ephemerlskies · 2 years ago
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The Stars as They Appear Above Us | pjm
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⇢ pairing: jimin x reader
[other members: hoseok, taehyung]
⇢ genre: one-shot, angst, fluff, heartbreak au, college au, strangers to lovers au
⇢ rating: pg-13
⇢ word count: 19.6k
⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, themes of grief, themes of depression/anxiety, alcohol consumption, codependency, many emotional ramblings and existential crises.
⇢ summary: misery loves company. against better judgment, yours sought out Jimin's. from one chance encounter to another, the question of whether your heart could brave the wreckage of loss and still retain the capacity to love again drew closer and closer to finding an answer.
alternatively
“Do you think the stars will remember us?"
inspiration: francis forever by mitski and mikrokosmos by bts
a/n: for my lovely readers. if you have yet to find love in yourself, i hope one day you do. i hope you can rejoice in the beauty and splendor of being you.
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"I think I'm falling out of love with you."
You wished what he said felt sharp where it struck your chest. That it would puncture the skin, clean and precise, leaving behind a sure but manageable ache.
No, this was dull.
This forced its way through flesh and met the bone with an unforgiving rage. A cruel promise that no matter how this wound healed, the scar would always remind the world of just how true his sentiment was.
"Wh-" Taehyung's hand found yours. You were tempted to withdraw, knowing comfort would only remind you of the very pain he'd inflicted. "What..."
You stopped yourself from asking how. You weren't sure you wanted to harbor the reason as to why you stopped being lovable to him. You weren't sure, because you couldn't defend yourself, his mind made up as sure as your heart broke. There was no evidence, no witness, no judge. Nothing, but the rawness of giving yourself entirely to him. Loving him, even when the world reminded you of just how fragile and damning of an act it was. You placed your heart in his hands without knowing it was a trial, without knowing it could end in a death sentence.
"I'm sorry..." As if it could resolve anything, he squeezed your hand. Maybe to remind you to breathe, the way he always had. Maybe to ease his own heart, pulsing hard enough to give life to another body.
There was a beat of heavy silence. A moment to stall, collect every bit of strength, and look into his eyes before you became a supporting character in his story.
"That's all?"
"What?" Surprise seized his eyes.
"Is that all you have to say to me?"
Your throat was tight; it didn't offer much, but it gave what was necessary. More importantly, it withheld what was too vulnerable to reveal.
Because he had everything else that was supposed to be yours. Your soul, your purpose, and worst of all your love. But not your pain, that was something you writhed with, the way a storm-front meets land. It would devastate all the beauty you created, how else to prove your power over something but by destroying it completely? This anguish, this was yours.
"Come on, ___. Don't be this way." Making demands of you after he plunged his bloodied hands into your chest, only to give back what he'd rejected, he knew his power.
"Don't be what way, Tae?" The heat in your face flared, you swore it lit something within you. "You want me to scream at you? You want me on my knees pleading? I'm not going to give you anything else, Tae. Not after I've spent three years giving you everything just to make you happy. I can't. I... I have nothing left. You win."
"___, it's not about winning. You think I feel so fucking great about doing this? I wanted to deny it, shit, I have been denying it because it's you, ___." The way he laughed out spite like an illness, you knew what was about to come. "You know what I think of you. You're the one I fought for. You know how much I care about you, how much of your dreams are no different than my own. I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. You amaze me and inspire me-"
"But not enough to be loved by you." It humored you how these praises fell from his lips. There was no way to explain how he can recite such intimate musings about your character one minute, then reject it all in another.
"___..." You wished he would stop saying your name. Taehyung called to you with too much love to keep your denial at bay. It hurt to be held by him now, even if it was just the way his voice held your name. "Please, let me explain."
"I was waiting for you to say that." You knew you were being cruel, but both you and Taehyung understood it wasn't entirely undeserved.
"I just feel like the only thing keeping us together is familiarity, like being together is a habit not a choice."
He paused, most likely with the hopes you would miraculously agree, that some sort of forgiveness would be surrendered. It was never that easy, though, not when it came to you and him.
"I feel like I'm standing still, and you're moving forward... or the other way around. But either way, I feel this distance that I don't know how to close." You did not have to look at him to know there were tears pooling in his eyes. "___, most of the time when we're together, I feel as though it wouldn't make a difference if I were there or not."
If it was neglect he was accusing you of, your tongue felt a sting to remind him all the late nights you two spent over how he kept the rest of his life so separate. How little words were exchanged over dinner when recounting your days apart. The number of opened and unanswered texts that sit in the graveyard of your messages.
"I'm not saying I am perfect either, I know I'm contributing to this emptiness in our relationship. I don't think I understand you, and it hurts to admit that I fall so short as your partner." Of course, he knew what you were thinking. He knew exactly how to respond to the words that were never kind enough to bring to life. "I just... we need to be honest with ourselves. We need to be honest about if we really understand what we need in life. If we know for sure that it's each other."
"Well, I guess there is a difference between us."
He was cautious, keen of your tendency to be quick witted before you could be transparent. Taehyung's eyes trailed along the outline of your body in preparation to defend himself.
"Even though I feel distance and there are issues between us and our relationship isn't always perfect, I would never give up on you." It was brutal, the way you spoke felt like inhaling fire, but at least you weren't the only one burned.
"It's not always as simple as love. Love isn't the only thing that keeps a relationship alive. How can we grow as a couple when you never let me get close enough to try?"
Your eyes seared. He found the wound. He knew exactly where to apply pressure.
"I didn't know trying was such a burden for you." Frankly, you found it difficult to locate what exactly he meant by this, but your heart hurt all the same. "Just so you know... falling out of love will be much harder for me."
Taehyung wondered how you could admit love as though it were a sin, how he had become the one who assigned punishment, how this hadn't stopped him from feeling the need to ask for forgiveness. And still you were able to lift yourself from where you sat, and walk away.
"___, I'm scared." It was true, you felt what one could only describe as desperation pooling in his words.
"Me too." Admitting this was far more crucifying than admitting your heart would always beat for someone who had forgotten how to love you back.
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It was difficult to look in the mirror. The person staring back looked so much like the person he loved. But that wasn't you anymore. The person in the mirror was the ghost. What worried you even more was the idea of someone finding out what a lie this was. This body of yours, each piece stacked so neatly, as though you could be anything more than shards of loneliness that cut with each step you took. As though you didn't live your life checking the ground that follows you, ensuring fragments of your soul were not being left behind.
There was no rule book on how to remain whole after a heartbreak. How to fill the nights with warmth and the mornings with meaning.
Taehyung would always remind you to lock the door, but it never felt so simple.
Lock the door, angel, don't forget!
Lock the door, I love that you forget. I love being the one to remind you.
Lock the door, and never stop forgetting. Never stop letting me remind you.
You stared at the doorknob until it started to feel like a broken promise, and it delivered your eyes a new kind of pain. One that couldn't render tears, because you were all cried out. Maybe if you forgot this time, he would come running to remind you once again. The way he always did. You sighed then winced. The click of the lock sent a shooting pain in your ear.
I'm falling out of love with you.
This confession began to feel more like an accusation. Your mind tucked his words deep. It never failed to rear its head right before you loosened your fist or a smile took hold of you, right before you almost let your body belong in the world with ease.
"Excuse me, you're next." A voice broke through your daze.
This has been happening frequently. One moment, you're gripping the doorknob. Another, you find yourself in a cafe, or a grocery store, or a parking lot of a grocery store. Your body moved through the world as a chore, abusing the skill of muscle memory to no end. You stopped caring where it took you, because you knew it wouldn't be with him.
"Sorry..." Your voice dragged along your tongue like a limbless creature. "I'm sorry you go ahead."
If you hadn't been zoning in on a specifically worn floor tile, you would have noticed the person behind you. Their eyes, thick with concern, studied you and politely yet firmly ignored the offer to pass you in line.
"You can go, I don't know-"
"Let me buy you your drink." He sounded like rain falling against the world. Inviting, comforting, and timid, asking permission in the gentle way raindrops cling to the openness of a window. It was momentary, the idea of sneaking through the back door to let him fall against your skin.
"No." You were quick to respond. Your heart ached you into a habit of rejecting kindness when you knew you needed it most. "No, you don't have to."
You didn't feel his body brush past you. Could he have somehow known as well, you needed a small kindness?
"Would it be too cliché of me to say I know I don't have to?" He said.
"Yes, and it would be even worse if you also said 'I know I don't have to, I want to.'" Your eyes finally peeled away from that jagged tile, and met his.
There was a smile woven into the way his voice sounded. It struck wonder in you, how he could vocalize something as invisible as joy. Within seconds, he made the intangible into something physical, something you could hold onto. Something a little less fleeting than the feeling itself.
"I'm Jimin. And I swear I'm like... super cool and unique so I won't say that." His hand, extended out to you, looked so soft. Almost as though if you dared to touch it, you would damage something. The tenderness adorning his body only sought to exemplify the sharpness of your own.
But, your desire to quell an awkward handshake rejection triumphed over your fear of destroying a purity you could not find in yourself. And you were right, his hand stretched so gently around yours. You swore it could have melted if you held on too long.
"___. And I swear I'm not always this cynical." It was a half-lie, but today a doorknob made you cry, so you had to defend yourself in some way.
"I think it's kinda charming." He laughed at himself, "I mean, not only did you ignore me in line, but you also managed to call me cliché before I even had the chance to be cliché."
"Actually, I think I was just doing you a favor. Giving you another chance to say something more original." This was the first time you let yourself smile without seeking repentance. Your joy was not a crime with this stranger.
"Mm... well, let me think." You could see in his eyes, he was piecing the unlikely together. "You want a cappuccino with a little bit of brown sugar?"
"How are you so sure of yourself?" Your brows furrowed, a hint of intrigue in your voice guiding him like a light.
"Well, you said you didn't know what you wanted yet, but I haven't seen you look at the menu once. Which tells me you probably do know what you're going to order, you just couldn't for some reason." He paused, and by now you knew it was to observe and conclude an honesty you buried somewhere no one cared to upend. "Judging by the slight dark circles under your eyes, and the fact that you yawned about three times during this conversation, you haven't had your daily dose. And in more ways than one, you seem tired."
You felt your body giving in. He was right, you were tired. So, very tired.
"That doesn't explain the brown sugar part." Speaking to him was easy. You wondered if he felt the same way.
"You just seem like someone who appreciates something sweet in life." Everything he said felt like a riddle, like there was an answer hidden in the crooks of his words.
"Jimin, you make quite the first impression. Are you always this invasive upon first meeting people?"
"Honestly? Yes, but specifically because I've seen you here quite a bit and I've become somewhat acquainted with you." Your head slanted and an urgency fell over Jimin, "I mean... in my head. You're around here a lot, and I've come to expect to see you. Kinda like how you expect to see the same buildings outside your window or whatever."
"I've never been compared to a building before. I'm flattered. It's nice to finally meet you." When he smiled, it offered more than you once thought capable of accepting. There was a dynamic you caught onto far before he did. Neither of you knew each other, however that only seemed to beckon both of your willingness to unravel the best parts of yourself, and hope to god it was as real and as good as it felt.
"Well, are you going to buy me a drink or not?" Jimin was quick to step towards the register.
It was easy to discern you were not alone under siege of his charm. The way he moved through the world, as though it was his to arrange and rearrange. How common it must be for him to acquire small talk and fond goodbyes like collector's items, how many people he must leave wanting more from him. Some quiet part of you ached to know where you belonged in his world, or rather if you belonged at all.
"What do you do? What's your thing?" His elbows rested on the counter with familiarity.
"I'm an artist. Painting, mostly. But I appreciate charcoal more these days. And, I- why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, couldn't help yourself. The way his eyes bore an opening into you was hard to ignore.
"Nothing, just kinda had a feeling you were some sort of artist. The paint stains on your jeans gave it away, if I'm being honest. I'm sure you create beautiful things, ___." It was so easy to let your eyes linger, even when his brightness overtook your vision and especially when he smiled.
"You don't know that. You've never seen my work." Your palm cupped your chin, and you put your fingers to good use, gating the smile that couldn't be subdued.
"Don't have to, you don't seem dense or shallow enough to make bad art."
This conversation uplifted in you something so close to hope. Enough so that when he paved the way to an open table, you followed him like it was a reflex.
"You're... presumptuous." Your will began to subside. The chance of this door you put up to the world remaining felt frayed. He'd find a way to open it. Perhaps he'd already found one.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I do?" His words were playful, enticing you into a game that seemed to have no real winners or losers, just a chance to participate.
"What do you do, Jimin." Your tone indicated you were in fact amused by his prodding. That you were more than willing to participate.
"I'm a writer. Mostly poetry, maybe I'll start a manuscript some day. But I'm not sure I'm cut out for something like that, you know?"
It was after he said that that you noticed a delicate dim in the lightness his voice carried.
"Honestly? I don't know, why wouldn't you be?"
Jimin hadn't been able to recall this budding hesitation when it came to talking with strangers. Usually, people would agree tentatively and construct a weak sincerity in response to him talking of his artistic abilities, or lack thereof. You however, inquired less about what he said and more on why he said it. In other words, people tend to deny consideration where it was inconvenient, but not you.
"I just- it's harder to create a story, and characters. I worry the world would look wrong the way I portray it. That it might give something away about myself I'd rather not reveal..." His neck, sheltered by his palm, grew warm. This feeling with you had felt like a forgotten memory, all the more exciting. He found that more than anything, he wanted to reunite with it.
"Ah, well. I don't know, Jimin. Within the little time I've known you, you've already read me pretty accurately. I really hate admitting that, but it's true." That smile, his eyes waning like two crescent moons, felt like encouragement. "You see people, things that are never displayed through physical indications. You voice the things people wish they saw in themselves so plainly, as if you could see it written on their skin. I think a story would come to life if you wrote it."
"That's..." As a writer, it was rare for words to be at a distance to Jimin, and yet. "You're... so..."
"Don't" Your head shook. "You don't have to. It wasn't a compliment, just an observation. Nothing, really."
"I'm not sure what you are, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to find out."
"If you found out, I'm not sure you'd get much of anything. Maybe a little regret and an unnecessary amount of art history knowledge."
You wanted this to stop, to retract your hand, only an inch from where he rested his on the table. You wanted to leave, to lock the door, to keep yourself tucked away where it was lonely, but safe.
And when his hand grazed the top of yours, you did none of those things. It was tedious to define safety when your skin knew a visceral hunger that your heart did not. You let yourself lean into this unrefined craving, and perhaps be known by Jimin.
"Wouldn't know unless I tried." His smile meant a number of things, but this time it resembled a challenge.
Because the last time someone tried, it proved to be just that. A challenge.
Though you met so recently, he'd already established a clear admiration that extended far beyond reason. His eyes gave way to vision only to find beauty. His senses were predisposed to seeking goodness. Even more impressive, he was someone who could bring it out in unexpected places.
But that was the exact reason why Jimin terrified you. Because what if there was nothing in you, no goodness that he could withdraw?
He was watching you, most likely on a hunt for something. His eyes were determined yet tender as they searched for answers in yours.
"Well, thank you, for the drink." Timing was generous today, granting an escape from the space he opened up for you in this moment. "I should get going, it's my first day back in university."
"Ah, where do you attend?" Whatever attempts he made to mask his disappointment were futile, and all too obvious.
"University of Crane River." As you dragged yourself back into a state of reality, it distracted you from his smile, though you wished it hadn't.
It would be nice, you mused, to get one last look.
"Well, I hope your days get better." Jimin held his breath, watching you depart felt no different to him than folding the corner of the page right before the ending. "Oh and ___!"
You turned back, half expecting him to remind you to lock the door, then remembering it would never be that. Still, what he said next wasn't entirely disappointing, but completely disarming.
"See you at school."
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Decisions were hardly decisions at all to you. You never had to wait until choosing became necessary; your mind was always as sure as an anchor would sink, fate locked into you like a companion.
That was until you noticed the pen markings, impulsive and needful, under the sleeve of your cup. You let your finger glide over the numbers. An irrational attempt to see if they'd disappear. It made no sense, but life after Taehyung was nothing if not nonsensical.
You lingered at doors, waiting for someone to impossibly fill a role originated by the love of your life. You waded through crowds as if it would dispel the loneliness that weeps in you like a ghost. You lived in memories to resurrect something rotting and overdue for a burial. You ran a finger across those numbers knowing it was a fruitless remedy to erase the meaning they carved into a disposable cup.
As the bus carried you closer to the school, music flowed from your headphones. Though no amount of noise could drown the echo of Jimin's voice. His was a melody that learned how to swim.
You tried to keep your thoughts in order by mentally planning your academic day, busying yourself in ways that proved successful in the past. It seemed that your thoughts developed a sense to maneuver around denial, to sink itself into what you weren't aware you needed. When it came to Jimin, at least, you were just the shell of someone trying to hold on to what it felt like to be in his presence.
Despite how true all of these feelings, these untamed thoughts were, you refused to allow them to move you. The idea of seeing him again filled you with fear and eagerness all at once. Again, the decision to hide or to unfold yourself was not within reach. It felt like something that was less of a decision, more so in the hands of chance.
However, he was a writer, you a painter. The chance of sharing a class or even a building with him was slim to none. This soothed you less than you hoped, but then again, safety for you always reserved the remnants of disappointment.
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"___!" Before you had to turn, you knew exactly who wielded such a voice that reached every corner of a room.
"Hobi, I thought once we entered college you'd become a little more... I don't know... calm?" That was the truest word you could use that brushed past being an insult to him.
"Why would I be?" Hoseok's arm nestled along your shoulders, "Maybe you need to be less calm."
"Okay, whatever you say." Both of you avoided asking the compulsory 'How are you' and this was an unrehearsed consideration composed by Hoseok's thankless demeanor. He was a loud, robust dancer with a heart of gold, but no less observant than you. He knew not to ask, not to resurface the pain just below the skin, waiting to erupt.
"What's your schedule looking like?" He asked.
"Mmm." You searched through your bag to pull it out.
"You know they have these online, you don't need to print them out, nerd." This fond judgment didn't stop him from taking the paper from your hands.
"Any classes together?" You asked, eyes static on the pen markings etched along your cup while his was scanning your schedule.
"Nope... looks like we're just gonna have to spend extra time together outside of class." His smile lured one out from you too, the same way the sun channeled light where the world needed it most.
And then, like clockwork, that cruel mantra sauntered into the front of your mind again.
I think I'm falling out of love with you.
"Mm..." In times like this, expressing your care for someone felt like trudging through a storm. It was easier to still, to let the storm rage around you. But you loved Hoseok, maybe just as deeply as you could love Taehyung. There was just too much pain to be soft the way Hoseok was soft. Admiration and guilt forged into one heavy burden piling on your shoulders.
You hoped he knew this. You hoped the vacancy of words never translated into an emptiness he could detect. You hoped one day, you'd be able to out-love him, the way he deserved.
"___, I promise everything's going to be okay." How could you love someone like him enough? Someone who would demand a storm to rest just so you could finally move forward.
"I really want to believe you." The tears gathering in your eyes were infectious, spreading across bodies. Hoseok felt your despair prick at his own eyes.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand it either, ___. I really hate him for this." He spoke through strained whispers.
Before your eyes could corrode into water slipping down your cheek, his lips pressed into your forehead. It was something he'd been doing since you were barely able to reach the top shelf. He knew it wouldn't mend the pain, but it would give you enough love to last the day. And tomorrow, he'd be there to replenish. He was the 'always' you knew you could trust.
"I love you, Hoseok. Go to class, though. You're gonna be late."
"Shit, I'll see you soon! Text me after class!" He called back, already ten or so feet from you.
Hoseok loved and cared with every part of him, but even those qualities hadn't overruled his forgetfulness. Luckily, he always had you as a second conscious.
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There it was again. The memory of that night itching against your skin. It always began so faintly, but you knew by now what was about to follow. You knew ignoring a heart breaking would only aggress it more.
Under the guise of needing to use the restroom, you excused yourself from class. Though, you required more than a simple escape from the small art room that held you captive. The air felt stretched thin indoors, which is how you ended up wandering into a forested area of campus. Your legs demanded solitude, and apparently, running water.
Crane River, the sign read with resistance. Time chipped the paint and rusted the metal.
You peered over the edge of the bridge, water rushing against the riverbed. Somehow, your body responded to this view with a feeling you couldn't assign a name to. You knew though, it reminded you of being left behind.
What good are my lungs for if they stop working every time I'm upset? You criticized yourself unfairly between deep, unfulfilling gasps. It seemed that this was all you could give to yourself. How sad this must appear, a body rejected by the soul that calls it home.
It was true, nonetheless. You hated being you, feeling the things you felt. Pathetically clinging to the rail of a bridge, pleading with water to idle so you could keep pace. If this was how the rest of your life would be, you weren't sure how long you'd be able to hold on.
You closed your eyes, reeling in the moment this morning when you felt your heart beating in the same rhythm as the world, as him. It should have been clear to you how inevitable this would be. You, reaching into your bag to retrieve what should have been trash, dialing the numbers only to hover your thumb over the 'call' icon.
The sound of footsteps interrupted your courage and turned your phone screen back to black. This whole time, your body took in each breath manually. Innate functions such as breathing or blinking had become tiresome. So, when your focus shifted to the presence of another person, your breathing stopped altogether.
"Hey," His melody proceeded. "You."
"Of course... you." Fate had reintroduced itself to you, joined by regret.
"I know I got here after you, but, to be fair, I've been coming here since last year so... This time you're impeding on me." It wasn't bragging in the technical sense, but there was an underlying celebration in his voice.
You were almost too suffocated to do witty with him. Almost.
"Yeah, just waiting for you to come save me again." Your eyes remained where they were before he arrived.
"Is that it?" Jimin's voice grew in volume, even though he spoke softly. The edge of his body now seated in your peripheral. "Save you?"
"Mhm, I was just thinking if only someone would come and ruin my peace and quiet." He laughed, somehow privy to the honest relief obscured under the layers of sarcasm.
You gambled with bravery, craning your head to finally face his. He wasted no time returning the favor. For a brief moment, you were just a person catching the light of another's eyes. You could breathe, blink, and appreciate how normal could feel so thrilling with him.
Jimin's smile eroded the longer you held his gaze; it had you already pleading to earn his forgiveness.
"You were crying?" His eyebrows formed concern so beautifully.
"No... not really." You attempted to lie, but your eyes betrayed honesty to Jimin's.
