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#anyway I’m clearly tired and bitter so I’m gonna go to sleep
morelikedoccock · 2 years
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Just exhausted/angry rambling
I’m so tired of fandom discourse
Like, over ships, over characters, over kinks, etc
I just wanna have fun again, just making art and writing and enjoying other people’s art and writing— and ignoring/blocking when I don’t like something
I hate having to think about whether or not I can join a discord bc I have beef with people who are in it, or worrying that they’d have beef with me
I just wanna be able to be casually in a space existing, without a story or shitty fandom discourse in my past
Yeah I did mod that server way back when by choice, but fuck if I’d known what that experience was gonna do to me and my friends and how shittily it was gonna affect our fandom experiences, I would’ve said “to hell with it, let it burn” and let the two original mods and creator deal with all the shit that we ended up having to deal with instead of them, the fucking hate anons, the shitty and stupid rumors, the stalking and harassment, etc
And yeah I’m just… I don’t want my name or my work to be associated with fandom discourse. I just wanna be able to explore fandom without worrying about picking sides and shit. I do still feel very strongly about certain things and naturally would not want to talk to people who are into them, but also like nuance exists in the world, and I am nuanced too, nothing here is fucking cut and dry
Idk my brain is weird rn but I’m just frustrated and I wish people were more decent on the internet, just blocking and moving on instead of being dicks about stuff
#cerbin rambles#cerbin speaks#discourse#rant#rant in tags#nothing specific has happened recently but I’ve just been thinking#I don’t like being the middle ground for opposing sides on a topic#it’s like being torn in half and I’m just trying to chill#also lmao I saw a tumblr post about that discord ‘reopening’ and I laughed a little to myself#never fucking again#that place has way too many assholes in it and I have no intention of ever going back#I like my fandom spaces to be made up of other nuanced and understanding and decent adults#not teenagers who like to be c*nts on the internet for shits n giggles#anyway I’m clearly tired and bitter so I’m gonna go to sleep#just saying if you’ve ever been nice to me/understanding/polite and/or given me a second chance to clear up misunderstandings#you are lovely and important and even if I don’t remember it now I can promise you that it meant a lot to me at the time#and still does I just have a shit memory#anyway I’m off to sleep#also wouldn’t rec that discord to anyone#there’s better and more well-cared for discords out there#and I know for a fact that there’s still people in there who are not very polite or easy to be in the same space with#but also it’s none of my business at this point lmao#go hard go ham but I’m just too tired for the bullshit#also if you send me hate for this I’m just gonna delete it#I’ll probably also wonder why you’re even bothering instead of you guessed it blocking and moving on
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moxfirefly · 3 years
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Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!
As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.
TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments
Rated Explicit (18+ only)
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His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.
Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.
But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.
But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.
It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.
Surrounded by normalcy.
And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...
But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.
His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.
And fuck, three months of you away?!
Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.
Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?
He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!
It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.
He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.
Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.
It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.
You’re there.
Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.
“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.
“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?
“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?
He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.
You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.
Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.
“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.
“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.
“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.
Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.
Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.
He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.
There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.
He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.
The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.
You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.
So you do.
Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.
That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.
You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.
Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.
You say it too, against his skin.
Where you wish you could stay everyday.
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katzkinder · 3 years
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Little Boy Blue
Mahiru is tired.
Kuro can see it, in the way his folding isn’t as neat, in the way the vegetables in their dinner aren’t as uniformly chopped, in the way his head bobs during school lessons, his laughter isn’t as loud, how he doesn’t check half so well before he crosses the street and needs the ever watchful hand of Sakuya to drag him back from the curb, a shout on the subclass’s lips, scolding and fussing about the car that had just whizzed past their little group.
Mahiru is tired, but he refuses to rest.
And it’s driving Kuro mad.
It’s as Mahiru is jerked and prodded, worried and fussed over by his trio of school friends, that Kuro makes a decision.
His Eve will get some sleep, whether he wants to or not.
Thankfully for him, he knows Mahiru wants it. The frustrating part is that his stupid, incredible, wonderful human doesn’t think he’s earned it. Not yet. Not when there was still more to do.
Which meant, joy of joys… He needed some help.
Good thing he had three ready made volunteers right there with him on the curb.
Now to convince them.
***
The easiest part, by far, was getting them to go along with his plan. Slipping into Mahiru’s bag to use the cellphone Tooru had bought him (every time he thought about it, he still couldn’t believe it. His own phone, his own clothes, his own games, his own… Everything, really), he sent a single text to three different numbers.
Mahiru’s exhausted. Help me get him to chill out?
The hard part…
“Hey, Mahiru! It’s been a while since we all last had a sleepover, right?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it has…”
“Since we’re already going to be walking you home to make sure you don’t wander out into traffic…”
“It was an accident!”
“Party at Mahiru-sama’s place~!”
“Would you stop with that stupid… Fine! But Sakkun is paying for the food!”
… Wasn’t actually that hard? But, well. Leave it to the grungy joker to just… Steamroll his way into Mahiru’s place, invited or not. And become a steamed cabbage in the process.
The power of Mahiru-sama is frightening indeed…
***
The first order of business when the five of them arrive at Mahiru’s apartment is taken care of handily by, once again, Sakuya.
“Pizza time!” he crows, tapping the order into a website Kuro only vaguely recognizes the name of. It’s not a delivery app, but the website’s own page, and while he’s busy with that, Kuro hops out of Mahiru’s bag, ready to go fetch blankets and pillows from the linen closet in order to set them all up.
Except Mahiru’s two human friends beat him to it.
All the better, he thinks, as he hops up onto the couch to watch them spread things out right in front of the TV. The living room is small, the area they’ve chosen to occupy even more so, but it’s what he would have chosen for Mahiru, too, to cram them all together, to surround his Eve with the simple pressure and warmth of his loved ones crowded close.
Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Kuro is so… Grateful for Mahiru’s friends. Before him, and even after him, they will love Mahiru like a brother, like a family, know him in ways he can’t, the same way Gear knows him in ways Mahiru never will.
And that’s fine. To be known is to be loved, and more than anyone, Mahiru deserves it.
“Mahiru, can you help Ryuu-chan? I’m gonna go make sure Sakuya doesn’t burn your kitchen down trying to make popcorn.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m always the one who makes the popcorn when Shamrock can’t!”
“And how much of it do you burn?”
“Less than you, so nyeh.”
… Maybe he should go watch them.
“Ah, Kuro, don’t get your fur on the counter!”
“Can’t deal…”
At the least, Mahiru seems to already be feeling better. It’s like magic. The best kind Kuro has ever seen.
***
Kuro spends the night as a cat, nestled in Mahiru’s lap or lying across his back, little paws kneading his Eve’s flesh and purring up a storm, extra sweet and extra soothing, while the other three pile around them. Mahiru is… Quiet. But not a bad quiet, no. A good quiet, letting the presence of the other people in their home wash over him, their bickering and their teasing, not a host but just a friend, just another kid, a kid with greasy fingers and a half drunk bottle of cola and two boxes of extra large pepperoni pizzas with cheesy bread set out before them.
“Where the heck do you find these pizza places I’ve never heard of?” Ryuusei asks after a particularly long cheese stretch has him craning his head back and holding his arms out, making the other three laugh, “This is great.”
“Vampire SNS,” Sakuya tells him proudly, and snickers once more at the tongue click it nets him.
Much to Kuro’s surprise, after building their little nest, the green haired vampire had graciously given up his preferred spot next to Mahiru without a word, instead settling himself shoulder to shoulder with the short one, Ryuusei, while he and Koyuki had pressed themselves up against Mahiru like they were trying to merge with him. It’s a tangle of arms and legs, like cats lying one on top of the other, physical closeness that speaks volumes of the emotional one they’ve cultivated with each other, and which they were slowly, Kuro felt, trying to ease him into.
It was a strange feeling. Being included.
But it wasn’t one he hated by any means.
Ryuusei flops his head against Mahiru’s arm, cheek squishing ridiculously as he squints at the screen. “Who picked this again?”
The crunching from Mahiru’s right stops, and a bowl of half eaten popcorn, buttery and with the perfect amount of salt, is nudged his Eve’s way. Wordlessly, Mahiru grabs up a big handful of it, stuffs it in his mouth with a knowing little smile, a sort of carelessness Kuro can never seem to invoke on his own.
The shuffling of fabric, and Koyuki leans onto Mahiru’s shoulder as well, the barest hint of a pout to his voice. “Does it matter? Even bad movies are fun when we’re together.”
“You’re cheesier than this pizza,” Sakuya teases, and Mahiru grins, laughs, finally says something, the exhaustion all but gone from his voice.
“That means Koyuki definitely picked it.”
“So you’re the one responsible!” Ryuusei shouts, and Koyuki flicks popcorn at him, bounces it right off his head.
“Shut up! You can change it, y’know.”
“Well, we’re already this far in,” Mahiru muses, and Sakuya quietly plucks the floor tainted popcorn up to place on a napkin, “Might as well finish it.”
Kuro is… So glad that Mahiru has friends who can do this for him. To do the things he can’t. This sense of total normalcy, of being just another teenager… It’s not really something he can help with. Not really. He knows he’s the type to overthink, to become discouraged when his efforts don’t get immediate results.
But now Mahiru is laughing again.
It’s everything he could have asked for.
***
Hours upon hours later, the only light in the room is from the flickering TV screen, and the only sounds are the soft breaths of four teenage boys, fast asleep right there on the floor.
Kuro finally rouses himself, gets up, stretches, and carefully picks his way down Mahiru’s back. Only then does he allow himself to transform back into a human, cracking his neck, his back, and sighing heavily at the relief it grants his stiff joints.
It’s time to get to work. All that effort would be meaningless if Mahiru woke to a mess, so clean up crew Kuro shall be.
First go the soda bottles. Back into the fridge, without a label or a care for who had drunk from what, because it’s not like those four cared anyway, but Mahiru hated to waste food. Honestly, Kuro was in agreement on that much, but especially when it came to his favorites. So, twisting each cap tightly back into place, he made sure to set them up in plain sight so that they’d be finished in the morning (and if not by their owners, by him), blocking the light of the fridge with his own body and the tails of his coat so as not to disturb the quartet of friends.
Next were the pizza boxes. Each one was completely empty, but that was no surprise, given that there were two shared between the five of them. Even the little banana peppers included had been devoured. If Kuro had to guess… Mahiru. For some godforsaken reason, his Eve adored things that set his mouth on fire, and no amount of “it’s not that spicy!” would change Kuro’s opinion that Mahiru, sweet faced, stubborn, wonderful Mahiru, just wanted to see what the fires of hell tasted like.
(And maybe he was a bit of a baby when it came to peppers, but clearly that wasn’t his fault)
Onto the counters the pizza boxes went.
Next came the bowl of popcorn, filled with nothing but unpopped kernels, then the plates, then the napkins, then the painstaking process of picking up every infernal piece of popped corn that had been jokingly thrown about between friends with zero thought for who would have to clean it up all up.
Considering how many Sakuya had tossed, he had a feeling the other vampire had known Kuro would take it upon himself to tidy up their garbage, and found himself cracking an annoyed, if fond, smile.
Little brat.
Mess more or less taken care of, Kuro had one last task to complete, and fetching the fluffiest quilt he could find from the closet that hadn’t already been used to pad out the hard tile in front of their TV, he carefully, carefully, spread it out over the pile of sleeping boys. Not a one stirred, not even Mahiru.
His smile turned ever so slightly bitter.
Well, that was fine. That was good, even, because it meant that, more than he’d thought, Mahiru had needed this night, this little slice of being normal, of simplicity.
Looking at each face in turn… He thought that maybe, all of them had.
Himself included.
Tucking himself into the crook of Mahiru’s neck was easy, a warm, furry weight that had his Eve curling up even more, ever so slightly, setting off a chain reaction as each teenager also shifted, one or two murmuring in their sleep, shuffling closer to each other like small birds seeking safety and comfort during a storm.
And that was fine, too. Kuro would watch over their dreams, every one.
Sleep tight, guys. Sweet dreams...
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Text
Love and Medicine ~ 12
MASTERLIST
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< previous chapter
Word Count: 2,815ish
Summary: You are still trying to cope with the fact that Steve’s married. (Read note at the end of the chapter.)
I do not own Grey’s Anatomy or Marvel.
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You and Natasha eventually found your way back to your house and into your bedroom’s adjoining bathroom. Natasha was in the bathtub as you laid on the floor.
“It's not us. It's them,” you said. “Them and their stupid boy penises. They didn't tell me they had a wife. They gave absolutely no warning that they were going to break up with you.”
“It's not that Banner broke up with me,” Natasha began. “It's how he broke up with me. Like it was business. Like it was a business transition like he's the boss of me!”
“He is the boss of you.”
“And what's worse is that I care.”
"I'm gonna throw up again.” You moved so that you were leaned over the toilet bowl. "No. Wait. False alarm.”
“Look, the problem is estrogen.”
“No, the problem is tequila.”
“I used to be all business, and then he goes and gets me pregnant.”
“With the stupid boy penis.”
“Now, I'm having hormone surges. He ruined me. I'm ruined. He turned me into this fat, stupid, pregnant girl. Who cares! Estrogen!”
Having heard the commotion from your bathroom, Val, Scott, and Clint found themselves standing in the doorway.
“Penises,” you stated. “Penises Val.”
“Estrogen, Scott. Estrogen,” Nat added.
“Okay…” Scott said, looking around. “What did I miss?”
“I came home to full on vomit drama,” Val explained. “Apparently she dumped Derek and her—“ Val pointed Nat’s way. “She’s been sleeping with Banner!”
“What?”
“So you really broke up with Rogers?” Clint asked.
“I feel empty,” you responded.
“Two hours of vomiting will do that to you,” Val said with a shrug.
“You’re lucky,” Nat added. “I feel pissed off.”
~~~
Arriving in the parking garage, you could clearly see Steve waiting for you. Getting out of your car, you slammed the door as he came closer.
“Stop,” you growled at him.
“What?” Steve questioned, pretending to be all innocent.
“You're stalking me. Stop it.” You continued into the building with Steve following you.
“Did we not communicate last night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear what I was saying?”
“Your wife screwed your best friend.”
“And then from that point on she no longer existed to me anymore.”
“You had marital amnesia?”
“No.” Steve reached out and grabbed your arm, successfully stopping you. “Come on I bared my soul to you last night.”
“It's not enough.”
“How can that be not enough?”
“When you waited 2 months to tell me and I had to find out by her showing up, all leggy and fabulous and telling me herself, you pulled the plug. I'm a sink with an open drain. Anything that you say runs right out. There is no enough.” You pulled away hurrying inside with your friends after you.
“She probably could've picked a better metaphor,” Clint commented.
“Give her a break,” Scott said. “She’s got a hangover.”
With a huff, Steve followed. Tony, who was also coming in, quickly caught up to him.
“Dr. Rogers!” He called.
“Dr. Stark,” Steve replied.
“We have an organ donor coming in this afternoon. We're doing a harvest.”
“Commendable, but—“
“In OR one at four.”
“I’m in OR one at four.”
“Your surgery is non-critical.”
“You can’t bump me!”
“As Chief, I can. You’ll be first up tomorrow.”
“Interim Chief. Bump somebody else!”
“You’re in the OR we need.”
“Why can’t the harvest be done somewhere else?”
“Cause the donor’s coming in from a small facility. We have the location, the airport nearby and the staff. Your surgery is rescheduled.” Then Tony turned, heading away.
“I’m not done talking about this, Stark!”
“Well, I am! See ya around Rogers!”
~~~
Rounds weren’t too bad, especially because you successfully ignored both Peggy and Steve. It even became slightly better when Gamora called you in for a bowel obstruction. Except the guy wouldn’t tell you what he ingested.
“You know, Mr. Sanders, it would be easier if you just told us what you ingested,” you pried, taking him to radiology. “We’ll know anyone, once we see the films.”
“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Mr. Sanders responded.
“Mr. Sanders, whatever you’ve ingested could kill you. Are you sure you don’t just want to tell me?”
“It might offend you.”
“It might? Is it drugs?”
“No.”
“Mr. Sanders.”
“It’s not drugs, I promise.”
“Well, good, I’m glad.”
“I… Nope, not going to tell you.”
“Fine by me. We just reached radiology, so I’m going to find out anyway.”
It wasn’t long before Mr. Sanders was back in his room and the radiologist had found you with the scans.
“It’s drugs,” the radiologist stated handing the scans over to you. “Looks like at least 13 small balloons in the bowel. My guess, cocaine.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, holding up the scans up to the light. 
They didn’t totally look like balloons, so you weren’t completely convinced. Before you made any judgement calls, you found Gamora.
“It’s drugs,” you told her, handing her the scans. 
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, placing the scans onto a screen. “One burst and he’s dead in minutes. Okay, what do we do?”
“Run his bowel.”
“And what does that mean?”
“Running the bowel entails removing all 36 feet of the intestine from the body cavity, hand searching for the balloons and then cutting them out.”
“Good. Book an OR and get two other interns on board, need all the hands we can get.”
“Dr. Gamora,” Y/N called as Gamora tired to leave. 
“Yes?”
“Are you sure they’re balloons?”
“You have reason to believe they’re not?”
“Well, the more I look the more I realize that this one,” you pointed to the scans, “has a face.” Gamora looked closer. “And this one… they all do.”
“I’ll be damned. They’re Barbies. He swallowed 13 Barbie doll heads.”
~~~
“Barbie heads?” Scott repeated after you told him, Natasha, and Peter what happened.
“Yeah,” you responded. “And Gamora wants two of you to join us in surgery.”
“I’m already booked.”
“I can do it,” Natasha said.
“Me too,” Peter said.
“My foster mothers used to buy me Barbie dolls. All sorts of them.”
“I also wanted one,” you added. “My parents never let me.”
“I dissected them. Cut off their arms, shaved their heads.”
“You’re a little scary,” Scott stated. “You know that?”
“I try.”
“Sounds like there’s a sick and twisted story behind this,” Peter said.
“No, they’re sexist, distorted devil toys that create unrealistic expectations carrying to the porn driven minds of men,” Natasha expressed.
“You swallow a bitter pill this morning, Romanoff?” Gamora questioned, coming up to you interns. “They’re just dolls. Quill, call for a psych consult. Then see if he has family.”
“Should I still book the OR?” You wondered.
“Blocked bowels become necrotic bowels. Check with Dr. Stark, see if we can bump someone. Those Barbies gotta come out today.”
~~~
Gamora had given Clint the impossible assignment to revive a patient. And, unfortunately for him, he was stuck with Laura.
“Any family members waiting?” He asked as he stapled up the man’s chest.
“Still trying to reach them,” Laura responded.
“Good. Well, I mean, not good that we haven’t reached anyone. Good that I don’t have to, uh…”
“It’s always hard.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry about Peter.”
“It’s fine. It’s good. No need to talk about it.”
“You do understand that I had sex with him before you, not during, right? Because when you and I were together—“
“I understand.”
“I just wanted to clear the air.”
“Oh, it’s clear. Perfectly clear… okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“And about the syphilis—“
“We really on’t have to talk about it.”
“Which is, I mean, I didn’t know I had it. I definitely should have, I’m a nurse. Like, there was a sore and I was all itchy.”
“Okay!” He backed away almost knocked the tray beside him over. “You know I, uh, got it. You know things happen.” He moved to the door, away from Laura.
“They really do. Things you wish you could change.”
Clint’s pager rang and he looked down. “It’s the Chief, I gotta take this.”
“Sure… Clint.”
“Yes?”
“You have to call it.”
“Call it?”
“Him.”
“Oh, yeah.” He looked at his watch. “Time of death 1:37.” He turned to leave again.
“And, Clint,” he paused, not turning around this time, “if we could, I wouldn’t mind trying again.”
“Maybe… some day…”
~~~
Tony was walking down the hall with Maria, going over the donor surgery.
“When is the donor getting here?” He asked.
“Should be here at 3. Harvest team’s not heir way in.”
“I also need to touch base with the transplant center about a patient here getting his son’s liver.”
You walked up. “Dr. Stark,” you called. “Dr. Gamora needs an OR and they’re all booked.”
“For?”
“An emergent bowel obstruction.” She handed him the scans.
“Drugs?”
“Barbie heads. 13 of them.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
Maria looked at the films. “I can see their little faces,” she commented. “That patient must have serious issues.”
