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#anyway I am suffering and I'm making the rest of you suffer!!!
chronal-anomaly · 1 year
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Do you ever just -
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oepionie · 1 year
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—"POETIC RIZZ" various
SYNOPSIS: Horrible 3AM post—Just a bunch of random quotes/lines from various shows & books that i mixed together (Also diasomnia has the best rizz ngl)
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WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RIDDLE ONCE SAID
"In vain, I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever. And so I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my lover."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT DEUCE ONCE SAID
“This feeling has possessed me, I think and...I wanted to tell you that wherever you may end up in this world, I will be searching for you. I'm not afraid of anything now. I finally understand. I'm in love. We're in love. That means we'll meet again. I'm sure of it. ”
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LEONA ONCE SAID
"I had not intended to love but now, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. And I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I'll love you then. You're more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT RUGGIE ONCE SAID
“I love you but I know it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard; I'm gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you; forever and everyday.—I am who I am because of you. You are every reason, every hope, and every dream I've ever had, and no matter what happens to us in the future, everyday we are together is the greatest day of my life."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT AZUL ONCE SAID
"I desire more…than what's within my reach. Who blames me? Many call me discontented. I couldn't help it: the greed is in my nature. Please just bear with me. You pierce through my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT JADE ONCE SAID
"I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you. Moreover, you are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT FLOYD ONCE SAID
"I heard what you said. I’m not the sappy romantic you think. I don’t want the heavens or the shooting stars. I don’t want seaglass or shiny pearls. I have all those things already. I want…you. A steady hand. A kind soul. I want to fall asleep, and wake, knowing my heart is safe. I want to love you, and be loved by you."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT IDIA ONCE SAID
"My Persephone, I would have chosen you a thousand times over, the Fates be damned. Even if they unraveled our destiny, I would find a way back to you. All my heart is yours: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT VIL ONCE SAID
"Darling you are mistaken, and you know nothing about me, and nothing about the sort of love of which I am capable. Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own. Now, tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you, anyway. Yes, you make mistakes, are out of control and at times hard to handle. But if I can't handle you at your worst, then I surely don't deserve you at your best."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT ROOK ONCE SAID
"In beauty of face and soul, no maiden ever equaled you. If I were to be blinded the moment I laid eyes upon your incandescent form, I would not grieve, for in that very instance I have truly gazed upon everlasting beauty."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT LILIA ONCE SAID
"Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad. But I beg of you do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you. Oh, God..It is unutterable. I can not live without you in my life. I can not live without my soul. It is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT MALLEUS ONCE SAID
“I have little left in myself—I must have you. The world may laugh—may call me absurd, selfish—but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame.”
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SEBEK ONCE SAID
"I am a gentleman. I have been raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires."
WHEN HE SAYS “ILY”, BUT SILVER ONCE SAID
"I have a strange feeling with regard to you. On some days—I have dreamed and wished I was one of your tears. To be born in your eyes, roll down your cheeks, and to die on your lips."
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shanastoryteller · 4 months
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Happy holidays! Do you have any zagreus interacting with other gods? Thanks so much
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
Other people are learning about Zagreus.
Not that they know it's him, of course. He goes by the moniker prince.
Just enough to direct prayers and pay tributes, but a nameless god standing against Demeter? It's enough to send the whole pantheon in an uproar.
It's enough to send Demeter to heights of rage that Artemis previously thought her incapable of reaching.
There are gardens that her frost can't touch. Fruit she she has no hand in growing.
There are people who will not submit and die as she wishes it, blaming mortals for her daughter's death and so making them pay the price for a lost goddess.
Not even Zeus has rained destruction upon the mortals like Demeter had and not even Zeus can stop her.
It's too much. Too much taken, too much suffering.
Persephone was a sweet girl. But her loss is not worth the life of every mortal upon the earth.
Artemis is with Aphrodite, both of them having been evoked powerfully enough to send shivers down their spine. She leans against her spear and tried to think of any other way to fix this.
It's a town on the edge of collapse, a thick forest between them and the rest of civilization. In spring the journey is long but easy enough, but it hasn't been spring for a long time.
There's no game to hunt. Loved ones are dying. They beg and beg to any god that will listen but while every god can hear them no god can save them.
None but one.
But how would they know? This far out, there only contact is other isolated villages too deep in the world.
"I'm tired," Aphrodite whispers, knees pulled to her chest, something about her coltish in her helplessness.
Artemis has never tried this. She doesn't even know if it will work. But he won't ever find his way here on his own. "Can you keep a secret, Aphrodite?"
She shifts her head enough to look at her with a single garnet eye. "What secret do you have, sister mine?"
"Aphrodite," she says warningly.
She huffs, amusement aging her. "Yes, yes, my silence or my life. What is it?"
Artemis hopes she doesn't regret this. She hopes it works. "Prince Zagreus!"
"What's Zag going to do?" Aphrodite blinks. "He can't even-"
She cuts herself off and Artemis knows she's thinking through the first part, coming to the obvious conclusion and rejecting it out of hand.
"Artemis?"
They both turn and Zagreus is standing there. Not as image or projection like he was the last time they met face to face, but solidly beside her in the flesh.
He grimaces in pain and raises a hand to his side before straightening and forcing his arm down. Whatever it is that keeps him in his father's realm still has some hold on him, it seems.
"I'm kind of in the middle of something," he says. There's blood on his teeth. There wasn't any a couple seconds ago. "Oh, hi Aphrodite. Er. Please don't tell anyone."
"It's you?" Aphrodite demands. "You?"
"I am me," he agrees.
Artemis would beat him if they had the time for it. "Can you help them? This village will die. Word of you hasn't reached them and your temples are too far to travel too even if they had."
He grins it's all red. His blood drips down his chin. "It's not going to be pretty."
Artemis has never thought about how exactly the god of life and blood spreads his blessings. She thinks she's regretting that now.
"Pretty's my domain anyway," Aphrodite snaps. "Help them."
Zagreus moves too quickly for Artemis to stop. He grabs her spear and slices down his chest and then there's blood everywhere, pouring out of him, more than should be in any one body.
Aphrodite screams and Artemis wrenches the spear away, horrified. "This is celestial silver! You can't - even gods can't heal from it!"
"Death heals all wounds," he says and there's blood down his chin, spilling out his mouth with his every breath.
Then he's running.
They talk off after him and it's easy to follow his trail, the deluge blood and smell of copper filling her nose as they chase him.
Zagreus is mad. When she wasn't looking he went insane and now she's killed him.
They have to slow him down, have to get him to Hermes. It should be easy, they're goddesses and he's dying, but he stays fast enough to stay just out of their grasps.
He's lose a body's worth of blood a dozen times over and yet still more flows.
He finally trips and falls, giving gurgling breathes.
"Zagreus!" she shouts as she and Aphrodite fall into the snow beside him. "Zagreus, hold on, it's going to be okay."
He laughs and pats her cheek. He's too pale. "Relax. I die all the time."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Aphrodite demands, trying to put her hands over the wound but it's too long to stem.
Zagreus doesn't answer.
His body goes slack and it takes Artemis several seconds to realize the person screaming is her.
Aphrodite is sitting there shell shocked and bewildered and then Zagreus's body sinks into the earth, not even reacting to Artemis's attempts to hold on.
"Oh."
She looks up and Aphrodite is looking behind them. Artemis slowly follows her gaze.
Every place blood touched the ground, there now grows bushes of bright purple berries, more vibrant than any fruit she's seen grow that shade. They grow thick and fat on every branch and if there anything like the other food in Prince's gardens, it will keep them alive and they'll be able to grow more themselves.
If they're willing to sacrifice the blood.
The next time Artemis sees Zagreus, she's going to kill him.
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tan1shere · 1 month
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Ellie Williams x female reader !
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A/n: Ellie Williams x sick stubborn reader !! Thought this would be cute because sometimes I don't like to admit when I'm getting sick as I hate it so much. Especially when something exciting is coming up- but anyways I won't blab any longer, enjoy the story beautiful people <3
Summary: you were slowly developing a cold but you were incredibly stubborn and kept saying you were fine, but the freezing winter was only making it worse, Ellie had to make you stay home so it would get better.
Warnings: fear of puking (I sadly suffer from it- and yes I can't remember what the name is 😃.) Just ellie being a sweetheart:( fluffyness !!
Masterlist
It was a cold winters day in Jackson. Snow drizzling every so often. You and Ellie were currently out on patrol at some random building. Night was beginning to come, and you and her were on your way back. "It's so cold out." You mention, hugging your jacket close to you. Ellie looks at you. "Babe, you should wear more layers." She speaks going to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You sink into her touch keeping more warm. "Im fineee." She lets out a hum. "I heard you coughing back there." You go to push her gently away from you. "I had a tickle in my throat big deal." You let out a small laugh, but she gets serious. "Well it is getting cold out I'd hate for you to get si-" "I'm fine Ellie I promise." That didn't seem too believable. As you approached the gates to the small town you lived in, you and Ellie split ways eventually. Going to your little home and flopping on your bed, getting under the covers wanting to sleep as you were exhausted from your long day.
The next day rolled around but you were glued to your bed, you knew you had to get up. Letting out a groan, opening one eye ever so slightly. You look out your window gazing at the falling snow. "So tired." You figured it was from your big day yesterday, but you were definitely wrong. Sitting up almost immediately as you begin to have a coughing fit. Just like you began to have yesterday. Weird. Once it slowly died down you look around, feeling a tad faint. When all of a sudden there was a knock at your door. "Baby, you up? It's almost 9, you've slept for awhile." You shake your head out of your small daydream and get up, going over to your door and opening it. You look at Ellie but she widens her eyes. "What?" You were confused by it. "You look incredibly pale." She had worry in her tone, coming inside and shutting the door. "I'm probably just cold Elli-" That was cut short when you felt a soft and cold hand on your forehead. "Uh uh you're burning up." This made you even more confused. I mean, you did feel a bit off. But you had so much to do today, you couldn't take a break or anything.
After all it was probably nothing... right? "Ok, well I'll be ready in a second." Which earns a shake of her head. "Ellie-" "you're so stuck in your ways huh? You're clearly sick." You roll your eyes. "I am not sick, I swear." Once again this woman believes nothing that's coming out of your mouth. "You're full of shit you know that." You attempt to ignore her and head outside anyways, but she instantly blocks the door. "Let me out." "Nope." You huff. "I told you I'm not-" you couldn't even finish that argument because you start coughing like a crazy person. "You were saying?" Letting out a long groan you get back on your bed. You just wanted to go out, you loved doing your little jobs, and the snow. It bummed you out when you were sick. But you were really glad that Ellie was the type to not take no for an answer. Because after a few minutes had passed you were getting worse.
You only wanted to get some water for that pesky scratch in your throat, while Ellie was reading something on your nightstand, laying in your bed. Her attention turns to you as she notices you gripping the sink in the small kitchen you had. "Baby?" You don't reply trying to calm your aching skull. "Hey, everything alright?" She asks again, more concerned. "I just got really dizzy.." You sigh out, trying to stand properly. Ellie gets up going over to you. "Why don't you go lay down and rest, I'll get you these things ok?" You want to nod but knowing your head is pounding you settle for an 'mhmmm' She watches as you take your drink going to walk close behind you, making sure you don't get too light headed. This is when Ellie goes full protective girlfriend mode. She makes you lay down under the covers, wanting you to have as much comfort as possible. "Are you too warm or cold?" You ponder her question. "I'm quite cold." She begins to bundle you up in the blankets, making sure you're warm enough but not to the point of overheating.
Next she will dampen a cold cloth to put on your burning forehead, in hopes it'll ease your growing temperature. "Have you got a thermometer anywhere." You didn't find it as necessary but she still wouldn't take no for an answer. "Probably in the first aid kit in the bathroom." You'd respond. She goes to grab it, coming back over to you. "Mouth open, tongue up." You give her a look. "Ellie come on-" "I need to see exactly what you're at." She'd reply. "You're ridiculous." But you do as she said, feeling the cool glass hit your tongue, keeping it there for however long it needed to be. She takes it out looking at it. "Maybe we should get Maria or Joel- this is concerning." You put a hand on hers. "Baby, I promise you this is all ok, I'll be fine." But you keep proving your points wrong when suddenly you sneeze randomly. She gives you a 'I'm literally right' sort of look. Resulting in you just shaking your head, leaning back against your bed.
You got to admit tho, you wanted to stay strong for Ellie, but you were quite scared. Yes you hated being sick, colds, stuffyness. But one thing you dreaded the most was puking. As the day went on you were convinced it was just a runny nosed cold. When you felt a hurling ache in your lower stomach. Which soon started progressing higher, making that watery feeling arise. You swallow getting really worried. You avert your eyes to Ellie who was folding some of your clothes. She had been doing little things around your home all day to help you out. You try so incredibly hard not to let this feeling out, but your anxiety increases as the feeling does too. "E-ellie." You try to get out worried if you open your mouth in the slightest something might erupt. Your hand makes its way underneath your breasts. Rubbing circles, hoping the horrid feeling will just fuck off. "Yeah my girl?" She softly replies. But you don't think you can answer. You need to get the message across but you're so scared.
She whips her head around to look at you, seeing your skin getting even more pale and noticing your actions. Her eyes widen as she soon realizes. Ellie knew your fear, ever since the first time you puked infront of her she hated the gut wrenching cry of pain you let out once you had, your tears hurting everything inside of her. Stopping what she was doing she makes her way over to you, sitting on the bed. "Hey, look at me baby." Her tone was still as soft as anything. "I'm scared." You blurt out. "I know, I know. But maybe you need to. Get out all of those icky bugs inside you." You were instant to shaking your head. "You don't need to be scared I'm right here. I promise." She speaks, holding your hand. You let go of a shaky breath, taking in her gentle words. "Let me get the bowl ok?" She gets up going to do just that, bringing it over to you. It took a few seconds for you to just give into the thing you were dreading, holding it back. Once you do she was quick to putting your hair back and out of your face.
Putting it in a small bun, knowing this wasn't the last time you'd be puking that day. Not long after she hears your soft cries, and that gut wrenching sound of absolute pain. "Ellie." You make a disgusted face, tasting the horribleness. "I know my baby, I know." She gives you a small frown, wanting to take all this pain away from you. "Everything hurts." She rubs a soothing hand on your head moving to set the bowl down and clean it out soon. "I'm sorry Els." But she shakes her head. "You can't help being sick angel, just hurts to hear your cries and pains." You nod. "I hate it." "Me too darling. Being sick is the worst." There was a small silence. "Want me to lay with you precious girl?" Your heart melted at how caring this woman was. "You've done so much for me today- I really don't want to get you sick-" But she puts a finger on your mouth shhing you. "Don't be silly babe, I'd rather get sick then leave you here all by yourself. That's horrible to even think about." She goes to get into bed with you. Immediately you snuggle close to her. "Thank you." She smiles. "No need to thank me love, I'm always here for you." You let a smile spread across your face feeling exhausted. "Why don't you have a little nap and then we can try to get you to drink something when you wake up." And you couldn't agree more to that nap. Sleeping almost instantly.
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comicaurora · 8 months
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What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.
That's what I've heard!
The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.
Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.
Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.
Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?
I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.
The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.
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sunnymainecoonx · 8 months
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(Ahem, 2 minutes future Sunny speaking) context is, simply put, Dream momentarily forgot about everything that went wrong. But, he doesn't have to dwell into that anymore, not when the (literally pointless)war is over.
Headcanon time lessgo!! Dream never got into any hobbies because of his job as a guardian but there is one thing he knows how to do and that's making flower crowns :3 and since it's connected to childhood memories he tends to forget how cruel the world is. Luckily though, war is over ;3 so he can finally rest!!.... At least in this timeline.(Sunny, shush, stop, YOU NEED TO STOP YOU F—) and since we're talking about flowers..(we are?) I'm also gonna mention I see Dream as a big flower nerd :3(stop doing that face) and it's even more fun out in the multiverse 'cause god are there so many flowers!! He also likes to see what kind of absurd flowers he can make fit together :3(Sunny, what did I just say)
Also, let me introduce y'all to my "crying you a river" style! Created by my literal tears :3(....) I suffer from life crisis whenever art styles and this one is just a silly and simple funker. I'm gonna lend this art style to... Dreamtale Sunny! Yeah, he exists apparently... I usually make or have OCs that I use to represent different styles- which is one way to hide who I am ig...
Anyways— @cakesmelons I'm picking the star Sanses because this was already being made(here u go bessie) TwT I just— I need to break my hands wait I meant
....anyways. I have to give credits to Roxy(creator of Slash) because my thoughts while I came up with this was inspired by that one comic where Dream literally forgot his brother was dead :3(Sunny I hope you die)(...please don't—)
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shycloudkitty · 2 months
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Could this Valentine's Day be any better?
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Summary: Unfortunately, you are sick this Valentine's day. All the plans you made were gone to trash. Although, Leon still tries his best to make it a special day for you and him. And by best it means… the one that both of you will remember for the lifetime. ;)
Pairing: Death Island! Leon × Gn! Reader
Tags: Tooth rotting fluff, leon calling reader sweet nicknames, leon being a caring boyfriend. (A bit of negative self-talk from the reader's side), Also there's a few Nsfw jokes and a bit of suggestive content so…Not that much so don't worry.
A/N: If you couldn't tell, I wrote this while I was sick and college exams being like a week away 🥲. Also I am single and valentine's just around the corner and yes, I am sick🥲🥲🥲. Personally, not a fan of this combination (It sucks here😭). Anyways, it gave me the perfect opportunity to be delulu about Leon.
So that's what this is - me being delulu, but I hope you all enjoy this fic and have a good day. Thank you to @nexysworld and @luniaxi for beta read🥰
(Also I know it's not Valentine's Day today. Like I said I was terribly busy🥲)
WC: 4.5K
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It's Valentine's Day. The day of love. The day of sweet chocolates, beautiful bouquets and heartfelt love confessions.
It was a special day for couples, young or old. A reminder that pure love never grows old or wither away, in fact it only grows deeper as time passes by. The day was a reminder to cherish it as long as you can.
Which is what you would have been doing with your boyfriend today, if you weren't sick. Yes, you are sick, why? Because you have bad luck. A really terrible one.
Out of all 365 days in the year you had to be sick today. The most important day and say goodbye to all the romantic plans you made. The candlelight dinner, the cute dinner outfit you bought. But, no now you have to kiss it all goodbye and just grumble about what could have been.
To say that you were disappointed and angry was an understatement.
You blamed the seasonal changes for the condition you were in. You are in bed, not even having an ounce of energy to sit up properly, a bad throat, headache, body pain, cough and fever.
The only good thing was that your high fever had almost subsided only because of your sweet, caring, most down to earth person, your boyfriend made it his mission to take care of you during these tough times.
The moment he knew you were sick, he dropped everything he was doing and immediately wrapped a blanket around you after he had you settled in bed. Making you hot tomato soup, your favorite ramen, chamomile tea, anything that would help you feel better.
You were in your bed, trying to take a good rest but the body pain you had was making it really difficult. It was noon right now but what could you possibly do besides resting anyways?
“It will get better, just rest. I'm here.” He said as you complained about the condition you were in. He tried to soothe you with the sweetest smile he could muster, his warm blue eyes reassuring you that it will in fact get better even if you didn't believe it.
You clutched your head when you felt the pain coursing its way in your head, giving you a migraine. “I can't sleep Leon…it's so difficult.”
Leon could see the tears of frustration slipping from your eyes as the overall pain troubled you from getting you even a moment of relaxation.
And it broke his heart to see you in so much pain. Knowing he couldn't take the pain away entirely. Even if he was cooking you hot meals and soup it was still going to take some time to heal.
If it was up to him he would move mountains just for you to feel better even for a second. He wished he could just snap his fingers and take all the pain you had and give it to himself. Obviously, he wouldn't say it out loud cause he knew it would get you upset but he really wished he could do all that.
He was willing to suffer, if it meant you would never have to.
Your tired body slowly felt the warm calloused hands, slowly bringing you in his arms and hugging you tightly but keeping his hold gentle, so as not to cause you any discomfort as he cuddles with you. And pulled the blanket over you both to keep you warmer.
