#we were talking about my downward spiral and how literally nothing is working | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

manic-kagura · 2 years

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alright so some shit in my life has happened and im just reaching breaking point after breaking point and this post + its possible following reblogs exist to help me vent

general tw, but specific to domestic abuse, narcissistic abuse, and anything that can occur within those two categories (im exhausted i cant think of all the issues that may pop up)

theyll all be under readmores

so for context: my dad has undiagnosed narcissistic personality disorder - while it may be undiagnosed by technicality, i consider this to be his state of being because, like narcs do, he refuses to get help, because THAT would mean something is WRONG WITH HIM!

I’m 27 years old - I didn’t get out of that emotionally abusive household until i was 25, and even then I was unable to fully escape it. in late february of 2020 my dad crossed a line that just...lit the lightbulb in my head and i chose to go live with my current boyfriend, who i had known for about a month and been dating for maybe 2 weeks at the time. it’s been 2 years since i left, and after a long time of slowly getting things in my control (finances, my dog, my car, my bank account, etc) i was finally able to start going low contact 10 months ago. unfortnately, this also meant i couldn’t call my mom because he would turn the volume on the tv down so he could hear me talking to her over the phone. i didnt want to risk her safety further, so we just...dont call each other unless shes in the car.

this specific post is not for me to go into details on the bullshit i endured (i may do that elsewhere another time with heavy tw) - this post is specific to a rather recent set of events and how this has, today, crumbled into causing me a downward spiral.

my dad has threatened my mom with divorce A LOT over the past 2 years - it started getting really aggressive when i caught covid and she was asking him to back off because (SURPRISE) his meddling was making my symptoms worse (and i didnt even live with them...controlling ass freak). so anytime she vaguely annoyed him, he’d threaten it. my mom is very very Christian (unfortunately), and from South Africa - the idea of divorce is terrifying to her on so many levels, and no matter how many times ive tried to get her to leave she always had an excuse.

well, one day he made the threat, and she said “bring the papers and i’ll sign them.”

the threats calmed down. I don’t know when they started getting aggressive again, but in May of this year (2022), he finally decided he’d bring them. he told my mom she had time to look for living arrangements, and when she did he’d start finalizing divorce shit. when i learned this i blocked him everywhere i could manage - no phone calls, no texts. saving face has no purpose anymore when theres nothing to salvage.

my mom has been working her ass off for like 4 years - my dad lost his job, and with it any financial stability we may have had (all the Amazon boxes stacked around the house every day would make you think otherwise though). i learned my mom had NO ACCESS to her income. it went to a joint account that she was unable to get into.

well with this actual divorce going on and her job working her to death (like she goes in at 7 am and leaves at 12 am - fuck publix), she has had literally no way of packing shit up to start getting ready to leave. she has not opened a new bank account for her income. she hasnt found a lawyer. despite me telling her id help her with these things, shes declined and ive backed off.

until today.

on a whim i decided to check my old email (a rarity in the past 2+ years honestly). i noticed some emails in there that were sent as a text, from a phone, which was something i had seen before (my dad had done this somehow by accident before in 2019, but it was always in a text chain that included me).

this one did not include me. i dont know how im receivng these. but its a text chain between him and some woman that i do not know - number and name dont ring any bells, she isnt in our family, shes not a friend ive ever heard him speak of.

he was asking her about “tourism visas” for someone coming from the Phillipines.

its not for work. not only does he not even do shit in the line of work in which hed be talking to people in other countries now, but TOURISM VISAS arent for work.

a good friend of mine from high school has a shitty dad too. we laugh at how fucking similar they are. turns out, her dads had shit like this too! fucking mail order brides!!!

i start sending my mom screenshots. im frantically texting her to contact me. she hadnt contacted me in about a week so in a fit of fear i decide to call her, which is something ive done my best not to do, at all, ever.

i asked her “can you talk? are you alone? can we speak in private?” she said she was at home, to call back in 10 minutes. i told her ok, but she needs to check her texts.

we start texting. she says my dad was asking why i called, what it was about, what i was gonna text her about. she said she didnt know (which is only half a lie tbh).

his response was “when you get home tomorrow, we need to finalize things.”

i ripped him apart in my texts. i told her she needs to get her finances together ASAP. no more waiting. he didnt give a singel solitary shit about her or our fucking family, hes trying to fuck her over. hes hurt us enough. i told her i had screenshotted all of the messages, i told her to ask for a small vacation from work to get her shit together and out, i told her to stay with a friend when my boyfriend and i couldnt be with her to pack.

shes finally decided to get a lawyer. she said to keep everything on hand. shes finally seeing the fucking lightbulb.

im hoping in the next week she’ll be having more days off to deal with this shit. my only high points within this situation today were to see her finally turn around and the mere fucking thought that i made my life long abuser shit himself, all because i said “i need to talk to you in private” to my poor fucking mother.

i hope this fucker burns in whatever hells exist. i hope he burns in every single torturous afterlife and his soul never rests. but most of all i hope he realizes he will leave this fucking world cold and alone, just like he raised and left us.

#personal #negative #tw abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw narcissistic parent #vent #add later

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elbertoko · 1 year

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Alright, let's talk about mental health

youtube

I have been following Benedict Cua for years and I have always loved and appreciated his funny content. He talks very openly about his thoughts and journey. He is a ray of sunshine. It feels like he is the kind of friend you could open up to and get close to.

In his recent vlog post, he opened up about his mental health struggles; how he is going through one of the most difficult times of his life; and how he is slowly trying to get everything together day after day.

In his video, he acknowledges that he is not okay and that he needed help. He seeks help from a professional and currently on medication in order to balance out the chemicals inside his body and make him feel a little bit better.

I relate very much with Ben in this chapter of his life.

There was a point in my life where everything became too much to bear. It had been a few years ago when I was caught up with everything all at once — a failing relationship, deteriorating health, existential crisis — and everything went on a downward spiral.

My brain was too consumed with all the failures and the bad things that happened to me I couldn't keep up. I was not built on a strong foundation because I was made of happiness, romance, adventure, fairies, butterflies, and all the nice things this world can ever have. I created this made-up happy world where everything happy was possible. It was my world after all until I was faced with waves of failures and frustrations all at the same time, rocking my very foundation to destruction. I didn't know how to react. If anything, i reacted so badly; uncalculated; every action was from the gut.

My head was so heavy, and my heart was pulsating like it was about to burst out of my chest. I didn't know what to do and I had too much of everything so I dropped everything down: work, friends, family, comfort. I was left with nothing at that moment. I decided to walk away from everything I knew was beautiful and took on a long journey to discover things, places, and people I never knew existed.

It was not easy to be in a bad place mentally and physically. There was no way to know if I was ever going to be okay again. There was no way to prove that this was going to work and make me feel better. All I knew was I felt I needed to go away from everything.

In my travels, I got to think a lot about everything. I was able to tap into my subconscious and have a clear understanding of why I was the way I was. I could say I learned more about myself. The thoughts were mostly transformed into late-night deep cries, regrets, and frustrations.

I cried so hard like I had never cried before. The kind of cry that you just want other people to be there to hug you and make you feel all right because you couldn't take it anymore.

It felt so heavy inside that I could feel the pain literally in my heart. It's like my heart was aching so bad but I can't touch it and do anything about it. I just had to hold my chest so hard to make the pain go away. It also felt like a stone struck my throat was about to come out. But nothing came out. Just my silent cries for help inside the covered bunk beds in the hostels of the different places I had been.

There were nights when I didn't cry, but I couldn't sleep because when I was about to, my heart turned into full pumping mode. I would then have a hard time breathing. I would catch up with the heart that went ballistic. I became so anxious about a lot of things. Anxiety turned into panic attacks in the middle of the night. It was very very scary. Alone, away from home.

When I felt a little bit better coming back home, the pandemic happened. Everyone was restricted from going around. Social gatherings were cut and we were now forced to be on our own devices. It shook me again, mentally, but quite a bit mild this time. I stopped talking to friends and just turned to my phone to play for endless hours. I slept, ate, play, repeat.

I had this habit of not telling friends what I felt, especially the bad things that happened to me and how I felt about them. I didn't want to burden them with the bad things in my life.

It didn't quite sit well on me. Those emotions bottled up and I didnt know what to do about them.

But I continuously pushed through. Lived.

There were so many instances that I wanted to ask for help; that I wanted to just talk about me to someone who knows how to direct my emotions properly, but it just didn't happen for so many reasons. I think I'm still a little bit afraid to face my own demons and have someone to properly sit down and talk about them.

But for a lot of reasons I felt a bit better every day. I think what is helping me is the thought that my family and friends have been there to support me in all aspects of my life. When I was living at the worst time in my life, my family came together to help me get through it. I could not do anything more than let them see that I am getting better.

I want to get better.

I still have moments here and there, but I just have to remind myself that I am not alone. Not anymore. I now breathe the air with the people I know who would give me the strength to go on.

Life is not a period. It is a semicolon; it consists of a pause; a series of events; it neither stops nor disappears; it remains to exist especially when it has something to live for: we are something we live for.

To love ourselves and live for it; such a great thing to do in life.

#blog #writing #mentalhealth #awareness #live #love #life #Youtube

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one-winged-dreams · 3 years

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#vent #sort of #i talked to my therapist for the first time in a couple months #we were talking about my downward spiral and how literally nothing is working #like even she agrees medication isn't going to cut it #so she hesitantly recommended something really controversial #she basically straight up told me i should look into electroconvulsive therapy #my case is apparently THAT severe #she said she practically never recommends it but i'm progressively getting worse and nothing i do is working #i have very mixed feelings about this because 1. oh my god i never thought i'd be THAT person #2. i'm wondering if i'm really that desperate for treatment #and 3. it sounds really really REALLY scary #i'm reading up about it and sweet christ #i don't know what the fuck to do #i think i'm gonna keep trying drug roulette for a while (which i really don't have high hopes for honestly)#i'm wondering if i'll get to the point of such desperation that i'll actively consider it #i'm mostly just airing out my thoughts but if any of you have any opinions feel free to share them

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storiesbymads · 3 years

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GIVE IT UP ( tyson jost . )

You find yourself at your ex’s house party despite the fact that you’ve pretty much convinced him and yourself that you hate him. Apparently, he’s not that fond of you either. At least, that’s what he wants you to think.

warnings: smut, hate sex, unprotected sex

wc: 2.6k

add yourself to my taglist + masterlist

It was shocking of how quickly the sweet boy who once would’ve done anything to see you smile turned into the man before you that managed to get a rise out of you without even directly speaking to you.

Granted, most of that was your fault. All he’d wanted was a break, a few weeks, maybe a month apart to think things over. You’d been the one to suggest a full breakup.

“Tys-“ you stopped yourself. “Tyson.”

His pacing stalled, the hand that had been furiously running through his curls fell to rest on his hip as he turned to face where you were sitting on the couch. The couch you’d helped him pick out when he’d first moved into this apartment. The one he’d first kissed you on three years ago, though it was a bit more beat up now than it had been then. It was a faded blue in color now.

“What,” he halfway snapped. The tone of his voice caused you to flinch at his words, which almost sent Tyson into a deeper downward spiral had he not been so desperate to get through this evening without you killing each other.

“You know this isn’t working,” you said. “Not like it used to.”

“Then why are you fighting with me about taking a few weeks to figure things out,” he sighed before moving to sit on the matching ottoman in front of you.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” you said. Your jaw was trembling as you didn’t know how much longer you could keep looking him in the eye without breaking down.

Tyson’s hands were quick to start rubbing his eyes, almost painfully so as the heels of them dug in.

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered.

“Tyson.”

“I still love you,” he sighed.

“We had a great run, yeah?” you smiled sadly at him as you picked yourself up off the couch. “I’ll be back to get my things in the next week or so.”

And that probably would’ve been the end of it had Andre not been your best friend. He was, and he claimed, the best guy in your life before Tyson and he was going to stay that way after Tyson.

Sure, parties were awkward but it was nothing you couldn’t get through without a couple girl friends and some distance. And a handle of pink whitney.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped as your old college roommate gushed about her new boyfriend and their bedroom antics. “There’s no way you let him do that!”

“Long time no see, sunshine,” a familiar brown haired swede said as he pulled you into his side by the hip. You could tell the drink in his hand was far from his first based on the slur of his words and the way the snapback was situated sideways on his head.

“Hey, Dre,” you said before pecking his cheek quickly and sipping on the drink in your own hand. Contrary to your usual party behavior, you were only about half of the way through your first.

“Yeah, sunshine,” you heard Tyson say from behind you. The smile on your face wiped away into a scowl within seconds. “Long time no see.”

You opted to ignore him, continuing your conversation with your roommate, Savannah, as Andre left your side to join the beer pong game in the corner.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not my fault you’re desperate enough to come to your ex’s house party,” he mocked as he shuffled his way closer to you.

“Aw, it’s not my fault your other eye’s just begging for a matching shiner,” you cooed. You could feel his breath against your pulse point as he leaned in closer.

“Think you have it in you?” he asked, voice grovely as it dropped an octave. Scoffing, you pushed away from him in search of anyone else to talk to. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was still able to jump start your heart rate after all these years, especially after all the things he’s said to you after you’d broken up.

You shouldn’t even be going to this part. You wouldn’t be had Andre not literally dragged you into his car with a promise that you wouldn’t even see Tyson, let alone have to speak to him.

“You haven’t been out in months, sunshine,” he said as he pulled out of your apartment complex. “We miss you.”

“You missed me,” you sighed, pulling your head up from where it was resting against the cool glass of the window.

“The team misses you,” he said, temporarily taking his hand off the wheel to pinch your hip. The team minus Tyson, you thought.

The party itself was fine for a while. You’d practically attached yourself to Andre’s side, not that he was complaining. He was just glad to have you in a social situation again. You were actually having fun for the first time in a while playing flip cup with some of the guys. Tyson had practically slipped your mind, another first.

Until he decided to, rather harshly, drag you away from the table.

“What are you doing here?” he rushed out as he clicked the lock on the bathroom door.

“Dre- Andre invited me,” you stuttered. The party was still going strong outside the room and you could feel the bass through the floor.

“God, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re here because my teammate invited you?” he scoffed. The shock in his eyes had since shifted to something more of disgust.

“We broke up, Tyson,” you said.

“Exactly! We broke up!” he said, throwing his hand up in the air. Your eyes stayed glued to the lock behind him.

“I didn’t come here to see you,” you said, though it came out more like a whimper. You swore you saw something crack in Tyson’s eyes before his resolve went back up.

“That’s rich, even coming from you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Jost,” you pushed past him, wiping a tear away before it had the chance to fall as you unlocked the bathroom door.

You hated him. You hated him.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty when you found yourself there. You weren’t looking for anything, your cup was still mostly full.

How was Tyson always able to find you in a crowd? Even when you were actively avoiding him like the plague, he somehow managed to sneak up behind you and send your head into a downward spiral.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing thinking so much at a party,” an unfamiliar voice said from beside you, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “It’s just…”

“Whoa, don’t burst a blood vessel,” he smiled at you. His comment was awkward at best, but the soft look in his eyes made up for it. He was cute.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jason,” he responded, clinking your red cups together in a fake toast.

Jason, you learned, was a bartender at the Star Bar in downtown Denver. Though, that was a temporary job as he worked on his masters in biochemistry. You ended up telling him a story about the time you found yourself being escorted out of said Star Bar from dancing on the bar.

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to go to the ladie’s room,” you said, starting to walk past him in the now crowded kitchen before turning back to face the blond. “Would you mind holding my drink?”

“Sure,” Jason said, even going as far as putting his own drink down so that he could cover the top of yours fully with his hand. Maybe this party hadn’t gone completely to shit.

The line to the bathroom was nonexistent and you’d managed to finish your business in record time. You checked your appearance in the mirror before clicking the lock on the bathroom door and opening it to see the one person you really wished you hadn’t.

He pushed his way through, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing, Jost? Let me out,” you said.

“You really think you can come here and flirt with some random guy in my kitchen?” he scoffed. With every word he took another half step closer to you until your back was pressed against the far wall.

“What do you mean your kitchen?”

“Did Dre not tell you? Can’t believe this is the fourth time you’ve been here and you didn’t even know who’s apartment it was. I think that’s a little rude, if you ask me,” he cooed. Four times; he was counting. He’d made a mental note every time you’d been sitting on his couch and he’d been too fucked up about it to do anything.

His knee pushed your thighs apart as his hands found solace on the wall beside your head. You felt the sudden urge to spit in his face. Or to let him spit in yours.

This was much more possessive than he’d ever acted when you were together. Granted, he hasn’t acted the same way he’d been when you were together in the year and a half you’d been apart.

“Answer me,” he hummed. “It’s rude isn’t it.”

You tilted your head to the side in response only for Tyson’s thigh to press up further so that it was resting against your core. You took the sudden close proximity between the two of you to gauge the changes in his features. Most obviously was the beard he was sporting now, he’d never been able to accomplish more than a patch here or there while you were dating despite his best efforts. His shoulders were more filled out now, too, and his curls looked longer. He looked more… mature, if that was the word for it.

“Answer me,” he tutted. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

“You’re a lot bolder than I remember, Jost,” you gasped. There was a definite wet spot growing in your underwear at the rasp in his tone.

“You’re just as annoying,” he said before one of his hands found your hip. His mouth came crashing against yours an instant later, a rough mess of teeth clanging together as he popped the button on your jean shorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll fuck that out of you, too.”

The comment caused a gasp to slip past your lips as he removed his knee so that he could tug your bottoms to your ankles in one fell swoop. His fingers were quick in replacing the delicious pressure against your clit, circling the nub with the pad of his finger.

