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savage-rhi · 2 years

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Immortal Shield Chapter 36: Gods Bane III

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Tagging: @seradyn

Chasing Noctis down was a feat Ardyn didn’t anticipate would be such a hassle. For every moment Ardyn came close to stopping him, there was always an obstacle to be met. Whether it be debris, a random object, or crownsguard getting in the way, Noctis was a step ahead. Ardyn at this point was unsure if this was the doing of Bahamut or his weary grand nephew at this rate. Maybe both. It was quite difficult to tell who was controlling the reins of the kings body. Ardyn sensed the turmoil nonetheless while he continued his pursuit. There was a battle residing within Noctis that couldn't be seen on the outside.

Ardyn was growing impatient. The scourge fired up his irritability and increased it by ten fold. He kept reminding himself however that something had to give. There were limitations to the human body, even if a God was attempting to hijack it for nefarious means. Ardyn had to keep going. He had to settle the score. He had to help Noctis.

Help Noctis…Gods above, Ardyn never thought he would be contemplating such pitiful sentiment. There was no way he could have foresaw anything akin to this experience happening months ago upon his resurrection day. As he traversed down a narrow hallway--with Noctis’s body flailing while he snarled mid run like a rabid beast-- Ardyn remembered the conversation he and Caelan had in the Scepter regarding his stance on involvement with his descendants. There were so many aspects of their conversation coming full circle. If he wasn’t so hellbent on ripping the soul of Bahamut apart, Ardyn might’ve laughed.

“You dare call me the coward earlier?!” Ardyn shouted. He stretched his right arm out. A shadow ball of energy launched itself from the palm of his hand, missing Noctis’s head by a inch as he turned a corner, nearly slipping in the process.

“Look at you running away! Now you know what it’s like being a mere man with everything to lose you damned god! So much for your talk about teaching me a grand lesson on pittance!”

"Adagium, thou test my patience and my wrath. I have control yet again. No more running."

Ardyn’s eyes widened as Noctis suddenly came to a halt. The kings screeching voice was a gravel mix of his own and the draconic Astral. Ardyn nearly slammed into Noctis, only to be punched backwards at the last second. Ardyn flinched, his head jerked to the right and the Sword of the Father came crashing down into his left shoulder. The blade dug deep, cutting through flesh and muscle fibers. The searing pain had Ardyn scream aloud while he broke free from the grasp of the weapon. His blood flung across the carpeting and wall. Noctis prepared to unleash an upper slash, only for Ardyn to counter with a horizontal before the attack could be completed. Ardyn cut through Noctis’s midsection, not enough to spill guts, but Rakshasa had made the wound bleed profusely.

"It was a mistake entrusting fate to thou and thy kin in the past. I will ensure New Eos never seeds the likes of your blood."

“There won’t be a New Eos!” Ardyn shouted in between attacks. “Not if I kill you first!”

"If thou kills me thy slay the King of Light. Thou purged his blood twice for the selfish desires of healing and death. Monster thou is. More so than I."

“Healing people was never a mistake! And I never wished to be a kin slayer! You played both Noctis and I for pawns in your grand scheme to be rid of the scourge! You destroyed my brother’s soul and took away my beloved! You gave me no repentance, only suffering! Don’t you dare deny it!” Ardyn yelled. His daemonic aura pulsed violently around his body to counter the emerging light that was overtaking Noctis’s form. Rakshasa and the Sword of the Father continued to strike one another with equal ferocity to their respective masters. Their fight became chaotic and unpredictable, eventually sending them both from the hallway and into the large audience chamber of the citadel, agility and power evenly matched.

"Do thee truly wish to repeat the same mistakes? Thy is at fault for many said consequences, not myself."

“The only mistake I see here, is you screwing with the wrong bloodline!” Ardyn bellowed, managing to break out of his deadlock with Noctis. He kicked the king square in the chest, sending Noctis barreling down the chamber. Ardyn performed a series of warp strikes before Noctis had a chance to land on his feet. He made several decisive cuts throughout Noctis’s body. The arms and where the major tendons lay, the upper and lower thighs, and the right side of his torso behind the hips. Each attack strategic to ensure he wouldn't outright kill the boy.

When Ardyn finished, he disappeared into a cloud of black smoke and moved away. Noctis hit the floor with a loud crash. Several agonizing yells escaped his lips while Bahamut tried to force the body back onto its feet. The draconic deity was met with great struggle. Violent shudders and disorienting movements left Noctis with every gesture of his flesh as Bahamut tried to force his will upon the king.

"No!!!"

Bahamut shouted through his host, managing to rise onto feeble knees. Noctis’s entire right arm quaked with burning pain from the slices to the tendons Ardyn performed. He could barely grip the Sword of the Father, the hilt trembled in hand even with the assistance of the left.

“Now I’m free at last. Free to end you…”

Ardyn grunted, he collapsed onto one knee while using Raksasha to steady himself and his other leg. His left shoulder throbbed. The warmth of Ardyn's blood traveled down his skin, sending a shudder down his spine. He could feel the will of the scourge beckon him to approach Bahamut, and so he did just that. Ardyn forced himself to his feet, struggling for a time and then began his descent towards his opponent. Growls and inhuman rasps left his mouth while he grit his sharp teeth, his left hand gestured outward. Ardyn felt a powerful energy rise to his palm, seemingly being drawn from every nerve ending in his body. It was as if the scourge was manifesting into a singular point and was preparing itself for a final strike. That was the best way Ardyn could describe it to himself. He had never felt anything like this before during his time of affliction.

“Ardyn, wait!”

He suddenly came to a halt. Ardyn's hand remained outstretched as he looked over Noctis’s body and saw a familiar face come into vision from one of the grand hallways and into the audience chamber. A face that reminded him all too well of Aera. One that haunted Ardyn and had him incredibly enraged after he slayed her in cold blood.

“Lady Lunafreya--!” Ardyn swallowed, his black and gold eyes carded over her in a matter of seconds. She winced, her right hand grabbed a hold of her swollen belly while she ran with her trident. It dawned on Ardyn that she was with child. He let out a gasp, fully realizing the danger not only she was putting herself in, but that of her infant being here in this mess. He could already see it now, how Bahamut would exploit something so precious to get ahead. Ardyn understood because had he been in the Astral’s position, he too would’ve contemplated such a heinous plot. Yet unlike him, Ardyn knew Bahamut had the will to ensure his hostage wouldn’t get out of this alive.

“Stay back, don’t play the hero! It’s too dangerous!” Ardyn shouted.

“Ardyn, we have to put Noctis to sleep it’s the only way for the scourge to---!” Lunafreya’s voice hitched while she screamed out. Bahamut, through Noctis, drew up enough strength to teleport behind Lunafreya. Her trident disappeared. The blade of Noctis's sword was pressed firmly to her throat, already drawing blood. Her eyes were painted with shock, her breathing quickened further making the sharp stings of the blade to her flesh more prominent.

When Ardyn focused long enough, he could see the usual colors most humans could comprehend blend into shades that were unfathomable. It was akin to a reptile picking up a heat signature. He could hear Lunafreya’s pulse and see the erratic beat of her heart. Goosebumps traveled down his arms and legs upon sensing the little one's palpitations. It seemed to be reacting strongly to the stress of its parent. Ardyn felt his own heart break, whatever empathy he had tried in vain to hide from most leaked through as he pleaded and screamed at his adversary.

“Your quarrel is with me! Let her go!”

"Move an inch, and she perishes, Adagium."

Ardyn froze in place. The rage that pooled into his eyes would’ve broken the will of any other mortal man, but the Astral didn’t blink through his host. He could feel the might of the scourge urging him on. If such a thing could speak in tongues, Ardyn imagined it telling him that Lunafreya and the life of her child were worthy sacrifices to destroy Bahamut. However, he couldn’t go through with it. No matter what madness coursed through his entire being, or how corrupted his soul had become, Ardyn had a cardinal rule he’d never break no matter how lost he was: he’d never harm a child. Even if it cost him. Memories of Verstael’s cloned babes ran amok through his mind, and how despite convincing Verstael it was a more cost effective investment versus picking off stragglers in Gralea for experimentation, Ardyn never himself laid a finger on the infants. Nor the other kids who happened to catch the eye of the research chief. He had no doubt his indirect actions cost the lives of many kids, but it was easier to digest than if he killed them with his bares hands.

"Lay down Raksasha, and give thyself to me. Only then, will thy guarantee Lady Lunafreya’s safety and the life of the unborn."

Ardyn’s grip around the hilt of his blade tightened. He slowly and with caution--never taking his eyes off Noctis--knelt down and placed the crimson sword at his feet. Ardyn could feel on a primal level the blade calling out to him much like the scourge. Rakshasa desperately sent off vibrations to indicate Ardyn needed its protection. He ignored it, and carefully rose back up.

"Approach me, Adagium."

Ardyn grimaced, picking up on the slight amusement the Astral displayed through Noctis’s voice. He hesitated, then took the first step and then the next. Soon enough, Ardyn was walking right into the hands of the dragon king, ignoring every plead and instinct he had telling him not to do it. He paused in his steps, shaking his head at Lunafreya, for she attempted to gasp out loud and tell Ardyn to stop. Once she settled, Ardyn pressed forward until he was less than five feet away from both Lunafreya and Noctis.

“Here I am,” Ardyn gestured his arms out, further proving the point that he had no ace up his sleeve. No trick or other plan to pull at the last second. This was as vulnerable as Ardyn could get. The aura of the scourge began to behave erratically, pulling in the opposite direction as if it were afraid to be in the presence of Bahamut. A far cry from before when the Astral was in a weaker position.

“Let Lady Lunafreya be at peace, and you shall have your vengeance upon me.” Ardyn said firmly. “I yield to you.”

"The wisest choice thou has made in--!"

Before Bahamut could finish the last of his words, an electric shock traveled through Noctis’s right leg while the sound of a gun fired off. He had been shot. With the wounds Ardyn had already inflicted upon him during their battle, Noctis dropped the Sword of the Father. The weapon clanged to the floor as Lunafreya quickly bottled out of his grasp. Snarling with an inhuman growl, Noctis turned to attack whoever bested him only to be met with a body sprinting at him full force.

“I’m so sorry, bud! You gave me no choice!” Prompto exclaimed, tackling Noctis to the ground. The two struggled with Prompto attempting to seize Noctis and prevent him from moving.

“C’mere!” Ardyn murmured harshly upon arriving to Lunafreya’s side. He cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder, the other at the small of her back to support her body, and moved her away from the scene. Despite his left arm hurting like hell and beyond, Ardyn coaxed Lunafreya to lean on him while she collected herself.

They didn’t have much time. Ardyn didn’t anticipate Prompto could hold his own for long against Noctis at the rate things were going, but he needed to find out what the queen was alluding to before Bahamut tried to play dirty.

“Are you alright?”

Lunafreya nodded.

“I’ll be fine. Ardyn, we need to get Noctis to sleep.” She took in a deep breath and continued. “I received a vision---that Noctis must rest in order to keep Bahamut trapped in the Astral Plane. If he remains awake, Bahamut will come forth through him. You---the scourge---it’s the key.”

“The key?” Ardyn shook his head. His daemonic features flared a bit as he rapidly fired off. “The key, what key?”

“The key,” Lunafreya once more drew in a deep breath. Her legs trembled while her right arm rubbed small circles into her abdomen, trying to soothe the kicks from her infant. “To destroying him. For good.”

“That’s impossible! You can’t permanently kill a god! You should know that more so than anyone else!”

“If it were true as you say, then why are you here? Why else would you fight so hard to defend any of us?” Lunafreya furrowed her brows. The pleading look she gave to Ardyn not to doubt himself had him going through an avalanche of emotions. “You know--somewhere deep down--you know I’m right.”

Ardyn glanced up from Lunafreya and back to the commotion with Noctis and Prompto. The former managed to grab a hold of Prompto by the throat, hoisting him into the air while crushing the retainers wind pipe. The gagging sounds that left Prompto as he desperately tried to claw his way out of the vice grip had Bahamut chuckle through Nocits.

"Foolish boy."

“Take this!”

"...!!!"

Ardyn performed a warp strike from behind, hitting the hilt of Rakshasa right against the back of Noctis’s neck upon summoning the blade. Noctis dropped Prompto within seconds, his eyes began to turn dull and near lifeless while he fell unconscious upon the floor. Taking advantage of the opportunity for a break, Ardyn leaned against one of the marble pillars near. He slouched some, gathering his strength so he’d be ready for another round with the Astral. Ardyn dropped Rakshasa. The blade disappeared for the time being.

Prompto scrambled away from the scene and immediately got up. His right hand held his throat while he coughed several times.

“Prompto, are you well?” Lunafreya’s voice was filled with concern especially when she saw the finger indentations upon his flesh.

“I’ll--I’ll be crystal!” He gave a thumbs up.

“Get Noctis onto his back!”

“Wait--! B-but why?”

“I’m going to perform a sleeping ritual to keep Noctis faint!”

“If you do that, it might hurt you!”

“We have no time, Prompto! We’re going to lose Noctis if we don’t act! We have to help Ardyn!”

Ardyn turned his head, his gaze fixed on both Prompto and Lunafreya while they descended upon Noctis’s body. Prompto grabbed his legs, while Lunafreya grasped a hold of the kings arms. They carefully flipped him so he was resting on his back against the floor. Prompto ran out of the audience chamber to bring more aid while Lunafreya stood at her husbands feet. She took in a deep breath as both her hands firmly grasped onto her trident that she summoned.

Closing her eyes, Lunafreya began to murmur which then grew into a long winded chant with little to no breaks in between. A bright golden light encircled Noctis. Rune like sigils appeared out of thin air, dancing around in a similar fashion the royal arms would perform upon summoning. Ardyn hadn’t seen anything like this for a long time. He knew if Aera were alive, she’d be proud to see her descendent performing such a feat.

Ardyn couldn't believe Lunafreya was pulling a stunt like this given her condition. He imagined Caelan in her shoes. Carrying a babe and trying to fight off a powerful entity. There was no way he could’ve sat back and watched. A part of Ardyn knew that if Noctis was himself, he more than likely would’ve had the same contemplation. Having a woman carry a child was already asking for too much as far as he was concerned. Ardyn shook his head, knowing this wasn’t Noctis’s fault yet he couldn’t help but feel the king wasn’t pulling his weight.

“What am I to do while you chant?” Ardyn hollered. He limped over, standing ten feet behind Lunafreya. He could hear her slow down the enchantment, letting out a hushed but firm whisper.

“Get ready to fight.”

She said it so simply, her voice devoid of emotion that Ardyn felt a chill go down his arms. Lunafreya picked up where she left off. No other questions need be said. Ardyn gestured out with his right arm. Rakshasa answered to his inner call and he prepared. Ardyn breathed deeply, tensing his body up while the scourge flared all throughout his limbs. He became engulfed in shadows while the horns upon his head grew longer. There was a murderous determination that began to spread deeply in his golden hues as Ardyn looked ahead.

The light and runes Lunafreya conjured suddenly snuffed out. She let out a gasp. This wasn’t supposed to happen! She thought to herself. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead. She remained still, eyes glancing around the room before a sudden burst of white light erupted from Noctis’s body. It was blinding as Lunafreya covered her eyes with her hands and arms. Following up the white light was a cerulean blue that moved through the air like a serpent uncoiling, eventually giving shape to Bahamut.

The astral projection of the great god flared it’s four wings out, his arms following suit. A rageful bellowing cry exited Bahamut and reverberated through the layers of armor he wore.

"I will not be condemned by an Oracle and a monster of my own making!"

Ardyn felt his legs sprint, and midway through his run he jumped. His body flew into the air while he gripped the hilt of Rakshasa with all his strength, raising it above his head. Time began to slow for him as the scourge bubbled and pulsed around his body, and as Ardyn yelled out an inhuman cry, Bahamut’s hands desperately tried to reach the center of his chest to keep the blade from piercing his armor. The moment Rakshasa came into contact with the Astral, both Ardyn and Bahamut disappeared in a thick mist of light within the audience chamber, leaving Eos behind them.

The first thing Ardyn registered was his body feeling weightless. He blinked several times, and then the familiar gravity of the Astral Plane resonated. He remembered this place very well. The hues of purples, blues, and white collided and mixed like oil and water; with stardust moving against the atmosphere like low tides trapped within a current. There was a deep serenity to this realm that couldn’t be matched by what creature comforts Eos had to offer. That is, until Ardyn looked ahead and saw his adversary.

Bahamut wasn’t large and imposing like he normally was the few times Ardyn had stared him down face to face. The draconic figure stumbled, gripping his own sword tightly and every so often would use it as a crutch. The gesture was akin to watching a feeble old man relying on the use of his walking stick to get by. Ardyn couldn’t help but huff, immediately capturing the darkened gaze of his enemy.

“Not so holier than thou anymore. are you?” Ardyn couldn’t help but rub salt in the wound.

"I am prepared to offer thou a truce."

“A truce?!” Ardyn made a face, he shook his head. A part of him wanted to laugh hard until his sides hurt, the other was mad beyond all reason. “After everything you’ve done to me and the world, you expect us to break bread!? What could you possibly offer that would have me not yearn to slit your throat?!”

"I wish to purge Eos and begin anew. This New Eos, will be free of darkness. All will be of foison and light. Thou has sacrificed much for this desolate world. I am prepared to bless thee with a gift. Perish among the flock, and be reborn anew in my universe. 2,000 years thy has been the Adagium. Thou will receive 2,000 years of sustenance and peace. Thou will never know pain, will never know sadness, will never meddle in the affairs of gods again. Thy will is strong. I know thou to be a man of vision. Hence why thou was chosen to be the vessel of the blight. The bloodline runs strong from it’s predecessor, myself. I who hath sown the seeds of Caelum before the sun cast its gaze upon Eos. Made in my image and honor they would be."

Ardyn’s jaw slightly hung agape. He felt his pulse thud deeply in his chest, radiating through his neck as he registered the weight of Bahamut’s plead, and the deeper truth the Astral alluded to. There had always been a familiarity the dragon king held that Ardyn couldn’t put a finger on. The eyes. The eyes were striking like that of most from the Lucis Caelum lineage. Like that of his brother. It clicked. The progenitor of his entire family, starting since the beginning of Eos, was none other than the god that condemned him numerous times to a hell he wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

Ardyn bit his bottom lip, his head bowing while he gripped Raksasha to self soothe. He didn’t want to know anymore than that.

"I wish to give thee another gift."

Ardyn forced his daemonic eyes to stare back into the shielded hues that reminded him so much of Somnus.

"I will give back what has been taken. Thy Oracle of the past, in exchange for present traveler at thou’s side. Equal and befitting. Thy Oracle be reborn anew with thou."

Something inside of Ardyn snapped. He was filled with an unquenchable rage at being offered something so barbaric. The faces of both Aera and Caelan arrived in his mind. There was no way Ardyn could do that, trade one soul for the other. Both people were of equal importance to him in different eras of his life. They were not pawns for his gains. They were his loved ones, his chosen family. Something this Astral would never live to comprehend.

Ardyn launched himself towards the Astral with the strength of twenty men. Rakshasa clashed with the Bahamut's primary sword. Soon both entities summoned their respective Royal Arms, and the phantom weapons which acted as extra limbs for their masters, clashed into an oblivion like no other while Ardyn and Bahamut were locked in combat. Metal grinding against metal. Blood for blood traded. They fought until it felt that centuries passed in seconds, and seconds passed in lifetimes. Everything began and would end here. Both of them knew this.

During the confrontation, Ardyn managed to break through some of the dragon’s defenses. There was an exposed piece in his breastplate, aimed straight for the heart. Every nerve, cell, and atom in Ardyn’s body compelled him to strike this spot with the scourge.

Bahamut cut into his right leg, throwing Ardyn off balance. Soon after, the other was incapacitated. Ardyn fell to his knees, and Bahamut’s eyes widened with victory as he rose his primary blade high into the air, and began it’s fall upon Ardyn’s neck. There was nothing the Adagium could do to stop it, for time was not on a mortals side in this place unlike the Astrals.

"This will end it!"

The edge of the blade met Ardyn’s neck, however it didn’t cut through his flesh, only grazed. A small river of blood fell down Ardyn’s scourge infested body. Bahamut began to quake. Quivering gasps the Astral while shock gave birth to primal fear. The likes of which Bahamut never had experienced during its entire existence among the stars. The dragon king forced himself to look down, seeing Ardyn’s left hand had pieced through the opening of his breast plate, and was inside of his form. The hunger of the starscourge began to radiate and pulse, slithering through the very structure of Bahamut’s being and enveloping him into a particle cloud of darkness.

“Whatever hell you arrive in, I want you to remember this...” Ardyn sneered, looking straight into Bahamut’s cold blue eyes while he witnessed the orbs roll into the back of the Astral’s skull. “Even gods die like men!”

Ardyn shut his own eyes, unleashing a bloodcurdling yell as the scourge pooled out of his body and straight into Bahamut’s like a virus. Every pain, rage, and sadness, Ardyn had kept bottled inside since his resurrection flooded the entirety of the draconian. Centuries of sacrifice and heartbreak left with the scourge as it zapped away what little life force Ardyn had left from the battle. Ardyn could feel Bahamut violently rip apart in agonizing seconds. The armor covering the Astral’s body rusted away into stardust while the body became a vanquished void that dispersed upon the scourge finishing up it’s meal. Then there was nothing. Nothing but Ardyn and the cosmos.

Ardyn, still on his knees, collapsed. He curled up into a ball, closing his eyes. It was finally over. He couldn’t believe it. It was finally done. He smiled which gave birth to laughter. Joy he hadn’t experienced in centuries radiated through the core of his soul.

The dragon king was vanquished permanently.

Everyone he had ever loved and cared for, was truly avenged.

This bloodline, at least this side, would end with him.

He was dying.

Yes, he could feel it. The quiet calm he had discussed at length with Caelan. The one he remembered after losing to Noctis. It seemed his time was at its end too.

"So soon?"

While catching his breath, Ardyn felt the cold chill of a familiar entity. He forced his eyes open, but felt too weak to hoist his head up. He stared at the feet of the Glacian, Shiva. Her skin pale as fresh snow. He couldn’t be bothered to stare up at her eyes nor take in the rest of her form.

“I thought…you were all in stasis.” Ardyn said weakly. The toll of purging the scourge from himself and into Bahamut was causing him to lose consciousness. He desperately tried to find the strength to keep himself awake, wanting answers for the sudden intrusion of another Astral. He prayed he didn’t have to fight another. There was no way he could hold his ground.

"We are still sleeping, and we dream of a time we may return to Eos. I’m merely a fragment of the whole who is Shiva, the Glacian."

“What tidings do you bring me?” Ardyn tiredly croaked out.

"Truth."

“Truth?” Ardyn repeated, his brows furrowed with confusion. His eyes remained shut but active. He quickly glanced underneath his eyelids, following the echoing sound of Shiva’s holy voice while she encircled around him. Her freezing touch followed suit.

"Three years ago your time, we Astrals sensed the stirrings of Bahamut’s rage rise through the stars. He was regenerating faster than any of us. 10,000 cold times must pass before we rise again amongst mortals. We collectively knew we wouldn’t be able to stop Bahamut from purging Eos into obliteration with Teraflare. Only the starscourge could ensure Bahamut would never again pose a threat to Eos or it’s children. The starscourge is a natural phenomenon of the cosmos. Just as humans are at the top of the food chain of Eos, we Astrals are part of one too. The scourge offers us the true death. Bahamut feared it so much, he wished to control it through his chosen when it arrived in this universe. It was his deepest wish, to weaponize the scourge for his own means under the guise of purifying Eos."

“The true bane of the gods.” Ardyn murmured, trying hard to keep up with the information he was being thrown.

"Yes. Bahamut feared it being used against him. Hence why he was cold to you and your kin after you were chosen. Much like your brother Somnus fooled the people of Lucis into believing magic could only come from the Lucis Caelum bloodline, Bahamut too fooled you into never tapping into the scourges full potential to turn against him. He broke you and many others until you had no will but to carry out fates cruel plan."

Ardyn let out a shallow breath. He had never felt so many mixed emotions before. They rivaled that of the ones he experienced earlier, learning Bahamut had given birth to his dynasty.

“So…was it you who brought me back from the land of the dead?”

"Yes. Myself and the others. Ifrit paid a higher sacrifice than all of us. Giving up what he had regenerated in five years to ensure your life force returned untainted. He will have to wait an additional 10,000 cold times before arriving with his brethren."

“Huh,” Ardyn shuddered, bundling up more. It certainly explained some of his traits. Of all of them, Ifrit was the last god Ardyn thought would help him in that manner considering their less than mutual past. A question beckoned him to refocus.

“Why did it have to be me?”

"We couldn’t descend from our slumber and take on Bahamut, so we awoke you from your sleep. We placed the darkness back inside of you, but free of thousands to lessen the pain. You had bore the curse of the scourge for centuries. There was no other human we could think of that would be strong enough to carry this heavy burden."

Ardyn tiredly forced himself to unravel, lying flat on his back while his hands stretched outward. Several deep breaths exited his body as sore muscles became numb and sensation a foreign concept. His eyes continued to dance behind his lids, caught between the realm of sleep and that of life.

“So, what happens now?” He muttered. He was so damned tired. Ardyn wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

"You will be given two choices."

“Choices?” He repeated quietly.

"Yes. You can live out the lifetime you were robbed of. Forge new paths, much like you have done while wandering Lucis before your fates arrival. Peace."

“And the other?” Ardyn heard the glacial chuckle. He shuddered, not knowing if it was sincere or out of malice.

"You may return to your eternal rest, and in dreams you will run against the particles of eons come and gone with your loved ones, and all who have or ever will be lost. You will forget the world in which you awoke. It will be as if it never was. Peace."

Ardyn could see it. The field of wheat and the tree in which Aera and he called their favorite spot in all of Lucis. He could smell the earth. Fresh petrichor permeating in the air. He saw the faces of not only Aera, but Somnus awaiting for him underneath the shade of the oaks mighty branches. He saw his parents. He saw friends whose names he had forgotten. His mentors. People from his era, smiling at him with the warmest of welcomes. He was seen and he was wanted. He was missed.

Ardyn was crying, his smile never ceasing to leave as Shiva crouched down at his side and her cold fingertips cupped either side of his face.

“I’ve decided.” Ardyn said happily.

Shiva nodded, pressing her lips to his forehead.

"You chose well, your grace. Farewell, Ardyn Lucis Caelum."

#immortal shield #ardyn lucis caelum #ffxv ardyn #ardyn izunia #ardyn #final fantasy xv #fanfic #this chapter has another name #the big yikes #i am prepared for questions and death threats

18 notes · View notes

offbranddrpepsi · 2 years

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ayo can i get some yoru and chamber jealous nsfw hcs/scenarios!!!💆🏻

You guys really like to fucking suffer don't you? Here we go, onto the freak shit! also bonus points to anyone who can dm me a good fucking Yoru gif to crop for these so i can stop using a static image. Also i apologize if they are short, i didn't want to have to do two parts and have tumblr yell at me for the character limit so if you want a full HC list or longer scenarios for either feel free to shoot me another ask or two.

Yoru is the type of jealous that gets incredibly upset easily, he's a possessive lover (for good reason given fade's dossier on him struggling to keep loved ones around) so its not surprising when he gets a bit...hostile after someone flirts at you a bit too much It happened over time, building but eventually bursting. Ryo didn't voice his displeasure with how close you were to your ex, if it was out of respect or anger was up in the air but you very quickly learned just how much he was holding back one evening. The two of you kept your relationship on the down low due to Valorant's strict rules as well as not wanting the other to be targeted. Few knew you were dating and no one in your public life were the wiser, assuming the man was your roommate you had picked up some where. It's because of this your ex had felt so comfortable flirting with you in the open, obviously trying to win you back despite you turning him down again and again. All it took was one off hand crude comment to set your boyfriend off into a rage. "Come on, we could go back to your place and hook up like we used to. I'm sure your roommate wont mind how loud you are." Your rift walking partner snapped his head up at that, placing himself protectively between the two of you. Your ex seemed to feel the anger radiating off of the other man and booked it out of the bar you all were in. Ryo dragged you home not long after, absolutely fuming and popping off about how much of a prick that guy was. You weren't surprised when his mouth aggressively found yours, pinning you to a wall. What you didn't know was that your ex actually lived in the apartment next to your own, however Ryo had known that for a while now. The apartments were mirror images of each other meaning your bedroom shared the same wall as his, giving your boyfriend the perfect option at revenge. You were kept up late the night as Ryo fucked you hard and relentlessly. You tried your best to keep quiet but your partner knew exactly what to do to push your buttons, bringing crashing orgasm after orgasm as he went into the early hours of the morning. The next time you saw your ex he awkwardly apologized for his behavior much to your shock all the while Ryo was smirking behind you, incredibly proud that he proved exactly who you belonged to. You were covered in hickies and marks for days after which you did not mind at all.

Chamber handles jealously with poise and elegance. He is confident to no end that he is the best partner you could have, the best person for you. But even a man full of confidence needs something to resolve his jealously and that is what has brought you here. It was just some meeting with other Kingdom officials that you were dragged along for due to convenience, not really having any interest in the business Vincent did outside of Valorant. An older man, much older than both you and your partner, had started chatting you up. All was well, Vincent even leaving to go speak to a coworker while you chatted. The older man quickly changed to much more...non HR compliant comments while you waited for the return of your boyfriend. By the time Vincent had returned the man was practically trying to drag you off to some vacant meeting room, causing the younger man to interject himself much more aggressively than he normally did. "Oh what was it you wanted my partner for?" The question sounded kind but you knew that tone of voice, it was laced with venom and a silent threat. "Mr. Fabron oh i must apologize, i thought they were an intern and was um offering to show them around." The older man was sheepish as your partner placed an arm around your waist, excusing the two of you for the night. "I'm going to kill that man later," your partner said nonchalantly as you two entered the hotel you were sharing for the time. "Men like him simply do not deserve to breath." This behavior wasn't really surprising, he held being a gentleman above most things so of course it irritated him when others stooped so low. As you and Vincent undressed a pair of arms found your waist, pulling you into a toned chest. "Now, will you indulge me tonight? Allow me to reinforce to you what a real man is like?" With a simple nod the back of your neck was showered in kisses, mumbled words lost against your skin as you were made dizzy by the affection. Well versed hands found their places and guided you to bed. The sex was utterly passionate as you had expected, Vincent worshipping your body and rewarding you with endless praise as he worked you ragged. This seemingly little act helped the man reassure to himself that he was the only one that could make you feel this way, the only one allowed to make you this way. As the night dragged on you were exhausted, Vincent settling himself inside you as the two of you dozed off.

#chamber x reader #valorant x reader #valorant #chamber valorant #yoru x reader #yoru valorant #naughty

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shadowsif · 2 years

Note

What are your favourite ifs/WiPs?

So this got out of hand. And then my internet crashed and my Tumblr crashed and I had to rewrite this all… I might have missed something and I could rec more, but I need to keep this readable length.

The first one I ever read: Zombie Exodus: Safe Heaven. This was before I followed any creators on the forums/Tumblr. Liked it and played multiple times the first few chapters but I have not kept up with it. Of the published I’ve read or started a lot of them but nowadays WIPs are flying high above most of them in terms of quality. My taste has also evolved, you could say.

