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beardedalcoholic · 29 days

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Memories of a Soul

Galgac couldn’t believe his luck.

He cursed the circumstances but promised himself he would make the most of it. For a space faring species like himself this was possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity for not only himself but his race and the galactic community as a whole.

A human was dying, an actual human! The tiny gods that ascended to the stars upon pillars of flame and madness, the seemingly unstoppable tide of warriors risen from their garden world of death.

Over a hundred cycles had passed since they took to the galactic scene and in that time, they had started as many wars as they had stopped and brought a level of culture unseen beforehand.

Wars between worlds that had been raging beyond the memory of those involved had been quelled by their words and ideas, while oppressive regimes and entire governments had been toppled from their previously unreachable heights.

With a standard lifespan many times that of their space sailing counterparts it was not unheard of for a human to be entrusted with knowledge, items, messages or words of wisdom for later generations.

Added onto this seemingly impossible life span it was well known that humans simply did not accept death. Injuries that would kill many other species were more of an inconvenience to the humans, some looked at the loss of limbs and organs as a challenge to come back from and try again while others used their story as a way to teach and warn future generations of miniature titans.

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For a species known for being able to dive deep into the psyche of practically any and all species, humans were like forbidden treasure troves of knowledge and wisdom: firsthand experience of historical events, important conversations, debated actions of who did what? and why?

All of this information and more could usually be found in the mind of a human…of course there was only the small matter of GETTING the information.

Human minds were said to be nigh impenetrable to all but the cleverest of infiltrators and even then, it was said once you got in there was no telling what you would, or could find. Human mental defenses were said to range from endless labyrinths that constantly changed their configuration to impossible creatures from the humans’ imagination.

To be invited to meet a human was a great honor, to meet one dying of old age was thought among some to be impossible as many species still believed them immortal. To not only be allowed to enter the human’s mind, but to be invited to do so was almost too incredible to believe.

“You’re Galtakal’s kid aren’t you?” The raspy voice from the bed snapped Galgac out of his mental musings.

Following the voice to its source on the hospital bed Galgac focused on the human, thin hair the color of silver, skin wrinkled and spotted with age unheard of among most species, muscles that at one time could bend Taraxian steel and break Fomotian carapace lay withered and atrophied as mere shadows of their former glory.

Lines creased the human’s face telling of cycles beyond measure spent smiling and laughing…as well as snarling and frowning…the stories this human’s physical self could tell alone were staggering. The eyes though were what nearly stole Galgac’s breath…blue like a clear warmth cycle with not a cloud in sight, yet still sharp as a mono-molecular blade…age may have robbed this human of his physical might, but even time could not seem to dull the mind of this once legendary creature.

“Y-yes, um yes sir, Galtakal was my sire…how could you know that…sir?” The human laughed quietly to himself before he answered.

“The bio-luminescent spots on your face, they are almost exactly like your fathers’ spots…you carry yourself the same as well…arrogance like none other, well deserved and justifiable no doubt, but still I want to punch you in the face just like the first time I met your father. I miss him you know, he deserved a better death than what he got…self-sacrificing prick left you a message by the way, I imagine you will find it at some point.” Galgac was speechless…this human had known his sire, it sounded like they knew each other personally even.

Walking forward Galgac reached out to the human and laid his webbed digits within the human’s grip, barely restrained strength still coursing through the powerful muscles and bones even in his advanced age. With a feeling not unlike having his brain liquified and then vacuumed through a long tube Galgac slid his awareness down his arm and into the human before him.

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Galgac found himself on a battlefield on a planet he had never been to, human atmospheric air fighters...jets they called them...screamed overhead with the battle cries of war maddened harbingers of an apocalypse.

Bullets split the air with sonic booms and whizzed like furious insects while lasers and bolts of superheated plasma melted armor...bombs went off far away, no...closer...to close!

Galgac found himself picked up by an ethereal giant and slammed down on his back, surely such an impact just broke his entire back plate and probably a few organs were going to be bleeding...no, he was getting back up...how was he getting back u-

*OOF!*

Suddenly a body slammed into him just before a searing line of plasma wrent the air where his head had been seconds before.

Looking towards the figure that had just slammed him back into the ground, and saved his life in no uncertain terms, Galgac was shocked…

“Father?” The face looking at him was much younger, but it was unmistakably the face of his sire.

“Are you injured human? Can you still fight?” Galgac nearly lost the connection to the humans’ mind with the flood of emotions that came with that question.

A figure blocked the unknown planet’s sun, a long blade raised to strike the both of them in a single blow. With unfamiliar muscles and reactions that superseded conscious thought Galgac wrapped his father with arms that felt as though they could crush the seemingly fragile body within their grasp to a pulp and rolled to the side until he was looking down upon his father from a reversed position of their previous one.

Adrenalin surged, muscles tensed, nerves fired like atomic engines and Galgac felt his new and unfamiliar body sing with a power he had never known...he wanted to run, he wanted to mate, he wanted to fight, oh how he wanted to fight, to strike down the enemy and scream his power to the skies of this alien world in defiance of all attempts to defeat him.

Surging to his feet and drawing the combat vibra-blade from his shoulder sheath Galgac spun to engage the enemy, only for the visage of the human from the hospital bed to appear, grab him by the throat and lift him up and out of his new body.

“Sorry about that, Galtakal told me that might happen but I didn’t really think about it until a few seconds ago...I guess the thoughts of your father got me thinking about the first time we met. He saved my life you know, I saved his in return a few seconds later but that was irrelevant…”

Galgac tried to focus on what was his and what was memory, the feeling of being human for just those few seconds was intoxicating.

The power contained in the limbs, seeing the world in spectrums of color and depth so vastly different than his own, senses all on fire from the bloodlust of battle sending him so much information about his surroundings. He was amazed the humans could possibly process it all...and there, in front of him he saw the human whose mind he was now intruding upon, watching his past self and Galgac’s sire fight side by side.

Like two dancers they spun around each other...no... the human ducked and wove like a zephyr of cutting wind around his sire, slicing with his blade and drawing blood with every strike while his sire would spin in place from one target to the next, expertly placing blaster rounds through vital points.

Seeing his sire like this was...jarring to say the least, for so long he had known him as a peace loving and quiet individual. Seeing one of his progenitors as a whirling dervish of war and death seemingly moving in time with a human was...well he would have to explore those thoughts later, for now he had years of memories to view.

“Come on lad, let me show you around a bit.” Hearing the voice of the human whose mind he was intruding upon just before a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder gave him just enough time to brace himself. The world around them seemed to blur and melt into a confusing wash of colors before seeming to solidify into a new scene, thankfully less chaotic.

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Looking around, Galgac realized he was on a ship...by the markings upon the bulkheads it was... yes, the UGF Predatory Might, the first ship designed by humans and built by the Unified Galactic Federation.

Seeing the human begin walking down the hall Galgac followed him and did his best to pay attention to everything at once, this was a ship not often seen by non-humans and even then, it was only really sent for one of two reasons...War and Relief.

This ship alone contained enough armaments to send most smaller celestial bodies spinning into a star while also boasting one of the most advanced medical facilities in the known universe. Walking along the hallways of the ship Galgac could only marvel at what he saw, humans walking to and fro with some running and dodging around their counterparts with grace unseen in most species and others casually reading various reports and updates on tablets while simultaneously avoiding collision with those around them.

“Ya know I never did figure out how they did that...just dodge around everyone without looking up from reading and still be able to comprehend what they were looking at.” Spinning to look at the human, Galgac felt his luminescent markings begin to glow brighter...this human was not JUST a human as he had been led to believe...this was…

“B-b-battle Master Alventar…” This was one of the most highly decorated humans in recent history, he had personally led more successful war efforts than any other human on record and who had planned an almost incalculable amount of side missions, some of which wouldn’t be released for at least a century AFTER his death.

“Yes yes...that was one of my titles, did they not tell you who I used to be? Ah well, no matter, come let me show you why we are here.” With an easy smile and almost eager stride the Battle Master continued on down the hall. Following quickly Galgac whipped his head around enough that if he was in a physical body his neck would be getting sore. “Here it is lad…” Battle Master Alventar said ahead of him as he slid through a door and then looked through a window, his voice was oddly low and almost reverently anticipatory. Catching up to the human Galgac gazed at him and noted the strange look upon his face.

A small smile graced the human’s face, coupled with the simple light of joy in his eyes seemed to shed decades from his visage.

Seeing him pressed up against the glass like a child caused Galgac to gaze in slight wonder...this human was one of the most brilliant battle minds of the known galaxy, he had seen more battle than most battalions and had been in command longer than Galgac had been alive, what could possibly be beyond that glass to make him act this way?

Turning from the Battle Master, Galgac gazed through the glass and was slightly taken aback...he actually had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, one of the figures within the room was a much younger version of the human standing next to him.

Standing within the room was a mid-thirties Alventar standing next to a rather large woman, her stomach vastly bloated out, disproportionate to what the rest of her body would suggest would be normal. She should have looked like a slim, mocha skinned, dark-haired goddess of a woman but instead she was a rather large, round, goddess of a woman. Skin flushed with exertion and gleaming with sweat the young woman’s face was screwed tight with pain, breaths coming in short pants and gasps.

“What um...what am I looking at Battle Master...why are we here?” Galgac asked softly.

“This is one of the most momentous days of my life… I tell you now lad, I have seen stars collapse and die, I have seen battlefields strewn with bodies uncounted and I have witnessed entire planets and civilizations reduced to dust but right here...this moment...this is when I witnessed the greatest miracle to grace this universe…the act of bringing LIFE into the world…” The look on the Battle Master’s face was one of tearful joy beyond anything Galgac could relate to.

Feeling the psychic resonance between them Galgac was soon swept up in a wash of golden joy beyond anything he could have ever conceived. The feeling that flooded his entire mental being was enough to bring him to tears at the simple and expansive joy of it, vitality and warmth flooded down his limbs and seemed to invigorate his muscles and nerves until they were singing like a solar storm.

“She’s here...my Star Queen…” The Battle Master spoke in a low voice usually reserved for quiet temples and altars. With a voice like he was invoking an ancient goddess’s name the Battle Master pressed himself harder against the glass and continued to speak.

“She was always the best thing I had ever done, my greatest accomplishment and most beautiful achievement…” Galgac reluctantly shook himself of the golden feelings and gazed within the room, there laying on the bed was the dark-haired woman holding a small bundle of blankets to her chest.

Looking closer Galgac could see the small figure of a human baby swaddled in the blanket, it seemed to be rather upset at its current situation as it was apparently crying.

“I am afraid I do not understand...it is merely a child, there are many of them and they all seem to look like that when they are born…” In later years Galgac would learn how close he came to getting a royal ass whooping right then and that the look on the Battle Master’s face was not one of deep confusion but rather murderous incredulity.

“I have left entire continents barren and choked with death, I have orchestrated missions that toppled governments and overthrew tyrants across more star systems than I can remember but right there, in that room is the first woman to see me for more than the battle scars and nightmares. In her arms is the first time I have ever been associated with life...she is my greatest achievement because she is the result of a true partnership, a battle pair, life mates and soul bonds. That little girl in there has the beauty, strength, mind and absolute power of her mother….and I guess my eyes along with some other stuff…”

Looking into the room once more Glagac observed the interactions of the mother and child, how when the Battle Master was introduced he seemed to show a level of care and gentleness not usually seen in his species of near immortal battle fanatics.

Watching the three of them, two elders and a newborn, Galgac saw how they instinctively covered the babe with their bodies from threats unknown, how they both glared at any medical professional that dared approach them even if for no more than a heartbeat.

These were new parents and they would scorch all of creation if it meant their child was safe. The Golden sense of unparalleled joy was soon suffusing him as he opened himself to the psychic resonance again, except this time it was tempered and sheathed in a layer of Steel resolve. Galgac found himself almost overwhelmed at the sheer power behind these two humans’ determination that nothing would harm the child they brought into this world.

The feeling of a hand landing solidly upon his shoulder caused Galgac to jump slightly. Whipping his head to the side he saw the Battle Master looking at him with an expression of profound sadness somehow mixed with un-ending joy.

“Time to go lad...There is no way for me to ever repay you for this gift. You have allowed me to witness the birth of my firstborn once more, the birth of the Brightest Star in my Skies and it is something I never thought I would ever be able to experience again outside of my hazy memories.” Turning away from Galgac the Battle Master made his way to the infirmary door that opened onto a completely different world.

“Well? You wanted to see my memories right?” Shaking himself of the lingering golden affects that the birth of his daughter caused, Galgac hurried to the new door and the memory that lay beyond.

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Walking out of another memory Galgac was giving a new definition to the term disoriented, his head was spinning from the sheer amount of LIFE this single human had experienced. In the last few heartbeats Galgac had experienced events and conversations that could topple at least two governments and probably allow him to black mail an entire planet and that was before the sheer amount of training and battle this man had seen.

“I...I had no idea…” Words did not easily surface in the hurricane of his mind after seeing what he had just witnessed.

“I know right? Who would have thought your old man was such a badass! I still have no idea where he got a donkey, a ladder, three cases of genuine earth tequila and five pounds of C-4...but that had to be the best bachelor party Calament IV has ever seen.” Finishing this statement with a hearty laugh and missing Galgac’s response that he could have told the man how much of a badass his dad was, the two of them looked around at their newest setting.

Cheers and applause assaulted Galgac’s auditory receptors like a rogue wave upon a beach. Lights flashed and a sun much harsher than his world’s own glared at him from above. A gentle breeze was the only respite Galgac received from the sudden change in settings, this was one of the things he hated the most about going through another being’s memories: having to experience their life through what they remembered. The day could have been ten degrees cooler and the wind even stronger but if the human didn't remember it that way then Galgac sure wasn’t going to experience it that way.

“Ughh...I was really hoping to never have to relive this day, I guess it makes sense to go from some of the best days of my life to one of the worst…still sucks though.” Galgac looked to his side after he acclimated to the harsh environment and was shocked once more.

Standing beside him was the Battle Master, but much diminished from his previous gravitas.

Mid to late twenties at best, he almost looked like a child playing dress up. Fresh faced and with coal black hair he stood there in his dress uniform, creases on his pants crisp enough to slice fruit, shirt fitted perfectly and starched to within an inch of its life. He looked every inch the perfect young military tactician...except the eyes. The usually deep pools of light blue were now frozen over and shallow, the sight sent a shiver down Galgac’s short spine.

“This was the day...the day I received the most painful reminder of my actions, the day that started my worst nightmares.” In a moment of dissonance he had not experienced before Galgac watched as the Battle Master seemed to step out of himself.

With one vision walking forward to the call of his name and the other standing there as solid as a Column of Reality Galgac watched as the Head of the United Galactic Federation gave a short speech and proceeded to pin a shining medal to the Battle Master’s chest.

“Yes...a medal and speech about peace after one of the greatest instances of near xenocide in my species history. I was to be lauded and seen as a hero of war after making the final decision to nearly annihilate an entire race.”

The only warning Galgac had that something was going to change was the cold feeling of despair sliding through his veins like mercury right before the sunny day and gentle breeze blurred, running like water colors before Galgac’s eyes until he was standing upon the command deck of the UGF Last Resort, the most powerful warship in history.

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“I ask you again Emperor, surrender for the sake of your future, for the sake of your planet and people!”

Captain Alventar pleaded across the vid screen to the enemy ruler. Pouring every ounce of desperation and desire for a peaceful outcome he could into his voice the captain leant over his console. Around him were men and women years into their fields of study and profession and all of them remained still over their stations as they awaited the final word from their Commanding Officer. The air was thick with tension and not a single member of the bridge crew dared even breathe too loudly as they awaited the reply from the Alanshel Emperor.

“We will never surrender human.” The voice came over the translator in a vile hiss of contempt.

“The Alanshel empire will take our rightful place as rulers of this galaxy and we will subjugate all those that resist us!” It was only by the feeling of frustrated embers squirming across his skin like writhing eels that told Galgac what Captain Alventar was truly thinking, even more so when the embers cooled and became like shards of metal slowly sinking down to drive themselves into his very bones.

“I was afraid you would say that...Just remember that you brought this upon yourself...and may your Gods visit mercy upon your decision, for we will show none.” Galgac watched as the young captain stood up from his command console and seemed to simultaneously collapse and grow in presence.

Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine with a sharp inhale the Battle Master stood there with his eyes closed as if steeling himself. With smooth, almost dreamlike movements the newly born Battle Master reached forward and flipped the cover off a deceptively small but violently red button.

“Let the record show all attempts were made to reach a peaceful solution...and all attempts failed...By the power and responsibility invested in my position as Captain of the UGF Last Resort and Leader of the Battle Fleet Armada, I am hereby calling a fleet wide orbital bombardment...all ships fire at will.”

That was all it took, pressing a small red button and the world seemed to turn in on itself for Galgac. The entire ship rocked and shuddered as its most powerful munitions were unleashed upon the world below. Across the view screens similar scenes played out from different angles...battle cruisers and warships ejecting massive payloads of death upon the planet below them.

Galgac watched in awe as the planet lit up like small suns were suddenly birthed upon its surface. Looking around the Control Center he noticed almost everyone had either looked away or closed their eyes not wanting to witness the destruction being wrought beneath them...but not the Captain, not the Battle Master.

Standing there in front of the poly-carbide windows of the Control Center the Captain stood with his arms clasped behind his back, shoulders rigid and legs straight...he would not watch what he had done on a screen when he could witness it firsthand. Galgac approached the Captain, the young Battle Master, and was shocked at what he saw...tears.

Tears were streaming silently down the Captain’s face as he looked down on the world he had just condemned to fire. His breathing was slow and steady, face seemingly carved in stone, shoulders and back locked in place as if he would defy the very laws of the universe to bend him from his stance. Yet his collar began to show signs of the tears soaking it and small plops rang like bells in the near silence as they fell to the floor.

It was in that moment Galgac felt he began to understand, the decision to burn the world below him had elevated The Captain to his position of Battle Master and in doing so had carved irreparable scars into his soul. With every tear that fell from the Battle Master’s eye, with every new blast that lit up the world beneath them Galgac felt a new wound upon his very soul, a new scar freshly made.

“Two billion, seven hundred and forty-three million dead in the first ten minutes of the barrage...by the calculations.” The voice that came from behind him was supposed to be the Battle Master, but it was hollow and dead as a tree left to die of disease. Turning away from the broken face of the newly minted Battle Master and ignoring the roiling flames and embers of the planet below them Galgac looked to the human whose mind he was currently walking through. Eyes like chips of ice, face hewn of stone and stance like a mountain enduring a hurricane, the True Battle Master stood there, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked down at the planet. The feeling that radiated from this pillar of strength was that of a human forged in battle, a cold breeze from Galgac’s homeworld at the turning of the seasons, soothingly cold and bracing but with the slightest change and without warning it could become sharp enough to slice to the bone.

“We will never know exactly how many died in the attack...never know how many were condemned to death by my actions, my failure to negotiate peace. I have been told by the best shrinks, negotiation experts, politicians, therapists etc etc that there was nothing I could have done. I have seen the reports, the statistical analysis and every piece of data we could possibly have of the war before, during and after this moment...it doesn’t help. I can hear them you know…” At this point Galgac thought he might be able to hear ‘them’...whoever ‘They’ were.

“I can hear them in my dreams...in my moments of weakness. I can hear the screams and cries of those that are burning down there right now. I can hear the ones that were on the edge and that survived the initial blasts. I can hear the ones that looked up to the skies that day and screamed as they gazed upon judgment being passed upon them. I was Judge, Jury and Executioner that day and I have never been able to tell myself otherwise.”

It was probably a trick of the memory but Galgac was certain the fires of the planet burned brighter and fiercer in the eyes of the True Battle Master for just an instant. The feeling of a turning season’s breeze faded only to be replaced by the feeling of a crushing weight placed upon him, as if chains forged in the fires of a dying planet were wrapping themselves around him.

Galgac was about to ask a question on what he was talking about when he felt a shift ...it was subtle but in no way insignificant. There was a weight behind this shift in the memory that defied the understanding of a mere mortal. Looking around himself Galgac noticed that things were becoming...wrong.

Corners had too many angles...distances were infinitely far away and yet too close to comprehend. Walls were suddenly as solid as time and yet as fluid as thought, gravity became nothing more than a concept as he slammed to the deck of the Command Center with all the power of a star falling from the heavens and yet landing like a feather.

“What...what is happening!?” Galgac asked as he picked himself up from the floor. Looking over to the Battle Master he was surprised to see a look of curious anticipation upon his face.

“Have you ever done this memory walk thing with someone who was dying? Ever heard of anyone who had?” The Battle Master asked with a sense of calm that seemed to spread to the surroundings.

The world seemed to solidify around them and once more Galgac was looking at nothing more than the memory of the ship’s interior. Looking back to the Battle Master, Galgac saw that he had begun walking down the main corridor towards engineering. Hurrying after the human Galgac cast one last look back to the planet as it burned beneath them under the continued barrage of the Fleet Armada.

In the time it took Galgac to turn his head back to the front they were passing through the galley, by the time he comprehended this fact they had stepped through the security door to engineering, before Galgac could even begin to think of the reason they had traveled so far, he found himself standing in front of a door covered in a variety of signs denoting hazardous levels of radiation beyond the door.

The air was heated as if they were in a sauna and hummed with barely contained power. Noticing the signs posted around them and seeing the various gauges on display Galgac realized they were next to the main reactor.

“The heart of the ship…” The voice from the Battle Master was almost reverent as he gazed at the door to the reactor chamber.

Walking as if in a dream the Battle Master stepped forward and opened the door before Galgac could stop him. Now Galgac had never been inside a reactor chamber but he was pretty sure it didn’t have such a bright light on the other side of the door.

Seeing the human silhouetted before him in a light so bright it should have hurt his eyes Galgac wanted to look away but found that he couldn’t. This could be some kind of new memory and he had to bear witness to it. A feeling like the very depths of the void between stars slowly began tracing over Galgac’s skin, cold beyond anything he could ever comprehend, tracing lines of dancing non-feeling across his entire being...down to his very soul.

“No Son, not that is not for you to see.”

A voice he had not thought he would ever hear again sounded in his ear just before a hand on his shoulder spun him around. Feeling himself wrapped in arms as familiar as they were comforting Galgac found he couldn’t speak past the raw feelings he was being bombarded with. Desperate yearning for something he had never had or experienced, a deep and ever-growing abyss of loneliness that promised to be relieved just beyond that light. Cold beyond anything he could ever understand battled with a warmth he could never forget while crushing solitude warred against familial companionship. “Father…”

The word was barely able to choke itself past the feelings he was trying to make sense of, Galgac drew upon the second-hand memory of a human’s power and will in order to wrap his own arms around the figure before him.

The form was smaller than he remembered, or he was bigger...regardless it was no less powerful than his last memory of it. He had always marveled at his father’s presence, the strength in his figure and weight of his gaze...now he knew, he understood what it was. His father had walked through the fires of a human’s mind and life and come out stronger for it and now it was his turn.

“Easy boy...I knew you would find yourself here one day, unfortunately this is all I can do for you. You mustn't look lad, that is not something for you to gaze upon.” The voice of his father was enough to bring tears of painful loss and joyous memory to Galgac’s eyes.