“Do you still make those pretty little noises you used to make?” he asked, only to pull a whimper out of you not even a second later when he slipped a finger into your hole.

“You’re still a dick,” you moaned as you dropped your head to rest against his shoulder. You bit down on the cotton of his t-shirt to conceal the whimper of emptiness as Tyson slipped his finger out of you so that he could push the band of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to slip out.

“Yeah? And you’re about to cum all over it.”

The string of profanities that followed from your part were involuntary.

He pushed into you slowly until he was halfway in before snapping his hips forward in one quick motion so that your pelvic bones were pressed together. You hadn’t felt this full since… Well, since him.

“Fucking-“ he hissed. “I forgot how tight you were.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he started thrusting his hips. You would’ve been able to admire it longer had your eyes not rolled into the back of your head. Your hand slipped down between your bodies to rub your clit only to be swatted away and replaced by Tyson’s a moment later.

His name rolled off your tongue like a chant as you felt your orgasm building with each pump of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” you said.

“That’s right, baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said. The rhythm of his thrusts was getting sloppier by the second and you could tell he was getting close. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where do you want it?”

“What?” you asked, head still very hazy from the impending orgasm.

“I can’t cum inside you—shit,” his thrusts slowed. “Where do you want it?”

“I’m on the pill,” you rushed out in hopes that he’d start fucking you again. The thought alone almost had him falling apart.

“Holy shit, ok,” he mumbled before picking up his thrusts once again. It was a step the two of you hadn’t taken before, and he was dying to see his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck, Tys,” the words came out rushed as your high washed over you. Tyson came soon after as ropes of it coated your walls in hot spurts.

Your senses came back to you as you came back down. What the fuck were you doing? Why did you allow yourself to hook up with the ex you were still pretty sure you hated in a bathroom.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing Tyson off, and subsequently out, of you so that you could pull up your shorts and button them.

“Wait, Y/N,” the flustered, blushing Tyson you thought you’d never see again made an appearance as you threw the bathroom door open just as he tucked himself back into his boxers. The fly of his blue jeans was undone as he chased you out of the bathroom, practically begging you to stop as he followed you out the front door.

“Leave me alone, Jost,” you scoffed as you watched him zip his pants out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s no way you’re gonna go back to hating me after that,” he said. You could feel his cum dripping into your panties as he spoke.

“We made our decision last year. We should’ve left it at that,” you shivered in the open exterior of his apartment complex, silently cursing yourself for thinking a jacket would ruin your outfit.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “After all of that? After a year and a half of pretending, you can’t admit it?”

“I wasn’t pretending-“

“Like hell you weren’t. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret even mentioning the idea of a break between us. What we had doesn‘t just go away,” he took a step towards you. You could still hear the music from inside his place, though it was fainter now and still half-muffled by the various conversations just past the front door.

“We weren’t working out,” you said, though it came out as more of a squeak.

“You and I both know we could’ve worked on it. We were stupid to let what we had go over nothing,” he said. “I miss you.”

Your resolve was breaking more with every word.

“Jost, what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, allowing him to get close enough to take your hand in his. It was quite the contrast to the way he’d been with you not even ten minutes ago.

“Would you stop calling me that?” his features were screwed tight as he asked. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“Tyson,” you said, only to be greeted with a knowing look in his brown eyes. “Tys.”

“We’re gonna work out,” he said. “We’re gonna work out because…”

“Because?”

“Because I still love you. And I’m not letting you go again,” his voice had lowered to a whisper and it shook and his forehead was dangerously close to resting against yours. Within the span of an hour, he’d transformed back into the shy boy you’d given your heart to three years ago on his blue couch.

“Ok,” you whispered back, closing the distance and resting your foreheads against each other only for Tyson to bridge the gap completely with a tilted head to plant his lips against your own.

tagged @ptersparkers @annedub @corebore123 @damndunner @kiedhara @watermelon05 @sidscrosbyy @thelionkingpw @besthockeyfics @iwantahockeyhimbo @beauvibaby

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost smut #tyson jost x reader #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl smut #hockey #hockey imagine #hockey smut

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sunsetinmyvein · 3 years

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Ran Into Some Complications - Matty Healy

Thank you to the ever lovely @imagine-that-100 for the request from the prompt list.

Why did time always seem to go by so slowly when you were stuck waiting by yourself? Was there a reason that seconds seemed to feel like minutes? Was it just mind games or did it literally create some weird kind of wormhole? Probably the former. I checked my phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping that I finally had a ‘on my way!’ message sitting there, only to come up empty. Again. So much for meeting at the bar for six - it was already six thirty. I sighed to myself, thanking the bartender as they handed me the cider I had ordered.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing at the bar all by yourself?” I heard a voice call from behind me. I instantly gritted my teeth as I turned to face the source of the sleazy comment. Sure enough, the crooked smile, the greasy, slicked back hair, he looked as shady as he sounded.

“Just waiting for a mate.” I said, trying to diffuse this situation before it started.

“They left you here all alone?” He asked as he slid into the stool next to mine. “Let me buy you a drink.” He added as he tried to flag the bartender down. Ugh. Why.

“No thanks, got one.” I said as I held up my cider. “And they’re on their way.” I dismissed.

“I’ll just keep this stool warm for them, then.” He grinned. I could smell the whiskey on his breath. Gross. This evening was headed in a downward spiral if I didn’t cut this off soon.

“I- you really don’t have to.” I grimaced, my eyes darting around the room to try and spot an easy way out of this. I caught sight of a group of four men walking in, eyeing them hopefully. The one closest to the bar seemed well kept. He had a grey suit jacket on, his straight hair was neatly combed back, he was laughing with his friends. He seemed friendly. He’d do. “Oh, this is him now.”

I hopped off my stool, stepping in front of the dark-haired man. “What took you so long?” I asked with a warm smile.

He stared at me in bewilderment, “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Come here.” I said with a light laugh, trying to pretend that this wasn’t awkward.

“What? Why?” He asked with a confused frown.

I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him down closer to my level to try and not be overhead. “Please just come here.” I said, trying to look as imploring as I possibly could. This was going to look bad on me if he didn’t come with me. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if this guy shrugged me off and I had to walk back over there. He stared at me for a long moment, before turning back to his friend who had stopped to see what was happening.

“I, erm, suppose I’ll be back in a bit?” He said with a shrug.

Thankfully, this man came willingly with me back towards the bar. And I was even more grateful for him being quite clued on. He took one look between me, and the greasy dude sitting opposite me, to get the hint.

“So sorry, love. Traffic was awful.” He said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. Geez, he was really going all in. I felt my face burning at the unexpected attention. At least it was going to look the part. “Have you already got a drink?”

“Yeah. Do you want one?” I nodded, turning to him. He really was standing awfully close to me. At this proximity I was able to smell the pleasant smell of the aftershave that he had used.

“I’ll just have my usual.” He said with a smirk.

“Uhh…” My eyes widened as I processed his answer. Fuck. Had this guy just agreed to help me to be equally as annoying as the sleazy one? Maybe I’d just made this situation so much worse. I quickly scanned over his appearance. The neat hair, the grey jacket, he seemed like the kind of person to drink a clear drink. “Gin and tonic.” I ordered apprehensively.

“Close enough.” He chuckled under his breath.

The bartender brought over the extra drink and passed it over to my new found fake date.

“How was work? Did you get that booking sorted out?” He asked casually. God, he was smooth. He was definitely the right person to have grabbed to act like who I was waiting for.

“Yeah! It was a hassle but I got there in the end.” I laughed with a nod, playing along. I was surprised at how easy this felt, to be honest. This guy gave me the vibes of someone that I’d like to have a genuine conversation with, rather than a pretend one. “What about you?” I asked back. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Taking a quick glance at it, I saw that it was a message from the friend I had been waiting on – saying that they couldn’t make it. Phew. Good thing I had dragged over someone else instead of just waiting.

“The studio was a bit gruelling but that’s nothing new.” He shrugged. Studio? What on earth did this guy do for a living? He must’ve noticed me frowning at his comment, because he just raised an eyebrow like he was challenging me to question it. In taking a good look at him, this guy was a bit of a looker. There were definitely worse people I could’ve grabbed. “But this evening is making up for it.” He added as he took a sip from his glass. Wait. Was he flirting?

It seemed that whatever this guy was doing worked, because my creepy stalker decided to get up and walk off. I let out a sigh of relief as I looked over at the empty stool.

“Thank god he left.” I huffed.

“He’ll come back.” The dark-haired man shrugged as he slipped into the empty seat. I gave him a questioning look as to how he could know that. “He left his whiskey on the bar.” He added as he gestured towards it.

I nodded in understanding. It was nice at least to have a breather to recompose myself and finally have a sip of my drink. “Thanks for this.” I said after a minute of silence.

“It’s okay.” He replied with what looked like a genuine smile, picking up his gin. “I can think of much worse ways to spend my night.” He added as he eyed me over the rim of his glass.

Now that was definitely flirting. Part of my brain found it ironic to have replaced one guy trying to hit on me with another. But… I didn’t mind so much with this one. “Are you flirting with me?” I accused.

“Are you blushing?” He shot back. The air of confidence surrounding this guy was undeniably attractive.

Before I had a chance to respond, greasy hair man was back. He frowned at the offender sitting in his stool.

“Do you wan-” He started to say, turning to me. But he was cut off before he could finish whatever he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe that you also listen to them!” My fake date laughed loudly. He fell into these shenanigans far too readily. But I wasn’t about to complain. “Shh… listen…” He said, holding up a hand to quiet us. I stopped talking, trying to listen to whatever he had heard. “That’s the sound of me falling in love with you.” He continued.

I let out an uneasy laugh, trying to shrug off his comment. “I’ve been listening to them for ages.” I responded, trying to keep up with how quickly he was building this story.

“Ah, sorry, mate. Just nice to be together after a long day.” He said with a corny grin as he placed a hand on my knee. I looked down at it for a moment, trying very hard to keep my reactions to his blatant flirting in check. “Matty, by the way.” This guy - Matty, said as he stuck out his hand to sleazy dude. “And you are..?” He asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Leaving.” He answered abruptly as he reached between us and picked up his whiskey, before heading on his way.

“Well… that worked.” I chuckled.

“Seems I was an effective deterrent.” Matty said with a nod as he took a swig from his glass.

“You did a good job with that.” I agreed. “You were far too good at it, though.”

“Too good?” He asked with a surprised grin. “That doesn’t seem like it should be a problem.”

I shrugged. “Just makes me question how many times girls have roped you into situations like this.”

“Roping me into it? What if I was the one trying to get out of the awkward situation?” He questioned.

“You really get that much unwanted attention?”

“More than you can imagine.”

We chatted for a bit, actually starting to get to know each other properly now that we didn’t have to play pretend that we already did. It turned out that he was in a band, hence the studio time earlier today. The guys that he had come in with were his band mates, getting a drink after a long day. He had a general sense of charisma and charm about him. The more I talked to him, the more I wanted to keep talking to him. And thankfully the flirting dropped off once there was no longer anyone standing nearby to try and convince. It was easier on my brain to process our conversation without having to also process an attractive man hitting on me. Before I knew it, an hour had passed. I was surprised that he was still hanging around, given that what I had asked of him was done now.

“Did you want get out of here?” Matty eventually offered nonchalantly.

I choked on the cider I had been sipping, trying to recompose my thoughts. “What?” I spluttered.

“He’s still side eyeing you across the bar,” He explained, gesturing towards the other side of the room. He was right, sleazy man was boring holes into the side of my head. “if we leave together then he should get the hint.” Right. That made much more sense than the alternative reason as to why he’d ask that.

Matty’s plan worked. We were not followed when we stepped outside into the brisk night air and ordered an uber. He sent a message to his friends, letting them know that he had to leave. I felt bad. His night had been forced to end because of me. I told him that it was fine now, that I’d be happy to head home by myself and he could go back inside to his friends. But he insisted that he make sure I get home safe. The sentiment was pretty heart-warming, to be honest. I doubt I could’ve picked a better guy to help me in such a shitty situation. Once we were settled in the back of the car, I could finally breathe a bit easier. It was nice to not feel like I was being shadowed.

“Sorry for ruining your night.” I apologised.

“Ah, you didn’t ruin it.” He said with a dismissive hand wave. “I dread the thought about what might’ve happened if I hadn’t shown up.” He continued, staring out the window pensively, before he seemed to knock himself out of whatever train of thought he had been on. “But good thing I was.” He said as he turned back to me with a bright grin.

“Well, thank you.” I nodded. “You were good company, for a fake date.” I chuckled, nudging his side playfully.

“Well… I wouldn’t mind taking you out to a bar again as a not fake date.” He offered, running a hand through his hair. He… what? My brain took a second to comprehend what he was suggesting. “If you’d let me.” He quickly added.

My thoughts kicked into gear as I realised that he thought I might decline. “Yeah. Yeah! That sounds like a good idea.” I agreed.

“I assure you, I’m a much better real date than fake date.”

#matthew healy x reader #matty healy x reader #sunsetinmyvein prompts #sunsetinmyvein requests #sunsetinmyvein

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Text

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request.

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE*

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.” Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.” The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.” Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

#oc: fane lavellan #welcome to the future! :3 #where fane is more complete and content but suffering in different ways #no one said the path would be easy *shakes head sadly*#again. fane is...a ball of many things and his titles and names show that XD #*thinks about writing post-trepasser shenanigans* :3 #fane used to fuck off elgar'nan as a dragon so HARD #maybe why the god vengeance decided to personally attack him #HMMMM.#dragon age #male lavellan

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casuallyimagining · 3 years

Text

You and Me

Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi has something he needs to ask you before the Grammys. Genre: slight angst, kind of fluffy at the end? Word Count: 1,865 Rating: T (there’s some swearing) Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here.

As he was leaving to go out to lunch with Namjoon and Jin, Yoongi told you that he had news he wanted to tell you when he got home. Which, of course, is possibly the worst thing to leave a person with.

What could he want to talk to you about?

You had a feeling you knew. Physical therapy had been progressing well for Yoongi, and while he still had a lot of healing to do, he was to the point where he could do almost all normal, daily tasks without help. He still had to wear his sling when he went out, and he was still in quite a bit of pain, but it was to the point where he would probably start back to work soon. And, of course, he would probably be moving back to the dorms again, and you would return to your lives pre-November.

Which meant you would go from seeing him literally all the time to only seeing him a few times a week--a return to taking him meals in your spare time, to sitting in the studio watching him work, to short dates to go grab coffee or a milkshake on his rare breaks. Thankfully, you had written the code for the Genius Lab down in your notes app, because after almost two and a half months of not using it, you weren’t confident that you remembered it.

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you could go back to sustaining yourself on text messages, and video calls, and brief, 15-minute meetings. Adjusting to him being there constantly--underfoot when you least expected him to be, but always there to lend an ear or a hand or just generally be there for you--had taken some time. Your routines had melded together so quickly, that having him wandering around your apartment at two in the afternoon was no more uncommon than you not being able to find a series to watch on Netflix. You knew it was coming eventually, but you weren’t sure you could stand the separation.

You would, though, for his sake. You would walk through fire for him.

And it would only be for a short time, right? He had promised you on Christmas. As soon as he was able, he was going to start moving out of the dorms and into his own apartment. He wanted you to join him, wanted you to move in with him. But you weren’t sure when that would be. He had never given you a timetable for when he expected to start moving. Which was fine, you supposed. He could take his time.

But the whole thing made you anxious, even though you knew it shouldn’t. What if he got too busy once he got back to normal life and forgot? What if he decided he wanted to stay at the dorms indefinitely? Worse, what if he changed his mind and he decided he did want to move, just not with you?

Your mind raced as you sat in your office at your piano, trying to lose yourself in the music. You wanted to believe that you had nothing to worry about, that even though things would change, you would continue to be a priority in Yoongi’s life, that you wouldn’t be taking a huge step backwards in your relationship. Somehow, you managed to distract yourself enough that you barely noticed you were playing “Spring Day” until you were almost done with the song.

You continued to play through some of the other songs you had memorized. Most of them, you noticed, were BTS--a strange side-effect of who you spent your time with and your students, the most prominent of which was, of course, Jimin.

As you played the final chord of “Black Swan,” the sound of gentle clapping made you jump, causing you to hit your knee on the bottom of your piano.

“Fuck,” you hissed, rubbing where the corner of the wood caught your leg. Now that you weren’t so surprised, you could see Yoongi standing in the doorway of your shared office, a look of concern barely masking his earlier amusement.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me come in,” he said softly. “I put some leftovers in the fridge, and Namjoon made us stop for hotteok on the way back, so that’s in there, too. Are you okay?” He crouched down beside you, his hand falling to your knee.

“Unsurprisingly, that is not the first time I’ve done that,” you said with a laugh. “I’m honestly kind of shocked there’s not some sort of dent in the wood.”

Yoongi offered you an amused smile. “Well I’m glad there’s no damage. To you or the piano.” He leaned in to kiss you as he stood, the action quick and easy--like he had done it a thousand times before--but contained no less love. “You’ve been holding out on me.” You could hear the mirth in his voice as he moved one of his paintings to pull the office chair closer to the piano.

You waved off his comment, shutting the lid on the keys of the piano. “I don’t take credit for the things Park Jimin forces me to memorize.”

“Maybe you should start.” He shrugged, and the two of you fell silent. After a moment, he wiped his hands on his thighs and looked at you, though dropped his gaze to his lap the second you made eye contact. “So, I was talking with Si-Hyuk-hyung, and he had some… news he wanted me to pass on.” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Was this what he was talking about before he left?

“News?” you question, trying to play it off like you hadn’t spent the past few hours in a downward spiral of anxiety. “About…?”

“He and I were talking about us.” Yoongi gestured to himself and then to you. “He asked me if we wanted to go public any time soon.”

