. When you woke up he was gone and when you saw each other again, he acted like nothing had happened. You didn't want to be that clingy girl who expected a relationship so you never brought it up. Now you're in this endless cycle of sleeping with each other and never addressing the elephant in the room.

What didn't help was how San was acting differently. He was much more touchy with you, always having to touch you in some way whenever you were together. His hand on your thigh, holding your hand, arm around your shoulder, he did it all. Before the incident, you would have considered him touchy but that's nothing compared to him now.

Your hangouts started to become more elaborate as well. You guys were actually going out to movies instead of watching Netflix at your house. Small coffee shop hangouts started becoming intimate dinners. It was like you guys were dating. These dates gave you hope that he would eventually open up and ask you out properly but you didn't want to force it out of him. So, you just decided to go with whatever he wanted.

"Let's go ice-skating." The handsome man suggested his left-hand steering and his right hand on your thigh.

"You know I can't ice-skate." You deadpan, getting distracted by your fingers playing with his.

He glances at you with a honey-sweet smile before bringing his eyes back to the road. "I can teach you, ya know."

"Please, you just want to see me fall so you can laugh at me."

"That too."

San taught you how to ice-skate for maybe ten minutes. After that, he decided that it would be best to let you learn through trial and error.

"San, I'm literally gonna fall on my face!" You cried, your legs shaking as you attempted to walk on the ice.

"You're doing great. Just try skating to me." He held out his hand for you. Every time you got even remotely close to him, however, he would slowly start backing up. You were struggling around the rink but he made sure to sprinkle in encouragements so you wouldn't be too mad at him.

Just when you thought you were doing good, you got too cocky and propelled yourself towards San, wanting so desperately to close that gap. Your feet weren't pointed straight enough causing your left skate to hit your right, tripping you onto the ice.

"Holy shit, y/n! Are you alright?" San appears in front of you with seconds. Helping you up with ease. Your knees ache and you could feel the bruise forming on your hip.

“Did you not see me eat shit?” You bark out, now gripping his arm for dead life.

“I did but it’s always polite to ask.” You slap his arm playfully as he guides you off the ice and onto the benches. “Are you actually okay?”

You shook your head and pouted like a child. San chuckled to himself, seeing right through you. Instead of saying anything, he pecked your lips innocently and took a seat next to you. It was the first time he’s kissed you in public which only confused you further. Is he doing this on purpose? You really had to ask him.

You’re too lost in your thoughts to see San staring at you. It’s not until he’s moving a piece of hair out of your face that you’re snapped out of your thoughts. You jolt slightly and hum at him in response. He just shakes his head and returns his gaze to the people skating.

It was your turn to stare at him, to memorize his features for the nth time. He’s just as beautiful as he was two seconds ago and the butterflies are still strong. You open your mouth to question him about your relationship, finally building up the courage just when…—

“San? Is that you?” You freeze. Her, you think. That manipulative bitch.

“Areum?” San stands as if he’s been caught doing something bad like a child. She offers him a warm smile, completely disregarding you as always. You feel like you did during the concert. His eyes are no longer on you… but trained on her. You feel that distance he created on the ice growing bigger and bigger.

“What’re you doing here?” The man asks, still shocked to see her.

“Ah, I was just walking around.” The nerve of this girl to act like she didn’t do anything wrong. “What’re you doing here?” Her eyes land on you but she quickly looks back at him.

You stand this time. “We’re…” Don’t say it. Don’t be petty. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “On a date.” You entwine your arm with San’s.

Areum’s lip twitches in annoyance. “Oh?” She quirks a brow and glances at San. “Is this true?”

San freaks out without thinking and shakes his arm from yours. “No!— I mean like a friendly date, sure. We’re just hanging out like old times.”

There’s your answer.

His ex smiles with victory at your defeated state. “Well, we should catch up, San. I know we ended things on a bad note but I think we should talk.”

The car ride home was awfully silent. Usually, they were filled with laughter and off-key singing but tonight, you gave San short answers in his poor attempt to talk. When you entered your apartment, you told him you were going to bed early and that he should lock up when he leaves.

Instead, you feel his warm body climb into your bed and hold you at 12 am. As always, you didn’t tell him to leave. Because, as always, you couldn’t say no to Choi San.

____

You wake up and San's not next to you but there is a text.

San : Sorry I didn't want to wake you but I left to go to practice. It'll probably end late today so if you feel up to it, come hang out. :)

Should you? Maybe it's just better if you pretend like nothing happened. Obviously, that's what he's doing. Besides, it’s not like his bandmates gave you false hope just to reject you in front of their ex. You end up going to the practice, a huge lump in your throat. If you brought up the situation, you're sure that whatever you guys had would be over the second you said anything.

Jongho, the lead singer, greets you with a smile and a nod in your direction as he warms up.

"y/n!" Wooyoung calls out, getting off of his drum stool and engulfing you in a hug.

You giggle on command, loving his enthusiasm. “Wooyoung, why do you always act like we haven’t seen each other for years!”

He smiles and whispers, “Don’t tell the guys I told you, but you’re like… our muse!”

You roll your eyes and pull away from his chest just to look at him, “I think you’re the only one crazy enough to even consider that.”

Wooyoung lets you go completely and returns to his drum set, you follow suit. “Maybe but you’ve been our number one supporter since day one! Plus you’re beautiful and beauty inspires art, does it not?”

Laughter erupts from you again at his cheesiness and your feel an arm wrap around your shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the signature cologne giving him away.

“What’s so funny?” San’s smiling but you can tell there’s something different in his tone.

“Just exposing how important y/n is to the band.” Wooyoung sends you a playful wink, your cheeks burning slightly. San forces a laugh, something you don’t notice, before sitting you down on the couch.

After practice was over, you waited outside of the room for San so you could go back to your place. That wasn't the original plan but San insisted. The chilly air made you wrap your arms around yourself, internally scolding yourself over not bringing a jacket.

Wooyoung was the first to come out, fishing his lighter out of his pocket. He wasn't the only cigarette smoker in the group but he was definitely the one that smoked the most. He grinned at the sight of you, resting his hand in his pocket instead.

"Why're you waiting out here? It's cold as hell."

"Yeah... But I didn't want to get in your guys' way." You rubbed your hands up and down your arms trying to create heat. Wooyoung took off his jacket and wrapped it around you without hesitation. "A true gentleman." You remarked.

He put his hand on his chest, his face contorting to look hurt. "I've always been a gentleman. Even when I'm freezing my ass off."

Your eyes widened, ready to give the jacket back. "Woah there, missy. I gave it to you for a reason. We don't want our muse to die of hypothermia." The joke makes you laugh lightly. "You waiting on San?"

You nod, staring at the ground and rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “It’s been a lot of waiting recently.” You accidentally confess.

“Uh oh.” He leans against the wall. "I noticed something was different."

"What do you mean?" You hear your heartbeat through your ears and you find it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

"You guys are a lot closer... You guys are best friends, sure, but the air's been different between you two. He still doesn't notice how you look at him."

You scoff, "That obvious, huh?"

"To everyone but him, it seems. Can I be honest?" Wooyoung rolls to face you. You nod, now looking at him. "Unless you tell him how you feel, you'll be doing nothing but waiting on him."

"But our friendship-"

"If you're about to tell me that it's enough for you, so help me God, y/n, I will kick your ass." You laugh for the first time since the conversation started. You understand what you have to do. You guys have already crossed so many boundaries and clearly, he feels something for you, right?

The door to the practice room swings open and this time it's Yeosang and San. San's bright smile seems to falter as his eyes instantly land on the jacket that's wrapped around you. His eyes shift between you and the drummer then he strides to you, grabbing your wrist.

"Let's go?" You don't have time to answer. San's practically ripping the jacket off of you and throwing it at Wooyoung who barely catches it. This time, you don't miss the change in his tone. He replaces Wooyoung's jacket with his hoodie, not saying a word as he puts it on you.

Just like the night before, the tension in the car is thick but unlike last night, it's you who's trying to spark a conversation. San's knuckles are turning white as he drives and it's starting to worry you. You've never seen San this upset before and you're still trying to place the reasoning. Was it jealousy?

You pull up to the house, expecting him to follow you like he always does but he doesn't. Instead, he leaves the engine running and his eyes on the street. For some reason, this sets you off. This man had the audacity to pull away from you, act like you were just a friend in front of the ex that cheated on him, but gets jealous over you casually talking to another guy?

You scoff and unbuckle your seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and slammed the door shut. San was feeling extra temperamental tonight. He couldn't understand why he felt like this either. Maybe he was looking for a fight. He turned off the engine and followed you inside. Before you could close and lock the door, he stepped into your house.

"What is your problem?" You asked venomously.

"What is your problem?"

"I didn't have any problem until you decided to get all confusing!" You dropped your tote bag on the floor, turning to face him fully.

"I'm confusing? Are kidding me?" He huffs out, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Actually, I'm not. You've been driving me nuts since we started hooking up. I'm over it!" His lip twitches into a sarcastic smile. "What the fuck was that with your ex? You completely pushed me aside. She treated you like shit, remember? She cheated, she lied, and she manipulated you. Do you want to get back to-"

"You're not my girlfriend, y/n!" He cut you off. "God, it's like you don't know your place." Tears pricked your eyes but you felt more angry than sad. Angry, you've never felt this way with San before. You're experiencing a lot of firsts tonight. San immediately realizes what he said, how hurt you were. He took a step closer to you but you put up your hands, putting up your boundaries for the first time.

"No, you're right. It's not like you hold my hand wherever we go or put your hands on my waist in public. You don't smile at me sweetly during dates. We're not completely vulnerable with each other, telling each other things we'd never breathe to others. It's not like we fuck almost every day! Do friends do what we do? Please, enlighten me. What's my place?"

