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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 18 🍒 "I Wanted It To Be You"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 7,467

Summary: Moving on from Joel, your life takes many unexpected courses: college, marriage.. yet you keep wondering What If..?

(Warnings contain spoilers, so please check beneath the cut if you're curious)

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (the difference is 17 years, and there are a few time skips throughout this chapter), starts in late 2003 and ends in 2023, Angst Angst Angst, brief mention of jailtime, breakup, parental issues, heavy on the mom guilt, underage drinking, dry humping, anonymous drunk sex (never ever do this, folks), vomit, reader going through a slutty era after getting her heart broken (just like Joel in Chapter 14), allusions to smut, time skips (labeled), panic attack, mention of drugs and alcohol, rough sex, creampie, surprise pregnancy, infidelity, lil bit of a makeout sesh with Tommy, semi-public sex, pussy pronouns, light degradation, Ellie is Joel's daughter, mention of cyberstalking (not as serious as it sounds), mention of reader having a therapist, Joel and Tess are married. If I left anything out, please LMK!

Author's Note: this took forever to write because the more I edited the more I wanted to add. And I know this chapter has quite a few time skips, I just wanted to highlight the important parts as much as I could. ALSO: I apologize for the unrealistically speedy law process at the beginning. I have no idea how that situation would pan out, but it would almost definitely drag out for months if not years.

So much angst here, but now the reader is all grown up! I wanted to add the convo with Sarah but this chapter was already getting so long, and I think it'll fit better in the next installment anyway.

Series Masterlist

"I would've said yes."

You've lost count of how many voicemails you leave Joel, who's been ignoring your calls, but this is the only time you say it, that you admit your love could have gone a different way if you'd just gotten back to that hotel room together.

You replay that night over and over in your head, but with different endings. In a perfect world, your father would never have even been there in the first place. In a separate, less perfect world, you would not have called out to him, just ignored him the way he ignored you. Then you'd have some peace of mind, and you'd belong with the man you love.

Each time you call Joel, you expect to hear his gruff voice on the other end of the line. And soon enough the ringing stops and goes straight to voicemail, where you leave him the words of your bleeding, broken heart:

"I would've said yes."

You haven't taken the ring out of its box, worried you'll jinx whatever luck you have left. Joel is supposed to kneel, take your hand in his, and place the ring on your finger. You've never envisioned what getting engaged would look like, but it definitely bears some semblance to tradition.

When Chris refused to press charges, the law stepped in and did it for him. Thirty days in the Bexar County Jail is what they sentenced Joel. That was why you couldn't reach him, why you felt like you were hitting a brick wall. It's a relief when you're finally able to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry," you cry to him over the phone, his voice like a warm and soothing balm. You imagine yourself curling into his embrace, allowing his arms to enfold you, make you small and safe, hidden from the dangers and ugliness of the world.

"You ain't got nothin' to be sorry for," he grunts.

"I love you." You sound pitiful over the phone but you don't care. "Joel, let me come see you and we can work it out. Please."

He sighs. "I got somethin' I need to tell you. Might change your mind how ya feel about me."

"What?" you ask quickly, your young mind scrambling to imagine what he could say, as if to fortify your already shattered heart. Your stomach sinks, nausea threatening to make the bile rise in your throat. "Joel, what is it?"

He's quiet for awhile and when he speaks it's monotone. "I've been seein' someone else."

It sounds like he's speaking a foreign language. You shake your head, looking at your wall calendar. It's only December. You last saw him in late September. The biblical manger scene on the church calendar your mom put on the fridge is an evil harbinger of time now lost.

"Who?" you ask, dreading the answer.

"Doesn't matter," he says gruffly, sounding uncomfortable.

"Tell me who," you insist.

With a deep sigh he relents. "Hailey."

Again, it's like hearing a foreign language. "Hailey? The girl I worked with? The one who went to Sarah's party? That Hailey?"

"Yeah."

"How.. how did this happen?"

"Ran into her at a bar my first night out of jail. I was lonely and she was.. she was there for me."

"What do you mean? Did you-" you take a moment to breathe, try not to let your emotions take over.

"I slept with her. That's all it is between us, just fuckin'."

It's like a punch in the gut. No, worse. It's a blade plunging into your heart over and over.

In a blur of upset and disappointment, you utter the words of anyone who's ever had a broken heart: "How could you do this to me?"

There's no answer for it from his side. His refusal to go into detail feels like he's hiding his fling with Hailey on purpose, withholding part of his new life to you, but you never stop to think he might be saving you from the pain he knows is due.

You cry after hanging up on him. You cry more than you did when he left you in San Antonio. You cry until you can no longer see because your eyes are puffy, nearly tiny slits that still somehow shed tears when you think of Joel with your ex-friend.

Once the sadness has been cried out, there remains only rage, simmering and profound. With small, practiced movements, you take the engagement ring in its box and mail it to Joel's address. No note, and no explanation needed.

"You're not yourself," your mom mentions one night when you push your plate away, your dinner barely touched.

"Not hungry," you mumble.

She sighs in exasperation. "I don't know what to do with you. You won't talk to me." She pushes her own plate away and downs the rest of her cheap wine. "You come home from God-knows-where, with a damn bruise on your face."

You touch your cheek where your father had accidentally knocked you backwards, wishing it was the only physical pain you endured from that night.

"..you don't bother with the chores anymore, you lock yourself away in your room, probably not even studying. Do you even attend classes anymore? Do you even care about your future?" she continues.

"No," you say quite simply.

"No??"

You shake your head and shrug, as if answering something as easy as 'do you want to watch a movie later?'

"I don't. Give. A shit."

Anita scoffs, refilling her glass. "Great. That's just great. Maybe I'll drink this entire bottle and give myself alcohol poisoning. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your shitty attitude anymore."

The scrape of your chair as you push away from the table is as loud as nails on a chalkboard. "You want me to talk? I'll talk." You lean forward, relishing this moment where your mom looks scared as shit.

"I said I was in College Station, but I lied. I was fucking Joel every weekend I was away. We met up in hotel rooms and fucked each other's brains out. And the best part of it all was that he loved me," your voice breaks but you're wickedly delighted by the look of shock and disgust on your mother's face.

You're on a tirade now that can't be stopped. "Two months ago I found Dad in San Antonio. I did," you nod, a psychotic kind of laughter breaking from you when she gawks. "And do you know what? He's forgotten all about us. He has a new family, new kids, new young wife. And he doesn't give a shit about you or me. He never really has, has he?" You realize you're standing, towering over her as you spit out all the venom she's ever poured into you right back at her.

"Now.. how does it feel to have the truth shoved in your face? To be deprived of the fantasy world you wanted so badly to live in, cushioned by your idiotic pretenses? Because I'll bet you could've gone your whole life not knowing, staying innocent. Well, Mother Dearest, fuck you."

Without a word you pack your things, your body moving way ahead of your brain, stuffing every necessary item into a couple of bags before you leave her house, with the intention to never return again.

Summer 2004 Louisiana

Staying with friends in a shitty apartment, you finish the rest of the semester before transferring to another school. Three schools in one year probably isn't a very good look on your transcript, but it's the first choice you make that is truly your own. Working two jobs over the summer you finally have the money you need to survive as you begin a new chapter in Louisiana.

You do everything in your power to get over Joel. The first step was deleting his number from your phone, even though you've already memorized it by heart. To be safe, you also delete Tommy's number, and Sarah's. It feels final, and a small part of you wishes they could get a notification informing them you no longer consider them important enough to keep, even as data.

It still stings when you think of Joel with Hailey. She's older, more experienced, and can probably do whatever he wants without being asked. After you've deleted the Millers from your contact list, you hover over Hailey's name, pressing it and, in a moment of antagonism, send her a text. I thought you were my friend, Turns out you're just a fucking slut Then you delete and block her number.

Dating other guys doesn't come very easy. It's as if they can smell the heartbreak on you, sense your loneliness and unease, the untempered anger simmering below the surface of your smile. You're a walking red flag and you know it, but that doesn't stop you.

You grind on a guy at a club after he buys you a few appletinis. Never mind that he's twenty five and trying to get you drunk so you'll fuck him. With your twenty-dollar Charlotte Russe dress hiked up as you drag your sopping panties over his clothed hardness, he sucks the apple flavor off your tongue, one hand gripping your hips while the other slips inside your underwear to rub your clit and you come for the first time in months. So loud, in fact, that you're caught and promptly kicked out of the club. When your partner (you never remember his name) asks to continue at his place, you decline, already walking to the next bar.

Once the high wears off, you are consumed with guilt as you think of Joel. What would he say if he found out? Would he even care? Maybe he's fucking Hailey right now.

And it hits you that it's already been a year since you first slept with him.

You pause in the middle of the street, coming back to earth when a car honks at you, cursing at you to hurry up and fucking move dumb bitch!

Walking on, you can't get the memory of the feel of Joel out of your head: the way his tongue licked into your mouth, fingers traveling down to play between your folds, telling you he needed you nice and wet before he fucked you, those thick fingers slipping in and playing you like a well tuned instrument, his lips gliding over your throat, resting just above your pulse point, then finding their way down the slope of your breasts, taking each nipple between his lips, his beard rasping against your skin.

You try to force the thought away, but it returns manifold. His mouth, the stiffened warmth of his tongue lapping at your cunt, drinking up every fucking drop and telling you you taste so sweet. He doesn't stop until you come more than once, finally fitting himself inside you, teasing you with the first few inches. Sure you can handle the rest, babygirl? before sliding in in one smooth thrust, joining you body and soul, moving against you just how you need.

You cover your face with your hands and wander into an alley, overcome with despair at the loss of your love, the loss of what innocence you thought you had. Both of those things given to someone who only saw fit to fuck you as he wished and discard when he couldn't handle the reality of your personal life.

"Are you okay?" a voice asks, approaching softly from behind. You turn and see a man, another college student like yourself, dressed in jeans and a striped button down. His features blur together until all you hear is his soft Southern accent and all you smell is his Curve cologne. The next thing you know you're kissing him, begging him to touch you, fuck you, and then he's spinning you to face the wall, dress hiked up, panties pulled down. Your arms support you against the wall as he pushes into you from behind and all you think about is him fucking the pain away, pumping into you hard and fast. He's nowhere near as big as Joel, but you've been so touch starved that the sounds coming out of your mouth are shameless.

Without warning you vomit, splashing your shoes and the wall in front of you with appletini puke, and the guy pulls out immediately, getting away from you as fast as he can, tucking himself back into his jeans.

You rest your forehead against the cool brick wall, spitting out the sour taste in your mouth as tears weep freely from your eyes.

September 2004

At the start of sophomore year you're the only one who doesn't have family come down to help move in, to visit with and take silly, memorable photos with. Nobody comes to your dorm and helps you decorate and put your belongings away. By the time your assigned roommate comes with her parents and little brother you're already set up, fresh sheets on your twin bed, your side already claimed.

You're reading when she comes in, a young girl, freshman, with hope in her eyes, excited to meet you, looking forward to her new life away from Montana or Missouri or wherever she says she's from. You're barely listening.

Who you do notice is her dad: mid-forties, slight beer belly, wearing a polo shirt and cargo pants with brand new New Balance shoes. You make eye contact immediately before he shifts his gaze away. His daughter, your new roommate Jessica, starts to unpack, asking you questions about the classes, what student groups to join. You offer what advice you can, stretching out on your bed in your tank top and running shorts. Her dad's eyes roam over your curves when his wife and kids aren't looking, and you unabashedly flirt back, making sure your shorts ride up, pulling down your tank just a little to expose more cleavage.

Once they leave for a quick tour around the campus you're back to your reading.

Jessica's dad comes back. Alone.

"I think I forgot my wallet in here," he says, giving a forced look of timidity as he checks his pockets.

"You didn't," you smirk, putting your book down and sitting up. "But you can stay if you want.."

He doesn't make an excuse about his family and you wouldn't care if they walked in anyway. Once the door is locked his hands are on your body, grabbing your ass while your hand goes down his pants. You tell him exactly what will make you come, and he does it so willingly it almost touches your heart.

Later as he's leaving and you're trying to get his cum off your bedsheets, he's asking you not to say anything to his daughter, as if you'd proudly exclaim that you fucked him, having barely remembered his name.

You're learning that a lot of men are the same at their very core.

You're a fantasy for the older ones, a college coed with daddy issues and an IUD. Having already been with an older man, you know just what they like, and when you give it you live for the way their eyes light up, and a little of their youth comes back to them for a moment.

It's almost pitiful how easy you figure out the opposite sex. Once you know what they want it's easy to become that, to dress how they want, to feign interest in the things they like, even to keep your thoughts to yourself. You learn to live inside your head, which until now has been the hardest thing to do.

But it's necessary when you're holding onto the headboard of some frat guy's bed while fake moaning as he's holding your hips, going as fast as he can because that's what they do in porn. Each and every guy has a Scarface poster above the bed, or Playboy centerfolds taped to the walls, neon lava lamps on the nightstand along with CDs by Kanye West, Franz Ferdinand, or Velvet Revolver. Your thoughts are elsewhere as you give halfhearted head.

You learn to feel nothing, not even pleasure, because they certainly can't tell that you fake every sigh and gasp.

But the older men, the professors, TA's, even men you meet off campus at the bars in town.. they are what interest you. It's not common for you to find yourself bent over a desk during your professor's office hours, or with your panties around your ankles when a one-on-one study session turns to something else.

You fuck men who remind you of Joel because you can't fuck Joel. It's his hands on you instead of theirs, his breath hot on your ear.. but no one else can fill the part of you that Joel hollowed out for himself when he made you his on a hot Texas summer night.

Though you think about him every day, soon enough, you start to wonder whether he was ever even real, or just someone you made up.

March 2006

Spring Break finds you at a beach house on the coast. The friends you came with are nowhere to be found, and you're pretty sure your drink is laced with something. The music is so loud that you hurry out into the night, seeking solace before the roaring waters of the gulf, black water topped with silver waves. Their rushing sound is soothing, yet you sink to your knees because your world is too heavy.

"I'm dying," you whisper to yourself, crying. Your chest feels tight. It's so hard to breathe, and it feels like your heart will explode.

Only one person on the entire planet comes to mind, and after all this time you still remember his number. You dial it, fingers savoring the press of each button on your phone. How many times have you called Joel and hung up before he could answer? There have been a couple of times when you dialed him while having sex, not sure if he ever picked up, hoping that he heard you moving on and moving away from him. That'll show him.

But you can't even breathe to talk to him. And what if he doesn't answer? What if he's changed his number?

You leave all his numbers entered on the screen but you don't hit the call button. Not yet. You have to think of something to say. Tell him you love him before your body rejects the air it's trying so desperately to claim into your lungs.

"Hey, are you all right?" a gentle voice asks behind you, and a hand is on your shoulder.

You flashback to that night in the alley, the guy who took advantage of you, but this time it doesn't go that way.

A man with soulful eyes and a kind smile kneels next to you, his hand remaining on your shoulder. "I think you're having a panic attack. Can I help you with that?" His voice is as kind and gentle as he looks, and you nod.

"Can you breathe for me? Like this." He inhales deeply and slowly, and when you try it it feels so foreign but you manage it.

"There you go," he says quietly. "Now breathe out.."

Soon he has your breathing back to normal, and you don't have to force your body to do what it naturally does.

"Tell me five things you can see," he continues.

A shaky breath in. Hey, at least it's a breath. "Um.. the water.. the sand.. the moon.. you.."

That's when you get your first good look at him, beyond the smile that works its warmth into your heart, and the eyes that search yours, exuding humanity that you haven't experienced in a long time. He's really cute. You can't deny that your heart skips a couple of beats.

"One more thing?" he says, his voice soft.

You snap back to reality. "Uh.. a ship.. out there in the distance?"

He glances behind him at the water, seeing the great big liner, possibly a cruise ship, on the inky horizon, and takes a seat next to you. "How are you feeling now?" he asks.

"Good.. I think. Better." You nod. "Thank you."

"May I?" he lifts your hand from your lap and turns the palm up, his fingers poised above your pulse point. You nod again.

He presses his touch to your wrist, and you watch his eyes calculating, his lips silently moving while counting. Despite everything you've been through the past two years, this is the most intimate thing you've felt.

"Your pulse is normal." He gently places your hand back on your lap. "Do you want to go back to the party or do you want to stay out here a little longer? If you want to go back," he adds, "I'll be with you, make sure you're okay."

You opt to stay on the beach, embracing the quiet for a little longer. This is the first time a man has had you alone and hasn't tried to fuck you. It's nice, for once.

Towards the end of the night he leads you back to the party house, guiding you through the throng of people there, the air rife with alcohol and the pungent aroma of weed. You're holding his hand, you realize as you walk together. He's your lifeline in this very moment. You grab your jacket and purse from one of the bedrooms, passing by couples making out, some slipping into rooms to do much more than kissing. To think you could have easily ended up there with a random guy makes your skin crawl.

"What was your name again?" you shout to him over the music.

"Justin!"

"Dustin?"

"Justin!"

You both laugh. You tell him your name and of course he mishears you.

He drives you to the small motel room you're sharing with your friends who are inevitably crashing at the beach house, too drugged or drunk or fucked to return for the night.

Justin smiles at you as the engine idles. "Is it okay if I ask you out?"

You exchange numbers, your heart thrumming with a pleasant nervousness. You haven't had a boyfriend since..

..not since Joel.

Don't think about him.

"You can reach out to me if you ever just feel like talking," he says. "I'm here."

So you do, and after a week of texting and a couple of late night calls and getting to know each other, you go for a date for the first time in three years.

Justin picks you up in a Honda Civic, and as you get comfy in the passenger seat you breathe in the scent of the black ice air freshener and his spearmint gum. The radio blasts Smashing Pumpkins at a level you know is too much but it only adds to the excitement of the evening.

He's a year older than you, native to Louisiana, and on leave from the Army.

Living just a half hour from your campus, you start to spend much of your time together. Movie dates, dinner dates, and dates where you just drive around, talking about nothing and everything.

You only sleep with him three months into your relationship, desiring to take things slow for once, to know him better than you have ever known anyone.

It's nice. It's like what you see in the movies, two people wrapped up in each other, soft, no words needed. For once your head isn't forced down into the pillow, or your pussy spit on. For once it's just normal, and normal feels so good.

June 2008 New Orleans, LA

Bourbon Street is alive, electric, no matter that it's a Sunday night. People will drift into work tomorrow still drunk on Zombies and Hurricanes. The entire street reeks of piss, but people either don't care or have been here long enough that it no longer harasses their senses. But more often than not, people are having too much of a good time to care.

You're behind the bar at little hole-in-the-wall place, slinging daiquiris and kamikaze shots when you hear a familiar voice and a tap on your shoulder. "Hey there, Cherry."

You turn and your eyes go wide. "Tommy!" You reach over the bar to hug him, nearly spilling a beer on him in the process. "It's been ages! How are you?

He looks older, more mature, even though it's only been five years since you last saw him: he's letting his facial hair grow, but his eyes still sparkle with mirth and kindness. "It's good to see you, girl." He's no longer with Sofia, their romance having ended a few years before, on friendly terms or so your cousin claimed. You always blamed yourself for the demise of their relationship, believing that your breakup with Joel cast a shadow over her own connection with Tommy.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

"We're good, just here in town, expanding the business."

"We?" Your hands start to shake, and you put away the bottle of gin you have your grasp on. Your heart starts to pound before the next words even leave his mouth.

"Yeah, me and Joel are lettin' off a little steam, wanted to toss back a few before we go back to the hotel."

You feel his eyes on you before you're even aware that he's here. Looking up, at a small table near the entrance, is Joel Miller. Your heart stops, and you don't know how it is you're still alive. He looks you up and down, appraising every feature and detail about you, and you wonder if you've changed in five years or not. You wonder if he still loves or hates you.

"...and we thought this was that bar where girls dance and pour tequila down guys' throats, but this is just as good 'cause you're here."

Tommy manages to snap you out of your trance. "Oh.. you mean Coyote Ugly.."

"Yeah, they opened one in Austin a couple years back but this one ain't never wanna go nowhere," he motions back with his head to Joel.

You return your gaze to the older brother but he's no longer looking at you, his glance dotting along the crowd, following a younger woman as she saunters up to him, smiling, flirting. Your stomach turns and you force a smile at Tommy.

"Whatever you want is on me."

Tommy's smile and laughter is infectious. "You sure about that, Cherry?"

"I'm sure," you say, pouring out a shot for yourself. "You know, nobody's called me that in a long time."

"What's that?" he catches a bright sparkle on your left hand, and quickly takes it within his own. "Cherry, you didn't tell me you were engaged!"

Joel must have one ear straining to listen because Tommy's outburst got his attention right away and he swivels his head to look at you.

"Yeah.. he's a nice guy." That's how you describe Justin to everyone: he's a nice guy. He'd proposed last year after your one year dating anniversary. "He's in the Army, they're shipping him out a week after our wedding. And I'm going with him."

"He's a good guy if he's an Army man," Tommy approves, just as Joel approaches, the woman he was talking to now gone. "So? Are we invited to the weddin'?"

You can't tell if he's teasing or not, and Joel's poker face gives zero indication as well. "I already sent out save-the-dates, but if you'd like to come I won't object. The more the merrier." For the first time you see Joel up close and your heart stutters, an irregular beat that you'd gotten used to in the aftermath of your disastrous breakup.

He's still so fucking handsome: the dark brown of his hair fading to what you can already see as gray, with gray patches in his beard. There are more lines around his eyes. There's still that jolt of electricity when your gazes meet.

"You happy?" he asks, his countenance giving nothing away of his true feelings, so it's difficult to gage whether he's legitimately asking, or simply being nice.

"I'm happy." But it sounds forced, like taking the pliers to your own mouth to fix your own abscess.

Joel only nods as you pour a couple whiskeys for them. "To Cherry getting married!" Tommy beams his salute and the three of you down the shots quickly.

It's sometime after your shift, and you're in the parking lot with Tommy, his arms around you as he presses you to the side of his truck. Or maybe it's Joel's truck. You don't know and you don't care, all you want is to feel something again. The nearness of Joel all night has rewired your brain, and as Tommy deepens the kiss, you're disappointed that it's not Joel's taste, not Joel's scent that surrounds you. Luckily he's not a bad kisser, and his hands roam everywhere you want them to be.

Better the wrong Miller than no Miller at all, your whiskey-soaked brain tells you.

"Always thought you were pretty," he whispers, hands palming your breasts over your shirt. "But you were Joel's from the moment he set eyes on ya, told me so himself. Leave that one alone, she ain't for you.'"

"He didn't want me enough.." your voice cracks as tears spill effortlessly down your cheeks.

"Don't cry," he says gently. "I don't got any tissues with me." He uses his thumb to wipe away your tears. "Still want me to give you a ride home?"

You nod, telling him you need to make a quick trip to the ladies' room to fix your makeup, and in the narrow hallway where the restrooms are hidden from the rest of the bar, you run into Joel.

"Sorry," you mumble, trying to get around him, but he puts his large hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"You gonna take my brother home and fuck him? Then marry some Army jackass?" he says as in disbelief.

You put your guard up, tougher now than you were five years ago. "What I do is my business. By the way, how's Hailey?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." You push past him and start for the women's room to fix your makeup when Joel stops you again.

"You ain't gonna fuck my brother tonight, or any other night, babygirl," he utters.

There's a fire lit under you now. "Oh? What are you, the Morality Police? Fuck off."

"Fuck me," he says. "You know you want to. You're probably wet from Tommy, and I appreciate his gettin' ya ready for me, but I notice the subtler signs: your eyes are glistenin', you've been lickin' your lips every time you look at me, and you probably haven't noticed, but your nipples are pokin' right through your shirt. I bet they're just beggin' for attention, huh?"

He says all this while just standing in front of you, not crowding you like any other guy would. And you realize he's not even trying to rile you up. He's giving you a choice.

"What makes you think I want you? I have a good man who loves me. He's all I need."

"Needs and wants are different, babygirl. Once you're married you're stuck with him til' death. Hope you realize that."

"I'm aware." But it's already hit you: you'll be with Nice Justin for the rest of your life. You'll be a Nice Wife and maintain a Nice Home for the inevitable Nice Kids you'll have. You hate Joel for putting this thought in your head.

"He fuck you like I did?" he asks in an intimate tone.

You shake your head, already pulling him into the restroom with you. "Joel, no one's ever fucked me like you did."

Your body delights in the quick, sweet reunion with him. It's as if time has never separated you, as if both your hearts are whole again. His mouth greedily devours your kisses. He tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, the latter a bad habit. You're shoved into one of the stalls, fumbling with the lock while Joel's hands find their way across your body, one under your shirt, palming your breast, the other going into your jeans, expertly finding your soaked panties, crooking his fingers into your cunt.

Your back is pressed against his broad chest, his cock already hard inside his jeans, rubbing furiously against your lower back until he bends you forward to press against your ass, finally pulling your jeans and panties down in one go.

Too much time has passed for you to be gentle or even careful. He presses you to the stall door, nothing but heat and raw need between you. Words not needed, your only communication grunts and whispered curses that echo against the tiles of the cramped space.

"You ain't takin' no slow and gentle with me, sugar. i ain't got the patience for that right now." He nudges against you and it's a wonder you don't burn up with all the fire that inflames you. After so long it's a labor of love to fit him again, but as his fingers add pressure to your clit you get wetter, opening for him as easily as you did years ago.

"There she is," he says. "Been waitin' for me, been needin' a real man to fill ya up, ain't ya, babygirl?" he huffs in your ear, breath warm against your skin. "Answer me, baby."

"Yes.." your voice comes out in a hiss, your brain only thinking about his cock, the way it stuffs you, the only thing that completes you.