Your eyes went wide. “I… what? Why?”

“He apparently talked to Jin, Namjoon, and Jungkook about it, too.” He shrugged. “Si-Hyuk-hyung didn’t say why, but we think it’s because of the Grammys.” When you continued to look confused, he elaborated. “I mean, that’s kind of the thing, right? If you win an award, you turn and hug the person you love and then you go to receive it?”

“Oh, so you’re expecting to win?” you teased, trying to pretend like your cheeks weren’t a little flushed.

“Well, I think…” he stammered. “I think we should be prepared. Just in case.”

“So what did you tell PD-nim?”

“I told him I would talk to you about it.” You hummed. “He said he’d leave it up to us, but he’d like at least three days’ notice so they can prepare a statement.”

You stayed silent, unsure of what to say. Of course you had thought about it, about what going public would do to your relationship. You had considered the potential hate from the fans you would receive, and the fact that your private life, no matter how hard you tried, would never be fully private after. You knew about the strain it could put on your relationship with Yoongi, about how the saesangs and the paparazzi drove a wedge between many idols--particularly male idols--and their significant others.

But at the same time, you wanted to be able to go out with Yoongi without having to constantly look over your shoulder, without having to worry about someone from Dispatch seeing, or a well-meaning fan posting on social media. You wanted to be able to go with Yoongi to events, to publicly support him at concerts.

You sighed and reached for his hand. “What do you think?”

“It’s what you want, jagi. My life won’t really change much,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Yoongi, please.” You didn’t like how exasperated your voice sounded, but you could feel your anxiety starting to spike again. “I need to know what you’re thinking.”

“Honestly?” You nodded. “I don’t know. It actually kind of terrifies me.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I’ve seen idols’ careers die when dating scandals come out. But at the same time, I want us to have a normal life.” You snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s very sudden,” you said softly, gripping his hand with both of yours. “The Grammys are in a few weeks. We’d have to do something in the next few days.”

“I’ll tell him we’d like to wait, then.”

You hummed, tracing his hand with your index finger. “We’d be able to do it how we want?”

“That’s what Si-Hyuk-hyung said. I imagine there’s a limit, but I don’t think he’d lie about that.”

“How much of an advanced warning did he say he wanted?”

“Three days.”

Would it really be that bad? You weren’t a stranger to hate comments and wildly unfounded criticism, although not quite to the scale it might get to. Yoongi rarely looked at social media, unless he was posting a selca to Twitter. And what? You might have to private your Instagram? Delete your Twitter? Honestly, it might do you some good to get away from social media. You trusted Yoongi to not drop you the second things got tough, and there were six other members of BTS there to help lessen any damage his career might take. As long as the two of you could weather it together, you were confident that you could come out on the other side relatively unscathed.

“Fuck it.”

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes were wide.

“Fuck it. Let’s do it.” You squeezed his hand, a small smile starting to form.

Yoongi’s eyes locked on yours. He was smiling, but you could see him hesitate. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Ask PD-nim if we can do something right before they send out their release. I think it’ll go over better coming from you.”

“You’re already planning this?” It wasn’t a question. He laughed, a sweet, gummy smile spreading across his face. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do this. I’ll text Si-Hyuk-hyung and let him know.”

You watched him slide his phone out of his pocket and unlock it. “Hey Yoon?” He hummed, continuing to type for a moment before looking up at you. “We’re gonna be okay no matter what, right? Still us?”

Yoongi pulled you to him as he stood up, his arms immediately wrapping around your back to hold you close. “Don’t be silly. Of course we will be.” You felt him sigh as he tucked his chin onto your shoulder. “I can’t promise that things won’t change, but we’ll be okay.”

You hugged him, your arms around his shoulders, careful not to press too tightly on his bad one. This certainly hadn’t been where you were expecting the conversation to go when he walked out the door that morning, but you hoped he was right. Telling the fans was an important step to take--and an inevitable one, if you wanted your relationship to last. “You and me?” You pulled away slightly to look him in the eyes.

He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. “‘Till the end.”

Read more of the series here

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #bts suga x reader #bts suga #bts yoongi #bts yoongi x reader #thebtswritersclub

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misslynn99 · 3 years

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Epicenter: Chapter Two

Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Link on AO3: Epicenter

Link to Chapter 1

Author: misslynn_99 (Me!)

The next morning, the café regulars buzzed around the TV monitors, excitedly chatting about the news. Official footage of the attack had finally been aired. Concrete flew everywhere as the villain lashed out against heroes, sending distraught civilians fleeing from the scene. The scene that every news station had on repeat, however, was that of several tons of concrete on a direct collision course for a young family, until Ground Zero put himself between the two. He squared back one shoulder to pulverize the rubble with a blast, and in that moment, his wild eyes were molten flames, the fine cascade of dust casting a hazy halo around his form.

It was such a harsh contrast to the villain swinging a pillar of concrete immediately after, colliding directly with the hero’s chest and sending him hurtling back against the harsh exterior of another building, slumping bonelessly on the ground.

“He saved them.” You whispered to yourself. Icy needles twisted in your chest. Eijirou had trusted you to care for his closest friend at his most vulnerable. The café was much closer than any hospital to the scene, but your heart skipped a beat, fluttering in astonishment. “He could have died. It’s a wonder he didn’t.” Just how close had Ground Zero been to death’s door when he showed up here?

“Blasty is lucky he’s got a rad, manly partner like me.” Eijirou’s voice startled you, suddenly far too close to your ear.

“Hi!” You squeaked. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

“You think I’d let my best girl go un-thanked after saving my partner’s ass yesterday?” His arms swept you into a tight bear hug, twirling your feet off of the floor. Eijirou’s easy smile seemed to smooth over the awkward tension from the day before, as if it were no more than an insignificant blight of an otherwise sunny day.

“Quit harassing the woman, Shitty Hair. We’re here on business.”

“She likes it.” Eijirou had the gall to stick out his tongue. “Isn’t that right?”

“I, I don’t mind.” You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, dropping your head forward, and you prayed that no one would notice. This crush was spiraling out of control, as the sturdy muscles that could shatter any obstacle and strong enough to lift cars supported you easily in his embrace.

“ ‘Don’t mind’ isn’t the same as ‘like’.” Ground Zero’s mouth turned even further downward into a scowl. Reluctantly, Eijirou set you down, and you felt cold at the absence of his touch. The tension settled again like a thick cloud, choking out whatever embers of affection you felt for the red haired hero.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” The red-head’s own face was dusted with faint pink, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem.” You tried your best to smile kindly, wincing internally at the memory of his flinch. “Why don’t I get you both some coffee on the house? It’s the least I can do for everything you two do to protect the city.”

“One black coffee it is then!” Eijirou perked back up.

“So, I take it you’ll have the latte, extra heavy cream with two pumps caramel, two pumps cinnamon, and cinnamon-brown sugar mix dusted on top?”

Ground Zero’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to say that so loud.”

“No shame.” You chuckled despite yourself. “Plenty of people take their coffee sweet, too.”

“Don’t spare Blasty’s feelings!” Eijirou laughed. “Even Mr. ‘Nothing is spicy enough’ likes sweets on occasion.”

“You better shut your mouth!” Ground Zero snapped, his tone climbing with each word. Curiously, Eijirou kept laughing, and tapped at his own ear.

“Right, got it.” The blonde grumbled. “Too loud.”

“Here you go, boys.”

“I have a name, you know.” The blonde held the cup up, scowling. “I’m off work, damn it. You called Shitty hair by his name on the cup.”

“It’s not like you introduced yourself between eating shit against the building and going in for surgery.” Eijirou scoffed.

“And you did?”

“Kiri stayed with me while they gave me IV fluids.” You supplied bashfully. “And I wanted to know when you made it out okay.”

“Call me Bakugou then.” He made a strangled noise. “When I’m not in suit tearing shit up, I don’t wanna hear ‘Ground Zero’ from you, got it?

“Not your given name?” Eijirou seemed to take a savage joy in goading on the explosive hero. “That’s awful cold, Katsuki. She did save you from a hospital stay and a month off of hero work.”

“Or Katsuki, whatever.” If looks could kill, Eijirou would have dropped dead in his tracks. Bakugou’s eye twitched and small firework-pops crackled off of his palms, clenched into fists at his side. You hoped that the café regulars were too enamored with the news and their own conversations to notice the sparks flying.

“I can call you Bakugou, if that’s what make you more comfortable. Wouldn’t want to get on your bad side.” You chuckled, carefully watching his expression for his reaction to the playful jab.

“Kacchan’s bark is worse than his bite, at least off of the battlefield.” A new voice drifted in from the door. The emerald curls, gelled up from his undercut, were unmistakable. “I’m afraid that we didn’t get introduced last night. I’m Deku, but you can call me Midoriya if you’d like.”

“Kacchan?” You grinned wickedly. “Isn’t that so cute!”

Bakugou bristled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fucking nerd!” He whipped around to snarl at the green-haired hero that had just walked in. For someone who was effectively co-workers with the number one hero, Bakugou acted like he despised the man.

“Aw, pump the breaks Kacchan.” Midoriya scrunched his freckled nose in a wide grin. “I’m just here to say hello to the woman who saved your life last night. So, this is where Kiri has been getting your coffee from? It’s such a nice little café, I think I’ll have stop by more often.”

“Like hell you will! We found it first!” Bakugou growled, stepping between you and Deku, while Eijirou chimed in the background, “I think you mean that I found it first.”

“Boys, boys, you’re all very pretty.” You ducked around the pro hero’s side, attempting to soothe the bickering. “I have plenty of coffee to go around. “

“You’re not keeping her as your personal barista and healer, Kacchan.”

“What happened to keeping this on the down-low?” Bakugou suddenly stiffened, whispering harshly.

“I think someone is feeling a bit embarrassed.” Eijirou rolled his eyes.

“I got my shit rocked on national television, of fucking course I feel embarrassed.” The blonde snapped. “But for her safety, I thought we agreed to keep any rescue shit-talk out of the public eye.”

Wincing, you looked up at him. “I think they’re calling you saving that family the rescue of the year though. And lots of people have minor healing quirks.”

Whipping his head back and forth, he snagged the strings of your apron and tugged you behind the coffee bar, through the doorway into the kitchen.

“Wait!” The two other heroes followed suit, chasing you as Bakugou dragged you out of the public eye.

“You don’t have a ‘minor healing quirk.’ “ He scowled, placing a hand on each of your shoulders, hands trembling as if he were resisting the urge to shake you. You could feel the residual heat of his calloused palms, the threat of an explosion ghosting along your skin and sending shivers up your spine.

“You have a self-destructive healing quirk that has major potential to get you kidnapped. Do you know the League of Villains would do to get their hands on you? Or fuck it, the Hero Commission? They’d keep you caged up like some animal to fix up their toys as they broke so that they could be sent out scot-free again.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Midoriya and Eijirou recoil, especially as the blonde hero turned his ire towards them once again. “Is some kind of joke to you two? Kirishima, if you could take two minutes to keep it in your pants, and Deku, if you could be serious, we need to come up with a plan.”

“Yes, Kacchan.” Midoriya and Eijirou nodded.

“Where do you live?” His burning eyes narrowed in your direction once again.

Swallowing thickly, you met his gaze. “In the loft above the café.”

“Hmm. Who all knows about the full extent of your quirk?”

“Just my parents, and my best friend from middle school, who moved to the states while we were in college.”

“Maybe she should stay with one of us?” Midoriya offered. “Just to see if anyone’s decided to target her?”

Panic froze your feet to the floor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” You laughed nervously, fiddling with the apron strings tied at your hip. “I mean, you’re all very nice, but I could never ask that of anyone. I’m up at 4 in the morning to get the café ready to open at five, and walking alone in the dark is not my forte.” Especially if I might as well have a big target painted on my forehead now.

“The League definitely keeps an eye on our flats. They might not have made the connection that she’s done anything yet, but moving her in would be a surefire way to draw their attention. Also, there’s no way the Commission would just ignore someone else hanging out all the time.” Eijirou argued. “I think it would be better to set up surveillance on the café and her loft, and maybe get her a panic button or something.”

“A panic button.” Bakugou snorted. “I don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but there are these novel things called ‘cellphones.’ “

“And if she can’t call?” Midoriya raised an eyebrow.

“Brave words for someone who dropped his location to Icy-Hot, with literally no context, in the middle of an alleyway, and he magically appeared anyways.”

Sighing and stepping between the two bickering men, Eijirou held his hand out expectantly. “Here, I’ll put our numbers in your phone. We should probably scope out your apartment later.”

“I close at five tonight.” You offered, passing your cell to him, contacts open. “I’ll probably be done cleaning up by six, but you’re free to drop by whenever you get the chance after that. All of this feels pretty crazy though. It’s not like I did anything out in the open.”

Turning on the full force of his overwhelming intensity, Bakugou rounded on you once again, having caught the tail of your conversation. “There’s a couple articles floating around. You’re in the pictures, being floated to the hospital, and some low life bloggers are wondering how I was fine so soon afterwards, when Recovery Girl was on the other side of the country for some other case.” Venom dripped from his words, as if this were your fault somehow.

“It’s not my fault that I helped you!” Anger leaked into your voice. You couldn’t believe that he had the audacityto blame you for this. “Don’t talk to me like it is. I couldn’t not do anything. It’s a wonder that hit didn’t do worse, and I am certainly not responsible for them taking me to the hospital with you.”

In frustration, you stormed out of the kitchen, straightening your apron and apologizing to the handful of customers who were waiting by the cash register. A friendly smile and a few discounted coffees later, they sat down at a booth. The heroes were still in your kitchen, and you felt your resolve to ignore them crumbling. “I did give Kiri and Bakugou free coffee earlier.” You mumbled to yourself, a mischievous idea taking root; Bakugou’s buttons were so easy to press.

Leaning around the corner, you poked your head back through the kitchen doorway. The heroes froze, their argument in low tones evaporating with your return. “Midoriya!” You grinned, drawing out the syllables playfully and deliberately ignoring the blonde hero’s angry stare. “How do you like your coffee? Sweet as you are?”

“Uh, umm” He stuttered and his eyes darted between you and the door. “With oat milk, white chocolate and toffee, and iced please.”

“Coming right up! On the house.” The sound of sparks dancing off of Bakugou’s palms eased your flare of anger, taking a little bit of satisfaction in riling up the blonde in return, and you set about making the drink.

The trio must have finally decided to drop their discussion, and shortly followed you out to wait by the coffee bar. Bakugo turned his back to you, eyeing the door and clutching his coffee while Midoriya and Eijirou resigned themselves to facing you, their awkward expressions apologetic. The other café patrons were thankfully still transfixed by the TVs, oblivious to the situation at hand.

“Here’s your phone back.” Eijirou mumbled, setting your phone on the counter. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s just frustrated and annoyed, nothing against you personally. It’s just kinda how he is, ya know? He takes it out on everyone. He’s been this way since he was a teenager, but he doesn’t blame you. Promise.”

“Hmm. I suppose I can accept your apology on his behalf, just this once.” You whispered back, sliding a coffee cup to Midoriya, who sipped it gratefully.

“We’ll be back later. Come on, nerds.” Bakugo’s voice was gruff as he called over his shoulder. “We have a meeting and a patrol shift soon.”

The heroes left and an unease settled in your gut at their absence, acutely missing their larger than life presence. Even as the customers milled about, coming up for refills and pastries, their words weighed on your mind. Villains and Heroes had never been a major point of contention in your life; a quirk like yours wasn’t suited for the spotlight, and like thousands of others, accepted your fate as a civilian.

The coffee shop felt like a homage to another era, before quirks existed. The small planters bloomed in the window display under your mindful care, without any sparks of magic to enhance their color or growth. The coffee beans that arrived each week were roasted delicately by hand, and each new drink was born from trial and error; no surprising powers of charm or persuasion lured customers to your door. It was an honest life that you were proud of, built with hard work and love.

Ringing up another customer and brewing the earl grey tea for a London Fog, it felt like your head was ringing. Your quirk had never been an active threat to your well-being. You had gained some control over the years, having only been able to tend minor scratches and bruises as a child, but never showed enough promise to be recruited into the medical field as a young teen. Even now, the drawbacks were too great. Healing left you exhausted, and the more extensive the injury, the greater the fatigue.

It wasn’t like you came from a family of fantastic heroes either. Your mother worked as a doctor in a wound care and surgical center because she could clean infected tissue at the expense of the patient’s energy. Your father’s quirk was completely unrelated to your own, allowing him to sculpt metal by heating his hands, albeit without flames. It was hard to believe that the arguably worse version of your mother’s quirk made you a target, but the underlying assumptions behind it sent shivers of fear down your spine. If there was no regard for your well-being, your quirk could be indispensable, could be used to patch anyone up at the expense of draining you dry.

Nevertheless, the hours ticked by, dread worrying the pit of your stomach. Bile rose in the back of your throat the longer your anxious thoughts raced. Without the grace of someone with a more offensive quirk, there was little you could do to defend yourself.

Maybe Bakugou was right to be annoyed, but he didn’t have the right to be such an ass about it. Closing time was only half an hour away, and the customers had dwindled in the shop. The pleasant humming of customers faded, exposing every raw nerve that you had. The last person was out, and at 5:06,

... there was a knock.

Snapping to attention, you jerked towards the doors, feeling a strange mixture of relief and annoyance upon seeing Bakugou waiting by the door. Sighing, you called out, “It’s still unlocked.”

He didn’t enter though. He leaned partially against the window with one hand, the other shoved deep into the pocket of his white jeans. He had the hood up on his black and gold hoodie, but not enough to conceal his distinctive blonde hair and you could have sworn his red eyes could burn a hole through anything as he peered in the window. He must not have heard you, and you steeled your resolve to go and let him in.

