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#since he encountered the abyss
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I apologize if I'm clogging up ur inbox, but the brain did another screech and I am curious. Would the Creator have a "favorite" in terms of who they'd rather come across?
After the first few couple rounds of deaths, I imagine they'd go for the folks who they learn will give them a quick and (relatively) painless end. Like "Well, shit. It's Inazuma again...maybe I can find Itto or Thoma? At least if off me, they'll do it fast, unlike Kujou Sara, that [beep]ing Crow 🐩"
Then as they slip into their Death Seeking mentality, they start looking for the ones who enjoy fighting and will instigate shit. "Oh looky here, it's Childe! Time to start some chaos! 😈"
Also, random thought I offer up: the idea of the Death Seeking Creator, but someone (let's say Albedo) decides to capture them and try to study them, as to learn how they came to possess the Creators face/learn why they keep coming back. Yay or nay?
Hmm, tbh I would say they only have a "favorite" before they started to get mentally broken. Which is basically them trying to talk to those who are seen as the most peaceful and easier to negotiate with characters. Though that doesn't really work since even the laws of the world are against them (we can thank the Primordial One for that ya bitch-).
Once they do start breaking down, they don't necessarily care who ends up finding them? Sure they'll still kick and fight for maybe even a chance at being left alone. But once they're totally broken and completely believe their purpose is to be the prey of everyone, then they seek those who would be believed to give more "entertaining" deaths like you've said. Though entertaining wouldn't equate to just looking for a fight.
One character they would probably go out of their way to find would be Dottore, his experimentations would lead to all sorts of different ways to die. Though the creator only does it rarely since the time it takes for them to die tends to be long (since the doctor would want to note down what's happening and wouldn't give them to give up immediately) even with the pain they feel urging them to die faster.
And as for the whole coming back bit, that's actually not known of until the truth of the creator's title is revealed. What everyone assumes, even when the creator is broken, is that the imposters are just those who were either born unfortunately (only certain characters think this) or who've massacred their image in order to look like the creator as either some religious fanatic or because they seek power or they simply wish to defile the creator's face abd reputation. And when our creator is broken the main concensus is that these imposters have grown mad, believing they're living multiple lives and talking nonsense about death.
It's only when Nahida, who would be one of the first to discover the truth, immediately holds a meeting with the archons to ensure an effort of capturing (they hated using that word but there was no other way than to refer to the creator as some wild beast with the mental state they're in) the creator and rehabilitating them.
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willowedspirits · 4 days
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Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!
If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!
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I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.
My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.
I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!
Rambling about character details below!
Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.
Time
Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.
He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.
He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.
His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.
He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.
His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.
I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.
Twilight
Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.
He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.
Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.
He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.
The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.
Warriors
He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.
His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.
Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.
This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.
I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.
Four
(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)
Lives in Green Path.
He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).
But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.
When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.
He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.
Wind
Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.
This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.
He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.
I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.
Wild
He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.
He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.
His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.
He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.
His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.
He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.
Legend
Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.
He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.
Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.
His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.
My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.
Hyrule
(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)
Lives in the Ancient Basin.
Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.
He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.
I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.
Sky
Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.
Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.
He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.
He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.
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And that's what I've got!
I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.
I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.
I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.
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sunderwight · 6 months
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Bingqiu roleswap where disciple Shen Yuan knows he's gay, and figures out that he has a big huge crush on his handsome Shizun, but also concludes nearly at once that he's not going to be drawing Luo Binghe's eye any time soon. Firstly, Luo Binghe is notoriously straight. Secondly, even if he weren't, he wouldn't go for his scrawny untalented nerd of a disciple! Shen Yuan's not bad looking, not before or after transmigrating, but he's neither a beautiful nor a hot manly man, and he assumes if Luo Binghe were into dudes he'd be into the same kinds of twunks that Shen Yuan likes. Guys on his own level, etc etc.
Plus Luo Binghe hated the original disciple Shen, and only started to warm up to the transmigrated version after Shen Yuan got injured in front of him trying to stop the other disciples on the peak from killing a small animal. For some reason, Luo Binghe brought Shen Yuan medicine. He got even nicer after Shen Yuan distracted the skinner demon by trying to convince it to take his skin instead of Luo Binghe's, and then again when Shen Yuan successfully fought off a demon invader -- though initially when Luo Binghe volunteered him for that job, he thought it was an assassination attempt. His heart was in his throat when Luo Binghe nearly took a poisoned blow for him, but luckily he reacted more quickly and got hit by the thorns instead. His heavenly demon blood took care of the poison, and he managed to convince everyone that he narrowly avoided getting cut at all.
Shen Yuan's careful not to read anything into it when Luo Binghe finds out about his, erm, uncomfortable dormitory situation and moves him into the side room, or when he completely messes up trying to make dinner and Luo Binghe takes over cooking and bans him from the kitchen (he swears he's not actually that bad at cooking, he just never had to use a kitchen without a microwave or an electric hot plate before...)
After all, it's not like Luo Binghe is cooking for him, he's just making food he likes and letting Shen Yuan eat it too! Because he's nice! He's way nicer than the book gave him credit for being, see, clearly Shen Yuan was correct in signing up for his defense squad, "top ten worst villains of all time" his ass that poll was nonsense...
Unfortunately, though, the plot's still gotta plot. Shen Yuan is heartbroken when the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around and his shizun stabs him and throws him down into the Endless Abyss. Heartbroken, but not surprised. After all, it was always going to go this way, wasn't it?
But at least, now that it's done, he has some agency in how he reacts to it. He's changed the story enough that he doesn't need to go get revenge. Maybe Luo Binghe's still the villain of his story, maybe that was inevitable, but some heroes let the villains get away. Don't they? It's all part of that noble, breaking the cycle of abuse type stuff. He can be that kind of hero. He can let it go. As long as he avoids Luo Binghe altogether, it should be fine, right? It's not like he's obligated to turn people into human sticks. He asked the system, he's definitely not!
Technically he's not even required to conquer the demon realms. He just has to get out of the Abyss and the be sufficiently cool and/or tragic. Conquest is just one means of doing that, and not even Shen Yuan's preferred, since he doesn't exactly want to rule over anybody. Going around the demon realms beating up some jackasses and rescuing some damsels in distress and becoming sworn brothers with Shang Qinghua, one of the current demon kings, is suitable. He definitely doesn't want to marry any of the damsels he encounters (thank fuck the system lets him off the hook for that!)
But eventually he has to go back to the human world. Not only is it mandated by the system, but he also misses living there. The demonic realms are in many ways better than expected, plus a lot of the monsters are really cool, but he misses the weather and plants and the people he's more accustomed to being around.
He misses Qing Jing Peak, if he's being honest with himself. Shizun's cooking and the bamboo forest and the crisp mountain breezes, the comforts of home.
Not that he can actually go back there in specific. Of course not. If he did that, Luo Binghe would try to kill him, or else the system would try and make him kill Luo Binghe. Bad ideas all around. No, he can't go back to Qing Jing Peak, but he can go find someplace nicer than the demon realms at least. He just has to keep a low profile, which shouldn't be hard since the original goods did that even while actively scheming to kill his former master!
Except.
Everywhere he goes, suddenly Luo Binghe is also there?!
Good thing Shen Yuan thought to take a page out of the book of Luo Binghe's actual love interest, Liu Mingyan, and start wearing a veil. He just didn't want any randos who might have seen him at the Immortal Alliance Conference or on any of the other missions his shizun sent him on to recognize him. But one minute he's investigating a strange case in Jinlan City, and the next the streets are full of Huan Hua cultivators (Shen Yuan has no intention of joining them, that's the path the original took to getting revenge! He doesn't want revenge!), and then Luo Binghe and Sect Leader MBJ and Peak Lord SHL show up, and SY is ducking down alleys and hiding behind columns, just trying to stay out of the way until the lockdown on Jinlan lifts and he can leave.
Except...
Luo Binghe really isn't acting like himself?
He looks like he hasn't been eating or sleeping well. There are dark circles around his eyes, and something almost melancholy in his countenance. And he's dressed entirely in white, none of the usual Qing Jing greens and blues anywhere to be seen. Of even greater concern, he's being reckless. Shen Yuan can't stop himself from rushing out when he sees his former shizun get infected by a sower demon.
Luckily, it's been some years since the last time they saw one another. Shen Yuan's gained a few inches in height, so he's almost at eye-level with his old master now, and though he's still more slender than bulky he's picked up some totally new styles from training the demon realms. He doesn't move the same way he used to. With that, plus the veil, it's enough for him to quickly swallow back his words as he grabs Luo Binghe and quickly administers a cure for the sower infection.
Well, he has one of course. He wouldn't need it himself, heavenly demon blood and all, but his time running around playing hero in the demon realms meant he rescued a lot of humans from such fates. Which is hard to do if you don't have a cure to their afflictions, but between him and Shang Qinghua, sourcing such things was almost easy.
Luo Binghe looks at him like he's just seen a ghost. The other Cang Qiong sect members are alarmed by SY suddenly accosting one of their own and of course find him suspicious, so he runs away right after, and then he has to lose Sha Hualing's pursuit in the city.
But what else could he do? He manages to evade the system's attempts to railroad him into meeting Gongyi Xiao, avoids the rest of the Cang Qiong crowd, and drops some of the cure through the current Qian Cao peak lord's window to get the incident sorted out. Then he flees and puts a good amount of distance between himself, Jinlan City, and every righteous sect he can think of.
The only problem is that after this point, Luo Binghe is everywhere.
Any time Shen Yuan stays in one place for longer than a few days, Qing Jing disciples start turning up. Any time he takes a job hunting some cool-sounding monster or pursuing some interesting tome of knowledge, the better to satisfy the system, it seems like Luo Binghe has selected and gone after the exact same target! Which is especially annoying because back when SY was a disciple, Luo Binghe was always assigning him to do this stuff. Since when does his chronic homebody master have an interesting in six-tailed scorpion lemurs or ancient spiritual kilns?
What's weirder, though, are the rumors.
It seems like any time SY stops at some well-populated place and asks for the latest gossip, he has to hear about how the Qing Jing peak lord lost his beloved disciple during the Immortal Alliance Conference, and mourned like a widow, and now wanders the earth in search of solace for his grief. Seeking something, possibly even the ghost of his dear disciple.
What nonsense! Luo Binghe threw SY into the Abyss himself. He had to do it, it was the plot! And also his obligation as a righteous cultivator, confronted with a "dangerous" half-demon. Does it sting? Yes it stings! That's why SY wouldn't just forget it! Despite logically knowing it's pointless, is there some part of him that wishes his master would have chosen differently? That thinks he should have known that no matter what kind of power Shen Yuan had, he would never use it to hurt people recklessly, or harm innocents, or especially not harm... well. It's pointless, his blood condemned him, and if there is some part of Luo Binghe which regrets what happened, it's doubtless just that he unwittingly harbored a monster for so long.
Which is fine and Shen Yuan would leave it at that, if the guy would just let him!
But no. Instead he has to deal with Luo Binghe turning up and asking him questions, trying to get him to talk (SY has no hope of disguising his voice, if he says anything he's not even sure it won't crack as he comes perilously close to tears instead, so he just stays silent), and then asking for his name, asking if he's mute, asking about his background, his sect, his kin. Is his a righteous cultivator? Where did he get that sword? (NOT Xin Mo, thanks, he used that thing once and then tossed it back into the Abyss before the portal finished closing behind him -- he knows a poisoned chalice when he sees one, although knowing the plot twist about that sword from the novel sure helped.) Where did he learn those forms? Is he... does he have a safe place to go home to? Someone to tend his injuries? Make sure he eats his meals?
SY, of course, stays silent. But it's difficult. Not only because Luo Binghe asks, but because he still looks... bad. Sunken, sorrowful, desperate almost. Shen Yuan can't figure out if he knows or not. Maybe he's unsure, maybe he's looking for SY to give him a sign, so that he can figure him out and then flip a switch and try to finish the job he started.
That can't happen. If they fight, SY will win, and he doesn't want to hurt Luo Binghe.
But even if Luo Binghe's not a heavenly demon, he is a highly accomplished cultivator, and it seems he's got his own breaking points to reach. Eventually he corners SY and gets a hand on his veil, and for a moment SY is sure he's going to rip it off, see his face, and confront him all "I knew it was you, you twisted evil demon, you won't escape justice a second time" and he feels a deep, icy terror close around his lungs--
Luo Binghe lets go of the veil before he can lift it.
But then something even worse happens. Because Shen Yuan's handsome, peerless, noble master breaks down. He falls to his knees, begging forgiveness, sobbing, clutching at his head like he's being driven to madness.
It all spills out of him, then. How he pushed his own dearest disciple into the Abyss, which obviously SY already knew, but also how he was apparently qi-deviating the whole time, and his senses could not differentiate between one kind of demonic "threat" and another. How he realized what he'd done only after he regained his senses hours later, and rushed back to the place where the tear to the Abyss had opened, but could not find a way in after the one he lost. How he had betrayed and thrown away the only person who cared about him, and couldn't even explain that he hadn't intended to. How he would accept anything, any punishment, hatred, penance, or revenge, if only he could see his disciple's face once more.
SY is stunned.
Apparently, Luo Binghe hadn't rejected him for his demon blood?
Not only that, but beforehand, he seemed to have valued Shen Yuan a lot more than Shen Yuan would have credited.
Is it a trick? Is he lying? SY would have guessed so, would have assumed that Luo Binghe's plan was to lull him into complacency only to turn on him once he finally had confirmation. But somehow, he just... doesn't think this is an insincere display. His old master is too cool for this stuff! He has too much dignity to just throw it away on a scheme! There are other ways to get what he wants.
Even if it is a lie, Shen Yuan is tired of running. He's the hero. He won't actually lose, and if it comes to it, it's still in his hands to decide if he wants to spare Luo Binghe or not (he does, of course he does, even if this whole spiel is an act). Plus he's got a backup plant body in one of Shang Qinghua's greenhouses if all goes to shit.
He takes the veil off himself.
Luo Binghe, teary-eyed, stares at him as if his face is the most beautiful he's ever seen.
Shen Yuan nearly puts the veil back on. His cheeks heat up. Dear Shizun, aren't you an immortal master? A noble peak lord? Isn't it your calling to vanquish demons? Get up off the dirty ground right this minute! Where did your dignity go? Shen Yuan did not spend all those nights doing the laundry to watch his teacher dirty his knees for no good reason!
There's a quaver in Luo Binghe's voice as he points out that Shen Yuan was terrible at doing laundry. Luo Binghe had to redo it the day after, all the time.
Shen Yuan chides at him that he should have made one of the other disciples do it then.
Luo Binghe just laughs, and stays on the ground, until finally Shen Yuan has to physically pull him up. Muttering about how he's being ridiculous, what's he crying for, why's he been moping so much, doesn't he know that handsome face should never look so bereft? Then he realizes what he's saying and shuts his mouth, but Luo Binghe just looks happy for the first time in years. Since the Abyss. How is it possible that SY, who actually had to slog through that awful place, can still smile more than Luo Binghe, who didn't?
They're standing so close. Holding on to one another. Almost as if... as if the scene's tone is... well...
Oh what the hell!
Shen Yuan closes the last little bit of distance between them, and kisses Luo Binghe.
#svsss#scum villain's self saving system#bingqiu#long post#of course the plot probably interferes further then#turns out that while luo binghe was desperately trying to get sy back he accidentally woke up sy's father#who for this au let's say is sj instead of tlj#sj does NOT approve of this match and also hates all the righteous cultivators (and demons... and everyone mostly...)#but he is also busy trying to resurrect yqy or something#kidnaps sy like well I missed the chance to raise you and actually that's probably for the best but now I need your blood#for Reasons#luo binghe is not a fan of this turn of events#reverse holy mausoleum arc when SY is mostly unconscious except to sometimes throw out advice and LBH is dodging traps and villains#the pining-over-the-dead-shizun arc is probably AFTER the holy mausoleum and lbh self-destructs to rescue sy from sj's plans#sy refuses to accept this outcome he decided luo binghe was NOT to die he didn't need a redemption arc he was FINE sy DECIDED#but luckily they're in the holy mausoleum so sy grabs a resurrection artifact of some kind#has to spend a few years restoring and maintaining lbh's corpse before he can get the to actually work but it's fine#he's fine everything's fine he's GOING to get lbh back lbh is NOT ALLOWED TO DIE#luckily unhinged sy results in way less collateral damage than unhinged lbh#so mostly he just fights off mbj's attempts to honorably recover his shidi's body and offer him a proper burial#while camping out in the holy mausoleum and arguing with sj's detached body parts#y'know normal healthy behavior
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lomlompurim · 6 months
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What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.
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Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.
What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.
(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)
So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.
The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.
His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!
And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.
The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.
Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.
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Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.
The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...
Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.
"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.
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"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"
"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"
-TBC-
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urvape1kz · 2 months
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CRAVING HIS TOUCH Gojo Satoru
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Pairing Gojo Satoru x Reader!
Summary: After divorcing Gojo Satoru following years together and raising two children, you find yourself facing lonely nights. Encouraged to start dating again, you meet the seemingly perfect Kento Nanami. However, every moment with him only intensifies your longing for Satoru, who coincidentally also misses you.
Warnings: Authors first smut, MNDI, cheating, possessive behavior, toxic relationship/behaviors, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, choking, breeding kink
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Dating, a degrading practice in the shoes of an underpaid not to mention divorced mother of two. A year ago you found yourself divorcing the man of your dreams, rich play boy Satoru Gojo. Satoru knew your heart inside out as if it were a map to paradise. He showered you with gifts from Dior and dates straight out of fairy tales on the top of the eiffel tower. Leaving him wasn’t fun; let alone easy. But his family's constant backhanded and abusive comments, along with their comparisons to his ex-girlfriends, made life with him unbearable. Despite your pleas for him to cut them off, he dismissed you with a casual "you know how my parents are” and never touched the subject again. 
At some point it all just became too much and you inevitably left. Since then, your friends have been relentless, practically pleading with you to to look into dating apps or let them play matchmaker. So, after slogging through eight apps and enduring at least a million disappointing encounters, just when you were about to lose hope, you stumbled upon Kento Nanami.
He wasn't as handsome as Satoru, that was for sure, but he was no ordinary catch. Kento was a world-renowned chef with undeniable charm, easily winning you over. he other day, he asked you out to the movies, and you couldn't resist saying yes. 
You spent hours preparing for your date, every detail was meticulously planned from your dress to your makeup. Everything was going perfectly, just as you had imagined, until you felt a slight buzz from your back pocket—it was your babysitter. 
"I'm really sorry, Ms. (L/N)," came her shaky voice on the other end. "My mom had an accident, and I don't think I can sit for you tonight." She sounded on the verge of tears. 
You let out a heavy sigh, understanding that it wasn't her fault. "It's okay, kid," you reassured her gently. "Take care of your mom. I'll keep her in my prayers."
A heartfelt "thank you" echoed through the phone before she hung up. As panic started to rise, you wracked your brain for options. Then it hit you— Satoru was still available wasn’t he?
Your finger hovered over his contact, once decorated with a bunch of heart emojis. You paced back and forth in your room, questioning whether reaching out to your ex so suddenly was morally okay. 
Who calls their ex out of the blue like this? you wondered. But it's fine.. you reassured yourself. We're co-parents; this is completely normal I mean I would have done the same for him. 
No you wouldn’t.
Despite your horrible attempts to muster courage, you couldn't bring yourself to call him. So, you opted for a text instead. 
"Satoru, I know this is short notice, but could you watch the kids tonight? I have plans."
Almost instantly, he replied—unsurprisingly, for him.
Of course. You don’t even have to ask their papa’s been missing them a whole bunch anyways :)  
His words tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you of the strained relationship you caused between him and his children. Taking a deep breath you shoved those thoughts away into an abyss because tonight was about you. 
--
Going to Satoru's house felt like stepping back in time—a mix of nostalgia and trepidation. Everything looked the same as you left it; the flowers you'd planted were still there, blooming as beautifully as ever not to mention the welcome mat you purchased over four years ago when you two first moved in together. 
Before you could muster the courage to knock on his door, your four-year-old twins Kyoko and Yugo darted ahead, banging eagerly on his huge sturdy wooden door.
"Daddy, we're here! We're here!" they shouted, their voices echoing in the quiet.
Almost instantly, the door swung open, and they melted into his arms like ice cream. Standing up his gaze locked onto you with a deliberate intensity that felt almost robotic. His eyes traced over your short red dress, lingered on your bold red lipstick, and took in your meticulously styled hair. The air between you was thick with unspoken words and memories.
"You look... amazing," he finally said, his voice betraying a hint of awe that clashed with the tension in the room.
Before you could respond, your son Yugo's innocent voice broke the silence. "Mama's got a date, Papa!" he giggled, oblivious to the weight of his words.
A sudden chill swept over you, and you felt the atmosphere grow heavy as the four of you stood there, caught in an awkward tableau. Satoru's face tightened, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and resignation. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.
The tension was finally broken by your kids' eager pleas to play video games inside. Satoru hesitated, his hand lingering on the door as if he wanted to say something—anything—but couldn't find the words. Then, with a sigh he slammed the door in front of your face, the door that you two once struggled to open entangled in passionate kisses that you could still feel on the tip of your lips.
Gathering your strength, you made your way to your car, feeling on the brink of tears. Just when it seemed like the weight of the world might crush you, a text from Nanami lit up your phone.
"Just bought the tickets. Missing youu 💋"
Despite the stress you were feeling, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. You put the car in gear and headed to meet him at the movies. As you pulled up, you spotted Nanami waiting outside, a beautiful bouquet of white roses cradled in his arms. His face lit up as he saw you, almost tripping over his feet to greet you.
"You make me feel underdressed," he smiled, planting a kiss on your cheek.
"Oh, please. You do that to me every day with your fancy suits and ties," you teased back, taking his hand in yours as you walked inside.
"So, what movie did you pick? You never really told me," you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you walked inside.
"'Amants Interdits.' It's a French film. When I heard about it, I just knew you'd love it," he replied, excitedly swinging your hands back and forth.
While his intentions were undoubtedly good, the movie turned out to be a melodramatic mess that tugged at every lingering heartstring in your soul, reminding you uncomfortably of Satoru. As the credits rolled, you felt Nanami's hand gently cup your face, his eyes searching yours.
"Did I pick a bad movie?" he whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.
"Mm... no, it was amazing," you whispered against his lips, trying to muster a smile. "Just... sad. I'm not really into dramas," you added with a forced laugh. As you leaned in to kiss him again, he pulled back slightly.
"You look beyond beautiful tonight, but there's something in your eyes... a sadness," he observed, his tone soft yet tied with concern. "You stepped out of the theater more than once, and I can't shake the feeling that it wasn't just the movie weighing on you. Why don't you head home and rest? Tomorrow's another day for us to enjoy each other's company right?” he smiled pressing his forehead against mine. 
“Nanami I don’t deserve you do I?” you muttered as the two of you walked out the theater cradled in each others arms. As he kissed you goodbye you opened your purse to find 2 hour old messages from Satoru.
Bought the kids take out hope you don’t mind
I don’t know if you want them to stay over but they’re asleep
As you drove, your mind raced with questions about how to handle picking up the kids. Should you say something? Should you ask for his help getting them to the car? No, that wouldn't be right. Lost in thought, you found yourself in front of his house sooner than expected. Taking a deep breath, you approached the front door and lightly tapped on it with your knuckles.
"Satoru, it's me," you whispered. Almost instantly, the door swung open, and your eyes met. There he stood, looking disheveled. His hair looked as if it had been untouched for days, and his eyes were reddened, as if he'd been crying for hours.
"You look la mess" you murmured, to which he scoffed, "You're one to talk," his eyes darting to the red smeared lipstick on your face. "How were your 'plans'?" he asked, his tone a mix of sarcasm and barely concealed anger. His breath carried the unmistakable scent of alcohol, worrying you with the kids in the house.
"Satoru, you've been drinking again, haven't you?" you yelled. "Where are Yugo and Kyo?" you demanded, pushing past him. 
"They're fine, (Y/N)! They're my kids! Do you really think I'd hurt them?" he shouted, his voice escalating. "You’re probably too busy to think about that when your mind is on other men though right?!" he accused, closing the distance between the two of you.
"Satoru—"  you began, but before you could finish, he had pressed your body against the wall, his hot breath mingling with that of your own.
Slithering his coarse hands between your thighs he felt the absence of your panties. 
“You never dressed like this for me, was I just not good enough for you?” He whined as his fingers found their way to your core, teasing your clit."I've already cut off everyone—my mother, my sister, everyone. I'd cut off the whole world to have you back with me," he groaned into your ear. “Satoru.. You aren’t in your right s-state of mind right now..” you muttered stumbling over your words “the kids are here..”
"The kids want us to be together, can't you see? Kyoko told me how much you miss me. She said that when you're alone in your room, you whisper my name, pleading and begging for me, are you that desperate and needy to be filled? Does he just not do it for you?” You opened your mouth but before you could answer his his fingers slammed in your pussy making your body jerk with a cry.
"(Y/N)..." he whispered, biting down on the rim of your ear. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave. I'll let you go forever, just as you want me to," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.
His touch was like a key turning in a lock, unlocking a flood of memories that surged through your mind. Each sensation seemed to echo with the past—every whispered word, every shared laugh, and every tender moment you had once cherished together. The feelings you'd buried deep inside started to resurface, tugging at your heartstrings and making your pulse quicken. It was as if time had rewound, pulling you back into the whirlwind of emotions you once knew so well.
Your silence was enough of an answer for him as he kissed up your neck. Allowing you to lean back onto him with your head on his chest. Soft moans falling past your lips as you let yourself grind on his fingers. Another loud cry filling the air when he landed it hard on your ass instead.
Carrying you to his couch he plowed you on the red leather sofa the two of you bought after you gave birth you the texture brought you back so many memories but between that and satoru touching you your midn went blank 
"Look at yourself." He commanded sternly, forcing your head upward until you gazed at your reflection in the foggy window. Your eyes widening in embarrassment as you realized the state you were in. "Gonna give you another set of twins, triplets even, you want that baby?"
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you quickly nodded, desperation filling your heart. You needed him so badly; you longed for his cock to fill the emptiness inside of you. 
"Ahh, fuck." Another sharp slap echoed through the room, stinging your already tender ass. "So you do talk" He smirked, eager to hear the words he desired. "Please fuck me."
He chuckled, enjoying your pathetic submission. "You can do better than that, baby." His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. "Please. Please fuck me Toru. I've been so alone, aching for you. W-want you to fill me up." You pleaded, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
"That's it. That's my slutty girl." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he thrust into you, claiming your wet entrance with a single powerful stroke. Your knees buckled beneath you, and your back arched involuntarily as his thick cock stretched you wide. You could feel the swollen tissue near your cervix protesting against the relentless invasion.
A low growl escaped your throat as his hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to him on the sofa. Your hands instinctively pressed against your back, feeling the rough fabric beneath your fingertips. Your heart pounded wildly, your body responding to his dominance.
Just as you were about to reach your climax, the room was suddenly interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone. Satoru's eyes narrowed, his grip on your neck tightening momentarily. He snatched the device from off the floor, his gaze fixed on the glowing screen. Jealousy flared in his eyes as he recognized the caller ID: “Nanami <3”
"Toru, please, just put it away," you begged, tears starting to form. But before you could say anything more, he answered  tossing the phone on-top of you, his smile smug, as if he'd just won the lottery.
"H-hello, Nanami," you stammered, trying to catch your breath as Satoru sped up. "Sweetheart, you sound terrible. Are you sick?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. You felt a lump in your throat, torn between guilt and pleasure. Ripping the bandaid off you blurted out "Nanami, we can't see each other anymore!" before abruptly hanging up. 
Once again, you were caught in Satoru's snare, the familiar sting of knowing you were heading for heartbreak not enough to make you turn back. Despite the pain you knew was coming, something inside you couldn't let go, couldn't stop yourself from falling into the same old pattern, even if it meant ignoring the chance for something real with Nanami.
"Good girl..." he hummed, his voice thick with lust as he slammed into you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. "You know I just want the best for you, for us, for our kids," he blurted out in the heat of the moment. His words were laced with sincerity and madness, blurring the lines between love and manipulation.
Your heart raced, unsure whether you should trust him or run as far away as possible. But the intensity of his touch, the way he claimed your body, made it hard to resist his charms. You moaned softly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.
Good girl..." he hummed, his voice thick with lust as he slammed into you. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure and pain throughout your body, leaving you breathless and vulnerable. "You know I just want the best for you, for us, for our kids," he blurted out in the heat of the moment. His words were laced with sincerity and madness, blurring the lines between love and manipulation.