"That's what I thought. These lil' college boys don't know what to do with such a tight, pretty pussy. And neither does your fiance." He hikes one of your legs up, tucking your knee under his arm, keeping you nice and open, watching himself slide in and out of your weeping slit, slamming himself against you as he sinks his thumb into your puckered asshole, eliciting an all-but muffled gasp from you. "I know you called me just so I could listen to them fuckin' ya.. I know you never came with them, not once. This pussy is mine, has been from the very start."

You're no longer a virginal high school grad, and he takes what he wants from you, giving you what he knows you need.

The door opens but he doesn't stop, just quiets his own noises and clamps his hand over your mouth to squelch your sounds. The stall door jiggles and you put your hand over it until the person grumbles and walks away, muttering about having to piss. When they're gone Joel pumps into you relentlessly, chasing his pleasure and yours. He knows by now what will make you come, which combination of touches and kisses make your knees weak and your clit stand at attention.

"Fucking come for me, you little slut," he whispers, his tone almost loving if you didn't know better, and when you let go the pleasure is almost painful. Years of need and pent-up longing are released as your cunt squeezes around his rigid cock, milking him, smiling when you feel the warm spurt of his come as he presses deep at your cervix.

"That's my girl," he says proudly, your come spilling out already, lining his dick with a mix of both of you. "She's wrecked, split wide open like she's meant to be.. gonna send you back to your man drippin' with my come, used up like a good lil' whore."

His words add a sweet sting to the pleasure that has yet to ebb, resounding through your veins like thunder that takes its time in rolling away from the storm. Whore.. well, he's not wrong.

When your heavy breathing has subsided, you feel him start to slip out of you and you put your hand back on his thigh, a silent gesture to hold off.

"Missed you.. needed you," you mutter, tears of joy and relief and heartache brim in your eyes, until you allow the pleasure of the moment to take over without thought or feeling.

"I know.." he says softly, slipping out of you, careful as you're still sensitive.

That could have been the end. You could have gone your separate ways, but you're drawn to each other, and that doesn't go away easily. When you emerge from the rear entrance of the bar, Tommy looks up, and you can tell he expected that you'd end up with Joel instead. He simply nods as you pass him, walking with Joel to the tiny apartment you share with Justin, who's out of town visiting family. And as you and Joel spend the rest of the night locked in each other's embrace, you realize you don't care if he walks in on you, kicks you out, breaks off the engagement. You're with Joel and nothing else matters.

By dawn you wake up to find that he's gone, leaving only the scent of him on the pillow next to you. No note, no explanation, no goodbye. And once again you're sure you only dreamed up Joel Miller, used him as a mental escape for the life you were tying yourself down to.

It's very atypical for you to forgo a period, even at your most stressed, you can count on seeing that bright red stain on the toilet paper around the middle of every month. And when, by mid-July, you haven't even spotted, the first thing you do is take a pregnancy test.

All the men before have been careful, or you've been fortunate enough not to have a scare. But when you finally force yourself to look at the the little blue plus sign developing on the test strip, you realize this is no scare.

You're pregnant with Joel's baby.

The wedding takes place as expected, and your heart sinks when you walk down the aisle, seeing the joy on Justin's face. You've told him the baby is his, and he doesn't doubt it for a moment, that's how much he loves you. But for a fleeting moment you want so bad for it to be Joel at the altar instead.

The ceremony goes by in a blur, as everyone warned you it would. Group pictures are taken, the videographer is capturing the moments that photos alone can't encapsulate.

"Over here, honey!" photographer gets your attention. You barely hear him as you watch a figure walking out, one of the last guests to leave the church. From behind he looks like Joel, but you can't quite tell, and when your eyes fully focus, he's gone, and your own vision can't be trusted.

Tommy gave his regrets that he couldn't attend, and Joel simply never RSVP'd. But in your heart you know it was him, you know he had to come and see for himself that you're moving on, growing up and growing away from him. The only tether you have to him is the baby growing in your belly.

"Front and center, Mrs. Williams," Justin smirks, giving your cheek a soft kiss. "One more picture then we're onto the reception."

March 2009

Your daughter is born in the springtime, a loud and howling child from the moment she leaves you. The only time she's quiet is when she's in your arms.

"We need to decide on a name," Justin says, a little miffed that his daughter cries when he holds her despite his best efforts to soothe her.

"I told you, I like Ophelia," you say, gathering her into your arms to feed her.

"It's such a prissy name. And I can already tell she's not gonna be prissy."

"Then what do you suggest?" you ask tiredly. He doesn't seem to understand you've gone through labor for twenty four hours, only thinking of himself.

"Eleanor, after my mother."

You groan. "I always hated that name."

"Please, babe. It'll make her so happy to have her granddaughter as her namesake."

"Fine. Fine. But her middle name is Ophelia."

"Deal." Justin smiles as he fills out the paperwork.

"Eleanor.." you tell your baby. "But I'm going to call you Ellie."

Your mother once told you that when you become a parent, your life is not your own anymore. She said it as a kind of warning, a prophecy yet to be fulfilled when you were just a pre-teen, rolling your eyes at her warning you away from all kinds of danger.

You never expected she'd be right. Every waking moment holds more weight than ever before. Ellie is completely dependent on you, even as she grows and becomes more independent. It's you she looks to for validation when she does something right, and you she looks to when she knows she's in trouble.

She's smart as a whip, quick with a comeback and well versed in anything she can get her hands on. She excels in sports too-- individually, at first. As she gets older you notice a little bit of a mean streak in her. While she craves friends and wants to be part of a team, she has trouble making connections sometimes.

You have to wonder if part of that comes from Joel, his stubbornness and his lone wolf tendencies. Has he unknowingly passed down the most insecure parts of himself to his daughter? Sorry, his secondborn daughter?

Now there's literal proof of Joel Miller as a person, in human form, and she's trudging upstairs with her field hockey equipment and slamming her bedroom door.

Between the years of 2004 and 2008 you could almost convince yourself that he didn't exist, that he was a figment of your runaway imagination, born of a father complex and attachment issues. You work on yourself in therapy, feeling small as you divulge the innermost secrets of your heart and the intrusive thoughts, even going so far as to reveal that you've looked for Joel on social media, now that everyone has a profile.

Born of an intrusive thought, you type his name into the search bar on Facebook. Getting quite a few findings of those with the same name, you narrow the search. Joel Miller, Austin Texas His company logo comes up as its own page, and you notice it's changed, probably Tommy's idea as Joel never liked change.

Searching further you find his picture. There it is: Joel Miller, Boston Massachusetts

Huh?

You click on his profile while your heart thumps strongly within your ribcage. You wish you could let it out, set it free.

There he is, looking older than the last time you saw him, the grey more prominent in his hair, looking serious in his selfie. Even though it's just a selfie, a random moment in time, you can't help blushing, as if he's looking at you through the screen, appraising your own measure of aging. You wonder what you were doing that exact moment he took the picture.

But your hunger for knowledge needs to be fed, and scrolling down you swear you misread it at first.

Relationship status: Married

There's a roaring in your ears as your mouse hovers over the name next to those words: Tess Servopoulos

From there you check out her profile, see that she's from Detroit, five years younger than Joel. While his profile pic is only of himself, hers shows them together, on a hiking trail somewhere, Joel's arms around her from behind.

You slam the laptop shut, your blood buzzing in your veins. You feel distractingly alive, the heartache spreading through every muscle and nerve ending. Your past is brought to full fucking focus.

Against your better judgment you open the screen again and search through Tess's photos, specifically the ones of Joel. Most of the comments are from a couple of guys named Bill and Frank, who after some digging you come to find are married, and friends with Joel and Tess. You hit the jackpot when you find a video she uploaded, a fifteen-second clip of Joel holding a baby. Your heart stops when you realize the baby isn't his but Sarah's, and he's now a grandfather.

It feels like you're spying on them. You know so much about them by now, and the one glaring omission is children. They don't seem to have any.

Going back to Joel's profile, you hover the mouse dangerously over the Add Friend button. When you click it, it's the strongest rush you've felt in ages.

Weeks later, he hasn't accepted it. The sparkle of your anticipation is dulled, and with a heavy heart you click to cancel the request.

A couple years down the road you get a notification from Facebook Messenger while you're watching Narcos.

Message Request. Sarah Miller Hey! It's been forever! How are you?

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #ao3 fanfic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller smut #pedro boys #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu

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psychicwavementality · 3 days

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🚨 🚨 ‼️ 🇨🇳🇭🇰 HK/CHINESE SUOPOST V2 PART 1 HAS LANDED!!

I never thought it would see the light of day because this draft got deleted like, 2 times and running. But it's here. It's finally here.

Below the cut is another long and lengthy Suopost V2 about his inherent Chineseness and, may I now congratulate, even further Hong Kongness! Not only that, but now we have Endo Yamato also starting to show signs of diagnosable Chineseness, and because my CN friend and I are ridiculously tweaky when it comes to overanalyzing characters who show even a smidge of Chinese in their eyes—this post was born! Sadly, because I am slow as hell when it comes to writing, this post only contains 11,000 words discussing Suo Hayato. You'll need to wait for Part 2 if you want to see me Hallelujahpost and Chinkpost Endo Yamato... blame my stupid baka life.

Now feast your eyes upon me having to correct my own errors in analysis that turns out to reveal even more Chinese connotations 😭😭😭💪!! This is VERY VERY long and has genuine deep analysis regarding a lot of China/HK culture/like 8 seconds of politics and 15 minutes of history + the weight behind some symbolism in Suo's name + theories regarding Suo's arc + Suo's absolutely yappable connection to 儒家思想/Confucianism.

Later in Part 2, we'll talk about Endo Yamato's biblical symbolism + alchemical influence + his connections to Suo, and how I can jokingly chinkpost him lol. I'll also be uploading a Reddit version of this post onto r/WindBreakerManga either tomorrow or the day after because I have to re-format a lot of things.

So strap in for a long and potentially mind-exploding ride because this is what happened to me while researching/writing all this. BTW, feel free to spam live commentary at me using Tumblr's comment function or something because I'd love to hear your thoughts while reading this whole gigantanorstus assfuck of a post... I'm not okay. I think I went insane. Niisato needs to pay me USD 1,664,800 for a new heart because I think mine stopped beating multiple times during research.

Before we begin, I'd like to tell everyone who has read my previous Suo chinkpost (v1) to DISREGARD EVERYTHING I SAID ABOUT SUO'S FLOWER BEING PLUM BLOSSOMS. You'd think I'd be devastated to find out I have to retcon an entire analysis because I picked out the wrong flower. You'd be expecting Suo to lose Chinese aurapoints. I shit you not: he auramaxxed HARDER. It's like opening a Pandora's Box; you learn about the real flower and then 5 trillion more connotations are thrown at you at Mach 20. It is more over than I thought possible when I wrote the traditionally symbolic Chinese boypreggers marriage room part. And one connection caused me to spiral into another, thus stretching this post's wordcount into unholy numbers 😭

Anyway.

In Suopost v1, I thought these fuckass flowers [IMG 1] next to Suo were plum blossoms [IMG 2] and, ngl! They look plenty like them. But after I read this mind-blowing char analysis + theory document made by u/Snowy-kitten, my jaw fell as:

Oops, Suo's name means Chinese redbud [IMG 3], and if Sakura's flowers are sakura, then Suo's flowers should be redbuds. Damn, I got it wrong, time to rewrite my Suopost. Sorry for spreading misinformation gu—

...What are these flowers called in Chinese anyway?

why do i hear boss musicHOLY SHIT OH MY GOD THEY'RE CALLED 紫荊花. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH M

Taken directly from the wonderful and super informative document which I highly advise you to read to fully understand this post, especially if you have time:

Su (蘇) – sappanwood, a wood that can be made into medicine used to improve blood circulation, treat wounds, and alleviate pain. It also symbolizes revival, resurrection

O (枋) – sappanwood or a tough wooden plank that can be used for crafting, maybe symbolizing the bridge of communication between other characters?

Suo (蘇枋) – Sappanwood, a deciduous shrub of the legume family (ie a small shrub that loses all its leaves in winter), or Chinese redbud, symbolizing family harmony, can be used as treatment for fever (No wonder why Sakura recovered after Suo visited him)

Haya (隼) – Falcon, a symbol of nobility (high status + wealth) in Japan, also symbolizes bravery, power and vision, is an icon of pursuit and movement, heading toward success (Falcon in other cultures also symbolizes freedom, which might have something to do with Suo’s dream – the liberation of slaves)

To (飛) – Fly or Flight

Hayato (隼飛) – Flying Falcon

Analysis: Most likely the key to the success of Sakura or Bofurin’s rebirth, if Sakura became the leader of Bofurin, Suo would most likely be his right-hand, just like Hiiragi and Umemiya

- Although Chinese redbud symbolizes family harmony in Chinese culture, it also symbolizes betrayal/death due to betrayal in the Bible

- Unlike other characters, Suo’s name contains more than one species of tree, would this be a hint of him having more than one identity, hence the traitor theory?*

*I'll elaborate with my own understanding on the traitor theory expanded from the information I've gotten from u/Snowy-kitten's document. Please please pleaser read their theories and their analyses!! It's super super good and deserves so much credit and a lot of this post is built from it.

1. Suo and the 'Chinese Redbud'

Suo's name is extremely fucking insane if viewed from a cultural lens — specifically the symbolism of the 'Chinese redbud' as well as some themes of the 'sappanwood'.

If you're from HK you might already be freaking out with me when you saw those three Chinese characters: 紫荊花, AKA the Chinese name of Suo's second plant after the sappanwood. You might be thinking, User Psychiwavementality, is it truly joever as it is? Is there no coming barack from the HK suoposting? Have we found salvation? Is Suo from Hong Kong, better yet, the Wind Breaker version of Sun Yee On or 14K???

Unfortunately, I have to inform you: no. 🥲 Suo's flower is NOT the bauhinia, known as the '洋紫荊' yang zijing/bauhinia x blakeana/羊蹄甲屬 (yang ti jia shu) which happens to be the official flower of Hong Kong.

Suo's flower is the '紫荊花', or the zijing hua/cercis chinensis, which, in China, can be found in southwest Guangdong, southern Guangxi, and southeastern Yunnan the most. <- These could be places Suo hails from!

However, the Chinese redbud/ZJH and the Bauhinia/YZJ are often used interchangeably (and also incorrectly), causing confusion and mix-ups between both flowers, as HK's 'yang zijing' is sometimes shortened directly to 'zijing'.

Outside of WBK, this shortening is a topic of political discussion. For reference, there is debate around the could-be or could-not-be intentional omission of the 洋 (yang) character in Mainland China when referring to the yang zijing (making it simply zijing (hua) and not the YZJ) as well as how it affects HK.

There was discussion when the HK's Gov. omitted the 'yang' and referred to the YZJ as the 'zijing hua' in our Basic Law. If you want to get a gist of the discussion it feel free to Google Translate this image because mobile Tumblr only lets me embed 10 images and I need to use it sparingly lol.

From Wikipedia:

洋紫荊作為香港法定代表花卉，在《香港特別行政區基本法》第一章第十條提述香港區旗及區徽時被稱作「紫荊花」，英文版則使用泛指羊蹄甲屬的「bauhinia」。然而「紫荊花」一名除在中國南方多泛指羊蹄甲屬外，也可以泛指紫荊亞科的其他花卉，甚至特指紫荊屬物種紫荊（Cercis chinensis）的花。紫荊與洋紫荊兩個物種的花朵外觀有顯著分別，但因中國大陸媒體多依照「紫荊花」一名來宣傳香港市花[註 3]，引致部分中國大陸民眾誤以為香港市花為紫荊的花。

(Edited MTL):

As the legal representative flower of Hong Kong, Bauhinia is called "紫荊花 (ZJH)" when referring to the Hong Kong regional flag and regional emblem in Article 10 of Chapter 1 of the Basic Law of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region.

The English version uses "bauhinia" which generally refers to the genus Bauhinia. However, the name "紫荊花 (ZJH)", in addition to generally referring to the genus Cercis chinensis in southern China, can also generally refer to other flowers of the subfamily Bauhinia, and even specifically refers to the flowers of the genus Cercis chinensis.

There are significant differences in the appearance of the flowers of the two species, Cercis chinensis and Bauhinia x blakeana. However, because the mainland Chinese media mostly uses the name "紫荊花 (ZJH)" to promote the municipal flower of Hong Kong, some people in mainland China mistakenly believe that the municipal flower of Hong Kong is the 紫荊花 (ZJH).

(I'm not shitting you when I tell you even Google Translate didn't pick up on the nuances between yang zijing and zijing hua 😭😭 also the scientific names have me tripping so the MTL might be wrong yet I'm too blurry to correct it properly... if any native Chinese speaker wants to write a proper TL in the comments I allow you to help me!!)

2. What does this mean for Suo?

The Lack of '洋 (yang)':

(This part touches a little on HK/China/UK history and politics.)

Now that you know the difference between the 'yang zijing' and the 'zijing hua', let me explain some possible symbolism that Suo might carry by having the ZJH as his other plant and not the YZJ.

In Chinese, '洋' means 'foreign'. And yes, Suo likes foreign tea and cakes. Anyway, some people think that the omission of '洋’ is a way to be politically accurate as it may carry connotations of HK being colonized by the UK, and the Mainland Gov. is known to be against the colonization of Hong Kong, often being reluctant to admit that HK belonged to the UK in a brief period of history after signing an unequal treaty. The Mainland Gov. commonly asserts that HK has always been a part of China even during the colonial period, claiming that HK was rightfully returned to its roots on the 1st of July, 1997.

Hence, there is the omittance of 'yang/foreign' from 'yang zijing', whether unintentional or not, when referring to HK's flower, resulting in many current-gen Mainlanders referring to it as the ZJH, which if intentional, could be used as a way to linguistically minimize the alienation between HK and China.

Theories/Speculation as to why it was omitted:

There are multitudes of reasons why Nii Satoru could have chosen to use the ZJH instead of the YZJ in Suo's name.

On a practical level, one reason may be because Suo's name is intended to have double meanings—sappanwood and the Chinese redbud—to show that he has two sides to him, most likely being connections to Chinese culture. Nii Satoru might have been unable to use this two-sided symbolism if he used the YZJ instead, hence why he used the ZJH instead of the YZJ; furthermore, there is a cultural story that comes with the ZJH that could very well coincide and foreshadow Suo's arc which I will explain soon. I personally think this is the most likely reason.

Another practical reason is that Nii Satoru genuinely had no idea there was a difference between the YZJ and the ZJH and, if he ends up revealing that Suo is a born-and-raised in HK lad, he made an honest mistake while trying to hint at Suo being from Hong Kong.

Nii Satoru could also not want to be too 'on-the-nose' when hinting at Suo having correlations to HK, OR he wanted to imply that Suo was originally from China and immigrated to HK at a young age — or it could be hinting at his ancestors moving from China to HK, which was common back in the 'golden era of HK' spurred forward by its advancement in the film industry as well as budding business opportunities for being an international trading hub. Either way, it could have meant to be a nod towards Suo being from China and not Japan/HK etc.

On a theory/canon level, Suo could have intentionally chose this Japanese name for himself and intentionally omitted the '洋 (yang)'/'foreign' character. He could've done it because he dislikes its implications, that he's a stranger in a foreign land (Japan). Or he could be touchy about his identity as a 'foreigner' — what differentiates him from the Japanese? Hence why he dresses and expresses himself so Chinese-ly — or he could've done it to show that he's freeing himself of his roots — people who leave their OG culture behind often become walking time capsules of That Particular Period, and the loss of '洋 (yang)' could also imply he's losing his connections to Hong Kong/the triad. The latter ties in with my tiny theory that Suo's hair is short because he cut it as a way to symbolize him breaking away from his shixiong/shidi, yet his past still haunts him in the way his tassel earrings resemble long hair at times. (The flower meaning of ZJH is also very very in line with this latter theory. I will elaborate more in my next part about the meaning of the Chinese redbud/ZJH.)

Suo could also be omitting this character on purpose to reconnect with his Chinese side after immigrating to HK and then Japan, I suppose? This might be EXTREMELY controversial to show in HK/China if he shows bias towards one side's culture by stepping away from the other, and I don't see a way this can be written without stomping on one side's good graces + provoking political disgruntlement amongst HK/CN readers, so this is probably not going to be an option up for consideration (hopefully).

Furthermore, if Suo also shows favor of JP culture/claiming that he's JP over being HK/CN as his arc and that he's abandoning his past identity as a Chinese/HK person, I promise you that some CN readers might become unhappy as there are long-standing grudges between the Chinese and the Japanese from WW2 that are too long to elaborate here. If you're curious to learn about it, search up 'Nanjing Massacre' and 'Unit 731' to see for yourself — please heed a TW for extreme brutality and inhumane torture.

OK, this is the last of all things political, but I promise the historical part will still continue. Let's move on.

3. The Meaning and Stories Behind the Zijing Hua/Chinese Redbud and The Yang Zijing/Bauhinia x blakeana

In Chinese culture, the Chinese redbud/zijing hua has a well-known cultural story behind it. It is deeply tied to the flower meaning of the Chinese redbud -- which has core symbolisms of familial reunion/love (親情) and brotherly harmony (兄弟和睦). And to any SuoSaku enjoyer's delight, they also symbolize steadfast love, passion, and affection; it is known to be a well-received gift for husbands and wives; it can even symbolize a strong and loyal friendship (if you're into that). The growth structure of a Chinese redbud, as said by a user in an online Chinese forum to whom I will graciously quote:

3、倔强坚强

紫荆花的花语为倔强坚强，紫荆花的花朵生长的十分紧凑，就算在阴雨天气，叶片被大风所吹动，不断摇慎态摆，也不会掉落，好似一位倔强的人，永远不会向困难低头，努力拼搏，最终收获成功。

(Edited MTL):

3. Stubborn and strong

The flower language of the zijing hua is stubbornness and strength. The flowers of the zijing hua grow very compactly. Even in rainy weather, the leaves are blown by strong winds and keep swaying cautiously, but they will not fall off. Just like a stubborn person, they will never bow their head to difficulties, work hard and exert oneself to the utmost, and ultimately achieve success.

It can also symbolize new beginnings, just like Sakura's sakura:

紫荊花的象徵意義紫荊花象徵著愛情、美麗和純潔。在中國傳統文化中，紫荊花還被視為春天的使者，寓意著新生命和新的希望。

(Edited MTL)

The symbolic meaning of zijing hua symbolises love, beauty and purity. In traditional Chinese culture, the zijing hua is also regarded as the messenger of spring, implying new life and new hope.

Moving on to English sources, I've basically learned that the Chinese redbud:

Is not resistant to winter frost, but is generally able to survive the cold. Suo's favorite season may be winter, but both the sappanwood and the Chinese redbud are not resistant to either the cold or frost, with the first losing all its leaves in winter and the second potentially dying to snow/frost (like most plants lol.) Despite being resistant to the rain and heat of spring and summer and being able to tolerate degrees under 38°C (remember Suo not breaking a sweat when training in the summer with Furin?), Chinese redbuds fall short when it comes to braving brutal winters, thriving best when the temperature is above 10°C.

They bloom during spring, around March-April. Could this be a parallel as to why Suo idolizes Ume, the 'plum blossom' that can bloom in the cold of winter? For being able to stay resilient and stand proudly/beautifully even amidst harsh and stressful conditions?

Has many parts can be utilized for traditional Chinese medicine, cooking, and decoration. The wood and the bark have been used to treat abscesses, bladder ailments, and head troubles. Treats bladder diseases, post-partum discharges, bleeding piles, and internal parasites; its flowers are used for relieving rheumatic muscles and joint pain. Even the flowers can be eaten raw or pickled, containing vitamin C with a fresh and acidic taste. The bark of young shoots can be used to weave baskets, as the wood of Cercis species is generally of good quality. -> Suo's plants can both weave baskets and act as good wood...

Is also known for its ornamental purposes, and has a neighboring family tree—the Cercis siliquastrum, known as the 'Judas Tree', which is a symbol of betrayal. Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus and committed suicide by hanging himself from a redbud tree. Additionally, I was told by my friend that u/Snowy-kitten realized the kanji for Suo's name is is 蘇枋（すおう), but the tree he represents is Chinese redbud (花蘇芳/ハナズオウ/hanazuou in Japanese). 蘇枋 and 蘇芳 are pronounced the same and one of the hanakotoba (flower language) of 花蘇芳 is apparently death by betrayal.

While the Chinese redbud/ZJH is known for these traits, the YZJ is a little bit different; it was difficult to find meanings and symbolism for the Bauhinia x blakeana due to it being a lesser-known flower + a sterile hybrid flower.

Locally, the leaves of the YZJ are considered "clever leaves" and a symbol of wisdom; sometimes harvested to be dried into bookmarks to bring good luck in studies.

The Bauhinia x blakeana is a hybrid between the Bauhinia purpurea and then Bauhinia variegata. But I could not find anything about the symbolism of the Bauhinia purpurea... I looked at some other ones in the Bauhinia genus, though.

From what I found, the genus has flowers that typically represent new beginnings (is he twinning Sakura?), feminine beauty (he's still ♂ fertile ♂ like that), grace, elegance, and nobility.

Bauhinia kappleri:

Historically, it has been seen as a symbol of unity due to its bilobed leaves resembling joined hands. This symbolism was especially prominent in cultures that valued harmony and cohesiveness. [...] Pink Bauhinia represents grace, unity, and resilience. Its delicate yet sturdy appearance communicates a balance of beauty and strength. [...] In Chinese culture, for instance, it symbolizes renewal and new beginnings [...] Meanwhile, in Western contexts, it often represents appreciation and noble elegance.