“Shitty Hair sent me.” He grumbled.

“Hmm.” You hummed in response, wandering back behind the counter to tuck away the extra bottles of syrup and take down the pastry display. “Make yourself at home then.”

The hero looked even more uncomfortable, his shifting gaze never lingering on anything for too long, before he spotted the bottle of disinfectant. To your surprise, he started wiping off tables, but you don’t breath a word, afraid to break the uncanny silence.

At 5:45, Eijirou, Midoriya, and a woman you could only assume was Uravity knocked, and Bakugou dropped the supplies as if he had been burned. Midoriya was the first to heckle him, teasing “Kacchan, I didn’t know that you could be helpful!”

“I was bored, you damn nerd. That’s all.”

The heroes were almost unrecognizably causal. Uravity and Midoriya were in matching letterman jackets, sky blue and patterned with delicate pink cherry blossoms falling from slender black branches, with Shouto written across the back in a beautiful script. Eijirou was also devastatingly casual, wearing baggy, low-rise black jeans and a white v-neck that dipped dangerously below his collar bones. His long red hair was up in his trademark loose ponytail, spilling over his shoulders and down his back.

“So nice to see you again! I’m Uraraka.” Her smile glowed as she bounced forward to greet you. “It’s nice to really see the place that Kirishima and Bakugo talk so much about.”

A frown creased your features. “I think I would have remembered Bakugou coming in for coffee. Doesn’t Kiri just get his?” You mumbled, panicking as you realized it was out loud.

Thankfully, Uraraka giggled. “No, he just won’t let Kiri get coffee from anywhere else now. I think the whole agency knows his order by now.”

“It’s just the least shitty.” Bakugou growled. “But whatever. I have shit to do, so let’s get this over with.”

“Lead the way.” Midoriya smiled kindly.

The stairs to the flat were in the kitchen, the door tucked out of sight next to a supply closet. Butterflies fluttered in your chest, and a sudden self-consciousness that almost froze you in place. The apartment was an intimate insight into your life and personality. Your reading was on the living room table, and cherished photos hung on the walls. Is my laundry hanging up to dry? You winced at the thought.

“Welcome!” You forced a smile and led them to the kitchen table. “So, what do you need to check out?”

“We’re not trying to invade your privacy more than necessary.” Midoriya looked solemn, glancing at you shyly from underneath his lashes. “I was thinking we should put a camera right in the stairway that faces the entrance, another on the fire escape, and one on the outside of each of your windows. Then, we can just set up a bunch around the café.”

“Oh,” You relaxed into your seat. “That’s not as bad as I was expecting.”

Midoriya and Uraraka were sitting ram-rod straight at your table, posture stiff and schooled. Eijirou was examining your end table in the living room, carefully turning your favorite candle in his hands, while Bakugou trailed behind like a sullen shadow.

“We just want to make sure you’re safe.” Uraraka reassured. “We’ll probably change the patrol route to make sure that we stop by here, but we won’t be in the shop every time. If nothing is weird, we’ll leave you be after a while.”

“I’m glad.” The remaining tension left your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief. “I really don’t want to put my life on pause. I’ve worked really hard for what I have here. “

“Of course!” Eijirou looked over his shoulder, now surveying the sliding glass door that led to the fire escape. “This is the best place in town, and I don’t think I’ll ever stay awake through another Commission meeting without my usual again. Plus, we owe you big time. It’s our fault that you’re starting to get some media attention.”

“Do the cameras need plug-ins or batteries?” You asked cautiously.

“Nah, they’re the special surveillance ones Chargebolt rigged, and we’ll get a notification if the battery is less than 25%. We’ve just gotta get them set up. Uraraka can up to stick them, then make ‘em weightless so they don’t fall down.”

At Eijirou’s words, you could see Uraraka tapping her fingers, jumping up to stick the device to the ceiling. With a frown of concentration, she pulled out her phone, checking the feed and fiddling with the camera until it was angled to her satisfaction before drifting back to the floor.

“We can take it from here. Feel free to go back to closing, or what you usually do in the evening. Don’t be afraid to let us know if you need anything.” Midoriya nodded before excitedly leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with the enthusiasm of a little kid. “Also, at some point, can I study your quirk? I keep notebooks of all different quirks I encounter, and yours is so interesting.”

“Shut your trap, nerd!” Bakugou growled from behind Eijirou, who jumped and clutched his partner’s arm. “Stop acting like we’re at the damn zoo. Save it for later.”

“Am not, Kacchan!” Midoriya whined. Turning to you, he put up his hands in a peace gesture. “I think we better get going, though. I think today’s probably been quite the day for you. Uraraka will set those up outside, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

Snagging Bakugou’s sleeve, Midoriya pulled him unwillingly down the stairs, with Uraraka having already moved on to install the security cameras in the café. Despite his tough front, the blonde didn’t fight too much, only grimacing and batting away the other hero’s hand as they left.

“Hey Kiri,” You said nervously, before the hero had the chance to follow his teammates out of your apartment. “Thanks for having Bakugou come over to be there while I was closing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you guys said this morning. I just feel so uneasy, like every stranger could be dangerous and I can’t do anything to save myself. It really set my mind at ease to have someone else there.”

“I bet.” He winced with sympathy. “But I didn’t ship Bakugou out here. He volunteered, and you didn't hear that from me.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfiction #reader insert #bakugou katuski x reader #female reader #she/her pronouns #pro hero bakugou #aged up characters #pro hero au #coffee shop au #angst with a happy ending #reader has a healing quirk #canon typical violence #somewhat graphic description of wounds #slow burn #no beta we die like men #Ground zero Au

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tsuumu · 4 years

Text

good intentions.

kuroo x reader

your long-term boyfriend is perfect. i mean perfect. he excels at basically everything he does. well, except one thing. at least he has good intentions, right?

based off of a request found here.

word count:

tags/tw: y/n & kuroo are uni students, lots of playful insulting, kuroo is perfect, well not really, y/n is a mess, y/n is me doing any kind of work, domestic x1000, kuroo cooking is so cute.

You know those people who just seem to have it all?

No, not literally, but it’s so sickeningly easy for them that they might as well be arms reach of anything they want.

Usually we tend to dislike people like that, mainly because... well, we’re not them (much to our abysmal dismay, too). They end up taking a spotlight of jealousy in our lives and we find ourselves constantly thinking: Man, i’d love to kick their asses, but would alternatively jump at the oppertunity to switch lives with them ‘Freaky Friday’ style.

These people are the embodiment of admiration.

Young. Good looking. Fit. Successful. Socially conscious. Killer smiles. Can always hold a drink. Never seem to embarrass themselves even a little, but on the off chance they do, everyone adores them more and sees it as a cute little incident or quirk of theirs.

Just thinking about it makes you want to build yourself a bunker, deep underground, just to sulk in for a decade or so, lamenting angrily at the dusty walls.

Yes. You know the truth is that there will always be someone better than you at simply existing, but that doesn’t stop that simmering of content from rising within. Realistically speaking, you’d avoid these people like your life depended on it because they’re so... detestable.

So who would have known that you —of all people— would end up falling in love with one?

Well, you did. As much as they repel you, you find that they weirdly attract you too.

That’s right.

The man who stole that pretty little heart of yours, who’d caught your attention indefinitely with his cut-throat prowess and charisma. He’d approached you one fine evening at some bar you’d never been to before, ordered you your favorite drink because he’d seen you order it twofold previously (vodka cranberry, heavy on the juice) and chatted you up the way you’d always wished a guy would.

The appalling epitome of cliche.

The whole encounter practically ran like he’d planned it before-hand. It’s almost infuriating, how easily he swept you off of those tipsy feet of yours.

Something bumps lightly over your head as a shadowy figure passes by. You groan lightly in response.

“Hey, cut it out!”

Somehow, you’ve found yourself on the floor, crossed-legged, pen in your mouth and both your hands. One is furiously scrawling something down, the other flicking the cap off to highlight. It’s an understatement to note that you look like a bit of a mess, brows scruched up in an untidy pile in the middle of your forehead, dead-focused on the first draft of your thesis that was due weeks ago.

Yeah, you were one of those people.

A mocking string of apologetic noises come from the figure in front of you as he chucks his keys onto the kitchen counter.

Kuroo Tetsurou. That’s your A-list Boyfriend.

A-list of what? Of life, for god’s sake.

If it were him that’d been assigned a task with this ridiculous deadline, he’d probably have handed it before it was fucking given to him in the first place! Not only is he academically adept to the point of pure indignancy (on your part, of course, you’re too prone to jealousy for your own good), but his organisation is nothing short of freakishly unnatural.

He says he’s minimalistic, you say he’s an alien.

If someone had told you that the man you loved was actually some kind of secret government- made equipment to survey you, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid. He’s that good.

He chuckles at his own jeers, slipping a hand through the fridge handle. It unlatches with ease and he takes a cold can of beer out, pulling the tab back and allowing it to hiss open satisfyingly. Your eyes flicker upwards, gnawing at your knuckle, you’re not only stressed out, but unbelievably embarrassed that you’re at it again. He’s seen you like this countless times, after promising to clean up your act and follow in his footsteps.

Following in his footsteps. Well, that’s how he described it. You were close to socking his arm.

“Shut up.”

Tetsurou tilts his head back, drinking to his heart’s content before catching your eye. You’re correct. He has seen this before, so he knows not to take your off-handed comments to heart. Instead, he’s rather bemused.

“Your scruched up nose.” He begins, setting the can down to the side, crossing one leg over the other. “That’s your classic concentrating face.”

You’re not even listening if you’re honest. You’re trying to understand what this section of the task even means after re-reading it for the fifteeth time. The responses you give are made absently.

“Hm.”

“You look like a cat that’s been forced to wait to eat. That little glare. It’s cute, kitty.”

Your head jerks up questioningly. Did he call you cute?

His head tilts.

“Oh, you’ve relaxed your face now. It’s gone back to being ugly.”

You scowl and throw the highlighting pen at him.

“Go away! I’m almost done!”

Your fingers move to your lower back, pressing on your spine in hopes it’ll crack and relieve some of the tension in your body. Kuroo retrieves the pen, sweeping the can up with his spare hand. He plods over, craning his neck down to study whatever it is that you have on your lap.

“It’s too dark in here to see that properly.”

“I’m fine!”

“Well—“ He leans back to switch the overhead lights on. “—now you’re finer.”

You turn to him, pausing for a moment.

“Oh, thanks.”

It’s like you fall into this crazed state when you’re overworked. Frantic. Snappy. Cowering in the dark like some sort of parody Dracula— that is, if Dracula were three weeks late on his university assignment worth a disgustingly high percentage of his final grading. If Kuroo came too close, or said something a little too sly, you’d probably bite him. He knows this too, opting to keep quiet from now on. Instead, he sits leisurely on the floor, just behind you, placing his hands against your propped up body and gently pressing his thumbs into the blades of your back.

“Drop it a sec, yeah?”

Your body’s stiff, but you can tell he’s shocked at just how stiff it is. For a moment, you’re caught off guard, before rolling your shoulders back forcefully.

“Can’t... gotta finish—“ and you gesture wildly at everything around you. That answer was to be expected. You weren’t as academically driven, sure, but you weren’t one to give in easily. Or fail, for that matter.

Tetsurou plants a gentle kiss onto the nape of your neck, mumbling into the ridge of your spine.

“That—“ he copies your movements. “Can wait. I know you think it can’t, but it can. And you’re going to stop now.”

Your eyes lower a little, vision blurring.

“But—“

“Nope.”

You twist yourself to look at him, giving him another sour look.

“I’m serious!”

“So am I.” It rolls off the tongue so easily for him. He’s utterly calm. But then again, he’s not the one that needs to be on bloody ‘X-Games’ mode.

He’s never the one. Damn it.

You lift yourself up a little by placing your palms under you, wincing at the twinges of pain it induces. You’d made friends with the floor for a little too long, butt totally numb.

“Fine.” You resign, suddenly falling back onto him. “I’ll email my professor for the tenth time this week and wait as he rips me apart. Shall I?” Kuroo tuts, snaking an arm around your upper-body, the other brushing at your baby-hairs so he’s able to see your face a little clearer.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh— yes he would. Would you like front row seats to my untimely demise?”

“You’re so dramatic.”

For the first time through that entire day, you smile, even if it’s just a little. And to him, he’s managed to fish you out of that downward spiral you’ve been plunging into. Job well done on his part. He softly runs a his palm down your side.

“Your professor covers mine when she’s busy.” He states matter-of-factly. “Let me email him. It’s not ludicrous to say that i’m your boyfriend and you’re a little troubled at the moment.”

You’re slumped over, at the moment, chin buried into your chest.

“Troubled sounds like i’ve lost my mind.”

“Well not like that—“ The eager boy begins sifting out your laptop from under the seemingly endless piles of paper. “Let’s think of a better excuse.” Your body doesn’t move an inch, fiddling with the cap of the pen lid. You throw it by accident and it bounces too far to reach comfortably. Shit.

“Mmm.” He buries his nose into the crown of your head. “Shall I tell him you got into a car accident?”

“What? Tetsu, that’s stupidly unbelievable. I don’t even drive.”

“I guess... maybe not a car.” His fingers teasingly splay over your stomach, body bent intrusively over yours. They move against the softness of your flesh, dipping down slightly.

You suck in a breath.

“I’m sure I can do something for you that’ll keep you from walking for quite some time.” Tetsurou hums deeply, and it feels like he’s talking directly into your brain.

Your fingers fumble for the pen he just gave back, before hitting him square on the forehead with it. It ricochets back perfectly onto your chest with a loud snap.

“Ow!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Geez.”

“I don’t need excuses. I’ll just come back to it later.”

“Oh— yeah. That too.”

With a heave, you sit up, rubbing the side of your head as the blood rushes back.

“I’m kinda hungry.” You’d been so distracted with this work that even simple, human needs took a backseat.

This is why Kuroo doesn’t like it. At times like this, you’d barely eat, sleep, breathe. Seriously. Sometimes you’d hold your breath for absurdly long periods of time whilst reading, only to hack and gasp and apologise because you were so into it.

That’s... extreme. And he does not approve in the slightest.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm...” Your eyes sparkle hopefully. “Did you get me something to eat?”

Tetsurou scratches his neck timidly.

“Well, not exactly.”

Immediately, your face drops and he protests wildly.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

Well— well— you couldn’t help but be disappointed! You were starving and tired and ready to email your professor a string of rather unpleasant curse words instead of another half-assed excuse. Your fingernails had been worn down considerably from all the abrasive biting you’d done, aching and red.

Being a full-time student was covert self-destruction. You heavily relied on your boyfriend to bring in food because you didn’t have the time to do so yourself. This had been discussed and agreed upon prior though, since along with Tetsu’s many formidable talents, a balanced work to school life was yet another.

He ambles back to the kitchen area, gesturing to the island smack bang in the middle.

“That doesn’t mean I came empty-handed.”

Oh. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he’d come home with groceries. Um. Groceries?

“What’s that?”

“Stuff I picked up on the way back.”

“Like, ingredients?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

The both of you are quiet for a moment, and you’re eyeing the bag like it’s appeared out of nowhere with something potentially life-threatening inside it. Yes, that sounds stupid. But the truth is... you guys never really got groceries. Not actual groceries with actual ingredients. Because that is a strong indicator that they’d have to be cooked.

And god, neither of you knew how to do that.

You’re a student who’s barely stepped into adulthood, not Gordan Ramsay.

Okay. You sound ridiculous. Cooking isn’t that complex. It’s actually quite simple if your heart’s in it.

“I figured i’d be able to do something with these.” Kuroo pats the bags and they crinkle a tad.

Of fucking course he’d ‘be able to do something’ with them.

He’s Kuroo-Genius-Tetsurou!

CEO of doing things with other things and it actually working out. Building cabinates, lock-picking, gardening, guitar, skateboarding, poker. Since you’ve been together, these are a few of the varation of things he’s naturally picked up.

You? You’re a more do-it-once-it-fails-and-never-do-it-again type.

In your mind there’s literally no doubt he’d ace cooking and list it under the other fifty(billion) things he’s also capable of, just so he can mention it off-handedly to other people at parties or something.

If there’s something to criticise about your boyfriend, he’s awful at shutting up about himself. He’ll go on forever, as if he’s showcasing his entire life to strangers in some desperate attempt to sell them his excessive excellence.

Is he arrogant? Maybe. But is he able to do it in a manner that’s utterly bewitching? Absolutely. He’s not gloating, you see, he’s ‘modestly sharing’. And you find yourself wanting to praise him, you want to hear about how much better he is than you.

Let’s be honest. Kuroo and modesty were not made to be placed in the same sentence, any humble talk of his is utter bullshit.

But everyone loves it all the same.

That’s what you mean about perfect people. They spark something in others. It’s almost hypnotic. And when you snap out of it, it’s like it’s been confirmed that you’re undoubtedly inferior. Post-Kuroo-Encounter depression. PKE. You having a devastating case of it.

Maybe you have a bit of a complex about this. Ugh.

He’s lucky he’s so damn loveable.

And that you’re so damn hungry.

“Okay.” You state.

Plus, you are a little curious to see what exactly will unfold with his newfound persuit in the culinary arts.

You haul ass to get up, audibly cursing, hopping around from foot to foot to get your blood-flow back in action. Eventually, you’ve nestled yourself onto a stool, hands propping your chin up, observing expectantly.

“What are you making, chef?”

“Uhh..” He’s rolling his sleeves up, eyes glued to the screen of his phone that’s placed facing upwards. “Chicken Alfredo.” Tetsu sounds a little uncertain but you’re staring into his head and you can almost hear the cogs turning. Really, it’s only a matter of time until the bastard works his Area 51-esque magic and concocts the dish.