You looked up at him with a tired face as he gently rubbed your back with his hand. Slowly massaging your back with his strong fingers, trying to get rid of those sore spots. You felt his soft lips on your forehead giving you a loving kiss, which already had you melting in his big arms.
“Feeling better?” He asked in the softest voice possible and brought his other hand to your temple. Rubbing the sore spot with his thumb gently, which had you crying in pain earlier.
Your eyes slowly closed and a soft relaxed sigh escaped your lips as you gave a small nod. His gentle touch, the sweet voice, the soft kisses surely gave you a moment to relax.
Leon peppered soft, gentle kisses across your whole face while still massaging your back and temple. Soon he moved his hands to your waist to pull you more close so you were pressed up against his chest.
You looked up at him, opening your eyes for a moment, looking at him and wondering how could he even tolerate to even stay this close to you, while you had a running nose & weakness all over.
You didn't feel pretty or cute right now, you felt sick and horrible. Hell, even you wouldn't stay this close to yourself. But here he was… smiling down at you, massaging your sore spots, cuddling with you, trying his absolute best to help you regain your health.
“Have something to say, Darling?” He asked when he noticed you staring at him, lost in thought.
You sniffled a bit and replied. “You know… you will get sick if you stay so close to me.”
You heard a warm chuckle, feeling him hug you tighter. “Worrying about me even when you are sick? You are too sweet for your own good, y'know.”
You rolled your eyes and hit him lightly on his arm. “I'm not kidding.”
Leon chuckled once more seeing the glimpse of the playful attitude you always had. It made him feel better that you were feeling better enough to talk.
He smiled and shook his head lightly. “I will be fine. Relax.”
You huff and say. “You say that now, but if we both got sick at the same time there will be no one to take care of us. Like how will I take care of you? When I'm not even able to get out of bed?”
It wasn't like you weren't grateful for his actions. Of course you were, but if he got sick because of you, the guilt would definitely hit you in the chest about it. Also being sick definitely made you cranky.
Leon raises an eyebrow at your words and tries to hold in a chuckle seeing you argue with him on this, trying his best to be serious. He then smiled and cleared his throat and slowly replied. “Well… first off I'm not gonna get sick. Second… even if I actually got sick, I'm pretty confident I could still take care of you.”
You looked up at him again, a bit touched with his words. “Are you sure?”
Leon playfully rolled his eyes. “Honey, I got infected with viruses you couldn't imagine. This is nothing. So yes, I'm sure.”
Well… he had a point. But you still had something in your mind that you were itching to ask.
You sighed, snuggling up closer than possible. Trying to relax your mind with his scent. Trying to remind yourself that he was really here and not to some far off mission.
You bit your lips nervously. “Are you mad at me for ruining this valentine day?”
Leon’s expression softened further as he realized that you feel guilty. It wasn't your fault, you couldn't control it. Plus, this didn't ruin anything. Yes it was a bit stressful but that was okay, your health was more important than valentine day. If anything this brought you both closer than ever.
“Baby… you can't ruin it just cause you got sick. I love you. Always. Why would I get mad at such a thing? If anything I am glad I got to spend this time taking care of you.”
He pressed a kiss on your cheek and continued. “You can't ruin anything. Ever.” You sighed softly as he said that. A bit relieved that he at least doesn't think it was the worst valentine day ever.
You closed your eyes, feeling the body pain ease a bit. The medications and the cuddling was really taking a number on you. Almost ready to fall asleep.
Leon noticed how you became less chatty, slowly falling in and out of sleep. He slowly sat up in bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping form. And took hold of your legs and slowly started to massage the sore points present in the legs. Fingers applying firm pressure to relieve any pain that you were still having.
A sleepy sigh escaped your lips when you slowly felt the pain go away, transferring you into a state of deep relaxation…
Leon smiled to himself when he saw you sleep, free from any migraines or body pain that you may be having. He continues his massages till he is sure you won't wake up. He then puts a warm blanket over you, and softly whispers. “Get well soon baby, I have a surprise for you tonight…”
Leon gently kissed your forehead and moved away. Now he had to prepare for the surprise…
(Few hours later…)
You woke up after 3-4 hours. Your eyes slowly opened as it adjusted to the surroundings, you turned your head to look at the clock on the nightstand.
5:30pm
You sighed and looked up at the ceiling. You were definitely feeling a lot better now. The body pain was still there but it wasn't that bad. You were still feeling weak but didn't feel like you still had a fever.
A few minutes later you heard some shuffling outside the room. You lifted your head to see what was going on and saw Leon entering the room. He smiled when he saw you were awake.
And came by your side and kissed your cheeks lovingly and mumbled. “Good evening baby… Feeling better?”
You thought about it then gave a small nod with a sigh. “Mmhmm…”
Leon smiled and planted a few soft loving kiss across your face. “Good… Because I have a surprise for you.”
Your ears perked up as soon as you heard that magical word. Surprise. You looked up at him and said, “A surprise…? What is it about?”
He smiled seeing the small spark in your eyes at the mention and gave a wink. “A valentine dinner for us at home, prepared by yours truly.”
Your eyes widened and raised yourself slightly on your elbows to look at him properly. “Wait- As in… A dinner date for today at our home.”
His smile widened further as he took both of your hands and gave it a light squeeze and nodded. A blush rising in his cheeks. If you didn't know any better he was getting a bit shy and a tad nervous too. Such a cutie pie.
“Well… I thought since you were so upset about the whole situation and I know you had plans and everything… So… I decided to bring those plans to you.” You could swear his whole face turned into a cute puppy as he told you about his plan.
Your heart melted, no you felt like your whole body melted and formed a puddle in bed. The thought of him doing so much just to see you happy and cared was enough to give you a whole swarm of butterflies in your stomach.
You were glad Leon came into your life, glad that he chose to be with you. You didn't know what you did to deserve to have this amazing man all to yourself. His icy blue eyes, his sweet demeanor, the way he made you feel… It was amazing.
You didn't know what love was until you met him. Yeah, you thought what love was before him but being with him was just… magical. He remembered almost everything about you. Yeah, yeah the bar was in hell and whatever bullshit.
But if a man like him, who literally fought bioterrorism for a living. Who probably had the most stressful job on this planet did such thoughtful gestures, who almost turned into a puppy when he saw you, looked at you with such warm and sweet eyes… It was hard not to fall in love with him.
You gathered a bit of strength and immediately hugged him tightly, burying your face in his neck and dropping a kiss there. “Thank you… I love you.”
Leon chuckled as he hugged you back. “Love you too. And it's the least I could do.” he saw how your eyes almost started twinkling and how your face brightened up to a few notches. And that's how he knew the job was well done.
Leon dropped a light kiss on your lips and softly said. “Want to get ready for it?”
You gave a nod and he smiled. “Good…Want my help with any of it?”
You were still feeling a bit weak from the illness but it was a lot better. But you weren't stupid enough to say no to his request. So you agreed.
Leon being the gentleman he was, helped you get out of the bed and basically carried you to the bathroom to help you shower. Why would he let you walk when he could just pick you up like a cat and go wherever he wanted?
As you both entered the bathroom he helped you get out of your clothes, prepared some hot water bath, lit some of the scented candles that you preferred to have while taking a bath.
You relaxed in the bathtub while he started to wash your hair. Gentle fingers massaging your scalp, threading through your hair replacing the leftover pain with a feeling of pure bliss. You had a smile on your face as he continued and looked over at him.
“Thank you…”
He met your eyes and smiled. “For what?”
“For… everything. You are the best boyfriend I ever had.”
Leon's smile brightened, feeling a surge of pride in his chest, he then kissed your forehead. “At least I'm best at something.”
You chuckled as he poked your cheek playfully and went back to washing your hair. He then tilted your head a bit and slowly poured down water on your hair to get rid of the shampoo. He then helped you shower through the rest of the body.
When you were done, he helped you get out of the bathtub and wrapped a towel around you. You looked up to see him, to see his face getting scrunched up lightly as he focused on wrapping it tightly around you. You loved it when he would do that, he looked so cute when his nose would just scrunch up lightly as he focused on whatever he was doing. It was simply adorable.
“I feel like a kid getting help in dressing up after parents made me bathe.” You made note as he searched for your clothes through your closet.
Leon had a hearty laugh at the comment and gave you a playful shrug. “Get sick like a child, get treated like a child.”
He turned towards you, taking out the outfit that you previously bought for the ‘dinner date’ you both were supposed to have before you got sick. And helped you wear it.
You smirked at him. “Oh really? Should I start calling you daddy then?”
Leon paused for a moment, his eyes immediately flicking back to you. That nickname always did something for him. And you knew that very well…you couldn't help but just poke him a bit.
A blush rose in his cheeks as cleared his throat and said. “Uh huh… Why don't we just focus on the task at hand. Which is getting you dressed.”
You couldn't help but giggle as he avoided the topic. “Oh you don't like that? I could swear that you did.”
He gave you a stern look and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Babe… don't.”
You chuckled and decided to play dumb. “What? I was just asking.”
Leon cleared his throat again, his blush deepening and slowly said. “I am glad you are feeling good enough to tease me like that. Having fun?”
“Very”
“I could tell.”
You chuckled, deciding to cut him some slack. It's not like you wouldn't like to test his patience a bit more… Maybe after dinner you might.
Leon finished helping you dress up then he also helped you with your make-up, helping you tie your hair up in a bun when you finished giving touch ups to your face.
“Like a doll. You look amazing.” Giving your ass a light smack.
You squealed in surprise which made Leon grin wider and hug you tightly in his arms. And peppered kisses all over your face. “Feeling better?”
You nodded with a bright smile. “Yes, very much so.”
Leon grinned. “Ready for the big date then?”
You eagerly nodded and Leon took a blindfold from his pocket and held it in front of you. “Want you to wear this first.”
You gave a mischievous grin, opening your mouth to come up with a quip but Leon beat you to it. “It's for not ruining your surprise, dummy.” Rolling his eyes at your antics.
You scoffed playfully. “Hey, I didn't even say anything and stop calling me that. It's mean.” You gave a fake pout and Leon couldn't help but chuckle.
It was moments like these that made him feel like that life was worth living. The small domestic moments that he never thought he would get to experience. That perhaps it was worth fighting all those man-made monstrosities and risking his life, if this is what he came home to. His safe haven.
You were worth protecting and taken care of. You deserved every bit of love he had in himself and even his life if you wanted.
Leon turned you around as he tied the blindfold around your eyes. When he finished, he gave another light smack on your ass which made you chuckle. “Well this refreshes some memories.”
Leon kissed your neck and playfully whispered. “Want me to refresh them even more after the dinner?”
You blushed and even if you couldn't see his face because of the blindfold. You bet he was smirking down at you. “Well… Maybe?”
Leon chuckled, taking your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “Well… I guess you have one more surprise after dinner then.”
You blushed even more and looked away. He grinned seeing you at a loss for words and smiled. Knowing he won that. He then took your hand and said. “Now dinner. Careful not to stumble down on anything.”
He then guided you out of the bedroom, helping you walk down the hallway to your surprise in the living room. He then stopped and slowly removed your blindfold.
Your eyes fluttered open and saw the scene in front of you. Your eyes widened and your hands flew to your mouth to contain the excitement filling your body.
The living room seemed like it was heaven of some sort. Filled with her favorite flowers, rose petals on the floor guiding the way towards the table, present in the middle of the room. The table was decorated with a beautiful centerpiece, filled with roses. The whole room was decorated with red balloons and candles.
If you didn't know any better, you would have thought you were gonna get proposed or something.
Wait-
You immediately turned around and gasped as you saw him down on one knee. An engagement ring in his hands looking up to you like you were his whole world. You were his whole world.
And it seemed like the whole world stopped for a moment, just for the two of you to have this.
You had like dozens of questions running through your head. Like how the hell did he plan all this? Did he take some help? Of course he did. But how did he do all this, the planning and decoration? And was this really even happening? Or your imagination? Was he really proposing to you? Like right now???
Leon noticed that you were well… speechless. So he took one of your hands and gave a gentle squeeze. That seemed to get you out enough of your confusion and shock. Your voice came out in a little whisper. “Leon… I…”
You didn't realize at first but you had started tearing up. Wiping your tears, you looked down at him and he was almost there, on the verge of tears but holding it in for your sake. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze and cleared his throat. “Did you like it…?”
You had a small chuckle & managed a nod while you were tearing up. Oh, it wasn't even a question that you liked it. You loved it.
Leon looked down at the ring in his fingers once more. He had a whole speech prepared on how he always thought you were the one. (Which Claire and Sherry helped him prepare;)). Now he swore he forgot all of it when the actual moment came.
Leon cleared his throat and looked up at you. You looked stunning, even with tears running down your cheeks you looked the most beautiful person ever stepped on this earth. He took a deep breath and started. “Well… to start… this is not how I planned things would go…”
Leon saw you getting confused a bit then explained. “I was originally gonna do it in the restaurant we were gonna go to… but then you fell sick and I had to bring some improvisation to my plan.”
Leon saw your little smile peeking and his confidence rose up a bit. “Umm… I had been thinking about this for a while. Like a year... And you were also dropping hints all over so yeah, I wasn't dumb enough to not understand them…”
You had a small chuckle and shook your head lightly. It was true, you tried to tease him with some videos of couples getting proposed to all he used to reply with was a small “hmm… nice.” And avoid the topic. And now that he was here he seemed so…vulnerable.
He continued. “I know you felt like you ruined this Valentine's Day. But you could never do that. You could never ruin anything. I know I said that earlier but I want you to understand that fully. Everything about you is… Perfect. Magical. There aren't enough adjectives to describe what it's like when I am here with you. You make me feel… safe and loved.”
You felt yourself tear up more when he said that. You could have never thought he felt like that with you. But you knew he was saying the truth the way he was looking at you.
He interlaced his fingers with yours when he gave a gentle squeeze again this time. “The past few days when you were sick, I loved taking care of you. To show you the love you've given me. The love you show me when you take care of me after missions, patching me up, preparing me delicious food even when you are busy with your office work. It's just… I can't believe that I deserve all that. And yes it's not the first time I took care of you but moments like these… helps me to show you and return that love your way.”
He takes another deep breath to calm himself, not yet realizing that he was tearing up at this point. “So, with all the hope I have right now, thinking I haven't exactly messed up all my speech… Will you marry me?”
You didn't know how you were even exactly standing right now after his speech. You were speechless. You had so much to say… but you couldn't even come up with one word. You gulped and took a deep breath and slowly replied.
“Yes Leon, of course I will marry you…”
Leon sighed in relief and let the tears flow from his eyes freely, holding nothing back and slipped the ring on your fingers. And stood up properly this time. He immediately brought you in his arms, cupped your face and kissed you. Pouring all the love he had for you, the love that couldn't be expressed by mere words only by actions.
You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with all the passion you had for him in the moment. His body pressed up against yours. Feeling his warmth and excitement pour into you.
You both slowly pulled back, foreheads still touching and in each other's arms, having a big dumb smile on both of your faces. “Leon… I… don't know what to say… you… did all this?”
Leon gave a light chuckle and shrugged. “I had help.” And kissed your forehead.
You sighed softly and looked down at your ring. “So now I'm your fiancée hmm?”
Leon nodded and hugged you more tightly. “Yeah. Deal with it. You are not escaping that.” His tone got a bit playful as this continued.
You giggled and playfully said. “Actually, kind of looking forward to be Mrs. Kennedy.”
Leon grinned and cupped your face once again. Having the softest eyes he had for you at the moment. “Oh yeah? Me too. The name suits you.”
He then kissed you softly on the lips again, rubbing your back and just holding you in his arms like you would drift away right now.
You both stayed like that for a moment and he asked. “Feeling hungry yet?”
You chuckled and nodded. “Yeah a little bit. What do you have for me?”
Leon grinned and pulled away, taking your hand in his and walking towards the table in the center. “Come with me, I will show you.”
And so you did. Your heart is still beating with excitement that you will soon get married and be his partner for life. And you couldn't wait for the day to come.
Maybe this Valentine's Day wasn't that bad after all.
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Phew. So that's done. Ngl I started this a few days before Valentine's Day. I was definitely gonna post it then but exams took priority 🥲. I also think I went too delulu over him lmao. But anyways, I really do hope you all enjoy this like I am sorry if this wasn't that good. Half of the time my brain wasn't working.
And I hope you enjoyed Valentine's Day with your loved ones. Have a good day🥰
-Bella
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
Text
Oblivious healer entity reader that finds joy and endless happiness every day living in a town that's basically hell on earth for its human residents
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To live in this place is to know true suffering. Life is meaningless, flesh is expendable. Few bother to make friends with their neighbors or check in relatives as tomorrow is never a guarantee. Creatures from the unknown, unexplainable disappearances, those who lost themselves and craved the same violence thrust unto them, false prophets. Those who attempted to flee often faced the worse kinds of punishment. There was truly no end to their torment.
Dazed and on the verge of collapsing, a new arrival in town found itself roaming the near empty shelves of a convenience store in ruin. Glass stabbed at its outer layer flesh, reflecting the strange clawing sensation in the lower regions of its stomach. It would later learn these feelings to be the pains of hunger, one it was not as fond of as others. The newcomer had learned so much in such a short time residing in this new town and body. It wanted to learn more - like what would happen if it stuffed those odd, brightly colored shapes into the singular hole it called a mouth. They were sweet, they were sour, they were savory- flavors and descriptions foreign til taught by those who cared for it later on.
The newcomer comes across the owner of the store laying motionless behind the counter. The syrup surrounding them is not as sweet as what it sampled from bottles in the cold storage spaces. Poking at the owner garners no response. It's then that the newcomer realizes their faults. It hadn't offered currency before eating like it'd seen others do. It didn't have those papers or coins or even those rectangular bits of plastic. It deciding the next best thing to give as payment was to fix that large hole in their face. None of the humans it came across before had one of those, so it must need fixing.
The store owner finally responded to its questions once it had repaired the hole. If the newcomer had anyway to describe the process it was like playing with clay. The store owner only answered in screams of terror until the newcomer was able to calm them enough to tell them how they had fixed them - and eaten the rest of their stock. They weren't upset by that second thought as the newcomer had thought, and even gave them a supply of their favorite treat before calling the police.
The newcomer wondered if it helped more people it would get more treats or be invited to come back anytime as the store owner had generously offered. It was having so much fun in this new form. Its powered had been limited, but the feel of warm sunlight on their skin was worth the loss. It couldn't understand why everyone around it was so unhappy when they get to wake up everyday and welcome the morning sun. It wants to fix people, it wants them to be happy. Many reject them for fear of the unknown, but those who accept cling onto them like a lifeline. Without the newcomer around they are plunged in darkness as it has become the source of light for them it speaks so highly of. The newcomer is oblivious to their devotion as it reads books about the new world and takes light of its tragedies as it takes glee I'm all its pleasures.
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Yan: Let me get this straight - you just repaired my kidneys and all you want is a hamburger?
Entity Reader: .... Two?
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Yan: There is no point in waking anymore. When I'm asleep i hear the crying of my dead mother. When I'm waking she's standing over my bed. I can't think, I can't breathe. Make it stop, make it stop- There is no reason to keep existing- I should just let my cannibal neighbor eat me
Entity Reader: ...They gave me eleven nuggets instead of ten. I am very happy right now. Want the extra? :D
Yan: ..I have never been more mentally stable than I am in this current moment, if you leave me I will die.
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[Entity Reader walks in on a friend about to be sawed in half by a masked maniac. The two share a glance before Reader throws their arms up]
Entity Reader: Frankie!! :D
[The machine rips the saw out of their victim's abdomen and rushes reader - hugging them and spinning them around as the victim fights to keep their intensities in their body]
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lovelywritinglady · 4 months
Note
Tengen +wives x reader
When the reader comes for a abusive household as a kid and suffers from depression and PTSD and has flashbacks often (like for example if it gets too loud or when she sees any type of violence) she has a breakdown she has a natural tendency to run as far away as possible to find her safe place (her room Tengen gives reader her own bedroom for when this happens) she sometimes forgets that she has a husband and wives she sometimes mistakes them for her parents and thinks they are going to do something to her (what Tengen and his wives are trying to do is to calm her down but nothing is working they give her some space they decide to get her favorite food and just forgets what happens) when they get back to their house reader is no longer in their room but in the backyard and has the most beautiful set up for dinner and wants to apologize for making a scene in public and want to make up because sometimes she feels like a burden because of the problems that she has but reassures reader they she is not a burden in anyway.