"It's okay. We don't have to talk about it. I mean, we just met so..." Jimin let his admiration run unsupervised, indulging in how this moment stretched beyond time. "It's just... I hate the idea of you crying all alone."
"Why?" Regret finally broke through the adrenaline, more so when he said things like that. The desire to retreat came rushing, however you couldn't relinquish the victory of looking away first. "You don't even know me."
"Do I need to?"
Why had it sounded like a command?
"I guess not. But" Your throat nearly denied you sound. "I don't understand what you're getting from this."
"Jesus, ___." It would have felt like scrutiny if not for the protective armor of his laugh. "It doesn't cost me anything to be kind to you, but it seems to cost you quite a bit to reject it."
"I-" Why bother arguing with him? "It's hard."
"I know." You could have meant anything, but Jimin, overfamiliar with pain in his own ways, didn't have to know in order to know. "I'm sorry. Whatever is hurting you so much, I hope it subsides enough to let you live a little easier."
"Just a breakup. Nothing special, nothing new."
"Still, it sounds pretty rough. I'm sorry, ___. How long were you two together?"
"Three and a half years." Your exhaustion felt so justified after voicing how long it's been.
"Damn, it makes sense why this is so horrible. I mean we're still pretty young. Three years is a lot if you think about it."
"True. It was just really..." You watched as his eyes drifted comfortably along your face. Even if you wanted to pull back, it felt wrong to take that away from him. "Unexpected."
"You love him?" Jimin's inquisitiveness was partially selfish, but mostly born of genuine curiosity and care.
"Trying not to." The warmth collecting at your cheeks confessed some twisted form of shame around this.
"I get it. It's very justified to take your time with it you know? Don’t be hard on yourself." Jimin paused but even that was carried out with certainty. "He sounds lucky to have someone who could love him this much. Not sure if this is necessarily helpful in getting over him but, I think it is beautiful to love someone even if they aren't there to experience it."
You couldn't understand how he gave shape to your feelings with such kindness.
"Thank you, Jimin." Gratitude was a costly emotion to express, a tear or two expended no matter the circumstances. "You're sweet. I'm not sure uh... not sure I deserve this."
You smiled at that last confession, thinking it would lighten the weight of what was said between you two, perhaps distract you and him from the tears. But it soon felt like a mistake upon noticing it might've struck a chord with Jimin.
"Why wouldn't you?" This was not rhetorical in the way you wished it was. He asked, expecting you to answer, to voice the shame lodged into your body like a dagger. "Why wouldn't you deserve it?"
"I'm not..." You reached for answers that were not there. "I don't know. All I know is whenever people try to comfort me about this I feel so guilty. And like I can't give it back? I'm tired of needing so much from others. I just want to be good. Easier to love."
"For now, it's not your job to give back." How did his body extend in a way that reached conclusions never so accessible to you? “You do not have to be good to be easy to love. Someone would be lucky to love you.”
You watched the world regress, intricacies of this universe conflating into a singular truth. This man crafted simplicity from the chaos. You felt greedy, your heels already primed to run after him, to chase this world he'd created that made your movements fluid, rushing with no traction like water.
It must be a writer thing, you theorized.
By now, your arm had been pressed against his as you both leaned against the rail, overlooking the water. It was hard to release the notion that this might've been trespassing. Closeness, a risk that ended in punishment the last time you took it.
"Jimin?"
"Hm?" Jimin's wordless response felt assuring of what you were about to say, even before you knew yourself.
Speak, he seemed to say, bring any noise to your voice that does not know loss, does not mourn.
"How do you always know what to say?" Everything about you felt dangerously undisciplined. You'd been unraveling, completely negligent to how easy it had been to breathe in and out this whole time.
"To be honest, you don't make it the easiest." His careful nudge against your arm promised compassion without the words. "But, I like you. I like the way you see the world."
"You too. I like how you see things too." Rather, you liked how he saw you, how it never felt like a judgment. It was warm where your bodies made contact, heightened how frigid and starved the rest of you had been.
Somewhere, there was a world where you could find solace in togetherness; the borders of your body and his body ebbing from the way you held each other. Imagining this left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because it seemed wrong, but because it felt so unattainable. It hurt to hope, to open your heart enough that it might discover another breaking point.
"I, um, gotta get to class." A sigh nearly slipped from you when he pulled away. "It was lovely seeing you, ___."
Jimin settled his hand right between your shoulder blades. His thumb tracing out a pattern only he could see. A parting gift, you assumed, a piece of him he felt necessary to leave with you. In one swift motion, you were reminded of how sentimentality was quick to filter your memories.
The way he touched you, so unsparingly, it must have meant there was more of him for the taking. And from where you stood now, looking down at the river, it lacked its usual hurriedness; almost as if it had stilled completely.
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"Hobi?"
"What's up?" He responded, stretching his hamstrings.
"Nevermind." This wasn't enough to curb his curiosity. You knew that all too well.
"___..." He expressed an expectation by calling your name, giving you another chance before he proceeded to more drastic measures. "What's on that little mind of yours?"
"Just..." A nervous tick flared, your fingers finding friction against each other to ease it. "How can you tell if you're a good person?"
"What are you an idiot? I love you. That’s how. You're kind and funny and intelligent and creative and fair-minded and all that good stuff." The question was obvious to Hoseok, so much so that he carried on loosening his muscles for dance practice.
You always sat in on his practices when possible, finding comfort in watching Hoseok move so freely, so determined. It impressed you how he made passion into a precision. Something so prone to growing rampantly, like a wildfire, restrained through the way he controlled his body movements. It was like he wielded passion the way a god would.
"I just don't get why though." You leaned against the mirror, exasperated by the vagueness of it all.
"God, Taehyung really did a number on you. Only someone so self-involved and immature and straight up stupid could not love someone like you." This began to swallow you in a well acquainted guilt where gratefulness was supposed to be, like you were tricking him into praising you. His kindness sat in your stomach like rotting food.
"Hobi..." You scolded despite the fact that he had done nothing to warrant it.
"Okay, you're right, let's not get into that now." Hoseok straightened himself, reoccupying where he stood so tall. Arms outstretched, ready to consume the world like prey.
It's what he always looked like when he was about to dance.
"Places!" The instructor’s voice filled the silence. Not long after, music took its place.
Right as everyone settled into position, the door swung open. A panicked series of footsteps and a haphazard toss of what sounded like a bag followed. Your focus busied itself with sketching because warmups we're not particularly engaging for you to watch.
"Oh, good afternoon!" The instructor was startled, but still maintained the patience to be welcoming. "Glad you could join us. Please, find a spot and begin warming up."
Their shoes shuffled along the practice room, a humble gratitude expressed by the swiftness in which they obliged.
"Hey, Hoseok!" Your brows pulled together when they spoke.
It couldn't have been.
"Jimin, what's up!" Your eyes tore from your sketch pad only to find Hoseok exchanging an informal handshake with none other than Jimin. It surprised you less that Hoseok had already been acquainted, being that socializing was a necessity no different than air to him.
Is this a joke? You questioned the mercilessness of the world. The more you saw him, the harder it was to shed the fondness pulling at the seams of your willpower.
It took a mere two seconds for Jimin to recognize the only person sitting among the piles of bags and discarded sweatshirts. It took much longer to release from him the mix of intrigue and delight that held his gaze captive on you.
He mouthed your name, partnered it with a coy nod before cutting his attention back to the lesson. The downturn of your eyes only accentuated the smile you were trying to dilute.
You selected your next move carefully, similar to how one would play a game of chess. A modest nod pawned back to him, timed perfectly to when you secured his attention again. He grinned without the boldness to look directly at you. Then, a flicker of hope that this meant a small victory lulled your nerves to rest.
You wondered if these uncanny collisions with him would become a routine. This man collecting moments of your life, all to give you a motive to make them worth something. And you realized then there was this feeling posed where you couldn't quite reach. Perhaps it was eagerness, a moment teeming with potential.
Throughout the practice, parceling your attention to anything but Jimin was hard. Whenever he had returned to you through gazes, your eyes retreated to the wall or your sketchbook.
But you pocketed every chance you could to take him in. Jimin was the only person that made you consider more carefully who the best dancer you could name was. Hoseok was still your favorite, of course, but any attempts to insist that Jimin couldn't move just as fluently in this art was denial at its weakest.
Every arch and extension he wielded as though his body was designed to move only to melodies. His arms were loyal to the choreography, but there was always a glint of reinvention embodied by his movements. Where Hoseok sharpened himself like a blade to the music, Jimin softened himself, the way a tree allowed winds to tangle through the leaves. It was full of a delicate generosity, an openness. He must earn applause not only for admiration, rather gratitude for being able to witness him dance.
Jimin was beautiful.
When the practice ended, you felt an urgency to restrain every feeling you encountered while watching Jimin. Quickly, you buried your belongings into your bag so as to not invite him over with your idling.
"I'm so tired." Hoseok elongated his speech, making it clear that even talking was too strenuous. The rest of his body surrendered to the fatigue building in his muscles. "Carry me home?"
"You know I can't but you did great today."
"Mmm... Thanks ___." You laughed softly. Tired Hoseok was hardly distinguishable from drunk Hoseok.
And there he was. Hair worn in from a one hour practice, somehow draped gracefully along his forehead, sweat-soaked shirt carving out his chest a little too tastefully. If you could've brought yourself to look away, you would have.
It was easy to ignore how the students' exhaustion translated as a potent thickness in the air, even how Hoseok's sweat invaded your skin where he leaned his head. It seemed everything that would normally bother you had reduced into unintelligible noise. There was no room for doubt. The answer always seemed to be him.
Before you were able to plot an escape, Jimin made his way over to you, mouth slightly hung and chest rising and falling with intention to circulate energy back into himself.
"Are you following me?" His attention wouldn't budge from you, even with a half-conscious man leaning on your shoulder.
"What was it? Oh right 'I was here first... you're impeding on me'. Is that how you said it?" You laced smugness into your voice like a drug, all the more intoxicating to Jimin.
"You're funny, you know that?" He'd squatted down to your level, now unable to ignore the intimacy passing through the bodies you and your best friend. Jimin could deduce he wasn't your boyfriend, being that you were currently heartbroken and too considerate to reduce someone into a rebound. However, his stomach fell when he saw you exchange a closeness he hadn't gained yet.
He was never one to get jealous, especially over someone that owed no loyalty to him. Even so, it was hard to not cross that bridge with you.
"This is Hoseok, but it seems you know him already." You jerked your shoulder to wake him, only for his head to limply drop back onto you. "We've been friends since high school."
"Ah, how sweet. Small world." You gathered that your response soothed him in some way. Likely because you were expectant of that reaction. Another moment stashed in your favor. "We met last year in an intermediate dance class."
"Yeah Jimin's pretty cool. I feel like we taught each other so much last year." Hoseok chimed in.
"Yeah, you were really great." You hoped this comment sounded casual, uncommitted. But from the way your heart nearly broke through bone, you knew it didn't. Jimin snuck you a smile. It looked selective, a gesture to deepen the feelings making waves in the air.
"How do you and ___ know each other?" Hoseok's question was innocent enough, not without making it clear he wanted details. Excruciatingly specific details.
"We met at a cafe. They were dawdling in line so I practically had to force them to let me buy their drink if I wanted to get mine." A grin strapped onto his lips. He aimed it at you in such a rehearsed manner. "And we just talked for a bit."
"Ah, ___, why didn't you tell me about this?" Whatever his tone had suggested, you feigned ignorance to it, and it had Hoseok and Jimin toppling over in anticipation. You were now compelled to choose what you said wisely, decisively. You kept flitting your eyes between the other two, hoping they would land at some point.
"I-" You pressed your lips tight. "It must've slipped my mind."
Hoseok garnered some energy, picking through the scarcity of words to unveil the things you and Jimin wanted each other to know without giving sound to them.
"Yeah, the bridge must have slipped your mind too, huh?" Jimin cleared the view of his forehead, hand seeking refuge in the lovely field of his hair. Your face stiffened to bury the smile threatening your lips.
"Must have."
"Bridge? What bridge?" Hoseok traded off between you and Jimin, neither of you could bring yourselves to break away from this standoff. "There was a bridge?"
"There was a bridge, indeed." He flirted with admittance, waiting for you to comply. Waiting to see how easily you'd confess to those coveted moments being known to the world, and all the more real because of it.
"Jimin, how long have you been a dancer?" You figured deflection had been your only option. Jimin tucked his head down, a smile most likely being shed in this position.
"Since I was about ten. I started in ballet, but slowly worked my way around to contemporary and hip-hop." He responded when he lifted his head back to you and Hoseok.
"You know, that's what I love about your dancing. You're so versatile." When it came to dance, Hoseok's seal of approval was rare. You'd only witnessed its appearance twice in your time knowing him.
The first was when your friendship was still new, the borders of your closeness still a bit unrefined. He was explaining how his dance teacher had been the one to inspire him to pursue it professionally. You took note of how his eyes blazed, honored to be caught in the fire. The second had a much more bitter tinge to it. A competition, one you couldn't even remember the name of, ended with Hoseok's peculiar silence as he turned the bronze medal over and over in his hand. You were giving him a ride home when he admitted defeat to the one that earned the gold, accompanied with a vow that someday he'd be the dancer others would have to overcome. The flame in his eyes was fed such fierce resolve, and still hungered for more.
"Thank you." Jimin was nothing if not cognizant. His eyes nearly pressed close from how wide he smiled. "You really inspire me, honestly."
You were pleasantly surprised how quick they took to talking, sinking into the background as they carried into conversation that permitted your silence, courtesy of your lack of dance knowledge.
Half of you tried to keep up with what they were saying, a nod here and there to feign engagement with the mess of dance terms. The other half tormented with an insatiable need to figure out Jimin. With every interaction, he unfolded more of him, meaning there would always be something to keep your heels from touching the ground. You hoped to find a crack, any break that would volunteer some hint of what else he had in store. And you also hoped you wouldn’t, setting aside agency over what excited you; the unknown nature of whatever Jimin meant to you delivered a complicated position for you to fill.
You resented yourself for what had always been around the corner from excitement: remembrance.
A sudden but familiar mourning crashed into you like a bird falling mid-flight. There was one person you had known so well. Someone that nullified any need to guess. The knowing of a person, of the private moments only to be shared through intimacy, of hearts precisely sure where to love someone, it could cast loneliness into a graveyard. This emptiness you weathered felt so full. It resurrected that loneliness in you, your body one long hall for it to haunt.
Two years ago
“I can't believe you convinced me to do this! This is so stupid!” Your pleas fell short, not even reaching his ears. The waves had drowned words. You worried that you were next. “What if we die?”
The cliff overlooked the Pacific. The very edge of land, a world you knew coming to a stop, giving way to water. It wasn't very high up, admittedly, an altitude that barely reached fifty feet hadn't deserved so much fear. That didn’t stop your pulse from turning into an unruly mess of panic. You turned to him, unable to meet his smile with one of your own. Taehyung ran his thumb over your brow, tense from worry. It only made him smile harder and fall in love with you more. 
“I’d never let anything bad happen to you, ___!” Taehyung’s arm, as though it was a device to locate your fear, warmed the part of you he had sheltered. “Trust me, okay? If you get scared, squeeze my hand. And when I squeeze back, It means you’re safe. it means…”
He paused, pressing his lips against yours, slow and intrepid, “I love you.” 
It was the first time he said it. Whether it was the way your eyes made the salt in the air taste sweet, or how your hand tightened around his like an instinct, Taehyung knew regret was far more difficult to shake than fear. He had to say it, had to make it known to you.
And your body seemed to align with that same truth. The waves, though treacherous and unwavering, did not carry the same bite to them. You peered over the edge, squeezing tight to the hand in yours, and when you felt it squeeze back all the fear that once detained you had sunk, been swallowed by something far more emphatic than any ocean.
“I love you too.” In unison, two bodies leapt into the chaos as though they were powerful enough to subdue it, or perhaps, become a part of it. The tides ushered your bodies with an intent to pull you in deeper, however your hand remained with his. That same force, the one that helped you jump from a cliff, the one that tread alongside the chaos of water, the one that loved Taehyung, was an anchor that you believed would hold you secure in the ocean with him.  
Hoseok was the first to locate your somber resignation and through a silent alarm, Jimin squared his focus back to your face, glossed over with grief. Both battling off worry in their own ways, Jimin found a release by checking his phone, acting as though time had gotten away from him. It's not that he didn't want to be there for you, to ask you to unfold the pain you felt, to feel it with you like he’d done at the bridge. He did, however he knew it would be more appropriate if Hoseok filled that role. He knew he had to wait until you were the one to ask.
"Today was fun. Nice seeing you, Hoseok." He suddenly felt so mismatched. Eyes following how Hoseok's arms enveloped into warmth, it was an invitation not yet extended to him. "___, take care. I'll see you around."
"Bye, Jimin." You broke yourself in two trying to act normal. If you could speak without crying, you would have asked him to stay. Your hand tightened around the air you wished was him instead.
"See you next week." Hoseok said, cheer still lingering in his voice. He hadn’t spent any additional time letting your change in temperament go unattended. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Really, you don't have to ask every time. It's always the same thing." You pleaded in a way that insinuated this was some sort of favor. He knew it wasn't.
"I just..." Hoseok wilted as he felt your body lean away from him. "We need to figure something out."
"I know." Only you didn't. You couldn't possibly piece together what could be done.
"Hmm, there's this party." On cue, two sets of eyebrows moved in opposite directions. Yours sinking and his climbing. "No, listen-"
"No..."
"C'mon, just like one hour!"
"Hobi." Whenever you whined, it meant there was allowance for persuasion.
"I'll be with you the whole time, swear!" Hoseok's hands cupped yours. "Don't you wanna celebrate being back in school?"
"Why would I want to celebrate that?" You argued even though your cynicism never carried enough potency with Hoseok.
"Because! It'll be fun." Hoseok pulled a shield over his ears when he wanted something.
A beat of anticipation passed. You rolled your eyes in defeat because how could you let his eyes limp on the ends and his mouth hang in such a heart wrenching way.
"Fine." Hoseok cheered himself into wakefulness. Already prattling on about the plans, the pre-gaming, the outfits.
This, you thought, was rewarding enough. His eyes became a house of stars while his smile reached to his ears. Hoseok was happy, and it miraculously made way for you to be as well.
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It’s not that you thought this wouldn’t happen, just that you knew you would never be able to arm enough resistance to the gravity Taehyung seemed to have on you.
There he was. A stunning ray of light dressing him like a saint. You played out what would have happened two months ago. There would be a kiss before a verbal hello. A hand remaining at the small of your back, holding to make sure you would stay close. Love exchanged through a single glance, so palpable you would inhale something denser than air. It was almost impossible to remember why such a connection could waiver, let alone collapse completely.
You were already making your way back home and you didn't want cowardice to strand you in an unplanned detour. No, you were going to face this pain. The damage seemed to ricochet a bloodthirsty bullet in the caverns of your chest when you tried to avoid it anyway. Taehyung's notice of you was tardy, just a second too late to pretend he hadn't.
He hadn't been able to fully drain the life from you, leaving your mass of flesh half-alive, panting like unfinished prey. His hands were still red either way. It's what made seeing you feel vindicating. Him, faced with the aftermath of a mercy kill denied.
"H- hi."
"Hey."
The ice felt so unbroken, frost hardly even brushed away.
"How are you?" He winced at his own question.
"You know. Getting by." Your knuckles had turned white. It matched accordingly with your shallow breathing. "You?"
"Yeah, uh- same. Just preparing for the school semester and all." He was an artist as well.
It was actually what brought the two of you together. He asked for an extra pencil from you in class one day, bartering a boxy grin to repay the favor. Your eyes were still fresh, absorbent of the beauty the world had to offer. You loved the kind of beauty he offered.
"Mm. I hope everything worked out with getting your classes." You couldn't help but reference a time when menial information like a class schedule and a good meal at lunch were things you kept tabs on.
"Thanks. It did work out since a few students dropped classes last minute." He auctioned off a pained smile. You sighed and wished he hadn't.
"Good. That must be relieving."
You were frugal with your eye contact, gaze warily hoarding itself against the floor. Whether this was to protect you or him was unclear. How could you weigh the severity of earning unwanted pity against the punitive fear that he would not care at all? Both resulted with betrayal exploring the parts of you that had somehow remained unscathed.
"Yeah for sure." Both of your voices were forced, held at gunpoint but unsure of who exactly commanded the weapon. "Listen, ___, I've- um, I've been wanting to talk to you."
"About?"
"Um..." His hesitation was rewarding, shamefully so. You wanted to make him say it, to voice the ugliness of it all. How criminal he must feel, seeing you limp through the world, searching for whatever you lost that made his love deter. "You know. About... everything."
"Taehyung." Before, you only said his full name when circumstances called for sternness. Now, it was the default. The kindness with which you addressed him drowned somewhere between the initial heartbreak and the fourth night spent emptying yourself of him through tears. "I can't really do this right now."
"I didn't mean right now, just sometime." Maybe a week ago, you'd fold yourself in half trying to fit into his life. You'd take out a notepad, write down all the things that went wrong so you could fix it.
But you didn't want to be fixed for him, not when he was the one who broke the two of you.
"Tae..." His nickname slipped out like acid. You had to release how it burned in your mouth one way or another.
"Please? There's just so much I want you to know." He punctuated his gaze on your boots, the ones he gifted to you last Christmas. "Please?"
It was selfish, rash. You'd finally gained an ounce of momentum. It wasn't always much help but it was something. Would he really be cruel enough to lay waste to it all? Just because he wanted you to know the gritty details of how he now found you to be unlovable?
You do not have to be good. His words were a lullaby that breathed for you when your lungs could not.
"I-" You felt frustrated with him, released something once held hostage. "Can you just respect that I might not be ready?"
You ignored the sting of guilt when he nodded so hastily.
"Yeah, sorry. You're right. I'm sorry" He was profuse with his remorse. Again, you wanted him to stop.
"It's fine." You said quietly.
"It's just... seeing you now," There had been a twitch in his arm, a motion overruled. You wondered if it was to reach out to you. "All I want is for you to be okay, ___."
"Thanks." This conversation began to run stale. You adjusted your bag, somewhat of a prompt for Taehyung to bid his farewells. "I'll let you know."
It was a promise already half broken.
"Okay." He exhaled. "I'll see you around, ___."
"Yeah, for sure." Whatever love you still felt for him was undetectable, buried deep beneath the rest of your feelings for him. Not all of them were bad, but certainly overpowering and abstaining from anything close to love.