Your moans filled the room, a testament to your surrender. As you both reached your climax sloppily kissed you “Get pregnant.. m’gonna have you all to myself” he blurted throughout kisses as his eyes gleamed with anticipation envisioning your soon to be large belly.
You let out a loud defeated whimper, feeling the warm residue trickle from inside of you as he pulled out. Your senses swam in a haze as your eyelids fluttered shut, and you went limp in his arms, surrendering to the overwhelming emotions and fatigue. He cradled you gently, his gaze fixed on your face as you drifted in and out of consciousness. 
---
Waking up to the familiar scent of pancakes, memories of lazy breakfasts from your honeymoon in the states flooded back. Blinking your eyes open, you tried to sit up but quickly realized something was off. The room around you wasn't yours—it was Satoru's. Confused, you scanned the space, spotting your own furniture awkwardly placed among his belongings as if he had moved all your stuff  in.
Slipping out of bed in one of Satoru's oversized shirts, the scent of freshly brewed pancakes grew stronger as you made your way downstairs. As you descended, the sounds of morning chatter became clearer. There, in the kitchen, you found Satoru at the stove, flipping pancakes, with Kyoko in a high chair, happily munching away. Yugo, spotting you, abandoned his toy cars and rushed over, wrapping his little arms around your leg.
"Mommy, mommy!" he cheered, his eyes shining with excitement. "Papa says you're staying together forever, and we're gonna have little  brothers and sisters!"
Your heart skipped a beat as you shot a pointed look at Satoru, who paused mid-flip, giving you an awkward, guilty smile. 
You truly despised him with every fiber of your being, yet there was a burning desire in you that betrayed your feelings. 
“Gojo Satoru what have you done to me..”
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thirteenducks · 7 months
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smoke and wine
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(diluc x fem!reader) [suggestive, but SFW]
༻❁༺ content: fem!reader (reader wears a dress and is referred to as 'her'), some suggestive content, no established relationship
༻❁༺ word count: ~4.7k
༻❁༺ tags: self indulgent stormfic, adelinde best mother figure AND wingwoman, flustered diluc supremacy, reader does not want to cause trouble for diluc, diluc desperately wants reader to cause trouble for him, diluc wears boxer briefs because i said so, rampant use of ellipses
༻❁༺ author's note: i am back to offer you this with my hands outstretched before i vanish into the void for another six months :/ regardless, thank you for reading! <33 this fic was inspired by this lovely art by @mmmairon https://www.tumblr.com/mmmairon/733185437964926976/hi-mairon-i-love-the-self-insert-comfort-you-did?source=share please go check it out!
Diluc is a simple man. If there's something he can provide, he'll go out of his way to do it. And if that means allowing you to stay at his home for the night during a fierce storm, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort.
Before today, you had considered yourself rather proficient in predicting the weather for your forays into the Mondstadt hills. Experience had given you somewhat of a sixth sense for which afternoons would yield sunny skies and which would leave you huddled under a tree during a downpour.
This storm, however, had truly come out of nowhere. 
When your feet finally find the steps of the vineyard path ahead of you, you’re already too drenched to bother running from the rain. Your shoes, unfit for travel through the rain-soaked countryside, leave puddles behind everywhere you step; your dress is so soaked through that it must leave nothing to the imagination. 
You shiver, thanking Barbatos that you seem to be the only unfortunate traveler caught in this downpour. At least the grates of the grapevines above you give you some form of cover from the lashing sheets of rain.
Through the raindrops in your eyes, you gaze at the herbs in your basket, their delicate leaves sodden and dripping. Once the storm has passed, and you've returned home, you doubt they will be much worth keeping. So much for freshly-gathered, you lament.
Distracted by your mournful predictions, you hardly notice the dirt beneath your feet has turned to stone and you’re suddenly before the imposing building that dominates the landscape. Above you, lanterns on posts swing wildly in the wind, illuminating the grand wooden door of Dawn Winery.
As you huddle beneath the scant protection of the balcony above, poised to knock, you’re inevitably reminded of the only other time you’d encountered the owner of this estate. 
In the many months since, you’d learned which places to avoid in the Mondstadt countryside due to high monster traffic. That morning, however, the abyss mage had appeared out of nowhere in the sunny meadow of sweet flowers, leering at you and your lack of a weapon. You had barely gathered the presence of mind to drop what you were holding and run when the noise of boots, fast approaching, came from behind you. In another second, a blur of red and black had sped by and a gloved hand was pushing you down to the ground. Overhead, a blast of ice meant for your heart had split the sky above you instead.
Before you could regain your wits, the horrible sound of what you could only imagine were the monster’s last words tore through the air and flames, red and deep orange, surrounded you. The blue of the sky above you was ringed with fire.
Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you had scrambled to your feet, fear shooting through you like lightning as the flames licked higher and hotter around your boots -
And then they were gone, extinguished in an instant. Your breaths coming fast and shallow, you had inspected yourself for injuries and found nothing amiss but a few singed pieces of hair.
The gloved hand had appeared again in your field of vision, hovering hesitantly near your shoulder. 
“Are you alright? That attack didn’t hit you, did it?”
The voice was low and unfamiliar, and you had followed the sound until your eyes caught a mane of red hair in a sea of black. He smelled like smoke; you could see it emanating off the massive sword he held in his other hand.
“I’m not hurt, thank you. I had no idea this area wasn’t safe...” You murmured, gazing at the now-scorched patch of flowers you had stood so peacefully in a moment before. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, sir.” You offered your hand and name in introduction, and he had taken both with a gentle grace. His questioning eyes alighted on your belongings, dress, and hair before returning to your face.
“Please, call me Diluc. Of Dawn Winery,” he answers, anticipating your question.  “I’m the one who should apologize. This one -” he glances down at the ground in distaste, where a few shining leaves are all that is left of the abyss mage - “got away from me last night, and I’ve been chasing it down ever since. Really, it’s my fault.”
You duck your head in gratitude. “Thank you regardless, Diluc. I’ll make sure to avoid this area in the future...” You trail off sadly. This had been the best hill in the area to collect sweet flowers...
His face had changed a bit at your vow, so quickly you might have imagined it, before his handsome features returned to an unreadable expression. The exchange had not lasted long past that point. 
“Keep yourself safe,” were his brief parting words, leaving you with a nod before starting at a brisk pace toward the building in the distance.
And now that same building is before you once more. Drawing your bag closer to you in trepidation, you knock, the sound barely reaching your ears over the roar of thunder overhead.
You don’t have to wait long in the harsh wind before the giant door swings open and you’re face to face with the same man from all those months ago, staring at you with his mouth slightly parted. You blink at each other for a few moments, unsure of what to say, until a woman’s soft voice calls from behind him in the doorway.
“Master Diluc? Is there someone out there?”
A middle-aged woman with a kind expression peers over Diluc’s shoulder at you and gasps. 
“Master Diluc! What are you doing, keeping her out here in all this rain?” she chides, pushing Diluc’s shoulder to punctuate her sentence, and he blinks as if coming out of a trance. He steps out of the doorway and allows the woman to grab you gently by the hand and lead you into the warm, carpeted foyer. The great door swings shut behind you with a soft thud and you allow yourself an exhale of relief at being out of the storm, if only for a few minutes.
“Goodness, you’re soaked through.” The woman, who wears a maid’s uniform, putters around you, taking your belongings from your grasp and hanging them on a stand next to the door. As she circles you, murmuring with concern, you take the opportunity to explain yourself.
“I’m so sorry to intrude, ma’am, I was just gathering herbs near Stone Gate when the downpour started...” You lock eyes with Diluc, who has not said a word yet. Your resolve wavers, but a drop of water cascading down your back causes you to shiver and you remember your situation. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I impose upon you until the worst of the storm passes?” Your teeth chatter a bit as a draft catches your soaked clothing. “I promise I won’t make too much trouble for -”
You’re cut off by the sensation of something large and warm surrounding you. It smells of smoke and wine and you look up in surprise to see Diluc, now bare to the arm, settling his overcoat on your shoulders. A light shade of pink dusts his cheekbones.
“This storm isn’t likely to pass before tomorrow morning at the earliest,” he rumbles, avoiding your eyes. “Adelinde, please tell Moco and Hillie to prepare a bath and fresh sheets in the downstairs guest room.” 
The warm timbre of his voice is tinged with something you can’t identify. Before you can protest, the woman, who must be Adelinde, gives him a nod. She curtsies to you with a smile and takes her leave.
Now standing alone with Diluc, you hurriedly voice your objections and promise to be on your way after you dry off a bit and perhaps borrow an umbrella. The man in front of you, however, refuses to acquiesce.
“You’ll at least let Adelinde feed you dinner, won’t you? It’s quite late already,” he remarks, glancing out the bay window at the darkened sky. “Have you eaten?”
At your dissenting response, he nods as if all is settled. You stare down at your shoes in mingled embarrassment and relief, watching the pools of water sink into the rich carpet. 
Diluc clears his throat and moves his hand to hover behind the small of your back as he walks towards the fireplace. “Please, wait here for Adelinde to return. I’ll speak to her about getting you some dry clothes to wear for the night,” he says, gesturing to the couch in front of the fire.
You grimace as you sit, the damp fabric of your dress sticking to you and probably ruining the plush velvet of the sofa. Not to mention Diluc’s coat...
Before you can dwell too long on that, Adelinde reappears with a steaming cup of tea that she sets in front of you. She appears to be in conversation with Diluc about something across the table as you sip your tea, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into your bones.
“It’s awful luck that everything had to be taken in from the clotheslines when it started to rain,” she sighs. “There’s not a dry piece of women’s clothing in the house, I’m afraid.”
Diluc hums in contemplation. “I suppose mine will have to do, then. As long as it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, of course...” He trails off as he turns to you, his cheeks pink again.
You laugh a bit, good humor returning to your body as the warmth does. “I’ll take any clothing you have to offer, Adelinde. Truly, thank you.”
She smiles, and before you can say anything else, Diluc has gotten to his feet and is already halfway up the stairs. Your eyes follow him as he goes, afraid you’ve said something wrong, but Adelinde just laughs and gestures for you to stand.
“Don’t mind him. The young master’s always that straightforward. Let’s get you into a warm bath, hm?” She starts for the hallway at a brisk pace, ignoring your concerns about the water you’re tracking across the floor.
As the head maid leads you to the guest room, Diluc stands in his own quarters, staring at his bureau with a look of deliberation that a complex military maneuver might inspire. All around him, various pieces of clothing lay rejected. He’s glaring daggers at his pants drawer, which he now realizes contains only neatly folded black slacks and pairs of underwear.
Do I really only wear slacks and boxer briefs?
That’s a question for another day. For now, he lays out his options.
He can’t... he can’t offer you his underwear to wear. That’s out of the question. Few things could be less appropriate to lend to a guest, let alone a pretty... 
He shakes his head. His face is burning just thinking about it.
But wouldn’t you be uncomfortable in dress pants? They’d hardly fit you, anyways, so you might have to wear a belt as well just to keep them up... And could you really sleep in them? You’d probably end up shedding them, right?
He shakes his head again before he can go any further with that... dangerous thought.
He huffs. This is going nowhere. He’ll have to bring them both to Adelinde and see what she has to say, he thinks as he descends the staircase with a stack of clothes in hand.
Meanwhile, you stand with Adelinde in the most lavish guest bedroom you’ve ever set foot in. The bedspread, softer than a lamb as you run your hand over it, matches the curtains of the four-poster bed it rests on and the wall behind it. She opens the door to the attached bathroom, where a steaming claw-foot tub stands in the center. The aroma coming from it is like that of the lampgrass you had been collecting that afternoon before the storm hit, and it draws you to it like a moth to flame.
Adelinde curtsies to you and asks you to simply leave your wet clothes by the door and she’ll send someone to pick them up and deliver dry clothes in a bit. With that, she shuts the bedroom door behind you and leaves you to disrobe in the sweet-smelling bathroom.
After so long with your soaked garments clinging to you, peeling them off feels incredible. The water is the perfect temperature as you slide into it, feeling the stress of the afternoon melt away from your shoulders. The soaps next to the bath are thick and luxurious, perfuming the air with a thousand faint floral scents.
You don’t know how long you sit there, half-awake and submerged to the nose in the sweet-smelling water, until a knock at the bedroom door brings you back to reality.
Thinking it to be Adelinde or another maid, you straighten up and stretch your arms. You’d rather not get up and let her in yourself, so you merely call out your permission to let herself in. After all, the water’s so nice, and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with but a towel, anyways. 
The door opens quietly and a heavy step can be heard entering the bedroom and shuffling around a bit until it suddenly pauses. 
That’s odd. “Adelinde?” you call, rising a bit in the water to peek into the bedroom through the open door. No answer comes.
Furrowing your brow, you move to get out of the tub when the panicked voice of a man rings through the room.
“Wait! Wait, please... Archons, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you were - the door is - ”
It’s Diluc. He sounds more flustered than you thought was possible of such a stoic man.
“I just came to drop these off,” he continues, voice discomposed, and there’s a sound of something being placed on a chair. “Please forget this happened. I- I apologize a thousand times. I’ll, um, wait outside - please, forgive me... I’m leaving now, I swear.” 
And with that, the bedroom door closes with a thunk. You’re left frozen, your hands on the rim of the tub, your face a fetching shade of scarlet.
Diluc, on the opposite side of the door, is in no better shape. Not only had he walked in on you while you were- not only had he imposed upon you, but he had completely forgotten his objective of having Adelinde choose your clothing. Which meant, of course, that you were about to walk out of the bath and be faced with an odd selection of things to clothe yourself with.
It’s not like he can go back in and tell you it’s a mistake, though. Diluc sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, willing his heart rate to go down. Idiot. He’s an idiot.
Since the least he can do now is protect you from any further embarrassment, he thinks, he takes up a guard position outside your bedroom door.
It helps to know that at least it’s just him and the maids in the house, so you have no one else to worry about. It doesn’t help to know that you’re currently bare and covered in soap a scant twenty feet from him.
He buries his head in his hands again.
Meanwhile, you’ve removed yourself from the tub and are drying off while waiting for your pulse to return to normal. The towel in your hands is probably the fluffiest thing you’ve ever touched, yet it barely registers in your mind at the moment.
You weigh the ethics of telling Adelinde you’ve suddenly fallen violently ill and cannot come to dinner, but eventually you’ve gathered yourself enough to inspect the clothing Diluc brought you. There’s a black dress shirt, which is softer against your skin than it first looked as you button it up to your collarbone. Like his coat, it too carried a familiar fragrance of smoke and wine.
Turning to the rest of the stack, you’re confused to see a pair of dress pants and a pair of men’s... underwear?
They also smell like him… you think, as you pull them on.
Diluc, still fighting a blush, is leaning against the wall outside your door when Adelinde finds him. A hurried conversation ensues that you don’t catch much of from inside, but it’s clear enough that Adelinde is laughing at her master’s expense. 
She knocks, asking if you’re dressed, and waits for your affirmation before she enters. You hold up the slacks to her, a question on your lips, but the head maid puts her hand on yours before you say a word.
“You don’t have to wear those unless you want to. I know they’re far from the most comfortable pants in the world. Besides, it’s only Master Diluc and us maids here,” she assures you. “You have nothing to worry about, dear. It’s up to you.” You return her smile and fold the slacks, passing them to her waiting hand. “Why don’t you come sit by the fire while I set the table?” 
Thus assured, you leave the safety of the guest bedroom in only Diluc’s shirt and boxer briefs. Outside, the lord of the manor himself is standing in the hallway with a look of contrition on his face. 
He turns at the sound of the door and his eyes meet yours. 
It’s fatal. You offer him a smile, hoping to pretend the earlier situation never happened, but you’re met instead with a blank stare that makes you falter. Was he… angry? 
Archons, did he think you had let him into your room on purpose while you were undressed? The thought sends you spiraling. This was bad. You have to fix this. You fiddle with the hem of the dress shirt and prepare to apologize.
Across from you, Diluc is fighting an uphill battle with his self control to keep his eyes on yours as you stand before him in only his underwear. 
You were supposed to be wearing pants. Not… fuck, you’re staring at him like he has three heads. He has to say something. He has to set your mind at ease. He has to be a gentleman.
Think of Varka. Think of Seamus Pegg. Think of fucking Barbatos. For the love of Celestia do not think of anything else. Now SAY something.
“...How was your bath?” 
You blink. “It was… lovely, thank you.”
DO NOT THINK OF HER IN THE BATH. 
By the grace of whatever archons are watching over him, Diluc manages to carry a stilted conversation with you in which he apologizes profusely for his behavior earlier.
You do your best to reassure him that it was an honest mistake and no harm was done (except to your heart, but you’d hardly admit that). You soon find that he’s also asking your pardon for the “inappropriate” selection of clothes he brought you, however.
“Please, don’t apologize. They’re very comfortable.” You smile at him and Diluc feels his heart skip far too many beats. “Thank you again for your kindness, Diluc.” Archons, he loves the way you say his name. You’ll kill him at this rate.
Soon he’s falling into step behind you as Adelinde leads you into the dining room and seats you by the fire with a blanket. Satisfied that you’re comfortable, he turns and prepares to return to his study for the evening. 
Before he can, though, he’s arrested by your voice, innocently asking if he wouldn’t be joining you for dinner.
“I’m afraid I have… work to attend to,” he murmurs, glancing up to his office. “My apologies. I hope you enjoy- ow, Adelinde -”
The maid in question has two fingers wrapped around Diluc’s ear and is wearing a look of exasperation as she tugs on it, ignoring his words of protest. In a voice that suggests this is a common occurrence, she strongly forbids him from doing any more work tonight.
“Is it not the job of the master of the manor to keep his guests company?”
“Adelinde...”
“Master Diluc.”
He sighs, meeting your eyes with a sheepish look. “It appears that I’ll be joining you after all.”
With that, he settles himself in the armchair adjoining your couch, allowing his large frame to relax into it. A pleasant quiet descends as you watch the fire, listening to the maids readying the meal in the kitchen and the storm as it continues to rage outside.
You’re brought out of your reverie by Diluc’s voice, softer than you’ve yet heard it.
“May I ask how you found yourself out in the downpour this afternoon?”
You smile. “For the same reason I was out the first time we met.” He nods in recognition, glancing at the gathering bag and basket that still hang by the door to the winery.
“So, you’re a botanist, then? Or maybe an herbalist?”
The two of you continue this way, Diluc asking you questions about yourself in a low voice, and you answering them in the same soft tone. You lose track of time in the easy back-and-forth. 
After what feels like only a few minutes, a maid alerts you that dinner is ready; you rise and stretch, the blanket falling away from where it covers your bare legs. Diluc pointedly looks away, but you’re too distracted by the lovely smells coming from the table behind you to pay him any mind.
Walking ahead of you, Diluc draws out the seat adjacent to the head of the table and waits for you to sit before taking his own seat. The maids have been busy: a pot of tea, a bottle of sparkling wine, plates of roast beef, green beans, buttered potatoes, and stuffing, a tray of candied pecans, an apple tart, and a myriad of smaller dishes all line the ornate table. For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to take a portion of anything. 
Fortunately, Adelinde appears beside you and asks which and how much of each dish you would like, and soon your plate is as full as it can be.
For a while, the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you eat. The food is beyond reproach. Either the maids and Adelinde have pulled out all the stops tonight for you, or wealthy estate owners eat like this every night. You’re not sure which makes you feel more out of place, but the food is too delicious and you’re too tired to dwell on such things now.
Periodically, Diluc asks how you’re liking a certain dish or if you would like more of what you’re drinking. As the maids top off your glass of wine and you begin to feel the day catch up with you, however, your responses to Diluc get slower and shorter until you can barely keep your eyes open. 
Through your lowered lids, you’re graced with the sight of a rare smile as the man next to you takes you in. He stands, offering you an ungloved hand in a silent offer to escort you to your room. You’re too exhausted to notice the color that comes to his face when you gladly take it and get to your stumbling feet. 
By the time you’ve reached the door to your room, you’re leaning more on him than you are on your own legs. Offering Diluc a drowsy smile, you bow a little and thank him once again. He returns it in kind, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit. He’s never looked more handsome.
“Have a restful night. With any luck, the storm will abate by morning. Please, if there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to come ask me.”
And with that, he leaves you to the plush sheets of the guest room. You’re asleep almost before your head hits the pillow.
You dream of smoke and wine.
In the small hours of the morning, you awake to a cold draft that makes you shiver and a mind fuzzy from sleep. You try in vain to return to sleep, the soft silk sheets beckoning to you, but a peal of thunder seems to shake the house every time you close your eyes.
Sighing, you sit up and rub your eyes. It’s almost pitch black in the room; the sun won’t rise for several hours yet.
Maybe you could make yourself a cup of tea? You shiver a bit, drawing the covers tighter around you. Sitting by the fire doesn’t sound bad, either.
Your feet are quiet on the carpeted floor as you gently open your bedroom door and step into the hallway. Sure enough, there’s a flickering light from the main room; the fire must be still alive in the grate.
You gather the blanket around you and hurry towards the warmth, only to stop short at the silhouette of a figure sitting where you were earlier. You take another tentative step onto the floorboards, but a creak gives you away. The figure stiffens and turns to face you.
Diluc’s face and frame relaxes when he sees you, but there is still a hint of worry in his tone when he asks, “Is there something wrong? Are you warm enough in your room?”
You nod, stepping gingerly around the couch to sit next to him. He shifts a little to give you more space as you pull your legs up beside you. “Everything’s fine. I just went to bed a little too early,” you assure him. “Could I trouble you to let me into the kitchen? I’d like to make myself a cup of tea, if it’s alright.”
“Please, allow me,” he murmurs, producing a pot and a second cup from the table next to him, where he was apparently enjoying one himself.
You sip it gratefully, allowing the taste to linger in your mouth. “May I ask why the esteemed Master Diluc is still awake at this hour?”
He smiles a bit at that and mentions that he never sleeps well during storms.
The two of you watch the flames as you sip your tea, listening to the patter of rain on the roof. Even at this hour, the fire is still going strong. A thought strikes you and you turn to Diluc’s lap.
Sure enough, his vision is glowing, pulsing in a gentle bump-bump pattern that you’ve heard matches the wielder’s heartbeat. It relaxes you to see it so steady and dependable.
Before long, the warmth of the fire and the tea have lulled you back soundly to sleep. 
For the first time today, Diluc allows his gaze to rake over you unhindered.
You, asleep on his couch in his manor. Smelling like him. Dressed in his shirt and underwear.
In only his shirt and underwear, the least helpful part of his brain reminds him, and he has to stare at the fire for a while to curb that train of thought. It’s difficult when his gaze keeps flickering back to you anyway.
He counts himself lucky you’re not awake to see how the fire in the grate has grown in size and intensity, or how the vision on his hip is flickering in a wild bmp-bmp-bmp.
After reciting everything he knows of Mondstadtian foreign policy in his head a few times, he’s able to tone down the blush on his face enough to be manageable. As for the familiar, tight ache in his pants, he regards it as a lost cause. For now.
Diluc stands, stretching his arms with a quiet groan before turning to your sleeping form. He gently scoops you up into strong arms and wraps you tighter in the blanket you’re still clinging to, careful not to wake you. As he begins the slow walk to your doorway, a small smile adorns his face.
Upon ducking into your room, careful not to hit your legs against the doorway, he frowns. It’s much colder here than it was in the living room. He’ll have to do something about that.
As he places you under the covers, he unclips the vision from his thigh and folds it into your hand, where it thrums with a gentle rhythm . You drift awake for a moment, recognizing the red mane that hangs over your chest as Diluc tucks in the blanket around you.
Seeing your eyes flicker, he calls your name gently. “Are you comfortable?” You nod with a smile that hurts his heart in the best way. 
“Thank you, Diluc,” you murmur blearily, and he laughs a bit. You have just enough consciousness left to decide it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard as you slip back under the blanket of sleep.
That night, as the storm continues to rage outside his bedroom windows, Diluc sleeps better than he has in a long time. Downstairs, his vision pulses in your hand to his steady heartbeat.
You dream of warmth.
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ohnogenshverse · 10 days
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So the facts are (with spoilers, obviously)
There are 5 sinners. Rhinedottir (Albedo's creator), Surtalogi (Skirk's master), Vedrfolnir (Dain's brother) and then "Rächer of Solnari" ("Avenger of Solnari") Rerir and "The Wise" Hroptatyr who we know nothing about, but since other sinners have some relations to playable or future playable characters it's not out of the realm of possibility that Rerir and Hroptatyr do too
"They were once people of great esteem in Khaenri'ah, those who carried the hopes of the nation"
According to Dain the sinners couldn't resist the call of the abyss and became transcendent beings in possessing of a great power before or during the Cataclysm. However other source (Shadow amidst snowstorms event) mentions that Rhinedottir became a sinner after Khaenri'ah fell. I'm pretty sure the one who said that was Albedo, who was created after the Cataclysm
Kaeya's father left him in Mondstadt as "Khaenri'ah's last hope"
Alberich is the surname of the founder of the Abyss order and Kaeya is his descendant. Kaeya claims that he didn't know about that.
During the Cataclysm pure-blood Khaenri'ahns turned immortal, others turned into monsters
Chlothar Alberich, the founder of the Abyss order, had an illegitimate son who turned into a hilichurl and died young. We don't know if he had legitimate children and we know nothing about his other possible relatives. Even if he did have other children, he didn't sound too fond of "the life that my family had arranged for me"
Chlothar had founded the Abyss Order after a religious experience an encounter with Vedrfolnir. He has also died at least 100 years after founding the Order, even through he was supposed to be immortal
The Alberich Clan was a nobility clan who was known for producing leaders of Khaenri'ah's knights. Anfortas Alberich became a regent when King Irmin was unable to rule. Anfortas supposedly died in Sumeru. It's is NOT confirmed from what I got: we have a message which says that his squad fought to the last one and an achievement In the name of Anfortas "visit the place where the heroes met their end". Is Anfortas considered part of these heroes?
We don't know the relation between Kaeya, Chlothar and Anfortas apart from the fact that they are relatives
So, currently one of the sinners (Rerir or Hroptatyr, most likely) being an Alberich and therefore related to Kaeya and the Abyss order is not impossible. Hells, even Vedrfolnir and/or Dain could be an Alberich - we don't know their last name but we know that at least Dain was a knight, and the captain of the Royal Guard is a high title. And Alberich clan had a lot of high ranking knights.
But even if we leave Dain&Vedrfolnir out, still. The Sinners were held in high esteem, same as the only aristocratic clan we currently know of.
Also idk, the fact that Dain called them the hopes and Kaeya was called the last hope doesn't seem meaningless to me. But someone should probably check if chinese uses the same word, it might be a translation coincidence
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weirdmarioenemies · 3 months
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SURPRISE! Did you think the day would come when we would cover Love Live on this blog? I didn't!
Yohane the Parhelion: Blaze in the Deepblue is the Metroidvania-style game based on the fantasy spin-off of Love Live Sunshine, but you probably don't care about that! Statistically speaking, our target audience is Bogleech readers who are deeply revolted by anime girls!
So why bring up? Why bring it up? The answer is 🐠 FUNNY FISH! It's Funny Fish Friday!
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Since this game is set in an underwater temple, the enemies this game are all based on sea creatures, and that's cool! Again, statistically speaking, you probably think sea creatures are cool. I really liked seeing the variety of enemies when playing through this game, so I thought it'd be fun if I could share them with an audience of people who otherwise wouldn't care! None of the enemies really have names, as far as I'm aware of. But I'll do my Rubesty...?
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Our first guy we encounter in the game is the sort of guy who emerges from the ground like the Zombies from Castlevania, and wow! A good first impression I think. It is sort of a squid mantle, if the mantle was also a cloak for a spooky sort of wizard! The way it doesn't really have a 'face' in the hood and the eye is below really makes it seem like a weird mimic creature. Cool!
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They also get a tough lategame variant which looks like a mix between a flapjack and a vampire squid. You don't often see flapjacks be designed as scary!
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Next is Barnacles! A whole clump of them, like a cake. They shoot Energy Balls at you. Is this what Barnacles can do if they combine their powers...? The top actually opens up, and it looks a lot like a sea urchin's mouth! So maybe it is some sort of naked urchin creature covered in barnacles? Game Theory!
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There are also barnacles with Ice Powers. Like real life!
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Let's give it up for Garden Eel!!!!
What a fine Garden Eel it is! Complete with the sort of grumpy face, and with the addition of two little arms that make it look like it's praying or maybe a bit shy. But it is mean! It also spits energy balls at you, then hides in the hole so you can't hit it. How very sneaky!