“What is it father, what is that light?” Galgac buried his face in his father’s broad shoulder in the same way he had as a youngling when he had accidentally viewed someone's mind and been scared of what he saw.

“It is the fire at the beginning and end of time, the edge of eternity and beginning of nothing...it is everyone's final destination.” Feeling his father raise his own head and hearing him speak again Galgac could tell he wasn’t the one his father was speaking to.

“Go ahead John, I’ll see you on the other side. I saved you a seat and a glass of whiskey just like you asked.”

“Thanks Gal, I’ll be seeing you soon...you got a good kid there you know.” It was probably just the strange feelings he was enduring but Galgac could almost swear he heard tears in the Battle Master’s voice.

“Yeah I know...he is pretty awesome, just like I told you all those times. As for you Son, it’s time for you to leave.” And indeed it seemed as if that would be the best plan of action as the world around him seemed to become less and less real with every failing heartbeat that now rang throughout the mental construct.

“Tell your mother I miss her and that there are so many goddesses in the afterlife I may have to lower my standards for one of them.”

Galgac gave a choked laugh at the stupid joke his parents always seemed to have...how his father could never bring himself to betray his mother because even if a goddess descended before him, she could never hope to live up to his mother’s beauty and sharp wit.

“HA...hehe…she is going to kick your teeth in when she catches up to you, you know that right.” He didn’t care that he was talking to a mental construct of a father that had died months ago...short by human standards but long enough to dull the pain for many other species.

“Yeah I know...well she has to catch me first. Farewell Son, it was good seeing you again.”

With those final words Galgac found himself surrounded by a crushing black void and the overwhelming sense of something staring at him. Something older than even humans could comprehend, something that was interested in him only as a future project or a topic to come back to in a casual conversation. Trying desperately to remember how to release himself from another’s mind, Galgac was just about to panic when he felt as much as heard a voice that would speak to him in his dreams and nightmares for years to come.

‘Not yet...’

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With a jerking start Galgac’s eyes snapped open and it was only after a few seconds that he could understand what he was seeing.

An off-white ceiling, meaning he was probably on his back...the soft cushion beneath him confirmed his current position. Turning his head Galgac realized the ringing in his ears was not in his head but rather the life signs indicator attached to the Battle Master.

“Do not bother…” The voice seemed to come from a great distance.

“The Battle Master has passed from this life and is enjoying his final peace.”

Oh...that was his voice...yes it was...closing his eyes Galgac began the process of reacquainting his mind with his physical body. A body he had been born with but had spent less than his full life-span within, a body that had tasted the power, ferocity and sheer depth of a human’s mind. Doing his best to ignore the sounds of the doctors trying to revive the great man one bed over Galgac forcibly relaxed into the cushion and did his best to bring order to his mind and body...and to come to peace with seeing his father one last time.

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The Funeral for John Alventar, Battle Master, Peace Bringer, Black Operator...husband...father...beloved...was a thing of beauty beyond what most species would understand, but Galgac now could.

With his newfound understanding of how deep and powerfully a human could feel Galgac felt himself straining under the weight of the proceedings around him. An almost inconceivable amount of children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren approached to console him, as if he was the one losing a family member.

Representatives from the remaining Alenshal empire arrived along with ones from the Kalasha Shoal, Melenkal Coalition, Sardashian Republic and half a dozen other smaller groups. Entombed upon his final command ship, in a cask of demi-steel the Battle Master gently cruised towards his final destination.

The Black Hole known as Charybdis...an ever-consuming horizon of unknown danger and glory, what better final resting place for one as mighty as the human that had done so much in his lifetime.

Gazing out at the endless void and pinprick points of light Galgac nearly felt himself begin to slip back into the memories of John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar.

Over there was the main star of the system that birthed the Kalasha Shoal, thirty degrees up and seven to port was the home system of the Sardashian Republic...he was pretty sure he had grandchildren there, no...the Battle Master had grandchildren there, not him, not Galgac who had barely seen a handful of human cycles.

Giving himself a quick shake Galgac focused on the here and now, what could he hear and what could he see. With a disturbingly human pricking of his ears Galgac zeroed in on a conversation between the representatives from the Melenkal Coalition and the Sardashian Rep.

“Admit it, the only reason you are here is to make sure the old monster under your sleeping pad is truly dead.” The voice of the Melenkal Coalition was like gravel being tumbled in a metal tube.

“Saaaahh…this is true, I wish to make sure the Harbinger is truly gone as it would not be the first time he has falsified his demise.”

Contrary to the Melenkal representative the Sardashian’s voice was a musical mixture of chirps and whistles that translated to a rather pleasant songlike voice. It would be a few rotations before Galgac realized it but at the time he was not using his universal translator and was in fact simply understanding the words and sounds being spoken…much like a human would.

Looking out over the vast star field that was to bear witness to the Battle Master’s final journey, Galgac casually took note of the wide variety of vessels that had shown up in the last few hours. Flagships and attending lesser vessels lit up the surrounding area with active sensor sweeps as they maintained acceptable distances from each other.

Blocky and stout Melenkal Destroyers surrounded the long and lithe winged shapes of the Sardashian Rep. Weapons had been physically safed and disabled according to galactic funerary laws but the tension was still enough to be felt across the void. There may have been decent relations between the attending parties, but old grudges still reared their heads every now and then.

‘Ha…’old grudges’...none of these individuals have a grudge older than the Batt...than John’s youngest great- granddaughter…’Galgac just smiled bitterly to himself as he thought this.

Realizing why it was considered a double-edged honor to enter a human’s mind among his people Galgac did his best to remember who he was among the still fresh torrent of foreign memories. He thought he knew what it was to feel anger, but now he realized he had barely felt a candle’s heat when compared to the raging inferno of a human’s wrath. Sorrow was nothing new to him, but the crushing weight and dragging doubt that humans could endure showed him that he had not even begun to understand what loss and pain meant. Galgac had known happiness in his life, but he had never known the glowing golden light of a humans’ joy, the effervescent feeling of happiness pure and light that always seemed to make things a little easier.

It was with a depth of sorrow he had never felt before, and a greater understanding of the feeling itself, that Galgac watched the great vessel that carried the Battle Master cruise gently forward until it reached the event horizon of Charybdis. Watching the mighty starship be slowly pulled into the depths of the singularity and disintegrate the further in it went, Galgac felt now would be a good time to enact the Battle Master’s final wish.

Unseen to any others in the room Galgac pulled out a small remote and pressed a button.

With a flicker the various view screens around the observation deck switched over to a picture of the Battle Master. To say the occupants of the room were startled at seeing their honored nemesis glaring down at them when he should be well on his way down the throat of a black hole was an understatement.

“Hello everyone.” The voice of the Battle Master rang out over the station’s observation deck.

“By now you probably think I’m dead and well on my way to my final resting place...and I very well might be, but as you will never see my body, I want you to ask yourselves ‘Is it worth it to try and undo what he did?’...of course this might just be a pre-recorded message, but in case it isn’t let me give you one last piece of advice: let someone else figure it out first.”

Galgac had to draw on a few memories from the late John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar to make sure his laughter at the faces of horror that now surrounded him looked more like the shaking of sorrow and tears. Only a human would do something like this, strike one last bolt of terror into those that were so eager to see him dead.

Walking off the observation deck as unobtrusively as possible Galgac allowed himself to smile at the sounds of fearful chaos behind him, a true smile with teeth bared and cheeks pulled back to his ears, with eyes squinted and a laugh ready to bubble from his chest...a very human smile.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #humans are space fae #ao3 fanfic

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koliejeon · 3 months

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Tainted by You - JJK

╰┈➤ 𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: nerd yandere jk x queen bee reader!

╰┈➤ 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: who would have thought that being tainted by the nerd Jeon Jungkook would feel this good.

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.3k+

╰┈➤ 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: manipulation, gaslighting, dumbification cock riding, fingering, dom jk, sub! reader, cream pie, squirting, size kink, blackmailing, yandere jk, slightly mean jk, degradation.

You're considered the queen bee of your university, the one who's always seen as the epitome of perfection, with everyone admiring how much of a pretty face and a smart student you are. Being looked up to by everyone on this kind of level really boosts your ego, so it's a shame if anyone would know how much of a moaning bitch you are while riding the cock of the biggest nerd in school, Jeon Jungkook.

But It's not your fault that he just fucks you too good...

He’s just too good at it that you can’t help youself coming back for more, even if you fully knew that this would taint your reputation as a queen bee. I mean, everyone’s expecting you to date someone who’s on your level, and not just a nerd dude with a messy curly black hair and thick glasses that just covers his features.

But to your defense, he’s not what everyone is thinking of him of. That boy who’s always shy around people, and just keeps himself accompanied with his books has a totally different persona when it’s just the two of you alone. He’s not shy, he’s actually arrogant, mean, manipulative and hot…

Yeah, hot… like how hot the depts of hell could feel like.

It all started last month when your stupid history professor decided to paired you up with him for a project. You didn’t have a problem with it, you thought that with this project, he might open up with you and to others instead of being that awkward nerd guy that everyone hates.

╰┈➤ 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙝

The bell rang as a sign that the class discussion has already ended and that it’s now time for lunch. “You may now leave the class, don’t forget to communicate with your partners and discuss the project” Mr. Lim, your History professor, reminded to everyone as they started packing their things to leave the class. Some replied a simple “yes” to him, while some didn’t bother and just hurriedly leave the room before the canteen seats would run out.

“Y/N, hurry up, let’s go now!” Jennie, who’s one of your friends said to you as she’s waiting for you near the classroom’s door. You smiled at here and was about to say something along the lines of “Yeah, i’m coming,” but you got distracted when you saw the boy in one of the backseats, he looks so lonely in there packing his things ever so slowly – probably taking his time since no one is inviting him anyway to go for a lunch, and for some reason you felt pity for him. “Actually, just go ahead first, I remember I have something to do this time” you lied to her, and she simply just agreed to what you said as she quickly tag along with her other friends.

Now it’s just the two of you alone in the classroom, you awkwardly approach him… unsure of how to start a conversation with him. “Uhm… Jungkook right?” you asked even know the answer is already obvious. He looked up at you and stared at you for atleast 5 seconds before responding “Y-yeah that’s me” he managed to mutter that out with a little stutter. You thought he was just shy, and you hate it. This is literally the reason why he’s being made fun of by those bullies. You brushed off that thought as you brightly smiled at him, “Great! I’m Y/N, Mr. Lim paired us up for the project. I suggest if we start doing it as early as possible”

“I’m okay with that” he simply replied.

“I’m free later, are you okay with that? I just don’t know where we can do the project though, My apartment is not that great since it’s small and I’m sharing it with Jennie” You stated, already feeling comfortable in conversing with him even though he’s not literally replying anything and just looking at you. You guess he’s more of a listener rather than a talker. “Aha! How about we do the project at your place?” you suggested out of nowhere. The project has to do with arts and crafts, so coffee shops are not the best place to do the project.

Jungkook eyes seemed to widen from being shock with what you’ve said. He can't even believe it. You want to go to his house??? This is something straight out from his dreams.

“Y-yeah…sure, why not” he was really glad and euphoric that you’ve said that, but his reply came like he was just forced to say yes. “Great! You can send me your address” you said, and he frowned but not enough for you to notice, what do you mean by that? You don’t wanna go with him together at his house later? “Uhm… lets just go together later” he suggested, and you nervously chuckled, no way your gonna go with him after class, people might see you and probably make fun of you for hanging out with a weird guy like him.

“But-”

“It’s kind of far away from here and you might get lost” he explained without stuttering, while straightly looking in your eyes. Those thick glasses might have cover his intense gaze, but definitely not the tension that’s starting to form in the room.

There’s this something from his aura, it’s like a sudden change that you could clearly figure out, but it surely made you nervous as you gulped. You wanted to say something but you were unable to get the right word out of your mouth, so instead you simply just agreed with him “...m’kay” you said while looking at the ground like a child who got declined by your parents to buy the toy that you wanted in the store.

Yeah, you wanted to somehow talk to him, but not like this! You were sulking with the idea and Jungkook found it cute that he smirk at your behavior. He broke the silence by saying good bye to you for now, “So I guess were already settled? I’ll see you at the parking lot”

╰┈➤ 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙥𝙨 - 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙩

It’s already 6 PM when I headed in the parking lot as I try to spot where Jungkook might be. Classes are already finished at 5:30 PM but I made sure to be late so that no one familiar would spot me getting onto Jungkook’s vehicle. This almost feels like I’m doing some sort of a crime, even though I am not. After a few minutes of searching he spots me and raised his hand to get my attention. I immediately went into his direction and damn… I just don’t know how to feel.

He’s leaning in a black sedan that I suppose is his with his left hand in his pocket and the other hand holding a cigarette. This is the only time that I’ve noticed he has veiny hands. Just what the actual fuck! It feels like I’m looking at the same person from an hour ago! He’s definitely not the typical nerd you get to see everyday. I mean, a nerd with a sedan who’s looking hot as ever while smoking?! I was basically gawking at the new sight, and I only got out from my delusions when he cleared his throat.

“Let’s go?” He said as he throw the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it. “Yeah” is the only thing I was able to mutter as I went to the passenger side of his car. I buckled my seatbelt on, and he started driving. He was wearing a ripped jeans and a grey Calvin Clien hoodie that he later on re-adjusted, exposing his left arm that is covered with tattoos. Do I even fully know this guy??? It seems like all those school gossips about him are just pure lies.

He was not lying, his house was really a bit far from the University, not to mention the slight traffic on the way. His house was located somewhere inside of an expensive looking village.

“You live here?” You asked after getting out of his car. The house was big, and looks expensive with a modern touch to its’ architecture. “Yeah, my parents gifted it to me last year” he replied like it was nothing as he guided you through the main entrance of his house. What kind of parents would gift their child an expensive house?! For fucks sake he didn’t even graduated yet or is about to get married. His parents must be crazy rich like those in the movies.

“I already have the needed materials, is it okay for you to wait here? I just needed to freshen up”

“Ugh… yeah sure. I’ll just play some music in my phone” I said, and he simply chuckled before opening the television for me without saying anything. I feel poor being here., well yeah my parents are also well-off, but not on this level! Waiting for him for at least 25 minutes was boring so I just made myself at home as I watched the movie playing in the television.

“You should take a picture” he suddenly said which caught me off guard

“I- what?”

“You’re looking at me a little too much”

“No I wasn’t!” I tried to deny it even though it was already obvious as my face became as red as a tomato from being so embarrassed, that I choosed to look on the floor, being shy to even look at him” Inside of my head, I was scolding myself for acting that way, he must have now think of me as a pervert!

He started approaching me, and before I knew it, he lifted up my chin as he cupped my face with both of his hands so that I would look at him. We we’re both looking at each other’s eyes, and then everything just happened so fast, I didn’t even know why I let It happen, but we we’re now passionately kissing as both of our tongues fought for dominance in which he obviously won. We were now in his bedroom but before things could get even more heated, I tap his shoulder thrice as a sign that I want it to stop. Gladly, he accepted my request and pulled back, “This is wrong” I simply told him, and a that made him ‘tsk’ as his face contorted an annoyed look.

“Wrong? Tell me what’s wrong about this Y/N?!” He answered back, he’s clearly not liking what I’ve told him but him. I can’t just answer him by saying that I don’t want to be associated with someone like him, people would make fun of me, and my reputation as a queen bee who’s always been perfect would be tainted. I don’t want them to think that choosing Jungkook was a bad decision, and that I’ve made a wrong decision. But I just can’t also tell that to Jungkook, I don’t want him to feel bad himself even though those are the true reason. I remained silent without moving a single inch of my body, my hand are still in his shoulder while he’s arms are wrapped on my waist. We were standing in the middle of the room, but even though were close enough, I didn’t had the urge to look in his eyes even though I know that he’s looking at me with burning gaze.

“What? You don’t know how to answer now? Cat got your tongue? Or you’re stupid little mind can’t just comprehend simple things?!” All his words hurt like hell, I didn’t even realize he could say such mean things to me, when all I knew is that we was that shy nerd boy at the back of the class who doesn’t even know how to fight back from his bullies. “Stupid Y/N, can’t even explain herself” he continued belittling me and it was all to much that I burst out and cry myself in his chest. He was shocked for a while but then embraced me in his arms as he let me cry all my worries while shushing me down “Shhh it’s okay darling, I know you’re little brain hurts from thinking too much, you don’t have to think, that’s my job, and you only have to follow what I say, right? It’s true, my mind was clouded and it hurts, so I just let him embrace me while drawing circles on my back.

It stayed like that for a while but then Jungkook drop the bomb, “I know you think it’s wrong because it would taint your reputation. Their poor queen bee Lee Y/N dating the nerd Jeon Jungkook? Doesn’t sound good to them right?” I look up at him, unable to say anything, and that just made me tear up more. “I’m sorry” I muttered to him as I buried myself in his bare chest, the citrus scent of his body wash engulfing my nostrils.

“Shhh… it’s okay baby, I know how much you love the attention the campus is giving you, it makes your dumb ego grow right? But the thing is, you ONLY need my attention”

“I’m sorry - Y/N’s really sorry” I said, already at my worst point as I continued to cry. I feel like a bad person based on what’s he’s telling me, but that’s the truth, I’m too self-concious of what people will say to me, I’m someone who starved attention, and I just feel bad that Jungkook has to know that side of me, and I’m now thinking that I hurted his feelings because I was too selfish. So I kept on apologizing “Gguk, Y/N’s sorry, please forgive her”

Jungkook smirked in victory, he knew he fully had you in control, oh just how easy it is to manipulate you. To break you into pieces so that he can fix you again, and then make feel like he’s the only one who can fix and save you from yourself.

“Shh… I was really hurt, darling. What you did was wrong, how come you think of me as a person that would taint your reputation when all I do is love you from a far?” that made me feel guilty more…

“But I would forgive you if…

“If what? Please tell me, Gguk, I will make it up to you, I promise!” I said, feeling determined to fix my mistake.

“If you make love with me. Prove me that you love me, that you need me, and that you’re not afraid to be tainted by me” and so, without much thought, I kissed him deeply, I opened my mouth, inviting him to intertwine his tongue in my hot cavern, as he lifted my shirt and carry me on his bed. I am now laying on my back, the tension from both us rising as I hurriedly removed my pants, leaving me in my underwear. The sight infront of me, him hovering above me as he continued kissing me while exploring every inch of my body had me whimpering in his bed. He started attacking my neck, making sure to leave as many hickies he could so that everyone knows I’m his.

His right hand started massaging my breast while the one started licking and sucking my nipple. The pleasure was just too good to be true, and after a seconds, my buds now sensitive and hardened as I continued moaning shamelessly. The pleasure that he’s giving me was just too god that I started unconciously buckling my hips to his hardened dick. “Too impatients aren’t you?” he teased, and I just whimpered. He took off my panties, looking at my dripping core, already wet for him. “Please hurry,” “Easy there, princess we have to to adjust your pretty little pussy first so it woudn’t hurt that much, okay?” he’s talking to me as if I’m some dumb kid, it was embarrasing but it makes me more turned on. Two fingers were pushed in my hole, I was shocked at the sudden intrusion but he soothed it by drawing circles on clit. “See? My fingers are even too much for you, how can you properly take my cock if you’re like that?” I wanted to disagree with him but I coudn’t utter a single word as he started fastly moving his digits inside me. “One more, please” he only chuckled after hearing that, and I’ve never felt so pathetic in my entire life. He must’ve known that I’m being dumbly determined just to impress him, but I later regret that when he fulfilled my wish.

“As you wish, darling” the third finger definitely burned my inside like hell, he’s fingers are not just long but also thick. After some time, my moans got louder and louder as I trembled in his fingers, and before I knew it, I squirted a lot, but he didn’t stop from fingering me, until I was begging him to stop “Ggukie…. To-too much please” and with that he removed his fingers on me...

“You haven’t even got the real thing yet. Plus you promised me, you would make it up for me, right? I was really hurt you know?”

“Sorry, I forgot” I embarrassedly admitted with a pout and he only chuckled at me “I know, it’s okay, I’m always here to remind you”

“Have you tried riding a cock before?” his question caught me off guard,

“What??? No I’ve never! Plus… you’re actually my first”

“Good, cause I will make sure that that person would die, if someone comes first on you before me. How about you become a good girl and right my dick, yeah? Prove me that you’re really sorry” I blushed at his statement but I didn’t bother to disagree with his request, I was at fault and I should make it up.

He’s leaning on the headboard right now, and Ii’m straddling his lap, while he lined up his cock in my entrance. I started moving down ever so slowly, but Jungkook was patient enough. But you know what they say, patience can also grew out easily, “What if it hurts?” I dumbly asked him, knowing that it would hurt more after seeing his size. He’s length is around 7 inch and it’s very thick, “It’s supposed to hurt, Darling” and with that, both of his hands pushed me down on his length, it hurt at first, but after a few seconds of adjusting, it felt like a bliss of heaven. I continued to bounce up and down on his length while moaning loudly as he played with my boobs, “Touch your clit, love” I did as what I was told and it was the best feeling I could ever imagine. Later on, I grew tired and cummed on his dick, but he didn’t stop there, instead he controlled my hip movement as he buckled is hips to reach his high and cum deep inside me. I was already pliant as black out after the session.

You may have not seen it, but Jungkook had the biggest grin of victory on his face, as he removed his now soften length inside your pussy. You’re already passed out, so Jungkook took the time to clean both of you as he covered your body with clean sheets. Little did you know, everything was recorded, from the moment the two of you step in his room. Jungkook would surely play the video sometime to jerk on you, and maybe use it for blackmail if you started acting up. But for now, you don’t have to know anything, what the two of you have, the thing that he made you believe, is already enough for him, cause he succesfully tainted you.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook #bts fanfic #fanfic #jungkook ff #smut #bts smut

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sirgogington · 2 months

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This might be a little unorganized and is definitely an unpopular opinion in this community, but I'm going to say it anyway. Feel free to unfollow. I wasn't going to post about it, but honestly I am so upset for George in this situation. I want to preface that I am a 28 year old female so maybe my thinking is a little different due to that.

The more I read about people's reactions to the George situation the more angry I feel. George was being accused of sexual assault, and the consensus is "he fucked up and should have asked for consent."

My bold take is that I have little sympathy for Caiti. She is a woman who regrets flirting with George, which she has the right to. But her story really made it seem like George randomly started touching her inappropriately, forced her to drink more when she was already drunk, purposely preyed on her because she was 18, and followed her out of the room to the elevator.

None of these things happened. She was drunk beforehand and her friends that she went to Dreams room with wanted to play drinking games. George didn't randomly start touching her. They were sitting together on the couch playing a game with the rest of the group and mutually decided to start cuddling. Caiti got up multiple times and would always come back and cuddle with George. Over the hour of cuddling they were flirting with each other, playfighting etc. When cuddling George started with his hands on her hips above her clothes, and then after he assumed she was comfortable with what he was doing, given the previous signals of her laughing, smiling, and coming back to cuddle with him then he placed his hands on her waist under her clothes. He said he would slowly move them up after awhile. She didn't show any signs of being uncomfortable. She could have pushed his hand away or told him she was uncomfortable with that, but she didn't. She could of left if she felt uncomfortable or sat somewhere else, but she didn't. She also didn't have to walk with George to the elevator, but she did. She didn't have to keep in contact with him afterwards but again she did. It's no wonder why George was understandably confused, and assumed everyone had had a fun night that night, and was blindsided by these accusations. George said that he made a joke about the elevator being broken, but saw when she wasn't open to getting in the elevator with her then he backed off.