Taehyung watched you leave and still so much of you stayed with him. He hadn't noticed how long it's been since your voice had touched his ears, hadn't realized, until now, that he missed it. He didn't know what to do with this, so he did nothing and hoped complacency would work out this time.
As you left, the pain grew a little quieter. It felt empowering to be the one that walked away. You never realized how much bravery there was in this until now, how your legs continued forward as some sort of defiance to the rattling of your heart, the shivers running along your skin. It was the same feeling of when you jumped off that cliff all those years ago with him. But there was no cliff. Just a person who walked away and hadn't needed an entire ocean nor his loving hand to consume fear.
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Dusk casted a blueness onto everything. It reminded you of the lost things, not just in your life, but everyone's. The forgotten things, abandoned things, things sacrificed and things surrendered. In some strange way, it helped to cope with loneliness, the idea that you were not the only lost thing in this world.
It was cold, a bit disheartening you had grown to feel so comfortable in this. Taehyung tinted the life you had shared, so much that you had forgotten what it looked like without him. You missed how he rested his head in your lap, how he turned his head into your hand when it brushed through his hair, how he used the backside of his fingertips to graze your cheek. It was a source of comfort and safety specific to you, but as you sat on your couch in the fetal position, you had no agency to stop him from doing the same thing to someone else's cheek.
You missed loving someone so fully, missed how it meant you were needed because it made you feel like something.
Now, you asked yourself, what could you be if not a home for his soul? More importantly, where had yours gone?
All these years, you were busy being someone else's. You dedicated yourself to others, set aside your own appetite for reciprocity, as though you could repay the absence of love by doubling down with yours.
Sure, you felt the cracks along your bones, felt the quiet exhaustion in your chest. However, you also felt the necessity to please, the gratification of sacrifice; it drove you this far in life all to break apart.
"Fuck." You released a deep exhale as your fingertips mimicked Taehyung's. If you closed your eyes, it was almost like it was really him performing that small gesture of love along your tear ridden cheek. Almost.
There was one person, besides Hoseok, that never took from you what they couldn't return.
Before you could convince yourself not to, your hand had already dialed in Jimin's number. And without attempting to rationalize it, you called him.
The rings felt like an alarm, warning you to end the call.
The ringing ceased, your pulse raged through your body.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"Hi." You said instead, knowing it confessed what you couldn't say out loud.
"___." He said, as though he was expecting this. And for some reason, it eased you.
Your hand dropped from your cheek.
"How are you?" He asked without sounding burdened by the unplanned call.
"I'm fine."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"You called me just to say 'I'm fine' and 'mhm'?" He laughed fondly.
"Um... It's stupid, really. I- uh- wanted to hear your voice."
His laugh, even as it filtered through the phone, was lively, colorful. The room around you was a bit less blue, you could have sworn it. You had to stop yourself from thanking him out loud.
"It's not stupid. It's sweet."
"It's not... really. If I'm being honest, it's selfish. I'm just..." You sucked some air in. "Lonely."
His pause meant many things to you, all at once. Even in silence, you felt so much to decipher with him.
"I'm sorry. I get lonely too." Another part of him served to you, eager to be devoured. If a man like Jimin could be lonely, maybe you weren’t a lost cause.
"I guess it's pretty normal. To feel alone."
"Yeah, but it shouldn't be." 
"Yeah." Your voice was feeble.
"Hey, can I tell you something?" He asked.
"Sure."
"I'm selfish too." Jimin said this quietly, a hushed guilt overlayed his voice.
"How?"
"You remind me of someone. Someone I miss a lot."
"Oh."
"They passed away."
"Oh."
"Does that scare you?"
"No,” You contemplated. “I wouldn't use that word."
"Okay, that's good."
"Was it someone close?"
"The closest."
"That's really heartbreaking. I'm so sorry, Jimin."
"Thank you." He wasn't sure where his gratefulness came from, just that when you saw his pain he felt the need to thank you for it. "They were an artist. Just like you."
"When you said you like me..." You hated yourself for needing to ask.
"Yeah?"
"It was them you liked? Them you were looking for?"
"Well... Not exactly but... I... maybe a bit."
Your skin softened like a bruise. It wasn't betrayal, but it wasn’t exactly virtuous either. You wished it just felt okay, endearing to be someone that resembled such a beloved person in his life. You wished it felt like admiration only, and not another proposition to lessen yourself for the sake of someone else. 
You weren't sure if you were justified in feeling this, but you couldn't stop yourself from hurting.
He wasn't sure if he truly wanted you to become a replacement for his friend, but if you started to, he wouldn't know if he'd be able to stop you. If he'd want to.
"I see."
"I-" The panic was palpable, dry. It drained the simplicity that once made sense of the world, the one Jimin breathed life into just to drown it again. "I still like you though. You, not just because of the person I miss. I know it's not the same. You just remind me of them, that's all."
You wanted to be so much more than a reminder of someone who he missed loving, someone he needed back. But you were afraid of even having this desire. These tears were viscous, dread sinking down your face, wet and brutal. And at the same time, you were guilty just as much as he was. Had you not been tracing along the lines Taehyung had drawn first, just moments ago been failing to replicate an intimacy that you felt could be satiated through hearing his voice? 
You wanted to accept this part of life, the part that was messy. For once, you wanted to be messy, to create havoc with Jimin and walk away unconcerned with who would be the one to clean it all up. Everything in you felt a strong gravitation to forgive what hadn't been apologized for, to put those parts of his grief he could no longer carry into your own hands, to hold it for him just so he could know weightlessness again. The same way he had recolored the word for you.
How bad could the mess be if it was so beautiful and light?
"No, don't say sorry, please. I’m flattered, I think." You muted your microphone, let yourself weep with slightly more sound. Your pain could not be known. Partly because it hadn’t felt right to let it be. Mostly because you were scared. "I'm just... I'm sorry. Who was this person?"
"A dear friend. I'd known them for so long. We grew up together. Shared so much. I never thought I'd have to live life without them. I'm not sure I know how to." There had been a gentle tremor in his voice, though it was not out of fear. He did not agonize over judgment, not with you. Perhaps it's because he somehow knew when he spoke, it felt like he was reciting your own thoughts back to you.
"How long ago was it?"
"Two years ago."
"I'm sure it must not feel that way."
"Yeah... You know, I haven't taken a picture since?" He admitted and almost laughed at his own absurdity.
"Why's that?"
"It would require me to open my photo album, to see all the pictures we had. There's so many. I can't even bring myself to look." This was only half of the story. The other part was that he didn't want to capture life through photos and suddenly make it real. His camera roll void of moments that were without them. He never left denial. It was the safest stage of grief. One that did not catalyze death.
"Jesus. I know grief never really stops, but it doesn't even slow down, huh?"
"Pretty much. Um-" His voice didn't have the strength to silence his pain and neither did his eyes. "We used to always go to this cafe together, even when we were definitely too young to go alone. Our parents weren't the most careful, but that's another story. Anyway, it was always like a safe place for us, a second home. They took me there when I got in this huge fight with my dad, bought me hot chocolate. And I took them there when they came out to their parents, and were threatened to be sent away to some camp. It was an empty threat, but still. It was uh, actually the cafe we met at.
It's dumb, frankly. I just sit in there for hours and hope that maybe, if I wait long enough, they'll walk through the door and everything will be normal again. I'd get to see their smile. Hear their laugh, talk about their day. I could wait forever, live off scones and lattes. I still remember their drink order, still want to order it when I order my own."
"Jimin. It's not dumb at all. It's quite possibly the most devastatingly beautiful and human thing to do." It was out in the open now, the way you were weeping for him. No possible way to hide it, not when he'd offered such genuine pain to you. You tried to picture everything he told you, to honor the life that had been lost by making it real in your head, making them exist in the world even more by searing it into your memory. You felt it was the least you could do.
"Think so?" He didn't want to talk over the phone anymore. Now, he wanted to be able to see your face, whatever it could reveal to him, perhaps wipe your tears away. "I've never told anyone this. I'm sure they wouldn't see it the way you do."
You thought it parallel to a crime to know what Jimin does and think of it as anything but the utmost act of love.
"This whole time, it must have been so confusing for you. So hard to find hope. So lonely. And still, you're this... you're kind and unafraid of love, even when the worst of life tries to destroy the very idea of it. You're the one mourning someone, and you still listen to me cry over a stupid boy who broke up with me." You laughed, not out of humor. Perhaps remorse or irony. "I- It's unfair, someone like you had to go through this. All that love you have. I wish you had somewhere to put it."
"You-." Even though the subject matter had been locked in the rawest, most painful part of him, he felt warmth, felt your care blossoming in him like Spring. "I feel so seen with you, ___. I can't tell you how much it means to me. How much you mean to me."
"You... mean a lot to me too, Jimin."
It was true, he meant a lot. The fine print of said meaning was something you decided not to examine. For now.
╌──────────═❁═──────────╌
You already knew Jimin would be at the party. Hoseok was always so quick to share intel about the social life you were never so keen on. You could only contribute to socialization within the parameters of Hoseok. With him, you'd been able to hold conversations, elicit a laugh or two, garner acquaintances that exchanged nods as you passed by them on campus. Though, nothing seemed to stick with you. Those connections were a spark bound to fade.
This made you wonder how long it would take for Jimin's interest in you to expire. Even though you knew your connection with him was much deeper, you saved room for disappointment. Old habits die hard and this one felt immortal.
Your clothes could barely do its job tonight. Resting slightly askew, seams etching discomfort along your sides at just the right angle. But you'd already tried using this as an excuse to skip the party. The taxi two minutes away from the address denoted how weakly your complaints pushed against Hoseok. He knew how hollow they were, and hadn't bothered refuting such backless protests.
The music spilled from any opening that would allow it. There was some form of chaos contained in the house before you and Hoseok. You were incredibly out of your depth, hand gripping your friend's forearm. He winced, trying to fend off the slight burn at the sinking of your fingernails.
"Alright. Game plan." He turned to you. "Let's immediately try to find something to get us more drunk."
You nodded along like a cadet following orders. It made Hoseok chuckle, seeing you stiff and earnest.
"Just relax, ___" He ran his hands up and down your arms. "We already had like two or so shots, it shouldn't be too hard to get tipsy enough to enjoy ourselves."
You appreciated how he used inclusive language like 'we' and 'our'. The two of you, a team. He involved himself in your feelings, ensuring you never actually took to heart how truly out of place you were.
"Sure, sure." Your agreement only surfaced because of a six-year and counting trust in him. "Just need to find some vodka or something."
"Yes! God, I love drunk ___. You get so giggly and excited." He smiled, leading the way to the front door.
Inside, a tumultuous scene laid out like a battlefield. There was nonstop movement, a body always knocking into another, a place more exciting than the last. Your hopes to source any kind of alcohol began to recede. It wasn't a particularly overpopulated party, but you could feel the hunger, how rapidly these people took to abandoning their sobriety.
"Follow me!" He hitched his voice to a half-scream, barking an order that sounded more like a warning since he held your hand tightly and began dragging you mid-sentence.
"Okay!" You were lucky to be caught in Hoseok's wake. A few unknown faces recognized him, making way with an eager greeting.
"Hoseok, what's up?"
"Hoseok! Finally showed up!"
Many more renditions of these circulated on the way to find drinks. One person, however, hadn't crossed paths with you yet. You warded off disappointment through your continual search for him.
The mini bar sat against the back wall of the room, a few people departing as quickly as they approached. To your delight, it was still stocked, generously so.
"Who the hell is hosting this party?" This question was provoked by the sheer amount of alcohol and variety in this corner of the world.
"Honestly? Not too sure, but they're probably rich as fuck." He responded, already sifting through the options.
"Hey, glad the two of you made it." This was the first person to signify your presence, acknowledge your quiet company with Hoseok. You knew it had to be him. You knew, because suddenly, you captured that rare sense of belonging.
"Jimin!" Hoseok may have voiced excitement, but it had not surmounted yours. As you turned to him, you felt your words catch in your throat.
It was nothing spectacular, nothing you'd remember on anyone else. His hair styled in a way that accentuated the beauty dressing his features like a picture frame. His loosely fitted button up, undone at the top, sleeves folded halfway up his forearms, revealing just enough to want more.
"Hey!"
"Hi!"
The two of you had indecisively stood across from one another, unsure where to go from here. Your bodies a soft rebellion to the movement surrounding you. How easy it would have been to reach out, collect his warmth as your own through embrace.
Hoseok broke the stillness, handing both of you a shot glass full of something clear and pungent. Jimin watched you take it from him, steadying Hoseok's erratic movements with your palms, hands so gentle they made him into something delicate, soft, easily broken, and yet shielded from harm by how your fingers curled over his skin. He watched, treading in wonder of what it felt like to be touched in such a manner by you.
"Okay, cheers!" You spoke through a laugh, interrupting Jimin's reverie.
The shot slid like hot coal down your throat. Hoseok's face contracted into itself while you steadied your breathing to keep it from coming back up. The punishing taste nearly made all this not worth the trouble. But tonight, you wanted to breathe again, to throw fear in the air, even if it meant there would be a crash landing. Tonight, you left your grief waiting at the door. Jimin had done the same.
"Okay another!" 
"Damn, ___! I didn't expect you to be such a..." Jimin cautioned, making note of your spirited smile, "wild card."
"Oh this?" You'd finished pouring a second shot, holding out the bottle to the lip of his glass, alcohol eager to fill the emptiness. "This is just free therapy."
"___'s kidding. Kind of. It's like the only idea I had left that might pull them out of their slump." Hoseok explained.
"Ah, yes. The heartbreak." Jimin spoke as though it was an admittance to something.
"He knows?"
"He does." You confessed on behalf of him.
"How?"
"The bridge."
"The bridge." Hoseok's emphasis on the word assigned notoriety to that moment that was now referred to as ‘The Bridge’. Had your eyes been on Hoseok's investigative grin, you would have been more subtle. Jimin was too magnetizing. An affair of longing and reticence traveling from your smile to his.
"You know, I'm very excited to see how this goes." Jimin toasted, another shot of liquid courage burying your inhibitions as you gulped it down.
The three of you basked in laughter, excavating a bit of the tension. The fragments of your joy felt so complete with them, pulling from the bottom of your gut and falling into your hands like a long lost friend.
About three more shots in, you had to allocate more attention on where your feet landed. Your hands frantic for a crutch when your head couldn't provide stability or balance. Hoseok would be given hell for breaking the pact, wandering into the dance scene when he heard his favorite song playing. But you had Jimin, and Hoseok must've known that there was security for you in that, one more reason, besides him, to stay.
"Jimin!" Words sloppy and undressed of reserve, you let them rise from a part of you not often shown to the public eye. "You know something about you!"
"What? Tell me." He smiled. Tequila was a convenient scapegoat for how his hand found comfort on the groove of your waist, how your body curved against the invisible partition once held firm by sobriety. Jimin labored to keep his heart rhythmic upon feeling your torso fitting into the crooks of his so neatly.
"You, Jimin," Your hand slammed into his chest, "You are very, very troublesome for me."
"Why's that?" A glint of hope painted his words. His cheeks were a shade of desire that nearly formed a plea in the soft, pink expanse.
"Because..." The fabric of his shirt was welcoming as you inched your hand lightly along it just to feel the texture, and nothing else. At least, that's what you told yourself. "I was safe."
"What do you mean?" Curiosity settled in.
"I was safe," You rolled your head off kilter, a result of the drunken lapse in your neck muscles. His hand was quick to cradle your head back to the close quarters. "I was just in my own little world... I could just mope around all day. I was so close to being okay with loneliness. And then you came along."
You felt that your skin being the only part of you shared with him was not enough now. The boundaries contrived of fear had withered, and holding your bodies tightly together hadn't sufficed for the closeness you craved. You wanted to feel him in ways not derived from physicality, like if you pressed your hand deep enough into his chest, it would be no different than his own beating heart.
He had a mole on his neck. For some reason, you loved that he had a mole on his neck. Your finger had disobediently grazed against it. He tried not to let it show physically how it excited him, but you took notice of his Adam's apple rising then falling.
"Jimin." His name formed like a prayer in your mouth. "What do I do now that you've become a part of my world?"
"I-" He took in air sharply through a clenched jaw, hoping courage would follow suit. "I can't decide that for you."
Jimin embarked on his usual journey along your face, drifting down to your lips and staying there uncharacteristically long. They twitched under the cinch of his eyes.
"Hey." You whispered. "Can I- I want to..."
Before continuing, you drew in close. You barely spared any space between your soft breath and the shell of his ear.
"Kiss you."
"Yes." He swallowed what was left of his dignity and let the chill of how your fingers ghosted along his neck calm him. "I mean... please. I want you."
"Jimin." You pleaded back, only to make him, this moment, more real from the utterance of his name.
His thumb flushed restraint away from you, sliding down the curve of your cheek and gliding across your lower lip. There might have been a better, more responsible way to release the pressure building between two bodies needing more from one another. However, it didn't matter. Not when your thoughts stilled, when he took his lower lip between his teeth in an effort to make himself pliant so you could decide what was going to happen, when the world quieted into a whisper, then silence.
A collision transpired, erupting from the friction of your lips tangling messily, greedily into Jimin's.
He kissed you the same way he danced, soft and experienced, as though this was something he had rehearsed for. How many times had this moment been a fantasy starved in Jimin's mind? You couldn't bring yourself to find an answer, to care. When the warm flush of his tongue introduced itself to you, everything in you was dedicated to giving sustenance to him.
His hands held you, moving in ways that only brought you closer. Jimin was pulling threads loose, unraveling into a mess that only knew how to want you. Your back was warm where his need pressed into you, and you returned the favor with how your hands brushed into his hair.
"___." His voice, echoing into you, speaking life into you. Reinventing you, through the way he said your name. "Not bad too bad of a kisser."
Both your eyes had been lidded, found it difficult to open them and make what just happened real. But he knew your smile emerged, feeling your lips stretch into joy.
"Shut up." You nudged him. And when his body leaned, yours followed, crashing against him like a tide on the shore. You opened your eyes, feeling emboldened yet slightly unprepared. "Jimin."
Open your eyes, you pleaded, I want this to be real. I want to be found by you, now.
And when he did, his finger wiped a tear away, one that did not ask permission to fall. Something in your body had sunken and fear had infiltrated where desire had once sat. What could he possibly find in you that Taehyung couldn't? What could you be for him if not the remnants of someone he loved more? This was maybe too advantageous, too much for your brokenness, his brokenness to handle. You cried harder, but remained soundless.
I'm falling out of love with you.
What if it happened again?
"Don't cry. I'll shut up, if that's really what you want." His joke landed him another smile from you. "Did I- Was this not okay? Not what you wanted?"
"No!" You said with such immediacy. "I- it's exactly what I wanted. I'm-"
"What's wrong?" You hated when he did this. When the confusion, the implausibility of it all had lost its stake. His tone, it was comforting, tempting and made this so difficult.
"I don't know. But there's something wrong with this... with us." You'd stopped trying to figure out the tears, but he had not stopped his hands from cleaning up the mess of frustration falling against your cheeks.
"Why? Why does there have to be? Why can't it just be simple? Just a person who kisses another person. Why can't it be right for you?" He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of this.
"It's just not, okay? I haven't figured it all out but it's not. There's too many things. Both with me and you." Jimin winced when you freed yourself from his arms as though you'd severed off a body part of his own.
"___. Don't do this. Just stay." He managed to grab hold of your hand, holding tightly. Holding, thinking it was the only way to keep his limbs intact. "Please, stay."
"I can't. It would be too hard..." You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to soak in what he felt like. "to keep myself from you. And when- if I kiss you again..."
Jimin's eyes set fire to the spark in your body.
"I want it to be right. For the both of us." Your feet found its grip, all the empty noise clearing away for your voice. Because you knew you were right, you hadn't felt this determined for something in a long time. Whatever it meant to make this moment right, it would be something you found out for yourself.
"If that's what you need." His lips pursed. Words he'd wanted to say sealed for your sake. "Can I see you again soon, at least?"
"Of course." Your hand fell to your side, finally, resigning once again to solitude.
He nodded, already forgiving towards the things he never knew he could miss from someone other than his late friend. You saw hope strangled into disappointment. You wanted so badly to keep true to this promise, only if fear would allow such grace.
"Bye, Jimin." His heart jumped. There was a faint finality in your farwell.
"Bye , ___." He watched you leave, losing sight as your body was swallowed by the crowd. It looked the way the light filters through the trees, like starlight that finds a pocket to hide in during the day.
You found it was easier to just let the crowd move you rather than moving yourself. You knew it would land you somewhere on the outside of the mess of dancing and laughing and talking. On the way, you spotted Hoseok, smiling and dancing so radiantly.
"Hobi!"
"___!" He grabbed both your hands, leading you into a groove to the music.
"Very funny." You played along for a bit, only because you hadn't been able to spend a lot of time with him. "Hey, listen! I'm gonna go!"
"What?" He bent down so he was in a better earshot of you.
"I'm leaving! Going home!" The frenetic swaying around you only reminded you of why.
"Why?" His voice, tense and sharp, made you laugh, only to ease his worry.
"It's okay, Hobi! I had a great time, I'm just tired!"
"Okay well I'm coming with you then, just give me a few." He said decidedly to which you shook your head with more firmness.
"No! You're having fun. I'll be okay." You brought him close, hugging until his body was convinced away from tensing. "I'll text you when I'm home safe."
You knew that offer would deliver the final blow, his protectiveness satiated.
"Okay, love you, ___. Thanks for coming. I hope it helped you."
On the one hand, Taehyung had only entered your mind once tonight. Admittedly, this was an accomplishment to some degree. Memories staying put, for the most part, staying exactly what they were supposed to be: memories, and not the past persisting through grief. Your mind kept busy with more pressing matters.
"I think it did help, actually. There are some things I need to figure out. Love you, Hobi."
He nodded, archiving the questions he'd already begun forming for a later time. You smiled and made your way to the door.
The air was crisp, abundant. A slight breeze pulled the residual heat of the party from your face. You knew things would be different after tonight. Whatever conclusions it could make about Taehyung, or endeavors it would make with Jimin, all that lied so far from where you were now. For now you stood still, eyes shut, and let your hands unfold at your side, waiting to receive.
╌──────────═❁═──────────╌
“I came here as fast as I could.” Hoseok panted out with hands full of two wine bottles and an assortment of snacks. You smiled, even a meek laugh found its way between the fever of your tears. “God, look at you.”