The big, long, angsty ones:

A Mage Reborn by @mage-parivir

Long, good story in high fantasy world with anime influenced vibes. Good RO choices and other NPCs. Some stat balancing and actually reading stuff to get the results I wanted required, which is why I needed to start it a few times before I got over my hang-ups and got really into it.

Shepherds of Haven by @shepherds-of-haven

Epic high fantasy story in a deep and thoroughly thought-out world. LOTS of Ros (Trouble is my <3) and NPCs. Also involves keeping track of your stats and thinking before choices. Long one. I mean, really long. In tone, to me, a bit darker than A Mage Reborn even with the BBQ. I have at times wondered how well this could turn into an video game.

I, the Forgotten one by Bacondoneright (the work is on Dashingdon but has no Tumblr)

No magic but an eastern European inspired world. This might not be for everyone as it deals heavily with wartimes in ‘realistic’ medieval world. Involving homophobia, misogyny and lots of death and adult themes. I played a male MC to skip some of that. Lots of stat balancing and following, hard choices and angst. So much angst. You will have to be in a certain mood and have hours of time to read through it but if this sounds something that you’d like to try I encourage it. The writing and plot are really good and the overall quality is better than most. But it’s a hard read.

Mind Blind by @mindblindbard

Modern superhero world where you play a nobody in a family of somebodies. Good mystery, lots of angst and awesome ROs and NPCs. (Grayson has my <3) Not so stat heavy than the others. To my knowledge is close to being finished and I can’t wait to throw money at it.

The Exile by @exilethegame

All the angst. Oh my god the angst. A fantasy world with ‘monster hybrid’ people and you’re exiled and suffering and nothing is going to be good again. The last update left me infuriated. If it would be badly written I could stop reading it and be happy again but no. Have to keep going back. 10/10 would recommend.

The Northern Passage by @northern-passage

Even if I’ve never played or watched the show this has Witcher vibes. I’m sure I will die or kill someone accidentally or something else horrible. Lea is what keeps me going back. The asshole. Love it.

The shorter, angsty ones:

Ouroboros by @honeypeabrain

Plants. Lots of plants in a fantasy, slightly apocalyptic world. The world is really intriguing and the plot pulled me in at the start. Loved especially the option to customize one of the possible Ros. Can’t wait for where the story goes and the RO routes that have been teased. (I have not made up my minds who I like the most)

Ripper’s Plague by @ripperplague

One I have recommended before. Steampunk world where you are a ‘mad’ doctor with past full of trauma. The humour is fun and the story is turning up to be intriguing, even though not all the major players have been introduced yet. Love the way everyone just casually hits on the MC. It’s hilarious.

The not so angsty ones:

College Tennis: Origin Story by @allieebobo

Play tennis, go to college, annoy, and charm everyone while succeeding at everything. Or that’s how I play it. Gets really into the actual games and tennis but everything is written by a person who clearly knows what they are doing so it’s all good. Recommend it even if you’re not into tennis. Living like a jock is fun.

Anything written by @leftski-if

Lots of monster romances (werewolves, vampires, orcs etc.) Light hearted stories in more serious worlds. For more mature readers, not because of NSFW but of tone that’s written with more mature readers in mind. (at least to me) You want a good, hard hug from a RO that’s three times your size? These have it.

The adventures of Sherlock Holmes- An affair of the heart by @doriana-gray-games

It’s Sherlock Holmes but make it actually gay (if you want to). The writing equals the originals by sucking the reader in. There’s murders and mysteries and maybe the tone is not especially light but to me Sherlock Holmes and the stories are comfort read and so is this. Can’t wait to meet H of the ROs, but in the mean time Lestrade is and awkward duck who gives me sandwiches.

Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian by @defiledheartsblog

Look. Listen. Does the story start with your family being murdered and you being sneaky and enlisting to the Roman army? Yes. Do I still consider this more light-hearted one because I’m having too much fun being pain in Marcus’ backside? Yes. I really need to restart another save and be less confrontational and before I get myself murdered at some point when I’m caught. The writer knows a lot of Roman times, and the Picts while taking liberties to introduce inclusivity and fantasy elements.

Ifs with really short demo so I haven’t really got into them yet because of that but the premise sounds awesome:

Absentia by @absentia-if

Having been ten years stuck in a void and then coming back without time passing for you. What could go wrong?

Sinners and Saints by @sinnersandsaints-linwrites

Hah! I’m in danger!

Novaturient by @kalorphic

Smexy agents doing secret agents things. Gimme.

Shoutouts to things I have read but weren’t for me at the time:

Citadel- A medical Romantic Drama by @bouncyballcitadel

Writing and medical knowledge top notch. Unfortunately, I’m still recovering from the last semester and couldn’t focus enough to read with thought and failed at everything. Which caused me to quit, start again next day from the start and then rinse and repeat. Will have to try again at some point when I have more spoons.

Blood Moon by @barbwritesstuff

Modern werewolf story. Awesome writing and lovable characters. Is to my knowledge finished if you don’t count editing, rewrites etc. Have played it about but not the last few updates. Another one I’ll try again when I find my spoons somewhere.

There are lots more that I follow or read but these came to mind. I also acknowledge that I have a problem with remembering names and have a bad habit of skipping paragraphs while reading, so I tend to forget especially shorter ones. I have not included ones without demos because I have gotten my heart broken a few times when the creators disappeared after posting awesome premises but no demos.

This got really long… Hope this was informative?

#recs #all the recs #im sorry this is so long #ask anon #anon ask #ask answered

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littleaxebad · 2 years

Text

A Perfect Love

After a few weeks, I have finally finished my Jalim Vampire AU. Since it is too long for Tumblr, you can instead find it on my A03 Account.

There is a lot of pain, and decadence, and my favourite descriptive, flowery writing style. There is also a f<<ked up s3x scene at the end, after all of the superfluous beauty.

The beginning is under the cut, to tempt you.

Jason did not think he was a violent man. He wanted what most men wanted: power, respect, peace. To rule his people without challenge. To provide for those same people so they would never want for more. His death and rebirth had not altered his personality, had not made him the bloodthirsty tyrant his neighbouring kingdoms claimed him to be. One by one they had waged war on the undead king and one by one they had been felled - replacing Jason’s fallen soldiers with their own bodies. But time was not kind, and these kingdoms dwindled and faded; people suffered and died. Famine and plague would touch the mortal breath and draw it out, like a doctor drawing blood from a wound. The land diminished and Jason was left to look out from his castle over an oceanic forrest to the distant lights of the Capitol. The last human civilisation to stand against the mountain of time. An army thousands strong, farmlands that stretched to the sea. Cathedrals where Jason’s captured subjects were trialled and burned before God. The skeleton of a glorious kingdom lay behind Jason - feeble waves crashing against a mighty ship, desperate to live in a world where waves were not wanted. They had withdrawn to live on beasts, withdrawn to live in the dark, withdrawn to where it should have been safe. And still soldiers from the Capitol came for them, with fire and silver arrows. With woven nets and pikes. And Jason could no longer stem the tide of immortal fear. Centuries he had lived, making peace with the punishment of his nightmares, and never had he been bent or broken. But on the horizon the sun of change was rising, and if he could not shelter his people, he was doomed to watch them blaze.

The Prince of the Capitol would soon come of age and be crowned its new king, and the old king would step aside. And what better shield against a son than his own father. As Jason stood on the parapet of his castle’s wall and looked deep into the fireflies of the distant city, he thought with the best intentions: I will capture the king, and I will make him a vampire like me.

Jason could not look at himself in reflective glass. He’d had masks made in his image to remind him of his own face - high cheekbones and deep brown eyes of royal lineage. Hair that refused to be tamed except by the thickest of oils. Lips that sneered more easily than they smiled. Age and decay had not touched him, time had not rendered him weak or weary. Sleep came to him in a warm and rolling embrace with the arrival of the sun each day, and each night he awoke as if he has simply blinked the time away. He wore lavish clothes from a bygone era, had no interest in fashions favoured by humans. Dark blues and jewel greens, deepest blacks with gold or silver trim, sweeping cloaks and fur lined cuffs. Polished leather boots to his thighs with velvet leggings or embroidered breeches. Jason’s string of temporary lovers had always seemed fascinated by the way he presented himself, yet set no precedence for the fashion of his court. He’d never assumed it was his business to interfere in the way others chose to present themselves. How could a subject feel safe when they couldn’t even chose what they wore?

Jason kept small close contact - only a few vampires that aided in the ruling of his kingdom. A private and withdrawn trio from the first kingdom he conquered: Lord Eric and Lady Rachel, and their companion Nicholas. A trade ship had bought him a man named Merwin, well versed in matters of money but with a less than savoury tongue. The youngest prince from a toppled Estate by the sea, José was a talented linguist and academic. And wandering witch and alchemist Clarice, an outspoken and headstrong young woman, was the most recent addition, some three hundred years ago. These few he trusted above all others, these few he allowed private knowledge of his plans. And these few he left in charge when he travelled out one night to attend the Capitol’s Masquerade.

A pity Jason could not see into the future, for the best laid plans of all good men are so often doomed to fail…

***

[I promise it ends happily..

The title and indeed the story were inspired by Paul Williams, and you can listen to A Perfect Love on YT (as well as Gone Forever and I Never Had it So Good), but some of the inspiration also came from Good While it Lasted by Ashnikko, and Waiting on a Miracle from the Encanto soundtrack.]

#jalim #salim othman #Jason kolchek #Jason x salim #salim x jason #vampire AU #vampire!jason #house of ashes #house of ashes au #the dark pictures house of ashes #the dark pictures anthology #supermassive games #fanfiction

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the-sympathetic-villain · 3 years

Text

Lullaby of Woe

AO3

Angst Prompt - "Of all the times to tell me, why now?" - Any pairing From @crazydemigod666 on Tumblr

@crazydemigod666 Psst you sent this ask to my main but I don’t really post my writing there, so I’m posting it here. Hope you don’t mind ;) Also, though very different in tone, this actually reminded me of your own Jolly Sailor Bold as I was writing it in a lot of ways lol so I hope you enjoy!

---

Description: Feeling unwanted, Patton climbs up to the deck of their ship to get some fresh air when the voice of a siren comes calling.

Also, there's a song in this one. I modified the lyrics, but the song is "Lullaby of Woe" - Ashley Serena and you can listen to it here if you'd like.

Word Count: 2104

Pairings: Logicality

Characters: Patton, Logan

Warnings: Major Character Death (Ambiguous, honestly its entirely up to how you interpret it), Angst with an ambiguous ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of neglect, Mentions of cheating, Past toxic relationship, Mentions of food insecurity, Touch starvation, Hypnosis-like trance, Brief Suicidal ideation, Crying, (Let me know if I need to add anything!)

---

Patton had a problem.

The crew hadn't been able to look him in the eye for over a fortnight, even though he could feel the pity in his stares as he milled about the deck without purpose. At any other point in his life, he would have been deeply ashamed, but he was nearly too tired to care now. The captain had notified him that his rations had been cut. He'd been told it was a temporary measure, but Patton knew better. The captain was starving him off the ship.

The wind nipped at his arms as Patton nimbly topped the ladder to the upper deck. Moonlight pooled on the polished wood, lighting his way as he strode through the darkness. He moved confidently, though he felt himself nearly stumbling and losing his footing with the sharp rocking of the ship. The weakness was getting to him. He knew he shouldn’t be up in the open air as the boat rocked in the wind. One swift wind could blow him overboard and he'd be gone forever, but he couldn’t bear another minute of listening to the crew's whispers.

His heart was broken enough already. He'd thought the captain loved him. When they met, Patton’s body and soul had felt like fire. In a flurry of passion, Patton had dropped his comfortable life to follow the man he'd loved across the sea and it had been the thrilling journey of his life. Flowing from adventure to adventure, the pure excitement and adrenaline had lit up his world and blinded him to the fire that had begun to eat him up inside.

Only now, as Patton staggered to the bow of ship, did he realize how much he'd withered away to make way for the man who claimer to love him. Mere embers of the previous flame remained in Patton’s heart as the captain drifted into the arms of new lovers, his loyalty already fickle and fading before Patton was even gone.

Patton sucked in a sob as he lurched forward, nearly tumbling over the ship's railing as a sudden wave jarred the ship. His white knuckles gripped the wood on instinct as he sunk to his knees. A soundless cry escaped him as he collapsed to the floor and tears flowed freely down his face in silent grief.

The pain in his chest was nearly unbearable as Patton lost himself staring into the black water of the sea below, mesmerized by the swirling vortexes as he desperately pushed away darker thoughts. He had no idea how long he sat there, silently sobbing as the moon moved across the sky, but it seemed like only moments before an unnerving melody floated through the air.

Fishes asleep among the weeds,

Patton’s head shot up at the sound the unfamiliar voice echoing eerily across the open deck. His knees curled to his chest as his eyes darted through the darkness, searching for the source of the voice.

Waves all a swaying in the breeze,

“Who’s there?”

Patton shivered as he raised his head to get a better view of the deck below. Unable to spot anyone, he cautiously reached up to the railing to pull himself upright and listen to the voice continue.

But one soul lies anxious, wide awake,

Fearing no manner of ghouls nor wraiths.

Patton jumped, spinning on his toes as the last line finished directly behind his ear. His shoulders spun clumsily as he stumbled away from the bow of the ship, landing on the ground with a thud as he turned to stare at the beast balancing on the bowsprit of the ship.

The creature stood on two feet and Patton could nearly have mistaken him for a man a man, if not for the pallid color of his skin and haunting blue glow of his eyes. The specter glided forward with an unearthly grace, balancing on the narrow bow of the ship as it rocked chaotically in the wind.

“Do not scream.” The man purred as he dropped silently on the deck. “Lest you condemn the rest of your friends to share your fate.”

A grimace curled on Patton’s lips at the statement and he resigned himself to quietly edging closer the railing behind him.

“Oh, not friends then.”

The beast cooed under his breath as he leaned forward to loom over Patton. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as the creature slowly kneeled in front of him and raised a hand to his face. Patton flinched as cold fingers brushed along his jaw and guided his chin up until he was staring into the ice-cold eyes of the man above him.

“Relax.”

Patton felt the tension in his body disappear as the dulcet tones of the man's voice lulled him into complacency. His vision blurred as he tried to stay focused on the man’s face, but as he was pulled to his feet, only one thought rang out in his mind.

He's…pretty.

The beast's calming voice continued to fill the air with a lilting melody as he smiled crowded Patton against the railing.

Don’t dare let him tremble,

For the witcher, heartless and cold,

Paid in coin of gold,

He comes and goes and he'll leave not behind,

Subtle chills tingled across Patton’s skin at the man's power. He knew fear should be gripping his heart, but he couldn’t help but his starstruck smile as the man lips curled into a sharp-toothed grin.

but heartache and woe,

Deep, deep woe.

Patton’s breath caught in his throat as his waist caught the railing. His balance wavered as the momentum nearly sent him tumbling into the dark water below, but an iron grip caught his collar.

Deep, deep woe.

The man’s deep voice resonated against Patton’s chest and he finished its last note, drawing Patton’s attention back to his mesmerizing eyes.

“Are you afraid?”

Patton sucked on his lip as he stared into the icy look of the man’s eyes. His heart slowed as the air shifted blinked his shock up at the man in front of him.

“Please, I'll do anythi—”

“Young one, be at peace. Fearing me is a waste of your energy.”

A raspy breath escaped Patton’s parted lips as the beast's hand passed over his jaw to curl around the back of his neck. Instinctively, he started to flinch away, but the monster caught him.

“Why do you allow yourself to wither, human?”

Patton sucked on his lip as his skin tingled like wildfire from the man’s icy touch. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but it'd been a long time since he'd been touched with such gentleness. The sense of danger radiating off the man in front of him should have made him quiver with fear, but instead he felt himself leaning into the unfamiliar comfort with a quiet sob.

“Hush now. You no longer need to suffer.”

Scaled fingers slipped through Patton’s hair as the pale beast comforted him. The walls which he’d built around his heart came crashing down and his feelings escaped him in a subdued mourning.

“That’s all you really wanted. Isn’t it? To be needed?”

Patton’s grip tightened on the man's flowing silk shirt as a soft whisper escaped him. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“I've been watching you since your ship left the port nearly a full moon ago. The effort you extend to for the benefit of the others aboard this vessel is nothing less than commendable.” The beast’s breath passed through Patton’s hair like a soft wind as his fingertips brushed Patton’s cheek. “You are not simply a weight to the man who scorns your love.”

The man’s soothing voice resonated from his chest as Patton timidly tipped his head up to him.

“W-who are you?”

“My name is of no consequence,” The man’s whispered, though he seemed to immediately correct himself as he noted Patton’s disappointment. “Though you may call me Logan, if your heart desires.”

“Logan—” Patton breathed as he lifted his head. “—you've been watching me?”

“With deep interest, my dearest. You are too delectable to be wasted on someone who does not appreciate you.” Logan’s sharp-toothed grin grew wider as his thumb brushed Patton’s cheek. “Your scent is absolutely dizzying.”

“T-that can't be true.”

“Oh?” The siren's pale fingers trailed down Patton’s jaw, letting out a melodic chuckle as Patton sighed at the touch. “And why is that, my lovely?”

Patton’s face twisted in disgust and he started to pull away. “I'm—I'm not—”

Logan’s hands caught Patton’s waist, eliciting a gasp as he effortlessly lifted Patton and placed him on the railing of the rocking ship. He moved forward, standing between Patton’s legs as his piercing, blue eyes locked onto Patton.

“Not what, darling?”

“N-not special.” Patton whispered quietly, suddenly entranced by the mesmerizing glimmer in Logan’s eyes.

“It truly is a crime that any man was able to convince you of that.”

Patton blinked in disbelief as the siren curled a finger under his chin, lifting his gaze. “What?”

“Your soul leaves a sweet scent in the air that only a fool would neglect to savor.” Logan whispered, sending pleasant chills down Patton’s spine as his other hand slipped around Patton’s waist. “My dearest, you are a gift to this world that has kept my eye for thrice the time it's taken for the dark moon to turn bright in the sky.”

“If—If you've been watching me—” Patton started after a moment of silence, shaking as he reached up to grip Logan’s wrist. “Then, of all times to tell me, why now?”

The siren was silent as his piercing eyes bore into Patton, sending a heated wave of adrenaline through him as another wave crashed against the side of the ship. Logan’s grip tightened on Patton’s waist as sea's mist filled the air.

“I think you know why I have approached you.”

“Y-you're a siren.” Patton whispered as he nervously clung to the railing.

“Come away with me, darling.”

“They—” Patton swallowed the lump in his throat as he turned his head away from the dangerous look in Logan’s eyes. “The sailors say that those who are taken away by sirens are never heard from again.”

Logan remained quiet for a moment before raising a hand to wipe the tears from Patton’s cheek. “You will not be missed by the men on this ship.”

Patton sucked in a breath as though he'd been struck in the stomach. “I—I know, but—”

“Hush, now. Do not be afraid.” Logan whispered as tears brimmed in Patton’s eyes. “Do you have loved ones on the land?”

“No,” Patton breathed as an emptiness filled his chest. “I am alone.”

“Then what do you live for, dearest?”

Patton started to shake as tears streamed down his face. “I—I don’t know anymore.”

“Then tell me, my love.” Logan whispered as he curled a finger around Patton’s chin to lift his head up. “What risk is there in leaving with me?”

“I'm not ready to die."

Logan's sharp teeth glistened in the moonlight as he leaned into Patton’s ear. “Who said anything about dying?”

Patton blinked, still in disbelief as he sputtered out a response. “Are you going to hurt me?”

“Will you take the risk to find out?”

Patton sucked in a breath as he stared into Logan’s blue eyes. His heart pounded in his chest as he balanced on the railing of the ship, teetering above the dark waters above.

“O-okay.”

Logan leaned in closer with a knowing grin. “You have to tell me what you want, love.”

“Take me away, p-please.”

Logan's unearthly grin widened as Patton curled into his chest. “As you wish, darling.”

A hum started deep in Logan's chest, soothing Patton’s uneven breathing as he continued his song.

The waves are silent for the night,

All matter turned in as daylight dies,

But one soul lies anxious wide awake,

My dear darling Patton, shut your eyes,

Lie still, lie silent, utter no cries.

The world around Patton seemed became blurry as the siren’s song lulled him into a deep trance. His skin tingled with a pleasant vibration as the soft sound of Logan’s voice filled his ears. Deep in a stupor, he barely noticed as they dropped into the dark waters below. The moonlight faded as they disappeared beneath the surface, but Logan’s voice still echoed beautifully in his mind.

Beware of the man who covets your soul,

He'll chop you and slice you,

Cut and he'll dice you,

Eat you up whole,

Eat you whole,

All while he sings to you,

he lullaby of deep, deep woe.

---

General Taglist:

@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck @shadowyplaidpurseegg

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts patton #ts logan #logicality #siren!logan #human!patton #tw abuse #sailor au #siren au #Lullaby of Woe #villain writes

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elreyconducto · 3 years

Note

conduit crew head canons pre second son !

(Thanks tumblr for not notifying me. Sorry for the lateness!)

Okay, pre-Second Son headcanons! I’ve actually talked about this with someone before, but this was yeeeeears ago, and I’m pretty sure I forgot most of it, lol

Eugene

Our favorite angel kept to himself a lot. His mother was always busy, he rarely saw her. Because of this, he was taken care of pretty much by a dedicated babysitter that soon became one of the few people he really trusted and looked up to in his life. She never looked bored when he told her about his interests and never made fun of him when things made him anxious or scared. She taught him all sorts of hobbies that he had never really been exposed to before: sewing, crocheting, origami, and baking. Although the first two didn’t necessarily stick, origami was something he thought was neat and baking is really what he took to heart. He loved being able to make all sorts of sweets and breads! Cooking, on the other hand, was just not something he had been good at during his childhood and early teen years.

Could he make a mean cake? Oh, most certainly. Could he be trusted to not to burn his mac n cheese? 50% of the time, no.

His babysitter knew about the bullying at school, and she did her best to help. He had bad social anxiety and general anxiety, so she helped him understand what he had (she had a history of it herself) and did more research to look for ways to manage it that best fit him. She always made sure she checked him over for any injuries when he came home looking like a wilted plant, lent an ear when he needed to rant or vent about his day, or be there ready with tissues or a throw blanket when he needs a good cry. Because she’s not his mother, most of the board at school wouldn’t listen to her when she brought up the bullying, and when she talked about it with Eugene’s mother, the woman brushed it off, saying that her son needed to grow up and learn to stand up for himself.

When his powers emerged after a particularly bad day of bullying at his school, she worried when she didn’t see him after school. Fretted even more when she didn’t get a text or call from him saying that he was going to be late. She decided to wait just a little longer and turned on the TV to calm her nerves. Unfortunately, that did the exact opposite when she saw Eugene’s face plastered all over the news with his school in the picture and the D.U.P. surrounding the place.

Bioterrorist Captured at Local High School made her want to vomit, cry, and run out the door. She did the latter of the three with the second quickly encroaching as she shook when she flew to her car. The drive to the school was fruitless and the million calls she sent to his mother weren’t any better.

She sobbed in her car when she finally parked at home. She never heard from Eugene again. (Not until several years later when he was older and standing next to the two resident Conduits who, through the efforts of all three of them, saved Seattle. He was still awkward as ever, but that’s Eugene, she knew.)

Fetch

Fetch’s powers very directly changed her life from a young age. Her family used to be fairly close-knit: her mom helped her with crafts when she got off of work, her dad took her and her brother to music events whenever they popped up in town, and her big brother Brent was the best person ever. When she got a little older, her parents got busier with work. Although they were not neglectful like Eugene’s mom, it was rarer to spend time with them than not. It was during that time, around when she was eleven, that Brent stepped in more to take care of her.

Her powers emerged one day after school. By the time she ran home, she immediately went to Brent, scared out of her mind. Hot, colorful neon wouldn’t dissipate from her hands and she didn’t know what to do and what if they were going to take her away?? She had a history of panic attacks and she was having one right there. Brent knew what to do, and even though he was immensely surprised at her new powers, that was his sister and she needed help. It took over an hour to get her to calm down, but the pink and purple neon eventually faded away. After making sure everything was okay and ordering comfort pizza, they spent the rest of the night talking about her powers—the colors, how it made her feel, trying out what she could do with it.

For a week, it was their secret only between them. After a week of mulling over whether to tell their parents, they decided to tell them on Friday after school when they would be home for a change. Their parents loved them. Surely they would be okay with her powers, right?

Suffice to say, things didn’t go according to plan. Friday was terrible. It met Fetch with four stressful tests, two projects, and girls who would just not leave her alone. As the last bell rang and she wanted to hurry out of the building, feeling her anxiety build, a group of girls cornered her, bullying her. Stress and more anxiety built up and unfortunately, she couldn’t keep her power in. She accidentally hurt one of her classmates.

Her parents found out and called the D.U.P. even after Brent begging them not to. When the D.U.P. came to take her away, Brent had already ran off with Fetch. And as per First Light, they spend five years on the run until his death.

Delsin

(I think a lot about Delsin pre-Second Son. I’ve written about his parents before as well.) Delsin was raised by his mother, Ayasha, and his father, Malcolm, and of course, Betty and the rest of the tribe. Delsin was a relatively happy child, if a little bit all over the place. His mother was an artist and art teacher at one of the local schools and his dad was the sheriff (way before Reggie) and a baseball coach. While Reggie takes after his dad a lot—appearance wise and love of baseball—Delsin takes a lot after his mom. Ayasha was Delsin’s first introduction and biggest influence to art. He loved sitting in the room she used as her studio watching her paint and draw and eventually learning from her.

Of the three Conduits, Delsin most likely had the closest relationship to his parents compared to Fetch and Eugene. They were beyond patient with him as they worked with him when he got diagnosed with mild ADHD, and always supported his interests no matter how messy they got.

After they died, Reggie and Delsin were…not alright, to say the least. Reggie, a little older, was able to take it a little better, but being left to take care of his little brother mostly by himself (even though Betty and the tribe did help) made him so stressed and scared. Delsin, being younger, wasn’t able to processes it as easy. His mourning turned into a long depression, affecting several facets of his life. Although his grades were in the B – C range, he was struggling heavily in school as his grades dropped. He couldn’t focus. Looking at his mom’s studio and art supplies 9/10 times made him cry. He didn’t talk much anymore. His art suffered. Eventually, he could navigate being nonverbal for a while by drawing out what he was feeling, but even that took a long time.

Once he began to heal after a few years’ time, he was able to talk more and more. He was in a better place mentally and started to pick his art back up in a more serious fashion. He had a lot of feelings and a lot of time on his hands. That, coupled with research into new art inspirations, led him to street art. Non-authoritarian street art, specifically. His later teen years were rich with this, much to Reggie’s chagrin and dislike.

Throughout his life, he managed several long periods of depression. Talking with Reggie and a therapist, he realized that was going to be something he would be dealing with for the rest of his life. It made him feel a lot of emotions, but he was never judged over it. Not from Reggie, not ever.

He lived a mostly normal life as the resident delinquent artist up until the D.U.P. transport truck crashed on Akomish land.

#my headcanons #eugene sims #abigail fetch walker #delsin rowe #abigail walker #fetch walker #fetch #infamous #infamous second son #conduits #my fics

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yongtxt · 4 years

Text

turn back time [taeyong]

word count: 6.2k words

characters: amnesiac!taeyong x girlfriend!reader ft. doyoung

genre: angst [meant to be just melancholic so no crying !]

warnings: few mentions of a car crash and some wounds. taeyong suffers from amnesia. it’s a couple trying to learn how to love again.

author’s note: yesterday was my first year anniversary here on tumblr and i give you a short angst fic of the first nct member i wrote for as a present. anyway. i need a break from angst after this also i need to stop writing people getting hurt/wounded???? [stream turn back time by wayv later <3] / unedited

Taeyong awoke to harsh fluorescent lighting filling his vision, a throat so dry it could compare to a desert, and the muffled cries of his lover.

His arms ached, muscles extremely sore that it hurt him to even lift his limb. He wanted to reach out to you, to run his fingers through your hair, and to tell you that everything was gonna be okay—he would work it out with you, together.

You had Taeyong’s hospital gown clutched in your hands, soaking the fabric with your weeping. WIth your face buried into his blanket, it took you a second to realize that your boyfriend had already woken up from his deep slumber. Your cheeks flushed at his intense gaze, dropping your hold on him almost immediately as if it was hot to touch.

“You’re awake!” You exclaimed, voice cracking. Fumbling to wipe your tears, you scrambled to your feet. “Let me grab some food, okay? You must be hungry.”

Taeyong did his best to shake his head, “No, you don’t have to. Please just stay beside me.”

A beat passed and you could only stare at him. The hesitance you exuded didn’t pass unnoticed, you sat back on the stool beside him and stayed tight-lipped. Taeyong sighed through his nose, a bubble of nervousness growing in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, his attention darting everywhere but to you.

“How are you feeling? Do you think you can move better now?” You asked, soft and wary—afraid of what his response would be and he didn’t like the sound of it not one bit, but he didn’t let it show.

“I can move my head better than yesterday.” Taeyong pointed out, craning his neck enough to prove it to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your face and his chest floods with an unfamiliar warmth. He added, “My joints just hurt since I’m kept on bed rest all day.”

“Well, you’re getting released tomorrow.” You said, subconsciously outstretching your hand to brush off the fallen lock of his hair from his forehead. He blushed at the contact of your fingertips and you immediately retracted it back. “Uh, your doctor wanted me to tell you that you should start walking around again if you can to avoid using crutches.”

“I’ll try to go for a walk tonight.” He nodded his head, staring at his lap as if it was the most fascinating thing in the room. “Can you help me drink some water?”

“I’m sorry, of course.” Your cheeks reddened the same way his were, fumbling to punch in a straw inside a bottle of water as you propped it up for him to sip on. Of course he was thirsty, he had been asleep for almost half the day.

Your fingers were trembling, he noticed. Before he could point it out, the door slammed open and you were forced to draw away his drink. You haven’t been told of anyone visiting so it came as a surprise to see your boyfriend’s childhood best friend panting in the doorway, holding himself up on the frame while he gawked at Taeyong’s wounded form.

Bruises of varying sizes littered across Taeyong’s pale skin and a bandage was wrapped around his forehead, his bleached hair peeking out from the bloodied cloth. A large gash can be seen trailing along his jawline and although it had been healing nicely, a mark remained. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken from fatigue and a lack of nutritional intake, much like you.

He didn’t look well, Doyoung thought with a pitiful gaze Taeyong was already too familiar with.

“Aren’t you gonna come in?” Taeyong chuckled, grinning at Doyoung who frowned at him. He rushed to his side and mindlessly took him into an embrace, cradling his bandaged head into his shoulder. You felt hot tears pool into the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away before they could see.

He berated him, the way he always would when Taeyong got himself into trouble that could’ve been easily avoided if he would just think straight. The blizzard, Doyoung kept bringing it up, he shouldn’t have driven when the weather was too dangerous.

“I’ll try to remember that next time.” Taeyong said, reassuring him before Doyoung could burst into tears. He wouldn’t know how to handle him if he got too emotional, he doubted you’d be able to.

