#sobbing I must know what happens next do they go to each other it seemed like haein was about to move off the stage and go towards hyunwoo

[taro-tk22]

She said “my husband” and the waterworks started falling, haein the woman that you are, that will go to any lengths to protect her HUSBAND.

[pucksandpower]

Mad World

Logan Sargeant x Vowles!Reader

Summary: no matter how cruel the rest of the world may seem, Logan will always have a home with you

Logan stares blankly at James Vowles, unable to process the words coming out of his team principal’s mouth.

“I’m … I’m sorry, what?” Logan stammers, his heart pounding. This can’t be happening.

James looks immensely uncomfortable but pushes on. “Alex needs your chassis since his is too damaged and the team does not have a spare. You’ll have to withdraw from the race weekend.”

The room falls into an oppressive silence as the words sink in. Logan can feel his chance at remaining in Formula 1 next year slipping away with each agonizing second. Why is he being punished for a crash that wasn’t his fault? The questions swirl dizzily in his mind.

James regards him with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s no other way ...”

The words hit Logan like a punch to the gut. He stares at James, numb, his mind spinning. After a long silence, he nods mutely and forces out, “I … I need a minute.” His feet move without conscious thought, carrying him blindly down the corridors as burning tears blur his vision.

Logan’s heart pounds in his chest as he rushes through the hallway, tears streaming down his face. He can barely see where he’s going as he barrels toward his driver’s room. His breaths come in ragged gasps, the weight of James’ words crushing him.

How could they do this to him? After everything?

He fumbles with the handle, finally wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind him. Logan leans back against it, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. Sobs wrack his body as the reality sinks in — he’s out for the weekend because of someone else’s mistake.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair.

His career, his dreams, his entire future flashing before his eyes, slipping away because Williams can’t get their act together. Why did they even re-sign him if they have so little faith? The questions swirl in his mind, only compounded by the hurt and anger burning in his chest.

Logan stays like that for who knows how long, gasping for air between cries that feel like they’re literally tearing him apart from the inside.

He’s so consumed by emotion that he doesn’t hear the tentative knock at first. When it comes again, louder this time, he jolts slightly, raising a hand to wipe uselessly at his tear-streaked face.

With trembling fingers, he pulls open the door, and you’re standing there. The mere sight of you breaks through the haze of devastation, if only for a moment.

You step inside without a word, wrapping your arms around him, and the dam breaks again. Fresh sobs spill out as Logan crumples against your chest, clinging to you like a lifeline while you softly hush him, guiding the two of you to the couch.

You maneuver him gently until his head is cradled in your lap, your fingers combing soothingly through his hair. “I came as soon as I heard,” you murmur, voice thick with shared pain. “I can’t believe they would do this to you because of their own mistakes. It’s not right.”

Logan tries to speak, to voice the turmoil inside him, but all that comes out is a strangled, “Why? I don’t … I don’t understand. It’s not my fault, so why am I being punished?” His words dissolve into hiccuping gasps. “They must not have faith in me at all. This … this is it, isn’t it? The end.”

You shush him again, cupping his face to brush the tears away with your thumbs. “Don’t think like that. The team is the one in the wrong here, not you.”

But the storm won’t be quelled so easily. Logan sits up abruptly, putting distance between you despite how his heart aches at the loss of your touch. “But soon I won’t even be a driver anymore,” he chokes out, meeting your eyes with his own reddened, devastated gaze. “You shouldn’t … you deserve so much better than me, Y/N. Better than someone whose career is over before it even started.”

“Logan Sargeant, don’t you dare say that.” You’re on your feet in an instant, hands on your hips in a stance he knows all too well — the fierce protectiveness that still makes his heart flutter, even now. “I am with you because I love you, every amazing, incredible part of you. Not because you’re an F1 driver, but because of the person you are.”

He can only gape at you, stunned into silence by the intensity of your words, the unwavering certainty in your tone. You step closer, cupping his face again, making him meet the blazing love and conviction in your eyes.

“I don’t care if you never race again, though you know I believe in you with everything I have. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? We’re in this together, always, no matter what.” You press your lips to his brow, his cheeks, finally claiming his mouth in a searing kiss that leaves him dizzy. “I love you,” you breathe against his lips. “I love you so much, Logan.”

He’s dumbstruck, overwhelmed by the ferocity of your devotion, even in the face of his lowest moment. How did he get so lucky as to have you in his life? In a heartbeat, Logan is kissing you again, tears of a different kind streaking his cheeks as he murmurs the words over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you ...”

Eventually, you guide him back until he’s lying down on the couch once more, placing a small pillow under his head. “Get some rest, babe. You’ve been through the ringer today.”

He catches your hand before you can move away fully. “Where are you going?”

The fiery look in your eye makes his stomach flip. “I need to go have a … conversation … with my father.”

Logan lets out a teary laugh at your protective fierceness — one of the many things he loves most about you. “Yes ma’am.”

Leaning down, you brush one last lingering kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As you turn and head for the door, Logan feels his heart swell watching your receding form. For all the hurt today has brought, he knows more than ever that he’s the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side.

As Logan drifts into an exhausted doze, his last conscious thoughts are of you — his forever, his everything — and how lucky he is to have such an amazing love in his life.

No matter what happens next.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hi! What do you think would happen if there was a disease that turned people into yanderes and the reader is immune? So she’s the only sane one, which everyone around her falls in love (romantically and platonically) and turns obsessive?

Hrmm I'd like to take a different approach to this than the original *yandere apocolypse* of which I was thinking. Just wrote down some odd thoughts for this one!

Perhaps two thirds of the world has been inflicted with this specific disease-- making this new population become violent, deranged and utterly--obsessively, in love.

There's the beginning stages of violence and death of course, causing a great chunk of the world to go mad as some yanderes who must share a darling cannot do so. Celebrities, idols, and your local barista who's friends with everyone in town, are constantly in a tug of war battle between their yanderes.

But life seems to somewhat settle down. Everyone still functions as they would in society-- going to the bank and paying their taxes, remaining at their 9 to 5 jobs. But there are far more murders, laws are no longer followed; the daytime has become just as dangerous as the night.

Our dear reader, a cashier for a chain grocery store, has so blessedly not been affected by this newfound disease. They know their residence in a large city and with a social job would not leave them unharmed by this new change to the world. So, they begin to attend support groups for 'darlings,' the victims and (mostly) sane population that has been left. At first the other victims were people they had never seen before, seemingly innocent and normal people who just wanted to go on with their lives. They all seemed to lead a much harder living, with their unending stalkers and vicious pursuers that made them sob for hours as everyone else listened to their woes.

Reader had yet to be targeted, of which offers them a sliver of relief-- until they fear perhaps they have been affected by the disease. But their life continues, without any impulse or desire to snatch anyone up, and without any stalkers or murderers on their trail. Life is almost, weirdly, normal.

They don't watch the news anymore, they go home before it gets dark, and refuse to take any extra shifts with anyone who's been affected by the outbreak. They continue to go to the meetings, out of solidarity and precaution in case they begin to hear footsteps behind them when walking from home or find eyes peeping behind their curtains. However, the support group seemed to have slowly begun to change. Its regular members were beginning to dwindle, less and less showing up regularly. And, there seemed to be an addition of.... hostility, amongst the newer members.

The support group "leader", a man who has thrown reader off since day one, seemed to be far more invested in hearing their experiences with these "attackers" as he called them. As was everyone else, of which were slowly becoming vaguely familiar faces. Not familiar enough to mention it, but to the point where it was beginning to get eerie.

It wasn't until they went to their next shift for work, did they realize why everyone seemed so odd. Customer after customer came up, all purchasing odds and ends that could be suspicious if one paid close enough attention. But all that reader could focus on, was how the eyes of each person seemed to linger upon them, taking notice of their loose work shirt and unkempt hair. It was a common sound to hear heavy breathing from the other side of the counter, odd compliments on how beautiful their eyes were, or deafening silence from customers that didn't utter a word but stared in complete captivity. The next support group meeting, those nameless faces seemed to be far more recognizable. At this point, the original members of which reader had originally met, were nowehere to be found. All that remained, were the uncomfortably familiar customers, and the oddly charismatic leader.

Every eye seemed to be on them, each waiting for them to speak on their experience. But despite the creepy, lustful gazes and hateful glares at one another, there was some form of supportiveness that came from the group. They gave reassuring pats and squeezes, some getting a little handsier than others.

There were a few that reader recognized more than others: the silent, dark haired man that came to their register everyday, the businesswoman who always seemed to loosen her scowl once she saw them, and the couple who seemed a tad more than "friendly." Out of all of them though, reader felt the most reassurance from the group leader-- the man who seemed to dote on them like a parent would, though there was still fear over his constantly nagging questions and downward stare behind his glasses.

It was once reader decided to stop showing up to the increasingly more recent group sessions, did things start to turn sideways. There would constantly be a knock at the door, asking why they weren't there, if something was wrong, if a stalker had gotten to them. But it wasnt until recently did they feel they were being watched, followed, stalked.

Things started to go missing, from their favorite pair of underwear to little knickknacks kept on their desk. Reader had never felt the effects of the disease and its victims, but ever since the uncomfortable shift in the support group, life hadn't been the same.

One fateful afternoon, there came another series of knocks. Reader couldn't take it anymore, and had long given up on answering the door. The knocking continued, however. Thered be a pause, a moment of hesitation, before the pounding began again. Muffled voices could be heard outside readers front door, and suddenly there grew a great fear in their chest.

Not long after, the knocking seemed to occur in other areas around the house. The backdoor echoed as glass was banged on, the windows of their bedroom seemingly pressured by fists that begged to be let in. Their name was called from outside, small and booming voices all begging to be let in, promising that they were only there to help.

Reader covered their ears, crawling under the blankets and rocking themselves to the hope that the noise would go away. And eventually, It did-- only to be replaced with the sound of shattering glass and rushed footsteps.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eleven

summary: you receive bad news, but luca is there for you. and it seems like he's intent on continuing to be there for you.

warnings: angst, grief, death, vomiting, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (specifically 'how to mend a broken heart' - al green & 'love' - kendrick lamar; another very will poulter-coded choice)

a/n: pov: it's me warning you that there is in fact angst but trust, babes. trust. after the trauma of meeting donna b in season 2, i wanted to explore characters who had positive relationships with their mothers. so if you have not picked up on it yet, this story is also about mothers **cries because it's too damn sweet. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part ten | masterlist | part twelve

Astrid: Hey give me a call when you’re up. 

I don’t want to worry you, but we need to talk. 

Your fingers hurriedly move to open up the multiple missed notifications that you have from her, holding the phone up to your ear so that you can listen to her voicemail next. 

“Hey… I know you’re probably still asleep right now,” you hear, her voice somber, as you listen to Astrid’s voicemail, left for you at three in the morning. “And I know that you’ve got your do not disturb on. But I really need to talk. Call me when you’re up.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races with fears over what this could be about, and as your eyes scroll through the other missed notifications, you see something that stops you in your tracks: 

1 Missed Call from Joe

And it all suddenly feels real, a sense of dread fills your throat, and you can only imagine that it must be an emergency if both Astrid and Joe have called. Your mind races. It can’t be about Joe – if he called too, right?

The severity of the situation forces you to sit up straight as you steal a glance Luca’s way. You’re grateful that he’s such a heavy sleeper as you peel the covers back, tiptoeing out into the living room so that you don’t wake Luca. Your fingers shake as they hover over Astrid’s name, before tapping down on the screen so that you can give her a call back. 

It only rings twice before Astrid answers, a tiredness in the way her voice sounds, as if she hasn’t slept all night. 

“Hey, Astrid. What’s going on?” you ask, a panic that colors your voice as you wait for her reply. 

The anticipation builds in every moment of silence she leaves between the two of you. 

“It’s mum. Ehm…” she trails off, her voice breaking. 

No. 

It’s as if your worst nightmare is coming true – like no matter how many times you’ve rehearsed this scenario in your head, prepared for it, braced for it, nothing softens the blow of the words that Astrid utters. 

“She’s gone. She passed. Early this morning,” Astrid finally says, a sob following. “We’re still at the hospital right now.” 

As Astrid begins to cry, you let her, even though you feel like you can’t breathe. Through her tears, she tries her best to explain what happened and you can feel yourself going numb as you listen. You can barely process what she’s saying as the words wash over you, a deep pain building in your belly with each detail she shares: that mum hadn’t been feeling well late last night, that she had a fever of 104 F and that’s when they knew she had to be taken to the hospital, that she passed a few hours later. 

It was sudden. 

It was quick. 

And now, Astrid’s whole world – your whole world, and Joe’s – has changed forever.

All you can do is attempt to breathe, to listen, and try your best not to drop your phone as your hands tremble.

You can feel it, a sickening feeling that wells up from your belly and into your throat as you croak out:

“Astrid, I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through, all the rounds of chemo… I just can’t believe that overnight she’s gone,” Astrid whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I just-, I thought we’d have more time.”

“I know. Me too,” you agree quietly. 

It doesn’t feel real, and you wonder if you’re just in denial. 

“I’m so sorry to call like this. But I thought you should know,” Astrid apologizes, clearing her throat as she continues. “‘M sure I ruined your high from the all-night shag-fest with the hot pastry chef, now didn’t I?”

You chuckle, in response to her attempt to lighten the mood. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called,” you reassure her, your voice soft. 

“I’ve got to go. Joe and I are going to try to grab something to eat and ehm, try to get a hold of Lina. I’ll keep you posted on everything. On all the details, you know… about… anything we do,” Astrid informs you, trying her best to pull herself together.  

“But I just wanted you to know and ehm, well, I know Joe called.”

“No, I-. Yeah,” you stammer through, at a loss for words. “I… I’ll give him a call. And thank you… for calling me. Thank you for telling me.”

Astrid nods solemnly, “She loved you like one of us.”

You swallow, as a stream of tears streak your cheeks 

“Yeah I… I love – loved – her too.” 

You clear your throat, unaware that your hands have begun to shake. 

“And please keep me posted. I’d like to be there… at the funeral. If you think it’s appropriate.”

“‘Course,” Astrid agrees. “I love you. Call you later?”

“Please. And… yes,” you say, adding if it’s a promise:

“I love you too.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, it’s as if your body knows something you don’t – like your brain hasn’t quite processed the news, racing your body to intellectualize everything you’ve just heard, so your body has to take over instead. Your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. You sprint to your small apartment bathroom, throwing the toilet seat up with a clang as you begin to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, in an uncontrollable physical response.

The sound of you retching, coughing up the last of it, seems to wake up Luca. You brace yourself against the toilet, flushing it as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your body feels fragile and your mind races as you reach behind you for the towel that lays folded over your towel bar, clutching it towards you. 

“My love, is everything alright?” you hear his voice, as Luca stirs, sitting up in bed. 

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you fill your ears, and as they get closer and closer to you, Luca appears in the doorway, his eyes squinting from how jarring of a wakeup he’s just had. You look up at him, noticing the way his face has twisted itself into a look of concern, swallowing as you rack your brain, searching for a way to explain what just happened. 

“Well, the good news is that I’m not pregnant,” is all that comes out, in sheer disbelief that you’ve chosen to make a joke at this moment. Luca only looks more concerned, more worried, more confused, so you shake your head this time, muttering an apology under your breath. “Uh… remember when I told you… my ex’s mom… she got really sick and we had to move to the UK because of it?”

“Yeah,” he answers, unsure of what this has to do with why you’re stuck to the bathroom floor. 

“I-. Astrid, his sister, just called. She uh…” you trail off, because it feels like you can’t get the words out of your mouth – like if you say it out loud, it’d make it all the more real. 

Your voice, this time much somber, croaks out the words, and you feel sick to your stomach again.

“She passed… last night,” you finally say again, a wave of nausea coming over you. 

“Oh, my love,” Luca sighs empathetically, as his heart falls at the news. “I’m so sorry.”

But before he can say anything else, you’re folded over the toilet once more, caught up in a competition with your own body of which could be worse: dry heaving or vomiting. Instead of leaving, Luca takes a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you as he rubs soothing patterns across your back, as you work this out. What feels like forever, and simultaneously, barely a few seconds, your back is pressed against the wall as you try your best to get your heart rate back down. 

The cold floor and the rigid wall that you’ve pressed your back against feels grounding, perhaps the only thing tethering you to this world. Luca sits with you quietly, but his presence can be felt in tonnes. It’s strong, steady, comforting, with care and love in every single touch and touch he sends your way. 

After a few minutes of letting you stare at the wall blankly, Luca gets up, kneeling on his knees as he offers his hands to you. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you some water and back into bed,” Luca suggests. “I’ll call Jesper and Mathilde. Let them know you’re not going in today.”

You nod, sliding both of your hands into his as he helps to your feet. 

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

“How are you doing, babe?” Luca asks you, as you wake up from your nap. 

You’re grateful that he called in today, after the news, and called in for you as well. After your phone call with Astrid, not to mention hurling the entire contents of your stomach (and then some) into the toilet this morning, you’d crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. It hadn’t been great sleep – more so an avoidance mechanism than anything else, you realize – as you begin to come to. 

“Jesper was just here. Came by to drop off food,” Luca adds, as you move onto your side so that you can face him. “They’re worried about you.”

“I’m not hungry,” is all you manage to say. 

He nods, “For later maybe.” 

He pauses, before repeating his question from earlier. 

“How are you doing? What can I do?

You think it over, only slightly upset with yourself for being annoyed at his question. Of course he’s only trying to be helpful, only trying to care for you through this horrible thing. But it’s not like there’s anything he can do to take your pain away either, which, it’s silly you know, is what bothers you so much about his ask. 

But as you look over at the man who wants nothing more than to love you, and you know he’s only trying to be helpful in an unwinnable situation.

You muster up your best smile, because you want to reassure him that you’re sort of-kind-of-okay, and you’d rather try than be a jerk right now. 

“Come back to bed?” you ask him, your voice lifting at the end of the question. “I think I just want you to hold me.”

“Sounds like something that could be arranged,” Luca replies with a smile on his face, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. 

As you lay on your side, Luca curls up behind you, engulfing you in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. And you’re right. It does make you feel better – being held by him – and you’re glad that you chose not to push him away. 

After a few beats, and a thick silence between the two of you, Luca finally speaks again.

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

Do you?

You debate with yourself whether or not you want to, because on one hand you feel weird about it – asking Luca to listen to you talk about how much you loved your ex husband’s mother – and on the other, you’re afraid. 

Afraid it’ll hurt too much. 

Afraid it may break you open. 

Eventually, the part of you that leans towards saying ‘yes’ wins, as you answer with:

“Yeah. I think that might be helpful.” 

Luca nods behind you, before nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and your shoulders. He leaves soft kisses against your skin that have no intention of being anything but a comforting gesture. 

“Astrid said something on the phone earlier. That she loved me like one of them,” you start, your voice caught in your throat as you say it. 

“And she did. She embraced me as her own… like…” you trail off, chuckling as you recall your favorite memories of Aiko Kimura. 

“She was beyond upset to learn that I didn’t grow up pleating dumplings around the table when I was a kid, which was… I think maybe the first thing we ever cooked together. She pulled out all the stops. Made a huge thing of it and made Joe, Astrid, and Lina join us so that I could get the real family experience.”

“And every time after that… she always wanted to teach me something new, something I could learn, carry with me,” you continue, the memories so fond and the feeling so bittersweet. 

“She was all about… slowing down, using the senses, no-recipe kind of stuff. I think it’s where I got so much of my heart from. In my food.”

You’re really not sure how you’re keeping it together, but, you decide, you might as well lean into the sweetness for now. 

“I should do a dish. For her. At the restaurant,” you declare, coming to the conclusion as the words leave your lips. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Luca agrees, leaving another soft kiss along your shoulder. 

“To honor her. You know?” you add. 

Luca only hums in response, his arms wrapped around your frame holding you tighter against his chest. 

You wait a beat. 

Then another, your thoughts, moving a mile a minute from being plunged into grief from this devastating loss. 

“I’m nervous – about going to London,” you confess, softly. You like to ask, usually, if it’s okay – if Luca wants to hear about these kinds of things – but it feels virtually unavoidable. 