“Hill, can your hernia in 1 be bumped?” Tony asked.
“Most likely.”
“Do it.”
“On it.” Maria left.
“Thank you, Dr. Stark,” you said, moving to go.
Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you. “Y/N, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not. I’m really fine.” And you pulled away.
~~~
You, Gamora, and a doctor from psych were currently discussing the psych evaluation on Mr. Sanders.
“He’s not talking. It could be pica,” the psych doctor stated. “Doubtful for a man his age. Maybe an oedipal complex or an idolization of the doll as his partners. Or it could be that he simply enjoys it.”
“Now I've seen a lot of strange things in strange places but how does he enjoy this?” Gamora questioned.
“He’d enjoy it when they came out.”
“I didn’t need to hear that.”
“Dr. L/N,” Peggy called as she walked back. “May I speak with you for a moment?” You looked at Gamora for help.
“Don’t look at me. I’m not gonna help you.”
With a sigh, you went to Peggy and the two of you began walking away.
“I assume he told you why he left me,” she said.
Annoyed, you stopped in front of her. “Look, Dr. Rogers, will all do respect, this has nothing to do with me,” you said.
“Really? So you didn’t take him back. Good girl.”
“And int he future, I’d appreciate it if we could keep our relationship strictly professional.” You walked away.
“Y/N!” You stopped and turned back slightly to give Peggy your attention. “Sometimes people do desperate things to get someone’s attention.” You shook your head and started walking again. “There are two sides to every story!”
~~~
You, Peter, and Scott arrived at lunch first. The three of you picked a large table farthest away from the others.
“Look what I went out and got,” Peter said, putting a grocery bag on the table.  Opening the bag, he revealed 13 headless Barbie dolls.
“Really, Quill?” You wondered.
“That’s gross,” Scott cringed.
“I think it’s funny,” Peter said, smiling, as he laid them out on the table.
“Of course you do,” you muttered.
“Oh! That is sick!” Clint commented as him, Natasha, and Val walked up.
“Who would do that?” Val asked. They looked to see Peter smiling.
“Oh, look!” Natasha said, picking up a doll. “See Barbie fly.” She throw it at Peter, who ducked.
“Hey, Clint,” Laura greeted, walking by.
“Hey,” he replied, sitting down at not looking at you. The interns all gave him a look. “What?”
“She was trying to make up with you, Clint,” you told him. “You should go eat with her.”
“No, I shouldn’t…. No.”
“She’s cute and she likes you,” Scott said.
“You shouldn’t let a little syph get in the way of that,” Val added.
“It’s not the syph,” Clint insisted.
“It’s so the syph,” Natasha said.
“It’s not the syph!”
“Then what is it?” Val asked. Clint didn’t answer, looking down. “Oh.”
“What?” You wondered. Clint simply shrugged. “What is it?”
“There’s this other girl,” Val responded.
“Val!” Clint exclaimed.
“Other girl?” Natasha questioned. “You have another girl?!”
“He hasn’t told her that he likes her yet,” Val said.
“Val!” Clint exclaimed again. “This isn’t high school.”
“Clint has a little crush.”
“I do not… It’s a thing, a very personal thing. One day I would like to build on this thing with this other girl—woman. She’s all woman.”
“What are you doing, Clint?” You asked, slightly harsh.
“I-I don’t—“
“With Laura. What are you doing with her?”
“Oh. Nothing.”
“You’re letting her think you’re emotionally available. You’re letting her think she has a chance. And there is nothing worse in the world than think you have a chance when you really don’t!”
“Y/N is right,” Natasha said. “Tell her that there’s someone else. And tell her why, Clint. I mean— I mean at least give her the chance to have some feelings about it!”
“Why are you both yelling at me?” Clint asked.
“Because of the estrogen Clint! Because of all the estrogen!”
~~~
“Was it an act of desperation?” You asked Mr. Sanders as you headed into his surgery.
“Not at all,” he replied.
“Something to attract attention?”
“No.”
“I’m just trying to understand here. Why 13 doll heads?”
“Well because 14 would’ve been too much.”
You cringed and helped the nurses get Mr. Sanders on the operating table before going to scrub. It was Gamora, you, Peter, Val, and Natasha in the surgery.
“I think it has something to do with his mother,” Val suggested. “Maybe she always wanted a girl and gave him Barbie dolls because of it.”
“Ah, ah, I’ve got another one,” Peter said, showing the head in the intestine.
“Uh!” You groaned.
“Doyen clamps to Romanoff,” Gamora ordered. “L/N, push the head up to the incision.” You began to squeeze the doll head up through the intestine.
“Maybe his mother looked like a Barbie doll and he’s into voodoo,” Peter suggested. “Instead of sticking pins in… well…”
Dr. Stark entered the OR. “You good here?” He asked Gamora, observing you though.
“Couple more heads to go,” Gamora responded.
“Then L/N stay here. All you other interns I need you on other cases.”
You met Tony’s eyes before he walked out of the OR.
~~~
Clint was put on a case with Steve. They were about to go separate ways so that Clint could run labs, when Steve stopped. He looked back at Clint.
“Is she okay?” Steve asked.
“Who?” Clint questioned. He looked up at Steve and knew. “Y/N? She’s… hanging in there.”
“Look out for her.”
“I will.”
Then Steve walked away. Before Clint could get really far, Laura found him.
“The family of the guy we worked on this morning is here,” she told him.
“Thanks for letting me know,” Clint responded.
“Clint, I just want an answers, so that I can get on with my life if I need to.”
“Look, maybe I’m not over the Peter thing yet or the syph thing… And I really want to be, but there’s also another girl. And, to me, it doesn’t matter there’s this other guy and frankly I wouldn’t care if she gave me the Ebola virus… I like you, Laura, I really do. Just… I—“
“You’re going to need some time.”
“Yeah.” He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for understanding.”
~~~
Steve was standing alone in the elevator when Peggy walked in, both dressed to leave.
“Just when the day was improving,” he murmured.
“You told Y/N what happened?” Peggy asked.
“I did. Why? What did you tell her?”
“That sometimes people do desperate things to attract attention.”
“What? Wow. That's your side of this? That I didn't pay you enough attention. Is that you were thinking when you got naked with my best friend?”
Peggy reached over and stopped the elevator. "No, by that point I wasn't thinking at all Steve. By that point I was just scratching an itch. We got successful you and me. We got busy and we got lazy. We didn't even bother to fight any more Steve. And Bucky was there and I missed you. And now I'm sorry.” Steve restarted the elevator. “I’m more sorry than you can possibly imagine. But at least I'm talking to you about it.” The doors opened and Steve walked out. “Steve.”
“I’m a sink with an open drain, honey.”
~~~
“Did you get them all?” Mr. Sanders asked. You were checking on him, post-surgery.
“Yes,” you replied. “It wasn’t easy or very pleasant. How do you feel?”
“Empty… I feel empty now.”
“Yeah. I've been feeling a little bit of that myself lately.”
“I can tell.”
“Mr. Sanders, why does eating doll heads fill you up? What’s the satisfaction?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Would it be too much information?”
“Might.”
“Maybe I’m better left in the dark.”
next chapter >
I leave for Disney World in a week. It is the last big family vacation that I will be on for a while. Because of that, I will not be on tumblr March 19th through March 24th. I will actually be deleting the app so that it’s not a distraction.
Most likely, nothing will be posted during that time. If something is, it will have been queued up. Things that are posted while I’m out of town will not have tag lists attached. I will put this note in all the fic posts until then.
So do not come at me for spending time with my family instead of including the tag list. (I say that knowing that people won’t care and still come at me.... be respectful and get over yourself.)
If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.
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therealvalkyrie · 3 years
Text
Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 1.5
portraiture and speculation
Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU
Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: mentions of insomnia, slight angst, swearing, and idk libraries?? ‘Tis not a heavy one
AN: So this is a mini-chapter, entirely Levi’s POV, hopefully to give some more background/insight into what homeboy’s thinking. And we get some Hange in this chapter which I had so much fun writing:)) Thank you for the wonderful comments on the last chapter and again, please don’t hesitate to reblog/comment/send in an ask with any suggestions, questions, or feedback!! ~valkyrie
(read Part 1 here)
In the hierarchy of genres established by the Academy, history painting was at the top and portraiture came next. Artists aspired to elevate the importance of…
Levi takes a slow sip of tea while his eyes glide over the article in front of him: the latest reading for his European Art History class. His mouth twitches at the bitter taste of over-brewed Earl Grey. The library cafe never seems to be able to get tea right, but he was desperate for some caffeine to push him through a couple more hours of studying.
...female members of the royal family have been depicted as goddesses…
Fuck. Levi’s brain had gotten away from him again. I have no idea what I just read.
With a deep sigh and adjustment of his posture, Levi starts the paragraph again.
In the hierarchy of genres established by the Academy, history painting was at the top and portraiture…
The portrait in his room flickers into his mind’s eye. Nearly complete, his mother’s smiling face stares back at him. The stormy grey of her eyes had taken Levi a week to remember and another to perfect. Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he sits cross-legged on his bed facing her and wondering if it’s truly an accurate depiction. In his best memories, she is warm and smiling and beautiful. Levi can’t help but wonder if somehow he’s written over his mother’s true features with an invention of his own; some sort of collage of the kind women in his life. He had caught himself painting Hange’s wide smile instead of his mother’s once, and he hadn’t worked on the portrait for a month after. If he was going to ever do it justice, he had to be certain it was as close to his actual memory as possible.
The end of the page jars Levi out of a reverie, and once again he hasn’t retained any of what he just read. Leaning back in his chair with a frustrated groan, he allows the ambient noise of the library to drift back into his consciousness.
The beeping from the front desk as a librarian scans books. The thunk of someone’s metal water bottle on a table. A spirited discussion between two professors in line at the cafe. Levi can feel his will to work slipping from his grasp with each passing moment.
“No use trying to study with your mind caught up in more important things,” your voice seeps through the cracks of his work ethic. It had been six weeks into living with each other when you caught Levi staring into space at his desk instead of working yet again and decided to do something about it. Your pretty hands had guided his own away from the laptop and closed it with a finality even your obstinate roommate couldn’t argue against.
“We’re going out for sushi,” you’d insisted. “And then you’re going to watch your favorite show and go to bed.”
You were right. It’s exactly what Levi needed, both then and now.
“Hey, shortstack!” A pair of hands lands heavily on his shoulders, and Levi has to quell the urge to break Hange’s nose with the back of his hand. He settles for a steely glare over his shoulder, greeted by her energetic grin.
“If you touch me without warning like that again I will not hesitate to put you in the hospital.” Hange doesn’t seem perturbed by his deadpan delivery, but nonetheless removes her hands and holds them up in surrender.
“I come in peace! Just thought I’d say hi before my lab.” She pulls out the chair next to him and plonks down but doesn’t bother to put down her backpack or unwrap her scarf. “How’s the studying going?”
“I was just finishing up. Can’t concentrate in this environment.” He gestures vaguely to their surroundings.
“Yeah, no kidding. I’m surprised to find you here, actually, don’t you usually hole up in an empty studio?”
“Eh, figured a change of pace might help. Clearly not.”
“Great, then you can walk me to class! I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway.” Hange bounces out of her seat and flits her gaze around the library as Levi packs up his stuff.
As they leave the library together, frigid winter air swirls around them, kicking up a flurry of snow from the snowbank by the sidewalk. Levi zips up his jacket and stuffs his hands into its pockets. Hange is unusually quiet as they walk towards the sciences building. Levi hazards a glance and sees her deep in thought, chin tucked into her scarf and glasses fogged with breath.
“So are you gonna tell me what you wanted to talk about or am I supposed to guess?” He nudges her with an elbow and she jumps.
“Oh! That’s right. It’s about your delightfully brilliant roommate,” she starts, grinning at Levi once more.
“What about her?”
“How has she been doing? Y’know, since the breakup?” Hange’s tone is almost too casual, and it makes Levi take a second to carefully consider his answer.
“She’s been fine, I think. Going to class, eating, studying.” He pauses to think again. “She has been staying up late a lot. Why do you ask?”
“That’s just it, she looked exhausted this morning in our seminar. Like she hadn’t slept at all.” Her quizzical gaze is fixed on him as he considers this.
Come to think of it, you had been looking quite tired recently. He had attributed it to upcoming exams, but it could certainly be deeper than that. For the past two weeks since the breakup, Levi had noted light from under your bedroom door every night as he went to bed. And yet, you were consistently awake before him, already on your first or second cup of coffee.
“You’re right. I don’t think she’s been sleeping,” he affirms, setting his mouth in a thin, worried line. While Levi was no stranger to insomnia, he did have strategies to help himself get enough sleep even when his mind couldn’t rest. Chamomile tea, meditation, sleeping pills when it really came down to it. Does she have those resources? he wonders.
They arrive outside the sciences building and Levi stops just short of the stairs, Hange turning to face him.
“Will you check up on her, please? Make sure she hasn’t actually been turned into a vampire?” Her tone is joking, but Levi can see the worry behind Hange’s eyes as he gives her a nod.
“Of course. I’ll text you later. Good luck in your lab.” He waves her off as she practically skips up the steps, giving him an impish salute.
“Have a good one, shortstop!”
As Levi turns back to begin walking home, worry sets in his chest with a winter-like frigidity. He thought you had been doing fine. 
I thought she was glad to be rid of that jackass.
-- (read part 2 here)
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svtwritess · 4 years
Text
Chapter 2
➫ word count: 11.6k (this got away from me to say the least </3) ➫ pairings: wonwoo x female reader, mingyu x female reader ➫ genre: fluff, smut, angst ➫ college!au, vampire!au ➫ warnings: sexual content, alcohol, food
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“So are you gonna explain who that guy was?” Wonwoo asked, attempting to seem disinterested as he gripped the steering wheel of the moving truck tightly. 
“His name is Mingyu,” you said defensively as you tried to hide your smile, “and he was just helping me move everything inside that’s all.” you shrugged as you looked out of the window. 
It hadn’t been long since you parted from Mingyu, but you couldn’t get him out of your head. How did someone so tall, attractive, strong, and seemingly very sweet just… magically appear the exact second that you needed someone who was all of those things?  
“Yeah, I’m sure that was it.” Wonwoo scoffed disapprovingly. 
You whipped your head around to look at him, a frown evident on your features. He looked over at you and raised his eyebrow before returning his eyes to the road in front of him. 
“What? You think he had some sort of ulterior motive?” you questioned, slightly offended. 
“Um, yeah. Anyone with a brain would be able to figure that out.” Wonwoo said matter-of-factly, your jaw dropping at his words. 
“Wh-“ 
“Just tell me this,” Wonwoo started again, “Did he or did he not say or do something flirtatious at some point in time?” he asked, sounding as if he already knew the answer. 
Your instinct was to reply defensively and say no, but you quickly realized that you couldn’t. Very obviously checking you out when he first met you and asking you to promise that he’d see you again doesn’t exactly fall under the category of friendly. 
“I- That doesn’t matter.” you said and crossed your arms. Even though he was flirting, it was harmless and there’s no reason for Wonwoo to be so judgmental about it. It was probably because the whole Joshua incident had literally just passed, so him being upset was understandable, but it’s not like Mingyu was feeling you up in front of him or something. 
“Of course it doesn’t.” he chuckled lightly, clearly not believing you. 
You rolled your eyes. “And you care so much about this why?” you asked, a tinge of annoyance in your voice. 
“Cause I don’t trust him.”
‘Whatever,’ you thought, ‘it’s not like anything will come from it anyway’. Knowing your history with any guy that wasn’t Joshua, there was an extremely small chance that your relationship with Mingyu would amount to anything other than an acquaintanceship. You’d only spent around 2 hours with the guy, but even so, it was clear that he’s wildly attractive and that he has an insane effect on you. You hoped you’d see him again, really, you just didn’t know when or how.
Wonwoo pulled into a parking spot at the moving truck company. You unbuckled your seatbelt with a sigh, hopped out of the truck, and went inside. 
The bright lights caused you to squint as they were a great contrast to the darkness outside, and the harsh air conditioning caused a shiver to run down your spine. The building was essentially empty except for a few lone employees. 
You walked over to the help desk and told them you were returning a truck. You grabbed the key from Wonwoo, signed a form saying you returned the vehicle, and went right back outside to order an Uber home. Your parents offered the two of you one of their cars to take to college, but anywhere that you would need to go on a daily basis was walking distance. The walk could sometimes be further than you’d like depending on where you were going, but not far enough to work up a sweat, so it was something that you and Wonwoo were both thankful for. 
You ordered the Uber and told Wonwoo it would arrive in 3 minutes. He just nodded and leaned against the concrete wall of the building. 
“What’s your schedule like for this semester?” you asked, kicking around a small rock that was on the ground.
“Two classes on Monday and two on Tuesday, you?” he asked, arms crossed and giving you a curious stare.
“That seems like a lot,” you told him, but he just shrugged. “I have one in the morning everyday except Friday.” 
“Eh, I’d rather just get them over with,” he reasoned, “Is your Monday morning class the one about Shakespeare too?” he asked and you nodded. You were going into creative writing and he was going into literature, so a few of your classes were the same. 
“How did we not plan that?” you laughed, and he shrugged with a chuckle, not knowing the answer to your question either. 
The Uber pulled up in front of you and you both climbed inside. You checked to make sure the driver was the same as the person on the app and after confirming that it was, you sat back in your seat and anticipated getting back to your apartment so you could finally sleep.
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It was finally the first day of classes and you were the utmost excited. With a content smile on your face, you put the last of your necessities in your bag and threw it over your shoulder. After looking in the mirror and running a brush through your hair one last time, you headed into your living room. 
Wonwoo was slumped down on the couch with his phone in his hand. He had a small pout on his face and looked more tired than you would have expected him to. 
“Good morning!” you said happily, sitting down next to him. 
He chuckled at your perkiness. “Well good morning. Why are you so excited?” he locked his phone and put it on his lap, looking up at you. 
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it’s the first day of classes, isn’t that always kind of exciting?” you asked curiously.
“Eh,” he said as he sat up straight, “it’s just school.”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He was right, it was just more school, but you were in college now, and everything was different, at least in your eyes.
“Well, would getting breakfast before class make it any better?” you inquired, and his face immediately perked up at your words. He nodded his head avidly and you smiled at his enthusiasm. “Okay, but we have to go now.”
Wonwoo stood up immediately and grabbed his grey bag that was sitting on the kitchen counter. He opened your front door and used his arm to motion outside. 
“Then let’s go now!” he said, a new found energy in his voice. You laughed and stood up, exiting your new apartment with your best friend in tow. You took the key out of your bag, locking the door and setting off toward your breakfast destination. 
You knew there was a coffee shop right by the campus as you had seen in when you toured the college almost a year ago, so you decided to go there. You and Wonwoo made small talk as you walked, Wonwoo still seeming too lethargic to discuss anything more than the basics. 
You arrived at the small shop, the air conditioning cool and the walls a calming blue color. There were a few other people your age scattered around the cafe, presumably other students. They all seemed happy, which was a good sign from a place that served food. 
You and Wonwoo approached the counter and a girl with a half up-half down hairstyle with a black apron on walked up to the counter to serve you. 
“Hi guys! What can I get for you?” she asked, her voice cheerful and her smile almost overwhelmingly large. Wonwoo got a coffee and a muffin and the girl punched in his order as she spoke. 
“O-okay,” she blushed, “anything else?” 
You placed your order, which was very similar to Wonwoo’s, and pulled your card out to pay. However, you realized that she hadn’t punched anything into the cash register the entire time you were talking. She was staring off into space, or rather, staring way too intently at Wonwoo. You moved forward a little to try and catch her attention, and she was shaken out of her thoughts.
“Sorry, uh, what was that?” she asked, her blush worse than before. You repeated your order, admittedly a bit irritated, and moved to pay again. As you went to insert your card into the machine in front of you, Wonwoo stopped you. 
“Here,” he said, reaching forward and inserting his card instead, “I got it.” 
He paid for your order and the girl handed you a number card to put on your table, shyly telling you that your order would be right out. You walked over to a small table in the corner of the shop and sat down, placing the number card at the edge of the table. 
“So she was obviously into you.” you stated, rather annoyed, and Wonwoo chuckled. 
“Was she? I didn’t notice.” he smirked, “Why do you sound so bothered, huh? Got something you wanna confess?” he joked. You laughed loudly. 