"I'm sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have-" You're full-on bawling now, sucking in breaths where you can.

"I can't believe I've loved you for so long. I've torn my heart out for you and you just... you just throw it back at me like it's nothing!" His mouth opens but nothing comes out, instead he wraps his arms around you. You react once you feel him, trying to fight him off but he's stronger, trying to calm you down by hugging you.

You're screaming, all the feelings you've held inside bursting out of you, "Why can't you let me in?" You start to pound on your chest even though you know you shouldn't. You don't even notice that he's crying too. "Why can't it be me for once? Let it be me!"

"I'm sorry," He coos. You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, your feelings making it hard to focus. San catches you though, guiding you to sit on the floor.

San does his best to understand what you're saying through your sobs. He wants to understand what he's feeling. He thought he was doing this to get over Areum but why was he doing all the other things? He could've just stuck to the bare minimum but he didn't. Better question, how had he not noticed your feelings?

San was so caught in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed you had cried yourself to sleep. He was holding your head to his chest and he sighed, finally relaxing a bit. He couldn't really relax though, his mind still processing what you had said. He carried you bridal style to your room and thanking God that you had exhausted yourself.

San tucked you in and, after some hard debating, decided to lay in bed with you. He made sure that he wasn't touching you even though he knew he was going to leave before you woke up. He sighed to himself.

Even as you slept you were beautiful and he beat himself up for only now noticing how exhausted you looked. The man never understood why he was so willing and ready to sleep with you. He could acknowledge that there was steaming sexual tension but he never thought it would get this far. Nevertheless, you guys were in this situation; the very foggy area between friends and more.

Is this how you felt, absolutely terrified? You guys certainly couldn't go back to being friends after everything that's happened between you two. San's body started to shake as he silently cried. He couldn't even comprehend how much pain he's put you through these last few months.

____

You're not surprised to find your bed empty the next day; you wouldn't be surprised if San had sent you a message ending your friendship and promptly blocking you. You stare at your ceiling with tears already prickling your eyes. You weren't going to check your phone for texts. You just went to work.

The day went by fast, your boss giving you plenty of work to distract yourself. You were doing just fine until you pulled up to your apartment to find Wooyoung waiting to knock on your door.

"Wooyoung?" The man turned around, almost like a deer in headlights.

"Oh- Hey!" He quickly put his hands in his jean pockets. You walked to your door silently, unlocking the front door and inviting him in.

“What can I help you with?” You try to be casual even though all you’re thinking about is San and how you know Wooyoung’s here to soothe whatever problem you guys are having.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase. Talk to San. It’s only been a day of you two fighting and all of us are tired of him sulking.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“He came into practice looking all down and he didn’t talk to any of us. He just went through practice barely saying ten words throughout the whole thing.”

"How do you know this has something to do with me?"

“… Do I look blind to you? Everyone knows something’s going on between you two.” Wooyoung sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “Look, I don’t know what happened but I’m sure it was probably his fault. I’m not saying you should forgive him right away but just talk to him. Please?”

——

So now, here you are, outside his door. You took in a deep breath before knocking hard on his door. You couldn’t muster the courage to ask if he was home but there was no practice so you hoped for the best.

The door unlocked within a few minutes. “y/n?”

“H-Hi,” You stuttered out, feeling the weight on your shoulders get heavier. “Can I come in?”

San gestures you inside and you take a seat on his couch. There’s an awkward silence when he joins you and you can’t recall any other time it’s been like this. It was so easy to talk to San before but now you can’t even form a sentence.

“So—“

“What’d—“

You said at the same time.

“You first.” San breathed.

“I just figured we had a lot to talk about.”

"Right..." He brushed off his legs with a sigh.

"I like you, San- actually, I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for so long and we slept together and it got messy. We've never talked about what we were after that night. You just made me a rebound and I turned the other way..."

His eyes burnt into your face and you were too scared to meet them. "I'm sorry. I never meant to put you in that kind of situation. I shouldn't have been so selfish. I didn't think about the way you were feeling."

San's warm hand grabs yours. "I'm so sorry that it's taken me so long to see how you feel about me. I'm so sorry I said that you didn't know where your place was. Your place..." He takes a big deep breath, making you look at him, "Your place is right next to me. I lost you for one day and in that one day, I've realized what you really mean to me. I'm in love with you, y/n."

He places his hand on your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even notice. You're falling apart at his touch but you were so happy that he felt the same way and- Oh my god! Choi San was in love with you!

"You just said you were in love with me." You breathed, a smile breaking out on your lips.

"I did, didn't I?" He chuckles, closing the distance between your faces. Your breath hitches. "Are you going to give me a chance to love you for real this time?"

Your heart is going to burst and you don't really give it much thought.

"Yes."

[honeyhenry]

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie​ is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours” 

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement. 

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.” 

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him. 

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit. 

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs  to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-” 

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

taglist: @ohmygoodie​ @michelehansel​ @la-cey​ @palaiasaurus64​ @sassy-pelican​ @brandycranby​

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[transmogrified-in-the-void]

(prompt) some human wakes up to find their quirrel plush has become the real quirrel

I am. so sorry this took so long it literally was bc i couldnt find a good name for the human ;-; but i hope you enjoy!

Amalia's had their Quirrel plush since they were ten years old. Having been enamored by the world Team Cherry had made, and further drawn in by the pillbug met throughout the Knight's journey, their parents had gotten it as a gift. One that they cherished with everything they had.

The Quirrel plush had seen them through some of the hardest moments of their life. Their parents divorce, Grandma Gigi's death, moving across the country, everything that went down in high school, he was there for it all. During the nights where Amalia couldn't hold it in anymore, he helped with the tears.

He was even there for the greatest moments of her life, too. Meeting their best friend, graduating high school, college, moving into their first apartment, he followed. After two decades of intense love and many cuddles, he had become worn down and faded, but loved no less.

Amalia had thought that the Quirrel plush that had seen them through so much would stay with them forever. At least, that would have been the case if it wasn't for the fact that they had to puppy-sit their best friend's dog.

They don't even know how he got within eating range of the puppy, but he did while they had been in the bedroom trying to find something. And they had returned to see gaping holes in his body, and fluff everywhere.

They gently, quickly, took plush Quirrel out of the puppy's mouth and gave her the dog toy she was supposed to chew on, and barely made it to the closest room with a door before she started to cry.

Amalia knew, logically, that they could get Quirrel fixed, but at that point it wasn't going to be the Quirrel that had lived more than half a lifetime with them, not anymore. So they cried and mourned the loss of their dearest possession, and most trusted confidant, until the sky was dark.

So Amalia put the puppy into her kennel, and went to bed.

---

Quirrel is left in a box on the highest shelf until Amalia's best friend comes to take her back. Then, and only then, do they take the box down.

And almost drops it when there's the sound of a small voice inside.

They put the box on the table and carefully peer over the side, expecting to see a motion activated soundbox and the remains of Quirrel, only to see . . . Quirrel?

"Oh my! What is this?" The small, moving, real Quirrel hums. He can't be bigger than Amalia's hand, and, taking a closer look at the box, it seems that his nail (sword? it looks more like a sword) is sharp enough to semi-cut through cardboard.

They look back at Quirrel (living, breathing Quirrel), who's staring up at them, and Amalia realizes that they never answered.

"Um, hi? I'm Amalia." They tell the pillbug, who blinks and tilts his head.

"Amalia? I've certainly never heard that name before. Then again, my memory comes and goes now." He mumbles to himself, before perking up slightly. "I'm Quirrel. Where are we, and do you have food and water?"

How . . . How long has he been here? They quickly look up what a pill bug eats (to which Quirrel looks even more confused, somehow), and sighs. At least he won't go hungry.

And they're realizing that they've forgotten to answer a question. Again. "You're in my apartment right now, in Boise. But I don't think city and state matters, since you probably came from Hallownest, right?"

"Are you a Higher Being?" Quirrel asks, and Amalia laughs.

"No, no, just a human." They say, and see Quirrel squint his eyes at them. "A human is like, if a bug's outside shell was a blueprint for their body, but the blueprint was inside and all the squishy stuff was outside. And like, a thousand times larger." Never in their life had they ever thought that they would have to describe humans in relation to a bug, to a bug. "Food and water?"

Quirrel relaxes slightly, and nods before sitting down. Amalia takes an apple out of the fridge, slices it, and puts two slices in the box, as well as a dipping sauce cup full of water.

Taking his nail (sword?), he cuts some of the apple off and spears it before bringing it closer to him. "Thank you, Amalia." He nods at them.

As they watch him eat, they can't help but think that this is just the beginning.

-------

and i was gonna add more but this is all i could write. who knows, maybe i add more to the adventures of amalia and quirrel

[robininthelabyrinth]

LXC is the legal guardian and adopter for LSZ or LJY, and NMJ has questions.

part 2 of the LJY-adopted-by-LQR fic (now also on ao3)

-

“So, did I knock you up before I went to war or something?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Because I feel like you should’ve mentioned it if that was the case. Possibly in a letter.”

Lan Xichen was so tired that it took him a solid minute to parse what was wrong with that sentence and how to respond, and it was not by following his first instinct to apologize that he should’ve written better letters.

“Stop making fun of me,” he said instead, groping towards some measure of dignity.

Sadly, dignity was in very short supply when you were taking care of babies. Multiple babies. Well, one baby and one toddler, which was somehow worse?

Lan Xichen was pretty sure they’d figured out how to time their crying off each other.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue said, like a liar, and then he picked up little Jingyi and – Lan Xichen simply cannot find another way to put it – shook him, in a manner not unlike testing a melon for freshness.

For some reason, this made Lan Jingyi stop crying and start making snuffling little giggles instead.