“I haven’t been back since Joe and I divorced… since I moved here. But I think I should. For the funeral.”

“Do you think it’ll be soon?” Luca asks, as you turn your head to look at him, checking that this is a conversation he’s willing to have. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I’m waiting for Astrid to tell me. But Lina’s, their youngest sister, has been studying abroad – Singapore – so… I don’t know.”

“I’m just nervous… about it all, I guess. A lot’s changed. I’ve… changed.”

At this point you’re just thinking out loud, no longer able to contain the stream of consciousness that flows from with an ease that makes you anxious. 

Of course, you’ve changed. You have a new life here. You’re a you that you’ve never been before, having shed the layers of your past self like a snake shedding its skin. The realization is striking, while your ambivalence to return to your previous home in your new form feels more and more significant. 

It’s Luca’s turn to be quiet as he thinks over whether or not the idea in his head is appropriate to suggest, figuring, the worst thing you can do is say ‘no.’ 

“I could go with you,” he offers, quiet, yet sure. 

Oh. 

“But if you don’t feel like it would be right… under the circumstances…” Luca continues, in fear of making things more complicated for you. 

“No I-. What do you-, like… in what capacity?” you interject, hesitant about the question that you’re bringing up. 

You’re not sure why it’s taken this long for either of you to articulate it, especially since you’ve already called him your boyfriend to your friends, to your mom, but the naming, the voicing of the sacred label is still something you haven’t done. 

You don’t want to overcomplicate things, considering it already feels complicated, so what you’re really asking him is:

How would I introduce you?

“I was thinking… as your boyfriend,” Luca answers, slowly. “But if you think it’s too much – introducing me during this-.” 

“No, I. Yes! I want to,” you’re quick to reply, reassuring him that you’re still all in, even in the midst of this loss – especially in the midst of this loss. You wiggle your body so that you’re now facing him, your chests pressed together, and you wonder if he can feel yours pounding away. 

“Yes. I want you to come. I… I want to introduce you to them… to everyone, as my boyfriend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Luca leans in to press a short kiss to your lips before nodding in agreement: “Okay.”

You wait a beat, almost as if you think he’ll take it back, considering the circumstances. Only, he doesn’t, so you have to ask. 

“You would really do that?”

“Yeah,” he replies, simply. 

“I mean.. It’s just going to be a lot. It’s… a fucking funeral,” you continue to list, giving him every ‘out’ that you can possibly think of. “And you’d have to meet Joe. Which I can only imagine will be incredibly uncomfortable considering the circumstances and I’m not even sure what to expect because Joe and I have barely talked in months and I-.” 

You know you’re rambling, but you can’t help yourself. 

“Luca, I don’t know if I can ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, my love. I offered,” he says, as one of his hands cradles your head, his eyes on yours. 

“Plus, I don’t have to be with you the whole time. I know it’s going to be a tough trip for a lot of reasons. I could give you some space while we’re there too, so you don’t feel you have to entertain me. I’ll go see my mum, catch up with a friend….”

His reassurance seems to quell your nerves and you’re no longer panicking (as much) about introducing your people to your new boyfriend while grieving the loss of their matriarch. But you want him there. You so want him there. You want his support, and when he’s so willingly offering it to you, volunteering to enter the lion’s den with you, how can you say ‘no?’

“Why are you so good to me?” is all that comes out of your mouth. 

“Because I-,” Luca begins, pausing as he carefully chooses his next few words. You watch as he debates with himself, his decision clear when he opens his mouth again to say:

“Because you deserve it, babe.”

It’s then and there that you wonder what he was going to say before, half expecting him to say, ‘because I love you.’ 

But he doesn’t, and in some ways, you’re glad that whatever internal decision he made, that it wasn’t that. It’s not that you don’t want him to, because you’ve been feeling it too. It’s in every pause before you hang up the phone with him. It’s in the moments that you say your goodbyes for the morning or the evening that you watch the impulse, though fleeting, flash through his eyes. It’s in the way that you feel it so deeply in your bones that it makes you ache in the best kinds of ways. 

 You don’t want your first ‘I love you’ to be tainted with the grief and sadness surrounding this moment, but it’s been on your mind ever since your trip to Skagen. You think maybe you dreamed it, hearing him call you the love of his life, but whether or not it was real, those three words have hung heavily between the two of you ever since. 

“Thank you,” is all you say, before you repeat it again. 

“Thank you.”

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

Everything feels off. You can’t cry. 

And you’ve tried. 

But ever since Luca left to run an errand, to run to the store, you’ve felt off-kilter. 

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had him to distract you this whole time. 

Perhaps it’s because you’re trying to be strong for everyone: for Astrid, for Lina, who you’ve been texting with all day – trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime – for yourself. 

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t called Joe yet. 

But, you’ve decided, you really need to cry. 

You pick up the phone, knowing exactly what you need to do, knowing exactly who you can let yourself completely fall apart with. 

The phone rings a few times before the person on the other line picks up, and as soon as you hear the silence on the other line, waiting for you to speak first since you called first. 

“Mom?”

And she can hear it in your voice as it breaks, concern and worry filling her every word and she asks: 

“Oh sweetie. What happened?”

And finally, you can let go.

[thebottomfromhell]

Hi, i would like to request a hantengu clones (you can add zohakuten or original hantengu) x (any gender) reader, so reader is (most of the time or maybe all the time) really really nice but something had snapped inside reader, they/he/she go all mad because of an argument or maybe something had happened with someone they had bumped into.

I will use GN for this one, I hope nobody minds. I also disn't know if this meant individually, but I took it as if you wanted a drabble... I hope I was right and that you like this work.

GN nice reader snaps at the Hantengu Clones (ft. Hantengu) after a bad day

Warnings: Polyamory, Implied Self-cest (due a poly, nothing about it actually there), Angst.

You don't like too much attention or to cause trouble, you also hate treating others badly, even when they deserve it. For all of that, more often than not you tend to hold your tongue and keep your mouth shut everytime you get angry, and if the situation doesn't get better you leave the space and go back the second you manage to calm down. Sometimes it works better than others, there are still time you got to face the situation still angry, but having your time and space always help.

Today, though? It was a nightmare. It seemed everything and everyone today needed you urgently, didn't give you any time to even eat or drink something, and for some reason more than one people had the urge to talk back to you today for stupid things. Now you are tired, hungry, resented... this doesn't help. This days has already ended, you are unsatisfied about it, yet, you don't have it in you to do something about it.

It doesn't help that you know what is waiting for you at home, Hantengu and his clones. Don't misunderstand, you adore these guys, to the point you are in a romantic relationship with the clones, sometimes you even feel like the owner of a harem with them around, but... they are pretty handy. Not only by their nature of being a human flesh eating demon that burns under the sun, but the fact that they are the personification of an specific emotion each, some even opposites to each others. Because of that, the fact that they act up on that emotion and clash with each other is to be expected, so you are the one who must put order in your own home.

So you sigh as you get home, contemplating just... staying outside or going to an inn to spend the night. You can imagina already Karaku and Sekido making a mess in their arguments, Urogi clinging to you, Hantengu sobbing with no end and and Aizetsu... well, Aizetsu will not do anything wrong but he also won't be helpful at all, and you are not in position to really care about it.

Then, the door opens and you need to swallow a groan of frustration when Urogi comes out and gets on top of you. "Y/N! Y/N! You're home!" Usually you would find this endearing and cute, but you are not in the mood. "Yeah, I'm home..." you say tired as you support yourself with the wall as you get in, not even bothering in closing the door behind you. If someone or something gets in then there is a demon to face, not that it matters. "Welcome." You nod at it, too tired to actually answer, even worse with Urogi on top of you. Aizetsu tilts his head but he doesn't say anything else, just close his eyes and keep himself to and for himself. Most likely bracing himself for the next part.

"You DISGUSTING PIG! I'l KILL YOU, Karaku!" You hear ceramics break, well, there goes a tea cup. "C'mon, Sekido. We both know you are just jealou-" the sound of flesh being penetrated and a liquid splashing in a surface interrupt him, and now you gotta clean your kitchen. Oh joy, that is sarcasm. Usually, you would try to ask what is going on and intervene before they break something actually vauable or needed in the household, but right now you are becoming every time more frustrated. "Eeeeeck! It wasn't me! It wasn't me!"

Breath... count to ten... anything... just don't- "CUT IT OUT, FUCKING-!" you shut yourself up before finishing the sentence, making everyone look at you, making you feel embarrased, making the anger fade away into a more miserable feeling. You want to cry, scream into a pillow, be comforted, to sleep, to eat. You don't want this. Why is your day hoing so bad? "I'm sorry..." you whisper as you cower away, face a bit heated, eyes a bit blurry and throat with a knot that starts to fill your nose with the need to sob.

Urogi gets off you to see you as the others also get close, minus Hantengu, he keeps cowering away, but at least has the decency to cover his own sobs. "Y/N, are you ok?" "Shhhh, shhh, babe, it's ok. Let's go to sit down." Aizetsu is the one who grab you and guide you to sit as the other stares. "Stay here. I'll bring tea." But you don't want tea, amd that sounded ungrateful to yourself. There is a moment that the only noise are your contained sobs as the other clones see you, making you cover your face with your hands put of shame, only rubbing your nose and eyes.

"Karaku. Urogi. Take some steps back!" They do, giving you a bit more of space. "Bad day?" He ask, softer, to you, as you can only nod with the soreness in your throat and the lack of trust you have in not starting to cry right away. "Is there anything we can do?" You shake your head as Aizetsu puts the tea in fron mt of you and Karaku streches a hand to pat your back. You stay like this for a while, until you fall asleep with them tryibg to comfort you.

It really sucked.

[0cta9on]

Fluffy thoughts of NMIXX consoling and pampering their bodyguard after he got dumped by his gf?

Hello anon! Love me some Nmixx :] I won't add Kyujin even tho it's a fluff ask, it feels too soon still

Haewon

"HI-YAH!" Haewon jumps on your back like she always does, pulling you into an impromptu piggyback. Usually you would playfully yell at her to get off or jump around until she gets tired, but your heart just isn't in it today. Sensing this, she jumps off your back and looks up at you with a worried expression. "Oppa, what's wrong?" She asks. You explain to her how you get dumped yesterday, recounting every excruciatingly painful detail like it happened just moments ago. "Yah, forget about her, let's go get something good to eat, okay? My treat." Before you can object, she's already yanking your arm towards the nearest restaurant.

Lily

"Oppa, what's wrong? You seem distracted." You open your mouth to answer, but no words come out. Instead, a stream of tears pours down your face uncontrollably, carrying the weight of the last five years with your now ex-girlfriend. Lily sits next to you, no judgement, no advice, no words, just her comforting presence and her hand gently caressing your back. You don't have to speak and she knows that. All she wants to do is be there for you.

Sullyoon

You lean against the wall, blankly staring at the ground as you replay the events of last night in your head over and over again. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. "Oppa, are you okay?" Sullyoon asks. Dejectedly, you relay the story to her - how you walked into your apartment thinking everything was fine, how you saw your girlfriend standing there with a suitcase, how she broke things off and left without much of an explanation. At the end of your explanation, Sullyoon simply wraps her arms around your torso. "I'm sorry, oppa. You must be hurting a lot right now." You sink into her embrace, silently holding her for what feels like hours.

Bae

"She did WHAT!?" Bae exclaims as you show her the breakup text you received this morning. "Where does she live, I'm gonna-" She sees the dispirited look on your face and stops her angry tirade, instead gently caressing your cheek with her palm. "Just forget about her, okay? Let's go do something fun, like the amusement park or the movies. I can't stand seeing you like this." Despite expressing that you just want to stay inside all day, Bae drags you all around the city, taking you to different places to cheer you up. By the end of the night, you barely remember why you felt so sad this morning.

Jiwoo

Jiwoo spots you crying outside of the building and walks towards you, concern painted on her face. "O-oppa? What's wrong, why are you crying?" After calming yourself down a bit, you explain to her what happened, barely keeping yourself together as you do so. By the end of it, both you and Jiwoo are awash with tears, finding solace in each other's arms. "I-I'm so s-sorry, oppa!" She exclaims in between sobs. At least you know you don't have to go through this shitty feeling alone.

[reqxxyt]

distance does nothing g.r

pairings: george r. x f!reader

warnings: some angst

masterlist requests open!

[unedited]

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

I met George when I was only 5 seeking friends in a new neighborhood not expecting to find the one person I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to. He was 6, with bright blue eyes and a cheeky smile that extended to his eyes when he offered me a game of tag. I lost. I never was much of an athlete, only willing to when forced. 

Around the age of 14 and 15, we grew closer as I cheered for him during races already being able to tell this would lead to something great. I was his #1 supporter and he was my best friend. I only got into relationships at the age of 17, having my first kiss with my first boyfriend that I met during one of my classes but separated due to not communicating much. 

During university, George had taken racing more serious while I stayed studying in our hometown preparing for my own future still cheering for him while staying in touch with George. It was only the last year of University where George would start to ignore my messages, declining my calls, and cutting off our weekly facetime. 

Strange. I wondered, not wanting to ask too much of our friendship only being able to imagine how difficult it must be to live the grand life of an F1 race car driver. But either way, I anticipated his next break, knowing it aligned with my own winter break and we could finally talk. Just like when we were younger. 

But that didn’t happen. I tried calling him, it would send me straight to voicemail. My heart tugged, feeling it ache as tears started free falling wondering if I did anything wrong that would cause this to ever happen. I went over our whole friendship that entire day, not being able to focus on my classes that were nearing the end of the semester. 

I only finally gathered the courage to go to his old home, having not seen his parents in a while. They were like a second family to me but it seemed like loosing connection to George had made me lose all connection with his family. I knocked on the door, softly but loud enough to heard feeling my own heart pound against my chest as I waited for anyone to open the door. Wishing there would be a chance that it was George on the other side. 

“Sweetheart, it’s been so long” the hug only lasted a second with a bright smile being exchanged on each others end. 

“It really has” I agreed, not sure if I should ask about their youngest son. “Have you seen George? I tried contacting him but he has’t been responding” 

The older women frowned not knowing what had happened between the two, always loving the little girl and the constant blabbing about her from her son. “No, I’m sorry. Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what” now I grew more worried. Did something happen that he didn’t tell me? 

“He’s moving to Monaco” she said upset at the thought that the two who seemed like soulmates would suddenly stop talking right before George moved. Clear sadness flowed over my face trying to control my emotions from spreading to harshly. 

“Oh” was all I could let out. He didn’t tell me he was leaving. The boy I had met when I was 5 and knew practically everything about me was leaving. I said my farewells, wishing her the best while she carried a pitiful smile. 

The minute I entered my car, tears flowed down my face not able to control them no longer. My heart felt ripped, the boy I had known for nearly 20 years is leaving. The boy I had just started to grow feelings for, had my heart set on, is leaving. 

Right after the sadness flowed, anger rose as memories passed by as if reliving them. I pounded against the wheel, not caring if it let out a honk or two. I wanted to scream but nothing was let out, only quiet sobs where heard, my hands fell to my lap and after almost half an hour I left. 

I left to where I thought I felt the most comfortable. But being alone in my apartment somehow made it worse. The realization that I would be able to do nothing to prevent his distance, thinking he no longer cared about me. 

The next morning I tried to make myself feel better by going out for coffee before realizing I had taken the wrong path, being entertained by my own thoughts that led me to the first place we met. The park filled with dandelions. 

“Make a wish” I giggled, handing the strange looking flower to George. He looked at me with a strange look as I waited before he finally caved in and blew the the small petals (or whatever their called). I wanted to ask what he wished for, so desperately, but I knew if he told me it wouldn’t come true. 

“Can I finally tell you what I wished for?” an all too familiar voice was heard behind me.

I stood frozen, thinking I had to have been hallucinating. Too much wine can do something to a person the morning after. But then I felt his presence beside me, the same cologne I gave him for christmas last year. My eyes started to water again but I suppressed them not wanting to humiliate myself further. 

“I wished to be with you” he said after not earning a response. I looked beside me, having to look up. After a couple of silent moments, he finally looked beside him, making direct eye contact. “That was all I wanted growing up” 

“So why leave?” I didn’t want to sound selfish. It was the best career option for him. But what I mean was; why leave me hanging? He frowned, turning his body to fully face me but I stood still. “Why completely distance yourself George?”

“I was scared. A coward” he shrugged wishing he could get a full view of the girls face. The girl he had been in love with since 17. But never realized until now. He wasn’t even sure how to tell her now, that all he wanted was her with him still. “I regret everytime you called and I washed as it rang but didn’t answer”

A single tear dropped from my eye but I quickly swiped it, not wanting to showcase my emotions but failing miserably. I took in a deep breath before turning, putting my hands in my pockets. But looking at him made it all the more worse. I wanted to ask why but he beat me to it.

“I would make the same wish again” he bent down, picking up a single dandelion but handing it to me. “What do you wish for?”

I couldn’t say anything just accepting the dandelion being handed before finally, while twirling the dandelion whispering “stay”.

He knew what I meant when hearing those words, not intending them to sound selfish. “I only distanced myself because I was scared. Scared that I loved you in a way I didn’t think was possible. I fell in love with you the past years, I was scared you didn’t feel the same way so i closed myself off but that didn’t work, I just couldn’t get mind off of you” 

“Well I do” I shrugged, feeling my own body walk a step closer. “You can go to Monaco. Just never leave me���

“I would never make the same mistake” 

[madhatterbri]

Lips Of An Angel | M.J.

Summary: Reader and Matthew have a late night conversation.

Author's Note: Thanks to @supakixbabe for the GIF. This popped into my head since man seems like he is always brooding. Do not take this seriously.

@plentyoffandoms

Pure fiction

Matthew sat up in the living room couch channel surfing through the television. It was just another boring night at home. The kids were asleep. His wife lay in their bed watching whatever program caught her interest. His mind started to drift away as he thought about you. To his shock, you must have been thinking about him too.

His phone lit up with your picture and name. You were calling him. Panic set in as he wondered if something happened to you. He looked at the clock. Midnight. Something definitely had to have happened for the late-night phone call. He grabbed his phone and peered down the hallway. His wife was still in bed. In a split-minute decision, he answered the phone and went into the backyard. His family could never hear the conversation he was about to have.

"Y/N? It is midnight," he pointed out as if you didn't own a watch or clock. He was answered by the sounds of you crying. He recognized this cry from before. You were thinking about the life you could have had with him before everything fell apart. Matthew asked anyway. "Are you ok? Why are you crying?"

"Just thinking about what my life could have been like with you," you admitted between breathy sobs. "Why are you whispering?"

"I am outside. She is awake in the bedroom and I don't want her to hear us," he answered. Matthew looked down and shifted his feet. "I was just thinking about you, you know? Sometimes I wish she was you,"

Those affirmations seemed to calm you down a bit. You were now still breathing heavily on the phone, but at least you were calmer. Matt hated saying those words out loud but they were true. He didn't only have these thoughts in the bad times, but in the good ones as well. No matter what his wife did he always wondered how you would have done things.

"Matthew," you whispered just getting your bearings back. His legs faltered at the mention of his name. The way it rolled off your tongue each time no matter the circumstance. You were his angel on Earth. The two of you could never be apart from each other.

"Did you remember what today was then?" He inquired and looked at his watch to see the date. Today was the anniversary of the day he met you at one of the Dynamite tapings. He was walking around the arena and spotted you in the first row. His feet felt like they were planted in the ground. His brother had to drag him away before it started to raise suspicions. Matthew suddenly got a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Does he know you're talking to me right now?" He asked. The same douchebag that sat next to you in the arena. It was obvious he was out of his domain. The guy had a scowl on his face the entire time. The man looked miserable even though he had some amazing seats. At least you were there to make things better.

"He is at work. It would just start a fight if he knew I was talking to you," you sighed. Plenty of times you opened up about your marriage to this guy. The fear of the unknown kept you with him. He was your high school sweetheart. What if you couldn't find someone else to love you?

"You and I would certainly be in the same boat," he spoke and let his mind start to reminisce about you. The way you brought your head back to laugh at all his jokes. All the times you cheered him and his brother on despite the odds.

"Matthew, I wish things could be different," you confessed.