He ushered past you, setting down the empty calories and alcohol on your counter before swiftly wrapping you in his arms. At this, the tears began to grow furious, your breath ruggedly thrashing against your throat and lungs. You weren't sure where exactly your hands were holding, just that they tightened around him, and it felt as though your rage could not hurt the world when he held you like this.
“Hobi…” You said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” He tried not to let it scare him, the way remorse plunged a fist into your heart. There was no reason for you to be apologetic towards him, towards anyone. “___, I’m worried for you.”
“Hobi, I just don’t know what to do. Why? Why is this so hard for me? Why can’t I just fucking get over him?” 
“Because, it is hard.” Hoseok’s hand secured your head onto his shoulder, slowly growing damp from being a receptacle for your crying. “I wish I could take your pain away from you. You don’t deserve this. I mean, you guys were planning to build a life together. I saw it too, saw how much dedication your relationship seemed to have.”
Your legs felt weak, burning where the muscles strained to hold you upright. Through instinct alone, Hoseok slowly kneeled to the ground and kept his arms around you, leading you to sit in the nest of his body. He felt this was all he could give you, his entire body. Skin to skin, exacting hollow and desperate demands that some parts of your ache would displace into him. He hoped it would be enough this time around.
“How could he do this?” You spoke rather softly now, the ebbs and flows of your emotions were an unbridled wind storm that had suddenly decided to let the air stay where it was. “Hobi, everytime I try to get over him, I feel this emptiness. It scares me. I feel like I am nothing without him. How did I let that happen? How did I lose myself?”
“Even if you did, lose yourself, that is, that doesn’t mean you are lost completely. Because there’s so much of you that I love, that I have held onto. And I didn’t fall in love with Taehyung’s partner. I fell in love with you. And to me, no matter what, you are always going to be the person I love.” His hand brushed through your hair, repetitive motions that seemed to wash away your anguish. “You’re still my best friend. I think that should count for something. You are so much more than you could ever know. I haven’t lost you yet, and I plan on keeping it that way.”
For a while, both of you had stopped talking. The only sound repelling a stark silence was his soft breathing. 
“___, remember the first dance competition I attended after I got that bronze medal?” He asked. Your lips parted, but sound had receded somewhere deeper than your throat. It was too difficult to reach for it, so instead, you nodded plaintively. “I told my own parents not to come. I was so afraid of losing again. I didn’t want to give anyone except for myself the disappointment of my failure. Of not being good enough."
It surprised you, how openly he spoke about his fears, especially since those fears were surrounding dance. He was perfect, and still he was afraid. The whole world, it seemed, sought safety in their own ways. Even the most skilled dancers could fear a stage.
"I don’t know how the hell you even found the stadium in the first place." He chuckled, the delicate rumble in his chest was nourishing when it echoed through your ear. "But when I finished my performance, there you were. Exactly two rows from the front. You showed up. I remember exactly how I felt. In that moment, I was good enough for you no matter what. I was good enough. You loved me more than I could ever love winning. That’s the kind of person you are. To this day, before my performances, I close my eyes and imagine your little hands clapping like crazy, your eyes entranced with me all those years ago. You’re the reason I still dance today.”
You looked up at him, and him down at you. He smiled because your eyes never changed. The way you looked at him, it never changed at all. “I know it’s hard now. But you will get through this. I know you will. You need to show up for yourself, the way you showed up for me, again and again.”
You couldn’t deny this, deny the friendship that survived the harsh shift of the seasons, and many things do not make it through the Winter. But you and he always had. As your grief ripped through your body like a dam corroding, water pulsing through as though it was your own heartbeat, when the ugliest emotions emptied, you were left with one thing. You were left with love. 
“You’re right. I know I can still do it. I know because I will never stop loving you, Hobi. There’s a lot more I need to figure out, but I’d say that’s a strong start.” Your arms regained something you hadn’t known it was missing, and whatever it was, it allowed you to hold him back, the way he held you. “Thank you, for helping me believe again. For believing in me.”
“That’s just what we do, ___. Always. Promise me when you do find yourself, find whatever you’re looking for, that you’ll let me stay by your side?” He asked out of courtesy, because he already knew your answer, could feel it as your chest rose and fell against his.
“Always.”
╌──────────═❁═──────────╌
Jimin watched the stars vigilantly. There was a credence stressing at the dead center of his eyes. He thought he was going to miss something. Some sort of astronomical miracle. 
He’d never seen a shooting star. It felt juvenile, how he clung to the rail of his apartment, how something so banal was arresting him away from sleep. The breeze snuck beneath his shirt, but he ignored how his body searched for warmth. He needed this tonight, to glean anything but a cold-shouldered stillness in the night sky, to come face to face with something and watch it come alive.
In some impossible way, this might make sense of it all. What he felt for you, what you meant to him, when it's right to hold on, and when it's time to let go. How could he know when his heart was shrouded in grief, when he sought answers in the sky only to uncover even more silence, a galaxy of questions he couldn’t answer. He felt audacious to think the stars uncertain where they were fixed along the dark canvas above. The falling of one would be submission to clarity.
All he knew was that he wanted to call you and that your voice, gentle and steady, was perhaps the only remedy for a silence so formidable. All he knew was that when he reached for an answer himself, he found his hand, instead, reaching for his phone, to call you.
Jimin hadn’t tried guessing what reasons you had to pick up, just that when you did, and your voice heavy with sleep filled his ears, he was grateful to them. 
“Jimin.” You almost sounded pleased. “You know it's two in the morning, right?” 
“I lost track of time.” He said, half-invested in responding to you. 
“Mm.” A pause traveled between your phones. You, tucked under a drowse, felt your eyelids weaken. You spoke, breaking the undefinable silence just to keep awake. “What made you lose track of time so late at night?” 
“I was just stargazing.” The reverence softened his voice into a whisper.
Of course. You thought. Of course Jimin was stargazing the night before he had an 8:00 a.m. class.
“Can you come over?” His voice remained a whisper, but it blared through the phone like a scream.
“What?” You said, only so he would repeat it again.
“Come over. Please? You said we would see each other soon, but you haven't reached out.” When he said this, your heart ached, punishing you with sharp pulses. 
It wasn't necessarily that he was persuasive. You were already out of bed, staring out of your window, watching the same sky Jimin was. “Okay, I’m coming. Just give me ten minutes.” 
Jimin exhaled. His restitution felt a bit more grounded, like he was moving in the right direction. And as you drew near to his apartment, the sky had lost its might. With you here, the world below felt brighter than any light the sky could offer.
You knocked. It felt too formal; you were compelled to just wait at the door, hoping your presence alone would summon him without having to sound it out. The door was eager, quick to open. Jimin’s hair was lazy, falling tiredly on his forehead. It was new to see him this way, the rawness of him, the way he looked right before he let himself sleep, let his guard rest for the night.
You looked the same way to him. Raw, intimate, vulnerability taking over where your body softened for sleep.
“Thanks for coming.” He reflexively pulled you close. The incident at the party afforded him an inclination to hold you, and you to hold him too. 
“It's nothing.” You let your exhaustion spill out, soak into Jimin through how you leaned against his body as though it were no different than a bed. “I-”
He loosened his arms, not to let you go, but to soften the embrace a bit. It somehow made you feel more held by him.
“I missed you.” You said.
“I missed you too. Watch the stars with me?” He felt your head nod, then pulled away to lead you to the back porch. The outside air did not offer the same comfort as his apartment, but as you sat down with Jimin, he was warm. You didn’t need to take cover inside to keep the cold at an arm's length. Never, when you were with him.
“I’ve never seen a shooting star.” He admitted. You thought it endearing. He would be someone who cared about experiencing the simple wonders in the world. 
“Let’s change that.” You asserted such conviction in this, as though it were not up to chance, but will. “Tonight.”
He smiled, eyes peeling from the sky to catch sight of you. So beautiful, He thought. You felt his stare, a presence against your face that resided with fondness in a way that made you nervous.
“If you keep staring at me you’ll miss it. Eyes up, Jimin.” You commanded, and he obliged more out of respect to you than the heavens above. The stars looked so dull, entirely unimpressive compared to you.
"It's funny." He spoke of a thought that must have ruminated long before he said anything. "It's funny what you notice when you spend enough time somewhere. What stands out to you."
"Yeah? What did you notice in all your days at that cafe?" You asked.
"Lots of rude customers. Tired employees. People living their lives as fast as they can. And..." If you were looking, you'd see the smile that crept on his face. "And you. I always noticed you."
"Really?" You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him. The night winds felt like nudges, quiet urges to move you even closer.
"Yep. You didn't live your life fast, didn't feel like you were trying to escape it. And one day, you just stood at the back of the line, for almost five straight minutes. I thought, 'What are they waiting for?'" He kept the realization private, that he saw himself in you. A soul in waiting.
"And you must have thought the answer was some overly familiar writer and dancer who stares at strangers more often than appropriate?" When you laughed, he laughed with you. It was simple, a momentary feeling of delight. And it still managed to mean the world to both of you.
You were amused more than taken off guard when you heard a digitized camera shutter go off. When you looked over, you saw the aftermath of a secret photo being taken. His hands moving sharply down to his lap and a smile covering up his tracks, like a kid caught doing something they weren't supposed to.
"What was that?" Your expression cut in half, eyebrows furrowed and mouth half-grinning.
"Nothing!" Jimin locked his head towards the view of the sky as though it was true.
"You're so weird." You said and it hadn't sounded like an insult to him.
"You just looked too beautiful." Your heart would not still at this. You couldn't bring yourself to figure out what it meant, that yours was the first memory to be memorialized in his camera roll since his friend died. It was far bigger than you, more than you could ever understand. Your mouth opened for a response that wouldn't come. So, you said nothing.
Five minutes passed, though it felt much longer. Silence stretched out time like a marathon, leaving you desperate for rest, for time to stop altogether. Still, you remained pensive, even went so far as to sparse out your blinking just in case it caused you to miss a crucial glimpse of the night sky.
“So, why exactly do you want to see a shooting star so badly?” You asked, your voice protruding from your mouth as white clouds.
“Dunno. I just want to.” It was an unconvincing, partial truth. It hardly satisfied you, but you let it go for now.
“You know they say some of the stars we see right now have died long ago.” 
“Really? I didn’t know.” Jimin felt daring, placing his hand over yours, bracing for you to either pull away or push closer. You chose the latter and his breath released with a smile. 
“Mhm. Even the stars as they appear above us now are actually what the light looked like long ago, since light takes a long time to travel and stuff. It’s like a little time capsule don't you think? A way to see into the past.” You turned to him and gathered his beauty. His eyes reflected the stars, but the longer you stared, it seemed maybe the entire fabric of the sky, all the beauty scattered along it, had been fractals of light from his eyes. 
“So, one of these stars…” His pain surrendered to tears, nearing collapse as he continued speaking. You wanted to cry too. You would have, if only you let yourself. “Maybe we’re actually seeing it burn when my friend was still alive.”
“Maybe… Definitely.”
You acted as though the stars appearance didn’t take light years to travel to Earth. Much longer than any human walked along these grounds. For him, you wanted it all to be true. That the stars were time capsules, delivering a much less distant past back to us when the world rests, reminding us how love remains in loss through how light remains even in darkness. For him, each and every star would persevere when someone’s life did not have the same chance to. 
“That also means,” His hand fastened around yours. “There are stars up there when your heart wasn’t so broken. All those stars…” Using his other hand, he gestured to the specks of light, “They remember the person you were before that wasn’t full of pain and loss. I hope they remind you that your happiness is enshrined into the universe. That some piece of the universe burns brightly as a reminder that you can love again. That you will love again.”
If it was true, what Jimin said, if you would love again, you knew precisely who it was you wanted to love. 
“Do you think the stars will remember us?” At this question, he turned towards you.
You're going to miss the shooting star. You caught the reprimand in your throat, and instead let yourself be seen. You couldn’t protest. Not when he seemed to see beneath the shell of your being. When he looked at you, his eyes were full, and in turn, you must’ve been the fullness that made it so, your soul flowering petals, becoming real, becoming yours.
“I think the stars would recite prayers just to get the chance to burn for us.” He was a romantic. Everything about him moved in order to love the world. You wanted to do the same thing. 
“If that’s the case…” You kissed his cheek, a brief warmth traded where your lips touched him. This time, it was you who left him with a parting gift. “Please, trust me. I will come back for you. But I need to be there for myself right now.”
I will come back for you.
He never knew it would be so consoling to hear that, couldn’t have guessed that it would make him want to wait for someone other than his late friend. But when you said it, the stars rewrote themselves for you.
“I'll wait for you, ___.” He let go of your hand.
You walked away, but differently from how you had done so with Taehyung all those months ago. You made strength into something much kinder than a weapon against pain. You made it into love. Your footsteps were resolute, even as they took you away from Jimin. The stars that had yet to burn would remember your promise, would someday become a light of hope in someone else’s night. 
You took the long way home tonight.
For so long, you thought happiness would be a product of you belonging to the world, finding a place or person that would accept the shattered, unfinished mess of your soul. But right now, you didn't need Taehyung, Jimin, or even Hoseok to find a warmth that made itself seen through your smile. This moment, it belonged to you, this was something you could call your own. The world settled, the stars echoed their light like a song, the night stilled for a brief moment so that it could be a part of you.
The starlit streets had shed a calming, generous glow, allowing a blanket of light to tuck yourself into. You were alone, though the usual bout of distress or longing hadn't intruded on you. When you peered back up to the soft stars, you loved how its light made the world look blue, like a galaxy full of possibilities.
I am the world, too. Your whisper hadn't reached the ears, hearts of those you missed. But it reached you, and you felt as though that made it just as meaningful.
╌──────────═❁═──────────╌
Three months. It’s been three months since you had seen Jimin. It’s been three months of breathing slow in the midst of terror, shuffling from class to class, spending time with your best friend, painting everything that made you smile and everything that made you cry, locking doors without the need for his reminders, and rediscovering the beauty life had to offer you. Three months, and you felt that there was nothing fragile about you. Not in the way your arms held onto all the things you had to love, including yourself, especially yourself, or in the way you moved against gravity, against the odds. Looking back at your memories with Taehyung no longer felt like you’d unearthed a corpse. It felt like something sweeter, like watching the sun set or clouds pass by overhead. 
On a particularly warm Sunday evening, you wrote a letter to Taehyung, though you had no intention to actually send it out to him. It was something to soothe your soul, to let go of what you once believed to be your future and embrace the unexpected.
Dear Taehyung,
I wish you knew how afraid I was. Then maybe, we could make more sense of what happened to us. I loved you, and a part of me will always love you. I think that’s exactly what scared me. Loving you meant so much to me, maybe more than it should have definitely more than it should have. You told me that I never let you close enough. And you were right. But not because I didn’t want you to be close. I just didn’t know how, didn’t know it was even possible for someone to want that from me. I don’t even think there was enough me, enough humanness, personhood, whatever you would like to call it. There was nothing that you could get close to. I hadn’t learned at that point what it meant to be my own person. That’s what made loving you so natural to me, so necessary. I was shapeless, like water, filling any container that would accept me. Did you feel it too, Taehyung? Did you feel the way my entire being spilled into a mess on the floor when you emptied yourself of me?
Perhaps I should thank you for knowing this was not enough, not what a relationship should feel like. Because in never becoming someone for myself, I could never truly be at peace. I felt like it was all I was good for, loving you, and when you left me, the one thing that proved my worth was gone. I worried maybe this meant I hadn’t deserved to love you in the first place. I realize though, it was never that. 
What I was looking for was always in me. I need to understand myself, to be kind to myself. Nothing can tell me what I deserve except my own actions. I want to move forward with bravery and acceptance. It’s still scary, but I know there’s so much life for me to experience, for me to fall in love with. It never had to be you. I do not need to be a person that lives for others only. I can live for myself, too. There will be a day when I forgive myself for what I couldn’t do for my own heart.
So, thank you, for giving me a chance to live for myself. I understand now that love can look like many things, but letting go is possibly the hardest, most selfless act of love. You have done this for me. I’m still learning things, still growing. But I know that just means I’m heading towards something. Something bigger than what we had. Goodbye, Taehyung.
With love,
___
You didn’t want to be water, formless, waiting to take shape within the dimensions of another person’s soul. You wanted your own soul, something that could house all the allure of being alive. You wanted love to be your choice to make, not some calling that fell into the hands of someone who could never love you in the right ways. And there was a choice you did want to make, someone you knew would never let you erode back into water.
It was 4:30 p.m. If you started running now, you could outrun the odds of being too late. That was on the chance that he would still be there. But knowing him, trusting in the unwavering love of Jimin, you’d take that chance anyday. 
The wind divided where your body surged through it. There was a force stronger than your muscles, more willing than your heart taking you to the cafe. When you arrived, the sun settled into a muted warmth. The metal door handle grew temperate from the grip of your hand. The large window framed this moment, almost still, eager to be introduced to movement. 
And there he was, patient as ever, occupying the same table, stretching into a love that lied so far away. You never felt more sure of yourself that you could bring it closer to him.
I will come back for you.
The second you opened the door, his attention was stolen from his phone. A number of things flashed through his eyes, as though they were spelling out a eulogy. 
“What’s with that face? I told you I’d come back.” You tried your hardest to steady your breathing. 
“___.” His eyebrows hiked up high, incising lines into his forehead. Surprise had never looked so endearing to you. “Wh- What are you doing here?”
“Um, you know…” You bypassed asking permission, filling the empty seat across from him. If only you knew, any table he found himself at always had a seat waiting for you. “Just visiting the area. Decided to get some coffee.”
“Were you now?” He was quick to settle back into stride with you. The two of you pretended not to notice that you had no intention to order, hadn't even bothered to get in line.
“Yeah. You know, I was just thinking.” You spoke through a mild suffocation. Breathing was still precarious, but it had not been due to the running anymore. “I think I have to stop waiting for things to ‘feel’ right.”
“You think so?” It was the same charming lilt in his voice, but you developed a familiarity with it. You missed him.
Had he missed you too?
“I do. I have to start living my life. Even though it’s hard and sometimes right and wrong aren’t very obvious. I do know I’ll be one step closer to finding that ‘right’ I’m looking for if I try. Try everything, but especially love. I want to try at love, whenever I’m given the chance. You helped teach me this. And because of you… I mean…” One more sigh, and you welcomed air into your lungs with ease. “I could be spending this Friday evening doing anything else.”
“But you’re here.”
“I’m here.” When you answered, it wasn’t only for Jimin. “I used to be so scared of the things that make me happy.”
“And now?”
“You make me very happy, Jimin. And I am not scared of you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll stay.” You sighed, took his hand, and intended to never let go unless he asked. “I'll make sure that when you wait in here all day, you won’t be waiting alone."
"You don't need to do that." He said, smiling through tears.
"Why?" Your heart pounded.
"Because you're here now." His other hand covered yours. "I don't have a reason to wait here anymore."
The most skillful thing a writer can do is to choose silence and eventually, action.
The momentum of his racing heart led him to this, to his lips reuniting with yours. This time, it wasn’t starvation that fueled his kiss. It was far more buoyant than before, deeper as you cupped his cheeks. You pressed your lips harder into his as though to test the boundaries of your skin. 
When you’d burned through the momentary passion fostered from two hearts colliding, he turned his face into the caress of your palm, leaving behind a chaste kiss there too. 
“___.” Jimin’s whisper left a compassionate chill in your hand.
“Yes?” It didn’t take long for an urge to reconnect your lips to settle back in when his thumb grazed your jaw. 
“Let's go home.” His eyes were brimming with tears, finding company with your eyes, love flowing freely between them.
It wasn’t important where home was, just that hope emerged when you nodded, allowing him to move on from this memorial overrun with inhibitions. He was ready; he wanted this cafe to be embalmed in something sweeter than aimless longing. Perhaps, grief in its most loving form, the kind that does not keep him static. 
Even as the mouth of worry formed into a grimace, neither you nor Jimin turned away. Your skin was bound through a commitment, one where water is water and you are human, flesh, bones, blood and all.
You passed through the door as if it was an altar. There was a vow embedded in your departure, communicated through your hands lacing into his. To grab hold of the goodness wherever you may find it, to look for it, and most importantly, to love yourselves enough to untether your hearts from the tired grip of the past. Because neither of you belonged in the past anymore.
It was undeniable. The only place you belonged was in this moment, one that brought you and Jimin together. 
“Look up.” He said. “Beautiful, isn't it?”
Your gazes lifted into the sky. The night was tepid, the most beautiful shade of blue, a calmness making the air around the two of you weightless and open. 
And those stars.
“Yes, it is.” Yes, we are. You recited again, to yourself.
“Let's give them something to burn for, my love.” He said, guiding you forward, guiding you home.