Her friends also knowingly put her this situation. They left her unattended while she was drunk in the hotel room with Dream and George and whoever else was left. Going to a drinking social at 18 is a risky situation in the first place, this is why in college I avoided frat parties because I knew what could potentially happen if I went.

George literally did not do anything wrong, and people are painting him as a monster. Now that Caiti did this stream he has lost a lot of his fanbase and friends for no reason, because God forbid you support George. If you support George you must hate woman, because he's evil. Like people have said this could have all been handled privately. Just simple communication like "hey I actually regret what happened at Vidcon, and I didn't actually like that you were cuddling me looking back" or something along those lines. If George is a decent person which it seems like he is he would say okay and apologize most likely, and they could have not had this nasty drama for no reason.

I believe there is non-verbal consent, and most people in that type of situation would rely on that more than verbal consent. They test things like George was doing and slowly progress things. He could have asked if she was okay with it, but she was showing all the signs over the 3 hours that she was. He's not making you stay if you get uncomfortable. Where non-verbal consent doesn't work is if George would have groped her after a half our of flirting. That would absolutely be wrong, and need to be apologized for.

George was defensive in his video because he needed to be. After being accused of all these things you didn't do, and Caiti leaving out details you would be defensive to. She made him out to look really bad. She blew the situation way out of proportion and George has to suffer due to this. I really think that George didn't need to post the extra apology tweet, that the livestream would of been enough to show that he had no malicious intentions and was sorry that Caiti felt strongly about what had happened.

The whole support victims things in this situation makes me upset as well. There were no victims because there was no sexual assault. Yet if you don't say I 100% support the victim then suddenly your evil and hate woman. Without there being a victim it seems dumb to put that but if you don't then you're follower count also takes a hit as a content creator. George didn't fuck up, he acted in a way most men would, and probably even in a more gentleman like way to be honest.

It also upset me as someone who has experienced very real sexual assault. The guy was 25 and I was 18. I didn't want anything sexual/romantic with him because I could see the age gap, and told him that. He invited me to his apartment which I thought would be innocent because I presented my boundaries, but then he started taking off my clothes and telling me I was okay with it over and over until I believed him and let it happen, while feeling really uncomfortable. My body language did not show any interest, just confusion. I remember answering "I don't know" when he asked for consent to touch me, but he would just keep asking until I said okay. He purposely preyed on the younger women because he knew they were easier to coerce and more vulnerable. Looking back I didn't really knew where I stood on hook up culture. He convinced me he could teach me a few things that I could use with my sexual partners in the future. Luckily it never progressed to him taking my virginity. He bragged about how many girls he had slept with, and how many he had took their virginity. I would have been just a number to him. I am so much more than just a number. (he did a lot of other sexual things with me after coercing me into saying okay. Stuff I can detail if you care to know. I remember saying out loud that I was glad that I still had my virginity and I'm glad he didn't take it afterall. Not purposely leaving out, but it was way more than Caiti had experienced with George. For my situation there was a high likelihood it would happen again to another girl like me, and I remember wanting to warn them. It's different because my attacker did have malicious intents even though he disguised it as me consenting.) Being in the mindset I am now I would have never let any of it happen, but I am much more in tune with my thoughts and opinions on things. I would have noticed all the red flags and I would have never put myself in a 1 on 1 situation with an older guy like that or any guy unless I were dating them.

Outside the fandom I've noticed that a lot of people agree with me in this. It's just within the fandom that people are of this support the victim mindset, even when said victim turns out to not have been a victim of anything. I don't know if it's different with younger people that you have to ask for verbal consent for everything, but it just seems dumb. Everyone was also drunk and not thinking straight so sober minded Georgenotfound would have probably asked for consent before he moved his hands up. It's hard to know. I think other content creators probably do agree with me, but they aren't able to have their own opinions, which to me seems gross and fake. We can't genuinely know how content creators feel on certain issues because if were to tell what they truly thought and it wasn't the majority consensus then they risk their viewership which is also twisted.

#georgenotfound #gnf #rambling #SA #my thoughts #I feel like I'm insane for thinking this due to this fandoms standards #my experience

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darknight3904 · 2 months

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so american

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ. ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ɢᴇɢᴇ ᴡʜʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴛ ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴀʟᴀʏꜱɪᴀ??

ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ꜱᴏ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ʙʏ ᴏʟɪᴠɪᴀ ʀᴏᴅʀɪɢᴏ.

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ….

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2ᴋ

ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Kuantan, Malaysia

Vacation Day 5:

"Your English is really great." You compliment

"Thank you, I spent a lot of time in my early twenties practicing." The man next to you says

The hot sun that dances above is blocked by a pretty blue umbrella that your new companion got to stand up correctly. A half-melted drink rests in the sand next to your bag.

You met Nanami on the first day of your vacation while you were struggling to communicate with the woman who was working at the front desk of your hotel. He had smoothly cut in and easily translated your choppy Malay to something more fluent and even got you a room upgrade in the process. Originally, you had just planned to buy him dinner as a thank you but here you were, day five of vacation and you were still hanging out with him.

"You look good like that." He compliments

"Like what?" You laugh thinking of how sunburned you were

"With my shirt on." He explains, reaching out to tug gently at the sleeve of his soft linen beach shirt. He had let you borrow it after seeing how red your shoulders had become.

"Oh, right, duh." You smile, avoiding his gaze.

Was he even aware of how flirtatious he had been the past few days? You swore his pretty face and warm compliments would turn you into a puddle of love-sick embarrassment before you left this country. He reminded you of one of those men you only hear about in books or in cheesy one lined poems about love.

"It's getting late. Would you like to go to get dinner? I know a great market nearby, it has delicious street vendors." He asks

"Sure!" You smile jumping up off your towel to pack up your things while Nanami pulls the umbrella out of the sand.

You struggle to slip out of his shirt, your shoulders are burning from the sunburn.

"Keep it. I've got another in the car." He says pulling it back up over you, " You look pretty in it anyway."

You're mesmerized by the blonde as he drives down the road. Warm air from the open windows pushes your hair from your eyes as you eye the way his arms flex slightly when he takes a turn.

"You're quiet today. Normally you're full of jokes." He says

Crap. You can't admit that you've been ogling him all day!

"I...my back has been hurting."

What the hell was that?!

"Ah. You should've told me earlier, we could've rented those chairs." He says, referring to the overpriced chairs that were for rent on the beach.

"It's alright. Those are just tourist traps anyway." You dismiss

"We're both tourists." He reminds you

"I know..." You roll your eyes

"Put your feet up, I heard that can help with pain."

Your face heats up when he stops the car at an intersection and gently pulls your feet up so they rest on the dashboard. So touchy, you swear he's doing all this on purpose!

"Better?" He asks

"Yup!" You smile

Silence settles around you as you try not to treat the man next to you like eye candy. In defense, it's not your fault. Who knew driving could be so attractive? It didn't help that he hadn't put that extra shirt on yet...

"Tell me a joke." He prompts

Who did he think you were, a stand-up comedian?

"Umm...Why did Darth Vader go to the dermatologist?" You ask

"Why?" Nanami responds, a hint of amusement in his voice

"He had Start Warts." You say

You hear him let out a snicker of laughter and you feel your face heat up out of embarrassment.

"It was the best I could do cold turkey okay!" You groan

Nanami had been right about the market and the street vendors. You had never seen so much delicious-looking food at once. How did he know so much about this place? According to him, he had only been in Kuantan two days before he met you.

"So," You smile as you pop a delicious bite of food into your mouth "Do you always look like this or is this a special version of Nanami?"

You're referring to his relaxed appearance. Long blonde hair slightly hides his eyes and the top view buttons of his shirt are undone. His skin is tanned from all the time spent on the beach at your side and a pair of sunglasses sit in the pocket that's sewn onto his shirt.

"I actually wear suits most of the time when I'm back home." He says

Seriously? He hides this muscular build under suits every day? The poor women of Japan, they don't know what they're missing!

"No way!" You laugh

"I'm serious." He says, and he takes his phone out and pulls up a few pictures of him and a kid with pink hair at his side.

"Wow. You uh, look..." You don't want to tell him he looks like he has a stick up his ass...

"Stoic, I know." He says "I like to think Itadori brightens this picture up though."

You look at the pink-haired boy, Itadori, who is holding up double peace signs and looks like a ray of sun next to the stoic Nanami.

"He definitely makes up for your lack of smile." You tease, poking at his cheek as he brushes your hand off his face

"Well, I had good reason to not smile. The person taking this picture is the most- speak of the devil."

A chime interrupts his sentence and you look down at the phone to see a push notification.

Satoru Gojo

Shoko is going through old pics, check this one out, you were so cute, Nanamin!

Another ding sounds and your eyes widen to see a picture appear at the top of the screen.

Nanami tries to snatch his phone off the table but you get there first and open the message from this Satoru Gojo.

"Is this you in high school?!" You gasp seeing the picture in all its glory as you tap on it

You take the blushing and silence as a yes.

"Your bangs!" You laugh

"I know, it's bad. I don't know what I was thinking." He admits sheepishly

"I think it's kinda cute." You admit, "It kinda reminds me of an emo haircut."

"I wasn't emo." He says

"You sure? Those bangs aren't very convincing..." You laugh "Not to metnion you're not smiling here either...kinda seems emo to me!"

"I wasn't!" He groans, finally reaching successfully for his phone "I wasn't emo...I'm not emo."

You laugh at the way he texts this Satoru Gojo back with a scowl on his face.

"You should tell this person my opinions of your hair." You say

"So he can call me an emo when I get back? I don't think so. Nice try though." Nanami says gently tapping his shoe against yours under the table

Vacation Day 6:

You agree to Nanami's suggestion of a nice stroll through the lit-up city. City lights twinkle against the dark sky as you see the shops and karts selling different goods. You pick up the goofiest-looking plushies and make up different voices for each of them as Nanami watches and laughs.

"Wait, stop for a second." He says suddenly

"Hmm? Do you want one of those weird charms? They don't really seem like they're your style." You say, distracted by the store he's stopped you in front of.

A soft tickle on your leg brings your attention downward and you see something you're not expecting. Nanami is down on one of his knees tying the laces on your left sneaker. His blonde hair is brushing your knee as he finishes up.

"I didn't want you to trip." He says gently patting the back of your calf as he straightens back up

"Oh, thank you." You say, trying to ignore how warm his hands felt against your leg.

You're a mess internally as you try to keep cool when he continues to walk. If he keeps this up you're going to end up in love with him before this trip was over...wait...has that been his goal the whole time? It couldn't possibly be.

"Could I ask you a question?" Nanami asks when you finally get yourself together

"Sure." You say

"Are those red cups I see in movies actually a real thing where you come from?"

That's his question? Why would Solo cups not be a real thing?

"Umm of course!" You laugh at his dorky question, "Did you think they were fake?"

"I just thought it was strange that everyone drank from red cups at parties." He shrugs

"Well, for your information, Nanami I've been to multiple parties and drank from a red cup like in the movies." You say

"Interesting." He says, his body gently bumping into yours when you get a little too close, "You can call me Kento."

"I thought in Japan you were supposed to call a person by their last name." You say

"Well, yes that's for formality." He says, "I think we're familiar with each other though, we've been around each other for six full days now."

"Alright then, Kento." You smile, testing his first name out on your tongue

You want to laugh when Kento drags you into a tie shop. He must want something fun to wear to work when he gets home. You suggest multiple different kinds that are ridiculous and would probably get him fired. Your personal favorite? The one with the huge eagle with a snake in his talons. It was just too ridiculous to be real. Honestly it reminded you of things you'd see back home. It was just missing the signature red white and blue.

"Here, switch places with me." Kento says as you exit the store and get back on the sidewalk

"What? Okay." You agree

You don't miss the way he smiles to himself when he gets what he wants. Does he have a preferred side of the sidewalk or something? Who enjoys being on the side closer to the road? What a weird man.

Vacation Day 7:

"You're really strange sometimes." You observe

"How so?" He asks as he bites into a cookie

"You were fully content just wandering into my hotel room. What if I was an axe murderer?" You ask

It was a rainy day in Kuantan. There were road closures and a few downed trees nearby so you had invited Kento to spend the day with you in your hotel room. The two of you were wrapped in fuzzy bathrobes and had just polished off an excellent room service meal that he had insisted on paying for despite you insiting that it was payment for driving you around.

"I knew you weren't though." He says

"And if I was?" You ask

"I would be disappointed and then I'd try to fight you and your axe off." He says

"What if I was too strong?" You joke

"I doubt it." He laughs as he flexes one of his arms.

There isn't much to look at because of the bathrobe that conceals his arms from your greedy eyes but you swear you can see a bit of definition under all the fuzzy material.

"Whatever..." You mumble

His stupidly pretty face is making you say dumb things. Who talks about axe murderers with such a good looking man in their bed? You were surely the biggest idiot in all of Malaysia.

"I thought you said this was a good movie," Kento says

"It is! You just need to give it a chance!" You say

"We're already ten minutes in and the only jokes they've made are about sex and drugs." Kento points out

"Okay, but...look you just have to trust me okay!" You say looking at your laptop which is playing Superbad, a film Kento hasn't ever seen

"There is more to humor than just bad sex jokes." He says

"Well, not in this movie. Now hush." You say unpausing the movie

Kento Nanami's eyes drift over you as you're mesmerized by this movie. Sure there were funny moments but he had definitely seen better.

Besides, how could he focus on some old 2000s movie when he was too distracted by you? You look too cute for words in the hotel's bathrobe and there's even a bit of chocolate smeared on your face from the Hershey kisses you had pulled out of your bag and insisted he try earlier.

His eyes rake over you and your entire room in general. A pair of blue jeans haphazardly sits on the chair across the room. He can see the American flag-printed sunglasses you wore the other day sitting on the nightstand beside a few stray hair ties. An oversized bag of chips you had brought from back home is half eaten on the bed near his feet, he didn't even know they made bags that large.

He swore you were some walking stereotype of things he didn't even know were real outside movies. To top it all off he's pretty sure you're wearing a "New York Yankees Baseball" t-shirt underneath your robe.

"You're so American."

The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?" You ask, clearly a bit offended by his words

"Nothing, nothing." He laughs at the way your eyebrows knit together in confusion

"Tell me!" You groan reaching out to punch at his arm.

He easily catches it and pulls you into his side.

"Nothing. You're just really American." He smiles as he wraps an arm around you

You let out a huff of annoyance that he finds cute.

"Whatever, Kento. Maybe you're just too Japanese." You dismiss as you rest your head on his chest.

He lets out a hum of amusement and just accepts the way you send a mean pinch to his upper thigh. The pain is barely there but he laughs when you gently rub at the spot as a form of apology.

He's never been more glad that he came to Kuantan. He can't wait to visit more corners of the world, hopefully with you at his side. Yes, he's sure he wants to be around you even more, even if you're loud in stores, drink out of red cups, and wear baseball themed shirts. Sure, you might be oh-so-American to everyone else but he loves every bit of it.

Was that a cringe ending? I hope it wasn't.

As an american, I tried to think of stereotypes to put into this fic and struggled. IS that a sign I'm blind to them? Probably. Oops.

Yes, I'm still working on my Gojo fic. Have some Nanami while you wait. Consider this my formal apology for what I did to him in the Gojo fic...

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captainjamster · 3 months

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Observation Duty

Pairing(s): Price x fem!Reader Warnings: Manipulation, stalking, monitoring and surveillance, obsessive behaviour, non-consensual voyeurism, non-consensual mutual masturbation, non-consensual recording and photos Wordcount: 3.2k Summary: John isn't quite the captain everyone thinks he is, but he knows just how to act like it. No one would ever believe the things he does behind closed doors. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: PLEASE LOOK AT THE WARNINGS BEFORE YOU READ MORE! This is the first part of what should be two chapters, because I can't stop starting things without finishing them <3

If I miss any tags you think should be there, please let me know!

Full fic under the cut <3

John’s line of work has taught him that people are so, so easy to play with. Know the right person, the right place. Know what to say, who to say it to.

Keeping you safe, under his ever-observant eye, is easy in the barracks and on the field. You don’t make a single move he doesn’t see or hasn’t approved. But when you go home, away from him and his control, he just can’t help but worry. Are you safe, alone in that big, empty house? What do you get up to? Are you eating and drinking? Taking care of yourself? Who do you see? Do you invite anyone around? The idea of another man in your home makes him shudder, and in your bedroom isn’t something he even entertains. John needs to do something about it.

He’s been thinking for a while. Some way to watch you, every waking moment. A permanent eye on the wall. He knows your address; it’s right there in your files. There isn’t a single legal document or piece of information about you that he can’t obtain if he wants to. Every place you’ve lived, your parents, extended family, even your friendship circles. Your school results, community hobbies, bank purchases, every doctors trip – especially your birth control and fertility, he paid very close attention to those details. He knows how to play you; he listens to your grumbling, observes what makes you happy. Notices the moments where you’re less resistant, records what makes you flare up in defensiveness or fury. John is a well-educated man, one who could’ve been a scholar in another life, and he’s decided his favourite topic to study is you.

--- ︻デ═一 ---

“Remember to fill out your forms, lads. New policies coverin’ house insurance and maintenance, let me know if y’need any fixin’ at home.” He hands out the papers, carefully keeping yours separate without being too obvious. Soap’s head bobs up, glancing at you and taking the bait John has set out perfectly. “Oi bonnie, weren’t ye chattin’ ‘bout fixin’ a light o’ somethin’?”

Your face lights up at the mention, a bashful smile gracing your lips, and John would be mad that it’s not in his direction if he wasn’t so satisfied with himself. “I can’t believe you remembered that, yeah! I was going to wait until I got home.”

Gaz hums, hunched over his own form as he signs it. “Maybe Ghost can buy a piece of furniture this year.” His sentence is rewarded with a pen smacking into the side of his head, bouncing off him and onto the table as Ghost snorts in amusement, answering gruffly. “Fuck off, Garrick.”

It never goes wrong, but he still feels smug at how effortless it is to orchestrate an entire conversation before it starts. Getting your signature is as easy as an extra sheet, you can’t even tell the difference. No one reads terms and conditions, and he’s made extra sure you don’t - a couple of edited test forms a few months ago - to rule out the chance.

With the paperwork completed, he contacts the company and gives them a boring, digestible cover story. “Yeah, her husband. Installing cameras, yeah. Keepin’ it safe while we’re both on deployment. Just a light out the back to fix, cameras to install in and outside.”

They’re so quick to listen to the man playing the big, strong head of the house, not a single question about why everything but the payment would be in his ‘wife’s’ name instead. Lying, John finds, is easiest when others do the work for you; give vague details that seem right, and let them come to their own little conclusions. Let them assume you’re some kind of military wife who doddles along behind him, just an obedient little civilian pet while he organises the household. If only they knew what you were and what you did, he thinks. Though still, an obedient little pet is how he would like you. It just takes time to get there.

They come over and install the cameras in less than a week. John’s antsy the day he gets the call that they finished, waiting for it to be over so he can experiment with his new toy. He ignores the questioning looks from his inferiors as he dismisses his last evening meeting early, pushing out the door into the stream of soldiers heading for dinner, only departing from the pack when he reaches his office door.

John prepared a room for this in advance – the moment he set the plan in motion. A room at home, his central control that he could run unmanned and long-distance, circumnavigating his occupancy at the base. It’s almost undetectable; no pesky windows to peek in from the outside, entry hidden behind a locked door in his office. The numerous screens flicker to life, illuminating the room in a blue glow. The cameras are perfect; detailed quality, blur-less zoom. Every angle. It quickly becomes his favourite room to be in, despite only being in it once when he headed home to initially set everything up.

At the base, all he needs is an electronic device and an app to access the command. His favourite to use is his phone, flicking through each screen to take in the rooms, committing each detail and decoration to heart. Though to keep up all professional appearances, he often settles for his laptop, flicking between reports and gazing at the screens with every spare second. John takes the weeks leading up to break to memorise your house, seeing each room flickering on the back of his eyelids as lies in bed, tracing each path you’d take morning and night until he falls asleep.

He protects it. Types your address into his maps app, virtually scouting the neighbourhood to make sense of all your outside cameras, memorising every surrounding street. Plans escape routes, recording positions of defence and any weak spots he could reinforce, windows or vents that are just too easy to wrench open by perverse men like him. Within a month, he knows your house plan like his own; enough to contemplate how he would reorganise it if you wanted him to move in, how many little ones it could hold, tiny feet pattering up and down its hallways.

--- ︻デ═一 ---

When the last week before leave finally comes around, he’s beyond ecstatic. John is a carefully controlled slate around anyone else, but his boys know each twitch of his eyebrow and quirk of his lip. They clue you in to his unusually excited behaviour with teasing jokes and remarks that have him rolling his eyes, gruffly ordering them back to work. Soap is betting on a secret missus, making a point to sneak up behind Price when Soap catches him texting away on his phone.

When he finally arrives home, he’s delighted to see your house is still empty. It gives him time to unpack, running loads of laundry and showering. He keeps an eye on his phone, monitoring the screens until he finishes, bringing a cup of coffee and dinner to his little surveillance room.

The screens fill the wall, a 3x3 set-up that basks the room in a pale glow, yet still isn’t enough to display every camera hidden around your house. Everything is silent, the occasional rumble of a car getting his hopes up, but nothing happens until a few sips of his coffee and an article later. Movement from one of the screen catches his attention, his head straightening to watch your front door swing open.

A bag is the first thing that comes through the door, flung down the hallway with a dull thud. Your figure follows it in, heaving another heavy bag behind you. John frowns at the sight, mindlessly tutting as he crosses his arms. He could be there to do that for you. None of this silly straining yourself.

Leaning back and settling in, he watches how you unravel from your long absence. It pleases him that you’re practical in your return, taking the time to wash your laundry, circulate and dispel all the stagnant air (although Price dislikes seeing your windows open, so unattended), and give the place a general tidy up. There’s a ping from your phone a few times that puts John on edge. Who’s texting you already, when you’ve been back for less than a day? His prominent guess is family and close friends, excited to have their beloved child home and safe, but he can’t help from worrying that he’s wrong. Maybe you’re so pent up that you just can’t help it, using those silly dating apps you talk about with Gaz, eager for someone to unravel all that need within you. Maybe it’s an old friends-with-benefits situation you already have that’s eager to climb back in your bed. Maybe – maybe he should bug your devices.

His deliberations are disrupted as you reward your productivity with what Price thinks to be a party in your bathroom. The small haven of what should be privacy isn’t free from his omniscient gaze, either. He doesn’t care if it’s disgusting; there are no boundaries to him. There isn’t a single side of you he doesn’t want to see, doesn’t want to know.