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SO sneaky, in fact, that these eels have mastered the art of ninjutsu! The ninja eel shows up for a split second in one single room, before smoke bombing away. You'd have to use a time freeze power to get him, but I never got around to doing that. I don't have any beef with a ninja eel! I respect him and his training!
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Did someone say CTENOPHORE? I hope you did, or my hearing has really gotten worse. This thing is a grade A ctenophore, only with a ring of Scary Teeth! A little scary to think of a ctenophore who could Bite you, but nonetheless this deserves a :ctenopog:!
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Let's not forget Fish Vortex! Fish Vortex was the first guy to make me go 'wow, this game's enemies really are awesome!' So of course I had to put him at the top of the post! He is my selling point! I am selling all these enemies to you. For 4.99 a pop!
Anyway. This design is just so funny and cool at the same time. A swirling school of fish that leads into an endless dark abyss, and in the middle, a big eyeball. Also covered in fish. It shoots fish at you! Yay!
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There is also a pink variant - it shoots fish that give you the Solitude status effect, which basically just makes Yohane too depressed to summon her friends. Meaning? They are Depression Fish! Maybe she just becomes so jealous of the unity and teamwork of these sardines. She's me like just for real! ^_^
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isopot :)
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This slug is an umbrella. That is ridiculous! Ridiculously EPIC! It does the opposite of shield you from rain, which is create rain, that kills you. But I would still want one as an umbrella.
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When I first saw this thing, I thought it was some strange round Echimoderm I had never heard of. But upon further inspection (I actually asked Mod Chikako shh), it is obviously like a Brittle Star, with each arm folded round to form a wheel! How creative and fun! It even has a bunch of eyes like a starfish!
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Last but not least- sushi! There are sushi guys and they are cute. They don't really do much and are typically found in their own rooms, so I'm not sure what the point of them is. But finding a funny walking sushi should be a reward in of itself, I guess! Look at their funny rice feet! Or the one with the roe eyes!
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I happened to use fire magic on one of them and this happened. Oopsies...
Now I am sure you are saying, thank you for showing me all these funny enemies. But are there any cool bosses? Of course there are, me! What's a Metroidvania without cool bosses? So I shall show you my favorites without delay!
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First is this freak (affectionate)! It is a sort of amalgamation of lots of different animals and I think it just looks plain cool! Two squid mantles combined into one, a bit of a sea angel shape, bug legs and of course a great big eyeball!
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If it is not freaky enough for you, let it be known that the bug legs turn into big green skeleton hands, and it also keeps getting pinker, and it grows new eyes and then extra horns grow out of those eyes. If THAT is not freaky enough for you then I am sorry but I cannot do anything about that.
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Now, how about a sampling of this Freaken Thang? It honestly doesn't seem that sea-creature themed, but it uses seashells so I guess it counts!
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What is really neat is that this boss has two different forms, upside down and rightside up! When it is upside down it looks a bit like a Magolor type creature. And of course, I really like the flame thing in the middle as well, that really feels like a Kirby enemy or something! Like a wisp made of plasma!
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Fans of Anomalocaris won't be disappointed by this one! It's a big Anomalocaris tank and boy is it cool! There's something for everyone here, whether you're an Anomalocaris purist or you've always wanted to see it turn into a sort of futuristic beast with a screen mouth that shoots lasers! It really is the future, zura...
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After covering all these wacky creatures, I'm going to have to end it off with the final boss! What could the big bad, the ultimate boss of all these sea monsters even be, I wonder? Well, it's...
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...a coelecanth. Just a big coelacanth! It is big and blue! And really, does it need to be anything else? It is such an honor to make the biggest ultimate boss a coelacanth. It is even pretty cute!! Think he's smiling! 😊
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Uh oh! Is it still cute? I guess so. My first thought seeing this was of course the world-renowned tongue eating isopod, so I really hope it was an intentional reference! It probably just wants to shake hands. Still, a pretty simplistic design for our final boss, right?
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Buu buu! Its true form actually looks like this! Actually, it's kind of doing too much. Like let's tone it down a little?
So!! We beat the mega ultra coelacanth, and now we can find out what his motivation is! And it is... that he is the memories of the people of the past or something. And they all didn't want to be forgotten, so they turned into fish monsters! But we forgive them!
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It doesn't really matter. All the girlies gather around and sing him a song. Look how happy he is! I forgot I was talking about a Love Live game until now, actually. All's well that ends well, the end, et cetera! Hit it, Yohane! [imagine this is like the end of a kids movie where all the Love Live girls are having a dance party and there is a shot of the big coelacanth in jail and he's tapping his mouth fingers along to the beat]
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tainsan · 9 months
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misfits X
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⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader
⇥ warnings: anxiety, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of abuse, heavy emotions
⇥ word count: 10.5k
⇥ a/n: i have been gone for a very long time, i am so sorry to all of you who have been patiently waiting ;-; i've been very sick and unmotivated to write so it has been hard to keep up with the story.
⇢ masterlist ⇠
previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter
--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---
It has been mere days since the shocking revelation that your so-called friends from high school are not only alive but also present in your life once more. The grief that consumed you when they left, tearing at your heartstrings, seems to be the dominant emotion that courses through your veins. The rollercoaster of emotions leaves you stumbling, struggling to find solid ground amidst the chaos.
In the wake of their return, you have found refuge in Jisung's company. Thankfully, he managed to scavenge up some of your clothes from his messy wardrobe, sparing you the agony of stepping foot into the shared house that now carries a weight of dread. His kind gesture offers a small hint of comfort in an otherwise turbulent existence.
Despite your better judgement, you have been avoiding your lectures, terribly aware that Mingi awaits you outside your classroom, desperate to offer his apologies. The thought of facing the other members of Ateez, their familiar faces and the flood of memories they bring, fills you with an overwhelming sense of fragility. The mere prospect threatens to further unravel the fragile threads of your sanity.
Now, as Monday arrives, you know you have to summon the strength to go to class, as the lecture holds significant importance. In your heart, you would definitely pass by it all, preferring to remain cocooned in the solace of your (Jisung’s) bed, shielded from the harsh glare of reality and the potential encounter with the eight men you are struggling to avoid. Their lies, like menacing vines, consume you from within, gnawing at your fragile state of mind.
Thoughts race incessantly through your mind as you gaze into the mirror, meticulously adjusting your hair for what feels like the thousandth time. The act itself seems almost trivial in the grand scheme of things, a futile attempt to regain a semblance of control in a world that feels increasingly chaotic. Deep down, you question why you even bother to fuss over your appearance, knowing all too well that if you were to cross paths with one of your roommates, instinct would drive you to run in the opposite direction.
Despite the turmoil that has engulfed you, an internal battle rages within your soul. You yearn to harbour resentment and despise them for the pain they have caused, yet the magnetic pull of attraction, love, and sympathy overrides your every attempt to sever the ties that bind. The conflicting emotions leave you entangled in a web of emotional turmoil, struggling to make sense of it all.
“Are you almost ready?” Jisung’s voice sounds from outside of the bathroom door. In these past few days, Jisung has become an unwavering presence by your side, recognizing the delicate state of your emotions and the potential for a downward spiral into a deep, depressive abyss. He understands the fragility of your heart during such times, and he remains vigilant, refusing to leave you alone even for a moment. His solid support serves as a lifeline, anchoring you amidst the tumultuous storm raging within.
Not only Jisung, but Minho as well, has stepped up in caring for you with meticulous attention. Their devoted care feels overwhelming at times, as they anticipate your needs and comfort you through the darkest moments. Their steady presence and genuine concern provide a sense of solace amidst the chaos that engulfs your heart. Though you might initially find their efforts to be over the top, your gratitude swells within you, recognizing the immeasurable comfort they offer as they surround you with love and understanding.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you meekly smile at Jisung, who gives you a warm smile in return. Walking closer to you, he rests his hands on your shoulders, straightening out your oversized t-shirt that belongs to your best friend.
"You look amazing," Jisung's voice whispers softly, like a gentle breeze caressing your weary soul. His words carry a sense of warmth and tenderness, creating a serene haven where you can momentarily find rest from the turbulent storm within. You absorb his words; a flicker of a smile graces your lips. The genuine care and kindness reflected in his eyes and words offer a reprieve from the storm of emotions that swirl within. It is a gentle reminder that amidst the chaos, you are seen, cherished, and valued.
The morning sun casts its golden glow upon the bustling streets as you and Jisung embark on your walk to campus. An air of tension hangs heavily around you, evident in the way your steps falter and your gaze remains fixated on the ground. Anxiety tugs at your every nerve, as you dread the mere possibility of encountering even one of your roommates, the very individuals you have been actively avoiding for the past few days.
Approaching the school grounds, your heart lurches in your chest, threatening to escape its confines. Eyes darting around anxiously, scanning the surroundings in a desperate attempt to avoid any potential encounters. But fate, it seems, has a different plan in store.
Amidst the crowd of students, your gaze locks onto a familiar face - Jongho. Panic courses through your veins, urging you to flee from his impending presence. With a quick, desperate glance at Jisung, you silently implore for his support, hoping that you can slip away unnoticed.
But fate, it seems, has a cruel sense of timing. Before the two of you can make your escape, Jongho spots you, his eyes widening with recognition. Determination etches lines upon his face as he closes the distance between you, a sense of urgency in his stride.
Heart pounding in your chest, breath catching in your throat, as you brace yourself for the conversation you have been desperately trying to avoid. Jisung, ever the pillar of support, remains steadfast at your side, offering a calm presence amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Yet, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and curiosity as Jongho approaches. A whirlpool of thoughts churns within your mind, unsure of what Jongho might want to say and how it may impact the delicate balance you have been trying to maintain. The world seems to slow down as Jongho draws nearer, his voice calling out your name in desperation, catching the attention of curious onlookers.
Jongho comes closer to you and Jisung, a pang of concern grips your heart. Even from a distance, you can discern the telltale signs of exhaustion etched upon his features. His eye bags, once barely noticeable, now seem to protrude beneath his weary eyes. The paleness of his complexion accentuates the prominence of his cheekbones, a stark reminder of the toll recent events has taken on him.
A wave of empathy washes over you, accompanied by a deep ache within your chest. It becomes painfully clear that Jongho's fatigue extends beyond the realms of mere sleep deprivation. The visible indicators hint at a deeper struggle, one that transcends the boundaries of physical weariness. The realisation dawns upon you with a heavy weight — he has likely neglected his own well-being, rejecting the basic needs of nutrition and rest.
Jongho nears, you find yourself torn between the desire to hold onto your guarded stance and the instinctual urge to offer him comfort. With these thoughts swirling within you, you brace yourself for the conversation that awaits.
Instinctively, Jisung pushes you behind him, covering you from the sudden attention of people walking past. When Jongho reaches the two of you, before he can utter a single word, Jisung speaks for you.
"Jongho, please leave us alone," Jisung's voice rings out, his tone not harsh, but laced with a trace of resentment. Yet, as he takes in the hurt and desperation etched upon Jongho's face, a subtle shift occurs within him. The hardness in his eyes softens, and a glimmer of empathy flickers in the depths of his gaze. As he locks eyes with Jongho, Jisung senses a shared burden, the weight of regret and remorse. Though he had harboured slight anger, witnessing Jongho's sorrow evokes a sense of compassion within him.
In Jisung's gaze, there is a flicker of understanding. While he may not fully forgive or forget, he sees the layers of Jongho's struggle, the internal conflict that mirrors your own. It is in this moment, amidst the tangled emotions and unspoken truths, that Jisung hesitates, a hint of compassion softening the edges of his heart.
“Please can I speak with her?” Jongho’s voice is soft and the traces of hurt, and grief are evident in his voice, cutting through your heart.
“That is for ____ to decide.” Jisung replies, encouraging you to speak, knowing Jongho will not leave until he hears it from you.
Emerging from behind Jisung's protective stance, your eyes meet Jongho's, and in that electrifying moment, the world around you fades into insignificance. The image of Jongho, once perceived through a lens of set notions and distant encounters, undergoes an intense transformation before your eyes.
Gone is the label of the rough boy you initially encountered during tutoring sessions, replaced by a sudden flood of memories and shared moments. Unveiling the true heart of Jongho that had remained concealed until now. You recall his endearing shyness, the gentle laughter that would escape his lips as he blended seamlessly with his group of friends. The image of him occupying that familiar spot on that damn brown couch, a constant presence in your shared space, is etched into your memory with startling clarity.
The realisation washes over you like a bittersweet wave, leaving you both captivated and shaken. The complexities of Jongho's character, once overlooked or overshadowed, now come into focus with an overwhelming sense of resonance. It is as if you are peering beneath the surface, uncovering a fragile soul who, like you, is also grappling with his own demons.
“Please, ___. Just come home and let us explain everything.” Jongho exclaims, quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of the situation.
Caught in the whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you find yourself locked in a silent battle within your own mind. The weight of the decision to step foot in the house once more hangs heavily upon you, tugging at the fragile threads of your resolve. Each part of you wrestles with its own desires, yearning for resolution yet wary of the vulnerabilities it may expose.
One part of you longs for answers, craving the closure that can only come from hearing their explanations. Years of unanswered questions echo through the corridors of your thoughts, begging to be heard, to be acknowledged. The alluring possibility of understanding their motivations, of finding relief in their words, beckons to you like a siren's call. Yet, another part of you hesitates, wary of the profound impact their presence may have on you. Stepping foot back into the house could unravel the defences you have carefully constructed, blurring the boundaries between forgiveness and vulnerability. Their mere presence, with all its comforting familiarity, threatens to lure you into the embrace of forgiveness.
The struggle within you intensifies, an intricate dance between the desire for closure and the fear of falling back into old patterns. The decision carries immense weight, one that requires a delicate balance between self-preservation and the pursuit of understanding. As you weigh the consequences of your choice, the echoes of their absence reverberate within you. The house, once a sanctuary, now stands as a threshold that divides your past and your future.
In this moment of contemplation, you find solace in acknowledging the significance of your own growth. You recognize the power that lies within you to navigate this maze of emotions, to determine what is truly best for your well-being. Whether you choose to step foot back into the house or forge a new path forward, it is your strength and resilience that will guide you towards the resolution you seek. Even if you get the closure you desperately need, there is no saying you have to forgive them.
All you do is nod at Jongho, before turning away, with Jisung to walk to your class.
As the weight of the moment settles upon Jongho, it seems to hover in a state of suspended bliss. The heaviness that once consumed the atmosphere dissipates, replaced by an ethereal lightness that dances in the air. Emotions, once chaotic and burdened, now give way to a sense of hope and possibility.
In that decisive moment, you chose to open the door to hearing them out, to grant them the opportunity to share their truths. It is not a guarantee of forgiveness, nor does it absolve the pain of the past, but it signifies a willingness to explore the possibility of a shared future. By extending this invitation, you offer them a lifeline—a chance to keep you in their lives.
For them, this realisation dawns upon them with a poignant clarity. Through the trials and tribulations of the past few years, they have come to understand the significance of your presence in their lives. The understanding that they have a chance, however slight, to keep you by their side fills them with a renewed determination. They understand that it will require effort, growth, and vulnerability on their part to earn back your trust. But they are willing to embark on that journey, guided by the profound realisation that your existence in their lives is an irreplaceable source of joy and comfort where they can find nowhere else.
---
The hands of the clock slowly inch towards the final moments of your last class, time seems to stretch into an eternity. Each passing minute feels like a lifetime, the weight of the impending encounter with the boys growing heavier with each tick. The room feels suffocating, as if it plots to delay your agony, amplifying the anticipation that swirls within.
The professor's words echo in the background, lost in a haze of restless thoughts. Your mind races, contemplating the choices that lie before you. Should you muster the courage to face the boys, to honour your commitment to at least listen to what they have to say? Or should you succumb to the temptation of avoidance, prolonging the inevitable moment of confrontation?
In this moment of contemplation, the weight of your decision bears down upon you. The prospect of returning to the house, confronting the boys, feels like crossing an unstable path fraught with uncertainty. A part of you yearns to retreat, to shield yourself from the potential pain and vulnerability that lie ahead. It whispers enticingly, urging you to continue ignoring them, maintaining the safety of distance. Yet, you find yourself drawn to the unsaid promise you made to Jongho. The mere act of indicating your willingness to listen, to provide them with an opportunity to express themselves, tugs at your sense of integrity. It is a test of your strength and resilience, a reminder that you have the capacity to confront the complexities of the situation head-on.
As the final words of the professor hang in the air, the moment of truth draws near. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself in the knowledge that this choice holds the power to shape the path of your journey. The path ahead may be uncertain and scattered with challenges, but your willingness to at least hear them out serves as a witness to your unwavering spirit. With resolve in your heart, you gather your belongings and prepare to face what lies ahead. The weight of your decision lingers in the air, mingling with the fear and hope that swirl within you. As you step out of the classroom, the path stretches before you, beckoning you to embrace the unknown, to confront the boys and the truth that awaits within the walls of the house.
Walking down the well-known street, the familiarity of the surroundings adds a bittersweet tinge to your journey. Each twist and turn feels etched into your memory, the winding roads leading you closer to the house that now holds a complicated mix of emotions. Despite the hesitation that grips your heart, you navigate the route almost instinctively, the path fixed into your consciousness.
The daylight begins to vanish, casting long shadows along the familiar streets, you know that the time draws near for all eight of your roommates to gather in the house. The anticipation weighs upon you, the knowledge of their presence amplifying the nervous flutter in your chest. The prospect of confronting them, of delving into the depths of their shared secrets, feels like tiptoeing upon a fragile precipice.
Approaching the house, the nerves intensify, your fingers fidgeting restlessly. Doubt clouds your mind, tempting you to turn back, to postpone the conversation for another day. Deep within, a sense of fairness emerges, reminding you that they too have carried the burden of hidden truths for far too long.
Acknowledging the pain that they have endured, the empathy within your heart stirs. It becomes clear that it would be unfair to keep them waiting, to prolong the revelation that hangs in the air like a heavy blanket. With this understanding, you brace yourself, reminding yourself of the importance of confronting the truth, no matter how difficult or frightening it may be.
The fear and anticipation intertwine as you stand outside the house, its walls holding secrets that have shattered the foundation of trust. In this moment, you confront the choice between fleeting comfort and the pursuit of resolution. The weight of your decision hangs palpably in the air.
Summoning your strength, you take a deep breath, grounding yourself in the understanding that this conversation is an essential step towards healing. With your heart pounding in your chest, you push your key into the lock and open the door, stepping into the threshold of truth, ready to confront the tangled web of secrets that has bound you all together.
Stepping inside the house, a disquieting stillness envelops the familiar space, casting strangeness over the once vibrant home. The silence hangs heavy in the air, an eerie contrast to the usual symphony of sounds that greeted you upon entering. There was no Hongjoong engrossed in his favourite television show, no wild laughter or heated exchanges from upstairs, no uproar of gaming frustrations echoing through the halls. It feels as if the very essence of life has been sucked out of the walls, leaving behind a detectable tension and an unspoken grief.
The sudden absence of the usual noise, the absence of the positive vibrations that always greet you, sends a jolt of unease through your being. It hits you like a punch to the gut, a stark reminder that something is missing. The once comforting and lively atmosphere has been replaced with a ghostly silence that creeps around every corner, coating the walls with a layer of sombre tension.
Standing frozen in the hallway, you take a moment to steady your racing heart, attempting to calm the tears that threaten to overflow. The weight of the situation settles heavily upon your shoulders, pressing down on your chest, and you can't help but feel an overwhelming heaviness seep into all of your nerves.
Summoning your determination, you continue on your path towards the kitchen, a glimmer of hope guiding your steps. It is there, in the heart of the house, that you anticipate finding at least one familiar face. As you approach the kitchen door, a mix of apprehension and curiosity courses through your veins.
Peeking your head around the doorframe, your eyes widen as they meet the gaze of eight pairs of shocked eyes fixated on you. The burden of their collective surprise hangs in the air, their gaze evidence to the significance of your arrival. Amidst the sea of bewildered expressions, you lock eyes with Jongho, and in that moment, his grateful smile speaks volumes. It is a silent acknowledgement, a wordless exchange of gratitude for upholding your promise to listen, even amidst the uncertainty and fear.
In the middle of the tense silence, a glimmer of connection flickers. It is a fragile thread that links you to these individuals, a reminder that, no matter the pain and secrets that have plagued you all, there is still a bond that is held, even though it is fragile and close to absolute deterioration, it is still there. With a deep breath, you step further into the kitchen, ready to face the uncharted territory of conversations and revelations that lie ahead.
With each unsteady step that carries you closer to the kitchen island, a collective sense of uncertainty radiates from the eight figures gathered there. Their eyes, filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope, fixate upon you as you navigate the space between you. The empty seat beside Yeosang and San beckons, a silent invitation that holds comfort for your legs that are having a difficult time keeping you steady.
Your gaze sweeps across the faces gathered around the kitchen island, a wave of emotion washes over you. Each face bears the unmistakable marks of weariness and exhaustion, mirroring the expression you witnessed on Jongho's face earlier. The toll of sleepless nights and the weight of the situation are etched upon their features, an unspoken testament to the impact it has had on each of them. A mixture of sadness and relief floods your heart as you realise that you are not alone in your heavy burden. The sight of their tired eyes and the fatigue carved upon their faces serves as a bittersweet reassurance. It signifies that you are not the sole bearer of the pain and turmoil that has enveloped your shared lives.
You settle into the vacant chair. In this suspended moment, the depth of their anticipation is mirrored in your own hesitant presence.
Amidst the collective hush, a voice breaks through the stillness, trembling with raw emotion. It is San, meekly calling out your name, his voice laced with tears and the influence of sleepless nights spent tormented by his own thoughts. His words carry the weight of prayers answered, a great relief washing over him as he utters your name. The tears that well in the corners of his eyes bear witness to the depth of his feelings, the feeling of uncertainty and longing finally finding release. It is an indication of the immense magnitude of your presence, a ray of hope that pierces through the darkness that has consumed them all.
San's voice lingers in the air, the collective tension begins to give way to an unspoken understanding. In this hushed atmosphere, time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself holds its breath. The conversations that will follow, the revelations and vulnerabilities that will be shared, hold the potential to reshape the very fabric of your shared existence. With a blend of anticipation, trepidation, and hope, you brace yourself for the words that are threatening to spill out of your mouth.
“So,” you begin, and you visibly notice how the men around you hold their breaths, “I would like some answers, please.”
The silent exchange among the eight men speaks volumes, their eyes shifting from one another as they grapple with the weight of their collective emotions. The question lingers in the air, a wordless plea for guidance on who should step forward, who should bear the burden of answering the questions that weigh heavily on your heart.
San, Mingi, and Wooyoung wish to lend their voices to the conversation, to offer their words and share the depths of their own emotions. Yet, their throats feel constricted, choked by the overwhelming surge of emotions that threaten to spill forth. Their gaze flits between their companions, seeking solace and support amidst the tangled web of feelings that entwines them.
Among this silent deliberation, the focus gravitates towards Seonghwa and Hongjoong, their presence commanding attention. Their eyes meet yours, and you can discern the shimmering tears that cling to the edge of Seonghwa's gaze, mirroring the pain that echoes within your own heart.
Yet, it is Hongjoong's visage that strikes you with a profound sense of shock. The once playful, teasing glimmer in his eyes is replaced by a heartbroken expression that etches lines of sorrow upon his face. The stark contrast between his usual demeanour and the raw vulnerability that now radiates from him leaves you breathless. It is as if you are witnessing the unmasking of a side that has long been concealed, revealing the depth of his own pain and remorse.
“Ask us anything, we will answer truthfully.” Hongjoong says, his voice carrying its familiar authority, yet laced with a tenderness that wraps around you like a comforting embrace. His words hold a weight of sincerity, a genuine desire to be heard and understood. It's as if the sharp edges that once defined his voice have been softened, replaced by a warmth that melts the barriers between you.
You are not sure where to start, your words feeling as if they are stuck in your throat, you start with the most obvious question, even though it sounds absolutely absurd the second it leaves your mouth.
“It is you, right? KQ Fellaz?” you question, looking between each male.
With a collective display of understanding and respect, each of the men nods in response to your question. Their movements are deliberate, their expressions conveying a sense of sincerity and truth. The certainty of their response is evident, and you feel a surge of belief coursing through your veins. At that moment, there is no need for further questions or doubts. Their shared conviction and the earnestness in their eyes have already solidified your trust.
A heavy silence blankets the room, its weight suffocating your attempts to vocalise the question that weighs heavily on your heart. Despite the thoughts swirling within your mind, the words seem to escape you, slipping through your fingers like whispers carried away by the wind. You search for the right combination of words to give voice to your deepest inquiries, but they remain just out of reach, shrouded in the shadows of your thoughts. The intensity of your desire to ask the question on the tip of tongue is palpable, yet the silence persists. Gathering all of the courage in your body, you ask the very question that has been bugging your mind for years now.
“Why did you leave?” Your question hangs in the room like a weighty presence, casting a palpable tension that lingers in the air. The collective hearts of the men are gripped by this inquiry, their own emotions entwined with the weight of what was said. You can feel the tears beginning to well in the corners of your eyes, yet you desperately hold them back. Needing to stay strong in this moment that defines your future.
The weight of silence extends on, Hongjoong's thoughtful pause stretching longer than you anticipated. You can sense the inner workings of his mind, the gears turning as he searches for the words that would bear the weight of their sudden disappearance and the pain you've endured alone. Each passing second amplifies the intensity of the moment, heightening your anticipation for his response.
When his voice finally breaks the stillness, his words carry a weight that transcends the physical realm. They hold a depth of emotion that reverberates through the space, a profound sense of responsibility and remorse. The heaviness in his tone resonates with the burden he has carried, the knowledge of the pain you have endured, and the weight of their choice to vanish from your life.
"It was the only way we could protect you," Hongjoong's voice emerges, laden with a mix of sincerity, regret, and a touch of vulnerability. His words, like boulders rolling off his chest, reveal the heavy burden that has rested upon his heart all these years. It is a confession that unveils the depth of their sacrifice, the lengths they went to shield you from an unknown danger.
The impact of his words lands like an earthquake, shaking the foundation of your understanding and leaving you grappling with a multitude of emotions. The mixture of relief and frustration swirl within you, wrestling for dominance. Relief that they had acted out of concern for your well-being, but also frustration at the immense pain and loneliness you endured in their absence.
Hongjoong's admission floats in the air, the gravity of his words resonating in the profound silence that follows. The room is filled with the weight of unspoken emotions, the recognition of their sacrifice, and the bittersweet revelation that their actions were driven by love, even at the cost of their own presence in your life.
Holding back the tears that are threatening to fall, you gather up the words to reply to his statement, “can you please elaborate?” Your voice is soft, yet the harsh emotions are easily detectable by the way your tone shakes and fumbles.
Taking a deep breath, Hongjoong replies once again. “We don’t want to scare you.”
“Please,” you breathe out, your tone exasperated, begging for answers, “please tell me, I’m done with secrets.”
Hongjoong meticulously observes both you and his friends, carefully gauging the situation. He takes a moment to assess your broken state, fully aware that rebuilding your trust is of utmost importance. With a deep breath, he knows he must share the truth with you.
“Dae’s friends, along with people we have never even met before, started threatening us.” Hongjoong pauses as he sees the first tear fall from your eyes, furrowing his eyebrows, he continues, “at first, we didn’t care. We could take care of ourselves, stand up for ourselves. They didn’t like that we did not react to their threats.”
As you nod, the weight of the words settles heavily upon you, causing a pang of pain. Yet, with sheer determination, you push through the discomfort and resolve to keep listening, knowing that facing the truth is crucial for your growth and understanding.
“We tried to keep you unknown to them, but one of them found out about you. They said they were going to hurt you, destroy you, the same way they destroyed us.”
Shock and anguish wash over your face, betraying the emotions swirling within. Tears well up, cascading down your cheeks as your heart tightens with pain. Despite the overwhelming emotions, you find a glimmer of clarity as the truth penetrates your consciousness. Bit by bit, the pieces of the puzzle start falling into place, shedding light on their actions and intentions. The newfound understanding begins to bring a sense of coherence to the tumultuous situation, even if it doesn't immediately ease the pain in your heart.
“They told us to leave, or they would…” Hongjoong's hands tremble as he desperately clings to the edge of the counter, seeking physical support to steady his emotional turmoil. The mere thought of any harm coming to you becomes an unbearable weight on his shoulders, overwhelming him with a sense of protectiveness and concern. His eyes reflect the depth of his emotions, a mix of fear, remorse, and a fierce determination to shield you from any further pain or hardship. “They said they would kill you, or they would tear your life apart. At first we thought we could protect you, but we ended up deciding it would be better if we were not in your life.”