“Why were you driving, anyway? What was so important that you had to risk your life to travel?” Doyoung huffed and you rose from your seat from instinct, about to insert yourself into their conversation when Taeyong grasped your fingers.

You stared at him and you were suddenly reminded that he must’ve put himself in pain to stop you. You sat back down and he smiled, he wanted to say it himself and you could only respect his wishes. You hadn’t been able to inform Taeyong’s friends about his car crash as it had been only a week since it happened, all of your time was spent tirelessly tending him back to health. You didn’t have the time to share the unfortunate news.

“Apparently, I was on my way back to Seoul from visiting my family.” Taeyong said, gently grazing your skin away from his best friend’s sight. At Doyoung's confused knot on his forehead, he continued, “My mom told me that they couldn’t make me stay because it was the night of my anniversary with my girlfriend.”

“Taeyong, why are you talking like that—”

“The doctor said I hit my head on the steering wheel pretty badly.” Taeyong laughed mirthlessly, and you subconsciously squeezed his hand. “Bad enough that my memory got a bit fuzzy. Retrograde amnesia, I think that’s what they called it.”

Doyoung blinked, lips gaped at Taeyong who only smiled at him. He looked up at you, a sudden onslaught of anxiety coursing through him that you could just see him almost shake in worry. He whispered to you, “Amnesia? How far back can he remember?”

You bit your lip, turning away and loosening the grip you had on Taeyong’s hand, but he held it tighter with a strength you were sure he was only forcing. You said, “The beginning of third year in college.”

“What?!” Doyoung choked on his spit, leaping from his seat in shock. You offered him an unopened bottle of water but he shook his head. “You’re already a working man, Taeyong! We graduated two years ago, man!”

You did your best to calm Doyoung down, much to Taeyong’s appreciation. You knew where his emotions were coming from so you had to explain why it happened in a manner he would understand. You said that the blizzard was so strong that the roads had iced up and due to the speed he was driving, the car had slipped and crashed into a tree. He hit his head and the sheer impact caused trauma to his brain and made him lose his memories.

The doctors diagnosed him with retrograde amnesia, a form of memory loss that occurs from a traumatic brain injury. It prevented Taeyong from remembering what happened prior to his accident. His recovery was supposed to be gradual, it will take time for him to regain the memories he had lost but it wasn’t assured.

Taeyong doesn’t like telling what happened because people’s first reaction to his amnesia was to resort to aggression. As if their anger and frustration could magically make him remember what he had lost. You didn’t think of it that way, on one quiet night you told him that maybe it was just their desperation to bring him back to the person he was.

He thought it was selfish of them, but you kept your lips shut and refused to tell him that losing two years was a big deal to some people. Although he was still himself, quirks and habits are the same as you’ve first witnessed them, little aspects of him were different; some just different enough that others would do a doubletake to make sure it was really him. The person he is now just wasn’t exactly the person he used to be.

A slightly-off Taeyong, he grimly made a joke about.

You wanted to reassure him, comfort him that he didn’t need to try so hard to be who he used to be. You know despite all of his nonchalance and soft smiles, he was hurting. He instilled it in himself that he disappointed his loved ones by being a person they weren’t accustomed to. But you couldn’t, you weren’t in the place to when his last memories of you were when you have only first met during the anthropology class in your third year of college.

“God, that means you can’t even remember your own girlfriend.” Doyoung mumbled, mostly to himself but you heard it clearly enough as if he personally made it a point to stomp on your heart. Taeyong frowned.

“Shut it, Doyoung.” You grumbled, tears threatening to spill again. You and Taeyong have been so emotionally exhausted that having another person in the hospital room usually would lift both of your spirits, but Doyoung proved himself to be a disturbance instead.

Hours were spent lounging around with Doyoung talking Taeyong’s ears off with stories that he had missed in the past two years, how he was the one who had forced him into the class he shared with you and how coerced him into asking you out before he graduated; a bunch of stories that it almost made Taeyong wish that everything could just go back to the way it was.

He wasn’t the Taeyong they speak so fondly off, he was merely just the shell of him. Still, Doyoung had brought out a smile that you had been unable to make and for that, Taeyong gave him his thanks. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and sniffled.

Doyoung left not too long after, but he promised to visit soon. He knew you needed the support. You were left alone with your boyfriend again and the silence envelops you whole. When you excused yourself to grab a much-needed coffee, Taeyong sank to the hospital bed and succumbed to his tears.

This was his last night in the hospital and it had felt like the longest. He was out like a light but you stilled in your chair beside his bed, fumbling with the ends of his blanket in worry of tomorrow. Not much had progressed in your relationship with him. He was still embarrassed, timid in how he acted around you. You asked if he wanted to go home with you and he reassured you that he would be fine with it, but the panic you felt was still prominent.

Morning came and after what seemed like hours of finishing what was left of Taeyong’s documents in the hospital, it was time to finally leave. You hailed a taxi and you couldn’t help but notice your boyfriend’s sudden rigidness inside the vehicle. Swallowing your reluctance, you took his hand and forced his attention on you throughout the entire drive. He was thankful that you were able to distract him.

The apartment you shared with Taeyong was small but humble, the third unit in an old building that you swore was built in an era before the current. Thin walls and a poorly constructed floor, it was all both of you could afford when you’ve decided to move in together fresh out of college. Despite its imperfections, it was home as long as you had him with you.

With the creaky sounds your front door made, you heard the familiar sound of soft thudding of feet run across the wooden floors to welcome your arrival. Your heart leaped at the sight of Lala, the three-year-old Labrador you adopted with Taeyong, bolting towards your direction with her tongue sticking out.

Taeyong trailed behind you, drinking the place in. His gaze kept on darting from one place to another, his lips parted in amazement at the thought that he really had the courage to move out of his parents’ house to live with his girlfriend. It looked lived in, bits of his and your personalities showing in the way it was decorated and cluttered. The clashing of color schemes and wood tones almost made him want to laugh over how it was clearly furnished purely on indecision and compromise.

He was too busy familiarizing himself to notice that Lala had jumped on him. Your heart squeezed at the sight.

You crouched down to your knees, reaching over to scratch the back of Lala’s ear. You chuckled at Taeyong’s confusion on how to approach the hyperactive puppy, “Her name is Lala, she’s three years old. We adopted her on your birthday last year.”

Taeyong nodded with widened eyes, getting down to your level to attempt to pet her. He commented offhandedly, “Good girl, Lala.”

“She definitely prefers you over me, too.” You mumbled, watching Lala cave into Taeyong’s touch. She hadn’t seen him in a while so you wondered if her attachment to him would waver but it seemed to only grow stronger, the same way you were with your boyfriend. “I had my friend take care of her while we were gone.”

Taeyong kept his quiet and you swallowed the lump in your throat. His doctor told you to treat him especially kindly since he was in a vulnerable state, but you should instill a sense of normalcy. You were instructed to treat him as you normally would, he needed to be reminded of the lifestyle he used to have little by little.

The idea of having to consume copious amounts of medicines every day was already exhausting and gruesome, he even had the bandage around his head to deal with. He had a lot on his plate, you wouldn’t dare add to it by pressuring him to become the adult he doesn’t remember that he was. In his mind, he was still twenty years old and was living in a rickety dorm with Doyoung; it will surely take time for him to grow out of it.

You told Taeyong to go sit down on the stool across the island, to make himself comfortable while you prepared dinner—attempt to prepare dinner. Racking all the recipes his mother had taught you over the years, you wanted to cook a meal he would enjoy and reminisce over.

“Doyoung told me you didn’t like cooking very much.” You heard Taeyong’s voice said, a voice free of malice and full of genuine interest. He said, “It makes sense that I should be the one making food for us right now. You know, for all the trouble I’ve caused you the past week.”

You shook your head firmly, turning around so your back faced him. You didn’t want to let him see your ever-growing frown. You sighed, “Don’t worry, I can handle this. Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.” He mumbled, pressing his cheek against the palm of his hand. He wished he could do more for you, but you weren’t letting him; you had your wall up as high as he had his.

Shuffling to where your coffee maker was, you quickly fixed a cup of coffee for him as if you moved purely on instinct. Taeyong watched you in amusement as you slid a blue mug to his way. The paint of its design was chipping off the edges and it had a small crack on the handle, it definitely had seen better days but he felt oddly drawn to it.

You saw him eyeing it out and you chuckled, “We went out on a pottery class for a date once and I made that mug for you. You refused to drink coffee without it, but I think it’s time for us to throw it out and buy you a better one.”

“No!” Taeyong interjected almost immediately, waving his hands to dismiss your idea. “I like it. We’re keeping it.”

Your chest ached, but you were unable to pinpoint the feeling that made it so, “If you say so.”

Taeyong was a picky man when it came to his coffee. He wasn’t an avid drinker of dark and rich brews, often preferred the sweeter and creamier side of the spectrum. The drink you made for him tasted just right, the perfect balance, and he was overwhelmed with gratitude. It made him laugh, how his taste in college didn’t seem to change in his twenty-three-year-old body.

“You can go look around while I cook.” You remarked, jutting your chin towards the rest of the apartment that he has yet to see as you run your hands under the running water. He followed your gaze and shook his head. You quirk an eyebrow, “You sure? It’ll take a bit before these noodles cook.”

Lala encircled his feet before cozying herself on top of his shoes, refusing to leave his sight. He laughed, bending down to pick her up and place her onto his lap. With his hands deep into the puppy’s golden fur, he asked, “Is Lala supposed to be a reference to the Teletubbies?”

You turned the stove on and plopped in the boxed pasta you retrieved from the pantry, “Your nephew loved the Teletubbies at some point so we made him name her.”

A visible twinkle appeared in Taeyong’s eye at the mention of his nephew. He’d only seen photos of him recently, the last he remembered of him was that he was only an infant cradled in his sister’s arms. And as if a barrier was put down, he asked if you could tell him more about what he had missed in his personal life. If Taeyong from the past trusted you enough to move in and adopt a dog together⁠—which he couldn’t believe he was able to do in college, he had to trust you, too.

You gladly entertained his curiosities while you prepared a mediocre version of his mother’s Jajangmyeon. As obscure some of his questions were, you were as honest as you could be. From how he managed to pass his senior year to how he got the job at his company, he asked it all while stuffing his face with dark noodles.

In your eyes, he looked like a kid who wanted to know what his older brother did, to follow in his footsteps and be just like him. He wanted to absorb so much information, it almost pained you to look at him listening to you with an expression so clearly resembling envy.

He cut you off and called out to you with a voice lower than before, sadder but still hesitant. You glanced at him in worry that you were rambling too much. He averted his attention away from you, “You’re crying.”

Raising a hand to your cheek, it was wet. You coughed in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He mumbled, meekly offering his half-empty drink to you.

You hopped out of your seat beside him, carrying your empty bowl to the sink. You stayed a bit longer away from his line of view, wanting to keep your emotions in check for Taeyong’s first night back in the apartment. You didn’t want to scare him away, he was getting more comfortable and you succumbing to your feelings would ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

You turned the tap on and cracked your neck, “I’ll clean up here while you can go take a bath. The bathroom is next to the bedroom.”

He let out a breath and nodded, lingering for a moment before ultimately deciding that it would be best to leave you be. He didn’t know how he could comfort you when he was the reason for your distress, it would only hurt you more if he tried to console you of things he didn’t know of.

He spotted a box on the coffee table on his way to the bathroom, a bright red box with doodles scribbled onto its sides. Glancing at you, he was about to ask what it was inside when he clamped his mouth shut. He sat down on the couch and let his curiosity get the best of him, reaching to fiddle with the latch that sealed it closed.

Inside were piles of polaroid films, photos were not only of you and him but also of his friends from college and people he had yet to remember. An assortment of knickknacks filled it to its brim, variations of trinkets that included movie tickets and receipts. It was a box made to help Taeyong remember the memories he had lost, the connections he had with people that he had forgotten.

Taeyong bit the inside of his cheek, it must’ve been your doing. You probably asked around for others to help assemble the box, his heart swelled at the thought. You were working hard to make himself and his environment feel normal after losing a good chunk of his memories, he had to work hard as well.

His fists were shaking, his knuckles turning a shade paler than it already was. Lala snaked into the crook of his arm and whimpered at her owner’s change of composure. He laughed humorlessly, scratching her belly in appreciation.

Shutting the box closed, he sighed. He made his way towards the unfamiliar bathroom and filled the tub. Doyoung always told him that a bath could melt all of his troubles away, and how he wished it was that easy.

Taeyong came out of his long bath with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, blushing as he hastily pulled on the clothes you had prepared for him in the bedroom. You remained unfazed as you waited for him in a change of sleepwear, he realized that you might’ve already seen him naked before and the thought of it only worsened the state of his cheeks. He perched on the edge of the bed once he was finished.

You grabbed his ointment and attended to the injury on the side of his head, a gash that the doctors had sewn back together. You had a light hand, he noted, but the ache persisted. It burned when the tip of its applicator grazed along the stitches. He reached out to toy with the hem of your shirt, to divert his attention from the pain. You wrapped a bandage around his head as quickly as you could.

You mumbled, “It’s all done.”

“Thank you.” He smiled up at you and you returned it halfheartedly. “Let’s go to sleep, yeah? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, don’t! This bed is yours, too.” You said, holding onto his wrists before he could make a home on your busted couch that functioned as Lala’s chew toy half the time. “I know how much your back hurts because of the hospital bed so please, sleep here.”

Taeyong looked at you with a conflicted expression on his face but after seconds of contemplation and mental debate, he relented only if you’d use the bed as well. You sighed and caved in.

He crawled to his side of the bed, making you wonder if there was an inkling of a chance that he remembered how much he preferred his half that faced the windows. You shuffled to your side, mindful to not cross any boundaries. This would be his first time sleeping next to you and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable by being too close for comfort.

You switched to your side, away from his sight. The awkwardness was suffocating you, it seemed like you were the only one affected by it because soon you felt his side dip as he made himself more comfortable while you were frozen like a statue. You were nearing the edge of the bed, so far the end that one wrong move would make you fall out of it.

“Taeyong, are you asleep?” After an hour of silence, you spoke up but in hopes that he was already sleeping.

Unfortunately for you, he hummed in response. You could feel the blankets shift, making it known that he was facing your direction now that you’ve called him. At your lack of reply, he must’ve thought you didn’t hear him so he cleared his throat, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, look. I just want to say that if you want to break up with me, I’ll understand.”

“What?” He slowly sat up in confusion, hefting himself up with his elbows. You refused to look at him, gnawing on your lips and your eyes squeezed shut as if you were a kid caught by your parents awake past your bedtime.

“This situation we’re in, you don’t have to force yourself to be with me if you don’t want to.” You managed to choke out, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to continue living who you are now, I’ll just hinder you from moving on if I only remind you of the memories you lost.”

He called out your name, much sterner and different from the gentle tone he always used on you. You were suffering worse than he was, that he knew, but he didn’t know just how much until you’ve finally cracked—the insecurities and worries you’ve hidden from him, pouring out all at once and he didn’t know what to do with it.

You were sobbing into the sheets and he could only rub circles onto your back as a failed attempt at comfort. He wanted to tell you so many things, to reassure you that he wasn’t thinking the way you assumed he would be.

Taeyong thought of you so highly. You were someone who carried all of his burdens and stories that made him the person that he was, someone who had so much love for him despite not having it reciprocated back, someone who just wanted him to forgive himself for not being who he was and to start living again. You weren’t just some stranger to him, but the world had robbed him of you.

He ignored his hesitance and whispered under the blanket of the night, “You might’ve lost the Taeyong that you love but I promise I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that I’m worthy of the same love you’ve once given to me.”

“Taeyong—”

“It’ll take some time and I can’t assure you that things will be the same as it was but I swear, I will never forget you again and we’ll be happy.”

There were a lot of things to do, but none of those things were as important to him as lying here next to you, to pick up what remained of you from his ruins. He knew full well that he wasn’t the only victim. He was aware that you were also trying your best for him, to hold onto what’s left of the pieces you used to love about him.

“I really want this to work out.” You admitted amid your hiccups and sniffles, his heart broke at the sound of it. “I know I haven’t lost you yet.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” He mumbled, running his nimble fingers through the locks of your hair as a serene silence filled the room as you didn’t say anything back. After a week of being in the hospital, your heavy breathing was enough to lull him into his sleep.

You glanced at him for the first time since you had laid down, observing his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. A small smile appeared on your face, he looked tired even though he was already deep in his sleep. You whispered in the dark, “Sleep tight, Taeyong.”

The cold of the night renders you restless once again, your eyes brimming with a bright red hue and utter exhaustion. You swung your legs to the side of the bed, careful enough to not wake your boyfriend who was already asleep. His gentle snores filled the room and you made your way towards the balcony connected to the bedroom with your phone in hand and a blanket draped around your shoulders.

It was another starless sky, you looked up and the absence of the twinkling lights comforted you. You pulled on the blanket closer as you fiddled on your phone, tapping on an option that directed you to a phone call.

“Don’t you know that it’s two in the fucking morning? What do you want?” Doyoung’s voice replaced the monotonous ringing, sounding raspy from what you assumed was his sleep.

“I wanted someone to talk to.” It was your honest answer and you knew he wouldn’t judge you for it.

He yawned, and for a moment you felt a twinge of guilt but it dissipated the second after, “How is Taeyong doing? You brought him back home earlier, right?”

“He’s okay. He’s passed out on the bed right now.” You said, stealing a glance at where Taeyong was sprawled across the bed. A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips, you haven't seen him more at peace. “It kinda sucks, you know? I want to be strong for him but I don’t know how long I will last.”

“You love him, right?”

“I do. So much.”

“Then just be patient, please. You’re the only person he can truly rely on right now.” Doyoung sounded like he was almost pleading with you, entrusting his best friend to you for a second time with the first was when you agreed to be Taeyong’s girlfriend. He said, “The love you shared is very strong, it conquered many hurdles and it will overcome this.”

You nodded your head, but you remembered Doyoung couldn’t see you. You whispered, “I’m scared, Doyoung.”

“Of?” He asked as quietly as you were being as if you wanted the conversation to only be a secret between each other.

“What if he never loves me again?” Your nail was shoved in between your teeth, your leg anxiously bouncing against the floor. It was a thought that had flitted about your mind but you have shoved it so far back in an attempt to ignore it but it demanded your attention, to face its possibility.

He scoffed at the other end of the line, “It’s Taeyong we’re talking about here. If he could fall in love at his first sight of you in college, he could easily do it again.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Doyoung. I needed that.”

“Alright, good night. Take care of yourself.” He said, dropping the call when you didn’t return his farewell.

You bent over the railing, tilting your chin up to face the night sky once more. You scoured the endless dark for even just a glimpse of a shooting star, for a chance to wish upon the universe to end this nightmare of yours. Your boyfriend was right there with you, but you have never felt more lonely.

Shutting your eyes closed, you let out another sigh. You were so tired of crying but it felt like the only thing you could do. You wondered just how much an average person could cry, maybe you’ve exceeded their record.

You left the balcony not too long after, padding back to the bed with a heavier heart. You sat on your side and twisted your body to face Taeyong. His mouth was parted and his cheek was pressed onto the pillow he held onto, a chuckle rolled off your tongue. Before you could even think of stopping yourself, you leaned onto him and placed a kiss onto his forehead.

A familiar heat rises to your neck at what you have done, you jumped from where you sat and raised a hand to your lips as if you’ve been burnt. You hadn’t been this intimate to him since the accident happened.

You grabbed your blanket and bolted to the living room, making do with the couch for the rest of the night as you forced yourself to sleep. Lala sleepily watched you in confusion.

Days passed and things have gone relatively the same as the first time Taeyong returned from the hospital, but you noticed the tension has lifted ever-so-slightly. You finally stopped crying yourself to sleep and eventually he has grown enough courage enough to express his affection—discreetly holding your hand and tugging you into his arms late at night to cuddle.

He was forced to stay at home for the remainder of the month while he recuperated, family and friends have visited from time to time to keep him company while you returned to your job. All the stories he’d heard about the two years he’d forgotten about, all of them were linked to you one way or another and it sparked a familiar surge of jealousy he had over his own self; that his past self made so many good memories with you that he could not never experience again.

His feelings for you were growing steadily, dare he said that he may have grown a crush on you. He could never admit it aloud for how pathetic it was, to have a crush on your own girlfriend. But it was your soft hair, your gentle hands, and your never-ending love and patience for him—these were some of the things he could not believe he had forgotten the existence of, how loved it made him feel, and he was ready to drown himself in it again.

Taeyong received a package when you were still at work one day, the label of his hometown address stamped at the right-hand corner indicated that it was from his parents. He ripped off the packaging tape with Lala nuzzling into his side.

He looked inside and saw his luggage. When he was rushed in an ambulance after his crash, his parents were the firsts to arrive at the hospital so the nurses had entrusted to them his belongings that were found in the wreckage. They failed to return it to him once he regained his consciousness as they hurried home soon after you had arrived, unable to stay much longer for personal matters.

He supposed that he only had clothes in it for he was told that he came from his hometown for a week-long visit. Rummaging through his clothes, he was surprised to see a velvet box hidden underneath the pile.

He took it out and gaped at it with owl-like eyes, he fumbled to flip it open. A shiny sparkle of a diamond reflected a faint rainbow from the sunlight that poured from the nearby window, he stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Chuckling softly, he held the engagement ring close to his chest with a newfound source of encouragement.

You returned home that day to a romantic dinner. Candles of different scents were lit up and a torn picnic blanket covered the dining table, you took off your shoes and followed the scent of your boyfriend’s familiar cooking and spotted him in the kitchen. He donned a suit but he had on an apron to protect his front, busy with whatever meal he was preparing to see you peeking in from the doorframe.

“What are you doing?” You asked, and Taeyong swore you had on the brightest smile that he had seen in a while.

He turned off the stove and threw aside his apron, he strode his way to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He placed his chin on top of your head and said, “I want to get to know you better.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“But I want to take you out on a first date—well, not out out, but you get what I mean.”

You giggled, pressing your cheek against his chest but you suddenly drew back, the worried expression you had taking him by surprise. Raising a hand to his forehead, you asked, “Your heart is beating really fast. Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?”

He stared at you incredulously before bellowing a laugh, a hearty laugh you’ve never heard before. Shaking his head, a small hint of a smile appeared on his lips. He gently pried off your hand from his face and placed a kiss onto the back of your hand. He said, “I’m okay now.”

You were unconvinced that he was, but his sudden affection made it easy for you to ignore it. He leaned down and stole a chaste peck onto your reddened cheek. He put his hand inside the pocket of his suit and nervously fiddled with the velvet box.

Taeyong lost so much of his memories, but he was ready to make new ones as long as he was with you. He will learn to love you again as much as he did before, if not more as long as the universe allowed his heart to.

937 notes · View notes

ratmonky · 3 years

Text

Ciggy Burns Commentary

Commentary you have been waiting for and the one I had forgotten!!!!

^^; sorry!

This commentary is going to be both serious and silly, either way yeah this is just art and you can interpret it as you want.

warnings for the content: non-con, kidnapping, blackmail, torture, urination (no piss kink lol), humiliation, dacryphilia, knife play, manipulation, violence, mild gore, mind break, captivity

Tumblr Link to Cigarette Burns

AO3 Link to Cigarette Burns

No sane person would continue bullying their victim from back in school but again, Junpei had never been lucky in his life.

Those guys were now battering him without the need to hold back. Since they were all out of school, they didn’t need to be held accountable for anything they did to him. Nobody was going to scold them or call their parents. None of them were children anymore.

Junpei wasn’t weak. He knew he wasn’t but against those guys, he could never win if he tried standing up for himself. Bigger fish ate the smaller fish, it was that easy.

“What happened to you?” his boss asked when he noticed the new bruises on his neck and face.

Unconsciously, Junpei’s hand went to his face. “Oh, it’s nothing, sir.” He calmly brushed it off as nothing but it made him feel at ease somehow that someone took notice of his well-being.

Junpei was used to being invisible and someone caring about his battered face meant him the world even if it was a small bit of worry his boss showed.

“You’ll scare the customers looking like that,” his boss said, clicking his tongue. “Go to the back, someone else will take the cash register.”

Junpei nodded languidly. He had gotten the picture.

Here it was evident that Junpei wasn’t treated like a person by anyone. We’ve all been there, feeling invisible and unwanted but I wanted to lay the base at the start with his battered face being a problem for his boss. His boss didn’t care because why would he? It’s not like Junpei is someone he treasures deeply, he’s just an employee, nothing else.

~~~

“Get up.”

His calm voice loudly echoed in the empty alley. Junpei planted his aching and shaking arms on the concrete floor to push himself up. He wobbled as he got back up on his feet.

They were all laughing, the same guy who had told him to get up gathered all his might and punched Junpei in the face, knocking him off of his feet yet again, Junpei’s lanky body crashed on the concrete.

“He bounces off the ground like a ball!” someone laughed, “It’s so funny, I’ve never thought a human could do that.”

“It’s from the impact,” another one pointed out. “Didn’t you learn about that in school?”

“Argh, man don’t remind me of physics!” he whined. “I’ve seen videos of people jumping from the buildings and they bounce like that when they hit the ground, it’s so crazy dude!! They don’t even start bleeding until like ten seconds later!!”

Junpei groaned in pain but tried to stifle his voice. The tension would fade away soon enough and they would forget about him if they kept going on about their stupid argument. His hand went to his face, it was wet. Slowly, he lifted his hand up to look at the blood dripping from his hand. With a sharp gasp he turned over on the concrete he was laying.

He laid on his back, watching the sky.

This could have been ranked in the top five on one of the worst days of his life, it could take second place, the first one being the day his mother had died.

His vision blurred with tears, he couldn’t move a single muscle anymore.

“Woah, he’s crying!”

“Just like a damn kid, isn’t that pathetic?”

“Wait wait wait, I’ll give him something better to cry about.” Their leader who had been using him as a punching bag walked over to Junpei, he pushed down his tracksuit pants and pissed on Junpei.

They all started laughing louder as Junpei tried squirming but couldn’t even move a finger. He then relented, watching the sky and his assaulter standing on top of him while his clothes were getting soaked in urine. He had worked overtime today but he felt almost too sore. He could feel a weird rush on his body, ah, nevermind, that was probably from this guy pissing on him.

Once the guy was done, he pulled up his pants and they all left.

Junpei didn’t move or rather didn’t bother to move as his nostrils were getting invaded with the ugly stench. It was hitting up to his nose bridge, he tried ignoring it but it was too strong.

By the time he found enough strength to move, he decided to walk back to his place using the dark alleys and the empty streets. The cold night breeze felt like a blizzard thanks to him being soaked in piss, the next day he was definitely going to get sick.

A tremendous wave of rage washed over him. He started to wonder where everything went wrong. Why was he still being humiliated like this? Was it because he was weak and unable to fight back?

Unless Junpei did something to stop them, he would have to continue to live his life in misery. Then Junpei realized the anger he felt towards them wasn’t going to fade away if he only stopped them. He wanted to hurt them like they hurt him for all those years. They had to pay for what they had done.

They had to suffer like he did.

Although he was only angry and wanted them to suffer, Junpei was only tired of being weak. Having been bullied his whole life was paving the way for him to go insane slowly.

~~~

If there was a button that would kill everyone he hated, he wouldn't press it. However, if there was a button that would kill everyone who hated him, he would press it without hesitation.

Canon, right?

Nevertheless, if there existed a button that would make everyone who hurt him and their loved ones suffer, he would choose to press that button.

Hatred and grudge are terrible emotions. It can capture you and swallow you whole. Sometimes, when you get angry you may have had thoughts about wanting a certain person to suffer but there’s a line you don’t cross.

When you wish for the person you hate the most to die, you don’t wish death on their loved ones because they had nothing to do with them. However-

Death would be too forgiving after all they had done but letting them suffer every single day until their last breath sounded like the perfect option.

Making them suffer until they can’t take it anymore would be the perfect punishment.

Junpei was drowning in hatred, I wanted to make sure to give him this perspective of wanting his bullies to suffer with their loved ones so he could get revenge but the thing is… Junpei was never strong enough (mentally) to do things that could make someone innocent suffer.

~~~

Junpei hadn’t thought he would spend his day off stalking the leader of his bullies who had pissed on him that night but here he was.

That guy was more of a loser than Junpei ever could be. He spent his day walking around and smoking when he wasn’t playing pachinko or disturbing the peace in the streets.

Although it was boring to follow the guy around, Junpei needed at least some information about this guy to hurt him. Junpei could never outpower him and torture him like in his fantasies but if he could blackmail him in some way it would be more than enough. He only needed something to use it against him.

After the fifth hour, he lost hope. The guy was useless, he didn’t have a purpose in his life or something he could use against him. As he was getting ready to call it a day, something happened.

The guy stopped in front of a convenience store, talking to a girl who was sweeping the front of the shop. She said something and they laughed. They walked into the store, Junpei watched through the large store window as he made his way to the cash register and continued talking to the girl until she walked around the counter. The girl didn’t look like she was uncomfortable talking to him.

They continued chatting for a while before the girl crouched down behind the counter. When she was back in Junpei’s view, she was holding a large package. The guy looked annoyed but took the package from her, they exchanged some sort of farewell before he walked out of the store.

Junpei pulled his baseball cap further down and followed the guy to an apartment building. He kept his distance and watched him use a key to get into the building, after a long time of waiting, Junpei made his way towards the building’s entrance but didn’t go inside.

Instead, he checked the name tags next to each doorbell. Then he noticed a familiar last name next to a girl's name.

Bingo.

Here, although he found the reader’s place and was stalking them, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. Actually, there was going to be a segment of him debating on whether or not to send the reader anonymous death threats about his brother and everything but it felt out of place. Junpei is still sane, after all.

~~~

They caught him after work the next day.

“Hold him.”

While the two guys held Junpei against the wall, their leader inhaled from his cigarette with a sinister smile as his hand reached for Junpei’s face and cupped his cheek.

Junpei struggled but the other two guys were using their both hands to hold him in place.

The leader’s hand moved up his cheek and carded the long fringe covering Junpei’s forehead back. He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling it in the vulnerable one’s face before pressing the still-lit cigarette between two other barely healed burns.

When Junpei opened his mouth to scream, the guy shoved the cigarette in his mouth. He forcefully closed his jaw shut and snickered two words, demanding. “Eat it.”

Having no other choice, Junpei chewed. The tobacco which wasn’t made for consumption through the mouth was bitter than anything these guys made him eat before, he wanted to gag as the small leaves covered the inside of his mouth, making it impossible to chew any more as they absorbed his saliva, leaving him with a dry mouth.

He was being humiliated, I don’t know if you know how it feels to be degraded to the point of you losing your pride, being afraid to talk to others, expressing emotions or even lifting your head to look at someone because you feel inferior to them but that was how Junpei felt… at least until now.

They laughed at the same time he was struggling to breathe.

In the end, Junpei so desperately wanted to be the last one to laugh.

First crack. First step to his insanity.

~~~

Junpei spent two weeks preparing everything. He learned your working schedule, which route you took home, and just how much your brother treasured you. From his observations, he could confidently say that you were the only thing a guy like him cared about.

You were perfect.

Junpei is no villain mastermind, just an ordinary guy. He didn’t have a plan on what he was going to do or how he was going to do it. He was acting without thinking or rather letting his anger and hatred for his bullies control him.