The music comes through his speakers, some songs he recognises from the long travels spent in transport together. Melodies echo through your room as steam slowly gathers, whisps streaming in and out of his lens view as water slowly fills the bath. You trail from the room, meandering down the hall and grabbing some snacks from the kitchen, filling a glass with a carbonated drink you grab from the fridge. Snug in the corner above the entryway, paired neatly with the fire alarm, his camera catches the way you bend yourself over the counter, distracted by scrolling through some app.

He feels himself throb at the sight, fumbling to take a screenshot of the image. You tease him, staying bent like that as you wait for the bath, your ass swaying occasionally when a trendy song hums from your phone. Disappointment washes through him when you stand up, though he basks in the sight of your stomach peaking from under your shirt as you stretch, but his excitement is quickly renewed when you gather your snacks and head back to the bathroom.

The room has filled with a thick fog that blooms out into the hallway as you open the door. It clouds his vision, leaving him cursing for not considering the possibility. Your darkened figure is hardly visible as you move throughout the room, but from the soft, metallic clicks and flickering of light, he assumes you’re lighting something. Two lights blossom in front of you, remaining behind you as you crouch at the bath and start flicking the lighter again. The cloud has dispersed enough to let John see the fuzzy details of your face, watching as you bring a third candle to your face, inhaling with a hum of delight before you light the flame and return it to the bath’s edge. You strew the candles about the room, leaving a large one to glow on your vanity and putting the other one on your closed toilet lid.

You fiddle with the taps – running cold water, he guesses – and sit on the floor, sorting your snacks onto a long tray as the last of the mist spills from the room. He’s been lucky this time; had you not been treating yourself, taking the time to create a small sanctuary, the fog would’ve concealed any chance of John seeing you at such a vulnerable time. A flaw within his system that requires refinement. Perhaps a flaw he can turn into an excuse to visit you.

His thoughts fall flat when you stand up, slotting the tray into its position over the bath and silencing the taps with a few sharp turns. Finally. The point he’s been anticipating.

The captain waits with bated breath, eager to salivate over his uninvited striptease. It’s far from the first time he’s seen you undress, though it’s the first time you’ve been so beautifully unaware. Close proximity (and the resulting lack of privacy) is just another test of comradery – he’s showered next to you in just underwear and ripped your shirt or pants off to treat a stab wound more times than he can count.

But this time you undress, you don’t stop at your underwear.

There’s no to palaver or parade to your performance – there’s no real performance, just a one-sided show, and that alone has John’s cock aching. Capturing you without filter, pretences or social expectations, no song and dance of captain and soldier. You’re clumsy pulling off your underwear, catching the elastic on your toes and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor with the rest of your clothes through curses and grumbles. Inspecting yourself in the mirror, catching up on each new scar and burn, bending over and peering around to see the state of your backside and between your thighs. This is a side of you he can never glimpse on base, despite all his attempts.

The buzz of your phone distracts you, straightening up with a right, okay! and grabbing the small device, unlocking it to peer at the content as you gingerly slide a foot into the hot, soapy water. Bit by bit, you emerge yourself within the sudsy liquid, minding the tray as you let out an audible groan. John watches you melt into the bubbles, arms resting along the tub as your head falls back.

For a while, the two of you remain like that; John sat comfortably in his chair, ignoring the heat flickering in his lower stomach as he works through some papers, keeping an eye on your relaxed form as you decompress within the hot, sudsy water, picking at the tray of food and drink. His attention slips as the minutes go by, becoming more focused on his work – pushing the aching need between his legs further to the side - as he checks the screen every ten minutes.

The swishing of water becomes a tranquil ambience as you scrub at yourself, low voices from your phone that John doesn’t currently care to make out keeping you entertained through the process. You luxuriate in the tub for much longer than the barrack would ever allow, taking your time to scrub the build-up of product and dead skin that you give little concern during deployment.

A paper absorbs his attention, keeping his eyes occupied as he grumbles through writing. His concentration is only torn away as he finishes scribbling his signature, a sharp, unexpected moan filling his ears that has him looking up so fast his neck cricks. Scanning the screen, he quickly determines that it’s not coming from you – rather, your phone, and is now accompanied by a deep, masculine groan.

Your expression is clear on his screen, a flush to your cheeks as you gaze at your device, hand running along your chest teasingly to tug at a nipple. Whether it’s from the pornographic material playing on your phone or the heat of the water, John can’t tell.

The tent of his pants is already insufferably tight, and he swears there’ll be a zipper print against the red of his aching cock when he pulls it out. He wants to relish this, commit each moment of this first time to memory without the taint of his lust, but he can’t help the growing need between his legs. Ignoring it to finish paperwork, merely bask in the company of your unwinding routine, has been a challenge even for his steeled resolve.

As he watches your hand trail down the soft pudge of your torso, dipping into the bubbly water to follow the rise and dip of your stomach, he breaks. His cock springs out of his briefs like it’s gasping for air, bouncing angrily against his stomach with each haphazard tug at the elastic around his hips. He can only imagine how your fingers work between your legs at that sensitive skin, how you orchestrate your undoing.

The tray holds your phone conveniently, allowing both hands to roam your body, and John thanks his luck for at least the opportunity to watch you pinch and roll your nipples between your fingers. You tug at the sensitive buds with whimpered moans, water sloshing as your hips buck against your hand, teasing John with actions that he can’t see.

He’s damp to the touch as he grips his shaft, fingers immediately sticky with precum that’s been smeared throughout his briefs. Pearlescent beads drool from his tip in a lazy stream, lubricating his motions as he tugs lightly at his foreskin, already teetering the edge of climax. The slightest stimulation has his stomach tightening, listening to your gasps and whines grow in urgency.

You chase your orgasm eagerly, working with a pent up need that comes from the absence of full privacy within the miliary. Convulsions rack through you in synchronisation, moans combining in a harmony he wishes wasn’t separated by the screen. He wants to time it perfectly; fuck up into his fist and release as you reach your own peak, as if a flawless synchronisation is key to unlocking some phantom sensation of being buried between your thighs, clenched down around him.

It doesn’t take much more teasing before you catch up, your tiles wet as water breaches the rim with each careless thrust. The video in front of you has ended, long forgotten as your head lulls back, lost in the sensations that envelope your consciousness that prove to be too much. They push you over the edge with a ragged cry, your knees peaking from the water as your thighs clench around your hand, and John loses himself too.

All it takes it a few weak thrusts into his hand before his balls are tightening, seed spilling in enthusiastic spurts, striping his shirt and pants before it dies down to a dribble that John coaxes out with a groan. He sits there, watching your breathing even out as you wipe away at your mess, spent and catching his breath as the cum dries on his clothes. You’re quick in cleaning up the mess, pulling yourself up on unsteady limbs as you pull the plug, bending down to rinse your hands one last time for John to relish.

He's almost heartbroken when you step out the tub, droplets cascading down to drip from your form, only to reach for a towel to wrap around yourself. The fabric is a slim cover, leaving glimpses of your behind and chest as you dry yourself, humming a tune with a note of content John wishes he brought instead. John tucks himself back into the soiled briefs, shucking off his shirt and pants to wash momentarily, but not before he glimpses you one last time getting changed.

Before you can reach for the underwear placed in advance on the sink and discard your towel, the camera barely picks up the vibration of your phone, catching both his and your attention. Leaning over to the tray, your process is halted by a text on your screen that makes you smile, and whether it’s the drunken, post-orgasmic haze that clouds his mind, or the way it makes him more vulnerable to the surge of jealousy that flares up at your giggle, John finds himself fumbling through the lockscreen and pulling up your contact before he can stop himself.

If you’re not going to think about him during your masturbation, he’s sure as hell going to make sure you think of him after.

Dividers by cafekitsune

#READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE BABIES!!!!#price x reader #john price x reader #price x you #john price x you #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #jams writings #cw: noncon #cw: dubcon

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izvmimi · 6 months

Text

cw: language. one (1) reference to a rico nasty song.

The sudden clatter of a knife being dropped on a cutting board should have surprised you, but you’re too focused on the screen of the laptop before you to notice that Izuku has stopped chopping vegetables. He looks up over at you carefully, but you continue to type furiously on the other end of the kitchen island, not registering the set of eyes focused on your person.

“Babe?”

Clickity clack, clickity clack, goes the keyboard.

He sighs.

“___.”

His voice is stern and just loud enough that you do somehow hear it, and pulled out of your flurry of vitriolic thoughts, you look at him quizzically.

“Huh?”

“What are you doing?” he asks.

You grimace, then smile and scoff in just the way that concerns Izuku even further. He could tell from the pressure on the keyboard and the small noises of frustration that slipped out of you indiscriminately that you were clearly upset about something, and he could name a couple things that had popped up recently in the news to make you feel that way, but whenever you got to typing for this long with this level of focus, it could only mean one thing.

“I’m just drafting a response to a few criticisms I’ve seen online recently.”

His lips press into a thin line.

“Love, you promised-“

You frown at him and raise an index finger. “First of all, I did not make any promises-" He raises an eyebrow and you look at him sheepishly, then look away. “Fine.”

“Let me see it,” he insists. Before you can even consider closing your laptop, he’s behind you, one hand resting softly on your shoulder. His eyes scan the top half of the reply in the comments and you watch his response attentively, taking in how his frown deepens the longer he reads.

“Baby.” He rubs your shoulder gently, but you can tell he’s between irritated and disappointed with you immediately. Defensively, you shrug him off softly then cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m just communicating my discontentment.”

“Really?” He highlights a sentence at the end, and clears his throat before reading it aloud. “If I see you in the street, bitch your ass is done? That’s discontentment?”

You can feel your cheeks burn.

“It’s a quote!!! From a song!”

Izuku places a hand atop your head and squeezes gently. “It’s also a threat?”

“But-“

“___, you’re a professional Hero. This person could be Quirkless.”

You pause, consider, and then let out a sound of frustration, raising your hands in the air before placing your forehead to the desk.

“Look, I’m just tired of unkind things being said in the media. I don’t mind if they say mean things to me but we’re gonna have a conversation if you’re gonna attack my friends so viciously.” Your voice is muffled and whiny, which means you’re in your inconsolable mood, but by now Izuku is practiced and can get through to you. Izuku’s hands shift from your shoulder to your back and he pulls the stool beside you to sit down.

“I get it, but people say stupid things all the time. Think about what people say about me daily.”

Your head turns to face him.

“The media literally adores you, what are you talking about?” Izuku gives your a cheeky half-smile.

“True, but they didn’t always.”

You give him a soft punch on the shoulder. “Show-off.”

He laughs, and pulls you to him. “You know what it was like when I was a kid though.”

You frown again, thinking about the punches she still thinks she owes Bakugou despite the fact that he’s redeemed himself, and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Can I delete it?” he asks.

“Sure,” you agree.

“Good girl.”

You feel your cheeks warm but don’t say anything as the angry text disappears. He kisses your cheek and gets up again to finish preparing the meal he’d started. You get up as well and wash your hands before joining him.

You work side by side for a few moments before Izuku bumps you gently on the hip.

“Are you gonna save a bit of the feistiness for bed?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

You bump him back on the hip.

“Pervert.”

He beams. “For you? Absolutely.”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes #izuku fluff

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viviennevermillion · 7 months

Text

poisoned veins

✧ notes: first work for my "autumn remedies" event! i'm doing the commonly triggering topics first before moving on to my more soft prompts. stay safe while going out and look out for your friends as well. here's an article about how to recognize drink spiking if it happens to you or a friend and what to do in this situation.

✧ synopsis: sampo protects you and takes you to natasha's clinic after your drink has been spiked, waiting in worry for you to wake up. (hurt/comfort), 3.1k words

✧ now playing: bad things — breathe

✧ warnings: drugging, medical emergency, vomiting, seizure, needles

Entertainment was always sparse in a place like the Belobog Underworld. It was almost a little ironic that a Masked Fool like Sampo found enough amusement in a place where most people spent their free time in fight club and meeting up in backalley taverns. That's what pretty much every establishment in Boulder Town was like in the late evenings. You could hardly expect a fancy restaurant in a community that had been sealed off and short on resources for such a long time. But people still made the best of it. Most bars and taverns had enjoyable menus, so people didn't mind coming back on their weekends. It was not Epsilon XII and hardly comparable to the joyful atmosphere Sampo knew from the Masked Fools taverns, but it was the perfect place to get some inspiration for a new scam.

He didn't expect to find you there when he entered the tavern late at night. He had helped Wildfire out with procuring a couple of necessary items and had gotten back late; deciding he wasn't in the mood for half-burnt scrambled eggs that he tried to make while tired and with a hardly commendable attention span. So take-out food was the way to go tonight. He sat down on the stool next to you at the bar. "Hey, fam!", he addressed you with a cheerful smile on his face, "do you come here often?"

You chuckled at his remark and took a sip from your drink. "Why does this sound like a cheap pick-up line?", you raised an eyebrow at him as Sampo ordered the weirdest food on the menu. "It's not, I swear!", he held up his hands defensively and laughed, "I was just curious, is all." You shrugged. "Well, to answer your question, I don't really go to places like this all that often but I was in the area and I really needed a drink. I'm exhausted." Sampo didn't know what you had been doing beforehand, but he could guess that it probably had something to do with helping another poor soul in need or just not understanding what an appropriate time to stop work was. A common pattern around here, really.

"What a coincidence, I just came here for a meal as well", he smiled at you but was a bit annoyed about having to yell over all the background noise. He felt like you were a little uncomfortable with the atmosphere at the bar. "You don't seem to like the place a lot", he remarked, earning a glare from the bartender who probably thought it was out of place for someone to declare loudly that a person didn't like his establishment. But you seemed almost relieved that someone pointed it out. "Yeah it just isn't as safe and comfortable as I'm used to", you nodded, taking another sip of the drink, "had to shoo away some idiots who were getting a little too comfortable being in my personal space before you arrived."

Sampo took his plate with the chocolate sauce burrito into his hands and got up from the stool as soon as it was brought to him. "Well, if you need their money as compensation, you know where to find me", he winked and nodded his head towards the front door, "wanna sit outside where it's a little more quiet?" Pondering on his words, you noticed you were more than ready to leave this place.

So you followed Sampo Koski to sit on a small bench under a lamp post across from the tavern.

There were a few guests outside and Sampo kept his distance from them as he walked through the dining area. Meanwhile you seemed to struggle a little. "Watch where you're going", an older woman hissed as Sampo turned back and saw you getting a little dizzy, bumping into the sitting customer and causing her to let go of her fork which promptly dropped down to the floor. The waiter made his way inside to get her a new one. "Sorry...", you mumbled and seemed a little bit out of it.

Sampo walked back to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder for support, guiding you over to the bench. "Don't need to hold onto you, really", you sighed and sat down, your words sounding a little bit slurred. He wondered how much you had to drink. "Friend, are you doing okay?", he asked with a smile on his face. "Mmmh...", you replied, feeling the wooden surface under your hand as you sat down, almost missing the bench a couple of times, "...just a little tired."

Sampo raised an eyebrow and there was a look of concern on his face but he brushed it off. He knew how a person could get with enough sleep deprivation. Besides, he was there to look after you when you got too drowsy. It was late and he made a mental note to walk you home when the time came. For now though, he thought he'd just sit under the moonlight with you for a while, letting you take in the fresh air and clear your senses. Maybe he'd get to talk with you a little bit and finally find the courage to ask you out. He had done so a couple times, always hiding his true feelings behind his goofy facade. You had thought he was joking and he didn't have it in him to correct you thus far. He couldn't blame you, really.

The downside of being a jester could very well be that people struggled to see that there was a person with feelings just like everyone else underneath the mask. Sampo gazed up to the stars with a helpless smile on his face. He remembered when he made you laugh and how his first thought had been that maybe this had been the reaction he had been looking for all along when he committed to his shenanigans. That seeing you giggle about his endeavors made it worth running from the Silvermane Guards every once in a while. Ever since the border between the underworld and the overworld was reopened, they had been patrolling in Boulder Town as well, which made Sampo's line of work even more difficult. He wondered if you could love someone who had an arrest warrant on his back. Perhaps he'd always be a coward when it came to letting you see what was in his heart, he mused.

"Well, maybe it's time to head back for us. It isn't long until the night patrol passes through here and I wouldn't want to run into the guards tonight. How about I walk you back home?", he sighed but his heart seemed to stop for a second when he looked at you again. You were slouching, your hand pressed to your head and Sampo noted that you looked a little sick. "Y/n?", he called out your name and tapped your shoulder multiple times. You were unresponsive. "Y/n?", he tried again and grasped your shaking hand as you leaned over to your side to empty your stomach into the trashcan next to you. You missed.

"Hey, maybe we should stop by Natasha's clinic before we get you home, alright?", he spoke softly but there was worry evident in his voice, "you don't look like you're doing too well..."

Sampo saw you reach for the drink next to you with unsteady hands, struggling to hold onto the glass as you lifted it to your mouth. A realization seemed to cross Sampo's mind. He took the beverage from your hands before you could take another sip. Something inside you seemed to protest, and you tried to reach for the glass again in confusion, knocking it out of his fingers by accident.

It fell to the floor with a loud shattering sound, startling you. Sampo saw tears forming in your eyes from the shock. You seemed scared and confused but unable to communicate. "Come on, let's get you to a doctor", Sampo whispered in a comforting voice, helping you up, "I'm sure someone will clean this up, don't worry about it. Can you walk?"

He got his answer when you collapsed and your legs gave in. Luckily, Sampo was fast enough to catch you before your head hit the pavement. You stared up with wide eyes but didn't seem to look at anything in particular. It was like you were staring right past him. Your muscles tensed and you tried to point at something that Sampo couldn't see. He called out your name a couple more times in panic, gently tapping your cheek multiple times as if hoping you would just snap out of it. His heart had sunken in his chest and a shiver ran down his spine, seemingly freezing his bones. You looked like consciousness had left you; clenching your jaw and moving it like you were chewing on something.

Sampo swallowed his fear and picked you up, ignoring the concerned stares of the nearby tavern guests. Natasha's clinic was only a few streets away from here. He could make it in 5 minutes if he ran. Running with you in his arms proved to be a challenge as your body continued writhing. The movements reminded Sampo of a new-born baby tossing and turning in the crib and grasping for nothing in particular. Definitely not something that should be happening to you.

You looked dead inside. The image sent a feeling of panic through Sampo's heart and he was hoping his own legs wouldn't give in due to the shock. He needed to be strong for you now. Memories flashed through his mind of the last time he had met you, grabbing a coffee with you in the overworld and joking around about his newest scam. Everything had seemed like fun and games during a time where the possibility of losing you had never crossed his mind. But now it did. And it terrified him. As the cold air of the night seemed to burn in his lungs as he kept running, a quiet voice inside him wondered what would happen if he never got to see your smile again. He could only guess at what had put you in this state but he didn't know what it actually meant for your health. Were you going to see the dawn? Were you going to stay like this? He probably shouldn't think about that for now, he mused.

He opened the door to Natasha's clinic with such force that it sounded like he had kicked it down as he called out for the underworld doctor. He recognized her by the sound of her heels on the floor as she made her way towards him. "Sampo Koski, how many times have I told you to keep your voice down in my hospital-", Natasha stopped in her tracks when she saw Sampo holding you like this, trying to keep you still as to not drop you, "oh god." She hurried over to the emergency section of the clinic and got a stretcher ready for you. "Put them down here", she instructed Sampo, who carefully lowered you onto the stretcher. Natasha noticed there were tears in his eyes and he was shaking. She had never seen him this concerned about anybody.

"Will they be okay?", Sampo bit his lip and tried to calm down, taking deep breaths while simultaneously doing his best to keep your arms and legs on the bed so you wouldn't hit them against something and injure yourself. "Probably", Natasha calmed him down and brought her medical equipment to your bedside, "I've had cases like this before and so far none of them died on me, so have a little faith, okay?" Sampo nodded. "Would you help me keep their arm still? I need to take a blood sample", she asked him. He firmly but gently pinned your arm down with both hands while Natasha took a sample of your blood and then put you on an IV. She brought the tube with your blood to the laboratory while Sampo held your hand in his to make sure you didn't move your arm too much with the catheter in it.

Seeing you writhing on the stretcher made his heart break. Neither trying to comfort you with his words nor swearing that whoever did this to you was going to pay for it seemed to bring you back to him. He felt helpless. The time Natasha took to get results from the blood test, administer medicine to you and ultimately cause your body to relax again felt like an eternity to him. It eventually just looked like you were sleeping, which allowed Sampo to calm down as well. "They need rest now", Natasha said eventually, "I need to attend to the other patients but you can stay here if you'd like to... though I do have the feeling you wouldn't leave even if I kicked you out." She gave him an encouraging smile, having noticed how much you meant to him. Sampo just smiled back weakly and let her continue with her duty as a physician.

When you woke up your head hurt. You felt confused and didn't know where you were. Images flashed through your mind of you talking to Sampo at the bar counter. That was the last thing you remembered. So it was confusing to you to open your eyes and find yourself in a hospital bed with a catheter in your arm and an annoying beeping sound coming from the machine next to you. Natasha had noticed you had woken up and came over to your bed.

"I see you're awake", she remarked with a soft voice and sat down on a chair beside you, "how do you feel?"

You cleared your throat and noticed how dry your mouth felt. Natasha already had a glass of water ready for you. "Can you hold it?", she asked and carefully handed it to you, keeping her hand on the bottom of the glass in case you dropped it. You managed to hold onto it and take a few sips from the water. "Thank you", you mumbled with a weak voice and sat up, feeling a bit of your strength return already, so you kept drinking.

Natasha allowed you to take your time to gather yourself. "So... how did I end up here?", you asked, your voice still sounding a little hoarse. Natasha sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?", she asked you. You took a moment to reply. "I was sitting at the bar counter, talking to Sampo", you explained and chuckled weakly, "he ordered this horrible chocolate sauce burrito... seriously who eats something like that?" A small smile found its way onto Natasha's face. "So, what happened?", you asked quietly.

"Well... it seems someone mixed something into your drink...", she started, seeing your eyes widen, "nothing more happened but you collapsed in front of the tavern and had a seizure. Sampo brought you into my clinic." "Oh...", you mouthed, your thoughts scrambled all over the place as you tried to process what Natasha just said. She nodded towards the other side of your bed and your eyes followed her gesture, finding Sampo passed out on a chair next to you with his crossed arms and head on your nightstand and a blanket draped over him. He was drooling a little and even though he was asleep, you could tell he seemed exhausted.

"He stayed here the whole night", Natasha told you, "...refused to leave your side even when the guards wanted to take him into custody because they suspected he did it." "He didn't", you retorted immediately and Natasha stopped you. "I know. They found that out after investigating the tavern and hearing from other witnesses that you had that drink before Sampo even entered the tavern." You sighed with relief. The last thing you wanted was for the man who brought you here and made sure you got the medical treatment you needed to be arrested.

"Honestly, I've never seen Sampo so scared before", Natasha remarked, "he looked like he had seen a ghost." Your hand reached for your sleeping companion and your fingertips gently carded through his dark blue strands of hair, stirring him awake in the process. Sampo yawned and opened his eyes with a tired expression but as soon as they met yours, he felt wide awake once more. "You're alive!", he exclaimed with a relieved smile on his face and reached for your hand, holding it in his own, "Sampo Koski was so worried about you!" You squeezed his hand. "Thank you for looking out for me."