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You’re Not A Burden
Tengen x wives x fem!reader
Angst, mentions of mental health issues, triggering subjects, fluff, and reassuring themes. Tengen and the wives are the literal best! Rough language and slight physical violence.
Your Pov
The morning was crisp and clear with a slight feel of dew that has kissed the evergreen grass. I normally wake up earlier than the rest of my loves and make their food and start fixing the house from the night before. I do this to feel useful and to help out as much as I can considering the fact that I'm not a shinobi nor am I a demon slayer. Hell, I'm not really sure who I am except the fact that I'm in love with four people that are so strong and skilled. However, most of the time I'm terrified that they will push me away and throw me out. My father and mother did that a few years ago. They claimed that I was nothing a no one would ever want me and that I would die on the streets. I believed them until my husband Tengen came along and took me into his home. I then met his wives and all of us somehow fell in love. I'm forever grateful for their love and care.
Taking a deep brethe of the morning air I smiled with delight before making my way into the house to make breakfast for everyone. As I walked in I was already met with Makio and Suma making a fuss just like they do every morning. As Tengen and Hina were sitting at the table drinking their tea that I had prepared this morning. I smiled at my family starting on breakfast.
"Y/n, good morning my dear!" My sweet husband beamed at me.
"Yes, good morning love." Hina chimed in.
"Good morning everyone, food will be served shortly." I responded with a loving smile.
The other two that paused their bickering, looked at me and immediateky went to my side. "Can we help?" they both said in unison quite loudly which startled me a bit.
"No, its okay, I can manage. But thank you so much!" I beamed at them tying not to seem nervous.
"Are you sure?" Suma asked blinking her eyes adorably.
"Yes, I'm sure." I reassured her and she just smiled and went to the table along with Makio and sat themselves next to Tengen.
After a few short moments breakfast was served and my loves began digging in, but not before blessing the food and giving me thanks. I smiled at their gratitude and began eating my meal with them. And as if on cue, Suma and Makio began bickering which always made me nervous, but at this point I was use to it. That was until all hell broke lose when Suma accidentially moved in the wrong way which caused Maikio to bump into Tengen. He then moved himself out of the way which made him knock his tea on his lap that made him jump up and knock his plate along with the spilled tea cup onto the floor making a very loud crashing sound.
"You idiots, stop messin around. You made me spill the tea and food all over the fucking placsutbbornee. Be more careful!" Tengen roared loudly as he sat back down sighing as he did.
Suma and Makio were frantically apologizing and Tengen was scoulding for their clumisness, Hina was looking at me and asking me things. However, for some reason, I couldn't hear her nor the bickering that was happening at the end of the table. My breathing was heavy and it felt as though my entire being was shrouded in a storm cloud. My eyes felt heavy with tears and I'm sure I was making a face. All of it was too much and I abruptly left the room as my anxieties got too much. I ran as fast as I could to my room, locking the door as I did. I tried slowing my breathing and different methods of calming myself that I have learned over the years. However, none of that was effective as I soon found myself rembering that horrible day. The day that I was so sure would be my last day. The day my father and mother told me that I was nothing and that it would have been better if I was just dead. My mother always went on about how her body was ruined because of me and how I would never amount to anything. All of these words were echoing in my mind now. My body shook and my breathing was worse now. It felt like the air was filled with thick smog. I put my hands over my ears trying to block out the noises.
Suddenly, I felt large hand touch my shoulders and my head shot up and I saw a blurry figure trying to talk to me. I immediately retreated back screaming at the figure. "Go away! Leave me alone!" The figure walked closer and images of my father flashed through my mind and at that moment I concluded that it was him. He found me even after I had run away from him and my mother. 'Oh God was she here?' I though to myslelf. I began frantically searching the room in search of her too. As if on cue, a female figure walked into the room as well. I screamed again thinking that the figure must be her. "PLease I didn't do anything! Mom please I'm sorry don't hate me dad!" I whailed pushing myself against the wall trying to get away from them. It was all too much the fiugres getting closer and their bpoices getting clearer. As soon as I realized that the blurred figures were the loves of my life. I felt relieved as I then passed out from pure exhaustion.
When I woke up I was alone in my room surrounded by darkness. My throat felt dry and I tried calling out at something yet nothing came out. After gathing some of my strength I walked out into the kitchen to find it empty. However, a pitcher with water and a small plate of cookies were placed next to it along with a note. I sat down and poured myself a large glass of water and chugged it. I smiled at the care my loved ones show. I took small bites of the cookies savoring every delicious bite nearly crying at how good they were. I then remembered the note and carefully unfolded it. It read, "Y/n, we love you and were are so sorry that you had a hard day today. You've gotten so much better at managing your tramua and we are so very proud of you. Tomorrow all of us are going to the festival of flowers in the afternoon. You are more than welcome to join us! And please kmow that you do not need to talk about what happened if you don't want to. If you decide you want to, we are all here for you. We love you so much! With love, Tengen, Hina, Makio, and Suma." To say I was balling my eyes out was a complete understatement. I hated when my meltdowns happened but, their love and compassion for me was truly unmatched. Most of the time I question why I deserve them as much as I do. I decided right then and there that a little date outing would be nice and might be just what I need after today. So, I finished my delicious food, cleaned up, and went back to my room for some much needed rest before tomorrow.
The next day, I woke up around the same time I always do to fix my loves their tea and breakfast. However, I was met with the tea already made and all four of my lovers making breakfast. I chuckled at the sight of them attempting to make breakfast. They all turned to me and smiled telling me that brekfast was nearly done and to enjoy the tea that was set out. To my surprise, the tea was delicous and was the perfect mixtiure of sweet and bitter, just the way it should be. I complimented the tea and as soon as I did Tengen boasted that he had made it all by himself and to that I, of course, thanked him graciously. Its not everyday that the sound hashira himself makes people tea. Soon enough the food was ready and again it was good and I wondered to myself I they really needed me to cook for them everyday considering they can make such food by themselves. And as if Makio could read my mind, she suddenly patted my back and spoke.
"You dummy, I know that face and your cooking is the best I've ever had. No one can cook like you can and even if you couldn't cook very well, I know damn well that I'd still eat it because I love you." she reassured as she then kissed my cheek and began munching on her food. The others agreed which caused me to feel my cheeks heat with slight embarsessment.
Soon we finished, got dressed, and made our way to town that was beautifully decorated to match the theme. The streets were packed with people all excited for the festival. As the trees were in full bloom as the petals that were blown off were covering the streets like a beautiful multicolored blanket of snow. It was a breathtaking sight and I looked at Hina who was already looking at me with a sickly sweet smile that it felt as though the view of the blossoms no longer mattered as much as her smile. God I felt so lucky.
"Hey, Hey, Hey! Girls lets go over there!" Suma squeled with pure excitement as she grabbed mine and Makio's arm dragging us to a nearby stand. Her eyes sparkled with excitement at all of the things that were for sale. I was even interested in some of them and so was Hina and Makio. Tegnen saw our excitement as he patted us on the head.
"Pick something out you four and I'll get it for ya!" Tengen said smiling at us.
"Are you sure, Lord Tengen?" I asked my generous husband
"Of course my love." he responded pinching my cheek softly.
The four of us all picked out our items as there were a number of ones to choose from I choose a simple yet beautiful hair pin that I thought would compliment my h/t h/c hair. Hina got a scarf, Makio got a ring, and Suma decided to get a cute plush to add to her ever growing collection. Tengen looked at our items and seemed happy with what we decided to get and promptly paid for them thanking the booth owner as he paid. He then walked to me gently grabbing the hair pin.
"My I put this in your hair, Y/n?" He asked in that to-die-for voice he has that made me melt. I nodded my head already flustered by him as he put it in the side of my head. It sat comfortably and I turned to look in the mirror that was provided my the booth owner admirimg my new accessory. I thanked Tengen for the gift as he went to the other three. He than wrapped Hina's scarf around her, placed Makio's ring on her middle finger, and patted the head of Suma's plush. We all blushed and gawked at our husband as he began walking the streets looking at all there was around to see. We followed him as we too admired the sights around us. I decided to walk slightly ahead of him not realizing that I would venture much farther than anticipated. As I wasn't looking out for my surroundings properly and accidentiely bumped into a rather large man who knocked me down into the streets.
"Hey watch where you're going you clumsy bitch!" The man yelled as the woman he was with began laughing at the state I was in.
"I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to." I pleaded with him as tears fell down my now dirty and slightly scratched up face.
"Aww, look what you did!" He yelled looking down at his feet that were now ever so slightly dusted with dirt. It was so slightly there that I had to nearly squint just to see it. Even still, I felt bad.
"I'm so sorry, here I'll find something to clean it with." I said standing up quickly as to find something to clean his shoe with. That same familiar feeling arouse and everything felt foggy once again. I felt my breathing get harder and the same feeling of tightness in my throat began to appear. I knew in my heart that bumping into someone is not the biggest deal, but the way this man was acting make it seem like I was the most vile creature he has ever laid eyes on. The people surrounding us began to whisper and I swear I heard even more people start to laugh. It became too much and too overwhelming. My cries escalated into full blown panic crying. He smirked at this, and I could tell his man was a vile man, just like my father...
"Hey get the fuck away from my wife!" Yelled my husband as he made his way through the tight crowd of people along with my wives. He had a look on his face that I don't think I've ever seem before. Tengen then walked up to the man grabbed him by his clothes, picked him up, and slammed him down on the dirt. And I could swear that Tengen might have broken something. Despite the shock of what just happened, I was still in tears from being overwhelmed and bullied. Hina, Makio, and Suma tried to calm me down by it was like their words were muffled. I heard a few "It's not your fault," "That man is ugly Y/n, don't listen to ugly people like him," and "You're gonna be okay." All of it fell on deaf ears and I felt like this hell was never going to end. Tengen then joined and instead of talking to me, he picked me up and using his speed, began running with me in his arms. Not even a few minutes later we were at our home. I quickly jumped out of his arms and ran to my safe space: my room.
I made a beeline not even stopping when I heard him calling out my name. I needed to be somewhere familair and I needed to be alone. I took off my shoes and jumped in my bed covering myself with my blanked as I curled into a tight ball. I then covered my ears and cried into my pillow trying to make all the world go away. After a few minutes, I heard the soft knocking on my door and a few voices asking if I was okay. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything excpet cry and wish that the world would stop for one second just so I could breathe. The voices died down after a few minutes and I assumed that my lovers gave up trying to persuade me to talk to them. I appreciated that and I think they picked up the fact that the only thing I needed now was to just be alone.
A few hours later...
Opening my eyes and opening the covers, I was met with a sun kissed room and a plate of my favorite food and drink next to my bed. God I felt so awful, not just because I felt physically bad, but because it just dawned on me that I caused a pretty big scene in a public place. And that's something that I've never done before. I felt so heavy with guilt that I wanted to cry all over again, but what good would that do? All I feel like I do is cry. Shit, I just realized that I need to start on dinner. Do they hate me now? Are they angry with me? Did I embaress them? I really don't know right now and there was no use in overthinking as my brain simply couldn't handle all of that right now. So, I did the only thing that I felt was right in that moment. I looked at the plate and began eating the food that was placed out for me. I then got up and refreshed myself and decided that it was best that I try to make it up to them. I don't make a really big meal often, but I decided that it was only right considering all they have had to go through these past few days and honestky since they've met me.
I walked into the kitchen fully prepeared to be met with the stares or constant questions of my lovers. However, It was empty and another note was placed stating that they were called for a mini mission and would be back a little past dinner time. Honestly, I was relievd that they weren't here so that I could surprise them all with their favorite foods. I mean it's only fair considering they took the time to prepare mine. So, I grabbed all of the necessary ingrediengts to make each main dish, side dish, and dessert that they each love. Meaning that I was going to make a shit ton of food, but it would be worth it just for them.
Finally, after a few hours of cooking I was finally done with the meal. I was lucky that my loves hadn't come home yet so that I could set the table too. I quickly ran to the storage room grabbing the spare table so that they could eat in the backyard and enjoy the fresh air. Soon enough, the table was set and the food was placed as neatly as possible. I stood back for a moment and admired my work. I then felt arms wrap around my waist. I yelped in surprise, quickly turning around only to be met with the sweet faces of Makio who quickly hugged me more and I returned it without question. Suma, Hina, and Tengen were also there smiling.
"Damn Y/n, you made whole feast!" Tengen spoke walking towords the table.
"Yeah, please all of you feel free to sit down. I made your favorites." You told all of them as the rest made their way to the table.
"Wow, this is amazing Y/n dear! What's the occasion?" Hina asked as she sat in her seat.
"Well, I just wanted to apologize, but i really wanted to do something your you guys too. Honestly, these last few days have been really hard on me and especially you guys." I spoke
"Y/n, we love you and are you for you." Suma proclaimed with slight ears forming in her beutiful eyes.
"I love you guys too. I just really feel like i have been burdening you guys. I mean look what happened today and yesterday as well as throughout our relationship together. I'm still a lot even though I have gotten better over the years. The harsh words of my parents still haunt me and I'm so sorry for that." I spoke as very thick tears streamed down my face and I menatlly cureed myself for crying again. I huggged myself crying harder now and feeling so gilty for the behavoirs that I've shown recently. Strong arms wrapped sorund my body and I knew exactly who was there.
"Oh my dear, y/n you've never been a burden my love." Tengen spoke softly as I wrapped my arms around him tightly sobbing into his chest. "You are so lovely and so sweet. No one as wonderful as you could ever be a burden. Y/n you came from a shit situation and it was you that left that. You're so incredibly strong and flashy at that. I love you, we all do because you're honestly one of the strongest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Tengen said hugging me tighter. I was still crying, but this time my tears were replaced with happy tears. "Now come on and let's eat." He said in normal tone looking at me with that flashy smile he always has.
"Yeah, lets do that. Only problem is I only made food for you guys, so I'll just sit and drink some tea." I told him a little embressed that I didn't think to make food for myself too. I looked at my wives and they just smiled at me.
"Well, I guess you'll just have to share with me then, love." Tengen suggested as he grabbed my handas we made our way to the table.
"You can have some of mine too!" Suma interjected
"Me too. Y/n there is plenty to share! Thank you for making all of our favorites!" Hina spoke as she began fixing a plate.
"Yeah! I don't mind sharing too!" Makio agreed as she started making a plate too.
"You guys are so sweet!" I exclaimed sitting down in between tengen and Hina. As soon as I sat down she placed a plate of food in front of me and I thanked her for her kindness as she put her hand on my shoulder as I looked up at her.
"Y/n I just wanted to say that Tengen is right, you could never be a burden to us. We all love you and respect you so much. If you ever need any of us, we will be here for you always. I really hope you know that you can rely on us." Hina reassured as she moved he hand to my face stroking my cheek softly before turning away to start making her own plate.
"I agree with Hina Y/n. If you ever need me please don't hesitate to come to me. I'll do my best to be there for you." Makio told me as she too placed food on my plate.
"Yeah, me too Y/n. I love you!" Suma spoke too with a mouth full of food.
"Hey, don't eat yet you dummy." Makio snapped pinching Suma's ear
"Makio, that's mean!" Suma whined softly. I began laughing slightly at their antics. They are so predictable, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
"Makio be nice, please." Hina asked sweetly
"Fine." Makio cutely pouted
"Alright girls, lets eat before this good food gets cold." Tengen said as we all nodded in agreement.
We all began eating but not before giving thanks. It was a wonderful evening and I felt so lucky that I was blessed enough to be around such good people. They would never hurt me and I knew that part of me will always feel bad for mistaking them for bad people, but another part of knew knew that they would never resent me for that. That thought gave me so much comfort and more than anything I knew that I would be safe as long as I had them by my side.
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Thank you so much for reading and thank you to whoever requested this fic! Sorry it took me so long to complete this. 💜
Please feel free to like, comment, request, and reblog.
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•I do NOT own any characters expect y/n and any original characters•
L.W.L
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ugh-yoongi · 1 year
Text
she, by proxy | myg, kth
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(or, the one where yoongi gets what yoongi wants, even when what he wants is taehyung. especially when it's taehyung.)
✤ pairing: yoongi x reader; taehyung x reader; yoongi x taehyung ✤ genre: est. relationship (yoongi x reader), pwp ✤ rating: explicit; minors dni ✤ warnings: a lot of swearing, drinking but no one's drunk, a friend group in which everyone is queer and has fucked at least once probably, taehyung is a messy hoe but yoongi's an entire disaster, pining, open relationships, polyamory that is discussed briefly, i have been told there are some feelings involved. the most important: there is gay stuff in here!!! i repeat, some of this is VERY GAY! please do not read if that isn't your thing! ✤ smut warnings: girls making out, a threesome, dudes kissing, oral sex (m. receiving), anal fingering, vaginal fingering, taegi get pegged, dirty talk, dudes touching themselves a lot, come as lube (but there's also real lube dw), come eating, voyeurism, a lil slapping (thighs/clit), the dom/sub dynamics shift throughout the fic but mainly dom!reader, very mild degradation, a lil begging, taehyung cries, fingers always seem to wind up in mouths, hair pulling, frottage, yoongi accidentally gets edged, praise, protected sex, dp (fingers & piv at the same time). i think that's it :') but let me know if i forgot anything. ✤ word count: 8.3k ✤ credits: thank you to @effortandmore / @the-boy-meets-evil / & @here2bbtstrash for beta'ing this for me. my personal porny fairy godparents. i appreciate you all a whole lot. ✤ author's note: can you believe my degenerate brain dreamed this up and then i wrote all of it in two days in a delirious haze, opened the doc this morning to make final edits, and added almost 2k more. idk who i am anymore. if i missed anything it's bc i finished & edited this during jk's live and i was distracted, to say the least. anyway this is embarrassing i feel like a prude so i'm gonna go hide. pls come scream in my inbox with me unless it's to yell tired shit at me abt writing mxm/pegging/whatever else i warned you this is gay.
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You hadn’t been surprised the first time, and you’re not surprised now, countless times later.
A girl slides into Taehyung’s lap—long hair, bubblegum pink, almost certainly a wig—and his hands immediately go to the small of her back. Large, nearly swallow her up, and they move to rest possessively at her hips, his grip tight as he pulls her closer. Her top is cropped latex and leaves very little to the imagination, which isn’t an issue for you or Yoongi because she’s not what Yoongi’s looking at. His eyes are locked on Taehyung’s hands; locked on the way the tendons flex as he manhandles the faceless girl in his lap, hikes her over one thick thigh.
Ten more seconds of this and all of you will be looking for a new club.
The air is hazy and thick, the floor sticky with god knows what, and Yoongi reaches for you beneath the table. His own large hand finds your smaller one, those knobby knuckles almost uncomfortable when he twines your fingers together. He’s still staring at Taehyung, and you want to do something, say something, it’ll be someone else soon, stop watching, you’re only gonna hurt yourself, but you know him, and you know when he gets like this it’s best to just let him ride it out. Suffer a little.
(Right now, it doesn’t seem like it’ll be tortured as last time, at least—when all of you had gone someplace else, some seedy spot in an Itaewon basement, and Taehyung had some girl pressed against the wall outside the bathrooms, fingers buried deep in her cunt as she shook and came. And Hobi, smarter and sharper than any of you but still so fucking stupid, had just—
“Fuck, man, they’re gonna need a mop and bucket for that. I mean, shit, it was so much? The sound when it hit the floor—”
Jeongguk had pulled a face. Half doe-eyes, half mortified terror. “When what hit the floor, hyung?”
“Her fucking squirt, Jeonggukie, what the fuck do you think—”
And Namjoon, just as wide-eyed and terrified as Jeongguk but for an entirely different reason, had laughed awkwardly and said, “Haaa, maybe we should talk about something else?” as he looked between Hoseok and Yoongi.