“Please,” you scoffed, “no. She just didn’t need to be so obvious about checking you out, that’s all.” 
The same girl that took your order came over to your table with a tray in her hand. She set your coffees and muffins down on the table before standing there for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Thank you.” you said as nicely as possibly, attempting to make it obvious that she no longer needed to be standing there.
“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised, “yeah, sorry. Just let me know if you need anything.” she gave Wonwoo one last look before heading back to her position at the front counter. 
“Well?” you asked Wonwoo, causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. “Do you need anything?” 
He chuckled at your bitterness. “Yeah, I need to eat.” he picked up his muffin and took a large bite. You, too, were feeling rather famished, so you began working on yours as well. You ate and drank in silence, hunger consuming the both of you. You also wanted to leave as soon as possible so that you weren’t late for your first class.
You watched as Wonwoo chugged the last of his coffee and set the cup down on the table. 
“Ready?” he asked, but all you could do was stare, as you had muffin threatening to fall out of your mouth. With ¾ of your coffee left and half a muffin in your hand, you shrugged and nodded. You could eat on the way and you’d hoped you’d be able to finish your beverage in class. You stood up from the table and pushed the chair in, making your way out the door. 
Wonwoo pulled out his class schedule and found the class you were headed to. 
“A-203,” he said under his breath, you assumed he was saying the building and room number.
You walked for a few more minutes, and soon your school’s campus came into view. It was the first time you were seeing the place in a few months and you could feel your heartbeat increase. You weren’t sure if it was because of excitement or pure anxiety, but either way, you were hoping for a good first day. 
You approached the large sign with your school’s name on it as you took the last bite of your muffin, throwing the wrapper in a trash can that you happened to walk by. You took another sip of your coffee as Wonwoo spotted the building your class was located in and pointed in that direction. You checked the time on your phone as you walked and thankfully you still had 10 minutes to spare. 
You approached the building and went inside. For some reason it was extremely cold, so you held onto your coffee hoping it would bring you some form of warmth. You climbed the stairs slowly, the feeling of the muffin that hadn’t yet digested weighing you down. 
When you reached the top of the stairs and began walking down the hallway, Wonwoo read the room numbers out loud. But of course, the very first room was number 219, which meant that your classroom was at the very end of the hall. 
You walked and walked until finally a sign with a big “203” on it was right in front of you. You entered the classroom, and wow was it big. Much larger than any high school classroom you’d ever been in. There were at least 10 rows of seats and the further back they went the higher up they were elevated. It all felt very… classy.
You and Wonwoo picked seats in one of the middle rows and sat on the very end. Wonwoo always liked being close to the door for some reason. 
“Think the professor will be on time?” he asked, but you shook your head.
“Probably not.” you replied as you took your things out of your bags. You both pulled out your laptops, yours in a rather busy plastic case with stickers in some places and his completely bare, looking as if it had just come out of the box. Even when it came to your possessions, it was clear who the more organized friend was. 
You checked your phone and there was now 1 minute until class was set to start, yet still no sign of your professor. Though as if the universe could read your mind, the door burst open and a middle-aged woman with grey hair entered the room. Her clothes screamed 70’s hippy movement and her glasses were about as thick as a bulletproof window, but she was pretty. She was slender and on the taller side, she definitely fit the stereotype of a professor who teaches Shakespeare. 
“Hello all!” she said in a perky voice. “Now today we’re gonna be jumping right into the material, we’ve got a lot to cover. So take out whatever you’re using to take notes and let’s get started!” 
You opened a fresh page, set the font and size to your preference and began typing. She started with Romeo and Juliet, which makes sense as it’s arguably Shakespeare’s most famous work. 
As she rambled you typed, trying to digest the surprisingly interesting information she was relaying to you. Wonwoo looked just as immersed in his notes as you did, which is probably why he didn’t notice the girl further down the row staring at him. She was leaning forward to look past you with a dazed look in her eyes. Did he give out love potions to random girls at some point and not tell you about it? 
You rolled your eyes, not wanting to think about how many more girls would fawn over your best friend this semester, and continued typing. 
The 2-hour lecture went by fast, as your professor had a way with words and knew how to make even the most boring of facts interesting. You felt lucky for that, as you knew how much a bad teacher could affect a learning experience. 
“Did you like it?” you asked Wonwoo as you put your laptop back in your bag.
“Yeah, I did actually. She’s a good teacher.” you nodded in agreement as you stood up, Wonwoo soon following suit. The girl down the row from you who was gawking at your apparently extremely attractive best friend walked past the two of you, giving Wonwoo an unmistakably flirtatious look before she exited the classroom.
“That’s the second one today.” you observed as you made your way toward the door. 
“Oh you act like you don’t give guys looks like that when you’re into them.” he teased, but you shook your head.
“Maybe at a party or something where a look like that is appropriate, but not in broad daylight!” you stated as you descended the stairs together. “Girls didn’t look at you like that in high school, what’s different?” 
“I don’t have Joshua next to me all the time.” he said in a low voice and shrugged. Sadly, you knew he was right. Joshua always got way more attention than Wonwoo in high school for some reason, even before his gigantic growth spurt. You felt your heart pang as you realized sleeping with Joshua probably didn’t make Wonwoo feel any better about himself at that time, but sadly, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. 
“Well then I would say it’s time to get some, wouldn’t you?” you suggested as you stood in the lobby of the first floor.
Wonwoo just laughed. “Yeah, sure…” he trailed off, itching the back of his neck. “My next class is just down the hall, see you when I get home?” 
You nodded and wished him luck before heading back to your lovely, yet average, college apartment.
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When you were walking home earlier, you saw a grocery store on your path and thought ‘why not?’ 
You went inside and grabbed the ingredients to make your favorite kind of pasta, as sort of a celebration that you and Wonwoo had successfully completed your first day of college. 
The ingredients were cheaper than you thought they’d be, and on an even brighter note, the guy at the register was cute. He was tall and slender with fluffy hair and a cute little beauty mark by his lip, though the way you felt when he looked at you was nowhere near as intense as when Mingyu did. Even though you’d only met him once, any time you saw a guy you thought was even remotely cute, you started comparing them to him. For some reason, your heart seemed to be dead set in seeing him again. 
When you got home, you took some time to get changed and relax. You threw on one of your favorite oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts and realized that you were happy to feel so comfortable in your new home so soon.
You started cooking the pasta so that it would be done at roughly the same time Wonwoo was supposed to be home. You must have timed it perfectly, because low and behold, Wonwoo came through the door just as you were pouring the sauce over the noodles. 
“Hey! How was your second class?” you asked excitedly. 
“Not nearly as good as the first one,” he said, clearly exasperated as he fell back onto the couch, “and what’s that smell?” 
“I maaaaay have made first day of class pasta.” you told him as you grabbed the only two bowls you had bought so far and a pair of tongs, using them to dish both you and Wonwoo some noodles. You got some utensils from out of one of the drawers and placed them in the bowls before walking over to Wonwoo and handing him one. As you sat down next to him, he immediately started eating. 
“Wah,” he groaned, “this is amazing!” it was hard to understand him with his mouth full, but you appreciated the compliment nonetheless. “Thanks y/n.” he said sincerely. 
Happily you nodded, a content smile on your face. “You’re welcome,” you replied as you began eating as well, the savory flavor meeting your tongue. Wonwoo was right, it was pretty amazing. 
“Oh guess what! That girl from the cafe this morning? She was in my other class.” he said, slightly mumbling due to the overflow of pasta in his mouth. 
You just sat there, looking at him blankly. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you could hear that he was smiling, “We sat next to each other. I, uh… got her number.” 
Noodles almost fell out of your mouth when he said that. 
“You did? Like you initiated the asking of the phone number?” you asked, extremely surprised.
“Yeah!” he laughed, “Why do you sound so shocked?” 
“Because it usually takes a girl making it extremely obvious that she likes you over a long period of time for you to do anything about it.” you stated as if it was obvious.
“Well I was feeling confident today, sue me.” he shrugged, continuing to eat. You said nothing else and focused on your noodles. You weren’t sure if it was because you weren’t used to Wonwoo getting female attention or because you didn’t want anyone stealing any of your time with your best friend, but you didn’t like it. Though of course you weren’t going to tell him that, you knew that he deserved it. “Anyway, how were your 2 hours without me?” 
You were just going to tell him that you only took a nap and made the food, but then you remembered something.
“I saw a cute guy at the store today. He was the cashier. Tall, nice hair.” 
“Did you flirt with him?” he asked nonchalantly.
“No, just admired.” 
“Ah, so he wasn’t as cute as Mingyu?” he teased and you whipped your head in his direction. 
“What makes you think that?” you asked defensively and he laughed at your new disposition. 
“Cause it seemed like you were pretty eager to flirt with him.” you glared at your best friend for a moment, but decided to do nothing but roll your eyes. 
You quickly finished the rest of your pasta, anger slowly rising up in you. You didn’t tease him about the cafe girl, so why did he feel the need to tease you about Mingyu? Admittedly, it had been very easy for your mind to wander to thoughts of the tall and handsome stranger that you’d sadly only crossed paths with once, and you didn’t like the feeling of vulnerability very much at all. As much as you wanted to see him again, you were scared that the more you spent time with him, the weaker for him you’d become. It was cheesy, that you knew, but even after spending time with him on just a singular occasion, you were already smitten, and along with that, desperate to see him again. 
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You woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested. You had gone to bed relatively early, mostly because Wonwoo went to take a nap at around 7pm and never woke up. When you checked your phone, it was already 9:00, so you only had half an hour to get ready and head out the door, as your class started at 9:45 and the walk took about 10 minutes. 
You rolled out of bed and started getting ready for the day. After brushing your hair and teeth, applying some deodorant, and washing your face, you walked over to your closet and opened the door. 
You stood there, arms crossed and foot tapping against the carpeted floor of your bedroom. You were in a good mood and you wanted to show it, but the question was, how would you do so? You looked through everything on hangers and everything in drawers, and after way too long of a time, you finally decided on an outfit. 
You pulled a yellow dress with small flowers on it off of its hanger and grabbed a pair of white sneakers to match. It was a bit dressier than you were used to, but it called out to you for some reason. You put the dress on along with some socks and your shoes before grabbing your bag and exiting your room. 
Wonwoo was sitting on the couch with a bowl of cereal in his hands, his pajamas still on and his hair still messy from his slumber. 
“Don’t you have class this morning too?” you asked suspiciously as you grabbed a cup from one of your cabinets, as well as the juice from the refrigerator, and poured yourself a drink.
“Yeah, not until 12 though. Then right after that one ends I have another one.” he said. You could practically hear the future exhaustion in his voice.
“That’s what you get for taking two classes in a row.” you shrugged. “When will you be home?” 
“Probably around 3, you?” 
“Right after class, so I guess around noon.” you told him and he simply nodded, his eyes drooping slightly. “You should try and get some more sleep before class, okay?” 
You ruffled his hair with one hand and chugged the rest of your juice with the other, your gesture causing him to smile sweetly. After setting your empty glass in the sink, you headed out the door. 
The sun was shining and the breeze was the perfect speed. Your hair was blowing in the wind, but it was in the luxurious movie type way, not the messy way, so you were okay with it. 
Your English class this morning was in the same building as your class yesterday, but luckily it was downstairs. Sadly, downstairs was just as cold as upstairs and you had completely forgotten to bring a sweater. You sighed at your mistake, knowing the cold wouldn’t be easy to endure, as you approached your classroom and opened the door. Your jaw nearly dropped when you saw the size of it as it was about twice as big as the classroom you were in yesterday. 
You wandered in, wide eyed and curious. As you scanned the room, you recognized a tall, tan, and perfectly built male figure. When he turned around, your heart dropped.
Mingyu. 
As you were completely awestruck by Mingyu’s presence, you were totally unaware of the fact that he had seen you as well and was heading right toward you. 
“Y/n!” he said happily, snapping you out of your daze. 
“M-Mingyu! Hi...” you blushed, trying hard to maintain eye contact. His intimidating stare made you want to cower in fear and look away, but you didn’t want to appear as affected as you actually were. 
“I see you decided to keep your promise.” he smirked and you let out a light, mostly nervous laugh.
“Yeah,” you quickly debated what to say next, “I guess you could say I was eager to see you again.” you genuinely couldn’t believe that you got the words out without stuttering, but that being said, you were very proud of yourself.
He crossed his arms and licked his lips, a smug, confident look plastered on his face. “Well in that case,” he stepped closer, “would you sit with me?” 
You didn’t trust your voice any longer, so you nodded, probably a little too excitedly. He cocked his head as to say “follow me” and began walking up the stairs with you following closely behind.
He brought you to the 3rd row from the back, away from everyone else. It definitely confused you, but in an intriguing sort of way. When he sat down, you realized he didn’t have anything with him. No bag, no notebook. It seemed like he just had the clothes on his back. 
“Where’s your stuff?” you questioned, sitting down next to him, the material of the chair feeling cool against your thighs, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 
“Eh, don’t need any.” he said casually as he leaned back in his chair, his glorious thighs on display. You swallowed anxiously and tried not to stare at them.
“Why not?” you took out your laptop and turned it on, trying not to worry about Mingyu seeing and potentially judging the stickers you had put on it. 
“I have a good memory.” he shrugged. You didn’t believe it was possible that someone could pass a class without taking notes, but maybe he only brought nothing because it was the first day of class and there probably wouldn’t be much work to do anyway. 
Your professor walked in a few minutes after class was scheduled to start, but considering you made small talk with Mingyu while waiting for him, you didn’t mind. He was a short man with thick black hair and round glasses. A curious character, but he seemed interesting. 
He ran through the syllabus rather quickly and jumped right into the material, which Mingyu did not seem to be happy about. He kept raising his hand and asking questions in an attempt to stall, but the professor seemed to know the game Mingyu was trying to play and was not having it, so he answered all of his questions with a mere sentence and moved on.
Mingyu was clearly confident, and was probably pretty popular as well. With those things considered, why was he opting to sit with you? He was talking to people when you came in and had apparently just abandoned them for you. You blushed at the thought of him prioritizing you over his friends, but you also felt a pang of guilt. It was only his second time meeting you so… maybe he was just as enchanted by you as you were by him? 
Throughout class, you found yourself fascinated by every point your professor made. His perspective on literature was one you had never heard before and you were the utmost intrigued, attempting to type every word that came out of his mouth. 
Sometimes, Mingyu would lean forward and ask you a question or make a clever remark, but even you were surprised at how you brushed him off. As much as you enjoyed listening to Mingyu’s voice, you were surprisingly enjoying the content of the lesson just as much. He seemed to notice your intense focus after a few of his comments and decided to lay off. He simply admired the way you would unconsciously nod along with the professor’s words with a smile on his face instead.  
Your two-hour lecture was over far sooner than you would have liked, but you knew anything longer than 2 hours would probably kill most other students. You sighed contently and turned off your laptop before putting it back into your bag and facing Mingyu.
“So,” you smirked, “how much of the lesson do you remember?” you leaned on the edge of your desk and looked into his eyes.
He chuckled and leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on top of his desk. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 
“I would, that’s why I asked.” you said smugly. 
“Well it usually takes a little while for the information to sink in,” he said and all you could do was roll your eyes. 
“I’m sure it does.” you said sarcastically and stood up, throwing your bag over your shoulder. Mingyu got up as well and walked over to stand right in front of you.
“I’ll even prove it to you, go to a party with me this weekend.” he proposed, catching you completely off guard. 
“A-a party? What does that have to do with English?” you weren’t exactly sure why you were questioning him, but you decided to blame it on your nerves. 
“Well we’ll be speaking won’t we?” he smiled as he stepped a little closer. You nodded and looked up into his eyes, which was a huge mistake. They were perfectly shaped and incredibly inviting, so it was definitely not going to be easy to say no. “Come? Please?” he asked quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Okay.” you said. You sounded more anxious than anything, but inside you were screaming like a little kid.
“Good,” he laughed, “I’ll text you the address later.” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and opened the contacts app before handing it to you. Your hands shook slightly as you put in your number and handed the phone back to him. 
“Can I walk you home?” he asked in a gentlemanly fashion, and again you nodded before you exited the classroom together. 
Mingyu offered to carry your bag for you, but you insisted that you could handle it yourself. You made small talk once more as you walked, simply enjoying his company. That being said, you were rather upset when you reached your front door.
“Thanks for walking me home.” you said, taking your key out of your bag.
“Don’t mention it,” he said sweetly. 
You opened the door to an empty apartment, and that was when you remembered Wonwoo was still in class. 
“Do you, uh… wanna come in?” you asked boldly, Mingyu simply smiling and nodding in response. You loved how much he smiled. 
“Your friend isn’t here is he?” he inquired, almost sounding nervous as he entered your apartment. 
“No,” you chuckled as you shut the door behind the pair of you. “Why, are you scared or something?” you teased, but he merely scoffed and sat down on your couch. 
“Of course not. We just didn’t hit it off very well last time.” he stated, eyes on the ground in front of him. It definitely seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t fond of your new, handsome acquaintance, but it wasn’t your place to speak for him, so you decided to change the subject. 
“Are you hungry?” you walked into your kitchen, “I can make you something.” you suggested.
“Hmm…” he pondered, “Whatcha got?” 
You looked in your refrigerator and in all of your cabinets and could only find one thing that was even remotely suitable for a proper meal.
“Uhh, ramen?” 
Mingyu looked at you for a moment before laughing and standing up. As he walked toward you, you wondered if you had somehow offended him by your offer.
“If anyone here is making ramen,” he placed his hands on your shoulders, “it’s me.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows at his comment as he walked past you, searching high and low for the proper size pot. Once he found it in one of your lower cabinets, he filled it with water and turned an eye of the stove on high before gently placing the pot on top of it. He then opened the cabinet in front of him, took out two packs of ramen, and put them next to the stove. He turned around and leaned against the counter next to the oven. “I’m kind of great at cooking. No big deal though.” he shrugged. You couldn’t help but laugh at his borderline cockiness. 
“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.” you said in a sly voice as you stood directly in front of him. Your kitchen was on the small side and with Mingyu being as tall and broad as he was, you felt like the two of you were closer than you ever had been.
Admiration swarmed his brown orbs as he looked down at you. They were dangerously inviting. Subconsciously, you moved closer and closer to each other, until…
The water started boiling over the pot and spilling onto the stovetop. 
Mingyu heard it and immediately turned around, moving the pot off of the eye and turning the temperature down a few notches. Once the water had settled, he returned the pot to the eye that it was cooking on. 
“Guess that means it’s ready,” he mumbled before opening both packages of ramen and putting both blocks into the pot. “Sorry…” he said almost inaudibly. You didn’t know if he was talking about the ramen or the two of you almost kissing, but you decided you didn’t really want to find out and changed the subject. 
“So where did you learn how to make such amazing ramen?” you attempted to tease, though you were still on edge. 
“Well…”
Mingyu then proceeded to tell you (more like brag) about how he’d always had a knack for cooking, along with the fact that his taste buds were, in a word, immaculate. You simply nodded along and let him talk, finding joy in how passionate he seemed to be about culinary arts. It’s hard to think of merely making ramen as any type of art, but he had convinced you that he had mastered the art of making all types of dishes. You told him you’d believe it when you saw it as he added the flavor packets into the ramen and split the noodles into two bowls. He handed one to you and you thanked him before grabbing two pairs of chopsticks from a drawer and heading over to your couch. 
You sat down next to each other and ate in a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to tell him and feed his ego, but the ramen he made was easily the best you’d ever had. Once the two of you had finished eating, you leaned back against your couch and looked at each other. 
“What do we do now?” Mingyu asked. You couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed like there was an underlying playfulness in his voice, like he was hinting at something. Your mind went back to barely 10 minutes ago, when you could have sworn you were about to kiss, and your cheeks instantly turned a bright red color. You broke eye contact and stared at the ceiling nervously.
“We could, uh… watch a movie I guess? Unless you have somewhere to be...” you played with the hem of your shirt, anxiously awaiting his answer.
“Y/n?” he said sweetly, causing you to return your eyes to his. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be right now.” his body was turned toward you and his head was resting on top of a couch cushion, making his cheek look extra squeezable. You blushed even harder and tried not to smile as widely as you felt you could; how was he so smooth? Usually someone being so blatant about their feelings for you, especially so early on into knowing you, would be a total turn off for you. It was just something about the way Mingyu carried himself that made you swoon so easily. He’s confident without being cocky, knows how to flirt with you in a way that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, and was just extremely enjoyable and easy to be around. You knew someone this great was bound to have some hidden baggage, toxicity, or secret that would eventually come to light, but you tucked that thought into the back of your mind and decided to enjoy the happy times while you still had them. 