As the truth sinks in and the weight of it all bears down upon you, your world crumbles into fragments, and your heart shatters into pieces once again. The pain is immense, as if it's not the first time you've experienced heartbreak, but a recurring nightmare that persists relentlessly. The hurt runs deep, touching upon old wounds and scars, amplifying the anguish you feel in this moment. It's an emotional vortex that engulfs you entirely, leaving you feeling vulnerable and utterly devastated.
Tears fall freely from your eyes as you let the information sink in. Even though the ordeal transpired years ago, the fear of the possible situation scratches at your heart and breaks you down. Both San and Yeosang long to pull you into their arms upon seeing you slowly break down again, wishing to cradle you in their embrace, yet they remain still.
“What?” You manage to get out, your voice trembling.
“They can’t hurt you now. Never again.” Seonghwa is quick with his words, desperate to reach out and offer comfort.
The room falls into an uneasy and heavy silence, as the tension and disbelief hang thick in the air. The boys, overwhelmed with remorse and regret, yearn for you to break the silence, to hear your thoughts and feelings, and to find some solace in knowing how to proceed from this point onward. They long to hear your voice, hoping that your words can help ease their troubled minds, even if just a little. Each of them carries a mix of emotions, their faces reflecting a mixture of anxiety, hope, and the desire to make amends for the pain they have caused. With a trembling voice, you finally muster the courage to break the heavy silence.
“Why couldn't you tell me that? You guys just disappeared when I needed you.” Your confession pours forth, baring the raw emotions that have been bottled up inside.
The boys’ hearts break as they come to terms with the hurt they have caused you. The weight of their actions, coupled with the impact on your trust and emotions, is now laid bare before them. Remorse and regret fill their hearts, and the realisation of the consequences of their choice’s dawns upon them.
In this poignant moment, your question lingers, hanging in the air, and it echoes in their minds. The burden of seeking redemption and finding a way to mend what has been broken now rests heavily upon their shoulders.
Yunho's heart threatens to shatter under the weight of emotions, a surge of rage unexpectedly rises within him, overpowering the pain he's experiencing. The intensity of his anger eclipses the ache, becoming a fierce and agitated storm within. His emotions collide, leaving him torn between heartbreak and fury, struggling to make sense of the conflicting feelings that now consume him.
“We needed you too. You disappeared for a whole week after that happened then suddenly appeared to play hero with Seonghwa then left again? Where were you ____?” Yunho’s voice rising, his emotions getting the better of him.
“Didn't you guys ever think to ask?” You question the tall man sitting diagonal to you, your voice starting to match his volume.
“We couldn't find you, of course we didn’t ask. What do you even mean by that?”
“Didn't you think to ask why I was on that rooftop? Why didn’t I see you for weeks?”
“What is it then? What is so difficult for you that you ignored us when we needed you so badly?”
“Yunho.” You bellow, your voice bouncing off the walls and silencing the accusatory man in front of you. “Have you a single bone of remorse in your body?”
As he goes to retort, you cut him off, not knowing if you can stand another word of his accusations.
“If you want to know so fucking badly.” You draw in a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself in the midst of the overwhelming emotions. Your hands instinctively find their place on the counter in front of you, seeking a physical anchor to regain some sense of balance. “After it all started. I didn't disappear because I believed those horrendous rumours, I saw you guys as my best friends. For fucks sake, I knew you, I know you. Do you think I would ever believe that in a million years?”
They breathe out in relief. It appears as if you never believed the rumours, causing what feels like years of torment to be lifted off their chests. Yet something seems to still be resting on your chest, so they continue listening. Yunho feels his heart lighten up, yet being caught in the rage of the moment, he seems to not be able to bite back his tongue.
“What is it then huh? What's your amazing reason?”
Your heart shatters into countless pieces as you come to the painful realisation that the only way for Yunho and the others to believe you is to share the truth, just as they have bravely done. The weight of this understanding presses upon you, knowing that they deserve an explanation for the hurt and confusion they have endured.
“My brother died a few weeks before I met Seonghwa.”
Yunho’s eyebrows furrow, the recognition of your confession from a while ago resurfacing his memory. When he doesn’t speak, you continue, “my father couldn’t bear with losing his precious son, that he resulted in alcohol and using me as a punching bag to get rid of his anger.”
As each of the males listens to your words, their breath catches in their throats, the gravity of the situation hitting them hard. The profound urge to shield and safeguard you intensifies, almost suffocating in its intensity, as they can't bear the mere thought of you being hurt.
Among them, Jongho, with a gentle and caring voice, softly calls out your name, trying to anchor you in the present moment. He sees your emotions threatening to overwhelm your mind, and he wants to be there for you, to provide a sense of support and comfort in this tumultuous time. His concern shines through his eyes, as he reaches out emotionally, hoping to be a stabilising presence amidst the tempest of feelings swirling around you.
“Then I met you guys, and everything started to seem alright. I finally had people to rely on, to love.”
The men surrounding you feel their hearts soften as you make your heartfelt admission. Your vulnerability and sincerity touch something deep within them, evoking a genuine sense of empathy and understanding. Their cheeks flush with warmth, a mix of emotions swirling within them, as they take in your tender words.
“When the rumour first started, when Seonghwa and I ran home from school that one day,”
Seonghwa feels his heart warm up remembering the tender hug you shared in front of the warehouse that day, yet he feels it becoming colder as he realises there is more to your story.
“When I got home, I found my dead mother . Pretty damn important if you ask me. Try watching the only person who actually cared about you slip away before your own eyes.”
The tension in the room escalates upon hearing your reason. The answers circulating in their heads slowly getting answered.
“My own father couldn't last a day without tormenting me because he was convinced, I was the reason of my brother’s death when the only thing my brother was doing was protecting me for fucks sake.”
Despite witnessing your friends' emotions shift into overwhelming guilt, your determination remains resolute. Even as your heart continues to shatter into pieces, you recognize the importance of them knowing the truth. You understand that the path to healing and reconciliation requires the painful truth to be laid bare, no matter how difficult it may be for both you and them.
“He didn't turn up to my mother's funeral and I had to bury her by myself. Those weeks I prayed that someone would come and find me, but nobody did. I understand that you had your own problems, but did you really care that little about me as to not even think where I was?”
“____, that's unfair.” Yunho manages to say, his throat tightening as he regrets the rage that he suddenly laid on you.
“I went up to that damn rooftop because I was going to do it.” You almost yell, “I was going to kill myself because I couldn’t live like that anymore. I wanted to finally feel like I had one choice with how my life pans out.”
When the truth slowly dawns upon them, the hearts of the men collectively break, realising the reasons behind your actions and the extreme pain you must have endured. The focus on protecting you from outside threats now shifts to the realisation that they should have been protecting you from yourself. The weight of their guilt becomes almost suffocating as they comprehend that their actions, or lack thereof, played a role in the events that unfolded.
Seonghwa's heart, in particular, feels like it's being crushed under his own emotions. The fog of the extreme day he experienced clears, and he can now see the significance of the signs he missed and the opportunity he could have taken to intervene. The regret and remorse threaten to overwhelm him, and he struggles to find the words to express the pain he feels for not being there when you needed him the most.
“Every day I am carrying the grief of three people, and it is constantly tearing me apart. I know you have your struggles but don’t forget you are not the only people in the world carrying heavy shit on your back, Yunho." As your words spill forth, your grip tightens on the counter, seeking balance and control. Avoiding direct eye contact, you release the pain and frustration that has been pent up within you.
When you finally gather the strength to meet the gaze of the men around you, the sight of their broken eyes and hearts pierces through your own emotional turmoil. In that crucial moment, a realisation washes over you like a tidal wave. Their intentions were not born out of spite but rather a result of profound misunderstanding. Their guilt and remorse become palpable, and you sense the genuine remorse they carry for their misjudgements.
"I'm sorry for leaving you guys." you speak out, feeling as if it was something your entire being needed to say, to release the wires that have been wrapped around your heart for years.
"____," Mingi calls out, the weight of your words heavy on his heart. Anxiety threatening to swallow him whole.
“We are sorry too. Sincerely.” Hongjoong says, the weight on his heart feeling as if it is slowly being lifted and you can tell Hongjoong speaks for all of the men around you.
The room remains quiet for a while, Yeosang reaching his arm up to rest a comforting hand on your shoulder, he caresses your arm gently with his thumb, hoping it will give you some form of support. Tears are being split from each man, the fact that you would ever cause harm to yourself makes their entire world spin and crash around them, the mere thought of losing you breaking their souls in two.
"I have another question." you speak out, breaking the silence, you are still curious about one more thing. 
“Of course.” Seonghwa replies, his own heart also becoming lighter upon hearing your apology.
"Why did you pretend like you didn't know me, for years?" you ask, needing to know why they introduced themselves into your life so late, when you have been in the same school for almost three years.
"We didn't know it was you either." Seonghwa says, his voice soft yet comforting. meaning behind his words, “not until recently.”
"What do you mean?" 
"Well, you do live under a rock ____." Wooyoung exclaims, a joking tone behind his voice lifting the tension of the room ever so slightly.
The tension in the room begins to ease as the men around you witness your response to the joking statement. They are relieved to see that you take it in stride, and a subtle, knowing smile starts to play at the corners of your lips. The shared moment of light-heartedness provides a much-needed reprieve from the emotional intensity that had filled the air just moments before.
"It was fine the first year, we ignored everyone because we didn’t really want to make friends, people paid attention to us because we are somewhat good looking," Hongjoong says, and you can barely believe he called them 'somewhat' good-looking, "someone must have recognised us or started another rumour, that made us look like the bad boys, I guess. We could only play into the narrative."
"We know how to defend ourselves, there is no such thing as bullying in college, so we just carried on as we were." Yeosang adds on, “we were so focused on ourselves and school that we never noticed that you were right in front of us.”
"Then how did you find out it was me?"
“We had a feeling you wanted to come to this college.” Jongho explains, “you told us in high school this was your first choice.”
“You remember that?” You question, confused as to how they would remember such a small detail.
“One of the reasons we came to this college was in hopes of finding you.” Mingi adds, the tender expression of his face leaving your heart racing.
"Just when we thought you weren’t here, you appeared at the cafe where I work." Wooyoung explains, feeling it was his time to contribute, "I didn't recognise you at first, you have physically changed a lot." You furrow your eyebrows at the confession. That makes sense why he was still foreign to you when you were a frequent visitor those few months ago. Distantly recalling how Wooyoung seemed uninterested and never once spared a look in the eyes does explain as to why he would not recognise you.
"Then you appeared at The Treasure." Mingi speaks up, the anxious feeling slowly fading in his chest as he surveys the way you are positively taking information. “That’s when we knew it was you.”
You vaguely recall the name belonging to the brand-new bar near campus that you and Jisung frequently visited after its opening. You nod in recognition before Mingi continues speaking.
"That's our bar." He explains, and the statement makes your curiosity peak sky high.
"What do you mean?" 
"We opened the bar ourselves. with the help of Hongjoong's mother of course. It helps us make money for rent and tuition.” Jongho explains.
You find yourself utterly gobsmacked by the revelation that the young individuals have managed to run a successful small business. The sheer accomplishment of their entrepreneurial attempt impresses you greatly. Their determination and hard work shine through, leaving you in awe of what they have achieved at such a young age.
As the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, you begin to understand why there were nights when one or two of them would leave late and return in the early hours of the morning. It suddenly becomes clear that they were dedicating themselves to their business, putting in long hours and hard work to make it thrive.
The fact that they never shared this with you before now surprises you, but it also fills you with admiration for their humility and modesty. Despite their success, they remained humble and focused on maintaining their friendships and connections, not letting their achievements define them.
"So, you saw me there? If I have changed so much, how did you know it was me?" 
"I was the one who made your drinks for you and Jisung the first time you went." Mingi explains his job working as a bartender every so often. "I wasn't sure of it at first, yet I heard you laugh. I can recognise your laugh from anywhere.”
The sudden confession reaches your ears making your heart leap within your chest, causing it to race uncontrollably. The unexpected revelation catches you off guard, and you feel a rush of emotions coursing through you. Your cheeks flush, and the heat rises to your face, betraying the intensity of your feelings.
"We didn't know how to proceed though. We knew it was a risk to involve you back with us, given our reputation. but we just needed you back, in any way possible." Jongho speaks this time, his voice is hoarse, so much he has to clear his throat.
"In the creepiest way possible, we tried to find out some stuff about you." Yeosang explains. When you nod at them to continue, not worrying too much about them researching you.
“When we found out you were doing tutoring sessions, we decided to attend one to see if it was truly you.” San explains from by your side, his voice steady.
“Not all of us agreed to it at first,” Wooyoung adds, and you can feel him heavily indicating towards Yunho standing near him.
With a nod of understanding, you acknowledge his words.
“You didn’t actually need the sessions, did you?” you ask, being curious since the tutoring about how smart Jongho and San were. It didn’t make sense to you that they needed help with their studies.
“Not exactly,” San replies, and you can't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and amusement. His small smile and the playful tone in his voice create a lightness in the air, and a chuckle escapes your throat, relieving some of the tension that had built up.
“We don’t even take calculus.” Jongho says, almost laughing at his own confession.
The atmosphere around you begins to shift, transforming from the intensity of earlier moments to a more relaxed and enjoyable one. There's a sense of camaraderie in this shared moment of humour, a connection that goes beyond the weight of emotions that had been present before.
“I still don’t understand how I didn’t recognise you guys.”
"It could be the trauma." Yunho finally speaks after being silent for a while, the others look at him hoping he has a valid point to his argument. "Trauma has weird ways of messing with your mind. You went through months of psychological and emotional trauma back then, and they both have a possibility of resulting in memory loss. Your brain may have suppressed the memories as a protective mechanism to stop you from feeling the painful emotions associated with the traumatic events. Along with the belief of us being dead, your mind may have temporarily erased us from your memories in order to protect your well-being. When you saw Danny at the store it may have kick-started your memories." 
As Yunho provides the detailed explanation, you can't help but give him an awfully confused look. The level of knowledge and understanding he displays surprises you, leaving you curious about how he has acquired such specific information on such a subject.
He chuckles slightly before lifting his hand, "Psychology major." 
As you nod in understanding, you acknowledge that there are still gaps in your knowledge about the boys' lives, particularly when it comes to their academic pursuits. This realisation prompts you to feel a sense of curiosity and eagerness to learn more about their individual journeys and areas of interest.
Taking a deep breath, you gather your courage to address the question that has been bothering you since that day in the kitchen. You're aware that asking this question might reveal that you accidentally overheard their conversation, but you believe that open communication is essential for a strong and honest friendship.
With a hint of nervousness, you decide that it's best to be upfront and candid. You express your desire to clear the air and ask about the conversation you unintentionally walked in on last week. You assure them that you didn't mean to intrude, but you want to understand the context of what you heard to avoid any misunderstandings.
In this moment of vulnerability, you hope that they will appreciate your honesty and understand that your intentions were never to invade their privacy.
“Last week, before we went to the furniture store,” you pause, remembering the events that transpired that day.
Hongjoong notices the turmoil in your eyes and softly calls your name, grounding you in the moment. Encouraged by his support, you find the strength to ask the question that has been bothering you. His presence helps ease the tension, allowing you to speak openly and seek the answers you need.
“I didn’t intend to eavesdrop that morning, but on my way to the kitchen I heard you say you were offering me some sort of a proposition.”
Observing the reactions of the men around you, you can sense the weight of your question settling heavily upon them. Their breaths seem to catch, and their eyes widen with a mix of understanding and bewilderment. It becomes evident that the proposition you asked about holds more significance than you initially anticipated, catching them off guard and leaving them unsure of how to respond.
In the brief moment of silence, you notice the unspoken communication among them as they exchange glances. Even Hongjoong, known for his rock-solid composure, seems to falter, revealing the gravity of your question and the complexity of the emotions it has stirred within them.
It becomes clear that this is a topic that requires careful consideration and thought. They may not have expected such a direct inquiry, and it's apparent that they need time to process their feelings and find the right words to respond. As the weight of the situation lingers in the air, you remain patient, knowing that genuine and honest responses take time to formulate.
You watch as the attention gravitates again to Hongjoong, the seven other men silently begging him to give an explanation that doesn’t tear you away from them.
“That’s not really for now,” Hongjoong manages to say after clearing his throat.
"I don't want to pry or make anyone uncomfortable, but I'm quite curious about it. It seemed significant; I'd be grateful to know what it's about. To put my mind at ease.”
Hongjoong looks at his seven friends, briefly locking eyes with each of them, receiving a nod of acknowledgement and permission in return. However, when his gaze meets Yunho's, it lingers a moment longer, yet when accompanied by a reassuring smile he finally turns back to you, and to your relief, he continues with his explanation.
“We don’t want to lose you again.” He begins.
Upon the confession, your heart begins to race, and you find yourself engulfed in a flood of emotions. Love and attraction surge through you like a tidal wave, overwhelming your senses. It's a powerful and unexpected rush, leaving you momentarily breathless as you process the depth of your feelings.
Hongjoong continues speaking, “We have thought of many ways to keep you in our life, yet only two seemed reasonable.”
“What would those be?” You question, curiosity filling your entire being.
“We already did one of them,” Wooyoung says this time, “asking you to move in with us.”
Nodding, you process the information slowly in your mind before speaking, “and the other?”
“If you…” Hongjoong stumbles on his words, his voice shaky “we don’t want to lose you again.”
“Hongjoong.” Your voice is tender, trying to reach him and calm down the nerves he is suddenly feeling. “it’s okay.”
“If we asked you to be, like, with us. What would you say?” Seonghwa takes over for his friend. You hear breaths catch in the boy’s throats, a deep exhale from someone else upon hearing the words.
The sudden question hangs in the air and confusion swirls within you, accompanied by a storm of intrusive thoughts. You find yourself grappling with the idea that their feelings may extend beyond friendship, but your mind is quick to dismiss such a notion. You believe that they couldn't possibly mean it that way, that they must only see you as a friend.
The uncertainty weighs heavily on your heart, causing doubt and self-doubt to creep in. You begin to question your worth and wonder why anyone would see you in a romantic light. The belief that they couldn't feel the same way as you do takes hold, overshadowing any possibility of reciprocated feelings.
As the internal battle rages, you might feel a mix of emotions – confusion, fear, and a desire to protect yourself from potential disappointment. The idea of them seeing you as more than a friend feels like a dream, one that seems too far-fetched to be true.
“I am with you now. What do you mean?” You manage to say, pushing aside the ridiculous thoughts of being with just one of them.
Hongjoong takes in a deep breath before gaining his composure, he speaks with a strong voice, finding confidence in his words, “With us. You be ours; we be yours. We all belong to each other.”
With furrowed eyebrows, uncertainty clouds your mind as you contemplate his insinuations, questioning whether they align with the dreams you've harboured. The notion of any one of your friends reciprocating your feelings seems unlikely, let alone all of them. A rapid heartbeat betrays your inner turmoil, anxiety welling up within you. You fear this might be a cruel jest aimed at exploiting your emotions, and it leaves you vulnerable and on edge. Glancing around, you see the kind and tender gazes of the men around you, softening the edge to your sudden nerves.
“I don’t understand.”
“We understand it may sound strange, but we have talked about this a lot recently, four years ago too.” Seonghwa speaks, his voice its usual softness, “we have loved you, for years ___, all of us, we love each other, and now you are back in our lives we can’t bear to lose you again.”
The words of confession gently caress your ears, and a storm of emotions surge through you, causing your heart to beat impossibly fast. It's a whirlwind of feelings, as if your world is both crashing down and miraculously mending at the same time. The vulnerability in his voice makes the moment all the more precious, and you can't help but feel deeply moved.
The revelation that they reciprocate your feelings brings an overwhelming sense of euphoria, unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It's a blissful realisation that the men you admire so much, men so remarkably handsome, compassionate, and kind, could hold such deep affection for you. In this moment, you find yourself floating in a surreal dream, where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blur.
A rush of gratitude washes over you, grateful for the connection you share you’re your friends. Their presence in your life has always been a source of joy, but now it takes on a whole new level of significance. The bonds between you feel strengthened, as if destiny had woven its threads to bring you all together.
Yet, amid the euphoria, a tinge of disbelief lingers. You never imagined that the object of your admiration would harbour the same feelings for you. Doubt whispers at the edges of your mind, questioning if this could all be too good to be true. But as you glance into their eyes, sincerity and warmth reflected back at you, those doubts begin to fade like distant echoes.
“This isn’t a joke, right?”
Each of the men furrow their eyebrows, not believing you would ask such a thing.
“We would never joke about something like this, ___.” Wooyoung says, managing to finally find the words to contribute to the situation.
“You like, love me? You question, not being able to understand or grasp the circumstances unfolding in front of you, there’s no way that they would like you, right?
As each man nods once again, you can see the mixture of determination and fear in their eyes. They are desperate to convince you of the sincerity of their feelings, but at the same time, they are terrified of the possible rejection they might face from you. Their hearts are pounding with anxiety, unsure of what words you might say in response to their confessions.
In this moment, you realise the vulnerable position they have placed themselves in and the courage it took for them to open up to you. You understand the significance of your response and the potential impact it could have on your relationships with each of them.
“I’m sorry but, Yunho, I thought you hated me?” You point your question at the tall male who is now bright red in the face.
“I never hated you." he begins, looking down at his hands, "I was scared of letting you in again. All these years I thought the reason you left was because you believed the rumours.” He explains, embarrassed at himself for thinking in such a way when now it is evident there was another reason. He continues, “we can talk about it, us two, when you are ready. I deserve you a proper apology.” 
Yunho’s words hit you hard, along with the dejected expression on his face,  it makes it somewhat feel like he has already apologised. 
As you take in the emotions swirling around the room, you feel a sense of responsibility to handle this situation with care and honesty. The trust they have placed in you deserves to be honoured, regardless of the outcome.
“Would it not feel weird for you guys to have the same partner?”
“Yeosang and I have kind of done it before.” Yunho speaks once again, turning your attention to him, you see the pained expression lining his features, “it didn’t work out… but we want to try with you.”
Around you, you can feel the boy's expression lift, as if Yunho has given some sort of hidden permission. They are ecstatic that Yunho wants to try, after denying it so many times over the years. The fact Yeosang and Yunho were broken after the previous attempt, and they are still willing to try again with you leaves a profound impact on your heart. It's evident that their emotions run deep, and their commitment to giving it another shot speaks volumes about their feelings for you.
As you observe their vulnerability and dedication, you begin to entertain the possibility that they might genuinely love you. Their actions show that they are willing to invest in the relationship despite the challenges and uncertainties that may arise.
“There is no one we trust more than each other, and you.” Mingi adds, meaning to make you believe their true feelings.
“Can I think about it, please? It is quite a big decision.” You manage to say, desperately attempting to calm the raging thoughts racing through your mind.
Around you, you can sense an unmistakable trace of disappointment emanating from those around you. However, despite their apparent dismay, they make a concerted effort to conceal their emotions, evidently not wanting to burden you with any negative feelings. It doesn’t mean you have said no, yet they recognise that the answer may take a while to surface, leaving them on edge.
“Of course, take all the time you need.” Hongjoong says, smiling warmly at you, lifting the sudden tension, “dinner is at seven, please join us?”
Smiling back, you feel your heart lively, “I won’t miss it.”
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cheenapri · 2 months
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Transactional [Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader]
Day two + three
Summary: It is now day two (and three) of the trip and you are very adamant on ruining the experience; Illumi doesn’t take too kindly to that.
Word count: 14k
Notes: yandere, kidnapping, gender neutral reader, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics, mentions of past abuse, Illumi tweaks tf out, lots of arguing, reader is a huge brat and gets put in their place
Day one Day four + five
Taglist: @lilyalone @yamekocatt
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Something feels off.
You’re reluctant to leave your workplace once again, staring out the window and into the shadowy abyss before you. There were a few parked cars and the road was lit up with flickering street lights, making it look like something out of a horror movie. Those lights have been broken for some time now; they should really consider fixing those. 
You worked overtime again, wanting the extra funds so you could join your friends at an upcoming concert. You originally had no intentions of going, figuring it wasn’t worth it since you didn’t care for the artist too much. They kept hyping it up, however, eventually making you give in and start working extra hours in order to pay for the expensive tickets. 
You didn’t know the consequence of doing so would be encounters with crackheads after work. 
You bit your tongue. You shouldn’t have declined that ride from your coworker earlier, but you wanted to take a quick trip to the grocery store and didn’t wish to inconvenience them further. You did have your own car, but it was at the shop at the moment as something mysteriously damaged the engine and rendered it unable to start. This forced you to walk to and from work for the last week. You sigh, your hand hesitating for a moment before you pull on the door handle and step out into the crisp night. 
It’s rather quiet.
You cautiously look around before you begin speed walking; taking a brand new route despite how unconventional it was. Unfortunately, they always seem to find you no matter what.
Not even five minutes have passed before a taxi beeps and pulls up next to you, the driver’s movements stiff and puppet-like, his eyes vacant as he smiles creepily at you. 
“It’s d-dark out… n-n-need a ride?” his speech was somewhat slurred.
This was the fourth time this week a taxi had summoned itself, the driver attempting to coerce you to hop in. You glare at him, pace quickening even further as you look for a way out, your hand slowly gripping the switchblade hidden within your coat pocket. 
“It’s f-f-free of charge… just w-wanted to m-m-make sure you go-got h-home safe… You have s-s-someone waiting for you?” he says, still slurring. 
It was always the exact same stuttered lines: state that it’s dark, ask if you need a ride, state that it’s free of charge, pretend to be concerned about you, then ask if there’s someone waiting for you.
You felt as though you were in some sort of simulation; to say it freaked you out was an understatement. 
“I’m calling the police.” you say as you bring your phone out and dial the emergency service. If he were following the same script as the others, calling the police would cause him to drive off.
He doesn’t though, he must be going off script today. 
He lingers far longer than the others have, driving as slow as your quick walking speed, jittering and jerking the steering wheel to avoid running into parked cars, expression in an almost trance-like state as he keeps his smile. He doesn’t react to you telling the dispatcher about your current situation, slowing the taxi even further when you try to linger behind it in order to give them the license plate. 
“Do you h-have any… romantic interests?” he asks, the sheer audacity of this question caused your jaw to drop slightly. When you fail to answer in a timely manner, he keeps going. “W-What about exes? Do you… have any of those?”
You sneer at him once you finish giving his description and your current location to the operator. The person on the phone sounds a bit indifferent as they inform you that a police car is on the way and that you should try to move to a more populated area. 
“You live alone… d-don’t you?” 
You hadn’t even realized he was still talking. 
“Fuck off!” you shout at him, tightening your grip on the switchblade. You were beyond tired of dealing with these creeps. What did they want with you? You glare at him, eyes catching the gold piercing on the left side of his head — a strange place for a piercing.
Right as you were getting ready to bolt, a cop car suddenly pulled up; it’s red and blue lights causing the taxi to speed off into the night. It came unnaturally quick, but you didn’t think about that fact. You were already frantically recounting what had just happened before the male officer could even get out of the car, clearly distressed and completely forgetting about the dispatcher still on the phone. They soon hang up when the officer informs them through his radio that he’s arrived.  
He took your statement after calming you down and offered to give you a ride to the grocery store as you were still insistent on going. Your heart rate slowed once you reached the safety of the store, the presence of other, hopefully normal, people gave you a sense of relief. Rubbing your temples as you enter the store, you take your time gathering your items, picking up a few extra snacks to help relieve your stress. 
You call an Uber to pick you up as you don't want to walk home anymore, the driver was a kind older woman who advised you against being out so late despite its hypocrisy. You rushed inside once you reached home, your dog greeting you with a wiggly dance and tappy paws.
Something still felt off. 
You won’t be working overtime anymore, you’d have to cancel those concert plans. You sigh as you kick off your shoes and place your purchases on the counter. 
Your dog whines.
You walk over to the back door and open it, watching as they cautiously step out and quickly relieve themself before practically running back in, their fur standing on edge.
“What’s wrong?” you ask as you crouch down to pet them, trying to soothe them of their worries as well as your own. Your paranoia made you think the taxi driver was out there.
They only whined again, large eyes staring at you before darting to the living room window, their tail no longer wagging. You stand up and go to wash your hands, hoping they’re just hearing the neighbor or some critter of the night passing by.
You make dinner, giving yourself and your pup something gracious to comfort the both of you before starting your nightly routine. 
Your dog is growling at something. 