“How did you do that?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes wide.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue tucked the baby into the crook of his arm and scooped up some food off the table, offering it to him, and Lan Jingy actually ate it. “Xichen, are you feeling all right?”

“Shhh!” Lan Xichen hissed, eyes fixed on the baby, which was neither spitting up everything nor wailing as if his heart was broken. “No unnecessary noise during meals.”

Nie Mingjue snorted in amusement. “Sure,” he said amiably, in the tone Lan Xichen had long ago learned meant ‘nice rules you’ve got there, it’d be an awful shame if someone found a loophole in them’. “This isn’t a meal, though; it’s just a snack.”

Lan Xichen eyed the still-not-crying Lan Jingyi and decided that now was not the time for a spirited debate on the virtues of discipline and fulfilling the merits rather than the word of a rule.

“Where’s monster number one gone?” Nie Mingjue asked abruptly. “He must be very good at hiding, because I looked away for a blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes slowly dropped down to where a cloth-covered lump was not-so-sneakily edging towards Nie Mingjue’s foot.

Nie Mingjue was one of the foremost front line fighters of their generation, and possibly the previous one as well. His physical ability was matched only by his incredibly keen senses.

There was no way he was not aware of the lump.

“It’s a real shame, too,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I was planning on doing a test of how far you can throw children, but I think monster two here’s a bit too small to make the test worthwhile. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be –”

You can’t throw children, Lan Xichen was about to say, except Lan Sizhui was tearing off the tablecloth and jumping up in excitement, shouting, “Here! Here! I’m here! I’m big enough! You can throw me!”

“Why does he want to be thrown,” Lan Xichen murmured, bewildered. He’d never wanted to be thrown around as a child. Had he?

In fairness, he wasn’t sure. No one had ever offered.

Apparently, though, Lan Sizhui did very much want to be thrown around, and Lan Jingyi even condescended to allow Lan Xichen to hold him while he watched.

“Higher! Higher!” Lan Sizhui shouted.

“Really? Is this high enough?” Nie Mingjue held him up at eye level.

“Higher!”

“Like this?” Above his head.

“Higher!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“All right. How about –” Baxia slithered out from her place by the door, zipping over until she was right in front of Nie Mingjue, allowing him to step onto her like a stair, and then zipping upwards to about hip-height, lifting Nie Mingjue and Lan Sizhui with her. They very nearly hit a tree branch with their heads. “– this?”

Lan Sizhui shrieked with laughter.  

“It’s too early to introduce them to flying,” Lan Xichen objected, because it was. “Mingjue-xiong…”

Nie Mingjue hopped down with a laugh. “All right, one last toss,” he told Lan Sizhui. “Then you nap. Okay?”

“Okay!” Lan Sizhui, who had never once willingly succumbed to naptime in the entirety of the time that Lan Xichen had known him, promised earnestly.

Back into the pile of soft grass he went, giggling the entire time, and amazingly enough he really did fall asleep afterwards. Lan Jingyi, too, had fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve decided that your brother needs more experience running a sect,” Lan Xichen told Nie Mingjue, who raised his eyebrows. “Starting immediately. I promise to allow you to leave when Jingyi is, oh, shall we say five years old..?”

You could reason with a five year old. 

Nie Mingjue laughed.

It was a type of laugh that suggested that he thought Lan Xichen was making a joke. This was incorrect.

“You’d be amazed at how serious I am,” Lan Xichen told him threateningly, “I’m sect leader here, this is my territory, I can have you arrested any time –” but by that point Nie Mingjue was already bundling him off to bed, too, combing out his hair and plying him with snacks and –

This was not helping his argument that Lan Xichen should be allowing him to leave rather than keep him trapped in the Cloud Recesses as a babysitter-slash-love-slave. 

Well, he wouldn’t really do that, of course. He’d let him go. Eventually.

It’d probably be good for Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, honestly.

“Seriously, though, how did you do that?” he asked, his head on Nie Mingjue’s lap. “They didn’t cry once.”

“I’m good with kids,” Nie Mingjue said, his fingers digging into Lan Xichen’s scalp in just the right way. “Now can you explain to me how exactly you ended up with them? Two, no less?”

Lan Xichen groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. “Sizhui’s Wangji’s,” he explained. “Not biologically, but he’s put his name down in the family register under his own. But, you know…”

“I know.”

Lan Xichen appreciated that he didn’t need to go into it. The doctors had estimated that Lan Wangji would regain full mobility within three years, so that was the period the elders had mandated for his so-called ‘seclusion’, but with Lan Wangji being locked away like that – even with visitors, even though he was trying his hardest to care for the child from where he was – meant that someone had to care for the child’s day-to-day life until his brother was ready to resume the role.

“Jingyi is a cousin, I think,” he continued. “His parents are dead, and uncle accepted guardianship for him…I think he’s going to adopt him, actually.”

“Then why is he with you?”

“I volunteered.”

“Xichen, I say this with a full heart of affection and tremendous respect for your capabilities,” Nie Mingjue said. “But why in the world would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Lan Xichen sighed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t stupid – he was, quite obviously, terrible with children.

“Uncle’s still injured from the war,” he admitted. In fact, his injury was probably even older than the war, dating as far back as the burning of the Cloud Recesses – his uncle had never been much of a fighter, his impressive cultivation strength stemming almost entirely from gentler arts like music and learning and meditation, but when his home and his family and his students were at risk, he’d fought, while Lan Xichen ran. Not just fought; he’d kept fighting long past the point that his body allowed. It only made sense for the bill to need to be paid. “He had a recurrence of an old complaint, not long ago; he started coughing up blood. The doctors insisted that he try to avoid anything that might cause him  stress.”

“Stress. Like, say, a rowdy infant?”

“Exactly like a rowdy infant,” Lan Xichen agreed, glad that Nie Mingjue did not mention that what had happened with Lan Wangji was also likely a source of stress. At least the two of them had slowly started to repair their relationship recently – the heartbreak would kill their uncle sooner than anything else, and Lan Xichen might be weak, but he really couldn’t tolerate the idea of suffering any more loss.

And also, if Lan Wangji could see his way to forgiving their uncle, he might one day agree to forgive Lan Xichen, too.

“I see. So you ended up with the little one, too.”

“Yes. And they hate me.” Nie Mingjue coughed a little. “No, don’t deny it. They clearly hate me. They always cry and spit and yell -”

“They’re children, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. “Traumatized children. They do that.”

Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Nie Mingjue was frowning in memory of pain long past. Lan Xichen remembered, with painful clarity, how young Nie Huaisang had been when Lao Nie had died, how badly he had taken it.

There’d been a lot of crying and vomiting and yelling there as well.

“You’re good with kids,” Lan Xichen said instead of commenting, trading delicacy for delicacy; he would not touch Nie Mingjue’s still-bleeding wounds just as Nie Mingjue avoided his own. “Very good.”

“Well, I like to think so, anyway.”

They remained in blissful, comfortable silence for a while.

“How would it have even worked?” Lan Xichen finally asked. His eyes were still closed, Nie Mingjue’s fingers running through his hair; he never wanted to move again.

“Hmm?”

“If you knocked me up before you went to war. I mean, they’re not even the same age.”

“Well, one of them’s from the affair, obviously.”

“I’m sorry, am I cheating on you now?” Lan Xichen opened an eye and pinned Nie Mingjue with a fierce look that instructed his lover to reconsider.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, mock-solemnly. His eyes were dancing. “You were so distraught after receiving incorrect news of my untimely demise that you conducted a ghost marriage with my spirit, and then went and had a child to continue my name.”

“…they’re both surnamed Lan.”

“So what? Are you saying I’m not good enough to marry into your sect, is that it?”

Lan Xichen’s cheeks were hurting from trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of implying such a thing.”

“There you go, then.”

“Can I ask why I felt the need to have a child to continue your name if I had one already?”

“…well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lan Xichen burst out laughing.

[thefanficmonster]

Inky Memories

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use (Past), Domestic Violence (Past), Shoplifting (Past)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Tattoos can reveal a lot about a person. What will Y/N’s tattoos, which she has kept hidden for so long, reveal to Corpse? Will it change anything between them?

Requested by Anon. If you’re reading this you know who you are 😊 Thank you for the request, hope you like what I did with it. Sorry if I made it too angsty! And my most sincere apologies for publishing it so late. Enjoy XOXO ❤

“Guys, come on now! I’m not hiding anything!“ I laugh, looking up from the comments to the camera, “You know how much I hate being embarrassed! Believe me when I say these tattoos are EMBERRASSING. I got them while I was either drunk or in my emo phase and I’m not too proud of them.“

I’m currently doing an Instagram live Q&A session that I scheduled last week. I do one every month and it’s my favorite way of connecting with my audience. An hour of chill lo-fi and questions and answers. I get really excited every time I schedule the session. My fans are such amazing people and they are all so supportive, funny, intelligent...I could go on and on about their positive qualities. One thing I’m not too fond of is their persistent curiosity. Here’s why.

Yesterday, while streaming, I got an unexpected pain in my forearm. Instinctively, I lifted my shirt sleeve to see what was wrong, flashing a few tattoos at my viewers in the process. I’ve never mentioned my tattoos to my audience, not even my boyfriend, actually, so to have this much attention on them so suddenly makes me want to hide them even more. People started commenting on them during the stream and I tried to dodge the majority of the questions, but I knew they would be inevitable during the Q&A. If the session hadn’t been scheduled for like a week at that point I maybe would’ve postponed it until the dust settled. 

“I have several. Not only on my arm.“ I only answer these vague questions. I avoid the ones that are asking details like what is depicted with the tattoos and what’s their meaning, bla, bla, bla.

Here’s the thing. I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen at this shady alley tattoo shop and I’ve been obsessed with tattoos since. I made a deal with myself to get at least one every year.