╌──────────═❁═──────────╌
a/n: i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! take what you need, leave what must be let go. embrace love in all forms. as our boys say, love yourself. i believe in you. <3
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averlym · 1 year ago
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"now, doesn't that look nice?" [insp]
#*chanting* skask skask skask skask-#vincent aurelius lin#adamandi#hello. let's talk about what's going on here! i've been tossing the idea about here wrt skin translucency ever since that post came out#(it's linked above fyi. but to quote it.) 'attempting to pursue this unachievable white ideal of the young academic; maybe leading to gory#representations of mimicry; replacement; taking on someone else's skin; altering the self'#this is primarily key in vincent and the skask; in the actual show iirc they used a jockey mask or smth? but i was thinking about the#delightful way skin is semi-transparent. and so a literal layer of skin alone would be unlikely to provide the whiteness pursued-#the under layer of the original tone would be there. so smth about the failure and unattainable.#additionally; at this point of the show the skin would have been likely yellowing or greying due to post-mortem development? so even more#Not white. from observations (as a kid;comparing skin tones?) white people have a pinker undertone (this might be. a generalisation but.)#here the lighting is yellowish to further push the difference + give the super harsh lighting that if you suspend disbelief has some hair#appear as blonde to further the ambrose-ness.#also the hair- messier on the non-ambrose side; a reference to the whole monologue about the haircuts they got#we bring to you also another episode of <i like drawing fabric folds> in the jacket symbolism! from bottom right to top left; it tracks#vincent throughout act two: the initial long jacket for standing out (nonchalance?) at ardess is removed; the yellow coat is put on- aided#here by ambrose's ghost which is represented by the hand! (it is very very slightly transparent- you can see the jacket pattern through it)#(if you look close) and then the satchel goes over it; this mimics the clothes in <oh ms reporter>#and then the Actual Ambrose jacket goes above along with the skask; following the outfit from the pyre scene at the end.#the spark/star thing is partially foreshadowing for the upcoming stabby eye trauma thing (@quincy) and partially just so i could highlight#the eye of the mask/ the place where vincent's eye probably is Behind the mask. because i liked the idea of merging faces; intersection.#back to the translucency of skin - you can kind of make out where the rest of his face is from the darker bit? aka it's not the same colour#as the skask. smth smth limited effectiveness...#tldr? face skin. jacket skin. altering appearance over time; unfeasibleness#when i was doing this i suddenly remembered covering my skin in talcum powder as a kid... hm. i'd forgotten about that.#anyways! when i posted my first ever adamandi thing i had the thought of 'this musical makes me want to paint' and surreally enough#that has proved to be so so true. and ngl i am really enjoying it? love it when the motivation to create is there haha#i will add as a disclaimer that i'm literally chinese and if the colours look off.. i did not mean to make a caricature. please be nice#that said because stage lighting tends to shift colours about a Lot i essentially used my own skin as a reference under yellow light?#so hopefully that checks out. <disappears>
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mariocki · 3 months ago
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Honor Blackman guest stars as art expert Syd Lewis in Saber of London: Deep in the Heart of Chelsea (1.3, NBC, 1957)
#fave spotting#honor blackman#cathy gale#saber of london#the vise#the avengers#classic tv#deep in the heart of chelsea#1957#nbc#so im visiting parents for a week or two and taking the opportunity to catch up on my old tv watching as i have access to my beloved#dvd collection. Saber was one of the final network releases I've located (after‚ i might say‚ a long long search for a reasonably priced#copy). so. the story of Saber of London. (deep breath). SoL is really a development of The Vise; for more on the needlessly complex history#of that series you can follow the appropriate tag above. in short The Vise was a crime anthology made specifically for US tv but produced#in the UK using brit actors writers and directors. the recurring character of Mark Saber was popular enough that the show eventually became#The Vise: Mark Saber; it then became Saber of London. some sources still regard this show as essentially being a later series of The Vise#(and it does still use the og theme tune over the end credits) but considering the title change and (crucially) the fact that SoL saw the#series move from ABC to NBC‚ im gonna consider this its own self contained show and number the episodes accordingly (ie. this is series 1 o#Saber of London not series 5 or 7 (depending on your counting) of The Vise). anyway now that's all out of the way.#there's little material difference between this series and the slightly earlier The Vise: Mark Saber episodes besides new titles and a#different introductory spiel from star Donald Gray. our hero is still a plucky private detective undertaking modest cases that the show's#budget will allow. this ep concerns art forgeries and an attempt to trap the criminals responsible‚ which means Saber must call on an art#expert to help authenticate the works. enter Honor! not yet a star‚ Honor did have a decade of acting experience behind her#which is maybe reflected in the fact that she's given an unusually meaty part for a woman in this series: she's neither victim nor love#interest (which are the usual roles) but a witty and intelligent source of assistance to the hero.#unlike The Vise episodes (which could take up to a decade to appear in the uk if they did at all) SoL appears to have had a fairly regular#slot from Granada about two years after the show's US premier. this ep would have been seen by uk audiences in 1959
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stardestroyer81 · 2 years ago
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Mega Man 10 features a triad of playable characters— Mega Man, Proto Man, and Bass. Unlike the former two, Mega Man 10 was Bass's first 8-Bit outing (Not counting his very minor cameo in Mega Man 9), and his faux NES sprite is... off. It's not a bad sprite by any means, but his color palette and posture being much too close to Rock's never quite sat right with me.
But what would Bass look like in my spriting style? Well... here's your answer! ✨
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joycrispy · 1 year ago
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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caramelkoo · 2 months ago
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behind your touch (18+)
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jungkook x reader
genre : married couple, simp husband!Jungkook
summary : two introverts explore the sexier and much more hotter side of their relationship.
warnings : lots of smut and fluff, dual pov, Jungkook is a wild one and he's also a simp, they're adorable, oc is a tadbit nervous, they're newly married and so in love with eo, breeding kink, unprotected sex (please be safe), Oral (giving and receiving), Jungkook is dominant, hair pulling, spanking, he loves her ass, masturbating together. let me know if i missed something.
a/n : i have no idea which freaky monster was sitting on my shoulders when i wrote this. enjoy and if you're ovulating, goodluck. kisses <33
��。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
your pov
"One more, honey. Just give me one more"
Your husband's fingers pump into you as you tweak your nipples between your forefinger and thumb. The pleasure is so intense and burning, you almost see stars. Jungkook is on his stomach between your legs wide apart, his left hand is grabbing your left tit while his three fingers thrust into your wet pussy, thumb rubbing your clit. His face is hovering above yours and he nibbles on your ear.
"I- oh my god, Jungkook I can't" you whimper as you try to control your ragged breathing. He has your body totally at his mercy and you know he's not going to stop until he makes you come for the third time. You don't even know how he pulled one out of you the second time.
"I know you can. Let me see that beautiful pussy clench. Just like that."
His finger go even deeper inside you. He twists his forefinger in such a way, you almost scream before slapping your hand over your mouth but Jungkook takes a hold of your hand, removing it from your mouth.
he warns, "Don't you dare muffle your screams or else I'm gonna spank that perfect ass until it's red and hot"
That does it, your hands rapidly grab the taut silk bedsheet, pulling and undoing it as you arch your back. Sweat beads cover your forehead as you let out a scream before coming harder than ever before.
"FUCK" you pant.
Jungkook takes out his fingers before sucking them off. You look at him with lust in your eyes and sigh. When he's done he holds you close to him as you tuck your face into his neck. Patient as you come down, running his hands over your arms, breasts and ass.
"That's my girl, you did so good" he kisses your forehead.
While you feel like you've ran a marathon, his facial expression holds nothing but pride and affection.
"God, I wish you could see yourself from my eyes right now. A fucking sight"
You chuckle, "You're crazy"
Placing a chaste kiss on your cheek he eyes find you again, "How are you feeling, wife?"
Your cheeks instantly turn a deep shade of pink. It's been twenty days since you both have been married, promised to love each other till the day you die. However, you've still not gotten used to him calling you his wife and it appears he loves your flustered face given that he calls you that every chance he gets.
You ignore his snarky chuckle and reply, "Perfect. How are you feeling, husband?
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Jungkook nuzzles his face in your neck and squeals. His golden retriever personality has always been your favorite.
"I love hearing you call me that. Is this how you feel when i call you wife?"
Indeed you do but no way you're gonna tell him that. His ego has gone big enough for the day. You push him down by his shoulders and lower yourself down to his thick length. He's still wearing his black boxers but earlier somewhere in the process he's gotten rid of his shirt.
Grabbing the waistband of his boxers, you push them down and let his thick length spring free. Your mouth immediately waters seeing his tip red and angry, begging for attention. A drop of cum has formed on top of it.
"Honey, you don't have to do this" he assures pushing up from his elbows to look at you.
"I want to" you say taking him in your mouth as his grunt follows after.
"Fuck yeah, just like that. You're so good at this, baby. So so good" his head thumps back on the pillow. His stomach muscles are clenching hard resulting his abs to look more defined. You run your hands over them. His breathing picks up when you take him deeper and when you cup his balls, his hands grab a handful of your brown locks.
"_____, baby I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that" his hips come up pushing his cock to the back of your throat. He thrusts once, twice, thrice. The room is filled with wet noises and both of your moans. You've never heard of anything more beautiful. You've never seen anyone more beautiful than your husband.
"W-Want me to come in your mouth?" he asks as you nod frantically.
And he does. Another moans slips out of him as he grips your hair a bit tighter while also making sure not to hurt you. Your throat gets filled with his load.
"Swallow it, wife"
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Peace. If someone were to ask how your relationship is with Jungkook, you'd use the word peaceful. Love has all sort of forms and in your life where you are surrounded by so many people who love you, their love however, is slightly different yet equally precious.
For instance, there's passionate love then there's motherly love, bubbly love of a friend and nurturing love of a grandparent. When it comes to your husband, it's peaceful and calm. Your introvert personality had let people in the past assume the worst of you. The enormity of the fact that people think introverts are stand offish or impolite is beyond you.
It wasn't the case with Jungkook, though. Since you're both introverts it's never too quiet or too loud for you. A cup of coffee while you're sitting on his lap watching the sunset, taking a hot bath together where you both are not saying a word and letting silence wash over you, you reading your book while he plays his video game.
These moments might seem boring and mundane to a third party but for both of you, who feel like themselves in silence, they're more than just moments.
But that's not to say that there's no spark. That factor has certainly never been a matter of concern. Just like right now as you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, your body has never looked this stunning. You're wearing a red lingerie which hugs your pear shaped body like a dream.
However, you can't seem to stop the fleeting feeling of nervousness creeping up in your stomach, twisting it into knots. This is new for you. Even in your past relationships you have never explored this much. It's only Jungkook's ability to make you comfortable in your body that has led you to this point. So, you take a deep breath and call out for him.
"Babe!!!"
"Yeah?" before you left him to execute your sexy little surprise, he was talking to his best friend, Jimin. It appears he's done talking.
Adjusting the bra strap, you yell again, "Can you close your eyes for me, please?"
"Why?" he's got to be kidding.
"JUST DO IT!!"
"Alright, alright woman"
You walk towards the door and twist the knob oh so slowly. You open the door slightly ajar and see him sitting on the corner of the bed and then only you walk out.
Standing four steps before him you speak, "Okay you can open them"
"That's what she said"
You huff out a laugh but quickly recover.
"Jeon Jungkook"
"Shit, you full named me? This must be serio-" his words come to a halt when his gaze falls on you.
A nervous smile breaks out of your full lips as you wait for him to continue. When he doesn't say anything you start to wonder if you overdid it but he doesn't give you much time to think further because the next thing you know is he's pushing you against the bedroom wall, lips colliding with yours.
You moan as your lips move together with him sucking your bottom one between his. It's sloppy, it's filled with saliva but you wouldn't have it any other way. Tonight, you want the sloppy and wet.
His mouth is soft and eager. One thing about kissing Jungkook is that it's never the same. It's different every fucking time and it only gets better. His tongue pushes in between your lips before you part them and allow it to slide against your own.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, "Jesus Christ,____. You're trying to kill me, baby"
"Do you like it?" you chuckle.
"Like it? You have no idea how many times I've gotten off to this visual. You look like a fucking goddess and you could ask for anything right now, I'd give it to you"
He shakes his head right to left like he still can't comprehend the sight in front of him. So you decide to help him.
"Fuck me"
"What?"
"I need you to fuck me, Jungkook." you ask him in a stern voice.
From the way he looks at you, it seems like he can't wait another second to get his mouth on you. Taking a step back, he looks at you up and down as if taking his fill. The moment the next words leave his mouth, you shiver.
"Strip"
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Jungkook's pov
"Strip"
The red lingerie pushes his wife's tits up as Jungkook is holds onto this slender thread of restraint, scared that if this gets any hotter, it'll snap. Her skin is so smooth and her lips are swollen from the rather burning kiss they shared earlier. The bulge in his sweatpants must be visible but he's not embarrassed about it.
A man can only handle so much. He looks at ______ with a fire and yearning that runs so deep he feels like it'll consume him whole. He wonders what made tonight worth it? is it the lingerie? is it the fact that they're newly married? is it the honeymoon?
No, It's because of the woman standing before him. It's because of the fact that he is the luckiest man alive on the planet to not only have a woman so sexy as his wife but also someone who is an outstanding daughter, a responsible sister and a human worth living for.
People talk about dying for their loved ones but what about living for them? What about living with them? When he was standing at the alter with ______ standing in front of him just like now he had made a promise to himself that he will live for her everyday. He will make every single day worth it for her so that she will choose him again as her husband in her next life.
The red fabric of cloth falls down with a subtle thump on the ground and his eyes travel all over _____ body. Her slender legs, a dark mole just above her left knee, stretch marks looking like lightening travelling from her navel down to her knees, the curve of her waist he has always loved to hold and kiss, her tits with perky nipples begging for attention and then finally her face.
"Come here and lie down on the bed" she does as he says.
When she gets comfortable enough and looks at him he asks her to spread her legs.
"Show me that pretty pussy, sweetheart" she spreads her legs slowly as if teasing him. He sucks in a deep breath before slipping out of his sweatpants and letting his cock spring free. It slaps against his stomach and he gives it a pump.
"I'm going to fuck you real nice but before that I want to watch. Don't worry though, I'll let you watch too" his voice is as husky as ever.
He walks back to the chair in the corner of the room and sits himself down. His wife looks at him with so much innocence and wonder, for a second he considers changing his mind and snuggle her to sleep but then again, she asked for it so she'll get it.
"Slip one finger inside, baby. Make sure to do it slowly, I want you to feel it well. Soak in the feeling"
"Jungkook, I'm not sure-"
"Hey, I'm right here, my love. I'm in this with you but reconsider it and if you're still not sure, we'll stop" he gently assures her, respecting her boundaries.
______ thinks for a while before taking a deep breath and nodding. Her hand slowly travels down to her stomach and finally to her wet cunt.
"Perfect, now rub your clit slowly and then slide a finger inside" she follows his commands as she lets out a light moan, her head tipping back in pleasure. It's just the beginning.
Jungkook's hands work up and down his length as he seeks his own pleasure but he's not sure how long he can last with the look on his wife's face. It's the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. She's his strength but fuck if she doesn't make him weak in the knees. Both of their moans fill the room with several "fuck" and "oh my god" following right after.
As _____ slides her finger inside and pumps it, he also fastens the pace of his pumping.
"Two more in, baby. Give it everything I know you're close" he manages to speak in a low voice.
"Jungkook, it's too much ahhh" she whines as she arches her back off the bed and he can see her pussy going moist and swollen indicating she's almost there. His hands pump as fast working his veiny cock between his tattooed hands and as soon as his wife lets out another loud moan, his orgasm follows making him throw his head back as he comes down from the high.
When he finally gets a hold of himself, he catches a look at her. She's breathing rapidly and caressing her stomach. Walking up to her he kneels down facing her sex and puts his mouth on it, sucking loudly.
"JUNGKOOK-"
Jungkook's eyes look up to her as he slides his tongue up and then down her pussy cleaning her off as she grabs his hair in response and yanks him up. He obliges and hovers over her before taking the same fingers that were inside her as he pushes them against her lips. She opens those kissable lips and tastes herself.
"Do you understand how divine you taste now?"
_____ hums as her lips release the finger with a loud pop. His eyes trace her face lovingly. _____ has exactly ten moles on her face and his favorite is the one on her upper lip. It's meant to be kissed just like the other ones.
"You're staring"
"I like looking at you. You're the loveliest person ever, do you know that? How did I even get so lucky?"
_____ grins and it's the only thing he ever wants to see on her face.
"Tell me how you want my cock wife and I'll give it to you" His eyes are glue to her face. He could look at her all day and not get bored.
"I- I want it from behind if that's okay" there is a hint of hesitation in her voice and he doesn't like it. But that's okay because he plans on making her as comfortable as possible tonight.
When he turns her on her stomach and guides her ass upwards, her face down on the mattress, she gasps but doesn't object.
"Are you okay with me spanking this ass, honey? Want me to tell you how bad I want you?" she whimpers.
"Yes, please"
"That's a good fucking girl" his doesn't wait a second longer before giving a slap on the globe of her ass, only to slap it once more while also making sure not to hurt her in the process. His palms paint her pale skin.
He works her clit pulling a loud moan out of her. _____ breath is picking up the pace again as sweat beads her back glistening it in the best way possible. He notches the head of his cock at her entrance and pushes inside with a force that takes both of their breaths away.
"Fuck" he cries out and she whines.
He pulls himself outside before thrusting back inside, "Fuck, I love you, _____. You're the best thing that happened to me. Every morning- ugh- every morning I get excited just because of the fact that I get to see this pretty face. You beautiful, strong, gentle of a woman and you're all mine"
His thrusts fasten, he gives three kisses on the dimples of her back as he fucks her from behind just like she asked.
"I love you, baby" he hears her reply back, her voice breathy.
"You like that?"
thrust
"You like how I'm giving it all to you, huh?"
thrust
"You like being at my mercy? Desperate and needy?"
thrust
"Want me to give you a baby,hmm? Make you look all mine?" His final thrust goes even deeper before he turns her on her back. He pulls out and freezes. The woman he's married to is looking like a fucking angel who also has been fucked raw and good. He couldn't be more in love with her.
"Sweetheart, I wanna try something but I need to you to trust me, alright? I'll never hurt you" when he gets a nod from _____ he uses his knees to move up to her until he just above her stomach.
"Push those tits together for me" he commands.
So, she does. ______ doesn't hesitate this time and his chest grows another inch with pride. Her tits squeeze up with the help of her palms and Jungkook carefully slips his cock into the tight channel. Her chest is decorated with the hickeys he's given her this morning.
It takes five thrusts for him to come on her chest. White, hot liquid covers his wife's chest as he quickly pushes himself sideways and lies down beside her with a loud thump.
"Christ, that was so good" he pants.
He takes a moment to catch his breath before running to the bathroom and comes back with a wet towel. He swipes it all over her chest as he cleans her off. She's still looking at him with the same love and passion in her eyes as before. Nothing has changed and nothing will change.
As soon as he's done cleaning up and gets ready to talk his wife's ears off, her soft snores pull at his attention. Giggling to himself as he covers her with the duvet pulling it taut so she can be warm and cozy, he gets comfortable beside her and prepares to go into a deep slumber.
A hand wraps around his stomach making his silly, romantic heart flutter and _____ places her head on his chest.
Placing a chaste kiss on her temple and nose, he whispers into the darkness, "Goodnight, honey. Thank you for being mine"
2K notes · View notes
kasagia · 10 months ago
Text
Losing your memory
Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~
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You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.
A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.
But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)
The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.
Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.
And you hated him with all your heart.
Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.
You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.
You didn't know about that that night.
Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.
Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.
You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.
"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.
"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."
You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.
"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."
"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.
"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.
"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.
"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.
"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.
"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."
He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.
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Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.
It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.
Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?
Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.
Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?
You didn't know.
And you didn't want to know.
The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.
Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.
"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.
"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.
"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."
"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."
"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.
"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.
Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.
After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.
You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.
His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.
Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.
However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.
Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.
You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.
"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.
"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."
"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."
"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.
"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.
You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?
But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.
And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.
Like a driven snow.
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You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.
You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.
You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.
"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"
You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.
On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.
You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.
As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.
Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.
"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."
Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.
"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."
You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).
"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"
You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.
He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.
Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.
"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.
You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.
Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.
You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.
"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.
You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.
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"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."
"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."
"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.
"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."
"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."
"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.
“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.
The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.
Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.
"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."
"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.
You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.
"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.
This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…
And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.
"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."
"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."
"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."
The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.
That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.
You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.
Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.
"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.
"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.
"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.
Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.
"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.
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The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.
So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.
He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.
You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.
If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.
You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.
"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.
She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.
You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.
"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"
"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"
"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."
Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…
"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.
You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.
You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.
A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.
You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.
Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.
You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.
You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.
You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.
"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.
"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"
"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.
"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.
"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"
"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.
"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.
"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.
"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"
"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."
"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.
You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.
"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."
"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.
"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.
His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.
"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."
"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."
"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."
"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."
"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."
"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."
"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.
"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.
"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.
"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."
"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."
You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?
You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.
Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.
And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.
And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.
You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.
He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.
You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.
You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.
"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."
"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."
"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.
"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.
"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."
"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.
You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.
"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.
You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.
And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.
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Part 2
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DPXDC prompt: Spiritual Siblings
Bruce: My assassin kid can't be that normal!
Damian: Well, I’m completely emotionally stable by Amity Park standards. The problem is with you. Obviously.
~~~~~
Damian had long found peace and home in Amity, so he did not worry that the new family and Gotham might not accept him.
Sure, Al Ghul had lived without any contact with his biological father all these years but he could safely say that he had a happy childhood. First years were hard and he was raised more as a weapon than a human being. Even so, after that a ghost who decided to become his brother appeared and everything changed.
Damian still does not know what Ra's owes Phantom but Danny has a right to take him, without prior notification, to live with Fentons, to visit Aunt Alicia at her farm, and to make Vlad’s weekends much less calm and boring. Danny jokes that he just steals him as a hostage when Al Ghul does not pay taxes for using Lazarus Pits. Whatever the reason, he already has a family that loves him.
However, he still wanted to make an effort to fit in this one too. The model of conduct certainly was his older brother. No, not the oldest, of course. To be honest Dan wasn’t the kind of a man that could charm you from the first minute. But Danny, in Damian’s experience, had a calming effect on people. So he tried to act like him.
And, yeah, for lack of experience, he was more fun!Danny at home and super!Danny on patrol but he also really tried not to get any of his own assassin personality in his new-self and was tired of it. He couldn’t get a 100% match. Fine. Still doesn’t look like anyone in this house really likes him, so whatever.
Damian understood why Bruce didn't like his company. Jazz had long ago explained to him the importance of voluntary consent. His mother did a terrible thing. Al Ghul was not a child and therefore he was ready to admit it. However, he also understood that children were not responsible for the actions of their parents.
As a biosocial being, he wanted to be more than just a painful reminder of what had happened to Bruce. Wayne's ignoring of his existence was rude. But Damian wouldn't force this man to spend time with him just because he was legally obligated to take care of his well-being. He wasn't going to prove anything to Batman, and he definitely didn't need his attention. The care of his real family is enough.
But Damian really tried to get along with new potential siblings. He even shared Sam's and Danny’s special jokes with some of adopted kids 'cause he didn’t want them to feel like he put himself above them. He wasn't good at showing emotions but he was as open as the assassin could afford to be to strangers.
But they all obviously expected something from him. And it reminded him of the League in an unpleasant way. It was easier with Fentons. Almost everyone in Amity Park was saying what they thought, and Damian didn’t have to waste time decoding potential conspiracies.
Damian missed movie marathon nights with Sam, Tucker, and Danny. And he hoped Dani had time to bother Vlad in his absence.
It was so weird here. When Danny and Valerie were fighting, they would gather at the dinner table anyway. When Damian wanted to have combat training with Drake here, he was forced to stay in his room. A very strange punishment. And undeserved one too.
Al Ghul felt quite calm and fine sitting at his easel and painting the people he left behind. An unusual subject for his paintings. But, Ancients, he missed Amity.