He takes a little more time to familiarise himself with the recipe, before looking up, giving you a wicked grin.

“I’ve got this.”

You’re sure he does, smiling back.

Whilst he’s preparing god knows what, you peek into the grocery bag to see if there’s anything you can nibble on. You recieve another gentle smack to your head. Tetsu’s holding a packet of dry pasta.

He’s hit you with pasta.

“Nu-uh. I didn’t bring any kitty treats for you, be patient.”

“Stop hitting me like i’m a fly, or a cat!”

“Don’t be silly. I’d never hit a cat! They’re precious, adorable, i’d protect one with my life. And you—“ He hits you again. “—well, you’re you, baby.”

You snatch the packet forcefully and lob it at him again.

“You have a death wish, Kuroo-san.”

“Eesh. The formalities! I’m kidding!”

You cradle your cheek in your palm, sighing tiredly. The two of you usually ordered in, or got something you’d be able to set up pretty easily. Neither of you were particularly passionate about cooking, hence its absence in your routines. Yes, it’s excessively healthier than your current lifestyle, but you weren’t suffering. And even now, watching Tetsurou fill a pan with water, muscles firm against the shy of his shirt. You know he isn’t either.

Now that you’re looking, and looking some more, it’s pretty hot, seeing a guy cook.

“You know, you should make breakfast shirtless so I can tell my friends my hot boyfriend cooks me breakfast shirtless.”

He laughs.

“You’d enjoy that too much.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yes. I can’t keep indulging you.”

He means that your desire for immediate gratification is your biggest weak-point. Kuroo’s recently been trying to teach you the art of patience. Abstinence. You don’t get it. Apparently perfect people believe in ‘self-control’ crap.

“Also, oil.” He adds.

“Oh, I suppose it’d hurt, right?”

“Mhm.”

Your boyfriend alternates from his phone to the actual practice in short cycles. To you, he looks like he’s on track, though you’re not quite sure what to be looking for in the first place. These things usually came ready and steaming on plates in restaurants. Even now, having to wait, it’s so difficult. But you’re enjoying the light conversation it brings, so it’s whatever.

Though, that lasting etch of confusion and concern on the boy’s face leaves you wondering if actually, this is proving slightly difficult for him.

“Is everything okay?” You pipe up.

He doesn’t answer at first.

“Think so.”

“Oh— i’ve never heard that from you before.” It’s usually straight confidence from this man.

“Shut up.”

From the stool, you slip, dragging your hand over the counter as you walk around to see it up close. You don’t really know what you’re expecting, but... it’s not this.

“Tetsu, that’s boiling a little violently, don’t you think?”

“...No?”

“Yeah. It is. That’s not a good sign.”

He bats you away.

“We can’t both stand here!”

“Why not?”

“Spaaace.” He whines. “And if we both stay crowded around it’ll—“

And it happens, exactly what you’d predicted.

You, of all people, had made an assumption your boyfriend hadn’t. Ain’t that crazy? The water rises up too high, boiling over and spilling absolutely everywhere. The gas flame heightens all of a sudden, curling up next to the fabric of a dish towel next to it. In a panic, you pull him back.

“What the fuck—“

There’s no time for you to think, your hands fumbling to close the stove, you hadn’t realised the water had seeped over it, causing you to cry out in pain in the process, hand burnt silly.

But you do it. Quickly too. And Kuroo’s utterly dazed, like he hadn’t even thought to react. Your immediate response post-injury is to suck on the wound, trying to suppress the pain with the soothing movements of your tongue. That doesn’t do much, so you flap it about like a mad man, that only instigates more irritation.

Tetsu snaps out of it when he hears your hissing, grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you to the sink forcefully, apologising profusely as he does.

Cold water hits you. It’s instant relief.

“God— i’m so sorry, (y/n)—“ He stumbles, still panicking, he seems to be experiencing everything five minutes too late. “I don’t know why that happened, I swear to God i’ve done that before but it just—“

You let out a giggle, and it shuts him up.

Another one slips. It gets louder and louder, harder to suppress until you’re full on belly laughing, hunched over. He stares at you, wordlessly surprised.

“T-Tetsu— you burnt water—“ You try and stifle your laugh but it only shakes your body more. His deep shame morphs into relief when he sees you’re okay. Tearfully making fun of him, but okay. He pulls you into a tight embrace, ignoring your remarks and still feeling unbelievably guilty.

It’s okay. You’re still chortling, holding him just as tight.

“Here, let me— let me bandage this.” In a cupboard somewhere, he pulls out a small wrap of fabric, proceeding to do just that. You watch happily enough, before turning to the boiled water that had completely stilled.

“Thanks. Let me do this.”

With considerable time and effort, you’re able to clean up the haphazard mess and start afresh, filling his place. Yeah, Kuroo is pretty humiliated, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the time than anything else. Seeing you unwavered was enough to make him feel like things were good.

It’s a miracle really, that you do end up filling two plates with delicious smelling pasta.

That lingering look of sorrow is still plastered all over the poor boy’s features, watching you with wide eyes.

“How did you manage that?”

You just shrug, licking a smidge of sauce off of your thumb.

“Dunno. Guess I have potential.” Your gaze moves up to his, pinching his cheek and blubbering jokingly. “Baby. What’s with the long face?”

“Feel bad.” Tetsu looks so glum. It’s adorable.

“Hm.”

The scrape of the plate against the counter is clear as bells as you urge him to eat.

“I should thank you, dumbass.” Admiring the bandage work, a grin settls upon you. This ordeal helps you to see that, actually, Tetsu wasn’t good at everything. In fact, for once, you were better.

And God. That’s— that’s different. You don’t want to be as cocky as him, but it feels nice for a change. He admires you.

“Got an excuse for that late assignment now.” You muse.

“Oh my god.”

You’re always going to be a handful.

“Ugh. Tetsu. Something good always come out of your actions. It’s sickening!”

“I hurt you, silly!”

“I’m feelin’ pretty good about it, regardless. Plus—“ You jump up, leaning over the counter to flick his forehead. “—i’m going to tell everybody this pretty little golden boy set our kitchen on fire because he tried to boil water.”

“Cruel. You’re cruel.”

“The cruelest.”

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #kuroo headcanons #kuroo x reader #kuroo fic #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo fluff #hq #kuroo x y/n #cool this was fun 2 make #y/n is cute #kuroo is cuter

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jihoonluvclub · 4 years

Text

Heavenly Creatures (M)

Request: corruption kink with seungcheol Pairing: Demon!Seungcheol x Angel!Reader Genre: Smut Warning: Explicit content, religious undertones, light hair pulling, rough sex, oral (receiving), corruption kink, dirty talk, literal sex in a church Word Count: 3.5k

You should not have been there.

You knew that, as you knew almost all things in your life. The scent of petrichor melds with the slow rotting wood on the outside of the lonely church. Pews were covered in dust and sediment, the whispers of devotions once preached hung heavy in the air.

The church, nearly burnt down, completely overgrown with ivy and oak was where you were sent. You knew you’d find him there. The scent of smoke and unholiness flowed from the decrepit hallways to you. Darkness filled the building, no matter how many rays of light shone through the stained glass madonna.

Your mission was always the same: guide the fallen angels to grace, aid them in repentance, repeat. He never gave in though. He had fallen from grace before your time, but he has become a fixture in your life. He was your constant mission.

Seungcheol, the beautiful demon, hell bent on bringing down every angel with him. He wandered through earth with a sanguine demeanor, taking lovers and adventures with ease. You feared him, not for his temper as it was quite mellow, but for his ability to sway you with his alluring nature.

You reminded yourself as you approached his dark figure that this was no longer a place of God; this was no longer a place of peace and serenity or a place of forgiveness. You were not safe.

You smiled as you see the stained glass stories along the walls. Tales of your brethren, battles and triumphs for His glory. This church is empty of those who once looked on at these images in awe, now it holds the herald of destruction. Chaos personified.

He stood at the altar, for how long, even you did not know. If only you knew the depths of his lascivious behavior. He plants the seeds of destruction and you walk into his trap. If only they knew the risk of you meeting him, heaven would beg for you to be free from your duties, if only to prevent another angel's sacrifice. They would whisper to each other how Lucifer was one of the most beautiful of all angels, a warning to all. They would soon do the same for Seungcheol.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. They were such a dark shade of crimson they almost appeared to be black. Jet black feathers cradled his broad shoulders, casting shadows across the wooden floors.

You abhorred the way you reacted towards him. The crawling sensation of fear and disgust never surfaced, instead your body cried out for his touch. With a single look he could have you on your knees, whimpering out his name like a hymn. You felt the need to run, you knew you needed to pull back, to leave that condemned sanctuary and never return. But he pulled you in.

Urged told you to go before it was too late, but the other part of you, the part you thought was sealed away for eternity, wanted to approach. Since the first time Seungcheol’s eyes dragged across your body, lust poorly concealed behind his eyes, you felt the pull. Since the time his lips curled upward as they brushed against the back of your hand, the fire his touch left behind, you were hooked.

In the darkest depths of your soul, he called to you. That part of you wanted to be enveloped in the brimstone like a comfort blanket. That part of you wanted to stay there forever, as long as it was by his side. And that part of you wins out, of course.

“I thought you would come,” he said. “Couldn’t stay away from me, angel?”

It was a term of endearment that is not without its mocking undertones, but he was utterly correct. His footsteps echoed in the grand room, his body rendering itself unseen before reappearing in another location. A small tremble ran through you, you prayed that he would not notice the falter.

You could not keep away, that was the awful truth. You were drawn in like a moth the moment you saw him, and he has known from the start. “No,” you breathed. “No, I could not.”

You were shocked when he appeared before you, kneeled down onto one knee. He looked up at you from his knelt position, reaching out for you hand. Why were you not moving? Why could you not leave? Was it simply because you did not want to?

“Do you not wish to make this official in the eyes of God?” Seungcheol said, and the smirk on his face was unbearable in its pleasure.

Your knees were weak as you extended your hand to his. That was it, no going back. Was it as simple as a single gesture to leave behind everything you fought for? You were disgracing all that was holy in you, yet with the heat from his hand encasing yours, you could not bring yourself to care.

His teeth, sharp and now pronounced grace over your wrist before moving towards your palm. The sharp edge scratches along your flesh, drawing golden blood with a single puncture. You still had time to back out, he looked up at you once more as he did the same to his own palm.

You took in a breath, moving your hand to meet with his, your iridescent ichor melding with his onyx. You felt as if this was fated, as if you had lived through this a thousand times before. Maybe in another lifetime you would meet him once again, and the hunt would end in your union.

“Now,” he says, an amused devilish smile on his face. “We are one.”

As he stood he pulled your body against his, each rope of muscle felt hard against your softer form. He moved his head downwards, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

“My angel,” his tone was dangerous and predatory, sending waves of heat down between your thighs. “We need to consummate his union.”

There was a thrill that no angel should ever feel, a shiver that ran through the entirety of you. Your mouth went dry and your eyes widened at the implication. That was his last goal, not only to make the church his own, but to claim any being that entered it.

You should have seen it, should have known his intentions. You were far too familiar with his wicked words and cleaver tongue to be fooled. You knew deep down that you wanted it as badly as him.

“Then,” you said, swallowing. “We should start.”

He was delighted with you, a laugh bubbling from his lips, his claw tipped hands brushing your hips as he held you against him for a moment. “You know,” he said, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. There’s something about you…”

“I should not have let myself be led astray,” you breathed, as one hand cupped your face, as you relaxed into the touch. Perhaps you should not have felt comfort in the arms of a demon, but you were far too far gone for that to be a concern now. “But there’s something about you too.”

“Oh, you were too good for that life,” Seungcheol murmured, low and deep, and he brought the hand that was resting on your cheek forward, claws making quick work of cutting the sheer fabric of your robe.

The cloth fell at your feet, wings retracted and you imagine that you will never be able to call for them again. Were the sacrifices worth it? Your mind reeled as you were able to focus on nothing but the man in front of you.

“Too good to be an angel?” You quipped as you raised your own hand to ghost his face.

Perfect cheekbones, full lips, tousled hair that fell over his forehead in a way that looked calculated and natural all at once. His dark eyes bore into you. Seungcheol was a dead ringer for Lucifer, you think, beautiful and seductive. A temptation for all.

You wanted to kiss down his throat, to find the place where his pulse would beat if he had one and sink your teeth into it, if only to hear the noise of pleasure you were certain would spill forth from that lovely mouth.

“Oh,” he says, “you have always needed more freedom than that, didn’t you? And that will be my gift to you.” He kissed you, full on the mouth.

He tasted like blood, like iron and fire and smoke, and you found your tongue mapping the lines of his lips even as he suckled on your own lower one. Your teeth teased into his bottom lip and he groaned aloud, hands moving to your waist, lifting you up like a ragdoll as he carried you across the room, resting you on one of the pews.

Your legs were spread, perched neatly on the seating of the pew, as he kneeled again and you felt heat, hot and hard, pressing into your bare skin. As he kissed you, he moved, driving the unmistakable hardness into you as if he was going to rut himself to completion right there.

Seungcheol pulled back. “You were worth waiting to claim,” he mused aloud, studying your face.

You were left blinking up at him owlishly, your cheeks flushed, your mouth swollen but still wanting, craving, more of his taste. That kiss had done little to satiate the ache inside of you that had been present since the moment you saw him. But from the look in his eyes as they moved over your bare body, you imagined that said ache would be soothed soon enough.

“Look at you,” Seungcheol growled as one large hand, warm, so warm, moved down your hip, over your thighs, across your stomach, the swell of your breasts. “Untouched. Holy. Immaculate.”

He leaned down and he applied the aching hotness of his tongue to your nipple, a wordless thrum escaped your throat at the attention of that muscle. He swirled circles around the nub and you felt a tightness that you’ve never felt before. It was as if pinpricks of pleasure went down your body, spiralling down to your core.

And when he repeated the process to the other one, his teeth adding a bite to the equation that made you shudder, that need for touch increased tenfold.

“Hopefully,” you said breathlessly, “not for long.”

He chuckled as he pulled back, hands resting on your thighs and pulling them apart. His eyes greedily eyed your sex, wet and inviting and desperate for more of his handling, before they flickered back up to you.

If you could see yourself through Seungcheol’s eyes, you would have understood the longing he felt for you. Since the moment you had appeared in his life, he coveted the feel of your skin and the touch of your hands. It was a demon’s nature to covet, of course, but for you… That need was more primal and raw. He sensed it in you yourself, the need for something more.

“So eager,” he taunted you. His tongue licked a slow stripe up your inner thigh, a moan escaped from the back of your throat. “That’s not how a proper angel behaves, is it?”

“Oh,” you breathe, “I am no longer one, aren’t I?” His teeth scraped across your inner thigh and your body trembled with want. His breath faned along your aching sex. You needed to be filled. You begged to be touched. “I am whatever you want of me, so long as it’s for you.”

“Mm,” he growled. “Angel, that pleases me very much.”

And he moved between your thighs, his tongue working overtime as it once more stoked that fire within you in a way that you did not know could be ignited. Statues of saints and stained glass images of your God stare at you as your thighs willingly spread for a demon.

You could not bring yourself to care. Not when it felt that good. Not when you felt complete in a way you didn’t know it was possible to feel complete. Seungcheol’s mouth made pleased grunts against your sex, his tongue harshly moving against your slick folds.

The tip of his tongue circled your entrance, making your hips shake as he used the fiendishly long appendage to tease you. It was a sight to behold, his pale skin gleaming with your essence, his dark wings twitching in time with time with his movements.

Your body jerked as he sucked on your clit, your fingers finding purchase in his hair to keep balance. He groaned loud, the vibrations edging you on further. He pulled back as your thighs shook around his head, mouth glistening with your arousal, eyes dark and filled with fire.

“Enjoying yourself?” He rasped.

A flush rose across your bare chest to your cheeks. “G-God, yes.” You breathed out, and he chuckled.

“There is no God here.” He said, and he made a show of licking his lips. That forked tongue that seemed unearthly long made a show for you. “Only me.”

“Good,” you said, hands still knit in his dark hair. You tugged at it, and he allowed himself to be moved back to his former position with your thighs pillowing his head. “Make me call out your name instead, then.”

You did not have to tell Seungcheol twice. This time he did not pull away in favour of teasing you somewhere else. You found yourself babbling out noises that made no senses, hips pushing your sex into his face, trying to get him to pay more attention to the throbbing, swollen nub.

And he did not disappoint. He sucked your clit into his mouth, fast but rhythmic. You felt as if electricity was spilling out from your spine. Muscles you’ve never used clenched and strained under his ministrations. Your arousal spilled onto the wooden seat beneath you.

You felt your body become weightless for a moment, as if all the blood in your system stopped moving. You cried out Seungcheol’s name, fingers buried deep in the mess of his hair as his tongue flicked against your far too sensitive bud. You trembled as he allowed you to ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He smiled at your reactions, satisfied with how you whimpered for him as he removed himself from you. You hardly noticed when he gathered you in his arms, carrying you to the pulpit. You only caught your breath when you were bent over the wooden stand. He was going to claim you in every sense of the word.

“I want your heavenly Father to see that I am the only man you call out to, my angel. I want him to see your pretty face when you come around my cock. I want him to hear you cry out for me. I want him to know that one of his perfect little angels,” he adjusted your hips to line himself up with your sex, “has become nothing but demon’s whore”

His cock was hard and pressing into the flesh of your thigh. You nearly fainted from the tension built up in the church. “Make me yours.” You said the words and the weight of them felt so final they should scare you. But they do not frighten you at all.