Needless to say, I’m twenty years old and have almost the same number of tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed of them. And I lied when I said they were embarrassing. I am quite happy with them, the way they look, at least. Each of them represent something different. Unfortunately, they are representative of some dark and depressing times. Times I want only the fewest of few people to know about.

“Yes, he’s here. You can’t see him, but he’s waving. He says hi.“ Corpse is the perfect distraction. My viewers love him just as much - maybe more - as they love me. 

He knows how easily I get overwhelmed by the attention and pressure of thousands of eyes on me and whenever I’m having a hard time while streaming all he has to do is walk in my recording room and just say the most random thing. Recently, his go-to phrase has been ‘Chicken wing’ and it always cracks up both me and my viewers.

Speaking of Corpse, him and I have been dating for over a year now. We moved in together a month or two before quarantine was officially a thing so we have been together 24/7. It’s scary how many things you can pick up on when you spend so much time with someone. That, of course, means he has noticed some of my tattoos. He has asked me about them, like why I cover them up and why am I so secretive about them and I’ve always been vague and indirect with my answers. He’s the sweetest and most patient person ever, so he has never pressed me with the questions, but I’m still hoping to gain the courage to reveal them to him someday.

“Thanks for tuning in, guys! See you tomorrow for my regular stream and next month for a chill hang out like this one. Love you, stay safe. Mwah!“ And with that the live video is done and I can finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Now we can order dinner“ I smile at Corpse who is chilling on the couch in my recording room. He looks up from his phone screen, returning my smile. “Were you recording a Behind The Scenes again?“

He does that often, not only with my Instagram lives but sometimes my streams as well. That’s actually how we revealed our relationship to our fanbases. 

He nods, “Yeah.” He pauses for a second, switching to a sitting position with his feet touching the floor. We’re almost at eye-level now. His arms snake around my waist as he pulls me closer towards him. I take the hint and settle in his lap, my legs on either side of him. “I admire how well you handled the pressure back there. I know how you feel about that topic.”

The small bit of anxiety that has started spreading throughout my chest disappears. He has that calming effect on me. Like my own personal safety blanket that’s with me at all times. “I wouldn’t have handled it so well if you weren’t here with me.” I say as I run a hand through his hair, moving a few stray curls away from his gorgeous eyes.

He shakes his head, making the strands fall back over his eyes, “It has nothing to do with me, Y/N. You are simply an amazing person, that’s all.“ His cold hand cups my burning red cheek, leaning my head down so our foreheads are touching. “Nothing could change my mind about it.“

That sentence causes a small pang in my chest. I feel like a manipulator. I’ve led this man to fall in love with me without knowing the past versions. I realize it’s incredibly manipulative of me to reveal my dark aspects only after we’re head over heels for one another, but I can live with it. If it were up to me, he’d never have to know. He would never have to find out that I’m not the amazing person he thinks I am. I have been broken countless times before and all my pieces are just glued in place. Not all of them are where they’re supposed to be and some of them are on the verge of breaking off. Just like a mirror. You can put all the pieces together but not only will you see the cracks, the shards can fall at any moment. 

My tattoos are to me as the cracks are to the mirror - evidence of my fragility and the many falls and breaks I’ve had throughout my life.

“Are you sure about that?“ I whisper, trying my hardest to engrave every detail of this moment in my mind because, after what I’m about to do, I’m afraid we might never be like this again.

The softness of his curls, his scent, his warmth, the way he makes me feel. I can hardly believe I’m risking losing all of that, but I owe him the truth.

I feel him nod against my forehead. I tense up and pull away so I can look him in the eyes. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact especially when I’m fighting back tears. I can’t even say I’m about to lose him. I’m about to let him go. It’s up to him if he stays or decides that he deserves better.

No backing out, Y/N.

I grab the hem of my sweater and lift it up, revealing the many ink drawings on my skin. I discard the sweater on the floor, leaving me in only my bra meaning all my tattoos are on display. Not exactly all, I have some on my legs as well, but these are some of the most important ones. The ones which reveal most about who I used to be.

Corpse takes my hands, tilting my arms so he can take a better look at the tattoos that go from my wrists to the bend of my arm. His thumbs caress the tattoo on each of my wrists. “This one... “ I nod to my left wrist, “I got on my friend’s birthday. We both did. They’re matching.“ The tattoo depicts a heart with a keyhole. “She got the key.“

“I thought I had the key.“ He says, smirking up at me.

“You do now.“ I feel the pang again but this time it doesn’t go away. It’s a constant pain - a constant fear. Being scared of something inevitable is the most nerve-wracking feeling. It makes you feel small, helpless, like you’re standing aside watching your life be controlled by a force you can’t see.

Before he can break me even more, I go on, nodding to my upper arm, a little below my shoulder where there’s a rope tattoo that bends around my arm, its ends connecting in a bow, “I got this one after my shoulder healed.”

His brows furrow in concern as he tilts my head for me to look at him, “Healed from what?”

Here we go. Let the cat out of the bag. “Um....well...” I instinctively reach up to touch my shoulder, running my fingertips over the inked rope. “My dad wasn’t a very nice guy.”

I can pinpoint the second his heart breaks. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it will kill me, so I just continue, moving onto the one on my other wrist where the word ‘Shadow’ is written in cursive writing, “This was my nickname in my friend group. I was the only one to never get caught shoplifting.”

The tears are gonna start rolling at any moment so I deliver the final blow, moving onto the most traumatic event, aka the tattoo on my collarbone of a heartbeat turning into a dead line and kicking up again, “This one I got after I woke up from my almost overdose.”

As if on cue, a tear falls from my eye onto his hand that’s still holding mine. My voice remains still, to my surprise, but I know it won’t be long before it too gives and breaks. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see any sympathy or that look like he doesn’t recognize me. I feel like I’ve let both myself and him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?“ he asks me in a whisper. He sounds almost hurt. “You know you can tell me anything.“

I see another tear fall, “I know. I just...didn’t want you to think any less of me.“

Again, he lifts my head so he can look me straight in the eyes. He knows how much I struggle with eye contact and how much I hate crying in front of people, he knows how vulnerable I feel when someone’s looking me in the eyes or when someone sees me cry. He also knows that he’s the only exception to that rule. He knows I never feel out of place when he’s around. 

“Think less of you? Babe, you’re a fighter like no other. You picked you life back up. You did all that on your own. You’re a warrior, Y/N.“

I smile through the tears which are now ones of joy instead of fear and dread. “I was a dumb teenager, Corpse. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to get a thrill and feel something other than pain. I know I went about it the wrong way but...” he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, “And you’re wrong, I didn’t do it all on my own.” I release his hand so I can cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine as I swipe my thumb on his cheekbone, “I met you a month after I left the hospital. The rest you know. I moved to a less druggie populated part of town and I repaired my relationship with my aunt. All that time, I was balancing between the need to relapse and the will to stay alive. After I met you, that balancing act was no longer a balancing act at all. I didn’t even think about my past anymore. I was more focused on what I could be. On what I have to be to deserve to have you by my side.” 

“You will always have me on your side, Y/N. Even when you don’t want or need me there.“ With both his hands holding mine he leans forward, connecting our lips. It’s a short kiss laced with nothing but love and adoration. 

As we lay on the couch, him asking about each individual tattoo I didn’t get to tell him about, everything just seems a lot easier. Like a big area that was previously dark has suddenly turned into the brightest point of our relationship.

“I need to get that key tattooed. It’s only appropriate.“ He says, his finger tracing the heart on my wrist.

“Or an ownership deal for it. That heart’s yours, you know.“ I laugh, lifting my arm to inspect the oldest painting on my body, “It’s your favorite one?”

“No.” he shakes his head, “This is my favorite one.” he leans down and kisses the heartbeat on my collar bone. “I’m so glad it started beating again.”

“I am too.“

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus

[forever-rogue]

prompt request! “I’ve never been anyone’s anything.” “You’re everything to me.” - with Frankie 🥺

I hope you enjoy! I am so soft for Frankie!

Frankie x Fem!Reader

No Warnings

»»————-　♡　————-««

This was the hardest, no scratch that, worst time of the year.

It wasn't that you hated the holidays, no they weren't so bad themselves, it was just...everything else.

It was hard to constantly smile and be happy when you were single and alone during the holidays. Again. Year after painstaking year.

The whole single thing wasn't the worst part either, it was just...the fact that everything seemed to remind you of that seemingly the world was coupled up while you were by yourself. That and the fact that every family member in the world seemed to ask the same questions every year at your holiday gatherings.

Who are you seeing?

When are you settling down and getting married?

When are you going to have children?

The whole lot of it was enough to exhaust you, mentally, spiritually, and physically and often maybe you contemplate avoiding you any holiday gathering all together. Yet you still managed to drag yourself to them and get through it all, plastering on a fake smile as you politely answered their questions. Your answers were always short and to the point, but you still remained polite...despite the fact that you wished the ground would swallow you up whole.

Maybe this year you would just skip everything. But then you'd have to answer as to why you weren't with the family. Shit.

It was a catch-22.

But there was another idea that quickly crossed your mind. It wasn't the best, you probably should have just let it go, but something inside you was just nagging at you and telling you to do it.

Before you knew it, your phone was in hand and you had dialed Frankie's number. Sometimes you were beyond thankful for your best friend.

"Hey bee," he answered after a few rings, his voice immediately soft and gentle, causing your heart to settle and a sense of peace wash over you.

"Hi Frankie," immediately a sense of unease and nerves washed over you as you realized just exactly what you were asking of him. You closed your eyes and let out a soft sigh and decided to just do it. It was now or never, "can I ask you for a favor? Kind of a big one..."

"Shoot," you could hear a note of concern in his voice as he came to the conclusion that something was up, "is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "I just...will you come with me to my family's holiday party next weekend?"