Bauhinia acuminata:

The Bauhinia acuminata's striking appearance symbolizes beauty, elegance, and grace. It is often associated with the ideals of feminine beauty and charm. In some cultures, these blossoms are seen as symbols of new beginnings and growth, making them popular choices for weddings and other celebrations.

Bauhinia variegata:

1. [...] the white orchid has held reverence throughout Chinese culture and stands as a symbol of nobility, beauty, and innocence.

2. The Orchid Tree holds symbolic meaning in several cultures. In India, it is associated with love, fertility, and prosperity, often featured in weddings and religious ceremonies. In Chinese culture, Bauhinia variegata is a symbol of beauty, grace, and the fleeting nature of life.

Bauhinia x blakeana in Chinese Sources:

在中國文化中，紫色常代表高貴與權力，而洋紫荊則代表了優雅和力量。此外，洋紫荊還象徵著團結和繁榮，這也使它成為許多盛大活動的首選花卉。

(Edited MTL)

In Chinese culture, the color purple often represents nobility and power, while the yang zijing represents elegance and strength. In addition, the yang zijing symbolizes unity and prosperity, which makes it the flower of choice for many grand events.

I have a headache. 🤕 Am I just yapping or was this all preordained by Nii Satoru?

Do you still remember that Suo's earrings are made of coral? The very coral that symbolizes a lofty status, auspiciousness, nobility, power, and eternity? 🤕

It's all coming together...

The Story of Three Brothers and the Zijing Hua Tree/田真兄弟：

This story could very well be a direct hint towards Suo's future martial siblings + how his arc will end. I vaguely remember(?) studying this passage for DSE unseen 文言文s so I managed to find it again. I'll cross-reference and do a direct word-to-word translation. If you understand Chinese I recommend just reading the 文言文 because it has more of the OG meaning 💪

原文/Original:

京兆田真兄弟三人，共议分财。生资皆平均，唯堂前一株紫荆树，共议欲破三片。翌日就截之，其树即枯死，状如火然。真往见之，大愕，谓诸弟曰：“树本同株，闻将分斫，固憔悴，是人不如木也。” 因悲不自胜，不复解树。树应声荣茂，兄弟相感，遂和睦如初。

註釋/Glossary

（1）京兆：京城地區。

（2）生資：生活資料。

（3）皆：都。

（4）唯：只有。

（5）破：使之破為。

（6）就：開始。

（7）即：立即；立刻。

（8）狀：形狀；狀態。

（9）然：通假字，同“燃”，燃燒。

（10）翌日：第二天

（11）愕：驚訝。

（12）諸：眾；

（13）斫（zhuó）：砍。

（14）勝：承受；控制。

（15）憔悴：枯死。

（16）故：所以。

（17）解：分解。

（18）其：他家的。

（19）堂：門。

（20）株：棵。

（21）遂：於是。

句子翻譯/Sentence TLs:

1、翌日就截之：第二天就準備截斷它。

2、狀如火然：形狀像被火燃燒過一樣。

3、樹木同株，聞將分斫，故憔悴，是人不如木也：樹本來是同根的，聽到要砍斷分開，所以枯死了，我們人都不如樹木。

4、樹應聲榮茂：紫荊樹聽到（田真��）話後（立刻）枝葉繁茂（了起來）。

My attempt at an English TL:

In the capital city [Beijing], the three Tianzhen brothers divided their property. All other assets [means of living] had already been evenly divided; all except the Chinese redbud tree/zijing tree in front of the door. They discussed and agreed to split the tree into three pieces each. The next day, they prepared to cut the tree down, but the tree immediately withered to death, as if it had been torched by a flame. The oldest brother looked at the sight and was extremely stunned, saying to his younger brothers: "This tree is originally from the same root. It heard it was going to be separated after it was felled, and thus, it withered. We, as humans, were no match for/couldn't live up to even a tree."

Because they were unable to bear with/contain their remorse, the brothers decided not to cut the tree. When the Chinese redbud/zijing tree heard the eldest brother's words, it immediately sprouted flowers once more. The Tianzhen brothers were astonished and emotional and thus returned to their harmonious relationship from the beginning.

From this, I'm heavily inclined to believe that:

Suo is one of three brothers/martial siblings.

Suo left/they left Suo due to family issues or family inheritance trials.

Suo's arc will end well, with all brothers reaching an understanding and becoming friendly again.

OR, Suo is the Chinese redbuds/zijing tree in this scenario.

Suo might end up facing Endo because the passage mentions 'as if it had been torched by a flame [状如火然]'. Endo's name is '棪堂' -> this also means something else which u/Snowy-kitten mentioned, it being 'a tree that bears edible red fruit' in Chinese, which contributes to Endo's biblestuff. But let's analyze it later in Endo's part.

Chinese can somewhat be considered playing Pictionary—if you separate the words from 「棪堂」 into three: 「木」、「炎」、「堂」， you could literally interpret this as, in 文言文/Classical Chinese, 「Tree/Wood」、「Flames Rising」、「Courtyard/Doorfront」

This coincides with the "Chinese redbud tree/ZJH" looking as if it "had been torched aflame" in front of the house/the courtyard/the door.

In conclusion, this might allude to Suo having to fight Endo, or Endo having to fight Suo to get him back due to a family feud—and Suo might get heavily injured. His martial brothers might realize the impact of their actions and finally retreat and make up.

Suo and Sappanwood:

Sappanwood can make a type of valuable red dye named brazilin.

The character of 'Su' (蘇) in JP also means resurrection, reviving, resuscitation, and rehabilitation.

The red pigment found in the sappanwood tree (brazilin) has also been used to treat wounds and ward off infections, encouraging faster healing.

Sappanwood isn’t as favoured for extracting dyes as brazilwood, though—the discovery of brazilwood led to a boom in red pigments due to its greater concentration, whereas sappanwood was much less saturated in comparison.

This is pure yappanese but maybe Suo sees himself as inferior compared to his brothers...

That's the color of the dye sappanwood creates and that is the color of Suo's eye and his coral earring. I don't need to say anything more, right?

4. FALCON KICK 𓅃𓅃 FALCON PUNCH 𓅃𓅃

Rejoice!! We have made it to the next section of Suo's name at last!! I never thought I'd get here!!!! LET'S MAKE THIS QUICK (it's not quick).

Again, from the document that u/Snowy-kitten wrote, "隼" means 'falcon' and "飛" means 'fly/flight', spelling out "隼飛" lit. 'flying falcon'.

Reviewing the Symbolism Blargh Off This Page: (OG text has been slightly edited)

"The falcon represents vision, freedom, and victory. Hence, it also connotes salvation to those who are in bondage whether moral, emotional, or spiritual." <- I find it very interesting that many of Suo's symbolisms tie back to things relating to a new beginning/healing: salvation, revitalization, resurrection, a new hope, etc., which falls in line with his dream: the liberation of slaves. And look, I know this possibly means Suo breaking free of whatever chains down his heart, but ACTUALLY Suo will be stuck in 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 bondage and then be saved by EndoSaku. Trust me y'all I'm Nii Satoru's right-hand man

"In Christian symbolism, the wild falcon represents the unconverted, materialistic soul and its sinful thoughts and deeds. The tamed bird symbolizes the Christian convert pursuing his lofty thoughts, hopes, and aspirations with courage." <- I don't think Suo is wild or tame or Christian in particular, but you could take it as current-Suo suppressing and masking his true identity/emotions. And that actually makes sense when you remember how Suo nearly went Insanity.PNG during KEEL Arc and Sakura had to stop him from continuing to pummel a guy when he was down; when Sakura admitted he was pissed at himself and turned away Suo thought 'I really am no match for you'. On one hand, this could be explained extremely well if we view it from a Confucian + Suo's theory of adulthood lens which will be talked about later in Part 6. However, this could also symbolize Suo being bound in emotional chains and having... wtf, 'sinful thoughts'? That he's suppressing?? Maybe that's why he doesn't use his phone around people coz there's a bunch of 料 (blackmail) in there 🤣. And when Suo gets his arc I suppose he gets 'tamed' and is finally free to pursue his aspirations with courage (being with Furin and supporting Sakura), which will effectively act as another new beginning/his healing—further tying into his whole shtick surrounding resurrection revitalization healing salvation blah blah blah. (POV: the 'Suo has no Christian allusions' part comes to bite me back in the ass via. Taiping Rebellion parallels where an ethnically Han Chinese mf in Suo's triad or Noroshi proclaims to be "Endo's brother-in-christ" slash the brother of the WBK Jesus Christ. And then I kill myself)

"In Egyptian hieroglyphs, the falcon glyph was used in words and phrases such as 'god', 'pharaoh', 'greatness', 'year', 'sovereign', 'star', 'hour', 'prayer', 'land', and 'world'. It was associated with the deity of the sky, of kingship, and of the sun, Horus [...] In early dynasties, the king’s ascension was known as the “Flight of the Falcon”." <- Aha! AHA! YEAH MORE NOBILITY HOURS AND A DIRECT REFERENCE TO THE DEFINITION OF HAYATO. Okay. So. This is highly unlikely to happen but imagine Suo becomes the head of his triad branch. Or maybe this means that Suo is the heir to something lofty... deadass the fated ascension to big bad boss which he skedaddled from or was denied from, who knows?

"The Eye of Horus, the Egyptian symbol for the Sun, depicts a stylized falcon's eye and face markings. It signified royal power and protection from danger, evil, and ill health." <- More nobility/higher status allusions and illness-warding shit, typical Suo Hayato behavior.

"A human-headed falcon served as a symbol of the human soul on its flight from this world to the afterlife. Similarly, the crossed arms of Egyptian mummies were intended to symbolize the folded wings of a falcon at rest." <- And here we have more Suoshit related to afterlife-isms resurrection-isms and new beginnings-isms. Chat can I stop talking about Suo Hayato ... he's just a never-ending Pandora's 24-hour unboxing video...

"The sport of hunting with falcons was associated with nobility in Europe, Japan, and China, where falcons symbolized keen vision, boldness, and power." <- 'Takagari (鷹狩) is Japanese falconry, a sport of the noble class, and a symbol of their nobility, their status, and their warrior spirit.' - Wikipedia.

To continue with Wikipedia: In the 13th century, hawking became popular among the rising samurai class as well as among court nobles (kuge). At that time, the practice of hawking was a means of resolving struggles over land ownership among lords. <- This feels a little similar to the splitting of property mentioned in the Tianzhen brothers!

What's more interesting about falconry is that falcons typically wear 'falcon hoods' that blind them, which forces them to be calm.

The bird wears a hood, which is used in the manning process (acclimatizing to humans and the human world) and to keep the raptor in a calm state, both in the early part of its training and throughout its falconry career. Out of all the falconer's aids, the hood is the most important piece of equipment. There are various styles and types of hoods for raptors within falconry. The hood is handmade, often from kip leather or suitable kangaroo leather. —Wikipedia

Suo's eyepatch is made from leather as mentioned in his character sheet even though nowadays, a lot of eyepatches and most medical eyepatches are made with cloth and/or other adhesive materials.

What's more, a majority of traditional falconry gloves/gauntlets have tassels extremely close if not similar designs to the earrings Suo wears:

Remember when Suo once mentioned that he had an 'ancient Chinese dragon spirit sealed away in his eye', hence the eyepatch? Maybe there's weight behind that joke because he might lose his composure if the eyepatch is taken away.

If Suo is a trained falcon belonging to his family—although he's 'flying' right now, either for a hunt or free roam—he's been educated in a way that eventually, he will always turn back and roost on the gloves of his master.

"The falcon was seen as the bird of Princes, the gyrfalcon the bird of Kings, and the eagle the bird of Emperors. [...] A falcon [would be released] at the funerals of Pharaohs. This illustrates the ancient view of raptors as intermediaries between the divine and eternal heavens and the mortal earth." <- The 'bird of Princes' part really makes me want to believe Suo is truly in a high-ranking and potentially triad-inheriting position of power; he could really be a 'prince' of sorts for his gang... The O (枋) in Suo can stand for a 'sturdy plank', and even 'raft/boat', which might symbolize him being a bridge of connection between the 'divine and eternal heavens' (his triad/family/whatever dude) and the 'mortal earth' (Furin).

"Furthermore, falcons are represented by the constellation Aquila [lit meaning eagle], as are all raptors. This constellation is said to confer the qualities of boldness, ambition, courage, liberty, generosity, penetrating vision, and a noble spirit, along with a gift for martial arts and the fabrication of weapons.

"This contrasts with a vulnerability to and enmity toward reptiles and their symbolic qualities of deceitfulness, underhandedness (venom), vindictiveness, and baseness of spirit.

[OP's Quick Interjection: from the source some mf added a little 'that aint falco' after the following part and I gotta agree. But also, falcons and eagles are both under raptors as birds of prey, and from what I've seen, Suo is the only known person in WBK so far to have a bird of prey in his name, so I'll still keep this here as food for thought—as well as a theory I have for later.]

"Reflecting this opposition, the battling eagle and serpent has been a motif from ancient times, common to Western, Eastern and New World civilizations. See classical Roman statuary, the ancient coat of arms of Mexico and the Garuda emblems of Indonesia, Thailand and Ulan Bator. The dichotomy can also be seen in the eagle and the rattlesnake competing to be symbols of the Revolutionary United States in the 18th century."

Right. So. I have a lot to say about this chunk. The first is the numerous stories of raptors, mainly eagles, and serpents/snakes, as well as my theory that the family Suo has been sworn into will feature new characters with birds of prey as their joining kanji.

I'll elaborate on the latter first because it's shorter: so far, out of all of the named and introduced people in WBK up till Rooftop Fight, not a single person except Suo contains the character of an animal capable of flight, much less a bird of prey.

The only person who comes remotely close to having birds as a symbol is Chika Takiishi and the full-page spread ft. his fight with Umemiya which u/Just_EveB theorized to be the karura, which originates from the Garuda in Hinduism (will also elaborate later). But even Chika doesn't have any bird radical in his name. Shishitoren isn't exempt from this; the gang known for people with animal radicals only contains land mammals and reptilians:

Tomoyama Choji (兎耳山丁子) = rabbit

Togame Jo (十亀条) = tortoise

Sako Kouta (佐狐浩太) = fox

Arima Yukinari (有馬雪成) = horse

Kanuma Minoru (鹿沼稔) = ♫ Shikanokonokonokokoshitantan ♫

(There's also Inugami Teruomi who is a dog for "inu" but I CAN'T FIND HIS KANJI AND HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A WIKI PAGE??? FREE MY MAN!!!)

Even other characters who happen to have an animal in their name e.g. Hiiragi Toma (柊登馬) (馬 -> horse) don't have an animal capable of flight, much less a bird of prey, and no one has the radical for bird (鳥).

Hence, I'm genuinely going to go out on a limb and say that the family Suo has sworn into—or his biological brothers or martial brothers or whatever fucked-up triad business he's in—will have characters containing '鳥' (bird) or one of the following in their names: 鷹、鵰、鳶、鵟、鷂、鴞、鵂鶹、魚鷹、鷲, which are respectively eagle, eagle but different*, kite, buteo, the birds that are under here, owl, collared owlet, osprey, and vulture. OR, if these family members have Chinese names instead of JP, it's plausible they have the same pinyin pronunciation as some of these.

*Btw, this is the difference between a 鷹 and a 鵰. Don't even ask me tbh

Next up, let's talk about the correlations between birds of prey and serpents. I did some scouring through the internet and dug up quite a lot of stuff.

Let's first establish that the only person so far who has been shown with serpent/snake imagery is none other than Endo Yamato himself.

(And yes, I switched to desktop just to embed more images, I'm crying. Anyway, these panels are all taken from Chapters 144 and 145.)

The tattoo on Endo's neck, an infinity symbol, is derived from the ouroboros, a snake/serpent/dragon biting its own tail.

It symbolizes 'eternal cyclic renewal' or 'a cycle of life, death and rebirth'. Wow, so Suocore.

(BTW, in some religions... the ouroboros is also a fertility symbol. This just in: Suo, Sakura, and Endo are all ♂fertile♂)

I have so much more to say about Endo's tattoos but that's reserved for when I'm done with Suo Hayato... so let's go back to the topic of serpents and eagles and their tales.

Here's some prominent stuff I found:

Aesop's fable: This is the first example I managed to find. It's a story about how kindness will always be repaid. I honestly can't seem to think of a way this coincides with Suo/Suo's family/Endo etc. You can click on it to read the story yourself. Like, I think Endo's on a path to pseudo-redemption or at least 'potential future allies', and I can't see a reason why? He'd want to poison? Somebody?? Even 'figuratively'. Like, let's pretend my theory of Suo's family having birds of prey in their names is correct. Why would one of Suo's martial bros, or better yet the head honcho or something, swoop in to save this Countryman from Endoshittalk? But well, if anyone can think of anything, feel free to comment on it!!

Thus Spoke Zarathustra:

An eagle soared through the sky in wide circles, and on him there hung a serpent, not like prey but like a friend: for she kept herself wound around his neck. “These are my animals,” said Zarathustra and was happy in his heart. “The proudest animal under the sun and the wisest animal under the sun” […]

“That I might be wiser! That I might be wise through and through like my serpent! But there I ask the impossible: so I ask my pride that it always go along with my wisdom. And when my wisdom leaves me one day—alas, it loves to fly away—let my pride then fly with my folly.”

Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, “Zarathustra's Prologue,” translated by Walter Kaufmann.

This is something that also came up, yet this is a more different example compared to the beginning—instead of feuding, the eagle and snake are in harmony, representing the mind and body becoming one, as well as taken from u/__Can__ from the linked Reddit post detailing what they symbolize:

It represents the highest strivings/capacities in man (eagle) and the lowest and more earthly/instinctive faculties (serpent). They are not opposed to one another but are rather one. Just like the other metaphor Nietzsche used, the tree (thought as the self-actualizing man) that if it wants to grow towards heaven (the highest in man) has to have its roots deep beneath the earth in the dark and evil layers of the psyche so to speak. You have to integrate your obscure and evil side in order to become whole.

There's a lot of tree imagery that I'm not really familiar with but know exists in WBK... such as that time Sakura's branch was nearly snapped off by Endo. To me this feels more like a general 'concept' that can be written into the story rather than an important foreshadowing towards future arcs ... plus I haven't read the book so I can't commentate on the philosophies of Nietzsche, so far the only thing I know about him is that he is one of the philosophers outspoken on overcoming Nihilism... taken from a deleted Reddit user:

People who haven’t read or understood Nietzsche think he is a nihilist, which is a bit understandable as his thought is complex, and he was a devastating critic of both dominant and trendy movements/institutions and their values. I believe he once described himself as a maggot that goes into a wound to eat away at the decaying flesh to clean it out. He also described himself as philosophizing with a hammer. In many ways, he is one of the intellectual fathers of postmodern deconstructionism. Which can often border on the nihilistic, but Nietzsche wasn’t simply trying to tear everything we believed in down for its own sake, his intention was to make things better.

From a site (really good read about Nietzsche and Buddhism):

Nietzsche aimed to overcome nihilism by affirming the unconditional embrace of existence. For him, life was not to be denied but rather created by one’s own value system, and built on the foundation of understanding that there is no inherent meaning in the universe. Nishianti describes this process as “dying the great death in the abyss of nihility and coming back to life again” (1983, 233). In doing so, active nihilism becomes a transitional stage rather than an end in itself. It is the abyss into which we must descend, “the darkest night before the dawn” (Nietzsche, 1968, 12). It is through the experiential stages of active nihilism that an individual strives for the heights of the ideal being, the übersmench. He asserted that living by one’s own ‘noble morality’ is characterized as a vigorous, free, and joyful existence, ruled by an innate “will to overpower, and will to rule” (1968, 16). From his works, it is evident that Nietzsche detested the weak and humble man who sought to escape the realities of life.

I can somewhat link Nietzsche's theories on nihilism with the process of creating the Philosopher's Stone (nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, rubedo), which is suuuuper interesting because Endo has vaguely alchemic symbols tattooed onto him. But again I'm digressing.

Norse Mythology [1] and [2]: According to ancient Norse mythology, the World Tree Yggdrasil has an unnamed eagle at the top and a serpent/dragon named Nidhogg at the bottom, and beneath the eagle there is a hawk named Vedrfolnir, standing for '"storm pale", "wind bleached", or "wind-witherer". Between them, there is also a squirrel named Ratatoskr who carries messages between the eagle and Nidhogg.

From Wikipedia: In historical Viking society, 'níð'(nid) was a term for a social stigma, implying the loss of honor and the status of a villain. Thus, its name might refer to its role as a horrific monster in its action of chewing the corpses of the inhabitants of Náströnd: those guilty of murder, adultery, and oath-breaking.

It's faster to just attach images of me and my friend tweaking:

I might one day do a separate post about Norsestuff and Furin because this is really interesting.

This entire Reddit comment section: Talks about the historical significance of the eagle and the snake in tales, depictions, etc. From u/Wayrin:

This symbol goes way way way back. There are depictions of eagles with snakes going back to Babylon and Elam around 3000 BCE. Of course the image was borrowed by everyone and the Egyptians saw it as Horus defeating Seth. Similarly Ahura Mazda was depicted as an eagle and Ahriman as a dragon. The Greeks borrowed the idea of the eagle as a symbol of resurrection from later Egyptian tradition and then it starts popping up everywhere. India, Indonesia, Rome and all over the Mediterranean. Most of these traditions use the Eagle to represent some great good. Usually a god related to the sun combating the forces of evil the snake. We believe the symbol to be borrowed and expanded (except for Mesoamerica) since they have so many commonalities. A lot of the stories have the Serpent winning over the Eagle before the Eagle triumphs. If you can access it, this is my source "Eagle and Serpent. A study in the Migration of Symbols." It was written in 1939 though so take it with a grain of salt.

And from u/tonycmyk, about ancient Mesopotamia:

[...] The snake/serpent has always represented the giving of knowledge to humans and the connection to earth. The eagle has always represented power over the earth and war. And this symbolism can be traced back through every ancient culture we know of and probably the ones we don’t. Powerful stuff.

Something not related to Suo: So about the Karura... the theorized demon JoJo stand that Chika has in the spread originated under 'Garuda' in Hinduism. You can read more about Garudas VS. Nagas here and the common point between Karuras and Garudas is that they're both depicted as people who feud constantly with dragons/serpents/snakes. In Hinduism, though, Nagas aren't depicted as evil like in Christianity. (And they're also a symbol of fertility... Endo's more ♂fertile♂ than Suo confirmed...)

5. Final Closing Notes on Suo

So, in summary, what do I think about Suo?

... What do I think about Suo... (crushing the chopsticks in my hand) I have multiple proposals as to what Suo is doing in Furin and what's going on with his family. And other Suostuff in general.

Falcon flying away: - To me, I see this as Suo leaving the family for a brief period, similar to how falconers can train their falcons to hunt but inevitably return to their owner. - If Suo's arc involves him cutting ties with his family, then this part could also symbolize Suo's desire to leave his original background behind in favor of Furin. - If the falcon symbolizes Suo's family as a whole, then this could represent the downfall of Suo's triad/noble family too, or that they're conducting some of their business elsewhere from their place of origin (*suspiciously Chinese ringtone starts to echo from my phone holder*)

u/Snowy-kitten's traitor Suo theory: Suo could be a spy in Furin. He could be scoping out the area for his own triad/gang/whatever. But what's most curious is the already-existing relevance between Endo and Suo that u/Snowy-kitten pointed out: Suo’s given name and Endo’s given name, Hayato and Yamato respectively are the names of two ancient Japanese tribes. [...] The Hayato is a tribe of ancient Japanese people that existed during the Nara period. The Yamato is another tribe of ancient Japanese people that existed alongside the Hayato. The Hayato frequently resisted the Yamato rule until the year 720 when the Hayato rebellion broke out. It was a rebellion of the Hayato against the Yamato. The rebellion ended in the year 721 with the Yamato being victorious. The interesting thing about the name 'Yamato' as u/Snowy-kitten also mentions is that its kanji (哉真斗) holds almost no meaning in JP. In Chinese, though, this can more or less translate to an expression, 'Ah, a real fight!' as '哉' in classical Chinese can be translated into an exclamation of sorts (「哉」可表示感嘆、疑問及反問語氣，相等於「啊」、「呢」、「嗎」), the '真' translates to 'real/true', and the '斗' (or 鬥 in trad) translates to 'fight'. So in the end, the Serpent VS. Eagle thing might happen in the form of Endo fighting Suo himself or Endo fighting one of Suo's family members.

Tsuge-chan and Suo: Remember this part?

Yeah, so, wtf was that? Fun facts on Tsuge's name from u/Snowy-kitten again (thank you bro you're saving my life):

I feel like Tsuge is going to be interlinked with Suo's backstory, that maybe he knows something more about Suo's 'family' than anyone in Furin should. Whether or not the XL river in Tsuge's name can be crossed with a bridge from another character's name or not... IDK we'll see if said bridge can be crossed when we get to it or burnt in favor of Suo lol... because Suo mentions bridge building in his character song gg

My final hard read on Suo's arc (take this with 2 mouthfuls of salt): - Suo will be called away briefly and leaves Furin either without notice or on short notice. He might leave behind enough clues to let Furin know why or where he's going. Or he might leave none at all, and Tsuge has to guess and explain what's most likely going on. - Endo might have to fight Suo in some way. Or he ends up fighting Suo's older martial siblings (the 'eagle') and triumphs over them. - If the oldest is truly the 'eagle', then there will be a younger one, the second-in-command, the 'hawk', like in Norse mythology. - I might come up with more stuff and I'll edit this into here as time comes.

6. I Lied

Suo isn't over. We still have to talk about how well he fulfills the shit we learnt in the HKDSE about our goat Johnny Hung's virtues/morals/principles.