That night had been shit-tier, nearly unsalvageable, so at least it doesn’t seem like Taehyung’s in that kind of mood. At least the girl in his lap still has her clothes on. At least his hands are someplace you can see them. At least Yoongi’s still beside you.)
So you bide your time. Take stock of who’s still here and where they are, because the girl in Taehyung’s lap has her lips on his neck and things might go south faster than you’d originally anticipated. Hoseok and Jimin are on the dance floor, hips doing something sinful and too much; Namjoon’s at the bar, jaw clenched as the bartender passes him over for the fourth time in a row; Soyeon and Hyungseo are in the other side of your booth, tongues sloppy as they kiss just because they feel like it; Jeongguk, shoved in the corner on Yoongi’s other side, is slack-jawed as he stares at them, and Jeongguk is a fucking pervert so you know he’s hard.
“Put your dick back in your pants, Jeonggukie,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the music. The bass is heavy as it drops, feels like it’s thrumming through your veins, and Jeongguk startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table in his panic, and Soyeon and Hyungseo don’t bother breaking apart to look. “You want another drink?” you ask Yoongi, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
He shakes his head, finally drags his attention away from Taehyung. There’s someone new in his lap: chin-length silver hair, thin legs that go on for miles, tan skin covered in boldly-colored tattoos, could be anyone. Yoongi isn’t looking anymore, but you are, so you catch it when Taehyung looks up. Looks right at Yoongi, wants to see if he’s watching, but instead he just finds you. “Gonna go smoke,” Yoongi answers, and you slide out of the booth to let him leave.
“Is hyung okay?” Jeongguk asks when the two of you are pressed back together. He sips leisurely at his drink, trying to make it last until Namjoon makes it back from the bar with another one. Something baby blue and shockingly green, a little umbrella on top. Two cherries. “He seems sad. Hey, watch this.” Jeongguk pops one into his mouth and presents the knotted stem to you seconds later.
This is the part you never know how to explain: that Yoongi loves you but sometimes he wants someone else. Not instead, but too. That you love Yoongi and want him to have whatever he wants, and that jealousy is foreign to you. That you and Yoongi love each other but do things a little unorthodox, which is not out of the ordinary for a friend group as ran-through and commingled as yours, but still takes patience and care to explain.
So you just ruffle Jeongguk’s hair, laugh at his squawking protests, and wrangle him so you can press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t worry this pretty little head about your hyungs, okay?”
Jeongguk surfaces with a glare, surface-level because you’ve embarrassed him in front of two hot girls that are still making out, and hides his flushed cheeks behind his drink. “Is it about Taehyungie-hyung?”
“What’d I just tell you?”
He pouts, but you’re saved from another interrogation by Namjoon’s unceremonious return to the table. He’s so flustered by his one-sided feud with the bartender that he slams the blue-green drink down a little too hard, spills half of it in Jeongguk’s lap. “Move over,” he says to you, and you cock an eyebrow in return. “Please,” he amends, like that’s what you’d been looking for, but when you still don’t move he gets a little whiny and panicked. “They’re relentless,” he says, pointing his thumb at Soyeon and Hyungseo like you can’t see them. “Don’t make me—”
“What about me!” Jeongguk wails, pressing his hands pathetically to his groin like he’s trying to stem bleeding, at the same time you roll your eyes and fire a, “Says Mr. Eight-gigabyte Porn Folder,” at Namjoon.
You receive another glare, this time from Namjoon, and he doesn’t hesitate to steal Jeongguk’s spot against the wall when he goes to the bathroom to deal with his soaked pants, only to start swearing when he realizes the seat is wet, too. “Jesus fuck—”
“That’s what you get.”
“Fuck off,” Namjoon fires back. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”
“Outside smoking.”
“Smok—why is he smoking?” At your silence, he jerks his head up, intent on getting an answer out of you. Instead, his question dies on his tongue as he follows your line of sight. Another new person in Taehyung’s lap, sucking Taehyung’s fingers into their mouth. “Ah, yeah. That fucking guy.”
You can’t help but laugh. “Be nice, Namjoonie. You know Taehyung would hook up with a microwave if it gave him attention.”
“What number is that, then? Hasn’t he gotten enough attention?”
“Third I’ve seen. The first one was cute. I thought for sure he was gonna leave with her.”
Namjoon huffs, shakes his head. Takes a long pull of his beer. “He’s not gonna leave with anyone. He just does this to piss off hyung.” Then, like he’s coming to a realization, he turns to look at you with a quizzical look. “Wait, where’d Seokjin-hyung go?”
You stare back in disbelief. “How long were you at the fucking bar? He left hours ago.”
“Did he?” Then, quieter and to himself, “How long was I at the fucking bar?”
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Whatever game Taehyung is playing, Yoongi is woefully inept at playing along.
Doesn’t know when it’s his move or when it’s time to sit and watch. Doesn’t know the rules. Doesn’t really listen when you try to explain it to him; probably doesn't want to hear it. Yoongi seems to think he’s at his best when he’s a little sad, a little miserable and yearning. At its core, that’s what the game is, and as much as he keeps touching the thorns to see if he’ll bleed, you know he still enjoys it.
(Know he gets off on it, too.)
Yoongi reaches for you. Steadies himself with his hand on your shoulder, pupils wide as saucers—dark dark dark in the corner of this grimy club—eventually breaking into a smile when you grab his sweat-slick hands and guide them to your waist. Your bodies move together like waves, pushing apart only for Yoongi to continuously pull you in closer, dazed from the feeling of you pressed against him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, words impossible to hear over the music, “look at you. So fucking pretty.”
He threads a knee between your legs, the sound of his groan drowned out as you roll your hips against him. Maybe Yoongi doesn’t know the rules to this game, but you do, and you make sure Taehyung’s watching when you drag your core against Yoongi’s thigh. He groans again, and his hands grip your hips tighter, moving you back and forth on him the way he does when you ride him.
You watch as he drags his eyes upward, see the exact moment he spots Taehyung across the club. His profile is lit up by the strobe lights, filling in the contours of his bone structure with greens and blues. He’s with Jimin and Hoseok now, dancing with the girl from earlier with the pink hair, her back pressed to his chest. He leans down and whispers recycled filth into her ear that she seems to buy. You watch as Yoongi closes his eyes tight; watch him pretend it’s Taehyung dancing with him; it’s Taehyung’s hips he’s gripping onto; it’s Taehyung who’s moaning and desperate for him in this moment.
You watch as his eyes snap open again.
You watch as he realizes he’s in this daydream alone.
And you wonder, briefly, if this should bother you. If this is fucked up, that Yoongi’s hard against you because he’s thinking about someone else, and you find that you don’t care. What you and Yoongi have doesn’t need to make sense to anyone except the two of you.
“Wanna go home,” Yoongi slurs into your ear, fucked up from the feel of you, the thought of Taehyung.
You smirk, tangle your hands in his hair and tug a little just to fuck him up even more. “Yeah? What d’you wanna go home for? It’s still pretty early.”
“Wanna fuck you,” he whines. Tries to hold you in place to grind harder against you and whines again when you move just out of reach. “Baby.”
“You know the rule.” There’s a drop of sweat that rolls down the side of Yoongi’s neck that you chase with your tongue. “Tell me what you actually want and we can leave.”
The breath he sucks in is harsh, fractured, like your question is a special kind of torture. You know it is. Unlike with Taehyung, this is a game both you and Yoongi know the rules to. Unlike with Taehyung, this is the game Yoongi plays to win. The song changes again, this time to something filthy and slow, and Yoongi fits himself to your back, moves until both of you are facing Taehyung. “Want you both,” he says into your ear. Nips at the lobe. “Want to watch you fuck him the way you fuck me.”
“Don’t wanna fuck him yourself?”
You feel him shake his head. “Not this time.”
“What are you doing, then? In this fantasy of yours?”
Yoongi presses closer, the outline of his hard cock pressing into the small of your back now. “Watching, at first. Wanna see you ruin him.” His hands skim along your skin, dip beneath the hemline of your shirt, dance across your stomach. “Wanna watch you make him fucking cry.”
“Are you telling me how?”
Yoongi’s laugh is low, a little caustic. “I won’t need to. He’s so fuckin’ easy.”
“And yet you want him this bad,” you taunt. “Someone easy like that—doesn’t seem to be your type.”
He bites along your neck. “Watch yourself.”
“I’m not the one all fucked up over Kim Taehyung.” You make eye contact with the man in question. Watch as the look on his face fades into a smirk, syrupy and slow. Sleezy, you think. He probably is as easy as Yoongi says. “I should tell him how fucking hard you are. Should tell him you’re gonna take me home and fuck me and come thinking about him. That’s pretty fuckin’ dirty, Yoongi.”
It’s nothing you haven’t said before. Sometimes you press even harder, humiliate him a little when he seems to be in the mood for it, but this time he goes stock-still. Silence stretches between the two of you, the only people standing still on this dancefloor, and you’re halfway turned around to see if Yoongi wants to fuck or cry when he says, “Do it, then.”
You laugh. All part of the game. But then Yoongi grabs your hand, moves it to his cock, straining against his skin-tight jeans, some kind of message that’s gotten fucked up in translation. “Yoongi—”
“Tell him,” he says, expression shuttered and serious.
“You wanna think about this for more than ten seconds? You haven’t talked to him since the last time you guys hooked up and you want me to go tell him you… what? That you want to have some weird cuck threesome with him?”
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That’s exactly what you told him.
(Because you know Yoongi, and you also know Taehyung. Your dig at him to Namjoon was very much based in truth, and with how fucked up the dynamics of your friend group are, it hadn’t taken much more than sending Yoongi out into the cold to order a taxi, swaying your hips a little, re-glossing your lips, and disposing of the girl with the bubblegum pink hair. No one had batted an eye.
“I’m going home to fuck my boyfriend,” you said, leaning into Taehyung’s space. He was draped on the couch again, legs spread in a way that was frankly obscene. “Would you like to join us?”
“That depends, angel. How do you fuck him?” he asked, spreading his legs wider.
You stepped closer. Cupped his cheek, dug your nails into his skin a little, and said, “Better than you ever did,” all condescension.
Taehyung had just laughed. Pressed his tongue into the fat of his cheek. “I guess we’ll see about that.”)
And now you’re here, Taehyung sprawled on the bed beneath you. You can see why a sight like this would have Yoongi fucked up as long as he has been: Taehyung’s golden skin contrasting against the crisp white of the sheets, dark hair fanning against the pillows, curls falling into his eyes, chest heaving. Each time he throws his head back you’re torn between sinking your teeth into the column of his throat and wrapping your hands around it. It’s easy to ruin him when he looks like this; easy to give Yoongi what he wants.
“What should I do with you?” you think out loud, and Taehyung’s responding whimper draws a laugh out of you. “Yoongi wants to watch me fuck you,” you continue, hands teasing toward the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. You pinch, slap away the sting. “Would you like that?”
Taehyung’s cock—long and thick, still glistening with spit from when you sucked him off—twitches at the thought. “Y-yeah, fuck, want that,” he answers, hands moving to fist the sheets. He’s been so good. Has done exactly as you said. “Wan’ you to fuck me.”
“Should I fuck you the way you used to fuck your hyung?” Both Taehyung and Yoongi moan at the same time, and it’s so stupid, you think, this game they’ve been playing. Cat and mouse, as if the conclusion hasn’t been inevitable this whole time. “Use your words, Taehyung.”
“Yeah,” he says again, Adam’s apple bobbing heavily in his throat. “Y-yeah, like that.”
You hum, reach behind you for the bottle of lube. Yoongi mutters a quiet shit from the other side of the room and you glance over. Mouth hung open, lips wet; jeans pushed halfway down his thighs, the outline of his cock visible through his briefs, hand squeezing at the base. Cheating a little, but still not touching himself the way you know he wants to. He’ll be the first to cry, at this rate.
Eyes back on Taehyung. You wonder if he’d normally preen, put on a show. You wonder if he did that with Yoongi, some whole thing. “He’s told me about it, you know,” you say, clicking the lube open. Sounds more like a gunshot in the small space of your bedroom, where the only other sounds are labored breathing and the city outside. “Told me all about how you used to split him open with that big cock.” You tip the bottle sideways, let the lube dribble out and over Taehyung’s balls. He hisses at the cold, mutters a swear. “Told me he’d struggle to take it sometimes.”
“You two are—fuck.” Whatever Taehyung was going to say is cut off as your finger follows the lube, trails down to his hole. You circle it there, make sure it’s wet, press a little just to watch his hips jerk. “You two are fu-fucking weird.”
“Mm, maybe,” you concede, “but you should see how hard he comes when he’s thinking about you.”
You gather more lube on your finger, then, and press it inside. Just to the first knuckle, just enough to make Taehyung whine. “I guess you already know that, though,” you continue. Pour a little more lube on Taehyung’s skin. Pull your finger out enough to slicken it, push it back in a little further. “Was it good for you?”
His moan is broken and low, deep and heady. A sound that makes the world feel like it’s tilting; a sound that makes you want to chase it. “Yeah,” Taehyung answers, and it could be a response or a declaration when it’s followed by, “so fucking good.”
“Yoongi is good, isn’t he? He listens so well.” With your free hand, you grab Taehyung’s face roughly, turn his head in the direction of where Yoongi’s sitting. “Look at him,” you instruct. He already looks fucked-out. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, knuckles white where he’s gripping onto the arm of the chair. “Look at how good he’s being, not even touching himself.”
And Taehyung… Taehyung almost looks ashamed. Won’t meet Yoongi’s gaze, now that they’re so close, now that it’s real, and this won’t do, will it, so you dig your nails in a little harder, drag them down his cheek, tell him again to look at his hyung. Then—
For the first time all night, their eyes meet at the same time.
Yoongi’s whimper is loud. The loudest you’ve ever heard him outside of actual sex. You work in a second finger alongside the first, build up a steady rhythm, and Taehyung isn’t faring much better. Little by little he opens up for you and you’re thankful for the way he sucks you in, adjusts. It’s getting harder to ignore the heat between your own legs, watching two beautiful men fall apart in vastly different ways, even though you want to drag this out, want to make Taehyung cry and give Yoongi exactly what he wanted.
And, god, Taehyung is so fucking pretty.
You tell him as much, and his smile is greasy, looks even more lewd when you crook your fingers and his eyes roll back. He’s still tight around you when he asks for a third so you shake your head, tell him no, tell him he’s greedy, and you think people must not make him beg much, the way he’s pouting. Taehyung has a face that gets him whatever he wants and a cock to match, and you’d understood it before, why Yoongi couldn’t really let it go, but it’s different when it’s right in front of you, making a mess of your sheets.
“I must be going soft on you,” you tell him, working in another finger the next time he asks. “Yoongi wanted me to make you cry and here I am, giving you whatever you want. Maybe I should let him decide what you get.”
Taehyung shoots a hand out, grabs at your forearm. “Don’t,” he says, voice hoarse, bordering on pleading. “Please. He’s still mad at me, won’ give me anything.”
A huff of breath escapes you. “He doesn’t look very mad to me. Looks like he could probably come on command if you told him to.” It’s not an exaggeration, not really; Yoongi is gone, looks like a stiff wind could have him spilling all over himself. “But maybe that’s what you deserve.”
You nail Taehyung’s prostate the next time you crook your fingers and he sobs. You do it again, then a third time. Precome oozes out of his cock, deepens the pool on his belly. You keep it up until tears pool on his waterline, until he’s reaching for you again, begging you to stop, words cracking as he tells you desperately that he’s going to come. “Angel, fuck, please, I’m gonna—”
“No, you’re not,” you tell him, all authority. “You’re not going to come, are you, because I haven’t told you to. Yoongi hasn’t told you to.”
The first frustrated tear streaks down Taehyung’s cheek. “Oh my fucking god,” he chokes out, forcing his hips flat to the bed, tries to force you to stop moving. But your rhythm is steady, confident, three fingers working with the space he’s left you, and it isn’t until you watch his balls tighten that they slow. Taehyung’s sweat-slick, looks even more golden under the amber lamplight, and it’s dizzying, the way the color shifts as his chest heaves with his ragged breaths.
There’s only enough time for you to slip your fingers out, grab the lube, slick up the strap-on that’s fastened around your hips, before you’re pressing the head against Taehyung’s hole, still dripping wet. “It’s so big,” you muse, grinning wickedly at the man beneath you, “I don’t know if it’s going to fit. What do you think, Yoongi? Is this how you used to feel?”
When you look over this time, Yoongi has his cock out, briefs tucked beneath his balls, stroking fast. Clicking your tongue, he looks up through half-lidded eyes, hand stilling immediately. His nod is almost imperceptible, too disoriented to answer, and you’ll give him this one. Won’t push it. What you will push, though—
“Shit.”
You’re not sure if it comes from Yoongi or Taehyung. It might’ve even come from you, because you’re transfixed, can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your stupid flesh-colored dildo disappearing into Taehyung’s body. Fucking greedy, you think, mostly at yourself, because if this sight is good you can only imagine what you’d see if you were watching his face. Brows furrowed, mouth pinched. A look not far off from that night in the club, the determination on his face as he fucked that girl with his fingers, uncaring who heard or saw.
But this is your show. Yoongi’s fantasy. Whatever girls—people—Taehyung has fucked in seedy clubs across Seoul are of little importance here. All that matters is the steady push of your hips, the slow roll once you’re fully buried, the pleasure that jolts through you when you’re able to grind a little against the toy, the way Taehyung thrashes against the sheets, incoherent as he babbles, stuck between more and too much.
“Okay?” you ask, hands skimming along his warm skin. Goosebumps trail in their wake, and you settle them on his thighs. Press them up and to the side as he nods, giving yourself more space, and Taehyung’s moan is loud, unabashed. His cock lies neglected against his stomach, begging you to reach out and grab it, stroke him, make him come too fast so you have another bruise to press on, some way to embarrass him.
But this is your show, Yoongi’s fantasy, and you don’t have to look because you can hear how close your boyfriend is to getting himself off. Can hear the way his breath hitches, can hear when his rhythm changes. Quicker, now. More insistent. If Taehyung looked over at him, it’d be all over, and you almost tell him to do that, too.
“Stop touching yourself,” you say to Yoongi. A second time when he disregards the first, too far gone, too close. “Yoongi.” He whines but he listens, shoves his fingers in his mouth to stem the urge, and Taehyung watches it all.
You’re still thrusting, thighs burning, sticky where they meet Taehyung’s, and it won’t be your lengthiest performance, that’s for sure. So you call Yoongi’s name again, beckon him over, and he hesitates, looks so unsure. But it’s so stupid, the way he and Taehyung dance around one another—and you know, you know Taehyung wouldn’t be shaking like this if it were just you, if Yoongi wasn’t in his head, wasn’t watching—so you’re insistent. “Come here,” you tell him, and you make sure your voice is spun sugar when you say it.
Yoongi listens. Stumbles over on unsteady legs, knees nearly buckling when he gets close enough to also watch the way the strap-on fucks into Taehyung’s hole, the way it stretches obscenely to accommodate it. “Baby.” He threads his hands into your hair and kisses you hard and messy. Taehyung moans beneath you so you know he’s watching, and you will your body to move faster, fuck him harder.
When Yoongi pulls back, it’s obvious. The longing in his eyes. “Tell him,” you say, and he looks caught-out, would almost look angry if he were capable of it. “This is your fantasy, isn’t it? So tell him.”
“I—” He looks down at Taehyung again, meets his gaze again, and he must see something there you can’t, because all the hesitation is gone when he says, “I want to kiss you.”
And you know what it means.
Because that had been the rule between the two of them. No staying the night, no kissing. You know what it means for Yoongi to ask for that, what it’d mean if Taehyung allowed it, and it nearly cracks your heart in half that it’s the only thing he’s willing to ask for when his wants are endless when it comes to Taehyung.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung moans. “Fuck, hyung, yeah—yeah, c’mere, kiss me, please, fuck.”
Yoongi looks like he’s been punched in the gut. Looks overwhelmed, given this kind of permission, so he goes about it all wrong. Starts to kneel at the side of the bed before you tsk and grab him by his own hair. “Do it right,” you instruct.