“Good girl,” Seungcheol growled out, your thighs kicked farther apart, allowing his bulk to settle behind you. “Look at how wet you are for your enemy, how easily you’ve fallen under me.”

His claws run down the expanse of your back, scratching along the surface just enough to cause a shiver to explode across your body. He lined his cock with your entrance, the tip red and weeping precum in excitement. “Tell me how long you’ve wanted his cock inside of you.”

Your face flushed but you complied, you would do anything for him to satisfy the craving inside of you. “Since the first time I saw your face.” Your breath was cut short as you felt the tip of his cock edge itself inside of you.

“Go on,” Seungcheol urged, shifting his hips so just the very tip of his length sits inside of you. The grip on your hips keeps you from sliding back.

“I could feel something inside of my chest, in my body, that called out to you. I wanted you to take me then and there. Something unholy, I knew I needed you.”

He inched further inside. You used all of your composure to not cry out. Your hands braced against the pulpit, gripping onto the ledge as he moved agonizingly slow inside of you. His cock barely shifted halfway inside of you before he moved back out.

“I want to be yours. I want your sins. I want you to defile me-” You were nearly cut off as he thrusted his hips against you, sheathing himself inside of you.

You hardly released a moan before he was fucking you against the podium. Your knees buckled but his grip on your hips held you in place. You cried out as his cock pounded into you over and over, nails digging into the wood beneath you.

A shadow of the cross in the window behind you fell over the aisle of the church, even that was not enough to make you think of anything but the feeling of his length stretching your walls. Your hand reached between your thighs, finger tips mimicking the rotations his tongue played on your clit.

“You naughtly little angel. Are you touching yourself because of me?” Seungcheol asked while thrusting into you even harder. He reveled in the feeling of your slick core tightening around his girth.

You could only moan out as your nub throbbed at the sensations your body felt. You felt a hand come down on your backside, his hips slowing down in their pace. “I asked you a question.”

You were so close to finding sweet release again, embarrassment be damned. “Yes, I was. I love the way you make me feel. I’ve never felt like this in my whole existence.”

Seungcheol experimentally smacked the other cheek before pulling your hips back to meet his. You were so full, pushed almost to the brink of pain with how tight you were around him. “Do you enjoy being tainted by me? Do you enjoy the way a demon can make you feel?”

You gasped out as he tugged your hair with one hand, forcing your back to arch as his other hand gripped your breast. “Yes. I can not imagine a better feeling on earth.”

“Show me how much you like it. I want you to fuck yourself on my cock.” He used the hand in your hair to turn your face towards him, allowing him access to your mouth.

His tongue slid inside, rubbing against your own as your hips began to slide back and forth on his cock. You moaned into his mouth as the hand from your breast moved to your sex. Two digits spread your folds open as the middle one flicked across your clit.

Tightness tugged at your stomach, heat flowing throughout your body once more. Your chest felt tight, gasps swallowed by the demon who claimed you. You could no longer think of anyone, anything, but the raven haired fiend behind you.

His mouth pulled away from yours as he felt your walls clench down on him again. His warm grunts fanned across your neck as his teeth scrapped the junction of your shoulder.

“Seungcheol,” you cried as you felt your climax approaching. You hand reached down and clenched the forearm that touched your sex. “Seungcheol, please-”

He bit down on your neck, sucking a mark onto your flawless skin. A mark of belonging to no one but him and yourself. It was as if that simple action created a chain reaction in your whole body. Your body was filled with heat and light, the sound of you screaming out the demons name fell deaf on your own ears.

Your hips stilled as your orgasm came crashing down, but Seungcheol was quick to move his own against you. There were only a few ruts before his hips stilled against yours as well. Your limp body was left hanging off the side of the pulpit, sweaty and leaking a mixture of your combined fluids.

His hand moved the hair off of your face, taking in the way your bright eyes still gleamed up at him. “Oh, angel,” he said while kneeling down to you.

Your eyes flutter closed as you rest your head on the hand that moved to cup your cheek. You were an angel relaxing into the touch of a demon, the kind of sight that would be used as a warning for others. His dark wings covered your trembling form.

“You and I will one hell of an eternity together.”

An eternity in which you will be damned. You could not seem to care at that moment. The way Seungcheol looked at you, as if you were the whole world, make up for that. Maybe he was your destiny.

#scoups smut #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #scoups #writing tag #choi seungcheol #seungcheol smut

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lucky-sevens · 3 years

Text

mechanisms magic system

before i begin this meta, huge credit to @jenn-locke for assisting me in the writing of it! this is something we have been discussing and working on for a long time, and i’m very happy to finally be able to publish it!

there are four examples of things that could potentially be considered magic in the mechanisms universe (excluding narratomancy, which is a subject of its own); the events of the bifrost incident, the mechanisms’ immortality, brian’s prophetic powers (which are actual prophecy) and carmilla being a vampire. i have reason to believe these are all tied to eldritch and/or extra-dimensional forces, and this theory in large part is viewing the various magical events in that lens.

before we get into the other two, which are going to be the most interesting to pick apart, a brief recap! i will be citing things from the bifrost incident as we go, including lesser-known lore, but i feel like everyone in the mechanisms fanbase already has a pretty cohesive knowledge of it; if you don’t, go listen. the mechanisms’ immortality being eldritch is obviously less of a well known thing, but i’ve already talked about it several times, and have a meta here and discuss it in the ‘world lore’ section of my deep lore post here.

now, let’s address drumbot brian! going off the idea that a mechanism requires an eldritch component, it’s important to note that the priest brian brought back to life could be interpreted as being mechanized. this post notes him as ‘being partially mechanical, so he outlives many other enemies we make’ and while that isn’t solid evidence, it definitely sounds similar. adding to the list of eldritch associations, there’s some uncanny parallels with loki and odin. brian crashlands on a planet with no memory, similar to how loki loses her memory. originally, i thought, as lyf assumes, that her memory loss was caused by some sort of torture odin did to her, unrelated to the bifrost. however, her memory being brought back by reexposure suggests otherwise. regarding odin, odin has prophetic dreams. (i’ve done it/though i never knew/the dreams that ate at me were true in ragnarok ii and ‘i could not have guessed this is where the songs i had dreamt of would lead’ in ragnarok iv.) this could be of a similar nature to brian’s prophecy! (it’s relevant to note there are other examples of prophecy, potentially tying to immortality, in the mechanisms universe, but that requires a meta of its own.)

there is a large unknown portion of brian’s backstory. obviously, there is the amnesia, but there was actually a full gptvtmk-style album planned for him. on the lyrics page on the website, there’s a section entitled ‘Indistinguishable from Magic (Drumbot Brian)’, with lost in the cosmos being the only song underneath it. ruth thedreadvampy and cadi wickedace discuss what happened to the album here (it was scrapped), and mention a second song that included ‘Jonny singing very fast about casting Brian into space’, so likely still on the planet he landed on, rather than earlier. still, that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have had a wider span.

in conclusion to this section, it’s likely he has involvement with eldritch powers of some sort that we do not know about. @jenn-locke has posited the idea that he might have been immortal before meeting carmilla. an interesting note from the earlier post cited is that the priest ‘[became] the thing he most hated’. this could potentially mean brian was immortal. locke’s theory is that him crashlanding on a planet with no memory is a cycle; that he would go to planets, leave, and wake up with no memory. this cycle of amnesia could have been halted by the constant exposure to the bifrost that being mechanized would give him. of course, lost in the cosmos contradicts this, as he does die. however, it’s important to note that a) immortality in the mechanisms universe seems to mean you die but regenerate, and b) lost in the cosmos does not line up with the actual physics of what dying in space is like.

now to discuss carmilla! there is no clear information as to how she became a vampire. she and loreli are the only two vampires in the universe, and one may have turned the other; however, we do not know which one, or how they became a vampire in the first place. it’s relevant to note that according to the old dr carmilla and the mechanisms tv tropes page, there’s an unreleased song called ‘the alchemist’ that seems to be part of carmilla’s downward spiral. this could connect to ‘welcome to medi bay co.’, which is one of the only doc c songs i can’t find a place for in the lore. my theory is that carmilla’s immortality was caused because she was exposed to an eldritch event. this is supported by the fact terra was subject to some kind of cataclysm (x). maki has said that carmilla ‘changed’ terra, but that she was not entirely responsible for its destruction. depending on how literally you take rocket girl, the original population could have fled before it was destroyed, and left carmilla behind. though this may not be directly relevant, i’d also like to note that carmilla destroyed one of terra’s moons. (see my aurora meta).

we don’t have any more knowledge about her turning, but along the lines of carmilla and eldritch things, i’d like to talk about the weird. we know almost nothing about it except that it’s the plane the silvana, carmilla’s ship, travels through. as opposed to the aurora, the silvana is faster than light (x), which could point to warping of time and space. it is also the only silvana-class starship in existence (x). the weird is likely strange and volatile; we have a very small piece of knowledge of it from messages on the mechscord (which are not citable). my theory is that it is an eldritch extradimensional space.

in conclusion, there’s more to drumbot brian than there seems, and mechanization and vampirization are likely both caused by eldritch forces.

#the mechanisms #the mechs #drumbot brian #meta #my posts #locke tag #edit: added 'keep reading' bar #dr carmilla

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rikalovesrice · 3 years

Text

Douxie x Reader #4 - Comfort (Part 1)

Reader Recap : Lives in older sister’s shadow, rarely ever acknowledged by her parents or people at school. Has a host of insecurities because of it. Part-time pizza delivery girl on a scooter. A partner in crime when hunting for monsters in the late hours of night with Douxie, Archie, and Zoe. You and Douxie have become close friends.

You didn’t know where you going and you didn’t care. All you knew is that you had to get as far away from your house and the people inside of it as you could without leaving Arcadia.

You floored it on your scooter, fueled by the frustration and hurt pumping through your veins. Eventually you rolled into town and parked the scooter in the park, dismounting and leaning back against the seat, holding yourself. There was a dull sort of ache in your head and you could feel the pressure of tears forming but refusing to fall. It brought you to the ground and you curled in on yourself, rocking forward onto the balls of your feet. It was times like this, when being swept aside became too much, that you questioned your very existence. Why you even bothered sometimes. If your parents even knew they had another child. If you really were just a speck of dirt on your older sister’s pristine image.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there all balled up beside your scooter, taking deep breathes and crying softly into your arms. You had just noticed a bizarre, prickling rasp in your ear when -

“(Name)!!”

There as a flash of blue and you instinctively ducked, rolling forward and roughly onto your side as some kind of misty, shadowy form took the brunt of a blast of blue. The creature screeched and quickly recovered from the attack. It was about the size of a squirrel and it twitched and jerked about like a glitch. White, ghastly, hollow eyes pulsed against a shape of black and gray smoke, like distorted full moons. You backed away on your elbows, terrified when not one, not two, but what looked like a hundred more of the things manifested from the night, rising like a wave from behind your scooter.

You braced yourself as the creatures descended upon you, squeezing your eyes shut, when a hand clamped around your shoulder and pulled you snug against a familiar bundle of black.

“Douxie...!” you gasped, looked up at his face creased with concentration. You flinched at the force of the shadowy creatures slamming into the shield of magic Douxie had conjured, his left arm extended, charm bracelet alight with symbols. When they’d dispersed, Douxie lowered the shield and helped you to your feet, checking you over.

“Are you alright?” he asked, patting your shoulders and arms. “What are you doing here? I thought you had something with your family tonight.”

“What...What are those things?” you huffed, wondering how you’d manage to forget what Arcadia’s like after midnight. The flurry of writhing shadows regrouped in the air, a frightening show against the street lights, and were circling back. Douxie moved in front of you, watching them closely with charm bracelet at the ready.

“Hollowsprites,” Douxie said lowly. “Nasty things. Haven’t seen this many since Morgana returned. Drawn to darkness. They feed upon strong negative emotions and feelings. Fear. Anger. Sadness.” His voice lost some edge and his head turned slightly back towards you. “Pain and suffering...”

Sensing a lapse in attention, the hollowsprites spiraled downward, only to be intercepted by a bright flash of pink and a burst of fire. Archie and Zoe were hurrying onto the scene, Archie perching himself around Douxie’s shoulders.

“(Name)! Change your mind about tonight?” Archie asked, glancing back at you.

“So this is where they all went,” Zoe said, pink electricity sparking between her fingers. “Thought you were gonna have all the fun, did you, Doux?”

“Ugh, you’re welcome for finding them,” Douxie retorted. Then he grinned, his charm bracelet flickering as he clenched his fist. “Go on, Zoe. I’ve worn them down for you!”

“Yeah cause more hollowsprites showing up is wearing them down.”

“Provoking is more like it,” Archie added. “Dramatically emoting?”

“Whose side are you on?” Douxie whined.

“Uh, sorry, Arch,” you say. “I think I was one...er, emoting.”

Archie turned in the air to face you, his white eyebrows creased. “That so? Are you alright, (Name)?”

Douxie let his guard down even more, slightly lowering his charm bracelet and equally concerned as he looked back at you.

“Okay not to be insensitive but can we do this later cause we’ve kinda got a situation here!” Zoe lashed the angry hollowsprites with sparks of magic. “Sit tight, (Name). Come on you two!”

“Thought you wanted all the fun, Zoe!”

“Douxie, I swear -”

Continuing their banter, Douxie, Zoe, and Archie got to work blasting and zapping and burning the hollowsprites into submission. The pain in your heart was suspended for the moment as you were fixated on the action in front of you. Several hollowsprites lunged at you, but they ended up barreling into another one of Douxie’s shields.

“(Name), whatever negative emotions are inside of you, they want to consume them,” he said, looking back at you. “They want to use your emotions to make them stronger and corrupt you. But you can resist them. Don’t let them win!” Douxie shoved the magical shield forward with a loud grunt, the magic bursting and causing the hollowsprites to scatter furiously.

Corruption. That was a concept that hadn’t occurred to you. But now that you thought about it, it made sense. There were plenty of times the hurt threatened to melt into bitter hatred, to the point where you considered being a nasty person yourself in retaliation. Everything was constantly being taken away from you. Everything. But...There were things within you that your family could never touch. Things no one could touch or take, not if you had any say in it. And right now...It seems you did.

No one would steal the peace of a bookstore. The warmth of a cafe. Jamming out in a record store. The thrill of cruising on a scooter under a starlit sky. The wonder of literal magic, the kind you thought only existed in movies. A talking cat with glasses and a pair of wings. Headphones over a head of pink hair. Black clothes and golden eyes and that breathtaking smile of his.

The place where you belonged.

The friends you now cherished.

The love you had found.

The pain of understanding now what life could be. What it should have been.

You were constantly aware of the exhaustion of choosing love. Choosing to have grace. Choosing to be strong and steadfast. Choosing to be different. But as tiring as it was, you never once regretted it. And that belonged to you, too.

The decision, your resolve, to try and be better.

You planted your feet, grounding yourself as the hollowsprites once again took aim at you. As they dove down, Douxie almost conjured another shield but you stepped firmly in front of him.

“Stay away from my emotions you freaks!” you yelled at the mass of writhing shadows. “They’re mine! My feelings are mine!” Almost immediately, the hollowsprites recoiled as if stung, screeching and squealing in confusion.

“That’s it!” Douxie said with a broad smile, summoning rings of magic to attack the creatures further. Archie flew between the rings, setting Douxie’s magic ablaze to amplify his spells. Soon blue flames were raining down like falling leaves from hollowsprites being burned alive.

“Big mistake messing with my friend!” Zoe said, engulfing herself in pink electricity. With two taps of her toes on the ground, she bolted forward, powerful streams of lightning trailing behind her and frying any hollowsprite in her path. The ravenous behavior of the creatures dissolved into frustrated disorientation, members of the shadowy cluster zipping around aimlessly.

You noticed that the hollowsprites weren’t actually dying. Rather the number of hollowsprites began to dwindle as members of the swarm shot off into the night like dark firecrackers.

Eventually all the hollowsprites fled, an eerie silence filling the town in their wake. All three of your magical friends loosened in exhaustion, Douxie actually dropping to the ground to sit.

“None of them were destroyed,” you commented, looking up into the night where the creatures had vanished.

“Yea, well...As long as negative emotions exist, hollowsprites can’t be destroyed,” Zoe said. “Just shooed away, really.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” Douxie said. “We’ve been seeing more and more of them lately anyway.”

“You see, hollowsprites are also drawn to...‘disturbances’ in the realms, so to speak,” Archie said. “We suspect something must be amiss...”

“There’s that, too, yes. But I suppose they targeted you because your emotions were so strong...”

You locked eyes with Douxie, a moment passing between you both. His eyes were soft with concern. For some reason, looking to those eyes, you felt really vulnerable.

Zoe cleared her throat. “Erm, Archie? Why don’t we make sure the rest of the town is clear of those things?”

“Pardon...?” Archie said. “But- Oh. Oh...Y-yes! Good idea, Zoe!”

Zoe gave you a quick hug. “I’ll text you later. You better answer me! Make sure she gets home safe, Doux.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks. They were leaving you alone with him?

“Uh, hold on-” But Zoe and Archie were already hurrying away. You leaned back against the seat of your scooter, fumbling with your fingers and saying nothing. And suddenly extremely aware of Douxie’s presence. You actually jumped a little when he said your name.

“(Name)...Um...” Douxie scratched the back of his neck. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to...But if you don’t mind me asking what happened...?”

Of course you didn’t mind. Douxie was a safe space where the monsters couldn’t reach you. Your place of respite. But even though the tears came easily then, it didn’t mean you weren’t embarrassed.

“They all forgot,” you said, your voice already thick with tears. “They forgot about the dinner I had planned to um...celebrate my dad’s promotion.” With an empty laugh, you wiped your face with your palm. “I mean, I don’t know what I was expecting. I just...”