So anyway, this is Johnny Hung our fucking GOAT!!!!!:

AKA Confucius lmao. Sorry it's an inside joke

This man is the reason I had to memorize so much classical Chinese sayings and literature that eventually culminated into Knowledge for the Suopost. It was all built towards this moment :( Let's start with an explanation of 論仁、論孝、論君子 as well as 五倫/四端！

...User Pyschicwavementality, wtf is this?

(Stares at you with the most depressed, sick, and haunted eyes) Chinese lore.

I will sadly not be sane if I explained every single one of these sayings to you guys. (Mutters) I mean I did have to memorize all of them back in the day but I'd kms elaborating on all of them so. I'm just going to take the relevant ones that could tie into Suo's character.

Let me first establish: the core of Confucianism revolves around "仁、義、禮、智、信、恕、忠、孝、悌". The arguably quote unquote """""important""""" ones (to today's discussion and in What I Learnt in general anyway) would be 仁義禮智信 and also 孝, of which I will now try? My best? To explain?? Please forgive me I learned everything in Chinese and it's really hard to do an accurate translation/analysis without going deep into culture and history 😭

CLASSICAL CHINESE 101

仁：This is read as rén. It is like... altruism, betterment, and love, I guess? Rén is how you interact with people, it is the innate connection and bond and interaction between human beings. (人與人之間互相關懷，尤其以關愛自己的親人最為重要。) It is respect and love and doing good deeds and Kind deeds out of our inner Goodness in our hearts. It is born from our inner individual and it affects our actions and what we do. We aim to always be a 'jūnzǐ' （君子）in Confucianism, someone who embodies all of Confucianism as the "self-improving and good-hearted" individual. To be empathetic and the kindest/most altruistic and loving person to one and all; to treat everyone equally from our innate Goodness—that is more or less rén. In the ideal society of Confucianism, everyone practices rén. This would mean society would always be harmonious.

義：this is read is yì. It is morality, justice, and helping others when in need. It is doing what is right and according to rén.

禮：this is lǐ. It is respect, treating people with manners, following social rules under rén, showing filial piety to your parents and elders, etc.

智：this is zhì. It is the pursuit of knowledge, creation, innovation, and improvement. It is having the intelligence to separate right/wrong and good/evil.

信：this is read as xìn. It is to have faith and belief in our beliefs and pursuits and our governing body. It is also integrity, honesty, and truthfulness. Whether it be a person, an organization, a business, or a government, they must have integrity as their core value.

(Additional) 孝：this is read as xiào and is essentially filial piety. Confucius believed that respect and love towards our parents should not be seen as an 'obligation', but rather something inner from the heart. There are four 'levels' of xiào: 孝順、孝敬、孝養、孝承 (xiàoshùn, xiàojìng, xiàoyǎng, xiàochéng). This is super complicated to go through so if you're bored and have tons of free time on your hands, feel free to run this PDF through a translator to get a better idea on what xiào is.

To get an idea on xiào, Confucius said that, if our parents became old and we only send them food and money, this is no different from raising a dog or a horse (孝養). He says, "Without respect (敬), where is there a difference?". When his disciples asked what we must do to respect (敬) our parents, he answered "We must not turn our backs on them [or more specifically, do not turn our backs on lǐ (etiquette)]. We serve them according to etiquette while alive; bury and commemorate according to etiquette after death."

But anyway, in turn, parents must also treat their children with all the above-mentioned virtues and said parents need to respect their parents with the same attitude as well. In theory, this goes both ways.

There's also Mencius' beliefs branched from Confucius' teachings (still part of Confucianism):

惻隱之心：read as 'cèyǐn zhī xīn'. This is your innate ability to feel compassion and empathy. Some people always see the "evil" around them and fail to see the goodness inside people and thus choose to be "evil" in turn. Mencius, one of Confucius' disciples, believed everyone was born kind and carried compassion. For those who are unfortunate, people will sympathize with them out of their own kindness; for those who are weak, people will have compassion for them and reach out to help them. He believed that people should never abandon their inner kindness, as kind people will always be rewarded by the kindness of others.

是非之心：read as 'shìfēi zhī xīn'. This is the innate ability to differentiate right and wrong actions as well as morally incorrect/correct decisions others make and reflect on them to judge why it is wrong and what not to do.

羞惡之心：read as 'xiūwù zhī xīn'. This is the innate ability to feel shame and guilt for making mistakes or doing things that are not following lǐyí (禮儀). It is also feeling scorn/disgust for others who do not follow lǐyí (禮儀).

辭讓之心：read as 'círàng zhī xīn'. This is the innate ability to feel thankful when others do something kind towards you, and you will feel like you need to pay it forward. It is giving others opportunities in exchange of your own and taking a step back to put others in mind first.

There's also the concept of inter-relationship hierarchy from the foundations of filial piety, which stipulates the order of respect should go from 君臣、父子、夫婦、兄弟、朋友 -> Lord/Emperor & Gov., Father-Son, Husband-Wife, Brothers, and Friends

Additional aid via. translations of my super helpful diagrams I made ages and ages ago about how to differentiate 仁義禮智:

(2) Analogy: POV you are in Ancient China and you see an elderly man killing a random guy

(3) Because you have 惻隱之心 (cèyǐn), you feel pitiful for the guy being killed. Because you have 是非之心 (shìfēi), you can judge and realize why the elderly man killing the guy is wrong. Because you have 羞惡之心 (xiūwù), you feel angry that the elderly man is killing the guy.

(4) Because in Ancient China, the lǐ [social rules] is to respect your elders [filial piety], but because the elderly man is doing something not in accordance with lǐ and yì (禮儀) [social rules and justice], you will do what is right (the lǐ action) and stop the elderly man from getting killed.

(5) Think: your choice to act and do correctly and the correct act itself is yì; your heart's inner compassion is rén; your ability to tell if the situation is in accordance with lǐyí (禮儀) or not is zhì; and the environmental/social rules = lǐ, e.g. respecting your elders. When you do actions that are not fulfilling yì, you feel guilty because you have 羞惡之心 (xiūwù). Rén is inner moral/virtue requirements [to be a 君子 jūnzǐ)，whereas yì is your outward action.

(6) Oh, and don't forget: 羞惡之心 (xiūwù) is feeling disgusted/hateful when you see others do something not in accordance with 禮儀 (lǐyì). If you do non-lǐyì things yourself, you will feel ashamed.

(7) Adding on to the last sentence in (5), 'rén' is not a requirement; it is inner 'love' exuded from the heart. If you are forced or required to do so, that is not 'rén', that is 'duty'.

So how does this all tie into Suo Hayato?

(Shakes my fist full of documents) so this is where I start CRAZYMAXXING.

If you also lovehate this man you might have already made some connections between Suo and the above few values I've described. Otherwise let me elaborate: when dear old Niisato made Suo to be the most stereotypically Chinese lad ever, he also managed to include a shitton upstanding moral traits that a jūnzǐ (君子) would have, essentially making Suo an amazing representation of core Confucian beliefs (so far as of writing this post in my theory state of mind).

When Suo talks about 'growing up' or taking the steps to adulthood, he mentions one of the most important core values being able to make your imagination reality as well as empathy.

You could actually simplify rén into putting yourself in another person's shoes to see/think/feel from their perspective, and one famous saying from Confucius is to wish no harm to come upon others that you do not wish to come upon you, which ties in with Kanuma mocking the fallen Shishitoren member and only starting to feel panicked once he realizes the same harm was going to happen to him. ("己所不欲,勿施於人。")

Suo also insinuates the ability to chase your goals and turn them from dreams into reality is another part of 'attaining adulthood'. You can boil this down to being able to fulfill what you say/living up to your claims/fulfilling your beliefs. Honesty and integrity also play a major role in Confucian beliefs. There are a few sayings under xìn '信‘ that Confucius said about this:

5.1 A jūnzǐ (君子) must be mindful of what they say and do things swiftly/efficiently/quickly. 5.2 A jūnzǐ (君子) does not endorse a person just because he speaks favorably, nor does he reduce a man's worth just because he has a bad impression of him. 5.3 A jūnzǐ (君子) will feel shameful if he cannot go through with what he said he will do. 5.4 [Text Before Image] If one's name/renown is not righteous, his speech will not be reasonable; if one's speech is not reasonable, he will not be able to accomplish anything. If things are not accomplished, the law will not be able to reach into one's heart; if the law cannot reach people, the punishment will not be fair; if the punishment is unfair, the common people will be at a loss. [Text In Image] Therefore, leaders must be steadfast and reasonable in both what they do and what they say. When leaders speak, they must not be careless (read: 'whatever' energy) or rash.

^^ When you translate this, doesn't this essentially reflect Umemiya as a leader? Which also falls in line with Suo seeing Ume as his ideal 'picture' for adulthood and further aligning w/Suo's statement of 'making your imagination reality'?

It doesn't end here though...!!!

KEEL ARC! When Suo got PISSED as hell seeing his friends around him hurt, Sakura had to step in to stop Suo from losing composure in Chapter 50 | Extreme Emotions. Remember when I talked about explaining how this could be understood SO WELL from a Confucian lens in Part 4?

What Sakura said: 'I'm pissed as all hell at myself. I was talking big [I can 'em all on my own], and look what's happened. But getting pissed off isn't gonna help. We need to focus on what we have to do.'

(Pokes my finger at statement 5.3 and 5.4)

This ABSOLUTELY makes Suo's reaction called for ("I really am no match for you") because right now Sakura is embodying the core values of Confucianism better than Suo was moments prior. In that moment, Sakura was the one closer to being a jūnzǐ (君子). At that moment, Suo was the one who should've been learning and modeling after him.

Remember 羞惡之心 (xiūwù)? It is feeling disgusted/hateful when you see others do something not in accordance with 禮儀 (lǐyì). If you do non-lǐyì things yourself, you will feel ashamed.

Suo was disgusted/hateful at the KEEL member for hurting his friends. He may have reflected and felt shame when Sakura came up to stop him.

It's still not over though!

Suo has consistently shown contempt for those who are older than him yet do not practice the same values of 仁義禮智信! Another one of the major Suo moments:

"Goodness... How self-centered. Even to the very end. To teach others, you need to engage with their feelings and support them to stand on their own two feet for the first time." — Suo Hayato on the most Confucian thing he could say at the moment

How self-centered:

顏淵問仁。子曰：「克己復禮為仁。一日克己復禮，天下歸仁焉。為仁由己，而由人乎哉？」 [1] 顏淵曰：「請問其目。」子曰：「非禮勿視，非禮勿聽，非禮勿言，非禮勿動。」 [2] 顏淵曰：「回雖不敏，請事斯語矣。」（《顏淵》第十二）

(HIGHLIGHTED = TRANSLATED BELOW; EDITED MTL)

[1] "Rén is to restrain one's selfish desires and to conduct oneself in an honorable manner. Once you have done this, all the people of the world will submit to your benevolence and virtue. The fulfillment of rén depends entirely on oneself. How could it depend on others?"

[2] "How do you practice rén?" "Do not look; listen; speak; or do things not in accordance with lǐ."

Already, gymnast-guy has violated the above.

To teach others [...]:

"與人交,推其長者,讳其短者,故能久也。"

"When interacting with people, you should pay attention to discovering and promoting others' strengths, rather than always pointing out other people's shortcomings." [MTL]

Confucius was known to be a very open and benevolent teacher. He did not require students to pay fees; he simply wanted your desire to learn. Suo's really open with teaching Nirei and he matches the teaching style of Johnny Hung really well <3 He's very positive and uplifting when it comes to Nirei. Personally, I also like to believe Suo also sees a younger or past version of himself in Nirei which adds more layers to his intrigue...

Scroll back up to the part where I had three Instagram stories explaining how 仁義禮智 linked with Mencius' additions if you forgot about it. You can re-read what I said regarding the example of seeing an old man killing someone.

Then the gymnast guy talks about 'discipline', and Suo has a vision of his master, which he adds with: "'Discipline', 'training and passing down your teachings'... Okay! I've got a question, sensei! How are you supposed to act when you go barging into another person's home?"

(He's pissed.)

Rewording [2] from my Instagram Story Explanation: Because you have 惻隱之心 (cèyǐn), you feel pitiful for Furin getting invaded and fighters/friends getting hurt. Because you have 是非之心 (shìfēi), you can judge and realize why the Noroshi invading Furin is wrong. Because you have 羞惡之心 (xiūwù), you feel angry that Noroshi is invading Furin.

And once again, just like from KEEL: 羞惡之心 (xiūwù) is feeling disgusted/hateful when you see others do something not in accordance with 禮儀 (lǐyì).

For someone older to be breaking 禮儀 (lǐyì) and speaking on how Suo's 'similar to him' and how he's having 'fun', this was The singularly most awful thing gymnast-guy could've done at the moment as someone Suo is meant to respect according to the age/skill hierarchy in Chinese culture. Not to mention the gymnast guy establishes himself indirectly as a 'teacher' in this scenario by using the phrase 'discipline'. It's even crazier when you realize that Confucianism explicitly believes that anyone can be a teacher to you because you do not know everything. There's literally a story about Confucius speaking with a 7-year-old who spoke so much facts that Confucius himself recognized the kid as a teacher. Suo taunting the guy asking what he could learn from the gymnast is NUTS.

Some other quotes that I think really match Suo's character:

子曰：「君子病無能焉，不病人之不己知也。」（《衞靈公》第十五）

“A jūnzǐ (君子) worries that he himself is incapable, and not that others do not understand him.”

子曰：「君子不重則不威；學則不固。主忠信。無友不如己者。過則勿憚改。」（《學而》第一）

"If a jūnzǐ (君子) is not steadfast/solemn/decisive, he will not be dignified; and what he learns will not be stable. Maintain loyalty and integrity as your main principles. Do not make friends with people who have lower moral standing than you/who are not as good as you are, and do not be afraid to correct your mistakes."

Final Theory Pitch: "Death By Betrayal"

"Death By Betrayal" in Suo Hayato's name based on the symbolism of the Chinese redbud might make one immediately think of his master and his family. Perhaps Suo's teacher passed and Suo's embodying his master's teachings, or his family has backstabbed/been backstabbed. If we go down the route of Suo still being an active triad member, then this may talk about his triad being betrayed and Suo having to briefly live/train with his master under a new identity. If Suo's former martial siblings (whom he respects, by the way, literally so xiào) want to reform the group, Suo might force them to align with his current set of values (which are extremely similar to Furin too—to protect the common people) and avoid harming innocents.

From another point of view this can also symbolize the "death" of Suo Hayato's former character, where instead he was the one who turned his backs on his clan/family first. Either to learn from his master who may or may not be dead, or to escape his supposed triad ties.

There is another piece of classical literature that I can yap about: 《魚我所欲也》. Here's a quickest translation of it possible:

“魚，我所欲也，熊掌，亦我所欲也;二者不可得兼，舍魚而取熊掌者也。生亦我所欲也，義亦我所欲也;二者不可得兼，舍生而取義者也。

"Fish, I desire it; bear paw [rare and believed to have medicinal properties], I also desire it. If I cannot obtain both at once, then I will sacrifice the fish for the bear paw. Life, I desire it; yì [to do morally correct/upstanding/good things], I also desire it; if I cannot obtain two at once, then I will sacrifice my life for yì.

生亦我所欲，所欲有甚於生者，故不為苟得也; 死亦我所惡，所惡有甚於死者，故患有所不辟也。如使人之所欲莫甚於生，則凡可以得生者，何不用也 ? 使人之所惡莫甚於死者，則凡可以辟患者，何不為也 ?由是則生而有不用也，由是則可以辟患而有不為也，是故所欲有甚於生者，所惡有甚於死者。非獨賢者有是心也，人皆有之，賢者能勿喪耳。

Life is something that I want, but there is something I want more than life [yì]! so I will not be greedy for immediate survival. Death is something I hate, but there is something I hate more than death [not fulfilling yì], so I will not avoid the evil that comes my way. If there is nothing that men love more than life, why do they not use whatever means they have to live? If there is nothing that men hate more than death, why do they not use any means of avoiding evil? By these means may we live, but some do not use them; and by these means may we avoid evil, but some are unwilling to do so.

Thus (it can be proved) that there are things that people want more than life, and there are things that people hate more than death. It is not only the 賢者 (virtuous man) that has this nature—all men have this innate nature, but the virtuous man can preserve and maintain it.

一簞食，一豆羹，得之則生，弗得則死。

A serving of food, a bowl of soup; if you obtain it, you will live. If you do not obtain it, you will die.

嘑爾而與之，行道之人弗受;蹴爾而與之，乞人不屑也;萬鍾則不辯禮義而受之。

Giving this to someone while mocking and hollering at them, normal people (people on the road) will not accept it because they feel disrespected; stepping on it before giving it to someone, a beggar would not accept it because it is unclean. The temptation (t/n: 萬鐘 is similar to 'bad temptations' or 'great benefits') for benefits: one will not differentiate whether or not it is aligned according to yì [etiquette/moral ethics] before obtaining it.

萬鍾於我何加焉?為宮室之美、妻妾之奉、所識窮乏者得我與?鄉為身死而不受，今為宮室之美為之;鄉為身死而不受，今為妻妾之奉為之;鄉為身死而不受，今為所識窮乏者得我而為之，是亦不可以已乎?此之謂失其本心。"

What do these benefits have that can help me? For a beautiful house, many wives, and for the recognition and thanks from poor people? In the past, one would sacrifice their life before accepting these benefits; but now, for a beautiful house, many wives, and the recognition and thanks from poor people, they will accept temptation. Can we not stop this? This is the act of losing one’s trait [of sacrificing your life for the greater good]."

A summary of this thinking would be to "捨生取義", lit. 'sacrifice your life to obtain yì/the greater good'.

It is completely possible that Suo, when raised or sworn into the triad, was taught by his master (either in secret or after he briefly leaves) about the importance of 'upholding the ultimate good', which may have caused him to realize his triad—which may or may not prey on the weak—does not align with his moral worldviews any more.

To escape, Suo could've decided to fake his death or leave behind his old self and turn his back as betrayal, which ties into his 'noble' symbolism and 'flying falcon' name in Hayato.

But tbh, I'm inclined to believe Suo's master was on okay terms with the triad because he/she had long hair. Suo's hair, as I've stated elsewhere, could be short due to hair being used as a major symbolism device in WBK as a way to say he's tried to leave his past.

Yet some things may be unable to be broken away from so easily, and Suo, a trained falcon, might be unable to leave behind everything. He was likely loyal since a young age and unconsciously finds himself lingering on old sentiments. Maybe his earrings are gifts from his master. Maybe his eyepatch is from his triad/family.

Still, Suo being from a criminal family and having distaste for Noroshi/KEEL is really interesting because we can see that he doesn't enjoy it when people lack empathy or cause pain to others. You’d expect him to react more to Choji’s gang because of their “violence for violence’s sake” going against his whole empathy tangent, but Suo seems to hate it more when someone finds interest in violence for meaning’s sake or violence for profit’s sake. I think Suo understands Shishitoren is built off violence to become stronger (<- literally the WBK OST), and everyone in SSTR seems to mutually be okay with this in-fighting. There's also a big difference between Suo clashing with SSTR and the other: he hasn't forged as deep of a bond with Furin compared to vs. KEEL and vs. Noroshi, and the latter two have made active attempts at hurting Furin through morally corrupt means (beating Nagato up and taking over Furin for personal gain).

Suo could've developed this sort of morality to distance himself from his family, who may have gotten infamous/profited off similar methods. (<- and this is really funny because Confucius has ALSO said that a jūnzǐ (君子) should not accept wealth or escape poverty if it wasn't achieved through morally correct means. A jūnzǐ (君子) cannot turn his back on rén in the span of a meal, and this remains true even during hasty and urgent times + when one is poor/wandering/living in tough conditions.)

A possible timeline:

-Suo is born to a rich family, possibly wealthy through a criminal empire.

-Suo dislikes his family because of his morals (may not have happened), and his family may dislike him back because he is considered “weak” (could explain why he’s the one who offers to help Nirei or why empathy as an adult is so important to him). Or, he's a super loyal lapdog and hella admires his brothers. Maybe they're the only good guys in the triad. Maybe they're really bad and Suo's also really bad. Suo might have two wolves inside him... the Confucian morals vs. Organized crime persona

-Suo studies Chinese fighting techniques and philosophy with someone (possibly a figure outside his family)

-Suo's family and/or mentor is betrayed/Suo betrays them

-Suo has to escape and create a new identity fully based off of his Confucian learnings.

...

And with that, I've said almost everything I need to say on the topic of Suo Hayato.

It totally didn't take 10,000 words or anything.

What's up next in Part 2?

I'll be writing Endo's version of this post and include some Suo-Endo joint theories and/or notes. Things to look forward to include Endo, Christianity, and alchemy... And maybe I'll even start yapping about the 0.2472983% potential Daoist/Taoist influence Sakura has.

I'll be back in 1 business century!

(Bonus) out of context convos and quotes my friend and I have said during the process of writing this that may foreshadow Part 2 or something:

Me: Picture Endo being Chinese too but it's Mainlander vs HK [Suo] beef

Me: WHO'S THE TAIWANESE 😭😭😭 IS IT UME??? HE HAS PLUM BLOSSOMS

Nakama: Okay so (crackposting) it's choji because of TW's association with the sun

Me: What if it's Chiitan [Chika Takiishi] and we get the Mainland x TWnese "forbidden" romance...

Me: But anyway I find it devastating choji would say cao ni ma wo che ne and its not even ooc

Me: ...Shit now I can imagine endo with a strong beijinger accent

Nakama: ...yamato儿(er) endo儿(er)

Nakama: ....chiika儿(er) takiishi儿(er)

Nakama: ...sakuraur harukaur

Me: endo going BEJINGRR WELCOMES YOU

"You not only ate, you devourered that like you were unaccountably peckish." —Nakama-kun 2024

Nakama: Waiting very politely for ur suopost to show up

Me: It might tonight, I'm typing like a keyboard warrior rn

Me: When u wake up it might be posted 😎

—A lie quoted from the 17th Aug 2024 at 3：57 PM GMT+8, a whopping one month and seven days ago.

"Y'know maybe suo's from oklahoma" —Me, delirious, 2024

The Suo Post's TLDR:

"WE NEED TO KILL HIM FOR BEING TOO CHINESE"

—User psychicwavementality after 1 month of crying in voice messages about Suo Hayato.

(Total word count: 11,781 words. Part One, scene!)

#wbk #wind breaker #wind breaker theory #suo hayato #more suo chinkposting #endo yamato #sakura haruka #THE suo chinkpost #we staying in 青山醫院 with this one 🔥🔥🗣️#feel free to quote and/or refer to this post in any future theories you make with credit!#part 2 coming near you in cinemas on ??/??#PLEASEEE reblog or add your afterthoughts/extra ideas if you enjoyed it #i poured blood sweat and DSE chinese notes into this #i also shat tears but that's irrelevant

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ssa-dado · 2 days

Text

7 - Cogito, ergo Sum

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, sad just sad stuff, angst

Summary: On a train to Riverhead, you confront buried memories of your father’s death and the complex emotions stirred by Peter’s welcome back party, where Hotch’s past with Haley left you feeling like an outsider. Hotch, haunted by memories of his abusive father and first love with Haley, grapples with his choices and regrets. Meanwhile, Hotch and Peter clash over your safety and personal boundaries on the job, discovering the next target of a series of poisonings. Warnings: Grief, domestic violence, emotional abuse, anxiety, CM case. This is quite sad

Word Count: 4.5k

Dado's Corner: Not me sobbing like a kid while writing this haha. Poor Aaron you deserve a hug. That said, I experimented a bit with the style of this chapter - it's quite cinematic. I drew inspiration from Suits' 2×08 where Harvey goes to visit his father's grave and the narrative interlaces flashbacks, present and the characters' point of view so beautifully. Also - this has a sister chapter coming up next so don't worry.

previous chapter ; masterlist

The train rattled gently as it made its way toward your hometown, Riverhead, each passing mile pulling you deeper into a past you had long avoided. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the tracks was a steady, relentless metronome, marking each second that brought you closer to face your father’s grave.

You glanced up to see a little girl holding her father’s hand, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around his as they made their way to a seat just past yours. The sight was simple, ordinary - something that happened every day - but today, it felt like a punch to the chest.

Watching them, you felt the train become a catalyst for everything you’d been trying to bury; the pain surged, raw and unfiltered, hitting you all at once. The easy affection between them, was a reminder of what you could never have again. Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes, threatening to spill as you stared at the floor, trying to swallow the ache of everything you’d lost. In that fleeting moment, the emptiness of your own hands felt unbearable, as if the absence of your father’s presence echoed a thousand times harder in the quiet hum of the train.

You stared out of the window, but the passing trees and fading buildings blurred into the background, their muted colors mingling with the fog of your thoughts. You’d taken the rare step of taking a day off to make this journey, a day that was supposed to be about finding some semblance of closure, or at least confronting the loss you’d tucked away behind your work.

But you hadn’t been able to think only of your father. Your mind kept drifting back to Peter’s welcome back party the previous week. Where you sat at the table, Gideon’s words lingering in the air, the concept of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis feeling painfully apt in that moment.

“Everyone, this is Haley,” Hotch said, his voice carefully controlled. “We… we go way back.”

Only now you could clearly see at how Haley smiled, but her eyes were constantly on Hotch, her presence radiating a sense of ease that only came from years of knowing someone deeply. “It’s been a long time, Aaron,” she said, her tone gentle but layered with unspoken memories. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You watched the interaction with a heavy heart, feeling like an outsider in your own team. The connection between them was undeniable, and for a moment, you felt a pang of jealousy, a sharp twist in your chest that you hadn’t prepared for.