~~~

I wrote this segment to change the perspective, give the reader a normal impression. To show that she’s passive aggressive but she’s still just a normal person who had a late night job and a brother who treasured her.

Tonight was going to be the last late-night shift ever for you. Not because you hated it but because your brother insisted you stopped working at night since he believed it was dangerous for any girl your age.

Unlike any other nights, you had told him you would walk home yourself, although he refused at first, when you lied to him about promising to take a taxi home, he relented.

First sprinkles of how caring the brother is. He cares and treasures the reader. Because she’s family.

It had been quite a calm night, even during the rush hour after the bars closed, it was quiet.

Although you weren’t supposed to close the store any earlier than the time that was written on the entry door, you clearly weren’t going to have anyone coming here after this hour. So, you decided to wipe the floors and close the cash register. As the machine was printing out the entire day’s worth of receipt, you flipped the ‘open’ sign on the door to ‘closed’.

Once the store was clean and ready to close, you went to the dressing room to take off your work shirt. It wasn’t your turn to wash any of the shirts this week which meant that you could throw the shirt into the laundry basket that was already filled up with dirty shirts without hesitation. Your coworker was definitely going to be angry but you couldn’t care less, they often left the toilet clogged and never changed the coffee filter when they used the coffee machine in the break room. It was simply your way of getting back at them.

Also, here, even though it may not have meant a lot to you, this part is important. The reader is shown to be passive aggressive in contrast to her brother. She’s not the type to get violent, she is not some sort of angel either. Just a regular person who gets upset over small things.

After counting up all the money and leaving the receipts in the small safe, you turned off the lights to exit from the back with the trash. You took out the keys from the front pocket of your pants and locked the back door.

Goosebumps prickled your skin, the cold of the night was too harsh. Strolling out of the warmth of the store into the crisp night air was like being suddenly flung into a blizzard. You shivered, throwing the trash into the large dumpster and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Your teeth were chattering when you bit your tongue out of a sudden because of something moving behind the dumpsters. Whipping your head around abruptly, you tried to see if what you saw from the corner of your eye was just your imagination.

Never the one to have quick reflexes or ever had been in a fight or flight situation, you stood there, staring at a lanky guy who was holding a handkerchief in his hand.

Where did he come from? Was he hiding behind the dumpster?

As if you still weren’t sure if what you were seeing was real or not, you blinked, completely frozen in place.

None of you moved.

“H-hello? C-can I help you?” Maybe he was one of the drunkards but you knew that wasn’t true. He was standing still, not even wavering.

It was quiet.

Seconds passed before you finally came back to your senses. You could simply walk away from him. Internally slapping yourself in the face, you took a step back to turn around.

Then he took a step, it made your breath hitch but you had made your mind. Turning around on your heels, you walked. He moved too. Your pulse went haywire in terror and before you could start running, you felt a cloth being pressed over your mouth, making you lose consciousness almost immediately.

~~~

The first thing you noticed was the smell of mold, dust, and wet concrete.

You felt shivers run down your spine. Your stomach churned and you froze as you recalled everything that had happened. Jolting up from the mold-covered mattress, you noticed two more things as soon as you started moving your body. There was a single metal anklet chaining you to a pillar and your hands were tied behind you.

When you opened your mouth to scream, you noticed another thing. Your mouth was taped.

Starting to hyperventilate, you found yourself crying in fear. Muffled sounds of your sobbing echoed in the dark until a loud creaking noise made you quiet down. You held your breath to listen carefully.

Click.

It was a door.

Someone was here with you.

It had to be your kidnapper.

Footsteps.

He was getting closer.

Okay, take a deep breath. Your brother had taught you how to fight, you had to go for a punch on the throat, kick him between the legs, and shove the inside of your palm up to his chin with everything you got. Well… although you had to be untied in those scenarios, you knew how to fight.

The thing is, although she knows how to fight, she’s not strong. Not mentally nor physically. I wanted to point that out with this line. Because after this line, you came to realize that the reader is in fact, powerless and pathetic. She can’t fight or anything. These are the type of thoughts you have in your mind when you feel invincible, before you get to face the bitter truth of how insignificant you could be against someone who had the upper hand on you.

What else, what else?

You moved your leg and the chain made a clanking sound.

The chain, it was long enough to-

“Brought you food, I can’t stay here today but I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

He’s gonna go to work. Literally. This is just another reflection of Junpei’s life, he’s just a normal dude with a job he needs to go to earn money to pay the rent.

You watched the guy put down a tray of food on the bed. They were all in bowls. Rice and water. By the time you looked up to him, you saw that he was wearing a facemask and gloves. He noticed your stare and kneeled on the mattress.

He’s hiding himself, that’s because he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do to her. He’s still conflicted if he should just let her go. The face mask is there so she won’t recognize him once he lets her go. He doesn't want her to think of him as a monster either, hiding his face because he’s ashamed of having her here.

Suddenly, you started squirming, not wanting him to come close to you. Yet it was futile, he pressed you down by your shoulder.

“I’ll peel the tape off,” he announced and scratched the corner of the tape until he managed to lift enough of it to be able to grab. Then he peeled it off abruptly, making you scream in pain. “Ah, I’m going to be late…” He got up from the mattress while checking his phone. “Like I said, I’ll be back tomorrow-”

“Who are you?! Why are you doing this?! Where am I?!” you screamed, your voice broke thrice as if you were too dehydrated. How long had you been here?

He didn’t answer and walked out from the way he came, you heard him shut the door.

I’m bad at writing but yeah, he can’t handle being face to face with the consequences of what he’s doing to her or getting yelled at. He literally hadn’t thought she’d be fighting back.

Someone could hear you now that your mouth was free. So you started screaming and finally got up to your feet. You were discalced and the wet concrete was incredibly uncomfortable to walk on, the small pebbles of things you couldn’t see prickled under your feet.

Hours passed, or it felt like hours passed but your throat was sore from screaming nonstop. The chain wasn’t that long, you couldn’t reach anywhere as you only could go around in circles.

Since you were exhausted, you relented and walked back to the mattress to sit on a spot where it didn’t have any mold.

Your stare landed on the tray of food the guy left earlier. You were starving but how were you supposed to eat when your hands were tied behind your back? You could have tried moving them front by sliding them down your back while crouching and then stepping back but the metal chain around your ankle was preventing you from doing exactly that.

Moving closer to the tray of food, you wondered why everything was in a bowl yet again.

The realization hit you at once when you saw the bone design on the bowls. He was messing with you, he expected you to eat like a damn dog. That made you lose it altogether. You kicked the tray as far as you could and continued screaming.

~~~

You had never realized how slow time moved until now. Hours were like years. You couldn’t move because your stomach was sizzling with acid, trying to basically digest itself and making you regret kicking the tray.

No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t reach the food, the chain was too short.

Was this how you were going to die?

Ugh, what are you stupid? People won’t die from starvation or thirst this early and you would be fine… he said he was coming back.

Tomorrow night?

Was it morning when he said that?

You didn’t know the answer.

Your head started spinning again.

~~~

Something was poking your cheek.

“Hey.”

You jerked awake, startling the guy.

It was quiet as he waited for you to sit up. You didn’t have the strength to yell or scream at him anymore.

“You should eat this time, I don’t know when I’ll be back.” He put the tray down on the mattress but he didn’t leave like the last time. He stood there, waiting.

You leaned forward towards the tray, it was the same food from before and they were in the same bowls. Your eyes scanned around the large place, the bowls you had kicked weren’t anywhere to be seen, so they had to be the same bowls.

Your gaze landed on the guy, he was still wearing a face mask and gloves. There were a chair and a large bag next to the pillar far away from the one you were chained to, completely out of your reach.

“Come on, eat now, I’ll put it away or the mice will gather on this floor again.”

“I can’t eat like this,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. “Untie me.”

“That’s why they’re in a bowl, use your mouth.” Was his answer.

His speaking becomes more direct, order like. It’s because he starts to realize the power dynamics they have more. He finally has a sort of plan in his mind.

“I’m not going to humiliate myself like that.” For someone in captivity, you sure were asking for first-class treatment.

“If you wanna leave here you might wanna do the things I say when I say them,” he said, walking over to the chair to sit down. “It’ll speed up the process.”

“Why am I here?” you demanded, sounding a little too annoyed. “What process?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, watching you in silence.

“I have a brother,” you hissed through your teeth, “He’ll know I’m missing and once he finds you, he’ll make you regret everything-”

“He’s the reason why you’re here.” His tone was blank, devoid of anything.

“Huh?”

“Eat now, we have things to do.”

After careful thinking, I wanted to change the way he was speaking to her in a way to hint that he was now determined.

“People will notice my absence!” You raised your voice, “I have friends and a job, they will all notice.”

“They won’t.” He didn’t explain further but you weren’t dumb. He was wearing a face mask and gloves, the food was just rice and water.

These were just precautions; he is scared of the consequences, he is scared shitless of what will happen once he lets her go. He doesn’t want her to recognize him or leave fingerprints.

“Y-you planned this…”

He didn’t. Not everything. These are just him acting on impulse.

“You should eat, we have things to do.”

There were a thousand different thoughts going through your mind in a millisecond. “I’m not gonna eat,” you grumbled, “Let me go.”

You heard him sigh before he stood up to walk over to the mattress. He grabbed the tray and walked away with it, putting it on the chair.

“I guess it’s better if we start now and then you can eat.” He crouched next to the large back, unzipping it. You saw him take some stuff out but couldn’t make out what they were. “What kind of a guy is your brother?”

This question is important. It wasn’t just a question, it’s a way of knowing if the reader was aware of her brother’s actions. Family is family after all. But Junpei was going to judge the reader depending on her answer.

The question was weird. You couldn’t place your finger on it but it felt like a trap. As if he was testing you.

“I asked a question.”

Your shoulders tensed when he raised his voice.

“He’s protective and kind,” you blurted out.

The duality. Two faced. Junpei realizes that people only care about certain people and don't care about the people they hurt because they have nothing to do with them.

It’s hard to accept at times that people you meet are not like how they act in front of you to their loved ones. Someone can be mean to you but could be the sweetest person to their lover. Someone could be the kindest to you but could be the person who drove another person into madness.

That made him scoff, he shook his head before getting back up and turned around. Immediately upon him walking closer to the mattress, you noticed that he was holding a box cutter.

It made a repetitive clicking sound as he pushed the blade out.

Fear came rushing back as you remembered once again that you were kidnapped by a stranger who clearly had planned this out.

“I’m- I’m sorry, please, wait!” You started squirming, hurrying to get up from the bed so you could at least dodge but he already had one hand grabbing your shoulder.

You were going to die, it was that easy. He was wearing gloves and hadn’t even touched you directly in any way, you were going to get brutally murdered and he wasn’t going to leave any evidence behind. You were- You were-

“Don’t move,” he warned, holding the box cutter where you could see it. You nodded rapidly in response, tears already blurring your vision.

You felt your shirt being stretched and before you knew it, being cut.

“W-what-”

“Your clothing is in the way.”

He tore the rest of the fabric left from your shirt and moved to your pants.

You watched in panic as he hooked a finger under the front of your pants and started cutting. The blade was too sharp, slicing the fabric of your pants smoothly and quickly. You weren’t dumb enough to struggle right now when the blade was so near your flesh, he was being careful to not cut you and you didn’t want to mess up his concentration.

By the time he managed to completely cut your pants and leave you only in your underwear, you caught a glimpse of his red ear and neck.

The ‘I’m dangerous’ facade is there but he’s blushing because he saw the reader without her clothes, isn’t that ironic. He’s not some psychopath, he’s just a guy who is sick of being bullied and wants to take matters into his own hands.

He flipped you over to grab the remains of your shirt and pants, after grabbing them he walked back to the large bag. The rustling sound filled your ears but you were too busy drowning in your tears. That had scared you and slapped you back to reality. You were helpless in this situation, no matter what you said or did, this guy could do whatever he wanted to you.

As long as you did everything he said, you would be unharmed, right? Wasn’t that what he said before? He also told you to not move so he wouldn’t cut you. Maybe this was just a prank.

Yeah, that had to be it.

Your brother could be a jokester sometimes, he had probably paid someone to prank you. Yes, that was it.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked.

Ahh, you hadn’t realized that you were laughing. Your laughter quieted down but you didn’t answer him because you didn’t know why either.

The reader is losing her composure, her passive aggressive self is slowly going to disappear so she can try to fight. The feeling of helplessness starts to mess with her.

His footsteps echoed in the warehouse, you heard them come closer before you felt the mattress sink. Instead of turning around, you listened to what he could be doing.

Rustling, plastic wrap opening, and paper being ripped. There was a momentary pause before you heard the familiar click sound of a lighter.

He inhaled and as soon as he did, he started coughing.

He was smoking… or trying to.

“How do people even smoke these?” he asked himself.

The fact that he was forcing himself to smoke, shows that he had become dedicated to his unknown plan of getting back to his bully.

Only while he was taking another whiff you realized he probably had pulled down or taken off his mask. You needed to see his face if you wanted to identify him once you got out and-

“Don’t move,” he warned. “When you struggle, it hurts more. Trust me, I know from experience.”

Still being considerate, he’s still unwilling. This isn’t a guy who enjoys torturing some girl for no reason, he feels obliged to do this.

You didn’t get to ask him what he was talking about as a sharp pain on your back made you scream in surprise. Your body twisted and moved away from whatever that was but a hand pressed you down onto the mattress by your head, keeping you in place. He used his knee to press you down by your back to make sure you couldn’t move at all.

“It’s not lit,” he mumbled and after his remark, you heard the lighter again. He inhaled, coughed, and then you felt the sharp pain on your shoulder this time. The pain was more vivid, you heard the sizzling coming from the cigarette and your skin felt like it was burning as the cigarette’s lit tip extinguished on your skin.

“Stop! Please! It hurts!”

He pulled it back but soon again you heard the lighter before he took another whiff of the cigarette, coughed, and pressed it on your skin.

“Why are you doing this? Please stop!”

“Your brother does this to me almost every single day,” he said, holding you in place and twisting the cigarette’s lit end on your skin. “Did you know?”

He starts to get more gutsy, he is sure he’s going to enjoy hurting her once he gets the hang of it. He knows this because the brother and the bullies enjoyed it.

Petrified, you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Your entire body stilled as you heard the lighter again.

“Please,” you choked out, voice breaking. “I didn’t know. This has nothing to do with me! I didn’t do anything.” You were becoming desperate as his hand moved away from your hair to start stubbing out cigarettes on the other shoulder.

“I didn’t do anything either,” he said. “But he never stopped, no matter how much I begged.”

“I’m not my brother, please, I’m innocent.”

“So was I.”

Junpei now has decided something, you’ll see it in the next scenes. He wants to do everything they did to him to her. Nothing more and nothing less.

Another burn and then another and then another-

Your tears had dried by the time he was done.

“Here’s the food, you should eat now before you pass out.”

You couldn’t roll on your back, the skin on your back was burning up and you were sure it was bleeding.

He must have noticed because he picked the tray up and put it right in front of you. This time, you didn’t say anything and stuck your face into the bowl, ëating the rice without taking a breath. As you were gulping down the water, you noticed that you needed to pee.

Seeing that you were done, he took the tray away from you.

“I…”

“Hmm?” He paused to listen to what you wanted to say.

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“If it’s pee, you can do it here.” He was being serious. “There’s no bathroom here and I forgot to bring a bucket.”

You see? He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t even know how long he would keep her here. He is just so stupid and reckless.

Your lips pressed together but it didn’t stop you from sobbing. “Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything to you.”

“You should blame your brother for this.”

He doesn’t know. He just feels obliged to. This feels like the right thing to do to get revenge.

You knew your brother could be a douche at times but you had never thought he would hurt someone like this. He was… so caring and loving towards you. He was always so careful and protected you from any danger.

“Why isn’t he here instead of me then?” If he hurt this guy to the point of him turning into a monster, he deserved to be here, not you.

“I want him to suffer,” he said.

He was planning to get to your brother by hurting you, it was that simple but he didn’t know your brother like you did. If your brother found out about what he did to you, he would actually kill him. The last guy who broke your heart by cheating on you had gotten three broken bones, there was no way this guy would survive his wrath.

Oh…

You started to connect the dots.

Your brother had anger issues, he took them out from anyone he could overpower. He was caring and protective of you because he was scared someone would treat you the way he treated others.

He had failed miserably.

Everything he did lead up to your torment.

Learning this wouldn’t anger him. Learning this would make him suffer. It could push him into a bottomless hole where he will only blame himself for everything until he would kill himself.

This guy didn’t seem like he was enjoying this, whatever he was doing to you hurt him more than it hurt you and it was your brother who did this to him.

He wanted your brother to suffer by breaking the thing he treasured the most.

This is the part the reader notices the pattern, the bitter truth she had been ignoring for so long. She feels pity for Junpei because this is really her brother’s fault. She’s here because of him.

“If… I’ll go and check the place again,” he announced. “I didn’t really check if there were any bathrooms.”

You nodded languidly and continued lying down on your stomach.

He came back a while later and grabbed something from his bag anteriorly returning to your side. “There’s a bathroom but the water pipes in there must be damaged, the flush didn’t work and the water coming from the faucet was black. I have wet wipes with me though.”

Metal clinking on metal echoed, no it was a familiar sound of keys rattling. You lifted your head up from the mattress and you couldn’t believe your eyes. He was dangling a key in front of you. He was holding wet wipes and something else in his other hand.

“I will untie you but you have to behave if you don’t wanna be hurt.” He put the key back in his pants’ front pocket and leaned forward to put on a collar around your neck. “Okay?”

“What is that?” you asked, planting your knees on the mattress and using your legs to sit up.

“A shock collar, its voltage is high enough to pin you down.” His explanation was quick as he was unlocking the metal anklet. “Please don’t make me use it.”

He helped you get up but your eyes were on the small device he was holding. It definitely belonged to the collar, it was a remote control. If you could take it away from him, you would be able to run away.

“Let’s go,” he said, holding you by your arm.

Okay, you needed to find a way to distract him. He needed to drop his guard enough for you to grab the device from him.

He led you out of the large opening and down some stairs before making a sharp right turn. You were panicking because all of the windows were blocked by wooden planks and you couldn’t tell where the exit was.

“It’s here.”

You walked inside a filthy bathroom, the tile floor that was supposed to be white was a disgusting brown and the stalls were covered in graffiti. You were discalced, there was no way you were going to walk inside without something between the filthy floor and your feet.

“Can I borrow your shoes?”

“No.” He dragged you inside and led you straight to a stall without a door. “Be quick.”

You stood in front of the dirty toilet, the ceramic was smeared with brown streaks and you could only hope it was mud.

Turning back to him, you trembled in panic. “A bucket… or outside would be better. Please, it’s so filthy here-”

“I have to leave soon, you either pee now or wet the bed later.” He wasn’t looking at you, averting his gaze to anywhere but you. “You don’t have another choice.”

He is actually way too merciful, he can’t look at her because he knows he will give in to her and take her outside. He’s not some emotionless bastard, that’s why he’s looking away.

You looked down and remembered that you were only in your underwear, the torture from earlier had made you forget about everything.

Ugh, you pressed your thighs together. You needed to relieve yourself, urgently. Yet another problem came up. “How am I going to do it when I’m tied up? I can’t pull my underwear down.”

His ears and neck turned red immediately, when he spoke, he was stuttering. “I-I’ll pull it down for you.”

Okay now, you get to see how awkward he feels. He didn’t think it would come to this when he decided to take her to the bathroom.

There was this urge to scream bubbling in your throat but you had to bite it as you watched him put the device in his pocket and crouched in front of you.

You stopped breathing when his gloved hands reached for your sides, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties before staggeringly pulling them down. He was breathing heavily, shoulders moving with each breath he took.

“H-here.”

He stood up, hands pulling down his shirt to cover a small problem you didn’t need to know about.

Look, the reader is the first girl he’s ever been near to. She’s basically the first girl he’s seeing ‘naked’. No matter the circumstances, it’s erotic but still he won’t touch her because she’s not here for this and he’s a good person. He made himself believe that he’s a good person and what he’s doing here just needs to be done.

“Are you going to wait here?” The least he could do was to give you privacy. “I can’t do it when you’re staring, it’s embarrassing.”

As if he only noticed you were still tied up and wouldn’t be able to run away when you’re this vulnerable, he nodded rapidly before taking a step back. “I’ll wait outside, let me know when you’re done so I can-” His eyes were on your halfway down panties, he stopped himself from talking and grabbed the wet wipes from the sink he had placed them on. “Just… be quick.”

They’re just two awkward adults. They both get to experience something in this scene. They’re just normal people here in this bathroom. Junpei cannot put on his tough guy facade here because she’s as vulnerable as he is.

Once he left, you took a deep breath, holding back your tears no matter how humiliating this situation was.

Okay, okay, okay.

This is fine.

You stared at the toilet and gagged dryly. There was no way you were going to sit on that…

Wait, you had heard that there were people who could pee standing up, maybe you could too.

Ugh, you would do anything to avoid sitting on this filthy thing anyway.

Taking a hesitant step back and lowering yourself reluctantly on the toilet, you stopped midway to try and see if you could do it.

The result?

It was as expected.

You pissed yourself, not even a drop landing inside the toilet.

A sob left your lips and the shame you felt was immeasurable. The guy was going to laugh if he saw you like this and what’s worse was that he was probably going to leave you like this.

This. Up until now, you got to know Junpei and started rooting for him but this. You realize that she doesn’t know Junpei like you do. To her Junpei is only a kidnapper who’s probably going to humiliate her with every chance he’s got.

You wondered how pathetic you looked right now.

Ahh, you hoped your brother had so much fun torturing this guy! You hoped he felt so powerful whenever he humiliated this guy! You hoped it was worth it for you to be standing here right now with your piss training down your leg, panties halfway down your knees, and shaking from the pain of the cigarette burns on your shoulders.

Your sobs turned into giggling.

“Are you done?”

“I pissed myself,” you replied, laughing hysterically but as soon as the guy was in front of you, your laughter turned back into sobs.

He didn’t laugh, rather he looked at you in pity. Which made you whimper audibly before continuously apologizing.

“I’m sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” your voice got quieter. “I feel so miserable and pathetic. I can’t do this anymore. Please let me go.”

A glimpse. He sees himself in her. They’re quite similar and he feels bad for doing this to her.

Without saying anything, he grabbed the wet wipes, opening the pack and pulling out a bunch of the wipes. “Come here.”

You took a wobbly step forward and another until you were in front of him.

He crouched, you stilled as he began pulling your piss-soaked panties down, wordlessly urging you to step out of them. Once you did, he used the wet wipes to clean your legs. He quickly wiped at the fluid running down your legs, doing his best to get it all in one go but he needed more wipes.

“Could you spread your legs wider?” He then started wiping your inner thighs after you complied, moving in a circular motion and avoiding looking at your bare pussy. By the time he was done wiping your legs he stood up, grabbing two more wet wipes from the back. “Do girls wipe from back to front or vice versa?”

The question was so out of nowhere that it made you snort.

This was supposed to be a comedic relief and a way of showing Junpei’s awkward and nonchalant personality but yeah it also laid the ground for the reader to start to trust him. He’s just a normal dude. Nothing more or less.

He sighed at your reaction and pressed the wet wipes on your slit, moving it along your folds.

“Ah.” Suddenly, your thighs pressed together, shaking as you pressed your forehead against his chest. The sensation had caught you in surprise, it even made you gasp softly.

He blushed bright red, wiping the front of your pussy and pulling his hand back immediately. “D-done,” he announced.

You nodded against his chest.

This scene is my favorite. The moment of tension, the first time he touched her (even if his intentions weren't sexual) sexually. It’s raw, it’s written normally but their reactions. They feel like an awkward couple, I wanted to make it so the power dynamics suddenly changed or rather disappeared.

These two are equal, only for now. They had an unintentional intimate moment and it’s bittersweet. It’s not supposed to be romantic, it’s supposed to be erotic only because Junpei is the one finding this interaction t be erotic. Even if it was unintentionally, he touched a girl and she reacted erotically.

That’s why in the end he’s the one who feels embarrassed and the reader doesn’t think much of what just happened.

Your plan to escape past forgotten, you walked back to the room and let him lock the anklet around your ankle again before taking out the shock collar. He brought a blanket he pulled out from the bag and draped it over your lap.

“I’ll… I’ll be back in the morning to bring a bucket and underwear for you.”

That was it?

He was going to leave you like this?

You were almost naked except for your bra now and you were exhausted. Having your hands tied around your back when there were so many cigarette burns on your shoulders only added to your pain.

“H-hey,” you called, “Can’t you untie my hands? It’s really uncomfortable.”

He stilled for a moment, thinking. Decidedly, his hand went back and he fished out the box cutter from his back pocket. He pushed the blade out, cutting whatever thing he had used to tie your hands off.

When the pressure disappeared, you felt your shoulders relax. You put your hands on your lap, rubbing your bleeding wrists gently.

He retrieved the thick black zip ties and walked away. “I’ll leave some more food and water then. I’ll leave the wet wipes here too, just find a corner to relieve yourself next time.”

You nodded, he left a couple of store-bought tuna mayo-filled onigiris and a bottle of water on the mattress before placing the wet wipes on the concrete ground.

“Um, uh… Goodnight. I’ll come back in the morning.”

”Yeah.”

You see, Junpei now feels kind of attached. He realized that she’s a human, and she’s a she. A female. A woman. He feels the need to be friendlier, it’s creepy because he only started doing this right after she reacted to his touch. He is pathetic and she noticed that.

He left.

You waited.

Waited.

When you were sure he was gone for the night, you grabbed one of the onigiris, tore the packaging open, and split the ball in half. With your shaking hands, you scooped out the filling and smeared it on your ankle.

Mayonnaise was slippery, it could help you slip the anklet out.

Nevertheless, it didn’t work.

The anklet was adjusted just right around your ankle, it didn’t budge any lower or higher, even with the help of the mayonnaise.

Screaming in anger, you wiped everything off with the wet wipes so the guy wouldn’t notice anything odd tomorrow.

The guy. She doesn’t even know his name.

You had to get out of here.

Think.

The chain clanked and you froze.

Your eyes landed on the anklet and followed the chain it was wrapped around.

An idea.

This could work.

No.

This was going to work.

~~~

Click.

You pushed yourself up from the mattress instantly.

He was back.

You could feel the blood pumping through your body, hands shaking from nervousness.

It was completely silent before he gracefully walked inside, he was holding a bucket and a plastic bag. His face was blank but his skin was pale and the face mask was barely covering his nose. He was covered in sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. “I ran here,” he panted. “Let’s be quick, I can’t be late to work again.”

He walked closer, dropping the plastic bag near the mattress and placing the bucket carefully down.

Your lips kept trying to curl down into a frown but you fought to keep your expression neutral as he kneeled next to the plastic bag and pulled out a fresh pack of cotton panties. “I’ll put the collar on you and untie you so you can dress yourself up, okay?”

Nodding, you kept your eyes on him as your breathing became ragged. As soon as he unlocked your anklet, you were going to pounce on him, wrap the chain around his neck and hopefully choke him until he passed out.

That was the plan.

Simple.

He instructed you to stand up while you had the blanket wrapped around your waist. Once you did as he told you, he put the shock collar around your neck and gave you the keys.

Dumbfounded, you stared at him.

“You can do it yourself, I’m gonna watch from a distance.”

No.

This would mean that your plan was ruined.

Funny thing is, I laid the ground so he wouldn’t wanna touch her again. Not that close to her genitals and that’s only because he probably noticed how it softened him, making his resolve falter. He is trying to put distance between them after he noticed that she is actually a woman he’s holding captive. He cannot do this anymore.

Yet, you took the keys from him and he took a couple of steps back, holding the device in his hands.

Your knuckles were white as you unlocked the anklet and tore the packaging of the underwear open. Putting one on, you let the blanket fall down on the mattress.

“Good, now put the anklet back on and throw me the keys.”

You hesitated but still kneeled to grab the anklet and put it around your ankle. Pausing, you pushed the key inside the lock but didn’t lock the anklet. It still made a metallic click sound but it was unlocked.

With shaky hands you threw the keys back at him, being careful to not move your leg so the anklet wouldn’t slip and fall down, ruining your scheme.

He walked over to where the keys had landed and leaned down to grab them. “I brought some more stuff, they’re in the bag. I don’t think I can torture you like your brother tortures me. I’ll… I’ll be back tonight to take you back.”

The color drained from your face and you stood there, shaking. “You’re letting me go?”

“I mean, I don’t feel enjoyment from this like I thought I would,” he breathed. “My mind was clouded with revenge so much that I wanted to torture you who had nothing to do with it.”

He is letting her go, actually. He knows the things he did were wrong and he regrets it. He feels bad because she’s just a helpless woman he held captive.

All of his emotions had drained away in an instant, leaving him reeling.

Hatred was a terrifying emotion.

Junpei could feel it surrounding him. He knew he didn’t hate you but his grudge for your brother hadn’t appeared out of thin air.

He knew it wasn’t fair to you to hold you accountable for what your brother had done to him but he couldn’t help but think of-

No matter how it was, Junpei had promised his mother to bear the burdens he had earned.

Your brother was a nasty bully. His crimes weren't anyone else’s but his fault.

Junpei knew that.

There was no way he could hurt you like he hurt him but… the burden was just too much.

His hands were twitching as he struggled to put away the keys. With an audible yet shuddered sigh, he walked towards you to take off the shock collar but he had moved so abruptly that it made you take a step back, the anklet opened and fell on the ground with a loud clatter.

Whether it be from shock or clumsiness, he dropped the remote control for the shock collar as well.

He froze and so did you.

None of you moved.

Your eyes were on the device, it was closer to you than him. If you were quick, you could grab it before he could. You wouldn’t be able to take off the collar right now, your only chance was the device.

He knew exactly what you were thinking.

He is scared that if she runs away now, without him trying to make things right, she’ll go to the police or just make things worse.

Both of you moved at the same time.

It was as if everything was moving in slow motion, you saw him reach the device before you but your legs didn’t stop, your body crashed against him, tackling him on the ground.

The device flew from his grasp when his body hit the floor and you groaned.

He was getting ready to crawl towards the remote control when you grabbed the chain.

There was a small moment of hesitation as you wrapped the chain around his neck and pulled it with full force.

Here we get a glimpse of the similarities between the siblings. They’re both ruthless but in different ways .This is her HAVING to hurt Junpei to run away because she knows he won’t let her go now. Not when she tried to get away and betrayed his trust. Yet the brother is ruthless and hurts people for his own entertainment.

The guy’s body stilled, going completely stiff as his hands went to his neck, trying to dig under the chain to pull it away.

You only had to hold out until he passed out, you could do this. Just keep pulling. Keep pulling.

One of his hands reached forward, trying to reach the device.

You pulled harder.

His fingertip managed to touch the remote control.

You planted your feet on the floor to pull the chains, it was enough force to knock him out, or at least that was what you had thought.