“Here,” you handed him your TV remote, “pick whatever you want.” you took his bowl and yours and set them on the coffee table in front of you. When you sat up straight again, Mingyu had his arm over the back of the couch He ended up choosing something animated that kind of seemed like it could be a kid’s movie, but it looked entertaining, so you had no complaints. 
The plot of the movie actually seemed to be really good, but you were missing some parts of it because you were drifting in and out of sleep the entire time. It was probably because Mingyu was so warm and comfortable along with the fact that actively listening and taking diligent notes in class wore you out, despite getting a good night’s sleep. 
By the end of the movie, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder. He was unsure of what to do as you looked so peaceful. He decided he would take a few moments to admire you before waking you up as gently as possible. 
He took the time to really look at your features, almost studying you. He noticed the way your top lip curved, the height of your cheekbones, the complexion of your skin. In all his years of living, even after having known thousands of women, you were easily one of the most beautiful. You also intrigued him, and though it was only his second time meeting you, he’d been alive long enough to know when someone was worth his time. 
“Y/n,” he whispered, shaking your body slightly.
You awoke in a startle, immediately sitting up and trying to remember what was happening when you fell asleep. 
“Oh god,” you put your face in your hands in embarrassment, “I’m sorry.” you told him when you remembered that you completely knocked out during what was supposed to be ~quality time~. 
“It’s fine, really. I should probably go anyway.” he said. You felt bad, as you didn’t want him to feel like he was boring or easy to fall asleep around, but when you checked the time, you saw that Wonwoo would be coming home soon. You really didn’t feel like trying to endure or get rid of that level of tension, especially in your tired state. 
“Yeah, my roommate will be home soon…” you didn’t want to finish your sentence in fear of sounding rude, but Mingyu understood exactly what you meant. 
“He doesn’t exactly like me, does he?” he chuckled as he stood up, offering his hand to you. You smiled and took it, getting up from the couch. 
“You’re just… new. He doesn’t really do well with new.” you shrugged as you walked him over to the door. “Sorry again for falling asleep, I promise it had nothing to do with you.” you reassured him.
“Don’t worry about it. I had a really nice time.” he told you and you smiled up at him.
“Me too.”
“See you this weekend?” he asked hopefully as he reached for the door handle. 
“See you this weekend.” 
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“A party? No.” Wonwoo said, immediately shutting down your idea. You had invited him to attend this weekend’s party with you, but it was a shot in the dark in the first place.
“Come on!” you whined, sitting down next to him on his bed. “I don’t usually like going to them either, but this one could be fun…” you tried to reason with him.
“Yeah? Why is that?” he paused the video game he was playing and looked over at you. You looked down at his comforter, twiddling your fingers in fear of his response. 
“Because Mingyu invited me.” you said in the quietest voice possible. 
“Mingyu? Seriously?” he said defensively, a rather disgusted look on his face. You simply nodded, then proceeded to give him the purest puppy dog eye look known to man. He let out a long sigh. “You’re gonna go whether I’m with you or not aren’t you?” you nodded again, smiling innocently at him, despite the not-so-innocent situation. Another sigh left his lips, this one more exasperated than the first. “Fine, I’ll go. But only because I don’t trust him.” he pointed his finger at you and resumed his game, which told you the conversation was over. 
“Thank youuuu!” you said, very content with how surprisingly easy it was to get him to agree. You didn’t particularly like making him do something he didn’t want to do, but you also knew he’d drive himself crazy sitting at home wondering what you could be doing or why you weren’t answering your phone. You were also hoping he would make a friend that wasn’t coffee shop girl. Preferably someone who wasn’t interested in him sexually or romantically. 
It was around 10 o’clock now, you had already showered and were in your pajamas, so you felt like there was nothing keeping you from going to bed. You shouted a “goodnight” to Wonwoo and headed into your room. 
You fell onto your bed with an ‘oof’ before rolling over to where your nightstand was. You turned off your lamp, grabbed your phone, and rolled over to your other side. As soon as you began scrolling through one of your SNS accounts, you got a phone call.
From Mingyu.
Assuming that him calling meant that something was extremely wrong, you answered with no hesitation.
“Hello?” you said, worry evident in your voice. 
“Hey y/n, you okay?” he asked you, sounding way more calm than you expected him to.
“Yeah, are you okay?” you were now sitting up on your elbow in utter confusion in terms of his reason for calling. 
“Yeah. I just, uh, wanted to talk… is that weird?” he half-laughed at the end. You bit your lip in excitement. 
“No, not really. I guess I’m just surprised.” you said, feeling at peace enough to lay back down. 
“And why is that?” he questioned smugly.
“Well for one, no one really calls anymore.” you teased, even though you were more than okay with talking to him, despite the fact that you’d seen him earlier today.
“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned.” he reasoned.
“Alright, I’m okay with that.” you replied, smiling for a reason you couldn’t seem to point out. He’s really just that charming.
“Good. Soooo what’s your favorite color?” 
During your 2-hour phone call, Mingyu asked you all types of get-to-know questions. He wanted to know your favorite animal, subject, food, favorite place to be, along with things like places you wanted to travel, where you wanted to settle down and live someday, and even if you wanted kids. You would ask him the same questions in return, and you both insisted that you explained your answers. Though the questions were pretty surface level, you felt like you knew a lot more about Mingyu and felt a lot closer to him. 
Every night leading up to Saturday was filled with Mingyu’s phone calls as well. Only with each passing night, the questions became more revealing. Sometimes they’d be ethical, political, or even questions about your previous relationships. You only really had Joshua to tell about, and Mingyu didn’t seem to have much to tell about either, though it kind of felt like he was holding back when it came to the romance topic. Even though you were curious, you didn’t push it.
You were nervous to see Mingyu after getting to know him almost entirely over the phone, but at the same time, your heart skipped beats at the thought of being with him again. 
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You woke up on Saturday morning, anxiety along with pure adrenaline coursing through your veins as you thought about what would happen later that day. You knew you would be seeing Mingyu and you knew it would be at a party, so alcohol could easily be involved, and you were nearly jumping out of your skin thinking about what else could potentially happen. You weren’t necessarily expecting anything wild or super memorable to happen, but you definitely felt like there was a possibility for it. You got out of bed begrudgingly, knowing that your mind would be filled with nothing but thoughts of seeing Mingyu for the entire day. 
When you stumbled into the living room, you found Wonwoo asleep on the couch. You let out a quiet laugh and rolled your eyes. You didn’t even want to know how he went from sleeping in his bed to sleeping on the couch, but you tried to be as quiet as possible nonetheless. 
You got a pan from the cabinet and a carton of eggs from your sad, nearly empty refrigerator. Upon putting the pan on the stovetop and turning it on, you heard your best friend stirring on the couch. You turned to look at him and he was sitting up, his face confused and his hair a mess. 
“Well good morning, did you sleep walk out here?” you asked as he stood up slowly made his way toward you.
“You know, it’s very possible, but I have no idea.” he replied, causing you to chuckle. He sat on the counter next to the stove and noticed that you were making breakfast. “Make me some?” you simply nodded in response and cracked four eggs into the pan, scrambling them as they cooked. Wonwoo made himself useful and grabbed two plates from the cabinet behind his head and placed them next to him by the stove. Once the eggs were done, you separated them onto the two plates evenly, turned off the stovetop, and walked over to your couch, breakfast and utensils in hand. 
“Don’t you think we should get a table at some point?” Wonwoo asked as the two of you sat down. 
“I mean technically we have a table,” you said as you motioned to the small, low-rising coffee table in front of you. “Is our twenty dollar, secondhand, barely holding itself together coffee table not good enough for you? Has college changed you?” you teased as you started eating. 
“No, I just feel like most grown ups have a table you can actually dine at.” he shrugged. You gave him a weird look, as you didn’t really know why it mattered to him so much, and continued with your eggs. 
“Are you excited for the party tonight?” you asked after a few minutes of egg-eating filled silence. You knew the answer was most likely no, but you were mostly asking because you weren’t sure if he even remembered that he agreed to go. 
“Ugh,” he groaned, “that’s tonight?” he looked at you in distaste. You replied with a simple nod and he threw his head back in defeat. “Why did I agree to go again?” 
“Because you loooove me.” you said playfully, smiling as you took the last bite of your breakfast. You watched your best friend turn beet red and avoid your eyes before you stood up and walked over to the sink, putting your plate inside of it. 
You then went into your room to grab your phone. When you picked it up, you felt your heart flutter at one of the notifications. 
Mingyu had texted you. 
You ignored everything else on the screen and opened his message. 
From: Mingyu
“phi kappa alpha house
10pm 
don’t be late ;)”
For mystery purposes, you decided not to respond, but you clutched your phone in extreme excitement, a smile on your face. The party was still half a day away and you honestly had no idea how you were going to pass the time. You thought about going shopping, but now that you were an unemployed, full-time college student you were officially saving any money you could get your hands on. Though thankfully, you lived with your best friend, and hanging out with him would surely help the time go quickly. After all, time flies when you’re having fun!
You exited your room and sat back down next to Wonwoo on the couch. 
“What should we do today?” you asked him. He merely shrugged, his eyes locked on his phone. “We could watch movies, or a TV show, or we could play video games…” you rambled, Wonwoo’s head suddenly whipping in your direction. 
“You wanna play a video game?” surprise was evident in his voice, but you just shrugged. 
“I honestly have nothing better to do.”
Wonwoo was not about to pass up the opportunity to play video games with you. It was one of his favorite activities and something that you basically never showed interest in, so with that being said, the two of you went into his room and played virtually every game Wonwoo owned. You ended up liking League of Legends a lot more than you were expecting to, which made your best friend extraordinarily happy. 
You spent the most time playing that one, Wonwoo refusing to admit that he let you win a couple of times. Around 2pm your stomach started growling, so Wonwoo basically forced you to stop playing and eat something. You didn’t want to, but you knew he was in the right for making sure you ate. 
After that, you played for about one more hour before you got bored. However, you were comfortably situated in Wonwoo’s bed and did not by any means feel like moving, so Wonwoo simply put on a movie for the two of you to watch. And then another one. And then you watched a few episodes of a TV show until finally, the moment had arrived. It was time to get ready. 
You excitedly jumped out of Wonwoo’s bed and ran into your room, shouting at him to get ready as well before closing your door.
You picked up your phone and shuffled your playlist, wanting to add to the anticipation with some music. After that, you opened your closet and stood in front of it. You looked through all of your drawers, but found nothing even remotely appropriate for a party. You then looked through all of the clothes that you kept on hangers, and right when you were about to give up hope, you saw it. The little black dress. 
You had bought it in high school, specifically for partying purposes, but you hadn’t gotten much use out of it since you purchased it. You only really went to parties when it was a friend’s birthday or graduation party, so needless to say it had likely been worn less than 10 times. You felt like it was an extremely cliché outfit to wear, but it was the most fitting outfit for the event you were about to attend. 
You took it out of the deepest part of your closet and gave it a look of distaste. It wasn’t ugly, it was just not the way you were used to dressing. You figured you could have dressed like normal, but you didn’t want to stand out in an underwhelming sort of way, so you decided that since it was your first college party, you would dress the part. 
You changed into the small, black article of clothing and immediately felt uncomfortable. Luckily, you had a little under an hour to get used to it before you had to leave. 
You grabbed your makeup bag off of your dresser and laid everything you needed out in front of you. A full face of makeup was another thing you didn’t wear very often, but you had to admit that you really enjoyed doing it. Seeing the finished product also gave you a decently sized boost of confidence most of the time. 
You took more time than usual, as you actually had a decent amount of time to do it, and you wanted it to look as good as possible. As for your hair, you figured you’d just run a straightener through it a few times right before you left and hope for the best. 
As you got ready, you wondered why Mingyu hadn’t reached out to you at all today except for when he told you the information about the party. On one hand, you didn’t respond, so maybe he took that as you not wanting to talk? Which wasn’t by any means true, you weren’t really sure why you didn’t respond, you just knew that no matter the reason, the suspense you were feeling would make seeing Mingyu again much more exciting.
You applied your foundation diligently and followed up with some bronzer, blush, and highlighter before finishing off with some eyeshadow and mascara. It was a pretty basic look, but still more intense than normal. You grabbed your hair straightener from the bathroom and plugged it in by your mirror, slipping your socks and shoes on while you waited for it to heat up. While you were willing to sacrifice your normal clothing, you weren’t so keen on replacing your usual tennis shoes with heels, so you paired your dress with a pair of Converse instead. 
You quickly checked the time on your phone and it read 9:58, which meant you’d be a little late, but you were hoping it seemed more fashionable than forgetful. You straightened your hair as quickly as possible and looked in the mirror one last time. “Wow,” you thought, “you did good y/n.” Giving yourself a mental pat on the back, you unplugged your straightener, grabbed your phone, and exited your room. 
Wonwoo was standing in the kitchen with his back to you. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could tell he looked good. Like good good. He had chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt that fit him perfectly. Okay it was a super basic outfit, but the way he made it look so good, and from the back of all angles, was the impressive part. 
“You ready?” you asked, grabbing your house key off of the coffee table. 
“I’ve been ready for like 40 minutes.” he laughed under his breath as he turned around to face you. When his eyes landed on you, they widened to twice their size. “Woah…” he walked toward you. “What is this?!” he exclaimed, using his hand to motion the length of your body.
“Uh, party clothes?” 
He looked at you and you couldn’t tell if he was impressed or judging you. You gave him a look that said something along the lines of “stop looking at me like that” and eventually, he shook himself out of it. 
“Do I look bad or something?” you asked, a hint of anxiety in your voice as you handed him the key and headed toward the door. He shook his head no as he opened the door, motioning for you to exit first.
“No,” he said as he closed the door behind you, “it’s just… weird.” 
He locked the door and began leading the way, considering he knew where the frat house was for some reason. 
“So it’s weird when I look good now? Thanks, rock bottom feels great.” you joked as you walked, arms crossed partially because you were cold and partially because you were feeling self-conscious now that you’d left the house.
“Shut up, you always look good. You just look different.” he said sternly, tucking the key into his pocket. You felt yourself starting to blush, but you knew he meant it platonically. He didn’t like it when you talked down on yourself. You didn’t like it when he spoke poorly of himself either, but luckily he did it way less often than you. Wonwoo was confident, but he was also very humble, and you thought that was a huge part of his appeal. 
You walked in silence, taking in the nighttime sights of your university town. It was quite pretty, but you often didn’t notice as you were rushing to class or scrolling through your phone most of the time. It was a smaller town, but you preferred it that way anyway. 
After about 10 minutes or so, you approached a house with very few lights on that had music blasting through the walls. It had some discarded red cups and a sign with Greek letters in the front lawn, and though you couldn’t read them, it was safe to assume that this was the house you were supposed to be at.
As you and Wonwoo approached the house, you noticed that there was a gaggle of people on the front porch. When you got up to the door, Wonwoo stopped to say hi to one of them. He was on the shorter side with high cheekbones and a cute smile. Before Wonwoo could introduce you, he spoke up. 
“Who’s this?” he asked, motioning to you with the hand that had a drink in it. 
“I’m y/n,” you replied. Normally when meeting someone Wonwoo knew, you would want him to introduce you, but this guy had an inviting way about him.
“Y/n? That’s pretty, I’m Seungkwan.” he said kindly and you simply nodded in response. “Oh Wonwoo, you know Jina’s here right?” the shorter male said before sending your best friend a knowing smirk. 
You furrowed your eyebrows. Jina? You figured that must be coffee shop girl. Gross.
“Oh really? Thanks.” he said, excitement lacking in his voice. He began walking inside, so you followed suit. 
“See you later! Nice to meet you y/n!” Seungkwan yelled after you. You waved at him with a smile and entered the large, testosterone-filled house. It was crowded with college students and was way more packed than any party you’d ever been to. 
Your anxiety suddenly spiked at the thought of finally seeing Mingyu. The whole frat party scene was one you weren’t used to, so that wasn’t making you feel any better. Your hands started sweating and your heart was beating much faster than normal. You played with your fingers as you scanned the room for Mingyu’s tall figure. 
“You okay?” Wonwoo yelled over the music, clearly taking note of your shift in mood. You simply nodded and continued looking for Mingyu, hoping that finally seeing him would relieve most, if not all, of your anxiety. It also could make it worse, you thought, but you decided to wait and see. 
“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” 
“No, it’s okay,” you yelled in response, “I think I’m gonna look for Mingyu.” 
Though it was clear in his facial expression that he disapproved, he nodded and wandered into the kitchen while you made your way into the sea of college kids. 
Since you couldn’t see Mingyu standing up, you assumed he either hadn’t arrived yet or was sitting down somewhere. There was a clump of couches by the stairs, so you decided to check there first. After weaving your way through the maze of sweaty college kids, you finally approached them, and low and behold, Mingyu was sitting on the loveseat against the wall. Though he was surrounded by people, he was only talking to the significantly smaller male that was sitting next to him.
You wormed your way through another mob of people to get near him, and the moment he saw you, he flashed you the prettiest smile you’d ever seen. The butterflies in your stomach swarmed worse than ever before as he stood up to greet you. 
“Hi.” he said in a sultry voice, a small smile still present on his face. 
“Hi.” you beamed. 
“Wanna go somewhere quiet?” he asked as he gently caressed your arm before taking your hand in his. You nodded without a second thought. 
He started walking toward the back of the house in which there was a large sliding glass door. When you reached them, he slid one open and stepped outside with you. There were still people out there, but not nearly as many. 
He took you over to a large white cooler that was against the wall of the house and opened it. Though you couldn’t really see its contents due to the darkness, you reached in and grabbed 2 of whatever your hand landed on. He had chosen a beer for himself, which didn’t really surprise you. 
Finally, he walked you to a wooden staircase that led to the roof of the house. You climbed up behind him and once you reached the top, you were amazed to see that there was no one else up there. 
“Do people not know they can come up here or something?” you asked, sitting on the lone wooden bench that was sitting in the middle of the roof.
“I think they do, but most people that go to parties actually want to be surrounded by other people, you know.” he joked as he sat next down next to you. You smiled at his playfulness and looked over at him.
The moonlight accentuated his already perfect features, making your heart skip a beat. He took a sip of his drink and looked over at you, smirking when he realized that you were staring. 
“See something you like?” he teased, running his hand through his hair for added dramatic effect. 
“Yeah,” you admitted shamelessly, “I do.” 
You didn’t try to hide your face, shy away, or even blush. The night was making you feel bold, though you weren’t exactly sure why. Your relationship with Mingyu already felt so easy, you were extremely comfortable with him. After all, you’d basically told him everything about your life up until this point, and his responses to your experiences were wise beyond his years. Whenever you’d thought you’d done something bad or wrong, Mingyu always came up with a reason as to why what you did made sense. The way he never once judged you for anything you told him, even when it came to your more shameful moments, made you feel like you could trust him. He made you feel safe. 
The more you thought about it, the more you realized you didn’t want to let yourself think too much. Though you were already saying things that were out of the ordinary for you, you didn’t want to let your thoughts leave your head, at least not right now. That being decided, you made the choice to open one of the cans in your hand and down it in one go, because getting drunk totally wouldn’t put you in the position to say exactly what you’re thinking, right?
When you downed the last sip of bitter alcohol, you moved the can away from your face and brought it down into your lap. Mingyu was looking at you like you had two heads, but his expression only made you laugh.
“What? Impressed?” you looked at him teasingly, but he just shook his head in disbelief. 
“More like terrified. Please tell me you’ve eaten today?” he whined, concern lace in his voice. You could only smile in response. 
“Not since lunchtime!” you said perkily, setting the empty can down by your feet and picking up the full one. You knew drinking on a stomach wasn’t the smartest idea, but you figured you’d need a decent amount in your system if you wanted to do anything more with Mingyu than talk. And honestly, you wanted to. 
When you sat back up, Mingyu had his arm stretched out on top of the bench, giving you a spot to cuddle up next to him. You leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder, his scent filling your senses. His presence was familiar and comforting, and that’s when something suddenly dawned on you. 