You had just started to let your guard down with Hotch, to allow yourself to see him not just as your stoic coworker who would crack a joke every once in a while - but as someone you could trust, someone who understood you. And now, here was a piece of his past that you hadn’t been privy to, thrown in your face without warning.

As the evening wore on, you tried to engage, to laugh at Rossi’s jokes and nod along with Gideon’s stories, but your mind kept drifting back to Hotch and Haley. You couldn’t help but feel the sting of not knowing this part of him, of realizing that no matter how close you’d gotten, there were still walls between you.

At one point, Hotch caught your eye from across the table. His expression softened, a silent question in his gaze, as if he could sense your discomfort. But before he could say anything, Haley leaned in, pulling his attention back to her, and the moment passed.

Gideon, ever observant, leaned closer to you, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over you.

“You know, Y/N,” he said thoughtfully, tapping the cover of the book you’d bought for Hotch, “Hegel’s all about finding balance. Sometimes, the only way forward is to let go of what you thought you knew and embrace the contradictions.”

You nodded, but the words felt too close to home. You weren’t sure how to find balance in this moment, how to reconcile the sudden wave of emotions crashing over you. All you could do was hold on and hope that, somehow, things would make sense again.

Now your mind was buzzing with a mix of emotions: shock, confusion, and a sinking feeling of being completely blindsided. It was in the way Hotch and Haley exchanged glances, the comfortable proximity, the shared history etched in every small gesture. It hurt more than you’d ever thought it would, making everything sounded distant, muffled, like you were underwater.

The gathering had been a lively affair, full of laughter and shared stories, but a specific moment kept replaying in your mind: Haley’s warm smile as she said goodbye to Hotch, “It was really good to see you, Aaron, I’m glad you’re doing well. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.”

Hotch nodded, his expression warm yet tinged with a hint of sadness. “Yeah, Haley. Take care of yourself. See you around.”

With that, she gave a small wave to the table and headed back to her group of friends, leaving Hotch standing there, momentarily lost in the past. As he returned to his seat, you could see the way he was grappling with the emotions stirred up by the unexpected reunion. He caught your gaze briefly, offering a small, almost apologetic smile that only deepened your sense of uncertainty.

As she walked away, Rossi had thrown a smirk Hotch’s way, raising an eyebrow as he quipped, “So, old flames burning bright again?”

Hotch rolled his eyes, though there was a faint, embarrassed flush to his cheeks. “Rossi, don’t start,” he warned, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Oh, come on, Aaron,” Rossi continued, clearly enjoying himself. “Haley’s quite a catch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little lovestruck.”

Hotch sighed, but there was a softness to his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. “It’s not like that, Dave. We… had our time. It just didn’t work out. She wanted a family, a stable life. I was too caught up in my career, trying to make it into the Bureau. We were just… heading in different directions.”

There was a pause as the table absorbed his words, the rare glimpse into Hotch’s personal life catching everyone a little off guard. You could see the flicker of understanding in his eyes, the acknowledgment of choices made and paths taken, and it resonated deeply with you. It wasn’t just about Haley; it was about the sacrifices, the regrets, and the constant pull between duty and desire.

You had stood on the sidelines, listening, and telling yourself it wasn’t jealousy you felt, but something else entirely. Hotch and Haley’s history was full of things you couldn’t touch, memories you couldn’t rewrite.

The ease between them that felt unreachable, at least for you. It highlighted your own struggles, the way you and Hotch danced around each other’s guarded edges, each too closed off and too stubborn for way too much to admit the walls you’d built were anything but necessary. You had worked hard to break through those barriers, inching closer to something that resembled real friendship with Hotch, but seeing him with Haley made it clear how far you still had to go.

One of your coworkers, ever the instigator, smirked and raised their glass, turning the conversation light again. “Ah, first loves. We’ve all been there, right? High school sweethearts, college crushes, and then… life happens.”

They nudged Peter playfully, their grin widening. “I bet you’ve got some stories, too. You and Y/N? Seems like you two have your own history.”

The comment, though playful, struck a chord. You could feel all eyes momentarily on you and Peter, the unspoken insinuations hanging in the air. Peter chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a casual ease that belied the tension simmering beneath the surface. “Oh, come on, let’s not dig up the past. Y/N and I? We were just kids. We studied, we got into trouble, and then we grew up.”

Rossi, always enjoying a chance to stir the pot, raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? ‘Just kids,’ huh? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Seems like more than just studying to me.”

Peter shot you a sideways glance, his smile both teasing and sincere. “Well, you know me, Dave. Always mixing business with pleasure.”

You forced a laugh, though it sounded hollow even to your ears. “Please, don’t encourage him. Peter was more like the annoying older brother I never asked for.”

The table erupted in laughter, and for a moment, the awkwardness eased. But underneath it all, there was a thread of unspoken tension, a reminder that you and Peter’s relationship, much like Hotch and Haley’s, was layered with complexities that no amount of jokes could untangle.

Hotch watched the exchange quietly, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it understanding? Regret? You couldn’t quite tell, but it was clear he was processing his own thoughts amidst the lighthearted teasing. The parallels between his past and what was unfolding now weren’t lost on him.

Then memories shifted, drawing you deeper into the party’s ambiance: the clinking of glasses, the chatter of old friends reuniting, and Peter’s infectious laugh as he moved through the crowd.

You remembered the moment he found you in the corner of the room, handing you a glass of wine with a casual, “So, are you ever going to let me take you out on that date?”

You had laughed it off, deflecting with a joke. “You’d have to catch me when I’m not buried in case files.”

Peter’s smile had softened, and he leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching yours in that disarming way he had. “I’m patient. You know that.”

There it was, an offer that seemed perfect on paper. Peter was kind, funny, and someone you could talk to for hours without feeling the need to perform or pretend. He had always been a constant, someone who understood your messy family dynamics and never judged you for them. Yet, for reasons you couldn’t quite name, you had hesitated.

It wasn’t just fear that a relationship might ruin your friendship, though that was part of it. No, this hesitation was something deeper, something that had started to shift within you over the months you’d been at the BAU.

The job had changed you, had made you see the world differently, and maybe that change had rippled into the way you saw Peter, too. He was familiar, a comfort you could rely on, but when he looked at you with that earnestness, you felt a strange dissonance, like you were two notes that no longer harmonized as they once did.

You shook off the thought and turned back to the scenery, trying to refocus. The landscape outside shifted, becoming a blur of rolling hills and scattered houses, but all you could see were memories of the afternoons you’d spent with Peter.

He was a piece of your past that felt safe, steady, and uncomplicated. You remembered the day he’d chosen your mother as his thesis supervisor, the excitement in his eyes as he explained why.

“She’s brilliant,” he had told you, sitting at your kitchen table, his hands animated as he spoke. “I mean, I’ve read everything she’s published. Working with her is like… I don’t know, getting to play with a master.”

Your mother had smirked from the kitchen, where she was brewing tea. “I’m not sure if ‘play’ is the word I’d use,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But I’m glad you’re eager. I could use someone with your enthusiasm.”

Those afternoons felt like moments frozen in time, filled with academic debates that stretched into the evening. You would sit with Peter, surrounded by books and papers, discussing everything from human behavior to obscure psychological theories. Your mother would occasionally join in, her sharp insights cutting through Peter’s eager optimism, and you would feel an odd sense of belonging, of being seen and understood in a way that was rare. You and Peter fit so easily then, like two pieces of a puzzle that made sense together.

So why now, when Peter had finally asked, did you feel that familiar comfort turn into something that almost felt suffocating? It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was something more complex, more tangled.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but whatever it was, it had kept you from saying yes. Part of you wondered if it had to do with the person you’d become at the BAU, the person who had learned to live in the shadows, to thrive on the unspoken and the unsolved. There was a distance between the you that Peter knew and the you that existed now, and you weren’t sure how to bridge that gap.

As the train chugged closer to Riverhead, you let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of your own thoughts settle in your chest. This trip was supposed to be about your father, about facing the memories you’d buried along with him. But as the scenery continued to blur outside your window, you realized it wasn’t just him you were here to confront. It was yourself, and all the tangled, unresolved things you’d left behind.

Back in his apartment, Hotch stood motionless in front of his closet, the faint hum of the city outside barely reaching his ears. It was supposed to be a simple, mindless task: changing out of his work clothes, slipping into something comfortable to signal the end of another long case. But that morning, the weight of the past lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, refusing to be ignored. Seeing Haley again had shaken something loose inside him, memories that he had tried to bury beneath layers of duty, responsibility, and the unyielding armor of his carefully crafted stoicism.

He stared at the closet door as if it were a portal to another time, a past version of himself that he had spent years trying to forget. His hand hovered over a hanger, hesitating before he finally pulled the door open. He reached for a pair of sweatpants, the movement automatic, but his fingers brushed against something unexpected, something soft and familiar. He pulled it out, holding it up to the dim light of the room. It was an old pirate hat, worn and faded, buried at the back of the closet like a forgotten relic.

The sight of it was enough to send a rush of emotion coursing through him, his heart tightening with the weight of memories long left untouched. It was a small, silly thing - a costume piece from a high school play - but it held the echoes of a time when life had felt simpler, when love had been a lifeline rather than a distant, unattainable dream.

Hotch turned the hat over in his hands, his thumb tracing the worn edges. It felt lighter than he remembered, the fabric frayed but still holding the shape that had once made him feel like someone else - someone braver, someone who didn’t wake up every day terrified of what the morning might bring.

Holding it now, he was transported back to those days in high school, when he had first met Haley during their school’s production of The Pirates of Penzance. He could still remember the nerves that twisted his stomach into knots as he stepped onto the stage, feeling every bit the awkward, shy boy who never quite knew how to fit in.

His father’s presence loomed over every aspect of his life, a dark, volatile force that made every day feel like a minefield. Mornings were the worst; he’d wake up before dawn, his heart pounding with the dread that his father would already be up, the stale stench of whiskey on his breath and anger simmering just below the surface.

Every morning, Hotch would lie still in his bed, his ears straining to hear the slightest sound - a creaking floorboard, the clink of a bottle, the unmistakable thud of something heavy being thrown against the wall. He’d close his eyes tightly, his breath catching in his throat as he braced himself for the inevitable: the harsh sound of his father’s voice, slurred and laced with venom, cutting through the stillness of the house like a knife.

“You worthless piece of shit,” his father would sneer, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched. The insults were always the same, a relentless barrage of contempt that felt like punches to the gut. And sometimes, they were. The bruises left behind were easy to hide, but the fear lingered, seeping into every corner of his mind.

But then there was Haley.

Haley, with her bright smile and infectious laugh, had entered his life like a beam of light piercing through the darkness. She was everything his world was not: warm, kind, and unafraid to be herself. He could still see her as she had been that first day, standing backstage with an easy confidence that seemed to light up the entire room. He had been fumbling through his lines, tripping over words as he tried to keep his hands from shaking, feeling the familiar grip of anxiety clawing at his throat. But then she had turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Not bad, Hotchner,” she teased, her voice light and teasing, breaking through the wall of his self-doubt.

She nudged him playfully with her shoulder, her touch gentle but grounding. “But if you’re going to be a pirate, you’ve got to look the part.” She reached up and tilted the hat on his head, adjusting it with a flourish. “There. Much better.”

He had laughed then, a rare, unguarded sound that felt almost foreign to his own ears. It was a laugh born of something deeper than humor - it was relief, joy, and a sense of being seen in a way he never had been before. That moment had been the start of everything: the stolen glances, the whispered secrets shared between classes, the way she’d lean in close, her eyes bright with something that made the whole world seem less terrifying.

Haley became his first thought in the morning, replacing the dread that had once greeted him when he opened his eyes. Instead of the anxiety that his father would be there, ready to strike, his mind was filled with thoughts of her: the way she smiled, the sound of her voice, the softness of her lips whenever they kissed, the easy way she’d tease him about his nervousness on stage. She was his anchor, the one person who made him feel like he wasn’t drowning in his own fears.

Every morning, instead of waking up with his heart racing at the thought of his father’s rage, he’d wake up thinking of Haley. He’d think of their rehearsals, of the way she’d roll her eyes when he messed up a line but would always follow it with a grin that told him she was proud of him anyway. She had made him feel safe, like maybe, there was more to life than the fear that had defined his every waking moment.

Hotch hadn’t just fallen in love with Haley; he had clung to her like a lifeline. She was the first person who had shown him what it felt like to be cared for, to be valued for who he was, not for what he could endure. She was his sanctuary from the storm that raged inside his home, and for a while, she had made him believe that he could have something good, something real.

But as he stood there now, holding the hat, those memories were tinged with the bittersweet realization of what he had lost. The love that had once saved him had crumbled under the relentless weight of his ambition and the demands of his career.

He had chosen the Bureau, chosen to bury himself in the pursuit of justice, thinking that if he worked hard enough, if he dedicated himself to the job, he could finally be free of the shadows that haunted him.

But in the process, he had lost Haley. He had lost the last piece of innocence that had made him believe he could balance it all: love, career, and a future untangled from the pain of his past. Now, the hat felt like a symbol of everything he had tried to bury, a reminder of the boy he used to be and the love that had once made him feel whole.

Hotch closed his eyes, a wave of grief and regret washing over him as he placed the hat gently back in the closet. The memories of Haley, of the warmth she had brought into his life, were still there, but they were shrouded in the painful truth that he had let her slip away. He had spent so long running from the fear of his father, trying to replace it with something brighter, but in the end, he had pushed away the very thing that had saved him

The shrill ring of his phone cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present. “Hotchner,” he said, masking the turmoil beneath his usual calm.

Gideon’s voice came through the line, urgent and clipped. “We’ve got a situation. A series of poisonings in Long Island, targeting public spaces. Libraries, parks, shopping centers. It’s escalating, and the unsub’s leaving messages. We need you here, now.”

Hotch glanced back at the pirate hat before slamming the closet shut. “I’ll be there in twenty,” he replied, shoving the memories aside as he grabbed his coat and headed out the door. There was no time to dwell on the past; the present demanded his full attention.

At the BAU, the team gathered around the conference table as Gideon outlined the details of the case. The poisonings were strategic, each attack aimed at places where people gathered, spreading panic through the community. The unsub’s taunts came in the form of cryptic messages, each one hinting at the next target.

Hotch’s jaw tightened as he scanned the crime scene photos, feeling the familiar pull of duty override everything else.

“We’re splitting up,” Gideon said, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Hotch, you and Peter will head to the latest crime scene. Rossi and I will cover the first.”

Hotch nodded, his face impassive as he gathered his things. He was already mentally mapping out the approach, compartmentalizing the emotional weight of the morning. But as they drove, Peter, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, tried to break the tension.

“You know, about that bet I won,” Peter began, glancing over at Hotch with a hint of a smile. “The date… with her. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it special.”

Hotch’s eyes stayed fixed on the road, his expression tightening at Peter’s words. The mention of you - the team member who had started to break through the cracks in his own carefully guarded exterior - sent a surge of conflicting emotions through him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“Have you really thought this through?” Hotch asked, his voice low, almost a growl. “You and her, both in the field, both seeing the worst of what people are capable of… it’s not as easy as you think.”

Peter shrugged, trying to maintain his casual demeanor, but there was a defensive edge creeping in. “We’ve always been good at separating things. She gets it - she’s smart, one of the smartest people I know. We can handle it.”

Hotch’s frustration boiled over, his tone sharpening. “It’s not about being smart, Peter. This job… it changes you. It gets into your head, your heart. And you’re fooling yourself if you think it won’t affect you both. What happens when you’re forced to make a choice - her safety or the job? How do you keep that from clouding your judgment?”

Peter’s smile faltered, and his eyes flicked toward Hotch, the beginnings of anger flashing across his face. “You don’t think I know that? You think I haven’t thought about it every damn day since I realized I wanted more with her? At least I’m honest about where I stand. I’m not hiding behind this job like it’s the only thing that matters.”

The tension between them was palpable, the car’s interior charged with unspoken words and unresolved conflicts. Hotch’s gaze remained fixed on the road, but his mind was racing. Peter’s words hit closer to home than he cared to admit, scraping against wounds that had never fully healed. Peter’s willingness to embrace his feelings, to take the leap Hotch had always hesitated to make, stung in a way that was hard to articulate.

“You don’t get it, Peter,” Hotch said finally, his voice quieter, more resigned. “You have no idea what it’s like to live with the consequences of those choices. I’ve seen what it does to people, how it tears them apart. This job… it doesn’t let you have a normal life, no matter how hard you try.”

Peter stared at him, searching for something in Hotch’s expression that he couldn’t quite find. “Maybe not. But I’d rather take the risk than spend my life wondering what could have been.”

They lapsed into silence, the argument left hanging between them, unresolved. Hotch felt the weight of Peter’s words settle heavily on his shoulders, mingling with the guilt and regret that had been simmering beneath the surface since seeing Haley again.

He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know if he even had the right to. Peter’s defiance, his willingness to fight for what he wanted, was a painful reminder of the choices Hotch had made and the things he had lost in the process.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Hotch pushed all of it down, shoving the emotions into that familiar place he rarely let himself go. The crime scene was chaotic, with officers milling about, evidence markers scattered across the library floor.

Hotch’s keen eyes scanned the room, piecing together the unsub’s method, the subtle clues left behind. But something caught his attention: a bulletin board crowded with flyers and notes, too chaotic at first glance, but hiding something.

He moved closer, pulling back layers of paper until he found it: a cryptic message, written in neat, deliberate script. As he read the words, his blood ran cold, the implications settling like lead in his stomach.

The riddle painted a clear picture of the next target. Hotch’s hands trembled slightly as he stepped back, the reality sinking in.

Riverhead.

The place you were right now.

Without a word, Hotch turned and sprinted out of the building, his heart pounding with a fear that went far beyond the professional. This wasn’t just another case. It was personal, and every second mattered.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x reader

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peakyswritings · 1 day

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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

PART XI

Summary: the situation complicates further as Tommy’s stay in Sicily nears its end. It’s time for conversations, and things that have been buried for too long are brought to the light.

Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, references to past attempted assault, harassment, violence, angst, English is not my first language. This chapter is 18+, smut (I’m still not used to writing it but here we go). This is set between season 1 and 2.

Like in some previous chapters, some conversations are supposed to be in Italian but for obvious reasons I kept them in English.

A/N: sorry this is really long. I hope it makes up for the wait!

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dividers credits

Tommy’s proposal to Agnese had brought quite the hustle in the Ferrante’s property. A stream of relatives and friends had been coming to congratulate the new couple in the past few days, and people continuously came and went to make the arrangements for the wedding - or simply pry in the family business. And with the engagement party being held that night, it was impossible for Nina to step out of the house without bumping into some caterer or seamstress or, if she was particularly unlucky, some cantankerous old aunt who would stray away from her as if she were the Devil incarnated.

Her mood, which was already dark to begin with, had considerably worsened, forcing her to withdraw into isolation to avoid all possible conflict. She was easily irritated, she couldn’t stand her mother’s complaints, her father’s deceitfulness, her brothers’ haughtiness, and she couldn’t help herself from talking back or snapping when something bothered her. She could tell they were fed up with her insolence, that she was treading on thin ice, but she drew a twisted satisfaction from getting on their nerves. It was the only way she had to get back at them for the hell they were putting her through. Her role in the family, the impossibility of being something more than she was expected to be, the threat of a forced marriage with Stefano that was becoming less of a prospect and more of a certainty with each day that passed. And now that. Having to watch as the marriage between Tommy and Agnese took form, pretending with her cousin she was genuinely happy for her.

It was tearing her apart from the inside. At this point, Nina couldn’t wait for them to get married, so that Tommy would leave her house, her country, and set her free from the deep ache she felt every time he was near. It would be difficult, at first, but in time she’d forget about him, about the way he made her heart race, about how safe she felt in his arms.

“I’m going over to aunt Rita,” her mother hastily walked into the kitchen, holding a sewing box in her hands. “I’m helping her embroider the bedsheets for the trousseau.”

“Mhm.” Nina merely raised her eyes from the book she was pretending to read. Hearing about bedsheets and trousseaus was the last thing she needed in that moment, especially if it had to become yet another excuse to reproach her for not having the intention to get married anytime soon.

All of a sudden the book was soon snatched from her hands. When she raised her gaze, her mother was looking at her with a stern look on her face.

“Your friend has been invited to the party,” she said bitterly, as though the matter was somehow her daughter’s fault.

Nina’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. It didn’t take a genius to understand who said friend was.

“The whole Spinietta family has been invited,” Maria went on, slamming the book on the table.

She swallowed harshly, the implications of that gesture rapidly sinking in. “Are you serious?”

“I warned you,” her mother pointed a finger at her. “If you had listened to me, maybe it would’ve been Angelo, not him.”

Nina rolled her eyes. Again with her friend’s son. What did she want, to put a death sentence on the poor man? She grabbed the cup of tea that had grown cold in front of her, and got up to pour its content in the sink.

“Did I tell you he’s a teacher?” Maria started again. “I bet he acts all intellectual just like you.”

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll intellectualise away from me. Unless he wants to get on the Spiniettas’ bad side, that is. Or dad’s.” She started to aggressively scrub the cup, taking out her anger on the fragile item. “And who says he’d be interested in me anyway?”

Her mother looked at her as if a second nose had grown on her face. Despite her unusual behaviour, Nina carried herself well, looked nice, had an education that most girls could only dream of. Her Italian was outstandingly clean, almost devoid of dialectal influences, and clear. Her brain worked incessantly, she had complex thoughts, and it was often difficult to keep up with her. Not to mention how she managed to give even men twice her age a hard time with the sole power of her words.

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’d find me ugly,” Nina shrugged, “or stupid.”

“You’re my daughter, you can’t be ugly or stupid.”

Nina let out a sigh, drying her hands on a towel. There was no point in arguing. In those situations, it was better to let her mum vent until she got tired of talking with a stone wall and gave up.

Maria dropped the sewing box on the table with a thud. Once she had her daughter’s attention back in her, she started speaking again, a grave expression on her face. “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in. If your father says yes to Stefano, then he won’t be able to say no anymore,” she said lowly. “You need to act before he says yes.”

“He can’t force me.”

If her father really decided to go through with it, she’d drop the bomb on him that she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Maybe she could do it in front of Stefano, for the pleasure of watching his smug grin disappear from his face. Would she be irremediably deemed as a whore? Yes. Would she bring shame upon her whole family? Absolutely. It would still be better than being Spinietta’s wife.

“You can’t change my mind on this, mum,” she concluded in a tone that didn’t leave any room for discussion.

Her didn’t mother didn’t reply, but the disapproval was clear on her face.

“You know what?” Maria picked up the box from the table again and put it under her arm with a nervous gesture. “I don’t care. Do what you want,” she said sharply, leaving the kitchen.

As soon as she heard the front door closing, Nina exhaled deeply. That was another issue she’d have to deal with, apparently. She wasn’t sure her mother would give up so easily, and she was scared she’d try to act behind her back like her father was.

Her father. Her blood boiled in her veins as her mind went back to the reason why the argument she had just gotten out of had started in the first place. It was time to talk to him, to make it clear that she would never accept to marry that bastard, that she didn’t need time to decide cause she had already made up her mind. The sooner they had that conversation, the sooner all that would end. Hopefully.

Animated by a fiery resolution, Nina strode through the house with large, quick steps. She didn’t pay attention to her brothers, who were heading to the kitchen to have breakfast, nor to Tommy, who was waiting in the large hallway for her father to let him in, and was now looking at her with a puzzled look on his face.

She stormed in her father office, slamming the door behind her. He raised his head from the papers he was signing, looking at her questioningly, but not without a hint of reproach for bursting into his private room without even knocking.

“What does this mean?” Her voice came out more high-pitched than she intended. She stopped in front of the dark wooden desk, forcing him to pay attention to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Her father leaned back in his chair, rolling his cigar between his fingers, keeping his oblivious facade. A new wave of rage ran through Nina, but she was careful to contain it. “You invited the Spinietta family to the engagement party,” she explained through gritted teeth.

Unimpressed by her accusations, he stubbed out his cigar, then folded is hands on his lap. “The Spiniettas are close friends of ours,” he said calmly.

“Right,” she let out a humourless laugh. “You became pretty close over the last month.”

“Business is growing.”

“Ah,” she nodded, raising her eyebrows. “Business.”

Her father clenched his jaw, and from the way his shoulders had stiffened she could tell he knew exactly where the conversation was going. And that he didn’t like her mocking tone.

“Is there a problem, Nina?”

“You tell me. Is there something going on that could be a problem for me?”

She wanted to hear it from him. She wanted him to admit it out loud. She was tired of being treated like she was crazy, like she was imagining things. She wanted honesty.

Vincenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if hit by a sudden headache. “I need to talk to Mr Shelby, can we-”

“You’re talking to me,” Nina said firmly, raising her voice.

Her father straightened his back, leaning with his elbows on the wooden surface in front of him. He fixed his gaze on her, his features hardening with austerity. “Mind how you speak to me, I’m your father,” he warned her.

“So I should stay quiet while you make decisions about my life,” she spat out. The way he was trying to impose his authority on her just because he had no arguments to defend himself made her stomach churn.

“I’m not making decisions.”

“You are,” she slammed a hand on the the desk. “Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Her father reached his hand out, keeping his voice still low. “Calm down.”

“I will not calm down!”

Ferrante took a deep breath, raising from his chair to properly speak to his daughter. If there was one thing he didn’t tolerate, it was disrespect, but getting angry wouldn’t work, not now, at least. It would only make Nina more stubborn. If he wanted her to listen to him, he needed to get his point across nicely.

“What do you want to do with your life?” he asked her, apparently changing the subject.

Nina furrowed her brows, taken aback by his question. She could sense he was trying to direct the conversation somewhere, and she was quick to pull herself together.