He moans. Aborts whatever he was about to do and climbs over Taehyung on the bed, straddles him, fitting in between both of you perfectly, close enough for his cock to slot against Taehyung’s. They both moan, and their game had been so fucking stupid it sends a lick of anger through you. Yoongi ruts his hips once, twice, and then he’s leaning down and cupping Taehyung’s face and pressing his lips—still wet from you, still wearing your spit—to Taehyung’s.
And Taehyung comes immediately, nearly untouched. Spills all over himself with a loud, broken sob.
“Holy shit,” you say, hips slowing until they’re still. “Holy shit, that was fucking hot, what the fuck.”
Taehyung trembles in the comedown and Yoongi presses in closer, kisses him through it. Can’t seem to stop now that he’s allowed. He’s still rutting, has Taehyung teetering on oversensitivity, so you grab Yoongi’s hips to slow him. “Careful, baby,” you say softly into his ear. Press a kiss to the nape of his neck. Give him a minute to back away from the ledge again and get himself under control, let Taehyung catch his breath. “Are you okay, Taehyung?” you ask, hands once again touching any of his skin you can find. You knead at the muscles in his calves.
There’s some garbled response. Something you think is supposed to sound like an affirmation. “Words, please.”
“Y-yeah,” comes his response.
“Okay. I’m gonna go grab something to clean you up, all right?” You press another kiss to Yoongi’s shoulder, turn your attention to him. “Then we’ll finally give you what you want, yeah? Finally let you come.” A shiver runs up his spine and he nods weakly. “Can you prep yourself while I’m gone?” Another shaky nod. “Good boy. Gonna pull out now, Tae.”
You do so slowly. Taehyung hisses, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Hisses again when you replace the toy with your thumb, try to ease the discomfort of being so suddenly empty. With another kiss pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, you mumble an I love you into his hair, and then you’re gone.
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There’s always been something about the way Yoongi touches himself.
Like the goal is more than simply getting off. Like there’s reverence in it, something beyond purpose. Yoongi touches himself the way other people drop to their knees at church and pray.
Sometimes it’s long and drawn out. Sometimes his hands skirt over every inch of his own skin before he finally brings them to his cock. Sometimes he rests on his haunches in the middle of the bed and angles himself toward the mirror and watches, his cheeks aflame the entire time because he’s embarrassed to see himself like that, three of his own fingers fucking himself, but the embarrassment almost feels just as good. Sometimes he has you beneath him, raining down praise as his fist works the length of his cock.
Sometimes he does it entirely wrong, like now.
Two pale, lube-slick fingers work in and out of his hole. His own, then, and not Taehyung’s. Just like you’d asked. You’re a little surprised, thought maybe Yoongi might panic and retreat with you gone, but they’re both where you’d left them. Taehyung’s talking all the while, saying god knows what in that deep timbre, and it’s straight up pornographic the way his large hands rest on the cheeks of Yoongi’s ass, pull them apart.
The damp cloth in your hand feels useless. Is useless, you think, because Yoongi had told you something, once, deep in the throes of another cerebral fantasy—
“I can’t believe I have to keep telling you this,” you say, and everything immediately goes still at the sound of your voice, “but do it right, Yoongi.”
Taehyung lifts his head, stares at you skeptically. Probably mirroring the look on Yoongi’s face that you aren’t privy to with his back to you. “We’ve talked about this,” you continue, stalking closer. All eyes on you as you drop the cloth to the floor. “Are you clean?” you ask Taehyung, and he nods, expression still dubious.
And then you’re reaching between both of them, swiping your fingers through the mess of cum on Taehyung’s stomach, and he understands immediately. “Are you gon—fuuuck. Fucking christ.” The first swipe goes to Yoongi’s mouth, and there’s no hesitation as he sucks your fingers clean. Your free hand finds Yoongi’s, the one he’s working himself open with, and pulls it away. Replaces it with your own, your two longest fingers covered in the second swipe of Taehyung’s cum, and you fuck them in and out faster than Yoongi had been.
“Filthy,” Taehyung chokes out, clearly overwhelmed; another groan when Yoongi starts sucking at his neck, biting, claiming.
It’s primal, the way Taehyung reacts, the way Yoongi embeds himself under his skin, tries desperately to make a home there. Something permanent this time; or, at least, a home that won’t burn down like the last one. Won’t be reduced to a smoking heap of bitter ash. And you wonder, as you watch the way these two beautiful men fit together, if Taehyung will be holding the match or the key this time.
You press slow, open-mouthed kisses along the knots in Yoongi’s spine. Drizzle more lube on your fingers, work him open more. Whisper I know, baby, I know when he gets impatient and a little too demanding. Swap the condom on the strap-on and slick it up, just like last time, and then you’re pressing into Yoongi instead of Taehyung, the way you’ve done so many times before.
Everything is familiar and different: the drag, the pull, the noises spilling out of Yoongi’s mouth. Those staccato whines varied in pitch, sometimes drawn out and sometimes punched and short. This is what you know. This is your home, and you think, as Taehyung looks at Yoongi, so fucking endeared, as he gently cups his face, as he says—
“Hyung, you look so pretty. You’re doing so well, hyung, fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever see you like this again.”
—you think your house might look nice with an addition. An extra space carved out only for Taehyung. A room where Yoongi can exist in endless adoration.
“Make yourself useful, Kim Taehyung.”
Because Taehyung listens. Because Taehyung is good in all the ways that Yoongi is good, and he doesn’t have to be told twice when the order deals in Yoongi’s pleasure. So all of you adjust until Yoongi’s on his hands and knees, gripping tightly onto the headboard, and Taehyung shuffles down the bed until he can get his mouth on Yoongi’s cock.
“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” you say, and Taehyung moans at the praise, the vibrations making Yoongi gasp and jerk.
You know when you hit his prostate, too; know this is going to be over soon from the way he buries his face in the crook of his elbow and screams. You know it from the way he starts to shake. From the unintelligible filth that pours from his mouth as Taehyung swallows him all the way down. From the way he stutters out a, ba-baby, wha’bout you, gonna come like this, and you pet his hair, voice soft again when you say, this is for you, Yoongi, you can come, I know it’s so much.
There’s a final husky, drawn-out moan, and then there’s quiet.
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Lucidity returns slowly.
The heat kicks on. A police siren wails in the distance, seven floors below you. You re-wet your cloth and do your best to clean the dried cum from Taehyung’s skin, your smile fond as he whines at the cold, tries to squirm away. Yoongi doesn’t move an inch, just collapses face-first onto the mattress and lets everyone fuss over him. Starts snoring a few minutes later, after you’ve pulled the duvet up to his ears and he’s tucked in and warm.
You move to the dresser. Pull out two t-shirts—oversized on you, tight in the shoulders on Taehyung—and clean underwear. And then you pause, because Taehyung’s already plucking his own clothes off the floor, already has his fucking socks and briefs on, and it’s… it doesn’t feel right, is the thing. Doesn’t feel like he should be leaving. Not tonight, maybe ever.
“Where are you going?” you ask, and you do a good job of keeping the hurt out, at sounding normal.
Taehyung doesn’t get it. Looks at you like you’re a little stupid and a lot crazy, because he looks at you, then at the world outside the window, and finally at Yoongi before answering. “I—leaving?”
“Why?”
Taehyung looks at you like you’re a lot stupid this time. “I don’t…” Pauses. Tries to sink into the floor to no avail. “Look, I think maybe this was a mistake? Hyung and I—I don’t think this is what he wants.”
“And how do you know what he wants?”
“Because we’re here,” he answers, anger seeping in. “Because I’m standing in your apartment. His girlfriend, and—”
You sigh. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you, but I think it’d really hurt him if you left.” You leave off the again. It’s not your trauma to dredge up. Yoongi wouldn’t want you to, and that’s reason enough. “I would like it if you stayed, if that means anything.”
“The two of you are fucking weird,” he says again, but he looks less torn. Looks less like he would plow you over to get to the door, and it’s… progress. It’s good. You can work with a halfway thing. “Hyung would really—you think he wants me here?”
It’s spoken about in the way a broken thing always is: delicately, hesitantly, like Taehyung’s afraid of the answer, afraid to find out the results of this stupid game of his own design. “He does. It’s not my place to say much more than that, but I think the two of you are overdue for a conversation, if nothing else.”
Taehyung nods. Starts looking less and less like he’s out of place; starts looking like object permanence, takes a corporeal form within the four walls of your bedroom. “There’s space here for you,” you say, with the amount of care words like these require, “if you want it.”
“What does that mean?”
“Whatever you want it to. Nothing has to be decided right now, but I know Yoongi. You know him, too. I just don’t want to see him hurt again.”
Taehyung nods again. Peels his socks off. “You’re sure?” he asks, and when you nod, he climbs back into bed, seems to somehow know which side of the bed is Yoongi’s, two magnets drawn together. Something inevitable.
You breathe out a sigh. Finally slip the t-shirt and underwear on. Flick the lamp off and let yourself have a minute to enjoy the calm, Yoongi’s body heat next to you, still snoring softly between you and Taehyung. And then, because you can’t resist—
“You two are really fucking stupid, you know that?”
You hear Taehyung swallow. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sounding the part of a scolded child, and as much as you try not to, you’re smiling again, fond and endeared, into the dark. “I know.”
“Okay. Go to sleep, Tae. I expect a very nice thank you gift in the morning.”
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It doesn’t happen in the morning. Not really.
It happens sometime in the middle of the night. The light streaming in through the sheer curtains gives away nothing more than silver-amber light, the moon and the city. Could be minutes since you fell asleep, could be hours; all you know is Yoongi’s at your back, arm slung possessively over your middle, and his heat is stifling.
“Yoongi,” you hiss, because it’s not just his heat. He’s hard again, cock pressing against the swell of your ass just like it was in the club, and you feel him smile against your neck when he realizes you’re awake. Feel him rock his hips, just a little.
He nips at your lobe, your jaw. “Hi, baby,” he says, like this is just another morning. Like he’s about to present your favorite mug to you, coffee fixed exactly how you like it. “Why didn’ you wake me up?”
“For what?” you breathe out, voice already wavering. All Yoongi has done is skim his warm hands under your oversized t-shirt, swirl a finger around your navel.
Yoongi tuts. Feels weird to be on this side of it, the illusion of condescension. “To fuck you. Make you come. You didn’t earlier.”
“I meant what I said—”
“I know you did,” Yoongi interjects, “but I don’t find that to be a very acceptable excuse.”
You roll your eyes, no heat in it, but then Yoongi’s hand moves to the hem of your underwear and slips inside. Your hips jerk when he moves two fingers lightly over your clit, jerk again when he finds you already wet and groans deep and husky into your ear. And it’s not loud, but it’s loud for this room at whatever-the-fuck time it is. “Gotta be quiet,” you whisper to him, and he laughs, thinks you’re joking. “I’m serious,” you say, and you want to sound authoritative but it comes out as a whine when he sinks those fingers into your cunt.
“Why would I need to be quiet?” he asks. Crooks them as best he can from this weird angle, you on your side with your back pressed to him, Yoongi halfway on top of you. “Shouldn’t I be loud?” He hits a spot that whites your vision. “Shouldn’t everyone in this fucking place hear it?”
Usually you wouldn’t care. Your apartment building has heard worse, including whatever debauchery the three of you had gotten up to mere hours ago, but—“Taehyung’s asleep.”
Yoongi startles, goes still. “What?”
“What.”
“What d’you mean Taehyung’s asl…” You feel him turn. Feel him realize, for the first time, that there is a very-asleep Taehyung on his other side, and you want to ask how he hadn’t noticed before, want to say didn’t you realize how cramped this bed is, it’s not big enough for three people, we’ll have to get a new one, but. Yoongi hadn’t expected him to stay, hadn’t expected it to even be an option, so of course it would’ve been a blind spot.
Your heart cracks in half again.
“What’d you say to him?” he asks. Not accusing, almost awed, like you knew a code, the secret passcode to getting Taehyung to stay that Yoongi hadn’t had before.
You reach back, find Yoongi’s hair. Scratch gently at his scalp. “Just that I thought you’d like it if he stayed. That’s it, nothing else. I wouldn’t.”
“I know, I wasn’t…” He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, lets it go. He’s okay. “This is okay with you?”
A laugh spills out of you. “You’re asking me that now? I was nearly fist-deep in his ass a few hours ago but him sleeping in our bed is crossing some kind of line?”
“Sex can be different,” Yoongi argues, “and it’s me, you know, like it’s my hangup, not yours—”
“I want you to be happy,” you answer honestly. “Whatever that looks like. I told him there’s room for him here if he wants it, but they’re not my knots to untangle. If he wants to stick around, if you two can get your shit together… we’ll figure it out. It only needs to make sense to us.”
Silence. Then—“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my fucking life,” Yoongi groans. “Jesus Christ.”
“I should’ve known hyung was the type to get a boner from open and honest communication.”
Yoongi startles again at the low rasp of Taehyung’s voice. “And that’s exactly why I said I fuck him better than you,” you fire at him, deadpan. He laughs. You don’t have to look at Yoongi to know how red he’s turned.
“You said that to him?” he chokes out, all mortified disbelief, at the same time Taehyung says, “Maybe you’ve got a point, angel.”
The mattress sinks under Taehyung’s weight as he shuffles closer to the two of you. Must touch Yoongi somehow, because there’s a high-pitched whine from the back of his throat, so loud in your ear, has heat coursing through you. “Finish what you started, hyung,” Taehyung says, and Yoongi’s nod is jerky, his hands uncoordinated under Taehyung’s watchful stare.
Yoongi moves over you fully, wastes no time before he’s working his fingers in and out at a steady rhythm, sucking at your skin. Taehyung groans quietly, doesn’t need to be told a goddamn thing; rids you of your shirt so Yoongi can mouth his way from your jaw to your neck, collarbones to chest, one nipple and then the next. Pleasure licks up your spine, outweighs how overwhelming it is to have Yoongi this geared-up, wound this tight; to have Taehyung’s hands roaming over every inch of skin his hyung doesn’t have his mouth on.
“Yoo-Yoongi,” you choke out, because this has really gone from zero to a hundred and he’s been pressing incessantly on your g-spot for too long to remain unaffected.
It’s building, building, building, and you’ve fully lost control of your hips, grinding against the heel of Yoongi’s palm like you’re desperate for it. (You are.) And Taehyung just laughs darkly, says, “Think she’s gonna come, hyung,” just to get under your skin.
“Mm, yeah. Might make a mess.” He slaps at your clit and that’s it, that’s what does it.
And Yoongi knows you, doesn’t he, because he knows how you like to get fucked. Knows to click his tongue at you, give you that disappointed look; knows to wipe your release on your thighs. Knows to barely let you catch your breath before he’s slipping on a condom and pushing inside of you.
After his fingers, the stretch from his cock feels dizzying. Feels on the edge of too much, and Taehyung’s commentary is doing fuck-all to help you come back to earth. Keeps saying shit like goddamn, hyung, yeah, fuck her like that. Maneuvers you so your back is pressed to his chest, now, your head on his shoulder, so Yoongi can slip his tongue into Taehyung’s mouth while he ruins you. It’s filthy, it’s so fucking filthy, and you think, selfishly, that a room won’t be big enough. You’d build Taehyung an entire goddamn house to keep it like this, to keep the three of you safe in this bubble.
“Imagine, hyung,” Taehyung starts, and you know what comes out of his mouth next is going to be nasty. Yoongi knows it, too, eyes starting to go glassy. A million constellations reflected as he looks at the two of you. “If we fucked her at the same time. Both of us in that tight pussy. Our cocks togeth—”
You’re not sure if the deafening moan comes from you or Yoongi. Either way, his hips falter, cadence reduced to stuttered thrusts as he tries desperately not to come just from Taehyung spewing more filth out of his devilish mouth. But you want to see it. Want to see what happens when he’s pushed to the brink of horny delirium, so you say—
“Do it.”
—and Yoongi has to stop altogether. Grips your hips so hard you know they’ll bruise, and you think, for a second, that he actually did come. Everything is quiet for a second, just more labored breathing, and then Yoongi picks his head up. Looks more fucked-out than you’ve ever seen him, even more than earlier, and looks straight at Taehyung.
“Put your fingers in her.”
Taehyung breathes harshly through his nose. Waits for you to nod, give him the okay, and then his hands leave your hair and skim down your body. They’re so warm, so large, cover so much skin that it truly feels like he’s everywhere, like it’s more than just him touching you. The closer he nears to your cunt, the more overpowering it is, the harder it is to breathe.
“Is this what you want, angel?” he asks, words warm on your skin as he presses them just below your ear. “You’re a greedy girl, getting hyung’s cock and my fingers.” He rubs circles into your clit, sends you spiraling. You’re dangerously close to a second orgasm (could be a third, could be a hundredth, considering Yoongi never let you come down from the first) and there’s a split-second right before he dips his fingers into your cunt, works them in alongside Yoongi’s cock, that you feel engulfed.
Everything is on fire.
You, most of all.
Taehyung sucks his fingers into his mouth, gets ‘em wet, works in slowly. Just his middle finger at first, and Yoongi falters again, moans out an oh fuuuck that betrays exactly how far gone he is. And you aren’t far behind, the stretch from both of them unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You can’t imagine how it’d feel if it was more than just Taehyung’s fingers, except you can, and Taehyung notices when the thought has you clenching, has you a little wetter, because he laughs at you, tells Yoongi like he can’t tell on his own. Like your boyfriend is a little dumb, like he’s never fucked you before, and that does something to both of you.
One finger turns into two. Yoongi’s a fucking mess, absolutely gone of the feel of them inside you, against his cock, can’t stop moaning. The tight fit has Taehyung’s fingers pressed snug against your g-spot, exactly how Yoongi’s had been, and it’s too much. Too much.
“I’m, fuck—I’m gonna—”
When you come it feels like the end of the world. It feels like rapture. It feels like every atom in your body has been rearranged, like the gods themselves are rewarding you specifically with the sound of Yoongi following right behind you, moaning low and ragged, spilling into the condom.
In the comedown, he kisses you—soft, tender, with every iota of love and affection contained in him. “I love you,” he says. Presses another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You okay?”
“Not sure,” you answer honestly. “Give me three to five business days to decide.”
Yoongi’s smile is shy, almost embarrassed. More gums than anything else. Behind you, the rumble of Taehyung’s laughter against your back, rattling your ribs. Rattling your heart, maybe, lodged safely between them.
It expands, makes more room—the one for Taehyung, that house—and Yoongi’s lips find Taehyung’s next and you know it’ll be okay. These two stupid boys, they’ll figure it out, put a cease fire to their foolish game.
Yeah, something inevitable.
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as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤
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cursedvibes · 2 months
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I think Yuuji getting through to Megumi and finding out he has no will to live anymore would've been more impactful if we saw more of him during his possession than the three panels stretched over nearly 40 chapters where he's always just lying on the floor crying.
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We initially get input that he's trying to fight back against Sukuna after he was hit with Jacob's Ladder, but then he's essentially just a footnote. "Btw, Megumi is somewhere in there and he's suffering." But we don't really see it.
I think it all comes down that the moment that really broke him, the Yorozu vs Sukuna fight should've given him more focus and Tsumiki. If that moment really hit and we saw him give up, his lack of presence for the rest of the chapters wouldn't be such a big problem.
The Yorozu fight was really just focused on her and Sukuna and their history. You get a mention that Sukuna is doing this to break Megumi and oh no, Tsumiki would die too, but really it's about Yorozu's character and Sukuna learning to handle 10 Shadows. Everything is about them, their jokes and then as a last addition we get "oh yeah, Megumi is sad because someone who has his sister's face died". Everything is already over at that point there is no tension, we don't feel with Megumi because the focus is on other people who vaguely look like him and Tsumiki. Looks are the only real connection to the sibling drama here and I think Yorozu and Sukuna don't even look that much like them. That should've been better balanced.