"I love it when you say my name," he reminded her. His heart skipped a beat when you confessed the same feelings he had. He sighed and rubbed his face. You made it so hard to be faithful. A thought popped into his head. Maybe just one night wouldn't be so bad.

"I saw on the calendar we are going to be a few hours from you. Maybe we both stay at the same hotel?" he asked.

Your giggle and excitement was all he needed to hear.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Amnesia!Dabi & AtLA Todorokis

My tablet has decided to be finicky, so submitting this all in a big chunk-

1) AtLa Todorokis

(Assuming CC!Canon)

Toya just looking at Princess “I Must Please My Dad And Be The Best!” Azula, and going “oh, you’re in for a bad time.” Somehow, he and Azula end up sparring, and then screaming and sobbing all over each other. 

Fuyumi and Rei being “dismissed” is less “Woman” and more that the Fire Nation is a very militaristic and power centred society, so the demure housewives get ignored. Jokes on them, by the end of the first week Rei has blackmail on every member of Ozai’s cabinet, and Fuyumi has the undying loyalty of most of his staff.

Natsuo is less “God, how primitive” and more “Ok, I get that you don’t have access to the same technology, but here’s how to make a very simple freezer so these medicines last longer”. Also “ok, I’m like … 80% sure that this plant is the same one where I’m from, in which case you should stop using it, and use this one instead, it’s less addictive”. Or, alternately, “Oh, so this plant does all this cool stuff, isn’t addictive, and grows like mad? Neat, how many seeds can I buy?”

Shoto takes one look at Zuko, decides “Ah, yes. This must be another version of me from an alternate reality.” Zuko … doesn’t really know what to do with that, but the kid seems alright, all things considered. Shoto also kind of … smacks Zuko in the face (metaphorically) cause part of the problem is that Zuko is surrounded by politicians and manipulative power-mongers. Everybody keeps talking around problems, or making Zuko second-guess himself, meanwhile Shoto “What Is A Filter?” Todoroki is like, “I get where you’re coming from, but that was a dick move.”

Enji is gritting his teeth the entire time, cause like. They’re in a strange place, they have to play by the rules until they figure out how to get home. But the more time he spends with Ozai, the more he wants to punt this smug bastard into the sun, and he has to keep reminding himself why that might be a bad idea.

Finally, Ozai decides to have Enji assassinated, cause the Fire Spirit and his family are causing all kinds of political problems. Only, of course, it fails pretty spectacularly, and since it involved using Azula as bait, she’s firmly against him now. Somehow, it ends with Zuko, Azula, Ty Lee, Mai, Shoto, Toya, Fuyumi, and Natsuo going on the run, while Enji and Rei team up with an escaping Iroh to wreck havoc and cover their retreat. The group run into the Gaang, and Zuko has to be like “So, firstly, Sorry for all the times I tried to kill you, secondly-”

At some point, Aang uses his “Spirit Medium” powers to try and connect with someone from the MHA world, ends up contacting Fumikage. 

2) Amnesia!Dabi

I think I sent this ask already, but I am becoming increasingly attached to the idea that Amnesia!Dabi as an AU is one where, for whatever reason, escaping AfO is actually not that hard. Like, in order:

Dabi - literally walked out of the sketchy clinic he woke up in. He was coming out of a coma, covered in half-healed burns, and still fighting off some lingering sedation. Took 15 hours before anyone found out he dipped. He proceeded to “evade” AfO for the next 3 years, to the point the guy thought he was dead, and only knew otherwise when Dabi walked into the bar to join the LoV. Finds out Dabi was basically two streets over the whole time.

Himiko (and Dabi again) - during the smack down involved with Katsuki’s Great Escape, AfO somehow misses Dabi covering Kats’ retreat, and then fleeing with an injured Himiko. When they don’t show up again, everyone assumes they got caught or went to ground, and only manage to piece together any kind of idea what happened when a news story breaks about the Togas suing UA over Himiko. Then the news Dabi=Toya, and his memory loss. Given the publicity involved on both Himiko and Dabi, unless AfO wants to really blow the fact that him being in prison doesn’t mean much, he “decides” they aren’t worth it.

Magne - left shortly before the Toya=Dabi story broke, but after the Himiko court case got announced. Just … left. Decided this clearly wasn’t the kind of group she thought it was, told everyone goodbye, good luck, and left. Jin, Compress and Spinner still have her number. AfO is unaware she left at all until sometime after the League joins up with Overhaul.

Jin - managed to escape a facility that was SUPPOSED to be secure, while severely injured from a procedure that stole his Quirk. Managed to escape, get help, and lead a bunch of heroes to said facility, forcing AfO to abandon it. Is now under the protection of both Enji, and U.A., and when the HPSC try to get at him, Nezu “reveals” Jin’s the pioneer patient for a new program about “rehabbing” villains or something. Hero support skyrockets. HPSC support continues to down-swerve.

Compress - Undermines a fairly important operation to nab a powerful Quirk user, saves several heroes and adjacent from losing their Quirks, and even rescue the current holder of OfA. The resulting de-aging, turning Compress from 32 to 16, somehow ends up with “Mr. Compress” being “dead”, as teen him doesn’t remember being an adult! (I mean, my idea is he … kind of does? Like, general impressions, or big moments, he does remember. He knows he WAS an adult, and why he did what he did. But Eri’s Quirk went a little haywire, so for all intents and purposes, Compress is, indeed, 16 now.) Somehow, ends up adopted by Aizawa & Mic, cause Eri sees him as a big brother figure.

Kurogiri - K, so like. Originally, he got nabbed during some big operation, right? However, so much is different here, that AfO is just trying to get these guys to lay low. So, instead - bear with me - Kurogiri gets sighted during an outing for groceries, and during a scuffle, suffers a head injury that abruptly causes him to remember his time as Oboro, and forget/muddle much of his time as Kurogiri. Disoriented, he accidentally portals himself into Aizawa and Mic’s living room. Shenanigans ensue. Tomura and Spinner figure he got caught. However, they decide to tell AfO he straight up died. AfO, for some reason, decides “yeah, that checks out”.

Tomura & Spinner - so, my general idea for this is. AfO has decided that “if you want something done right, do it yourself”, and has used a combination of Overhauls’ Quirk plus some others to reconstruct his own body, and then with Jin’s Quirk, is going to make an army of himself. He also decides he’s going to yoink Tomura’s Quirk, cause Decay is pretty powerful, and then he’ll kill Tomura on live TV, telling the whole story about Nana & Yagi, and OfA, really hammer in the message that he’s awesome and all is lost. While this mostly goes to plan, he also ends up broadcasting Spinner decking him in the face, grabbing the de-Quirked Tenko, and escaping while calling him a “bitchass knock-off Palpatine wannabe motherfucker” on the way out. The boys get an unexpected assist from a nearby Hawks & Miruko, proceed to tell everyone everything they know about AfO’s plans.

Much later, after everything is settled, if this ends the way CC will, it takes a few weeks for Yoichi and AfO to have a proper conversation, because Yoichi just. Can’t stop laughing.

-

Everyone easily leaving AfO is fucking great.

Also yes let Rei get blackmail!!!

[t-0ne25]

“Will never let you go this time.” — Option A3: Sapphire

[Make sure to please read Chapter 25 of Red Lights first, before you continue.]

“I’m gonna wear the sapphire necklace,” you announce, when Soyeon comes back into the room. She gives you a soft smile and a nod, before she helps you put on the jewellery. You take your time to slip into the blue dress next, before you step out and get back to the ballroom.

He’s waiting there for you. The man who it's been all along.

You can tell that Minho is already crying, unable to hold back the tears. He wipes them away with the back of his hand, constantly, since they don’t seem to stop.

“Hey, baby, no, no. Don’t cry, please,” you tell him, once you get closer, grabbing his face.

He nods, trying to subside the little sobs that are filling the huge hall.

“We can go upstairs, talk a little without the cameras and all,” you suggest.

Minho nods, giving you a relieved smile. You place a soft kiss on his lips, before you grab his hand and guide him to the door. You make it upstairs in no time, before you find the romantic suite Soyeon has told you about. Entering the bedroom, you realise that the blankets, curtains and pillows have the same shade of blue as the dress that you’re wearing. You’re close to tears now, too, admiring that little detail.

“Y/N?” Minho asks with a small voice and you turn around to him.

“Yeah?”

“I… I can’t believe you chose me… I-Im– what does this mean?”

You understand that he must be utterly confused. After all, this date a few days ago felt like the last one with you. Then you went to bed with both Jisung and Hyunjin, although the latter wasn’t even part of the finale anymore. What happened that you chose him in the end?

Well, that Halloween night might be factor number one. Minho wasn’t involved in any of this drama compared to the other finalists and even semi-finalists. And, of course, you can’t deny it. You just know that Minho and you truly belong together. Even after all this time. You’ll always love him, you’ll always be his princess, just like he said.

There’s a reason you can’t give up on him. It’s because your heart doesn’t want to. And when love is strong enough, which this one is, you can get through anything together. He proved it to you. Yes, it has only been a small amount of time but you trust him so much, you know that he’ll get better.

“Min, I’ve loved you all this time. Even when we didn’t see each other for a whole year. My feelings for you never stopped,” you confess.

He chuckles, “God– I’m the luckiest bastard on this planet, right?”

“You fought a lot. I know it wasn’t easy for you. But you proved to me that you’re willing to work on yourself, on us,” you explain.

He immediately nods, “I am… I really am. Whatever it needs for me to get better, for us to get better. I’ll go to therapy, I will work on my jealousy issue and all.”

“We can do this,” you reassure him, as your hand softly strokes his cheek. “Slow steps and all, if that’s alright with you. I still need time to fully give in but I am sure it’ll work out.”

This is the best Christmas present he could have this year. And the year after. And the year after that one.

“It will, I promise. You’ve always been my biggest motivation for anything in life, Y/N,” he admits.

Time stands still, when he smiles at you with so much love and trust. You take a few steps closer, getting rid of the distance between you when you press your lips on his. Minho is a bit surprised, although he knew you were going to kiss him, but it’s just the whole situation itself. He’s had this dream a thousand times before but something tells him that it’s finally reality.

You slip your tongue into his mouth a second later, heavy breaths filling the room in the meantime. What started out as an innocent little peck, soon turns into a full makeout session. Passion is ruling over you, desire is getting the best of you two. You can’t hold back and you don’t want to.

The both of you are already walking towards the bed. A little later, your back hits the mattress, before Minho is towering over you. He looks like a starving man—nothing new, whenever he has you under him. His lips wander to your cheek, underneath your ear, to your neck, even further down.

He decides to help you out of your dress, although he admired the look on you like nothing else in this world. The red lingerie catches his eyes even more—he stares at you for a second, as if it’s the first time he sees you like this. He remembers that moment quite well, when he had you like this for the first time. Back in college, after a few dates together—you looked as pretty as you do today, a lot more inexperienced, making him think you’re the innocent type. Of course, Minho soon realised you are anything but that.

You’re busy now opening each button of his shirt, before he slips out of his pants next. You get rid of your bra, too, while Minho pulls your panties down. It all happens so fast but you couldn’t care less—you’re hungry for more, hungry for each other.

“Min?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you inside of me, please,” you tell him, spreading your legs for him. You catch your lower lip between your teeth, hoping he will hurry up.

“Uhm… don’t you want me to stretch you a bit?” you ask, sounding a little concerned for you. Minho loves nothing more than going down on you, than getting you ready for his cock.

“I can’t wait… please…” you beg further.

Minho chuckles, positioning himself between your thighs, “Okay, darling. Whatever my princess asks for, she’ll get.”

His cockhead brushes over your clit, as he finds you absolutely soaked for him. You let out a whimper at the sensation, allowing him to tease you more. One of Minho’s arms gets placed next to your head, while he keeps his balance by staying on his knees. 

“Let me make love to you, okay?”

That’s all he says before pushing himself inside. It takes some time for you to get used to the feeling, until he bottoms you out. The stretch stings a little but you soon adjust to it, the small pain turning into huge pleasure instead.

“Hold my hand,” he says, before his fingers get intertwined with yours. Minho starts thrusting into your wet hole then, as your pussy already starts tightening around him. God. This feels like heaven. Like everything you’ve ever needed.

“Kiss me, please,” you whimper underneath him and Minho is happy to oblige, when he places his lips on yours.

You’ve never had such soft and passionate sex at the same time. Never before—neither with Minho nor anyone else. He decides to place your legs over his shoulders, helping him change the angle a little.

“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks.

“Deeper, Min, please… go faster,” you beg, nodding.

“Okay, princess. Whatever you need, baby,” Minho chuckles.

He pounds even deeper into you then, hitting that sweet spot inside of you. It doesn’t take long for your vision to get filled with stars, when he fuckes you through your orgasm. After you beg Minho to not hold back, he cums deep inside of you, as your cunt milks his cock empty.

The mixture of liquids starts running out of you, when he pulls out. Minho gives a sweet little kiss on your nose, before he hurries to the bathroom, so he can get you cleaned and ready for bed.

💻

The spring sun is warming your skin. It’s been some time since the ending of Red Lights now but you don’t really miss it. Life is a lot better. Minho has been to therapy since January, hitting the three month mark now. You have given each other some space during that time, almost zero contact, so that he can work on his development. But now he’s back, having invited you.

He’s prepared something really special for today. The two of you meet at his new apartment, in the mood for a chill evening of cooking dinner together. The food tastes immaculate, just like having you in his life again. He kept his promise, worked on himself, made amends with the people he did wrong—including Jeongin. Yes, even after Minho found out that the two of you share a small history and happen to work at the same company again. But he trusts you. And you trust him.

His heartbeat is running in his chest, when he picks out the velvety box from his storage room, before he comes back to the kitchen.

“Y/N? I have a small gift for you,” he announces.

“A gift?” you ask, rather surprised.

He opens the box, revealing a ring with a sapphire stone attached to it, shimmering in the same shade of blue like the necklace you still wear every day.

“I… I actually bought it two years ago to propose to you one day,” he explains. “Fuck it, I’ll just get a new one for that, an even prettier one, I promise. But—will you be my girlfriend again, Y/N?”

A huge smile is decorating your face, “Of course, Min, I was waiting for you to ask me that.”

He puts the ring on your finger, his own hand shaking like crazy.

“Shit, I love you so much,” Minho says.

His lips find yours for a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much, too.”

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© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[sapphiewritesstuff]

Hii! (If it’s okay) Can I please request a Soft Yan!Namor x fem!human reader where he’s super soft with her and convinces her to stay in Talokan with him and be his Queen? They both love each other a lot (she’s the only surface dweller that he has a soft spot for) and he gives her the herb to give her the ability to breathe underwater?🥰

Warnings: fem! human! reader, soft yandere, manipulation, hurt/comfort, willing reader, implied violence (not towards reader), not proofread

-For the first few months of your relationship, you and Namor would meet up on a beach to spend time together

-You would walk among the shore, watch the sunset, and relax in each other's presence until he returned to Talokan, and you returned to your home on the surface

-Everytime Namor watched you disappear from his sight (he watches you leave, he's protective.), his heart longs to take you home. Your home, your home in Talokan. Not the place on the surface that you call home

-Whenever he brings up the topic of you coming to Talokan with him, you try your best to change the subject. You're afraid, he thinks. You're afraid of leaving the people you care for, leaving your life behind.

-Everytime you reject his offer, he lowers his head and grabs your hands, nodding in understanding. He bites the inside of his cheek to hide his emotions, all his heart does is ache for you. He can't force you, he knows he can't, he wants you to trust him.

-One night, you blow into the shell he gifted you and sit on the beach. He arrives nearly instantly (he totally doesn't hang around near the beach waiting for you), and when he sees tears streaming down your cheeks, he is kneeling down before you.

-"What is the matter, my love?" He stares at you and wipes away your tears, placing a hand on the back of your head.

-You sob out, explaining a conflict that happened between you and a family member, one that had deeply upset you.

-At first, he feels rage, how dare they? He'll make sure they'll pay for causing you emotional distress.

-However, at the same time, he sees this as an opportunity.

-"You have so much love for the people around you, [Name], I admire that." You smile at his words. "They do not deserve the grace you give them, can't you see? Surface dwellers hurt and destroy, everyone of them except for you." You stay silent. "Here, I will take you to my kingdom, you may stay the night and rest." You nodded, he seemed to be the only person on your side at the moment, and you really didn't want to go home. It will only be for the night, right?

-The next morning you admired the murals he had painted, your attention being drawn to one in particular, it was a painting of you and him on the beach, it made you smile.

-When you woke that morning, he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t pay much mind to it, though, being a king must come with a lot of duties.

-“I’m sorry, my love.” Were the first words he said when he returned. “I didn’t want to leave you. Did you sleep well?” You nodded and he smiled.

-You thanked him for allowing you to stay, giving him a sweet kiss that made him feel more alive than he’s felt in 500 years, you always make him feel alive.

-“Can you take me home, now? I wanna apologize to them.”

-Namor went silent.

“My love… you remember what I said last night, right? They don’t deserve you. You will be loved and respected here, as my queen.”

-Namor will bring up every time a surface dweller has wronged you if you decline his offer at first. When you finally give in (and you will, if you don’t want the world to feel the wrath of K’uk’uklan), he’ll be overjoyed, wrapping you into a tight embrace.

-“I promise you will be loved here, my queen.”

[stxrmylxve]

@freakyshibs prompt: Can you do one where they're childhood friends who liked each other but lost contact after touya's death. They meet each other again and confess their feelings to one another and you can decide what happens from there on! I want it to be smut but if u arent comfy writing that that's cool!

”touya!” you squealed as he tickled you; laughs filling the air as you both fell over onto the ground.

Touya was a bit older than you, only by a year, but he still was just as childish as you were. His favorite thing to talk about was growing up and marrying you, but even you knew as a kid it was just talk. Nonetheless, he still called you ‘baby girl’, regardless if it was a bit cringe or cheesy.

He would always ebb and flow; sometimes he would be at the park, sometimes not. Often times he would show up with scratches or bruises, but it didn’t stop him from being playful with you.

“where did you get this scratch from?” you would always ask, touching them softly as if he would break as he watched your intently. he would shrug it off and run away, laughing as he teased you.

But one day, he didn’t come to the park. You didn’t think anything of it until he didn’t come the next day, or the next, or the next. you began to worry, was he alright? You were 12 now, and you marched your way down the street like a big kid. this quickly faltered, however, when you saw the ruins of his house.

ash was scattered on the street, the air smelling musky like burning paper. the whole house was black, the occasional red flicker spurring up before dying back down. Fuyumi was standing out front alone, doubled over as she wept to herself.

You stopped in front of the house, eyes full of tears as you watched her cry into the burnt clothing of.. touya. he was no where to he seen, but based on the way the clothes looked, he was long gone.

“fuyumi.. what happened..?” you ask, meeting her pained eyes as she turned around, holding your small waist as she cried into your clothes. you sat down and hugged her back; she was just a child like you, but it still must have been even harder saying that this was her brother.

“he.. he’s gone! All For One took him.. h-he’s..” just explaining this pained you more as she started to cry even more, your grey shirt turning black from the amount of tears falling.

“He’ll bounce back, i just know it.” you say with a weak smile as you wiped your own tears, hugging her as more tears began to fall. you had no clue whether he actually could, you just had to hope.

————————<3

11 years have passed now. 11. Touya still hadn’t left your memory in all of these years, but you learned to move on. Well, you didn’t want to, but the weeping led to your parents to get angry with you.

“Move on! Touya is dead for pete’s sake y/n!” your father yelled.

“no he’s not! I know he’s not. There’s no way-“

“forget him or get out.” your father said, pointing to the door with a scowl.

“dad, im 14 years old! I can’t-“

“then leave it alone.”

The words were drilled into your head, but you couldn’t help but choke back a sob when you saw on the news the uprising villian attack.

“and there are also new villians coming into the city. Dabi is who we believe is the new one, and he has already burned down several buildings. If you see him, our only advice is to run and let the heroes take care of him.”

The news reporter seemed scared himself, but come on, this ‘villian’ looked exactly like touya. He would never hurt someone without a purpose.