"Of course," he laughed lightly; it was a weird thing of you to ask him or completely out of the blue, he would often go with you to family things.

"Umm, there's a catch," you blurted, "I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

"Oh. Oh?" a stunned silence met you on the other end.

"Yeah," you feigned a laugh, hoping he wouldn't suddenly back out, "its just that...I don't know if I can handle another year of everyone asking me why I'm single and whatnot. They already know you and love you so it would be easy."

"Okay," he answered after a few awkward, tense beats of pause, "yeah, we can...we can definitely do that."

"Thank you so much, Frankie," you let out a sigh of relief, "I owe you big time. I love you so much!"

"Yeah...just let text me all the details later," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "umm, I have to go now. I'll talk to you later."

"Sounds good," you already felt so much better, "talk to you soon!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time your family Christmas party rolled around, you were feeling an odd mixture of emotions. Happy, because you wouldn't be alone and your best friend would be by your side. Relieved that you could dodge the annoying questions from your family. And yet, you were also feeling a sense of...nerves?

As you prepared to go, taking a long hot shower and indulging in some self care an odd sense washed over you. Slipping on the pretty dress you'd picked out, hoping Frankie would like it too, you suddenly found yourself nervous realizing that he was the cause of your nerves. Although only posing as your boyfriend for the night, part of you couldn't help but wonder would it be like if he really was your boyfriend. You wished he was; you wished you could call him yours. But no; he was just your handsome friend that you were hopelessly in love with.

Bummer.

As you finished doing your hair and make up to just how you liked it, a knock came at your door before Frankie opened it and announced himself.

"In here!" you called out to him as you listened to his heavy footfalls, taking a deep breath to steady and remind yourself that was just your best friend. Nothing more and nothing less.

But as you sat finished putting in your earrings, you heard the creak of the floor followed by a small, "wow."

"Hi Frankie," you turned and offered him a smile before almost losing whatever bit of cool you had at the sight of him. He was handsome as ever, dressed in a well fitting pair of pants and button up, his dark curls styled elegantly and not hidden under his signature hat for once. He was perfection.

"Wow yourself, Frankie," you beamed at him, "you look wonderful - handsome."

"This?" a tinge of pink flushed his cheeks as he tried to play off your compliment, "its nothing much...but thank you."

"I'll just be a minute and then we can go," you went to back to the mirror and studied yourself, making sure you looked exactly how you wanted. It was hard to keep your eyes off of Frankie; he looked so handsome and sweet it was almost hard to define the line between remembering he was a friend and wanting nothing more than to have him. Instead you tried to focus on your reflection, "thanks again for doing this Frankie. I owe you big time, maybe dinner and movie marathon this weekend? I'll even let you pick the movies."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "that sounds good. Umm...can I ask you something?"

"Anything, you know that."

"Why me? Why do you even need a fake boyfriend to bring? You've gone alone or with me as friends..." his question made your heart stop as you looked up and met his eyes in the mirror. He looked just as confused as you felt.

"Firstly, why not you? You're my best friend, and we both know you're a total catch," you turned around and held out your hand as if to say obviously, "and I dunno. I just can't handle another year of being ambushed with questions about why I'm single and how I'll end up as a spinster. I'd just like it to be different for one year...to feel like I actually mean something to someone. Even if it just for a night."

"What do you mean?" an offended and upset look crossed his features as he put his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him. You said too much. Too damn much and now you felt like a fool that was just about to cry, "do you have any clue how much you mean to me? And so many others?"

"I know, obviously you're my best friend," you feigned a weak laugh as you tried to work your way around this conversation, "I lo- care about you too. Tremendously. But I mean...I've been never been anyone's anything. I've never had someone love and care for me, its always been a boyfriend or so here and there but nothing real. And I know its stupid to be so upset about it, but for just one night I want to feel like maybe I could be that for someone. Maybe one day I will...I dunno, Frankie. I probably sound like an idiot. Either way...I just...thank you."

Before you could move away or do anything, Frankie gently, ever so tenderly, reached up and wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You allowed your gaze to meet his and found yourself staring at wide, nervous eyes.

"I can't believe you think that about yourself little bee," he whispered quietly, "you are everything to me. Everything."

"Frankie-"

"Listen, please, just let me say what I have too or I'm afraid I never will," he slid his hands down your arms and let himself inhale and exhale deeply. There was a best of silence before he steadied himself, "I am so in love with you. I have been for a long time...I just never...I couldn't bring myself to say it. But I have never just thought of you a friend."

"You don't have to-"

"I mean it," he insisted as he took your hand and pulled you closed to him, "I wish I would have told you a long time ago. But I couldn't just listen to you say these things when they're not true."

"Frankie..." you paused as you looked at your entwined hands, contemplating your next action. You brought your other hand to his cheek, gently touching his skin. There was a moment of hesitation before you decided to dive right in and kiss him.

It was a slow, sweet thing as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your frame against his. A hand was around your waist and the other cradled the back of your head as you carded a hand through his dark locks. It was like there was no learning curve, no trying, just like it was meant to be. When you pulled apart, both of you reluctantly, you couldn't help the megawatt grin that was on your face. The matching one on Frankie's face was enough to send butterflies fluttering in your belly.

"I umm...I love you, Frankie," you stated the obvious as the two of you laughed, "I guess that's kind of obvious, huh?"

"I like hearing it," he admitted as you felt a flush of warmth run over your face, "why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why didn't you?"

"Nervous," you both admitted at the same time. You shook your head, wishing you hadn't been such a fool for so long. But before you could lament anything, Frankie quickly captured your lips for another kiss, this one almost shy, but still saccharine.

"You better stop because I could get used to that," you teased as he just grinned.

"I will kiss you every day then," he promised, "and then some."

"I'd like that," you agreed, "I'd like that a lot."

"You're not the only one," he reached for your jacket and helped you put it on, "but we better go before we're late. You know how your mom gets."

"Is it bad I don't want to go? Can we just stay here instead?"

"Don't you want to go and introduce everyone to your boyfriend?" he said with another gentle peck, "I'm sure they're dying to know who it is."

"Well, when you put it like that, how can I refuse?" you agreed as you helped straighten his shirt, "are you free after? Tonight?"

"For you? Always, mi vida," he promised as he kissed the top of your head, "now let's go and have fun. Everything else can wait for later."

"Hey Frankie?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you," you whispered softly as he seemed to melt at your words.

"I love you too, bee. Always and forever."

[theseerasures]

why is it so hard to defect from Atlas?

Barbara Dunkelmann said during Comic-Con at Home last year that this season’s theme would be “distrust,” but i’m wondering now if the more appropriate word is “discontent.” since Divide, we’ve had arguments big and small, teams splitting up and recombining, and of course, :( and :/ galore at all the war, all the crimes, all the war crimes, and all the general bad decisions (not to be confused with James Ironwood, General Bad Decisions). we’ve now had our first major defections of the season with Hazel and Emerald, which is...interesting to me; they’re both long-runners, certainly, but part of the reason they’re long-running is because their arcs have ALWAYS been on a slow boil. for the defection to happen around the mid-season mark, a lot of things (particularly for Hazel) had to happen very quickly, particularly since they both skipped out the previous season altogether. this is made all the more interesting by the fact that the Atlesian supporting cast who filled the time in season 7 are similarly discontented, but...well, a generous reading of it would be that they’re still “figuring things out,” but we’ve also been watching them “figure things out” for two seasons now, Winter and Marrow especially. why did Hazel and Emerald defect first when they work for the main villain, when Winter and the AceOps--who have taken up more screen time cumulatively during the Atlas arc--are still hemming and hawing to various degrees?

long discussion under the cut--but the tl;dr is: it’s because they live in a (narratively constructed) society

i’m actually gonna start with the discontent that DIDN’T result in defection, which is obviously the Yang-Ruby split. we’ve known that members of Team Protagonist--most notably Yang and Ren--have had doubts for a while now, and sure enough, when push comes to shove they pick a path separate from their implicit leader. as protagonists Yang and Ren are frequently our POV characters, so we’re predisposed to sympathize with them as they doubt Ruby’s agenda, root for them as they bring it up to Ruby in conversation, and...watch as they...regretfully but cordially agree to disagree...

wait, what?

that’s the thing about Team Protagonist, especially at this point in the narrative: everyone feels safe and secure enough in themselves and in each other to communicate openly, even when they disagree. every time Yang felt uncomfortable she talked to somebody about it, and even Ren--Mr. Weaponizing Repression himself--was able to express how he felt. even if it took some prodding from Nora/Yang, even if the direction of his emotions ended up misfiring and hurting his friends--they’re his friends. his family, even. Team Protagonist is able to act and stay together so effectively because they make open communication a priority: they follow Ruby’s lead, but they also trust that Ruby will LISTEN to them, even if she doesn’t always agree.

(the reason they had this disagreement at all is because of the time they couldn’t talk things through, and just had to uncritically back Ruby’s play--when they first entered Atlas. funny, that.)