He missed Jack's bone breaking hugs, Maddie's Ecto-Contaminated food, arguments of Sam and Tucker, cozy art class with Mr. Baxter and even Vlad's done look. He missed Danny telling him about the stars. He also missed sword practice with Dan's boyfriend Fright Knight and he missed Dan's stories about his other youth. He missed literary evenings with Mr. Lancer, Clockwork and Ghost Writer. He even missed the hours-long Jazz lectures. He missed the dance of death and life. He missed being looked at without expecting anything from him. He missed the crowd. In the league, he was never at one with himself and in Amity he was always surrounded by people who were not afraid of his fate as the heir to the said League. This Manor was full of people, but for the first time in his life he felt lonely. Damian has to admit that he felt left behind. Of course, he understood that people needed time to build relationships, but he could have sworn that even he didn't need that much time to connect with Fentons. Maybe this is one of the tricks of the Clockwork? Then this one is not funny at all.
~~~~~Phone call~~~~ Damian: Mom, I want to go home. Maddie: I'm so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. What happened? Damian: Just…Nobody likes me. Why was I sent here? I'm not weak. And my brothers are quite capable of protecting me from Raas. I don't need Batman for this. Maddie: We'll figure it out, champ. Moms love you, remember? I'll talk to Talia, okay? Your brothers and sisters are already on edge and ready to steal you right during the patrol. Damian: It would be nice, but it would put a bat on their tails. So lock them in thermoses if they bother you too much. Maddie: But that won't stop Jazz. Damian: I missed the part where that's my problem. Maddie: Well, it will be your problem if she comes to your doorstep with your childhood photos and moralizing.
~~~~~~~~
It's his birthday. And he was always excited about it. But now, looking at the pile of gifts, he realizes that these people don't know him at all.
And this is the family of the best detective in the world? Maybe yes, but none of them bothered to really find info about him or ask him about his likes. Damian's a stranger here, and that's obvious.
The lunch container, which he will obviously give to the Boxing Lunch when he's in the right time interval, tennis rackets that Youngblood might like, The Graveyard Book…
Valerie had already read it to him and Dani before it was published. Thanks to Clockwork for his little miracles. The book reminded him of home.
Obviously this one is from Jason. And well, Damian doesn't think it was a pun on his life in Amity, more like Hood's inside joke about death but Dami will definitely leave this thing in the room at the Manor and maybe take it with him to the GZ or Amity Park.
~~~~~~~
When they gather at the festive table, Damian realizes that he has to make some kind of speech. He tries to be as brief as possible in his report.
Damian: Todd, your gift is appreciated. And I found a potential use for items that were given by others, Bruce.
Damian never called Batman his father. With Maddie and Talia, calling both moms wasn't weird, especially when Jazz explained to his biological mom that he wasn't trying to replace her. But with Wayne, it was different. Both women took care of him, they deserved this title. Wayne provided for his needs, but his core heart didn't feel like they were close. Surely there's nothing wrong if they're just Bruce and Damian? Obviously, they both don't enjoy each other's company.
Jason: So, do you like books, little demon? Damian: Sometimes reading is quite relaxing, I should point out. I'm not indifferent to Stephen King and Lovecraft. Jason: Personal recommendations? Damian: Cujo is one of my favorites. Jason: Not a common opinion, huh. Damian: It reminds me of my family. Damian tries to smile like Danny does, but Jason's twitching eye clearly indicates that he screwed it up.
~~~~Dick and Jason synchronously drop their forks as an excuse for a conference under the table.~~~~ Dick*whispers*: How's the situation? Jason*whispers back*: If the boy asks for a dog, don't be fooled. He will be happy to dance on our graves.
~~~~Cass knocks over their heads, urging them to return to their seats.~~~~
Damian: So how good you are at fading and sliding,Todd? Jason: Why did you ask? I can't, of course. Damian: Because you're dead. It seemed to me that this was a completely understandable interest. Jason: Wow, what a jerk. Damian: I wonder why your own incompetence makes me a jerk? Even my sister could do this when she wasn't dead for even a month.
Jason, for some reason, looks awkward, although he has never been embarrassed before by the idea that a girl could be stronger than him.
Jason: Your sister? How old was she when... So it's all about age. Damian rolls his eyes.
Damian: We're the same age. It seems like it was four or five years ago. To be honest, I don't remember. I wasn't around then. I'll ask Danielle the next time I go to the cemetery to visit her. Dick: I'm so sorry, Dami. Where is she buried? We can take you. Damian: There's no need. She has no grave, as there was nothing to bury. Bruce sighs loudly and covers his eyes with his hands. Damian: It's just easier to contact the afterlife in places like this, you now? Duke: We are very sorry, dude. Damian: Don't be. People come and go, and then come back if they haven't finished annoying you. There's no point in regretting the past. Her creation was not the most ethical thing but everything is going as it should. At least that's what Grandpa says. Considering that the old man is older than time, I prefer to believe him. No one plays with fate without his permission unless they want to get hit by the clock. Tim now looks like he's going to throw up and Damian hurries to move his plate closer to him. Jason: Yes, Bruce, this is definitely your son. Damian: Did I say something wrong? Dick smiles faintly at him but still doesn't find anything to say. Damian shrugs and goes back to eating asparagus. People outside of Amity are so weird.
Signal looks at Damian suspiciously as he carefully rearranges the plate of soy sausages away from himself. Did he take him for an idiot? Everyone knows that even vegetarian sausage bite and fight no worse than those with meat when they come back to life. It's not Damian's fault that he doesn't have an ectoblast with him and wants to have extra distance from the opponent.
~~~At the same time, in the walls of Wayne Manor~~~ Dani: The operation codenamed "Get Haunted Idiot" is declared open. Danny and Dan *salute*.
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~~~Several Days Later~~~
Damian: So, this is Dan. Danny says we keep him as a GIW repeller. Dick: And Danny and Dan are.. Jazz: His brothers. I'm Jazz by the way. Elle and I are his sisters. Damian: I feat the criteria to participate in their name cult, so they took me. Dan, Danny, Dani and Dami. Dan *ruffles Damian's hair* : I prefer to call this biting threat Damn, to be honest. Dami: Shut up, DaNtE, they almost wrote Dark in your passport, you idiot. I can't believe I thought I missed you. Danny: Wow. Rude. Your grandpa would be disappointed. Great job, lil one.
~~~Several years later~~~
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hysteria-things · 4 months ago
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MY EYES ONLY
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!chris x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a look into chris’s my eyes only…
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!), swearing, choking, stomach bulge, oral (female & male receiving), praising, degradation, daddy kink, jealousy, squirting, spanking, possessiveness, overstimulation, dumbification, cream pie, semi-public, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 888
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for all the chris stuff lately i’m just so down bad for him but matt will make an appearance (hopefully) soon!
also… the last one will be turned into a fic😉
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mattress digging deeper into your back every second, the hand around your throat only tightens. your small palm doesn’t even fit fully around his wrist. moans and pleas of ‘don’t stop!’ aren’t the only sounds echoing off the walls. the headboard bangs rapidly against the wall, a chuckle coming from chris every so often at your fucked-out state.
you two were extra horny this day, it seems, and of course, you had to take advantage of it. the video is taken from your drooling mouth down to the bulge in your stomach, chris quite literally balls deep inside of you. tits bouncing at the rapid pace he’s going, your nails dig deeper into his flesh. “yes! yes! yes!” you scream like a mantra, cum then coating his dick.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
to him, his finger slipped and “accidentally” pressed the post button. it starts casually with the desktop displaying fortnite, then he flips the camera to his face. a smug look is plastered on it before the camera flips again.
this time, it’s of you — under the desk with your boyfriend’s cock stuffed in your mouth. his other hand is wrapped around your locks in a makeshift ponytail, controlling the way you bob your head at a decent rhythm. all you have to do is sit there and take it.
looking at the camera with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you smile, spit dribbling from the sides of your lips. he pushes your head down further to where the tip of your nose touches his pelvis, a gulp and gag going through his headphones before his face comes into view one last time. chris smiles smugly, with a caption that reads: we’re live! come hang out :)
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
legs draped over his shoulders, your fingers massage lightly at the brunette between your plush thighs. the phone is propped up on the nightstand to make sure your entire body is in view. his tongue laps agonizingly slow on your puffy cunt, but it feels so good.
you’ve been a good girl all week; no attitude, no talking back, good manners, etc. you were in for a reward. this is your reward. he wants to eat you out like no other. until you see stars and that’s it.
soft moans fill the air, eyes fluttering closed and your mind blank. just how chris likes it.
growing closer to your high, you get impatient before rutting your hips forward, your moans growing louder. he hums disapprovingly, leaving your dripping hole empty. “no need to get naughty now, baby. i thought you were a good girl for me?”
“i am.” you whimper. “i’m sorry, daddy.”
thrusting his hips subconsciously into the mattress because of the nickname, he delves back in to suck on your clit. that alone washes the first of many orgasms through you. you end up passing out at the end.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
an argument sparked this beauty, which is also chris’s personal favorite. for context, you guys argued over something stupid before going to a party. because you’re so petty, you decided to purposely talk with a random guy at the function to get chris’s blood boiling. giving him those ‘fuck me’ eyes from across the room.
before you knew it, you were holding on for dear life on a pillow in a random bedroom he dragged you into. the velvet dress you’re wearing is bunched above your ass, and your panties are ripped in half and thrown to the floor. crying out apologies into the blanket is no use, skin stinging with his handprint on it. the video is hard to make out because of how fast the phone is shaking in his hand.
“fucking brat.” he spanks you again, a sob leaving your throat. “you think he can fuck you stupid like this? huh?”
his hand makes contact at least three more times during that sentence, and your body shakes uncontrollably. he already ripped two orgasms out of you. “that’s right. take it just like that — whose pussy is this?”
“yours.” you exhale, squirting without warning from the overwhelming pleasure and penetration.
gripping the top of your hair, he lifts your head. “scream it, slut. they can’t hear you.”
“yours, chris! it’s all yours!” you gasp, knuckles white from your grasp on the sheets.
looking down at the way his cock brutally thrusts in and out of your tight pussy, his jaw slacks at the sight. you clench around him as his tip repeatedly hits your cervix, eyes rolling when you cum harder than ever before.
he arches your back further to get as deep as he can with a grunt. his hips stop, long ropes of cum spilling the farthest it goes into your womb. pulling out, he takes two fingers to help his seed stay inside you, the rest dripping down your legs the rest of the night.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ❦ ⋆⁺₊⋆
it’s dark. the photo is barely visible but visible at the same time if you look at it long enough. the table in front of you has a reflection of the moon, your tits that are painted white take up half of the screen. the other half is of your face, a smile peeking through your lip bite. a tatted arm snakes around your neck, the selfie angled up high.
be careful leaving your things behind, chris. the text says.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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nymphomatique · 1 year ago
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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
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suppermariobroth · 7 months ago
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In 2020, internal Nintendo files have surfaced that included a model of Yoshi to be used with the Super Nintendo's Super FX chip, known for its usage to create 3D graphics in Star Fox.
Above is the Yoshi model inserted into Star Fox to demonstrate how it would have appeared on original hardware.
Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: twitter.com user "vl_tone"
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libraincarnate · 6 months ago
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astrology notes: 16 ☁️
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quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences based on astrology. with that being said, i'm still learning along the way & i may come back to edit this post to make corrections. above all this is just for fun. lastly, keep in mind that i’m not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just some possibilities that may or may not apply to you. enjoy!
🐚 neptune–venus aspects: you probably get compliments on your appearance a lot. you may have been told that you look a model or a celebrity. there's some sort of star quality to you.
if your neptune is square/opposite your venus, you might struggle to see the same beauty that others see in you. it’s not that you think you’re ugly but you might not think you’re as attractive to the extent that others do, so it makes you wonder what other people are seeing. you might think they’re lying or exaggerating. compliments could also be hard for you to accept. the attention you get can make you a little uncomfortable.
🐚 i used to think that virgo venuses were too nonchalant when it comes to love but this placement will give you that real princess or prince treatment that goes beyond money and materialistic items - that kind of princess/prince treatment may apply more to taurus and sag, but with virgo they give the kind of treatment that considers their partner’s entire well-being and not just their monetary needs and desires. they really care about their partners and want to put their life at ease, they truly care if you ate and aren’t just asking that just to ask. if you haven’t eaten they won’t just say, “oh, damn” or “oh no, eat something :/” but they’re the type to create time to make you something or buy you something to eat and even bring it to you. if they can make your life less stressful in any way, they’ll try to do that. if you’re sick, they’ll take on some of your responsibilities like tidying up your house for you since you aren’t able to do so. there can be times where they won’t even let you lift a finger. the types to say, “i’ll take care of that for you” even if you can do it yourself.
they’re reliable so if they say they’ll do something, you can expect them to do it. but this placement may often find themselves in a position where they’re always being the care taker so they want someone who takes care of them too. these individuals are often anxious and may be quite paranoid when it comes to romantic relationships so they desire someone who will put their mind and life at ease. they can be picky and difficult to impress because of their high standards and because they’re quick to get the ick, but once they love you they’ll really go above and beyond.
🐚 sun opposite rising: your looks may not match your personality and you might even think so yourself. for example, you might look innocent or younger than you are, but really, you’re quite mature and there’s a dark, wild, or unexpected side of you. your looks are deceiving.
🐚 capricorn rising/in the 1st house: you are someone who had ambition and big plans from a young age. money could be a big part of your identity. the ones making “money moves” fr. you could have a lot of work experience. you’ve been working/touching money since your pre-teen or teenage years. 
if your cap rising aspects your mercury then subjects related to money/finance could be something that is always on your mind and it frequently comes up in your conversations as well.
or if it aspects your lilith, then you may be the type to get money by any means necessary, meaning you might be willing to do illegal/immoral things to obtain it. but in your mind, you probably think you have a good reason to do it. something made it worth the risk because capricorns are too rational, prudent, and judicious to just do anything without good reason.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 lilith in pisces: might deal w/ sleep related issues such as insomnia, sleep apnea, sleepwalking, etc. 
🐚 sun conjunct mercury (natal): your father may be someone you hold in high regard and therefore someone you speak highly of most of the time. it’s possible that you tend to reflect on the memories you share with him, your similarities/differences, and the influence he has had in your life.
🐚 jupiter in the 7th house: you bring abundance into the relationships you have. this can be a friendship, business partnership, romantic relationship, etc. your loved ones are lucky to have you in their life. you’re generous and you’re the type to spoil & splurge on those closest to you. you bring encouragement and goodness into the lives of others, even if you haven’t known them for long. you’re a blessing. you could have qualities that make you the perfect wife/husband & you could also be blessed with your perfect spouse in return. unless you’re a jerk, you may be someone that people regret losing, especially your ex.
🐚 aquarius: reminds me of The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) in a way, the ones to step up and help a stranger. they have this innate desire to help people, to help the world, even if it’s done in a small way or even if nobody else sees it.
isn’t it ironic how the sign that’s about humanity and togetherness is the one that feels like an outcast or has been ostracized from some group in some way? whether it be by their family (aquarius in the 4th house), friends (11th house), classmates (3rd house), or co-workers (6th house).
as an air sign, they can talk for hours. but out of the 3 air signs, aquarius is the most socially selective. this can be one of the reasons why they’re often described as cold and distant.
they may not be all sunshine & rainbows but they’re actually kind-hearted individuals. it’s just that they may not always express it in the most warm, affectionate, lovey-dovey way. i wouldn’t describe them as the most emotional individuals but they are still empathetic and they dislike inhumane behavior.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 sag experiences life to fullest by going everywhere, seeing everything, learning about it all in the process and then reflecting on what they’ve seen & learned.
taurus experiences life to the fullest by really being present in their physical body. they’ll take in the different sounds of a song and dance to the beat, they'll distinguish the different notes or aromas of a particular smell and then buy similar scents to fill their home with it or to wear as perfume/cologne. when eating, they'll really taste food and explore the different flavors/ingredients, then maybe they’ll try to cook it for themselves. they’re in tune with their senses and therefore the world around them. it’s such a beautiful way to experience life, but this can also mean that they are quite sensitive to their environments. with that being said they may feel a strong connection to nature/the earth.
🐚 cancer in the 10th house: may be perceived as compassionate & loyal, shy, or a sweetheart by the general public. could be sensitive about their reputation and any criticism they receive. they spend time nurturing their career, and their career may even relate to nurturing children, caretaking, or healing. they rely on their intuition or heart to carve out their path and navigate their career. they’re good listeners and as a cardinal sign they also possess that leadership quality. the types to provide their close friends and family with opportunities to help them reach their own success. a desire to take care of their family and their needs once they make it. people within the same industry as them may see them as a motherly mentor.
🐚 scorpio in the 2nd house: they can have deep and/or raspy voices. it’s music to my ears, but especially if it’s a woman with this placement. that’s because women typically have higher pitched voices, and so naturally, these women stand out when they speak. if they can sing well, they can probably reach deeper notes than most women typically can. but in the same breath, it may be hard for them to reach high notes. this applies to both the natal chart & the mercury persona chart.
🐚 saturn rules the teeth and so people with saturn in retrograde in the 1st house, or saturn opposite/square pluto, lilith, mars or the ascendant may have a chipped tooth due to a certain event such as getting hit in the mouth or biting on something hard. or they may have a gap between their front teeth, the type you inherit genetically or from your parents. this doesn’t mean they have ugly teeth or an ugly smile. however, whether they feel like they have an ugly smile or not, they may have a tendency to smile without showing their teeth or they cover their mouth when smiling/laughing in attempt to hide their teeth. either way, there’s a sense of self-consciousness here.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 4th house synastry: potential for a strong/solid foundation, they're your comfort place, having a strong desire to live together, moving in together can make the relationship feel more satisfying, fulfilling, or complete. you miss them when they’re not home/around, hate having to say goodbye, long distance could make you both feel miserable or like something is missing. possible separation anxiety. emotional vulnerability, healing, and attachment. taking care of each other. wanting to start a family. this house also creates an environment for a deep connection just like the other houses ruled by water signs.
🐚 if i could communicate with animals i would tell pets to choose owners who have scorpio in the 6th house. these people will loveee their pets to death. their pets would probably be obsessed with them (it would be mutual though) because of the amount of love and attention they would receive from their owners. there’s definitely a strong emotional attachment. but in general, having a water sign in the 6th house indicates a strong emotional connection or bond with pets/animals.
air signs in the 6th house would talk to their pets a lot and they’d be besties lol, they obviously don't speak the same language but they'd understand each other nonetheless. possible animal whisperers here.
earth signs in the 6th house would give their pets the best of the best but i also think this dynamic would bring a mutually grounding effect that could be therapeutic, bringing a sense of calm and peace to the pet and the owner’s life.
fire signs in the 6th house would spoil their pets and they’d have a lot fun doing things together like taking them outdoors and going on adventures. 
🐚 1st house ruler in the 2nd house: the themes of the 1st house includes one’s appearance and the themes of the 2nd house includes one’s physical body and beauty, being that is ruled by venus. while this still applies to libra because it is also ruled by venus and it has the reputation of being beautiful and having physical symmetry, this doesn’t apply to the 7th house, which libra rules, because that house is more related to romance and relationships.
so, since the physical body is part of one’s appearance, if your 1st house is ruled by the 2nd house, not only can this show another layer of your appearance but it can also mean you have a very attractive appearance and body. bonus points if taurus is in the 2nd house since that is the house it rules and it is also ruled by venus.
with that being said, even if you don’t have a libra rising or libra in the 1st house, if it’s in your 2nd house and it rules your first house you may have libra physical traits like freckles or dimples. if aries or leo is in your 2nd house then you may have a lot of hair, red hair (naturally or dyed), or a pronounced face/head. 
the planets in your 2nd house may also have an impact, so if you have mercury there your body may be quite slim. having venus in the 2nd house is also a bonus because again, beauty. jupiter too since it represents blessings so you may be blessed with great looks and this may indicate a thicker or curvier body type as well. i’d also add asteroid aphrodite (1388) as well, being that it represents attraction, & beauty, but planets will have a greater influence. 
lastly, people may like the way you dress and think you have a good sense of style.
^ even if the house that rules your 1st house doesn’t relate to one’s appearance or body, it can still have an influence on your presence. for example, if your 8th house rules your 1st house you probably have sex appeal without even trying to be sexy, people may think you’re secretive, and you might look and feel best when you’re wearing dark colored clothing. but remember, signs matter and can reinforce this or bring out the opposite.
🐚 asteroid juno (3) at a gemini degree (3°, 15°, 27°): can indicate a marriage filled with laughter, lots of conversation, and possibly good communication between you & your spouse, or these are things you desire or must have in a committed romantic partnership.
࿐ ࿔*:・゚𓇼 ˖°
🐚 pluto represents things that are hidden. those with pluto in the 1st house may hide or gatekeep their personality or their true self, so many people don’t know the real them. they’re naturally mysterious with deep layers. 
in the 6th house they may hide any health issues they have or how hard their life may be on a daily basis, the types to feel like they’re on the verge of death but no one would know. 
in the 3rd house they may not be quick to reveal their thoughts or what’s on their mind, they try to think before they speak. reminds me of the person who chooses to sit in the back of the class and doesn’t participate much, but they have profound ideas and also a dark mind. their siblings may also feel like they don’t know them very well even if they grew up together and were raised in the same home. furthermore, your sibling’s friends may be surprised to learn that they have a sister/brother (the person with pluto in the 3rd house), because they’ve never seen or heard of them.
🐚 lilith represents the things we reject. in the 1st house, lilith may reject parts of themselves because they find those parts difficult to accept, they might create a new version of themselves but it’s not really authentic since they’re rejecting their true self. they may reject their personal boundaries and can potentially be a push over or they care too much about what others think. this may result in a lack of self-esteem and confidence. they could reject their appearance and do things to constantly change how they look whether that be dyeing their hair, dressing up in ways that are drastically different, or possibly getting cosmetic surgery.
in the 10th house, lilith may reject commands from their superiors, their boss/supervisor may tell them to do something a certain way but they do it their own way, may have a tendency of disobeying their father or they were rejected by their father. they may reject leadership roles and prefer to work alone. they don’t take the “traditional” path to success and may choose a career that their father is against. they could also reject fame or attention from the general public even though that’s something they naturally attract. 
in the 12th house they may reject their dreams, meaning that they think nothing of them, they’re “just dreams” and have no deeper meaning. they might reject the darker parts of themselves and prefer to focus on the parts that aren’t so dark and heavy. because of this there could be painful experiences that they haven’t healed from because they refuse to pay any attention to them. if they are spiritual, then they may have surface level knowledge and aren’t interested in delving into deeper waters. or they could disregard or hate the reality of life on this planet and so they have a tendency of fantasizing about death, the end of the world, or a different/better world. also, they may not be the most generous or charitable people.