You rushed out of your room and out of the house, running towards the city as fast as you could. the video on the news showed him alone, maybe this would be your chance to see touya again?

You followed the scent of smoke; your great sense of smell really helped since it was faint. the fire must have burned out, but maybe he was still nearby. your turned a corner to go through an alley way as stopped in your path, almost running into dabi.

you toppled back as looked up in horror, expecting to find a scary villian instead.

“touya?” you asked, although it was more of a whisper, as you brushed the hair out of your eyes.

“hey baby.” the man says as he offers you a hand, pulling you up as you fell into his chest.

“you’re.. alive?” you ask as tears fall down your face and into his shirt, a small kiss being placed on the top of your head as a yes.

You looked up at his face and examined the purple-ish skin. Your hands ran along the line of skin and staples that attached the clear skin to the burnt skin.

“are you-“

“I’m fine. healed if you would.” he interrupts, lifting you over his shoulder with a grin.

“hey! put me down!” you yell, earning a slap on the ass as you yelped and quieted down.

“stop yelling. unless you want to take me right here?” he asks, peering over his shoulder to look at your flustered face.

“who says i want to fuck you at all?” you challenge, earning a deadpanned look from dabi as he shakes his head.

“it doesn’t take a quirk to see your eyes travel down to my zipper before shooting back up, darl’ “ he laughs as he takes off again, slipping a hand up your shorts to tease the corner of your pannies.

“you- ngh- fine. where are we going?” you stutter out as you claw at his back.

“the hq. they know a bit about you, don’t worry.” he explains as he takes another alley way, sighing when shigaraki shoots him a look.

“shig, meet the beautiful y/n.” dabi says as he pats your ass, signaling you to look around. you meet shigaraki’s eyes and shutter; they looked so sad.

“dabi, put me down for a sec.” you say as you hop down, walking over to the man. He begins to protest, but you take his hand into yours with a gentle smile.

“you can touch me, i have a resistance quirk.” you say as you run your hands through his hair. He acted like a cat; melting into your touch.

“alright alright, come onn, give me some of that in my room.” dabi says as he takes you away, sticking his tongue out teasingly towards shigaraki as he walks into the LOV headquarters.

It was nice inside, didn’t seem like a headquarters but rather a bar. Dabi took you past toga and drug you towards the back half of the bar, towards what you assumed was his bedroom. he kicked open the door and pulled you close, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

“you know, i missed you- ah fuck.” he starts, getting cut off when you palm him through his sweatpants. He rested his head on your shoulder as you unzipped his pants, slipping them down along with his boxers to gape at his size. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?

You gulped down as you bent down, taking his dick into your mouth. you were doing something right because this infamous ‘terrorist villian’ had his head thrown back and was releasing the most heavenly moans to ever be made. You wiggled on your thighs, trying to get any sort of friction possible, but it wasn’t doing anything to please you.

You released his dick with a ‘pop’ as you clawed at his thighs, bringing out of his haze to stare down at you with curiosity.

“want it.. now..” you mumble out, too embarrassed to hold eye contact with the man.

“feisty, eh?” he laughs as he pulls you up, throwing your shorts elsewhere and settling you on his lap. he got you ajusted and propped himself up with his hands behind him, opting to watch you do the work.

You looked away with a blush as you buried your face into his neck, only taking him half way before you almost busted in two.

“t…too big.” you moan out as he moves his hips just a little, pushing more and more in.

“come on now, just a little more, yeah? hang on.” he says with a grin as he gives one powerful thrust, shoving all of it into your plush, gummy walls with a loud groan. You screamed out a hearty moan as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

You sat there with a whimper, waiting to ajust but not wanting him to pull out. It took a while, but you eventually got ajusted and began to move on your own. He places his hands on your hips to stabilize you as you bounced up and down, the grin never leaving his face as he watched your tits bounce.

“geez, you are gorgeous, just for me..”

@kelin-is-writing you might like this too lol

[demelza00]

Glass. Part 3

Tsireya x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader

Contains: some angst, some comfort finally, implied Avatar: The Way of Water spoilers

Word count: 910

Finally edited lol

Final part! Sorry this took so long, I did not think anyone would see the other two :0 (Also I'm a bit disappointed with this one, might rewrite it in the future lol). Thank you all sm for reading<3 If y'all like this story w/ Tsireya, I'm not sure if my next writing will be a similar concept with another character or a different prompt entirely with Tsireya. Any suggestions? <3

-(Name)'s POV

I cried. I screamed, and cried, and screamed more and kept doing so until my throat was raw and there were no more tears to fall. I have no idea how long we sat there, Tsireya holding me and smoothing my hair down.

I let everything out. I told her how I couldn’t see a way that I could ever fill Neteyam’s role, how I didn’t know how I could even go on without the guidance of my older brother. I told her that I was scared, maybe more scared than I ever had been, and that I was completely lost with no idea what to do next.

And Tsireya held me. She cried with me through some of it, keeping one of her hands firmly pressed against my back, grounding me. When I stopped crying, she eventually moved my head back and wiped the tears from my face.

“(Name). I see you. Your family will guide you, you will be alright. I know that you will do well,” she tells me. I try to protest, but barely get out a word before my voice cracks, tears flooding my eyes yet again.

Tsireya pulls me back into a hug. “I believe in you and I will be here for you. You are my best friend,” she says. Amazingly, through all of the grief of the day, the words ‘best friend’ manage to sting.

She must see my ears go back or something, because she yet again pulls back and looks at my face. Her big eyes look as though they are searching for an answer on my face, and she seems to find it.

“I will always be at your side,” she says.

I bite my lip to keep from sobbing again, and nod. She smiles weakly, nodding as well.

I’m not sure how much longer we sit there, now settled beside each other, leaning back against a large rock and watching the waves. It must’ve been a while, though, because the sky has started getting ever-so-slightly brighter, though the sun isn’t yet rising from the water.

When it gets bright enough that our bioluminescent spots start to dim, yet still before sunrise, Tsireya turns her head slightly, catching my attention. “We might want to get back soon,” she says quietly, still looking out at the water.

I nod my head. “Yeah, that is probably a good idea,” I agree, also quiet. It's like there is a peace that neither of us want to disturb. But when I look over at her, and see the pure, gentle beauty of her face, I find I can't stop myself.

“Tsireya..” I say quietly. She turns to look at me, and when her eyes meet mine, I almost falter. “I think I’m in love with you.”

It felt like the world had stopped. Tsireya’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, my heart nearly stopped, and even the slight breeze stopped. Neither of us moved for what felt like hours, but then her mouth closed and she frowned slightly.

“(Name)..” She said quietly. I felt like puking. The one person I’m comfortable with, that I know I can trust! Why did I fuck it up? What the hell is wrong with me, Tsireya is the most beautiful girl in Awa’atlu, and the next in line to be Tsahik, why would I ever think-

“I’m worried that you only say that because I comforted you. If you only think you feel that way because you don’t know how else to cope with what’s happened, then..” She trailed off, trying to find more words but ultimately leaving it at that.

What..? Only because she comforted me? Is that what she thinks I meant?

“It is not because you comforted me,” I said, looking away from her as I felt my cheeks burn. “Since we became friends, I believe I have been falling in love with you. You are the kindest, gentlest, and most beautiful person I have ever met.. I have never been able to be vulnerable with people to the extent as I have with you. And seeing the way that you care for my family, showing them patience and respect.. You have stood up for my siblings and I, you have scolded your own brother for calling us freaks.. How could I not fall in love with you?”

When I finally had the courage to look at Tsireya again, her cheeks had a beautiful blush, and she looked to be surprised. When she came to reality again, I saw small tears pool in her eyes, and she smiled slightly. “Do you mean that..?” She asked quietly.

I nodded, and the next thing I knew, she had launched herself from her seat in the sand and hugged me, with so much momentum that we both ended up falling. When she leaned back, her hair falling around my head as she looked down at me, she smiled widely, showing the beautiful dimples that I had missed.

“Do you.. feel the same?” I asked hesitantly, smiling slightly as well. She laughed, nodding as she used one of her hands to wipe the small tears from the corners of her eyes. The other moved to hold her up, then she cupped my face gently. “Can I kiss you (Name)?”

I nodded, and she giggled again, leaning down and finally pressing her lips to mine. “I see you (Name).”

“I see you Tsireya.”

Hope you enjoyed <3 Should I make more Tsireya content next or do y'all wanna see some other characters?

[farity]

Enemies, part 2

Pairing:  Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  Reader is Rhaenyra’s second child and her father is Laenor Velaryon (the only child they had together, the boys are still Harwin Strong’s)

Warning:  Smut

Aemond walked through the keep the next morning, discreetly looking inside every room he passed, until he reached the dining hall.

“Brother!” Aegon exclaimed, “you survived your wedding night!  Did it hurt much?”

Queen Alicent glared at her oldest, then turned to Aemond.  “Where is your wife?”

“I thought she might be here,” Aemond said, eye scouring every corner of the room.

“You’ve lost her already?” Aegon laughed.  “This does not bode well for the marriage.”

“Aegon, stop,”  Alicent said as Ser Criston Cole entered the hall.  “Ser Criston, do you know where our new princess is?”

The knight looked from the queen to Aemond, shifting uncomfortably in his boots.  “It seems the princess left on her dragon early this morning.”

Aegon clapped a hand to his mouth, doing little to conceal his cackling.

“You must go after her, brother,” Helaena said very seriously.  

Aemond looked from Ser Criston to his mother, and left the room.

* * * * * 

“Leave us,” the Princess Rhaenys said the moment you appeared at the doors.

You ran to your grandmother’s open arms and began sobbing while she held you, pouring out rage and grief as she stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

You went through the events of the night, your sobs turning into hiccups, while you felt Rhaenys grow angrier and angrier.

“That fucking cunt,” she muttered.  “Has my son murdered and then gives you, my precious girl, to that evil-faced fuck.  Did he hurt you?”

You shook your head.  “No.  I knew it would hurt a little but he was not rough with me.  That does not mean I do not despise him.  He is arrogant and vile and hates my brothers.”

“Well, my dear,” Rhaenys said, “he has much reason to hate your brothers.  Luke is here, mucking out the stables as punishment.”

“I did not know where to go, grandmama,  I miss Baela and Rhaena but I am not going back to Dragonstone.  Grandpapa!” you said when your grandfather walked in.

“What has happened?” he said when you threw your arms around him.

“She is the most vile of mothers, passing the payment of her sins to her children!” you exclaimed, letting him pat your head as he always did.  

You felt your grandmother’s hand on your shoulder.  “Dearest child, go rest in your room, have a bath, I will see you at midday, yes?”

You nodded.  A nap and a bath sounded perfect, and you loved the room your grandparents kept for you here.  There were trinkets and reminders of your dear father; Rhaenys had also started giving some of her gowns and jewels to her granddaughters, and you loved these things because they came from her.

As you went up the steps you heard your grandparents whispering to each other, and caught the broken sob of your grandmother.  “She is all I have left of him, Corlys!”

* * * * * 

Aemond dismounted from the great dragon, walked through the doors and went all the way to the steps where the two chairs sat.  He was angry and determined, and would not be denied.

“I am taking my wife home.”

“She is not here.”

He looked up at Rhaenys.  “Her dragon is here.  Therefore, she is here.”  He turned to Ser Corlys.  “I suggest you deal with your lying wife, Sea Snake, and I will deal with mine.  Unless you would like Vhagar to do the dealing for me.”

“You would dare threaten me, in my own house, princeling?”

“There is no need.”

Aemond turned at the sound of his wife’s voice.  

“I will deal with him,” she added, walking down the stairs.  The angry, red-faced, disheveled girl from last night was gone and in her place was a poised beauty wearing the gown of a queen and jewels to match, and he could not help but stare.  

Her brilliant turquoise gown shimmered with every step, and the silver headdress sparkled as it wove through her pale hair.  Her every movement was measured and as she reached the last step, he offered her his hand.  She placed slim fingers, covered in silver rings, lightly on his palm. 

“I will speak with you, Aemond,” she said, as if granting him a very great favor.  He turned back to see Ser Corlys, wide eyed in surprise, and the princess Rhaenys, pressing her lips together.

She kept her hand on his as he followed her down the main corridor to a sitting room facing the sea and sat gracefully on one of the chairs, her slippered feet peeking out the hem of her gown.

“I suppose it was not difficult to guess where I had gone,” she said casually.

“Not to me.”

“Like I said, not a difficult thing.”

Aemond sat facing her, and leaned back in the chair.  “Why did you leave?”

“I have no wish to stay married to you.”

“But you are, and your wishes mean very little.”  She didn’t react to his words, kept her bejeweled hands lightly clasped on her lap, and if anything, she seemed bored.

“You cannot take me back,” she mused, “I mean, physically, you cannot.  You cannot climb that beast and carry me, or drag me, and no one else will approach her.”

If she thought such a small thing would deter him, she was more naïve than he had thought.  “I can stuff you and all your jewels into a carriage, lock it, and take you back.”

“You may try.  It would be Meleys and Bellerax against your old, slow beast of a dragon.”

She was unhinged if she was already planning to pit dragon against dragon.  Or maybe she just wanted him to think so.

“Listen you stupid girl, you will-”

“You will stop calling me that,” she snapped, and Aemond smiled to himself for breaking through her façade.  “I grew up with three brothers and two sisters, my skill at insulting others are far greater than yours.”

He lunged forward, grabbing her chin in his fingers.  “I will call you what I want.  You are my wife, my property, and all your anger and resentment will not change that.  You can walk out on my arm or I can drag you out by one of your little feet and ruin this pretty dress of yours.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide.

“Or maybe that is what you wish,” he whispered, “to have this pretty dress ripped off of you?”

She looked at him and smirked.  “Why would I want you to rip my clothes off?  After our wedding night, I truly don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

He knew better than to cave to her provocation, but he couldn’t stop himself.  He pulled her in and pressed his mouth to hers in a brutal kiss, his tongue sweeping in, and when he felt her smack the side of his face, he simply fisted his hands in her hair, holding her in place.  To his surprise, he felt her reach to start pulling at the ties on his breeches, and the last bit of his resolve gave way.  

He pulled her to the very edge of the chair, let go of her hair to shove down his breeches while she spread her thighs open.  He was already hard for her, already wanting the heat of her surrounding his cock, and filled her in one thrust.  She gasped, tensing, and he began to murmur against her lips.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She wrapped her legs around him, her body adjusting, and when he pulled back, he saw her mouth, already bruised from his kiss.  Either she didn’t notice or she didn’t care because she pulled him back to her, her own mouth demanding as he began to move within her.  

There was nothing except her, the feel of her mouth on his, her body against his and then she rolled her hips and he moaned with how good it felt.  He wasn’t going to last much longer, not with her greedy hands moving down to sink her nails on his ass, her sweet little tongue touching his, and he came, barely suppressing a shout as he emptied himself in her.  

He felt her sigh and wanted to sink into the floor.  Slowly, he pulled out, straightened his clothes while she turned to deal with her gown.

“Shall I get a maid?” he offered.

“If you need one, go ahead.”

She disappeared out the smaller door for a few minutes and he wondered if she was going to get on her dragon and leave again, but then she came back.  “Look, I will return, but only because I do not wish my grandparents to be blamed for anything, and I have some conditions that must be met.”

He rolled his eye at her.  “Do enlighten me.”

“I have access to Bellerax at all times.  I do as I please,” she continued as he scoffed, “and I will warm your bed once a month.”

Aemond let out a bark of laughter.  “You are truly insane.  No to everything,” he said, “I didn’t know Rhaenyra was mad, so this must come from your father.”

She lunged at him, hitting his chest, “do not speak of my father, do not speak of him!”

He grabbed her small fists before she could strike him again, and was taken aback by the tears that began filling her eyes.

“Laenor Velaryon was kind, and he was good, and that fucking bitch had him killed so she could spread her legs for Daemon,” she cried, and Aemond could do nothing but watch as she began to crumple.  She pulled her hands away from him, covering her face as she sank to the floor and wept.  “He loved me,” she continued, and he sat down with her.  “He is the only one who loved me.”

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, and she fought him for a few seconds before she gave up, and just cried and cried while he held her.  

He recognized the anger, the sadness, the unending unfairness of things that were done that changed one’s life while the culprit went unpunished.  He held her through every sob, every tremor that shook her frame and when Rhaenys appeared at the doorway, concern etched on her face, he shook his head and she left quietly.

He held her until she became so quiet he thought she might have fallen asleep, but then she looked up, and he leaned in slowly and kissed her gently.  Much to his surprise, she let him.  Then she stood back up and left the room.

* * * * * 

You were quiet on the ride back to King’s Landing, as you walked to the keep, and while you undressed before your bath.  

It was all so confusing.  One moment Aemond was awful, and the next he was comforting you, and you didn’t know what to respond to.  

You let the hot water soothe you, let the scented oils envelop you in comfort, let the maid dry you off and dress you in a plain, clean gown.  When Aemond walked in, you were curled up before the fire.  

He walked around and stood in front of you.

“What?”

“Your grandparents love you.”

“Go away.”

“No,” he crouched in front of you, placing his hands on the armrests of your chair.  “You said Laenor was the only one who loved you, and that is not true.”

You rubbed your face.  “You don’t know anything, Aemond.  You don’t know me.”

“Then tell me.”

You stood, nearly bumping into him.  “Very well.  My grandparents love me because I remind them of their son.  All Corlys cares about is that old song of why wasn’t Rhaenys crowned queen and all Rhaenys cares about is holding on to Baela, Rhaena, and me because we are all that remain of her dead children.”

He said nothing, and you continued.

“I do not blame her, but that is the way it is.  But you, you think you know everything.  You toasted to me to point out that I am the only legitimate child of Laenor and . . . her.  Then you made those stupid comments about my brothers-”

“Because that fucking bastard was laughing at me!”

You shook your head.  “That is all he can do, Aemond.  That is absolutely all Luke can do. Do you think he can best you in a fight?  Or win against your dragon with little Arrax?  Your hatred for us all is palpable, it is like a viscous thing covering everything.  Hate Rhaenyra, it is she who has caused everything.”

“And speaking of my dear sister, what will you do,” he said then, leaning down so that his nose almost touched yours, “when she becomes queen?  Will you bend the knee to her, pledge your loyalty to her?”  

You hadn’t thought about that.  You knew Viserys was not long for this world, but you hadn’t considered what would happen after he died.

“No answer?  No clever stinging retort?  If your queen commands you to murder your husband, will you do it?”

Again, you shook your head.  

“I did not hear you, wife,” he said harshly, “if your queen and mother demands you prove your allegiance will you give her my head as proof?”

You looked at him.  “Aemond-”

“You are correct,” he spat out, “I don’t know you.  I don’t know anything.”  He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * * * * 

Aemond did not go to their bed that night.  He managed to sleep for minutes at a time, sitting in the library, but even then he was troubled.  If she only knew how alike they were, maybe they could call a truce between them.  If she only knew how much he agreed with her.

He thought about what she said of Luke, what she said of her grandparents.  He thought of her in that room facing the sea, the way she had turned greedy, pulling at his clothes until he was inside her, her small hands roaming his body.  That comment about their wedding night stung his pride.  Was that why she’d said she’d warm his bed only once a month?

They were tied together, by this forced marriage, by their anger and grief, by the consequences of the games others played.  And if he didn’t figure out a way to live with her, they would tear each other to pieces.

He dozed off thinking of her lips, bruised and red from his kiss.

* * * * * 

He opened the door to his bedchamber as quietly as he could.  He had given up on getting any more sleep and dawn was here anyway.  She was still sleeping, of course, as he approached the bed, and then saw that she was laying half on his side.  She’d kicked the covers down to the foot of the bed and one of the pillows was on the floor.  

It didn’t look like she’d gotten a good night’s sleep, either.

He noticed her nightgown had bunched up around her thighs and left her legs bare.  Through his sleepiness, he felt the gut punch of desire, remembering those legs wrapped around him.  

Aemond sighed, feeling guilty after the things he had said to her.  He did not truly believe she would murder him.  She might dislike him - a lot - but there were people she truly hated and even then, he did not think she would murder any of them.  He’d barely gotten her to trust him enough to let him hold her while she cried, and then he’d made that remark.