Team Salem obviously doesn’t work the same way, and this season has made it particularly explicit just how much everyone lives in a state of constant fear and surveillance. what makes solidarity and eventual rebellion possible (though terrifying), though, are two things: first, Salem--being an upstart herself--actually encourages a level of individual initiative in her followers (well. encouraged; i have a feeling with the Hound being a success and Hazel and Emerald’s defection she’s about to change her tune). she’s a master manipulator, and uses people’s individual wants to sway them to her side; but she’s also not a mind-reader, which is kind of biting her in the ass right now.

second, Salem herself is so many LEAGUES beyond everyone else on her “team” that (unless you’re actively trying to be a tit) there...isn’t actually much of a hierarchy beyond “Salem’s in charge.” Watts and Cinder--both Atlesian to varying degrees, mind--are the two who try the hardest to carve out some authority of their own, but even Watts is at least convivial with everyone (except Cinder). to be on Team Salem you have to accept that this is her world and you just live in it, and that ends up equalizing people from very disparate backgrounds with very disparate personalities and skillsets. no one, not even Tyrian, is under the delusion that Salem cares about them, or will listen to their counsel. so when it comes to the least of her followers--Emerald, who (joke copyright @professorspork) is basically Salem’s grandpet, this gerbil who follows her around now for some reason and occasionally makes weird noises (”you mean crying?” Emerald asks, crying)--it’s actually quite easy for her to escape Salem’s notice until it’s too late, while firming up the solidarities that she has (Hazel and Mercury--not Cinder).

to defect, Emerald and Hazel need a degree of narrative interiority, some sense of security with each other (even if it’s just subconscious), and time. time to work things out from their point of view, pull the wool from their eyes. this season’s narrative has given them all that and more.

our Atlesian potential defectors...haven’t been so lucky, and the most recent episode has made that contrast very explicit.

i’m sure i’m not the only one who assumed, when Ironwood first floated the bomb plan, that we’d be getting some kind of Mission Impossible sneaky stealth shit. we’re used to seeing the AceOps do small squad missions, after all, and the timing felt right thematically too, since we left War with Ren literally expositing to all of them that they do, in fact, have feelings. an extended mission to themselves would give them a chance to air out those feelings away from Atlas’ own system of surveillance, figure out what to do together...

but we didn’t get any of that. instead, we got the whoosh laser kapow version of a Sassoon poem, and the AceOps barely talked to each other at all. the only points of view we got were from Marrow, and Winter.

this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to them this season, either--remember the Penny Retrieval mission that wasn’t? there were also hopes that Marrow and/or Winter would turn at that point, but then Salem invaded. Winter and the AceOps have had the potential to defect for a while now, but the narrative has been actively withholding opportunities for them to actualize on any of that potential. it’s been actively withholding opportunities for them to act as a team, period.

it’s possible to handwave this as writerly convenience--everyone can’t defect at the same time, the episodes don’t have room for it--but the ways that defections have been prioritized so that the Atlesians come after also points to a recurring motif with Atlas, which Elm says explicitly in Witch: you can deal with your issues later.

there’s always some kind of delayed promise at Atlas, isn’t there? the Amity project will help. Mantle’s Wall will get fixed (until it wasn’t). when Penny confronts Winter about leaving Mantle to die, Winter says first that they don’t have time, and it seems like they never actually do, except for in this imagined later, when they’ll reckon with every thing that they’ve done.

it doesn’t exist, of course. fascism is only able to remain effective through the engineering of crisis, and Salem might as well be a crisis perpetual motion generator. you can’t conscientiously object if your conscience is constantly stifled by the next emergency.

what the Atlesian scenes in Witch demonstrate is this: Atlas presses down all around them, at all times. even if the AceOps want to stop policing each other and work as a real team, they can’t right now, because they are now officers in a war, because they’re constantly looked to, because they’re part of an infinitely greater machine that demands their service. and right now lasts forever--you will NEVER have time to talk out your discontent...

and even if you steal time and perspective like Marrow does (like Emerald has been doing, thief that she is) with Winter, there is no guarantee of any solidarity. what makes their conversation so simultaneously fascinating and frustrating is that there is clearly some level of rapport, or at least recognition. Marrow goes to Winter because Winter’s in charge, but Marrow also goes to Winter because Winter might hear him out...and she does. Winter does what Winter has consistently done when a person seeks her out and earnestly asks to be heard, and responds compassionately. but at the same time, Winter does what Winter has consistently done when a person seeks her out and earnestly asks to be heard: she turns away. in a conversation that is supposed to be about a shared trust between the two of them, Winter cannot bring herself to trust Marrow. the Atlesian system is built out of these hierarchies within hierarchies, distrusts within distrusts (well i guess Barbara had a point after all), and Winter, abused kid that she is, has played this game all her life. so she defaults to rank and duty--what they have to do now--and the conversation goes nowhere. Marrow leaves it as alone and bitterly resigned as when he’d entered it.

so when is this moral inertia gonna go somewhere? IS it going somewhere? well, i’m still holding out hope that the AceOps will get some time to themselves as part of Bomb the Whale, and i’m certain that even if it doesn’t fall into their lap Marrow will eventually demand it. the fact that they still work well together on the field as partners should mean something. the question is, though: what will it take to bring that later to the present?

and at what point does it become too late?

[alpacaparkaseok]

Book of Soulmates

pairing: Jungkook x reader

premise: the boys decide that it’s high time for Jungkook to meet his soulmate - especially after he loses it during one of the most serious parts of the performance. 

“Oh! She’s also pretty good at Best of Me, but I’m telling you nothing will ever beat Jin’s part in-”

“I swear,” Jin interrupts the youngest, chuckling. “Do you know if the soulmate board has found her yet?”

Namjoon slaps Jin’s back a little too hard, completely oblivious. “Hyung, I think you want her to be found more than Jungkook. Are you gonna interrogate her or something?”

“No...I just have a few questions for her. Mainly, why me?”

Jungkook starts running in place, anxious for the concert to begin. “Well, we’ll see if she’s here tonight.”

Being a part of one of the most successful groups in the world certainly had its perks; one of those being the ability to track down soulmates.

It was something that the boys didn’t want to abuse, but it was also something that had them realizing that while many of them still hadn't met their soulmates - Hoseok had earlier in the year, by complete accident - it was high time for Jungkook to find his. 

It all started with a certain ballad. 

Jungkook shared a bond where he could hear whatever music his soulmate was currently listening to, so long as they were singing along. This gave his soulmate an obvious advantage: she easily found out that Jeon Jungkook was her soulmate. Who else had such a beautiful voice?

When the song ‘The Truth Untold’ finally graced the world, Jungkook anxiously awaited to hear if his soulmate liked the song. If she would sing it over and over again throughout the following weeks, at any time of day. He waited anxiously for the tell-tale sound of the girl singing in his head.

She loved the song.

And it’s been both a blessing and a curse ever since. 

Something that Jungkook has come to find out about his soulmate: she’ll do anything to make him laugh. And usually at the most inopportune times. 

Which is exactly what he’s preparing himself for right now, standing with the rest of the vocal line, struggling to keep a straight face. They’re nearing Jin’s part of the song, which is the hardest part to get through.

Mainly because of the horrible impression that echos through his head as his soulmate either sings the song in real time (it’s slightly alarming how many times she’s been right on time, regardless of the time zone Jungkook is currently in) or the memory of all the times he’s tried to imitate what it sounds like to his brothers has him barely holding back his laughter. 

So tonight when Jin, looking ever so serious, gracefully does his best, Jungkook can’t help but choke down a laugh. 

Not only does his soulmate pipe up at this exact moment, completely butchering Jin’s part in a way that he’s sure will always remain in his head, but Jin’s voice cracks. 

The other boys give Jungkook a side glace, practically threatening him with his life if he loses it on stage right now. So, he does the only other thing he knows to do. 

Lowering his head, he feigns crying even as his shoulders shake with laughter. 

After the song, as they rush below stage, Jungkook can’t contain his laughter anymore. Shoulders shaking while he gives Jin a pitiful look, he just shrugs.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps while laughing, “It’s just so good. A-and then your voice-”

“Yah!” Jin shouts, stalking away while hiding a smile. “Go get changed!”

As Jungkook prepares with the rest of the boys for the next stage, Sejin appears with a serious expression. Everyone falls silent, Jungkook’s stomach knotting. 

A couple of months ago Jungkook had sat down with the soulmate board of Bighit and filled out some paperwork which would hopefully help them to locate his soulmate. Tonight was the big test, and hearing her sing along was a sure sign. She’s here.

Jungkook had informed staff after their first set that he’d heard her singing along to every word. His hands were shaking as he did so. 

“Hey guys,” Sejin begins with a docile tone. “Concert’s been great. Just finish up this set strong, alright?”

Jungkook stares at the manager with wide eyes, not needing to voice the question but doing so anyways. “Did you guys...?”

Sejin nods, a little smile adorning his face. “Yeah, we found her. Gave her and her friend a pass to come backstage immediately after. They’ll be escorted back.”

Jungkook’s heart stops for a split second before taking off again. Nodding more to himself than anyone, he bounces around on his feet. “Let’s go, then.”

The rest of the concert is a strange blur. Now that he knows for certain that his soulmate is out there in the crowd, he can’t help but look for her. While he knows that the chances of him recognizing her on the spot are slim to none, he still can’t help but wonder who it may be. 

As the concert ends and Jungkook begins to descend below stage, he sees a couple of bodyguards weaving their way through the crowd, heading toward someone. He knows that they’re heading for his soulmate, to escort her backstage. 

What follows are a series of breathing exercises, shaking hands, and tight hugs and words of reassurance from his hyungs. Once he’s finally changed into normal clothes, he watches as everyone else eats some dinner. 

“You need to eat something, Jungkookie,” Jimin repeats for the third time. Jungkook stares at the food, not entirely seeing it. 

Hoseok chuckles knowingly, sitting beside him. He ruffles his hair. “You’ll be fine,” he coos. “Better than fine.”

Jungkook settles a little at Hoseok’s words, knowing that they carry a bit more weight as he’s already met his soulmate. The older boy lingers for a moment longer before sneaking out of the room to call his soulmate.

When Sejin comes to collect Jungkook, he feels as though he’s walking through concrete. Heart practically pounding out of his chest, he hardly hears whatever it is Sejin is saying to him. 

All too soon, they’re standing before a door which Jungkook knows they had hair and makeup done earlier. Sejin gives him a pat on the back. 