“I want to study,” she said steadily.

“You’ve finished school,” he countered.

“There’s university.”

“Women don’t go to university.”

Nina squinted her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Then I want to work.”

“Poor women need to work. Do you want to ruin your hands in a factory?”

A glimpse of irony flashed across his face. Once again, his purpose seemed to be to make her feel stupid, or naive, like she had no idea how the world worked. The thing was, he was right, to some extent. Nina had little experience, she didn’t know everything. But there were things she knew, things she didn’t like, and she wasn’t going to accept them just because that was how life was.

Vincenzo walked around his desk to approach her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his expression softening. “I’m only worried about you,” he said. “About what your life will be like if you go on like this.”

“It’s my life, dad,” she whispered, feeling the tears well up in her eyes against her will. “Maybe you’re right, and I’m ruining myself with my own hands. But the choice is mine to make.”

Despite everything, she thought she could make him understand. There had to be a way to get through him, to make him see, she didn’t want to ruin the bond they had always had. Because she would make her own decisions either way, and she wished for him to support her. She needed him to support her.

“You’re my daughter. I can’t stand back and watch you do that to yourself,” he shook her slightly. “Let go of these fantasies, Nina. Real life is something else.”

Of course. How stupid of her to imagine that he could even try to understand. She shrugged his hands off, forcing back her tears. “You’re wrong.”

Her father nodded to himself, taking a step back. “We’ll see,” he simply said. “As for Stefano, I told you already. The choice is up to you, I’m not forcing you to do anything,” he reassured her, but his condescending tone had the opposite effect.

“You’re not forcing me to do anything, but that son of a bitch is always around.”

“Language.”

Nina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. He didn’t see the point. He didn’t want to see the point. He only cared about business, about power. Why was she wasting her time?

She made her way towards the door, but she stopped in her tracks when her hand grabbed the handle. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke again, but she didn’t around to look at him.

“You’re making a mistake.”

Tommy watched as Nina strode out of Ferrante’s study with a face like thunder. He had heard the screams, but he hadn’t been able to make out what the fuss was about, the long sequence of Italian sentences unfamiliar to him.

Those kinds of arguments had happened frequently, over the last three days. Nina had become unmanageable - not that she had ever been the manageable type. But she had gotten worse. If someone so much as glanced at her the wrong way or said one word too many, she’d turn it into an excuse to fight. She was sensitive, and snappish, and she seemed to have lost the ability to put on her mask of coolness and indifference. As a way to heal his wounded ego, which still burned from the things she had said to him, he told himself it was a good thing she had rejected him. If she had the gall to talk back to her father like that, there was no doubt she’d act even worse with her husband, and he had enough headaches already. And for sure, he would’ve never wanted to be at the receiving hand of her temper.

Nina stopped in front of him, recollecting herself, and Tommy couldn’t not notice she radiated the same frigidity as when they had met for the first time. “My father wants to see you, Mr Shelby,” she said coldly.

Ah, now she called him Mr Shelby. As if she hadn’t been whimpering his name in his ear a few nights before.

“I think we’re way past the formalities, sweetheart.”

His remark was enough to make her falter. She blinked up at him, shocked by his bluntness.

“Way past,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

“Will you lower your voice?” she hissed, taking a look around to make sure no one was near.

Tommy held back a smirk at her flustered state. Her usual frown had deepened, and a tinge of red had crept up her cheeks. Had the situation between them been different, he would’ve gladly went on. He had to remind himself he wasn’t in the position to tease her anymore. Nina had said it very clearly, she didn’t care about him. What had happened between them had been a mistake, she regretted it. She regretted him.

Then why were her eyes telling a different story?

Nina huffed, tucking a rebel strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s waiting for you,” she murmured.

Her arm brushed against his as she walked past him, sending a spark of electricity through his whole body. Leaving him wondering when he had gotten to the point where the slightest contact threatened to make his self-control crumble.

Nina examined her figure in the mirror, a niggling uneasiness taking over her. She wasn’t used to doll herself up like that. She had put on a beautiful dress for the occasion, done her makeup, managed to tame her long hair, and she had half-hoped she would be happy with the result once she was done. However, in her silk dress, in her makeup, with her hair away from her face, Nina felt like a fraud. Ridiculous, even.

She had always been the ugly duckling of the brood. When her cousins had started to bloom into beautiful women, she was still all elbows and knees, drawing the petty comments of her aunts, poorly hidden behind harmless jokes. She remembered all too well the embarrassment she felt every time they pointed out her flat chest, joking about how if she cut her hair she could be mistaken for a boy. She was ashamed to admit that even though she wasn’t that gawky kid anymore, those words had stuck with her. She tried to convince herself she didn’t care about being pretty, that her mind was her primary concern, but the truth was, sometimes she wanted to feel pretty.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself and just pretend, she told herself, straightening her back. It was a little exercise she had trained herself to do over the years. Head high, impassive face, don’t let them get to you, act like you know exactly what you want, walk like you know exactly where you’re going. It worked, most of the times. Maybe if she pretended long enough one day she’d be able to convince herself as well.

Once ready, she crossed the upstairs floor of the house, reaching the separate corridor in which her parents’ bedroom was located. Her mother was standing in front of a full-length mirror, fixing some pins in her hair. Nina leaned against the doorframe, and allowed herself to stay in her company for a while.

Out of the comfortable clothes she used to wear, out of the kitchen, out of the restraints of her role as a wife and a mother doomed to annihilate herself, she looked years younger. The dress she was wearing was modest, elegant, and the dark blue shade perfectly complimented her complexion. The shadow of a rare genuine smile grew on her face as she put on her pearl earrings, mixed with an emotion Nina couldn’t quite recognise. She could almost swear there were tears in her eyes. Nina realised she didn’t even remember the last time she had seen her mother taking care of her appearance like that, and that finally having the chance to do it must be a source of melancholy as well as joy. Was that what a life dedicated to the care of a whole family had done to her? Had she forgotten herself to that degree?

“What are you looking at?” Maria asked gruffly, glancing at her daughter through the mirror.

How sweet. Nina pursed her lips to hide a sly grin, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Nothing.”

Her mother frowned, smoothing down her dress, then she turned around to face her. She looked at the ground for a moment, then back at Nina, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “How do I look?”

A pang of sorrow spread in Nina’s chest at the thought that her mother might feel anything else but beautiful. “Stunning, mum,” she said truthfully.

“Is this too much?”

“No,” she shook her head. “It’s perfect.”

The older woman turned to the mirror again, her features softening. “Go downstairs, tell your father I’m almost ready.”

Reluctantly, Nina mustered up the courage to get out of her hiding, mechanical step after mechanical step, like a man facing the gallows. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to feel her relatives’ judgmental stares on her. She didn’t want to see Stefano. She didn’t want to watch Tommy and Agnese be officially presented as a couple. Husband and wife. It made her feel sick. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Tommy standing on top of the staircase, checking the time on his pocket watch, handsome in his formal attire.

His head shot up upon hearing the sound of her footsteps, and for a while it felt like the whole world had stopped turning just for him to have that moment. That moment to look at her, to take in the sight of her in her long, light blue dress that enhanced her tanned skin; with her ebony hair pinned up, exposing her delicate neck and cleavage, instead of hiding her as usual.

“You…” Tommy’s breath hitched in his throat, his mouth dry. You’re beautiful.

He didn’t dare say it.

“Hi,” Nina murmured, fidgeting with her own fingers. She had no idea of what to do or say. Standing there and staring at him like an idiot was clearly not an option, so she decided to approach the stairs. But one look at the long series of steps was enough for her to understand that there was no way she could descend it in her heels without making a fool of herself. Had she been alone, she would’ve gripped the railing like her life depended on it and ungracefully stomped her way down.

As if he had read her mind, Tommy offered her his arm without uttering a single word. He limited himself to peering at her, his gaze indecipherable, intense. Nina accepted his help, trying not to think about how natural it felt to have her hand in the crook of his elbow as they climbed down the stairs. Her legs were shaking, probably not because of the shoes, and she just hoped she wouldn’t trip over her feet and ruinously fall on her face. When she walked down the last step, she realised she had been holding her breath the whole time.

“Thank you,” she whispered, letting go of his arm.

Tommy nodded, taking a step back.

He needed a drink - or possibly two or three - to give him the strength to get through the night. Now more than ever he felt like he was putting handcuffs around his wrists rather than a ring on his finger. He had been telling himself that everything was going reasonably well, that following the plan which had been made over a month before was the best thing to do. He was going to marry the woman they had chosen for him, a beautiful woman, who would make him look good. Agnese was sweet, and gentle. She would take care of the house, of him, give him children. He would have a good life with her. She would bring him peace, turn his house into a safe place away from the wickedness of his business.

Nina would’ve brought him the storm. With her, a life of confrontation, of compromise, maybe even conflict would’ve awaited him. He would’ve had to answer to her, to accept her sharp edges and the sides of her that weren’t easy to deal with.

No, he was lying to himself. Confrontation, compromise, conflict had been his daily bread since he was a kid. His restless nature had never cared for peace. His skin was thick enough not to get cut on her edges. And pain had never scared him anyway. But that didn’t matter. The wedding would be in two weeks, then he would leave that place behind. Leave Nina behind. He’d forget about her like he had forgotten about Grace. He had done it once, he could do it again. Even if he’d prefer to rip his heart out of his chest.

For the engagement party, Agnese’s family had chosen to celebrate in the garden that surrounded the two houses. Everything had been planned with the outmost care: there were tables, flowers, candles, waiters balancing trays of champagne, musicians playing mesmerising tunes. A whole team of chefs had been hired for the delicious dinner. Nina had been pleased to find out that she wouldn’t have to share the table with Stefano, this time, who had sat with his family and other guests far away from her. Nevertheless, she had barely touched her food. Her stomach was still twisted from the events of the day. Now she was standing aside, watching as some couples gathered to dance. Including Tommy and Agnese.

They were both beautiful. Exceptionally so. Agnese was radiant in her ivory dress, she glowed with the happiness of a girl who was about to see all her dreams come true. Tommy held her in his arms with great gentleness as they swayed to the rhythm, and despite the vicious bites of jealousy, Nina was unable to look away. He’d fall in love with Agnese, of that she was sure. Her cousin was stunning, and sweet, and caring, all things Nina was not. Tommy would fall in love with Agnese and realise how blind he had been for ever setting his eyes on someone like her.

A tall figure came to stand by her side, and she was engulfed by the smell of a strong cologne mixed with cigar smoke. The man exuded an aura of power, dominance, along with a calm that was nothing more than a cover for something far more dangerous, unpredictable. Vito Spinietta. Her body tensed, and she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Sending him a sideways glance, she was met with his calculating gaze. He was inspecting her, assessing her, searching for any weak point as though he could read into her.

“Good evening,” he said, not taking his eyes off her.

“Good evening.”

A heavy silence followed. Nina wasn’t a fool, she was aware that if Stefano’s brother had taken the trouble to go speak to her it wasn’t to make small talk. The heir to the Spinietta empire was too practical a man to waste his time on pleasantries, and certainly wasn’t there for the pleasure of her company.

“I know there’s no point beating around the bush with you,” he said, confirming her suspicions. “So I’ll be direct. I’m here on behalf of my brother.”

Nina tilted her head in amusement. Had it really become a family matter? Had a no on her part caused such commotion?

“Stefano’s a good guy,” he announced solemnly. “It’s just that sometimes he acts the wrong way.”

Nina had to hold back a dismissive laugh at his statement. A good guy. It was almost as pathetic as the excuse he had made up for his behaviour.

“What am I supposed to do with this information?”

“He cares about you.”

“So you’ve taken it upon yourself to play Cupid,” she said bitterly, with a little edge of sarcasm, earning herself a stern look. “It doesn’t suit you,” she shook her head, mocking him behind an expression that was meant to feign innocent honesty.

Vito raised his chin, reacting with silence to her insolent replies. “It would be good to unite the families, considering the circumstances,” he said instead. “And a rejection could be seen as…” he paused, searching her face. “An offence.”

His words had Nina knitting her eyebrows in a frown. He had pronounced them in an ambiguous, vague way, but she hadn’t missed the gloomy undertone. “Is this a threat?”

“What do you take me for?” he asked, clearly just pretending to be offended. “I’d never threaten a woman.”

He was playing the card of the man of honour. As if he and his brother hadn’t done even worse to the girls of the town. She had to say something now. Too long had she let Stefano scare her, she wouldn’t make the same mistake with Vito. The Spiniettas weren’t the only ones who got power, she came from a tough family as well, and she would no longer forget who she was.

“Listen,” she started, turning to properly look at him. “I’m not scared of you, or your brother, or your threats.”

Vito clenched his jaw, his mouth twisting into a grimace.

Nina took a step towards him, further decreasing the already short distance between them. “You two think you can do as you please because I am a woman?” she narrowed her eyes. “Think again. Cause one word from me and you’ll see your whole organisation fall around your ears.”

“Is this a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

Nina wanted to see his mask slip. She wanted him to reveal himself, like Stefano had revealed himself not so long ago, when he had put his hands on her in her own house. She wanted him to give her a reason to draw her knife on him, there, in front of everyone. But Vito wasn’t Stefano. It would take a lot more to make him lose his composure.

Vito took a step back, observing her. He could see why his brother was so adamant on having her. Stefano had always loved a good challenge. He didn’t want someone obedient by nature, someone who would listen to his every command. He wanted someone difficult, someone he could take his time to bend. Or break. It would’ve taken way more than a few slaps to break that one.

Their conversation came to an end when Stefano walked up to Nina, holding out his hand to her. “Wanna dance?”

Nina took a look around. Her situation hadn’t gone unnoticed: most of the guests had been peering at her and Vito, trying to figure out what was going on, and now that Stefano had entered the picture, they were sending them subtle glances, waiting to see if Nina would’ve accepted his invitation. Her first instinct was to say no, but leaving him there in front of everyone would cause quite the stir, and surely take the attention away from the new couple. That was Agnese’s night, and she didn’t have the right to ruin it for her. Not after what she had already done. So she placed her hand in his, and unwillingly let him lead her to the dance floor.

His hand was light on her waist as he lead the dance, yet that contact felt heavy, violent. It made her skin crawl. She focused on the ground behind his shoulders, trying to ignore the weight of people’s stares on them. She was afraid to raise her head and find out Tommy was watching too.

It didn’t take her long to detach herself from her surroundings. She didn’t hear the music, she didn’t see the couples dancing around them, she was only uncomfortably aware of Stefano’s proximity, of the heat of his body, of the burning marks his hands seemed to leave into her flesh. He had the predatory eyes of a raptor as he scrutinised the uncovered parts of her body, taking on the appearance of a beast waiting for the right moment to bite.

“I love you, Nina,” he whispered in her ear, his tone pleading. “I want to make you happy. I want to give you everything.”

Nina could read it on his face. He did think he loved her, he was truly convinced that his sick obsession was love. It’s wasn’t merely a matter of wounded ego, he was sincerely hurt in his own, twisted way. And that was something that could potentially make him even more dangerous. A shiver ran down her spine, but she forced herself not to shy away, and she let him speak without interrupting him.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes with you, and I want to fix them. Let me make it right.” His arm tightened around her as he brought her even closer. “I can be good to you.” There was desperation now in his voice. Nina tried to put some distance between them, but he didn’t let her. “I can be good to you, and you can be good to me. I’ll teach you how to be good to me.” His fingers curled around her hand in a painful grip. “Think about what we could be together. Say yes.”

Nina squeezed her eyes, overwhelmed by his insistent touch, his urgent words; disgusted by the image of them living in the same house that had forced itself into her mind; repulsed by his eagerness to mould her.

The music ended, bringing them back to reality. Nina was relieved to be able to pull away from Stefano, whose grip had finally loosened. He was out of his mind if he thought she could ever forget what he had done to her. A wave of rage ran through her, but she was careful not to let it show. Straightening her back, she looked him dead in the eyes, and just one word left her mouth.

“No.”

Stefano’s face fell, disappointment and anger battling in his irises, and his fist clenched by his side. However, Nina didn’t stay there to wait for a reaction. She turned on her heels and walked away from him, from the dance floor, from the crowd of nosy guests. Her inner turmoil grew with every step, and her state of panic was such that she didn’t even realise she had entered her house. With an irritated huff, she hastily fumbled with her impractical shoes and left them at the entrance, then sought refuge in her bedroom.

She took some deep breaths, rubbing her face. It felt like the more she tried to fix things, the more she made them worse, and there was no way out of that endless cycle. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to act? Who was she supposed to beg to drag her out of that situation? Because it was becoming clearer and clearer that she wouldn’t be able to make it by herself. When had things taken that turn? Had there been a mistake, a single, fateful mistake she had made that had caused all of that? Or was it someone else’s fault? Or was it no one’s fault?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Racking her brains to find a pattern, to put order to the events was useless. They were too tangled, too intricate. It hadn’t started when she had made love with Tommy, nor when he had kissed her, nor when he had appeared in her life. It hadn’t even started when she had pointed a knife at Stefano’s throat, nor when she had let him get close to her all those years ago at school. Had it started, perhaps, when she had insisted on studying? Was it her punishment for wanting more than she could have? More questions, still no answers. The worst thing was, she couldn’t see a way out.

There was a soft knocking on the open door, and when Nina turned around Tommy was there. He looked exhausted, as if the evening had drained him of all his energy. It was unusual to see him like that, he wasn’t the kind of man who let his distress show. For the first time, she realised how much the whole marriage situation had taken a toll on him.

If the reasonable part of her wanted him to leave, the other - the one she seemingly had no control over - needed him close to her. It was absurd how reassuring his presence felt. Maybe that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. When everything around her was swirling, when there was nothing certain or reliable, Tommy was stable, solid. Something to hold on to.

Nina forced those thoughts away. She was losing her mind. Tommy was the least stable thing in her life. He wasn’t there to stay, he would leave in two weeks time and she would never see him again, except for a few occasions, like Christmas or maybe weddings. Indulging in that kind of fantasy would only make things harder.

“Is this your plan?” Tommy suddenly asked, a hint of accusation leaking out of his neutral tone. “Say yes to Spinietta?”

Nina felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her, and her musings disappeared to give way to pure surprise. “What?” she asked in disbelief, widening her eyes.

“You heard me.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’d never do that.”

“Is that why you were dancing with him?” he raised his eyebrows, pointing at the door with his finger, as if Stefano were outside the room.

Nina shook her head, still not believing they were actually having that conversation. “You shouldn’t mix whiskey with champagne,” she said dryly, her voice coming out harsher than she had intended. But Tommy didn’t seem fazed by it.

“You looked rather intimate,” he noted with a touch of contempt, too upset to realise how preposterous his assumptions sounded.

Nina’s mouth fell agape. She hadn’t missed the inflection in his voice. Was he… jealous? She squinted her eyes, taking a step towards him. “What’s this?” she inquired.

Her question seemed to catch him off guard. He wavered, and an emotion difficult to define flashed across his features. It was more than simply pain. It was like all the resentment Tommy had harboured since that fateful afternoon was flowing out, inexorable, making him unable to think with a clear mind. Biting back was the only way he had to protect the feelings he had foolishly let show. Guilt ate at her stomach at the sight, and she had to remind herself she had done what she had done for him, before anyone else.

As if finally coming back to himself, Tommy clenched his jaw, and took on his usual, impassive expression. “I can’t believe you,” he murmured. “After everything he’s done to you.”

Nina nervously fidgeted with her fingers, not knowing how to make him see that he couldn’t be more wrong. Did he think so little of her? “I’m not..” she trailed off, torn between her sense of guilt and her pride. The latter took the upper hand. She frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have no right to lecture me.”

“True,” he nodded. “I have no right. Cause what happened between us was a mistake and you don’t care about me.”

That was the point. That had always been the point. Tommy thought she had cruelly played him, maybe even used him, just to discard him when she didn’t want him anymore. She exhaled deeply, not meeting his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like that,” he let out a humourless chuckle. “You said it, you’re taking it back now?”

“Stop it.”

“Eh?” Tommy’s voice raised, overlapping hers. “Are you taking it back?”

“I said stop.”

“You said-”

“I lied!” she snapped.

A tense silence fell in the room. Tommy blinked, and all the bitterness faded from his features. “Wha… what?” he stuttered, a confused frown forming on his face.

Nina didn’t regret her admission. She was so tired of pretending, of lying, of hurting him, and saying it out loud lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“I lied,” she repeated, more softly. “I never meant to hurt you. I…” her voice cracked. “I did it to protect you. To protect both of us.” There was no going back now. Her walls had been breached, and the words she had fought hard to keep to herself were leaving her lips before she had the chance to measure them. “Do you have any idea how much we’re risking? I’m risking? We talked about it, I told you how these things work.”

Tentatively, Tommy broke the distance between them, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. “Is this what you’re scared of?” he asked incredulous, searching her face frantically, his frown deepening. “I’d never let anything bad happen to you. I’d never let anyone lay a fucking finger on you. You hear me?”

Nina believed him. He would stand between her and harm’s way without a second thought. But that was the problem. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over it before pulling it away from her face. “And what about you?”

“What?”

“Do you really think you could’ve changed your mind? That they would let you, at that point? You made your decision when you started courting Agnese.”

“Maybe they would’ve understood-”

“No. Her father would’ve wanted your head for humiliating his daughter. The deal would’ve been off and you would’ve been six feet underground in a matter of hours.”

And I’d never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, she wanted to add.

Tommy didn’t reply, but the pain in his eyes spoke for him. He knew she was right.

Nina gently stroked his cheek. “We never had a chance,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not worth starting a war over.”

Tommy squeezed his eyelids, shaking his head as if to chase that unbearable thought away. Then, impetuously, he kicked the door shut and crushed his lips against hers. The force of the kiss knocked Nina’s breath out of her lungs, but she was quick to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together.

Tommy backed her towards the dresser behind her, then he hoisted her up in his strong arms and sat her on it. A groan left his lips when Nina hooked a leg around him, bringing him even closer. His hands roamed down to her hips, gripping, squeezing, his tongue exploring her sweet mouth. He relished her warmth, her scent, her soft hands caressing his face, trying to imprint every little feeling into his memory. He wanted her, in the most raw, primal way. Because it was the only way he had to have her. Or at least, to delude himself he did. She was like water in his hands, she slipped through his fingers again and again, never letting him hold her, never letting him keep her. But with his fingers digging in her skin, she almost seemed real.

Pulling away to catch his breath, Tommy dropped his forehead into her neck, grabbing her waist. “You’re killing me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Tears began to stream down Nina’s cheeks. She felt like the worst person alive. She was causing so much pain, to him, to herself. She gently stroked the back of his head, sniffling. “You should go,” she compelled herself to say, although in that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to stay. “They’ll notice your absence.”

“They’re all drunk, they won’t,” he contradicted her.

“Agnese will.”

“She’s with her sisters.”

“But-”

Tommy’s head shot up to look at her, silencing her with his icy glare. “Fuck them,” he husked, wiping away her tears.

Fuck them.

Their mouths collided again. Blood rushed through Nina’s veins as Tommy kissed her hungrily. She could feel him everywhere, she was completely enveloped by him, by his smell of soap, whiskey and cigarettes, by the feeling of his rough hands, and yet she wanted more. She wanted to crumble and be brought into a new existence, to melt in his arms and become one heart, one body, one soul.

They only parted so she could help Tommy get free of his jacket. He was back on her right away, leaving a trail of kisses from her neck down to her chest, his teeth grazing the soft skin from time to time, making goosebumps ripple down her skin. He impatiently lifted her dress, fingers brushing against her smooth legs. More free to move, Nina allowed him more space, and her insides clenched with desire when she felt the bulge in his trousers against her.

Tommy’s hand ghosted over her clothed sex, making her squirm in anticipation. “Tommy,” she moaned, urging him to touch her where she needed the most. Pushing her underwear to the side, he slid two digits into her wet entrance, coaxing a sinful, beautiful sound out of her lips. Nina held onto his shoulders as he started to move his fingers, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Tommy commanded, cupping her chin with his free hand. Her eyelids fluttered open, showing him her glossy eyes filled with pleasure, causing his cock to painfully twitch.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her, working her open, eliciting small gasps from her that threatened to make him lose his mind. His thumb went to stroke her clit, the unexpected motion making her yelp.

Fuck, she was so beautiful.

“Tommy, please…” she whispered, clutching the soft material of his shirt. “I need you.”

She didn’t need to say it twice. Wasting no time, Tommy slid his fingers out of her to get rid of her knickers, discarding them somewhere on the floor, then fumbled with his trousers, finally freeing himself from all restraints. He grabbed Nina’s thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the dresser so he could position himself between her folds, then he entered her with one swift thrust, burying himself inside of her. Nina hid her face in his shoulder, one hand coming to cup the nape of his neck, the other clutching the fabric of his shirt. Tommy began to rock his hips, firmly yet slowly, giving her the time to adjust to the feeling of him stretching her walls.

Nina clung onto him as if he could shield her from the unknown, as if he were a shelter, a place where she could forget, even for a moment, the uncertain future that awaited her. A future she tried to escape from, but the more she ran, the more she found it on her heels, ready to catch her, to drag her into the darkness that had been threatening her for years.

Tommy’s pace quickened, becoming more desperate, almost brutal, arms wrapped around her waist, bringing every inch of their bodies together. Nina was surprised to find that was exactly what she needed in that moment. It kept her anchored to him and only him.

“You feel so good,” Tommy growled, digging his fingers in her flesh, and her cheeks burned at his words.