He went into his bathing chamber, hoping the hot water would clear his mind.  In the tub, he sunk down until he was completely under the surface, stayed there as long as he could before he surfaced.  

It was obvious, much to his annoyance and confusion, that he wanted the girl.  To her credit, she seemed to despise his whore of a sister, and she saw very clearly what his own damn father didn’t.  That Rhaenyra did as she wished and others were left to pay the price.  She also seemed to easily separate her dislike of him from her desire for him, as easily as she could close a door and open another.

He washed, scrubbing his skin until it stung, lathered his hair twice.  He felt no clearer but at least he felt more awake, he thought as he dried off and combed his hair.  The servant was draining the tub when the door opened and his wife stepped in, and stopped.

He saw her eyes take in his naked form from his head to his feet, and he didn’t know what to do.  Her eyes went back up to his face and she simply looked at him shamelessly while the servant rushed out of the bathing chamber, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“I will not murder you,” she said, and pulled the shift off over her head.  

“That is good to know,” he replied, and began walking toward her.

He reached her and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and walked back into their bedchamber.  He knew what he would do this time, and licked his lips as he placed her on the bed.  

“Aemond,” she whispered.

He reached between her legs, stroking gently, and she closed her eyes for a moment, “that is wicked,” she said.

He smirked, “you are the wicked one, wife.  So wet and ready for me,” She blinked slowly and he felt how she squeezed her thighs together.  “Do you know how much you tempt me?”

She looked at him warily and shook her head.  She was running her hand up and down his back, her fingertips tracing lines and patterns as he continued to touch her.  

When he kneed her legs apart, he felt her brace herself, but instead he slid down, hooked his arms under her thighs and began pleasuring her.  

Her whimpers were the most delicious sound he had ever heard, Aemond decided, pushing her further and further.  He felt her hips start moving in a steady rhythm, and she began to moan, the sound filling the room.  He pushed her hands onto her breasts, and she immediately squeezed the two lovely mounds.  

“Aemond,” she breathed, “I- I’m-”

He slipped two fingers inside her and curled his fingertips, and she screamed, her inner muscles squeezing rhythmically while his lips and tongue continued working her.  

* * * * * 

This was madness, you thought, the purest and wildest madness you’d ever felt.

You’d thought he meant to take you as he had before, and then he’d begun touching you and you’d nearly purred, it felt so good.  But then he’d placed his mouth there and that was entirely different, somewhere between pleasure and the brightest, sweetest pain you’d ever felt.  You wanted to both push him away and to pull him even closer, and every time you closed your eyes all you could see was him, standing naked in the bathing chamber.  

Your husband was a work of art, you decided, all that pale skin and lean muscle begging to be touched, and you’d taken a long look at him, wondering if he would let you place your hands all over him.

You were barely recovering from your release when you realized he meant to continue, every swipe of his tongue making you whimper so loudly, you might have been embarrassed at your own neediness.  As it was, you could barely form a coherent thought when Aemond was so clearly determined to keep going.

Again you fell apart, your body not your own as you held on to your breasts, the covers, the mattress, anything to anchor you.  Again you realized he wasn’t stopping, already driving you to a third release before you’d even fully recovered from this one.  

“Aemond,” you said weakly.

“Beg, wife, beg me for mercy, but know I have none for you,” he replied and went back to pleasuring you.

His hair was still damp when you grabbed for it.  “Aemond, please,” you whimpered, but if anything, he spread your legs further apart, sucked at the tender flesh between your thighs. 

At some point you felt him leave while you stayed on the bed, still splayed out as he’d left you.  You tried sitting up but the languorous bliss coursing through you made you unable to move your limbs.  He came back a few minutes later, gathered you in his arms.

By the time he was carrying you to the bathing chamber and sinking into the tub with you in his arms, you had lost count of how many times you had screamed and begged, and you simply curled up against him as he ran a washcloth over your skin.  

In this, at least, you understood each other, you thought as you closed your eyes.

* * * * * 

He held her until she stirred and turned around to straddle him, noticed something different in her eyes as she sank onto him and began to rock her hips.  He pulled her down to take her mouth again, swallowing her whimpers.  Nothing else mattered right now, only her and the fact that she wanted him.  He clung to that thought while she rode him, while she whispered yes, yes, yes in his ear as he came.

Laying on their bed after, he held her for a long time before she spoke.

“I didn’t know people could despise others yet still want to lay with them.”

He lifted his head, tipping her face to his.  “Do you despise me?”

She looked at him for several moments before she shrugged.  “Or maybe it is because I’m a whore like her.  Maybe that’s why, because her blood is in my veins.”  She began chewing on her lower lip as she stared at the ceiling.

Aemond rose on one elbow.  “You are no whore.  Do not say that again.”

She turned to him, her eyes defiant.  “You want to know about Criston Cole?”

He nodded, not bothering to deny his curiosity ever since she had thrown the knight’s name at her mother.

“She fucked him before she married my father.  Your mother found out, Rhaenyra said it wasn’t true, but it was.  At the feast before the wedding, Cole killed my father’s lover.  I don’t know why, I don’t know the whole story, but I heard my father throw it in her face once when they were arguing.  That is why my brother’s name is Joffrey, because that was his name.”

After a few minutes, Aemond said, “he should have been punished.  Cole, I mean.”

“My guess is your mother made sure he wasn’t and Cole is eternally grateful.”

Aemond shook his head.  “He is very loyal to her.”

“That might be her undoing.  Rhaenyra’s, I mean.  Her actions might end up alienating everyone who is loyal to her.”  She sat up, curling her legs under her.  “Aemond, I would not swear allegiance to her.  She took away the only person who ever loved me for me, not for what I meant.”

“She is your mother, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I am sure she does love you-”

“Aemond, I made it permissible for her to keep fucking Harwin Strong.  My birth erased the talk about Jace.  She could parade me around to show she did her duty.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“You said Rhaenys loves me and I have told you why.  You said Rhaenyra loves me and I am telling you why.”  She slipped off the bed.  “My father was the only one who loved me for me.  So I would appreciate it if you stopped speaking about things you don’t know anything about.”

He watched her go back into the bathing chamber and close the door behind her.

* * * * * 

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[skinnymeanfaggot]

4... "Stay. Please stay."

RUBBING MY FUCKING HANDS TOGETHER sehnsucht spoilers and tw for slight slight ableism?

Everything was going great for Sana, so it was only a matter of time before it all fell apart again.

It was the sound of coins hitting the floor that alerted him to what was happening. There was a soft “Oh fuck”, and Sana threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed. Even in the darkness he could see Eva's form hunching over to pick up a bag of coins they must have dropped; Sana had to appreciate how they at least left some gold on the dresser for him. It didn't stop him from barreling into them and pinning them against the door.

“What are you doing, Eva?” Sana whispered, even though he knew exactly what they were doing. They were abandoning him. Again.

“Sana,” Eva breathed. “I know this looks bad, but trust me, I'm doing this for you.” There was genuine pain in their eye - were there any the last time? Or were they glad to go, and leave everything they had together behind?

“No - no, you're not. You're leaving me again.” It felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. Oh, God, this pain, he hasn't felt this since he came back to find their hideout ransacked - was it this bad before? It had to be worse. “Why, Eva? I thought we worked this all out - why are you doing this to me again?”

“I - I'm not trying to -” The realization seemed to hit them, and Eva slumped against the door. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to - to do this to you again, I don't want to hurt you - it's just -”

“Just what?” Hot tears stung at the corners of Sana's eyes. “Just fucking what? What excuse do you have for me this time?”

“I - I - ” Eva's eyes began to water. “It's - it's because -”

Sana expected a grand confession, but what came from their lips was hardly a whimper.

“I'm cursed.”

“What… are you talking about?” Fucking what? He scanned their face desperately for any hint of sarcasm, but they were on the verge of sobbing. Eva was a good actor, but not that good. “What do you mean by that?” He swallowed, his grip on their cloak slowly beginning to loosen.

“If I - I l-l-love - someone,” Suddenly Eva burst into tears. They sunk to the floor and began heaving for air. “When I-I l-love… someone, they die.”

Sana stared down at them with wide eyes. He knew a lot about magic; there was no curse that could do that. They must have been lying, but then…

Eva was curled up in a fetal position, their long tail wrapped tightly around them. Each sob ripped a hole in Sana's heart, and he couldn't - he couldn't bring himself to be mad anymore.

“Why do you think that?” He whispered softly, settling on the floor next to them.

Eva lifted their head, just enough for Sana to see a glowing white eye narrow in frustration. “I d-don't think it,” Eva hiccuped. “I know it. It's - it happened before. And it's g-going to happen to y-you - if I stay -” They let out a wail. “I know y-you d-d-don't want - m-m-m-me to -” Sana gently, gently placed a hand on their shoulder as Eva desperately sucked in some air. “- leave but it's t-the only way - way I can keep you - s-safe…”

Sana… Sana was at a loss.

He hadn't seen Eva like this since when they first ran away together. He was more cruel back then, he had to admit; he remembered staring blankly as they wept and secretly hoping they would shut up. But now - he was still upset, but it was like a switch flipped in him.

“Okay.” Sana settled up beside them and pressed his side against theirs. “I understand.” He didn't fucking understand. His emotions were shut off, but distantly, under a layer of fog, there was some anger at the situation. Eva was either telling an incredible lie, or they were batshit fucking insane. Sana didn't know which was worse. “So, the curse makes it so the people you love die. Do you love me?”

Eva was dead silent. At the same time, their tail began to twitch, and the tips of their long ears darkened considerably.

In any other circumstance, Sana would be overjoyed. Instead he just felt hollow. “Why do you have to leave?” He wanted to sound calm, rational, but instead the words came out pitifully, as if he was a little kid.

“I have to -” Eva sniffled. “I have to. To k-keep you s-safe.”

You're hurting me! Sana took a deep breath. “And that's why you left before?”

Eva nodded, and looked up at him with a wet eye. It at least seemed like they were beginning to calm down, which was a relief to Sana, because he felt like he was going to crumble to pieces.

“It was so you'd stay alive.” They sounded so sure of themself, Sana wanted to punch them. “I'm sorry for taking your things. I thought - if you hated m-me… things would be better.”

“But you left me.” The shell around Sana was beginning to crack. “I saved you, and you left me. And now you're leaving again -”

“I have to,” Eva whispered. “I'm sorry -”

“You don't!” He exploded. “You don't have to leave, you - you can stay - you're - you're just - you can stay, please!” Now it was Sana's turn to gasp for air, to choke and flounder like a fish out of water, to start bawling like a dumb child who didn't get their way - “Eva you - you aren't cursed you don't have to leave please - please don't leave I'll do anything -”

“Sana,” Eva whispered, and they were looking up at him with shock and horror but Sana couldn't care because everything was falling apart and he was just trying to pick up the pieces -

“Please,” he sobbed, and grabbed onto their cloak tightly. “Stay. Please, stay. Please, Eva, I can't lose you again. Please stay.”

“I-I - I -” For a moment, there was silence, and then Sana felt their hand on his shoulder. “Okay.”

HEHEHEH THIS PROMPT WAS PERFECT FOR THEM AND SANAS ABANDONMENT ISSUES. HEHEHEHE

eva is arkris aka my dnd oc and sana is their boyfriend rival thing. they were in a thieves guild together but ran away. when they got captured again sana used magic to help get eva away before they were executed but when he managed to escape he found they were NOT waiting for him but they just kinda took everything and left. and when he finally finds them again they explain their "curse" (in otherwords this isnt technically canon sadly, because in canon they had this conversation already) and they kiss and makeup. then theyre together again but sana still has to deal with eva acting up.

eva has ocd and ptsd from watching someone they loved die in front of them and has the delusion that their love will make people die. so if they ever get a crush on or start caring for other people they just abandon them. which is very normal of them to do. unfortunately it left sana with huge abandonment issues and bpd. he also kind of minimizes his own trauma a lot so when he sees them breaking down he tries to act as a caretaker and push down his own feelings. its really cool

[xticklemeemox]

The Love You Want, III: Part Nine

if some of this feels rushed i'm very sorry i struggled with the end smut and also the sex convo towards the beginning <3 and this ended up way longer than i thought, which seems to happen a lot

okay fine i struggled with pretty much this entire thing i kind of hate some of it for not being detailed enough but my mind has failed me

Word count: 15,426

ao3

Masterlist

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Vessel was exhausted. All he wanted was to rest. As much as Vessel enjoyed the sex, enjoyed the pleasure and the affection III gave him, he's so fucking tired. It wore him out, the most taxing thing he's done physically in a while. There will be no rest to recover from it either, no death to reset his body at the end of the day. He promised.

Vessel feels worthless. All he had to offer was his body. Now III won't even want to have sex with him, Vessel is sure, and II hasn't come to Vessel yet. Vessel is sure he won't want to have sex with him, either. He'd heard, and well, felt, II and III have sex. Maybe III has decided that Vessel isn't good enough. He knows II must have been good, made III feel what they'd made Vessel feel, if III was that loud, if their pleasure was that great even if he was confused as to why neither of them seemed to actually cum. Vessel doesn't know how to take control like that, never, ever would have dared Before. He could never make III feel that good. It's no wonder they went to II if Vessel wasn't enough.

Vessel... didn't know how to make them feel as good as he did. He wants to, though. To show them how much he loves them in a way they won't get tired of. Maybe they'll stay with him if he's good.

I was trying so hard though, Vessel thinks, pacing back and forth in his room as he holds his arms around himself so tightly it hurts, nails digging into his sides. A silent sob squeezes his lungs, trying to keep up the image of concentration over the bond to make it seem like he was working on something. Its more difficult than trying to fake calm, and it feels wrong to do after III had asked him not to, but Vessel can't help it. They can't know that Vessel is being pathetic over something like this.

He was quiet, and obedient, and Vessel actually ended up enjoying sex for the first time in, well, ever. Vessel knows he slipped up a little bit, but III was kind enough not to hit him over his mistake. They even lied and said they liked it when Vessel bit them. That was so nice of III to do... Vessel didn't deserve that kindness. Didn't deserve III's kindness when Vessel demanded they stay inside, or keep fucking him, that first time. Vessel really shouldn't have done that. Maybe Vessel's actions drove III away and it only took a little while for the infatuation to go away.

Vessel was desperate to punish himself. He needed to. He'd been bad, he knew one wrong move and III would leave him, wouldn't love him anymore. He knew II, fuck- Vessel's beloved II, was far more worthy of III's love and affection. They deserved each other, deserved to be happy. Vessel fears he might get in the way of that.

His claws finally break the skin below his ribs, but the pain does not bring much relief. It brings guilt, and shame. The only thing he can see in his minds eye is the terrified expression on III's face when Vessel had cut into his arm what feels like so long ago. The way II's eyes had seemed to dim, usually such a bright blue, as he forced a smile on his face for Vessel's sake, still giving Vessel kindness he didn't deserve.

Vessel drags his nails, just a little, as he pulls his hands away from his sides. He clasps them tightly around a bicep, holding himself in a hug. The house is silent when he leaves his room, II and III's bonds still fuzzy with sleep. Silent footsteps tread the floor until he reaches II's room, and Vessel is glad the door doesn't creak when he opens it. Minimal light from II's window shines in on the bed, golden rays illuminating the two cuddled together. III, the warmest of the two of them, has kicked off the sheets exposing long legs and some insanely short shorts that make Vessel blush up to his ears. II is curled into his side, face hidden in the space between III's side and arm, only his top half covered by the sheets. His sweatpant-covered legs are entangled with III's, his hair peeking out from under the blanket. Elvira opens her shining eyes to leer at Vessel from her spot curled up at II's feet, tilting her head. Vessel tilts his in return, and for just a moment, cat and vessel to a God stare at each other. Vessel looks away first and accepts defeat with a small huff of a laugh.

Vessel takes his phone out and snaps a picture, or three. The smile that had twitched onto his face falls at the glimpse of something that fills Vessel with more shame. Visible on III's neck is a purple bite mark, teeth indents a darker color than the rest of the bruise. Vessel knows he is the cause of the damaged skin and hates himself all the more for it.

He turns from the doorway, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. He thought it would be alright to go in, to join them, but Vessel doesn't feel as though he deserves it, doesn't deserve the safety and the reassurance it would bring to lay with them. Not after he left a bruise on III. If III won't punish him for it, Vessel will do it by denying himself the comfort of their presence.

Vessel finds himself outside, wandering Sleep's realm aimlessly. No shoes adorn his feet as he follows a small stream deeper into the forest. A hand trails along the bark of the trees as he passes, enjoying the harsh scraping against his fingertips. It feels less like he's intentionally hurting himself, and it makes him feel less guilty about pressing his fingers further into the bark so that the pain becomes greater.

Bracket mushrooms follow his fingertips, sprouting where he touches. Vessel loves this forest, every habitual breath he takes that he does not need is echoed here. He feels it in the trees, with every step he takes. The forest thrives with his presence, and Vessel feels at peace. The objects of Vessel's desire lay in that big house that contains his heart, but it is not his home. He has no home, has never had one.

A snap of a twig to his right causes Vessel's mind to be brought back to the present, to his body. He notices the silence in the forest first, no rustle of leaves in the wind nor birdsong. No animal life skittering over the floor or the telltale humming of a bug's wings. His head turns with the force of some instinct he can't resist, and he meets the empty-socketed gaze of a deer, a stag easily taller than Vessel. Its large off-white horns branch out from its bare skull, a skeleton with mottled remnants of muscle and tendons hanging off its bones. The stags ribs on one side are completely visible, showing empty space where organs should be, and where there is less bone, ghoul fungus protrudes and red moss is in the place of fur. It stands out against the greens and browns of the forest, the red leaves and vines like splashes of blood over the antlers, dripping down from the bones. It steps forward on legs that should not move, missing all of its nerves and tendons on its limbs, just a single step, and no further, then seems to wait for something, empty gaze seeming to bore into Vessel's intensely.

Vessel had seen this creature before, he realizes with a start. In Sleep's realm, the one time he had been allowed to rest. It had been there, nearby, staring at him when Sleep had returned Vessel's mind to this realm. It was such a brief encounter Vessel hadn't recalled it when he woke up, desperate to get out the lyrics his God had given him. He recalls it now, though, with the stag in the earthly realm.

A bird caws. All six of Vessel's eyes move towards the sound at its nearness, ending the stare down he had been having with the stag, both of them still as statues. On a low hanging branch, a crow sits, head tilted at Vessel curiously with a necklace clutched in one foot. Vessel tilts his head in return, following the crow's lead as it tilts its head the other direction.

"Pretty birdy." Vessel murmurs, and the crow stills.

It does not blink, nor even seem to breathe. Then, so suddenly it startles Vessel, it caws loudly, so loudly it hurts Vessel's ears. He flinches back from the sound, ducking his head as the bird takes flight. The necklace is dropped at his feet, and he reaches down to pick it up. Antique gold and littered with coins all along the lengthy chain, Vessel turns one over in his fingers, taking in the etchings.

When Vessel turns back to the stag, he finds it gone, nowhere to be seen. There are no footprints left where it stood, nor a trail leading off anywhere into the forest. It is as though the deer had never been there at all, and Vessel wonders if he hallucinated the whole thing. The necklace clutched tightly between his fingers says otherwise.

He fiddles with its coins for the rest of the walk, running his thumb over each coin, then the other side before moving along the chain. He repeats the cycle, taking in the forest and readying himself for when the others wake up. He's not ready to talk about anything sexual. Wonders what he should or should not say. There is no attachment to the act, for Vessel. At least... at least there wasn't. He can't shake the image of III falling apart above him, rough but never hurting him as they fucked Vessel... listened to Vessel's selfish requests and did not hurt him. III should have, Vessel would have deserved it.

It should be easy enough, in theory, to let II and III talk about whatever they want... but Vessel is confused, already, about what they're to talk about in the first place. He knows if he asks, they'll answer. They've always answered him. They have never ignored him, never made him feel as though his voice is not welcome. He feels guilty when he cannot give it to them, even.