“Doesn’t this all feel a little… fast to you?” you asked, looking up into his soft brown orbs. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Maybe it’s just me,” you sat up straight so you could look at him head-on, “but I really like you. Like really like you, but it’s only what, the third time I’ve seen you in person? I feel like it’s weird...” you asked mostly because if he felt the same way then you would feel way less strange about having caught feelings for him so fast. The only person you had ever really had feelings for was Joshua, and you didn’t even know if that situation really fell under the “crush” category. 
“I don’t think it’s weird,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. 
“Really?” you took a long sip of your drink.
“No. If someone’s right for you then they’re right for you,” he smiled reassuringly at you. “And if liking someone so quickly is weird, then I guess we’re both pretty odd.” 
You felt your cheeks heat up and your stomach begin to do flips at his words. You smiled at him, clearly smitten, and getting lost in his eyes as you leaned closer to him without even realizing what you were doing. You stopped when you could feel his breath on your skin. 
“Have you been drinking?” he asked sarcastically, booping your nose lightly.
“Yes,” you giggled, “but you’re the most intoxicating thing here.” 
All traces of playfulness disappeared when you looked down at his lips. They were the most enticing shade of pink, along with being the perfect size and shape to send you spiraling.  
“Y/n, we don’t-“
“Shhh, shut up.” you dropped the can behind you before grabbing his face and slamming his lips onto yours. They were just as soft as they looked and felt heavenly against yours. You kissed him passionately, saying everything you couldn’t say with words. 
Mingyu’s hand moved to your waist as your lips moved in sync, squeezing lightly as a low groan left his mouth. The sound went straight to your core, a whimper leaving your lips as you swung your leg over his body. You moved your hands to the back of his neck, kissing him even deeper.
His hands immediately moved to your ass, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. His tongue slid into your mouth and it took everything in you to suppress the sounds your body so desperately wanted to make. You ran your fingers through his hair, a light sweat making its way onto your skin. 
You pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily, and kept your hands in Mingyu’s hair. You looked into his eyes before he buried his face in your neck. Then strangely, he had stopped all activity. You tried moving his lips closer to your neck, but he wouldn’t budge. 
“Mingyu?” you looked down at him. His eyes were glued to the place where your bodies met, his chest rising and falling heavily. “Mingyu what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to make eye contact, but completely failing. 
“We should stop.” he said sternly, removing his hands from your body. 
Your heart dropped. Did you do something wrong? Did he all of a sudden change his mind about you? You were finally feeling the alcohol in your veins, which wasn’t by any means helping the situation. 
“D-did I do something w-”
“No, no it’s not you. I just think I should go inside.” he avoided eye contact and attempted to move your body off of his, but you felt you were entitled to a slightly more descriptive explanation. 
“Wait, can you just tell me why-” 
“Y/n please-” he wrestled you off of his lap as gently as he could until you were standing. He tried to head for the stairs, but you grabbed his wrist before he could get there. 
“Mingyu what is going on?!” you exclaimed, and Mingyu whipped around in response. Only he looked different. Much different. His irises were almost completely black, his eyes rimmed with red.
And in his mouth were two long, sharp fangs.
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a/n: so,,,,,,,,,,,,, long, filler chapter, and FANGS!!!!!!!!!! i’m sure u saw it coming but .. now u know :D i’m not super proud of this but i hope you all like it :( i’ll have the next chapter up as soon as possible but i did just start classes again so i’m not sure when that will be </3 i’ll try to make it uuuuh not super long sskdkdks
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slasherholic · 3 years
Note
MADDIE... DEATHSLINGER GUNPLAY...
OKAY
synopsis: you deepthroat an evil cowboy so he doesn’t blow your brains to smithereens
warnings: dubcon/implied noncon, threats of violence
The Deathslinger x Reader | Gunplay + Blowjob
Just a few more inches. Just a few more inches. Just a few.
You reach out in front of you again, fingers splayed as they meet splintered wood, huffing as you drag yourself another inch across the floor of the Saloon. Your eyes flutter closed as puffs of unsettled dust swirl around your face. A tickle builds in your throat and you can’t stop it—pain screams through your shoulders and swells in your chest as your body seizes with a cough. The warm red seeping from your abdomen glistens like rubies on the floorboards and in the dirt. The smell of your own blood is nauseating.
Reason tells you that in fleeing from him, you are only prolonging your own torture; but your body, stubbornly, refuses to roll over and die. And so you crawl.
You tell yourself things as you crawl. Hopeful things. Maybe if you can just make it around the corner of the bar, or wedge yourself beneath the table, your death will be swift. The Entity will take you in a sharp, sudden pain—impersonal, merciful—and that will be it. You won’t be left with one more nightmare to bear at the campfire. 
Your face pulls into a grimace as your fingers meet wood again. All your muscles flex as you prepare to pull yourself along across the filthy floor, just a few more inches...
...you can’t.
You can’t because your shirt has snagged on a nail jutting out from between old splintered floorboards. Fate has damned you to this spot.
Letting your head thump against the wood, you stare with glassy eyes up at the piano plucking along without a player. Its ghoulish, heavy notes flood the saloon, unnatural in a way that churns your stomach. 
You are already beginning to fade when you hear his boots clacking up the stairs outside the Saloon. Somewhere behind you, rusted double-doors squeal open.
The clacking stops and his shadow engulfs your body. He clicks his tongue dryly. You wince and choke back a sob when his bootheel comes down between your shoulders, digging in deep.
“Reckon it wouldn’t ‘ave been so hard to stay put right where I left you,” Caleb jests, beginning to reload his gun, slow and deliberate. “‘stead of snakin’ around the whole place.”
His voice is gravelly, cruel as a knife. You’ve heard him speak once or twice before but his words are always overshadowed by his other sounds; the explosion of a musket, the whizzing of a deadly bolt tearing through the air—and that dry, mirthless laughter.
You’ve come to accept a harsh truth in the Entity’s realm; some killers carry out their task mechanically, impersonally, as though running on a program. Other killers enjoy watching you bleed and die.
It became apparent very quickly which breed of murderer Caleb was. You carry his vicious laughter in your mind even when you sleep.
When Caleb speaks again, something in his voice tells you he’s talking at you, rather than to you, like a hunter studying a lifeless buck.
“Impressive y’even managed to get as far as ya did, considerin’ how much yer leakin’.”
He prods you suddenly with the bayonet tip of his gun, just beneath your ribs—right where he shot you. You cough hideously, writhing beneath his boot. He presses down harder until you lie still.
“Was proud of that shot.”
Go to hell, you want to spit at him. You might if you were braver. This is not a man whose mercy you want to test. Instead, you pray that when his gloating is finished, he fires that bolt straight through your head.
“But, seein’ as you got some fight still left in you,” The pressure in your back ebbs as Caleb lowers the gun. “How ‘bout an offer.”
You are far too weak to be surprised by his words, far too tired. It is obvious from just his tone that the “offer” is not really an offer. Whatever he has in mind, you are going to participate.
“Now, a man has certain needs, and not all of ‘em he can provide on his lonesome, try as he might.” 
A short, dry chuckle builds in Caleb’s throat. Your world dips in and out of focus, the playerless piano now a hazy blur of black and white. You consider his meaning; certain needs. Alright, you understand. You know what he wants. And you are certainly not above whoring yourself out to a murderer for the promise of an easy death.
“Get up on your knees.” Comes the demand, gruff and sudden, any hint of that false laughter sucked dry in an instant.
“And turn around so I can look atcha.”
You suck a deep breath into your lungs before you comply. You grunt hard as you push yourself up on your knees, shuffling slowly around in a circle until you face him. Tears spring to your eyes. You don’t want to look up at him; you do anyway.
Caleb wears the grin of a fox. His face bears cunning, vulpine features. The brim of his hat dips low over his brow and nearly shades his eyes from view in the dirty light of the saloon—but you can just see them, can just make out their sinister white glow. The effect is utterly inhuman.
And yet, clearly, this man is not without human urges.
You can’t help it when your eyes stray to his groin. His arousal strains his trousers. You want to be sick, but can’t quite muster the strength for it.
“Course, you already know what you’re gonna do, dontcha?” Caleb mutters, seeming to notice where your attention has drifted. Your eyes fall to the floor.
“There’s a clock on the wall over there.” He gestures his gun to the far wall of the saloon.
“Don’t know if it works quite like where I come from—lots o’ things don’t seem to work right in this place, but ain’t none o’ my concern. You got ‘till that little hand strikes three to get me satisfied.”
He settles the spear of his gun against your forehead. The tip digs sharply into your skin, wetting you with fresh blood.
“Else I pull this trigger.”
You see it happening in your mind, so vividly—your skull splitting like an eggshell, your brains spraying out the back, staining the bar behind you with chunks of pink and red. Your vision swims. 
It doesn’t feel like you should be speaking to Caleb. It feels wrong on the most primitive level. You lick your dried lips and force the words out anyway.
“What do I get?” You rasp. “If I do?” 
Caleb stares at you from beneath the brim of his hat, almost caught off guard. Then, something sinister curls across his face.
“What do you get?” He laughs again. It’s not as dry this time—there’s a hint of genuine amusement. “Well, that hatch o’course. I’ll take you straight to it.” Your mouth twists with disbelief. 
Caleb’s hand flies from the barrel of his spear gun, gripping your chin harshly. He tweaks your jaw until you look him in the eye.
“What—think I’m lyin’?”
Your silence speaks a thousand words. The tears tickle as they slip down your cheeks. Of course you don’t believe him; you aren’t stupid.
Caleb shakes his head, rapping your jaw with his index finger.
“I’m a man of my word. But I s’pose you’ll just have to trust me, seein’ as that clock is already tickin’.”
When those words leave his lips, the decision is easy, and you hate yourself for it. You’re going to suck this vile man off like you god damn mean it.
Your fingers tremble violently as you reach forward to scrabble around the leather of his belt. Undoing his pants, you pull the last button so hard that it rips from its fabric, rolling away across the floorboards.
Caleb’s dick is long, the base of it completely unshaven. The flushed head already beads with pearlescent precum—he’s enjoying this.
You turn off your thoughts as you grip his hips. Dipping forward, trying to ignore the barrel of the gun pressed damningly against your forehead, you wrap your lips tight around the tip.
Caleb grunts. He throbs against your tongue, filling you more than you were prepared for. You choke back a tearful gag and begin to suck obediently, bobbing your head back and forth. The man above you lets loose a hard breath. Widening his stands, he slants his hips impatiently forward, pushing more of himself into your mouth. Your eyes begin to water fiercely; the point of the gun against your skull is a dull numb ache now, secondary to the pain of breathlessness. Caleb seizes a fistful of your hair, forcing you to be full of him. Spit begins to drip down your chin. He holds you in place while you choke on his dick.
With a throaty growl, his hold eases. You cough violently as you pull away from his groin. Glistening saliva strings between his shaft and your lips. Taking him in your mouth again, you swallow down his cock until it bulges in your throat. He fists your hair in one hand, muttering curses. 
“Deeper.” He snarls, fingering the trigger of his rifle. You obey. Your chin meets his balls, wet and warm with drool. You bob on him breathlessly. In and out. In and out. If the playerless piano still hammers away, you can’t hear it beyond your own ugly gagging.
Caleb growls suddenly, deep and low in his chest. The fist in your hair snaps painfully shut. Before you realize what is happening, he has taken his release into his own hands, ramming you along his shaft. Your head jerks violently as he fucks your face. Your throat is full of him again and again.
Caleb spits out a sudden hoarse “fuck.” Hotness floods your mouth. He pulls out to gush along your tongue. You gag at his bitter taste.
The man above you pants heavily, head tilted back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling.
“Swallow it.” He hisses, clenching his teeth. “Get it all down.”
Tonguing the head of his penis, you swallow. It nearly comes back up. Caleb looks down at you and the scowl on his face deepens. You realize you’ve missed some—you can still feel a bit of wetness dribbling down the corner of your lip. 
“I said all of it.”
Your tongue flits out obediently, drawing the rest of him into your mouth. The fist in your hair relaxes, and Caleb begins to stroke your head, petting you like some obedient animal. It almost feels good, you think, too tired to take it back.
“Well then,” Caleb begins, sneering. You feel your blood run cold. “Let’s see about that hatch.”
The ropes bite into the flesh of your ankles and wrists and rub your skin raw with every feeble tug. You understand now why they call your current predicament “hogtying”—because with your squirming, your squealing, the way you roll helplessly around on your belly in the dirt, envisioning yourself as a hog is easy. Beneath you, the ground gives another violent quake. It won’t be long now before the Entity claims this place. 
 In the end, Caleb had only been partially lying—he did carry you to the hatch.
 He also tied your limbs, dropped you down like a sack of bricks mere feet away from your last chance at escape, and stomped it abruptly shut.
 With tear-soaked eyes, you watched him saunter away to sink down on the steps of the Saloon, procure a rag from his pocket, and begin to wipe his rifle. He whistles now as he works, looking up at you occasionally from beneath his hat. His vicious grin flashes for just a second whenever your gaze meets.
 You can tell what Caleb is thinking about every time he looks up at your tied, squirming body—that he could take you right now, right in the dirt. Maybe get a quick one in before the Entity claims you. Or maybe hunt you down later and take his time with it. 
Letting your heavy eyelids flutter shut, you hope you hurry up and die already, if only to get the lingering taste of his cum out of your mouth.
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dramaticsnakes · 4 years
Text
A drowsy morning
I wrote all of this today and I don’t know if it is any good but have some shameless moceit fluff with a hint of hurt/comfort anyway.
Ship: Moceit
Word count: 1918
TW: A bit of self-deprecation, but otherwise nothing I can think of. Let me know if I missed anything.
Summary: After a night of rushed and significant confessions, Patton wakes up in the morning with a certain fractionally fiendish fibber by his side.
Patton woke up groggily, feeling uncommonly safe. There was something warm and heavy around his waist, holding him close. His heart beat a little faster each passing moment, and his cheeks were so incredibly warm.
His heart skipped a beat, once he remembered exactly who it was, that was holding him close. When he remembered why. He inhaled and turned his head slightly. Janus was lying right next to Patton, his eyes closed and his breathing soothing. The scaled half of his face was pressed against the mattress, and his expression was so much calmer than anything Patton had ever seen. It was a mesmerizing and beautiful sight. He wore a soft yellow pyjama, that exposed some of the scales on his neck. He wasn’t wearing a hat, and his hair was uncharacteristically messy. He was still wearing his gloves, and Patton wondered if they were uncomfortable to wear when he was asleep.
Patton remembered the night before. It was a fuzzy mess of confessions, apologies and gentle touches. He remembered the soft touch of Janus’ lips. Surprisingly calm and undemanding at first, until Patton clearly and passionately reciprocated. Patton felt his heart flutter and his entire body growing lighter at the thought. Every part of himself doubted that it had been real. That it hadn’t just been a vivid daydream, or the product of staying in his room for too long. Yet, right there next to him, the proof was sleeping soundly.
At least, Patton thought he was sleeping.
“Good morning, my darling.” Janus cooed. His tone was drowsy and intimate, and the words alone were enough to make Patton melt. My darling.
Patton had been too caught up in his daydreaming to notice, that Janus had opened his eyes. They were attentive enough, for Patton to momentarily doubt, they had ever been closed in the first place. “G-good morning.” Patton said, unable to hide his genuine smile. He didn’t want to anyway. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
“I’ve been awake for a long time.” Janus said, his expression turning more contemplative. Then he smirked, “Not that I was watching you or anything, but it would appear you were watching me.”
Janus had the ability to make every single word he said sound like they held an incredible significance. Maybe Patton’s own feelings affected that perception. “I-I’m sorry. I-“
Janus laughed, and it was a wholly pleasant sound. Like music you couldn’t help but sing along to. “After everything that happened last night…” Janus whispered, moving a little closer. Patton felt Janus’ warm breath, brushing the side of his cheek. It made him shiver, but not in an unpleasant way. “You really think that would be an issue to me?”
If Patton wasn’t already blushing, he certainly was now. “I… I guess not.”
The arms around Patton’s waist became increasingly obvious to Patton, as Janus’ grip only seemed to tighten. Patton remembered the night before, and how one half of Janus had been so much colder than the other. Patton remembered how Janus had tensed up when Patton pointed it out, until Patton mumbled into the embrace how he thought it was kind of nice. He did. It was new. Just like every part of Janus, Patton discovered each moment they spent together. Janus wasn’t cold anymore. “Cat got your tongue?” Janus asked.
“No. A snake did.” Patton said without thinking.
Janus looked surprised for a moment, and Patton could’ve sworn he saw a shade of pink on the human side of Janus’ face. His breathing was shaky, as he smiled. “Did it now?”
Patton paused as he looked at the clock. “I should get up…” he said, his voice silent and sheepish.
Janus paused, as his grip loosened slightly. “Do you want to?”
Patton looked at Janus who was staring at him intently. Patton couldn’t quite read the expression, but the way Janus said it was so matter-of-factly. As if it was the simplest question in the world. “I should get up and make some breakfast for the others before they wake up.”
“That wasn’t what I asked. Do you want to get up?” Janus tried again.
Patton stared at Janus’ mismatched eyes, the curve of his lips and the pretty scales paving his cheek like clouds in the sky on a comfortable summer day, and a part of him concluded that no. He didn’t want to. “Not really.”
Janus’ grip tightened once again, and Patton felt protected. As if he could stay in that position forever. “Then don’t.” Janus said, simply.
“I have to-“ Patton said.
“No, you don’t.” Janus said, “They can cook their own breakfast. They don’t even really need to eat. We’re metaphysical human beings.”
“Bu-“
“Patton, there is no harm in staying a bit longer.” Janus said, and hearing him say Patton’s name so casually, was incredibly addicting, “You are allowed to practice a little selfishness. I thought we established that.” After a few moments of silence, he shrugged and added, “Besides. You keep me warm.”
Patton looked at Janus, lips parted. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathed.
Janus inhaled sharply, though Patton couldn’t tell if it was surprise or something else. He avoided eye contact, which was unlike the previous parts of their conversation. “So are you.”
Patton looked at Janus’ face as he was looking away. There was something restrained about it, but the blush was no longer subtle. Patton’s eyes fell upon the lips once again and he remembered how they had felt the night before. He remembered all of the fuzzy feelings inside of him, as a homely bitter taste reached the edge of his tongue. He was hit with an overwhelming urge. “May I… May I kiss you again?” Patton whispered, as if he didn’t want Janus to hear.
Janus turned to Patton again, eyes darting to Patton’s lips. He let go of Patton for a moment, leaving the warmth in Patton’s stomach twisting around, as if it was missing an outlet. Then, Janus used his free hand to trace Patton’s chin and cheeks. “Yes.” he replied.
And Patton obliged. He closed the space between them, and the kiss was gentle and drowsy. Janus tasted differently in the morning, but it wasn’t unpleasant at all. It reminded Patton of the birds singing, and a cup of freshly brewed cinnamon tea. He could feel Janus’ heart near his own, beating in a steady and comforting rhythm. Janus’ hand was still placed lightly on Patton’s cheek, making it easy to pull away if he wanted to, but so much more appealing to stay. Patton was the one who pulled away, because he initiated the kiss and felt like it was his job to end it too. Janus’ lips were still parted. He opened his eyes and looked at Patton with a reflective fondness. Patton broke the silent and tender moment with some words he’d been afraid to say. “What does this mean?”
Janus’ eyes didn’t leave Patton’s. “What does what mean?”
Patton licked his lips and gestured between Janus and himself. “This.”
Janus’ expression became deeper. Darker. There was a hint of melancholy and awe in his eyes. Then he sighed deeply. “I don’t know.” The words sounded so truthful and certain, that it almost caught Patton off guard.
“So… We like each other.” Patton said, “Romantically, I mean.”
Janus let out a soft and dry chuckle, that made Patton’s heart flutter once again. “That’s true.”
“And that’s gonna… Snake a while to get used to?” Patton tried.
Janus smiled fondly, “Ah yes… I am terrified, but I couldn’t froget it if I tried.”
Patton giggled as Janus humoured his puns. “And the others… They’re not… Roman is…” Patton trailed off. What was he supposed to say? There was still tension everywhere he went. He was being ignored. Rightfully so. He would cook in the morning, leave it on the kitchen counter, and it would disappear throughout the day as soon as he left. No one was okay, and Patton didn’t have a single clue what to do about it. “They wouldn’t accept this uhm…”
“Relationship?” Janus finished, and while the word was noncommittal and unspecific, Patton couldn’t help but blush at it.