"There's absolutely nothing to thank", he told you, sounding more sincere than you had ever heard him, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more..." Those last words were more of a whisper but you picked up on them anyway. "You did everything you could", you insisted as Natasha did some further testing to make sure everything about your condition was stable.

"You're going to need to stay here for further testing for now", she explained to you, "you will likely be fine but it's best for you to remain in the hospital and be monitored for today." You nodded. "Don't hesitate to call out to me if you need anything", Natasha continued, "as for everything else, I'm sure Sampo doesn't mind keeping you company while you're here." You looked over to him and he nodded to confirm what Natasha had said. "If you don't mind, of course", he added awkwardly. "I don't", you reassured him and held onto his hand.

Sampo remained by your bedside until you were discharged in the evening, aside from the time he went out to get lunch for the two of you, surprising you with a meal you had mentioned liking. He was ready to answer any question you had about the time when you were unconscious and the things amnesia has made you forget. He made sure to let you know that whenever you needed to talk or just didn't want to be alone after this, he'd be only one call or text away. Whether he had a 'business meeting' or not, according to his words. He doubted he fully knew how to deal with the situation but he swore he would do his best to make sure you'd be okay. You didn't know where the future would take you and how this situation would affect you in the times to come, but you found comfort in the fact that, come what may, you wouldn't have to deal with it alone. Perhaps that was all the confirmation you needed to understand how much you meant to Sampo. Maybe words weren't even needed anymore...

if you liked this fic, keep an eye out for the other works i have scheduled this month. reblogs and comments are appreciated! 👍🏻

any support for my event would be greatly appreciated! 💕

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski x you #sampo x you #sampo #hsr sampo #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail sampo

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genshin-impacted · 1 year

Text

Exchange of Rings

(Alhaitham x Reader - 6/?)

You meet the Sumeru crew. Everyone assumes Alhaitham is in love with you. (They're not that off.) OR shampoo + congratulations + fiancé

Word Count: ~5.0k

Notes: afab!reader, second person pov “you”, gn!reader, switches pov with Alhaitham, modern au, arranged marriage, fall first/fall harder, slow burn, ft. everyone in Sumeru (except Nahida) and Cyno's dad jokes

[Previous - Next]

When you got engaged to Alhaitham, you shared the news with your immediate family and closest friends. It makes sense on your part because you hold your loved ones close to your heart, and they had a role in your decision to try an arranged marriage. On Alhaitham's side, his parents and grandmother know– and that's about everyone who does.

It has nothing to do with shame and everything to do with not making a commotion. Alhaitham finds no need to inform his coworkers that he may be a married man at the end of the year, knowing full well they would make a big deal out of it.

(In their defense, engagements are big deals. Alhaitham being engaged is an even bigger deal. Unfortunately for everyone, Alhaitham understands this well and deliberately does not speak a word unless they ask. Or, alternatively, if you ever ask.

To his knowledge, people often associate public announcements to be a sign of commitment, and the lack of one would indicate otherwise, which is not true for him. To avoid this possible miscommunication down the line, Alhaitham asks you directly whether you care that only his family knows, to which you blink and shrug.

“Why count the chickens before they’re hatched?” You tell him, patting your face with moisturizer. “This period is a trial run for us anyways, so I get it if you don’t. By the way, I’m going to go buy some more shampoo soon. You want me to get you anything at the shops tomorrow?”)

If possible, Alhaitham would prefer to only do one announcement via invitations to the wedding. Though now that he thinks more about it, even if you are fine with his choice to keep his engagement private, he thinks you’d be happy if he did announce it, if not to the world than at least to people closest to him. As a result, Alhaitham has vaguely thought of telling his friends with a passing comment and leaving it at that. It could work, if he came up with a proper plan– Friday evening where he can avoid any additional questions after his sudden declaration, drop the fact that he has a fiancé.

It may not be the grand public announcement that many people, possibly including you, would have wanted, but it would be a compromise between not saying a word of his betrothal to you at all.

Before Alhaitham could enact his plan a few days from now, Dehya forces his hand.

"Yo, Alhaitham,” Dehya says, sniffing, “did you change your shampoo or something?"

His coworkers are gathered around the communal table with their morning coffee and donuts, courtesy of the cafe downstairs having a crush on Nilou. Alhaitham only passes by the group when everyone turns toward him (and Dehya) quizzically.

“Dehya,” Cyno begins to say, “are you, by any chance, Dracula’s dog?”

Alhaitham turns away to continue his intended route to the office kitchen to grab coffee. Just his luck, the pot is empty, so he has to boil a new one. He starts the coffee machine when he hears Dehya’s confusion. “What are you talking about, Cyno?”

“Because you’re a bloodhound. Do you get it? Because bloodhounds are known for their acute sense of smell and Dracula is a vampire– a mythical creature known to seek out victims for blood-”

“Ah, Dehya does have a pretty good sense of smell,” Alhaitham hears Nilou pipe up the same Tighnari tells Cyno to stop talking. Alhaitham sets out a cup as the coffee machine churns out its dark liquid slowly. He’s thinking it would behoove him to purchase the office another coffee maker if it would let him leave the communal space faster. Or even purchase a coffee maker just for his office so he never has to come out here.

Ah, but then if it’s a better machine then everyone would just keep asking him to make the coffee for them (read: Kaveh), so he’d better scratch that idea.

“Hey, I’m no bloodhound, alright?” Dehya snorts. “I don’t go around sniffing everyone all the time, just to make that clear. I just happened to notice it because it smelled like the same type of shampoo I use.”

“It’s my fiancé's,” Alhaitham says. He takes a sip of the dark roast coffee in his cup, and he does not need to turn around to know that everyone in the room is looking at him in stunned silence. Actually– Alhaitham turns around just to see their reactions: it will be his only source of reprieve before the deluge of questions.

Tighnari is the first to recover, as expected of him. “I’m sorry, did you say fiancé?” He asks, “We’re using the same definition of fiancé, right?”

“There’s only one definition for that word,” Alhaitham replies. He starts walking toward the door only to be stopped by Dehya who’s beginning to grin ear to ear.

“Whoa, whoa, you can’t just drop that type of information on us without any explanation and just leave!” She says, patting Alhaitham on the shoulder.

“How long have you been hiding this from us, Alhaitham,” Cyno says, clasping his hands at his chin. “A few weeks? Months? Regardless, I believe some details are overdue.”

“Well, first off, congratulations, Alhaitham!” Nilou says, clapping joyfully. “I’m so happy for you!”

“True, it is a cause for celebration,” Tighnari says thoughtfully. “My apologies for not starting with that. Congratulations, Alhaitham. Now, do we know them or…?”

“If I give you ten minutes to answer your questions," Alhaitham says, "will you stop bothering me about it?”

Alhaitham is sat at the round table with a small audience as he briefly summarizes his situation. No, they don't know who you are. Yes, he’s living together with you. No, he didn’t meet you on a dating app– it was through a matchmaking service. No, it wasn't his idea, but yes, he's planning to see it through.

This comment pulls an 'aww' from the girls, which he can’t seem to wrap his head around the reason why. Tighnari is quick to explain, eyes thoughtfully watching Alhaitham. "You can't blame them for feeling this way, Alhaitham." Tighnari says with a hint of laughter, "Coming from you, that's as close as we can get from a full-blown confession of love."

"And to share the same hygiene products…" Cyno nods. "Another damning piece of evidence."

"Hey, 'damning' is a bit too harsh for something as joyful as this, isn't it?" Alhaitham hears Tighnari reply with exasperation.

He thinks about telling them that using your shampoo was out of convenience when his own hair products ran out. You had not minded when he asked. In fact, you seemed a little happy when he used it. Now that they've mentioned it, perhaps it's because for the past few days, he's been smelling the same as you.

Smell is a powerful sense, after all. Alhaitham thinks he might think of you from the scent of citrus alone.

"I don't see why I wouldn't go through with this, at this point in time," Alhaitham says. "The whole purpose of this is to find someone whose lifestyle is compatible with mine, and it has simply gone according to plan."

"How long have you been living together?" Nilou asks cheerfully, bulldozing through Dehya’s eyeroll at how ‘unromantic’ he was being and the shared look between Tighnari and Cyno.

Alhaitham counts the days left till the end of the contract. "Almost half a year," he says. He hears Cyno mutter under his breath about how Kaveh should have been here, and Alhaitham thinks it was best he wasn't. He would be the most persistent in his questions, not to mention the bemoaning of the unfairness that Alhaitham, of all people, got to end his bachelor life. And then proceed to demand that Alhaitham treat his spouse right (as if he wasn't already doing that).

"Too bad for Kaveh, huh?" Dehya teases, the grin not leaving her face once during this entire exchange. "Finally decided to take a vacation and missed out this bombshell of a conversation. And- oh! I should let Candace know." Dehya says, pulling out her phone, "She'll be so excited for you."

"And I'll text Kaveh," Tighnari says. "Unless you want to do it, Alhaitham?"

"I'd rather you not do it at all," he says blandly.

Tighnari shrugs. "Yeah, I knew you'd say that so I just sent it."

Alhaitham lets out a sigh and stands from the table. He considers getting another coffee but thinks otherwise lest they ask more questions. "Well, if anyone needs me… don't. I'll be in my office-"

A phone rings. All their heads turn to Tighnari.

"Ah, speak of the devil," Tighnari says, too innocently for Alhaitham's taste. "It's Kaveh."

He doesn't even have a chance to tell Tighnari to not pick up when Kaveh's voice is blaring on speakerphone, loud enough for the whole office to hear. "What do you mean Alhaitham got engaged? For how long?! And he never told us? What the f-"

Cyno quickly presses the speaker button again before looking up at Alhaitham. He doesn't like the gleam in everyone's eyes since he's spoken about you. "Guess the cat's out of the bag." Cyno says somberly, "Now all of Sumeru Co. knows you're married."*

"Engaged," Alhaitham says flatly. "And we still have another six months-"

Nilou clasps her hands together and gasps. "Wait, Alhaitham, you'll invite us to the wedding, won't you?"

"Oh, you better," Dehya says. "I want an in-person invitation."

Alhaitham hears Kaveh's voice going off even off speaker phone with Tighnari filling in the details. Cyno goads him with his knowing look as Nilou gushes about the possible wedding plans and 'oh, please let us meet your fiancé, Alhaitham!'

"By the way, Candace says 'congratulations,'" Dehya tells him. "And she wants to throw a party for you. When did you want to do it?"

Alhaitham wants to take his PTO, effective immediately.

The news spreads like wildfire. Alhaitham’s gotten used to muting all his notifications during work, reachable only through his email. Even then he cannot escape it when Candace sends him a cordial email to say her congratulations and to ask him to "update his emergency contacts and addresses as soon as possible! ^^"

Alhaitham anticipated the gossip, but he did not predict how badly his coworkers (“Friends!” you would correct him cheerily) would want to meet you. Luckily enough, he does spend the majority of a workday in his own office, so he only has to suffer through the pleading when he goes to get coffee. He’s never been more tempted to buy a coffee maker for his own office.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him one night before dinner. The question is asked with concern, but there is a hint of amusement in your tone as you watch him dice the onions with a death stare. “Did something happen at work?”

Alhaitham pauses in his cutting. “I’ve told my coworkers about you,” he says, glancing at you the moment your eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “They’re quite insistent on getting to meet you.”

Your amusement is palpable now. “And that’s… bad?”

“Their insistence is tedious,” Alhaitham says dryly. He places the steak on the grill as it sizzles. You inhale the intoxicating smell of seared onions and garlic with a smile that he finds himself almost mirroring. “I offered the opportunity to meet you when the wedding happens, but they seem inclined to think the sooner the better.”

(‘When,’ you repeat in your head, affection bubbling in your chest. Not ‘if’ the wedding happens, but ‘when’ as though it is already set in stone.)

When you don’t respond, Alhaitham turns his attention from the stove to you, only to see you smiling widely at him. You tell him cheerily, “Then why don’t I just drop by your work one of these days? If they meet me, they can stop pestering you about it, right?”

“It’s inconvenient.” Before you can say anything further, he elaborates, “My workplace is at least a twenty-minute drive away, forty minutes round trip. If the purpose is to just stop by and introduce yourself, then the commute is definitely not worth it.”

"Aww, I can do it!" You say pouting. "It'll be fun!"

"No need."

"It's no trouble, really!"

"It is an immense amount of trouble, actually. Gas prices aren't lowering, you know." Alhaitham plates the food with a thoughtful frown. "You're unusually persistent about this. Something tells me there’s something else.”

You shift your weight. "Well, I’ve always wanted to meet your friends!” Ah, that's why, he thinks. As though you read his mind, you cross your arms and huff. "And we can carpool! Besides, I like driving you around, so it really isn't inconvenient for me at all!"

Alhaitham rolls his eyes, much to your indignance. When you stubbornly block his way from setting the dinner onto the table, he sighs, folding easily into your hands. "I know you don't mind driving me, but we'd have to align our schedules when you're not working and I am."

Your face immediately brightens at his words, though it dims just as quickly. "Do you mind," you start to say, uncharacteristically quiet, "that I meet your friends? It's not weird for you, is it?"

A sudden moment of insecurity from you. It takes him by surprise, but Alhaitham nips this thought in the bud before it can think of growing. "No," he says steadily. Because in the end, when it comes to you– "I don't mind at all." When you look up at him with your smile's brightness turned up to a hundred, he avoids getting blinded by swiftly walking around you to set down the steaks he prepared. "In fact, perhaps it's the best plan to have them stop trying to pull me into their conversations during lunch."

Jokingly, you salute him with an ‘aye-aye, sir!’ and he rolls his eyes good-naturedly as the two of you settle down to dinner.

As though speaking it into existence manifested its occurrence, you have the opportunity to meet his coworkers when his car fails to turn on and you, gleefully, suggest calling a mechanic to look at it after you drive him to work.

(Things tend to work out for you, though you feel as though Alhaitham is the one that makes it happen one way or another. There is no one that has easily indulged you as much as Alhaitham.)

Neither you nor Alhaitahm are morning people, but for this morning, you are up bright and early, humming as you brew coffee and cook breakfast for the two of them. Knowing how late you ended up sleeping last night (habits are hard to break, after all), Alhaitham watches you, mildly bewildered at how much energy you have at seven in the morning.

"You seem inordinately excited to meet my coworkers,” Alhaitham says, sipping his coffee as you turn on the car.

You snort in laughter at his tone of voice. "I just want to meet the people you care about,” you say. Alhaitham cannot find it in himself to make a wry comment about it; your genuine warmth has ways of keeping his scathing words at bay, purposefully or not. You continue to speak as you drive, “So you told them we met through a matchmaker? Just checking that we’re matching stories.”

Alhaitham stares at you, knowing full well you can see him in your periphery. “...You’ve been watching too many dramas,” he says, making you laugh. He barely avoids the hand that swats at him.

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure!” You tell him, huffing. Alhaitham pulls out the book from the car storage cabinet and begins to read as you get onto the freeway. “I don’t know how close you are to your workplace and how much you wanted to tell them…” Alhaitham can’t help a small smile as hears you mumble, “Wouldn’t it be weird if we said different things? Though, it’s not like you’d ever lie about it…”

The commute is far from quiet, but Alhaitham finds that he does not mind.

It’s only when he gets to work that he finds that he minds quite a bit when your arrival reminds him of why he’s been avoiding the inevitable meeting between his friends and you. He knows there is no escaping the noise when the first person he sees upon entering the doors of his office is Kaveh.

“Oh, you’re early for once, Alhaitham,” Kaveh greets him. He looks past Alhaitham at you. “Wait, who’s this?”

Alhaitham takes a quick glance at you looking ready as ever before saying simply, “My fiancé.”

You wave cheerily at his coworkers (and friends) as they all stop to stare before the dam breaks. Alhaitham clicks his tongue and goes to clock in as you take meeting his coworkers (and friends) in stride. He doesn’t worry about you; you are more than capable of handling yourself.

You are not hard to love, after all.

You can tell your fiancé wants nothing more than to put his headphones on and escape to his office, so you pat his shoulder to allow him to walk away unscathed, though he doesn’t leave right away. You would have been fine meeting his friends alone, but you admit that his presence at your side is comforting, even if he hasn’t spoken a single word besides introducing you. He probably finds you more suited to dealing with these questions and you find that you don’t mind at all.

Apparently, you’ve chosen a good day to visit because you get to meet the entire Sumeru Corporations cast.

Kaveh must be the pretty blond that has Alhaitham actually speaking, even if it’s to snark at something he’s said. You haven’t heard as many stories about him as you think Kaveh may deserve, mainly because he has been absent from work for a period of time for an extended project and then a much-needed vacation. You think they’re pretty close, despite Alhaitham and Kaveh’s constant bantering. You can see a hint of a smile beneath Alhaitham’s sarcasm.

Knowing Alhaitham’s zero-tolerance policy for people he truly cannot stand, including Kaveh in his stories about work and as a character in his comparisons (though admittedly they all beret Kaveh’s poor decision making) means Alhaitham likes Kaveh. Enough to be his close friend, if not best friend, if you can say so yourself.

Tighnari is the one to first congratulate you on your engagement. You don’t mean to be taken aback by the warm wishes, but you’re unused to it. Having an arranged marriage the way you did with Alhaitham takes the surprise out of the engagement that any congratulations you expected were to be at the wedding itself. Hearing it from someone, Alhaitham’s friends in particular, has your cheeks warm with pleasant surprise. Fiancé feels like a foreign word on your lips, but the reality settles in that you are Alhaitham’s fiancé, and you are his. It makes you the slightest bit giddy, the wedding a more tangible reality than ever.

Nilou is not far from Tighnari from giving you congratulations. Her joy is infectious, and you find it hard not to match her energy. Just from her tone of voice and the way she carries herself, you can tell that she’s sweet. You secretly hope that she and Alhaitham work together often; you think the dynamic between the two of them would work quite well. That and you think it’s funny to imagine your stoic fiancé with the ever-cheery Nilou.

Cyno introduces himself with a firm handshake and the most dad-joke you’ve ever heard in your life. Something about his dry delivery and its unexpectedness takes you by surprise, and you laugh, much to the bewilderment of the entire room. You see in your peripheral vision the resigned expression on Alhaitham’s face and feel pleased to know that he knows that these jokes are definitely in your wheelhouse, much to his chagrin. You must be one of the only people in the office who has found Cyno’s jokes funny because Cyno looks at Tighnari with an ‘I told you so’ look that Tighnari refuses to acknowledge.

(Tighnari also gives you a glance mixed between disbelief and dawning realization, because he supposes if there is anyone that can have Alhaitham fall in love with, it would be someone like you.)

“They’re a great person,” Cyno says to Alhaitham seriously. “You chose well.”

“I certainly did not have the ability to laugh at your jokes as part of my criteria for a spouse,” Alhaitham replies dryly, ignoring the smug look that Dehya keeps trying to throw at him.

“I’m so glad I happened to visit the office today,” Candace says, clasping her hands. Both her and Dehya were equally excited to meet you, and it does not take long until you are pulled into a conversation with her as the others hound Alhaitham, teasing him. You watch with a fond smile as Alhaitham is (unwillingly) surrounded by his closest friends. For a moment the two of you meet eyes ,and you can see a small smile peek through his exasperation that was meant for only you to see.

You’re smitten.

“I’m glad,” Candace tells you, a kind smile on her face. “The two of you look happy together. May your marriage be ever lasting and peaceful.”

“Thank you,” you say. You take another look at Alhaitham and feel your heart squeeze with unbridled affection. “I hope that comes true too.”

Eventually Alhaitham tells his coworkers that you have work to go to (a lie) and that you have better things to do than entertain them (another lie). Expectedly, they are quick to call him out, though you suppose you didn’t help his case, glancing back at him forlornly like a lost puppy that has him shooting you an exasperated look.

“Share your fiancé a little, why don’t you?” Dehya complains, putting her hands onto your shoulders and pulling you further from the door. Alhaitham narrows his eyes at your betrayal when you only shrug innocently. “You get to have them all to yourself all the time, what’s fifteen minutes gonna do?”

“I was thinking we were supposed to be working for the past fifteen minutes,” Alhaitham says.

“Since when were you such an exemplary worker?”

“When has excellence been defined by overtime? I finish what is needed by the time my shift is over.”

“Since you’re here,” Candace pipes up, ignoring the two's back and forth. She brings a set of files under her arm she got from her office– you wonder when she had left to do so. “I was wondering if you could update Alhaitham’s demographics. I’m sure there are some things that have changed like his address, emergency contact…” You are not mistaken when you hear the twinge of slyness in her voice, and you feel yourself fluster when she giggles.

Emergency contact, huh? One of his parents must be his current emergency contact, or even his grandmother. You know it is common to have the spouse as the emergency contact, but well, you’re neither Alhaitham’s spouse (yet) nor bothered to concern yourself with what is ‘normal’ or ‘common’ when it comes to your unconventional fiancé. When you open your mouth to say you’re only going to change the address, Alhaitham tells you, “You only need to put your cell number. A work number isn’t necessary.”

“It is very much recommended if you can, but I understand if you can’t!” Candace provides helpfully, though you are still reeling at the permission given to add yourself onto the emergency contacts. You feel as though most would not make such a big deal out of it, but you are embarrassingly pleased at how Alhaitham expects you to be his emergency contact– the first one to be called when he needs it most.

You write down your number with a sense of great importance.

“Let me walk you to the entrance,” Alhaitham says once you finish filling out the form, much to your amusement.

“Hold up, so soon?” Dehya says, grinning. “We didn’t even get to ask your fiancé if you’ve been good to them yet.”

At this, Kaveh scoffs. “That’s for sure. Speaking from experience, Alhaitham was never the best roommate out there.”

“The same could be said with you,” Alhaitham shoots back. “Have you outgrown the habit of doing DIY projects until dawn or have your neighbors finally grown tired of filing noise complaints?”

“You-! At least I don’t leave a mess everywhere I go!”

“Do you mean his books?” You ask, and you try not to fidget when they all turn to you. “He used to leave them in a lot of places, but he’s been really good at putting them in his bookshelves when he’s done.” You laugh. “I think he’s just afraid I’ll spill some food onto it.”

At this, Kaveh gives Alhaitham a long look that Alhaitham returns equally. “I guess even marriage changes people like Alhaitham, huh?” He comments with a hint of amusement.

“I have a question!” Nilou says, raising her hand. You can’t help but smile at the gesture. “Are those baubles in Alhaitham’s office gifts from you?”

You blink. “The what?”

“Oh, you mean the drinking bird and Newton's Cradle?” Tighnari asks. “They appeared suddenly one day, and I’ve been wondering if he purchased it himself, but now that I think about it, of course he didn’t.”

You remember buying those gifts for Alhaitham, but when you didn’t see them at home, you assumed he stored them away; out of sight, out of mind, after all. Whatever Alhaitham wanted to do with your gifts is to his discretion, but the fact he brought them to work to decorate his (most likely) minimalist desk makes you a little happy.