Take Yuuji's breakdown in Shibuya for example. That makes him want to die as well and throw everything away. We're there with him, how he goes through briefly raised hopes to crushing defeat, how his face distorts as he sees Nanami and Nobara die before him. He's going through anger, fighting with grit teeth for as long as he can until he just curls in on himself and wants to die like his friends. We hear his thoughts, we can emphasize with what is happening. Even when he finds out what happened while Sukuna took over, we see the memories swarm his mind, he desperately clutches his head, claws at the ground, throws up. It's utterly heartbreaking. And that is because we experience it with Yuuji. We don't just cut to him lying on the floor unresponsive and that's the only feedback we get to his emotional state, not even some thoughts.
Megumi clearly saw or felt what happened while Sukuna was in control of his body (I mean, if we didn't have the editor comment like in the volume release you could also think the Bath just numbed him, but I'm not gonna be that picky here). So show him struggle during the fight against Yorozu aka the body of Tsumiki. Show his reaction to being rendered mute and powerless, unable to even lift a finger to hinder Sukuna. Show me his thoughts, he clearly has them. Show me how he eventually came to just give up and wait for death. Just something, anything. All of this I mentioned I am just inferring, we don't get to go through his emotional journey that is clearly very important to the story. All we see is the aftermath with no additional context and then nothing for another 20 chapters or so.
For that matter, show me Tsumiki, if there's anything left of her at all. That is who Megumi tries to fight for after all and she's a victim in all this too. She might've gone through the same things Megumi did, she might've experienced similar pain, but we simply don't know. What would Megumi even be fighting for? Was Tsumiki just dead or gone ever since Yorozu woke up in the hospital or did she witness what was going on as well? Was the Yorozu fight just pointless in that regard because clearly Tsumiki was long gone anyway and Sukuna is essentially just burying a dead body? This fight could've actually been quite dramatic. It claimed to be that due to Megumi and potentially Tsumiki suffering in the background, but it was in the end completely inconsequential. Sukuna and Yorozu would've fought anyway, if Megumi and Tsumiki were there or not, and Yorozu would've always lost. Since except for some throwaway lines and the end panel there isn't really any acknowledgement of the emotional stakes, they fall completely flat. It's about Yorozu and her understanding of love and also a bit about Sukuna's backstory and all this is nice and interesting, I certainly enjoyed it, but this should've laid the groundwork for what is happening to possessed-Megumi as well.
Same with the Gojo fight. Was Megumi effected at all by seeing Gojo there, was he affected by what Gojo said, his disregard for Megumi's body that made Yuuji and Hana question if he even cared? Did he feel anything when Gojo died? Was he still capable of sensing what was going on outside at all or did he sleep through all that. For that matter, how did those 5 Unlimited Voids affect him? His brain should be toast by all accounts. Did he blame Gojo for anything? This could've added some much needed emotional stakes and depth to the Gojo vs Sukuna fight, but again, we don't see anything, just a repeat shot of Megumi crying on the floor.
Megumi went through some pretty significant character development and I assume that is going to go even further now that Yuuji has made contact, but that all happened off-screen. Especially "Tsumiki's" death and its impact should've been shown to lay the groundwork for what happens now. All we got so far is: what happened made him sad. Like yeah sure, I can imagine, but can't we get more than that? That's like skipping the majority of Shibuya except for Nanami and Nobara's deaths and then going right to Yuuji lying on the floor and Todo giving his inspirational speech without showing us even a hint of all the struggle and emotional turmoil Yuuji experienced in the meantime.
I'm not even a Megumi fan, it's just something I noticed while reading. Honestly, the last 30 chapters or so I pretty much forgot about Megumi. Yes, I want Yuuji to save him, but as for Megumi himself my thoughts were always just "well, I guess he's doing badly, who knows". It was all very abstract and hypothetical when it didn't need to be.
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sorcerous-caress · 6 months
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to dance with you | Astarion
[ fluff, heavy angst, bad end, character death, trauma, nb!reader ]
[Before the events of bg3, Reader is one of Astarion's victims ]
I am very sorry.
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There was no taste to numbness, no colour, shape, or smell.
Just an absence, an emptiness. 
You couldn't escape it, no matter how much you tried. Much like total darkness, the abyss waited for you back home at the end of the day.
And while you knew it was hopeless to attempt to rationalise your way out of it, to cling to some justifications that explain that lack of warmth in your life, that just maybe it somehow made you superior to endure, you knew deep down it was a waste of time.
There's no dignity in suffering. There's no prize for enduring agony. 
Your drink was getting cold.
Lifting the cup to the edge of your lips, you swallowed down what you could of the lukewarm liquid. Barely registering the taste of it.
You're spiralling again. You always did around this time of year.
People say one must imagine sisyphus happy, and yet you've dragged your own corpse up this hill too many times to count. Clawed your way out of rot and into a resemblance of a functional adult.
Staring out the cafe window into the snow-covered city, you finished the rest of your now cold drink. It was barely night, and yet the sun has already said its goodnights.
The streets will fill out soon. The buzzing of the nightlife was just on the horizon. 
You found it ironic in a way, for how much Lathander's followers loved to proclaim the sun as the symbol of absolute goodness, then how come people only felt like being their true selves at night.
It felt like a curtain being drawn at the end of the show, when the angels slept and the pressure to perform melted away.
You should take your leave soon.
Your eyes shifted to stare into the bottom of your empty cup, traces of the remains of your drink have dried up in various shapes. 
"Good evening" a voice called out to you, someone standing in front of your table, next to the empty chair.
Looking up, you were met with ruby eyes. Silvery hair and curling around pointy ears, framing the pale face and.
"Would it be alright if I joined you, my dear?" The elf continued, voice gentle as if coaxing a rabbit out of its nest.
You don't know why, but at that moment you nodded.
He sat down on the opposite chair.
You weren't superficial. At least you didn't think so. People couldn't control their appearance, so what right do you have to judge them based on it?
Yet when you took in the man in front of you. His half lidded eyes made you the sole point of his focus, the subtle smile to his lips. You would've been blind to pretend that it didn't affect you in some way.
"Do you mind if I buy you a drink? Something to warm you up, maybe?" Clear concern in his voice, "it tends to get very cold quickly at night, and we don't want someone as lovely as you getting sick now, do we?"
He was…worried about your health? A stranger you've never met before?
You shook your head. "No, it's alright." He was probably just trying to be nice, "I wasn't aware I looked miserable enough to worry a stranger, I was just about to leave anyway."
His eyes widened, his smile dropping. "No wait…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend" he cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed by the misunderstanding he caused, "But where are my manners? You may call me Astarion." 
You stared at the hand that he extended to you, he didn't seem phased by your hesitation to shake it. In fact, he patiently waited for you.
Not wanting to make this more awkward than it already is, you took his hand. He smiled again.
You told him your own name, and he said it suited you. His cold hands let go of yours after running his thumb across your hand.
"Please excuse my previous…failed attempt. I'm not used to approaching people." His eyes looked to the side, probably to mask his nervousness, you thought.
He seemed so bold and confident moments ago, yet the second you mentioned leaving, he immediately switched. 
Huh, people really aren't what they seem like, you thought to yourself. Who knew behind his confident facade was just someone like you.
"It's alright, I'm sorry for my rushed assumptions." You felt bad. This person was just trying to be nice, and you were rude to him for no reason but your own paranoia.
"I noticed you since you walked in," he admitted, "you looked…simply breathtaking." His eyes drank you up, taking in every detail of your form.
You've barely noticed him. You've barely noticed anyone in the cafe. You were too occupied wallowing in your own misery to give the outside world more than a passing glance.
"I'm flattered, really." You admitted, "but I'm not sure if I will live up to your expectations…" as shameful as it was to admit, you thought it was better to warn him early on than to pretend to be someone you're not.
Astarion's hand reached over the table, holding your own in a loose reassuring grip. Giving you enough space to pull back if you wanted to.
"Oh no, trust me." He gave your hand a comforting squeeze, "you're simply perfect." His voice dripped with honey, warm and sweet sliding down your throat.
You held his hand back.
"Then let me make it up to you, how about I buy you a drink? To warm you up." There was a playful edge to your voice as you repeated his words, "well by how cold your hand is, you probably really need this drink."
Amusement filled his face as he chuckled. "You clever little thing." Your eyes followed his tongue as he licked his lips, "I'm starting to like you already."
After a couple of drinks and some time, the two of you ended up leaving the establishment together. Light conversation flowed seamlessly and weaved into one another between you both.
To say he was easy to talk to would've been an underestimation. You felt like you're hanging out with a lifelong friend instead of a stranger you've met a couple of hours ago.
You really didn't pay much attention to time flying by, not when the night sky looked so mesmerising above you. Not when Astarion sat next to you on the garden bench.
And while your conversations didn't stay light for long, he didn't seem like he minded as he leant you his shoulder to lean on while you expressed your worries.
"I think you should tell them. They're your parents, after all." His arm kept you close to his body, "Isn't it their job to help you during rough times and all of that?"
"I don't know, I'm supposed to be an adult." You hid half your face in his shoulder, "I much rather suck it up until I find a new job, and then maybe I'll tell them."
Easier said than done. It's been a week since you've handed in your applications, and yet not a single letter was sent back to you.
"I just don't want to be a burden," you continued "sometimes I wish I didn't worry them so much. Maybe they'll do better without me holding them back." 
Astarion didn't reply. His hold tightened around you.
"Sometimes…I wish I could just disappear." You buried your face in his neck, taking in his scent and closing your eyes.
Again, no reply, only the sound of the night breeze rustling the nearby bushes. The moon looming over the both of you and showering you in her light.
A waning moon.
"I ruined the mood, didn't i?" You let out a bitter laugh as you pulled away from him, "I'm sorry."
There was a somber expression on his face, his usually sharp eyes appearing soft and round.
"No, not at all." He said, "I was just thinking about your words. Wishing to disappear."
With a heavy sigh, he turned to you. "I could preach to you all night about how valuable a single mortal life is like they do all morning at those temples, but we both know that's bullshit." His voice sounded more natural, vastly different from the smooth sultry tone he had before. "Life will still move on, with or without that person."
You snorted, "What, not a fan of the church and gods?" 
"More like they're not fans of mine. But I suppose we can't all have taste." Getting up from the bench, the moonlight illuminated the edges of his hair like a halo, completely facing you.
"I suppose they're missing out." Walking by his side, the two of you strolled through the garden at a slow pace. Hands occasionally brushing against each other.
"Definitely, who wouldn't want this face on their side. I'd probably get them more visitors than their clerics ever could." Leaning closer, Astarion stopped in his tracks as his hand held your face.
"Actually, something tells me you'd do very well at that job, helping others." You leaned into his hand, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
With a sarcastic laugh, he said "Please, me?" 
"Yes, you." When you opened your eyes, you were met with his intense gaze, "you're really good at making people feel at ease, letting them speak their worries. Like you did to me."
"Darling, I did no such thing." He lowered his eyes to your lips, licking his own. Maybe he was using this as an excuse to avoid your gaze.
You gently lifted his chin to look at you again, "Sometimes the best way to help someone is to listen to them, truly listen." 
His lips pressed into a thin line.
"I have been cold and rude to you, and yet you've treated me with warmth…that's a gift, you know. I won't ever forget it." Your own hands cupped his face, contrasting against his pale cold skin. "So yes, if you ever consider being a cleric or something one day, you'll definitely have my recommendation." 
Closing the distance between the two of you, your lips gently pressed against his forehead. Wishing his safety and well being with a quick peck as you pulled away.
His own hands left you long ago, laying abandoned on his sides. His fingers twitched.
Taking a deep breath, you saw his usual easy going smile come back. You felt at ease again as he returned to what you knew as his normal self. "I can think of a way or two you could repay me then, something we would both enjoy greatly." he said.
You felt a subtle touch against your hips, his hands asking permission to hold you.
It was getting really late, you realised. Your dogs must be worried sick back home. Their anxious figures waiting in front of the doorstep, you remember kissing them goodbye before you left.
...
It will be alright, it's just one night. You always left them more food than normal just in case, so they'll be safe and happily fed until your arrival.
Maybe you can even introduce Astarion to them tomorrow. You have a feeling they'll absolutely love licking his face until his hair is a mess.
"Yeah." You pushed his hands to fully grip your hips, his smile grew. "That sounds good to me."
-
The time spent during the walk to his home flew by. He was very good at making you lose yourself in the moment. 
Stepping inside, he kept a tight hold on you as he led you through the corridors.
Huge oil paintings adorned the crimson walls, a red carpet to match. You immediately noticed the lack of windows, and whatever ones you could spot had a thick layer of black curtains drawn closely shut over them.
He ignored any servants you passed by, and likewise, they seemed to pretend you didn't exist either, as if you were invisible like a ghost.
Astarion's demeanour shifted the second you stepped foot inside the palace, and his replies reduced to one word or less whenever you tried to start a conversation. 
You had a sinking feeling in the pits of your stomach, gnawing at your flesh and slowing down your steps.
"Is something wrong?" You asked him after he led you into a bedroom at the end of the hall. "You don't seem well."
His back was turned to you.
You took a step forward, placing a hand on his back. "Astarion?"
He flinched away from your hand the second you touched him, as if you burned the flesh on his back. A low hiss of pain escaped his lips.
Turning to face you after a few seconds, his expression was schooled back into the most charming smile.
"I just tend to get nervous when it comes to initiating intimacy." He told you, a nervous look in his eyes as he shifted slightly.
Oh, is that why he has been acting this way? You offered a comforting smile. "That's completely alright. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
"... really? Even when you came the whole way here?" He said with a sceptical tone, "nonsense, my dear, I will get over it in time. I just…need a couple of minutes, yeah."
"I really mean it, Astarion, we don't have to do anything." You repeated yourself more firmly.
You thought your words might offer him some relief, yet the subtle frown to his lips only grew deeper. 
"How about we just get comfortable on the bed and see where the night takes us?" He offered, unbuttoning the cuffs of his embroidered shirt and sitting on the lush bed.
You didn't like his total disregard for your offer. You could tell he wasn't believing you. But you didn't want to push him at the time, so you just let it go.
After making some adjustments to your clothes until you were in a comfortable state, you joined him on the bed. He immediately turned to face you. His body was so close to yours.
"Now…" he whispered so close to your ear. "Just how much I wanted to make you mine since the moment I saw you."
One thing led to another, a teasing touch there, a promising squeeze here, and the taste of his lips against yours.
He just knew how to take your breath away, how to get you to melt into the kiss. Wanting more, chasing after his tongue for another taste.
His hand going down your body, feeling your throat, your chest, your waist, and then your thighs. Heat collected between your legs. You could feel your body respond back to his expert touches, completely ignoring your brain and forming a mind of its own as it grinded against his hands.
Pleasure was overwhelming you. It was both too much and not enough at the same time. It was addicting and consuming.
Was he enjoying it, too? Did seeing you this needy and responsive to his touches make him burn with lust and desire for you?
You tried breaking the kiss to get a good look at him, but he wouldn't relent. Wouldn't give you a chance to even think about anything else but your own pleasure.
When you finally managed to pull away from his lips, you couldn't get more than a glance at his expression before he immediately went for your neck. Sucking and marking the flesh with vigour, teeth sending shivers down your spine.
You didn't realise how sharp his teeth were until you felt them graze your neck. They were almost alarmingly sharp, one wrong move, and they'd glide easily into your flesh.
"Astarion…" you called out to him. His lips left your neck and took it as an invitation to kiss you again, stealing your breath away. "Astarion no wait- " you mumbled between each kiss.
That got him to stop, his hands pulling away from your body.
"Yes my love?" He breathed against your lips.
Your eyes met his, you took in his dishevelled appearance, the flush to his cheeks and his wet glistening lips. His eyes looked like they held desire in them, inviting and tantalising.
But the more you stared into them, the less they seemed to look at you and instead look through you. Deep inside his eyes, he was a thousand miles away. 
You couldn't even see a hint of desire in them if you took away the facade.
"I don't want this." You whispered.
"Did I do something wrong?" 
"No…I just don't want this."
He got off of you, giving you your space back.
Neither of you mentioned it, instead each of you stuck to their own side of the bed.
It was clear he didn't know how to proceed forward, a crease to his eyebrows while in deep thoughts, as you assumed.
The silence was uncomfortable, unbearable even. Your mind wandered back to your home, your comfortable safe haven. 
In an attempt to lighten the mood, you said, "one time, Luna cost me over 5000 golds."
Seemingly coming back to reality, it took Astarion some seconds to fully register your words, "Luna?"
"My dog," you said, "the sweetest shepherd you'll ever meet. I came home from work late one time and she wagged her tail so fast that she fractured it." 
"She sounds charming." Astarion let out a soft laugh, "although, why Luna?"
"She's black and white, you know like the phases of the moon. I thought it was clever at the time." You admitted, "or are you more of a cat person?"
"I'm not an animal person at all, honestly." 
"What, are they also not fans of you?"
That got another chuckle out of him. "They tend to be too smelly for my liking, but I'd take a cat over a horse any day." 
He turned his body to face you again, you did the same.
"Really? Luna adores horses, she could teach you a thing or two."
"Are you really not only suggesting that the dog and I meet up, but that she'd also take me as her pupil?"
"I mean…well yeah, I was kinda hoping I'd take you to meet her tomorrow morning." You cleared your throat, "well that's if you want to.
His focus seemed to drift again, "...you don't happen to have cats, do you?" His tone was quieter than before, eyes not fully meeting yours.
"There's a stray that comes to visit Luna daily, he's not very friendly to other people but who knows." As corny as you thought your line sounded, you still proceeded to say it in hopes it will lift his mood up, "maybe he'll also fall victim to your charm like I did."
Instead of the reaction you expected, you were met with genuine scepticism.
"Ha" his laugh was bitter, "you don't have to spare my feelings darling, I know you don't see me that way."
You sat up on the bed.
"What do you mean?"
He looked up at you, you felt like he was attempting to make himself smaller against the pillow.
"Oh I'm not holding a grudge or anything." He claimed, "I can admit it when I'm not someone's type or whatever."
Brushing a strand of his hair behind his pointy ear, you tried to coax him to meet your eyes again. "...Astarion, I am very attracted to you.
He leaned away from your hand. "Then why did you want to stop?"
The truth burned in your throat to admit. "I just…I didn't feel like you were enjoying it. Like you wanted it."
That look, the eyes staring through you.
Astarion seemed very conflicted, about what? You weren't sure. But you wanted to comfort him, to take away his pain and carry it yourself instead.
He never denied your words.
You pulled your hand away from his hair, still not laying down beside him as you watched his body curl under the covers.
"It's alright, you don't have to explain anything." You got up from the bed, "I can leave if it's-" just as you were about to pick up your clothes, his hand immediately grabbed your wrist in a desperate grip.
"No," he said with dread in his eyes, "you can't."
It was a complete switch from his previous state, you weren't sure what to even make of it.
"I can't?" 
He seemed to catch himself, letting go of your wrist.
"stay with me, at least for tonight." His eyes were pleading, "we can just hold each other, isn't that what you want?" 
He sat up from the bed, gently taking your hands in his as he led you back to the comfort of the sheets.
"It's what I want." He whispered, voice so inviting and beckoning you closer, "I swear." 
You weren't strong enough to resist.
Following after him, your bodies pressed together under the soft sheets. You only felt your own heartbeat in your chest as he held you close. He was cold, so you shared your own body warmth to warm him up. 
The candles in the room were burning out, a calming silence fell. Lulling you to rest and let the day end.
You could only hear your own heart beating.
This was nice, it felt nice and safe so it must be.
Just as sleep was about to steal you away, Astarion's voice nudged you back awake.
"What do you like about me?" His voice was raw, sincere.
You couldn't see his face, "you, of course."
He moved against you, "obviously, now be more specific."
You tried to think about it. It felt like one of these important questions that'd shape your future relationship with him, so you tried to give it all of your thoughts.
There were so many things to love about him, but many of them were things you'd still love him without.
Yet they were still parts of him, but how many parts were actually him.
"Your nature." Was the answer you gave, still not quite satisfied with it.
"Oh shit." His serious tone didn't last long before being replaced by a playful one, "I didn't invite a druid to my bed, did i?" 
You snorted, "very funny, but I meant it." 
Even without seeing his face, you felt his lips curl upwards against your skin. Claiming that small victory was enough for you.