“Right.” Patton said.
Janus looked like he was deeply contemplating the situation, staring at the ceiling. Patton hesitantly reached for the other’s hand under the covers, and the touch was absentmindedly accepted. The gloved hand was silky and nice to the touch, though Patton couldn’t help but wonder what the skin underneath would feel like. “Well…” Janus started, “We could do the whole… Secret thing.”
“What do you mean?” Patton asked.
“You know, stolen glances, sneaking into each other’s room in the dead of night, intimate whispers and discreet touches.” Janus said. Each word sounded like it was being recited from a script, “Secrets and lies until the tension dies down.”
Patton listened to each word attentively and felt as if a string was pulling at his insides. He breathed. “I don’t think I want to lie. It’s not… Well it’s…”
Janus hummed, “Not quite your style, is it?”
“I wouldn’t be any good at it.” Patton admitted.
“Because you’ve never lied in the past?” Janus asked. The words came out differently than everything else he’d said. As if they had been building up inside him, waiting for the right moment to escape. “Never had a single fake smile painted upon those lips of yours?”
Patton felt his heart sink. “Well… I…”
Janus sighed, and looked Patton in the eyes with something akin to concern. “I apologize. It wasn’t meant to sound aggressive. It’s just… It’s so easy to see. Feel. Every single time. It gets… Tiring.”
“I’m sorry.” Patton said, but Janus didn’t seem happy with the response.
“Don’t apologize to me for that. There are many things worth apologizing for, but hiding your feelings isn’t one of them. You’re only hurting yourself with it, and frankly it is you who deserves to hear the apology.”
Patton felt confused for a moment and looked down at his and Janus’ joined hands. Then he looked at the ceiling. “I’m sorry Patton.”
Janus snorted quietly, “What are you sorry for?”
Patton continued. “I’m sorry for… Pretending to be happy… When I wasn’t. I should’ve listened to you, Patton. Let you feel what you needed to feel instead of repressing it. Feelings aren’t bad and repressing doesn’t do anyone any good.”
There was something else hidden in the apology that wasn’t directed at Patton, but rather a much more harmful mistake. “Good.” Janus said, silently. “Now all you have to do is make an honest effort to do better. Prove to yourself that you mean it.”
“I will.” Patton whispered determinedly. After a few moments of silence, Janus switched hands, letting his previously free hand rest in Patton’s, and placed his other in Patton’s hair. He stroked it gently. Patton felt safe. Calm. For a few minutes, Patton forgot about the tension, resting in the air everywhere he went. All he could think about was Janus and how he was right beside him. How they were together in every sense of the word.
“I really care about you, Patton.” Janus said. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t admitted before, but hearing it again proved just how sincere it was. “It scares me, and I am not sure how these feelings work, but I want to feel them anyway. I don’t know what you’ve done to me.”
Patton giggled, and squeezed Janus’ hand gently. “That makes two of us.”
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iiamtrashqueenii · 3 years
Text
New Years Eve
Summary: Inspired by “New Years Eve” by Mal Blum, Virgil and Janus are reunited as the New Years Eve party the sides throw. Janus doesn’t want to admit how much he’s missed Virgil, and Virgil certainly isn’t making it easy on him.
Potential Triggers: (please let me know if any I missed or any you’d like me to tag in the future) Drinking, smoking, unhealthy relationships
——————
Letting out a breath of smoke into the sky from the balcony, Janus wondered for the hundredth time if he should even bother going to the party. It’d be a waste of time. Familiar faces he didn’t want to see, but at the very least, there’d be plenty to drink, and no one would question why.
Janus found himself drunk a lot of the time, actually. More often than he’d like to admit, and more often than even Remus could guess. Not that everyone else knew, Janus was all too good at hiding it, so long as no one was close enough to smell the alcohol on him. It wasn’t too hard to avoid when he rarely left his room either.
Shaking the thought away, he let the cigarette slip from his fingers, watching as the embers slowly died out with the rushing air as it plummeted to the ground. It wouldn’t start a fire. Not unless he willed it so. He had considered it momentarily, but ultimately decided against it. It wasn’t worth it. No amount of arson would fix things, and no amount of denial would make everything fade away, no matter how hard Janus tried. With slow steps, he slipped away from the balcony, into his room to get ready to go. Soon enough, Remus bounced into his room, asking if he was ready to go, and they headed to the ‘light’ sides part of the mind palace.
The music was rather loud for it being so early, only nine, and they were going to be there until at least one in the morning. Janus didn’t mind that, going to find drinks first before trying to socialize. Ultimately, by the time it was ten, he’d mostly stuck around Remus, sharing awkward glances with Virgil throughout the night. He should’ve talked to them—he knew that, it was the only chance at fixing things. But honestly? Janus didn’t even know if he wanted to fix things anymore. Not if Virgil didn’t want to try either. Besides, he didn’t need them.
Before the first hour could pass, they had started up party games, Janus well on his third drink as Roman asked him a simple ‘truth or dare.’ “Dare,” Janus answered blankly, staring into his plastic cup and tapping his fingers lightly on it, waiting for an answer before downing the rest of it.
“I dare you...” Roman glanced around, looking for an idea, “jump down from the top step over the railing,” she shrugged. It wasn’t all that interesting, but there wasn’t much that was interesting when they were capable of practically anything with minor consequences. Janus gave a curt nod and stood up, heading to the top of the stairs and pulling himself over the ledge before jumping down. The landing wasn’t that successful, aided by the drinking, so he had stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. “Ree, truth or dare?”
“Snakey-baby, you know better than to ask,” Remus answered, a faux softness to his voice.
“Great, so truth. What’s the real reason you dragged me to this party, Ree?” he asked, clearly bitter about it.
Remus breathed out quietly. “Jan you know I meant dare.”
“I dare you to answer the question.”
“That’s not—fine. I’m tired of seeing you tear yourself apart. You needed to get the hell out of your room. You can’t waste the rest of your life there,” Remus answered.
Janus pursed his lips in response, muttering a “your turn” under his breath and looking down again. What he hadn’t expected was for Remus to turn to Virgil for the next one. Remus and Janus had practically avoided asking Virgil so far—knowing full well that if Virgil picked truth, it wouldn’t go anywhere good. Worse is that Virgil did indeed answer with “truth.” Remus paused for a second. “I was hoping you’d pick dare,” he muttered honestly, before trying to think of a truth. Dares were easy for him to come up with, being intrusive thoughts and all.
“I got one,” Janus piped up, earning a hissed protest of his own name from Remus that fell on deaf ears. “Is it true that it’s my fault you left?”
Virgil frowned at the question. “Of course not, Janus.”
“Then how come you never visit?” he asked. “Is it just that... quite frankly I’m not worth it? Please, enligh—“
“Okay! Game time over,” Roman spoke, clasping his hands together. “Who wants to help me bring out the deserts and we’ll watch a movie for a while, yeah?” Remus had jumped up at the opportunity, mostly not wanting to be a part of the awkwardness between Janus and Virgil. It didn’t take long to get set up, mainly because Remus didn’t bother arguing about a movie—Roman would rig the votes anyway. Janus and Virgil had sat on opposite sides of the couch, both of them getting a few more drinks than necessary. They stopped the movie a little short, wanting to watch the time change across different places.
Janus stood up, slipping into the kitchen and setting his cup on the counter. He had had too much to drink already, knowing better than to get more if he wanted to remember anything by the next morning. He sighed, tossing the cup into the trash and leaning back on the counter, gripping the edge lightly, wondering shortly if it’d be any easy to leave. He could hear shouting and laughter coming from the nearby room, but at the same time, he didn’t feel as though he could actually hear it. Everything felt too loud and too quiet at once, so he had managed to miss a giggling Virgil stumbling through the door way, spilling a bit of their drink as they walked through. Great, Virgil was absolutely shit-faced.
“Hey Janny,” it slurred, leaning on a nearby chair for balance. The room was spinning. Merely sighing, Janus stepped over, going to help Virgil back to the living room, but Virgil stepped back a bit, holding out his hand forward and shaking his head. “Too loud in there,” he blubbered.
“Then I’ll take you to your room, but if you keep leaning on that chair like that, you’re gonna slam your face into the fridge.” Practically as predicted, Virgil’s hand slipped forward, his eyes going wide for a short moment before Janus caught him.
Breathing out softly, Virgil’s eyes flickered across Janus’s face, before its eyes landed on the little leaf decoration in the doorway. It grinned, something that didn’t look anything like Virgil’s normal grin, too drunk to care. “Janny, they must’ve forgotten to take down the mistletoe,” it slurred, leaning forward and pressing a messy but soft kiss to Janus’s lips before he even had a chance to respond. Janus hadn’t even shut his eyes yet by the time it was over, in a little shock, and unable to savor the moment. “I missed you,” Virgil mumbled. “I know you’ve missed me too,” they added quietly, resting their head on Janus’s chest, eyes fluttering shut.
“I don’t love you anymore,” he murmured quietly, most trying to convince himself of that, especially after that kiss. He repeated it a couple of times, whispered and breathy while tears pricked his eyes, and once he said it clearly for the first time, loud enough to at least be heard over the other’s, he shifted to lift up Virgil, who was practically asleep standing up. He blinked several times, trying to blink away the tears and slipping by unnoticed by the rest of the sides, even as he carried Virgil off. He slipped into Virgil’s room, oddly not too hard to do (Virgil was rather light after all, concerningly so), before setting them on their bed. He pulled up the blankets over Virgil, watching them adjust into their space before slipping out of the room, gently shutting the door and letting out a quiet huff. “I don’t love you anymore,” he repeated, starting to walk away. He knew better than to mention the kiss to anyone, even Remus. Remus would blabber about it, accidentally or on purpose, and Janus knew Roman and Virgil had something going on. If he ruined that... well, it was definitely much more worth suffering knowing Virgil was at least happy.
Janus walked back into his room, slipping off his bow tie and pulling it off, setting it on the desk before taking off his hat as well. He rested his hands on the table in front of him, staring down at it and hunching up his shoulders, doing his best not to let tears fall. He was oh-so-lucky to hear knocking on his door. It certainly wasn’t Remus—he never walked. “Come in,” he called, wiping nearing tears in his eyes with his thumb quickly.
He hadn’t expected Virgil to already be stumbling out of their room, opening the door and leaning on the door frame with a soft pout. “I didn’t want you to leave tonight,” Virgil admitted. “Stay? Please? I’ll talk to the others and we can... we can all be together again,” they choked out, lip quivering visibly.
Janus already knew if he said or did the wrong thing it’d be waterworks for hours, until Virgil passed out. So instead, he merely agreed, whatever Virgil wanted, and went to bring it back to bed. He stepped over, expecting to bring Virgil back to their own room, but Virgil slipped right past him, climbing into Janus’s bed and cuddling into the blanket. “... You know I never wanted to hurt you right?” it asked quietly. “I just thought it’d make me happier...”
“I know, Virgil. Hush now dear,” he murmured softly, pulling a chair up next to his bed. “Sleep, okay? We can talk about it in the morning,” he suggested lightly, shutting off the lamp.
They wouldn’t talk about it the next day, actually. Or anytime soon. And Janus would hope to whatever God or gods there may be that Virgil wouldn’t remember the kiss, wouldn’t say anything about the kiss, and they could forget it. Virgil wouldn’t forget, but it never dared to mention it, their relationships to fragile to dare.
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47 notes · View notes
justsomefluff · 3 years
Note
hello! i was wondering (if you’re taking requests) if you could do an atz reaction to their s/o walking out on them after they (atz) continuously make mistakes (like flirt with others etc),, i love your fluff, but your angst is also sO good!! hope you’re feeling well 🤍
I am BACK and feeling well, and I hope your holiday was lovely and healthy <3 Hope you enjoy <3 
PSA: this is purely for entertainment purposes and is purely fictional. no one is implying that any of the boys would act this way irl
Hongjoong:
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Honestly, with Hongjoong, when he’s finally went and done it he will know you’re finished
He’s one who can’t even fight back when you tell him how disappointed in him you are
“You never loved me did you?”
It’s really that painful
And he wants to scream at you like “I always loved you, how can you say that?!”
But he can’t because he knows that, with the way he had been acting throughout your entire relationship, there is no reason you should believe him
I think his mouth would betray him at some point though
He doesn’t want to hurt you more
In his head he’s like “just dont say anything it will only make it worse”
But he’ll kind of whisper “I’m sorry”
And you just scoff because I mean…seriously
“That’s it?”
Even though you know it would make you angry if he tried to justify his behavior, there’s a part of you that wishes he would
Because if he engaged in an argument with you then maybe, just maybe, that would prove to you that he really did care enough
Why isn’t he begging for forgiveness or trying to hold you or asking you to stay?
And as much as that hurts you, it hurts him even more to think that even if he did all those things, you would probably still leave
Seonghwa: 
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Seonghwa is one who will project his guilt and anger with himself onto you
So he will be quiet for a while
But then he will absolutely explode
Says a lot of things he doesn’t mean
“If you loved me enough then I wouldn’t have to look elsewhere”
Likes to play the blame game because it will hurt him too much to accept full responsibility
Can’t allow himself to know that he has behaved as terribly as he has
But at the same time, he can’t believe anything coming out of his own mouth during the argument
When he sees you packing up some of your stuff to leave he goes quiet again
It’s finally hitting him how at fault he is and that this is probably something your relationship can’t come back from
Absolutely refuses to look at you
“Nothing to say?” 
And he’d just stay quiet because what could he say really?
It would hurt his pride to let you see him shatter
But when the door shuts behind you, the crack in his heart finally gives way to a bigger hole anyway
Yunho:
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He’s gonna be crying
Before you even say anything, he’s choking on tears
Absolutely overwhelmed with guilt and self-loathing
And the way you look at him? With such hatred and disdain?
That’s what kills him
But he knows he deserves it
And he knows that he would probably feel the same way if the roles were reversed
The shame doesn’t stop him from apologizing profusely and practically collapsing to his knees
Begging you to forgive him and pulling on your shirt sleeves as you’re grabbing your purse and keys
Honestly on the verge of screaming
It’s sinking in that this is most likely the end for the two of you and its hurting him pretty bad
And he’s looking at you in a way that makes you want to wipe his tears and kiss him and say everything’s okay
But you don’t and you can’t
Because if you forgive him he will only betray you again
Yeosang: 
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Does not say a single word to you
But he will watch you as you move quickly around your shared living space, packing most of what you own
Feels compelled to offer to leave himself and let you stay
But he knows you would never be able to be here without him
This was always your space as a couple, and since you were clearly no longer a couple, you would most likely never set foot in the space again
He knows that if it really is the end - he’s still trying to hold onto hope that there may be a chance after this (even when, in the back of his mind, he knows it’s over) - that you’ll come back inside
His eyes are really wide and watery as he watches you
Refuses to let any tears fall in front of you though
He knows that he doesn’t have the right to cry when he was the one who betrayed you
But if he was the one at fault, why is he in so much pain?
San:
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So, so, so angry with himself
And he’s crying tears of frustration and just overall bitterness
He will apologize once and then leave you be
“Maybe they just need time. To be alone for a while?”
So he will abandon you in your shared bedroom and lock himself away in another room
Hears you rummaging around but he’s kind of still in denial about the severity of the situation
So he assumes that youre getting ready for bed or looking for your diary or something
But then he hears zippers and the oh-so-familiar clunk of a suitcase and he freezes
Holding his breath nearly until he turns blue
Peaks out from his hiding place to see you pulling on a sweater and tugging a suitcase to the front door
Watches as you pause, sigh, and with watery eyes gaze for what is likely the last time at all the things you two had once shared
During your short scan of the room, you lock eyes with San, still peeking from behind a door
You look away quickly, and march out the door
Mingi:
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Doesn’t realize how much he has hurt you at first
Figures it will just be like the other times and after a good night’s sleep you will feel better about it
But this time is different
As Mingi lazes around, watching TV or scrolling through his phone, you have never been busier
Collecting whatever you would need to spend the night elsewhere, only this time you would not be back
You could send for the rest of your things later
For now you just needed to get away from him and all the things that reminded you he was there
It only infuriated you more to see him sitting calmly on the couch as if nothing was wrong when you felt like your entire world was falling apart
He only looks up when he hears the jingling of keys
He looks at you, eyes slowly widening in realization
You scoff to yourself before spinning on your heel, leaving him alone with an open mouth and watering eyes
Wooyoung:
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Chases you around the house as you begin to gather your things
He has genuinely never been more afraid in his entire life
He is about to lose the biggest part of him and he knows it’s his own fault
It’s absolutely should crushing
He will try to stop you from taking certain things
Will yank shirts and skincare products, everything you touch, out of your hands and try to put them back in their place
In the place you share together
Maybe if your things stay, then you will too
But youre too tired to fight him anymore
So you let him take things from you
And once you finally have an outfit or two and a toothbrush you let him keep the rest
You can come back another time
Or maybe you will send someone else
Either way, it could way for another day when you were feeling less damaged
Realizing his efforts to keep you with him are failing, Wooyoung will literally drop to his knees in front of you
But you simply walk around him and look at him one last time before leaving for good
Jongho:
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Kind of just stands and watches you from the doorway of your shared bedroom as you pack up to leave him
Its like all the strength has left his body
When he senses you are almost done packing he flees to another part of your home
You hear things breaking and thunking around, only assuming he was having an absolute fit
In his violent attempt to rid his body of all the negative emotion he was feeling
He unknowingly scared you, only compelling you to leave him even quicker 
Finalizing all of your choices, you shoved the majority of your belongings into a suitcase and a backpack before knocking on the door to the room he had retreated into
“I’m going” you would say simply and firmly
The door would fling open and you would stare numbly at the tear-streaked face of a man you once trusted
“Bye, Jongho” you would whisper, your voice cracking as you said his name
Then you would turn on your heel and try to ignore that his fingers grazed your own as he reached for you for the last time
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gladly-be-the-good · 3 years
Text
"Hi I'm Boyd, a definitely real boy! Do you want to see the lab?" Danny raised an eyebrow as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Suuure." Jazz smiled widely at the little boy bot and said, enthusiastically,
"We'd love to!" Boyd reached out for their hands. Jazz took his immediately while Danny shoved his hands in his pockets. Boyd didn't seem too discouraged, so Gyro wouldn't eject the moody teen from his lab, yet.
As soon as they were in another room Boyd started taking.
"This is where Dr. Gearlose first thought up the Gizmoduck armor! He made it as a tool to help around the lab, but then Dr- um, I mean, someone totally random that I definitely don't know and love, nailed it, wanted to help people all over duckburg, and beyond!"
"So he's a good person then? Not someone who would be upset with another superhero reaching out to him?" Jazz asked.
This little boy was clearly incapable of subterfuge, so his goodness was genuine. She could trust him as much as she could trust any other sweet ten year old.
"Oh yes! He loves when he gets to work with other heroes! He needs breaks sometimes and is happy for any help he can get."
"Is he someone that would approve of, I don't know, magic or ghosts or underaged superheroes?" Boyd smiled at her, taking her words at face value even as Danny, who had been listening carefully, shot them both incredulous looks.
"You've never met Mr. McDuck before have you? He employs Gizmoduck and he has a ghost butler! And a niece that used to be a spirit and is entirely magic. We even have an intern here who is.... I don't actually know, but he's really nice too! And as far as thinking kids can't be heroes, he wanted me to be one! And he works with Darkwing who has a sidekick that's twelve. Here at McDuck enterprises, we follow rule 53 in the Junior woodchuck guidebook! Greet the unknown with an open mind and an open heart."
"Wow. You people are basically perfect aren't you?" Danny asked sarcastically. He didn't like where Jazz was going with this and he really didn't need a little kid, who obviously couldn't lie to save his life, knowing a secret that would get Danny killed. Or, more killed, at least.
"Oh no, nothing is perfect. Even machines are flawed."
"So Boyd, tell me about Dr. Gearlose?" Jazz interrupted, a nervous lilt in her voice.
"Dr. Gearlose is amazing!" Boyd exclaimed, spinning in a circle with his arms above his head. Danny swore he saw a rainbow in the background. "It's a secret, so don't tell him please, but I like to call him Dr. Dad."
"He's your dad?"