It could have been minutes or hours since Vessel had seen the crow and the stag, lost in his thoughts, before he feels III waking. He starts back as soon as the fuzziness of sleep begins to clear from their bond, realizing quite suddenly that he did not leave them a note or a text to let them know where he was going. He brings out his phone as he walks, attempting to type as he goes but trips almost immediately over a stray root he had not seen. Vessel manages to save his phone from a terrible fate, but not his knees. They ache faintly when he stands, birds tweeting mockingly, and he makes sure to stand still while he texts this time.

(Eepies)

Vessel: Good morning :::) Went out on a walk, heading back now.

?¿?: good morning pretty! i love you see you when yuo get back!! be careful!!!

Vessel: I love you, too! :::D

III spams Vessel's phone with heart emoji's and blushing, smiling faces and Vessel feels warm with affection. He loves III so, so much. Wants III to love him enough to stay, for II to stay.

"You'll grow flowers without even being asked, and yet you let me trip and fall without a care. I suppose you really are attuned to my hearts desire for pain." Vessel mutters to the forest as he continues walking.

Another root sticks up and almost trips him again before he even finishes his sentence. Vessel huffs out an irritated laugh, "Do as you will with me, but try any of this with Two or Three and I'll set you on fire."

A raven croaks out something that resembles a mocking laugh and Vessel finds himself amused. He can't believe he's talking to a forest and the life within it is responding to him. The walk back is quicker, Vessel eager to see the others again, no matter how the conversation later is going to go. III is humming from the kitchen when Vessel enters the house and stops at the open doorway, hopping down from the counter after setting their drink down.

They taste like coffee when they ask Vessel for a kiss, sweet caramel flavoring on Vessel's split tongue as their curls tickle Vessel's cheeks. "I made your usual." III smiles, a pretty thing that lights up their face.

Vessel flushes under the affection, something warm bubbling up in his chest, taking the offered mug with both hands. He lets it warm his cold fingers as II stumbles into the kitchen, shirt askew, hair a mess, and sweatpants very low on his hips. Vessel finds himself staring over the lip of his mug as he takes a generous sip of his coffee, watching as III kisses II just the same as they'd kissed Vessel, handing II his own mug filled with steaming tea.

"Thank you, love." II says, holding the mug with one hand as he takes a sip, leaning into III's side.

"Anytime, Doll. We should have that conversation when you wake up fully. Vessel just got back from a walk."

"Yes, yes, of course." II agrees, walking over to Vessel's side and asking for a kiss.

Vessel leans down so his face is nearer to II's, smiling when II places a kiss to his chin instead of his lips. Vessel leans down just a little further at II's pout, letting the other plant a soft kiss to the bitten skin of Vessel's lips.

"Good morning, Vessel." II murmurs as he pulls away, breath ghosting over Vessel's mouth.

"Good morning, Two." Vessel breathes out, feeling a little dazed from just a single kiss. "I'm... I'm gonna put something in my room. I'll be right back."

Vessel sets his mug down, face warm as he fingers the necklace in his pocket. He wants to put it somewhere safe before he forgets about it.

"Miss you already, love." III says, taking a sip of II's tea.

II grumbles incoherently as he leans into III's side. Vessel walks away with a blush and a fond smile. Vessel's mug has been brought from the kitchen to the living room by the time he returns, and it makes Vessel feel warm, for a moment, that they had thought of him. Even so, Vessel shoves himself into the far corner of the couch, away from where the other two have pressed close, still sipping at their drinks. II looks far more awake now, tired eyes watching Vessel over his mug, just as III is.

Taking a deep breath, Vessel asks what has been on his mind since they first got together, diving right into the conversation even as he feels he may throw up from the nerves.

"Your main intent was to bed me, was it not? That is what all of the kissing is for, right?" Vessel blurts nervously, and almost stops talking entirely at the thunderous expressions that strike over II and III's faces, "It took longer than I thought it would. You waited longer than my other partners did."

III is practically vibrating with his fury, spindly fingers clawing at their jeans until he forces them away when they stand. II lets out a measured breath as he sets his mug down.

"No, Vessel. That is not at all why I have kissed you so profusely since we got together." III's voice is filled with barely contained rage, and Vessel shrinks back at the sound, arms coming to wrap around himself.

"Oh." Vessel's voice is small, shaky, as he keeps his gaze focused resolutely on the floor.

Despite what III has said, Vessel expects a hit for his gall. He knows he will expect a hit... for a long time, but he wants to believe that III won't hit him. He wants the other vessels to be different than the others of his past. He wants, and wants, and wants. Even so, he tenses, and resolutely does not meet III's eyes. That had only served to make his first partner angry, and Vessel learned better. There was only one scenario he had wanted Vessel to look at him, and this isn't it.

III keeps his hands loose at their sides and in full view of Vessel as they move closer.

"I'm going to take your hands now." III states as they kneel in front of Vessel.

Vessel does not verbally respond, does not nod or shake his head, he doesn't do anything. Only sits there, frozen like a statue. His hands are cold in III's when they take them, shaking visibly.

"I kiss you, because outside of holding your hand, Vessel, it is the only way I can show my love for you physically. I do not want to upset you, so I heed your wishes to leave your chest alone when all I want is to trace the markings there, to- To be able to hold you. I heed your wishes to not touch your neck when all I want is to lavish it in attention when I fuck you so you know you're mine. So you do not doubt my affections."

"I..." Vessel starts, voice hoarse as his throat starts to close up from the tears he is trying desperately to hold back.

They slip down his cheeks anyway, overcome with the desperate echoes of believe me, believe me, believe me, being sent from III's bond.

"I had sex with you because I love you, and I've been blessed with another way to physically show you."

Vessel feels stricken, and it shows clearly on his face. His fingers twitch, aching to reach for his mask to hide behind. His bond is a mess of so many emotions that he couldn't begin to properly pick them apart.

"I did not know. I am sorry. I am..."

Vessel swallows thickly. He wants them to know him. He wants them to love him despite how broken he is.

Vessel has always been quick to bend and break under his basic need to be loved and close to someone.

"I am not used to my partners wanting to show me affection without sex being the end goal." Vessel bites his lip, slowly moving his top pair of eyes to meet III's, "They did not kiss me for any other reason than to use my body. They did not show me affection unless they wanted something. Sex was not an act of love."

"...Any of them? Not a one of them fucking-" II mutters, shoving his hands under his thighs to keep them still.

"My first partner had already broken me out of refusing sex. I loved him, so I didn't mind. It just meant a few minutes of- Of his weight smothering me. Of pain when we fucked cause he was... so rough. But he was kind afterwards, would hold me if I asked, would kiss me as much as I wanted. He... stopped being that nice eventually. The others, neither of them ever asked to- and- and I wanted them to be pleased with me so-. I loved them. I loved them and- and they loved me too so it was okay if it hurt- I deserved it. I loved them."

"You deserve far more than whatever pitiful excuse for love they gave you. They did not love you in return, sweetheart." II cannot hide his ire, but he tries his damn hardest to not raise his voice.

"Is that why you were so confused when I prepped you, Vessel?" III struggles to keep the enraged bite out of their voice as they reach up very slowly to wipe at Vessel's tears, hating how Vessel still flinches back.

It just makes III angrier. Vessel had been working so hard to stop flinching, he'd been doing so well. Even as those thoughts flood III's mind, they can't stop going back to what Vessel had said, at what that means has happened-

And Vessel doesn't even understand it himself. Doesn't understand what has been done to him. III isn't sure he ever wants Vessel to know- to realize...

III glances up to II, foot tapping with the fiercest grimace III has seen since he's known him.

"I did not know it was something you did for whoever was on the bottom. Not with another male, at least. My other two partners after him were female. They did most of the work, didn't like when I- existed. So- I kept quiet, and did as told. I have always been easy to push around. My parents made sure of it." Vessel continues blandly, even as his face has crumpled into a nervous expression that screams of despair and shame.

So much shame.

"It felt better with the girls, almost good, even. It didn't hurt to have sex with them like it did my boyfriend. They- Liked to hurt in other ways." Vessel knows he should stop talking, knows that the other vessels don't want to hear any of this, surely don't want to know how useless he was at sex, but he can't, not now that he's started.

Talking about the sex is the easiest part of talking about his past. He had so little care for the act until III pleasured him like he'd never felt before.

"I didn't know sex was supposed to feel that good for whoever was on the bottom."

"It is." II says, distraught but striving to be gentle with his tone, "Sex is supposed to be feel good for everyone involved. Your past partners did you a disservice, Vessel. Every one of them."

"Sex is not a blood sport Vessel. It is not something where you fight for control and only one person comes out on top and gets to feel pleasure. We're going to show you that, if you'll let us. You deserve to know what sex is supposed to be like." III follows up with, looking just as miserable as II.

"I don't- I'm sorry. I didn't know." Vessel murmurs, feeling as though his shame is going to replace the blood in his veins.

"It is not your fault. You had no one to teach you. We will." II states, desperate for Vessel to understand.

"Did you really enjoy it when we had sex or did you lie with the bond again?" III asks, head falling down to rest their forehead on Vessel's hands still held in their grasp.

III feels nauseous at just the thought of Vessel not telling them if he was hurting him, if- If Vessel didn't want to have sex at all and III has just become like everyone else that has hurt Vessel. More tears prick their eyes, and III fears he may throw up.

No, no, Vessel didn't want III to think- This isn't what he intended.

"I enjoyed it. Believe me." Vessel insists, practically begging, "You were the first person I've ever wanted to fuck me. Before you, I had never- I always wanted it to be over quick. I knew they would leave when they were done. You- You stayed. You- Were so kind to me. You made me feel good."

"You, um, cleaned me up after, too. I didn't even bleed and you still-." Vessel mumbles, flustered, still feeling surprised at how nothing had hurt with III.

The relief III feels is immediate, flooding their system and loosening their tense muscles. His tears spill over at the relief, a harsh breath being released even as III knows it should be a sob, but they refrain with tremendous effort. Alongside that relief is the ever present hot coil of anger. Vessel had looked pleasantly surprised when he had said there was no bloodshed when they'd had sex. III knows that kinks can be painful, bloody, if that is what is desired. III knows that was not what Vessel meant, can see it on his face, can feel it in the bond.

"That's what you're supposed to do, sweetheart." II says gently, and Vessel can only nod because he didn't know that either.

"Can we, uh, get on with the conversation we had originally intended, about the sex?" Vessel tries to move on, needs the attention to move on from him even if only momentarily.

II and III share a loaded glance as III wipes their tears. It takes effort to stifle their shared rage, their shared despair, but Vessel is still keeping his bond open to them, is still willing to share parts of himself. They're not going to waste the chance to know more about him, no matter how it grates so deeply under their skin, against bone it feels like. It hurts to love Vessel, and yet it is so easy. They want him, they love him, no matter how it hurts because the pain that has been dealt to him is not his fault. The pain that has been dealt to him has not turned him towards cruelty. He has kept his kindness, kept his softness. He has not let it harden his heart. Vessel is a man filled with love for everything around him unless it threatens those who have his heart. Love for everything except himself.

"Okay, sweetheart. I know you don't have much to go off of, so I'll start, then Three can go. If you have questions about what either of us are into, I want you to ask." II starts off, and Vessel nods, even if he's still unsure about this whole thing.

"As Three found out last night, I'm into edging."

"Is that what you were doing last night?" Vessel asks, and II nods.

"Yeah, I like when I'm brought to the edge of cumming and then not allowing myself to. I find the orgasms feel, ah, more fulfilling I suppose?"

"Why were you doing it to Three, then?"

III snorts, cheek leant on Vessel's knee. He looks so pretty below Vessel, watery blue eyes filled with mirth. "I was being a brat. That's the role I like playing in the bedroom. I disagree or disobey and get manhandled or ordered into obedience. It doesn't hurt unless I ask it to. It's something to be talked over with your partner beforehand, though. I did something Two told me I shouldn't and he didn't let me cum yesterday. That is what's considered a punishment, but one I didn't mind receiving. Its not supposed to be anything detrimental to your health or peace of mind."

Vessel isn't really sure if that is something he would consider a punishment. Before III had finished speaking, the idea of II punishing them was concerning. Vessel could only think of II hurting III, but he didn't feel any pain from III yesterday when the two had sex.

"It would be better to show you, sweetheart." II says when he feels Vessel's concerned confusion down the bond.

III nods along, agreeing, "You and I have a different bedroom dynamic than me and Two, which is completely normal. Your dynamic with Two will likely be different too, if you have sex."

"I'm also technically considered a dom, or dominant. I like having control during sex, and usually don't like it being taken from me. I do like when Three fights for it, though. I know they have no intention of keeping any control they gain." II explains, finally scooting closer to press their thighs together on the couch.

"Well, maybe I do like having control for a little while." III smiles mischievously, winking up at Vessel playfully.

It makes him smile even if he's still confused. "It does sound different than when you topped me." Vessel adds, reaching slowly to play with a strand of III's hair.

III's leans into the touch with a smile, and Vessel carefully threads his fingers down to the scalp, holding his fingers there. III's eyes flutter closed for a moment, but Vessel does not yet move his fingers. He watches, waits for any sign III is going to pull away, any sign they will grow angry with Vessel, and then begins to run his fingers through III's hair.

"My third would pull my hair." Vessel blurts, and guilt immediately floods the bond like a dam has broken.

"I wish you would have told me, Vessel. I wouldn't have done that." III says, wiping a stray tear away hurriedly as he blinks his eyes open.

Vessel wishes he hadn't said anything. He expects III to pull away, but the other doesn't move away from Vessel's gentle hand that has stilled in their hair.

"Its alright, though. It didn't hurt when you did it. I did not even lose any strands of my hair. She would pull back so far that it made it hard to breathe, but she liked that. You were so careful that the memory slipped away before I could, ah, panic."

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to do it again, since it's you, but it didn't make me feel good. It was just something you had done- Does that make sense?" Vessel stumbles, trying to explain but not sure he's managing.

"That just means its not one of your kinks, sweetheart. It's normal to not be into everything your other partner is." II reassures, pressing his arm into Vessel's so their bodies are flush against each other.

"I... liked being told I was good." Vessel offers, with a tilt of his head.

II and III don't even mind that the conversation has detailed from its original intent. Any information from Vessel is a blessing, no matter how saddening or enraging.

"I noticed. I like being called a good boy in bed, too." III affirms with a smile.

Vessel is a little confused though. It wasn't being called a good boy that made Vessel feel good, it was- It was being praised, he thinks.

"I think I just like being told I'm being good. In general. I like- I like feeling like I'm contributing to your pleasure. I just- I-" Vessel can't seem to articulate it properly, and he doesn't know if there's even a term for it.

"You've got a praise kink, probably." II offers up, almost certain he's right.

"You like biting, too. When you bit me, I could tell it was an instinctual reaction. You... stopped and pulled away very quickly." III brings up exactly what Vessel was hoping they wouldn't.

"I'm not allowed to bite. It's- It's weird. And just another of my freakish mutilation habits."

"Things are different here Vessel. If you want to bite, then you can. When you bit me, we both enjoyed it. I love the teeth marks you've given me, loved the sting when I received it. It's like- Like you've marked me as yours."

Vessel ducks his head to hide the embarrassed flush over his cheeks.

"I was surprised you didn't hit me when I did it. I expected you to. My previous partners would have... I bruised you. I left a mark." Vessel starts trying to braid strands of III's hair just to have something to do with his hands, trying to will away the new tears gathered in his eyes.

"Hitting you has never crossed my mind. It will never be something I even consider." III should feel offended that Vessel thinks so little of them, but knows that other, less kind hands, have hurt him.

"I deserved it, Three. I know I hurt you when I did it. I deserved to be hit for it."

"Would it make you feel better if every mark you left on me, I return? I'm entirely willing to bite you back." III offers, trying to compromise in a way Vessel will agree to.

III hates that they know Vessel will likely agree to this, if it means Vessel gets hurt back. They're going to get him out of this thought process that sex is going to hurt. If III is right, then Vessel is going to enjoy being bit in return. He's going to teach Vessel that III wants to be bitten whenever the need strikes Vessel because III likes the thought of being owned by him. Whether its during sex or not.

"I do not expect either of you to pander to my tastes." Vessel states, trying desperately to grasp on to some familiarity.

Fuck, Vessel shouldn't have said anything. He should have kept his mouth shut about anything sexual, for his own sake. They're going to leave him now for sure. He wants them to love him, he wants them to stay. He wants them to stay so badly.

III eyes the expanse of Vessel's thighs near his face, wondering where would be best, before they lean down and sink their teeth right above Vessel's knee.

Vessel's hand slips out of III's hair as he lets out something akin to a surprised squeak. III's teeth do not break skin through the fabric of Vessel's clothes, but that wasn't their intention anyway.

III catches Vessel's confused gaze, feeling triumphant at the thread of arousal now thrumming through the bond that certainly wasn't there a moment ago.

II watches in a mix of wonder and amusement as III moves to a different spot to bite down, sinking their teeth into a different part of Vessel's thigh. Vessel's arousal only grows, along with his bafflement and the blush staining his cheeks pink. Not once does Vessel's bond show any pain, a testament to III's control as they move to Vessel's other leg, biting on the inside of the thigh as Vessel releases a breath of held air.

"I am not pandering to anything. You're mine, ours, and I'm showing you. Claiming you. I've left my mark, now. I'll happily leave more if you'll let me." III says, finally pulling away.

His head lays on Vessel's knee again, a hand coming to trace the line of spit in the shape of his mouth soaked into Vessel's jeans.

Arousal surges through Vessel like a tidal wave at the words, and he wants nothing more than for III to fuck him right then. A smirk slides onto III's face, knowing exactly what Vessel wants and completely willing to give it to him.

III goes to stand, blue eyes stormy with lascivious intent, but II stops them, "Ah, ah, we've not finished our conversation. You can go at it in a little while, once we're done."

"But Two, he really wants it-"

"I said no, Three, or did you not want to cum today either?" II smiles knowingly, a hand coming to rest on Vessel's unoccupied knee.

A pout makes its way onto III's face, but they nod in agreement anyway.

"Words, pretty."

A groan is muffled into Vessel's thigh as III turns to hide, "Yes, sir. I understand."

"Good boy."

Vessel tilts his head, wondering if this is the dynamic the others had spoken of coming into play. It is... interesting to watch, to see how II handles III whining and pouting playfully. Its endearing to see, even, to see III this way. Vessel knows he would never have the courage to do something like this, nor be allowed to.

"Explain the safe word and color system, like I asked yesterday, Pretty." II says, and III nods, cheek smushed against Vessel's knee.

"I'm sorry, Vessel, I should've explained this to you when we had sex. Do you know what a safe word is? Or the color system?"

Vessel's head tilts involuntarily in confusion, and while II and III love how cat-like it makes him seem, it clearly shows he has no idea of what III's just asked.

"It's where you have a word used during sex if someone needs to stop. Its usually used for more hard-core sexual scenarios, but can be used whenever. The color system is basically like a stop light. Green for go, yellow for slow, and red for stop. Red means you stop whatever you're doing entirely, no matter what it is."

"I've never heard the terms before." Vessel admits quietly as his mind races.

II and III nod, having already expected this.

Vessel doesn't understand why they're explaining this to him. Doesn't understand what this has to do with him. He thinks, heavily confused, that they could just stop. They could pull away, stop kissing him, stop fucking him. They don't need to tell him anything, or use some weird color system.

"It's pretty easy to utilize once you're actually having sex, even if the concept seems a little simple, silly even." III goes on, both he and II watching Vessel closely for any ounce of comprehension.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Vessel blurts, brows furrowed.

II and III share a glance that Vessel does not miss. "So you can tell us how you're doing during sex, Sugar."

Vessel hunches into himself further, very slowly inching his hand back to wrap a finger around one of III's curls.

"Why would I say anything if it ruins your pleasure?" Vessel asks, meekly.

"Getting off means little if you're suffering mentally or physically, Vessel. You matter more to us than either of us cumming." II tries, but Vessel still doesn't seem to understand.

"We want you to enjoy the sex too, Sugar, and we want you to tell us with the color system if we do something you don't like."

"We went over this earlier, sweetheart. We want to have sex with you because it will feel good for all us, but mainly because we love you. We want to make you feel pleasure, just as much as we want to feel it too."