Before you knew it, an indescribable pain ripped down your spine. Your grip loosened around the chain and you crashed on your knees and hands but then electricity tore around your body, leaving you spasming on the concrete floor, unable to grasp anything as the electricity zapped through each nerve you had.

It felt like minutes until it stopped.

Your body continued spasming as the guy crawled on top of you with his fist up in the air.

The moment his fist met your face, it was hard. Your whole body jolted from the pain and you bounced off from the concrete. The impact left you even more dumbfounded than the electricity that had zapped through your body.

You felt another punch and then another until finally, he stopped.

He yelled in frustration and pain. You couldn’t tell what he was saying but all of the words were being said through his teeth, he sounded very angry.

This. The frustration and anger of her betraying him. Now, he’s the bad guy. He knows that is the impression he gave her. He’s just some creep who kidnapped and put out some cigarettes on her. Nothing else. He had thought they had a connection and that they could be friends or more if it wasn’t for the circumstances. He feels bad. He feels awful. However, he’s forgiving. It’s his fault and he can’t blame you.

Haha, perhaps now he had changed his mind and decided to not let you go.

Maybe if you hadn’t tried to escape, you would have been free tonight.

You heard the anklet’s lock click before you lost consciousness.

~~~

Junpei got scolded by his boss for coming in a half an hour late to work. He was told to work at the back yet again but he endured everything. Just like how he was enduring the pain around his neck.

You had crushed his windpipe, that was for sure. It hurt when he spoke but fortunately it hadn’t affected his voice. If he lost his voice now, he wouldn’t be able to work at all. He needed the money to pay for his rent.

Ahh, he was worried about the wrong things.

He chuckled to himself and his brows furrowed when his throat clenched from the pain.

Tonight, he decided, he was going to finish this tonight.

Still, he’s just an ordinary guy. He feels bad for the things he did and still wants to let her go. It’s burdensome, he cannot carry this guilt with him.

“Jun! Yo man, I’m leaving now!” His coworker entered the break room suddenly, startling him.

“Oh, alright. See you next week then.”

“Yeah, I closed the cash register and mopped the floors, so you can leave once you restock the cigarette displays!” He checked his phone screen and quickly turned around. “See ya, I gotta catch the last bus!”

Junpei didn’t even get to say anything as the guy left. He finished washing the dishes and walked back into the front of the store. Behind the counter, he started stocking the empty cigarette displays.

The sooner he was done, the sooner he could leave. He already had a day off tomorrow so everything would go according to the plan.

The plan is the same, let her go.

Well, Junpei was never that lucky.

The bell over the store’s door chimed, indicating that someone walked in the store. Junpei had thought it was his coworker who had forgotten something but then he heard the familiar laughter of the same three guys.

He turned around hesitantly as his bullies were leaning towards the counter.

The leader was smirking, “Yo, Jun. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

His boss had never installed security cameras and they knew that. They dragged him out of the shop after grabbing some cigarettes.

It was easy to guess where this was going.

“I had a terrible day, Jun!” whined the leader. “I need you to stay still so it’ll end quick, okay?”

Blood splashed onto the concrete ground when his fist met Junpei’s face for the fifth time. Junpei's eyes landed on the dark red liquid pooling under his feet.

“Woah, these brass knuckles are good!” One of the guys laughed.

“The guy who sold them to me said they hurt like a bitch.” The other one stared at Junpei being battered by their leader. “I’d say he’s enduring it well, if I were in his place I’d be bawling my eyes out.”

“Being punched by that guy is the worst, I’m kinda glad we’re friends.”

“Ew, dude. You’re gonna make me puke.”

The leader glowered at Junpei and swung his fist with everything he had. He drove his knuckles into his face and put all of his weight into it until the squelch of tearing flesh and blood spattered across his knuckles.

Junpei’s body could not take it any longer, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He was out cold in seconds.

~~~

Rage.

That was all he felt as he was packing his bag.

All the thoughts he had, in the beginning, coming back.

He regains the hatred from the beginning, the way he acted without a plan. It is all coming back. He’s losing his mind, his sanity is nonexistent.

He wanted to make that piece of shit regret his entire existence. He wanted to make sure that fucker couldn’t walk out into public without feeling ashamed and scared. He wanted to make him suffer for a lifetime.

Junpei was seeing clearly now.

His plan had been the only right way from the beginning. He couldn’t believe how he wavered from his own resolve just because some girl was playing innocent. You were the same as your brother.

You had to be.

Her desperate attempt at getting away and her seeing him as nothing but a bad guy is now being seen as just the two siblings being the exact same to Junpei. They are the same. He hates them, he won’t feel bad anymore. The brother’s face is overlapping with sister’s.

None of it mattered anyway.

What mattered was the end result.

And Junpei knew he was going to get the result he wanted nevertheless if it meant he would lose a piece of his humanity.

He finally is insane. His humanity is gone. He isn’t calculating anything, only acting on impulse.

~~~

With a sudden bang the door opened, it made you jolt as you were eating one of the melon bread the guy had bought for you.

I wanted to bring it to attention that he still bought her food, snacks even. To make her comfortable. He’s caring or used to be. He tried to prove to her that he wasn’t a bad guy.

Your ears were ringing as you stared at the guy walking inside with a backpack. He was shaking violently.

He was wearing the gloves as usual but his face was bare. Well, for the most part. It was covered in bandages that were bleeding through and the rest of his face was swollen.

His appearance sent a fierce shudder through your body because you knew who had done this to him.

She can see it. The insanity. Her brother turned him this way.

Your lips had barely parted to say something when he was hastily walking towards you with a deranged look in his eyes.

This isn’t the same guy who kidnapped her. He is ruthless and she is sure he’s actually going to kill her now.

You kicked on the mattress to get away but he took out the familiar device from his front pocket. Your hand went to your neck, the collar, it was still on.

Before you could register anything, electricity struck through your body, leaving you spasming on the mattress.

“You know, I was still planning to release you even after what you did.” He started digging through his bag. “But your brother made me change my mind. You really should thank him for that.”

He hadn’t realized how you couldn’t hear him at all from the shock coursing through your body. Once he saw you frothing at the mouth, he turned the device off to crawl on top of you with his video camera pointed at your face. “Good thing that I’m weak, your face is still recognizable.”

Funny if not miserable. He’s happy he couldn’t ruin her face even though he had put his whole weight behind the punches he threw at her.

You stared into the camera lens and then at him.

Panic started to course through your body.

“Please,” you begged, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, you didn’t do anything. You had nothing to do with me and I had nothing to do with you. This is just about your shitty brother.”

“Please…”

“Stop crying, it’s annoying.” He squished your cheeks together with one gloved hand until your lips puckered, continuing to film everything at the same time. “But I’d say your crying face is really erotic.”

You sobbed, tears streaming down your face.

“Yeah, that’s the face.”

He gets it now. Why people bullied him and why people like to see others cry. It makes you feel superior, invincible and it’s erotic for someone like him. In his mental state right now, it’s just sexy, he wants to ruin her.

He let go of your face and pulled out the box cutter from his back pocket. “Don’t move,” he warned and you didn’t dare to. He sliced your bra right from the middle, this time, the tip of the blade cut your skin.

Now, he’s not as careful as before. When he was first cutting her clothes he tried not to hurt her more than he was going to, he was even scared that he was hurting her but now. It’s different.

You yelped in pain and blood started oozing out from the cut. Pressing his finger where your cut was, he pulled the skin down, making more blood gush out. You watched in terror with wide eyes as he filmed the blood streaming down from your chest to your stomach.

“Okay, now tell the audience your name and age.” He returned his attention to you.

He was going to show this to others. This would count as evidence.

“My attacker has dark hair and dark eyes, he is-”

She thinks she’s going to die and desperately tries to warn whoever is watching so that he’ll go to prison.

“Introduce yourself nicely or I’ll have to make it hurt.” He pressed the box cutter’s blade against your cheek. “I will edit this video and post it later for everyone to see if your brother even comes close to me.”

It’s clear that he’s going to release her and use this as blackmail. She only noticed this when he said it like that. She has to convince him to stop.

“I’m the one with a reputation,” you whimpered, “Please, it’s got nothing to do with me. Please.”

“That’s why you’re here,” he scoffed. “You have nothing to do with this. You’re like me! You did nothing wrong other than existing in this timeline! If only your brother wasn’t a douchebag narcissist, you wouldn’t be here!” He was yelling in your face, you were trembling in fear, completely unaware of what could happen in the next second.

This isn’t the same awkward kidnapper from the beginning, not a trace of his old self is present.

You felt the cold metal of the blade moving down your body until it met the fabric of your panties. He slashed the fabric, giving you another small but deep cut on your hip.

“I feel so sorry for you,” he said but his tone didn’t match his words. “So sorry. You’re so weak and defenseless. Weaker than me. Oh, I feel so sorry for you.”

There are two ways you can interpret this or maybe more but these were on my mind. I usually leave it to my friends when they’re reading our screenplays to decide what I was going for the scene and this is exactly the same.

One actor might play it as a miserable guy who is pitying the helpless girl he’s going to rape because that is the only way to hurt a woman in his mind and hurt the bully in the worst way possible because she’s going to hate her brother for putting her in this position.

It can be said in a tone that's mocking yet still full of pity.

Another actor could play it as a man talking to himself. What he’s seeing is like looking at a mirror, this defenseless girl under him is just like him and he’s still trying to regain some of his humanity back but it’s too late. He has already taken a step forward he cannot take back. The voice is cracking like a call for help.

He tore the rest of the fabric off of you as he panted in excitement.

That’s the part why the tone of his voice not matching what he was saying doesn’t make sense. You realize this guy is actually insane. He’s not some normal ordinary guy anymore.

“I understand why your brother enjoys it so much now! I feel like a God. You’re at my mercy and you will take whatever comes your way because I have the power. If only you were a little stronger! Ahh, you’re so pitiful, it must be so unbearable!”

You get to see more of his insanity in just three paragraphs. He’s acting conflicted or maybe actually conflicted but this… things he said here are real. He is honest.

You froze, unable to do anything but watch in horror, he was so deranged that it was frightening. He had actually lost his mind.

“(name)!” he yelled, holding the camera up to your face, “Introduce yourself so we can begin! It’ll be just like a movie! First the actress’s name and the title screen!”

“I-”

“Speak up!”

With trembling lips, you introduced yourself, arms covering your chest as he was filming you.

“Be honest, (name), are you a virgin?”

A sob.

Ahh, the clueless girl finally gets an idea of what he is going to do to her.

“I need an answer.”

A nod.

“Ahh, you’re going to be my first as well. How miserable!”

Your eyes widened and you started crying harder.

Mocking and actually miserable. He’s wording it like they’re two lovers before calling it miserable. Even though he’s the one with power right now, he still feels equal. They are the same.

He put the box cutter back in his pocket and placed the video camera next to your head as he reached behind him to grab his bag. He searched through his bag until he found what he was looking for.

Smiling, he took out a cigarette from the pack and placed it between your lips. “I’ll light it for you,” he whispered. The cigarette was shaking along with your trembling lips as he lit the tip. “Inhale.”

You inhaled and the smoke filled your lungs, the nicotine calmed your senses slightly until you had to exhale.

He took the cigarette away from you once it was fully lit.

“Open your mouth.”

“Noo-”

He forced his fingers in your mouth to pry your jaw open. Holding your tongue tightly between two gloved fingers, he pulled the muscle out forcefully before pressing the lit tip down on your tongue.

You heard it sizzle and the pain was indescribable.

Do not try this lol

It actually makes those bubbles on skin kinda thing with water inside or idk if it was. It makes it hard to eat anything other than room temperature soup and you can only drink water for ehh, 2 weeks.

Your hands reached out to his arms, trying to scratch at his skin but it was futile, he was wearing a thick sweatshirt.

Letting your tongue go, he pushed the cigarette inside your mouth.

“Chew.”

Tears blurred your vision, it worked in your favor though, so you didn’t have to see the dark amusement in his eyes as the tobacco leaves exploded in your mouth, absorbing the saliva and leaving your mouth dry.

“Swallow.”

You shook your head, there was no way you could, there was no-

“It’s not that hard. Your brother made me eat it a couple of times before.”

He relented when you shook your head again. His eyes landed on the water bottle he had left for you earlier and reached for it. Opening the lid, he poured it down your face.

The liquid that managed to get inside your mouth helped you spit out most of the leaves but not all of them. While you were busy coughing, Junpei unbuckled his belt. He was staring down at you, watching you struggle with some dark amusement, and the dangerous glint in his eyes made you tense. You defensively squeezed your legs together and watched him pull his pants down just enough to let his hard cock bounce free.

You found yourself violently trembling as panic coursed through your body. There was no will to fight left in you, exhausted and so in pain, all you could do was lie still.

“Calm down,” he assured, caressing your cheek. “What we’re gonna do next won’t hurt physically.”

He reached for his bag again, taking out something you didn’t recognize. “Ahh, this?” Noticing your stare he held it up for you to see, “It’s a condom, I don’t wanna leave any evidence.”

It’s fucking scary to be told this. That’s it.

At that moment, you wished your brother would drop dead wherever he was. You wanted him to die in such a miserable way that he would suffer even after death.

Idk if you know but porn is kinda illegal in Japan. They cencor it so if they get sued they can say that they were ‘pretending’ to have sex or they were just acting. That’s why her reaction is normal. It’s not only about being raped, it’s about losing everything and getting arrested. She won’t be able to get a job because this will end up in her report and they won’t think of this as rape. There are way too many fetish porn being filmed in japan, this can simple be one of them. That’s what’s so scary.

Aside from that he just told her that he didn’t wanna leave any evidence. She has no idea if she’s going to live or not. He can kill her right now and make this into a snuff movie. He’s just so unpredictable.

Rolling the condom down his cock, Junpei grabbed the video camera pointing the lens at your face. He was being extra careful to not film himself. “Anything you wanna say to the audience?”

“...”

She’s scared. Lost the will to fight because she’s going to get hurt nonetheless. He’s not filming himself because he cannot leave any evidence. She cannot fight back even if she wants to.

You laid there motionlessly as he placed himself between your legs, moving them until he got comfortable and filming your bare pussy.

He pushed a gloved finger inside and twisted it around before pulling it out. He filmed the clear fluid coating the latex on his finger with a smile.

Junpei put a hand on your thigh, spreading your leg wider and pulling you towards his hips until his cock was looming over your crotch.

Proceeding to film you, he placed his hand on your bleeding chest. He covered his fingers with the blood and used it to smear it around his cock. The condom turned an ugly orange as the plastic rubbing on plastic made a disturbing squeaking noise.

He ran the tip of his cock across your slit and pressed it against your entrance, filming it closely as he pushed himself inside of you.

You tensed and yelped as his cock tore your hymen. It continued stretching your virgin walls until his entire length was buried in your pussy.

For a brief moment, Junpei stilled, he took a deep breath to adjust to your virgin walls squeezing him before he started to move.

“W-wait.” Your tongue felt foreign in your own mouth, it was swollen, most likely bleeding as well.

He listened or you thought he did. You thought it was over, finally, the torture was over- but you didn’t realize the wicked smile on his lips.

Junpei pulled his hips back and slammed into you abruptly. Your mouth opened in a silent scream as he set a pace for himself. His eyes were on your tits, they moved each time he moved his hips, it was almost as hypnotizing as watching his cock disappear into your body.

The pain of your hymen being torn past forgotten, your toes curled involuntarily at his cock stroking a nice spot.

“Stop, please!” Having your tongue being swollen made you sound weird like you were slurring.

“Why? Why should I?” he laughed, voice full of mischief as he lifted the camera up to your face. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

Blinking past tears, you turned your face away.

He laughed louder at your reaction before asking a question, “So, how does it feel to be fucked by some loser your brother likes to bully?”

He snapped his hips forward to force a moan out of your pretty lips. Junpei mercilessly humped your pussy, forcing your walls to take the shape of his cock. “Does it feel good?”

You sobbed loudly. “No-”

He cut you off by pounding into your pussy, forcing another moan out of you. “Come ooon, say it feels good!”

“No,” you cried.

“Say it feels good!” he yelled into your face.

“It feels so good!” you croaked in fear, sobbing uncontrollably.

Junpei stilled only for a moment, he stared at you in admiration and used one hand to push your leg to your chest. He buried his cock deeper inside of you, quickening his pace and fucking you frantically, putting his entire weight behind each thrust.

Your walls clenched around his cock and almost immediately he came inside the condom, dropping the camera from the way his orgasm took over his senses, leaving him trembling.

You didn’t remember him pulling out of you nor did you remember him unlocking the anklet but there was a phone being held up to your face now.

It was… your phone.

“Hellooooo?”

A familiar voice was laughing.

This part. This was the plan.

At that exact moment, you felt furious, rage filled all of your senses and you wished he was right in front of you so you could stab him with a knife, rake the blade repeatedly along his neck and let him die bleeding.

What you felt wasn’t only rage and anger but murderous intent. You wanted to kill, something you never thought you would feel like you would lust after at any point of your life.

Someone as passive aggressive as her wanting to murder someone, kinda ironic and poetic. Junpei made that happen, he’s proud of it.

“(name)? What’s up? How are the hot springs with your friends? Ya having fun?”

Junpei was smiling as your face contorted into something vile.

He did it. He broke her.

You pressed your lips together and spoke through your teeth to sound clear. “You pathetic piece of shit.”

I wanted to use curses and vulgar language in this scene because it’s just so incredible how much she blames her brother for everything that happened here. It’s all his fault, Junpei made sure to make her think that way. She believes it.

It got quiet before your brother’s tone softened. “Did something happen?”

“I wanted to believe that there was good inside of you but I guess I was wrong.” Your voice was clear and understandable but your entire body was buzzing with hot tremors of rage. “You’re a fucking disgrace, I hope you die. Die, die die! Kill yourself before I kill you myself, you hear me?!”

Heartbreaking to hear someone you deeply treasure talk to you this way. It’s the worst possible punishment. Junpei did it. He won.

“(name)?” His voice wavered as if he was ashamed. How cute, he was already feeling guilty. “I don’t know what happened but you can always talk to me if your friends are causing you a problem-”

“The problem is you! Die! Die! Die! I want nothing from a pathetic excuse of a brother like you! The problem has always been you, I will never forgive you not until I watch you die miserably, not until I watch you get lowered in your grave!”

You were panting by the time you were done.

“Where are you?” he asked hesitantly. “I’ll come to get you right now, it doesn’t matter how far away you are.”

The brother is so desperate to make everything right. Whatever that happened to his sister that he’s not aware of does not matter. He wants his little sister back. She’s the only thing he treasures and we know this. If he loses her, it’s over for him.

“I don’t wanna talk to him anymore, get the phone out of my face.”

“Is there someone with you?” your brother quickly changed his tone to sound more masculine. “Tell them to give me your address.”

You see how quickly he changes? He cannot show that loving and caring side because he feels inferior. He must be the best at all times.

Junpei leaned forward to speak to the phone with a sinister smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll call her a taxi in the morning.”

Silence.

A gasp.

“Jun?”

“Yeah?” Junpei couldn’t hide the smile in his voice.

Can you imagine the way he must feel? The bully comes to realize that his sister is with the guy he battered on the daily. The guy he humiliated every single day.

“I’m going to kill you,” he hissed. “Whatever you did to her, I’ll do it to you-”

“Oh, I did everything you did to me to her. Don’t worry about that.”

“I… I am going to beat you to death.”

“Alright, I’ll post your sister’s sex tape now then. It has her face and everything. She even says her name and age, how gullible is that?”

It took your dumb brother a long moment to realize how he had been chased into a corner.

“But I bet he doesn’t care, right, (name)?” Junpei was laughing hysterically. You didn’t answer. “He’s so selfish after all!”

“What do you want?”¨

The brother is helpless. The bully cannot win. He has lost everything. By that I mean everything. The thing he treasured the most and now he’s guilty, he feels the guilt he has never felt before. He only realized his mistakes after he lost the thing he loved the most.

He had finally won.

Junpei sighed dreamily before he answered honestly with his eyes landing on you.

"I already got what I wanted."

Here, some people interpret it as him winning the girl for some reason??? Lol he meant it the way she hated her brother and helped him get the revenge he desperately wanted.

~~~

Living a life without the fear of being constantly battered by a bunch of losers was nice. It was quiet and peaceful, as expected.

It was worth it.

Junpei was happy. He had even gotten himself a girlfriend. Someone gullible and weak.

She stayed. There might be many reasons. But not a single one is romantic. It could be because she wants to punish her brother even more and this is an act of self harm.

It could be because she thinks they’re the same and she doesn’t hold him accountable for the things he did. It’s now his fault because it was his brother who forced him to do it, right?

It could be because Junpei blackmailed her.

And many more.

My favorite interpretation and the reason she stayed is that she feels attached to him. They went all through that together, she knows he is insane but who isn’t? They both lost their humanities in that warehouse. They both lost their innocence in there, they became lifeless and learned how similar they were. No matter how toxic and unhealthy it is, it’s enough to sprout a false sense of security and bond between them.

They’re together because they’re the same. Broken and outspoken.

The revenge was sweet, being the victor of a fight for power made him more confident and less of an outcast.

ALSO here is the ending I had planned but didn’t post. TW for suicide

This was the ending I had before but my editor said it was too dark and it would be better to leave the ending open so the readers could interpret as they wanted.

“What do you want?”

He had finally won.