He set a merciless rhythm, pounding into her with sharp thrusts. Nina barely recognised the sounds that were coming out of her, but she was too lost in her pleasure to be worried about them. Breath hitched in her throat when he reached a particular spot that made her see stars, and he hit it again and again, drawing shaky whimpers out of her. With each minute that passed she felt closer and closer to her release, and Tommy must’ve been aware of that too. She let out a strangled noise when he brought a finger to her swollen clit, the fire in her abdomen too much to bear.

“C’mon, love,” he rasped. “Cum for me.”

He drew small circles on her sensitive bud, pushing her over the edge. Her walls fluttered around his cock, shockwaves gripping her body as she came undone. Tommy kept on thrusting into her, hips ruthlessly snapping as he chased his climax, until with a last, powerful thrust, he emptied himself inside of her, grunting in her ear.

For a while, neither of them moved. They stayed in each other’s embrace, panting, savouring that ephemeral semblance of peace. Nina nuzzled her cheek against his, the comforting scent of his aftershave filling her nostrils. Neither of them seemed to intend to let go first.

God, she didn’t want to let him go. Before she could control them, tears filled Nina’s eyes again, and she tried her best to prevent them from falling. Why did it have to be so hard? Why did she have to fall for the one man she could never have? Why did her happiness have to cause so much damage? The most irrational part of it was that despite all of that, being in his arms felt like the rightest thing in the world. They perfectly moulded together like they had been created just fit into each other’s arms, to fill each other’s voids. Nothing she had ever felt could compare to it.

Eventually, they moved apart. They fixed their clothes in silence, pulling themselves together as best they could. Not that Nina cared at all. There was no way she was going back to the party. No one would notice anyway.

“Go,” she whispered, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead. “They must be looking for you.”

Tommy gently cradled the back of her head, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll come to you later,” he promised.

Nina nodded, forcing herself to smile. But tears started flowing as soon as she watched him walk out the door.

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

@look-at-the-soul @gathania93 @wonderlanddreamer @thelastemzy @meadows5

@emotionalcadaver

General tag list:

@iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

@caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24

@kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @areyenotfondofmelobster

@red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list:

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x oc

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nekohime19 · 3 days

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AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with?

Idk what happened but I just had the funniest idea ever and I just had to write it. So basically it's a reddit post style short story with Wukong's pov. It's an interactive story so the comments will be used as the answers. There will probably be a part two (maybe even a part three) but I don't think I'll write more than that.

Shadowpeach is the end goal and we don't forgive cheaters in this household.

Also sorry Spider Queen, love ya.

AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with?

Okay, so I'm not used to this internet madness but my successor once said it could help sometimes so here I am sharing drama.

So I (5000, He/him monkey immortal) have been dating this other person we'll call Venom (??, She/her, spider demon) for quite some time. And I've been quite happy with her. I know I'm not the most… upfront with things and I have issues (like a lot) but she liked me and we worked well together.

But then we got into more arguments when I began to train my successor (21, he/him, human???), we'll call him… Bud, just because.

The thing is, Venom got this whole world domination plan, which is kinda normal for demons. A lot of demons do that. And it never really bothered me because I was retired (for context I'm a retired hero who used to battle demons a lot). Besides, I had some kind of the same phase in my youth so I just thought it would pass when she'd realize it's kind of a stupid plan, and anyway she never did anything to achieve it.

But then I found a successor, Bud, and I began to train him to protect the city and fight demons, all that heroing stuff. Venom, of course, wasn't happy with that and we began to get into arguments. She accused me of betraying her and I just told her I was a hero from the start so she shouldn't have expected me to agree with her view and all.

Things got really bad when Venom decided to pull a end-of-the-world shit show on New Year when we agreed beforehand to go on a date that day. It felt like she was spiting me. Plus, she destroyed more than half of the city and gave Bud a really awful time so I was, understably I think, very angry with her.

We got on our biggest argument and took some time apart to cool off. But then Venom got back all sweet and said to leave that behind us, so I was very happy and just decided to forget our arguments entirely. I thought she just decided to stop her world domination thing. It wasn't weird for us to do that. Not the first time we got into an argument about heroing and usually we just get back together after a little bit and decide to move on.

But then I started to notice some weird stuff about Venom. Like, she was on her phone a lot more (when she always thought those mortal things were lame before) and she was kinda dismissive and distant. She forgot some of our dates and had some lame excuses, like taking weeks of vacation or something??? When she never did that before.

In hindsight maybe I shouldn't have done that but I'm a monkey you know, so I'm naturally curious. So I took her phone and snooped around a bit.

Turns out Venom was cheating on me with another guy (??, he/him, monkey demon) we'll call him Six. She was seeing him behind my back and all, planning date and calling him “darling”, 🤢. I saw red. Like cheating ???? I know we have our ups and downs but to the point of cheating on me? I was really hurt by this.

So, I don't know, to try to calm down I started to investigate on Six. Like what kind of guy he is? Is he better than me? I was kinda surprised to discover he's another celestial monkey, like I always thought I was the only one?? But also it kinda hurt because Venom was cheating with a cheap dark version of me.

So I got petty.

I wanted revenge. And info. I decided I was gonna confront this Six guy first and pull a Monkey Cop, sussing him out to see if he was aware of my existence and to clarify this situation. Maybe I should have just talked to Venom but, idk, I guess some part of me was dreading the confrontation with her.

So I got to Six workplace with a disguise and all (sunglasses and hoodie). He works in the local theater and, okay, he was kind of good on stage. I'm not gonna lie, he's also kinda cute. Just a little bit. So I approached him at the end of the show, praising him for the performance.

One thing led to another and we kinda took dinner together??? I learned he moved in recently and that he got in a relationship with Venom three months ago (which hurt). But he seemed to genuinely like her and had no idea he was the side piece here. Sooo, maybe I took pity on him, like the guy didn't deserve that? I offered him a bottle and we got waisted. In hindsight, a really bad idea, especially since I have a loose mouth when I'm drunk.

We had a fun night, doing stuff together. He admitted my disguise was shit (which, rude 🙄) and was excited to meet another celestial monkey. We talked about our experiences and we really bonded. Annnd, I got to ruin it and spill the beans, saying the truth about how Venom is in fact my girlfriend.

At first he didn't believe me, but then I pulled pictures and, yeah, he was understandably upset. He kinda looks hot when mad. We got even more waisted and cried and cursed Venom and ate ice cream then we got on my mountain, drank some more of my personal celestial wine collection, and watched Monkey Cop… Then I say “You're kinda cute.” and he says “You too”.... One thing led to another and, yeah, we slept together.

And so now I'm in my bed typing this with the worst headache on earth and with very obvious marks of what happened last night on me. Six is sleeping next to me and I'm questioning my life (and my sexuality???)

WHAT DO I DO????

AITA ??

#shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach fanfic #sun wukong #six eared macaque #lmk shadowpeach #Reddit post story #Wukong love life is a mess #Monkey gay awakening #AITA shadowpeach

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blackenedsnow · 19 hours

Note

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

#beetlejuice #keatlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #keatlejuice x reader #beetlejuice movie #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic

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rootedinrevisions · 17 hours

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Breaking an Already Broken Heart

SUMMARY: Struggling with a failing marriage and reeling from Tyler’s betrayal, she confronts him at a bar after learning he had been secretly involved with a mutual friend for years. Already heartbroken from her own relationship problems, the revelation shatters her further. Despite her anger and hurt, she finds herself leaning on Tyler, who, despite being the source of her pain, is also her best friend and the only one who can hold her together.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I said I was going to take a few days away from writing, and I do still plan on taking a lot of time the next four days for my mental health so I can't guarantee when or if there will be any more stuff coming until next week. But writing is almost therapeutic to me so I decided to see if it would help. I couldn't sleep, so I wrote this last night at about 3am, and I wanted to share it.

WARNINGS: Angst. Like the kind that hits you right in the chest and gut.

WORD COUNT: 1.6K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The bar was one of those unassuming places—the kind of spot where the lights were low, the air was thick with the scent of old wood and spilled beer, and the music was just loud enough to drown out the noise in her head. It was familiar, too familiar. She and Tyler had spent more nights here than she could count, back when things were simple—back when she didn’t know about him and their mutual friend.

Now, it felt different. The weight of the truth sat heavily in her chest as she nursed her drink, trying to push back the sting of betrayal that clawed at her throat. Tyler was beside her, quiet. His presence, usually calming, only added to the turmoil inside her.

He knew she was upset, knew the revelation had rocked her. But Tyler was never one to push. He just waited, like always, his hand resting lightly on the back of her chair, a silent promise that he was still there, still her best friend, despite everything.

She took another sip, the alcohol burning its way down her throat, but it did nothing to dull the ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice was quieter than she intended, the hurt slipping through despite her efforts to keep it hidden. She didn’t look at him, couldn’t bring herself to.

Tyler shifted in his seat, and she felt his eyes on her. His fingers brushed the small of her back, a touch so familiar, but now it felt different—like a reminder of all the things unsaid between them. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” He admitted, his voice low.

She let out a bitter laugh, finally turning to face him. “Well, congrats. You did.”

The weight of her words hung between them. Tyler’s hand remained on her chair, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on the wood, a habit she hadn’t noticed before. His silence frustrated her, but she wasn’t sure what she expected him to say. There wasn’t an apology in the world that would fix this, not when the hurt went so deep.

“I know I messed up,” he said finally, his voice thick with regret. “And I’m sorry. But…” He sighed, shaking his head like he was trying to gather the right words. “I didn’t know it would affect you like this.”

She blinked at him, her frustration rising. “How could it not? You’ve been sleeping with her for years, Tyler. And I’ve been here—your friend, your… whatever we were. I thought I knew you. I thought…” Her voice faltered, breaking as the pain surged forward. “I thought I mattered.”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, without a word, he reached for her drink and set it aside, replacing it with a glass of water. “Drink this,” he said softly.

The weight of everything crashed down on you the second Tyler placed the glass of water in front of her. It wasn’t just about him. It wasn’t just about the years of lies that had unraveled in one night, breaking the fragile trust between them. It was the fact that she was already shattered—cracks from her marriage splintering her heart long before the mutual friend threw the truth about her and Tyler into the mix.

She stared at the water, feeling the tears build at the corners of her eyes. Her marriage was hanging by a thread, and she’d spent so long pretending it was salvageable, clinging to the hope that maybe things could still work. But deep down, she knew it was over. Every fight, every cold shoulder from her husband, every too-friendly message between him and "just a friend" had left her feeling small and discarded.

Her hands curled into fists in her lap. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not,” he said, still calm, still steady. “But you’ll feel like shit if you keep drinking on an empty stomach.”

She huffed, rolling her eyes, but she drank the water anyway. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked out for her, and she hated how much she needed it now. She was angry–angry at him, angry at the situation, angry at herself for still wanting him to be the one who held her together when she felt like she was falling apart.

She had come to Tyler tonight because she needed her best friend—the one person who always made her feel like she wasn’t unraveling at the seams. But now, he had made it worse. He had broken a heart that was already broken.

The silence between the two felt heavier now, suffocating almost. Tyler hadn’t said a word since his confession, but he didn’t have to. She could feel his guilt in the way his hand stayed at the back of her chair, tentative, like he was scared she might pull away completely if he pushed too hard.

“I didn’t need this,” she said, finally breaking the silence, her voice shaking as she struggled to hold back the tears. “Tyler, I’m already dealing with my marriage falling apart. I’m barely holding myself together, and now this? You’ve been lying to me, too.”

He flinched at her words but stayed quiet, his gaze heavy with remorse. She knew he wasn’t one to offer excuses, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. She was unraveling, and the one person she thought she could count on had yanked another thread loose.

“I don’t even know what hurts more,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “The fact that my husband might be cheating on me, or that you—you, of all people—have been sleeping with her behind my back for four years. I don’t even care that you slept with her. I haven’t cared about who you sleep with in years. But you hiding it from me? For this long? It feels like a joke. A really cruel joke.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t meet his gaze. If she did, she knew the tears would spill over, and wasn’t ready for that. Not here. Not in front of him.

Tyler shifted beside her, his hand resting more firmly against her back, grounding her. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted to hurt you. I swear I didn’t.”

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, you did. And the timing couldn’t be worse.” She took a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. “You have no idea how tired I am, Tyler. How exhausted I am from pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

“I know you’re hurting,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry I added to it. If I could take it back, I would.”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight with emotion. “The worst part is, you were the one person I thought would always be there when everything else fell apart. I didn’t expect to lose you too.”

For a moment, the two of them just sat there, the weight of everything unsaid settling between them. His fingers brushed the small of her back again, and this time, the touch felt like an apology. It wasn’t enough, but it was something.

"You don't have to lose me too. I still want to be here for you. If you'll let me."

Without thinking, she leaned over, resting her head on his shoulder, the need for comfort winning over her anger.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to fix anything anymore.”

Tyler’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. “You don’t have to fix it all,” he said softly. “Not right now.”

She sat like that for a while, the silence stretching between them, but this time it felt different. Less tense, more familiar, like the years of friendship were still there, holding them together despite the cracks.

When her favorite song came on, Tyler shifted beside her, pulling away just enough to catch her eye. “Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand like he had countless times before.

She stared at his outstretched hand for a moment, unsure whether to accept, but something inside her caved. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling the sharp edges of her anger, or maybe it was the familiarity of his presence, but she let him pull her to her feet.

The music was slow, and before she knew it, his hands were on her waist, and her head was resting against his chest. She hated how safe it felt, how his arms around her made her feel like maybe, for just a second, everything wasn’t falling apart.

As they swayed together, she closed her eyes and let herself speak. “I should hate you, Tyler.”

“I know,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

“But I can’t,” she confessed, the words barely a whisper.

“I know,” he repeated, his grip tightening around her just a little, like he was trying to hold all the broken pieces of her together.

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I’m so hurt,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “But I can’t lose you. Not now. I need you, Tyler. You’re the only one who can keep me from falling apart.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her against him as if he could somehow shield her from everything breaking down around her.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I’ve always got you.”

And for the rest of the song, he held her close, like he was trying to be the one constant in a life that felt like it was slipping out of control. For now, it was enough. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not forever, but for this moment, she let herself lean on him, letting the pain and confusion blur into the background as his arms wrapped around her.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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polkadotpenguin16 · 2 days

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The Five Stages of Grief: Acceptance

A/N: That’s it! We’ve done it!! If you had told me a year ago that I was going to write a whole-ass story, I wouldn’t have believed you. But here we are – life’s funny, isn’t it? Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who’s been following along with my story. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I was capable of writing something anyone would enjoy reading. All the likes, reblogs, and comments have really added a sparkle to my life I didn’t know I needed. Also, extra huge thank you to the lovelies who reviewed, edited, and let me ramble on about my idea. This could not have been done without you and I am forever grateful <3

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Word count: 2,985

Previous parts: Prologue | Denial | Anger | Bargaining | Depression

Also posted on AO3.

You didn’t need to tell Sonny where to meet you in Prospect Park. He knew the exact spot. On your fourth date, you took a walk through the park. Out of nowhere, it started pouring down rain, so you took cover under a gazebo. That was where you shared your first kiss, and that memory would forever be engrained in his head.

Even though you were fifteen minutes early, Sonny was already waiting for you in that gazebo. You shouldn’t have been surprised at this point. He sat hunched over on the bench with his arms on his knees. He looked up when he heard you but didn’t say anything. He didn’t look like your Sonny. The sparkle was drained from his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. You knew the feeling. You sat beside him on the bench, leaving an uncomfortable amount of distance between you. The tension from when you last met still lingered in the air, but the mood felt less defensive and more cautious.

“Thank you for meeting me,” you said to break the ice. Your heart was in your throat. Your anxiety wasn’t as high as last time, but you were nonetheless still nervous. Your hands were clammy, and your leg was restlessly bouncing, making the bench squeak beneath you. But you needed to be here, to make things right.

Sonny nodded in response. He was no longer despondent or resentful but still felt very guarded. He was prepared to accept the outcome of your conversation, whether that meant moving forward or moving on.

“Well, I have a lot of apologizing to do.” You rummaged through your bag to find your phone. “So I made a list to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

Sonny didn’t come here today expecting an apology. He was the one who messed up, in his mind. But writing an apology as an itemized list was such a “you” thing to do. He was always fond of how meticulous you were.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you began. “Let’s start with number one: I’m sorry for leaving that night. Packing up without a word was wrong, and I should’ve stayed and talked with you. Number two: I’m sorry for avoiding you. You reached out to apologize and reconcile, and I was unwilling to communicate. It was childish and unproductive of me to ignore you.”

You paused briefly to glance up at Sonny’s face. His expression was neutral, but you could tell by how his eyes were fixed onto you that he was listening intently. Sonny was so surprised by your words that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. He’d spent more time worrying about your feelings than examining his own. This apology was like a salve to a deep cut he hadn’t noticed. Closure he didn’t know he needed.

You looked back at your phone and continued down your list. “Um, number three: I’m sorry for the unforgivable things I said to you when we fought. I didn’t mean them, but I know that’s no excuse, nor does it take anything back. Number four: I’m sorry for being jealous of your relationship with Amanda. You assured me she was just your friend, and I should’ve never doubted you. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for, and I should not have made you feel bad for being just that.”

Sonny broke his gaze away from you. He felt ashamed that he’d missed what others had seen. And that you felt the need to apologize for his actions. That guilt-fueled churning in his stomach he’d become so familiar with made a return.

Still concentrating on your list, you resumed. “And number five: I’m sorry for not being honest about how I was feeling. I pretended I was okay with how things were and that was unfair to you. I should’ve been upfront when I started feeling neglected so that you could’ve had the chance to respond. I’m not apologizing here today with the expectation that I’ll be forgiven.” You wiped away the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. “I know I’ve caused damage that I may not be able to repair. I want to be with you Sonny, if you’ll have me. I promise to be more open, understanding, and to communicate better. I love you, and I’m willing to put in the work to fix us.”

You put your phone away and gave him a look that you hoped conveyed all the remorse you felt. “If there’s anything else I’ve missed that I still need to apologize for, feel free to tell me. I’m ready to take responsibility for my mistakes.”

Sonny sat in silence for a beat, a solemn, unreadable expression on his face. You’d said your piece, and now you’ll have to live with the consequences. You held your breath and braced yourself for whatever he had to say next.

“…My hairbrush,” he said flatly. Unsure if you’d heard him correctly, you couldn’t help but give a confused look. “You took my hairbrush with you that night. My hair’s looked like crap ever since.”

You immediately burst out laughing, folding in half in your seat. He just wanted to hear you laugh again. It’d been so long since he’d heard your laugh. It was the most magical sound he’d ever heard.

“Well, I’m sorry for that, too,” you wheezed out as you tried to catch your breath. “I didn’t take it on purpose. That was cruel and unusual punishment.”

Now it was Sonny’s turn to laugh. He chuckled so hard his sides began to hurt. Any tension between you had disappeared. For the past week, you felt like strangers. After all the heartbreak and turmoil, you could finally recognize each other again.

“Thank you, doll, for that very thoughtful apology,” he said once he composed himself. “I forgive you, and I wanna work on fixing us together. But first, it’s my turn to apologize.”

“No, you don’t, Sonny. You’ve already—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “I don’t have a fancy list like you did, but I’ll try my best.”

You smirked and shook your head. He aways poked fun at your lists, and your lists for your lists. You sat back and gave him the floor.

“I’m so sorry I forgot our date. But more than that, I’m sorry for all the canceled dates before that. I know my job’s insane and keeps me away a lot, and you’ve been a saint to put up with me as long as you have. You’re my priority, and from now on, I’m gonna treat you as such.”

You felt a warm glow in your heart. Just a few words, and all the sadness from so many lonely nights seemed to fade away. You could’ve stopped him there, completely content with his apology. But you let him continue letting his feelings out.

“Also, I haven’t been the best at communicating either. I should not have lost my temper the way I did, or confronted you at work. I was angry and afraid, but I should’ve found a better way to express that. I’m gonna work on that.”

With each word he spoke, he could feel his soul getting lighter. Freeing himself of the guilt that had dominated him. And the gentle smile on your face told him that he was saying the right things.

“And with Rollins…you don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You opened your mouth to interject, but he held his hand up to stop you. “I understand where the jealousy came from. I just wish you’d told me sooner. But you were right. There’s only so much I can do, and I’m gonna take a step back. I know we can’t just go back to how things were, but I’d like to start fresh and take things slow. I thought I’d lost you—” his voice cracked as he held back his tears.

You reached out your hand from across the bench. What was only a foot or two felt like miles. Like a bridge across stormy waters, bringing you back together. Deeply touched, he took your hand, comforted by the familiar fit in his. “You’re the best part of my life and I’ve been taking you for granted. Can you forgive me?”

You looked at him with adoration beaming from your eyes. “I already have.”

He squeezed your hand and gently rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “Y’know, if you still wanna walk away, now’s your last chance.” He wiped the last remaining tears from your face. “’Cause if you stay, I’m not letting you get away again. Ever.”

You turned your head to kiss his palm that was still lingering on your cheek. “No, Sonny, I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled and shook your head, sure in your decision. “There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with.”

Sonny’s smile was so bright, it could’ve lit up Time Square itself. He pulled you close and wrapped you in an impossibly tight hug. You’d almost forgotten how it felt to be held by him. How warm and safe his arms felt.

“I love you, sunshine,” you murmured against his chest.

“Love you more, doll.” He took your face into his hands and gave you a gentle kiss. You threaded your arms around his neck and kissed him deeper. Everything and everyone else at the park that day completely faded away – there was just you and him. Goosebumps shot across your body as you got lost in the taste of each other. A kiss that felt as if it were months in the making.

The tender moment was rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, causing you both to giggle. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for the past week, and it seemed like your anxious tummy ache had abruptly disappeared. Sonny sat back so he could see you better. “How’s about we get something to eat? I believe I owe you dinner at a fancy restaurant.”

“Maybe another day,” you replied. “I’d rather go home together and have you cook us something. Is that okay?” Hearing you say that made Sonny teary. You said home. With him.

Together.

He grabbed your hand and kissed it with an enormous grin growing across his face. “That’s more than okay, doll.” With that, you got up and began your stroll through the park back to your apartment.

Back home.

When you arrived, you decided to jump in the shower while Sonny started dinner. He hadn’t been to the store for a couple of days, so it was slim pickings. He found half a carton of eggs and a small cut of pancetta in the back of the fridge. Carbonara it is, then.

He just finished frying the pancetta when you returned to the kitchen. When he turned around at the sound of your footsteps, he was stunned by what he saw. It was you wearing his ratty, gray Fordham hoodie. It was such a normal, everyday thing for you to be wearing. But in that moment, after all you’ve been through, the gesture meant the world to Sonny. He started to feel the cracks of his heart begin to heal.

“Everything okay?” You asked, a bit concerned by his dazed look.

“Yeah, everything’s perfect.”

Sonny plated the pasta, and you sat down for dinner at your tiny table. It felt like ages since you’d gotten to talk to each other. You explained how you wanted to start therapy to work on your self-esteem and conflict avoidance. You wanted to be the best version of yourself for both you and Sonny. He was very encouraging and proud of you for being willing to take that step.

Sonny talked about how he was seriously considering changing his career. “It just feels like the right time, y’know? I’m just worried I’d be letting everyone down. I mean, what if I suck as a lawyer?”

“Listen to me,” you sat your fork down and grabbed his hand. “You’re not letting anyone down. You’re following your dream. Anyone who loves you knows that and will support you. Whether you’re a cop, a lawyer, or whatever, I’m gonna be here for you. And I’ll love you through it all. Even if you are a sucky lawyer.”

Sonny’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of red, and he tried to turn his head to disguise the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. You reached for his chin and gently turned his face back to give him a sweet kiss. “Through it all,” you reiterated. Your gaze briefly shifted from his face to the living room behind him, something seeming awry. “Did you move the bookcase?”

Sonny wasn’t sure what you were talking about until he remembered the hole in the wall the bookcase was now hiding. “Um…how ‘bout we talk about that tomorrow? I think we’ve had enough excitement for today.”

Well, now your interest was definitely piqued. But he was right. There was no need to solve everything in one day.

Once dishes were put away, you decided to turn in early. To say you were both exhausted was an understatement. Sonny crawled into bed behind you and curled his whole body around you. Arms, legs, and all completely cocooning you.

“Sunshine, I can’t breathe,” you eked out from between his arms.

“Well, I told you I wasn’t letting you get away again,” he nonchalantly replied, tightening his grasp around you. “This is your life, doll. Just accept it.”

You belly laughed so hard you would’ve fallen out of bed if Sonny hadn’t been holding you so tightly. “Oh, I have!” You get out in between your giggles. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to worry about that.”

And he believed you.

“I love you, doll,” he whispered as he kissed your cheek. “More than anything.”

“I love you more,” you quietly answered back.

“Not possible.”

Sonny nuzzled his head into the back of your neck, completely enveloped in the familiar, comforting scent of your hair. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest. The sound of your breathing lulled him to sleep—the best sleep he’d had in months.

You woke up to the sun creeping in through the curtains. You glanced over at your alarm clock to check the time. 9:45. You’d gotten a much-needed good night’s rest. Sonny, too. He was still knocked out beside you, lying on his stomach with his arms sprawled out in every which way. You couldn’t help but stare. His face was so serene. You could almost make out the faintest hint of a smile. It was such a rare sight to see him so peaceful.

Beginning to stir, Sonny rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “Enjoying the view, doll?” He called you out for staring. “Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

Your cheeks turned bright red, and you scooched closer to bury your face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“I think it’s Sunday.” Sonny’s voice was still gravely from sleep. “We’ve got the whole day to ourselves. Whatcha wanna do, sweetheart?”

“Hmmm…” you briefly considered your options. “Well, staying in bed is tempting.”

“I could be convinced of that. That couch sure made me miss this old bed.”

You looked up at him confused. “The couch?”