"I don't- I do not understand why it matters though. I will be content if only you two found your release. Mine does not matter."

"It matters to us." III asserts, "We want you to tell us if you're not sure about what we're doing, or if you want to stop entirely. We want you to tell us if you don't want to have sex at all. I will always listen to you. Always."

"Okay." Vessel agrees quietly, and III kisses Vessel's knee affectionately, an arm hugging his leg.

II leans his head on Vessel's shoulder, taking Vessel's hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. The conversation continues after a moment, as II and III go back to going over their preferred kinks. Neither have anything they don't particularly care for, but III admits that there hadn't been much want to explore anything. They keep trying to encourage Vessel to add on his own preferences, if he had any, but they all find that Vessel never got the chance to figure out what he likes outside of his biting kink.

"That's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out together." Is what II reassures Vessel with, but Vessel isn't sure how well that is going to play out.

Vessel does not intend to use the color system, does not intend to share his likes and dislikes. Just because the sex is suddenly amazing, it doesn't erase what everyone who has ever fucked him has said, what they've done.

III stays wrapped around Vessel's leg, only shifting positions a little once the conversation is over. II curls up at Vessel's side, leaning into him as far as Vessel allows. Vessel knows III's knees must ache as he continues kneeling, but III seems perfectly content to stay there as they reach for the game controller on the coffee table, starting up NieR: Automata again on their shared save file.

Vessel lets III play first since he's gotten through this part off the game on his own, content to run his fingers slowly through III's hair again, loose enough to pull away quickly in case III does not like him doing so anymore. The other vessels bonds were a mess of emotions, even as they all tried to distract themselves with the game. Vessel was sure that II and III were angry with him. Why else would their bonds be filled with such rage? He must have said something wrong, been too curious about what was being said. He must have made some sort of mistake. Vessel wishes he had the courage to ask what could be done to rectify it.

II frowns, eyeing Vessel as he glances back at the game. "Penny for your thoughts, Ves?" II's voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, trying not to disturb III who is hyper focused on the fight they're in.

Vessel takes some time to think of what he should say. If he should say anything at all. He wants them to know him, wants them to love him, to stay with him.

"I- Are you angry with me?" He murmurs, leaning over just far enough that his cold breath ghosts against II's ear.

It sends a shiver down his spine even as one side of his mouth tilts just so into a frown. "No, I'm not mad at you. I can guarantee that Three isn't either. We are upset, yes, but its at the people who hurt you."

"Why? There is no need for it."

II's brow furrows, first in confusion, then in thought. "I love you. I do not want you hurt. To imagine what you must have gone through, the pain... It makes me sad. It makes me angry at those who did it to you. It is the same as when that bastard hurt our Three. You were angry for him, as was I. It's- Vessel, honey, it's the same thing."

Oh... Vessel supposes he understands, and yet...

"I am not worthy of it then, your anger on my behalf."

"You are worthy of it though. You became worthy of it that first moment you smiled at me, the first time our eyes met. The first kind word you gave."

Vessel averts his gaze, gnawing at his lip in thought. II is glad to see him not refuting his words immediately, turning his head to place a featherlight kiss to Vessel's shoulder. "... It- feels nice to have someone be angry for me, instead of at me. I just- I do not feel as though I am worth the effort. I don't think I ever will."

"It took me a long time to realize that I was good at drumming, that I was skilled, not just talented. That I deserved the praise given to me by my teacher, by my mother's. I never thought I was going to go anywhere with my drumming, it was just a hobby, but... We're going to start a band. You, Three, and I. I know you two acknowledge what I've done to gain that skill. If we never make it anywhere with our music, you two, your acknowledgement of my time and effort, will be enough. What I'm trying to get at is that... accepting yourself, accepting your flaws, it is not easy. It took time and effort on my part, and my mothers belief in me, to want to love myself. To appreciate what I've done and the effort I've put into the things that are important to me. Am I- Am I making any sense?"

III pauses the game, leaning back between Vessel's thighs and looking up at him and II through wet lashes. "You are to me. I did not accept myself, when I was younger. I tried very hard to be someone I wasn't-"

III sucks in a sharp breath, turning in between Vessel's legs to kneel between them properly, reaching out for comfort through Vessel and II's hands, freely given. III's grip is tight in Vessel's own, and Vessel wants to show his support, to transfer all the comfort they've ever given him back to III. Their head comes to rest on Vessel's thigh, eyes falling closed as they think over what to say.

"I saw all of these people, kids like I was. Adults, elders, no matter their age... So many of them in that town went along with what was expected of them and they were not happy because of it. That old woman from that thrift shop we went to... the first time I'd ever bought a skirt for myself was there. I was terrified going up the register, trying to think up an excuse. She didn't care about what I was buying... She only asked if it was for myself or a friend. I told her the truth, and she smiled without many teeth left, and was so kind. She told me it was fine to wear whatever I wanted, no matter what anyone else said. It- It was a very short interaction but it meant the world to me. I never got to thank her for it. I'm surprised I remember that, actually. I thought Sleep had taken almost everything but our painful memories."

"He left some of my good ones, too. The important ones." II murmurs, lifting III's hand to kiss the palm.

III continues, "What I'm trying to say is that, if it weren't for that old woman showing kindness, accepting me, I'm not sure if my road to accepting myself would have been possible at all. Just one person believing in you, believing in your potential to change, to grow, can be enough."

"To love oneself is not the easy task we are sometimes told it is. We are all limited by something. We are all guilty of something. The first step is wanting to try."

Vessel does not say anything for some time. He turns their words over and over and over in his mind. He did not realize that II had struggled with his own self-confidence before. You would not guess it, seeing him now. Knowing what his wish to Sleep was. Seeing how much skill he contains in his short body. It was hard won skill, Vessel realizes now.

III had asked to be accepted by those around him. Vessel did not realize with them, either, that their want for acceptance from others had to first be attained for himself, by themself. They had both worked to be the people they are today.

Vessel, he does not want to stay the same. He does not want to be the same person he was before he became the Vessel of a God. Already, he knows he has changed. It was more than the physical changes gifted to him.

There was not a chance in hell Vessel would have ever tried to lessen his own pain, Before. Every slice into his skin was done with the intention to hurt. Every slice was meant to sting for as long as possible. He never would have cleaned them, bandaged them, Before. Not even when he first arrived to the manor.

II had helped him, encouraged him to take a little better care of himself. He always seems so proud of Vessel when he comes to him, having hurt himself and yet still had tried to take care of the self-inflicted wounds. Vessel never wants to see that look on III's face ever again, when Vessel had taken a knife to his skin right in front of them.

Vessel wants to be better for them, even if they do not stay with him. He... isn't sure if he wants to be better for himself which he is sure is what II and III would say is most important, knowing them.

He wants to be worth their love and care, if what they say is true. He wants to be worth the time and effort they've put in with him.

Vessel doesn't say anything, but he nods shortly, and II smiles, kissing Vessel's shoulder again, once, twice, before lifting Vessel's hand to kiss his palm. III unpauses the game after pressing a short kiss to Vessel's stomach, an action that causes him to let out a small laugh as III turns back around. A quiet thing that couldn't even be considered whisper-level, and yet the sound sent II and III's hearts soaring in adoration. III leans back between Vessel's legs again, and Vessel's threads his fingers through their hair, other held clasped in II's.

II and III stand to go make lunch around midday, dragging Vessel along with them despite his light protests. They stay close to him, giving him simple tasks that absolutely do not require the use of any sort of blade.

Vessel remains thoughtful, truly thinking over what II has said. II isn't sure he completely got through to Vessel about being worthy of their love and care, but this is progress. He never would have believed him when they first met. He declines when they ask him if he wants to join them in worship, and they let him go off to his room without a fight. Each had the same request of their God, and it was better for Vessel to not be near in case he refused them.

II and III kneel together at the altar, thighs pressed close. In front of them are bunches of daffodils and bellflowers tied together with string on either side of the table. Individual flowers without their stems lay strewn about, and a bouquet of the prettiest ones, touched by Vessel's hand, glow gently from their place on the offering plate.

They have been trying to keep their seething rage under wraps since their talk with Vessel. It was not rocket science to puzzle out what Vessel had said happened to him. What atrocity had been done to him, repeatedly, by people who claimed to love him.

The candles are lit, all except the largest in the middle of the table, set towards the back. Their skin darkens, going fuzzy around the edges while bits of black seem to flake off into the air before dissipating. The sight is familiar as Sleep's powers wash over them, as their worship commences. III's eyes glow brighter than II's, striking blue in the midst of the black of their sclera, of their skin.

"Would you allow us to kill those who hurt Vessel?" II starts off, voice a sharp blade of anger.

He tries keeping his voice low, so Vessel doesn't hear in the room over. The red candle lights, golden glow flickering against the sigil on the wall above and behind it. Their God has arrived, and in turn their eyes glow brighter, bodies humming with the presence of their God. It is a pleasant feeling, familiar. Their worship is stronger together.

'Those who hurt him? It is a long list including himself... Ah, I see. My First's past partners. If you wish it, the people of his past still live... Alas,' Sleep explains, voices heard only in their minds, 'It is not time for their lives to end.'

"What? But why?! Do you understand what they've done to him?" II struggles not to shout, hands fisted over his thighs.

In Vessel's room, they can hear a thud against the floor and a brief flash of pain. They both send their alarm down the bond and Vessel sends back his own reassurances, the blurred image of a knocked over stack of books following.

III's hand reaches out to take one of II's once they're sure Vessel is okay, forcing II to clasp their fingers together. The touch helps ground II, to calm himself some.

'You have not heard of all that has been done to him. All that he has done. You are ignorant of many things. When the Fourth is chosen, when you find out everything of import, you must all decide if you are to stay with my First. I will not keep fickle vessels who will not adhere to their purpose.'

"We're not going to leave him no matter what happens." II snaps, angry at the mere thought that he would ever abandon Vessel.

"He killed people for me. I would do the same for him, for Two. Nothing that has been done to him or that he has done is going to make us leave him." III tries, firm in tone and gaze.

'You are still ignorant of many things. Your continued devotion to him, to me, is not certain.' Sleep reiterates, distaste clear in His tone.

"What about the person, or people, who killed Vessel? Can we at least kill them so Vessel never suffers what I have?" III tries to bargain, grasping at any way to release their anger on those who hurt who they loved.

'There is no need. That will never happen to my First. Their killer is no longer of the human realm.'

"So they've died already?"

'Yes.'

"That's a relief, then." II says, turning to smile hesitantly at III, bond still a mess of anger and frustration.

"Yeah, Vessel doesn't need to suffer over something else from his past." III says, just as relieved.

If III could take back those words, knowing what is to come, then he would have in a heartbeat, would cut out their own tongue if it meant Vessel could be spared the pain soon to follow.

Sleep does not say anything further, does not spill the truths that his First has asked him to keep. Despite intending to keep the First's secrets, Sleep does not understand why the secrets need kept at all. Does not understand why Vessel refuses to tell the others what he does so that he can rest. The death is only temporary. With every blood offering Vessel gives Him, the easier it is to bring the First back from his death.

His First seems so sure they will leave him. That they will not choose to stay. Sleep is sure they will... but cannot be certain. His vessel has no heart in his chest, and human love, no matter how strong, can be torn away in the face of one's lack of understanding or compassion or a strong sense of morality. Sleep supposes he does understand, then, His First's worries. But Sleep chose these vessels for him, these vessels chose to live for as long as Sleep himself for Vessel.

"Two and I are offering our best selection of flowers, touched by Vessel's hand for longevity." III goes right into the worship they had also intended. "Oh, and this stone I found outside. It looks like a bit of meteorite, and reminded me of my devotion dream. The stars that were around me."

'I appreciate your offerings, my vessels. Truly. They are heartfelt, and so strengthen me. How are thingscomingalong with the musical aspects of your worship?'

II takes over the conversation, "Well, I think. The record label you influenced has given us a manager. We still need to come up with a name, though."

'I see. Decide quickly, Second. You may leave, if you wish. You'vedone well today.'

"Thank you, my God." II murmurs, bowing his head in reverence.

Despite their differences in opinion on how Sleep handles Vessel, II does love their God. Worships him the same as the other vessels. He will never agree with the God's indifference to the pains Vessel inflicts upon himself.

"Yes, thank you, Sleep." III adds as they, too, bow their head.

Sleep's presence brushes against their back, their marks tingling, and then He is gone.

"You didn't tell us about already having a manager! Sleep's right, we don't even have a name." III blurts, turning to II immediately.

II shrugs, sending down apologies, "Vessel will only freak out. He's nervous enough as it is with our new relationship. I planned on mentioning it when we picked a name."

"If you think that is what's best..." III says, "What about a guitarist?"

"I'm not sure. I was going to leave it to our manager, or put out an application or something. Its difficult because of what we are. I had been hoping for the Fourth to be with us by now, but that is not the case."

"Now that I think about it, how are we to work with anyone? We look... different."

"Masks on at all times, I'd assume. I don't think that's going to work well with anyone closely involved in the band though. Do you think we should call Sleep back?"

"Probably, but it can wait until tomorrow. We'll pick a name first, then worry about our image. Are we done here? I want to see Ves." III agrees, already moving to stand before they have even finished speaking.

II laughs, a sad, weak little thing, at the reminder of Vessel and their intentions with worship today after finding out how he had suffered. It is quick work putting out the remaining candles, III leaving the flowers on the offering plate.

II and III corner Vessel in his room, intending to cuddle him, as close as he allows anyway, for their own benefit. III crawls onto the bed and asks for kisses, eyes a little wet and bond a muddled mess as Vessel sets his book down at his bedside. II follows, slower, shutting the door softly behind him, watching the two as he makes his way to the bed. There are more books in here than before, definitely going over the limit II had set, stacks of them at the foot of the bed. There is one nearer to the door that is still askew, teetering dangerously as though it had been restacked with little care. Little flowers that II knows III had gifted Vessel sit in small glasses and vases, glowing gently, on every available surface of the room.

As III curls up at Vessel's side, his plushie acting as a barrier between them, III notices that the plague doctor has gained a new necklace. II sits at Vessel's other side gingerly, smiling when Vessel tries to scoot over so they all have room on the bed.

"That necklace is neat Ves, where'd you get it? I don't remember seeing it around."

Vessel is silent, hesitant to respond. III waits patiently for an answer, running a finger over one of the coins gently. "There was a stag in the forest today, a skeleton more like. It looked otherworldly, which I know it must have been since I've only ever seen it once, in Sleep's realm. Crimson moss in place of fur, mushrooms growing out between the ribs. It was larger than I was, with red vines and leaves twining through its antlers. It- Had no eyes. Just empty sockets in its bare skull. It was beautiful. A crow had startled me so I turned to look, then it dropped this necklace at my feet. The stag was gone when I turned back."

"If you saw it in Sleep's realm, how did it get here?" II asks, curious.

"I'm not sure... You believe me?" He asks, quiet and avoiding the gentle gazes resting on his form.

II leans forward and places a tender kiss to Vessel's brow, "Of course we believe you, Vessel. If you went out into town, came back, and told me the sky had turned neon green, I'd believe you. I'll always believe you."

"Besides Sugar, we're vessels to a God." III muses, "I can probably turn my whole body into something very much not human. You have six, beautiful eyes. Two is unusually strong for such a short man."

Without a thought, II reaches over and flicks III right between the eyes. III grabs ahold of II before the other can pull away, wrapping a long arm around his shoulder and pressing all their weight into him so they both go tumbling onto the bed. Vessel watches with wide eyes as III steals a kiss from II whose brows furrow. "You're never going to stop making jokes about my height, are you?" II huffs, and III laughs, whole body shaking.

"Never. Unless they actually hurt you, then I'll stop. Promise."

II eyes III with serious eyes for a moment, gaze falling to their lips briefly, "No, its fine. I don't actually mind all that much. I get my revenge eventually."

"Is it really revenge if I like it?" III jokes, eyes bright.

The tension in II and III's shoulders seemed to have slipped away, and Vessel was glad for it. He didn't mean to, but he made them worry. Their arguments never turn cruel or painful, and Vessel is continually surprised by it. By the playfulness that they are able to so easily fall into. Vessel wants that. Wants to be comfortable enough around them- Wants to trust them enough-

Vessel doesn't know how to let loose that way. His jokes always fall short, he's sure the others only laugh out of pity. When II and III danced in the kitchen, Vessel had wanted to join, even if he knows he would surely not be able to dance so freely as III did. He'd end up as stiff as II, Vessel thinks. He can't remember the last time he had danced or had fun with his body like that, simply moved our of enjoyment or because he felt a beat in his bones and had to move with it. The closest he had ever gotten was listening to II drum away at his kit to a song Vessel had written. The beat had reverberated through his bone marrow and Vessel had the strangest need to move with it. He did not.

Vessel is torn from his thoughts, eyes growing wider, as II reaches up and grabs III's hair, slowly tilting their head back. Just once, II tugs on III's hair with as much force as they'd already agreed on, "We're both supposed to like it, honey."

Using his strength to pull his body up, II kisses III then, claims III's mouth as his own at the same time he pulls just that little bit harder on III's hair. III moans, eyes fluttering as they struggle to watch II, feeling II's tongue slip into their mouth to tangle with their own.

Vessel can't tear his eyes away, feeling himself growing hard as he watches them. He doesn't know what to do with himself, and nervously picks dirt out from the underside of his nails to have some sort of release for the restless energy he can feel slowly building inside of him.

II pulls away, body dropping back down to the bed, cheeks and neck flushed red, lips swelled slightly from the ferocity of the kiss he'd just shared with III.

III moves to follow II down, to take II's lips again but II stops them with a simple command to wait. II turns his head to look at Vessel, taking in the light blush on his cheeks and the growing bulge in his pajama pants.

"To clarify before we start anything serious, are you okay with me watching?" II asks, searching Vessel's gaze and bond for any uncertainty.

He finds none as Vessel nods.

II's voice is so terribly gentle as he asks, "Use your words, pretty."

Vessel's blush gets more pink, gaze flitting away nervously before forcing himself to meet II's gaze. "Yes. That is fine."

"Sir." He adds, a little panicked.

"You don't need to use that name with me unless you want to. And I mean it, Vessel, only if you want to. Three is a little brat, and likes to taunt me with it. That is likely not going to be your intention, is it?"

Vessel would never dare taunt II- Could not even imagine-

Vessel shakes his head profusely, and II smiles reassuringly. He turns towards III, who has sat back on their heels to watch Vessel and II, head turning to stare at whoever is speaking almost comically. "You've been quiet, Three. Not plotting anything, are you?"

"No, sir. This is important. I'm being patient." III smirks, proud of themself.

"Good boy." II praises, smirking in return before turning once more to Vessel with a kinder look, "Have you ever had a blow job, my love? Or given one?"

Vessel shakes his head to the first, nodding to the second, adding on quietly with a grimace he tries to hide, "My girlfriends would use their hands to get me ready for them. Was that for the same purpose?"

"Probably, yes. Different parts need different prepping. By the look on your face, I take it they weren't very good at giving hand jobs." II frowns, but forced a smile on his face for Vessel's sake, "How would you feel about Three giving you a blow job?"

"Giving me...? Why?"

Its so damn endearing how Vessel tilts his head to the side, something he does so often, but the confusion that seems ever present when they talk about anything sexual is saddening.

"I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?" III practically begs when Vessel's bond does not dip toward negativity at II's question.

"Think it over, sweetheart. Is it something you want to experience?" II urges Vessel to think it over, and he just grows more confused.

Vessel can only think of how it felt to take a cock in his mouth, the way his jaw had ached painfully for days, his throat bruised from the inside, how he couldn't breathe. The first time Vessel had taken a cock in his mouth, he shoved away, even with the hand still gripping his hair, no matter how it hurt and tore strands free, just to get away in time to puke at his side. He had not been given time to wipe away the vomit from his mouth before his boyfriend had pulled him back by his hair.

'Fucking look at me. God, you can't even do this right? Seriously, ___? You'd better learn fucking fast, fucking crybaby. If you don't want me to fuck you every time, the least you can do is learn to do this properly.'