Junpei sighed dreamily before he answered honestly.

~~~

Living a life without the fear of being constantly battered by a bunch of losers was nice. It was quiet and peaceful, as expected.

Junpei was happy.

The revenge was sweet, being the victor of a fight for power made him confident, less of an outcast.

It even got him a girlfriend.

“Did you hear?” you asked, grinning.

“Hear what? Even the neighbors heard your moans from the other night-”

You hit him jokingly and intertwined your fingers together. “He tried killing himself again.”

“By hanging?” he asked curiously.

“Slit his wrists horizontally and bled out slowly until one of his roommates found him,” you hummed, pouting. “Meaning… You owe me twenty bucks.”

“Ahh, dammit. Where did you hear that? How can I believe he didn’t hang himself this time?”

“I got a call from the hospital.” You stuck your tongue out walking closer to him. “They asked me to visit him.”

“You’re gonna?” He raised a brow, his expression on his face was terrifying. The answer to this question was important.

Sweat droplets started forming on your forehead and you chuckled nervously, not wanting him to hate you. “I don’t wanna.” You quickly started dragging him down the street, “Come on, we’re gonna miss the movie.”

“They always play the trailers in the first ten minutes-”

“I have to buy snacks with the twenty bucks you’re gonna give me!”

Your laughter was like music to his ears. Junpei let you drag him wherever you liked as his mind was clouded by his thoughts.

He wondered when would that guy actually find the courage to do the easiest thing anyone could ever ask him to do. He better kept his promise if he wanted Junpei to keep his.

Junpei almost laughed thinking about what kind of face your brother would make if he found out that you stayed with him because you were both the same, that it was you who chose to stay.

Ahh, that would be a funny sight to see.

Lmao very funney. The way how they just trying to get revenge on the brother and waiting for his death and literally betting on it. It’s childish and insane but that’s how they are. The brother made them become this way.

NSJhbleujh,bgf,

Anyway yeah, that’s it.

I love this fic.

Last Words

Writing this was fun, it’s my favorite fic I’ve ever written or at least so far. I had fun playing around with Junpei’s personality and trying to ‘justify’ his actions. I was proud of myself for writing a conflicted protagonist, conflicted because you don’t know if you’re rooting for him or not.

Also, the piss scene. It was the money shot. The fucking money shot man. I was literally trembling as I wrote it, the personalities, the tension and the way they both interpret that interaction as two different things. It was the first raw interaction between them.

This is the song I listened to writing Junpei. It’s The Ballad of Costa Condordia by Car Seat Headrest. Amazing song for a character who’s going insane slowly. An outcast being bullied and losing their will to live, wanting to die and missing the good old days when they didn’t need to worry about anything but what mom was cooking for dinner. It’s my own theme song if not Junpei’s.

Anywayyyy, I don’t think I can ever write anything as good as this or enjoy writing something as much as this.

That’s it, thank you for reading!!!

#munkey commentary #should we make this a thing?

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hollandorks · 2 years

Note

Ohhhh shit…lemme just tell you Tumblr wanted to keep this chapter away from me because the app kept crashing. But finally I’ve read it all. Hopefully the app won’t crash while I’m writing this.

I loved Bruce’s pov in the beginning. I love how desperately he wanted to beat the shit out of James (god I hope that’s the name, I’m so bad with names) and he had to convince himself to not break into his home and wreck his shit. In hindsight, I bet he regrets that BIG time. If he would’ve broken in maybe she’d still be safe.

Speaking of which, I love that he thought of her basically the entire time he was outside his home. How angry Bruce is about the situation she’s in. How she keeps putting herself in danger because he was the one who wanted information. Their kisses. How she figured out it was him. I love that he was like “she’s obviously smart” because she is. But Bruce, I feel like anyone who really thought about it could figure out it was you.

Him finding her in his bedroom and him just being like “oh, I’m soft now.” How he wanted to brush the hair off her face, but didn’t want to wake her. So instead he just covered her up with a blanket and slept on the floor beside her, facing her. So sweet. So soft. It makes me emo.

Also of course his room is cold. It makes sense. I don’t think Bruce Wayne knows how a heater works if I’m being honest. He seems like the type of character to be like “I’m cold? Oh well” and then just suffer through it. What a dude.

I love that she wasn’t immediately embarrassed that she slept in Bruce’s bed and he knows about it. I like how it hit her in the shower how embarrassing the situation is. In the shower. That’s where I realize how embarrassing my life is too.

I’m gonna skip ahead.

I may not have been right about Marie but I was right in my thoughts about the drug. Sure it may not have been in injection, but I knew the drinks were not being drugged. I count that as a win for me. ALSO how even when drugged the girls are aware of their surroundings and what’s happening to them? I knew it! I remember thinking “what would be angsty” and thinking of that. Perfect. I know she feels extra bad for Marie now. Knowing that Marie knew everything that was going on around her. Marie probably had hope that she would be saved. Especially after knowing Batman was involved. I bet she knew when that gun was held to her she’d die. Poor Marie.

They really are like mindless zombies. James full on punched her and she didn’t even move. Yikes. I love that as she was heading upstairs she looked at Lena who was not looking at her. I wonder how many of the other girls looked around for help knowing they most likely wouldn’t get it. After all, it seems that everyone minds their own business down there.

Also of course that fucking bouncer is part of it. He probably lets them know who would be a good target. I hope Bruce beats the ever loving fuck out of him.

I just know having Bruce in her ear must be comforting for her. It’s probably the only thing that’s keeping her from completely losing her mind. He’s there. He knows what’s going on. He promised to save her. Despite her failure with Marie (which, bestie, that was not your fault) I bet she’s clinging onto that promise.

I bet Bruce is stressed as fuck seeing what the drug does first hand. He even tried to help her by giving her an instruction. I wonder if you have to see the person giving it to you in order to follow it? He’s struggling. He knows the only thing he can do is save her, and I bet his failure with Marie is weighing heavily on his mind right now.

Also it’s a trap? I love traps! I wonder if they’ll try to drug him. My mind is honestly frazzled with this chapter. I’m really at a loss of what’s gonna happen next. I’m assuming Bruce is gonna go apeshit but I feel like that’s a safe bet when she’s in danger.

I loved chapter 18 and I cannot wait until chapter 19! You’re updating every other day, right? Well on Saturday I will be glued to this silly little app waiting. Much love!

🦇

***CH 18 SPOILERS***

Of course he regrets it! He's just a big ball of angst so obviously he blames himself for everything ever 😂 even if it isn't his fault, it is. And yes I 100% see him just being like "it's cold? I'll suffer." Like have you SEEN that bat cave?! I bet it's always cold and damp down there but half the time he's down there in the movie he's shirtless.

And yes I always always always remember embarrassing things in the shower. It's like magic. I step into the water and my brain is like "oh man remember that dumb thing you said 3 weeks ago? How embarrassing!"

Can you see now why I just simply avoid talking about certain parts of your asks? 😂 Because yes, you nail it--just think what would be most angsty and you can get pretty close to guessing what I'm going to do 🙈

This whole chapter is basically just poor Bruce. Like he's probably freaking the fuck out, poor guy. I mean the reader is too but Bruce I think has it times a million.

But yes next chapter coming Saturday! Going to try and update earlier in the day again. However, I'm also helping my parents move houses, so it really depends on if that turns into a disaster or not 😅

Thanks as always for the feedback!!! I don't even know you but I love you. That's how much these asks mean to me 😂

#asks #anon #motn spoilers #🦇#🦇 anon

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lalahbug · 4 years

Text

Guidance - Zuko x Reader Chapter 3

Fandom: Avatar the Last Airbender Word Count: 4,140

My Masterlist

Warnings/disclaim: General Author’s Note: under story ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.

Story under cut, 3 of 8, Guidance Masterlist

___ and Zuko had stayed and helped everyone in the village for about two weeks. The Long’s seemed like they’d be okay without any more outside help with Reo being grown. Fay had an infection that ___ was able to heal. But today was their last day, as ___ went to say her farewells to everyone, letting them know she may not be coming back, moving to another area. The farewells were long and sorrowful for the villagers, but ___’s smile never

��While the time there was full of learning and hard work, Zuko couldn’t be more pleased with his progress in being helpful to his girlfriend. He even earned the pendant from Himari, which was safely hidden in his backpack, identical to ___’s. They got money and supplies for both of them to be on the road for a while. Even sold Gray to the Long’s to ensure they wouldn’t need to worry about the feed. As permanent goodbyes wrapped up, Zuko took ___’s hand and started to walk beneath the afternoon sun. After walking for a while, Zuko could feel the earth vibrating beneath him, and from the glance, he stole at ___’s face, he could tell she felt the same movements. She pulled him into nearby bushes before looking up at the sky with a shocked expression. Zuko followed her eyesight to see the Avatar’s bison falling out of the sky before crashing to the ground, all the happiness he’d felt for the past few weeks was muted as he glared at the group of kids in front of him. The squeeze on his hand brought him out of his stupor. He glared at her for a moment before seeing the confusion and worry in her eyes, dropping his own to the ground. ___ pulled him a little further away from the gang as the girls started to fight. Before whispering to him. “The ground is still trembling, whatever it is, it’s not an animal. It’s likely a machine, do you have any idea what it could be?” Zuko thought for a moment thinking of the weapons of war at the Fire Nations disposal. What would they send after the Avatar now that Zhao was gone? “Azula.” “Okay. So, your sister is behind this but I doubt she’s the machine. But it’s likely a Fire Nation vehicle of some sort. We should lie low and wait to figure out our next move.“ “What do you mean wait and figure it out? There’s my chance of getting back home.” He gestured to the Avatar. The anger and pain that stroked across ___’s face alone almost sent him reeling. She pressed her fingertips to her temples rubbing them exhaling angrily. “I could go home; we could live in peace and luxury.” Zuko pleaded with her now. “What peace?” She spat. “Your peace of home meaning the suffering and deaths of more innocent people, especially if the Avatar is gone or locked up or whatever you plan to do if you happen to catch him.” “Me going home and earning my honor and the throne back means one day, I could end the war and release the Avatar too.” ___ stood up fuming at his selfishness and ignorance. She closed her eyes tightly trying to not explode at her love. She knew he still didn’t know who he was, he still felt the need to prove himself to his toxic family. “Please, ___. Come with me, don’t leave me.” His second plea broke her heart and tears started to fall. “This is wrong Zuko.” She cried softly before cupping his torn expression in her hands. “But I’m here, to love and guide you, just please,” she begged. “Promise me, Aang doesn’t die, and try to surprise me with the goodness I know is within you.” Zuko hugged her tightly. It felt so right and wrong to be able to keep his understanding girlfriend in his corner no matter what. But he didn’t have the strength to leave her behind and be alone again. “I promise.”

They followed after Azula on her mongoose-lizard, Zuko wanted to ignore the small glances his love kept giving him, but a sense of worry she had made him not say anything. Reaching a small abandoned town, Azula and Aang were talking. ___ took off her backpack and stretched her arms. “What are you doing?” Zuko questioned while discarding his bag and putting it next to hers. “Making sure my shoulders aren’t stiff, we’re about to fight, it’ll be better if I’m limber.” “No,” Zuko hissed, putting his hands on her shoulders. “This is my fight; I just need you here emotionally. I know you can protect yourself and you’re an amazing fighter. But Azula can shoot lighting, and the moment she realizes that you’re with me, she would use you against me in no more than a blink of an eye.” ___ glared at the dirt, knowing what he said was true. “Fine, but if I think you or Aang needs help, I will be there. This may be your fight but I won’t allow either of you to die.” Zuko knew that was the only way he’d get her to stay put and decided to not argue her stipulation. “Okay,” he agreed before kissing her gently. “Stay here as long as you can.” She nodded and with that Zuko ran off towards the brewing battle. Hiding between two old buildings, ___ watched them fight. Zuko was right about one thing. The only thing he truly knows is fighting and he fought with bewitching smoothness. She could barely look away. But she had to, to keep an eye on Aang as well. She was getting tense as the fight went on, when Zuko fell on his back, she was about to rush over when she saw Iroh and the rest of the Avatar’s friends show up. She knelt, watching intently, closer to the opening of the alley, unknowingly inching out again and again. But her twitching feet moved towards the group quickly as Azula struck Iroh with lighting. Rushing to his side she quickly started to try and heal Iroh, the explosion behind her barely registered in her mind as she focused on the glow. ___ glanced at Zuko as he kneeled next to her, the distressed look he had was twisting his face. Katara tried to speak but he lashed fire at them telling them to leave. After a few more tries at healing Iroh, she let her hands drop. “I’m sorry I can’t do better,” she whispered to Zuko. “I’m just an average healer.” He didn’t reply, he just focused on Iroh’s face which seemed to relax a bit. She patted Zuko’s shoulder tenderly before getting together materials around them to shape a gurney to carry Iroh.

The next morning Iroh awoke and Zuko explained what happened, but ___ was asleep in the corner exhausted from healing, cleaning, and cooking. While Zuko watched over Iroh. “Who is this?” Iroh gestured to the sleeping figure in the corner, with a gentle smile. “Oh, um,” Zuko blushed softly. “That’s ___, she healed you a bit before helping me carry you here. She’s my girlfriend.” “She’s a waterbender? From the North Pole?” Zuko nodded. “Why isn’t she home, safe from the war?” Zuko took a deep breath before explaining her story and including her trip to the spirit world. “She must feel conflicted being with a man who believes he needs to capture the Avatar.” “Yes, but somehow, she loves me and supports me nonetheless. She just asked me to promise that Aang doesn’t die. And that I surprise her with the good she knows I have. She seems to know something about, that she isn’t sharing. Like she knows the cause of my internal conflict.” “Hmm, she is wise and has been through a deal herself. It would be unwise of you to doubt statements that come from her.” Iroh eyed her for a moment, silently thanking her for being there for Zuko. “She looks exhausted, you should lie her down properly. Sitting up to sleep isn’t very restful.” Zuko nodded and got up to lay down a blanket on the ground before laying her down carefully. He stared at her rested features for a while, something he’d grown to love doing and accustomed to. “What is that delicious smell?” Iroh chimed. “___ made some soup and prepared some tea, before passing out. Would you like to try both?” “Of course!” Zuko stroked ___’s cheek gently before standing up and getting some soup and tea for himself and his uncle.

___ hummed softly to herself, trying to wake up, but the comfort of sleep tried to lull her. Huffing out softly she forced her eyes open and sat up, to find she was alone. Curling up softly from her makeshift bed. “Zuko must have laid me down,” she whispered with a smile playing on her lips. Stretching and getting up, she headed outside to find her love. Only to see him and his uncle doing movements like waterbenders. She raised an eyebrow at it before turning to make tea for all of them.

A few weeks had passed and they were now in Misty Palms Oasis. Zuko was waiting for his uncle to come out of a room, leaning against some wall. ___ was softly sketching some of the flowers in the room before glancing over at Zuko, noticing he looked more sullen than usual. “Babe?” She called out softly. “You okay?” “I’m fine, just bored of waiting,” he huffed. She walked over and stood in front of him. “Are you a bit upset because it’s members-only?” He huffed softly, not giving her a yes or no, but a soft smile spread across her lips, and he knew she’d figured it out. She pulled his arms free from the cross they’d been in. Pulling him into her arms and resting her head on his shoulder. He sighed before wrapping his arms around her securely. “You know me too well.” “I just pay attention. If you want, we can hug for a while.” He cleared his throat, “um actually…” he trailed off. She pulled back a bit to see a faint flush on his cheeks. “Oh, sorry did I make you uncomfortable?” “What? No, no. I actually would like to sit down, with you, in my lap.” He mumbled the last words. ___ heard him clearly though and stepped back so he could position himself on the floor. She debated mentally how to sit in his lap without making him nervous. Zuko sighed a bit, seeing her apprehension, and grabbed her hand to tug her down to him. He didn’t say anything but kept adjusting her until she was sideways with her shoulder to his chest and legs spilling over the side of his thigh. Pulling her into another embrace, she rested her head on his shoulder. “We were sitting like this, sort of, while riding Gray, when we became boyfriend and girlfriend.” “Maybe that’s why I wanted to hold you like this. It brings back good feelings.” “The main difference is now; we both know that we love each other.” “I still don’t know why you love me,” Zuko mumbled. She sighed softly, “it’s been hard for me to explain, I keep telling you that. But I have been thinking about it and I think I might have it now.” Clearing her throat, a bit before cuddling into him more. Drawing light circles on his chest with her fingers. “You accept me for me. I don’t have to hide. You let me be myself, no matter how sassy or hard-headed I am. It feels amazing to be loved by you. And I see how you’ve had to fight to learn and succeed, but you never give up. I believe in you so much, because I know whatever comes at you, you won’t give up. You’re smart and thorough. And I just have this wonderful feeling when I’m with you. I feel at peace, without even meditating. Like I can just trust you, I could lie my life in your hands, and know you’d do everything to keep me because you actually want me as I am.” Zuko’s heart was hammering, he’d been wanting this answer for so long, and now that he had it, he was grateful and speechless. He could feel himself tremble with the passion and love she confessed to him. He pushed her up a bit before pressing his lips to her forehead tenderly before invading her lips and mouth. Earning a softly moan from her, his hand traveled up to the back of her neck. Tilting her head back and deepening the kiss, she pulled back softly with a pant. “I love you, ___.” “I love you, too.” While staring into each other’s eyes the door to the room Iroh was in opened, causing both of them to jump and sort themselves into an upright position. “Sorry to interrupt your moment but we’re ready to go.” Iroh chuckled at the young adults’ flushed cheek. "Everything is taken care of,” stated Iroh’s friend. "Where are we going?” ___ asked. “We’re heading to Ba Sing Se!” “Ba Sing Se? Why would we go to the Earth Kingdom capital?” Zuko demanded. “The city is full of refugees. No one will notice 3 more.” The friend chimed. "We can hide in plain sight,“ Iroh said with hope. “I’ve got my passport; I’d just need to buy a ticket. But what about both of you?” “Don’t worry about it, my dear. Our good friends have provided us with 3 passports and tickets. Mushi, Lee Jr, and ___. My dear nephew and his wife. I didn’t know your last name so I gave us all the same one.” Iroh laughed as Zuko started to blush at the word wife. Iroh knew of Zuko’s small secret, the engagement pendant he had, and kept hidden at all costs from ___. “Uncle, you can’t just expect us to act married!” “You’re already dating, just be more open about it. It’ll be fine!” Iroh smiled lovingly at the two, as Zuko just burned more. “I don’t think it’s a big deal. If anyone we don’t know ask, we’ll just say we’re together, no reason to give them a label. I doubt anyone will care about our last names or status, other than employers, maybe. We’ll be safe, that’s what matters.” Her complete disregard of the situation as she calmly picked up their bags, dumbfounded Zuko while Iroh chuckled at the sight.

Walking through the streets of Ba Sing Se, while Iroh held a potted plant which Zuko was giving an annoyed glare. “We have a lady with us, we should spruce up our place!” “Iroh, that’s so sweet of you, but you don’t need to spend money for my sake. Let’s just settle and do our best.” “I don’t want to make a life here.” Zuko spat. “Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not!” Iroh chided. ___ grabbed Zuko’s hand and entwined their fingers. “Hey, at least we’re all together and we’re safe. Right?” Zuko stopped his moping for a moment before smiling at her softly. “Right.”

A week or so had passed while the three of them worked diligently at the tea shop Iroh got them jobs at. Zuko had been less expressive in his emotions other than anger, ___ tried talking to him, but he wouldn’t open up. Zuko was working in the back with his uncle while ___ waited on tables and brought back orders for them. “Another jasmine tea, please!” She called out before placing a note on the counter with the order and table number. Iroh chuckled as she seemed to be enjoying herself. “She really loves to help and serve; I find it admiral.” Iroh placed a previous order of tea on the counter with the corresponding note. “Lee, I don’t mean to pry. But it feels as though you’ve been avoiding her lately. Even though she doesn’t bother you or voice her worry anymore. It’s very easy to see under the façade she’s using in public.” Zuko huffed and glanced up at ___ who was talking with customers and taking orders. She looked happy without him. “I can’t place how I’m feeling, but when I see her like this, it makes me angrier.” Iroh looked over at ___, although she seemed happy if one paid attention along enough. They would see the way she shot glances of wariness at Zuko and the soft sigh she’d exhale on the way up to the counter. “I think if you watched her, the way she watches you, that anger might dissipate,” Iroh whispered to Zuko as she approached them. “It’s so busy. I blame you, Mushi,” she expressed with a fake sigh but a small smile followed afterward. “Doing what I love and giving great tea to others is not something I’ll apologize for!” Iroh smiled back at the young woman. “Babe?” ___ called out to Zuko. “What?” he looked up from his task to meet her worried eyes. “Are you okay? Do you need to take a break? We could take one together.” Offered with a smile, making him look back down at his task. “I don’t need a break, I’m fine.” “My offer still stands, let me know if you change your mind.” Iroh’s heart pinched at the fretful look she gave Zuko before glancing at Iroh, asking with her eyes to watch out for Zuko. Iroh nodded and she left with a fulfilled order. “Lee, look.” Iroh gestured with his chin at ___. Zuko looked up just in time to see ___ looking at him with heartfelt concern. The look melted his heart as their eyes met and then she blew a kiss at him with a wink before returning to work. “She loves you and your apprehensive mood has made her worried. She’s always stealing glances at you. Whatever anger you have, I hope this knowledge helps you.” Zuko kept his eyes on his love, “it does. Thank you, Uncle.” “I believe the anger you felt, was jealousy. I think a date night would be beneficial to both of you. I will be out late tonight. I’ll be paying Pai Sho with some nice fellows in town.” Zuko nodded, before taking his eyes off of ___. “What should I do for a date night?” Iroh chuckled at the anxious look his nephew gave him. Before starting a plan for the couple.

“Goodnight you two. I’ll be home late.” Iroh waved at them. “Be safe!” ___ called out after him, she turned to Zuko with his favorite smile. "Would you like to head home? I can make some congee and some hot chocolate.” "No,“ he blushed before moving the picnic basket out in front of him. "I thought we could go out too, do a small date.” The look of shock and blush that ran through her cheeks gave him more courage, he offered an arm to her. "Shall we?“ He gave her a soft smile as she took his arm and they started walking.

Upon a small hill, the couple smoothed out a blanket to sit on along with the contents of the basket. Some iced tea and appetizing sandwiches along with some snacks. They sat down together, closely, leaning against each other. ___ watched the lights of the city and would occasionally look up to the stars then towards the bush line. "You seem,” he trailed off a bit. “Distracted.” "I’m just enjoying your company while we eat and I look around. I haven’t been to this spot before.“ She sat up a bit to get a drink before settling against Zuko again. "I’m sorry I’ve been so distant lately. I guess I was jealous, seeing you be happy with customers, without me, like you don’t need me.” "I don’t need you, but I want you more than anything. We should live and grow together, be able to be dependent on one another when needed. But I don’t want either of us to be codependent, as that’s not healthy for a relationship if it goes on too long.“ "So, you love and want me, but don’t need me?” He furrowed his brow not really understanding. "I do need you, but as emotional support. I want us to love another without losing who we are in the process. If life and time allow, I would want nothing more than to be able to be close to you, hold your hand, as we both live out the rest of our existence.“ Zuko hummed a bit in reply understanding a bit more, she wants him forever but still wants to be independent too. "So best friends for life with the emotional bond of love and passion. My lover, my best friend, my forever.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek gently. “I love you, Zuko.” His heart was hammering the moment she said, lover. She’d never called him that before. Although they’ve only been passionate a few times and never made love, she still saw him as her lover. "How can I be your lover when we haven’t been intimate?“ "I don’t know about you, but I don’t see myself ever being with another person. No matter if we ever have intercourse or not, it honestly doesn’t matter to me.” "You don’t care to have me, sexually?“ He whispered; he felt a bit hurt. "Not at the risk of making you uncomfortable or making a mistake.” She whispered back; he could hear the anguish in her tone. "You still worry about that?“ "My last relationship was only physical, I have impulses sometimes, and I can’t let them ruin this, I love you too much. I can’t lose you because I fucked up. I just can’t.” She whispered before kissing his cheek softly. “So I’ll wait forever if I have to.” "So, you put all the pressure of making first moves on me?“ "No, if you say you want me to do something, I’ll do it. I just don’t want to assume anything or push you too soon.” Her words hung in the air. Zuko didn’t suspect that answer and he didn’t know what he wanted. How could he know what he wanted if he’s never experienced it before? "There is one thing I want.“ He wrapped an arm around bringing her as close as possible. She leaned against him fondly. "Name it.” Zuko’s confidence plummeted as her voice rang in his ears. “Uh, well, I can’t name it, it’s more of a question or um I have some to ask you.” He stuttered over his words and a heavy blush covered his face and he moved away from her a bit before facing her more directly. "Zuko?“ She questioned as he fumbled onto one knee tapping his pockets before quickly presenting the pendant, he’d kept from her. For what seemed like forever. ___’s eyes went wide, she knew this necklace and she could already feel herself tearing up. She kept glancing between the necklace and Zuko’s golden eyes as he held it delicately in his hand. "Will you be mine? Or um, will you marry me, someday?” Zuko watched her as she situated herself onto her knees and gently brushed her fingertips over it. She closed his hand into a fist and held his wrist. She finally met his eyes; he could only see her tears before she rested her forehead against his closed fist. "I’m not good enough for you.“ She sobbed softly. "You’re trying to do things right; I would be all of your first and all of your last. But I can’t offer that back to you.” Zuko smiled softly as the love and sorrow rolled off her. "I’m not good enough for you. I’ve done some really bad things in my life. If you’re willing to accept me. I would be honored to be all of your last.“ He brought her head up gently with his fingers under her chin. When their eyes found one another, he opened his fist again. "Will you accept me?” He asked softly and she sobbed before tightly wrapping her arms around his neck. Embracing each other. She finally whispered a yes before kissing him deeply then rested the top of her head onto his chest. Zuko was trembling as he moved her hair out of the way and fastened the necklace around her neck. Once he was done, she sat back, the tears had stopped. But she glowed with happiness as the tears still glistened in her waterline. Under a crescent moon, he couldn’t help but smile at her. And never before this night had he noticed how barren her neck looked without his necklace resting tenderly on her skin.

Author’s Note: After this chapter, smut, drama, angst all starts. So this is the fluff you get for now to cushion the ride to come. If you’re uncomfortable with smut, angst, cock warming kinks, this might a good place for you to stop and just let the happiness and fluff be.

#fanfic #fanficition #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko x reader #zuko/reader #zuko fanfic #zuko fic #atla fic #lalahbug #lalah writes #guidance series #reader insert #xreader #self insert #fire lord zuko #firelord zuko

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dydra · 4 years

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Thanks for the 100 followers, guys!! Enjoy!

Memories (Chat blanc)

Marinette was acting strange the last week, everyone noticed.

She wasn't as cheerful as always, but the smile she gave them when they asked make them believe that they were just overthinking, that she was okay and she just went to bed late dissing, as always. But Adrien knew that smile really well, he used it every interview and photoshoot he'd had.

That smile was completely empty, it only hide pain, and loneliness. And the fact that Marinette was using it, terrified him.

What could have happened to make her feel that way? Whatever it was, he wanted to let her know that he was there for her, that she wasn't alone. He wanted to hug her and erase the pain and the tiredness from her eyes. He wanted to be a good friend.

He shook his head trying to concentrate in his biology class, but he couldn't.

She didn't talk to Adrien much, they weren't close friends. And with Chat... were they close enough for him to ask her about her personal problems? He dropped by sometimes when he does alone patrol nights to buy some pastries and they usually talked on her balcony about akumas, hockmoth or food, nothing too personal for neither of them.

He wasn't sure if she would answer, but at least she would know he's worried about his friend.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>

It all started that night.

A week after... that day, Chat visited her, like he normally did, for pastries. But as soon as she saw his face, she remembered.

"Everything went purr-fect until hockmoth found out"

"It was our love that did this to the world, m'lady "

Blue cat eyes was the only thing she could see at that moment.

She prohibited him to visit her.

Maybe that's what hockmoth found out? His visits. She knew she would fall for him if he kept visiting.

Would Hockmoth had used her to threaten Chat? No. She couldn't let that happen.

After he left her balcony confused and hurt, she did what she hadn't stopped doing all week: cry in her bed until she fell asleep with Tikki by her side tryingto comfort her.

It all started that night.

Chat noir didn't understand anything. He didn't expect her to kick him out and order him to never come back.

Did he do something wrong? He just wanted to help. How could he help if she didn't want It?

He knew he should have listened to her. She didn't want him near, then hen why was the point to stay? He didn't know, but when he heard her crying and sniffling, he was sure he couldn't leave.

He would be there for her... even if she wasn't aware of it

It all started that night.

She'd had nightmares about her partner before. They were usually about their fight, and their conversation. Sometimes he said more hurtful things to her, others he just stood there and watched her with no emotion in his eyes and then proceed to try to try to kill her(In a strange and creepy way, she liked them. They were like some kind of justice, it remained her that what happened was her fault and that she would never make the same mistake)

But this time... this time it felt different.

She wasn't ladybug as normal, she was still with her pijamas.

Why was she at the Eiffel Tower?

Paris was still destroyed, but not flooded by the ocean like she expected.

The she felt it: Desperation. Sadness. Impotence. Fear. Guilt.

"No... No, no, no, no!" She heard "My lady... no..." the masculine voice broke. She recognized it as soon as the nickname came out of his mouth.

In front of her, were the blue eyes that hadn't left her head all week.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" He said to the ladybug dust statue with tears falling from his eyes. " I didn't mean to– I didn't wanted to–" his voice broke once again. He extended his globed hand with the intention of cuddle her cheek, "Please don't leave me, please. I love you..." as if his legs could no longer support his weight, he fell to his knees.

She felt her heart broke, then ran towards him with the intention to hug him. But as soon as she touched his shoulder, she tripped and then felt how her body passed through his. As if she was some kind of ghost.

"Wha–" she watched him perplexed from the floor

What was going?

Meanwhile, in the other side of the city, Lila was frustrated. She had spend all week trying to get everyone's attention. She faked being hurt, she lied about a some celebrity contacting her, she even lied about someone in her family dying! But nothing happened. All of the class was more interested in the sudden change on the litte rat's mood. (Something that Lila would be enjoying if it wasn't because she got all the worry and attention)

Her phone buzzed again. She had more messages from the group chat (one that she made made without Marinette in it with the excuse of her disliking Lila)

'Even Adrien asked me about it! He was really concerned about her' Lila read a message from Alya

'Really? Do you think he likes her?' Myleene asked

'I hopes so! Marinette still has a crush on him. They would make a cute couple!' Lila's blood boiled when she read what Rose texted

She gave an exasperated cry and threw her phone across her room. He should be concerned about her suffering for the death of her family member, not for the stupid feelings of a nobody!

Then, her anger and frustration increased at the same moment she heard a familiar voice in her head.

"Oh poor girl, of course your friends should have been more interested in you than in that boring girl "

Lila smirked

"Hockmoth..."

What was he doing? He had no idea.

He was sitting on her balcony hearing Marinette crying while still asleep. Should he wake her up? Should he leave? Should he hug her?

No, she prohibited you come back. He repeated himself with sadness.

He heard a crash

"Marinette Dupond-Chain!" A voice yelled.

An akuma...

Why would someone be upset with Marinette? She hadn't do something wrong to anyone!

He needed to take Marinette somewhere safe. Without hesitation he entered her room, took her in his arms and jumped across rooftops away from the new villain. Within a couple of minutes, Marinette was fully awake.

"Ch-chat bl– noir?" She asked unsure and containing the argue to cry and hug him tightly.

"An akuma is after you" he explained quickly without looking at her. He didn't wanted to see her anger and disappointed.

They landed on an alley

"Stay here, ladybug and I will handle this." He said still with his eyes away from her "I'll tell my lady to take you home when all of this is over"

He extended his baton ready to leave when her voice stopped him.

"Chat!" She called him "I didn't meant to–" he finally looked at her, but she didn't. Playing with her fingers seemed more interesting "I didn't meant to sound so rude earlier. I just think that you shouldn't have any contact with a civilian while you are in your suit. It's dangerous. For both of us"

He trusted her, he really did. But he knew that wasn't the only reason, there was more. Still, he wouldn't ask about it, not yet.

"I know " chat noir gave her a small smile when she lifted her head, and then left ready to fight the akuma.

Marinette sighted. And looked at her red kwami (she was lucky the tiny goddess woke up and followed the cat superhero when she heard the crash)

"Come on, Tikki. That cat needs our help"

At least now a have a good excuse of why I couldn't sleep. Marinette thought. She knew that after that dream, she would have be awake all night with or without akuma

I don't want to get emotional, but I really never thought I would get this far, I was super nervous when I posted my idea for the gods au. I hadn't expected so many people to like it!

Thanks to everyone for every like, reblog and comment, it really warms my heart when I see a notification from tumblr. I really appreciate it😁💕

I know there's nothing special about this fanfic, but I'm a sucker for marichat, and chat blanc is f*cking perfect. So I thought it would be a good idea to mix two of my favorite things and write this in celebration of the 100 followers 😋

P.S. If you have any questions about any au, fanfic or whatever, feel free to ask😌

P.S.2. Let me know if you think I should write more about it. For now it's just a one shoot, but I could try to write more if it's good enough

I figured you would like to be tagged when I posted this @squirrellygirlart

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml ladybug #ladynoir #marichat #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #marinette x chat noir #mariblanc #chat blanc #ml chat noir #mlb fanfic #mlb #marichat fanfic #ml chat blanc #adrien agreste

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petite-ely · 4 years

Text

Together

Pairing: JJ Maybanks x female reader

Warnings: mentions of social anxiety and other mental health issues, slight swearing and slight mention of underage drinking.

A/N: this story is mainly based upon my own experiences and struggles with anxiety and social anxiety. I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing mental illnesses. If you need help you can always talk to me or contact crisis hotlines. It gets better, I know it. (Also this is the first time I post on tumblr and I am a very anxious bby please send feedback, it would make me very happy, okay thank you.)

Summary: Reader has been suffering from social anxiety for a long time. One night, everything falls apart and she hopes nobody notices.

Word count: 1,700 ish

This represents y/n’s thought and this jj’s.

Picture found on Pinterest, all credits to rightful owner.

It was a typical Friday night in the outer banks, the pogues had organized yet another kegger and the party was roaring. Y/n was sitting on a hard lump of wood, enjoying the music and the dancing flames of the bonfire. You could even see a soft smile drawn onto her lips. She felt good.

That changed quickly. One minute she was fine and the next she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Emptiness. It was all she could feel. Like she was nothing but a large void. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and frightened.

It happened more and more lately. Small moments of disorientation where she couldn’t feel anything at all. These episodes usually happened when she was alone and didn’t last very long, but this time it was different. It felt much worse.

You’re so disgusting, and pathetic.

Not wanting anyone to see her in this state, she left silently, ashamed of herself. It’s not as though anyone would miss her anyway. She wasn’t very popular. She had friends, of course, but not that many.

There was John B, a friendly guy who everybody knew because, well he was John B.

There was also Pope, who was kind and smart, but that everyone knew because of his father Heyward’s business.

Then there was Kie, a cute hippie girl with a passion for environmental issues. Born a kook, but a pogue at heart.

And finally there was JJ, one of the best surfer in the Outer Banks. He was well known for his charm, being a pothead and his tendencies of getting into fights with kooks.

The five of them hung out almost every day and yet if you showed a photo of the group to an islander, they probably wouldn’t be able to identify y/n.