“Wasn’t there a small dish with a few marbles in them too?” Cyno comments. When he shares a look with Tighnari, his smile grows. “I remember them showing up the same time as the other two…”

“I got those for him too,” you say. “I thought they looked like the color of his eyes.” You vaguely hear Nilou and Candace coo at your words, but you only have eyes for Alhaitham. “I didn’t know you had them here,” you say, warmth seeping into your voice.

For a moment, Alhaitham opens his mouth without saying a single word. It is only a momentary lapse, but you grin up at him when it happens, spotting the hint of color on his cheeks. “If I had thrown them away, you would have noticed them in the trash,” Alhaitham says, and you have to admit the man has an impressive recovery rate.

“Oh yeah,” you say lightly, and you can see the dawning realization on Alhaitham’s face as he sees what you intend to say next. “Like that inflatable boyfriend I got you-”

Kaveh laughs suddenly as though it was surprised out of him. “What-?” He wheezes. “Are you talking about those-”

“I ended his misery before he could come to full fruition,” Alhaitham says flatly, and you can’t help but laugh with the rest of his friends. “I was merciful. He should be grateful to me, actually.”

(What happened to never needing thanks from anyone? Kaveh thinks, his shoulder shaking from the residual laughter as Alhaitham finally successfully wrangles you from the office’s grasp and toward the exit. Kaveh watches as the two of you talk to each other easily, your smile never leaving your face as you look up at Alhaitham and Alhaitham’s hand not once letting go of yours as he guides you.

He is gentle with you, Kaveh notes, and he wonders if you realize how you are possibly one of the only people in the world to have been allowed to see this side of him.

Kaveh was joking earlier, but he was a little serious too, that marriage has changed Alhaitham just the tiniest bit. Or not marriage specifically, he thinks. Love is a more powerful motivator, and he knows full well that Alhaitham is as susceptible to emotion as anyone else, even if he pretends not to be.

He wonders if he’ll be allowed to have a say in the wedding decorations.)

For both your sake and his (though mainly his), Alhaitham prevents you from getting held back by his friends and walks you out as far as it’s allowed without leaving the building. He realizes that this is one of the few times that he has held your hand, and he knows you don’t mind when you squeeze his hand as the two of you walk past the receptionist. It feels as equally novel as it is natural, and Alhaitham knows immediately this is something that the two of you will get used to doing very quickly.

Alhaitham hears you laugh to yourself again and he huffs in amusement. “You seem happy,” he says. When you nod in agreement, he continues, “I’m sure you probably have a lot of reasons, but can I ask why anyways?”

You smile up at him, beautiful as always. Alhaitham feels his chest tighten for a moment, and it is gone as fast as it came. “You told them I was your fiancé,” you tell him with a hint of bashfulness.

“Yes,” he says, “because you are.”

At this, you just shrug, the smile never leaving your face. “It’s just nice to hear, is all.” He feels you squeeze his hand again before letting go. “Alright, well, I’ll see you later tonight when I pick you up?”

Alhaitham opens his mouth to speak but finds that it takes him a moment to say something, distracted by how his heart picked up its pace for seemingly no reason at all. “Yes, I get off at exactly five, so whenever you can come around that time would be fine.”

“Okay,” you say. The two of you stand face-to-face and for a moment it looks as though you had tip-toed to do something but changed your mind. Your lips press together into a complicated smile before you shake your head. “See you then!” You tell him before he can understand what you meant to do.

Alhaitham watches as you walk to your car. When you turn back to look at him (somehow, he knew that you would) and wave, he feels his heartbeat loudly in his ears.

*Mulan reference: "Now all of China knows you're here."

taglist:

@crowbird @thetwinkims @jaguarthecat @kibbly-bibbly @tanspostsblog @dxstopiaa @theprinceofkhaos @homeinhobii @nagisuterus @sleep-deprivedracoon @scentedcandlesandcookies @secretlyrexlapis @yoimyas @teapartyspilled @herbal-tea-and-manga @quintessentialdreaming @detectivesparrow @certaindreampost @kazuharem @pixelsocs @nekogakuro @escapeis @loki-zos-galvus

#alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x reader #i enjoyed adding the sumeru crew in a lot!!!! that was fun #BEHOLD another finished chapter it be getting longer #much love to those that like this fic <333

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yubnubforhire · 9 months

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I’ve seen a lot of people decry criticism of the rwrb movie as simply either homophobic or anti-cringe, with the statement ‘let queer people have our cringe rom-coms’ a common defense. This idea is flawed for many reasons, not least of which being that this movie is like… barely queer. Sure it’s about a queer couple, but that’s about where it stops.

First off there’s the blatant bi erasure, with no discussion of Nora’s sexuality, no June/Nora/Pez, the word bisexual only being used once or twice in the whole movie, etc. Second off is the complete lack of queer education or community: where is Alex learning about the gay lib movement and feeling like he understands something new, deep within himself? Where is Henry talking about his role amongst the erased queer figures of the past? Where are the crowds supporting both of them, in the US and the UK? (the scene at buckingham where you don’t even see the crowd felt so cheap) Where was Amy’s role as queer elder and protector? Where was Luna, and Alex’s realization as to why he looked up to him so much and why his betrayal hurt so bad? Where was Alex realizing he and Liam had actually ‘had a thing’ when they were younger, and reconnecting with him as someone who can fully be himself? Where was all the support when they got outed? Where the fuck was Catherine? Where were Bea and Catherine fighting for them during the confrontation at buckingham? Movie!firstprince feel so isolated and without community, which is just SO not the world CMQ created in the book.

More broadly, the movie just felt so shallow. I completely understand the need for adaptation and translation to a new medium, but so many of the things they changed either lower the stakes or remove them entirely. Bea is a non-character, with no depth or backstory. Nora only exists to tell Alex to fuck Henry. Pez gets all of one line in the entire movie. June does not exist, which should completely change things because Alex does not act like the only/eldest child of the POTUS. We never really see the emails and a lot of them are adapted to onscreen dialogue, so what exactly was leaked? Why are they called the Waterloo letters? No one watching the movie alone will know. Who leaked them? I figure the movie implies it was Miguel, but then why have Richards be a character at all? CMQ was making a point with the Richards/Luna story, and the movie having a new side character as the “villain” is just… so disappointing. We don’t see any of the scenes of Henry acknowledging how fucked up the monarchy is (other than a few throwaway jokes), the comparison to the Empire, any of the Bea storyline, or him trying to avoid military service and renounce his royal inheritance, so the one line towards the end when movie!Henry has an outburst about the monarchy being antiquated is just completely unearned and comes out of nowhere.

They kept the line where Oscar tells Alex that ‘sometimes you just have to jump and hope it’s not a cliff’ but it’s now completely devoid of the context— that line is about Oscar telling Alex he doesn’t regret getting together with Ellen, no matter how it ended. It doesn’t work the same if Oscar and Ellen are still happily married! (Justice for Leo also tbh)

In the confrontation at Buckingham, the king (don’t get me started on the things they changed to avoid comparisons to queen liz) still suggests to Henry that they should claim the leaks are deepfakes and deny it, but Alex already gave the live televised speech in the movie timeline! It’s out already! The entire scene with the king honestly just does not work if Alex has already made the speech. Also side note, there’s absolutely no way in turbohell that Alex would make that speech without talking to Henry first.

There’s so much more I could talk about, from more script shenanigans to the Pip of it all, but this is honestly already way too long. All I want to say now is that it’s obviously everyone’s prerogative to like a movie or not, and nothing anyone else says should change the way you personally feel about a piece of art. That does not mean, however, that any criticism of said art is incorrect or unwarranted. You can like something and still acknowledge its flaws. And no, cringiness is not this movie’s main flaw.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #don’t like don’t read #seriously!#you’re entitled to love this movie and watch it dozens of times #but it’s not immune from criticism #I really wanted to love this movie #but there are just some books that do not and will never work as movies #everything was so rushed #on top of everything else #there was no space to breathe and fall for these characters #rwrb #red white and royal blue movie #rwrb spoilers

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sungbeam · 1 year

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𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

model!choi chanhee x fem!assistant!reader

you were just supposed to be his assistant, but at some point, you'd come to mean a lot more to him.

6.4k words (WHOOPS my hand slipped), technically s2l, fluff, angst if u squint, slight pining?, kissing, model stuff and first world problems 😔✨, like one curse word, barely proofread

a/n: istg it wasn't supposed to be like this ;-; it would have been longer but i got impatient </3

Choi Chanhee once made a girl cry because she had forgotten his phone in the car. In his defense, he hadn't gotten much shuteye the night prior, but Kevin liked to always remind him of that instance.

They said that was the first, true moment the tabloids began painting him in a new light.

'Choi Chanhee, Model-zilla, Hits the Streets of Paris for Fashion Week Once Again'. 'Choi Chanhee's Ex-assistants Come Forward with Shocking Experiences'. 'Satin or Silk: the Truth Behind New's Refusal to Wear Alexander McQueen'.

The last one didn't even make sense; Alexander McQueen only used silk, anyway, and Chanhee had walked in one of his shows a few years ago. Chanhee simply hadn't the time to pen the designer into his schedule since.

The one about assistants? Well, they were all entitled to free speech, but that didn't mean that he would spare them any mercy if they decided to blatantly lie about him. He could always trust Lee Sangyeon, his personal attorney, to take care of business, if and when any of his ex-employees decided that a good payout was comparable to spewing filth.

Then there was you.

Chanhee hadn't needed a new assistant in a little over half a year since you came along. Fresh out of university with a bachelor's in communication and punctuality, you waltzed into his life, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You'd sat across from him, no-nonsense; he hired you right there. (He had not regretted it since. This was the last time he would let anyone but himself do the interview process.)

The best part about you was not that you always had his schedule memorized before he did, or that you appeared at his apartment before the car picked you both up with his favorite coffee order, or that you actually had decent taste in perfume—not… that he paid attention to what perfume you wore—but it was the fact that you could look him in the eye when he spoke to you, and you to him.

"—and you have a fitting with Chanel at five o'clock this evening right after that meeting with Maison Margiela about the perfume line. We'll have just enough time to—"

Wow, your eyes were pretty in this lighting, he thought. The two of you sat before the massive, floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment. The entire city laid sprawling at your feet while you sat across from each other at his breakfast table, eating blueberry muffins and drinking lattes.

And for some reason, all he could think about was how nice your hair looked again today, how brilliantly the shine in your eyes was from the sunlight, how impeccable your fashion sense was—even if it wasn't perfect, but that could easily be remedied. Chanhee would have to remind you to remind him to—

"Chanhee. Chanhee, are you listening to me?"

He snapped out with a flutter of his long eyelashes. He reached for his cup of coffee, delicately bringing it to his lips. "Hm? Of course, Maison and then Chanel. Did Changmin cancel our dinner or are we still on?"

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips when he saw how your expression lightened knowing that he was paying attention. You idly stirred your latte around with a little silver spoon. "He says he's still good to go for tonight. Same place, same time."

A nod. "Good."

He nudged up the Prada sunglasses on his nose as he turned his head slightly to gaze out the open window. It was an awfully beautiful day out today. The sunlight was gentle, the skies were an azure wave of silk, sewn with clouds of white. "Yn, dearest, are we clear until the Maison meeting?"

You blinked. "Yes," you answered, checking your watch for the hour, "it's 10:32 right now."

"Mm, that gives us about five hours to refresh your wardrobe."

Your lips parted, and he smiled in amusement. There was something so adorable about your flustered state. "Excuse me?"

"Call it a little token of my appreciation," he sang, standing up from the table to deposit his empty plate and cup into the kitchen sink. "Could you call the driver to round the front?"

"Oh, uh, sure—"

"Thanks, love. I'll be back in a few," he called to you just as he disappeared into his bedroom to freshen up. You were left at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. You'd only ever gone shopping with Chanhee for him or for someone else. Not you. You were always on the clock when you were with him, and you figured he would probably take everything you bought today out of your paycheck, but…

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest like the wings of a butterfly. This could either be the best thing that happened to you… or a complete shitshow.

There was something odd about walking into one of Chanhee's go-to leisure shopping stores—Dior—with the mindset that you were supposed to be shopping for yourself. Chanhee had asked the driver to pull up to the Dior storefront even as the regular paparazzi camped outside.

Your eyes gazed longingly at the Macy's across the mall.

Chanhee followed your gaze with a little scrunch of his nose. "Absolutely not," he clicked his tongue, dragging you out of the vehicle and to the sidewalk.

The press already dubbed you a "miracle" for being in his employ for longer than a day. But when they got shots of him literally hauling you into the Dior… you could imagine what they would all claim now. This was going to be a whole lot of cleanup, but you had learned after months of working with Chanhee that he was way tougher than he looked. He also didn't mind biting back.

When the two of you were safely stowed away within the guarded interior of Dior, you breathed easier.

Straightening, you greeted the staff members with a shallow bow, who did the same to both you and your boss.

Chanhee wiggled his fingers in silent greeting, then beelined for a white, quilted blazer on a mannequin. A worker scrambled after him to talk about the piece while another stuck by your side to make small conversation.

"How was your morning?" They asked you pleasantly.

"Oh, it was quite nice! How was yours?"

"Pretty quiet," they smiled. They were about to say something else when both of you were interrupted with Chanhee calling your name.

His eyes were pinned to you from over the rim of his sunglasses. Draped over his arm was a tapered coat of some sort, a dress, and… oh, god no. "Yn, come here."

You could already hear your wallet crying. "Chanhee, I literally cannot afford a single thing in here—"

He pressed a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you in the direction of the dressing rooms. "That's besides the point because I can afford them; that's what matters."

Surprise made your footing falter. "Huh?"

"Silly Yn-ie," he teased, "did you think I was gonna bring you all the way out here to not treat you?" Before you could say anything else, he was shoving the items into your arms, and your body into the grandiose space of the Dior dressing room. He winked over his glasses. "Now hurry and put them on. I wanna see!"

He ripped the curtain closed, and you stood there for a moment.

In your hands were the jacket, the dress, and a pair of shoes that probably cost you more than your entire bank account combined. You blew out a puff of air, just as you heard a staff member offer him a glass of champagne on the other side of the curtain.

"No getting out of this, Yn," you muttered to yourself, then began hanging everything up."

Chanhee was no stranger to the effect he had on people. In fact, he wielded it like a dagger. It was how he had gotten so far in this industry in the first place other than his immaculate good looks, of course. The face of an angel and an attitude of the devil—at least, that was what one article had said about him. He quite liked it, actually.

There was something wholly different about his effect on you as you stood beneath his scrutinizing, heated gaze, as you tried on piece upon piece. He loved being able to unabashedly stare at you, to take in your flustered expression as you did little spins for him in the outfit of choice. For once, you couldn't look him in the eye, and when you had done so once, it had been when his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

It wasn't just the champagne he was tasting.

It was the next morning when you appeared in his home at 7 o'clock sharp, as usual, but with a new accessory hanging off your arm. It was one of the more low-key purses he had bought you yesterday—and to be honest, it was actually one of his personal favorites. It was a Chanel one, of course, and it complimented your pant suit quite nicely.

"Morning," you chirped, handing him his cup of coffee as he stumbled out of his room in a silk robe and with a yawn widening his mouth.

Chanhee smiled at the sight of you, graciously accepting the coffee from you. He leaned against the countertop next to you. "Good morning," he murmured lowly, peering at you over the rim of the cup, taking a languid sip.

He sighed as the caffeine began working its magic. "How are you this morning, dearest? Have a good night?"

You had set your purse down on the island, then moved away from him only to go check his refrigerator to see if he needed anything restocked. Always so attentive. "I had a good night. How was dinner with Changmin?"

"Lovely," he said fondly. "I see you are putting my gifts to use." His fingers danced along the gold chain draped along one end of the quilted leather.

He swore your cheeks flushed, but then again, his eyes had never tricked him for a second. "Ah, yes. Thank you so much for yesterday, by the way." The fridge closed softly, and you grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter to wash and munch on. "I really don't know how I can repay you—"

Chanhee dismissed you immediately, his wrist flicking outward. "Pfft, none of that. I told you it was all a token of my affection," he grinned, propping his chin onto his palm across the island counter from you. "And gratitude," he added. "I don't say this to just anyone, Yn, and I don't buy just anyone all that stuff—but I did it because I appreciate you."

Your chewing slowed and you swallowed. "Oh."

He said it so easily. God, was he lucky to have met you.

Knowing he had successfully rendered you speechless once more, he laughed lightly, deciding to change the subject. "What's today's schedule like?"

You immediately straightened; this was something you knew like the back of your hand. It was much more up your alley.

As you ran him through his activities today, you failed to notice the difference in his posture, the softer smile on his face, and the way his eyes could not leave you for a moment, not even to drink his coffee.

Grueling was an understatement. Today had been one of the worst days of your working existence under Chanhee's employ. You'd endured rough days and nights before, but today, it seemed to have been hassle after hassle after hassle. You probably got around thirty-thousand steps by how much you ran around trying to find emergency kits and emergency outfits and running to the emergency dry cleaner's.

As much as the fashion world enthralled you, sometimes you wondered how anyone could survive it.

Chanhee was just as maxed out as you were by the end. It was maybe three in the morning by the time the two of you collapsed into the backseat of his driver's car. Streets were barren at this time in the ungodly hours of morning, and your joints ached every time you breathed.

Chanhee was quiet as well as he leaned his head back against the headrest to allow his body some rest. He just barely managed to get through that last shoot—clearly the directors had no clue what they were doing, he thought with a dead look in his eyes. That was how he felt—dead. If it hadn't been for you swooping in with a creative direction…

You were brilliant; that much he was certain of. Without you, that shoot might have dragged on for another couple of hours, or Chanhee would have just walked out. Usually, he had a good sense and eye for things, but with everything that happened today, for once, he didn't have the energy to yell or direct.

He needed to treat you to brunch tomorrow, if he was even able to wake up in time—

His inner thoughts halted when he felt a sudden weight fall upon his left shoulder. He froze up.

Your head had slumped onto his shoulder, eyes closed and no doubt deep asleep. Your bangs had fallen out from the bounds of your ponytail and draped across your face as you slept. He could smell the Miss Dior on you with this proximity.

Chanhee smiled to himself, taking his other hand and brushing the hair from your face and gently caressing your cheek. "Cute," he murmured.

By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of his complex, Chanhee had made a couple of executive decisions.

He lightly roused you from your sleep, cooing into your ear, "Come on, Yn-ie. Let's get you to bed, hm?"

You hummed, lifting your head from his shoulder with a yawn. You rubbed your eye with no care for the makeup smudging. "Chanhee? Why're you still here?"

Normally, the driver would drop Chanhee off first and then you, especially when it came to late nights like this. But… what… was happening?

Chanhee helped you out of the car, thanking the driver while mustering up a kind smile for him. "You're too tired, love. I'm taking you upstairs to my place."

"Wait, I can't—" but you weren't physically protesting; your body ached and ached and ached. But this was your boss, your employer. This wasn't professional.

"Yn, you're exhausted," he countered, buzzing into the building and helping you inside.

You couldn't argue with him anymore. You just wanted your face to hit a pillow and be out for the night. "Okay," you mumbled, letting him press your face into his shoulder on the ride up the elevator.

"Good girl," he sighed. He tilted his head back against the elevator wall, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other cradling the back of your head. Just a little longer, then the both of you could finally get some well-deserved rest.

You would argue you had seen Choi Chanhee at some of his best and worst moments. He was one of the most beautiful human beings on this planet, and yet, none of the prior moments could even compare to when you stumbled out of his bedroom to the sight of his back to you as he fried eggs and ladled waffle batter into the maker in the kitchen. He had a big T-shirt hanging from his lean frame, as well as a pair of loose pajama pants on, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for everything to cook.

Even at ten in the morning, the light pink waves of his hair looked immaculately styled. You almost forgot he hadn't gotten a perm in awhile.

The panic of waking up in his sheets instead of yours had faded when you recalled your conversation with him just seven hours prior. He had managed to wrestle you into an extra set of sleepwear he just had lying around (Gucci, nonetheless), before he deposited you onto his bed, then promptly curled up outside on the living room couch.

You swallowed. Now what?

It was then that Chanhee turned around with an innocent look on his face. You watched as it melted into something softer at the sight of you. "Good morning, dearest," he beamed, "sleep well?"

Drowsiness lingered at the corners of your eyes, but you somehow managed a nod. "Yeah, how about you?" You asked him quietly. Actually, that had been some of the best sleep you'd ever had. Something about his sheets with high thread count and the smell of Chanhee lingering on everything. But you weren't just about to say that to him.

"Well enough," he replied. He waved you over. "Come sit; breakfast is almost ready."

Your eyes widened a smidge. That was for you? Now you really needed to go home. "Ah, I appreciate it, but I've practically overstayed my welcome—"

He sent you a look. "Yn, come have breakfast with me."

You caved. Because at this point, you'd already screwed yourself over. And breakfast really did smell nice; what was the difference between Chanhee making you breakfast and you bringing him breakfast from the café down the street?

(You didn't even want to go home, as much as your logical brain was trying to urge you towards.)

So the two of you breakfasted, and for a moment, you could forget, for once, that you were just supposed to be his assistant.

Some things changed after that morning, and Chanhee found himself getting you to stay over more and more often. Even if he had to come up with something stupid like "You haven't watched the 2001 New York Fashion Week rerun?" For some reason, you bought into all his excuses, and even though he knew it was probably because you were always attentive to his needs, a part of him liked to fantasize that you felt it, too.

The pull.

Something had shifted after that morning when he made you breakfast and the two of you ate together at the breakfast table. Sleep had lingered in your eyes, and your hair was a mess, but it was soft and beautiful and… he'd never been so in awe at someone's "I woke up like this" look.

His heart had leapt at the sight of you in those pajamas with that subtle pout to your lips.

God, he thought he might sweep you into his arms and kiss y—

"New. Chanhee. Choi Chanhee—"

He blinked, lifting his eyes from his menu to meet Changmin's. "Hm?"

Changmin wrinkled his nose at him, adjusting the sunglasses seated atop his head to hang from the collar of his dress shirt. (How it managed to hang with two buttons popped open, Chanhee chalked it up to fashion magic.) "You're awfully quiet today. What, tabloids finally shut you up?" He joked.

Chanhee rolled his eyes. "One of these days, I swear, they will render me speechless with their ridiculous delusions," he muttered airily, half-heartedly skimming the menu again.

He and Changmin were seated at their usual booth in their usual restaurant at their usual time. It was their weekly dinner together, something they had kept up since their university days in order to keep themselves grounded. They, of course, touched base with all of their university friends often, but the two of them were two peas in a pod. They even refused to let Sunwoo in on these weekly dinners specifically (something the younger friend was undoubtedly salty about).

Changmin could figure out when Chanhee was occupied with something other than the present. Usually, he was all up and out of his seat dealing out gossip or what torture he and you had been… oh.

Changmin cocked his head to the side, nostrils flaring slightly as he tried and failed to suppress a sly smile. "How's Yn these days?" He asked nonchalantly, lowering his eyes to the menu in front of him even though he always got the same thing every time.

To his credit, Chanhee didn't even react. "She's lovely as always. Why do you ask?"

"I dunno," Changmin drawled, "you haven't gushed about her like you usually do. I feel like you hang out with her more than me."