You step out of the bathroom and head downstairs, confusion on your face as you watch them pace back and forth from the living room window to the kitchen window.
You head to the back door, hoping letting them out to investigate would calm their nerves. Opening the door only seemed to make it worse, however, as they began barking, tail tucked between their legs as they backed away from you. 
Concerned, you decide to call the police again. You’d been calling them since your second encounter with the taxi drivers, your fears never being dealt with, the officers doing nothing but telling you that they’ll “take your statement and check for the taxi around the neighborhood” and to “call back if something happens.”
You’ll be found dead if this keeps up.
A female officer and her male partner arrive and you immediately explain your earlier encounter, telling them about the weird questions you’d been asked, the driver trailing you for a whole block, and the other police officer taking your statement. 
“Could you check around my house? My dog has been on edge since I got home and I’m afraid he followed me here.” you plead, not sure you’d be able to sleep tonight if they didn’t give you a peace of mind. 
They agree to check, leaving you anxiously waiting by the front door with your pup by your side. After a few minutes, you faintly hear a slight commotion, causing your heart to drop and your dog to bark. 
You continue to stand there, unsure of what to do. After a few more moments, the doorbell rings. You’re slow to open it, only sighing in relief when you see it’s the officers once again. They appear to be fine, though they look sluggish all of a sudden. The female officer informs you that it was just a raccoon hiding within the old grill out back, her words slurring and her eyes droopy.
“Oh?” you nervously chuckle, eyebrows wrinkled with worry. “Was that all?”
“Yeah… it was j-just a biggg raccoon… We’ll take your s-statement and ch-check for taxis around the n-n-neighborhood… C-Call back… if something… happens.”
There goes that exact same line again. As they slowly turn around and begin to leave, something within the female police officer’s hair reflects the porch light for the briefest of moments. You’re confused and shut the door immediately. Your hands are on your hips as you look down at your dog, worry still on your face. You let out a huff, choosing to return to your nightly routine as there wasn’t much else you could really do right now. 
Your dog has quieted down as the night progressed, much to your relief. They haven’t barked for a few hours now and slept peacefully at your feet in the living room. You’ve been talking with your friends, getting their advice about the whole situation and agreeing that you needed to find a better place to live. You hang up the call after a while and look down at the fuzzy creature by your feet. You give them one final pat before heading off to your bedroom upstairs, turning off the lights as you make your way up. 
You leave your bedroom door slightly cracked in case your dog chooses to come up and sleep on your rug. You glance over at the window — the moonlight seeps into the room, perfectly illuminating your face. 
It’s rather quiet.
You don’t know how long you’ve spent laying in bed, scaring yourself as you think about today’s   events, but you eventually fall asleep. Maybe tomorrow you could start looking for a new place to live. 
Something feels off.
You’re awoken, a bit groggy as you wipe your eyes. It’s still dark outside. How long were you asleep for? You give your eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, turning over on your right side.
Your heart jumps into your throat, all traces of tiredness instantly leave your body as you stare up in horror at the featureless, black figure standing next to your bed. 
“Don’t scream and I won’t kill you.” it warns.
Your breath hitches, you couldn’t scream even if you wanted to. What the hell is that? You scoot away from it, nearly falling off the bed in the process. 
You swallow hard, “What are yo-“
“Be quiet.” its voice was low and smooth, a complete contradiction from its appearance. “You really love making my job harder, don’t you? Why couldn’t you just get in the car the first time, hm?”
You don’t answer. Your heart was beating rapidly. You can’t read its expression, all you see is it’s big, black eyes looking down at you. You couldn’t make out any attributes of the figure, it was like one big, black blur in an almost humanoid shape. 
A few moments of silence pass as it simply stares at you, as if thinking about something, the room slowly filling with a black mist. Your eyes quickly dart to your bedroom window then back at the monstrous entity. Maybe if you’re fast enough, you could jump out the window-
“Don’t even think about it.” it takes a single step toward you. “Things will go much smoother for you if you come with me willingly. If you so choose to be obnoxious, however, I will knock you out. You have five seconds to decide what you’ll do.”
“Y-you better leave this house right now, or else I’ll call the police!” your stuttering foiled your already awful bluff. It was close enough to do whatever it wanted to you before you could even reach for your phone. What the hell was the police supposed to do about this thing anyway?
It only tilts its head, large eyes staring eerily at you. After a few moments of silence, it finally spoke, “Very well.”
You scream as it charges at you, blacking out instantly as the black mist completely engulfs the room.
.
.
.
You scream and flail your arms as if you were being attacked, eyes shooting wide open in the process. Your breathing is heavy like you’d just ran a marathon; sweat beads form on your forehead. It takes a couple seconds for you to calm down, coming to the realization that it was only a nightmare. 
A nightmare regarding a memory rather.
Your breath is shaky as you sit up on your elbow, leaning over the side of the bed. You felt nauseous, anxiety bubbling within you as you tried to control it. You look up towards the bathroom door, then towards the TV in front of the bed, then finally towards the man sitting upright behind you.
Looks like you’re still in a nightmare.
You let out a frustrated groan, throwing yourself back onto the bed and covering your face with your hands. In your daze, you had forgotten where you were, only to be harshly reminded upon locking eyes with Illumi. 
“Good morning.” Illumi starts with his typical flat tone, observant of your quick shift from disorientation to exasperation. “Are you comfortable?”
“In a way.” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to fall back asleep. You didn’t feel like having to deal with him first thing in the morning. 
He continues regardless, “You sound uncertain.”
“The bed is comfortable, yes.” you mumble yet again.
“But there is something you’re uncomfortable with, right?”
It’s him.
You let out another groan as you knew he’d keep questioning you, wanting you to explain all of your answers in explicit detail while not understanding your point behind them. You take a second to stretch before propping yourself up on your elbow once again and looking back at him.
You were skeptical about this unusual attitude of his, thinking it was a new manipulation tactic he’d randomly thought of trying. You’re curious as to how long he’d let you push him over, though.
“Were you watching me sleep all night?” you ask. Your tone hinted at a bit of annoyance which caused Illumi to tilt his head slightly.
He admits casually, “Yeah.” 
If there’s one thing you appreciated about Illumi, it was his honesty. His ability to nonchalantly admit to anything he was willing to answer both amazed and frightened you. 
“No wonder I had a nightmare.” you say, looking away from him. It took everything in you to say something so blunt, so confidently. 
Illumi doesn’t respond, confused by your sudden shift in attitude. You’d just woken up and you were already trying his patience. He keeps his attention on you, watching as you throw the blankets off and slide out of bed. You stretch yet again, back turned to him as you do so. 
“I’m hungry.” you state in an almost entitled tone.
“I’ll tell them to begin preparing breakfast now. You should freshen up in the meantime.” 
You take a deep breath. “Are you dictating what outfit I’m wearing today as well?”
Again, Illumi doesn’t respond — you turn to look when you hear the bed creak, a tad bit worried he was on his way to rip your head off. You knew you wouldn’t even have time to react if he was, though. 
He slowly walks to the wardrobe, shuffling through it for a moment before retrieving an outfit. You notice that he’s already dressed, he must’ve gotten ready while you were sleeping then hopped back into bed so he could continue staring at you.
What a creep.
The outfit was catered to your taste, but it clearly had a touch of his inspiration written on it from how… tight fitting… it appeared to be. You look at the outfit with disdain, allowing your facial features to tell him just how you felt about it. 
He’s indifferent to your scornful look, however, only staring back as he waits for you to take the outfit. He wasn’t changing his mind about this. You’re reluctant but you snatch the clothes from him, nearly stomping into the bathroom. 
The outfit turned out to be more tight fitting than you had anticipated. You hate him. 
You eventually come out of the bathroom, ignoring the way Illumi’s head immediately turned in your direction, and move to sit on the lounge chair.
He was on the phone, presumably calling the butlers to prepare today’s events — eyes still lingering on you as he spoke with them. He hangs up after a minute, fully turning to look at you. 
“That outfit looks great on you.”
You look away from him, eyebrows furrowed. “It doesn’t need to be so snug.”
“It suits you.”
“Of course YOU like it.” you roll your eyes at him, quickly getting tired of his ogling.
He takes a moment to eye you further before speaking, “Let’s go.”
You follow him out of the room and down the hall, that surreal feeling from last night returning once again. As you walk into the main section of the hotel, you instantly notice a huge lack of butlers. 
“Where did everyone go?” you ask, still looking around for other souls. 
“I told them to stay out of view since you have a tendency to stare.” he simply states, staring forward as he leads you down the halls.
You scoff at him. If anyone had a tendency to stare, it was him since his unblinking eyes never seemed to leave you. It was perspicuous that he didn’t want last night’s dinner experience to take place again, only wanting your attention on him and him only. 
“You know,” you suddenly speak up, voice a bit louder than usual, “If you truly want my opinion on things, l'd say you’re failing in terms of atmosphere. It's not normal for a place as busy as a hotel or a restaurant to be so devoid of other people, it makes it feel as though you and I are having a standoff.”
Illumi doesn’t acknowledge your comment right away, only continuing to stare forward as he attempts to process your audacious attitude. You already knew why he was doing it like this: he wanted to keep you away from what he deemed as “distractions.” you were smart enough to recognize and deflect his manipulative tactics to the best of your ability, which is how you’ve managed to retain your sanity for this long. 
You know he loves you — obsessed rather — although incapable of expressing it in a healthy manner. He arrogantly assumed you'd reciprocate the feeling with time and some gentle conditioning, but you never did out of spite, preventing yourself from falling for him as a way of fighting back. Not that you could fall for him anyway. He was far too rough with you, especially when he first brought you to the estate. He didn’t know how to handle someone so fragile, breaking your wrist when you swung on him and crushing your throat when you cursed at him. 
It took a while before you found out why he’d taken you, connecting the dots when he casually mentioned one day that he felt drawn to you before summarizing the five months he spent stalking you. He referred to you as his spouse once, but you were more of an experiment to him in the beginning, his feelings towards you cementing as time went on, confirming to him that he was indeed in love with you. You took advantage of that to the best of your ability, enticing him occasionally, giving him a false sense of your affections when you really wanted to avoid punishment, even if it didn’t always work out in your favor. 
“You’ve woken up in a bad mood, you’re just being grumpy.” Illumi finally responds.
“I’m not being grumpy. You may be used to being alone, but I’m not. For me, the lack of people takes away from the experience, it makes it hard to focus.”
Illumi swiftly glanced down at you before looking forward again, expression remaining neutral. You were dancing around the subject, hiding your true intentions under the guise of helping him improve the atmosphere. 
“I see, but I don’t think exposing you to the public would be ideal.”
“Ideal for yo-”
“Ideal for us.” he corrected, putting emphasis on the word “us.” 
Your attempts at persuading him into taking you somewhere more public wasn’t working, in fact, you were only succeeding in annoying him. Perhaps you were being too ambitious right now. 
“Surely not.” you mumble mainly to yourself, folding your arms as the two of you continue to make your way through the hotel. 
You reach the restaurant and sit at the same table, last night’s rose petals and candles still present. The butlers were nowhere in sight and there was a partition put up to block your view of the chefs. The glass wall was also covered with a thin drape, allowing light in but not see-through enough to give you a clear view of the people below.
Pay attention to him. 
“So uh,” you begin, feeling awkward as you try to get used to his direct staring once again, “what are we doing today?”
“We’re doing what I’ve planned.” Illumi states, not elaborating.
You attempt to pry for more details. “Could you be more specific?” 
“No.”
What a jerk. 
Despite the day just starting, the two of you were already getting on each other’s nerves. Since you can’t look out the window to distract yourself, you ultimately decided you would interrogate him in an attempt to fully understand the situation you were in. 
You take a long, deep breath before speaking. “You know,” you start, looking directly into his eyes, “I’m curious to know what made you decide to do all of this, did you watch some cheesy romance movie or did someone give you the idea?”
After a few moments of silence, Illumi slowly blinks at you. This was the first time you’ve seen him blink, mainly because you tend to avoid eye contact with him. He was caught off guard by how you directly questioned him, your bold confidence as interesting as it was concerning. 
“I was not inspired by anything. This is a simple product of my own ideas.” he stated, eyebrows slightly raised.
That’s doubtful, though you knew he wasn’t lying. 
“I see… men in romance movies typically don’t kidnap their partner, it was foolish of me to think you’d be inspired by that. Perhaps you were inspired by a horror movie?” it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact as you spoke, trying your best not to react to his silent indicators screaming at you to shut your mouth. You’d already dug yourself a hole, however, may as well keep digging. “Tell me, what inspired you?”
He’s glaring at you now, slight but noticeable. 
“Like I said, there’s no outside inspiration. I chose to do things this way on my own volition.”
“And that’s exactly why I described it as the ‘typical Illumi experience.’ it’s empty, devoid of life, and unnerving.” you say boldly.
His glare disappears, his neutral expression returning as he slowly tilts his head to the side. 
“‘Empty, devoid of life, and unnerving,’” he repeats slowly, “quite a descriptive set of words. Is it truly that way for you?”
“Yeah, I thought I made that clear by now.”
He straightened himself, blinking slowly once again. “It’s unfortunate to hear you see it that way.” 
His voice feigned politeness, turning his attention to the food now being brought to the table. The presence of the butlers doesn’t stop you from retorting, however.
“I gave you a clear solution to help you improve but since you’re so focused on isolating me, you won’t hear it.” you narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t respond until the butlers have left the room entirely. 
“Is your solution to see other people?” he finally responds in an almost sarcastic tone.
You hated the way he worded that. 
“Yes, the place is empty.”
“It’s not empty, we’re here.”
“We are two people.”
“The butlers and hotel staff are here.”
“Paying guests,” you were becoming annoyed with his intentional stupidity. “people from all walks of life who just want to enjoy some time at the hotel with us. You know what I meant.”
“You should eat before it gets cold.” he looks down, picking up a fork and beginning his unnatural eating habits. You don’t heed his indirect warning to drop the subject, however. 
You continue, “Tell me why you won’t.” 
He doesn’t even look up at you, pretending you hadn’t even said a word.
You speak again, determined to keep going until he gives you an answer. “Give me a reason.” 
“Drop it.” he replies after finishing his plate.
“I won’t until you give me a reason!”
“The reason I chose not to have people here should be evident.”
“And it should be evident as to why your little date with me is a waste of time! You refuse to listen to me at all!”
Illumi is silent. He didn’t like your tone. Your words got to him more than it should and he couldn’t understand why. He was doing everything he could to make this date go smoothly and you were doing everything you could to make sure it wouldn’t.
He didn’t like how aware you were — how aware of him you were. You should have given into Stockholm syndrome months ago, yet here you were forcing him to actually try to earn your affections. Him. A professional assassin who was raised for the sole purpose of killing, whose soul was filled with nothing but darkness. You had made it clear that he could rip you away from your past life, torment you, and force you to go out with him, but he couldn’t force you to love him. Genuinely at least.
Illumi wondered if he should even continue trying…
No. He’d put too much effort into this to call it off. You were just looking for a reaction, that’s it. 
The thought that you wouldn’t be resentful had he taken a healthier approach to your relationship does not cross his mind. In fact, his mind is clear as he gazes upon you, no emotion present on his features. 
You slowly began to eat once it was apparent the topic wasn’t up for discussion anymore. At least the food was good, even if it failed to distract you from the near deadly tension in the air. His presence felt more suffocating than normal, though he wasn’t releasing aura, causing you to quickly eat just so you could get out of here sooner.
He makes no move to stand nor does he speak once you finish, making you awkwardly sit before him a little longer. This was your fault. You should’ve just shut your mouth. The effects of his staring was taking its toll on you the longer you sat there. 
“What’s the plan? Are we going back to Kukuroo Mountain now?” you ask. As much as you hate being in that room, you’d prefer your solidarity over this.
Illumi doesn’t reply, only turning his head slightly before standing and beginning to walk out of the restaurant. He didn’t feel the need to explain anything to you, leaving you to figure it out through his actions. You considered staying seated, but ultimately got up to follow him, knowing that’s what he expected of you. 
You trail slightly behind him as he leads you out of the hotel and into the parking lot, a black Mercedes truck parked just outside the entrance. He opens the passenger side door and just looks at you, not even bothering to give you a verbal command or even a gesture. You stare at him for a moment, wanting to irritate him, before climbing inside and buckling yourself up. 
You stare at the hotel as he walks around and hops into the driver’s seat. He soon begins driving. He appears to have a destination in mind, not Kukuroo Mountain as he’s driving opposite of when you were first taken to the hotel. 
He’s not a quitter, unfortunately. 
He was taking you to a grand mall, one he, of course, cleared out. He still wanted to please you despite your earlier ungratefulness, or so he convinced himself.
The ride was soundless. He chose not to turn on the radio. His eyes unmoving as he stared straight ahead, left hand on the wheel while his right hand sat dangerously close to you on the armrest. 
There were a few more Mercedes trucks within the mall’s parking lot; you could see there were butlers inside as Illumi drove past them, the pink haired butler from yesterday making direct eye contact with you through the windshield of her car. He parked, glancing at you for a brief moment before moving to open the driver’s door. 
He climbed out of the car while you stayed put, you watched as he circled around the front to come open your door. You wished the car had magically started itself and ran him over. You take your time unbuckling yourself, sighing before taking his hand as he “assisted” you out of the truck. 
He led you inside the mall, stopping once you reached the middle of the food court. It was completely empty, just as you’d guessed. You look around as he stands there, staring down at you. Your uncomfortableness is evident as you awkwardly shift your weight and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. 
“You’re free to begin shopping.” Illumi finally stated, giving you the go ahead. 
You gave a quiet “oh” before looking ahead, hesitant to take a step. You genuinely didn’t even feel like moving, not wanting to participate in his plan to keep the date going. Eventually you begin walking, figuring since you were here, you’d get some stuff to entertain yourself with back at the estate. You felt no interest in visiting clothing or jewelry stores considering Illumi would police when you wore whatever you got.
“This is so ominous.” you mumble, hands in your pockets as you walk through the food court and into the main shopping section of the mall. You were curious to know how Illumi did it, how he was able to almost completely clear out all of these places. Did he strike a deal with the owner? Did he kill them and take over the place? You turn towards Illumi, “How come all these big places are so empty? What did you do?”
“Does it matter?” his response was quicker than you’d anticipated. He didn’t appear to be upset though, maybe you could pry some details out of him.
“Did you kill the owner or something?” you look back at him as you’re trailing ahead slightly, his eyes meet yours for a moment before looking forward again.
“That would’ve been the cheapest route, but no.” Illumi admits. “I didn’t kill them.”
“So what did you do?”
Illumi is silent for a moment, as if contemplating something. He then says, “I rented the place for a period of time.”
“You rented this entire mall?!”
“I did. For two hours to be exact, so make the most of it.”
He chose to humor your questions. Good.
Your pace is slow as you walk, taking note of how certain stores were closed down. The accessible stores contained a couple butlers and a store clerk, the butlers standing directly in front of the checkout as if trying to block your view of the clerk. You continue to peer inside but make no effort to actually enter any of the stores. 
You tried to the best of your ability to ignore Illumi’s looming presence behind you, finally entering a store that caught your eye. It was a store that sold adult craft projects ranging from diamond art, to crochet, to even DIY houses similar to the greenhouse you had. 
You quickly look around. You felt invisible, but under a microscope at the same time. The clerk looking down from what you could see of them, the butlers occasionally glancing at you with their stoic expressions but ignored your presence for the most part, and, of course, Illumi gazing directly into your soul. Examining a diamond art kit, you check the price tag out of habit.
“You shouldn’t worry about the tags.” Illumi’s voice scared you a bit despite how gentle it was. 
He’s right. You shouldn’t worry about the price tags. 
You grab as much as you can hold, almost considering buying out the entire store, but not wanting to be questioned as to why you wanted ten of the exact same craft. 
As you approach the checkout with the items in hand, the two butlers gently take them from you and proceed to purchase on your behalf.
You stand and stare at them while they do their job, Illumi placing a hand on your shoulder and nudging you back, “You don’t have to wait for them to finish.” Illumi spoke as he watched the butlers. “We can go to the next store now.” 
You don’t respond to him, side stepping out of his hold and walking out of the store. As you enter a video game store, you purchase, or rather the butlers purchased, several games, most of which you’ll probably never even play but interests you enough to grab. You’ve kept your back turned towards Illumi the whole time, a privilege only a select few could enjoy, wanting to keep him out of your line of sight as much as possible. 
“You’re acting strange.” he stated as he followed you out of the store, “Is something wrong?”
“I’m just trying to enjoy myself.” you said, head lowered as you walked.
“You’re deliberately avoiding me.”
You stare down at your feet for a few moments before responding, “You're like an entity that only I can see whose sole purpose is to haunt me.” your tone was indifferent as you continued to stare down, an echo accompanying your footsteps while silence accompanied his own. “I feel like you're not even real and I’m just hallucinating.”
Illumi didn’t understand what it was you were talking about, and neither did you really, his eyebrows slightly raised as he fully turned his head to face you. 
“I’m very much real.”
“That’s the issue.” you close your eyes for a moment, swallowing hard. Which was truly better? A real person tormenting you or a hallucination tormenting you? Illumi had no words for your comment — he turned to face forward again, eyes leaving you for much longer than they ever had since you entered the mall. “I don’t even know why you’re dragging this out, it was doomed from the start.”
He’s quick to respond, “Was it? Or are you just intent on being difficult?”
You can sense a ping of his aura, causing you not to respond further. You stop walking, you’re now at the far end of the mall standing next to the escalators. You watch the moving stairs for a bit before looking up into the skylight. 
The slight humming of the escalator was strangely comforting — the sun shone perfectly down upon you, bathing you in a warm light. You looked down at your feet once more; you felt like crying. The nostalgic feelings you were trying desperately to repress were becoming too much to bear. 
Illumi watches, studying your strange behavior as you stand there with your eyes closed.
“What are you doing?” Illumi asked after watching you for almost a full minute. 
You consider ignoring him, but you can still sense him releasing the tiniest amount of aura.
“A skylight in my room would be nice.” 
“Your room is underground.” Illumi stated matter-of-factly. His response was quick, almost as if he’d predicted you’d say something like that.
“You’re more than capable of giving me a room above ground then installing a skylight.”
“I am.” he gave you a subtle side eye. He indeed had more than enough funds to make your new room, he just didn’t like the thought of giving you one. He assumed it would give you ideas, ideas he didn’t want to have to severely punish you for. 
“So do it.” you open your eyes and look at him, meeting his black, empty ones. 
“Your current room is sufficient enough.” he retorts.
“I like natural light, Illumi.” 
His aura is no longer present, his shoulders dropped slightly. He continued nonetheless, “You can survive without sunlight.”
He won't budge on your request. He saw nothing wrong with keeping you in a windowless room and having you take vitamin D supplements. This was normal to him after all. 
“Anytime I request something that would genuinely make me happy, you dismiss it immediately.”
“Your requests tend to be quite ridiculous.”
“But renting a mall isn’t?!” your voice was getting loud, you were frustrated with him. “You’d rather spend all that extra money on bullshit than something that would actually make me happy?!” 
“This date was supposed to make you happy. In fact, everything I do is for your well-being.” Illumi spoke slowly, making sure to look you dead in the eyes as he said this.
Despite your outburst, Illumi remained stoic. Not a trace of annoyance or even irritation within him, he was completely neutral.
Deep breath in, hold it, breathe out slowly.
You turn on your heel, walking past him and back towards the food court. You stop near the exit doors, peering out the glass and into the parking lot. 
“I’m done shopping.” you were beyond finished with this. 
You wish he never came up with this pathetic little date idea and just left you back at the estate. You hated the constant mind battles between the two of you; you were mentally exhausted and just wanted time away from him to reset, preferably the rest of your life. 
“We’ve been here for thirty-five minutes. We have about another hour and twenty-five minutes to shop.” he says casually. You don’t respond, only glaring at him before looking out into the parking lot once again. His eyes continue to linger on you. “You should shop some more.”
It was clear it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. 
“Save your money-” you attempt to argue, but he cuts you off.
“Don’t worry about my money. I’m telling you to continue shopping.” he spoke, signaling he was slowly becoming a bit irritated despite his very, very calm expression. 
“I already got what I wanted.” you glare at him again.
You knew exactly what you were doing. You were intentionally rushing so you could leave sooner and waste the money he’d used to rent the mall.
He was aware of this. 
“Do you not know how to enjoy yourself at a mall? I’m giving you a great privilege here.”
“It’s hard to enjoy a mall under these circumstances.”
“You’re just being difficult.” Illumi retorted, trying to make it seem as if your unhappiness was your own cause. 
“That’s NOT-”
“Watch your tone.” his voice sounded menacing, causing you to shut your mouth immediately.
His aura returned, his patience was running thin. You’re quiet for a moment, glancing out into the parking lot and daringly taking another step towards the doors.
“Can…” your voice is low as you speak, “can we just go back to Kukuroo-“
“Let’s continue shopping.” Illumi cuts you off once again.
You’re not daring enough to take another step, let alone actually make your way through those doors, as much as you want to. You continue to stand there despite Illumi’s request. Would you even be able to open the door before he grabbed you?
Your question was unfortunately answered when he moved swiftly and stood directly in front of you, basically teleporting before you. He cupped your face just as fast in a firm, almost tight hold, forcing you to look up at him. His hands were surprisingly warm.
“(Name).” he’d drawn out your name in a sickeningly soft tone, his eyes failing to match the gentleness of his voice. It was a sight you didn’t want to behold. You step back, to which he lets go, and turn to proceed back into the main shopping section. His eyes linger on you before he clapped his hands together once, all traces of aura instantly vanishing. “I’m glad you’ve decided to enjoy this experience further, (Name).” his voice was still soft, almost cheerful as he followed close behind you. 
Your heart is still beating rapidly as you walk through the mall, slowly taking your time exploring each of the stores. You don’t buy anything though, you were simply staring at the merchandise as if they were artifacts in a museum. Illumi starts pointing out things you’d like, or rather things he’d like on you, when you fail to make a purchase after the third store. 
Only an hour remaining.
You began staring at items for far too long, attempting to shave off as much time as possible, ignoring Illumi when he asked if it was something you wanted. He bought them anyway so it didn’t matter. He began purchasing anything you stared at, annoyed but not commenting on your stubborn attitude.
Only thirty minutes remaining.
As you walk the halls, you choose to stop and examine a statue you’ve passed at least three times. Illumi stands awfully close to you.
“You’re testing my patience, (Name).” he says. You don’t feel his aura, thankfully, but you knew you were pushing him too far.
“I don’t know what you want-”
“You know exactly what I want.” he slowly brought his hand to rest on your shoulder. You don’t sense any hints of mischief behind it, but you knew better than to trust it. “I thought this would’ve been a nice way for us to bond, but, of course, you’re obstinate.”
“Bond?” you ask, voice somewhat soft from the threat of his hand on you.
“Yes.”
“How?” you asked. Despite being held captive for months, you still fail to fully understand how Illumi thinks. You can feel his grip on you tighten slightly before resting once again.
“We bond whenever we are with each other, that’s how it works.”
You’re too tired to correct him, not that he’d understand anyway. “Tell me,” you start, “what is the purpose of this, Illumi?”
“This is the second time you’ve asked me this.”
“You never answered why you’re doing this, you only stated you weren’t inspired by anything and chose to do this on your own free will. I’m asking you why you’re doing this.”
Illumi is quiet for a few seconds before responding, “I wanted to spend time with you, that’s all.”
“Really?” you questioned.
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” you brought your hand up to your chin, trying to think of a possible ulterior motive. There was definitely more to this, but you couldn’t think of what it was. 
Only twenty-seven minutes remaining. 
“We don’t have much time left here. I believe it would be wise for you to do what I expect of you.” Illumi states as he removes his hand from your shoulder.
You go along with it, just wanting to get it over without being overwhelmed by Illumi. 
One minute remaining.
You half assed the last twenty-six minutes of shopping, but it was good enough for Illumi. He didn’t complain, or speak at all really, as he watched you hand the butlers random items you’ve picked up.
Once that was done, he led you outside and back into the truck, a weight being lifted off your shoulders when you felt the wind blow against your skin.
You didn’t bother asking him about the next location, knowing he wouldn’t tell you. He put on some music this time; he must be feeling better. 
Your tiredness instantly evaporated once you realized he was driving into the city, other Zoldyck trucks joining and forming a motorcade around the two of you. 
The car comes to a stop on an empty street, your eyes scan the butlers standing guard, locking on the pink haired one for a split second, before moving to the blockades blocking off side streets. Illumi does his chivalry deed before walking you towards the bus stop. 