🐚 empty houses: some people might think that the empty houses in their chart are insignificant but they still have relevance in your life because a there’s still a sign that falls into that house and that empty house also has a house ruler. for example, if you have an empty 3rd house with leo or sag there, you may still be one of the popular kids in school even if you have no planets in that house.
and let’s say your 3rd house is ruled by the 7th house (meaning your sun or jupiter is in the 7th house), your popularity may stem from your relationships. you may be known because you’ve dated the popular boy/girl at school or you both are popular making you the popular couple at school. perhaps you’ve had several relationships throughout your school years and maybe you’re that person who is always in a relationship which could create some gossip whether it be for good or bad. or maybe you have a lot of people pursuing you and wanting to date you, perhaps you have multiple people wanting to take you to prom or you might be a sophomore and yet you end up going to prom with a senior.
so, empty houses will still play a role in your life, but it will most likely be less active or less prominent compared to the houses that do have planets.
🐚 the 5th house: this is definitely one of my favorite houses. people with multiple placements in the 5th house typically have so much personality. they’re so fun, a joy to be around, truly a burst of sunshine with vibrant energy and they’re also really talented. definitely the life of the party, bringing everyone together with excitement and entertainment. the type to start dancing with or talking to a stranger or that person standing in the corner, making them feel both welcomed and included. they also have this youthful quality to them, which may be one of the reasons why children love them or get along with them well.
if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.
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dead-end-draws · 8 months ago
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Tribe Banner concept art:
Folks seemed to enjoy my WOF WIPS, so here’s more concept art for y’all! My favorite thing about WOF is the potential for world building. I thought it’d be cool to see a tribe emblem represented on a banner/flag of sorts:
Read below for some of the thought process / headcannons behind the design choices: 👇
Skywing Banner:
Skywings pride themselves on 3 things; treasure, fire, & their enormous, soaring wingspan which steals the sky.
As such, portrayed on the banner, the fabric (often made with dyed cow or goat leathers) resembles draped dragon wings. Two Skywings embrace a goblet, which is spewing golden fire.
The banner is often held aloft with iron or gold poles, signifying to other tribes their wealth and pride.
Mudwing banner:
These banners are fashioned with leather hides from cow or crocodile skin, held aloft with bamboo, and painted with a Talon-print & Reed crest.
The talonprint symbolizes community and the strength of Mudwing sibling bonds. The reed border unifies all Mudwings regardless of their relationship to home; the swamp. Bigwings are often seen carrying these into battle, signifing their status and making it easier for a sib to locate them in the flurry of a fight.
Sandwing Banner:
Sandwing flags are made with camel skins and dyed cactus leather.
A crest shows a Sandwing coiled around a beaming sun, a reminder that despite the revered 3 moons, Sandwings are born to thrive in sunlight.
The fabric is cut in a way to mimic the swooping dunes of Sandwing territory. And the poles of the flags are equally intricate, with scorpion tails and golden ropes which frame the banner.
These flags make prominent appearances in parades, festivals, and markets, and even miniature version are often displayed in homes or as tapestries/carpets.
Seawing banner:
These banners are often seen displayed in royal quarters or councils, or above land to mark territory.
A nautilus shell crest on front echoes the swirl-pattern associated with royal Seawings: The banner’s borders resemble waves and a dragon swimming beneath their surface.
These are crafted with rich materials, strung with seashells, pearls, silver dollars, and deep oceanic color fabric. There is severe penalty for Seawings found plucking treasure from the banners, as they are a direct symbol of royalty.
Nightwing Banner:
These banners emphasize the Nightwings’ relationship to the moon, their source of power and praise. The material, a contrast of white stitching against purple velvet showcases moonlight and night, black scales against stars, magic and mystery.
They are seen decorated with 3 moons at the top and a centered dragon reaching up into the night sky.
These banners were often used during the war as secret code by spies to deliver to other tribes. Prophecy scrolls often came attached, delivering cryptic messages or secrets in the night. These banners all helped add to the secrecy of the Dragonet Prophecy, and kept tribes on their toes around Nightwings.
Rainwing banner:
Rainwing banners are not used for battle purposes like other tribes, most are mere decoration, location indicators, and have no unified design.
However, It is said back when Rainwings left the rainforest to trade pre-war, this particular banner design was often raised above Rainwing merchant tables, and showcases the coiled tail of a Rainwing with leaves, vines, and other sights from the rainforest adorning a bamboo pole. Bright color combinations accentuated the flag to entice curious customers.
Now, only one tattered version of the original Rainwing banner remains, displayed proudly in Queen Glory’s quarters, a reminder that building the Rainwings’ community is their most important goal.
Icewing Banner:
These banners reflect the same standards Icewings hold themselves to.
Like a visual of the rankings themselves, each banner is cut perfectly from an Icewing’s trained, serrated claws to resemble icicles, and crafted with fine blue stitching.
Flags are often held aloft with perfectly polished narwhal horn or bone, and can be inlaid with sapphires or diamond.
Icewing soldiers are often gifted these during ceremonies, and perform training exercises with the flags to test their stance/attentiveness. The crest showcases the swift sharpness of ice through a flying dragon, and a snowflake toward the bottom reminding Icewings that even minuscule snowflakes, small things, should be perfect in form.
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cmaidaartworkblog · 3 days ago
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This video showcases my Blender model of the planet that the Scud aliens call home, the fourth and final world I've mapped out for @jayrockin's "Runaway to the Stars" project. A *lot* of maps were created in service of this final render, and also in service of presenting the special qualities of this planet. I intend to show you as many of these as I can under the cut, and also in subsequent posts focusing on some of the more interstitial, ancillary maps and figures that played a part in producing the primary maps you'll see in this main post.
Before I show the first maps I made for this project, what you see below are the satellite-style maps for the Equinoxes and Solstices, in order of (Northern) Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter, the latter serving as the texture for the Blender object you saw in the video.
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With that matter covered, our next focus is this project's foundation: Geology. While I didn't spin as elaborate a tectonic history for this planet as I did for the Ayrum commission, I did work out as much detail as I could for the more recent geological activity, to set the stage for the elevation data - including a narrower focus on the coastal shallows that host the Scud populations.
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Once I could move on to climate, my first step was finding this planet's relative Insolation, which I managed thanks to @reversedumbrella's code and coaching. With an obliquity of only 16 degrees, this planet's yearly maximum Insolation levels stick close to the equator, compared to pole-to-pole oscillation we see on Earth
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Having a rough sense of where heat would concentrate seasonally and how the landmasses would deflect water in light of the planet's retrograde spin, I was able to set down the bi-annual ocean currents (Northern Summer above and Northern Winter below), then the monthly water temperatures pushed around by said currents, and finally -after factoring in many other considerations- the monthly land temperatures as well (combined in the second gif)
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Next came the seasonal air pressure maps and subsequent wind patterns (my first time creating those from scratch), which later factored into the precipitation maps. The incredible temperatures at the largest continent's interior make a desert of most of it, and the other interiors are fairly dry too, but all that heat on the equatorial ocean generates a *lot* of evaporation which ends up coming down elsewhere.
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With temperatures and precipitation mapped out for each month, I was able to find how the accumulation and melt of ice and snow played out, too. Given such a hot equator it's surprising to see freezing temperatures hold out in some places, but low obliquity and high elevation shield what areas they can, it seems.
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All this monthly data was then painstakingly combined and compared and plugged into equations to produce maps of discrete climate zones, using both the Köppen (left) and Trewartha (right) classification systems. The higher latitudes see some overlap with Earth's conditions, but the Tropics...
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I never really finished the map I wanted to make with my own loosely customized classification system, but I *did* get as far as this breakdown of the areas that sometimes surpass 56.7 degrees Celsius, Earth's record for highest surface temperature ever directly measured. And as you can see, that earthly record is broken by a *significant* fraction of this planet's surface, and far exceeded by the equatorial continent's deep interior
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The final phase of this project dealt with creating satellite maps of this planet's surface (which you saw at the top of this post), which started with a map of dry and submerged substrate, then a density map of the vegetation that sits atop it, then the colors of that vegetation under annual average conditions (demonstrating how they would appear in-person, rather than the area's appearance from orbit), and finally plant colors under seasonal conditions (same conceit as previous). In concert with the seasonal ice and snow maps, it was the four maps in the last sequence which were overlaid on the Substrate map, using the plant density map as raster masks, to produce the final Satellite-Style maps.
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This planet's sophonts being a marine species, it was then worth focusing on the conditions underwater, which included monthly seafloor temperatures (first gif), annual discharge of sediment from rivers (magenta in the 2nd gif), and seasonal upwelling of nutrients from deeper water (blue in the 2nd gif).
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The creation of all my maps seen in this post was possible thanks to Photopea, which has been my go-to for several years now. The resolution kinda got crunched when I uploaded these here, so when I share them on Reddit later I'll add those links under this. These have also already been posted on Twitter, which you can see here if you like. Thanks for scrolling all the way down here!
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tinyowlthoughts · 8 months ago
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The EC-Theobromine: Chocolate
"Ugh, I would kill for some chocolate right now."
Gorvan fumbled the holopad he'd been typing on, all four hands brushing against the screen as he tried to keep it from hitting the ship floor. He failed and it bounced off the tiles - thankfully neither breaking, nor denting the flooring. Grimacing, he swept it up with his tail and checked over the casing, before the alarming words registered in his head. A glance at the couch showed the human - Max - hadn't moved - still twisted up in their weird, pretzely way, chin in their weird five-fingered hand as they peered at the passing stars with a far-away look in their eyes.
"You, uh, want...chocolate?" He asked, certain he'd misheard.
"Oh my god, yes." Max heaved a sigh, shoulders rising to their weird, inefficient ears before dropping back down. "Jesus, I'd even eat a Hershey's Bar right now."
Gorvan gripped his tablet with two of his hands, hard enough to crack the casing. "Oh, um - what is a 'Hershey'?"
Max didn't look away from the window, still lost gazing into the galaxy. "It's a type of chocolate bar from Earth. Maybe a Mars Bar or a Milky Way would be better..."
Gorvan huffed through his nostrils, tail lashing anxiously behind him. "Oh. Um. I - er, I forgot I have a meeting with Captain! I have to go." Without waiting for an answer he turned and fled the recreation room, hooved feet clattering against the floor, desperate to report what he had heard. He missed the bemused look Max gave him before returning to his star gazing.
🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫
"Max."
The human paused upon entering the meeting room, seeing the rest of the C7H8N4O2 Star Explorer gathered around the table. All eight were tense in their seats, and the moth-like Elaana looked like she'd been crying. (Well, the species equivalent, which appeared as a dusting of pollen along her sharp cheekbones.)
Taurvin, the captain, was sitting in the largest seat at the head of the table, his considerable bulk looming over the rest of them. Oddly, the first-mate seat to his left was empty. Gorvan was instead sitting in Max's own.
"Uh, hey all. We playing musical chairs?" Max glanced between the empty chair and Gorvan, but when nobody asked for an explanation to their odd human reference (a common occurrence), they figured it wasn't the time for jokes.
"Have a seat, Max." Taurvin motioned to the first mate seat and, with a bit of hesitation, Max moved to take it. Luckily Gorvan, despite being bulky himself, wasn't too much larger than a standard human and the chair was comfortable enough. "We have something important to address."
Oh god above, what had they done this time? Max tried to think back to all the interactions he'd had onboard the last few weeks, but couldn't come up with anything too egregious. Sure, there was the whole joke with 'human snot is acidic' thing but that had been more of a gross-out joke for Elaana, the ships medic, who hadn't seemed to upset when he accidentally sneezed on her a few days later and dropped the act. Epitak, the ships engineer, had been pretty pissed when ze found out Max had taken apart the air filtration unit in their quarters to try and understand how it worked, but ze had also walked him through repairing it, so they thought it was all forgiven.
Oh jeeze, had they found the plans to get a kitten onboard under the 'emotional assistance animal' loophole?
"Max." Taurvin's normally jolly voice was grave, and all the crews eyes were on them as he spoke. "It has come to my attention that you have been expressing some...troubling thoughts."
Okay, definitely the kitten thing then. "Look, I can explain," they started, but Taurvin held up a large, three-fingered hand and stopped them.
"I do not want you to feel pressured to speak to us if you do not wish to. As a member of the Intergalactic Exploration Society, you have access to mental health resources at no cost, any time, anywhere. I will be more than happy to assist you in setting up a link to a therapist through HR and, if required, will grant you time off the ship if you need it. You are the best navigator I have ever seen, and I do not want to lose you."
"Well, thanks, but uh, what do you mean?" Max glanced around the table and noticed that their normally upbeat crew were all showing signs of distress (Elaana was brushing away newly fallen pollen from her compound eyes).
"Max, you requested chocolate." Gorvan reminded them. "This morning, you said you would even eat a substance known as a Hershey Bar from your home planet." The human had never heard the first mate sound so distressed. When Max just blinked, Epitak took over, beak clacking anxiously as ze spoke.
"We understand that many planets have government programs in place for self euthanasia," ze explained, technical as always in his word choice, "but we aboard this ship would much rather assist you in healing rather than lose you, despite what you may feel is best for you. Suicide by theobromine is not the way forward."
"...what."
"It's okay, love!" The pollen was flowing freely from Elaana's eyes now, and she blinked it away with her long lashes. If there weren't a table between them, Max was sure she would have bundled them up in a full-wing hug and refused to let them go. "We'll support you through it all, we promise. You're part of our crew - our family, and we never want you to feel otherwise!"
"Well, uh, thanks. I see you all as family too...?" Max glanced at the four remaining crew members. Dhaca and Lenzoill were quiet but obviously upset, Qhals was staring at the ceiling with their fanged muzzle pulled into a tight grimace, and Ir'ith was -
Ir'ith was smirking.
Max narrowed their eyes at the inventory manager who also served as the ships cook (for the simple fact that he was the only one onboard who could cook). The zad merely shrugged when their eyes met, though his grin was growing.
"I think I'm missing something here." Max admitted, looking between Gorvan and Taurvin. "This is all because I got a chocolate craving?"
"A craving?" Elaana almost lunged across the table at the word, the only thing holder her back Ir'ith's hand on her shoulder. "You mean you've had chocolate before?"
"Well, yeah? All the time." Max was not expecting the horrified expressions they received.
"So humans treat theobromine as a drug?" Epitak asked, aghast.
"Noooo...? It's a dessert. Like, a sweet treat." Max had no idea what was going on now, but by the way Ir'ith's shoulders were shaking, he did. "Hershey's is a candy bar."
"Wait," Dhaca finally spoke up, leaning forward and shoving his glasses (well, glass - one lens for one eye and all) to the top of his head, "theobromine is not toxic to humans?"
"I'm assuming that theo-stuff is chocolate?" When Dhaca nodded, Max nodded in return. "Yeah, no, chocolate isn't toxic to humans. I ate it all the time on Earth."
Ir'ith gave up and cackled, sounding a bit like the grackles Max used to watch in their back garden on Earth. The avian's wings flapped a few times as he laughed, having to lean forward and grasp his stomach with taloned claws to keep himself from falling out of his chair. When he finally glanced up at Max, it was to the flattest look the human could manage, which only sent him into another gale of laughter.
Taurvin sighed, pinching the bridge of his boar-like snout. "I believe this has all been a misunderstanding," he spoke over the cooks laughter, which had turned into squeaky gasps. "Dismissed."
A few befuddled glances were thrown Max's way, but the rest of the crew were quick to leave, avoiding Ir'ith's flapping wings as they squeezed out of the room. Soon only the cook, first mate, captain, and navigator were left.
"Sorry, kid." Ir'ith finally came up for breath, wiping at his eyes as he regained his composure. He fished into one of the many pockets that adorned his poncho and produced a bar wrapped in purple foil, which he tossed to Max. The human caught it and felt their whole face light up. "No hard feelings, right?"
"None at all, dude!" Max tore open the wrapping and took a big bite of the Cadbury Dairy Milk Bar, nearly melting at the familiar, sweet flavor exploding on their tongue.
"For the record," Ir'ith said as he stood, cracking his back, "Zad's can eat chocolate to. Let me know next time you have a craving." He sauntered out of the room, humming happily.
The three sat in silence for a moment, other than the crinkle of the chocolate bar wrapper. Finally, Taurvin cleared his throat.
"Max, I apologize for not conferring with you in private beforehand." The captain sighed. "I did not wish to embarrass you, but an intervention was suggested and I believed that comfort from your crew would be the best way to show the seriousness of our support were you truly entertaining the thought of self euthanasia."
The human shrugged. "It was nice to hear you all care about me, even though I've only been on board a few months," they admitted. "And I got chocolate out of it." He wiggled the remains of the bar.
"Still, if you ever feel the need for mental health services, they are available to you. And if there is ever anything I or the rest of the crew can do to assist you in that way, please don't hesitate to ask." Taurvin placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head, a show of sincerity for his people.
"Well," Max tapped the chocolate against their chin in thought, "there may be one thing. Have you ever heard of cats?"
Next: Bluffing
EC Theobromine Character & Worldbuilding Notes
Original Reddit Prompt:
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kingkatsuki · 8 months ago
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This is the first time in a long, long time that I’ve actually been proud of a fic so I really hope you enjoy it. I’m already formulating a second part in my mind, or maybe a third who knows.
Summary: Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.
All you have with Sanemi Shinazugawa are fleeting moments together, while he tries so desperately not to give you his heart.
Warnings: 18+, blood!mention, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, foreplay, sex with feelings, light choking, Sanemi calls us a slut once, fingering, breeding!mention, slight spoilers for the final arc but moreso to do with Sanemi’s appearance.
Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader. 
Word Count: 6.3k.
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You always enjoyed watching the stars. Constellations swirling above granted you a cherished moment to forget about the mundane routine of life. A welcome break between the early rise of working beneath your father at the family bakehouse, slaving away until each loaf was sold before leaving you to clean up the mess. The local Izakaya called his name as he would not return home until what little profit he’d earned was squandered. 
You couldn't even blame him, this wasn’t the life that either of you had wanted or planned for. 
Your brother, who was training to become a demon slayer, now dead. Your mother ran away with a travelling merchant she’d met in the village after as though to numb the pain of losing him. You weren’t even sure if she was still alive, but you wondered if she’d been granted the chance of a new start. A new family— forgetting all about you in the process as you were left to this pitiful existence with your drunk of a father.
This was the only time you truly felt serene. Your back was flat against the dewy grass as the cool evening chill whipped at your ankles, toes almost numb from the chill as your eyes met where one pattern ended and another began. 
The crunch of footsteps through gravel broke you from your daydream as you jolted straight, wide eyes snapping towards the source of the noise as you noticed a white-haired man hunched over. 
“Sanemi?” You had to blink to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you, the soft candlelight from your home only enough to add a gentle glow to your surroundings as you stood. 
Bare feet rushed through sodden grass as you felt the ache of small pebbles digging into your soles as you made your way towards him, trying to ignore the way the gravel seemed to indent into your skin as you reached him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him, the last time you’d felt him— you weren’t even certain he was still alive until now. 
He stopped you when you were close enough, rough palms gripping your arms to keep you at bay. Sanemi’s touch was always bruising, but you knew better than to think he was trying to push you away. You’d learned a long time ago that he struggled to articulate his feelings, and something that once had your heart aching now filled you with a comforting warmth. 
“I don’t want to get you dirty.” He shook his head, and it was then you noticed the blood and grime that doused him. 
Wondering whether the blood was his, dried crimson caked his skin and the torn fabric of his haori. Wondering if he’d noticed, nor even cared if it was. You felt tears begin to clump in your lashes as you stared up at his lilac eyes, hands reaching out for him despite being held back as you gently prised yourself out of his grip. 
“Didn’t I tell you not to stay out this late alone,” He growled, “It’s not safe.”
“I have the sword you left,” You smile up at him, anxious to reach out and hold him, “I remember how to use it.”
Sanemi feels his chest swell with pride that you do, after spending the time to teach you how to properly defend yourself from all the bad in the world. The darkness that shouldn’t sully your perfect soul, although he notices that the sword is nowhere to be seen in the grass beside you.
“I’m unsure what use it is to you when it’s lying more than a stone's throw away.” 
“I’ll bring it with me next time,” You laugh, and Sanemi feels himself physically relax at the tone. 
Once Sanemi was sure you weren’t going to jump him and ruin your pretty night kimono he let go, allowing you to reach up and place a palm against his cheek as he leaned into your touch. Your hands were freezing from being out in the cool evening air, but his cheek blazed with heat. It was comforting as he exhaled softly, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment to indulge himself with the feeling of you. The saccharine scent of you invaded his senses as his calloused palms found purchase on your hips, gripping you tight as though trying to convince himself that you were real. 
His chest was heaving, which made you wonder if he’d struggled to make it here, noticing a fresh gash against his pectoral that answered your question about the source of all the blood. 
“Sanemi, you’re hurt.” You mumbled, noticing the blood now dripping onto the gravel beneath your toes. 
“‘m fine,” He shook his head, but the state of him seemed otherwise. 
“No, you’re not,” You frowned, scrunching your nose so cutely that Sanemi had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss you. 
“I’m fine, woman,” He barked, but there was no bite. Not to you, “I’ve dealt with far worse.”
“Even so,” You shook your head, taking one of his hands in your own, “I’d hate for you to have made it this far just to be scuppered by a surface wound.” Sanemi’s lips curled into a genuine smile at that, teeth bared as he allowed you to lead him back towards your home, “Let me bandage it up so it doesn’t become infected.” 
You knew what you were getting into when you started dating the Wind Pillar, despite his numerous attempts to push you away. Telling you it was for your own good, to keep you safe. That you deserved better. And Sanemi was certain that was true, you deserved someone far better than him. Someone that would treat you well, and not leave you wondering whether you'd ever see him again. It was selfish really, for him to expect you to wait for him each time. To settle for fleeting moments and stolen kisses— but it was your fault, you’d done this. You’d made him fall for you. And what good was living a safe life if it didn’t include him?
You lead him around your small nagaya, the bills so high you were certain it wouldn’t be yours for much longer. But you didn’t want to trudge blood through the house and have to explain it to your father when he woke up. 