"Well I don't exactly have a dad, but he was the one who created me so- I mean, in the way that all kids, are, created, dude?" Little bulb smacked his head, the sound of metal hitting glass was the only sound in the room as Jazz and Boyd both looked nervously at Danny, though Boyd was looking at Jazz too.
Poor, sleep deprived Danny, who had grown up with awkward Tucker as a best friend, just blinked slowly and said,
"So, are we gonna learn about any of the science stuff here or just your family?"
"Oh! Yes! Those two things are definitely separate things! Over here we have, uh, no that's for Gizmoduck, but this upgrade is-! Oh, no, that's for me, me phone! Yup. Me phone. Ha ha hahahaha. I'm a definitely real boy!!" The kid started shaking and looked so stressed.
Jazz big sister mode: activated.
"Boyd, come here." He ran to her without hesitation. She hugged him and said, "I know you're a robot-"
"He's a what?!"
"And we don't care. Do we Danny?" Jazz emphasized her messing with a sharp glare. Danny raised his hands in submission.
"Nope. Totally cool with the robot boy. I'm just surprised."
"How? How are you surprised by this? When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"
"Oh come on, Tucker pretended he was secretly a robot for nine months when we were kids."
"You, aren't scared?" Jazz cooed and held Boyd tighter.
"How could anyone be scared of someone so sweet?!"
"A lot of people used to think I was bad, a lot of people still do. Even Dr. Gearlose was worried I was going to hurt people, that that's all I could do." This was a story Danny knew all too well. He looked away and scuffed his shoe against the floor.
"So, what changed?"
"I don't know, actually. One second my programming is being overwritten to terrorise the world, the next I'm being held." Danny moved his hands out of his pockets so he could cross his arms tightly against his chest.
"And you've never worried about, I mean, the guy's a scientist, robotics especially, aren't you worried he'll open you up one day to, to see what's inside? Or break you down for spare parts?' Boyd rubbed his chin.
"I, never thought about that before. I don't think he would, because he loves me. But maybe..." Boyd's chin started to wobble. "What, what If I disappoint him? What if I hurt somebody on accident and I'm too dangerous to be online anymore!?" Little bulb burned a bright red and shook a first at Danny.
"Woah, sorry, just um, stop that? Please? I'm sure your dad loves you too much to ever turn you off okay?" Boyd wiped at his eyes, even though he couldn't cry, and said, desperation and fear in his voice,
"I'll go ask him!" He jumped out of Jazz's arms and ran to the conference room.
"Boyd!"
When they burst into the room, Scrooge McDuck was standing on the table waving his cane in the air.
"Now see here you huanter hunting hooligans-!"
"Dr. Gearlose!" Gyro, the only person in the room that had still been sitting, bolted to his feet and caught Boyd as he jumped into his arms. Gyro instinctively cradled the boy bot and glared at the other kids. Boyd was literally vibrating. Fenton, who was already standing, watched with worried eyes. This was going to end badly.
"You. What did you do to Boyd?" He growled. Little bulb hopped from the chair to the table to Boyd and pat his little brother's head.
"Our kids didn't do anything! We've raised them to be fine upstanding citizens!" Maddy insisted.
"That's right! They know how dangerous ghosts are, don't you kids?" Danny felt all the emotions, guilt, regret, bitterness, jealousy, fear, resentment, building inside of him. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair for him to be angry because Boyd had parents who loved him no matter what. It also wasn't fair that Danny didn't. He was so tired of always being scared to go home. Of having to run away from his parents as they shot to kill or capture. If they knew what he was, Danny didn't doubt for a moment that the only reason they'd want him alive would be to dissect him. The fact that Jazz had been asking questions about the heroes here proved that she knew the same thing.
"In my experience," Danny said, voice carefully controlled, "ghosts are very dangerous." His parents looked over at the table of angry strangers victoriously. It was the proudest they'd seemed of Danny in a long time. Seeing Boyd, burying his face in his Dr Dad's chest, he felt the words coming out, and with them all the pain and resentment he'd felt for so long, all before he could try to stop it. "But so are people. In my experience."
"Danny, what are you saying?"
"And you don't just throw away a person because they cause you trouble!" He continued. Looking Boyd directly in the eyes as the younger boy had turned his head. "You don't break them down into usable parts, or molecules. Because they feel things and want things and love things! They're just like anyone else!"
"Danny, what has gotten into you?!" Danny walked right up to Boyd and said softly,
"The only people who don't believe that, they," Danny swallowed past the lump in his throat and the realization that came with saying the truth out loud. "They don't really love you." Boyd sniffed and held out a fist. Danny smirked wryly and bumped it with his own.
"What are you talking about? Ghosts don't have feelings, you know this."
"Do we though? Do we even know why they haunt people? Even if they are just, just bad, we don't have to tear them apart." He implored. This was the first time he'd contradicted his parents. This was the closest he would ever get to asking if they could really love him, spooky bits and all.
They weren't even looking at him anymore, they were holding at each other.
"He gets this from you, you know." Jack said, arms crossed.
"What?!"
"Well we Fentons sure don't have that kind of open mindedness."
"I'll say! Who's idea is it out Fenton before everything we own?!" Jack, clearly offended, raised his voice.
"It's called branding! It was your idea to bring the kids with us anyway! It'll be good for them Jack, they'll experience different cultures. Look at what cultural diversity did! It poisoned our impressionable son's mind against ghost hunting!"
"Well excuse me for wanting our children to be educated!"
Danny sighed and his shoulders slumped. His courage died inside of him.
"I was only kidding. Haha. Let's go back to Amity and live in ignorance for the rest of our lives." Jack's face lit up.
"Atta boy!"
"Honestly Jack, he's clearly lying."
"Danny wouldn't do that, we raised him better than to lie, at least to his old man."
"Kids, RV, now. Jack, we'll be discussing this later." She turned back to the scientists and said, professionally, "Thank you for your time, sorry it was a waste for us both." Boyd waved hesitantly, still sniffing,
"Bye Jazz, by Danny." Danny offered a single wave of his hands before slumping it the door. Jazz waited a moment after her parents were gone too. She hurried and took the card she'd made for just this purpose and handed it quickly to Boyd.
"See you soon." She whispered. She was almost at the door when Jack poked his head back in.
"Come on Jazz, we don't need these ghost-lovers."
"Coming dad." Just like that the Fenton family was gone. Scrooge, still standing on top of the table, summed up the feelings of the group pretty well.
"What in dismal downs just happened here?!"
34 notes · View notes
sicjimin · 3 years
Note
Can you PLEASEEEE write a story where Hyuna is sick (throwing up) and Yoongi and Jimin take care of her🤧
A.N : haha i'm sorry this one is short TT but i hope this still meet your expectations .. i really dont have it in me to torture Hyuna she's a sweet baby 😞 well, i hope you like it. thank u for the adorable idea i love it sm <3
TW : emeto
"Appa .. tummy hurts", Hyuna croaked out, but her eyelids were still half-closed as she had been sleeping on Yoongi's chest the past few minutes after Jimin make her eat and gulp down some medicine.
Yoongi coos, " I know baby, I'm sorry", he says softly as his hand starts rubbing his daughter's stomach, making a gentle circle pattern, hoping that the warmth of his palm could lessen the pain. But Hyuna squirmed from his embrace, clearly didn't like the touch.
" My belly feels all gross", Hyuna whined. Yoongi hasn't managed to take any action before Hyuna suddenly gagging, spitting up the water she just takes on their sheet.
Yoongi's eyes widen as he scrambles on his feet to snatch the trashcan from the corner of their room, "Baby baby", he chants in panic, " here" , he holds out the bin for her so she can continue to throw up.
Hyuna continues to vomit until all the food she has eaten earlier that day finally made its way out of her body. Yoongi sits back on his legs and rubs her back soothingly as she vomits. His heart clenched looking at how sick his daughter was now, but he also didn't want to admit that the sound of vomit plopping against the plastic didn't make his deep-rooted nausea in his stomach grow. He inhales a shaky breath, murmured soothing words, "You're okay baby"
After what felt like forever, Hyuna finally stopped throwing up but her entire throat was covered with mucus which made her choke a bit, tears starting to pool in her eyes. She totally did not like the sensation. "Papa ..", she croaks and tries to hold back a sob. Her little lip quivered slightly.
"You're okay now, the bed bug is gone", Yoongi whispered and wipes the stray tear away gently, kissing her forehead, "Let's get you a tea? It can make your tongue taste sweet again"
The tears in Hyuna's eyes began to overflow, she nuzzled herself further into Yoongi's, curling her little fingers tight on his sweater, "Icky ..", she cries.
Yoongi smiled tenderly, "Yeah, yeah, I know baby", He whispers and stands up, picking Hyuna up who wraps her arms around Yoongi's neck tightly. He was about to clean everything up when Jimin peek through the door with tea, porridge, and medicine on the tray. It is clear that he just arrived from the quick grocery shopping as he still has his coat on.
" How is she?", Jimin whispers as he placed the tray on the nightstand. Yoongi shakes his head, " Not good, she threw up a lot".
Jimin nods slowly as he looks at his daughter, " I'll get you some fresh clothes while papa cleans the mess, ok?". Hyuna looks up at Jimin's voice, nods, "Appa..", she stretches her arms that Jimin gladly accepts. He quickly changes her into clean blue pajamas that she likes, making her sips some of her tea as she whines of the bitter taste on her tongue before she pulled herself into sleep on Jimin's chest.
" She's sleeping?", Yoongi asks after he cleaned up the trashcan. Jimin nodded softly with a smile, then said, " She needs the rest".
" Yeah. I think I need it too", Yoongi replied and walked over to his bed and sat beside Jimin. Jimin smiles, " You look exhausted".
Yoongi sighs, " I am"
"Are you okay hyung?", Jimin asks, raising his eyebrow as he could see that the older look a little bit paler. The bags under Yoongi's eyes were even darker than usual. "No", he huffs. Now that adrenaline from watching Hyuna's sick has worn off, Yoongi has become more aware of how shitty he feels. Nausea in his stomach now become overwhelming, and the sudden flash of Hyuna's sick earlier didn't help at the slightest. He's gonna be sick.
" I think i'm gonna-", a gag interrupted his words. His hand was pressed hard on his mouth and his eyes squeezed shut. He coughed harshly and heaved as his stomach continued to clench, he ran off to the bathroom, leaving the shocked Jimin behind.
Yoongi panted heavily and kneels down on the toilet seat. His knees buckled and fell as he threw up a small amount of bile into the toilet. As soon as he finished his fit, another bout of vomiting ensued. He groans and clutches his stomach as he watched brown liquid spurting from his mouth. He shuddered at the taste.
"Hyung?", Jimin trudge in, kneeling beside his boyfriend that sends more of sick down the toilet. The younger held Yoongi's hair back from his face so he could breathe easier. "Are you alright?", Jimin asked, worried.
Yoongi shook his head no, "I don't feel well", he croaked out before his stomach lurch again. Jimin frowns deeply as he saw how flushed Yoongi's face became. He stays silent, occasionally massaging the older nape as he retches.
It took few minutes until Yoongi slumped down, completely spent after tossing his stomach content.
Jimin reaches out to flushed the murky water, "Are you done? How are you feeling?"
Yoongi sniffles, wiping his mouth and nose with his sleeve, "A little lightheaded"
"Why are you even sick anyway?", Jimin asked, worried. His forehead creased.
Yoongi shrugs, nuzzling into the younger crooks. Jimin's fingers mindlessly playing with his hair, " Dunno", he mumbled. "I was feeling off the moment i wake up. I think watching Hyuna's sick only push me off"
"Mmhmm", Jimin hummed, not knowing what else to say, " Do you think we should go to the doctor?", he asks.
Yoongi shook his head, "No need. Maybe I'm just tired and got sympathy sickness"
Jimin hums again. "Okay, let's get you back to bed. Rest up with Hyuna. I will make both of your porridge and tea to fill your empty stomach"
Yoongi nods and lets himself being pulled to his room by the smaller male, laying on the bed carefully. Yoongi snuggles into Hyuna that still peacefully sleeping. His palms brushed his daughter's forehead, "At least her fever has got down", Yoongi mutters.
" Really? That's great. I can't bear watching her sick, hyung. She looks so small", Jimin says softly. Stroking Hyuna's hair and tucked some of it behind her ears. "It's just strange not seeing her jumping around on our bed"
Yoongi hums in acknowledgment. "I will get going to take care of you two my big baby", Jimin grins, " I don't want you to get sick again"
Yoongi nods and smiles, " Ok"
Jimin leans down and kisses his daughter on top of his head and steals a peck on Yoongi's lips that caught him off guard. "You're horrible. I have puke breath and you kissed me?", he grunts. But his cheeks still blush madly. Jimin chuckles, " I don't care. Need my kiss to keep going taking care of you both sick"
Yoongi laughs before leaning in again, kissing Jimin softly. He rests his forehead against Jimin's, " I love you so much. Thank you. I'm sorry i make you worry too"
" It's okay, I just wish i can do something to ease you both", Jimin whispers before he stands up. "Rest up hyung, Hyuna is waiting for your cuddles. I will wake you up later"
"Okay"
Jimin exits the room. Yoongi pulls one side of the covers up to cover himself properly with it, and lays his hand onto Hyuna's stomach as he drifts asleep.
14 notes · View notes
bregee13 · 3 years
Text
A New Home
It wasn't before long until the Raposa family wandered into the snowy fields. At first the snow barely dusted the grass beneath their feet, but eventually the snow became almost knee deep. It was a good thing Polly thought of bringing blankets with them. Even then, the three wished they had the time to change into warmer clothing. 
Polly, while squeezing her dad's arm for support, shivered uncontrollably. "D-dad??? Why did-didn't we u-use the S-snow G-gate...?" 
Nixie, who was also freezing, couldn't help but glare at her husband. "That's a g-good question, Polly! Bobby, why DIDN'T we use the snow g-gate?" 
"Nghh..." 'How's this my fault? Movin dis way was YOUR idea...' As much as Bob wanted to say it out loud, he was much too tired to butt heads. Besides, after trudging through the snow for that long, you almost HAD to blame somebody. Though, if he didn't say anything, Nixie would freeze him to death before any snow could. "Well, if we w-went through the snow gate, we could've walked right i-into darkness. A-and dat wouldn't be fun, would it?" 
Nixie, who was starting to remember her plan, felt her cheeks flush a little more than they already were. Though embarrassed, she welcomed the extra warmth on her face.
"B-but.... Why did-didn't we go to th-the dock?? A-and r-ride a boat somewhere?" Polly asked, hoping asking more questions would distract her from the cold. 
Her mother shook her head. "N-no... We couldn't have done that. The d-darkness might've covered the dock by then..." 
"M-might've!?! Y-you didn't k-know?!" 
"I...I... Um... f-figured there wouldn't be any more boats sailing to and from there anyway... With all this darkness, of course... Of course...." 
"Th... That... s-sounds..." Polly tried to call her mom out on her poor excuse, but she was just too frozen to speak. 
"Dat sounds like a c-cra... crummy excuse, N-Nix.." 
Nixie turned her head toward Bob in confusion. "Wh...what? Are you saying, Bobby?" 
Bob stared off into the distance. He longed to go back home and sleep in the warmth of his bed, but he knew that was impossible. "D-dere was no h-harm in checkin first... Ya k-knew dere was a chance of esc-cape dere.... W-what the Rapo stopped ya...?"
"Oh... U-um... You know, um..." 'Well, you didn't bother to check either! Why blame me...?' It took a moment for Nixie to regain some of her composure. She knew she was the only one planning anything out, and that Bob likely didn't even think of checking the docks in the heat of the moment. She actually thought about leaving the village by boat many times. But the one thing that stopped her every time was her fear. "...E-even if there was a way.... Th-there's no way to know what to expect... The o-other villages might be worse off than where we w-were.... There's no way... There's no way...." While she did fear the darkness in other villages, she did have one other small fear that she was afraid to admit. She was scared of returning to her parents after going missing for so long. 'Only Creator knows how those two would react...' 
"...Y-ya got a point.... I haven't h-heard from Jack in a real long time... H-Hope he and the folks are alright in Lavasteam... N-nice.... hot..... L-Lavasteam...." 'Rapo... This snow is messin with our heads n' makin us lookin all ridiculous!'
Bob looked back toward Polly. She hadn't spoken for a while now, which was odd for her. On top of that, she was moving at a snail's pace, slowing everyone down as a result. "Polly? Ya doin okay?" 
"..." Polly, shaking rapidly, fully relied on her father's arm for support. She had a hard time gathering her words and saying them out loud. She felt horrible. "D-dad....." She cried. "I...I can't feel my legs......." 
"Dat can't be good.... Hang on..." Bob walked up to Nixie and handed her the clothes he was carrying. "Hold dis for a s-sec?" 
"O-oh... Of... Of course..." 
Bob then proceeded to lift Polly off the ground, and carry her in his arms. "Urk!" 'She's heavier than I remember!' "It's okay... you're o-okay... Y-you you're gonna be okay, okay?" He tried to reassure her, but it only seemed to make everything worse. 'Oh Creator, she's real cold....' As worried as Bob was, he knew he couldn't show too much concern. For all he knew, it would just jinx everything. "...Y-Ya got uhh... Um... Bangle with ya? Ah! I..! I m-meant...! B....Bon...Go?" 
Polly, squeezing her stuffed friend in her arms, didn't even bother to correct her dad. Though the fact that he caught the mistake on his own really meant a lot to her. "Mhmm..." 
"G-good. Dat's good... "
Nixie took the clothes that were handed to her and covered her daughter with them as if they were extra blankets. "There. H-hope that will help s-somehow..." 
"Th-thank thank you..." 
The three silently continued on their journey through the snow. The bitter wind brushed their cheeks. Eventually, the snow began to die down, and the air was less stiff. The knee-high snow turned into mere frost. Needless to say, everyone was relieved. The ice life is NOT a nice life.
The wide open snow fields slowly turned into a chilly forest. The trees were of a purplish hue and had seemingly no end to them. It was clear that they had entered the forest gate region. 
Bob, now getting tired of carrying her around, set Polly down by one of the many trees. "There ya go. Are ya feelin any better?" 
Polly slowly nodded. "Y-yeah." 
Nixie leaned down to feel Polly's arm. "She's still really cold..." She turned to her husband. "What should we do now?" 
Bob looked up at the sky. Even after all that time, was just as gray as it was before. "We gotta get some shelter. Can't rest out in da open..." 
"Where are we going to find this shelter, anyhow?" 
"We're gon have to build it from scratch... Don't expect nothin fancy, I don't got no tools to work with." 
"That's fine... But..." She looked down at Polly before returning her gaze to Bob. "Are you going to be alright by yourself?" 
Bob tried to reassure her with a smile. "I'll be good on my own. Don't worry bout me. Just worry bout her." 
"...Okay. Just be back soon." 
"I will." Bob stepped back from his family and got to work.
Now, Bob may be a carpenter, but he wasn't exactly experienced in wilderness survival. Lucky for the three Raposa, he managed to put a small shelter together out of branches and leaves. And for the restrictions he had, it was relatively spacious. Just big enough for everyone to lay in comfortably. 
Nixie had Polly wrapped up in her arms. "How are you feeling, baby? Are you warmer now?"
Polly yawned. "Yeah. I'm okay. I think Bongo's a little tired though. Are you tired, Bongo?" 
"..." 
"Yeah... He's pretty tired..." Polly's eyes had grown heavy from the exhausting journey she had been through. 
Nixie, who was tired as well, softly chuckled to herself. "It seems that you're tired too. How about we get ready for bedtime?" 
"Yeah… Okay." Polly stretched. 
"Are you well enough to get up on your own?" 
"I think so..." Polly slowly started to get up off of the ground. Although her legs were a little wobbly from sitting too long. 
Nixie reached out for her daughter in an attempt to stable her. "Are you alright?!" 
"I'm okay! I'm okay! My legs are just sleepy." 
"Come on, I'll help you over there." Nixie had her arm wrapped around Polly's body, helping to guide her to the makeshift home Bob had made. "Bobby! Is the shelter finished over there?" 
Bob looked back at his wife, and sighed. "It's 'bout as done as it's gonna get... Hope it works just fine." 
"It looks wonderful. Why don't you take a break and get some rest? It's been quite a long day." 
"It is gettin pretty late, huh? Alright. I'll take a breather." 