"You know" you found yourself rambling, "my day was going absolutely horrible until you showed up. I don't usually really believe in gods or miracles, but…you were the closest thing to a guardian angel I've ever had."
A yawn escaped your lips, you continued.
"I was too inside my head. I forgot that a whole world outside existed. A world with people like you." Your eyelids fluttered, sleep lurked behind them. "As shitty as life can be, somehow I believe things will be okay." 
Adjusting your position so you could face him in the dark, you felt his body stiffen against yours.
"Goodnight Astarion." you gave his forehead a small kiss, wishing for his safety and well being. "Rest well."
-
The deep hours of the night is when the Szarr palace fell the most silent. Merely an hour or two separating them from dawn.
A warm living breathing body laid next to him, just like many others before. And Astarion embraced them just like many others before.
But the waves of emotions swirling inside him like poison were definitely new.
He didn't get a hint of rest, he couldn't. As much as he wanted to just close his eyes for the remaining hours and ignore the waking world. After all they will definitely disappear in the morning, so what's a few hours of blissful ignorance?
But he just couldn't, the thought itself threatened to turn his stomach inside out. Disgust he has never felt in years lurching at his insides.
It's their fault, it's all their fault.
They should've made it easier for him. They should've just closed their eyes, spread their legs, and ignored his existence. 
They shouldn't have mentioned their stupid moon dog. They shouldn't have made him leer inside at the idea of having parents to support you yet still choosing to suffer alone.
How dare they be so cruel? How dare they kiss his forehead so tenderly.
He was choking. His throat burned so much that every breath felt like needles being dragged against the inside of his neck.
Worst of all, he could still hear their heartbeat. Did his own sound like that before? Is this what it felt like to have a speck of evidence that you're alive? 
A constant reminder of your mortal life, of your endless potential, of your stupid naivety and your pointless kindness.
His whole body was shaking.
Cazador will be here soon. Just like so many times before.
He needed to act fast. He needed to do something. Otherwise, he felt like he would go crazy.
They don't deserve whatever that monster did with all the others. They don't deserve a fate that cruel, not someone like them. Please God, anyone else but them.
He prayed, holding them closely as he begged and pleaded with each one of the Gods he could recall the name of in his state of panic.
If not for his miserable life then please do something for them, they're still a mortal, they're still one of your children. Please god just save them.
Like always, no answer came.
Astarion felt hopeless, useless and small. 
He stared in horror at his own hands, still in the same praying position. He truly had nothing to offer.
Nothing except a dignified death.
Death would save them from Cazador, Death would save them from torture.
Death was what he should've picked that night almost two centuries ago. 
Careful not to disturb their peaceful rest, Astarion grabbed a pillow.
He took one last good look at them in the dark, he engraved their face into his memory.
He wanted to lean over and give them one last kiss. He didn't feel like he deserved to.
The pillow pressed against their face, slowly cutting off their oxygen.
Astarion held tightly. He kept his hold firm even as they struggled.
He couldn't take his eyes off of the pillow, his tears falling and staining its white cover. A drop after another.
As their struggles died down, by that time, he had gotten his side of the pillow entirely wet. He still held firm, despite his shaking fingers, despite the blood slowly joining his tears onto the pillow from how hard his teeth dug into his lips.
At these hours, the Szarr palace was the most silent. He couldn't risk making a single sound.
Only when a heartbeat ceased to exist did he let go of his grip.
He got off the bed, closed their eyes and covered their face with the sheets. He sat on the floor, head next to their cold dead feet.
Despite his clean hands, he swore he felt their blood on them, seeping into his skin and marking him forever.
Not just their blood, but the blood of every innocent miserable person he lured back into this hell.
He just wanted to save them, to save this one person. Take a life in stride and carry the guilt to the end of his days. 
It was just one life, one very precious person.
Was a very precious person.
But he forgot to account for the hundreds of lives he has taken indirectly before, it was easier to forget when it wasn't his own hands stopping their heartbeat.
His whole world felt like it stopped because of one life.
As he sat there on the cold floor, naked, shaking with tears streaming down his face, he heard the very familiar tapping of a staff against the floorboards.
All of his feelings vanished in an instant, as if he was drowning in a deep volcanic abyss before getting pulled into the freezing surface.
He could not feel his fingers, numbness spread throughout his whole body.
The tapping got closer. It was heading towards him.
Cazador was heading towards him.
There were no feelings left inside him, just pure numbness.
There was no taste to numbness, no colour, shape, or smell.
Just an absence, an emptiness. 
He couldn't escape it, no matter how much he tried. Much like total darkness, the abyss waited for him back home at the end of the day.
163 notes · View notes
multi-fandom-simp · 1 year
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Forever and always.. or maybe never. Part 2
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[Part 1] [Alternate Ending]
Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader
Hanahakis Disease!AU
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.
Summary: You're dead, and now Aemond must suffer the consequences of loving someone he can never have. How long until he can no longer handle it?
❗️TW❗️: Harsh language, mentions of blood and throwing up, character death, mentions of sexual situations, mentions of infidelity, slight violence, arguments, mentions of childbirth
(A/N: Part 2 is here! It took me a minute to put this together because I had so many ideas on how to do it, so I hope it is to your liking. I would love to hear thoughts, opinions, and ideas on it as well, I'm always open for criticism/suggestion! My asks/inbox are always open as well, I love nothing more than to talk about my fics, or just to you guys in general! I'm always up for having more mutuals on here! Also, if you are interested in the alternate ending for part 1, I posted a poll on what you would like to read in it, so feel free to vote. Anyways, enjoy!)
Word Count: 2,329
Taglist:  @libdarkheart @bibli0thecary @earthangels-things @iiamthehybrid @bellameshipper @introverbatim (I believe that is everyone who asked to be tagged?? I apologize if I missed anyone)
It was hours before anyone was allowed to take your body. Aemond had sat there, clutching you as you turned cold and stiff, staring off into the distance as the young boy inside his head wailed endlessly. It had been Helaena who convinced Aemond to let you go, and Daeron who supported him while he carried you to the maesters. Alicent was the first to cry out as you were pronounced officially dead, a piece of the queen's heart seeping through her lips as she wept against your hand. The small smart-mouthed girl that arrived nearly a decade and a half ago now lay unspeaking before her very eyes. 
“Tell me you were there” Alicent croaked out. 
“ Mother?” Daeron was the only one to question the queen. Helaena knew the question was not for her and Aemond still stood unmoving. 
“ Tell me you were by her side, Aemond! That she did not die alone!” Alicent stared directly at Aemond now, even if he did not look back. 
“ You think so low of me, that I would let her die unheld?” Aemond whispered.
“ I did not think you would cause her such heartbreak and yet here we are!” Alicent cried out. The fire in her eyes might even make you believe she was a Targaryen in more than just marriage. 
“ I did not know” Aemond argued softly. 
“ Then you will not know the time of her rest as well” All air sucked itself from the room and Aemond’s cardinal-rimmed eyes shot to his mother. 
“ You can not keep me from it” Where an authoritative edge was expected, vulnerability came instead. 
“ I am your mother and the queen dowager, I will do as I please” Alicent spoke harshly, “ I will take Aemys to the ceremony. I expect you to get rid of that bastard wet nurse in the meantime.” 
“ Mother-”
“ I will hear no more, Aemond! If I see you there, you will be thrown in a cell until it’s over” Alicent warned one last time while brushing hair from your face. She bent down to place a motherly kiss on your crown before turning away swiftly. Shortly after her departure, Daeron said his peace as well, followed by Helaena. Finally, Aemond stood alone with you once more. It didn’t take long for his legs to weaken and buckle, taking him down to his knees. The memory of the last time he had been on his knees for you tore a sob from his throat. 
“What are you doing?” You giggled in astonishment as Aemond removed his tunic and knelt at your feet. His hands dipped in the warm lilac water that your swollen feet soaked in. 
“ I’m going to massage the knots from your feet” Aemond explained, watching as your face contorted in bliss when his fingers dug into the right spot. 
“ That is what the maids are for, my love.” You proclaimed before laughing again, ”Most husbands would scoff at the thought of massaging their lady wife.”
“ I am not most husbands, am I?” Aemond countered, smirking up at you. He took one of his hands from the water to caress your swollen stomach. Though he had soaked your night shift with water, you could care less.
“ I suppose not” You sighed contently, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you.
“ Avy jorrāelan, Ñuha prūmia. Besides, it is the least I can do when I am the reason why you ache in the first place” Aemond continued to soothe the bump, hoping to feel movement. Kicks were his favorite, they usually occurred whenever you laughed. As if on cue, a flutter of movement blossomed underneath his touch as you chuckled at his statement. 
“ If I recall correctly, I was a part of that same reason” You took a towel from beside you as spoke and let it flutter to the floor. Carefully, and with assistance, you removed your feet from the water onto the dry cotton. 
“ Mhm, that is true, you even had me on my back at one point” Aemond snorted.
“ As I remember, you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit” You teased. 
“ Did I? Perhaps you’ll have to remind me” Aemond surged at you before you could even comprehend what was happening. His lips moved deeply against yours as he shifted you to lay back. 
“ Aem!” You gasped in delight, holding onto his shoulders.
“ Yes, Ñuha prūmia?” He cooed mischievously, gleaming down at you like the Cheshire cat.
“ This is nowhere near the position we were talking of, ñuha zaldrīzes!” Dragon. Your dragon, always. Aemond nipped at your neck upon hearing the endearment that always caused his heart to stutter. 
“ Mhm, ‘tis not, but I quite like this position” He murmured hotly against your neck. 
“ You won’t like it when it’s the position I give birth in” You whispered. It’s not that you were scared of your first child’s birth or of death itself, you just worried about never meeting your child if you did perish. 
“ Stop that” Aemond scolded. 
“ Stop what, I’m-”
“ Overthinking. I can feel it” He rose slightly to press his forehead to yours, "Both of you will make it out just fine, though I imagine the babe might still scream well afterward” 
Aemond was right, Aemys did cry well into the night after his birth until you were awake and well to hold him that is. It’s ironic, Aemond thinks, how similar that was to now. You were unconscious after a taxing birth, now you lay unconscious on a pyre. Aemys screamed for you then, and he screams for you now, despite Aemond being there both times. 
“ Muña! Muñaaaaa!” Aemond silently braided a piece of the thrashing toddler's hair as he kicked and screamed. Even at three years of age, he was clever enough to know something was wrong. 
“ Muñaaa-”
“ Aemys, please..” Aemond sighed tiredly, turning the child to face him. 
“ Jaelagon. Muña.” Want. Mother. By the seven Aemond wanted you too, but he couldn’t have you. The realization caused a tightness in his chest, a breathless one, but he refused to cough. 
“ I know, byka zaldrīzes, I’m sorry.” Little Dragon. Aemys truly was still little and it broke Aemond’s heart that you would never get to see him grow big and strong. He brought the distressed toddler to his chest and held him tight, tears soaking onto the small amethyst tunic he had been wrangled into. 
“ Aemond” Alicent called out from the doorway, poised in an onyx dress with a belt of deep purple jewels to match her grandson and a hand full of lilacs. Your faithful hyena, Lark appeared as well, striding into the room slowly. 
“ Be good for your grandmother” Aemond spoke quietly but firmly, before standing to full height. He watched as Aemys toddled over to Alicent, giggling as Lark lapped the tears off his cherubic cheeks. 
“ Muña?” Aemys whispered, your eyes shining up at Alicent through his.
“Mama?” the young girl croaked, peering up at a young Alicent Hightower.
“ Your mother isn’t here-” Her voice faltered at the heartbreak in your innocent eyes, “but surely we can see her later, alright? Now, what else would you like, little one?” 
“Flowers?” Alicent chuckled, before taking your small hand in hers. 
“ I suppose I can show you the lilacs..they’re my favorite” The queen whispered down to you, smiling when your face lit up. You may not have been hers, and despite Viserys being the one to invite you, it was the queen who took you under her wing. 
“Mother.” Alicent’s head snapped up to look at Aemond, breaking from her memories. She blinked rapidly to dispel the water weight from her eyes. 
“ Your mother isn’t here, but we’ll see her…someday” Alicent reassured, taking Aemys little hand in her own. Aemond watched as they went before leaving the room himself. He trudged up to a small room at the top of the tallest viewpoint in the castle. Dreamfyre was circling the skies, waiting for Helaena to say Dracarys. 
“ Aemond!” The sound of his name on your tongue lapped at his ear and your footsteps echoed past him. Dreamfyre now flew towards the grassy knoll. 
“You’re handsome to me” The ghost of your fingers prickled goosebumps near his scar. Dreamfyre landed upon the ground. 
“Avy jorrāelan”
 “Avy jorrāelan.” Your proclamation of love faded away with a hot wind as Aemond’s rang through the air. Dreamfyre hurled fire as Aemond hurled petals.��
Whereas your suffering lasted two months, Aemond’s lasted a year. He never tried to conceal, nor cure it. Aemond once said he would die without you and he meant it. Over the course of his downfall, several had tried to convince him to remarry.
“She’s gone, Aemond-”
“ Do not speak my name. I am a prince, refer to me as such.” Aemond snapped coldly at Alys, who stood in front of him and his family in the hall. Unfortunately with a slightly swollen belly accompanying her. The very sight of it made Alicent and even Helaena nauseous. You had only been gone a few months.
“ Apologies, my prince-” 
“ I did not say your prince, I am nothing of yours.” Aemond corrected once more. 
“ You were once” Alys spoke, gazing wickedly at the man before her. 
“ You tricked me, bewitched me” Aemond sneered.
“ I merely used your lady wife’s blood to make you think I was her. You, Aemond Targaryen are the one who chose to believe it. You began to love m-” 
“ I loved her, not you! It will always be her-” Aemond turned swiftly as he felt the familiar dryness creep up his throat and out onto his hand, bringing rivers of scarlet in its wake. 
“ I was going to offer myself up to you for marriage, but it seems that your wife still calls to you even from the ground.” Alys tuts, “Such a pity that I couldn’t have either of you in the end.” 
Pity. It was a thing that Aemond found himself receiving often. Lords would offer their pity on losing such a gorgeous young wife. Ladies of the court pitied him for losing the only woman who could ever love a monster like him. Even Aegon pitied him, but not for the right reasons. 
“It’s a pity that you lost your wife brother, because now I have to find you another one through alliance. Which mother loathes me for because she believes it’s too soon” Aegon grumbled the last part into his chalice as to avoid his mother's glare. 
“ I will not take another wife” Aemond didn’t bother to eat nor look at anyone, he was only sitting at the table for duty’s sake anyway. In his head, he was in a whole other world where you were alive and happy. 
“ You will remarry, to a Baratheon girl. You will remarry, forget about your old wife, which will get rid of those damned petals you leave everywhere, and then sire more children” Aegon chuckled darkly. 
“ No.” Aemond refuted. 
“ Yes-”
“No! I will not take another wife as long as I lo-” Aemond wasn’t able to say the word much these days without it being an instant reaction. The blonde looked down at his hands and saw not only flowers but thorns. He was nearing his end. 
Aemond’s end wouldn’t come for many more months. Leaving him time to try and end his life quicker. Many morrows would pass and for each one Aemond sat on his knees in front of Vhagar, but nothing ever came of it. Either the dragon refused to kill another rider, or she agreed with Alicent on the fact that Aemond deserved to suffer as you did. Aemond also lived to see Aemys reach another birthday. He spent as much time with the boy as he could in between his duties. It was the only time he could ever get a glimpse of you outside of his mind. The four-year-old’s eyes had become windows to your soul. Not only did Aemys have your eyes, but he had begun to display your mannerisms as well. Mimicking the way you used to carry yourself, the way you talked, and ate as well. The only thing he held of Aemond was hair and emotional range. Though the latter did not develop until after your death. 
“ Aemys, father must go now.” Aemond stood in full armor at the child’s bedchamber door. 
“ Okay.” Aemys spoke with a soft smile before figuring out how to say his next words, “Tell Muña I say hi”
Aemond’s expression fell before it was quickly replaced. He memorized the look of his son once more before taking off down the hall towards Vhagar. Aemys’s words repeated through his head as he flew toward God's Eye. Blood trailed from the corner of his lips and nose, but he ignored and braved on. He would die a dragon rider's death, a brave death, so that he may meet you again in the afterlife. The universe, however, like before, had crueler plans. Air began to solidify into silk beneath the tissue of Aemond’s lungs. His bronchioles turned to thorns, and trachea to roots, all while his body remained the soil. 
“ I-I lov-” For the first time since your death, Aemond sobbed. He needed to say it, needed to say he loved you before he died. The sky, the clouds, the stars, the universe, all of it needed to know how he truly loved you. Aemond could not see caraxes flying towards him with a rider confused on why his nephew was kneeled over before the battle had even begun. Daemon would not attack an injured rider, it would bring him no pride or glory. Instead, he watched as Aemond slid sideways from Vhagar and plummeted towards the river. 
“ Avy jorrāelan” “ Avy jorrāelan” This time it was your proclamation of love that engulfed Aemond’s just as the river of sea and blood consumed him. Aemond Targaryen could not feel the crisp coldness of the water, only the soft warmth of your hands pulling him in.
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impactedfates · 8 months
Note
Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking that because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of their extremely harsh training sessions the reader decides to run away especially after one particularly rough training session where the reader was injured after they accidentally talked back and that night the reader starts packing their stuff but they accidentally left behind their late mother's pendant and Blade found it the next morning. (I hope you're okay with writing this and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or good night ☺️)
A/N: Hihi!! Dw I'm okay with writing this, thanks for the request! I hope you're having a good morning/afternoon/night as well :) This is not how I personally interpreted Blade, however to fit in with this request, I tried my best to match it up based on said request. I hope this oneshot is too your liking, I tried my best to follow the prompt of your thing. Tbh I don't like what I've written much but I hope you can enjoy it anyways.
W.C: 1389
Warnings: Blade is a bad dad, small mentions of death (Readers Mom and some mara struck soldiers), small mentions of blood, angst ending (I think?), most definitely an ooc Blade honestly...,semi-proof read as always.
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((Reader is a teen in this))
Blade's sword slashed through the mara struck beings. His eyes cautiously looking everywhere to ensure he wouldn’t get surprised attacked. Soon the surrounding mara struck enemies where no more. He was able to go back home and see his love.
He called out her name, expecting a reply back. But all that filled his ears was eerily silence…he didn’t walk too far away from her did he?
He paused a bit and called out again, still no response, he was quick to turn and speed walked in the direction he saw her last. Eyes slightly widening as he spotted who he was looking for on the ground, bleeding out. The mara struck soldier who was responsible, right beside them about to deal a final blow, Blade quickly moved and slashed it, it disappeared into dust. But he had no time to celebrate his victory as he quickly crouched down and lifted up his love.
All she could do was weakly turn to him.
“I managed to kill it the first time…b-but their revival state was much stronger than I first thought…how stupid am I huh?”
She spoke, her hands quickly lifted to her mouth as she coughed, blood coming out. Blade was beyond concerned.
“I’ll…I’ll get you to a healer…just hang on tight”
He had softly said, standing up slowly, trying his best to make his way to a nearby healer he could threaten to heal her or just go back to the Stellaron Hunters Base to get her treated.
“Bladie…there’s no need…I-I don’t think I’d make it anyways…”
“Don’t say that, I just have to be quick”
He answered her quickly, shaking his head before cursing under his breath about the whereabouts of Kafka.
“Bladie…me and you both know I won’t make it…so…can you make a promise to me?”
“Sweetheart, you aren’t going too…I won’t let it happen”
Blade's voice rang out once more, but he knew she was right but he just won’t accept it. He can’t.
“Promise me you’ll take care of our kid…make them have a happy life…even if it is in this awful world…even if I’m not there…make sure they’re able to protect themselves as well so they won’t suffer the same fate as me…promise me?”
“S-stop…y-you aren’t g-going too…” 
“Promise me”
Blade stood still from where he was, halting his actions. He stared at her for a bit before looking away. “I promise…”
.
.
.
“Dad p-please can we rest…f-for just a minute”
Your voice ran out tiredly in the training room, your hands on your knees as you attempted to catch your breath. Your eyes glance up to your father, Blade. His sword was still in hand as he looked at you. Showing no emotion like always. He slowly made his way to you, out of instinct you moved back, until your back hit a wall.