Chanhee raised a brow at his friend. "She's my assistant; of course I'm going to spend more time with her."

"Yeah, but—"

"And she's a lot more agreeable most of the time."

"Hey!"

Chanhee grinned in impish delight. "You asked."

Changmin sent him a stink eye, huffing as he raised his hand up to summon a waiter. "Yeah, whatever. Okay, but you literally refused to go out with me the other night, and when I texted Yn if you had a schedule, she said that you two were at home!"

That got his attention. Chanhee pursed his lips together, sheepishness peering through his smile. "In my defense, she hadn't seen New York Fashion Week in 2001."

"You hated that year, Chanhee."

"Exactly."

Changmin sighed to himself, and just as he was about to add on, a waiter came by to take their order. Once that was done, Changmin laced his fingers over the table and leveled his friend with a pointed look.

"Just admit that you like her."

Oh, Changmin. If only you could hear the rapid palpitations of his heart when you called him out like that. Chanhee blinked innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he swallowed.

It wasn't even two days later that Chanhee had you staying a little later at his place, once again. There was something jazzy and vibey playing in the background, while Chanhee finished up plating dinner and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. You were over at the small table by the window pouring wine into twin glasses, your hair pulled haphazardly out of your face (for the most part) with a pearl-studded claw clip from Chanhee's personal PR box.

(You blatantly refused, but he then reminded you that he couldn't even use the clip himself.)

Chanhee didn't often think about sharing his life with someone, but it was moments like these—moments when he heard you hum under your breath, moments when the two of you could laugh about the day over dinner, moments when you weren't just his assistant but someone closer—that he could indulge himself. He wasn't a very domestic person; since childhood, he dreamed of places far away from home, seeing sights and experiencing cultures… but if he could come home to you? And experience this every time?

Suddenly dinner was over, and you were collecting dirty dishware and glasses to bring to the sink to wash.

"Yn-ie, hey, I can wash those—"

"No, no! You made dinner; I am washing dishes," you asserted, pushing him away from the sink when he tried to come up to you.

Chanhee broke into a laugh, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders and rub the upper parts of your arms. "Okay, okay. Thanks, love," he said. He didn't even think before he pressed a kiss to your cheek and walked off to go to the bathroom.

Your cheek tingled where his lips had been, and you turned the faucet on to drown out the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears. What was happening?

You felt like you were floating on air as you hummed to the music and washed the dishes, with the ghost of Chanhee's lips left lingering on your cheek. It served as a reminder of your growing affections for him. This was dangerous, dangerous territory, and yet… it was thrilling. It was new, bold, and delectable. It was Chanhee, for goodness sake.

He was the man you saw crying drunkenly over a cat video on TikTok, the man who lended you Gucci pajamas and his bed for the night. He was on the face of every magazine cover, always excited when you could read his mind about a certain piece of clothing. Everyone in the world wanted to be him or be with him. He was so out of reach, yet right in front of you.

Maybe it was the wine making your head buzz with this wave of unmitigated sentimentality.

You finished up with the dishes, drying off your hands with the towel hanging on the oven door. Chanhee sang your name out from somewhere deep inside his bedroom, and you followed his voice to his location.

He was seated on the rug in the middle of his walk-in closet, the white LEDs washing you with light. It was a far cry from the darkness of his bedroom and the warmth from the kitchen. Chanhee patted the spot next to him on the carpet, where he had a smattering of PR gifts littering the floor around him.

Curious, you lowered yourself next to him. "Are we sorting through PR stuff?" You asked, already making a mental catalog of all the things he'd probably want to keep and the things he'd want to donate.

Chanhee hummed his dissent, rising onto his knees and shuffling over to you. Your eyes widened as he stopped close to you and you held your breath. He raised a pair of twin diamond drop earrings from Tiffany and Co to your earlobes, eyes narrowed in consideration.

"No," he muttered, dumping the earrings into their box, then digging out another.

You scrambled to delicately put the earrings back into their proper holdings. "Chanhee, what are we doing?"

"You—" Chanhee returned with a pair of sapphire earrings this time, performing the same ritual as before, but this time smiling, "—are going to sit still and look pretty for me. I am going through the PR stuff for anything nice."

"Anything nice?" You parroted in disbelief. It wasn't like he just threw a pair of diamond earrings into a box like it wasn't nice, or anything.

"I've never seen you in pearls before," he said offhandedly. From a black velvet bag, he withdrew a string of pearls clasped at the end in gold. His mouth parted in awe, and you suddenly thought of how cute he looked. Chanhee, oftentimes, was attractive and elegant and spellbinding—but this Chanhee was adorable.

He eyeballed it around your neck, then moved to clasp the collar onto you. He brushed the stray strands of hair away from the nape of your neck, gently grazing the pads of his fingers along the warm skin there. The action sent a shudder down your spine, and you were reminded of the cheek kiss from earlier.

"There," he murmured, coming back around to inspect you from the front. "Looks much better on you than it would on me."

You scoffed, reaching up to touch the cool pearls seated on your collarbone. "I disagree wholeheartedly."

He had turned around to go digging again, but the grin he threw over his shoulder at you was a certified heart stopper. "Then we'll just have to go get me a matching one."

"This is the last time I'm letting a company get me lunch," Chanhee grimaced as both you and he feverishly dabbed at the sauce splattered on his cream silk blouse.

One of the interns working on today's interview and shoot had come to deliver him his lunch when you noticed that the sauce lid on top was a dark red and not the usual light mayo Chanhee always requested beforehand. That, as well as the fact that the lid wasn't fastened all the way. Suffice to say that when you were about to point it out, said intern became flustered at Chanhee's side profile and spilled his lunch onto him.

You made sure to send the intern away before Chanhee could react.

"This was the Burberry one Haknyeonie got me," he whimpered in devastation as he took in the mess of dark brownish-red on his chest.

"Hey, it's okay. The cleaner I usually go to can fix it up," you said, biting your lip and assessing the situation. You gave a sigh, straightening, then swiping at the dampness on your forehead. "For now, you'll have to change into something else."

Chanhee pouted. "I promised I would wear this one for the interview…" He glanced back over at the clothing rack in the far corner of the dressing room at the dozens of options he had, as well as the backups you had brought, when all he wanted was to wear the shirt Haknyeon had given to him.

You wondered how long you had until the interview. You wondered how fast you could run to the dry cleaners and how fast they could fix this, if only to make that pout on Chanhee's face go away.

He pursed his lips. "I'll change into the YSL one," he resolved, standing from his vanity chair to go grab the YSL blouse from its garment bag. "Y'know," he said to you as he disappeared behind the changing divider, "we'll probably see something about this in the tabloids sometime tomorrow, depending on how bored the press people are."

You leaned back against the vanity counter, mentally noting the time. Hair and makeup would be here soon since the interview was set for half past noon. Chanhee would have to wait until afterwards before he could eat lunch. You frowned, "It wasn't your fault, Chanhee."

"I know." You saw him drape the dirtied Burberry blouse over the top of the divider and you walked over to take it down and inspect the damage yourself. "But it doesn't have to be my fault."

Unfortunately, he was right. The press would do anything for a juicy story, even if that meant twisting the facts just a little. You abhorred those stories; you always saw Chanhee's eyes glaze over like a shield at the "model-zilla" headlines, when in fact, it had little to do with Chanhee's "attitude". You wondered if someone would blow up his reaction to this out of proportion—he hadn't said anything to the intern before they ran out of the room in tears, but you supposed if you had spilled coffee on someone with as much name power as Chanhee, then you would also freak out.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, leaning slightly against the divider. A weight sank into the pit of your gut; you felt pathetic. These were one of the few things you couldn't just fix for him.

You thought you felt him lean back against the divider on the other side. "Nothing to be sorry for, dearest. It's just a shirt."

It wasn't just a shirt. It wasn't just the tabloids.

Chanhee, being the professional he was, carried on through the interview and subsequent photoshoot with elegance and grace. He wasn't in a bad mood, save for the slight melancholy in his smile when the intern's superior came by to apologize profusely and offer to have the blouse dry-cleaned for him. Chanhee politely declined—he only trusted one person with his items.

When you and Chanhee finally made it back to his penthouse suite, the sun had disappeared into the seams of the horizon, hoisting a bejeweled night into the sky. Chanhee collapsed onto the couch face-first while you dropped everything on the floor by the door and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"I'm making tea," you declared.

Chanhee raised his head slightly. "Me too please."

You got the electric kettle started and brought out two porcelain mugs. While you waited for the water to finish boiling, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check your messages to see if the dry cleaners had alerted you yet as to the status of the blouse. On the way back, you had swung by to get the shirt to the dry cleaners. Hopefully it would be done by tomorrow morning so you could go pick it up.

Chanhee shifted and adjusted his positioning on the couch. He sat upright, leaning his cheek against his fist. "Yn-ie."

"Hm?"

"I'm lonely over here."

You huffed air out of your nostrils in a silent chuckle, but obliged him and went over to the couch. He raised his arms up toward you, making grabby hands and pouting. "You're lonely?" You repeated in amusement, slotting yourself next to him and allowing him to curl into your side.

"Well, not anymore," he said into your shoulder.

The apartment filled with the sound of water bubbling on the stove and the muffled sounds of the city outside the window.

With nothing said, you could imagine for a second that this was not your job, but your life instead.

You felt him move a little, his arms wrapping around your stomach. "Thank you," he murmured, "for everything."

Your chest tightened. "Of course," you replied simply. Because doing all of this for him was as easy as breathing air now. Taking care of him had become as easy as breathing air. It was just that simple.

He was quiet again, fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of your blazer. Something lingered in his mind.

"Yn…" He slowly brought himself to sit up straight, one hand braced on the cushion space between your bodies and the other on the back of the couch. His face was so close—you could see the baby pink hairs falling in his eyes, the bits of glitter on his eyelids, the length of his lashes brushing his cheeks. But there was something wobbling, shimmering in his irises like the ripples in a pool of water. "I think we need to talk."

Your voice was trapped in your throat. He was going to fire you. He was going to tell you that all of it had been a lie. He was going to—stop. Stop freaking out. You knew him. You knew him better than what the people on the outside only claimed to know about him. You gulped. "Okay."

Chanhee brought his hand up toward your face, but instead stopped short, his hand dropping. He wet his lip, head ducking for a second before meeting your eyes again. "You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right?"

Oh no.

You nodded shallowly, hands clasped in your lap. "Mhm."

"And you know that I would rather hurt myself before ever hurting you?"

You didn't like where this was going. "Chanhee—"

His eyes shuddered. "Just—just listen for a second. I promise I'll let you speak, just… I just need to get this out."

"I can't really think straight," you croaked. His cologne—god his cologne. You would die suffocating in his cologne, but he was so close and yet so out of reach.

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry—" He was leaning back now, and you were internally hitting yourself. You'd never heard Choi Chanhee stutter before.

You resisted the urge to say "come back". Come back, where you could pretend that he was yours. Shit, this had gone too far. "Chanhee, I think I have to quit."

Alarm shot his eyes wide open. "What?"

"I can't keep working for you because I have feelings for you," you blurted, staring him straight in the eyes. "I have to quit because the feelings—the want—I have for you are so strong and precariously unprofessional. And I'm sorry, because this was the best job I could've ever gotten, but—"

Chanhee grabbed your face and crushed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up. Shock had you freezing, but it wasn't long before you held him close and let him wholly devour you.

When he pulled away, his forehead was pressed against yours, the space between your lips near nonexistent. His hands were still cupping the sides of your face and his breathing was slightly labored; all either of you could feel, hear, smell, taste were each other.

"I love you," he whispered, almost inaudibly you thought you'd imagined it. But then he said it again, "I love you", and everything…

Everything settled.

"How could you?" After all, you were just… you. It seemed impossible that someone as high as he was could love someone like you.

His reply was simple, paired with a sweet return to your lips. "How could I not?"

You stood outside the massive, sky-piercing high-rise of Vogue headquarters, your heart pounding in your ears and your fingers drumming nervously against the seam of your dress pants. In about twenty minutes, you would be in the topmost office of the building interviewing for a chance to become CEO Anna Wintour's newest personal assistant.

"Well?"

You glanced over to your left where Chanhee stepped beside you, asking the driver to make a loop around the building and meet him back here in a few minutes. His hair, freshly dyed a silken midnight black, had grown slightly to mullet-length; and this morning, he was clad in a pristine white suit set in a classy contrast. A pearl collar sat on his defined collarbones like it was a throne. Beautiful, as always.

There were reporters lurking around here somewhere. That definitely didn't make any of this better for you.

You released a breath. "I've got this, right?"

He passed you a gentle, yet teasing grin. "Hey, you survived me. How much worse can she be?"

That made you crack a smile.

The two of you stood side by side staring up at the building for a moment longer. After you had quit being his assistant to instead be accepted as his partner, you and Chanhee worked to find you a new gig. You received about a hundred dozen job offers from lesser brands and big names when they all heard you were leaving Chanhee's employ on good terms. Anyone who survived Chanhee, and left with a stellar recommendation letter, was a hot commodity.

Chanhee reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers slightly. "Breathe, darling. You'll be in and out and hired before you know it."

He turned you around so you faced him. His tongue stuck out between his lips as he adjusted the pearl necklace around your throat, then the lapels of your jacket. "Wow," he breathed out.

"Huh?" You hummed with a smile in your eyes.

"You still take my breath away."

A nervous laugh fell from your lips, and Chanhee swooped in to taste it—that, your laugh.

"I love you," he murmured against your mouth. Nevermind all the press and paparazzi, or Anna Wintour, or anyone. This was just you and him, even for a little. You could imagine the headlines, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

Your tongue swiped over his bottom lip to catch the last bits of him. "I love you, too."

There was a cunning glint in his eyes, offset by the soft smile on his face. "Okay, this is it. Call me if you need anything."

You began walking toward the entrance backwards. "What if I need you?"

His smile widened. "I said call me, didn't I? Anytime, anywhere." I'm yours.

tbz m.list

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anotherbluesunday · 20 days

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✨Moodboard Teaser: In Technicolor✨

With the release of the first chapter coming in hot with its expected release being this Friday at the latest or sooner (possibly as early as tomorrow) I wanted to take the time to acquaint everyone with the primary couples in this story. Usually I cap it at two couples and have auxilary couples and characters on the fringes. But because this is a crossover between two of my favorite shows, I have expanded it to three—possibly four—couples with auxilaries (secondary) on the fringes. These couples will include original characters i.e. Wynn Galpin who is Tyler Galpin’s younger sister. There is a crossover couple that joins the Wednesday group with the Riverdale group. This couple is where I expect to receive the most backlash but idc. Their my crossover otp and I hope you all trust me enough to keep reading and join me/the characters on this journey. I have also switched some things up with one of the Riverdale characters because the ship only got screen time in the last season and it did more for their character than their actual failed relationships did the entire season. Fight me. But don’t. Or do.

Anyway, here are the couples moodboards, as promised. The visuals were inspired by Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juilet because these past few months since January I have been on a 90’s and 2000’s kick and I am dying for how that movie captured the beauty, grit, grime, and excitement of LA. So enjoy and let me know what you think! 💜

We open with our crossover couple who are the star-crossed lovers—Cheryl Blossom, the queen of the Palisades and star tennis player and Pugsley “Lee” Addams, the king of Elysian Heights and leader of his grunge sleeze band Texca. Born second generation to a working class defense attorny and day-time caregiver to the elderly, Lee Addams has just wants to make it through his senior year of high school and hangout with his friends on the weekend. But when he and his twin sister Wednesday step a little too far over the line at their old school their parents pull some strings to have their three children—Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert “Bertie” attend Morticia’s former high school. There, Lee unwittingly comes face to face with the campus queen, the indomitable and untouchable Cheryl Blossom. Born into privilege with the face of an angel and the bite of a viper, she has everything and anything. Influence thanks to her parents name. Adoration by way of her beauty. And power because of her abilities to manipulate others. But what happens when a hurricane meets an immoveable force? Will they fold? Destroy one another? What happens when the pretty vicious face isn’t all it seems to be and the cutting confidence is stripped away? Who are the real people that lie beneath it all?

Next are our second pair of the four star-crossed lovers. While it is never a good idea to fall for your twin flame, for Tyler and Wednesday it isn’t so simple. Twin flames and soulmates fused into one as if it were a sick joke, their story begins at a party—the raven haired twin sister with her face painted like a Catrina (see: Dia de los Muertos symbols and iconography) and the Galpin golden boy dressed like Sir Lancelot with the sacred heart etched into his chest plate. Like her brothers, Wednesday grew up living a modest life where nothing was taken for granted and family sits at the heart of all major decisions. For Tyler, he has forgotten the importance of family and community after starting university where his life has evolved into an endless stream of parties and hookup’s. Never struggling but also never being challenged to be better or grow, he’s hit a wall. A mid-life crisis of sorts but at the already chaotic age of 18 with his 19th birthday right around the corner. But from the moment he lays eyes on Wednesday she is all he can think of. All he breathes and dreams of—a beautiful stranger that won’t free him. Yet when this silver tongued Casanova tries to approach the dark beauty he’s shot down. Challenged to question who he is and what he truly is doing with his life that matters. What is in store for the idealistic social revolutionist and her troubled admirer? Where will they land when the walls of his kingdom come crumbling down?

The youngest of three siblings each yet one is protected and coddled like a greenhouse flower while the other has flourished amidst hardship and bouts of poverty. Wynn Galpin is caught in a never-ending loop of compassions to her twin older siblings, Tyler and Enid. Both are straight A students. Both star athletes with Tyler winning championship after championship for swim and Enid earning a full-ride scholarship to UCLA for volleyball. Both are charming and charismatic. Both are perfect and Wynn can never compare despite how she tries. She doesn’t have the passion for swim or volleyball so she chooses cheer. “That’s not a real sport” she’s told. Her siblings get A’s but she can hardly scrape by with B’s while battling her depression and anxiety. At all times, her mind is screaming for her to just run off and disappear. And after the loss of her friend and pseudo-sister Polly, the darkness has become more persuasive. More invasive and vicious. But it is during a spiral that forces her out of the gym during cheer practice that she runs into the new kid. The brainiac junior in her senior level AP classes. Pubert “Bertie” Addams. A carefree class clown with a heart of gold and the virgin Guadalupe drawn in vibrant neons on the bottom of his skateboard. Where will this new path take them when the class clown and the beauty queen who seems to always be in tears meet to form an oddball friendship? And what happens when their hearts begin to long for more than just friendship but their worlds couldn’t be more different? How will things turn out for the greenhouse flower and her sidewalk dandelion?

What’s the worst that could happen when you fall in love with your best friend? What happens when you think they love someone else? When you think they could never see you the way you see them in return? Do you stand there and wait for them to turn around? Or do you walk away while piecing together your heart that will never know real closure? Reggie has asked himself these questions nearly every day for the past six years since his family moved to the fringes of the Palisades and enrolled him in the affluent junior high nearby. Archie Andrews was his first friend at his new school all those years ago. The first one to get up during lunch time and sit down next to him. The one who didn’t care that his parents weren’t from money and had only recently come into their fortune. The one who didn’t care that he didn’t have the newest clothes, phone, or hairstyle. Like a guardian angel come to save him from perpetual solitude, Archie befriended Reggie with a bright smile and a silly joke. And since that day, Reggie has kept his love for the redhaired boy wonder to himself. Has been the picture of what a bestfriend should be. Has supported Archie and defended him. Joined their high school swim team with him just so that they could live out Archie’s dream of being the one’s to break Tyler, the former captain’s, record and win more championships than him and his team did. Reggie has lived a beautiful but painful lie for nearly a decade and the cracks have begun to show. The devotion now agony. The love a barbed dagger twisted liettle by little every time he has to play third wheel on Archie’s dates with his girlfriend Veronica. But one night their eyes meet across a sea of moving bodies at a house party. Archie kissing Veronica but can’t stop looking at Reggie. There’s a spark. A sadness. Hope. But is there truth? Is there a willingness to be honest? To accept this attraction that has been there waiting from the start? Does Archie know what real love could be like if he just turned around? Or will the lovefool angel look away once again and leave the poor friend and saint in the dark?

Stay tuned for more because this is only the beginning. Next will be the auxiliary couples, characters, and family boards for the three main ones at play. But the next next post that will be following this one will be the official titlecard for Chapter One. Can’t wait to see you all again there. 💜

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miller-n-morgan · 20 days

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And I Feel Fine (.i)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: Random selection on weekly patrol is a completely normal occurrence. A coincidental raid on the Jackson dam generator by Tommy’s older brother (and a little stranger) is absolutely not.

Warnings: there's a lot to unpack here, bear with me; mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. This one literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 5.7k

Hi everyone! Thank you guys for the likes and shares and encouragement of my work before I even posted it! I appreciate you guys so much and I hope you enjoy (if that's even possible yet this is so messy for a first chapter)

The man is tall, his face looks worn and tried by the tests of time. It’s not a bad face, you reason. It’s just older, seen more things. You recognized him, though he doesn’t look the same now as the source material from which you know him. He used to wear a smile, you’re pretty sure. “Have we… met?” He seemed confused, trying to meet your wandering stare. Tommy stepped in, thinking he’d better introduce you both. “This is my brother, J-” “Joel,” you nodded, turning back to Tommy for only a second. “I remember from those pictures you brought back.”

Fall leaves are on the ground, on your front porch, and practically everywhere you look this morning. Other houses wear the orange and red upon their rooftops and over their outdoor furniture. It’s your favorite season while it’s in motion, while the leaves are still falling. It’s romantic somehow, after waking up from the nightmares. The rainbow after the rain, or something like that.

In a few weeks, you know the best of it will be over, and the wind will carry the leaves to the middle of the street, into the town area, and it will be impossible to see anything else but the dead color bursts. That is when you hate fall, when its leaves need to be raked up and out of the way. By then they are crisp and dry beneath your feet, a reminiscent sound of something else that isn’t as pleasing. You will be loathing when that time rolls around, but for now you are at peace, and savoring the momentary beauty. Nothing is permanent, including your ability to sit in the warmth of your house, sipping the hot coffee you’d brewed before patrol.

You’ve only rotated twice in two weeks, which doesn’t make a damn lick of sense considering you are one of only three people that knows the western route.

Tommy’s put you on for this morning, he and Maria are to accompany you and a few others around the power plant by the dam. There’s been some noise going on the past few weeks, and with the livelihood of the commune on the line, it’s best to sort these things out, nip them in the bud.

You take your mug to the kitchen sink and give it a quick rinse, grabbing the two lonely carrots in your fridge on the way out, stuffing them in the pocket of your jacket.

By the time you’ve actually laced up your boots, and tripped on your doorway’s crooked ridge - a morning tradition, no matter how many years you’ve lived here - the sun is cresting over the mountains, the light barely shining over the homes and their leafy crowns of orange and red and yellow and brown.

It’s still only seven-thirty by the time you reach the stables. You know Maria’s probably got something to eat packed away for later, you never got too hungry in the morning anyways. Tommy un-hatches the gate for you, walking up with half a smile on his face.

“Provoker is living up to his name just now, kicked my ass right out of his stall,” he shook his head, throwing an annoyed hand behind him to spite the horse. “And here I was tryna do somethin’ nice for ya.”