Your head doesn’t stop swiveling, turning towards the buildings, to the lake, to the butlers, to the birds pecking at the ground, to the approaching bus. 
“Is this a tour bus?” you ask, instantly recognizing it as you’d been on one with your friends before. 
“Yes.” he responds flatly. 
As the bus pulls up, you get a good look at it. It was a big, red double decker bus, the windows a little too tinted to be legally owned by any company. You’re a little quick to climb inside once the doors open, it was empty aside from two butlers seated at the very back.
“Can we sit on the roof?” you ask, wanting to feel the breeze on your face but also wanting a vantage point to scout for other signs of life. 
“No. Sit here.” 
Illumi doesn’t offer any reasoning, only pointing to a row of seats on the right side of the bus. You take the window seat and Illumi sits next to you, caging you in.
Perhaps you should’ve let him take the window seat instead.
There’s a screen in front of you playing a pre recorded audio commentary as the ride begins, it was the only voice heard within the bus. Your heart sinks a little when you see people walking about and civilian cars waiting at intersections. It was a normal day for them. 
You look forward, then behind you, ignoring Illumi and the butlers’ curious eyes, as you confirm that the bus indeed was part of another motorcade. You slump slightly, looking out the window and at the curious faces of pedestrians completely unaware of what was going on. 
You had barely caught anything the audio commentary had explained about the various landmarks you’d passed, too busy reminiscing on past times to even care. The bus had done a full loop around the city, soon coming to a halt at the bus stop it picked you up from. 
Instead of walking you back to the truck, Illumi holds your hand, correctly this time as he didn’t give you time to freak out, and walks you to a nearby grassy area along the lakefront. His hold was a little tight.
There was a large blanket set out underneath a lone cherry blossom tree, Shiori setting down a singular basket, bowing to the both of you, then leaving. 
You both settled onto the blanket, Illumi sitting unreasonably close despite the vast amounts of space. You allowed yourself to relax a bit regardless, taking in the view of the lake mixed with the falling cherry blossom petals. You paid no mind to Illumi as he fumbled through the basket, using hand sanitizer but not offering you any.
He carefully unpacked the contents, laying out a meal too small to be enjoyed by two people. You silently glance over at it before looking forward again. The view was nice, various skyscrapers and buildings lined the horizon, and a few clouds decorated the big, blue sky. 
It was silent, you and Illumi haven’t spoken to each other since you got on the bus — it was better that way. Illumi savored your docile demeanor, content that you were finally relaxing around him for once. He wasn’t fixated on you surprisingly, only gazing upon the city view before him.
You’d sat there for about ten minutes, relaxing enough to shut your eyes as you envisioned yourself in another place, before Illumi finally spoke up, “Aren’t you going to eat something?”
You slowly opened your eyes, looking at the mini meal sprawled out on the blanket, then at the fork Illumi held tightly before closing them again. 
“No.” you said simply. This was a trap.
Illumi tilted his head as he looked at you. “Why not?” 
“Why aren’t you eating?” you question him instead. “You’ve been holding that fork for a while now, and yet you haven’t reached for anything.”
You were suspicious. This was a one person meal and Illumi was holding the only fork you could see yet made no move to use it. This could only mean one thing.
“This is for you. I’m not hungry.”
You sit upright. “Where are all the forks?”
“In my hand.” he stated nonchalantly. “What would you like to eat first?”
You were becoming nervous. “Just give me the fork.” you state, holding your hand out to him. 
“What would you like to eat first?” he repeats, looking down at the options before him and ignoring your hand.
“Please don’t do this to me.”
“You will eat the chicken Alfredo first.”
You retract your hand as he reaches for the chicken Alfredo, opening the container and allowing its savory scent to escape. You watch in horror as he collects a few noodles onto the fork and holds it up to you. 
His intentions were clear; he was going to feed you.
“I can feed myself.” 
“I know. Open your mouth.”
“Illumi-“
The fork was shoved into your mouth, the prongs hitting the back of your throat and causing you to choke. You cover your mouth when he pulls the fork out, coughing through your nose as you collect yourself from the sudden assault. At least the chicken Alfredo was good. 
“Hopefully you’ll listen this time. Come.” 
He scooped more noodles and chicken onto the fork, holding it out to you again. You glare at him before complying, allowing him to feed you gently this time. The cycle continues until the entire meal is gone, leaving only empty containers. 
He didn't say anything else once he was finished, but you noticed a slight smile on his otherwise expressionless face. He was happy. Very, very happy. 
Both of you sit in silence for a while, Illumi enjoying your presence and you ignoring his. Eventually he stands up, motioning for you to follow. He leads you back to the truck, performing an unneeded act of chivalry as he helps you inside, before pulling onto the road, the same Mercedes trucks driven by Zoldyck butlers surrounding the vehicle once more.
Illumi had one more activity planned for the day, one he was sure you’d love: a botanical garden. He had a slight smile on his face as he drove, eyes never leaving the road but he was definitely paying close attention to you. 
It took a short while, but he eventually reached his destination, quickly helping you out of the car before guiding you through the gates and into the garden. He seemed quite eager. The garden was huge, so he expected the both of you to be there for at least two hours, walking and analyzing all the different plants.
You were partially in higher spirits as you took in the different sights and smells, your facial features softening slightly. You were docile as you followed Illumi throughout the garden, engaging in conversation with him about all the different plants. He educated you on the purposes of different plants, ones that healed, ones that calmed, and ones that were extremely toxic but had a sweet, almost candy-like flavor. You don’t question him about that. 
He felt like he was truly bonding with you for once as you engaged with him. There wasn’t an ounce of negativity within you as you walked beside him, though you weren’t exactly beaming and doing heel clicks. You were calm; that was enough for him.
The sun had set and the moonlight bathed the garden in a white glow, fireflies fluttering about in the near darkness. You two had already begun the long walk back to the entrance a few minutes ago, silent as you listened to the chirping of numerous crickets and other critters. 
“It’s nice being able to enjoy nature like this.” Illumi stated as he stared ahead. 
“Yeah.” your tone was indifferent. “I used to go on walks like this all the time, but then something really unfortunate happened.”
“Hmm.”
Illumi only gave a simple hum in response, not wanting the mood to turn unpleasant so suddenly. Thankfully you didn’t say anything else to force an argument, quiet as he led you back to the entrance and into the car. 
The drive back was smooth, the only sounds being heard was the humming of the engine and the soft music coming from the radio. He takes you to the restaurant upon entering the hotel and dinner was just as quiet. You must be too tired to challenge him as you simply stare down at your plate. Good. He was finally able to enjoy a meal with you without getting a headache.
After dinner, he took you back to your shared suite, both of you showering before hopping into bed. You immediately roll onto your side, facing away from him as you try to escape into a deep sleep. He’s sat up in bed though, silently staring at you. 
The curtain covering the balcony door was partially opened, allowing the moonlight to flood the room and perfectly illuminate your figure. The sight causes him to reminisce for a moment.
“You were happier today —” Illumi spoke, voice a bit soft, “in the later half at least.” he’s silent for a moment as he thinks to himself. “I want to discuss something before you nod off.”
“Mhm.” you lazily hum.
You’d contemplated ignoring him in hopes he’d think you were sleeping, but you could count zero times that actually worked for you before. 
“Despite the rocky start… did you enjoy yourself today?”
He was seeking reassurance. He was being vulnerable. 
You’re in no rush to respond, allowing the silence to linger longer than he’d like. You think of all the different types of responses you could give him, ones that would please him enough to get him to shut up, ones that would severely upset him, and ones that would probably lead to him laying hands on you. 
“Would you enjoy doing your favorite things with someone who torments you?” you ask, ultimately deciding your answer would be up to Illumi. 
“So you enjoyed it? That’s good to hear.”
You don’t bother to correct him, knowing it would lead to a back and forth that would never conclude. 
Illumi, on the other hand, is completely satisfied, despite misinterpreting the true meaning behind your indirect answer. He was convinced that, ignoring your earlier defiance, today had been a total success and a step forward in the right direction. 
He’d only hoped he could make even more progress with you tomorrow.
.
Day three
.
Illumi rises very early, as he usually does, and gets himself ready for the day. His movements are silent as he walks about the suite, putting his clothes on, combing his hair, and more. He stands next to your side of the bed for a moment, gazing down upon your sleeping face and admiring your relaxed features.
He stares for way longer than he intended to before quietly making his way out the suite and to a secluded area. He makes a long phone call before returning to the suite and sliding back into bed, sitting upright as he stares at the blank TV.
You stir three hours later, yawning and stretching before sitting up. You wipe your eyes then look back at Illumi.
“Morning.” he greets.
“Hi.” your voice was softer than you meant it to be.
“Sleep well?”
“Mhm.”
You slide off the bed and head to the bathroom before he could ask you more pointless questions about how you slept. You complete your morning routine, taking a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror, before opening the bathroom door and standing in the doorway. Illumi slowly looks over at you. 
“When are we leaving?” you ask, wanting to limit the amount of time spent locked in an enclosed space with Illumi. 
“Whenever you’d like.” he responded simply.
You silently maintain eye contact with him for three seconds before making a request, “I want to pick my own outfit today, Illumi.”
Illumi taps his chin as if contemplating before sliding off the bed and heading toward the wardrobe. You watch him from your spot in the doorway as he lays multiple outfits out onto the bed, all featuring short sleeved tops and shorts coupled with some form of sandals for shoes.
“Take your pick.”
Sometimes you wonder if he’s intentionally misinterpreting you just to play mind games or if he’s really that unaware. You know it’s the latter, though. 
“This isn’t what I meant.” you state as he stares at you.
“You said you wanted to pick your outfit. I am giving you options to pick from.”
You decide not to fight it as this was the most control you’ve had over your own outfit in several weeks. You pick one that seemed to have the least of his inspiration and head to the bathroom with it. 
Illumi watched as the door shut behind you, clueless as to why you still had a problem with him even when he let you do what you wanted. He doesn’t dwell on it, packing the leftover clothes back into the wardrobe and calling the butlers to prepare breakfast. 
Once you were done and ready, he escorts you to the restaurant as usual. You feel a ping of unexplainable dread bubbling within you, but don’t think too much about it, chalking it up to the thought of having to deal with Illumi for yet another day for who knows how long. 
As you sit across from Illumi, you notice the rose petals have been replaced with fresh ones, some white and pink ones thrown into the mix. You fiddle with them as Illumi blankly stares at you. 
“We will be spending a lot of time outdoors today.” Illumi said. He figured he’d be the conversation starter during breakfast today as yesterday’s breakfast conversation led by you turned out to be very unsavory. “It’ll be good for the mind.”
“Yeah, I bet.” you continue fiddling with and even slowly tearing apart the rose petals. 
“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re doing?” Illumi inquired.
You don’t even look up at him. “What’s the point?”
“Do you not want to know what we’re doing today?”
“It’s not like you’d tell me anyway.”
“How do you know?”
You finally look up at him. “Why are you interrogating me?”
“I’m not. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”
You’d prefer if Illumi just kept his mouth shut as you weren’t in the mood for his pathetic attempt at a conversation. 
“For what? You’re not the talkative type.”
“I just wanted to talk.” he simply states. His voice had been slightly softer as he spoke with you.
“Is this another bonding experience of yours?” you mock, mentally rolling your eyes. 
“Yes.”
Of course he doesn’t sense your sarcasm.
“You know,” you start, noticing how Illumi stiffened slightly. “You know” was always your way of starting an argument. “communication in a healthy… relationship… is key. If you truly wish to bond with me, you’ll tell me everything you refused to tell me before.”
“I’ve already been doing that.” he states, referring to all the tiny bits of information he’s given you the last couple of days. 
“There is something bigger I want to know, something you’ve been refusing to talk to me about since you took me.”
Illumi looks down at the pile of mangled rose petals in front of you before looking back up into your eyes. He could already predict where you were headed with this and knew it would most likely lead to something that would put the progress he believed he made with you in jeopardy. You were simply seeking some sort of approval from him to talk, though.
“I’m not interested in this discussion.” Illumi boldly replies, the softness in his voice long gone. 
“It’s the least you could do, Illumi.”
“No.” he didn’t budge.
“You’re only going to end up sabotaging yourself.”
Illumi’s eyes narrowed at your subtle threat. You were basically telling him that if he didn’t have this conversation with you, you’d make the date hell for the both of you. 
“There is nothing positive that could come from this discussion; therefore, I see no reason to have it.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Yours.” Illumi says boldly. You were slightly taken aback by how quickly and effortlessly Illumi pinned the blame onto you, completely believing he’d done nothing wrong. “I see no point in giving you the chance to start unneeded drama.”
“You don’t need to give me the chance, it will happen regardless. I’m throwing you a bone by trying to settle things in a civil manner.” you say, watching as his eyes narrow even more.
“There is nothing to settle. Nothing will change whether you know or don’t.”
“You’re obligated to talk to me at this point.”
“I’ve been talking to you this entire time, I’ve fulfilled that obligation. You’re only going to throw a fit and ruin what we have going on currently.”
“You think we have something going on between us simply because we didn’t argue for a few hours?” You mock, your balled up fists resting on the table.
“Yes.”
Your words are caught in your throat as you realize just how out of it he truly is. Two butlers come and deliver breakfast, gently setting the plates of food in front of you and Illumi. They quickly leave, probably sensing the tension in the air, and Illumi immediately begins eating. He’s eating much, much slower than usual, though. 
He’s staring down at his plate as he does so, avoiding eye contact with you and hoping you’d just drop it for his sake.
You don’t.
“What was… the aftermath of my disappearance?” you ask, carefully choosing your words due to past experiences with Illumi’s negative reactions. Usually bringing up this topic was punishable by strangulation. Illumi had only warned you once before not to ask him about it, not explaining why or what he’d do if you did, only leaving you to find out through trial and error. “I deserve to know that much after so long.”
The dread coupled with asking the forbidden question is building in your stomach. You instinctively hold your hands under your chin, preparing yourself in case your plan to hold this date over his head doesn’t work. 
He doesn’t look up at you, but he’s not eating anymore either. Illumi had his reasons for not wanting to talk to you about this. It wasn’t because he felt guilt or shame for what he’d done, no not at all, it was because he didn’t want to deal with your reaction to it. You were a screaming, crying mess back then and even though you’ve calmed down to some degree, you’re still quick to return to your old roots. 
He found you as fascinating as he found you irritating, no longer questioning why he couldn’t bring himself to just kill you and move on with his life. You were a breath of fresh air, someone who kept him interested, someone who kept him wondering, and someone who always managed to surprise him with how bitchy you continued to be.
The realization that you’d rather be stifled until you’re unconscious than favor his simple demand sinks into him. You truly are an unruly brat. He finally looks up at you, which causes you to stiffen.
“What do you want to know?”
Illumi was made aware that you’d never shut up about it, and he wasn’t fond of the thought of cutting your vocal cords. He caved into your threat, to some degree, thinking that if he chose his words carefully, he could make it out of this discussion with minimal damage. He’d just have to walk on eggshells for a few minutes, eggshells he put down. 
Your eyes widened slightly. Was he actually agreeing to talk with you about it?
“You’ll… you’ll tell me?” you ask, hands slowly coming down to rest on the table.
“If we can move forward quickly afterwards and you never bring it up again, yes.” Illumi responded, making sure to place clear conditions.
“I will, only if you answer all of my questions truthfully.”
“Understandable.”
Your heart was beating rapidly as you looked into his eyes, all questions you had about the subject nearly leaving you before you quickly collected yourself. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come. You open them again after a moment, staring straight into his black ones.
“Have you harmed any of my friends or family since you’ve taken me?”
“No.” his answer was quick and concise. You were relieved. 
“Was I reported as a missing person?”
“Yes.”
“Did you… influence my case at all?”
“Yes.”
Your eyebrows furrow slightly. Yes he was answering your questions, but he wasn’t elaborating. “What did you do?” you ask.
“I made sure your case wasn’t thoroughly investigated.”
“Could you be more specific? I want to know the details.” you say with a hint of irritation in your voice. 
“I paid detectives to ignore all the statements the police took from you and to limit how long search parties spent looking for you. You were concluded as a runaway.”
Your eyebrows furrow even more as you think how distraught your family must’ve been when you vanished, what they must’ve been thinking when greedy detectives fed them lies in order to make a quick buck. You hate him.
“Why me?!” you yell at him.
You were beyond fed up with this, beyond fed up with him. He tilts his head at you, expression neutral as he brought a hand up to his chin as if he was thinking. 
“Indeed. Why you?” he doesn’t say anything else as he continues to stare at you in that pose.
“Why me?! Tell me, why are you doing this to me?!”
He takes a moment to respond, “That is indeed a good question.”
“You don’t even know why, do you?”
“No. I don't.” Illumi admits casually. “But even without knowing, the need is still there.” He straightens himself again, hands moving to rest on his lap. "I originally intended to kill you. I thought you were using some kind of power to control me. Imagine my surprise when I found out you weren't a nen user."
“A nen user? What the hell is that?”
He doesn’t answer your question, only silently looking at you. When you fail to say anything further, he looks down at his plate and continues eating in his usual quick fashion. It’s over with. He’s relieved.
You ponder momentarily, looking down at the food before you as you contemplate what you’re about to say. It was a long shot, but did you really have much to lose?
“I want to talk to my family. I want them to know I’m still alive and well.” you say confidently, not a trace of fear in your voice. 
If Illumi wasn’t obsessed with you, he would’ve killed you right then and there for making such a stupid, ignorant request. His frustration is calmly taken out on the fork he’s holding, his tight grip bending the metal into all sorts of shapes as his neutral expression remains fixated on the plate before him. It was a terrifying sight.
“Absolutely not.” his voice is terrifyingly nonchalant. “This discussion ends here.”
His aura warns you. You don’t care, though.
“I want to talk to them.” you repeat.
“We are not discussing this any further. Eat your food. Now.”
“Why can’t I talk to my own family?”
Illumi looks up at you, you see something flash in his eyes. “If you talk to your family, they’ll come looking for you. And if they come looking for you, I’ll kill them. By keeping them unaware, their safety is guaranteed. I’m doing you a favor.”
Your hands balled into fists once more. “How?! How are you doing me a favor?!”
Illumi replies quickly, “By not killing them from the start.”
“How can you say that and expect me to be happy with you?!”
“Because they’re still alive.”
“And so that’s it?!” your voice is starting to get loud. “Because you didn’t kill my family, I’m supposed to love and accept you?!”
“Correct.” he states boldly.
His aura was becoming more suffocating despite his completely neutral demeanor. You grit your teeth in anger.
“You’re fucking insane!” you shout at him, slamming your fist on the table and causing your untouched drink to spill. Illumi watches as the reddish pink fruit punch soaks into the table cloth. “Why would I want to live the rest of my life with someone like you?! I’d rather you just kill me at this point, it would be mercy!”
This is why he didn’t want to have this discussion, you were forgetting your place. 
“Watch yourself, (Name).” he says as he looks up at you. “This is your only warning.”
“Fuck you.”
Illumi abruptly stood up, the force knocking his chair back a few feet. Your anger immediately vanishes, fear taking its place. He grabs your wrist tightly, yanking you out of your seat and dragging you out of the restaurant. He had enough, your audaciousness had gone unpunished for far too long. 
Your weak attempts to pull away were only met with him tightening his grip more, causing you to cry out. It felt like he’d crush your wrist if he tightened any more. The tears had already begun streaming down your face, but you refused to beg for forgiveness. 
He’d taken you back to the suite, practically throwing you on the floor as he slammed the door shut behind him. He stood there, staring down at you with a look that would normally kill. 
“I’ve been very patient with you, I’ve been very lenient with you, and I’ve been very considerate of you, and this is what I get in return?” he asks.
You remain on the floor, wiping your tear stained eyes before looking up at him. “I don’t owe you shit. You ruined my life.”
“Ruined your life? You don’t know what ruining a life even means.” he takes a step towards you. He was convinced he saved your life, saved you from what would’ve been a violent death. You don’t seem to understand the type of person he is. “If I really wanted to, I could make your life a living hell. You understand that, don’t you?”
You glare up at him, your intense hatred for him evident on your face. “I hate you.”
Such a childish response should not have any sort of effect on him, but it did when it came from you. His aura quickly became overwhelming, striking you with complete and utter terror as you lay frozen on the ground. His eyes wide, his pupils shrunken to dots, and his hair floating in the air. You’d activated his bloodlust. 
His aura reached far and wide, paralyzing the hotel employees and causing the butlers to think he’d finally killed you. 
“No, you don’t. You love me.” he spoke his words as if they were fact, something you could not argue with. He takes another step toward you, eyes boring into you. “Isn’t it funny how you beg for death yet freeze in terror when the possibility of death becomes a reality?”
His voice was unnaturally soft for the state he was in. He was happy, happy that your talk of wanting to die was nothing more than a bluff, a tactic to control him. You didn’t actually want to die, you were just overreacting.
After a few seconds, he calmed down. His face returned to his neutral expression, his long hair falling back down into place. It’s as if nothing had even happened.
“Hm…” he hums, looking down at your paralyzed figure on the floor. He ponders for a few seconds before suddenly crouching down, scooping you into his arms, and gently placing you onto the bed. 
Without thinking twice about it, he lays beside you, one arm awkwardly outstretched on top of you as his head sits atop of yours. He was comforting you, though he didn’t know it. He had gotten an uncontrollable urge to do so, one he’d never gotten before, and was in no state of mind to resist. 
He stares out the balcony door as you lay unconscious in his arms. This feeling was foreign to him, just as everything relating to you was. He couldn’t comprehend how he felt right now, but knew he was at ease as he absorbed your warmth and slight twitches.
Illumi doesn’t move at all as he waits for you to wake up, awkwardly sprawled out partially on top of you as he continues to blankly stare ahead. His mind was empty, he felt no desire to dwell on what had happened, only allowing time to pass as he accepted this bizarre feeling. 
You eventually begin to stir, but he still doesn’t move, only shifting his eyes to look down at you. You slowly sit up, groaning as you do so, and wiping your eyes in the process. His arm falls lower than you’d like, causing you to grab and remove it off of you entirely. Neither of you say a word, but the tension doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expect it to be after something so traumatic. 
Illumi remains in his awkward position, watching as you slide off the bed and head to the bathroom. You stay in the bathroom for quite some time, your quiet sniffling and sobbing reaching Illumi’s ears. He doesn’t move to check on you, or rather put a stop to your crying, choosing to sit by and let you cry it out for once. 
He finally gets up after a while, thinking he’d given you more than enough time to recover and move on. He pulls out his phone, quickly texting Shiori, before moving to knock on the bathroom door. He casually states that the two of you will be leaving soon and encourages you to come out. 
You don’t respond but you do comply after a few minutes, eyes reddened and slightly puffy. He doesn’t comment on it, only silently walking you out the suite, outside the hotel, and into the truck once more. 
Despite almost brutally murdering you twice within a five minute time span and bruising your wrist, Illumi was nonchalant. He has the radio playing so he must be in a good, or at least neutral, mood. 
He parks near his next destination — the beach — and assists you out the car as usual, his hold much, much gentler than it ever had been. He continues to stand there after shutting the door behind you though, holding your uninjured hand and watching Shiori as she appears out of nowhere. Shiori doesn’t say a word as she gently takes your injured wrist. You don’t know what she does, but the pain and bruising is suddenly gone. She swiftly bows before leaving.
You’ve never verbally questioned her magical abilities but you mentally thank her as Illumi proceeds to escort you towards the beach. You think to yourself how strange this whole ordeal is but don’t feel the need to comment on that obvious fact, only remaining silent as he takes you over to two lounge chairs set up under a beach umbrella. 
You sit down, propping your head up on your hand as you stare out into the ocean. This was relaxing. Shiori appears once again, placing a pineapple smoothie inside of a hollow pineapple on the little table beside you before leaving just as quickly, a red umbrella and a swirly straw placed inside for maximum corniness. You ignore it. 
There was a surprising sense of tranquility within you as you sat in the lounge chair; the breeze felt nice, the sound of the waves was like a massage for your ears, and the occasional seagull noises gave you a sense of nostalgia. 
Your mind was calm, yet racing all at once, a feeling you were all too familiar with. You fully relax onto the chair, kicking your sandals off and turning onto your side — away from Illumi. You rest your head on your hands, shutting your eyes as the warm sun cleansed you of your stress. 
An hour passes, then two, then three.
“The view is nice.” Illumi finally speaks, continuing to stare ahead of him as he had been doing since he sat down. 
You don’t acknowledge him, not that he minded — for once — as he retained his calm demeanor. 
Illumi continued after a few minutes, ”We’re going to have dinner with my family back at Kukuroo Mountain tomorrow.”
Your heart sunk into your stomach. You immediately sit up, looking over at him for the first time since you came here. 
“What?!” you ask, clearly distraught over this unfortunate information.
Illumi turns his head slightly, shifting his eyes toward you as he repeats himself, “We are going to have dinner with my family back at Kukuroo Mountain tomorrow.” he turns forward again. “It’ll only be for a few hours, we’ll come back to the hotel once it’s over.”
“But-but why?”
“Because we have more to do here.” Illumi states. God, you can’t stand him.
You fully sit up in the chair, “I’m asking why are we suddenly having dinner with them when you’ve never introduced them to me before?” 
“They’ve been wanting to meet you since they found out about you, especially my mother.” Illumi taps his chin with his pointer finger. “I reached a compromise last night: you said the lack of people took away from your ability to enjoy time with me, and my family won’t stop pestering me about you, so by taking you to have dinner with them, I’m killing two birds with one stone.” 
Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the Zoldycks, at least his mother and father, had been extremely curious about you. Illumi had only mentioned you to his father when he was asking for permission to construct your living quarters near the Butler’s Quarters as well as when asking for his advice on courtship. The idea of Illumi being in love with someone completely caught the man off guard, but he gave Illumi what he wanted nonetheless. 
His mother found out when she questioned her husband about the construction workers, her jaw dropping dramatically before immediately bolting to find Illumi. She spread the news and hounded Illumi since then, never missing an opportunity to ask a question about you, which were all left unanswered, and even going as far as to harass Shiori and any other butlers who saw you in person. She never got the answers she wanted from them, courtesy of Illumi. 
His father, on the other hand, was patient and allowed Illumi to do his thing, thinking he was finally transitioning into the next stage in life. That doesn’t mean he didn’t order his loyal, pink haired butler to keep tabs on you, having her use her monocle to record her very rare interactions with you. He even had her join the large group of butlers Illumi took with him on his trip, giving him intel on what went on as everything unfolded.
Illumi was aware and assigned her with jobs that would keep her the furthest from you.
“What?! Why would they want to meet me?! Did you lie about me to make me seem cool?!” your voice raises slightly.
Illumi doesn’t react to it. “I only told my father that you were my partner, that’s it. I’m guessing he told my mother who then told everyone else.” 
Illumi didn’t want to introduce you too soon for one simple reason: you weren’t ready. He wanted you to be his happy, willing partner in everyone’s eyes, even those who knew better, and was concerned your lack of respect and unpredictable behavior would ruin that image. 
It made sense for them to be so curious, none of them had ever imagined Illumi of all people finding a lover and being so committed to them. They were intrigued and wanted to know who it was that Illumi thought worthy enough for his time, effort, and affections.
You’re clearly terrified at the thought. 
You sink back onto the chair, pulling your knees close to you as you think of all the different ways you’ll be humiliated and brutally tortured, how high their expectations of you must be, and how they’ll laugh when they find out you’re just a normal, average person. They probably thought you were also some kind of murderer, taking jobs and lives left and right. It was nerve-wracking.
“I don’t…” you start, “I don’t want to…”
Illumi looks over at you. “I did what you wanted, you can’t back out of it now.”
“Why'd you even bother telling me this? You never told me your plans before!”
“You said communication was key in a healthy relationship.” he answered.
You don’t say anything else to him. Whenever you thought you’d gotten the upper hand, Illumi found a way to counter it. You wondered if you would still have to meet his family tomorrow if you had kept your mouth shut the other day or if Illumi would’ve even told you about it if you hadn’t started that argument during breakfast.
He was taking you into consideration, just in all the wrong ways. 
The two of you sit in silence once again, your mind dreading tomorrow’s dinner and his mind as relaxed as can be. You continue to sit there for a couple more hours before Illumi announces it was time to head back.
Your mind never stopped racing, replaying thoughts of them attacking you over and over again. You don’t say anything during the car ride, you don’t say anything during dinner, which was much appreciated, and you don’t say anything as you ponder in the shower, only coming out after Illumi rushes you for taking too long. He slides onto his side of the bed after coming out of the bathroom, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. You were already tucked under the blankets, trying and failing to fall into a deep slumber as your mind continued to torment you with endless possibilities.