“Yeah…” He gave you an embarrassed smile. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch the past couple nights.”

“Why would you do that? That couch is at least a foot too short you.”

“Wasn’t the same in here without you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re my home, doll.”

You’d never felt so in love with him as you did in that moment. “And you’re mine.” You brushed back the hair stuck to his forehead and leaned up to kiss him. He tangled one of his hands in your hair as he caressed your back with the other. Home was the best way to describe how you felt.

You were both startled by Sonny’s work phone ringing. Groaning, you rolled away from him. So much for a Sunday in bed. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, getting up to make some coffee for him to take. But he grabbed your arm to stop you. He quickly checked his phone, then dismissed the call and turned it off.

“Don’t you need to answer that?” Sonny always answered his work phone. Night or day, whether he was on the clock or not.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Not my weekend on call. They can figure it out.”

“Sonny, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Pfft, they’re already short-staffed. What’re they gonna do? Fire me?” He poked your side, making you giggle. “Besides, I’ve got much more important things to worry about.”

“Such as?”

“Making sure my girlfriend is suitably cuddled.” He pulled you back onto his chest and wrapped his arms around your waist. It felt so comfortable. You were fighting to stay awake, but the rhythm of his heartbeat was so calming, it was lulling you back to sleep.

“Just close your eyes, doll,” he said as he ran his hand up and down your spine.

“But I haven’t seen you in forever.” You let out a huge yawn. “I feel like if I close my eyes, you’ll disappear.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Just go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

After a few more beats, you did indeed fall back asleep. Sonny studied your face, memorizing each detail. Every wrinkle, every freckle committed to memory. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to get a second chance with you. Completely content with his life, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep, assured he’d have plenty of tomorrows to spend with you.

#oh god she writes now #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x you #sonny carisi imagine #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #svu #masterlist #anti rollisi

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struggling-jpg · 6 hours

Text

Thoughts About the Potential Underlying Hidden Tragedy of Yanqing and Jing Yuan

that isn't just the "Yanqing will have to kill Jing Yuan eventually" red flags.

A relatively longer-ish post so thank you for bearing with me if you choose to do so!

I'd already been thinking about this whole mess of thoughts for a long while now, and so have other people, but the urge to write this came from a comment I saw on a post that mentioned how Yanqing had lost to "Jing Yuan's ghosts" and overall how it contributes to the dynamic of them being mentor/mentee + father/son. While the narrative seems to be leading to "Yanqing having to strike down a Mara-stricken Jing Yuan," there's just enough weird points that stick out to the point some alternative outcomes for Yanqing and Jing Yuan's fates to play out.

And while I anticipate HSR to follow that most expected point, I feel like there's enough there that could lead to a subversion or something more likely than that, an additional twist to the knife alongside the expected point.

Jing Yuan's Flaws as a Mentor and Father-Figure:

While most of us love the family fluff, I'm pretty sure we can all acknowledge the issues in Jing Yuan's approach and decisions in regards to Yanqing. Yeah, this is a fictional space game story where it's likely they aren't going to delve into the consequences of having someone as young as Yanqing be a soldier, there seems to be something there regardless. Like the brushes with death that he has and how we see him have to worry about the Xianzhou's security as a teen due to having a higher position in a military force. This is all set up for more of a coming-of-age type narrative for him, which HSR has done amazingly so far, but there are a lot of chances for this to explore something darker.

Among official media, the one time I could even remember the term "father" being used in relation to Jing Yuan is in Yanqing's official Character Introduction graphic:

Another notable thing that we see here is how we do have moments where Yanqing expresses thoughts and questions about his own origins and birth parents. The fact that even here, he wonders if the general is hiding something from him, sets off some alarm bells in my head. But he then brushes that off because he's always been with the General and Jing Yuan accepts him for who he is (which under the theory that Yanqing originates/is connected to the Abundace adds a whole heavy layer (this will be discussed in a later section)).

Yanqing does something similar in his texts:

As Huaiyan says to Jing Yuan:

"Yanqing can understand your concerns."

Alongside Yanqing generally being a considerate and polite boy, it can possibly be said that his eagerness to share Jing Yuan's burdens not only stems from his own gratitude towards him but possibly also Jing Yuan's distance.

As in, Jing Yuan doesn't really express his feelings so blatantly, and what we can clearly tell from when Yanqing first met "Jing Yuan's ghosts," neither does he speak much about his past too on a personal level. In Jingliu's quest, Yanqing says that Jing Yuan simply told him to forget everything he saw that day.

For Jing Yuan, the loss of the quintet is a grief that feels fresh in his heart, especially with echoes of them running around him. This is in the description for "Animated Short: A Flash":

(Will also talk about this in a different section)

While Yanqing learns about his General's past in a more direct manner (aka the people involved), it's sad how avoidant Jing Yuan is at times. While he's never been a upfront person, especially in the case of solving problems, I wonder if HSR would go as far as to show the negative side of that in terms of raising and teaching Yanqing.

History Repeats Itself (Sometimes It Don't Need A Reason):

+ the Jingliu parallels

Following up on that last image, Jing Yuan, especially in A Flash, has that whole "history repeating itself" thing going on for Jing Yuan. It points to Yanqing having to take down Jing Yuan but it also comes with a lot of its own possibilities and meanings.

It's blatant that Yanqing parallels Jingliu to an unsettling degree. Anyone who personally knows Jingliu and meets Yanqing sees her in him. Jingliu probably sees herself in him as well. Beyond powers and passion for the sword, her Myriad Celestia trailer shows that her principles before getting struck with Mara were the same as his. But it took her losing her dear friends in such a cruel and brutal manner (alongside how long she'd been alive) for all of that to fall out and form the version of her we see today.

And while it seems that Yanqing is deviating from Jingliu's due to the teachings he's learning, especially with Jing Yuan's effort, I feel like there's still a chance for things to go so wrong and mess with that. Yukong's line about him strikes me as concerning:

"A sword will vibrate and beg to be unsheathed if it is unused for too long... Once unsheathed, it will either paint the battlefield in blood, or break itself in the process..."

Even though I don't think HSR will go down a route of tragedy with Yanqing, like say, he gets Mara struck somehow or killed because that's not how Hoyo's writing has fully gone for playable characters (Misha and Gallagher aside in terms of death). Even in the most despairing parts for Hoyo's games, they're usually outlined and tinged with hope in one way or another. It's just that with what's been presented, there's got to be more here than meets the eye.

Yanqing's Origins - The Breaking Point:

From what we've been given, I think the number one thing that would have the potential of shaking Yanqing's entire sense of his life and the reality he lives in is learning where he comes from. Where he actually comes from has been a strange mystery since the beginning, how Jing Yuan getting him being recorded in the military annals of all places.

As shown from the screenshots of Yanqing's texts, he doesn't know and tries to brush it off because he's happy with Jing Yuan now. The choice to have this aspect here leaves a lot to ruminate on. What is Jing Yuan hiding? And if he really is witholding information, does he ever intend to tell Yanqing? If he doesn't and Yanqing finds out, how will it play out? And even if he does mean to tell him, depending on the severity, how will Yanqing take it?

It's why the theory that Yanqing is connected to the Abundance, possibly even coming from it directly, is as harrowing as it is.

With his arc in mind, will his development be enough to sustain him when he does find out the truth? If he finds out sooner than he should, will he be able to rise above it? And what of Jing Yuan? If confronted with a situation that's outside of his control again, what will he do and how will he react?

The potential in that scenario is so fascinating to me, because we can all anticipate the absolute gut punch that Yanqing killing his master would be. It fits Hoyo's writing style of something so sad but having a hopeful end for the future type beat. But the idea of that being twisted, that expectation being flipped on its head, could be so agonizing. It's not a narrative we see too often explored, at least in my experience, so maybe that's why I'm brainrotting over it so much lol.

#honkai star rail #hsr yanqing #jing yuan #hsr theory #character analysis #yanqing losing jing yuan is one thing but jing yuan losing yanqing is another lol #i really don't think hsr would do it like that but it'd be wild if they do #at most they're gonna do something that really fundamentally changes them as people haha #new form yanqing perhaps? haha ha #mara struck or abundance form yanqing would be devastating lolol #struggling jpg thinks

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twinksrepository · 9 hours

Text

A Blissful Stroll

ating: 18+

Pairing: Lucifer X F!Reader

CW: Smut, Possessive, talk of sex, hot tub sex, penis in vaginal sex, creampie, sex with feelings, unintentional voyeurism, naked, slight BDSM talk

Word count: Roughly 4K

A/N: You can't sleep, and run into Mammon and Lucifer while in the world between worlds. Going for a stroll with Lucifer makes the most sense and you get a surprise you weren't expecting.

Also known as Twink thought of this during the Dark Eternal Bliss event and finally got around to writing it. There might also be one with Diavolo in the near future. We'll see.

Images belong to Solmare.

Tossing and turning on the futon you give up on falling asleep, as much as you’re used to sleeping in different places the thin bedding is just a bit too thin for you to drift off to slumberland easily. Carefully pulling your clothes on, trying to keep the noise down since it sounds as if no one else has the same problem as you right now.

When you make it to the street you’re just as careful with the door, letting out a soft sigh as the chill of the night air starts to seep along your bare skin.

Jumping when a warm palm lands on your shoulder and your heart does a double thump, almost screaming at the top of your lungs. Almost. Because after several days here you know it’s someone from your little group of oddballs that just scared the living daylights out of.

“Ah, oops. Didn’t mean ta scare ya like that.” With a hand on your chest, you turn to face Mammon who doesn’t look all that sorry, if anything he looks excited. “Out for a little midnight treasure huntin’ huh? That’s pretty cunnin’ of ya.”

At least now you have an idea why the house was so quiet, it sounds more like he’s the one out for some hunting. Giving your head a shake about to tell him you couldn't sleep, only for a deeper voice to speak for you.

“As if our Little Lamb wouldn’t entertain such frivolous ideas.” Lucifer appears from just inside the house, if you didn’t know any better you’d suspect he heard you getting dressed. “If you can’t sleep, then why not join me for a stroll instead?” He one hundred percent heard you.

“Pfft, lookin’ for riches with me be way more fun.” Letting out a soft chuckle as you smile at the two of them. Both offers of time alone with them are tempting, but running around looking for treasure with Mammon doesn’t sound like it’s going to help you sleep like the stroll will.

“Sorry Mams, maybe next time.” Giving his hand a squeeze in condolences as you pass him to stand beside Lucifer.

“In that case, bestest big bro, you’d better come back before curfew.” You’d laugh at what he says without saying anything. A thinly veiled threat to not keep you out too late, which is rather funny coming from the House of Lamentations resident troublemaker.

“You’re the one most likely to break it. Don’t go causing any trouble.” Sighing with his arms folded across his chest and one of his eyebrows raised.

“Sure, whatever.” Turning on his heels away from the pair of you with his hands raised. “See ya tomorrow, and don’t let him get too handsy.” A parting shot directed at his brother that has you giggling behind your hand while Lucifer just shakes his head at Mammon’s antics.

“Shall we?” Holding out your arm as if offering it to Lucifer, watching a brief roll of his eyes at your antics now. Instead of taking it, he slips his arm under yours so he can intertwin your fingers as he starts guiding you down the street and away from your temporary home.

“It’s almost funny.” His deep voice seems to carry just a bit more in the silent town, you might find it eerie if you weren’t enjoying the warmth seeping from his fingers into yours.

“What is?” Curious as you let Lucifer lead you along the main drag of the empty town, tracing your thumb along his thumb and index finger. It’s uncommon to feel the dry skin normally clad in leather.

“Despite being flung to another world without warning, my brother’s behavior hasn’t changed a bit.” He’s not wrong, if anything the only change you noticed was that underlying worry you all seemed to share about trying to get back home. “I suppose it’s because you’re here with us.”

“Come on, Lucifer.” It’s your turn to shake your head in disbelief even if your face starts to warm. “You guys spent centuries without me, I doubt me being here is making that much of a difference.”

“There you go with the self depreciation again.” Surprised when he comes to a sudden stop near a bridge and uses your hand to get you to turn and face him. Those crimson orbs have that look of admonishment in them once again. “You’ve always been our cornerstone since you arrived in our lives, grounding us through even the most trying situations.” Raising his free hand to slide it against the apple of your cheek, smiling as you unconsciously start to nuzzle into his palm. “I trust that shows how much you mean to everyone.”

“I’m not really sure I’d call myself a cornerstone.” His eyes start to narrow at your low tone and you let out a short chortle of laughter. “Having all of you nearby always makes me feel safe, so maybe it has more to do with that shared feeling. Being a cornerstone feels like a lot of pressure.” Trying to stop him from a lecture about your bad habits.

“It could be.” Agreeing you watch as something in his eyes shifts, something that has your heart beating faster in your chest. “Just remember, you never have to shoulder everything on your own. I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oh?” Grinning now, you tilt your face and reach up to grasp his wrist in your hand, keeping his palm in place as you give the meatier part of his hand just under his thumb the briefest press with your lips. “Do I mean that much to you? Personally? So much that you offer to share whatever burden I have?” Teasing him as you flutter your eyelashes.

Only for Lucifer to surprise you, breaking free from your loose hold and releasing your hand, with a few quick tugs you find yourself with your back against his chest and his arms forming a cage. With the new position you’re on the bridge with his hands resting on the guardrail, both of you looking down at the reflection of the moon on the shifting surface. His breath fanning out across the shell of your ear. “So, you’ve decided to play dumb?” That edge of possessiveness is back in his voice. The one that makes your knees wobble and your throat go dry. “Very well, if you want to hear me say it, I will.”

Guiding his hands from the wooden beam and crossing them over your body, leaning more of his chest along your back until there’s barely any space between the two of you. The tip of his nose ghosting along the shell of your ear, all you can hear is the raspiness of his breathing while you watch the watery reflection of the two of you. His eyes even through the slopped surface are like two burning embers. “I would chase you to the ends of the earth-whether that happens to be the Devildom, the human world, or somewhere else entirely.”

It’s hard not to swallow as he whispers in your ear low enough that your stomach clenches. “No matter where you go, I will be right behind you, ready to drag you back to where you belong. No being, demonic or otherwise, will keep me from you.” As if to punctuate his words his arms tighten, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to reinforce his words. “And don’t you dare forget it.”

Even without the chance of someone walking by the hear him, Lucifer still won’t utter those three words in public. His pride getting in the way even now, but you don’t have the same worry. “I love you too, Lucifer.” Watching his grin grow at your soft words is worth it. Sliding your hands to his arms to get him to loosen his hold on you just enough so you can turn around and face him. “And don’t you forget that.” Shifting your heads so your lips can connect in a tender kiss, one that doesn’t last yet is still laced with emotions.

You lose track of time for how long the two of you stand like that, it’s only when you start to shiver that Lucifer creates some space. “Come along, let’s finish our stroll.” Staying close to you as if to ward off the chill, and after a few minutes it feels like he’s guiding you somewhere.

“Lucifer?” Trying to keep your tone even. “Are you taking me somewhere?”

“A surprise.” Taking another turn before stopping in front of a building that has two entrances. “I found it earlier today.”

“Did you seriously find a bathhouse?” Oh, how Asmodeus would have killed to be here soaking in the water.

“Better.” Thoughts of his brother leave your head as he leads you through the door on one side and back towards the changing area which he skips in it’s entirety. Stopping when he reaches the pool of water, steam rising from the slightly murky surface.

“Ok.” You admit with a laugh. “This is better.” Leaning in to kiss the side of his cheek. “But not better than your declaration on the bridge.” Sporting one of those rare happy Lucifer grins he joins you in a short round of laughter.

“I thought this might help you relax and sleep.” Starting to remove his clothes and folding them to form a neat pile just under the edge of the overhang of the building. As much as you’d like to just stand there and watch him to enjoy the show you’d rather just join him. Plus the idea of the warm water surrounding your skin sounds heavenly right now.

Lucifer doesn’t take as long as you do, stopping to help you disrobe before taking your hand and helping you down the slick stones. Letting out a sigh of relief as the heat started to seep into your skin right away, and you settled in next to him. “I might have been wrong.” Pausing as he raises one of his eyebrows at you quizzically. “This might be better than you admitting you’d chase after me.”

A short splash of water is sent your way as he feigns annoyance, it doesn’t last as he curls his arm around the small of your back to tug you closer so your sides are touching. “You truly enjoy trying my patience.”

“You like having someone keeping you on your toes while not causing trouble.” Letting out a soft snort while letting your head lean against his shoulder, sinking more into the warm water.

“The fact you think you don’t cause me trouble is audacious.” Feeling his exhale along the top of your forehead before he places his lips there. “The number of times you’re the instigator instead of one of my brothers is laughable.” His voice was tender and you didn’t miss the feeling of him smiling against your skin.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Lifting your hand from the water to rest your palm atop his chest while curling your other hand under the gap between his back and the rock wall.

“You don’t allow me much choice, Lamb.” You let that statement hang in the air, far more interested in the heat seeping along your skin and into the muscles of your back that were sore from the thinner material that served as your bed.

It’s nice, just sitting there with Lucifer as his fingers trail along your side under the water a random pattern only he knows etched into your skin. Listening to the swaying of the tree branches in the wind and the sound of his slow breathing. “A bottle of Demonus, a record player, and a cursed record to listen to, this place might feel like home.”

“Demonus?” Chuckling as he tilts his head more to the side, allowing him better access to the skin of your forehead. “It’s nice of you to think of my preference, however, why do I get the feeling you’d rather a bottle to get me drunk?” His hand slides lower to grip your hip as he whispers his question.

“I was just thinking of it because you enjoy it.” Craning your neck back so you can look into his eyes, internally grinning at the hint of lust in that adoring gaze. “But now that you’ve brought it up, you are more…” Trailing off as you try to think of the right word.

“Easily taken advantage of?” Chuckling the words himself while you shake your head in the negative.

“Submissive.” One of those black eyebrows of his raising as if he can’t believe that’s what you went with. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” Giving his butt a quick squeeze under the water. “I mean you’re more likely to let me have the reins instead of just railing me with you doing all the work. You don’t often give me control.”

“That’s because half the time you get flustered and don’t know what to do.” Feeling the tips of your ears warm, he’s got you there.

“I’m trying to learn! I’m just…” Trailing off again as your voice lowers until the final words are a whisper. “Not used to that kind of stuff.” By stuff you mean all the ropes and whips he likes to use, vanilla sex, and a few kinks? You’re good. But tying Lucifer up and edging him until he’s a panting whining mess wanting you to degrade about being forced him to cum on his own stomach instead of inside you?

Yea, you weren’t quite all that confident at that yet.

As in the farthest you’d gotten was the second denied orgasm and him making a noise you thought was pain and you having to use the safe word because you couldn’t handle the idea of hurting him. He’s never been upset with you not being able to dominate him as your relationship progressed to the point where he wanted you to be in control, a role he so rarely relinquished. But you had this lingering feeling every time after that he was disappointed.

“You’ll get there my love.” Closing the distance to seal his lips over yours for a quick passionate kiss. “Perhaps we need to work on your skills at the less intense levels more.” Letting out a yelp as you’re quickly scooped up and deposited so you’re straddling his legs while he leans back against the rock wall, your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. “Tell me what you want, Master.”

That one word took you from relaxed to aroused in three point five seconds, the amount of time it took for your brain to catch up to what he meant. Your face feels like an inferno as you look down at the water instead of his face. “I swear when you say that Lucifer.” Groaning before you catch his eyes again. “You’re trying to get me all worked up.”

“If it gets the job done.” Sporting a grin that would look less out of place on his demonic form with his horns. “Now, tell me what you want.” If you’re supposed to be in control he isn’t acting like it with that command in his voice, it doesn’t stop the throbbing in your core either.

“I um…” Your brain is reeling, because you honestly thought he’d tell you just to ride him and the two of you would work on your dirty talk. Not this. The briefest downturn of his eyes and your mouth moves. “I want you to fuck me, like this.” Lowering your hips so more of your weight settles on his hips. “I’m just going to sit here and watch that handsome face of yours while you pleasure me with your cock.” Swallowing at the outburst as your face feels like actual flames are licking your skin.

A short boom of laughter from the demon under you before he licks his lips. “As you command, Master.” Fuck. His voice dropping down into a husky rasp and you’re certain if you weren’t around surrounded by water your thighs would have still been just as drenched. A small moan escapes your lips as he slips one of his hands between your bodies and brushes his fingers along your folds.

“I said your cock, not your fingers.” There’s no force behind the words as you bite your lips, but the second of admonishment on his face is worth it before that grin returns.

“I just wanted to make sure you were relaxed, Master. I won’t make the same assumption again.” You know he was checking to see if you were already loose enough for him, but tonight you want to feel the burn when he stretches your insides to accommodate him. Another adjustment, and this time you feel the tip of his dick sliding between the skin of your sex. You have no idea how long he’s been hard for but you don’t care, already letting out a string of soft noises of pleasure from the fat head spreading you and bumping into your clit.

“Lucifer~” Sighing his name your hips give a small jerk, chasing that delectable feeling of his cock. Licking your upper lip as you try to regain control of your hips, even if you just want to sink down until he’s deep inside your cunt. “I want you inside me.”

Using his hand to guide his length inside your tight walls, lifting his hips to gently spread you open. You let out a whine, feeling the pressure inside of you build from each inch of him that forces your body to accept him. Glancing at his face you notice the way he’s biting the corner of his lip, one of his longer canines peeking out.

It’s hot.

Add in the way his eyes are lidded and cast downward to the murky water as if he can see the way your slit stretches to accommodate his dick? You’re ready to cum just from that.

“You’re so tight.” Panting through his teeth as he lifts his hips, shallowly thrusting up into you at a steady pace. Both of his hands are on your hips now to keep you from bouncing around since you told him to do all the work, the tips of your fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure is starting to make you feel hazy. “Have I not been giving you enough attention lately? Not been seeing to your wants and needs?”

“No.” Whining you slide your hands higher along his neck. “It’s from stress.” Lucifer has been anything but a slouch when it comes to your needs, he might be a busy demon but he can usually find time to make you scream his name. Or moan around his length from under his desk.

“Then just relax, I’ll bring you all the pleasure you could want.” Starting to buck his hips faster now, churning your insides fast enough to have that coil inside of you drawing tighter and tighter. Your walls spasm more and more around his length as if trying to keep him from leaving your body.

“Lucifer” Panting his name as you drop your forehead to his, your bodies closer changing the angle of how he’s slamming into you. His cock drags along the upper portion of your cunt, and once in a while the dark hairs around his base brush against your clit making your lungs shutter. You’re so close. “Kiss me.”

Shifting his head back while keeping the connection against your temple, a tentative brush of his lips before he’s moving them with a ferocity against yours that leaves you moaning. Sliding your tongue out to deepen the kiss, almost swooning and cuming on his cock then and there when he mirrors your actions.

He’s like a drug you can never get enough of.

Your hands are no longer on his shoulders but gripping the strands of his hair as he bucks his hips faster. The sound of water sloshing around your bodies and against the rocks reaches your ears. Belatedly realizing you aren’t keeping still anymore, rolling your hips in time to his upward thrusts.

One of his hands is pressed to the center of your back, keeping you close to him, your nipples rubbing against the firm muscles of his chest adding to the stimulation assaulting your senses. Panting and whining into his mouth the pleasure racing through you becomes too much, moaning his name into his mouth as you freeze, lost your orgasm.

Lucifer doesn’t stop when your pussy starts to squeeze him like a vice, still bucking up into you as he breaks the kiss. Letting your head fall forward to land on his shoulder, he’s so close. “Just breathe Lamb, just breathe. I’m almost there.” His breathing rapid, and the tendons along his neck strained. You feel amazing in your post orgasm slump, all thoughts of letting you boss him around to grow more comfortable gone, replaced by the growing need to empty himself inside you.

He won’t admit it, not even to you, but the idea of these forced marriages have had him on edge for the past few days. Worried what would happen if you were ever forced into something like that. Worried how he, his brothers, Diavolo, and the others would react to you being forced from their sides. It wouldn’t end well.

So when he heard you stirring earlier, the idea came to him to take you here. At first, it had just been to relax and unwind, to remind himself you weren’t going anywhere. But the longer you sat beside him in the warm water, the more he wanted to feel you. To watch you come undone for him.

And you have.

“Lucifer?” Moaning his name as you come back to your senses, your head bouncing on his shoulder as he keeps moving.

“Almost there.” Hissed through his teeth before he throws back his head as he slams you down onto his hips. A loud groan that sounded a lot like your name as you felt him cuming inside you, a burning deep in your core from his spent seed. Watching the hammering of his heartbeat in his neck with his eyes closed as he gives a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim before he stops seated deep inside your walls.

“Damn.” Letting out a tired laugh as you drag your hands out of his hair and trail yours fingers down the pale column of his throat to his collarbones. Ghosting over the sweat slicked skin. “I don’t think you’ve given me a load that big in a while.”

“You haven’t felt that tight in a while.” Muttering the words as he breaths through his nose trying to calm his racing heart before opening his eyes. Leaning in for a quick kiss that borders on tender. “Calling you master does something for me as well.” Admitting as he slides forward so more of him, and you since you’re still attached, is under the water. “Maybe we should get a hot tub for the House of Lamentation.” Sighing the words as he relaxes and you let out a soft giggle.

“Not if that’s what the two of ya are gonna do in it.” Screaming in surprise and wrapping your arms around Lucifer to try and hide your naked skin. “Didn’t I tell ya not ta let em’ get too handsy!”

“Mammon!” Snarling his brothers' name as he appears. You’re very much in the same boat as Lucifer right now, partly pissed at being interrupted, partly embarrassed at being found naked with him balls deep in your tender sex.

So much for a round two that you were hoping for.

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