“Ok, final test. Sing something softly, maybe something you know that they’ll sing back. Just to make sure,” Sejin mumbles. 

Jungkook’s mind goes completely blank, but the last song that they sang today is still fresh in his mind. 

Ever so quietly, Jungkook sings out.

“So show me...”

Almost immediately another voice rings out, not nearly as timid. “I’ll show you.”

A smile breaking out on his face, Jungkook doesn’t wait any longer to throw the door open. 

Immediately his eyes fall on a girl that sits beside another one that is mid-bite. The other girl jumps up from the sofa, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

The two soulmates stare for a moment, minds blank as they try to compute what’s actually happening in this moment. The other girl continues eating, chuckling softly.

“Aren’t you going to talk to him?” She nudges her friend forward, earning a glare in response. 

Cheeks burning red, Jungkook’s soulmate chokes out, “Did...did I make you laugh today?”

Jungkook smiles while choking on a sob, stumbling forward until he envelopes his soulmate in his arms. 

“Yes,” he breathes out. “And now you’ve made me cry.”

masterlist

@ddaengineedhelp

[hetalia-reacts]

allies plus spain and austria revealing that theyre nations to their s/o? Love ur writing btw <33

Thank you (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

America

Alfred wouldn’t be that nervous to tell you the truth

Y’all have been together for a while now and he thinks that this will change nothing between you guys

He just tells you nonchalantly during another conversation

Like “yes you have absolutely have to pour the cereal first t h e n the milk oh btw I’m a country haha”

Alfred would get serious though depending on your reaction

If it’s good and you kinda believe him/roll with it/laugh it off he’ll be more assertive and show you proof of what he is

If you have a bad reaction and you get mad and ask why he never told you/what this means for your relationship Alfred gets super serious and takes your anger or grief maturely

Either way he wants to do all that he can to make you believe him while also keeping you as a S/O

Canada

Matthew takes a more serious and thought out approach

He thinks this conversation will change everything between the both of you

That’s what he’s so scared of and why he needs to take this super seriously

He’s gonna tell you that you both need to talk

Once he tells you he waits for your reaction to see if he can lighten up or if he needs to keep the serious atmosphere

If you need proof Matthew has it on him

If you need time to process he’ll give you how ever long you need

And if you’re scared of him/what’s gonna happen to your relationship he will do everything in his power to make you feel safe and secure again

The last thing Matthew would want from this is to lose you or your trust

England

Arthur is so serious it’s scary

I mean you can tell he’s been thinking about this for a while now because his mood has been down for the past few weeks

He’s just terrified of what you might do or think of him

He knows his past can be questionable, he knows his immortality can be scary to think about, and what bothers him the most is that he knows nothing about what your reaction could be

So he just sits you down over breakfast and tells you outright what he is while showing you pictures of him, France, Canada, and America to further prove himself

Arthur would be surprised if you had a good reaction to this, he would be expecting yelling not a gentle and accepting reaction

If you starting yelling or seemed to be panicking Arthur would try to calm you down but he’s also starting to panic and worry himself to death

No matter the reaction Arthur will try his hardest to remain calm and collected so it’s easier on you to process and hopefully accept

France

Francis wants to take a lighter less serious approach to this

He feels sitting them down for a serious talk will freak them out or make them think him being a country is a bad thing

So Francis decides to tell you at the end of a good day

He brings proof and keeps his tone light and calm in hopes to keep you level headed

He would be the most understanding and best at consoling his S/O if they were angry or overcome with worry about this

This isn’t his first rodeo after all

If you take the news well he politely asks if you want him to stay with you or leave for now so you can think some more without him there to possibly cloud your judgement

Francis is among the most worried about the decision you make after processing this

He’s been left behind before for many different reasons and hopes that the only reason you may leave him is because of old age

Russia

Ivan has no idea how to start this conversation with you

He’s terrified of what you may think of him, if you’ll view him like everyone else does after you knew the truth

Might unintentionally lock himself away in his office so he can think and try to curb his worry

It doesn’t work really but he eventually invites you into his office for a serious talk about your relationship

Ivan then proceeds to tell you literally everything, his proof is the way he retells everything he’s ever done with a scary amount of details

Reacting badly is what he expects, he won’t try to calm you down at all

Ivan will let you yell awful things at him, hit him, curse him, and blame him for everything if that’s what makes this easier for you

If you take the new well and even tell him you don’t mind/care about him being a country Ivan might cry on the spot

He isn’t used to people truly caring for him like that so having you say that and want to stay with him is more than anything he could’ve ever asked for

China

Yao isn’t going to beat around the bush

He doesn’t joke while reveling his true self to you

but he isn’t going to sit you down and talk all serious like

Yao just thinks he needs to tell you seriously enough so you believe him but not give you unnecessary stress by making it seem super important or scary

If you get mad and start yelling he may yell back

Yao just feels it’s unfair of you to get mad at him as if he asked to be a country and how he was supposed to tell you before hand when he wasn’t even supposed to be telling you now

If you take the news well he’ll just try to continue having a normal day with you

If you can’t do that he can respect that and give you space and time to think about the relationship and what you want to do now that you know

Spain

Antonio is similar to America in the sense that he doesn’t think it’s a big deal

He’s not fool enough to believe it won’t change anything between you at first, but he has hope it won’t end the relationship or leave a lasting scar

He brings up his status as a country very nonchalantly, showing you pictures and journals as if he was showing you an embarrassing family album

It’s going to be hard to get mad at Antonio after he tells you everything

He pretty much tells you the truth about him and his past immediately and tells you why he kept it a secret for as long as he did

If you do react badly he won’t blame you and he’ll be really sympathetic and feel guilty for dumping all this on you

If you react well and are okay with him being a country Antonio will just thank you, clear out his photos and journals, and then act like he didn’t just revel a huge secret to you

Austria

Roderich wants to take a serious approach to telling you this

He makes it really official feeling, possibly even asking you to meet with him in his office

He explains everything to you as soon as you sit down

Leaves no details out

tells you exactly who his friends Feliciano, Ludwig, and Elizabeta really are, and even shares some of the more unsavory parts of his past just so you know he’s not trying to con you or deceive you

Roderich hopes from how he put everything on the table that your reaction will at least be more confused or weirded out instead of angry or sad

If you do lash out Roderich keeps his cool and tries to talk you through it until your calm enough to think rationally

If you are confused/weirded out or take really well to the new information he will either leave you to your own thoughts until you want to speak or ask if you’d like to have some tea with him

Roderich really wants things to at least end civilly between the both of you if you won’t stay with him after learning what he is

[carryonotp]

haikyuu boys with an s/o who was recently raped

request: how atsumu, oikawa, akaashi, and tsukishima would react upon finding out that their s/o had recently been touched without their s/o’s consent

pairings: atsumu, oikawa, akaashi, tsukishima,

warnings: mentions of rape but doesn’t go into detail

Atsumu Miya

i feel like he would find out on accident

like, you didn’t mean to tell him, it just sort of slipped out.

you weren’t trying to keep secrets from him, but you were scared of what his reaction would be

but when he does find out,

he’s shocked, to say the least.

he definitely wasn’t expecting something like that to have happened to his sweet little s/o.

and he was definitely angry

because no one was allowed to touch you like that,

except for him, of course

but even though he’s really angry and wants to beat the living daylights out of whoever it was that touched you without your consent,

he refrains from doing so.

at least for now

and instead, he chooses to comfort you, because he knows that’s what you really need.

he’ll probably try not to touch you at first because he doesn’t want to scare you or anything.

but once he realizes you’re fine with it, he most likely won’t let you go.

he’ll make you something to eat,

even if he has to call osamu to figure out how to do it,

and once the two of you are done eating,

he’ll probably force you to cuddle with him and watch movies together until you’re felling at least a little bit better.

and even though he’s not always the best with words,

he’ll try his hardest to make sure you know he loves you and that what happened definitely wasn’t your fault

because he knows some people blame themeselves despite the fact that they had no control over the situation.

honestly, this is probably the sweetest you’ve ever seen him.

Oikawa Tooru

ok, so i really think this guy is oblivious to an extent.

like he genuinely doesn’t notice your mood changes at time, but other times he picks up on them in an instant.

and in this case, the latter applied.

he’s busy filming a tiktok

(personally, i like to think that when he’s not playing/practicing volleyball, he’s almost always on tiktok)

and you’re sitting on his bed, scrolling through your phone and acting very suspicious.

as usual, he turns around to ask you if you want to film a tiktok with him,

when he notices that your not in the best of moods.

of course, this makes him pout, and before you know it, he’s questioning you.

eventually, he realizes you don’t want to talk about it,

so he settles for cuddling instead.

except the second he touches you, you involuntarily flinch away.

and of course, he notices.

but before he can ask, you start crying.

you don’t let him say a word as you go on and on and on, telling him everything and begging his forgiveness.

hearing you all sad makes him sad, which in turn makes him start crying with you.

the second you stop talking, he starts.

he lets you know he doesn’t blame you and he’s not mad at you one bit.

he literally won’t let you leave until you understand that it wasn’t your fault and apologize for asking for his forgiveness in the first place.

like atsumu, he relies on cuddling with you to cheer you up most of the time,

but he also knows you might not be 100% okay with that at the moment.

so he tells you jokes and shows you tiktoks, and tells you every little detail about his latest volleyball game.

and that night, when he’s sure you’re fine with being touched again,

he holds you in his arms and makes sure you know how loved you truly are.

Akaashi Keiji

like oikawa, he definitely knows somethings up almost right away.

unlike oikawa, however, he doesn’t initially ask you about it.

he figures that if you want him to know, you’ll tell him eventually,

and if you don’t want him to know, he won’t pry too much.

it’s when he notices how distant you’re being that he really starts to worry about you.

usually, you were all over him.

you were constantly hugging him and holding his hand, doing everything you could to stay near him.

but despite the fact the two of you hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days, you were keeping your distance.

finally, his curiosity got the better of him.