Vessel couldn't have seen him through his tears as he shoved him to the ground, finally letting go of his hair. Vessel was ordered to go brush his teeth and be back at his boyfriends side quickly, or he would get angry. Vessel hated when his boyfriend was angry. Wanted to please him so he'd be kinder, gentle like he used to be. Vessel had choked on the toothpaste, too, scalp and knees aching as he retched into the sink, sobbing as quietly as he could manage at the time.

Why would III willingly want to experience something like that?

"I promise I'll make you feel good. Whatever experience you had with it before, I'm going to replace it with something better, I promise."

Vessel wants to believe III. He really, really does. III had made him feel things Vessel did not even know were possible, made him feel pleasure. So he nods, slow and hesitant.

"Your agreement in words, Ves, if you can." II requests, and Vessel does as asked only marginally less hesitant.

"Vessel will want to keep his shirt on, sir. Can I- Undress him?" III asserts, crawling closer to where Vessel leans against the headboard.

Vessel cannot stop his eyebrows from lifting in surprise as III makes a request for Vessel's own continued comfort, finding himself touched. Strangely, being considered makes him grow harder, to his own embarrassment.

"I am fine with it if Vessel is."

III turns to Vessel eagerly, trying their hardest to stay quiet and still, to let Vessel decide on his own, but the bond is rife with their anticipation. III has already seen him before, so Vessel nods easily, despite his worry over what is to come.

III closes the small distance between them, very gently pulling Vessel's legs so they're laid straight down the bed. There is indecision through the bond as III tries to figure out how he wants to go about getting Vessel undressed. They want to straddle Vessel, to see him under them as they take off his clothes, yet knows it is not likely to be easy that way. III finds he doesn't care when he glances up from inspecting Vessel's body to find Vessel watching him, all six crimson eyes attuned to every move III makes. III finally just reaches forward, kneeling on the bed at Vessel's feet.

His hands come to rest on Vessel's hips, barely brushing the fabric there as III comes to rest their knees on either side of Vessel's own. "Is this okay?" III asks, watching Vessel for any signs of distress.

Vessel nods, murmuring a yes. The action causes III to glance down at Vessel's lips, finding himself staring without a care for what he was just doing.

"Kiss?" III whispers, leaning in close as they finally press their hands to Vessel's waist, thumbs slipping into the waistband.

Vessel nods again, anticipation making his eyes bright. III leans over Vessel, pressing their lips together and slipping their tongue in to tangle with Vessel's own. III starts slowly sliding Vessel's pajamas down his waist, purposefully not dragging his underwear down as well. Vessel's split tongue slides against III's, and for a moment, III wonders what it would feel like for his tongue to be on III's cock and he moans into the kiss at the image. Surprise flits down the bond at the sound, and somewhere beside them II lets out a short laugh.

Vessel has grown increasingly harder with every gentle touch, with every second III's mouth remains on his. His underwear is growing increasingly tighter as his bulge grows, the friction it causes only making Vessel feel worse. Or better, to be more precise.

III only breaks away from the kiss to slowly slip Vessel's pajama pants down and off his legs, leaving him in only a shirt and boxers. He does not do so quickly, they take their time. They sit and watch as more and more of Vessel's skin is revealed, cannot stop themselves from tracing one of the tendrils of ink crawling their way up Vessel's thigh, as though reaching for the bandages still wrapped there. The gentle touch causes Vessel to shudder as tingles spread through him.

Vessel's underwear comes off next as II slowly slides one hand down his sweatpants, starting to slowly stroke himself with the limited movement his hand is allowed. Vessel's cock is leaking pre-cum when III manages to get his boxers off, stopping at the sight of it before he can get his underwear even halfway down Vessel's thighs.

The sight makes their mouth water, just imagining taking that large cock in their mouth or ass. Fuck, the stretch would be delicious.

"Finish getting him undressed, Three. You don't want to keep him waiting, do you?" II orders, leaning on his side with his head propped up on a hand so he can watch III when they inevitably start.

III refrains from taking Vessel's dick in their mouth right then, letting out a whine of impatience as Vessel watches with wide eyes, a deep blush overtaking his face and traveling up to his ears. They're quicker about getting Vessel's underwear off, then, dropping them off to the side of the bed with his pajamas.

It is quick work getting Vessel's legs bent and spread before him. III stops to take Vessel in with his hands on the others hips, the blush over his cheeks and cock hard, leaking pre cum from the tip. His shirt is slightly askew, lips swollen from all the kissing the other two had subjected him to, and he is staring at III with half-lidded eyes. III wants nothing more than to take a photo to capture Vessel's divine beauty.

A hand slides up from Vessel's hip to his stomach, taking his shirt with him. III's hand deliberately does not go even close to his sternum, keeping to Vessel's only rule. III lets their hand rest there, splayed over Vessel's stomach and feeling the barest hint of abs beginning to form.

"Such a pretty thing." III croons, "My pretty boy."

Vessel's blush gets deeper, one hand coming up to try and hide his face in bashfulness.

III moves up enough to stare in one pair of Vessel's eyes, taking the hand from his face gently, before planting a kiss over each of his six eyelid's. III peppers kisses all over Vessel's face, every one as worshipping as the last. They move to Vessel's jaw, placing a kiss on the right side before moving down to the exposed skin of Vessel's stomach.

Vessel's breaths get shorter, harsher, as III kisses down to his bellybutton and then lower, nuzzling into the pubic hair there before a long stripe is licked up Vessel's shaft. He lets out a whine, hips just barely bucking up as though he couldn't stop himself.

"Want it really bad, don't you, my love? Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel good."

III gives no other warning except for a small lick at Vessel's tip before opening their mouth wide, flattening their tongue, and taking Vessel's cock in their mouth as far as it will go. It is not an easy fit, III taking short, measured breaths in as he slowly swallows more and more of Vessel's dick.

Vessel can do nothing but watch, utterly entranced, at the sight of III taking him in with tears beading at the corners of their soft, mischievous eyes. It bumps against the back of III's throat, but III doesn't gag or show any signs of discomfort except for the involuntary tears. Their bond remains painless, happy even, as III sinks their mouth down further.

Vessel can't quite think of much outside of the warm, wet heat of III's mouth around him. This is what it feels like to be given a blow job? Fuck, it felt divine.

III does not allow Vessel a moment to breath, hollowing their cheeks and sucking while their tongue presses flat to the underside of Vessel's dick. Swirling their tongue around the shaft shoots more pleasure down the bond and Vessel's cock twitches in III's mouth.

Then III lets out an intentional moan, a low thing that grows in sound and the vibrations bring Vessel very close to the edge.

"Can you take him deeper, Three?" II asks, smirking as he runs a thumb over his tip, enjoying the show.

III hums out an attempt at an agreement that makes Vessel's head tilt back into the pillows involuntarily with a breathy little keen. He is quick to move his gaze back down to III, selfishly enjoying the sight of their pretty lips around Vessel's cock, taking him in so well. III looks beautiful like this, Vessel thinks, reaching down hesitantly to brush a stray strand of wavy hair behind III's ear as they take more of him down his throat.

Two pairs of Vessel's eyes remain on III, capturing every movement with ease, while the top pair watches II slowly jerk himself off, off to the side.

A swirl of III's tongue spurs a small whimper out of Vessel, eyes clenching shut at the pleasure coursing through him. He feels close to cumming, body alight with the ecstasy III's mouth is giving him.

Vessel's eyes shoot open when he feels movement on the bed, II crawling towards him with intense eyes. He stops directly at Vessel's side, kneeling on both knees before reaching out and cupping Vessel's face. Vessel leans into the touch,  "Cum for Three, love."

Vessel does, hips bucking up into III's face as the other gently holds them to keep Vessel still as they swallow the cum spilling down their throat. III ruts into the bed, cock craving friction as Vessel's release spills over their bonds, too. His eyes glow brightly, like bloody moons in a night sky, and II's voice is firmer than intended when he asks Vessel to look at him, taken with the beauty of finally being able to watch Vessel cum with his own eyes. That, perhaps, was his mistake.

III is already pulling away when the first tremor of terror rocks down the bond between the three of them, eyes wide as Vessel completely stops moving.

"Red." II blurts before falling into a mutter, "Shit, shit, shit. "

He pulls his hands away from Vessel, afraid the touch will make him panic more. II isn't sure if it was something he did, or said, or if it was something III did.

Vessel can't breathe. Can't hear anything. Not past the voice in his ears, demanding he look at them and to stop fucking crying. Can't feel anything but the hand pressing painfully into his jaw, unkempt nails digging into his face and the smell of minty breathe in his nostrils.

Somewhere inside Vessel knows what II has said, has done, is not the same. Vessel feels terrible for ruining everything, trying to keep from crying as III pulls away and II stops touching him. He wants their hands back on him, the only kinds hands that have ever graced his skin.

"Ves, sweetheart, are you okay?" II asks, and the pure concern in his voice causes Vessel to let out a sob as silent as any other he's ever released.

The lack of touch only makes him feel worse, and he wants to beg, plead for them to hold his hand, or go ahead and hit him for being so pathetic just to feel the touch of their skin on his. He just wants to feel them again, when he needs it. Instead all he can do is lay over on his side, struggling to breathe with aching lungs, choking on the words he wants to say but is too afraid to let out.

His breaths come out in shorter and shorter pants, arms wrapping around himself as he brings his knees up to his chest. He looks small, II thinks, curling in on himself on the bed as if he could become one with the sheets and disappear completely if he tried hard enough.

Gold leaks from his eyes, clenched shut tightly. Vessel feels alone, even if the other two are right there beside him. They feel too far away, not close enough. He wants them near. He wants them to hold him. Vessel wants their gentle hands to brush his skin again just so he can force his mind away from the feeling of other hands on him, other, rougher hands pulling his face up with a bruising grip, straining his neck, demanding he look at them-

Please, please, touch me, hurt me, anything, please-

Vessel thinks that if words could be sent down the bond, his thoughts would have been shouted down the tether connecting their souls.

II must take pity on him and his pathetic form, staining the sheets with gold as he sobs silently.

"Is it alright if I touch you, Vessel? Just my hand, if that's alright, sweetheart."

Vessel nods so fast he gets dizzy, trying his damndest not to reach forward and crawl into II's lap, desperate as he is for them to show him the kindness he craves but does not deserve.

"Please." Vessel begs with every bit of desperation in his blood, fingers twitching with want.

III shakes, still half-hard and struggling to shove away the tingles of pleasure still coursing through them, longing to hold Vessel so badly it hurts. Not being able to hold Vessel, at the mans own request, has to be the worst torture III has ever faced and he was beaten and murdered for fucks sake. They want to reach for Vessel, too, to take his hand and run a soothing thumb over his knuckles just as II is doing, but Vessel's bond is just so overwhelmed with emotion, III fears he'll make it worse.

Anxiety and terror and the thick tar of being lost in one's mind that is filled with bad memories are all swarming Vessel's bond, fighting over which will cover the tether thickest.

"Don't leave, don't leave, please, please don't leave." Vessel mutters repeatedly, so quiet the other two vessels can barely make out what he is saying.

When they do manage to decipher it, it breaks their hearts. "Not going anywhere, my love." III says, watching helplessly.

They take Vessel's hand in their own when they notice him reaching out, only to pull back, then reach forward again. He can tell what Vessel wants but will not ask for.

II and III feel a little helpless as they watch Vessel's chest hitch with sobs that make no noise, face turned away into the pillow to hide. His trembling does not cease for what seems like eternity, squeezing II and III's hands tightly. It surely must be uncomfortable, to still hold their hands and yet be curled up, arms needing to stretch to reach. III uses his available hand to pick up Vessel's plushie, placing it under his chin. Vessel immediately tries to hide his face in it instead of the pillows. It takes time for his sobs to lessen then peter out entirely, breathing becoming less erratic, but still heavy. His mutters begins them not to leave have continued, but the vacancy in his eyes has cleared with the end of his sobbing.

"What happened, Ves? Was it something we said, or did?" II asks, so gentle, always so, so gentle.

"He used to grab my jaw when I couldn't meet his eyes. Jerked me around by my chin with a bruising grip." Vessel mutters, "Wasn't good enough. Have never been good enough. Not for anyone."

"Fuck, I'm sorry Vessel, I didn't know. I won't do it again." II looks so defeated as he says it, leaning into III as they continue holding one of Vessel's hands each.

Vessel scrambles to fix what he's done, needs II to know it wasn't his fault. "No, no, please, Two... you've asked me to look at you before and it didn't bother me! I promise. I think..." Vessel starts, stumbling over his words as more tears slip down the side of his face, "You've cupped my face before, too. It may have been the situation. I- This scenario was familiar enough. I was just never on the receiving end."

It feels strange for Vessel to be the one rationalizing what happened, when usually its the other two trying to reassure him, but his heart is so disconnected from anything sexual that his mind can see what has happened far easier.

"I liked it when you held my face, carefully like I was worth something. I liked what Three was doing, liked you watching. I've never- I didn't know that's what a blow job was supposed to feel like for the person on the receiving end. Suppose I was shit at giving them, Before." Vessel huffs out a humorless laugh, sitting up and wiping away tears.

Vessel hates the looks on their faces, not quite pitying but so distraught, and Vessel did that to them. He's the reason they look like that, all because he couldn't keep in control of the bond well enough to cover up what had happened. And then they'd shown him concern, and he'd crumbled.

Vessel forces his body to relax completely. Forces his muscles to finish untensing, shoves more calm down the bond, forces himself to meet II's eyes, to look at him like he had asked for. They'll be pleased with him when they finish here, Vessel is sure. Maybe they won't look so upset if Vessel offers up his body once more.

"I'm ready to continue with whatever else you wish. I feel better now." Vessel murmurs as he sits up, steeling himself for how he's going to have to fake his interest in the sex.

No matter how good it had felt, Vessel is exhausted. He wants to lay down and beg for sleep that will not come.

"No, it's alright. We'll continue this another time." II says, and III nods along easily, concerned.

"I- I do not mind." Vessel tries, desperate, gripping the sheets tightly to stop himself from reaching out to III, who gets off the bed to collect the damp rag they'd set aside.

He doesn't want them to be disappointed, knowing he is the cause.

"Sweetheart, you just had a panic attack. Neither I nor Three mind continuing whenever you're ready, but I don't think that time is now." II refuses gently, reaching out and adjusting Vessel's shirt so that it sits properly on his body, no longer crumpled haphazardly.

"It's happened before. It- It doesn't matter. I can continue. I know I can." Vessel insists, but II's expression remains firm.

"No, Vessel. You're still shaking."

"I'm- No, I'm not." Vessel holds tighter to the sheets, fabric beginning to tear under the force of his claws, trying in vain to still his body.

"I don't want to continue anyway. I kinda want to go watch a show, why don't we do that instead?" III offers, climbing back into bed with the rag in hand.

Vessel levels suspicious, guilty eyes on III but their bond remains truthful, calm. II sends III a grateful look that Vessel misses while trying to probe III's bond for any sort of lie.

"I'm down for that, honey. How about you Vessel?" II agrees, gently wiping Vessel's cock off.

Vessel sits there, trembling, still fighting valiantly to keep any more tears from falling, and nods imperceptibly.

"You're not in trouble, Vessel. No one is upset with you. We're concerned, and so we're going to take care of you." II explains, helping Vessel slip his underwear back on, then his pajama pants.

Vessel feels a little like he is being coddled. Still, he thinks back to what II and III had said to him before. They say they love him. They... get angry on his behalf. They do not yell at him, they do not hit him. They kiss Vessel like he is something to be adored... Vessel's mind is a muddled mess of thoughts as his present fights with his past over the truth of their words.

Vessel lets them coddle him. Breathes out a shaky, but truthful 'yes' when II asks to kiss him. Leans into II's lips on his, does not expect anything further when II slowly slides his hand onto Vessel's thigh, where it sits, merely laying there.

III hops out of bed first, picking up all of their phones and holding them in one large hand, fingers bent in what is surely awkward positioning. They watch as II and Vessel kiss, a slow, languid movement of lips as II sends down every ounce of love his body possesses towards Vessel's bond. There's a spark of recognition on Vessel's end, a small thing, and III hopes it is Vessel beginning to realize that it is their love for him.

Vessel knows they do not love him, not the way he loves them. If they love him at all, it is the version of himself he has allowed them to see. It is the version of himself that hides his lack of heart, hides his desire for death. A version of himself close enough to his core that they think they know him, truly.

If they think him pitiable now, they know nothing of what is to come should they ever find out all of Vessel's hidden truths.

The spark dies, and whatever realization Vessel had been having slips away to be replaced by his crushing self-doubt and anxiety and aching, bone-deep pain.

II pulls away slowly, ever so gently resting his forehead on Vessel's. "I love you." He murmurs, pressing a chaste but tender kiss to Vessel's lips again.

The smile Vessel shows them is twinged with uncertainty, but he repeats the phrase back with every ounce of love in his soul, because he means it. He loves II. He loves III.

"Here, Ves." III calls, holding out Vessel's plushie as he and II climb out of Vessel's bed.

Vessel reaches out and grabs it without hesitation, holding it close to his chest with both arms. "Here, for if you get cold. Your hands and feet are always freezing." III says again as he wraps a large blanket around Vessel's shoulders, pulling a large bit of the fabric over Vessel's head as though he were wearing a hooded robe. Vessel lets II lead him out of his room and down the stairs while III goes to brush his teeth quickly.

Their hands shake as they do so, taking a deep, deep breath in and releasing it before stepping back into the hallway. Elvira waits for him, tail flicking back and forth as she sits regally.

"Hey, pretty kitty, going to come hang with us? Vessel could use the support right now." III says quietly, crouching down to pet her.

She rubs into his hand as he scratches her head, petting a line down her spine and up her tail that she leans up into. Elvira follows him back to the living room, hopping up on the couch beside II.

"Lay your head in my lap, sweetheart." II offers, patting his thigh invitingly as Vessel flounders on what to do with his body, more anxious than usual.

III starts up the TV as Vessel very carefully lays down on the couch, scrunched up as small as possible, placing his head on II's warm thigh. It's familiar, and comforting. Vessel realizes it has been a while since either he or II laid their head on the others thigh. III picks up Vessel's feet, placing them back down on III's own thighs after they sit. One hand remains on Vessel's sock-clad ankle as III settles back into the cushions, scrolling through an anime app.

Vessel listens as II and III debate over what to watch. When they ask his opinion, Vessel is honest, more forthcoming than he should be. He wants them to know him, as much of himself as he can bare. "Wasn't allowed to watch anything that wasn't a documentary. Or read anything other than educational books."

"Well, you can read and watch whatever you want here, Sugar. Let's watch Fairy Tail then, it's a good starter anime, despite its length." III says, knowing he and II will need to talk with each other, and Vessel, about it eventually.

It must have been his parents, III notes. They're not sure who is higher on his shit list, Vessel's parents or his past partners. Right now, Vessel's parents are at the top of the list, III decides, watching Vessel with an adoring smile. Vessel's book and movie choices so far have been explained. To think they wouldn't let him watch or read anything fun. It explains why Vessel never knew anything about video games, or any of the movies they had watched previously. They'll have to compile a list of their and II's favorites to show him.

Observing Vessel as he watches the show with rapt attention, body slowly losing the tremble, one hand coming to grasp II's by the shorter man's knee, III considers Sleep's words from when they had last spoken with the God, slowly trailing their fingers over Vessel's calf and back down to his ankle rhythmically.

Sleep had said that Vessel's killer had already passed on. III can't help but wonder how.

It's of no matter now though. As long as Vessel remains safe from that threat, III is content. He supposes getting a hang of his transformation power would be useful for the future. They'll have to speak with II about it, since they already intended to work on their gifts together. Maybe they can rope Vessel into it as well, though it doesn't seem as though the other needs it.

III turns his gaze back to the show, one hand slowly crossing the space between them to rest at II's side, just barely touching him as III's arm lays gently over Vessel's form. Vessel huffs out a laugh, pretty ruby eyes sparkling as he finds enjoyment in one of the characters penchant for taking off his clothes subconsciously. III adores him, they think, as their gaze slides over to II who is also watching the show with tired, but interested eyes. III adores both of them.