She was invisible, unseen. She was that one girl who was always with the four pogues. The one who nobody chose for projects. The one teachers never picked on. The one who no one noticed. She was nothing.

As she was sitting on the damp sand, small waves crashing onto her bare feet, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, tell the whole world how she felt, but no sound came out. She couldn’t speak. Only her breathing was heard. She couldn’t move either, and yet she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

“You better reuse that plastic cup Maybank, or I’ll make you eat it,” threatened Kie, after JJ placed his empty cup on the ground.

The boy rolled his eyes and threw the red cup at his friend. “Keep it safe for me, I’m going to find y/n.”

“She was sitting by the bonfire, like five minutes ago,” said John B.

“Well not anymore,” muttered the blond when his eyes landed on the empty seat.

JJ wandered around the boneyard, looking for his friend. A bad feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. So after looking around the boneyard for more than half an hour, the boy became more and more worried.

Biting off the nails of his hand, he scanned the crowd once more. Y/n and him had been friends since they were little and they knew each other better than anyone else. He knew that she would never leave a party without saying goodbye.

Where could she be, he wondered, taking his hat off to run his hand through it.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the small silhouette of his friend, sitting on the beach, away from the party. As he got closer, he noticed the shiny streams on her cheeks he remembered how distant she had been recently.

How she smiled less frequently and how she didn’t talk as much. How she didn’t eat as much and how her leg was always bouncing under the table. How her fists we’re always closed tightly and how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes and the nothingness in her gaze. It was like she wasn’t there anymore.

JJ’s face twisted into a sad expression. He felt bad for not noticing it earlier, like it was his fault. It pained him to see her this way, in such a distressed state.

He sat next to her, making her flinch in surprise. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?” She wiped her tears away and nodded her head.

“Y/n, please don’t lie.” His voice was small and full of empathy, like he felt the same way she did.

So pathetic, even when doing nothing you’re hurting your friends. How could anyone love you, she said to herself.

“I- uh I-“ she tried to speak but failed, choking on her words.

Panic filled the girl’s mind as she was suddenly aware of what was happening. Her heart tightened in her chest and pain shot up in her rib cage. Her hands were shaking even more and her legs felt numb.

JJ noticed how her eyes were filled with fear and how loud and uneven her breathing had become. She was having a panic attack. It had happened a few times before so he knew how to help her.

“Hey, hey hey,” he placed his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’re okay. I’m here with you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Now I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly what I say, can you do that?” She nodded, JJ gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay, good. Now every time you feel a wave crashing on your feet, I want you to take a deep breath and when you feel another one coming, you let it all out, “ she nodded once more.

They both looked down at the ocean and waited for a wave to come. “In,” the wave left the shore slowly and came back a few seconds later. “and out.”

“good, you’re doing good. In and out. That’s it.” JJ’s hand was now tracing small patterns on the back of the girl’s back, so softly she could barely feel it. “Now I want you to talk to me, can you do that for me?”

Her breathing had now slowed down to a regular rhythm and so had her tremors, but she had terror spread across her face.

“I want you-,” he paused wiping away with his free hand the tears off of her warm cheeks, “-to tell me three things that you can see right now.”

“I-“ she shook her head in denial, “no.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay you can do it y/nn.” His voice was warm and so reassuring. Just hearing it helped her calm down.

“I- uh I can, I can se see the ocean,” her voice was shaky and weak.

“Huh uh, keep breathing.”

“and um the uh the-the stars,” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath, her hand reaching out to his. The blond boy flinched at the contact, her skin was freezing cold.

“I-I can also see your eyes,” she finished, her voice sounding smoother and more confident.

JJ offered a warm smile, “good, now tell me two things you can hear.”

Y/n broke the eye contact and started a tte ocean, concentrating on what she could hear. “I hear music playing from the party and uh the waves crashing.”

She was no longer crying or shaking but JJ kept going. “ Name one thing you can feel.”

“Only one?” He shook his head in agreement.

“Your heart,” she stared into his eyes, “I can feel beating in my hand.”

“Good.”

JJ looked away silently. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he didn’t. Instead he remained quiet and admired the star shining above his head.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “It’s just that lately, it’s like I can’t feel anything at all-“ she wrapped her arms around her knees, “-it’s like the only thing I care about is what others will think about me.”

“Don’t wear that skirt, people will think you’re a slut. Don’t say anything or they’ll think you’re annoying. Did you see them, they’re laughing at you, shouldn’t have said anything. Did you really say that? Ugh you should have let somebody else talk, what a waste of time. He didn’t answer you? Well that’s because he hates you. There’s a party? Don’t go. Nobody likes you anyway, they’re just gonna judge you, they hate you.”

“Y/n, you know none of that is true, we do love you.”

“I know, but I can’t help it! I can’t stop it. And I’m so tired of feeling that way. I just want it to stop.” A single tear rolled down on the side of her face.

“Oh god, y/n.”

“I’m so dumb. I’m here talking to you about my little problems, but you’ve got problems much worse than mine. Jesus I’m so stupid.”

JJ looked at the girl next to him. She looked so small and vulnerable. He could see the pain in her expression and it hurt him so much. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he was afraid of breaking her. She looked so fragile.

If only she knew how loved she is.

“No y/n, you’re not stupid or dumb. It’s not because I have a shitty life and a jack ass for a dad that your problems are not valid. You’re living something really intense and scary right now but I can assure you that I understand. We’ll get trough this together okay?”

They were both crying messes at this point, but neither of them cared anymore. The small girl opened her arms to boy beside her. Through her gesture a message was hidden, and JJ understood it perfectly. He held her tightly against his chest. Her tears were wetting his shoulder and his were falling onto the messe that was her hair. Her hands were grasping firmly that soft cotton of his sweatshirt, afraid he would let go.

“Don’t let go of me, please,” she implored. “I don’t want you to leave me, ever. I can’t do this without you J.”

“I won’t y/n, I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“We’ll get through it, we’ll get you help and we’ll survive this together, okay?” A sob left the blond’s mouth. “I promise, okay, I promise.”

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter ten: the kind of love we gather

word count: 7.5k

rating: m for mature

warnings: there is an interaction with an abusive ex-husband that eludes to physical/domestic violence. also, i think it's fair to warn against joseph himself--whatever argument there is to be had about the sincerity of his feelings, there's a few times where it feels like there's definitely some emotional manipulation happening.

notes: this is an interlude chapter, a little flashback/prelude going through isolde and joseph's relationship--or, at least, a significant part of it (still some secrets to be discovered!). i've had this chapter drawn up for a while and i thought this would be a great cliffhanger/changing point in the story to give their relationship and their dynamic a little more context, so i hope that's alright with y'all!

some of you folks who follow me here on tumblr may recognize a part of this chapter as a smut oneshot i wrote for them; that was the alternate universe to this instance in time, which is firmly rooted in their canon. lmao

it should go without saying that i have yeeted canon out the window for all of ancient names and witching hour, and the way that the seed brothers were pre-reaping and hope county is subject to much the same.

—Before—

The first time that Isolde saw Joseph, she knew she was in for it.

If he had been any other man, she thought, it wouldn’t have been so clearly a disaster waiting to happen. She would have been able to crash and burn with him as she pleased: but he wasn’t just any other man. He was John’s man, his older brother, the one that he tried so hard to live up to and impress. She had only heard of him in passing, but that was all it had taken. Isolde knew exactly how John felt about him.

“Who is that?” she asked, when she spotted the cleanly dressed man across the room. The office was dimly lit with the lights lowered; people mingled and chatted, drinks in hand, as everyone celebrated that they’d been able to move into a nice, new office downtown, with a whole floor to themselves.

John’s gaze followed hers. His expression flattened. “Stop it.”

No fun. Isolde feigned innocence. “Stop what?”

“That’s my brother Joseph, Sol,” he hissed. “Do not try to fuck my brother.”

“You have a couple, don’t you?” she asked. “What’s the one?”

“Fuck off.”

She sighed, taking a sip of her drink. Just her luck. A Seed boy, and yet, so fine. What a waste. “Fine, Johnny,” she said, patting his shoulder. Across the room, she saw Joseph’s gaze land on hers as he politely smiled at one of the other partygoers, and then stay locked, right on her. “I won’t fuck your very hot brother, who is very plainly making eyes at me from across the room.”

“He’s never had great taste in women.” John grimaced. “Off-limits, Isolde, I mean it.”

“Scout’s honor.”

So much for that, anyway, she thought later, when Joseph crossed the party and made his way up to her. He was even more handsome up close, and though long hair wasn’t typically her type, it looked good on him, pulled back and slick. Just enough to look polished.

“You’re Isolde?” Joseph asked, and his eyes swept over her. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Are you the authority on Isoldes?” she replied. She arched a brow loftily at him. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of an expert.”

“Well, it’s just that John rarely complains about beautiful women,” he countered easily, the flirtation slipping so seamlessly from his mouth that she might have missed it. “They’re his greatest vice. Yet, he complains incessantly about you.” He paused. “I’m Joseph, his brother.”

That did sound like John. Isolde wrangled a smile, leaned comfortably back against the wall as Joseph sidled over to her. With him in front of her, he almost completely eclipsed out the rest of the party, like he’d suddenly bubbled her and it was just the two of them in the entire room. He was so very good at that—with his eyes on her, it felt as though nobody else in the entire world existed.

“I’m flattered,” she murmured, “that I’ve managed to break John of his greatest vice.”

“I did come to thank you for that.” Joseph’s mouth ticked up into a smile, almost playful, if the rich timbre of his voice wasn’t so soothing. “And for taking good care of John. He’s a...”

Isolde watched Joseph through her lashes. He had no alcohol in his hands, but kept them tucked easily into the pockets of his slacks; he held himself without the easy arrogance that John carried himself. It was more like Joseph knew, exactly, his place in the world, and so didn’t feel the need to assert it. It simply was.

“Handful,” Isolde supplied.

“That’s a good way to put that,” he agreed. A quiet moment stretched between them—an easy silence, and she got the impression that it was going to be like this with him; no pressure to fill the silences—before she shifted on her feet.

“So, how are you going to do it?” she asked him, taking a sip of her drink. Joseph’s gaze, which had drifted to where John was chatting with Jacob and another guest, flickered back to her. The inquisitive tilt of his head followed after, and when she didn’t supply further questioning, he didn’t bother smothering the amused little smile on his face.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Thank me.”

The smile didn’t quite leave his face yet. “Didn’t John give you the same speech about how off-limits we are to each other?”

“Well,” Isolde relented, “whatever is he going to complain about if his brother doesn’t take me out for dinner? I’d be failing him as his vice breaker if I didn’t keep my game fresh.”

“Is that what I’m doing to thank you, then?”

Joseph’s voice was a low, rich sound, rumbling straight through her, vibrating in the cavity of her chest. She thought, instantly, that she’d like to know what it felt like to have him say her name into her skin. Isolde’s lashes fluttered; she hummed thoughtfully and polished off the last of her wine.

Dinner isn’t sex, she reasoned. So technically, I’m not really breaking John’s little agreement.

“It’s an option,” she offered after a moment. And then, in an act of what John would surely describe later as pure spite for his well-being and mental health: “Though you’re welcome to do more, if you feel inclined.”

This finally (finally, a part of her said) elicited a laugh out of Joseph. His eyes slipped from hers, lingering on her mouth before pulling away to the rest of the party, almost reluctantly.

“Tomorrow,” he said after a moment. “Are you free?”

“Technically I’m working,” Isolde drawled, “but lucky for you, I’m the boss and I can make my own hours.”

“Lucky, indeed,” Joseph replied amusedly. “Six, then.”

“And don’t tell John,” Isolde said, as though making a pact. The man inclined his head a little, reaching up and sweeping a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made a low noise of agreement.

“And don’t tell John,” he reiterated. “Yet.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I asked you for one thing, Isolde!”

John was, as to be expected, upset.

“That’s not true,” Isolde defended, busying her hands with gathering up a few files and tucking them into her bag. “You ask me for a million things, every day. Namely, tolerating your ego. Not to mention keeping your head from exploding every time someone pays you a compliment, and—”

“You know what I mean.” John exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his temples as though Isolde had inspired in him the greatest of headaches. She hoped that she had. It would be the least he could suffer, after all of the brainpower she had to expend on the daily to keep him in check.

Leaning back in her chair, Isolde said, “It was just dinner, John.”

“Do not pretend to be stupid all of a sudden,” John snapped. “Joseph does not date around. He doesn’t ever do something that’s just dinner."

"Funny," she mused, "it feels like that's exactly what it was. Eating food together, at a restaurant, during the evening."

John’s head cocked to the side. He leveled her with a singular pointed look and said, “Oh, yeah?”

She squinted at him. “Yeah.”

“Is that so? Then what did you do after dinner, Isolde?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall as he waited for her answer. She kept her face wiped clear of emotions even though John’s question instantly inspired in her a flurry of memories; Joseph, snagging her hand on their way out of the restaurant, leaning in and kissing her; and kissing her, and kissing her, keeping her pulled close against him until she thought she was going to go dizzy from it all.

And then, well—

“We’re two consenting adults, John,” she said at last, and he threw up his hands.

“I explicitly said not to!”

“Yeah, well!” There was no good excuse; she knew that. The excuse was that Joseph was incredibly attractive, and Isolde had wanted him, and so that had been the beginning and the end of it. Still, she kept her eyes on the paper in front of her. “I made that agreement before I got a good look at him. John, I’m actually trying to get some work done, so if you could—”

John scoffed. “One, Joseph is related to me, so of course he’s hot, and two—you’ve got the impulse control of a toddler. I hope you know that.”

He pushed off from the wall and started collecting his things to leave her office; a blissful departure, to be sure, but there was something sitting and stinging in the pit of her stomach that wouldn’t let her leave it to rest.

“Rich,” Isolde said demurely, “coming from the man who can’t stop an endless chain of making-up-breaking-up.”

His movements paused. He stared at her for a long moment, before he said. “Hey, Isolde?”

“Yes, John?”

“Fuck you.” John’s movements resumed to the door. “Fuck you, and see you in the conference room in twenty.” Another pause, and then thrown over his shoulder: “If you’re not too busy letting my brother—”

“Alright, point made!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “It’s really not anything serious. Okay? It was just dinner and a date, that’s all.”

This had him stopping again, paused in the doorway with a bit of frustration welling up in his voice when he said, “You don’t know my brother, Isolde.”

“But I know me. Alright?”

He sighed. “Yes, alright. Twenty minutes, then.”

For a moment, it felt like things had been settled between them. John was still young, she thought; younger than her, and the baby of his brothers, which she knew meant he held on tighter to things that maybe he needed to all the time. Too tight, or too loose, to make it hurt less when something didn’t work out.

But the peace only lasted for a moment, because a few minutes after John had settled back in behind his desk across the hall from her, their secretary came around the corner, her arms filled with a fragrant bouquet of lilies.

“Ms. Khan, you have an admirer!” she exclaimed delightedly. Isolde met John’s eyes across the hall, staring at her with an expression that could only have been described with the phrase I told you so. “It looks like they’re from a gentleman named Joseph S—”

“Thank you, Laura,” Isolde interrupted, clearing her throat. “You can set them on the table there, I’ll find them a vase.”

Laura nodded and smiled, laying the bouquet delicately on the coffee table and then making her way out of the office. Isolde left the flowers untouched for about an hour, unable to stand the thought of John catching her keeping them alive (because she would never hear an end to it), but it was killing her a little bit. She had mentioned once, in an off-hand comment, that she didn’t like the typical flower bouquets like red roses or carnations; lilies were her favorite. One tiny comment, and this was the result?

There was only a note with the flowers. It said, Hoping John isn’t giving you too much trouble. Be by at six for you.

It felt a little treacherous; just enough to make it a bit harder to look at John with a serious face and not burst out laughing at the absurdity of their situation. Thankfully, close to the end of the day John made the dramatic announcement that he thought he was going to kill himself if he had to spend even another second sitting across from the elaborate bouquet.

“I’m going to go home,” he said, shrugging into his coat, “and try to retain at least half of my brain cells.”

Isolde hmm’d. “So just the one, then?

“Ha-ha. Goodnight, Sol.”

“Have a good night.”

It seemed like there were only a few moments of quiet between John’s departure and Joseph’s arrival, though in reality it had been a few hours; focusing felt like a chore, like it took a little extra work to get through the depositions she had to prepare and the emails she had to answer.

Just dinner, she thought. Just dinner and a date, and whatever happened after. And just one more date tonight. Not a big deal; adults go on dates all the time. I’m an adult. It’s fine.

But it wasn’t just that, because she was sure her heart rate had plateaued at a solid one hundred and ten since Joseph’s I’ll pick you up from work text. Because Isolde wasn’t the kind of woman who took a man back to her place on the first date, and yet.

By the time Joseph did swing by to pick her up, John had been gone for a few hours and she’d gotten almost no work done, instead completely consumed by the predicament she’d planted herself in. It did break the rules to date Joseph. No business and pleasure, first and foremost. Normally, Isolde would have considered herself a woman of incredible discipline, able to turn down temptations of varying degrees—but when Joseph rolled through her office door with those stupid, hot yellow aviators on his face, she thought maybe she had overestimated herself.

“You look tired,” Joseph said lightly, brushing some snow out of his hair. Isolde’s expression flattened.

“Thanks, Romeo. ‘Hi, Isolde, how was your day?’ ‘Oh, just fine, except for your brother throwing a baby temper tantrum every five minutes’. ‘You poor thing, Isolde, but you have to tell me how you manage to be so exceptionally beautiful still’.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t look beautiful still,” he replied. His eyes followed her as she walked around her desk, having slid her coat on and collected her purse; they stayed trained on her all the way up to when there was no space left between them, until he was gazing at her with amusement dragging his mouth into a smile.

She said, lightly, “You didn’t say I was beautiful at all, actually.”

Joseph reached up. Though the room was empty of everyone except the two of them, somehow it still felt special when he looked at her—it still felt like nothing else in the entire world mattered to Joseph in that moment except for her. The pad of his thumb brushed her lower lip, his gaze drinking her in, admiring and hungry in equal amounts.

“You are,” he said, his voice low, the timbre of it rattling something animal inside of her. “Beautiful.”

Kiss me, she wanted to say, because he was so close and yet seemed to refuse to actually finish the job. She didn’t think she could have mustered the words even if she wanted to; Joseph was a wildfire, eating up all the oxygen around her, sucking it right out of the air until there was nothing left but for her to feel swallowed by it.

“I wasn’t entirely truthful with you, the other night,” Joseph continued, dragging his thumb from her lip down to her jawline, “when I said that John’s greatest vice was beautiful women.” He paused, his head tilting. “They’re mine.”

Isolde’s lashes fluttered. She glanced up at him, and she said, “Well, that’s not the greatest sales pitch for yourself. How many red flags should I be looking for?”

He laughed and brushed his lips against her temple. “I get the feeling you won’t miss a single one.”

It shouldn’t have been quite so endearing, his casual reference to any red flags that he might have. Even his confidence that she’d pick them out (she would; if finding red flags was an Olympic sport, Isolde would have been a gold medalist) didn’t inspire the greatest feeling in her, though if she was playing devil’s advocate she knew that there were things about herself that didn’t make her so very well acquainted with healthy relationships.

“I’m glad I was able to come and pick you up today,” Joseph continued casually as they left her office and headed down the stairs. “It’s been snowing all afternoon. I’d hate for you to have to drive in this weather.”

And then he did things like that—uncharacteristically gentlemanly of him, to not want her to drive herself home in adverse weather. “I think I would have been fine,” Isolde replied. His fingers brushed hers at her side, snagging them and bringing them up to his mouth to kiss.

“Undoubtedly.”

It hadn’t been a lie, his remark about the snow. By the time they were pushing the doors to the lobby open, bidding the security officer goodnight, at least a solid foot of snow had collected and was pushed up against the lip of the sidewalk.

She grimaced. Winter was her least favorite season. Holiday cheer and Isolde Khan were not two concepts that melded well—not that she was a scrooge, per se, but with her only family halfway across the world and, on top, a tenuous relationship at best, it didn’t make Christmas very fun.

As they walked down the sidewalk, passing Joseph’s car in favor of pursuing a nearby restaurant, the blonde kept their fingers tangled together. The gesture was light, and didn’t demand anything, but it was enough to say something: I want you close to me.

“Does your family come here for the holidays?” Joseph asked lightly, disentangling their hands in favor of giving her hip a squeeze, keeping his hand there as they drifted into a warmly-lit wine bar. “I remember you saying they live in Turkey.”

So Joseph did just have that good of a memory. She’d have to be more careful about the things she said to him. “No,” Isolde replied, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere. “It’s too far. And I don’t go there.”

“Then what do you do on Christmas?” he prompted. He tugged a seat out for her at a spot farthest away from the door and then planted himself across from her, absently reading over the list of wines.

“This,” she said, gesturing vaguely. And then, in an effort to redirect, again: “You, if you’re around.”

Joseph’s gaze flickered up to hers from across the table. She could tell he was trying to stifle a smile. “You’d have to come all the way to Hope County if you had that penciled into your planner, Miss Khan.”

“Oh, Miss Khan, am I? We’re suddenly very formal with each other.” Isolde grinned. “And what does Joseph Seed, in Hope County, do on Christmas?”

“We haven’t spent many holidays together, but this year I’d like have a big family dinner on Christmas Eve, the handful of us.” He settled back in his chair a little, like he was getting ready to be there for a while. “Since John’s moved out here for work, Jacob’s been out of the country, and we only recently found each other again, we don’t get a lot of time together.” He shrugged. “And you, of course. If you’re around.”

Before she had an opportunity to respond, caught off guard by how easily he wielded her own flirtation against her, she felt a few bodies brush past their table and then pause, only to be followed by a dreadfully familiar voice: “Isolde?”

Something sharp and hot brought her pulse to a grinding stop—or it felt like it, anyway, like all of the breath had been sucked right out of her and she had ceased to be alive anymore, a cadaver sat up to play pretend like in those old photos. No, she thought when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, nausea welling up inside of her. No, I don’t want this, not right now.

“It is you,” Alec said, his voice blooming with warmth. “I thought I recognized you. I know you like this spot.” His hand slid from her shoulder and she felt, without even looking at him, the way he turned his eyes to Joseph. “Who’s your friend?”

“Date,” Isolde bit out. “He’s my date.”

Her ex-husband let out what she could only describe as a comical exhale of breath. Joseph was watching her, inquisitive but ever-so-composed, before he turned his gaze politely to Alec and offered his hand.

“Joseph,” the blonde said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The sight of the two men shaking hands made her want to puke. Everything Alec touched in her life was rotten, putrid—brimming with bile and spoiled, forever. She didn’t want it to be like that with Joseph, too.

Alec began, “I’m—”

“Alec is my ex-husband,” Isolde interrupted, her voice hard, punctuating each consonant of the words that came out of her mouth with violent intent.

Joseph settled back in his seat. Suddenly, Isolde was reminded that he had a penchant for remembering even the smallest throwaway details, and that she’d probably let him in on more than she would have liked about how her relationship had been with Alec without even saying anything. Yes, Isolde thought absently, her brain careening like a plane on fire as she watched Joseph fix his eyes on Alec, yes, he can tell.

“Fresh on the dating scene, and only six months divorced,” Alec remarked lightly, his infuriatingly handsome face the only thing filling up her peripheral. “I’m happy for you, Isolde.”

“So leave,” Isolde snapped. She finally looked at him, really looked at him, and naturally he looked perfect; dark curls, stubble neatly trimmed, eyes bright and amused. There were a few thin, gossamer scars on his face from the last time they were together— but he must have paid quite a bit of money to smooth those out.

He lifted his hands in a show of surrender, his gaze sweeping over her. Just that one gesture felt like a violation—she wanted to smash his face into the table and tell him he didn’t get to even look at her anymore.

“Good luck with this one, Joe,” Alec said, his overly-familiar use of a nickname that Isolde had never heard anyone use with Joseph sticking to her ribs like a heavy dinner. “She’s a wicked little thing.”

“I think I’ll be fine,” Joseph replied serenely.

Alec paused; his gaze lingered on her neck and suddenly he was grinning. Isolde knew what it was he was looking at—a bruise, a remnant of the night before, left by Joseph.

“Yeah,” Alec agreed, “it looks like you’ve already figured out how to handle her.”

Who’s going to pity you? If you were me, you would have seen that you were begging for it. You fucking asked for it.

Isolde stood abruptly, the chair screeching against the wooden paneling of the floor. Sick, she thought, her stomach rolling. I’m going to be sick. “Leaving,” she managed out, only vaguely aware of Joseph also coming to a stand across from her, albeit more composed. “We’re leaving.”

I’m your husband, Isolde. It means it’s my job to keep you in line.

“Not on my account, I hope,” Alec sighed. “You’ve always been so dramatic. Anyway, Joseph—a pleasure to meet you, and—you know, call me if you need help with her. I’m always happy to lend my expertise.”

Everyone knows what it takes to get you under control, and I’ll tell anyone who asks.

She pushed past him, stepping around the table and clutching her coat and purse in her hands. There wasn’t time to put them on; there would never be enough time to get as much space between herself and Alec as she wanted.

I should have killed him, she thought viciously, taking in lungfuls of frigid air, snow dappling her face and sticking to her eyelashes. Right then, I should have bashed his fucking skull in.

Fingers brushed her arm. On instinct she startled, whirling to face the impending threat, half-expecting Alec to have chased her out into the street in an attempt to corner her—a thing that he had taken great joy in before, sweeping things off of the counter to grab and pull and rip—but it was Joseph. He waited two heartbeats before he reached again, his fingertips cradling the crook of her elbow.

It was a question: can I? Will you let me?

“I wish he would die,” she said, without thinking, the words spilling out of her like a poison she just couldn’t hold in anymore. Whatever information Joseph had gleaned about her tumultuous marriage with Alec made him unbothered by this statement; he tugged her closer to him, the hand not holding her arm reaching up to brush the pads of his fingers across her pulse point.

He said, “I know.”

“Joseph—”

“Isolde.” His voice was low, the words murmured against her forehead. “Don’t explain.” Because I already know, is what he meant. Because I already understand what’s going on here.

He tugged her coat out of her hands and pulled it around her shoulders. Bent like he was, leaned into her with something that she thought might be adoration, Joseph brushed their noses together. She felt tension flood her body; she was afraid that he might try to kiss her right then, of what she might do if he did while her body was brutalized by adrenaline, but he didn’t.

He just held her.

“Here,” Joseph said, taking her hand and bringing it to his neck until she could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of his pulse under her fingers. “I’ve got you.”

It should have frightened her. Joseph’s intensity was an intimidating kind, but in these moments, the intensity was required to cut through the panic. It overwhelmed her fried senses, the neurons firing rapidly stifled and swallowed up by the looming responsibility to recognize his closeness. The smell of his cologne, the bump of their noses, the feeling of his stubble under her fingertips, his hands closing the jacket around her shoulders. All of it meant that her brain could no longer panic, and had, instead, something to occupy itself with.

“Can you take me home?” Her voice felt small coming out of her, like it belonged to someone else. A different Isolde, at a different place and time. The girl she might have been or perhaps was before Alec.

Low, Joseph murmured, “Of course. Whatever you need.”

A sick, macabre part of her wanted to look back behind Joseph at the wine bar. It wanted to see Alec again—the way that you couldn’t stop yourself from peeking through your hands at the monster in a horror movie, the way that you couldn’t look away from a brutal car crash on the highway. Sick, she thought dizzily. He made me sick.

“Take me home,” she said, more firmly this time.

“I’m trying,” Joseph replied. His voice was so soft that she almost had to strain to hear it over the pounding of her heart. His hands came to her face, cradling. “You have to let me.”

Isolde nodded, swallowing back what adrenaline insisted on leaking into her brain. She hadn’t realized that she was bolting her feet to the floor, gritting her teeth against the gentle pressure of Joseph’s hands, until he said, you have to let me.

“Okay,” she murmured. He nodded and brushed the hair from her face. This time, his guiding pressure actually registered in her brain; when he nudged her away from the bar and down the street to his car, she moved, instead of digging her heels in.

When they reached the vehicle, he opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to climb in before he leaned down.

“I’m—” Isolde started, the words shredding in her mouth before they got out of her. I’m sorry, she wanted to say. “About—the bar, I—”

“I told you, don’t explain yourself,” Joseph insisted, tucking her hair behind her ear. There was something almost earnest about his gaze now as he watched her, her heart thrumming violently in her chest with a different mantra now. Same, it said, when Joseph’s fingers grazed her cheek, tilted her chin up. Same as us. Ours, too. He’s our kind.

“There’s plenty of people I wish were dead, too.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Shoes, clothes, charger, phone. No phone?

“Where did he put my phone?” Isolde muttered, searching through the suitcase on the bed. An array of clothing was laid out, but not yet folded; in fact, the only things that were packed yet were all work things that she’d have to take with her. Joseph would probably be furious—he had, in fact, specifically insisted that no work come on the vacation—but better than anyone he knew what it was like to rely on John for things. Which was that, if you liked things done to the standard that Joseph and Isolde wanted them done to, you didn’t rely on anyone else. Least of all John.

“Soli…” It was Joseph’s voice coming from the bottom of the stairs, not questioning but asking. Beckoning. You’re taking too long. “Dinner’s getting cold.”

“Where’s my phone?” she called back, pacing around the other side of the bedroom. “I’m trying to pack it up for tomorrow so that I don’t have to worry about it.”

A beat, where Joseph was likely collecting his patience, passed. “It’s down here. You left it on the counter.” And then: “Come eat, won’t you?”

He was doing that thing where he phrased it as a question and meant it as a statement. Joseph had learned, in a very short period of time, that she didn’t like when someone told her what to do; as petulant as it was, she’d buck against something like that desperately until it felt like her idea all along.

Isolde sighed. “Yes, I’m coming, Joseph.” One more up-and-down the stairs, ten more minutes of packing, and then she’d be content enough to sit down and eat.

“Full first name?” came the leisurely reply from downstairs. “My, you are in a mood tonight.”

Isolde busied herself with folding clothes, a smile fighting its way onto her face in spite of Joseph’s insistence that she was “in a mood”. She wasn’t; if he wanted to believe that, he was certainly welcome to, but she wasn’t in a mood. She was thinking.

So she put folded clothes over the work files and said, “Joseph, light of my life; the sun which my planet orbits; the fabric by which the stars are made…”

“This sounds more like the Isolde I’m used to.” His voice was closer now, coming from the doorway, and when she looked over her shoulder at him he said, “And definitely not coming to eat.”

“Do you go by Joe?” she asked lightly, dropping the last of her clothes in the suitcase.

Joseph wandered across the master bedroom until there wasn’t any space left between them; his hand came up to her face, trailing the slope of her cheekbone. “I certainly do not.”

“So, definitely call you that, then.”

“You are testing my greatest virtue,” Joseph replied, leaning down and kissing her. Just the once, though; long enough for her to want to lean into it, and not long enough to be satisfying. He pulled back just so far as to let their lips brush when he said, “Come sit down.”

Skimming her fingers along his chest, she asked playfully, “What are you going to do if I say no?”

The blonde eyed her amusedly. “John was right. You really don’t like being bossed around, do you?”

“How dare you say those words, in that order, in my presence,” Isolde murmured without heat. “You know I can’t stand to have someone stroking his ego by admitting he’s right about something.” A low laugh slipped out of Joseph and he carded his fingers through her hair, letting the pads of his fingers skim the back of her scalp as he kissed her temple.

She loved it. She loved when he did this; Joseph was so tactile, taking every opportunity to connect them through touch, like she grounded him. Like she was something precious that he wanted to enjoy every chance he got.

“You are the only one I’ll say something to more than once,” he said, his voice pleasantly low. “But luckily for you, I find your obstinance endearing.”

“If it helps,” she countered, “I don’t mind if you boss me around. Mostly. Why don’t you give it another try?” That wasn’t true. She did. But she liked the way it made Joseph’s ego inflate the second he did, even if it was for something stupid.

“Sweet girl.” His voice was a pleasant purr against her skin. “Always threatening me with a good time.”

This made her laugh. Joseph kissed the slope of her cheekbone, and then the corner of her mouth, his fingers sliding through her hair affectionately. She finally relented and allowed him to nudge her out through the bedroom door, making her way down the stairs. It wasn’t her first time going on a vacation with a… Friend of the romantic persuasion, but it was her first time going on vacation with a friend of the romantic persuasion back home. She’d never introduced her parents to any man that she’d dated—not only because they were eleven hours away by flight, but because there just hadn’t ever been anyone.

Joseph was—different. But she had always known that; she had always known that he was an exception to a lot of people’s rules, not just her own, and she was violating cardinal rule number one of her own personal regiment, which was “don’t mix business and pleasure”. Pursuing a romantic relationship with your business partner’s older brother didn’t exactly adhere to that, did it?

“It’s going to be hot,” Isolde said, “and the flight is long, and the traffic is going to be… Well, insane. But my parents will definitely insist on feeding us the second we get there—”

“That’s fine.”

“—so what I’m saying is, if I blink at you five times in rapid succession, we need to make up an emergency to leave. What’s the emergency? We have to have one ready and on hand, otherwise my dad will see straight…”

Her voice trailed off. The kitchen was not as she’d left it, a little over an hour ago, to pack. In fact, it was dimly lit by candles, the dining table sporting a bouquet—not roses, like someone might have expected out of a scene like this, but calla lilies. Her favorite.

“What—” She stopped in the doorway, but Joseph sidled up behind her, hands on her hips and nudging her forward. “Joseph, what…?”

“I told you.” He kissed just below her ear, reaching for her left hand and bringing it up to kiss her knuckles there, too. “You’re the only person that I’ll say something to more than once—”

Isolde felt something—something both hot and cold, sharp and too soft—whip through her immediately at the leading tone. “You’re not making any sense,” she managed out, trying to dig her heels in, but Joseph wasn’t trying to push her in any further so it didn’t matter.

“I want you to marry me.” Joseph said against her skin, and he slid something cool and metal along her finger. “I want you to be my wife, Soli.”

A ring, her brain said, the alarm bells ringing immediately. That’s a ring. Holy shit, that’s a really big fucking ring. On your finger. Holy shit.

“Isolde.” Joseph turned her around to look at him fully now, brows furrowing at what was surely a look of panic on her face. What she thought had to be the assumption that they were only nerves, he continued, “I know that—”

“No.” The word came out of her mouth before she could stop it, the single-word-statement fleeing her mouth in her panic. She thought she’d feel regret about it, but she didn’t; only about the way Joseph looked at her when she said it.

He seemed to be gathering himself for a moment, like maybe he didn’t think that she meant it, that she was playing some kind of joke on him.

Joseph began, “If this is your idea of—”

“I mean it,” Isolde interjected. “I won’t marry you, Joseph. So—no. Take this—” She fumbled the engagement ring off of her finger and put it into his hand like it was a cursed item, like she couldn’t get it off of her finger any fucking quicker. “Take this back. And—that’s it, I just don’t want it.”

His eyes were fixed on her, no longer soft in their romanticism, but hard, steely. “And why not?”