“y/n”

you look up from what you’re doing, raising an eyebrow at him and managing to avoid eye contact in the process.

“is something bothering you?”

and those words were enough to make you break.

you hardly managed to get a word out in between your sobs, but it didn’t take much for akaashi to understand.

he was angry, and shocked, and hurt upon hearing your words, but he managed to remain calm.

he knew full well you probably wouldn’t want to be touched, so he asked first, waiting patiently for your answer.

in response, you hugged him tightly, letting him hold you tight.

akaashi wasn’t the most talkative person, but he managed to mutter a few words of comfort.

he would make sure you felt safe that night,

and he would refuse to let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes for quite some time after that.

he just wants you to know he loves you and would protect you with his life.

Tsukishima Kei

ok y’all, this boy is so observant it’s not even funny.

like he knew something was up the second he saw you and you avoided eye contact.

obviously, he wasn’t too happy about that,

but he figured he would make you pay for it later.

that is until he saw you talking to hinata.

normally, whenever you ran into the little guy at one of tsukki’s games or vice versa, the two of you were all over each other.

but apparently, this was the exception.

while hinata seemed fine with invading your personal space, you didn’t seem to be enjoying it nearly as much.

and of course, tsukishima just so happened to pick up on that.

he left you alone during the game, but unfortunately for him, his worry for you made him play at his worst.

it felt like an eternity for him, but finally the two of you were heading home.

he waited until you were inside and in your room before he started questioning you.

honestly, at this point, he already had an idea of what had happened, but he didn’t want to believe it.

knowing this, it didn’t take long for you to spill the beans.

you didn’t cry or anything,

you just sat there, and waited patiently for him to yell at you.

the only problem was that he never did.

in fact, he didn’t say a word to you.

not until you asked him if he was mad at you, that is.

that’s when he opened his mouth and called you an idiot for the nth time since the two of you met.

it shocked you, but at the same time, a part of you knew that was the only way he would respond.

he didn’t say another word as he got up and ran you a bath, practically shoving you inside once it was full.

he left you to yourself, but you knew he was close by.

once you were done and feeling slightly better, he cooked you a meal.

the two of you ate in silence before he dragged you upstairs and pushed you lightly into your bed.

and, before you fell asleep that night, he gave you one of his dinosaur plushies and tucked you in tight.

that night, he slept on the floor beside you, well aware you probably wanted your personal space.

he had to wait a bit, but eventually he was able to show you just how much he truly cared for you.

[aomine-ryo]

A scenario please for my sunshine kiseee ahhhh ❤️❤️ um, basically, kaijo lost in such a close game; and kise cries because he gave it his all, but it just wasn't their time. And reader is in the bleachers/stands, and when she sees kise cry, she cries with him--then she rushes to hug him and comfort him. Angst, comfort, and fluff please!!! 😭❤️ Thank youu ☺️

Ah the pain 😔 I hope you like this one!! xx

Scenario: comforting Kise who just lost a game

Kise had been working hard— it goes without question. Literally anyone could tell you that he was determined to win the semifinals against Rakuzan. Almost all his free time would be spent practicing in the gym— and most of the time he never even had anyone to practice with. He just felt like he needed to be working his absolute hardest if he was going to go up against one of the top schools in the country, much less the captain of his former team.

You were very much aware about how much this game meant to him so you tried to support him as much as you could. You took the time to make him some snacks for training as well as kept him company whenever he was practicing alone. Every now and then he’d make you practice with him and while you’d usually refuse, you were much more tolerant about it now.

At last, it was game day. You made sure that you kept that day free of any plans because you intended on being there for your boyfriend the entire time. You were seated in the stands amidst a sizeable crowd after wishing Kise good luck. You could feel the anticipation in the air— the whole arena knew that this match was going to be a nail-biter and for some reason your stomach was turning. You weren’t the one playing— why were you this nervous?

Just as the teams were walking onto the court to warm up, Momoi and Aomine spotted you and decided to keep you company during the game. It didn’t really make too much of a difference to you whether you were alone or not though. Your sole focus was Kise. However, maybe a few explanations here and there from Aomine or Momoi may be helpful.

Somehow, in the crowd of a good hundred people or so, Kise managed to spot you in the front row. With a massive smile on his face, he waved, making you feel a little more at ease as you waved back excitedly as if you were one of his fangirls. Little did you know that Kise was going to puke from nerves. As soon as he walked on court, his eyes scanned the stands in search of you, the only one who he knew could bring him comfort. And of course, there you were, front and center, supporting him with all you had.

“Tch, that idiot is really that confident about this game that he’s taking the time to wave to you huh?” Aomine scoffed.

“One wave isn’t going to be the downfall of his abilities Dai-chan— I think it’s sweet,” Momoi snapped back at him for you.

You tried to chat with the two of them as you waited for the game to start, though your mind was filled with other thoughts.

Finally, it was time for the match to begin. The two teams lined up at the center of the court, each of them looking as strong as ever. At that point you already felt like you were about to explode— you were in for a long 40 minutes.

Straight off the bat, Kaijo managed to get a shot in, seemingly as a way to intimidate their opponents. And of course, it had to be Kise doing it, sending you and the rest of the crowd into a fit of cheers. Almost instantly though, Rakuzan returned the favour with a basket of their own— this wasn’t going to be an easy match.

The game went on, with momentum constantly switching between the two teams to the point where by the last quarter, it could still be anyone’s game. Kise was exhausted though. He’d been working his ass for for three quarters straight because he was determined not to lose, but the fatigue was finally beginning to hit him. He did his best to brush it off and endure it for just ten more minutes. If he could get through just this one quarter, that would be it. Victory was right in front of him and he was going to grab it for his team. Or so he thought.

It wasn’t an easy fight. With a few seconds remaining, Rakuzan managed to grab a one point lead. The entire arena seemed to come to the conclusion that Rakuzan had won this one. But Kise wasn’t ready to accept that. No, there’s two seconds left. If he could just make it to the halfway line—

The whistle blew.

For a moment everything went quiet around Kise as he stood there in shock; lungs feeling as though they were weighing him down. Eventually the crowd erupted in cheers but they were all drowned out by Kise’s thoughts. He gave it his all. He trained and trained and trained but it still wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t give Kaijo the victory they deserved. He still couldn’t prove that he was the strongest— there was always going to be someone above him and right now, that thought was suffocating.

A pat on the back from Moriyama snapped him back into reality. “Come on, let’s line up,” he said softly. Kise could hear the disappointment in his tone. And upon further observation, his whole team had their heads down in regret, causing Kise’s eyes to fill up with tears. This was the end of the Winter Cup for Kaijo.

After thanking his opponents, Kise did his best to wipe away his tears, but it was no use. The tears just kept falling and falling as his mind filled with regret. If he had just worked harder, if he spent just a little more time practicing, if he got just one more point... maybe the outcome would be different.

Meanwhile, you remained at the edge of your seat with one hand clasped over your mouth in disbelief while the other one gripped Momoi’s hand so tight that it might just break. Each match has a winner and a loser— you were painfully aware of that. But still, you weren’t expecting either team to lose, though this was the worst possible outcome.

Looking down at the court, you could see your boyfriend seated on the bench with a hopeless look on his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. It hurt seeing him like that. It hurt seeing someone who was usually so bubbly and full of life look utterly defeated.

Tears filled your eyes as you finally let go of Momoi and rushed out of the stands to meet him in the hallways. The place was a maze of crowded and buzzing corridors but you ran all over the place in search of Kise. You didn’t know if anything you had to say would comfort him, but you couldn’t stand to see him look so despaired.

Finally, you spotted his team heading your direction. Kise didn’t even notice you. His eyes were fixated on the ground. He was still crying. You immediately ran over to him and wrapped your arms around his body as tightly as you possibly could, taking him by surprise for a moment though your hug was quickly returned.

In any other situation, the team would’ve told you and Kise to walk along with them, but this time they just left you two alone after telling Kise to meet up with them outside. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a better game to watch, Y/N-cchi,” Kise sobbed, hugging you as if his life depended on it.

“Don’t apologise, idiot. You did your best,” you said, trying to be the stronger one here though you were crying yourself.

“But my best wasn’t good enough,” he said, voice breaking and causing your heart to ache for him. You couldn’t even imagine how awful he must feel.

You pulled away from the hug so that you could look him in the eyes. Sniffling, you wiped his tears away with the end of your sleeve. “Listen, you played so, so well out there. I bet he won’t admit it, but even Aomine said that you improved a lot and that he wanted to play a one-on-one with you again— act surprised if he texts you about it by the way,” you joked, making him let out a small chuckle, which made you glad. “Even Aomine freakin’ Daiki said you played well, and that man doesn’t give out compliments for the life of him. Trust me, you were absolutely amazing— everyone thinks so. And I know you’ll absolutely crush it next time,” you said, cupping his face in your hands.

Kise felt his heart melt at the sound of your words. He was really so incredibly lucky to have you. How’d you even manage to make him smile after a loss like that? “I love you, Y/N,” he sniffled.

“I love you too, Ryouta,” you smiled at him before getting on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “Now come on, the team is probably waiting for you. Why don’t we go out for dinner together? My treat. We can go to that restaurant you like.”

“That sounds nice. You don’t have to treat me like a baby though,” Kise said. It was his turn to wipe the tears off of your face before the two of you began to walk hand in hand.

“Why not? You’re cute enough to pass off as one,” you smiled.

“Look who’s talking,” Kise retorted. Just like that, Kise was smiling again. He was still frustrated about the whole thing but for now, he had you by his side, and that’s all that mattered.