“How do you think you’ll be able to protect yourself if you cannot withstand this training?”
He spoke, his eyes narrowing a bit at your form, as he folded his arms. Your breathing slowed a bit as you looked to the ground.
“T-these training sessions…are getting too hard for me…c-can’t we for once just…go out to eat or s-something” “What do you mean by that?”
You took a deep breath in, lifting your head up, eyes meeting his.
“W-we used to go out a lot w-when mom was still here”
You start, not failing to notice the way he tightened his grip on his sword by the very mention of your mother.
“M-mom…s-she would’ve liked if I was resting…I-I don’t think she’d like it if you or I were overworking ourselves with training”
“Your mothers gone”
Blade speaks, inching forward, his arms to his side as his eyes glare at you. You knew that bringing your mother up would strike a nerve in Blade, you knew how much he loved her. But you felt like this was the only way he’d listen.
“Yes, I know b-but…she would’ve wanted us to be happy, to n-not always train too-”
“She’s gone.”
Your father repeated, his grip on the sword increasing with each word that passed through your lips. You shut your mouth for a second, breathing in. Trying to calm yourself and giving your father some time to calm himself as well. Soon your father spoke up again.
“I lost your mother…I’m not losing you just because you couldn’t protect yourself”
“You’re not even there for me anyways, why do you care!?”
“Because I promised your mother!”
“Well you’re not doing a very good job at keeping that promise are you!”
.
.
.
It was quick, maybe you went out of line with what you said, maybe you didn’t. But the next thing you knew was Blade's sword stabbed on the wall next to your head, but also the feeling of blood trickling down your cheek. Your hand had lifted slowly to check the cut, it wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t small either.
Blades heaving breathing filled the room, his eyes looking at the floor before slowly to your face. He slowly moved back a bit upon seeing the cut on your cheek. He hadn’t meant too…he just…snapped. He only intended to stab his sword on the wall, not to hurt you in any way but he failed anyway. He quickly moved away from you and looked to the side before speaking up in a quiet voice.
“…I’m-”
“I’m going to my room”
And now here you were, packing your bags. You had already patched up your wound, but you didn’t want to stay for any longer.
You double, triple checked you had everything before waiting until the dead of night to sneak out. You didn’t know where you’d be going but…anywhere away from your so-called father right?
And despite all your checking, you seemed to have missed the gift your mother wanted to give you before she died.
.
.
.
Blade couldn’t sleep, he lay in bed breathing slowly thinking about what happened…he was so concentrated on fulfilling the promise to ensure you could protect yourself that he forgot he also promised to make you happy. He knew he’d have a long way to go if he wanted to do that but…he’ll start.
The next morning comes along, and although Blade didn’t get as much sleep as he probably should’ve. He was thinking of ways to try and get your forgiveness.
Slowly he got off his bed and made his way to your room, he’ll check on you first. Hopefully you’ll be okay with listening to him.
He knocked once, twice, three times on the door. No response, the only thing was silence. He tried again.
And again.
And…again…
Each round of knocking grew louder and desperate as time went on. The same aching feeling he had in his heart when he realised his old love wasn’t responding…now it was his kid that wasn’t.
But they were just mad at him right?...That’s gotta be it.
“...I’m coming in”
He spoke, slowly opening the door to an empty room, he opened the door wider and looked around. Where were you? You’re hiding right? You gotta be hiding. He looked around.
“...[Name]...come out…this isn’t funny”
He spoke, looking around the room, hoping you’d jump out at him.
“If this is payback for what…happened…then I deserve it, but please come out”
He tried again. His eyes looked everywhere in the room, until it caught on something shining in the sunlight. He walked over, it was your mothers late pendant. His hand slowly reached for it, his thumb slowly running over the gem in the middle. He paused for a bit before clutching onto it. Making his way out of the room in silence.
Perhaps he was dumb to think you’d stick around after what happened and how he treated you. How he’d only really converse or hang out with you if it was training.
But he had hoped he would be able to fix it before you grew resentful of him…perhaps he was dumb on that part too. Somehow seeing the pendant in the empty room made him realise that not only did he lose his love, but also you. It made him finally accept that you ran away from home...from him.
And not only that, he couldn’t fulfil a part of the promise he made.
To make you have a happy life.
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My friend who I asked to read through it said it was giving Endeavour vibes and I have no idea how to feel about that...maybe that's part of the reason why I don't like this fic...
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thebibliosphere · 1 year
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How did you get rid of yr migraines?? #ineedthistoo
They're not totally gone, but I found out they were being hugely exacerbated by atypical binocular vision disorder. (Meaning I don't have the usual expected double vision, which was why my regular eye doctor missed it.)
I got tested by a neuro-ophthalmologist who did a 3, almost 4-hour eye exam to find that my eyes were not working in harmony and were likely causing a lot of fatigue and pain.
If you want to read more about how I got diagnosed and what it was like, I documented the whole thing on my blog. Just look for 'binocular vision disorder.'
If you want the tl;dr version: I am now wearing micro prism lenses to correct my eyes, along with a red tint to the glass to help with my severe photophobia.
My eye doctor prescribes migraine patients red-tinted lenses, as the red tint blocks more blue light than either yellow or green-- which are the typical color of lenses designed for screen use.
Even if you don't have any form of BVD, I'm going to highly suggest looking into red-tinted glasses, as even when I was waiting on my new prescription coming in, I was wearing a pair of non-rx red glasses, and my migraine pain severity went down drastically.
I didn't realize how much I was squinting and clenching my facial muscles from pain caused by blue light (natural and tech generated). All the screens in my house are now set to the night-light setting, which makes them orange/red, and I'm getting uv films for my windows so we can still see out but not have as much sun/snow glare in our south-facing home.
I'm also replacing the green acetate cover for my screen with a red one, just for an added layer of protection.
It makes my world very rosy, but it's helping*.
I also take magnesium and b2 as directed by my regular neurologist, which seems to help--though obviously, it couldn't help correct the issue my eyes were creating, so I'm interested to see if I get more benefit from them now.
The rest of my migraines now seem to be hormonal, which I am still pursuing, though sadly, with little help from my current ob/gyn. Need to work on that.
Anyway, that's how I went from 15-20 migraines a month down to 3. My eyes were fucked. They are still fucked, and I'm doing vision therapy along with the prisms to try and help, but so far, it's working!
---
*For anyone wondering, I still do green light therapy, which is also recommended for migraines. I'm just also trying to block as much blue light as possible, as that seems to be a major source of pain for me, not to mention the disruption to my sleep schedule. I've suffered my whole life from delayed sleep phase syndrome as part of my ADHD, but my chronic insomnia and problems sleeping have improved a lot since I started wearing red lenses and filtering all the tech in my house. (Ignore that I'm posting this at 2am, I'm awake by choice.)
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Text
You're waiting for a train...(2)
To Build Cathedrals
Robert Fischer x reader, Arthur x reader (if you squint)
description - You leave your dad to go look for a new architect as you and Arthur set up the workspace. But your mind is plagued with dreams of its own.
word count - 2.7k (ooo we're getting bigger)
warnings - allusions to sexual assault, mentions of death, allusion to child abuse
a/n - This chapter looks more into how y/n's mind is shaped much like her father's and we also see a hint of Arthur and y/n's relationship (and yes it is weird that she sees him as her uncle). I've realised this is gonna be a slow burn for Robert x reader because of the chronology of the inception plot I'm trying to follow; I promise it'll be worth it!
Previous Part Series Master list Master list
If you want to be added to the taglist - here
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-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Dad and I stood as statues outside the university. It all felt so familiar from my youth but when I walked through, I felt as absent as a stranger.
“He’ll want to see you.”
“I’ll leave the conversation to you. He doesn’t want to see me.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know what he thinks of me. You didn’t have a choice, I did. In his eyes, I chose wrong.”
Dad let his arm rest on my shoulder in a silent act of comfort. I sucked back the tears, so he thought I was okay. The reality was I wanted nothing more than to run in there and jump into my grandads arms. But I couldn’t, in good fait,h knowing he thought of me as the girl who abandoned her siblings for no life at all.
I wiped away a rogue tear.
“Anyways, Arthur needs me to help him set up. But I’ll be waiting at the warehouse, okay. And I promise I won’t leave to go anywhere without Arthur.” I raised my hand to cup his cheek, so he felt the sincerity of my words. I went to leave my father to his search.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone as good as you were.”
Without turning back, I shouted. “Find someone better!”
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
*Cobb’s pov*
“You never did like your office.” Dad raised his head surprised to hear my voice, even more shocked to see my body.
“No space to think in that broom cupboard.” He quipped. “Is it safe for you to be here? Where’s y/n?”
“Extradition between France and the USA is a bureaucratic nightmare. Y/n is fine, she’s with Arthur.”
“I think they might find a way to make it work in your case.”
I made my way down and sat the meek gesture of toys on his desk.
“Look, y/n bought these, she thought the kids would like them. Saw them in Amsterdam.”
“It’s gonna take more than the occasional stuffed animal to remind those kids that they still have a father…and a sister. Y/n knows that.”
“She’s trying her best. She wants to make the best out of the situation she’s in.”
“The situation you put her in.” His voice became stern, and I cowered like a small boy.
“It was her choice. She said that she couldn’t let me go just like that.”
“She was your child; you shouldn’t have let her have the choice in the first place. The choice was life or death and you let her choose death just so you could imagine you still had a family and that it all hadn’t crumbled before you.”
“Yes. I am being selfish because I like that she’s still with me. I like having her here because without her I couldn’t cope.”
“You let her follow you into this life and it seems she suffers the consequences the most.”
“She told you?”
“She told grandma.”
“What the projections or the subjects do is unpredictable. Sometimes they respond to the presence put in front of them, in her case, a beautiful young girl.”
He looks down, ashamed of what he’s hearing.
“Look I’m just doing what I know. I’m doing what you taught me.”
“I never taught you to be a thief.”
“No, you taught me to navigate people’s minds. But after what happened, there weren’t a whole lot of legitimate ways to do that.”
He suddenly felt the meaning of my visit and retreated back into his chair. He punctuated the silence.
“What are you doing here, Dom?” I paused, wondering how to phrase this without inviting a lot of questions.
“I think we found a way home. It’s a job for some very very powerful people. People who I believe can fix my charges permanently. But I need your help.”
“You’re here to corrupt one of my best and brightest.” He taunted me by brandishing the end of his pen.
“You know what I’m offering, you have to let them decide for themselves.”
“Money.”
“Not just money. You remember, the chance to build cathedrals, entire cities, things that never existed. Things that couldn’t exist in the real world.”
“So, you want me to let someone else, follow you into your fantasy.”
“They won’t actually come into the dream. They just design the levels and teach them to the dreamers.”
“Design it yourself.”
“Mal won’t let me.” I saw his face droop at the mention of her. Already sighing at the sight of my delusion.
“What about y/n, she was always better than you were anyway.”
“She refuses. She’ll help with a maze or a paradox occasionally when she gets bored of our architects incompetence, but she won’t build herself anymore. I don’t know why. She won’t tell me.” He sat forward in his chair. Eyes pleading with me to bring y/n home.
“Come back to reality. Please.”
“Those kids are waiting for their father and sister to come home. That’s their reality. This job-this last job- that’s how we get there. I would not be standing here if I knew another way. I need an architect who is as good as I was.”
“I’ve got someone better.”
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
“Ariadne?” A perky petite girl runs to meet Miles’ inviting hand. “I’d like you to meet Mr Cobb.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“If you have a few moments, Mr Cobb has a job offer he’d like to discuss with you.”
“A work placement?”
“Not exactly.”
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
*your pov*
I made it to the warehouse and walked in to see Arthur fiddling with different pieces of equipment.
“You look funny handling tech equipment in that suit.” I loudly teased to get his attention.
He turned towards me with a smile. “Thought you’d be with Cobb and the new recruit.”
“He can do it without me; besides I didn’t fancy the third degree from grandad.”
“He’s just protective. This job isn’t exactly made for you.”
“What? You don’t think I can handle myself?”
“Oh, don’t worry I know you can. The scar on my eye proves it.” We laughed together in a way we hadn’t done in a while. I’d always found comfort around Arthur. When I first left with my dad, I was young and innocent. I had no idea what I’d signed up for. So, once we started working with Arthur I began to loosen up a little as I felt I had someone I could truly trust. Yes, there were people like Eames who came around for the odd job and who I could rely on on the mission. But Arthur was different. I trusted him in a way that encapsulated my whole heart.
We began to unpack the equipment, preparing for when dad would be back to introduce the new recruit to dream-walking. I had just found some old deck chairs stuffed at the back that I dragged to the centre. They made a horrible squeak as the metal scraped on concrete.
“Are you okay?” Arthur pondered.
“Yeah why?”
“Just after Nash and that last job, I worried you would shut down.”
“This could be Dad’s chance to clear his name, I got no time to shut down.” I put on a confidence and winked his way before punching his arm as I passed for good measure.
“Anyways,” I spoke facing the window. “It’s not like I’ve not dealt with that before. It’s old news.”
“I know.” Arthur said solemnly, refusing to look my way. “But you shouldn’t.”
“Well, it happened, it happens, and it’s going to happen again.” I giggled through my tear-filled eyes. I felt Arthur’s presence behind me, bringing me into the lightest hug.
“You know I’m here for you. And if you don’t want to tell your dad when it happens, that’s fine but promise you’ll at least tell me. You know I love giving a guy a good punch, especially on your behalf.”
I turned around in his arms and found our noses almost touching.
“Thank you, Arthur. My knight in shining armour.” I could see the muscles in his neck strain as he very gently leaned in. I copied and moved until our lips softly grazed.
*SCREEEEECH*
We jumped back from each other, in a spook.
“That’ll be them I guess.” I quickly fled the scene and brushed my fingers against my lips. That was about to happen, wasn’t it?
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-                                                                                                
Ariadne gasped as she awoke. Her eyes were flamed, and her pupils darted around the room, trying to make sense of it all. The music bubbled throughout the room adding a flare of theatrics to the situation. This was her second time under, so I assumed her jerk meant she hadn’t woken up in the most pleasant way.
“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Arthur quickly reassured her. Calming her down through gentle caresses.
“Why didn’t I wake up?”
I answered whilst making sure Dad was okay. “Because there was still time on the clock, and you can’t wake up from a dream unless you die.”
“She’ll need a totem.” Dad announced, already leaving the room.
“Dad give her a minute, geez.”
“What? Dad? Wait what?” Ariadne was shaken and looked between Cobb, and I confused.
“A totem it’s a small, personal-“
“That’s some subconscious you’ve got on you, Cobb! She’s a real charmer.”
“Ah I see you met my mom.”
“She’s, his wife?” She asked breathlessly, looking up at me. I nodded sadly.
“So, a totem, you need a small object, potentially heavy, something you can have on you all the time.” Ariadne covered her eyes to mentally acknowledge what she had just been through. I knew none of Arthur’s words were registering. It was too soon. She needed to go away so she can see how addicting it feels. I remembered my first time. I was so scared, but it was a delicious fear. “Something that no one else knows.”
“Like a coin?”
“No, it needs to be more unique than that. Like this is a loaded die,” Arthur brought out his totem, similar to mine. “I can’t let you touch it, see that would defeat the purpose. Only I know the balance and the weight of this loaded die. That way when you look at your totem, you know that you’re not in someone else’s dream.” I stuck my hand in my pocket to feel my own. It was a picture of me, James, and Philippa but it has a small mistake on it. In the picture I have braces, when in reality I’ve never worn them.
I left Arthur and Ariadne to talk and went to check on my dad. He had the spinning top again. We both watched it spin out, helpless to do anything else. When it fell, he loudly exhaled. I knew he had to do it, I just didn’t know why.
We both re-joined Arthur to find that the girl had left. It was probably all too much for such little time. And any run in with Mal’s projection would make anyone uneasy.
“She’ll be back. I’ve never seen anyone pick it up that quickly before.”
“I’ll try not to be offended.” I said with a smirk. Dad kissed my forehead. “Of course, except you, sweetie.”
“Reality’s not gonna be enough for her now, I remember the feeling.”
“When she comes back, you’re gonna have her building mazes.”
“Where are you gonna be?”
“I gotta go visit Eames.” I quietly clapped and celebrated in the corner. Eames was my favourite person to work with and we’ve always had a great partnership since our first time when I was only 15. He was the one who taught me impersonation and forgery, much to my dad’s admiration. If Arthur was like my uncle, then Eames was my rebellious older brother, letting me get away with anything I wanted.
“Eames? No, he’s in Mombasa, it’s Cobol’s backyard.”
“It’s a necessary risk.”
“Well, there’s plenty of good thieves.”
“We don’t just need a thief. We need a forger.”
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
Arthur had reluctantly gone home for the night. I promised him I would be fine sleeping in the warehouse since my dad was away. He didn’t trust me, but he knew he couldn’t argue with me. I mean I didn’t lie. I did want to sleep.
I got myself comfortable on the deck chair and let the sedative seep into my veins.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
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*your dream space*
I opened my eyes in the lobby of the hotel. Over the years I had fashioned my subconscious in this specifically navigable layout. I could bury things on different floors, and revisit things in different rooms.
It was empty. Just how I liked it. Projections of your mind are easier to get rid of than you think. I clipped my heels all the way down to the large metal elevator. I entered into the 1920s style tiled lift and looked at the numbers. -3, -2, -1, 0, 1, 2, 3.
My painted finger pressed harshly down into ‘1’.
The lift rung to life and pushed me up into the crevices of my mind. And as quickly as it started the doors were back open on to a brightly lit white corridor. The hall was as clean and perfect as I wanted to keep these memories. I opened up the door ‘101’.
Inside I saw James, Philippa and I dancing at the beach. As my projection pushes her feet through the sand, I curl my toes as I feel it soft beneath me. We are running about playing a game of tig as mom and dad look on from the picnic blanket laid out with food. The colours have faded like an old photograph, and I struggle to make out the different faces.
I decided to jump ahead a little and reach for room ‘111’.
I walk hand in hand down a beautifully decorated woodland path. Mom and dad flank me on either side. I stand tall, a child of 11, in the midst of my very own dream. That was the first time. Like the previous one it’s colours have all but gone.
I hurry back into the elevator and change the floor to number ‘2’.
This floor is harshly painted yellow, and its lights flicker incessantly. I trudge down the disgustingly patterned carpet to room ‘204’. My hand questions itself as it reaches for the handle. The door flies open into the living room of our house. I stand face to face with my mother in all her beauty. She is shouting.
“You are not my daughter; don’t you think I’d know if you were.”
My young voice shakes as it answers. “Mom, please, it’s me. You have to believe me.”
“You. Are. Not. Real.”
Her hand grasps the kitchen knife and raises it. I slam the door shut and hear the yelp of my self projection. I wait to calm my heavy breathing. I don’t want to remember her like this but it’s the only room she frequents now.
My limp body returns to the lift, and I finally reach for ‘3’. The box whirrs to life and almost gently raises me up into the final floor. This is my newest creation, where I store the unexplained and the prophetic.
I walk out onto the beautiful sage green corridor, adorned with expensive antique decorations. I make my way to room ‘301’. The door softly creaks open, and my eyes are blinded by a white light filtering in from an open window. The transparent net curtain hinders my eyeline. But in front of me I see the silhouette of a man. He is only wearing a pair of briefs and I am able to make out the lean but structured outline of his body. His hair is thick and luscious. A few chocolate strands have fallen to kiss his sharp cheekbones. I struggle to discern a face, yet I still feel stuck in this man’s gaze. Like his eyes have me in their grip. I push my way through the netting, but it works against me, rooting me to the spot. I struggle and I struggle. The constraint of the curtain becoming too much to bear. It’s difficult to breathe in my panic.
“Are you alright?” The strangers voice is the last thing I hear permeating the darkness before I’m woken up by the clock. The sedative wore off.
I sat there for a minute, gathering my breath. He was there. Again. He’s always there. No matter what I build, or where I hide, he finds a way through.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
I wonder who that mysterious man could be ;)
taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage
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