Douxie got up off the ground, stepping closer to you. “(Name)...”

“I just wanted to do something nice for my dad. For my family. But I’m dumb and I actually thought they’d care. Mom and dad just went out to eat and my sister just stayed in her room and the food was getting cold and -”

As soon as his arms wrapped around you, you sobbed into his sweatshirt. You were vaguely aware that you were probably getting tears and snot and dribble all over your crush but you couldn’t stop crying for a solid three minutes. Douxie just held you the whole time, hand squeezing your shoulder and thumb stroking your back.

"I’m emoting all over you...,” you whimpered, having settled down into soft sniffling and hiccups.

“Oh stop it,” Douxie said. Then he hugged you tighter. “I’m so sorry they treat you like this. You know you can always come to me...Zoe, and Archie, right? I... We’ll never sweep you aside.”

You almost came undone again. Not wanting to soak Douxie’s sweatshirt further, you moved back and pressed your forehead against his collarbone, still staying as close as you could to his warmth. To his eyes like the sun and moon, glowing with compassion, soft with understanding. To his smile that always made you smile. To his gentle hands. Those streaks of blue hair. The comforting shadow of his presence. His magic, bright and beautiful like he was.

It terrified you.

“Yeah...” You pulled away to look up at him, still holding his arms. “Yeah, I know you won’t. I...I believe you. I’ll try....”

Douxie gazed at you for a moment before smiling softy, wiping a tear away with his finger.

“Good,” he said. Then he smooshed your face between his hands, forcing your cheeks and lips to pucker.

“H-hey!!”

He released you, laughing. “Shall I walk you home?”

Blushing wildly and rubbing your face, you managed a smile.

“That’d be nice.”

There wasn’t any hurry. It was probably two in the morning now but would your family notice your absence? Negative.

You guided your scooter along as Douxie strolled beside you, the two of you chatting about any and everything. Douxie went off a bit talking about how he didn’t understand people who ate fondant and how much of a jerk Shakespeare was. It was the cutest thing. Then you started going on and on about how pretty the moon was tonight and how crescent moons were your favorite. For a second, Douxie might’ve been staring at you, but, no, duh, you definitely imagined it.

“Well uh...This is me.” You took one look at your front door and sighed. “Sadly.”

“Hey.” Douxie placed a hand on your arm. “Remember what I said. Anytime. A phone call, a text-”

“A raven?”

He snickered. “Especially a raven. But seriously...Just say the word.”

Under the moonlight, Douxie was otherworldly. So gorgeous your heart threatened to swell to bursting. How was it that your paths could possibly have crossed? It escaped you, and you had no hope of catching it.

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Okay,” Douxie repeated. “Goodnight, (Name).”

“Goodnight, Douxie.”

Neither of you moved.

“Ah, go on, then,” Douxie said kindly, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’ll stay until you’re inside.”

“O-oh. Okay, thanks.” You parked your scooter next to your sister’s car. Just as your hand touched the doorknob, you were overwhelmed with the urge to just tell him. Heart racing, you tried to say his name, starting to turn back around.

“Uh..Uh D-Doux-”

“(Name).”

You paused. “Y-yeah?”

Douxie smiled warmly. “I’m glad that I met you. I’m glad we’re friends.”

It was sweetness followed by a stab.

“Me, too,” you said, meaning it with your whole aching heart. “You...” A shaky breath. “You guys mean the world to me.”

Before he could say anything else, you hurried inside, up the stairs in the dark, and into your room, not caring if you woke anyone up. You curled up on your bed, face in your forearms.

You were happy. So, so happy.

And so utterly crushed.

Just outside, still in front of your house, Douxie’s eyes fixated on your bedroom window. Then he turned and started back towards the town, wondering how he could ease the pain in your life and thinking about the look on your face, the glow in your eyes, as you enthused over the moonlight.

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star-spangledstud · 4 years

Text

Like You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (Female) Reader.

Word Count: 2800-ish.

Summary: Steve has a really shitty way of saying goodbye.

A/N: My friend sent me the prompt: “If I knew then what I know now.”. I decided to play around with it and then this happened.

Warnings: Angst at its finest. Such brief mentions of sex you hardly notice them. Heartbreak.

You didn’t understand why he didn’t come back to you like he was supposed to.

It wasn’t like the two of you didn’t have a solid relationship. You complemented each other when you walked into the room, the perfect blend of two different people that had come together as one. You hardly argued, barely even disagreed on matters that concerned the both of you and you never got sick of each other’s company. You were complete, whole when you were with him and he was with you.

You ate together, trained together, slept together in the same bed night after night. Even as the world burned after the big Snap, you stayed together, thankful every day for the fact that the both of you had made it out alive. You mourned the loss of friends together, tried to overcome the holes in your hearts together. It was an obstacle in the road that paved the way for your lives and you faced it together. When everyone was brought back, you couldn’t have been more grateful, because five years of learning how to rebuild everything had made the two of you stronger, more aware of how much you needed each other to survive. Most importantly, it made you aware of how all you needed to survive was each other.

A power couple, that’s what they called you. Sun and moon, yin and yang. The perfect balance of work and play, of fun and professionalism. You kept each other moving, kept one another going with words of encouragement and wisdom, forced each other out of bed after half the world had literally vanished in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t been easy, but you expected the strain on your relationship to have been much worse. You got off easy compared to many other people.

When the two of you first caught wind of the possibility to bring everybody back, of course, you jumped on the bandwagon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to see your best friends again, for things to go back to the way they were. You knew it would be hard because people had moved on, started new relationships, new careers and had moved house, but you had faith that humanity could overcome it.

You still got chills when you thought of the orange portals that signaled everyone’s return. The distant memory of seeing the people you thought you’d never see again in the flesh for the first time in five years still brought prickly tears to the corners of your eyes, as did the knowledge that Natasha and Tony had given their lives to make it happen. They sacrificed their lives so you could have yours.

You hardly had time to notice the sudden change in Steve’s behavior. You were so busy trying to reintegrate half the population into the current day, that the two of you spent less and less time together. You were in charge of bringing back the positions of SHIELD agents that had vanished and offered your help to them both professionally as well as privately. Some of them had lost their families because they’d moved on and it was very hard on them to realize that five years of life had simply passed them by.

Steve had been talking about retirement for years. You knew he wanted to finally lay down the shield once and for all and the two of you had been talking about it more and more as time progressed. Finally, he decided to bring the team back to its former glory, to rebuild the facility and to find new possible recruits, before he’d finally call it quits forever.

Before that could be done, the Infinity Stones had to be returned to their respective timelines. Of course, he was the one to suggest to do it. You’d honestly be surprised if he didn’t offer to do it himself. You told him it was okay because you trusted him and trusted his judgment and if he felt like he could complete the mission successfully, you would stand behind him and support him because that’s what good girlfriends did.

You remembered the way he gently kissed you before stepping onto that godforsaken platform all too well, the way his hand caressed the side of your face and hair, the squeeze in your shoulder. It was a kiss unlike any of the ones you’d ever shared before, not even the ones he gave you after Tony’s funeral, filled with grief, sadness and need. No, this one was different. You didn’t know it at the time, but you did know it when looking back.

He was telling you goodbye.

“No,” you cried, “no, no, no!”

Your arms and legs flailed miserably, chest heaving rapidly up and down in irregular motions. Bucky cringed with how horribly upset and distraught you were, unsure of what the hell he should do about you crying beneath him.

He was sitting on the edge of your bed, rubbing your back in soft, circular motions while you hugged your pillow tight to your chest. Your face was red, tip of your nose glowing and your cheeks were so puffy you looked almost like a clown. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think words could suffice or make you feel any better. He was probably right.

“Why?” You choked out, “Why did he leave me?”

You could hardly breathe without Steve.

Bucky could hardly understand what you were saying. Every word came out in hiccups, forced to the surface by the tension in your lungs and contracting chest. For a long moment, you stopped breathing. Bucky panicked immediately. His pulse quickened and grip on you tightened. Then, you took a deep, panicked breath of air with a high pitched cry.

All you could think of was Steve, how he glanced at you from his spot in the dead center of the platform. How his lips tightened into a sad line, how his brow creased and his eyes closed just before he disappeared on you forever. You should have fucking known, but how could you? He was everything you ever wanted and you thought you were the same to him. He never even gave you the indication that he was unhappy, that he didn’t love you. That he was going to leave you for her.

“Shh,” Bucky cooed, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam showed up at the door, which stood slightly ajar. His head peaked in, eyes following your heaving body and Bucky’s slouched form before resting on his face. Bucky shook his head. Sam quietly left. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain one of his best friends had caused you.

“Get some sleep,” he told you quietly after your sobs had silenced.

“Don’t leave me,” you managed to whimper, grabbing hold of his flesh arm and pulling it down with you.

You needed human contact, couldn’t stand the thought of being alone after being left by the love of your life.

“Of course,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, sugar.”

You slept with Bucky by your side that night, still dressed in the clothes you’d put on while Steve was still lounging in bed that morning. The make-up you’d put on while Steve was in the shower had mostly come off on your sheets and on Bucky’s left shoulder. You clutched his shirt while you dreamt of Steve in short bursts, the desperate need for comfort so dire that you refused to let the man leave when he tried. He was angry too, angry with his best friend for putting the woman he loved so much through such pain.

You cried as soon as you woke up the next morning, hand sore from fisting Bucky’s shirt all night. Your head hurt terribly, a pressure had built up behind your eyes overnight and it worsened as the day continued. Bucky eventually managed to leave you alone so he could get changed and talked to Steve, who was now an old man instead of the man who’d taken you to Paris on your first anniversary.

You became indifferent to the saying ‘time heals all wounds’, because it no matter how many days passed you by, it never seized to hurt. Every little thing that reminded you of Steve would send you in a downward spiral. People recognizing you on the street for once being the most beloved Avenger began to walk around you with a wide arch because even they could tell something was terribly wrong with you. Soon enough, they all knew what had happened.

You hardly slept, because images of Steve dancing with Peggy haunted you all night long. Images of him, telling you he’d chosen her instead of you would flood your mind, along with pictures of the two of you when you were happy. You began to question it, all of it and wondered often what would’ve happened if you had been the one to join Tony on his journey back to the 70s instead of him. You wondered if he’d still be here, sleeping soundly next to you with his arms engulfing you in warmth. Now, there was only cold.

You didn’t have the energy to be productive anymore. Life without Steve was no life and the void of his existence had taken away the importance of everyday tasks for you. Literally, everything you came in contact with reminded you of him, from the cereal you used to eat together to the movies you would watch. You couldn’t go to your favorite coffee place anymore, because that’s where you went to get his morning cup on the weekends. You couldn’t even stand to look your fellow teammates in the eye. They’d become afraid to be around you, walking on eggshells when you ventured out of the depths of your room for food because they were scared of saying the wrong thing. It happened once when Bruce made a comment towards Sam’s shield. His shield.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said as he watched Bucky carry you back to your room, “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda assured him, “She’s in a lot of pain right now. It could’ve been any of us.”

“Can’t we do something?” Sam asked, hands on his head.

Wanda shook her head, “We can support her, but she needs time to heal.”

You never knew heartbreak could cause physical pain, but the constant strain on your heart was exhausting. You went through entire boxes of Ibuprofen to ease the constantly looming headaches, but they did very little to ease the dull throbbing of the back of your head. Your eyes were red constantly and your skin didn’t glow anymore. Everything had dulled like Steve had taken your life light with him back to the past, engulfing you in complete darkness.

You’d never find someone like him again because nobody compared to him.

You often reminisced the good times you experienced with him by your side. The fun you had while sparring in the gym room, climbing on his back as he tried to push you to the floor. You thought back to the many dates you had, fancy candlelit dinners inside of expensive restaurants that involved your favorite flowers at the beginning of the night and passionate sex at the end. You remembered holidays, Tony’s extravagant parties that were mostly just you and him eye-fucking each other in fancy clothing with champagne on your breaths until it was late enough for you to bail so you could fuck for real.

It was holding his hand, kissing him hard and long on his beautiful mouth before he had to leave for missions that sometimes lasted far too long for both your liking. Placing fingers on his thigh while he was driving and toying with the soft fabric of his jeans higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was walking on the beach early enough to see the sunrise and long drives back on the back of his motorcycle, safely hidden away from the world behind tinted helmets.

Now, there was nothing. No hand-holding, no joking around, no fucking each other in the storage closet because you couldn’t wait to get back to your room on the top floor. Nothing but emptiness, cold and dreadful and tiring like a weighted blanket made of snow that refused to thaw under your own body temperature.

Even when you finally decided to become more active again did the emptiness not leave you. It followed you around like a ghost, always lingering in every corner of every room you entered. Bucky felt sympathy for you, but even he couldn’t help you. You had to pull yourself from the depths of the ocean by yourself, had to swim back to the surface without a life vest or oxygen tank strapped to your back and you constantly felt like you were going to drown. Maybe you already had and this was your purgatory.

You couldn’t help but regret it sometimes. Getting together with him. It was when that looming darkness engulfed you that you allowed yourself to regret ever getting to meet him. You’d lay in bed at night and pray to the Gods to turn back time just once, allow yourself to make the choice that would’ve prevented you from getting to learn who Steve Rogers was because that choice ultimately led you to fall in love with him. If only you knew then what you knew now.

You sat by the fireplace alone now, staring at the smoldering embers and the flames that licked slowly burning wood. You watched the trees move in the wind by yourself now, watched the rain drip against the window panes with your knees pulled up to your chest. How could loving Steve Rogers hurt so fucking bad?

“How you holding up, kiddo?” Bucky asked, taking a seat beside you on the couch that directly faced the window.

“I’m alright,” you responded, voice raspy and dry.

He offered you a glass of water, which you took gladly. At least someone cared about you despite your efforts to push everyone away.

“I talked to him this morning,” he said finally, “he misses you, I think. Might even regret his decision to leave.”

Your eyes flicker to Bucky, then fall back on the fireplace, “I miss him too.”

“He asked how you were doing,” he said carefully.

“What did you say?”

Bucky exhaled, “I didn’t lie.”

A comfortable silence fell over you, allowing you to listen to the crackling of the fire and Bucky’s breathing beside you. Sometimes, no words needed to be said for them to be exchanged. You toyed with the shaggy blanket over your lap, twirling the fabric between your fingers.

“I don’t think he has a lot of time left.”

You scooted closer to him, allowing your head to rest on top of his torso. He patted your head and drew circles in your hair while you rested your eyes for a moment. You hardly slept the night before and were beginning to feel drowsy. You started napping frequently, finding sleep wherever and whenever you could because your bed was too empty and too large at night.

“Will you come with me?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I will,” he said, nodding although you couldn’t see it, “I’ll come with you.”

“When?”

Bucky’s shoulders rose, “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll make time.”

Maybe you should’ve known that he’d go back to her if the opportunity arose. You’d heard stories, of course, Bucky had told you enough. Steve didn’t talk about her much, except for after her funeral, which he attended alone without telling you. You should’ve known it then with how messed up he was after her death. Should have known that he’d never been able to really get over her. You couldn’t even really blame him, either. She’d been ripped from him when he went into the ice and was already on her deathbed by the time he woke up. For her, a lifetime had gone by. To him, it felt like seconds. It’s how Bucky must’ve felt when he came back after the Snap.

Sitting with him on the couch, you weren’t sure if you would’ve changed things. You had a lot of good times with Steve, they largely overshadowed the bad. He’d made you a stronger person, made you appreciate your talents and weaknesses for what they were and he never made you feel less than your worth. He was a good man, you knew it deep down, but accepting that you might not have been good enough for him was a wound that would never heal, not even as you took your last breath.

Still, a small shimmer of hope began to grow somewhere deep within your chest like a seed had been planted. Laying with Bucky in silence, watching the rain pitter-patter against the window, made you think one thought before sleep engulfed you properly for the first time in months.

Maybe things were the way they were meant to be.

#steve rogers imagine #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america smut #captain america fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #jammywrites #steve rogers angst #captain america angst

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friendofthecrows · 3 years

Text

Posting a way more in-depth description of my alters than any of you want or need because why not

Keiko: friendliest, nicest, cutest, acts the youngest. Used to front a lot when we were hanging out with friends. Still essentially like the rest of us in that she has the same personality disorders (pointing this out because you wouldn’t guess she has ASPD but we all do. No, none of us are “more of a psychopath” or evil vs good or whatever compared to one another). She just seems more able to feel/express the positive spectrum of emotions, she hasn’t repressed it or detached herself from it as much. She/her pronouns. Aroace. Current fave thing: either MLP or stimboards

Miyuki: calm, collected, responsible, acts like a gatekeeper of the system a lot as in she’s the only one we can actually trust to moderate the rules objectively. Also has pulled people out or put people in control before. Less “control panel” access than say Jokul or I though, but probably only due to lack of practice. THE most sane one (idk how that works either) and the one with the least emotional turmoil. Used to wonder if 1. She was capable of caring about people and 2. If she actually felt any emotions at all. The answer is yes she does, she just Bottles Them Up Completely. We are taking it in faith that she feels stuff because the body cried once while she was in control. Pronouns: she/her. Sexuality: ???? when it comes to romance, but definitely ace. Current fave thing: tea, specifically a nice warming oolong like Da Hong Pao.