You huffed a laugh, trying to seem apologetic for your stallion’s bad behavior. He always teased you, ‘your old horse wasn’t like this,’ and ‘maybe I’ll shoot him and claim self defense.’ But of course, Maria wouldn’t stand for that. Casper, or as Tommy so lovingly has taken to calling him, ‘Provoker’ was found several miles south of the commune, just a scared and hungry horse. He was strong and sturdy and learned the routes quickly. Tommy was just an ass because the horse didn’t seem to like men.

“What did you do this time?”

“Ain’t done nothing, swear it. Keith saw me, was just passin’ through,” he defended, his hands in the air.

“With you, that can be enough,” you shouldered passed him into the stables, hearing him follow on your trail.

“You callin’ me fat?”

“Absolutely.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing his bridal from the wall and handing you yours. The horses are usually saddled early in the morning, all except for Casper. Maria does good with him, and when you get to his stall you can see she’s already prepared the tall stallion for the ride.

“Good mornin’, handsome…” you pulled a carrot from your pocket and fed it up to the horse, his grateful blow of air a signal that he was in a better mood now.

“Can’t believe you’re rewardin’ his bad behavior.”

Tommy’s voice is not upset, but vaguely annoyed over your shoulder.

“Maybe I’m rewarding his good behavior,” you say it smugly, giving him a narrowed gaze as you turn your head. “You’re higher in rank than me, if I dispose of you I get all the power.”

Maria heard you from the next stall down, snickering under her breath.

“Oh, so that was an assassination attempt, then?”

“No, you have to be someone of high importance for it to be considered an assassination,” Maria replied, leading her bronze mare from the stalls. Elsie, the horse’s name was.

You were still fixing the bit for Casper before adjusting the bridal.

“She just admitted I was higher in rank,” he argued, pulling his own horse forward now, leaving only you to catch up behind them.

“Still lower in rank to me, bud,” she teased, nudging his shoulder and smiling in his direction. He smiled back, and by witnessing it alone, you mirrored both expressions.

You’d been here since before they were even together. Almost ten years since you’d met Tommy, and eight since you’d met Maria. You saw them meet each other, saw them interact before this was ever the norm. You swore back then they hated each other’s guts, hated whatever one had to say to them. With time the hatred melted to a dull dislike, and by the time the Jackson commune was established, they seemed to have forgotten any ill feelings they ever had. It was like watching a movie over the span of four years, the personal threats and arguments turned into strange and somehow meaningful compliments or encouragements. They were married three years ago, and it was the first wedding you’d ever attended. You remember it so well because you imagined that maybe someday you’d get a shot. You would have a chance at loving someone the way Tommy adored Maria, heart and soul.

“There’s a few boys still stationed out at the generator. I reckon they kept clear any danger during the night, but we should still be vigilant.”

Tommy’s warning brought you back, allowing you to pick up time from where you left it. The three of you lined up in front of the commune’s entrance point, mounting your horses and waiting for the go ahead from the men guarding the gates. It’s been a rough season, dealing with raiders, hunters, and even on the odd occasion, children in need of shelter.

Casper took off before you even had to tell him, because he’s gone out enough times to know the drill. Maria follows closely behind, with Tommy lagging slightly. His horse, Dakota, was an old girl… probably one of the oldest in town. But she was smart, reliable, and got where she needed to be… eventually.

The ride was quiet this morning, no animals in the trail or clickers wandering the premises. It was actually nice and serene, matching the beautiful scenery of the fall ambers.

It wasn’t long before your horse’s legs slowed, trotting to the checkpoint and coming to a halt when the watchers spotted you.

You recognized one of the guys in the tower, Billy. He was a little younger than you, but closer in age than most of the company you keep. Nice guy, but not a thought behind those eyes.

“Top of the mornin to ya,” he called out, leaning over the edge of the rail with a cheesy grin.

“Morning,” you called up, dismounting Casper and leading him around the wall now. “Heard you boys had some trouble last night.”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle. How about you, princess, you sleep okay?”

You snorted, looking up to him with a bright expression.

“Like a baby.”

You tied the reins by the makeshift trough that had been half assed and reconstructed over the years, looking out over the dam where the checkpoint sat upon. Everything was running smoothly, so either they actually did dispose of last night’s threats, or they were keeping them hidden extremely well. The water flowed, the power ran.

You weren’t really paying attention to what Tommy said when he came around the corner, just hummed along to his words and hoped he didn’t notice.

You liked this checkpoint more than the rest. The water was beautiful, the nature around it even prettier of a sight. You wished you could have seen it under better circumstances, without a gun on your hip and a knife in your pocket.

You wish that in another life you could come here, lay a picnic blanket down, and just sit by the water and the trees behind it in the distance, the mountains over and above framing them like a painting. What a shame for something to lose its beauty on the technicality of implication. The men stationed at every point on the river implies it isn’t safe. The weapons in their arms imply that the dangers are not few, and the way they look to each other implies they would rather not be here, with Jackson’s commune being the only place they can really feel at home anymore.

“Hey,” Tommy’s direct call to the back of your head made it turn. “You listenin’?”

“Huh?”

He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as he repeated his words.

“Can you go check the bridge and see about damages?”

You nodded, a small ‘yeah’ rolling off your lips when you started into that direction.

You passed by Billy going up the stairs, giving him a small smile and a nod before turning the corner. You liked him, really, you did… but you were too tired and too hungry to interact with a guy who thought a great point of conversation was mentioning the different soups of the week in the dining hall.

“Come to inspect my handy work?” Terry, an older man with a strange wit about him, had been waiting for you on the bridge when you got there.

“Yep, Tommy just wants to make sure all the bases are covered.”

You peeked around one of the smaller generators, seeing the body of a dead raider that had been dragged aside from the walkway. He was already starting to smell, the rotten odor making you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“You just left him here all night?” You asked, kicking the boot of the stiff, cold man. He had a bullet hole in his neck, and you figured, Terry was awfully proud of putting it there. The man had a good aim, one of the better shots in town.

“Didn’t know exactly where to put ‘im until the shift was over. Guess that’s your job, now,” he grinned devilishly, jabbing you in the ribs with his elbow. You tried to get him back but he just caught your arm and left it loose. “Easy now, don’t hurt your arm… gonna need it to carry him.”

You sighed, walking around to where you could get a good grip on his boots, picking them up one by one before dragging him from that corner.

“Was he the only one?”

“As far as we know, we called it in as soon as we shot him. There haven’t been any other surprises since then.”

“Good to know,” you let out, getting him around the corner and to the stairs. Billy didn’t seem to be as chatty now that you were accompanied by a dead body, but he stared the entire time you got him positioned at the staircase.

“Need some help?” he finally offered, but at this point, you had it covered.

“I’m good.”

You kicked hard enough to roll him over, letting his body topple over the stairs until he reached the bottom. Years ago, doing this may have bothered you. Disrespecting the body of someone who died in this cruel world would have turned your stomach. But again, that was years ago. Now, this body was just some jackass who tried to ambush your family of survivors, and you had to dispose of him.

“Well that looks… fun.”

His dry attempt at humor made you huff a single laugh through your nose, following down the stairs a moment later. You got back to the work of pulling the guy’s tattered boots, dragging him through the dirt and leaving a muddy trail of blood from where it seeped out his neck.

Tommy was coming around the corner with some tools, probably on his way to fix something important, but he stopped a moment to watch you and your unfortunate task.

“Gonna lend a hand?” You asked him, the pace of your backwards steps slowing when you passed him.

“No, I think you got it,” he joked, moving on with a smile the next moment. What an ass. He was like a big brother that you never had. You knew that man would kill for you, and has before, but still found every opportunity to mess with or tease you. What an ass.

Just wait till Maria hears about this, you think. Then he’ll be in for it.

You roll the body into the river once you get far enough away from the dam, making sure he won’t cause any harm to the flow or energy. Once you’re sure he’s completely out of the way and taken care of, you turn back to the checkpoint, walking over to Maria as she finished speaking with the main watchguard from last night. You figure you should blame him for your task, since he could have done it… but that’s petty, and you only have room to be petty when you know it’ll get you somewhere.

“Guess what I just did?” you asked in a mocking tone, a fake smile plastered on your face as you crossed your arms.

“Probably something to earn the sandwich I brought you,” she returned, knowing you well enough by now to recognize your sarcastic behavior.

“I dragged a body from the bridge to the river, it better be a fucking good sandw-”

“Turkey and cheese.”

“God bless you,” you folded, following her to her backpack inside.

As soon as the food was in your hands, you gave her a genuine smile, sitting down at an old abandoned desk almost immediately. The woman chuckles under her breath. She remembered too many times you’d skipped breakfast before a patrol… it was by now a part of the routine to make you something to eat when she got scheduled alongside you.

“Save some for later, we might be here a while.” She pat your shoulder, leaving without a response from your end. You were far too occupied to give her one, anyways.

The town’s butcher was a nasty man, but everyone loved him dearly, and this was why. You imagine that before the outbreak he was probably some big time deli owner, one of the best around. It’s just a fucking sandwich, you think… but it’s so damn good.

You saved about half, knowing that now you were fed, you could tie yourself over until the next meal in the hall this evening. It was Wednesday, so the menu would probably consist of soups and salads.

You get a bit caught up in wrapping your leftover food until you hear a bit of confused banter from outside. It sounds like Maria, but you can’t be sure. Whoever she’s just finished yelling at isn’t an imminent threat, you can tell that much, but you still worry. You take enough time to put the sandwich away and start to leave the warehouse, pulling the gun from its place at your hip. You don’t raise it, but having it close is better, you’ve learned. The noise outside has ceased but after a moment, the door opens.

“Maria?” You don’t even make it out of the hallway when you bump into Tommy, side by side with a stranger. He catches your eye in a familiar way. “Hey, I know you.”

“Have we… met?” He seemed confused, trying to meet your wandering stare. Tommy stepped in, thinking he’d better introduce you both.

“This is my brother, J-”

“Joel,” you nodded, turning back to Tommy for only a second. “I remember from those pictures you brought back.”

“Right,” Tommy mumbled, stepping closer to you. “He’s brought a girl with him. Maria took her to get some of those rations in the back section, but I think you still have the keys on your chain. You might wanna head over there.”

“Alright,” you started in the direction of the exit, walking backward to give Tommy a warning. “I left half a sandwich in there, don’t touch it.”

You stood outside of the Boston QZ, fourteen years old and scared as hell. It was hard enough to get in without being caught, but once you were inside, you’d have to remain invisible for the next month, or at least, until you could settle your predicament.

“This way,” echoed a voice in your head, the young man that accompanied you, trying to sneak you under the city tunnels. You followed him until you were in a sewer, having trouble making your way through given that your body specifications had changed over the last eight and a half months.

The man ahead of you didn’t bother to help or to make the path easier, but kept yelling for you to keep up.

“I’m trying,” you trudged on, your swollen feet making you stumble along the sludgy water. “It’s really hard.”

He huffed, his face invisible to you as you blocked it out of your mind. “You have to move faster, we can’t get caught down here.”

Your eyes formed tears at his flippant tone, impatient and completely ridiculous about how fast you were moving when you clearly could only strain yourself so much. You let a hand fall subconsciously to your swollen stomach as you climbed out of the sewer, following the man ahead at an impressive speed given your condition.

You hated him, wanted to leave him… but you knew you would die without his direction.

“Alright, coast looks clear. If we linger around here a while we can blend with the crowd as we move down.”

He didn’t pay any mind to your state, the tears streaming down your face or the pain in your back and hips. The way you waddled just to meet him around the corner, watching for people passing by.

“Once we find the contact, you know what to do.” Flat tone, flat words, unfeeling. You still couldn’t see his face, but his voice is strong. It plagues you.

“Yes…” and you turn to the dirty window beside you. Your appearance is appalling at best, scruffy and unbrushed hair pulled back in a ponytail, tear stained cheeks. Your torn jacket and ripped pants barely cling to you, now wet and sagging around you from the water in the sewer. The only thing left to stare at is your too thin body, struggling to hold the weight of what grew inside you. The face that looks you back in the eye… it’s young, too young for this. It has a dark history, and doubts about the future. It wants more than anything to be at peace, to relax and be settled… but it looks to you as is, not as it should be.

“Are you okay?” Maria asks, taking the key you were about to give her, your hand now frozen in mid air as you stare down the kid before you.

“Yeah, I’m good I just-” You can’t seem to move, breathing out shakily. You manage to lift a finger in her direction. “Who is-?”

“Ellie. She’s with Joel, they’ve been traveling together.” She finishes unlocking the storage base, shouldering the door open. When she turns back you haven’t barely moved. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No…”

And finally you beg your muscles to move, to turn your head away. Your eyes moving from the girl’s face causes a chain reaction, and you regain full motion again. You wait for Ellie to follow Maria, make sure there’s a good chunk of distance between you, then walk into the building, your head to the ground in deep thought. That face, it’s you… no. It’s her.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ellie whispers to Maria, turning back to watch the way you struggle forward, trying everything in your power to avert your eyes from her, but she’s still there.

“I don’t know,” Maria puts her hands on her hips, genuine concern arising. “What's wrong with you?”

Give an answer. Give a realistic answer that doesn’t raise more questions. Not the truth, though.

“She just reminds me of someone, that’s all.”

The girl seems angsty given your state and how shaken you seemed. Like you saw a ghost. You still aren’t sure she isn’t one.

“A dead someone?” She asks, louder than her last words.

“No,” You shake your head. Not a lie. You’re not dead yet, and you don’t think she is. Can’t be a ghost, especially not mine. Maria wouldn’t see her. “Sorry if I’m bein’ weird, you just… how old are you?”

“Fourteen... And a half.”

Fourteen was bad enough, but the little witty ‘and a half’ gave you a very good estimate of her birthday, or at least, birth month. You gasped lightly, whatever air you could take in was coming in small doses. You suddenly can’t take a deep breath, your head running in circles and repeating dates, times, names, places. Faces, even.

“Maria, I think I’m gonna sit down a while.”

You fell against the closest table, scooting back on it until your back hit the pole it was against.

“Take your time,” She muttered, nodding and pulling Ellie along to the lockers.

She pried one open, pulling a few cans of food from the containment and giving them to her. Peaches, baked beans, chicken soup, all were pretty good options in comparison to the hunted and gathered rations she and Joel had been surviving on. She would have been far more excited had she not been focused on the woman sitting down, her eyes closed and hands raised to her head from the other side of the room.

“Does this happen to her a lot?” She couldn’t stop staring either, the fear about the woman lingering as something familiar.

“Never.”

Maria wasn’t sure what had gotten into you. She had to look through the files of her mind to try and come up with an answer to your madness. The most stoic and brave faced person she’d come across, now sitting in shambles of thought.

“Do you know who I remind her of?”

Maria shakes her head, handing Ellie a can opener and a spoon. “No.”

For a moment she thinks that maybe it could be your sister, deceased… but you said the specific someone wasn’t dead.

“Her whole family died a while ago, and I don’t know anyone back home that looks like you.”

“She’s on her own?” Ellie dug into the chicken soup can first, her hunger now distracting from the conversation.

“She’s got us, but yeah I guess so.”

All alone. No family left, all gone to cordyceps and raiders. Mother, Father, young brother, baby sister. No one made it.

“That’s sad. I hope I don’t make her upset or anything.”

Maria shook her head, sitting next to the girl. This poor kid has probably been through a lot. Knowing what she does of Joel, she thinks he can’t be a pleasant traveling companion. Ellie doesn’t need anything else to worry about, least of all a total stranger.

“No, that’s not it. I think she might just be remembering someone she forgot about. Life’s been tough on her.”

The girl nodded, spooning into the can of soup now that it had finally been opened.

The woman was tall, dark hair cropped higher than her shoulders, her face was stiff and unexpressive, like most people in this QZ.

“You got the pills?” She asked, her voice low as she looked around to make sure no one watched on. No Fedra officers or anything of the like.

“Yeah,” the faceless voice spoke, a hand reaching out with the pill bag. It was half full, probably more than one bottle. “Vicodin, hospital standard. You can try 'em, they’re still good.”

“Alright,” she took them, inspecting the sides of the bag. She’s done this enough times, she can tell they’re real. “I found a family that’s willing to take another baby. Had to pull some strings, but they’re open to it.”

“Where are they?” he asked, and you turned to him, the forceful tone he had made you jump a little. The woman before you noticed, and didn’t seem thrilled about it. She turned to you, slightly more compassionate than when she was scowling at the man by your side.

“How old are you, kid?”

You looked to him first, and he looked apprehensive. You needed an out, this is it. “Fourteen.”

She took a sharp inhale, turning to the man, her arms crossed. Her face was again ruthless, the glare she sent him was unrelenting.

“And how old are you?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, feeling cornered. “That’s not really your business. You got the pills, just tell us where to go.”

The woman shook her head, dropping it as a chuckle escaped her.

“I’ll take her,” she answered, eyes flitting back and forth between you. Your body language when she spoke told her you were relieved.”Without you.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

And before you knew it, she pulled a gun from the back of her pants. You gasped, standing back, and the man grabbed at your arm, but you shrugged it away. This is where you get off the train, away from the way it’s been carrying you along the long and winding tracks, only making stops in the most complicated of stations.

“The deal is I find a safe place for her to have a kid, and someone to hand it off to. Those are the terms, and I intend to keep my end.”

You stepped closer to her, watching as she placed her finger on the trigger. “I didn’t agree to what I didn’t know.”

“Look, I know where to find more pills, just take us where you’re supposed to and I can get you more,” he raised his hands, trying to beg, trying to argue, but the woman didn’t budge. She knew that you’d either been forced into this companionship, or trafficked into it. She wasn’t a good person by any means, but she wasn’t going to turn a blind eye to something she wouldn’t condone herself.

“I’m about to ask her a question, and if the answer isn’t no… you’re gettin’ your head blown off, ya hear?” She turned to you, looking you up and down. She wants to be wrong, wants to find out this guy is just a nice companion that happened to be helping you out of the kindness of his heart. But she’s doubtful, call it an apocalyptic mindset. “Is that his kid?”

You chanced a look at the faceless man, feeling his eyes on you though you could not place them. He was expectant, waiting for you to lie so that he could go back to being your keeper, telling you what to do.

“Yes,” you nodded, the tears from earlier returning to your eyes and making the stains on your cheeks even darker than before.

“Just stop, I can get you more!”

The woman raised her gun more steady, her finger beginning to pull back on the trigger before you stopped her, a hand at her arm.

“Wait,” you breathed, the rapid inhales were evening out as you asked her: “Can I do it?”

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re doing, don’t do this,” he begged, the reverberation of his words like a whirring siren in your head. You remember sirens, from before the outbreak. Cops cars, ambulances, fire trucks. You remember them. They always signaled help was on the way, and that’s what this felt like.

The woman was shocked, but didn’t hesitate to hand you her gun. You’d been through hell with this asshole, and you couldn’t let someone else have the satisfaction of dealing with him. She understood your mindset well, as others in her past brought about the same feelings.

You raised the gun to him, and heard one more cry of your name pass from his lips before pulling the trigger. The tears stopped flooding your cheeks almost instantly, and you breathed out in relief. The woman didn’t wait for you to hand it back, she took the gun from you and placed it back in her pants.

“You okay?” She asked.

“I’m better…”

And then she nudged you out of the alleyway, beginning to lead you in the direction of your next steps. You weren’t out of the woods, yet.

You don’t even know what happened during the attack, just that you went into autopilot and started shooting from the first sign of intruders. It was more of those fuckin hunters. The ones who killed whole groups of people at a time in order to steal the most trivial items off their bodies. Too bad not one of them survived.

You tossed up a look and your eyes met the familiar stranger. Joel, Tommy’s long lost brother. Your head was foggy, but you’re pretty sure he just saved your ass from getting shot. Not like it was your fault, you weren’t at your best, and you probably wouldn’t be until you figured shit out.

“Are you alright?” Tommy came up beside you, his arm on your shoulder, sleeve torn where the bullet just missed.

“Physically.” You turned to see Ellie run up to Joel.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

You froze again, watching how she interacted with the older man, the way she was so expressive. Tommy hadn't ever seen you like this. So… affected.

“Means I’m all over the place. Not really sure what’s real right now.” You turned back to him, following him around, trying to find Maria.

“Well, maybe you should ride back with Billy, he’s about to head out. You can go home, rest.”

“No, I don’t-” You cut yourself short, trying to recouperate your words. “I don’t need rest, I need some clarity.”

“On what?” His exasperation was not due to annoyance, but rather the fact that he knew… it had something to do with his brother and Ellie.

“Where did Joel find that girl?” You crossed your arms, trying to broach the subject without just telling him yet.

“Probably back in Boston, why?”

You’ve known Tommy for ten years, since right after he left his brother. Since he’d gone off on the trail of the fireflies, a trail you’d gone down a while, too. He knew practically everything about you. Knew about your family, about the hunters you used to run with as a kid, the guy who basically kidnapped you… and yeah, he knew about the baby you gave up.

“You remember that one story I told you? From when I was younger?”

He stopped in his tracks, not turning around fully, but tossing a look over his shoulder at you. It was unsettled and confused, but not upset. He knew you had good reason to believe what you did… but still. It was a one in a million chance, right?

“C’mon… you can’t possibly think that’s her.”

“Tommy…” you knew he was trying to keep your hopes down, that he didn’t want you to over excite yourself on a whim… but what if? You’d prayed for this day, to find her again. You went back for her once and she wasn’t there, neither was the family you left her with. You hoped she was alive, but until now you were never sure… you’re still not sure but you hope, you hope.

“There could be a hundred other kids out there that look a bit like you, you know that.” The chances are a million to one… but he can’t stand to look at you, your eyes so full of something he hasn’t seen there before. Not just hope, but something else, something full of a happiness that is only at its most basic potential, unknowing. “Did you ask her anything? Check for the birthmark?”

You shook your head, arms tightening as you looked back to Ellie in the distance.

“No, I was terrified. Kept thinking I was gettin’ haunted by the ghost of my past self.”

It was meant as a joke, but it was partially serious.

He sighed, following your line of sight and tilting his head. Yeah, he saw the resemblance. He’d met you at age eighteen, but he pictured you younger. Cheeks still a little puffy from the unlost baby fat, eyes still bright and twinkling despite the things you’d seen. Probably quite a bit shorter, too. He figured that she’s the spitting image of you from that age.

“You really think it’s her?”

You threw your hands up in the air. How many times did you have to say it? Try to convince him? No, you weren’t sure… but you had every reason to believe it.

“Same age, same face, same QZ-”

“Look… talk to her. Ask her some questions. See if anything matches up.” He ran a hand over his face. He’d made up his mind about something only a minute ago, and it was plaguing him even more now that you came to him. “Now, I gotta go talk to Maria, and after that I’m gonna take her off of Joel’s hands. She’s gonna go to the fireflies. You’re more than welcome to join me, I’ll need the help.”

You used to make runs with Tommy all the time. No problem… but this also meant more time with Ellie, possibly your Ellie. You could ask her more, find out the answers you’ve been longing for since you left her.

Tags: open

“Okay…”

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #Joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller #reader insert #the last of us

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