Illumi browses through channels until he ultimately settles on a random cooking show. He didn’t particularly care for it, only wanting something to fill the silence while he waited for something. You shift constantly before laying on your back, allowing yourself to watch as the contestants on TV failed to execute a successful dinner service, a British man pointing out all their faults and demanding they fix it. 
Watching the show eased some of your anxiety so you stay up for another couple of hours before you feel yourself beginning to drift off. You turn onto your side once more, getting comfortable as you try to fall asleep again. 
Illumi sees this and swiftly powers the TV off, completely turning the room pitch black as the curtain covering the balcony door was shut. He continues to sit up, however, eyes lingering on you in the darkness. 
He suddenly moves, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you towards the middle of the bed, wrapping his arms around you and causing all traces of sleepiness to leave you immediately. You shift once, slightly pushing against his arm. He only pulls you closer to him. You shift again, pushing harder this time. He only tightens his grip. He was getting way too comfortable.
“What are you doing?” you ask, your heart rate beginning to quicken.
“Holding you.” Illumi stated simply. 
It was clear by your body language that you were uncomfortable, body tense and stiff as you tried not to rub against him even more than you already had. He didn’t mind, though.
You internally curse him for spooning you as you now find yourself unable to sleep. You lay wide awake in his arms, too nervous to move due to how close and personal he was, but too uncomfortable to stay still either. You couldn’t help but shift a bit more, eventually finding a position comfortable enough to grant you the escape of a deep sleep. Illumi, however, remains wide awake, a slight smile on his face as he absorbs your warmth once again.
Tomorrow will be one hell of a day.
232 notes · View notes
kanene-yaaay · 4 months
Text
The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)
Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D
[~*~]
You were exhausted.
That was a problem.
Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.
(And look where you are now.)
The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.
Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 
Dying.
Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 
Resetting. 
Or something like that.
Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 
You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.
It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 
It was fine.
(It was fine.) 
Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 
The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 
(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)
Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.
You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 
Damn. 
You just really missed this.
Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 
Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 
That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.
Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.
The fact that Dogday cared.
He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.
It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.
However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.
Dogday smiled, looking down. 
“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.
He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”
You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.
Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 
“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 
He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.
“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”
He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.
Oh.
Oh.
That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 
You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.
With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 
Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.
“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 
(...)
Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 
The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.
Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.
(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)
And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 
Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 
Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 
It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.
So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.
(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)
Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.
It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 
With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?
His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.
He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!
“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 
You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.
It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.
A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.
That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 
This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 
You snuggled more.
All of it. It’s been a while.
As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.
(...)
You woke up with a scare.
Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 
One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.
Right. Safe. You were both safe.
You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.
Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.
And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.
(He truly was a marvel of science.)
At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.
Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.
Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 
It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 
You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”
Good morning, sleepy beauty.
Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.
A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 
“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”
You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.
Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.
“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”
No, not really. 
“What happened?”
It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.
“I see.”
He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 
Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.
He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…
A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.
Hm.
“Sunshine, do you like games?”
Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 
Dogday nodded, looking eager. 
Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.
“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”
Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 
“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”
Yes, you did.
You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 
Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 
As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 
Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.
Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.
You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 
“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”
No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!
“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”
He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.
“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.
The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.
Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 
His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 
(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 
“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 
Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.
He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.
“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”
Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.
Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.
“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 
With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 
With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 
Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-
Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.
Wait! Wait!
“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 
He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?
Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”
You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.
“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”
You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.
“Raspberries!”
A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 
Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.
Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.
Oh, you’re just so fun!
“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 
“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”
Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.
Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.
That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.
“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.
But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.
Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.
“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   
None! Absolutely none of them!
“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 
What!
At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”
That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!
He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.
(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)
Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 
A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 
Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.
(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 
“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 
You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 
“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 
“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.
“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.
“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 
“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”
He then attacked.
It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.
And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.
“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”
He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.
“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”
That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 
Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.
Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.
You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.
M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!
Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 
“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”
A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.
“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”
He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.
His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 
You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.
Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.
“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 
You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 
His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.
He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.
How was he so good at this?
Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”
That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.
With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.
Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.
After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”
Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 
After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.
“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.
Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 
But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.
Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.
“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.
No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!
“Are your cheeks…”
Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!
“Ticklish?”
Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.
“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”
And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.
Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 
Perfect. His plan had worked.
Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…
He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 
(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.
You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.
How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”
There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.
And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”
You too, Dogday.
(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)
[~*~]
Random fun facts!
-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D
-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.
-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd
-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.
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ourserendipity · 3 months
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A dimly lit room for the lonely two
(Aventurine x memokeeper!fem!reader)
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Aventurine's POV
Ah yes, sunlight. Since when did he ever truly felt the embrace of dawn? The warm light promised to him by his sister, by the only one he has left; now vanished under the falling drops of suffering and agony. It had been a long time, years even ever since it all happened; the day of reckoning if you would call it that. Painful as it may be, one could not dwell in the past that much longer, for it will only break the will and soul of man, bit by bit. And in doing so, that also meant for him leaving the place called 'home'; one that used to be surrounded by lush fields accompanied by the joys of his kind, now all but a bygone memory.
Sitting on his lavish couch at the local bar in Penacony, he scans his surroundings; still the same as ever. Not a single thing had changed, so much as he remembers: The blinding lights, endless banquets of mindless entertainment to feed the masses, and most importantly of all: the alcohol. He admits that he doesn't enjoy the taste of it and yet here he is, drinking all of it in full glory as if it's the only sustenance he needs. Strangely enough, he feels as if he's content living this way; roaming planet after planet to collect the debt of those who sold their souls to the IPC for some quick cash, not like he's going to complain or anything. Gambling too is one of the reasons why he still lives to this very day, it's pretty much his whole ordeal at this point: either you go big or you go home, and it seems like he's not backing down on any games any time soon. And one of those games, one that he especially looks forward to playing: is you, a memokeeper. Though to be honest, he's more interested in getting your attention rather than to just simply snoop information about you; he has the connections to do that easily. And what do you know, one thing led to another and now, he's finally close to you; enough for him to engage and to capture you in his silly little games. But to his surprise, it seems that you know him more than he thought you would.
The feeling of being trapped in someone else's fingertips, oh how he remembers; the fear and anxiety it brings to a poor child, and how it teaches them to live by it, hoping to one day get rid of it. But he never did, instead, he'd rather bury it deeper, only to be replaced by his insatiable hunger for thrill. One would think that it's his way to escape his own harsh reality, and truth be told: it is his only way, no other choice would suffice. But somehow, it doesn't feel like what he's used to: it's rather.... soothing, calming even. He couldn't fathom to understand how a mere stranger could do something like this. Perhaps it's your powers that made him feel vulnerable and oh so weak, yet it could also be fate that tied you to him altogether, all for this one fateful encounter. And to him, he wouldn't change it one bit.
And now here he is, dancing with you in this dimly lit room, hands intertwined at each other, bodies a few inches apart. His eyes couldn't get enough of your own; and he never will be satisfied. Your gaze of awe as you lead him in this dance ever so softly, tranced at the murky abyss that he had willingly reopened just for you to see, is something he thought he would ever do, especially to the likes of you. Strange it may be, he couldn't be bothered by it, in fact, he feels lighter now, elated even. He had finally felt the return of daw creep up to skin, sending shivers down to his spine as the two of you spin around, arms that would shortly depart and link back to each other made him feel something; it made him feel that he is something. It felt as if he had his own worth; one that could not compare to the unsurmountable riches of the IPC nor the undeniable powers held by his cornerstone. To him, he would forever cherish this moment, unchanged; even if it meant for him to risk everything he has. For he is like a moth, knowing the dangers of the fiery light and yet achingly yearns for its touch, willing to sacrifice its wings to feel even the tiniest bit of warmth he was never spared his whole life.
But it would seem that all of this would abruptly end; a lie within a dream. The deeper he went to the light, the further he spread his wings to fly farther, only to realize that the light he was chasing was no longer there. Rather, only the shadow remained on its stead, its stature still on the carpeted floor they were both roaming around. After that 'dance' of theirs ended, only did he realize that he was the light all along; all alone in his own little world. This moment would've been everlasting had he not let her be engulfed by his own abyss. Perhaps he should just remain in this dimly lit room for a while, to relish the remaining stains of your shadow he had been looming onto, hoping that he would meet you again, not in this dreamy illusion, but to the reality he wishes to return to; a dimly lit room, just for the lonely two.
(HERE IT IS! SKSJSKKKDKSJAKAUAJWUA I'm sorry it took me a while to finish this, I was still daydreaming about this for like days 😭😭 Anyways, now that I've finished this one, I think I would do an Aventurine x Singer!Fem!reader tho idk if I'll ever do that. If you have any suggestions, feel free to drop some and I'll probably brainrot abt it before fully writing something. ALSO! Thanks for the support y'all 💖💖 I'm still genuinely new to tumblr despite lurking around multiple fandoms silently and honestly, I'm still trying to adjust and to hopefully fully utilize the features tumblr has. So once again, I give y'all my heartfelt thanks for the 100+ notes and to your kindness for reading my brainrot of a work dkjskajaiajaia Love y'all!!)
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strawchocoberry · 10 months
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THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS
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୨୧ featuring: dainsleif, alhaitham, kaeya, tartaglia x fem reader
ଘ tw: angst || abduction (dainsleif’s part) || blood, violence (tartaglia’s part)
ଘ cw: lore spoilers || smut, fingering, handjob, oral sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, intimate sex
୨୧ synopsis: even after breaking up, the two of you can’t seem to let each other go
ଘ wc: 7k
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ʚ DAINSLEIF ɞ
After the destruction of Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif had never thought that he’d find someone to connect with. Due to his curse, he kept his distance and refrained from meddling with other people. During one of his travels he encountered you. Monsters of the Abyss Order had surrounded you, trying to tear you apart. Without a second thought, he fought off the monsters and saved your life. Dainsleif thought you were weird when you willingly left your nation to join him in his travels. You argued that you had always wished to travel across Teyvat and you couldn’t let this chance pass by. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having a travelling companion, but he soon changed his mind. 
You had noticed him disappearing in the middle of the night sometimes, only for him to be back in the morning, acting like he had never left. Once, hearing his footsteps get away, you decided to follow him. You found him a couple metres away, writhing in pain. And that’s when Dainsleif told you of his origin and his curse. He didn’t want you to know, so whenever the effects of erosion were too much for him, he would disappear so as to prevent you from finding out. You hugged him and ran your fingers soothingly through his hair, whispering that you were right there with him. Paradoxically, he found some comfort in your warmth, feeling his body numbing. 
You travelled together, fought monsters together — mostly Dainsleif fought them, but you helped as best as you could too. Falling in love wasn’t planned, yet it happened. And none of you complained. Despite the obstacles you faced, you were the happiest you could be at the time. You wished you could live like that forever. But Dainsleif was well aware that the gods weren’t favourable towards the people of Khaenri’ah. In the back of his mind, there was always fear. Fear that something would happen and he’d lose you. 
Since it would be dark soon, you found a cave to spend the night. Dainsleif went out to gather some wood for you to start a fire, while you gathered fruits from nearby trees and bushes. When he returned, you were nowhere to be found around the cave. He called your name several times, but received no response. He noticed how the fruits had fallen to the ground, some of them had been smashed from the fall. Remnants of abyssal energy were left behind. Following the trail, Dainsleif tracked you down, who had been abducted by an Abyss Herald that had been looking for him. 
“You finally appeared, Dainsleif,” the Abyss Herald remarked. “I was thinking of sending her corpse to you if you hadn’t appeared within the next hour.”
“I-I’m sorry, Dain…” you cried your apology. 
“Release her, now,” Dainsleif demanded, getting ready to engage in battle if it were needed. 
And when the former refused to cooperate with him, he easily took care of the Abyss Herald and rushed to your side immediately. “It’s fine, you’re safe now,” he whispered in your ear, kissing the top of your head. Your abduction made it clear to him that the Abyss Order knew about you. Dainsleif cursed at himself for putting your life in danger because of him. A few days later, you arrived back to the place you had first met. And that’s where Dainsleif bid you goodbye. He knew he was a coward, leaving you there alone and vanishing in the shadows of the night, but he couldn’t allow you to get hurt because of him again. 
There was no happily ever after for you. You realised that the next morning when you couldn’t find him anywhere. You were in pain. You cursed at him endlessly, whilst wishing for his return. Some of your old friends found you by chance and took care of you. Your house surprisingly was still intact, everything was exactly how you had left it. Your old life was forced upon you, only now it appeared to be an even greater burden. Knowing Dainsleif, you were well aware that you wouldn’t see him again. He would never return and even if you embarked on a journey to search for him, he’d make sure you never find him. 
Without you by his side, Dainsleif returned back to his old ways. He slayed monsters and hunted down the Abyss Order. The effects of his erosion seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. He hadn’t realised how much serenity you brought to his turbulent soul. He had promised that he’d stay away. He had promised that he’d never step foot there again. And yet there he was, asking around for the direction of your house. Dainsleif planned to take a quick look and make sure you were okay; nothing more, nothing less. The basket with fruits fell from your hands when you saw him standing at your front door. 
“Shit…” he cursed, noticing you behind him. He should have known better than to act so recklessly, but he couldn’t help himself. Dainsleif attempted to flee again, only this time you didn’t let him. Catching his wrist, you dragged him behind you inside your house, shutting the door behind you. Before he could react, you slapped him with such force that his head turned to the side. Touching upon his reddened cheek, Dainsleif turned to look at you. His eyes widened at your broken expression, tears falling from your eyes. 
“Why…” you murmured. “Tell me why…! Why did you leave?!” Your voice broke in the end. 
“To keep you safe,” he responded. “As long as you were with me, the Abyss Order would hurt you again and again just to find me. I left to protect you.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Protect me?” you questioned. Lifting up your sleeve, he was left shocked to look at the scar in your arm. “An Abyss Herald came looking for me a few days ago,” you revealed, rolling your sleeve back down. “It doesn't matter whether I am with you or not anymore. The Abyss Order knows about me being involved with you and they’ll come for me either way.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around your body as if to protect yourself. 
His mind started making what if scenarios; If she was with me, then maybe she wouldn’t have got hurt. Maybe she wouldn’t have to be so scared. Maybe we… Dainsleif stopped himself. If he got caught in that endless spiral, then it was over. His eyes were locked on your trembling form. He knew he had to say something, but he didn’t know what. If he apologised, would you feel better or would that enrage you? If he left now, would you follow him? If he asked you to join him in his travels again, would you consider that he was being selfish? 
“I’m so stupid for loving you even now…” you mumbled. 
But he heard you. 
“How can you still love me?”
“I can’t hate you, Dain…”
You took a step towards him, he took a step back. He was scared of letting you in again. It hadn’t been that long since you stopped travelling together. Maybe if a little more time passed, the Abyss Order would realise that you were useless to them and leave you alone. And yet when his back hit the wall and you were standing right in front of him, Dainsleif couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He hated himself for giving in, but only he knew how much his heart had suffered all this time you were apart. 
His hand roamed down to your thighs and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his torso as he walked towards the table across him. Placing you on top of it, he kissed your lips, as he stood in-between your legs. You undressed each other, kissing now as if you were starved people. You palmed his hard cock, whilst Dainsleif teased your clit with his thumb, his right hand massaging your breast. You both moaned in your kiss as you cummed. Laying you on your back, he placed your legs on his shoulders, as he aligned himself with your dripping cunt. His thrusts were slow, yet he reached deep inside you, having you cream all over him. 
He had missed how your cunt clamped down at him, making his eyes roll to the back of his skull. Dainsleif couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, holding tightly onto either side of the bed with your parted lips that moaned his name again and again and again. You could feel him throbbing against your velvet walls, which drove you mad. No, there could never be a chance for the two of you to be apart. You were too perfectly made for each other to be able to live without one another. 
Your body trembled as you reached your orgasm. A few more thrusts later, Dainsleif pulled back and cummed all over your lower abdomen. Lowering your legs from his shoulders, he pulled you up, your chest colliding with his. You were both panting hard, as you looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Your fingers traced the red handprint on his cheek, making him wince a little, causing you to giggle, before you kissed his lips. You shared slow, open-mouthed kisses until you had been deprived of oxygen again. The night was young and Dainsleif was going to make sure to repay you for the pain he had caused you. 
His promises of never leaving you again got you high, as he washed your body in all kinds of pleasures. You were taken over by feelings of immense love, adoring every single mark Dainsleif painted upon the canvas that was your body. You could see the sun threaten to rise in the sky, you could feel your body having grown numb from the overstimulation. And yet, you still wished this moment would never come to an end. 
ʚ ALHAITHAM ɞ
Usually, one would be most glad to receive a promotion. However, Alhaitham would beg to disagree. When he was asked to assume the role of Grand Sage after the events that drastically changed all of Sumeru, he flat out refused, knowing all too well how much of a hustle that would be. And he was proved correct, as now that he was temporarily occupying the position, Alhaitham was too immersed in his work, not even having time to enjoy the luxury of a good night’s sleep. And you? He hated to admit that you didn’t cross his mind once; at least not on a personal level. 
“I tried to find a better solution. But all my calculations led to this single answer.” 
You could see the sadness behind his usually apathetic eyes. Alhaitham hated every moment of shattering your precious heart to pieces, the part of you he loved the most, though he had no other choice. The Acting Grand Sage had expressed countless times his desire for being released of his duties as soon as possible, yet finding the person who would assume the position next proved to be a more difficult task than it was first anticipated. And Alhaitham had grown tired of giving you false hope. He was certain that at this point, he might be forced onto the role permanently. 
“I understand,” you replied, giving him the best smile you could at the moment, as tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “If you’ll excuse me.” 
Running out of his office, you bumped into Kaveh, who was just about to knock on the door. You passed by him, without so much as exchanging a word with him and ran out of the Akademiya. Returning to your house, you fell onto your bed and cried your heart out to your pillow. You loved Alhaitham more than you had expected at the start of your relationship. You realised that he wasn’t happy about this turn of events. Looking at the side of the bed he usually occupied, you couldn’t help recalling him sitting there with a book in hand, welcoming you to another day. You cursed at him, cursed at his decision to choose his work over you. “I hate—” And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to utter those words. 
And as Kaveh gave him an earful, Alhaitham could only think of you crying. He appeared perfectly composed on the outside, but on the inside he was being eaten alive. He was well aware that now that’s taken care of, he should probably focus on his work. But that seemed quite unrealistic at the moment. He chose the irrational decision of allowing himself to leave early that night and drink his sorrow away at the tavern. Kaveh realised how hurt he was when he invited him to join him. And while he tagged along, he didn’t have a single glass of wine that night, knowing that he should at least stay sober and help Alhaitham return home. 
The timing of your breakup couldn’t have been worse. The next day, as the newly appointed Grand Conservator you had to give your monthly report to the Acting Grand Sage. Both of you refrained from making eye contact with each other. Instead, you only gave yourselves permission to steal a few glances at one another’s state. Alhaitham noticed your puffy red eyes, as you elaborated on some problems the House of Daena was facing in a monotonous voice. As he went through the documents, you observed how he rested his head on his hand, grimacing from time to time, a sign that he was experiencing a headache. Or more like a hangover, as he reeked of alcohol. 
Your meetings continued like that. Neither making eye contact nor making small talk. You simply sat back and watched each other being eaten alive by everyday life’s troubles and the weight of one’s absence from the other’s life. Kaveh, who was close to both of you, couldn’t help but be worried for the two of you. He had planned a trip to the desert for research, but he ultimately postponed it and stayed behind to help you out. Time seemed to pass slowly, the hours working in the Akademiya felt endless and you were both desperate for some time off work, even though that was impossible at the moment. It took all his willpower, but Alhaitham managed to erase you from his mind, him now focusing solely on his work, just as he wished. 
It was late at night. You simply needed to put two books back on the shelves and you could clock out. You noticed that the last book belonged to a higher shelf than you could reach. You sighed as you stood on your toes, struggling to put the book back. You were about to give up, when someone took it from your hand and placed it on the shelf. Turning over your shoulder to look at the tall figure looming over you, your eyes widened in shock at the person standing behind you. 
“A-Acting Grand Sage?!” you exclaimed. 
Alhaitham clicked his tongue in annoyance, hearing you call him that. Ever since you two broke up, you hadn’t once called him by his name. His features softened with a sigh, as he leant closer to you, pinning you onto the bookcase. He remained silent for a moment, before he took a deep breath and started speaking. “I realised that breaking up with you was the most irrational choice I had ever made. I realised that when I stopped thinking about you. But even that is a lie, because truthfully you were always in the back of my mind.” He wrapped his left arm around you, bringing your body closer to his. “I know that I’m not worthy of your heart anymore. However, if you could—”
“Don’t misunderstand,” you interrupted him. He couldn’t see your face, but the tightening of your stomach made it clear to him that you were on the verge of crying. “I… I want you back. However, you have your own responsibilities. And I don’t want to put you in a position where you have to choose me or your work again.”
“I quit,” he announced. “Everyone kept asking me to stay, even though I had expressed my desire not to. So, I pressured them into making haste with the procedures of finding a suitable Grand Sage.” Alhaitham turned you around, a bittersweet smile curving on his lips, looking at you crying. “And now, I’m back to being the Akademiya’s Scribe,” he said, wiping away the tears. He caressed softly your cheek, his eyes looking deep into yours. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much.”
His lips crushed yours, finally feeling alive. He clung to you desperately, for you were oxygen, breathing life into him. Alhaitham placed his hand on the back of your head, as he pinned you back onto the bookshelf. Sucking you dry of oxygen, he pulled back, looking at you panting hard. You were breathless, but he couldn’t help thinking how breathtakingly beautiful you were. The most gorgeous being in Teyvat. And you were his, again. His usually calm heart had started skipping beats, just how it always did when you were around him. 
You grasped his biceps frantically, burying your face on his chest, as his fingers slipped underneath your skirt, rubbing now your clothed cunt, feeling you getting slowly aroused. Under any other circumstances, you would have already pulled back, insisting that it was inappropriate of you to have sex in the House of Daena. Nonetheless, your willpower to pull away was long gone, not to mention that nobody was there except for the two of you. You craved his touching you, craved his moaning your name, craved his intimate side only you were aware of. 
Pulling his collar, you sucked on his exposed neck. You couldn’t help but moan, as Alhaitham pulled your panties to the side and slid his fingers into your soaked cunt. Unconsciously, you bit his neck, making him whimper, but he didn’t mind you marking him, since it meant that you marked what was yours. Your nails dug into his black sleeves and you were thankful for his hand holding you, because otherwise you might have already lost your balance long ago. Your moans were a blessing, the long awaited reward for his hard work. And despite loving hearing you moan his name, Alhaitham couldn’t resist his urge to kiss you. 
Your walls tightened around his fingers, coating them in your slick, his name breathlessly escaping your lips. Pulling them out, he licked them clean and kissed your cheek, as you tried to regulate your breathing. Burying himself in the crook of your neck, Alhaitham lovingly kissed your upper body. “I need you… Inside me… Please… Alhaitham…” you breathed your plea, attempting to unbuckle his belt. And who was he to deny your request? Giving you a helping hand, he kissed your lips, as he aligned himself with your cunt. You both moaned as he slowly dived in, your bodies overtaken by the familiar feeling of belonging. 
With your back on the bookshelf and his hand to protect your head, Alhaitham used his other hand to rock your hips on his, thrusting at a slow pace, feeling his cock stretch every part of you. His touch set your body ablaze, but even if you were to get burnt, you wouldn’t mind if it was because of him. You felt drunk, overwhelmed by the intimacy of having him in you once again. His hold on you was delicate, yet firm, for he feared you might slip out of his hands. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him closer to you and kissed him, reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere. 
“I love you…” he whispered in your lips. 
“I love you too…” you whispered back. 
You could both feel your releases building up. And yet, you didn’t wish to rush it, wanting to cherish the moments leading up to euphoria. The love-dipped gazes, the moaning of each other’s names, the hold grip on one another’s body; you were getting high by the intimacy you shared for the first time in a long time. Alhaitham slammed your body in his, burying himself deep in your cunt, as you both orgasmed at the same time. He remained still, as he grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to face him, his lips capturing yours.
ʚ KAEYA ɞ
“You’re serious about him?”
“I am.” 
“I see.” Diluc sighed. “Just be careful. You might find something that you don’t like in time.” 
Diluc wasn’t one to meddle in your private life. Although since you were involved with Kaeya on a personal level, he couldn’t help but worry for your well-being, knowing all too well every aspect of his adoptive brother. You sometimes remembered back when you were young, the three of you played together in the Dawn Winery. Everything changed with Crepus Ragnvindr’s death about three years ago. At the time, your superior, Lisa, had sent you to Liyue to acquire some new books for the library. Informed of the events that had occurred in Mondstadt, you hurried back, only to meet the two once close brothers torn apart. You never learnt what was the real reason for their fallout. 
Truthfully speaking, you didn’t take Diluc’s words seriously, thinking that they stemmed from his hatred towards Kaeya. You didn’t believe him, until it was too late. You had accidentally stumbled upon a peculiar book hidden in Kaeya’s apartment. It piqued your interest, so without giving much thought to it, you started reading it. It turned out to be a diary of someone from Khaenri’ah. Not much is known about that nation, only that no god ruled over it. “This is your chance. You are our last hope.”, my father told me, then vanished. You were slowly starting to realise that you had touched something forbidden. You should have quickly put it back where you found it, yet you couldn’t stop reading. 
“What are you doing?” Kaeya’s ice cold voice startled you. 
Raising your head, you met his gaze, fierce madness glowing in his eyes. He didn’t falter, not even at the sight of your tears that always had him worry sick and burn with anger as he would hunt down whoever had dared to hurt you. Kaeya didn’t utter a single word, he just looked at you through narrowed eyes, noticing how you were unwilling to answer his question. Taking the diary — his diary — from your hands, he put some distance between you two, facing the window, as he took a look upon the part you had been reading when he caught you. He heaved a deep sigh, noticing you had reached the fateful day he and Diluc fell apart; the day he gained his Cryo Vision in his duel with Diluc. 
“You weren’t supposed to find out about this,” Kaeya mumbled to himself, earning a sorrowful “yes” from you. “Get out.” 
“W-What?”
“Get out!” he yelled, as he turned around to face you. “Get out now!” 
He was brimming with anger. You had never seen him this enraged before. Your body started trembling as one feeling instinctively usurped control of your body; fear. You were scared — scared of him. The moment you stepped out of his house you knew. It was over. Running in the rain, your heart left behind a trail of blood, aching in your chest as if you had been stabbed. Kaeya let out a frustrated shout, starting wrecking the place, whilst tears fell from his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, we’re closed.”
“Diluc—” Your voice was caught in your throat, unable to let another word come out. 
You knew that you were selfish at the moment, running into his arms and crying, especially when the cause of your tears was one of the people stuck in his heart like a thorn. You didn’t know where else to go, though. “I had warned you about him.” Diluc sighed, as he soothingly rubbed your back. And right then, you wished you had listened to him more carefully. Maybe if you had, you would have been more prepared for this. 
The next day, at the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius, everyone quickly picked up on the blizzard of an atmosphere that surrounded the two of you. You holed up in the library, taking all the books out and dusting them off, then putting them back to their place, over and over again. You needed to keep your mind occupied, otherwise you feared you would collapse. Receiving news that the Cavalry Captain had left for a mission to Dragonspine made you feel both relief and pain. 
Kaeya had lost track of time. He killed and killed monsters every day, occasionally engaging in battle with some Fatui that sought to vex him. The Knights had lost contact with him. When they were informed of a collapse in the Starglow Cavern, the last place Kaeya was seen before communications were cut off, Jean sent a team to search for him. Ultimately, he was found a little further from there, once more killing monsters. When he returned to Mondstadt, the Active Grand Master scolded him for his inappropriate conduct. Yet now that he was back, all Kaeya could think was you. 
Without realising, he found himself in front of your house. He hesitated, but eventually he knocked on your door. Emerging from the depths of your house, you went to open the door to see who it was at such a late hour. You thought that Diluc might have passed by again, asking you to come stay at the Dawn Winery for a few days, so that he can keep a better eye on you. You clearly weren’t expecting Kaeya standing at your doorstep. He was a wreck; dark circles underneath his eye, loss of weight and no sign of his mischievous smile. Not that you were one to judge, being in a similar state. 
“I…” he started, but paused. 