Yahto: (me!) people are suggesting ways to describe me and it is mean. For most of my knowledge of my own existence as a separate alter, I’ve kind of assigned myself the role of protector. I was very functional as well! Confident (bordering on insufferably arrogant), and with the level of detachment from my emotions I had at the time as well as my complete lack of fear, perfectly suited to deal with a wide variety of situations. Only if we were okay with other people thinking we’re weird because I used to have a worse filter than I have now. I experienced fear for the first time 3.5 years ago right alongside the strongest emotions I’ve ever felt and my mental health has been spiraling downwards ever since :) Also I am literally the most stubborn person you will ever meet. He/him pronouns. Anything having to do with orientation is a big question mark right now, I just know I’m probably not interested in men. I HAVE dated women but tbh I’m no longer sure if I’m even interested in them. Current fave thing: yahto.exe stopped working 38 hours of being awake ago. Uh,,,,idk sorry How about reading fzanfic to pass the time fnafic fanfic

Jezebeth (Jez): (headspace bestie! Great at writing horror poems!) Does Not Care About People but also surprisingly extremely chill. When she’s enthusiastic about something, she’s REALLY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT IT but otherwise mostly just stays quiet and has a nice time Observing. People either find her really fun to be around or creepy. No in between. She went through a phase where she thought it was funny to creep people out by saying really messed up things so that probably didn’t help. Actually, DURING said phase, she single-handedly made and maintained the best in-school friendship we ever had for 4 years. Literally none of us talked to her except for Jez. She just had endless “creepy” conversation topics and Robin thought it was *amazing. * She/her pronouns, I have no idea sexuality wise simply because she does not talk about that kind of thing. Current fave thing: inking pens :)

Jokul: (sworn enemy, tried to kill myself once to take him down with us) Perfectly reasonable person realistically. Nothing particularly wrong with him. I just Do Not Like Him. Especially since for as long as I can remember, we’ve made it a game to torment each other. You see, we both hate boredom more than anything else, or at least we did when we were even younger and more naive and we’re not actually malicious, and yet foolishly prided ourselves on not being nice and also our ability to manipulate people. No, little kid me was probably not actually an expert on manipulation, we just thought we were at the time. This all resulted in us taking our boredom, pent up malice, and desire to prove we were better than one another on each other. Such a great idea (sarcastic). We did in fact get better at emotionally wounding people after years of practice, and predictably (if we had any foresight on this matter at all) it backfired! I did in fact turn this skill against the one person I cared about in an effort to push them away during one of my breakdowns and it resulted in 6 suicide attempts, not including my own. Jokul has been trying to manipulate me positively since (both of us have been ordered to be nice to each other by Miyuki because we were causing too many problems) and it has Not Worked. If he was a separate person, I would skin him. The only person I’ve hated so much. We’ve been on relatively good terms lately. Been capable of having casual conversations. Things are okay, I guess. His personality is entirely fake, so I don’t know how to describe it except for how he acts when we’re trying to hurt each other, which might be him dropping his mask or it might be a whole different act just for that. Pronouns: He/him. Sexuality: He can change it at will? I think default is aroace though? Current fave thing: *Jokul imitation* “My purple silk dress I wear when I’m meeting people and am desperate for them to worship my beauty. I look so irresistibly elegant in it, it makes everyone like me automatically.” His actual answer is Death Note (cringe) (I’ve been yelled at for calling Death Note cringe)

Gracelynn: (headspace ex-bestie) Everyone thinks she’s the nicest person ever and super loyal and so on. She is to other people but apparently not to me anymore. Still finds it difficult to empathize with people and care about them, but apparently decided to be nice anyways. Like she doesn’t get the fuss about friends but she’s here for them anyways. Spends as much time daydreaming as possible these days, used to front A TON a few years ago. Extremely shy and full of social anxiety and anxiety in general. Goes nonverbal in a plethora of social situations. Freakishly good memory. Has way less memory gaps than I do and I have no idea why. She/her pronouns, probably aroace Current fave thing: brace yourself for no surprises, a tie between horseback riding and the Chronicles of Amber.

Ryo: (the alter of many names: Ryo, Rachel, Ry, Rei, R) The newest. Noticed a new voice and behavior that did not match any of ours a while after the events of 3.5 years ago. Might be coincidence, might not be, I don’t care. Kind of down to earth and practical and normal compared to the rest of us. Despite him being here for years now I don’t know that much about him partially because I don’t care and haven’t been paying attention, and partially because system communication hasn’t been that great (I’ve also been getting way more memory gaps! Whole days lost! Isn’t that great? (sarcastic)). Pronouns: varies, any are fine. (Despite us, in general, identifying as gender fluid so we don’t have to explain, Ryo is the only ACTUALLY gender fluid alter in our system) Aroace. Current fave thing: He said sleep, he wants us to go to sleep. (refuses to answer the fun question genuinely) Well Ryo, you have just failed my vibe check. Your reward is uh,,,AT LEAST 13 more hours of being awake. Yayyy

(I did colors here but the all green theme will stay in other posts <3 Really if I had to describe our auras it would be different shades of blue anyways.)

#if you actually read all this thank you and why #alters #system #headspace #DID #headmates #dissociative identity disorder #hal rambles #mental illness #long post

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Kait Reacts To The AE 9/?

Hi! These reactions are written out every time a Chatroom opens and it’s done over the course of the day. So, you’re watching me react in real time as it is for me. So, Spoilers AHOY. Expect Another post like this later today, there is just too many chats to put it all in one post. So, hey, if you click this, you’re opening yourself to spoilers, you make the choice.

[16:25]

Rika isn’t happy to say the least. I mean, what do you expect? She’s a path of destruction and a downward spiral that we can’t ignore. We can’t ignore it cause we are at the mercy of that destruction. It’s a really short chat because she has a lot on her mind from what she saw earlier.

The little glass house that he was trying to build for herself huh? Yeah, that’s crumbling because she seems to know very that she’s got no control over him anymore and that’s not what she wants. She wants him to be pliable. Mailable. She just wants him to be the way that Ray was, honestly, I note that from the start of the chat. The Ray that we knew and loved at the start that’s now apart of GE Saeran.

She wants him to break. She wants him to bow his head and listen and he’s not going to do that. I don’t imagine he ever will again. He doesn’t want to do that and that’s that. She leaves the chatroom really quickly, though, I can sense that something isn’t right. When people like this tend to get angry and mad about the loss of control over people, they tend to—

Lash out.

I’m actually really proud of Saeran. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about forgive or judge. He doesn’t want to waste his energy loathing or living or stewing in the pain. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel it. He knows that pain and he very well knows it. He knows this like the back of his hand. He knows what it feels like to used, to be manipulated, to be hurt, and so on and so forth. He looks at Rika, and he just simply says it like it is. He saw what he did. He saw what Rika did, and he is aware of the... connection.

Rika pushed him to hurt in the same ways that she hurt. The difference is that he was able to realize he was wrong. The need to put up walls and to be strong, to hurt before you are hurt. He knows that feeling very well. He knows what that is because he did it himself, and he’s still apologizing and trying to make up for that fact every single day. He knows that forgiveness isn’t given easily, but we gave it to him and he wants to prove he was worthy of that.

He wants to be better, not just for me.

Not just for others.

It’s for himself. He knows what it feels like to be angry and trapped in this cycle of endless trauma, this endless struggle to be the strongest you can be to stop people from leaving you or hurting you or what have you. It hurts him to be that way, it hurts him to hurt others, it hurts him to do... that. He doesn’t want to be that way ever again. Rather, he wants to be happy. To be happy, he has to admit his mistakes and grow from that.

He has to be willing to reflect inward as well as outward.

It’s better to admit when you’ve made a mistake because then you can grow from it and become a better person. While he doesn’t like Rika or want to be near her, he does offer her some advice and it was very kind of him to do that because he doesn’t owe her shit. He just sees her suffering in this hatred and tells her why he is the way he is, and why when he and Ray came together, they learned from that and became who they are right now.

That’s all he has to say.

And Rika flips the hell out. She wants him to be angry and lash out but he’s not doing that. She wants him to hate her and she wants to see him spark with rage and anger all the time. Loathe her. Give her fire and reason to exist. This is all that she knows. She stops, “What if I do something worse to you? You’ll hate me then, won’t you?!”

Saeran, “It doesn’t matter if you do.”

“Don’t lie to me!” she shouts at him with burning in her eyes, “I know what you’re thinking. You’ll hate me! You’ll loathe me—”

“If you keep telling yourself that now... you’ll make yourself the greatest victim of all,” Saeran says. “If I get to choose what I do before I die. I want to choose to be understanding instead of hating others. I’m not saying I love you, or hate you. Sorry I changed.”

Then she fucking breaks down in tears and admits that she’s been selfish to him. She has been claiming she’s been taking care of others when all she’s been doing is torturing them. She claims that she still wants to be loved and her inner child is hurting. Her body is too big for the love she craves. She’s scared of being left behind or rejected. She says, “It’s all because I was an orphan that nobody ever wanted. I thought it would repeat forever and ever.”

Saeran stops her before she can finish. “Can I ask you something? I know you just got back but...”

“What?”

“I... I want some ice cream.”

Now that was a lot.

I’m proud of Saeran, point blank. He’s handling this much better than I do with his abuser. He’s the bigger person and he keeps his cool. I’m proud of him but I don’t trust Rika. She spiraled but she’s not turning over to our side. I don’t trust that. I don’t trust her. She’s too dangerous and volatile. She’s going to crack at some point and honestly.

I’m kind of worried about the one big secret that remains. Is she going to break down and admit what she did to Mother Choi? She literally said that was the very moment that she gave up on everything and let herself do things without looking back or questioning the good or bad in it. She just acted. So, I have to wonder if that secret will be revealed...

I don’t know.

It might make matters worse.

[17:55]

I’m a bit complicated. I know that Saeran has decided not to lash out at Rika, it is out of pity, more than anything. He hasn’t forgiven her but he’s being the bigger person and that’s respectable. Rika has... done a 180 degree turn in a matter of minutes and that’s not okay. Listen, things don’t change that fast. If you move too fast and don’t even think it through, something is going to go wrong here. I do not know if it’s... if she’s going to lose her mind about something or if she’s going to reveal the truth.

I don’t know if she’s going to crack here. I honestly cannot tell what’s going to happen with Rika. It’s too calm, it’s too fast, and it’s too simple. I’m not going to be tricked or led to believe that she’s going to turn around this fast. Nope, that is not how this works. Let me just show the two moments that let me know again all I need to know:

She’s saying that she’s grateful Saeran hit her with a callout post. She says that she’s grateful that he’s being “kind.” She gets that he just looks at her as someone he wants to understand in some kind of way, but one day she hopes that she’ll be able to draw a smile out of him the same caliber that we do for him and that’s...We all know this isn’t going to last.

Any shift that Rika has had is going to be broken the minute that Saeyoung and I are meant to escape and I’m honestly... fearful. Rika has blacked out in self-defense before and killed someone. We all know who she killed. We all know that this is somehow going to tie together somehow. I don’t know how but this is just my suspicion!

And then she hit me with the good old:

Don’t worry, Saeran swapped the secure chat on when she left. He said the RFA can join the safe chat now, and that they could be seeing that we’re talking to one another right now... and he begins to do this again, telling me that he’s going to leave. He doesn’t want me to be said. But, I’m sad. I know that this isn’t really what he wants but he doesn’t see anything else...

He’s willing to be selfless if it protects others. I know that feeling very well, but it is hard to be this type of person when someone does it to you. Honestly, if the boys were both awake, we, all three, would be having a bickering match about who should stay behind because my dumbass would be saying leave me while they be free, Saeyoung would disagree that Saeran and I should leave, and Saeran would say that no, Saeyoung and I should leave because he can survive this.

He... says that when he looks at the clouds, he thinks of me now. We know that he value that freedom. I try. I try to plead with him. I can’t accept it, that’s not how to get the good ending, at least, that’s what I think. I’m literally doing this blind without any help and I’m just following my heart. I don’t always get hearts so I’m not sure!

So, here we are... crying about the end. Well, I am. I’m still crying.

I’m not leaving you behind, Saeran. I won’t. I have to find a way to make this work and I have to find a way to protect you. I don’t know what I’m going to do but I have to try.

I’m not sure if we’re in the same room as Saeran when this happens, but V comes into the room. He suddenly says that he wants to release Saeran. He said that Rika said to do it. He asks if he runs. V said, “The agents will catch you if you try. You will not be going anywhere. But.. I guess Rika trusts you.”

V looks strained.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

V calls after this.

V actually agrees with me that Rika changed too fast. Well, I can see even in your darkness and worst self, you know that she’s progressing a way that isn’t good. He says that he failed Rika because he was too scared to tell her to her face what he felt. Rika’s change is welcome, he says, but he has his doubts on this. He and V need to reflect, he says. He just wishes that things are going to be peaceful after Saejoong. He says something odd after I ask if his plan is going to work. “You sound as if there is something I am unaware of.”

V, I don’t trust you.

He says that he wants to help Rika, but honestly, this isn’t the way. What’s worse is that he’s starting to imply something that builds onto my fear of what Rika is most guilty of. The murder is a big deal. I’m not gonna lie. That was what she called her moment of no return. So, you know. He knows. I know. This isn’t going to be the same very soon.

Yeah. I thought so.

Anyways. I called Saeran after this and I got a very lengthy call with him. I did cry about it. He talks about the stars... he wishes he could share the view with the three of us. I ask him if he wants to say anything to Saeyoung, what would he ask if we were together like this? He says... well, I find himself drawn to the Gemini constellation. I often imagine... what he may think when he sees it. I say that he would think of him. Saeran is worried that he might be annoyed, but I know him. Saeyoung would never.

Saeran sighs. “Yeah, you spent more time with him then I did. He gave up everything for me. I hope he becomes free. I hope that he can go on rides... I know he loves cars. One day fly away far in a spaceship... get some ice cream... I’m sure he’d love exploring. I hope that he explores all kinds of places for me. I hope that he tells himself that I see what he sees when he sees the stars, and the Gemini.

And now, Saeran has got me fucking sobbing again. I swear to go, I keep fucking getting upset and crying. I haven’t been okay since 11:11AM. I cannot even express words right now. I’m just crying because I love him so much and all of this. Magenta... Ray... Suit Saeran... Saeray. I’m just... I. You can see what I mean here. I was crying and I stupid laughed when he brought up those times in the past.

He was always there when I needed him.

[19:09]

Saeran isn’t tied up anymore. That’s good. Rika let him go free from the chains and that’s... okay. She’s still... you know? She even jests that she may consider talking to the agency for a moment to let me stay, but I know that’s a farce. She doesn’t want that. The second that you say you don’t want it, she just turns it right back against you and says that she can not involve you in this, and yeah, it isn’t a surprise. Rika has always said what people want to hear. I don’t trust her change for a second.

She asks if we’ll talk after this. V logins in before I can answer. I say that it’s a relief that things have “loosened” up. V goes, “Was it vicious before?” Really? You are gonna say that when you drugged Saeyoung in front of you? Really? In front of my brother in law? REALLY?

V very clearly doesn’t trust this change in Rika. He has to ask if she really is okay. I hate that I snorted at this. I really do. It’s not funny.

V asks why it never worked when they were together, then. She says that she was too scared of what everyone would think when they knew who she really was but now she doesn’t have that. Everyone knows what she really is and who she really is. Saeran “only wanted to be nice to me. He’ll be nice, that’s how he has decided to live now.”

Unlike Saejoong.

Rika asks me I think that she’ll pay the price. What is that price? She says that she is ready for the waves to crash.

I doubt it.

You’re still hiding something.

V says that he wants to have the surgery to fix his eye after they make up with Saeyoung, and Rika goes, “I’m sorry. But, hey, I should go ahead and book it for you since that’s going to happen either way!”

Then she leaves, and I’m stuck with V again. I have a sinking feeling in my damn gut and oh my fucking GOD. WHY AM I RIGHT AGAIN?! “Rika has a secret. It is a big one. I don’t know if things wil hold... if Saeran learns the truth. But, I think it is time. I think it’s time to talk about the truth. I need to see if this sweet hope is actually something that I can manifest.”

He leaves the chatroom and the Visual novel starts. He takes Saeran out of the room to talk. Saeran doesn’t want to because it’s getting late and we only have so much time together but... V notes that something is off. But, Saeran talks fast and wants his answers to what this is about. V sighs, saying that they cannot talk where Rika can hear them. He asks Saeran if he thinks that Rika has really changed or not.

Saeran asks why he went back to her... was it to make her secure? He has to admit that he doesn’t understand V. He wants to know why he left all of that and if it’s really because he... doesn’t want to be his father and do what he did to his mother, you know? V says... kind of, but there’s more to it than that. V wants his answers to something. Maybe the guilt of who Rika is now. He only knew the change from Rika. That’s why he always followed after her. He knows that it’s dumb and that he’s being stupid. Jihyun admits that he’s done wrong, he went and protected a criminal and hurt his friends.

Saeran says, “Well you must be curious yourself then if you’re willing to risk all of that.”

V says, “Well, I’m deformed. You know that.”

“It took you two a while to get here,” Saeran says.

“I’m not sure if we are there or if you can say there is an US,” V says.

Have they changed? Will they ever know? He’s afraid but he wants to see the burns through until the end. Saeran scoffs, “The way that you love is dangerous and bizarre.”

“I’m deformed,” he repeats. “That’s why I’m attracted to this, I suppose.”

V admits that he heard what Rika and Saeran talked about. He heard it and he wonders about this. Does he really mean this? Does he mean that he will stay the way he is now if he knows? If he knows that there is something more? Will he stay the same even if there is something horrible about Rika? Will he forgive her? Will he forgive V?

That’s his Question.

Saeran, “There’s something I’m not aware of?”

V, “...If you can treat her well even after learning the very last fault, she will change. I know it. So... would you?”

FUCKING KNEW IT. FUCKING CALLED IT. I WAS RIGHT. I WAS FUCKING RIGHT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. Rika is going to crack when the secret is going to be revealed, oh my God, what is going to happen in the two chats that are left at the end of the day? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING TO HAPPEN?

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