“Let me carry you,” Sanemi started as he noticed your bare soles stepping through the pebbled path, his grip on your hand tightening.
He didn’t even question why you weren’t wearing sandals, like most other men probably would. He knew you loved the stars. It’s as though he understood the exact reason you’d been out here without them, despite the dangers of being alone and vulnerable so late at night. Sanemi knew every part of you, probably even better than you knew yourself and yet somehow he would never quite afford you that same luxury. Always trying to keep you at arm's length, in his own selfish way of protecting you. Or so he thought—
“I’m quite alright to walk, Shinazugawa.” You teased, and you could practically feel the growl vibrate through him once you’d called him by his family name. 
“When have I ever been known as Shinazugawa to you?” He sneered, but followed behind as you opened the sliding door.
“I seem to remember you demanding I call you that when my brother trained under you, Shinazugawa.” You smiled softly, ignoring the gentle pang in your heart at the loss of your sibling, “I remember you calling me rather annoying too.”
“I called you a pain in my ass, actually.” He delighted in the sweet laughter that surrounded him at that memory, as he kicked his shoes off at the door.
Sanemi was silent as you sat him down on the wooden floor in the room where you slept as you began to grab the items you would need to patch him up, closing the sliding door behind you as you returned to find him dozing against your futon. 
“Oi,” You teased, a habit you’d picked up from him, “Don’t fall asleep yet, you might have a concussion.”
“You think I’m foolish enough to let a demon near my head, woman?” 
“No,” You smiled, kneeling beside him as you pulled back the open front of his demon slayer uniform, “But you are foolish enough to hit your head.”
Sanemi’s glare had you breaking out into a soft giggle as you tried to quieten yourself so as not to wake any of the sleeping occupants nearby, shaking your head as he allowed you to work at the wound that marked his skin. Teeth clenched as you pressed gauze against it before bandaging it to prevent dirt from entering the wound. You were glad it didn’t appear to be deep, and would certainly not leave a scar as impressive as the ones that already littered his skin. But as it was still bleeding when he’d arrived, you wondered how long it had been since his battle. 
“Why did you come here?” You mumbled as you finished up your haphazard attempt at bandaging his wound. Something you’d learned to do the first time your father had returned home drunk and knocked his head falling over the entry step whilst removing his sandals. A skill you’d tried to hone over the years, but to this day it still seemed to be a work in progress.
But of course, Sanemi still came to you, even though he’d certainly receive better care from the Butterfly Mansion. Or at the very least a better dose of medication to relieve the pain— but time and time again he’d always leave you with the same response.
“I always find my way back to you.” 
Which is why he navigated towards you like a compass searching for the North Star. And even after all this time, you still continued to ask the same question. Because you liked the sound of the answer that left his lips. 
“You’re foolish to think I take better care of you than the Kakushi there,” You smiled down at him as he grumbled beneath you. 
“And yet I’m still alive.”
“I’m unsure whether that’s by luck or chance, but it’s certainly not because of me.” You snort, shaking your head as you reach for the warm water you’d prepared to help clean his dirty skin. Soaking a soft cloth before you began to run it against his forehead and cheeks. 
“There’s no need for that,” He scoffs, his large palm wraps around your wrist to pull you away from him as you frown. 
“You’re filthy, Sanemi.” You scrunch your nose, “And you stink.” 
You were ashamed to admit to him that you loved the way he smelt. His musky sweat was laced with the scent of grass and the rice bran he’d used to wash days earlier. You always found yourself basking in it, allowing it to intoxicate you as you fell even deeper. 
“You’ve never had a problem with me being filthy before.” Sanemi ponders, his hand reaching up to smooth over the soft curve of your hip, “In fact, I’m certain I remember you saying you liked it.”
Your cheeks burned from his implication, feeling the neglected space between your thighs throb with desire as you subtly shifted thigh to thigh. A movement that didn’t go unnoticed by the hashira below you, a cocky smirk on his face as he flattened his palm on your lower back. Pushing down to bring you closer to him, your face hovering mere inches from his own as his warm breath fanned your face. 
“I missed you,” You hum softly, admiring the way the flickering burn of your lantern illuminated his chiselled face. Your lips brushed over his own in the faintest kiss, his fingers tightening in the fabric of your nightdress as he tried to pull you back to repeat the motion. 
“Not as much as me,” He husked, reaching his other hand up to hold the back of your neck. Two fingers dug into the curve while his calloused thumb stroked your jaw, reconnecting your lips in a deeper kiss. His nose bumped against yours before tilting his head to the side to push his tongue into your eager mouth, finding your own as he swallowed the desperate whine that threatened to spill. 
You’d missed this, missed him. Your hands threaded through his messy white hair as your nails dragged against his scalp, causing Sanemi to grunt as he pulled you down to the futon beside him. Curving his frame over you as he groaned deep and low in his throat from the intense pain that shot through his side from the sudden movement. 
“Sanemi, you shouldn’t move,” You stared up at him in worry as you broke the kiss, a snarl of irritation appearing on his face as he tried to bring you back to him, “You’re hurt.” 
“Shut up,” He snarled, but there was no real malice behind it. 
He was far rougher this time as if trying to prove to you that he was fit to do this— to take care of you. Settling himself between your parted thighs as you felt him lean himself on you, a comforting weight as you reconnected your lips. His kiss was far more ferocious, a mess of tongue and teeth as hands disappeared beneath the silken fabric of your night dress. Bunching the material around your hips as he lurched forward, pressing his desire against your clothed core as he swallowed your whines. 
You could tell he was exercising restraint. Wanting nothing more than to rip the fabric from your quivering body and reveal your skin to him, but it would be left as evidence of your exploits. And since your father still thought his daughter was pure, it would be a foolish move. Instead, he pushed it higher, letting it settle above the swell of your naked breasts as he bit back a sigh. Teeth gnawing at his lower lip as he broke the kiss to indulge in the sight of you, thumbing the underside of your soft mounds as he watched your nipples stiffen to round peaks in the cool evening air. 
How had he been so lucky to find you? To convince someone as perfect as you to lie with him? He had no clue, but he was certain it was evidence of the existence of ame. Not that he would ever make it there, and if this was the closest he’d ever get he would die content. 
“Sanemi,” You cooed, breaking him away from his thoughts as you stroked your fingers along his neck. Following the curve of his collarbones as Sanemi dipped his head lower, lips circling one of your taut nipples as he sucked hard. Glaring up at you with purple eyes when you moaned loud, immediately biting down hard on your lip you were certain you’d drawn blood. 
“If you can’t be quiet when I touch you here—” He reached a palm up to grope your other breast for emphasis, moulding the skin between his fingers as he massaged gently, “Then how will I be able to feast on your cunt?” 
You were noisy. So much so that Sanemi had to press his palm to your mouth to quieten you, a crude smirk on his lips as he nuzzled the junction between your breasts. Kissing a path down your stomach as he followed every line and curve, removing his hand from your mouth when he was more certain you’d be quiet as he reached down to curl his fingers into your panties. Pulling them down your thighs to bare you to him completely. 
“Beautiful.” He hummed beneath his breath as his thumbs spread you open, cherishing the way your slick broke off into silvery strings against your folds, “Is this all for me?”
“Yes,” You felt hot beneath his sweltering gaze, heart pounding against your ribcage as he settled on his stomach. Pressing the softest kiss to the top of your mound before curling his forearms beneath your parted thighs, shamelessly inhaling the scent of you as he pressed another kiss against you, this time to your sensitive clit. 
“Fuck,” The motion had your hips bucking wildly, his palm splayed flat against your pelvis as he tightened his grip around your thighs. 
“Still so sensitive,” He murmured, granting you another lingering kiss as he tasted you on his lips, “Is this how much she missed me?” 
“Don’t talk like that, Sanemi.” And it wasn’t because he was talking to your cunt and not to you, it was the crude words that seemed to flow from his lips so effortlessly that left your stomach swirling in knots and a delicious ache between your thighs. 
“Oh?” He hummed, dragging his tongue through the mess you’d— he’d made between your thighs, “Are you saying she didn’t miss me? Was there another keeping you satisfied while I was gone?”
You could hear the jealousy behind his words, the cruel lilt to his voice that had him digging his fingertips into your skin just that much harder. Sanemi was no fool, he knew you’d make the perfect wife for many respectable men. And he was certain that none would refuse— it wasn’t peculiar to think that you had offers while he was gone, or at the very least the promise of your father selling you to pay off his debts. 
But you couldn’t tell him the truth right now. That your father had been searching for a suitor for you, finally settling on one that he deemed fit (and it certainly wasn’t because he was the highest bidder). A man from the next village over who would look after you, you were assured. A man that you could happily live out the rest of your days with, and give up the long hours spent in your father's bakery. 
You were certain if Sanemi knew he would see red, even if there was no chance of him asking for your hand instead. A Demon Slayer, a Hashira no less, would make the perfect prize for any young woman. Easily setting you up for life, even if they didn’t make it out alive, nor make it past their twenty-fifth birthday. It was why so many were reluctant to take on wives, content with aiding their needs with the local courtesans whenever they’d rest for the night. 
Your father still thought of you as pure, a virgin. If he found out he’d surely sell you to the local brothel to pay off his debts instead, a life far worse than a loveless marriage you supposed. But it wouldn’t make a difference when none of those paths led you to Sanemi. 
“It’s only ever been you,” You spoke softly and sincerely as you stared down at your lover, an answer that seemed to appease him as he nuzzled your soft cunt. Unabashedly licking a long stripe from the tight rim of your asshole all the way through your slick, causing you to whine beneath him as his tongue delved deeper, pushing inside your fluttering hole. 
“Good.” He spoke against your sex, your fingers winding through his messy hair as you rolled your hips against his face. The flat of his tongue lapped at you as though tasting the sweetest ambrosia, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out with urgency. Moaning into your cunt as he pushed his tongue as deep as it would go, lashing against your inner walls as you writhed against tousled sheets.
You gasped as he added his two right fingers, curling them inside you as he pressed them against the spongy spot inside you that he knew like the back of his hand. His lips wrapped around your puffy clit as he sucked hard, eyes staring up at you from his position as he watched you come apart for him. Your walls trembling in the throws of your climax that surged through you in harsh waves. You’d expected him to stop, to allow you a moment's respite, but he didn’t. Devouring you like a man starved as he continued to feast on your cunt. You were trying desperately to keep quiet, your own hand clamping over your mouth in a feeble attempt to silence yourself as your debauched moans still broke through. 
Not that Sanemi was much quieter, the lewd smack of his lips against your sopping folds filled the room as he slurped at your slick. Collecting it in his mouth before crudely spitting it back down on your clit, letting it dribble towards your greedy hole where his fingers were fucking into you with vigour. Feeling your walls clamp down around his ring and pinky finger as he worked you through your climax, intent on giving you another before he even thought about pulling away. 
He made it difficult to think as blown eyes stared up at the ceiling, your thighs clamping down around his head as you tried to push him off your overstimulated heat. 
“Stop squirmin’,” He snarled against your clit, showcasing his sheer display of strength as he tugged your thighs open for him again, “I know you can take it, and you will.”
Your hole throbbed around his fingers at his crude tone, the pleasure swirling in your pelvis as he worked to draw another orgasm from your pliant body. Watching the way you were trying to blink back tears as he sucked your clit hard, thrashing beneath him as he felt it surge through you in harsh waves. 
“Sanemi,” You choked back a sob as you felt the pleasure consume you, thighs trembling as your cunt gushed and throbbed around his digits. Smirking against your slit in satisfaction as he worked you through it, lapping at your clit as you mewled pathetically. 
“So beautiful.” He hummed, smacking his lips in satisfaction as he finally pulled away to give you a moment to calm your racing heart. Shamelessly suckling at his fingers as he cleaned your release from them, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against the apex of your thighs. 
You gasped as a sudden pain surged through you, feeling Sanemi’s teeth bite down onto the supple skin of your inner thigh as he began to suck a deep bruise into your flesh. Causing your body to convulse as he left his mark on you. He was never foolish enough to leave anything in plain sight, evidence of your debauchery and certain to sign your courtesan sentence. This was his way of leaving his lingering presence on your body, to claim you as his. The subtle ebb of it whenever you walked evidence that you belonged to him— because no matter what, you would always be his. 
He pressed a final, soothing kiss to the wound as he moved up your body, settling your thighs over his own as he busied himself with undoing his belt. Letting the top of his uniform settle around his waist as he bared his top half. Slapping your greedy hands away as you reached between your thighs to grab at his thick, heavy cock. The weight of it had it drooping down towards the floor, forking veins following the length of it as they lead towards a blushing uncut tip leaking with pre. 
“Don’t you dare,” He chastised as you gave him a needy pout, licking your lips at the thought of how long it had really been, “You know I won’t last.”
You boldly ogled him, watching as he wrapped himself in a strong fist to give himself some relief. Pulling the foreskin back as he smoothed the leaking tip between your dripping folds, covering himself in your slick. Gasping as the bulging head nudged your clit, before it caught against your fluttering hole. Your desperate cunt tried to coax him in as you started to roll your hips towards him invitingly. 
“I’m sure you’ve become a greedy succubus since we met,” He goads, grinning down at you whilst pressing the fat tip of his cock against your tight entrance, “So damn needy.”
“It’s your fault,” You bite back, “You’ve turned me into this.”
“Oh, yeah?” He hums pensively, pushing his hips forward as he feels your hole begin to swallow him, “I’ve turned you into a desperate little slut?”
“Only for you.” You cry out when he cants his hips forward at your response, burying his cock inside you with one rough thrust. 
“F-uck,” Sanemi’s eyes roll as he feels your cunt consume him whole. His balls pressed snugly against the curve of your ass as the messy hairs sat at the base tickle your clit. 
Sanemi had always felt big, the sensation always caught in your throat whenever he’d fill you to the brim. Your exploits are few and far between when he lived the life of a Hashira, never knowing when would be the next time— or if this would be your last. But he always granted you a moment to adjust to his size and a chance for him to admire the way your throat bobbed and your eyes rolled as you felt him fill you whole. 
Sanemi settled himself on his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressed skin to skin, so close you could feel each other's heartbeats. His hands held your head as he began to push his hips forward, starting a steady pace as he ground into you. 
“I’ve missed you,” He rasped, resting his forehead against yours as his gaze bore into your own. Your arms wound around his body to cling to his muscular back, nails leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake as the blunt head of his cock carved you into the shape of him. 
“I missed you too,” You whine, trying to choke back a moan as you pressed your lips to his, “Missed you so much.”
Your thighs clung to his muscular waist, holding him tight as he ground into you. Sending delicious friction directly to your clit as you tried to pull him impossibly closer, wanting to feel every part of him. The curve of his heavy cock was perfectly positioned to drag against the spot inside you that he knew better than the back of his hand, focusing his attention on it with each roll of his hips. 
“Taking me so well,” He groaned, already feeling the telltale signs of your impending climax, “Good girl.”
You were Sanemi’s proof that there was still good in the world, that there were still some things worth saving, worth cherishing. His nose brushed against yours as he brought you into another sensual kiss, swallowing the desperate cries that wracked through your body as you tried desperately to keep quiet. Your nails dragged crimson red lines down the expanse of his back as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of another climax, leaving marks he was proud to wear as your toes began to curl. 
The coil inside you snapped roughly as you were propelled into your climax. Your entire body convulsing as you came undone, harsh waves of pleasure crashed through you as Sanemi swallowed his name from your throat. 
He pulled back to watch you, tilting his head to the side as he fucked you through your release. His mouth was no longer able to conceal the desperate pants that escaped and mixed with the sound of skin against skin as he continued his rough pace. 
You turned your head to the side on your soft pillow, shy at the way he was looking at you as he loomed over you. The feeling had your stomach swirling in knots as he brought his hand to your jaw to pull your attention back to focus on him. 
“You were so concerned about being loud,” He goaded, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around the column of your throat, “But here you are trying to wake the entire village.”
Your cunt clenched at that, hard. Causing Sanemi to smirk in satisfaction as he started to press down on your windpipe, feeling the way your cunt tightened in response as his hulking form curved over you. Using your body for his own pleasure as he felt the intense heat blazing from between your thighs. Tits bouncing from the ferocity of his thrusts, as you proceeded to wonder if he might actually want you both to be caught like this. So he could finally tell your father that he was taking you away from this and making you, his. 
“Oi,” Sanemi’s fingers pulsed against your neck, trying to bring your focus back to him, “Are you still with me? Or have I fucked all sense from you?”
Sanemi’s grin was maniacal as your cunt clenched around him in response, your head lolling back against the pillow as he kept his bruising pace. Unable to do much from this position but lay back and take it as he used your body for his own pleasure. 
You felt delirious, the pleasure all-consuming as Sanemi drove his hips forward. Thrusting into you with the stamina and precision only a Hashira could have, his perception telling him exactly how to move in order to have you writhing beneath him as he focused his attention on that same spongy spot inside you. Focusing his thrusts as the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with each forward motion, dragging his length against your g-spot each time he pulled back. 
“Such a greedy little thing,” He provokes, each word annunicated with a rut of his hips. Certain he won’t be able to last much longer, your hips buck up against him and he can feel your slick drooling down his length and coating his balls. 
Your hands are fisting the thin sheet covering your futon now, groaning when you realise that he’s trying to hold back. Waiting for you to climax once more before he affords himself the same relief. And it’s hard to hold back, especially when you look so innocent and malleable beneath him. You really were far too good for the likes of him. 
Sanemi wonders what he would be like if he did cum inside you, coating your pliant walls with his sticky spend. Imagining how pretty and ethereal you’d look all plump and round as you carry his child, giving him an heir to the Shinazugawa name and carrying his family on through generations. Thinking of the docile life he could spend with you, living the rest of your days peacefully and away from all the trials and tribulations that come with being a Hashira. 
But a life like that would never be possible, not when there is still a single demon out there wandering the streets and waiting to destroy every unblemished part of his life. The image of losing you is too much for him to bear, the mere thought of it has an immeasurable pain shooting through him and striking him straight through the heart. Sanemi would do anything to keep you safe, and if it meant being alone for the rest of his days or sacrificing himself for you— he’d do it. 
And what’s worse is Sanemi knew you’d let him cum inside you, your mind already fucked stupid and completely intoxicated with arousal. He bets he could get you to agree to anything when you’re like this, so desperate and compliant beneath him. You’d let him bury his cock inside you to the hilt and shoot rope after rope of his hot spend inside your fertile womb. 
He’s sweating now. Letting go of your neck in favour of gripping onto your soft hips, the perfect child-bearing hips as he has to bite back a moan. Breaking skin as he gnaws at his bottom lip hard, nose scrunched as he feels the tip of his cock presses snugly against your cervix with each forward motion. 
“Sanemi,” You practically sing his name as a warning as he feels the way your walls convulse around his heavy cock, desperately trying to milk him of his release, “I’m cumming, oh god, I’m cumming.”
He doesn’t bother silencing you this time, indulging in the whiny lilt of your voice as he feels you gush around him. Almost forgetting that he’s supposed to be pulling out as he curses beneath his breath, the coil inside his pelvis snaps abruptly as he manages to pull out, just barely— thick, hot ropes of his potent seed spurt against your quivering cunt as they coat your folds. His rough hand wraps around himself to jerk it roughly as more land against your pelvis and stomach, some making it as far as the underside of your breasts as his chest heaves. 
You’re a mess, he thinks as he stares down at the remnants of his spend. His cock still leaking with a final few trickles of his release as he smears it against your inner thigh before sitting back on his haunches to admire the scene. Silvery white coats your clit, drooling all the way down to the curve of your ass as it disappears between your cheeks, settled on top of your mound as it leaves streaky lines along your tummy and then spots around your breasts. But still part of him regrets not finishing inside you, emptying his balls inside your warm, wet cunt to claim you as his.
It’s a bad idea, terribly really— but he can’t help himself, as Sanemi leans down to collect some of his spend on your clit against his thumb, revelling in the way you keen against him from the sensitivity as he dips it lower and pushes it inside your creamy, abused hole. Watching with curious, lilac eyes at how easily and eagerly your body sucks it in. The mess disappears inside your trembling walls as he fucks it deeper, pulling out to smear the rest into your clit as your body shivers and pushes it out with the aftershocks of your climax.
“It’s too much, Sanemi.” You mumble tiredly, trying to cling to his forearms as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.
He reaches over to the bowl of water you’d brought in for him, wincing at how tepid it is now as he submerges the cloth, wringing it out between rough fingers as he begins to clean you up. Starting with the drying cum that coats your body as goosebumps begin to prickle your skin from how gentle he is, taking his time to clean the cloth and repeat the process as he nears the junction of your legs. Cleaning his spend from your inner thighs before running the cloth through your sticky folds, pressing a kiss to your knee as you whine about how sensitive you are as he tries to clean you with as much care as he can— As though he’s frightened you might break. He’s gentle as he pulls your nightgown back down your body, smoothing the fabric as he smiles down at you softly.
Sanemi doesn’t bother cleaning himself and refuses your help when you offer it. Perfectly content to leave your drying slick coating his skin as he pulls his pants back up, preparing to tighten his belt before he looks down at the dejected expression on your face.
“Are you not staying for a while, Sanemi?” You mumble softly. Acutely aware that it’s a risk to ask something so bold of him, especially when your father could walk in at any time and catch you with the Wind Hashira.
His gaze softens in a way reserved just for you as he cups your cheek, rough fingers catching against your soft skin as he leans down to connect your lips in a sensual kiss. Wordlessly dropping to the futon beside you as he pulls you into his arms, burying your face in his chest as you listen to the rhythm of his heart beating hard and fast. His fingers stroke absentminded patterns against your back as he buries his nose into the top of your head, greedily surrounding himself with your scent as he cherishes the moment. Trying to commit everything to memory so he can remember this on those dark days when he’s without you.
This should’ve been the moment you told him about the possibility of your father marrying you off, but you couldn’t. He didn’t need to know, and it was better this way. You could tell him in the morning, he was already tired from his travels and you wanted this happiness to last just that little longer.
But you didn’t realise that he’d be gone by morning, the only sign he was ever here was the dirty water, and drops of blood that soaked into the hardwood, and stuck to the fabric of your nightdress. Each time he left you like this, it had you wondering whether that would be the last time you’d see him.
Sanemi knew you would always be his beacon of light, the only brightness in this dark pathetic world. At night he’d stare up at the same night sky as you, wondering if this is what you were doing right now too— searching out for the North Star that would help guide him back home to you.
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