She swallowed up a sound that probably would have been close to agony. It was agony, having to explain to him; her mind vibrating at an entirely different frequency than his, the panic settling into her bones. She needed to say, I’ve been married before you and I know what it’s like to give yourself over to someone, she needed to say, I won’t fucking let someone own me, Joseph Seed, she needed to say, I told you two months ago I never wanted to get married again, and you just apparently didn’t listen, which is reason enough.

“I don’t need to justify myself to you,” is what she said instead, going to step around him. But his hand caught her wrist, the carefully manicured and polished exterior fading into something that hit an edge of tension, pulling pulling pulling until she thought she was going to watch him finally snap.

But he said, “You do.”

“Fuck. You,” Sol bit out. The anger flared hot in her chest. It was, at last, a familiar emotion; anger and not panic, filling her up. Drowning out the sadness that tried to rip through her like a wildfire. “I told you. I told you I wasn’t doing it again.”

“I’m different.” Now it was his turn to sound almost petulant, his grip on her wrist like iron. “You said that yourself. That we’re—”

“Not different enough,” she snapped. “Apparently, anyway, since you couldn’t wait longer than two months to try and put your name on me, could you?” Trying to pull her wrist out of his grip proved futile, and she managed out with the timbre of her voice vibrating with poison, “And get your fucking hand off of me, Joseph.”

He stared at her for a long moment before he finally loosened his hold on her wrist. Enough to let her pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t. Isolde stayed firmly put, willing her legs to carry her somewhere else—back home would probably be the best thing, driving the hours it takes between Hope County and the nearest lick of civilization.

You said that yourself. I’m different.

He was. She wanted to say, you are, Joseph, but she didn’t, because she knew that it would only start them in another circle again, a snake swallowing its own tail in an endless cycle.

So they stood there for a moment: neither of them saying anything, her last threat hanging, jolts of anger fizzing and popping in the air between them. Isolde’s hand slid just enough to catch at the wrist in Joseph’s grip, and he took her hand instead, then, tugging lightly to draw her close to him.

Testing her out. Feeling her boundaries. She’d basically said I’ll tear your hand off if you don’t listen to me, but he didn’t think she would. And now he was going to slam those buttons—slide his fingers under her edges until he found the exact farthest he could push her.

“I won’t,” Joseph said, very low and quiet, “let you do this to me, Isolde.”

She had been expecting something else. Something sweet, maybe—Joseph liked to do that. Sweet girl, he’d say to her, and if anyone else had tried to call her girl they would’ve gotten dumped, but with this viper it was different. It didn’t feel condescending when Joseph said it to her. It just felt covetous.

And that’s what he was best at: bite, and then soothe. It made his sharp edges more tolerable. It made them nice. But now he was all sharp edges, only hard lines, catching on her and tearing every time the two of them made contact. It had always been this way; John had said that he thought they were poorly matched, and at the time, she’d written it off as John not liking to share even his business partner with his older brother.

Now more than ever, she thought that he was right. They were both too unwieldy, too wretched, to let someone else sway them from their opinions.

“You are so fucking dramatic,” Isolde said, pulling her hand out of his grip at last and turning on her heel. “We don’t need to be married to be together. And your antiquated notion—”

“There are things I want to accomplish, and they’re best done with a wife—”

“I’m sorry, did you hear a period punctuating the end of my sentence? Don’t fucking talk over me, Joseph,” she snapped. For one split second, she saw something vicious flicker over Joseph’s face—just for that one, tiny second—and then he cleared his face.

After a second of silence, of waiting for Joseph to try and get the last word in, she finished, “You don’t know me well enough to want to marry me. And—marriage is a scam, anyway. I would know, I handle nasty divorces every day at work.” I’ve handled my own nasty divorce. “If you’re looking for a pretty housewife to sit around statuesque and have dinner ready for you when you come home, then—well, then you really don’t fucking know me.”

Joseph was silent. His jaw worked, his eyes sweeping over her, tension radiating off of her until he said, “I guess I don’t.”

“I guess so,” Isolde agreed. Another moment of silence, where it felt like they were circling each other like wounded dogs, and she said, “I’m going to go—”

“Fine,” he interrupted, the thing that he knew she hated. “When you’ve calmed down, we can discuss this like adults.”

“There isn’t anything to discuss,” she said, gathering up her coat and keys and walking up the stairs. “I’m not going to change my mind, Joseph.”

From the kitchen, she heard him agree, “Not yet.”

“Shut up,” Isolde snapped. “You make me so fucking mad.”

He didn’t respond to that; she heard him moving around in the kitchen, gathering things and putting them away as she hauled her suitcase down to the front door. He met her at the door, opening it for her—which pissed her off half as much as him putting an engagement ring on her finger.

It shouldn’t have, but it did. It was like he was saying, I know you’ll be back, so go on. Feel free to leave whenever you’d like.

Like the gentleman he was, he carried her suitcase out and loaded it into the car, lingering around the driver’s side as she threw her coat inside. And then she was the one waiting, unsure of what to do; the muscle memory of her body said, kiss him goodbye, the fury in her brain screaming to get in the car and leave.

“When you change your mind,” he reiterated calmly, reaching up and brushing the hair from her face, “you know how to get in touch with me.”

Isolde’s gaze flickered at the touch, Joseph’s warm, heady cologne washing over her as the space between them vanished. She said, the amber and vetiver of him welling up inside of her and filling her like a wineskin, “I won’t.”

His lips grazed her temple, fingers brushing her jaw. “I love you, Isolde.”

Fucking narcissist, she thought, venomously, pulling away from him. Her gaze drifted over his face, trying to find something familiar, something that reminded her of the man she had thought she had loved—but who had clearly proven he was incapable of thinking of anyone but himself.

So finally, she bit out, “This is what you think love is?”

She wanted the words to sting. She wanted them to wipe the tranquility off of his face. He had always been so composed; the wretchedness in her wanted to shake it out of him, making him squirm like he was so good at doing to her.

But he didn’t; his mouth ticked upward in a serene smile, eyes fixed on her as he stepped back from the car. He seemed confident in himself—that it was love, that she would see it was. One day.

I won’t let you do this to me, he’d said.

“Have a safe drive,” he called, when she slammed the door. It was an hour to the airport; an hour, and then however long of a flight, however long she’d have to wait for the next flight heading out to Georgia.

Joseph turned and walked back inside as she pulled out of the driveway, as carefully as she could through the snow; in her rearview mirror, she saw him stop at the door and turn to look, eyes fixed on her.

There are plenty of people I wish were dead, too.

#fic: witching hour #otp: i could sleep inside the cold of you #witching hour interlude #joseph seed x ofc #joseph seed/ofc #ch: isolde khan #ch: joseph seed #this felt important to include #a lot of it is polished from my pre-cult canon but it feels!!!!!#necessary to give them a bit more context esp for folks who only see my content on ao3 #thank u everyone for being patient w me <3 #my writing #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic

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davosmymaster · 4 years

Text

To the Ends of the Universe

A/N - Hello!!! How’s everyone doing? Just wanted to say thank you to the people who left a comment/liked the post about this one shot. I really hope this fic won’t dissapoint anyone.

Special thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse who has been there from the very first second. This fic initially started as both of us just daydreaming about the Master as usual and well, here we are XD. She was also my incredible beta reader.

As some of you know, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake. This is also my first fic on tumblr YAY

I really hope you have a good time reading this!!!

WARNINGS - Blood, mentions of nightmares, it’s pure fluff basically with hints of angst

PAIRINGS - Dhawan!Master x Reader (The Master x Reader)

WORD COUNT - 6,062 words

TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE

The dimly lit hallways exploded in a bright white light as you rushed to the medbay, the loud thumping of your heart stuck in your ears as you forced your legs to keep the pace for just one more second.

As Opposed to The Doctor’s, The Master’s TARDIS had always looked quite dark and unwelcoming, almost as if it wasn’t pleased with having anyone wandering around inside her. This time, however, a white flickering light guided you through the maze-like corridors to your destination. It was a big change from the dirty tricks she used to play during the first few months of your stay.

The floor under your shoes quaked as the ship took off, the harsh trembling sending your body forwards and your shoulder crashing against one of the metal doors. You rubbed the tender spot for a second, the worry that had overwhelmed you at the sight of blood quickly being replaced by a wave of pure annoyance and agitation.

“You could help me a bit here” you whispered through gritted teeth towards the TARDIS, the pain in your shoulder slowly dissolving into numbness.

A low groan seemed to come from the walls and the energy inside it. The metal disappeared as the door slid open to reveal the grey colour of the medbay.

“O-oh” you gasped “sorry”

Once inside the room and without a thought, your body automatically went for the second drawer in one of the cupboards.

Traveling the stars wasn’t as safe as you would have liked, and both the Master and yourself had gotten hurt more times than either of you remembered. As years and years passed you had surprised yourself in the most appropriate situations, becoming aware of the fact that you could find almost anything in the medbay at this point; even if you couldn’t understand the advanced medical technology a time lord could have gathered all over time and space for god-knows-how-long.

“I’m back!” you announced when the control room appeared in front of your eyes again. The figure of the Master was leaning against the console, eyes too focused on his own empty fists to be considered normal. His hair was more disheveled than usual, the fringe coated with blood as it brushed across the top of his eyes. “Master”

He jumped in place at the sound of your voice, one of his hands instinctively going to his coat’s pocket as a reflex. The wound on the side of his head was still bleeding, although the oozing flow of blood seemed to have lessened considerably since you had last seen him. His skin was much paler than usual and the dark rings under his eyes were looking much worse than that morning. You couldn’t help but think that he looked miserable, even beyond the blood staining his face and clothes.

“Are you alright?” you whispered. You took a step forward cautiously and didn’t look away from his eyes, trying to find all the answers to your questions in those big brown orbs.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He quickly backed off, putting as much space between the two of you as he could. You watched him wander the room, walking in one direction before changing his mind the next second. You clenched your hands around the medical supplies, the weight of all the things you were carrying reminded you why you had left the room in the first place.

“Have a seat somewhere” you demanded, although it sounded angrier than you had intended, almost like a bark. “You’re still bleeding”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Your heart hammered in your chest as a response. The silence fell between the two of you, the atmosphere suddenly running out of air. He looked like a madman right there in front of your incredulous eyes, bleeding and pointing at you like he pointed at his enemies after stating a threat. He had never glared at you with angry eyes before.

The Master had been acting odd for some time now. It all started with a change in his plans. One day, for no apparent reason, he took you on a trip to one of the most beautiful planets in the universe. The blue dunes of sand under an orange bright sun permanently eclipsed by one of its forty-three satellites. It seemed to be the perfect place to have some rest, at least it was until some of the natives recognized the Master and threatened to kill both of you.

Surely ‘the most beautiful’ didn’t imply ‘the safest’, as the few civilizations that lived there had been at war for more than a millennia. The only thing all those aliens had in common was, somehow, the desire for the Master’s dead body. When the TARDIS set off again, as far away from the planet as she could, you realized he had done the first good action in a long time: he had left behind two civilizations unified for a cause greater than themselves, to get rid of him once and for all.

Most of the time you couldn’t choose where to go, he always traveled whenever and wherever he needed in order to gather weapons or artifacts. Other times it was merely to have some fun, and on some rare occasions you would manipulate him to use his bloodthirstiness to do some justice.

Those trips weren’t as usual now, or maybe he just had stopped telling you the truth about his intentions. Burning planets, dangerous ships and poisonous waters became beautiful trips to sightseeing constellations and the most delicious dinners served next to the colorful Medusa Cascade. No matter how beautiful or safe the place seemed to be, there was always someone or something interrupting the dates you were trying to enjoy with the Master. Not that he would call them dates, anyway.

You used to read him like an open book. When he said “you’ll slow me down” in reality he meant “this is gonna turn nasty and I want you as far away from here as possible”. When he said he wanted to be alone, that was probably the last thing he wanted. And most of all you were almost a hundred percent sure that the strange words he whispered into your hair when he thought you were asleep meant “I love you” in Gallifreyan.

But you still hadn’t managed to persuade the TARDIS to get you a Gallifreyan dictionary with the words’ pronunciation. It was definitely a work in progress though, or it had been until you realized that the Master and yourself had been slowly growing apart for the last few months.

“(Y/N)” he said, his voice almost as low as a whisper “I- I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have” you responded firmly. There were a lot of things you were willing to forgive him for, but yelling and mistreating you wasn’t one of them.

He groaned in pain then, drenching his fingertips in the blood clot in his temple. Your own heart shivered in your chest at the sight, concern quickly burning your insides as a white hot fire ran through your veins.

“Don’t touch it!”

You quickly walked the space keeping you apart and gave him a gentle smack to his wrist. He avoided your eyes, fixing them instead on the rolls of unopened gauze, alcohol, towels, and those strange alien band-aids that accelerated the healing process up to five times faster.

In a flurry of movement the Master moved, his hands quick to try and snatch them from you. But you had known him for a long time and knew exactly what he was like.

“I can do it myself, I’m not a child”

“I know you can-” you replied softly, your mind trying to convince itself that he was acting weirder than usual because you had underestimated the damage caused by the blow he had suffered to the head. “-but I’m not as sure about the rest of the sentence.”

He raised one eyebrow in response and you watched him try not to grimace in pain again.

“Here” he pulled away from you and walked to the front door of the TARDIS, opening it with ease. The old wood-like doors pulled back to reveal a black nothingness filled with thousands of distant flickering stars “I need some air.”

The Master took a seat at the border. His back rested against the doors, one of his legs dangling out into space, the other bent beneath him on the floor.

“You’ve definitely taken quite a hit.” you laughed, “There’s no air in outer space!”

He smirked with closed eyes, calmly breathing in and out through the nose. “Don’t tell a Time Lord what can and cannot be in outer space. Now get to work, if you’re not going to let me do it myself.”

You took a seat in front of him in the small space between his figure and the open door, one of your legs also dangling out into space. Leaning in, you pressed the gauze soaked in alcohol against the open wound to finally stop the bleeding. The Master clenched his jaw as much as he could, hissing in pain.

“Sorry” you apologized, “Keep the pressure on yourself, I’m gonna clean you up.”

He leered at you, the corner of his lips smirking lasciviously. You rolled your eyes, taking the wet towel in your hands and proceeding to clean the dry blood away from his chin and cheek. You cleaned his short beard the best you could and tried to get rid of the blood clots in his fringe, unsuccessfully to your dismay.

You could feel his eyes piercing yours, his fingers gently sliding across the skin of your shoulder, softly brushing your hair to get it out of the way. You fixed your eyes onto his own only to catch him avoiding your gaze, his attention stuck on staring out at the endless sight of the universe.

The Master kept his eyes fixed in nowhere in particular while you worked on his wound. You slowly opened one of the band-aids and tried to avoid his hair as much as possible, so you could place it on the side of his head; just above the temple. Now you just had to wait a few minutes to remove it. You had used those curious things several times before and although the healing was sped up, the thing never failed to leave some kind of scar. But even with those odds stacked against him, the Master was always lucky enough to never get scarred- likely thanks to his own unique biology.

You let yourself fall limp against the door and tilted your head to whatever the Master was looking for. The sight was beautiful as it had always been, millions of stars were almost swallowed by the black nothingness that separated planets, constellations, solar systems, and asteroids. And even at the incredible sight of all of this, you struggled to find something that could possibly retain the Master’s attention for more than a split second.

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed a little distant lately” you asked again.

Fixing your eyes on his features you searched for any sign of discomfort, either physical or emotional. At the lack of response your gaze started to wander, his hand catching your attention as he played with something inside of his coat pocket.

He was likely twisting and curling the TCE between his fingers. It was a trait you had noticed during your time travelling with him, his fingers fidgeting without fail whenever he was deep in thought. It happened every time, he would either tap four beats on any surface he could find or get something to entertain his restless fingers with, most of the time the ‘thing’ being his TCE.

The memories from the day filled your head then. He had looked distant the whole time, from the very first second he landed the TARDIS in one of the three planets that formed the solar system of one of the seventeen suns in Kasterborous. It was the closest you had ever been to Gallifrey and, still, it was far enough to not be able to admire the beautiful planet that had watched the Doctor and the Master grow into adults for centuries.

“I’m just planning my next scheme to trap the Doctor”

You nodded, although you didn’t believe a thing of what he said.

The words of what you had been thinking for endless nights poured from your lips before your mind could make up an excuse for his strange behavior, like all the other times. No one could blame you, after all you were just trying to protect your heart and mind from shattering.

“Is it me?” you asked finally, your voice betraying you and showing more emotion than what you had intended.

The Master suddenly turned his curious gaze to you. So he was paying attention then…

“Don’t you think I haven’t spotted how distant you’ve been lately” you added, although lately didn’t seem to be the right word. Obviously you had realized how much time he spent alone in the library and how his visits to the room you both shared were becoming less and less frequent. He always claimed he didn’t need to sleep as much, but you had been apart for enough time for you to notice that it was just a cheap excuse to not be there.

“Do you not want me to be here anymore?”

He frowned at your words.

“W-wha-”

“Are you still happy?” you asked with a hoarse voice, feeling the familiar weight of tears building up in your eyes at the low wheezing sound of the silence. You clenched your jaw and tried to swallow the tears. “Don’t lie to me.”

He just stared at you in silence for a second, mouthing like a fish out of water, until he finally blinked and tried to make a sound.

“I-is not-”

“Just-” you cut him off, feeling again like a lie was about to spill from his lips. “-you seem sad, distant, you’re not happy and you’re lying to me.”

“No-NO!” You snapped when he tried to talk again, “Don’t try to deny it, I can tell. I know you”

“So…” Anxiously you took a shallow shaky breath “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

He pressed his lips together for a second but soon relaxed again. Changing his expression, the shimmer in his eyes shifted as he smirked slightly, the dark circles under his eyes failing to achieve the frightening look he was striving for. Maybe it would have worked with anyone else, but not with you.

“You humans are so vain, always thinking the universe spins around you.”

“I’m being serious, Koschei”

He took a breathless gasp, almost as if he had been hit. The name of a time lord was one of the biggest, best-kept secrets in the universe. Only a handful of people had known (or would ever know) the real name of the Doctor, and due to the Master’s lack of sympathy and his trouble to connect with people to an emotional level, even less had known or ever would know his.

‘How many?’ you had asked when he confessed his real name one night, his forehead pressing against your sweaty collarbone.

‘Only you’ he had whispered, right before kissing your shoulder “and some Time Lords at the Academy, but they are not important.” you heard him take a deep breath, his nose pressed against your throat “All dead now.”

Those times seemed out of reach. You even asked yourself if he regretted telling you.

“Not you.” he whispered defeatedly, his head falling to his lap “It could never be you.”

“What is it then?”

He shifted his whole body to face you, squirming in his place and unable to keep still. He removed his hand from his pocket, clasping your own tightly.

“It’s me.” he whispered in a choked breath and looked at your eyes “It’s so selfish of me to want you forever even though I know I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that!” you replied, struggling to believe the honesty in his voice and eyes. “You’re not serious. You can’t think like that after everything we’ve been through!”

He focused again on your hands firmly entwined.

“I believe it because… you’re so good” he looked away briefly towards the stars, before turning his gaze back to you again. “And people like me don’t get good people by their side or moments like this.”

The Master stroked your palms with his thumbs, suddenly finding them more interesting than his own thoughts. After a few moments he gave a shaky sigh, backing off once more.

“And if the past few attempts haven’t been proof of that, then I don’t know what could it be.”

“Proof?” you questioned, “Proof of what? And what do you mean by the past few attempts?”

He froze in place, and you frowned at his sudden stiffness. His shoulders tensed and body solid as he sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried and failed to relax his posture. The Master grumbled to himself in defeat, his hand dipping back into his pocket and playing with the TCE or whatever he had found to fiddle with once more.

“I-it’s nothing. Just rambling.” he shrugged in an attempt to consolidate his own thoughts, but not even you believed his body language. “You do it a lot, ramble I mean, ugh, it’s your fault. I’m getting your bad ha-”

“Does it have something to do with the last few stops?” you insisted, although you knew from personal experience that pressuring the Master to talk more than he wanted was never a good idea “All those… extravagant places, the two dates at the Medusa Cascade…”

“Dates?”

You would have laughed at his disgusted look if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense between the both of you. So you just gave him a crooked smile.

“Yes, Master. That’s what it’s called when a person takes another person for dinner to talk and have a good time, especially when the place is that fancy. I loved it even though...”

He watched silently as you told him about the whole date and everything that happened afterwards, despite him being there by your side. Although the dinner had started off with good intentions, it had quickly slipped into a tone of awkwardness through no fault of his own. So much so that the chasing and ‘running for your lives’ had been very much welcomed, although he didn’t notice it. He even apologized once you got into the TARDIS. It was fair to say that he was beyond annoyed the first time.

A month later, when the second date was just another failed attempt in another restaurant in the Medusa Cascade, he had been furious. That was one of the reasons why the console room (or the living room of the house the TARDIS was disguised as) was even messier than usual. He had broken some chairs and cups before following your steps as you had stormed out to the library.

The Master realized as he watched you talk that there would be no such thing as a perfect time. He silently admired the star light reflecting in your eyes and highlighting your features, oblivious to everything else. He couldn’t believe the fact that fate had found a way for both your souls to meet and connect. It didn’t matter in the end how much he had tried to distance himself from any other form of life in the universe, because at the end of the day you had always been there, always. He didn’t believe in fate, but when he looked back at the few possibilities there was for him to meet a person that he truly cared about, it was hard not to succumb at the idea of a force greater than himself pulling the strings to figure everything out.

Even if he dared to think for a split second about not seeing you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep his pieces together. The Master wanted to do the right thing for once, and if fate surprisingly existed, he was certain it absolutely despised him. Countless times he had tried to have a full minute in silence with you, just enjoying each other’s company with a beautiful view, and the same amount of times his plans had been ruined by someone or something trying to either kill him, obtain revenge or obtain revenge via killing him. Until that precise moment he had never had regrets about all the people he had annoyed.

He wondered what he could do now. Kasterborous was the last place on the list, and he was beyond exhausted from trying. On the other hand, he couldn’t give up on you. His best dreams were always about you, but so were his worst nightmares. And whenever and wherever he was he could always be sure about two things: his love for you and his conviction that as long as your heart was beating, so would his.

How had he expected to make it perfect when your lives had always been so messy? After all, that was the whole basis of your lives: chaos, adventure, nothing ever occurring according to plan. And still, everything seemed to always find a way to fall into place. Not even the tardis had felt like a home before you, but now home seemed to be in his hands whenever he held yours, and he would be so lost if your hand ever left his.

A sudden current of hope swallowed him whole.

“Travel the universe with me.” He whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pleading. However, your laugh died with ease when you turned around to find a pair of saddened eyes.

You leaned in and stroked his beard in your palm, using a few seconds to admire his lips and features. Sighing, you repositioned yourself with both of your hands in his lap, your eyes staring intensely at his own as you held his attention on yourself.

“I already travel with you, idiot.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, “What’s wrong?”

The Master took three shallow breaths, his sight lost somewhere in your hands above the fabric of his trousers. You moved away from him again, gazing worriedly to how distant he seemed to be from his own flesh. It was at that moment that his hand emerged from the concealment of his thick purple coat pocket, his fist trembling and knuckles a stark white colour.

An idea quickly surged in your brain, and you fought to swallow the dry lump in your throat at the fear of something serious happening to him.

However, that fear quickly vanished when his fist relaxed and his fingers slowly curled open; revealing what was inside for the light of day to see.

For a split second you thought he wasn’t holding anything, but then your mind acknowledged the shape of a ring sitting proudly in front of your incredulous eyes. The ring was so tiny in his large hand that you couldn’t properly see it until his fist was completely open and flat, it seemed almost a crime to keep something so beautiful concealed in the shadows.

The ring was silver, encrusted with white circular gemstones that you didn’t even bother to try and name as without a doubt they weren’t from Earth. The central gem shined a dim light almost invisible until he lent his hand to the side. For a second you could have sworn you had seen a fine black line inside of it, the thought quickly dismissed as a trick of the light as your eyes filled with unstoppable tears once again.

The only thing that could make you look away from the small piece of jewelry was a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, that and the fact that the Master had quickly stowed the ring away in his coat pocket once more. Your trembling body kept your eyes locked on the empty space it had once inhabited regardless, that was until you heard his panicked voice breaking through the loud thumping of your heart in your ears.

The Master had positioned both his hands against your cheeks which were now wet with your tears, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheek and drawing you away from your reverie. Only then did you dare to look at him again.

“I-I’m sorry. I-” he took shallow breaths, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes at light speed. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, please. Don’t cry.”

“W-” you tried to ask, but the words in your mouth didn’t seem to appear fast enough in your mind “W-what’s that?”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to your own, still wiping away the tears that littered your cheeks with his thumbs. Even from that angle you could discern how one tear slipped away from his right eye, licking gently at the hot skin behind only to die in the corner of his lips.

“Nothing.” He stated with a shuddered exhale, suddenly cutting himself off by chewing his lip “It’s nothing!”

“It’s a ring!” You cried in return.

From all the things you expected from the Master, marriage was very low on the list. He despised most planets and sassily commented about any tradition and culture that wasn’t his own. You had never even bothered to think about marriage, especially after knowing that weddings on Gallifrey were mostly arranged, a mere game to obtain political power and status amongst the community. In Gallifrey weddings weren’t enjoyed and at the end of the day, they didn’t mean anything either; it was just a convenient tool for both parties.

But you weren’t a Time Lord.

You were human.

Just one more human traveling the stars.

During your travels, you had learned that the meaning of marriage was a timeless concept to the future of the human race, no matter how long someone had been away from Earth or how many millenniums had passed since the Solar System had been destroyed to dust. Some things simply stayed the same.

So he knew what marriage meant to the human race, and most importantly, he knew what marriage meant to you, for the both of you.

“No” he tried “No, it’s…”

“Don’t lie to me” you growled, pushing his shoulders back “Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m tired of getting pushed away. You always, always, do that. And it hurts”

You buried your head in your knees, your arms wrapping around yourself tightly as tears silently escaped your eyes without remedy. It happened regardless of how you felt, were you happy? nervous? sad? You didn’t even know at this point. The thing with the Master was that he was always so hard to comprehend, despite all the years of traveling and living together. In the end he was always true to his spontaneous, chaotic natures, never failing to surprise you at the least expected moment.

The Master moved closer, this time pressing his forehead to your shoulder. A second after you felt your own shirt getting damp, your heart tightening in your chest even more, if that was even possible. Knowing that not only was he only trying not to cry in front of you, he was also trying to hide, trying to find somewhere safe to let himself break. It was hard not to think about how much exhaustion and courage it was taking him not to get on his feet and run as far as he could.

He always had struggled to put his emotions into words, and expressing the depth of his feelings for you was still something he wasn’t quite used to. Even though he had never said I love you openly, you also knew he didn’t need to.

The Master was the kind of person whose acts always said more than his words. The way he supported you in everything you wanted to do, the soft whispers to wake you up and his habit of making a single cup of coffee in the morning just for you (mostly because he didn’t like the taste). You had spent an endless amount of nights in his arms when you couldn’t sleep, countless days curled up tightly next to him when sickness took over your body. You didn’t remember what nightmares felt like anymore, you hadn’t had one since the first night he shared with you. Yet still, you preferred them to the terror swallowing your body whole when his own nightmares woke you up in the middle of the night.

“Of course it’s a ring.” he finally admitted, “Im selfish enough to not want you with anyone else or anywhere else. I want you here for as long as we have.”

His confession was sealed with a feather light kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “I’ve been trying to ask you for a long time, but it never works out. I fear this will have to do”

When you pulled away, he quickly wiped all the tears from his face in a rapid and almost angry manner. But even with his cheeks partially dry, you could still see the redness tinted around the edges of his eyes and the tip of his nose, still spot the remnants of tears clinging to his eyelashes.

You pulled his hands away from his face and cleared away the final tears that slipped across his cheeks. A choked sob tearing from his throat as he tried to take a steadying breath. You could clearly see the conflict he waged with himself, especially so when his hands turned into fists and his jaw clenched so tightly you feared he would break a tooth.

Pressing the tip of your thumb against his lip, you caressed the soft skin you were dying to kiss. Looking deeply into his eyes, you could tell he seemed to be finally paying full attention.

“Look at me.”

“I’m looking at you.”

“No, you’re not.” You exclaimed, “You’re thinking, not looking. Stop torturing yourself in that head of yours and just… look at me and see.”

Frown lines marked his face and you took the chance to get rid of the white band-aid that stuck to his forehead; revealing the pristine healed skin underneath.

“What do you want me to see?” The Master ventured after a moment of silence.

“How much I love you.” You brushed the tip of his nose with yours and slid your hand against the soft hairs in his jaw. “You need to see it, and believe…”

His short chuckle was melody to your ears.

“It's impossible not to see it, love.” He smiled sadly, your skin shivering under his touch as he slid two fingers under the fabric of the shirt’s collar. Lazily he outlined your collarbone, his hands roaming and exploring your skin as though it was an uncharted planet.

You smiled to yourself, knowing it was yet again another sign of his nervous quirks; the constant need to entertain his fingers with something.

“It’s there every time I look at you.” The Master continued, “And unfortunately, I never believe what I see.”

Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say, the words nestled deep within your heart. Closing your eyes, you gently pressed your lips against his own, the moment brief and chaste before backing off almost immediately afterwards.

“I’ll have to make you then.”

Leaning forwards your hand reached outwards, pulling the pocket of his coat round as you brazenly dug down into his pocket. It wasn't hard to find the tiny piece of jewelry, but it was definitely harder to free your wrist from the Master’s grip.

“Please…” he begged with pleading eyes “What are you…?”

Eventually, and without a word, he let your wrist go. You licked your lips, feeling the coldness of the ring nestled against your own palm but too afraid to open your fist to give it a proper look.

Taking a deep breath, you finally encouraged yourself to do what had to be done.

Even before giving the ring a second look, you slowly slid the piece of jewellery on to the place it belonged; where it would always belong. Then with baited breath you drew your gaze carefully across every inch of it, committing every shine, every detail to memory. The circular gem in the middle caught your attention for a lot longer than when you had initially seen it, and you found that the more you fixed your eyes on it, the clearer the thin black lines became inside of the gem.

You could tell it was gallifreyan, the entwined circles were hard to mistake for any other language, the black dots inside the circumferences were almost impossible to see. You struggled to find the meaning, even with the knowledge from the classes that The Master had given you in the past.

He seemed to be holding his breath when your eyes watched his features again. Noticing your eyes on him, he swallowed loudly. His whole figure relaxed. His shoulders falling back against the wood-like door, his constant frown fading and hands falling limp in his lap. With nifty fingers brushed away his fringe in an attempt to remove the hair from his eyes.

He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation and you did understand his reaction, after all he had been trying to propose for a long time.

“What does it mean?”

His grin was the biggest he had ever made, his eyes recovering that special shine you hadn’t seen in months.

“Why do I even bother trying to teach you?”

“Why do I even bother treating your wounds if you make me want to punch you in the face afterwards?”

“Uhm… let’s see…” He jokingly teased. Catching your left hand, he brought it closer to his eyes, his gaze fixated on the ring perched on your finger.

With a steady voice and growing confidence, The Master pronounced a series of sounds that you couldn’t quite comprehend, your mind still flaring with recognition for them as the words he always whispered in your hair during the night.

Before you could protest about not speaking gallifreyan, he promptly translated.

“Hold my hand to the ends of the universe.” He took your hand and gently pressed his lips to the ring and the skin around it.

“This is my promise” he finished with a whisper.

Your breath was caught in your throat. You only remembered you needed to say something when he warily gazed to your own incredulous eyes. You had no idea what he would decipher in your gaze, as your own torrent of emotions were hard to decode even by yourself. But you caught sight of the huge amount of hope installed in his eyes and your heart hammered in your chest at the sight.

“Yes, I do.”

The Master chuckled, your attention catching a glimpse of the happiness exploding in his eyes. It was like watching a supernova explode in before you. He let his head fall to your intertwined hands once again, sliding his fingers to tighten his grip around your own as he held your hand.

“I wanted to propose to you.” he smirked, “Not marry you on the spot. We have time for that.”

You chuckled and he lent in, his lips gracing your cheek as he kissed you once more. With his breath hot against your skin, the Master released a shaky, relieved whisper.

“Thank you, love.”

With a gentle touch, his hands wandered to the small of your back urging you to lay down on top of him. You followed his guidance with little resistance, hands pressed against his chest as you could hear the rapid beating of his hearts despite the numerous layers of clothing he always wore.

Excited at the sound, you shifted your hand directly above his hearts, the gemstones in the ring sparkling and reflecting the flickering light of the stars on your finger.

“I love you.” You whispered as his hands traced circular lines in your back. He made an amused sound and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too,” He answered without a moment's hesitation.

#dhawan!master x reader #the master x reader #master x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #doctor who x reader #sacha dhawan #the master #dhawan!master

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