Would you listen to him? Would you even want to listen to him in the first place? Those questions tormented him. He hadn’t thought about your feelings prior to his appearance at your doorstep. Kaeya was driven by his desire to talk to you, explain to you the horrors in his mind in hopes that maybe he could save whatever fragment of your relationship had endured thus far, no matter how small and insignificant it was. Looking at you, your terrified expression of that night flashed before his eyes. He was about to run away, when you caught his wrist. 
“Come inside. It’s rather cold out here, isn’t it?” You nervously smiled. 
Reluctantly, he followed you inside and sat beside you on the couch. He was confused as to why you hadn’t already kicked him out. You had promised yourself that if he came looking for you, you’d give him the chance to speak his mind, whatever that might be. He could curse you or answer all your questions; it didn’t matter to you. But you weren’t going to go find him, not wanting to aggravate him. If he never came, then that’s that and you were going to accept it. However, there was one thing you wanted to tell him if you ever got the chance. 
“I’m sorry for reading your diary that night. I… I shouldn’t have read something so personal to you. I apologise for making you angry. You had every right to be enraged with me.” 
“I… I wasn’t enraged with you,” Kaeya revealed. “I was pissed at myself. I knew that the day would come when you would find out, when everyone would find out. I didn’t tell you, because I was scared of losing you… Just like I lost Diluc… And I… I wouldn’t be able to live if you were gone—” 
You interrupted him by kissing his lips. Pulling back, you caressed his cheek, wiping away the tear that fell from his eye. You marvelled at the star-shaped iris, as you had assumed you would never see it again this close. Wrapping his arm on your waist, Kaeya pulled you on his lap, his lips finding yours once more. Your fingers ran through his hair, as his hands delicately traced your back. Breaking the kiss, you were both out of breath, yet you craved for each other, having missed the warmth of one another’s body. 
Ridding him of his cape and blouse, you kissed his lips, then his neck and all the way down to his tight pants. Sitting now on your knees in-between his spread legs, you removed the remaining clothes that were in your way and looked up at him, as you took his cock in your palm, slowly starting to stroke him. You licked his tip that was already leaking some precum, aroused only by you slightly touching him. Kaeya let out a deep moan, as you wrapped your lips around him, your tongue swirling around his shaft and teasing that one vein that had him grab hard onto the couch. 
Taking a glance at him, you noticed how flushed red his cheeks were, drunk as he was, despite not having had a single drop of alcohol. You heard him moaning your name, drenching your panties at the melody. One hand slipped down and pulled your panties aside, then you rubbed your clit, slick coating your fingers. Kaeya was close, but he couldn’t wait any longer. Pulling you onto his lap once again, he undressed you in a hurry, then buried his face on your breasts, taking one nipple in your mouth and sucking on it, as his fingers were already working on your pulsating cunt. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and a whiny whimper escaped your lips at the loss of his fingers right before your release, but soon enough you felt his cock slowly immersing in your tight walls. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed his lips, as he started guiding your hips into riding him. Your back arched and his name echoed in your moans, whilst Kaeya was busy leaving love marks all over your breasts, holding your upper body carefully in place with one hand, the other resting on your ass, giving it a slight squeeze from time to time. 
Already aroused as you were, it didn’t take long for the two of you to cum. Even so, you weren’t quite done yet, not feeling satisfied enough by this tiny bit of intimacy you had shared. You craved for more, the hole of each other’s disappearance not having yet healed. Holding onto your hand, Kaeya brought it to his lips and kissed the back of your palm, then locked your fingers, as he continued thrusting into you, driving you towards your orgasm once more. 
ʚ TARTAGLIA ɞ
“I think I didn’t hear you correctly, sir,” Tartaglia sneered, before his expression turned deadly. “Mind repeating that?”
“That woman has made you soft. She is restraining your killing tendencies. She is a threat to you,” Pierro repeated calmly. “Kill her.” 
“I refuse.” 
Pierro sighed deeply. The next moment the leader of the Harbingers looked at Tartaglia, he hated to admit that the bloodlust made him tremble. He was well aware of the Jester’s capabilities and to what lengths he would go to achieve his goals. 
“Kill. Her.” 
“I… I can’t…” Tartaglia confessed, his voice breaking. 
“This is what I mean when I say that she’s a thorn on your side. You must get rid of her.” Pierro turned to look the younger dead in the eyes. “Otherwise, I will.”
The 11th Harbinger thought hard about a way to fix this. It was known within the ranks of the Fatui that he was in a relationship with his second-in-command. Tartaglia never intended to hide it anyway. And whilst nobody seemed to be bothered, after all this time you had been together, Pierro had put you on his black list of people he must eliminate. Convincing the adamant Jester wasn’t an easy task, but in the end, he managed to reach the most favourable conclusion he could have hoped to achieve. 
“I… I can’t do this anymore…” 
“A-Ajax…?” You felt your heart clenching on your chest. His words kept ringing like a curse in your ears. And yet, you couldn’t understand what had happened for you to end up to this very moment. You knew that Tartaglia wasn’t the person to joke about such matters and, no matter how many times you observed him, there was no hint of lying on his face. But you couldn’t accept that. As you fell on your knees, you wished that he was joking. Looking up at him with tears welled up in your eyes, you came to the harsh realisation that this was no prank. He meant every single word. 
Before his self-control crumbled to dust and he knelt down to hug you tightly, apologising for his cruel words, Tartaglia turned around and left your house. As he closed the door behind him, he heard you screaming his name, followed by painful sobs. It took everything he had not to turn back. The further away he got from you, the more his mask had broken, his tears falling from his eyes. He deliberately spent the evening out in the cold snow in hopes that his tears would seize. He barely made it back home. He cursed at himself for he was weak. Yes, he was weak against the Jester. Even if he challenged him to a duel, Tartaglia knew that he was going to lose. 
There was a morning meeting of the Harbingers the next day. Pacing through the corridors, you headed over to the meeting room. You were baffled as to why you had been called. And while you should have been pondering over that, the only thing on your mind was how you were going to behave in front of him. No matter how much makeup you used, your eyes still betrayed the fact that you had cried yourself to sleep till late at night. If you were to see him now, you weren’t sure whether you’d break down or attack him, demanding an explanation. The strong auras of the Harbingers didn’t give you the chance to lament further, as you were abruptly forced into work mode. 
“As of today, you will be working under the Captain,” Pierro informed you. 
You didn’t understand what led to your transfer under another Harbinger, but you thanked Her Royal Highness for this development. It was an understatement that working under Tartaglia would have been pure torture right now. A lot of people praised the Captain. You remember Viktor mentioning that he wished to work under him one day. Walking behind the tall man, the two of you already being dispatched for a mission, you thought that you had been lucky. You wouldn’t have wanted to end up working for the Doctor or the Jester himself. 
Soon enough you realised that the missions the ever-righteous Captain was sent to were a hundred — maybe a thousand — times more dangerous than those you and Tartaglia were sent to. In order to stay true to himself and uphold his unwavering sense of justice, the Captain wasn’t afraid to brutally crush his opponents. One thought crossed your mind, as you watched him tearing apart his enemies; If I get in his way, I’ll die. You made sure to keep that in mind. 
You were soon forced to admit that you needed to train more, as you had been circled by four opponents. Cuts and wounds had covered your body, while you struggled to fight back. It took all you had to manage to cut down those fiends, before collapsing on the ground, feeling dizzy by the blood loss. You felt something warm falling onto your shoulders and noticed that it was the Captain’s coat. The Harbinger lifted you in his arms and took you to a nearby Fatui camp, where he treated your wounds. He seemed different from when he was fighting. Maybe it was his intimidating appearance, but you thought that he was much more gentle and kind than you had anticipated. 
And despite having to throw yourself in danger during every mission, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about him. You cursed at him as you slayed your enemies, imagining them as him. The Captain noticed how you had gradually grown to be more reckless and offered his help to lessen your burden. No matter how much you cursed him, your heart would still bleed for him. Half a year had passed and you were still yearning for him. Thankfully, you had an abundance of enemies to take your anger out on, without having to feel any remorse. 
Tartaglia hadn’t been in a better state than you. His heart had broken millions of times seeing you after a mission again and again covered in blood — your blood. You were punishing yourself for still harbouring feelings for him. He knew that, because he knew you. He had once overheard some of the Captain’s subordinates discuss how your latest recklessness was going to cost you. He told himself that he wasn’t going to intervene in your mission, he was only going to watch you from afar. However, his body reacted before his mind could give the command, killing the enemy that was about to drive their sword straight through your heart from the back. 
Noticing him standing behind you, pulling out his blade from the now dead enemy, you couldn’t control yourself in the heat of the moment and attacked him. “Why are you here?!” you yelled. Despite you launching attack after attack, Tartaglia didn’t once go on the offensive; he only guarded himself against your lethal attacks, letting you inflict minor wounds throughout his entire body. This continued for a while, until you were both cut off from the Captain’s group and lost within the snowy forest. You were panting hard, tired from your previous battle. Your sword fell from your hand, as you collapsed on his chest. Even so, you continued punching him with your weak fists until you lost consciousness. 
When you woke up, you found yourself lying down on his bed with him standing next to you, gently caressing your hair. You tried to get away from him, but he managed to immobilise your body within mere seconds. You yelled at him to release you, but Tartaglia wasn’t going to. For once, he was going to act shamelessly and selfishly. “I… I never wanted to break up with you.” Despite your resistance, he explained to you what the Jester had asked of him and what he sacrificed in exchange for keeping you alive. “Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa, found out about Pierro's order. And she wasn’t particularly happy to say the least.” 
By now, you had calmed down, resting your head on his chest, barely keeping yourself from crying your heart out, realising how stupid you had been this past half year. “I know I should have told you about all this earlier. Maybe if I had… I… I didn’t want to get you killed because I’m weak…” His grip around you tightened. You could hear his voice breaking, as he buried his face on your shoulder. Turning around, you cupped his cheeks and smiled, as tears fell from your eyes, apologising for all the pain you caused him. 
He caught you off guard by kissing your lips. His arms were tightly holding onto your body, as if to prevent you from slipping away again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning as he bit your lower lip, his tongue infiltrating your mouth to find yours. Your body was set ablaze, memories of passionate nights taking over, as you started grinding against his clothed cock. Tartaglia pulled back and watched your head falling back, moaning his name, feeling himself getting hard. It had been so long since you last had sex and he wanted to relish the moment. 
He undressed you slowly, kissing every part of your body that had suffered in countless battles. “Ajax… Ajax…” Your moans made him impatient, yet he managed to maintain a level of self-control. Lying you delicately back on the mattress, he kissed your inner thighs, sucking on the tender flesh, before focusing on your drenched cunt. Tartaglia slowly ate you out, whilst keeping his eyes locked on you, watching you squirm and tightly grasp the bed sheets. His tongue was sucking your clit, while two of his fingers stretched out your hole, leading you to your release. 
Ridding himself of his clothes, he stroked his cock a few times, teasingly rubbing the tip on your wet folds, coating it in your slick. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he dived in your cunt, forcing the air out of your lungs. His thrusts were slow, yet intense. Leaning over you, Tartaglia buried his face on the crook of your neck, leaving behind his marks. Holding your hands, he intertwined your fingers. “I love you…” he moaned with each thrust. Your back arched, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. For the first time in half a year, you felt alive. You caught his neck and forced him to lean closer, your lips crushing his, whilst your fingers ran through his ginger hair. 
“Ajax… Cum in me…” you requested. And he could never refuse you. You cunt spasmed on his throbbing cock, as you reached your high, moaning his name in his lips. Not long after, Tartaglia moaned your name in your lips, as he orgasmed, filling you up with his cum as you had asked him. He stayed deep inside you, as he kissed your lips. His hands caressed your cheek, not quite yet believing that you were truly there. He had promised himself that he would strive to get stronger so that nobody could tear you apart again. For the time being though, his main focus was making you feel loved.
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mehidktbh · 1 year
Text
Between You And Me (P.t 2)
Pairing: Simon Riley x Nurse!Fem!Reader
Summary: You try to ignore that night and what happened. Ignoring your boyfriend in hopes he doesn't find out what happened that night. But yet he does and just in time too.
Warning: War, unwanted/nonconsensual, secret relationship, touching, ANGST, fluff and comfort, TW SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), illusions to SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), fainting, little fighting and violence
A/N: Sorry... for the uh... absence... 👀 (Part 1)
Taglist: @lauraliisa, @mxtokko, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @ghostshotwife420, @snortangeldust, @thychuvaluswife, @quesowakanda, @goodsoup03, @cielobgers, @andy-unu-03, @sididakra-jo, @nocti1s, @luvfromkat, @lily-ilo, @iwmtfm, @elentiyaiswriting, @berryjuicyy, @crazyfandomist, @aqxz, @yaaamadaa-blog, @itsquinoa, @tomhollandisabae, @wivwer, @old-red-owl, theverycelestialgemini, leopardfang15, @iwmtfm
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As the footsteps drew nearer, echoing through the darkness, they closed in on you with an unsettling stealth, reminiscent of a fox cornering its prey. Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached your office door, desperately grasping the handle and attempting to push your way inside. But before you could find safety within, a hand halted your progress, chilling your hips with its touch. Anxiety washed over you, heavy and suffocating, as if threatening to consume you entirely.
"Let go of me," you asserted firmly, standing your ground and inching your hips back, a clear display of your discomfort. "Don't play games, Princess," a voice sneered, its presence accompanied by an unfamiliar scent that filled your nostrils. Despite your years as a medic within this organization, you had never encountered someone like this—a despicable individual who still possessed an air of arrogance, clinging to his dignity as he perpetrated his vile actions.
You felt his hands rise slowly, and though you were clad in your trusty hospital scrubs, providing a barrier between his skin and yours, you could sense the weight of his touch. The darkness shrouded your vision, as you remained frozen, facing the wooden door, unable to identify the person lurking behind you throughout the night. The hallway, an enigmatic and mysterious abyss, seemed to torture you with its thickness. Then, suddenly, a flicker of light erupted from the far end of the hall, exposing a glimpse of the unknown. At that moment, your assailant vanished into the shadows, leaving you unable to shake off the remnants of fear that had paralyzed you.
♡ ♡ ♡
It's been two days since that night, though it's felt like you've been going through pain and hell to even wake up. You couldn't bare the thought of seeing him just simply existing and walking around with his dignity in his hands. It shook you to your core and now you lay down in your dorm, staring at the ceiling in silence. Draining your energy and clouding your thoughts. With each passing moment, your eyelids grow heavier, as if burdened by invisible weights, tempting you to surrender to the allure of sleep. "Y/N! Get up we need all hands!" A voice suddenly yells from outside your door, banging on it as you jolt awake. Shouting back you'll be down soon as you scatter to get up, scavenging through your clothes on the floor before throwing them on. Opening your dorm door and walking towards the medical section of the barracks. Turning a corner you see out of the corner of your eyes your boyfriend. Ghost. You feel bad for ignoring him for the past two days, trying to avoid his presence and where he always hangs around. Even going far as to sometimes ignore him around midnight, when you guys would stay up in one of your dorm rooms. Talking below a whisper to not wake anyone up beside youse as you whispered sweet nothings into each other's ears. And the more you ignored him the more you longed for him and his touch, his dark voice and handsome appearance. And the second you pass him he looks your way, blocking out Soap as he goes on about something he saw outside the barracks this morning. He eyes you as you walk past, he knows by the way you speed walk past, keeping your eyes trained hard in front of you. That you don't actually want to ignore him yet he doesn't intervene or call your name... he'll stop you later... - - -
Overhead, fluorescent lights cast a bright, clinical glow that illuminates the room, ensuring visibility even during the darkest hours. Medical supplies are meticulously arranged on shelves and in cabinets, their contents carefully labelled and readily accessible. You can find neatly stacked bandages, gauze, and medical instruments, each item serving as a silent reminder of the room's purpose: to provide essential medical care to those in need.
The walls are adorned with informational posters, displaying diagrams of the human body and illustrations of proper medical procedures. These educational tools serve as a constant reminder of the medical staff's dedication to their craft and their commitment to maintaining the health and well-being of the barracks' inhabitants.
A small desk sits in one corner of the room, where you can usually be found, diligently recording patient information, attending to paperwork, and ensuring the smooth operation of the medical facility. An array of medical equipment, such as a blood pressure monitor, stethoscope, and examination tools, are readily available, indicating the room's capacity for comprehensive medical assessments. You stand silently near the sink, cleaning off and disinfecting some of the metal medical tools you used recently. Some tweezers and scissors as you run a disinfecting wipe along the blade making sure the bacteria and any blood are wiped clean. Turning around at the sound of the door opening and closing, thinking it's a soldier you turn around with a smile to greet them. Dropping it instantly when you realise...
"Missed me?" he taunts, a chuckle escaping his lips, his arms wide open as he strides toward you with ill intentions. Despite the rising unease, you muster the courage to hold your ground, determined to maintain your confidence. "What do you want? This room is strictly for medical purposes," you assert, making it clear that anything beyond that is unacceptable. However, he disregards your words, refusing to leave and inching closer until he stands directly in front of you.
"I came to see you, Y/N," he sneers, his voice dripping with revulsion. The knowledge of his intentions sends waves of disgust surging through you, causing an internal struggle. You attempt to sidestep him, but he quickly extends his arm, blocking your path and forcefully gripping your waist, pressing you against the wall. His proximity is suffocating, and you instinctively turn your head away, shooting him a glare filled with sheer loathing, silently conveying your plea for him to stop. Yet, he remains undeterred, his fingers tugging at the edge of your uniform, sliding his hand underneath.
However, before his actions can fully manifest, they are abruptly interrupted. Simon steps forward, towering over the man, his teeth clenched as he hisses through them, inflicting pain on his own assailant, who clutches his head in agony. Visibly enraged by the disruption, Simon turns around, his anger palpable. But before he can utter a word, he reaches out, swiftly encircling the man's neck with his hand. Simon's arm tightens, muscles bulging and veins protruding as he flings the assailant toward a nearby hospital bed. With unrelenting strength, he maintains his grip, applying increasing pressure, observing as the assailant struggles to form coherent words, desperately attempting to free himself. As he tightens his grip on the man's neck, squeezing the life out of him until he finally succumbs, collapsing to the floor unconscious.
Simon turns towards you, his gaze falling and a deep sigh escaping his lips. His eyes carry a profound sympathy that penetrates your heart, causing a sharp ache within. You realize the weight of the secret you've kept from him as he approaches you slowly, his desire to understand why you chose not to confide in him palpable. Succumbing to the overwhelming emotions, you sniffle and tears stream down your face, overwhelmed by guilt and uncertainty, unsure of whom to turn to when it all began.
In the safety of his embrace, you tighten your grip around your boyfriend, seeking solace in his touch. He allows you to cry and sob, offering you the support and protection you need, even if you strive for independence. In this moment, he wishes for open communication, hoping you will share your burdens with him in the future, your voice muffled against his military uniform as you attempt to speak.
"I'm sorry, Simon… I'm sorry," you manage to utter amidst your tears. He silences your apologies, gently placing his gloved hand on the back of your head, soothing your cries and offering comfort. His touch conveys that there is no need for apologies, even without words. Leaning in, he whispers into your ear, his voice soft and reassuring, "This will remain between you and me, sweetheart."
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the-kaedageist · 7 months
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congrats on hitting your follower milestone!! for a CR short fic prompt, how about shadowgast where essek is learning to coexist with caleb's cats? :)
I'm emerging from the abyss to answer this prompt 11 months later, but I hope you enjoy! I also believe someone else had Caleb having a cat named Gretchen before me and my brain borrowed it from someone; apologies, it just fit so well.
“Ah,” says Caleb when Essek arrives for their weekly meeting. “Since you were here last, I have acquired another housemate.”
This feels like a somewhat alarming statement. Thankfully, the suspense is not held for long - a moment later, a calico cat makes her way daintily into the room with them, stares up at Essek, and hisses.
“Gretchen,” Caleb scolds, along with a long string of Zemnian that Essek’s rudimentary skills can’t hope to follow. He’s just about mastered ‘please’, ‘thank you’, and some of the major foods; nowhere near native-speaker-speaking-to-his-cat level.
Essek tries not to be offended at being hissed at, even as he can feel his own ears flicking back behind his head in annoyance. “I have done nothing to you,” he says to the cat.
“She is scared,” says Caleb, reaching down to scritch the calico’s ears. She glares at Essek but submits happily to the pets. “She will get used to you.”
The cat eyes him like a particularly unpleasant thing that has been dropped on the floor. Well, Essek thinks, he has certainly had nemeses before. What is one more?
The situation does not improve from there. Every week, Essek Teleports to Caleb’s house, and every week, Gretchen acts as though Essek has offended her to the very depths of her being. (It probably doesn’t help that the third time this happened, Essek hissed back.)
By the end of the first month, Essek despairs that he will ever have a good relationship with Caleb’s animal companion.
At night, when he’s downstairs studying and Caleb is asleep, Essek sneaks back upstairs to find Gretchen curled up at Caleb’s side, purring happily. When Caleb is reading on the couch and Essek is attempting to cook in the kitchen, he peeks in to find Gretchen stubbornly attempting to seat herself in the middle of Caleb’s book, to Caleb’s laughter.
It seems that although they loathe one another, he and Gretchen share a love of the same man. Surely there is common ground they can find.
One night, Yasha and Beau come over for dinner. Gretchen is ambivalent about Beau (although no hissing is involved), but she waltzes right up to Yasha and starts headbutting her ankle.
“Oooh, hello, little beauty,” Yasha says, reaching down to scratch her cheek. Gretchen stares up at her adoringly. Essek also stares at her, aghast and betrayed.
“What is this?” he asks like a spurned lover.
“What is what?” Beau asked. She glanced over at Yasha. “Oh, the cat? She loves Yasha. For obvious reasons, of course.”
Essek rolls his eyes. “I thought she did not like strangers.”
Beau blinks. Her eyes narrow and her mouth stretches into a smirk. “Does the cat not like you, Essek?”
“No,” Essek denies quickly. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He quickly makes an exit to the kitchen, making excuses about checking the soup, before he can be pestered further.
That is when he begins to wonder what he’s doing wrong.
First, he tries dressing more comfortably for his trips to Caleb’s. Perhaps, Gretchen is intimidated by the points on his mantle and the finery of his robes – is that a thing cats care about? The only cats Essek has ever encountered have been moorbounders, and usually they care more about the quality of their meal.
Unfortunately, even in loose pants and a soft shirt, Gretchen still glares and hides from him on his next visit. Caleb seems to appreciate the change though, pulling Essek into his arms and cuddling with him more than normal, and Essek makes a mental note that perhaps more comfortable clothing was in order regardless of the cat’s opinion.
Next, he attempts to determine if Yasha has bribed the cat for her love. He does research and discovers that cats are known to love meat and fish. The next week, when he Teleports into Caleb’s house, he pulls out a handkerchief with some pieces of fish stashed inside and lays it out on the floor. Gretchen does her usual routine of glaring at him while growling before she slowly approaches to sniff the food.
Caleb looks amused. “You brought a present?”
Essek shrugs, feeling heat on the back of his neck. “She is part of your family.”
Gretchen eats up every morsel of fish, to Essek’s relief. However, once her meal is complete, she goes back to hissing and glowering as though no offering had ever been made.
Essek is starting to feel a bit offended. This feels personal.
One night, he cuddles up with Caleb, dejected, as Caleb strokes his hands through Essek’s hair and coils a curl around his finger. “You are quieter than usual,” says Caleb. “Is something wrong?”
Essek glances up at him through his lashes. “Gretchen does not like me.”
Caleb says, “hmm” and continues to stroke Essek’s hair. “I have thought much about this, and I think she sees you as another cat.”
This is not something Essek has ever considered. “Another cat?” he echoes, surprised.
Caleb presses a kiss to his hairline. “You have cat-like mannerisms. You are prickly and picky and beautiful. Does it surprise you at all?”
Essek thinks for a moment; perhaps it does make some sort of strange sense. “So if I am another cat, how do I win her affection?” he asks at last.
“Well,” says Caleb, “ideally I would have put you both in adjoining rooms and let you sniff each other under the door.”
Essek gives him an unamused look. “Caleb Widogast, I am not actually a cat.”
Caleb tousles his hair with a small chuckle. “Ja, of course. Then I would say…be around her. In, ah, her orbit, so to speak. Give her space, but be present and let her get used to you.”
“I have been present,” says Essek petulantly. “She does not like me.”
Caleb shakes his head. “You either approach her head-on or you give her a wide berth – understandable, but I do not think it helps.” He lays his forehead against Essek’s curls. “You are stubborn. You will find a way.”
And slowly, Essek does.
He continues to bring Gretchen fish, but retreats beyond arm’s reach so that she can eat without feeling threatened. He is careful to seat himself within her watchful gaze when she is near, so that she will know his location. He stops trying to befriend and starts letting her be, and Caleb had been right – once he gives her the space to get to know him on her own terms, Gretchen finally, finally begins to thaw.
The first day she approaches him after her fish treat and lets him tentatively reach down to scratch her ears, Essek feels as though he’d been rewarded with a monumental gift. He meets Caleb’s gaze – and Caleb smiles sappily at him, as though all he’d ever wanted for his life was Essek and a cat, in this little house, with everyone getting along.
“You see?” Essek says to Gretchen. “I am not so bad.”
She turns around to show him her butthole and trots away with her tail held high. Essek laughs. “Perhaps we still have some ways to go.”
Caleb wraps an arm around his shoulders. “It takes time,” he says sagely, and Essek can do nothing more than laugh exasperatedly and press a kiss to his cheek.
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sunderwight · 17 days
Text
crack scum villain theory: there is no "original" Shang Qinghua
how this works is, neither the world of SV nor the world of PIDW actually existed in any tangible sense before Airplane died. Airplane dying was actually the catalyst for the system, and whatever unfathomable cosmic entities are behind it, to recreate the world from the novel. that's why Airplane transmigrates into an infant, and also why the world mostly follows canon up until Airplane interacts too much with actual plot-relevant characters, and accidentally butterfly effects Shen Jiu into a fatal qi deviation. At which point the system determines that a dead Shen Qingqiu makes fulfilling the basic story requirements impossible or at least dangerously low in terms of odds, and brings in the second play (User 002, Shen Yuan).
SY is able to earn more points from the system than Airplane, but that's mostly thanks to his proximity to the protagonist not actual preferential treatment, and he seems to have more concrete restrictions on his behavior and limits on his mobility (OOC lock, entering into an already-established character, and of course being forced to ensure that Luo Binghe goes into the Endless Abyss) (this does make it ironic that he ultimately changes the most things). whereas Airplane seems to have more freedom to do as he pleases. the system doesn't even seem to dock him points for accidentally contributing to the death of a vitally plot-relevant character.
so the SV world was originally supposed to more or less just be the same as the PIDW world. it didn't change to any significant degree until Shen Jiu died.
I suspect, then, that the PIDW world which followed canon didn't exist as any kind of separate reality until Shen Jiu died of a fatal qi deviation and had to be replaced. at which point the system -- perhaps hedging its bets -- created two splintered timelines. one being the original sandbox for Airplane to play in and continue to alter, the other being a manufactured reflection of the story's original outcome, possibly to serve as some kind of emergency back-up character bank or reference outline.
which means that the PIDW version of this reality isn't a full and cohesive world. though of course the people there don't know that. it's mostly just a tool for the system, which is why we first encounter Bingge being utilized as an enforcer. Bingge and everyone else who exists in the PIDW reality, they all remember their past as the story and are at the end point of what Airplane had written, but none of it actually happened. they instead sprang into existence at their narrative end point.
since the Shang Qinghua of Airplane's novel died well before the end of the story, characters in the PIDW have various recollections of a "Shang Qinghua" and his death, but they are vague and ultimately do not reflect the tangible events of a world the way that the SV timeline does. they are artificial memories based on a story. PIDW Shen Jiu likewise never really existed, although SV Shen Jiu did. similarly, all the history of the SV world that supposedly happened before Shang Qinghua was born never actually happened either. that's all constructed as well, which means that in a weird kind of a way, no one in the world can actually be older than Shang Qinghua either. they can only have manufactured memories that give them that impression. which means Airplane is the oldest being in that entire universe. he'd even be older than his own parents, because they were created to be his parents the moment he was born.
so there's no other Shang Qinghua. everything prior to Airplane's transmigration in the SV world and prior to the last PIDW chapter in the PIDW world is like when a video game designer seeds a dungeon with a skeleton and a bunch of notes about how some lone adventurer got lost and died there. at no point in the game was there ever actually a live adventurer in place of that skeleton.
that's "original" Shang Qinghua. he doesn't exist, because in one reality he's only ever been a version of Airplane, and in another he's a skeleton in a video game dungeon.
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