"That's what I wanted to hear! Besides, a good sleep in there will make the perfect test for the structure you made." 
"That's true..." 
Polly pulled her mother's arm toward the shelter. She was starting to get cranky from a lack of sleep. "Mooom... C'mon! We gotta go to bed! Bongo's really really tired!"
"Alright, Polly! Settle down! We're on our way. Why don't you go on ahead and get ready for dreamland?" Nixie suggested.
"Okay..." Polly yawned. "G'night...." She squeezed Bongo in her arms, and stepped inside. 
Nixie glanced at her husband. "We should follow her." 
Bob nodded. "Yeah, I guess we should..."
The two stepped inside the structure. The dirt floor was covered in a bedding of grass and leaves, which in turn was covered by the largest blanket they had brought. It was cozy to say the least.
Polly was already laying down, curled up underneath her very own blanket. She held onto her doll as tightly as she could. Her eyes were shut. As far as Nixie and Bob could tell, she was already fast asleep.
“She looks so peaceful…” Nixie whispered.
“That didn’t take very long at all, huh?”
“That journey must have drained all of the energy from her. I don’t believe I blame her.”
“Poor Polly… I sure hope all dat snow didn’t leave her sick…”
“I hope so too. She didn’t seem to be all that ill, just tired. ...I have faith that she’ll turn out alright."
Bob sighed. “Rapo, what’d we do to deserve any of this? We lost nearly everythin, and now we gotta live in this… this… whatever this is!”
“You’re the one who built the shack… I don’t see why you’re the one complaining.” Nixie mumbled.
“...What was that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine.” Nixie clearly sounded annoyed. “It’s not a permanent solution, anyhow… We’re not staying too long.”
“...Are you insulting my work?”
“Bobby, please.”
“No no, I get it. I understand! I don’t wanna live here either! Who the Rapo would? In fact, it’s so awful dat any normal Raposa would rather sleep outside on the dirt and die!”
“We may as well be…” Nixie muttered.
“Excuse me?! I worked real hard to set this up! All by myself with no tools, no help of any kind, and you’re talkin to me like that?! A lil while ago, you said it was fantastic. I worked the best that I could under these circumstances, and now you’re mad it ain’t good enough?!” 
“Bobby, you know that isn’t what I meant.”
“Really? What else could you have meant by that?! I don’t understand anything you’re saying, Nix! First you said one thing, then you say the opposite? I don’t understand at all...” Bob crossed his arms and hung his head low. His eyes were starting to water in frustration. “...Explain to me, Nix. What’s wrong? What’d I do wrong? What the Rapo did I do to you to make you insult me like dat?!”
“Rapo, you didn’t do anything! Nothing is wrong! Why would you come to the conclusion that everything is your fault?! What the Rapo do you even think you did?”
“I-I dunno… I was just askin you that! Ya can’t just say ‘nothin is wrong’ right after complaining your rear off to me!”
“Well maybe I’m just feeling a little peeved.”
“Peeved?!”
“Of course I’m peeved! I didn’t want this! I didn't want to be forced out of my home, I didn’t want to have to worry about whether or not we’ll make it out of this okay, and I surely didn’t want you to yell at me!”
“Yell at ya?! Nix, you’re da one dat started it!”
“Bobby, what the Rapo are you talking about? I didn’t start anything! You just got mad at me out of nowhere!”
“Out of- What?! I-I would never do dat to you! I would never yell or get mad at you for no reason!”
“Then why are you yelling at me right now then?”
“B-because... I’m mad because you insulted me!” He began to cry. “I’m mad because you decided to be mean at me for no reason! I’m mad… because I don’t understand why you would do that…”
“Bobby?”
“That… that really hurt, Nix… Why would you go and do that?”
“Bobby… I… I’m so sorry.” She gently lifted his chin up so she could see his face better. “I’m sorry.”
Bob looked at her and sniffled. “I don’t understand, Nix. I-I know it ain’t the best I’ve done, but you ain’t gotta be mean about it…”
“I wasn’t trying to be mean to you… I… I was just frustrated. And I ended up saying the wrong thing… I know that wasn’t right for me to snap like that, but… I’m sorry…”
“I know you’re sorry… I know you’re just stressed out. Dat just… really got to me for some reason. I-I’m sorry I overreacted.”
“Bobby… You didn’t overreact. It’s okay. It’s my fault for upsetting you.” She sighed. “We’re both just... frazzled from all of this. I understand.”
“...I forgive ya Nix. I know ya didn’t mean what you said.” He faintly smiled for a moment. “But… There’s somethin I don’t understand. Why’d ya say it looked good earlier? I don’t get it.”
“...You want me to be honest? I... was trying to be polite. I didn’t want something like this to happen. Especially not in front of Polly. ...Wait a minute. Polly!” She turned around to face Polly, hoping that she was fast asleep and didn’t hear anything they said.
Polly, who was watching the entire time, hid under her blanket once she got caught. ‘Rapo! She saw me!’ She then pretended to be sleeping, hoping that she wasn’t in trouble.
Nixie sighed and turned back to her husband. “We really need to pull ourselves together, don’t we?”
Bob nodded. “If I were her, I wouldn’t want my folks arguing over nothin… I’d want em to be happy. I’d wanna be sure that it’s all gonna be okay. ...We gotta do better for her.”
“You’re right. From now on, we have to stay positive. No matter what happens.”
“Of course. We gotta set an example. It’s what Polly deserves. It’s what Hunter deserves too.”
“...Yeah.”
“...I wonder if Hunter’s doin alright. Maybe… Maybe he’s alive somehow?”
“I don’t want to talk about Hunter...”
“Alright, I understand.”
The two stood there for a moment in awkward silence. With all the chaos in their lives, it had been a long time since either of them found a moment of joy. When Hunter disappeared, arguments began to take his place. And with each new horrible event, it just kept getting worse. And that was something nobody wanted.
The two couldn't help but get lost in thought. They truly wanted to set a good example for Polly and be positive, but where would they even begin? It wasn't like there were many positives that came to mind. But neither of them wanted to go to sleep on a negative note, so the two thought in silence.
"...Our anniversary is tonight, ain't it?" Bob broke the silence.
"It is? I didn't know that... Are you sure?"
"Sure I am! I mean, don't ya feel it in the air?"
"...Do you even know what the current date is, Bobby?"
"Ah... No, but you don't know either! It's close enough, ain't it? Besides, dates don't matter now anyway!"
"Well, you're not wrong!" Nixie laughed.
"...You remember when we first met?" Bob reminisced. "You didn't have a home for yourself, and I let ya stay with me."
Nixie smirked. "Oh, how could I forget? It was obvious you fell for me the moment I met you."
"I was, huh?"
She nodded. "...You know, Bobby, it's funny. I feel as homeless as I felt that very day."
"Oh really?"
"Oh~! Mr. Builde, I have been left abandoned and homeless! May I stay here in your fine home~? Only for a short while~!"
"Oh! Are ya sure you want to stay in this shack of mine?"
"Bobby, please. I don't want to start that again."
"Hey, I'm just stating facts here! And to be honest, our home at the time wasn't that much better than this shed. "
"Oh Bobby, stop being so hard on yourself. Come on, why won't you let me inside your cozy home~?"
"Ah.. I dunno~" He blushed. "I think it'd be more romantic out under the stars~" He leaned in for a kiss.
"Bobby! No!" Nixie laughed. "It's too cold out! Besides, the stars disappeared a long time ago!"
"Ah, c'mon Nix! Can't we pretend there's stars?" He smirked. "It'd be just like that one romantic time we had in twilite years back~"
She flushed a bright red. "B-Bobby!" She hid her face and laughed out of embarrassment. 
"Oh... I uh... I didn't mean it like that!" Bob blushed from embarrassment himself. "Just... We were so in love back then... I miss it, Nix."
"Bobby..." Nixie held Bob's hands in hers, and smiled. "You know that never went away. We're just... going through obstacles. It's normal. ...Though I admit these latest obstacles are far more extreme than anyone could anticipate."
"That's true, this ain't exactly something I expected to deal with." Bob kissed her hands. "But we just gotta tackle these problems head on, huh?"
Nixie nodded. "We just have to stick together from here on out."
"I can handle that." Bob looked back at Polly, who was asleep for real this time, and turned back to Nixie. "You ready to hit the hay?"
"I'm not sure..." She said, hesitant. "Something doesn't feel right. Maybe it's only my nerves, but..."
"...Ya scared?"
"...A little. I mean, what if something shows up while we sleep and... makes us sleep for good?"
"That's not gonna happen. I won't allow it."
"Bobby, I'm serious. We could get really hurt." She glanced over at Polly. "...Or worse."
"Well I'm serious too. I'll stay up and keep watch for anythin that'll go bump in the night."
"No, you need sleep. Especially after you've done so much..."
"You done a bunch too though." Bob pondered for a moment. "Alright, why don't we take turns then?"
"...That could work. But what if-?"
"Hey, no 'what if's! Just go and get some sleep. I'll watch first." He yawned.
"You know, I'm not that tired." She said before yawning herself. "I think you should rest while I watch first."
"Nah, I've already made up my mind. I'm watching first."
"After all that labor? Aren't you being stubborn? Let me watch."
"Nix. Remember we said no fighting over nothin."
Nixie looked at the ground, ashamed. "...Yes. You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry 'bout it. Now go get sleep. The sooner ya do, the sooner my shift starts. And the sooner my shift starts, the sooner it ends."
"Alright." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll see you again soon. Love you."
Bob blushed. "Love ya too hun."
Nixie walked further into the shelter, checking her sleeping daughter before laying down to sleep herself.
The two followed through with their agreement and took turns keeping watch while the other slept. Nothing posed threat to them then.
Bongo was held tight in Polly's loving arms. It had been absorbing as much energy as it could, but it knew it only had a fraction of the energy needed to reach it's goal of a long life. 
Luckily, Bongo managed to absorb a massive amount of energy a few months back. It wasn't near enough to reach it's goal, but it was just enough for it to go and seek enough. 
Bongo had been waiting patiently and desperately for the opportunity to fully feed off it's host, but no good opportunities presented themselves. It wouldn't dare risk everything with other Raposa present. If it failed, it would waste it's precious energy. And if the Raposa found out what Bongo was made to do, it could get destroyed. So Bongo needed to be as careful as possible. 
It quickly scanned the area, checking if it's opportunity finally arrived. 
It knew there was no longer a town of Raposa to potentially catch it, but Polly's parents were still there. 
Bongo considered making it's move while the parents slept, but it would be far too high risk considering how protective they were. And with the new environment, the two were more high alert than usual. 
Bongo knew the only chance it had at draining it's host would be when Polly was all alone. 
Bongo rested once more. It couldn't drain itself now. 
The waiting game wasn't over yet. And Bongo knew if it played its cards right, it would surely win.
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biznichwrites · 4 years
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A Dream Come True
Length: 5K Pairing: Giyuu x Reader
This is to go hand in hand with @dudeandduchess‘s accompanying post in which we had alternative endings with this fic. I wrote until the end of the smut, after which we created our own endings. Think of it as yin and yang.
If you would like to read Jen’s nightmare version check it out here.
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She had filled her head with pretty lies, thoughts of soft, fluffy things that tickled her stomach like butterflies. The sight of one of the few other water breath users - the pillar, in fact - brought a smile to her face. He was perfect for the role - eyes as blue as the ocean, steady like the waves, strong like a deep current, carving his own path like a river, yet calm like the water's surface at night. 
What started as infatuation became a crush, leaving her whole world centered around him. Inside she knew she wouldn't grab his attention, even if she was one of a handful of slayers at the water estate. Their rarity made them all busy on missions, there wasn't much time to see each other in passing, so she treasured every moment spent in Giyuu's presence. 
Despite their schedules, she tried to do more for him. The maintenance he had performed almost single handedly was spread among the both of them. Mending his uniforms when they were damaged, even his beloved haori once. Salmon was always stocked once she figured out it was his favorite, even going as far as to cook it just as he liked. That was a mistake on her part - his glowing smile pulled her in deeper. 
Still she felt her heart ache over the months. No matter what she did he never spoke a word to her, not that he really spoke to anyone else. Had she done something to make him hate her? 
The day she had given up on his heart came shortly after. It wasn't often she needed help or saving, but a lower moon was a bit beyond her hope to slay. She had kept neck and neck with it for some time, praying that a pillar would arrive to slay it before it ate her. Like written from a bad romance novel, her Pillar came just as she felt weak after hours of battling, his blade cutting through the neck of the lower moon with ease. 
Her knight in shining armor, so to speak. He came to save her, specifically him. Her heart fluttered in joy, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe he would be impressed that she managed to last so long, to stay alive and keep the moon busy until someone stronger arrived. Her breath hitched as she heard him inhale, as if to speak. 
"He wasn't much trouble, you should have been able to slay him. If you're weak you should know not to challenge a moon." He hadn't spared a glance her way, simply flicking his sword to clear it of blood before sheathing it. Her heart broke as he walked on, leaving her to watch the mismatched haori on his back as the distance between them grew. 
***
"Giyuu, you should try to get close to others! I know it's scary but there's plenty of people out there that are nicer than the way Shinobu makes it seem." Tanjirou smiled at the elder water slayer, urging Giyuu to connect to others the way they had, at the very least. 
"I'm not sure about that. People don't like me." Giyuu sat with his legs pulled up by the bank of the river they stopped at. 
"All you can do is try! Didn't you want to become friends with Sanemi?" Tanjirou wasn't going to let Giyuu escape this time, even if it meant some friendly pestering. 
"Yeah, I think he likes ohagi so I was going to give him some." Giyuu stared into the distance, trying to imagine the violent man attempting to receive a gift. 
"What about (Y/N)? She's been nice!" Tanjirou was hoping to point out anyone who had been kind to the pillar, at least someone who wasn't filled with malice. 
"Who?" Giyuu's face went blank at the name, unable to recall who the name was attached to. "I quit remembering names of most slayers since they die so fast."
Tanjirou deflated at that, finding it sad for Giyuu to view life in such a bleak manner. It felt him grasping at straws to find the correct words to express himself as he thought of what to say next. 
"You remembered me before I was a slayer! She survived a solo fight with a lower moon, I don't think she's dying any time soon, you know." Tanjirou hoped the other would understand what he was saying, at the very least. 
"Oh… She didn't beat the moon, though." Giyuu, like a child that was done with the conversation, drew idly in the sand below them with a stick. 
"Well we can work on the ohagi for Sanemi, how about that?" 
***
Giyuu thought of the girl Tanjirou had mentioned. He didn't know what to make of it all - she had survived, which is what he was looking for in a friend, but she wouldn't have without help. At the same time neither would have Tanjirou. Perhaps he was being too critical, she was still alive and kicking to this day. 
However he hadn't seen her much since then. Maybe she was training more? That was enough of an explanation for him. It wasn't unusual for the entire water estate to be empty with as few of the water breath users completed the final selection, much less survived long enough to rank high enough to live in the estate. 
The next time he saw her, presumably after a mission as she was returning at dawn, he recognized her more than just a name. He bit his tongue, unsure what to say as he stood on the engawa staring at her tired body limping closer. The moment her eyes caught his she glanced away, turning towards another part of the estate to rest in.
He would have questioned it more, but occurrences like this weren't uncommon. People avoided him, that was normal. Yet the way she kept herself at a distance made him want to find out why she did such a thing. Why did she hide away from him? 
His breath caught in his throat one morning, watching as she sat on the far end of the engawa in a simple yukata. She must be getting ready to sleep, given most slayers were nocturnal, but he thought she looked nice in the morning sun. Pretty even. 
Months drug along, her eyes never meeting his own. Yet he felt himself drawn to her. All the actions she had taken before - he hadn't forgotten them, but he hadn't fully appreciated them at the time either. She had done something for him without being asked with nothing in return. Someone that selfless couldn't be a bad person. He still felt a bit bitter with himself for being so critical with her, the same he felt with Tanjirou. Neither deserved that. 
***
It wasn't until Murata and a few others had saved up a large sum of money to buy enough alcohol to drown all the demon slayers, that he had a chance to interact with her. The whole time he was tense, almost awkwardly staring at her the whole time. 
"Earth to Giyuu, you there?" Really, Murata was the only one that talked to the pillar so freely, with the exception of Tanjirou. Having kept the pillar alive at one point gave him a bit of the right, so no one spoke of it. 
"Hm?" Giyuu's head turned back to Murata, clearly not aware of anything he had just said. 
"I was seeing if you were going to drink with us. We're celebrating a year of not losing any water breath users. I figured of anyone you'd want to join." Murata handed him a bottle, not really waiting for a response. Was it responsible for a pillar to drink? Not at all. Had they organized this with Kagaya in mind? Of course, they had consulted with him to make sure they could celebrate freely. 
Giyuu stared at the bottle then back to Murata, eyes flickering between the two. "I've never drank before…"
"Now is a good time to start!" Murata laughed with a pat to the pillar shoulder before disappearing into a small bunch of slayers. 
***
Giyuu had drank nearly half the bottle in the course of a few hours, but he didn't find himself relaxed. Rather he found himself in a flurry of emotions - sad remembering everyone he's lost, angry with himself for allowing his life to be ruined by both demons and his own mismanagement of his emotions, but most surprising of all he found himself jealous. 
The only female slayer of the bunch was flirted with endlessly. Most of the less than classy lines were met by laughter by the slayers. He knew they were treating it as a joke, even when she pretended to be the man hitting on Murata pretending to be a woman, but he didn't like it. He rested knowing that it was all in fun, though. 
His drunken eyes met hers, making her already flushed cheeks even more red than previously before she glanced away. He was happy she was mindful to wear hakama, least the drunk young men around them get any ideas. 
"Murataaaaa, when are you gonna get a wife? You keep talking about settling down but you're doing a shit job at it." Her laughter was kind enough, even if she was poking fun. 
"(Y/N)! You know I-I-I---! I'm trying! It's just difficult!" Murata floundered under the playful scrutiny before returning a rebuttal, "So when are you getting married (Y/N)?" 
"You know I'm dying alone, don't ask dumb questions." She laughed, but the laughter joining her was awkward, quiet and confused. Technically she could pick any slayer and they'd say yes - just for a lack of women around them, especially ones that understood the nature of their jobs. A moment passed but no further comments or banter had been added to the conversation after her bleak comment. Her face heated realizing she had made a fool of herself, not that Murata was much better as he fumbled moving the conversation forward. 
Giyuu watched as she tilted up the porcelain of her heated sake, taking in how her throat contracted as she gulped. Was it proper for her to drink like that? No. But it technically wasn't traditional for women to wield swords and hunt demons, so it wasn't like social protocol meant much to her anyway. 
Almost silently she slipped away, padding over to her room at the far end of the estate. His eyes followed her movements, taking in the dejected way she looked. Was she broken-hearted? He didn't understand why, she was pretty in her own way, stronger than most gave her credit for, smart enough to stay alive. Maybe he was more fond of her than he let on. 
After some time the men grew rowdy, playing games and raising their voices. Murata seemed to stop drinking after a certain point, clearly aware of his limits. 
"Murata?" Said slayer turned his attention to Giyuu, almost surprised that he spoke. "Is there something wrong with (Y/N)? She left a bit ago." 
"Oh… I made a mistake and brought up something I shouldn't have, she's probably just having some time to herself." Murata prayed the Pillar didn't press for more info, being one of the few she admitted the situation to. He was far too drunk to stop himself from slipping up. 
"Is she sad?" The lower ranked slayer blinked at the question, taken aback at how simple it was. 
"Yeah, she just has her ways of dealing with it - wait! Where are you going?" Giyuu stood, moving toward the woman's room without another word. Murata prayed it didn't make things worse. 
***
The pillar stood outside her door, listening as her crying was muffled into hitched breaths and harsh inhales to quiet herself. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the alcohol in his system, but he slowly pushed the shoji open and closed it quietly behind him. 
"Is there something wrong?" He was trying to be nice but the jump of surprise from her was clearly not the reaction he was searching for. Her hand rested above her heart in surprise before gripping the cloth in anguish. 
"I'm fine. You can go back to the others." Her head tilted away, not meeting his eyes. 
"I'm sure Murata didn't mean to upset you. Did something happen? Did you lose your fiance?" It was the only explanation he could rationalize why she wouldn't take a spouse when she had her choice of men flirting with her earlier. 
"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone." She flopped back down on her futon, facing away from him. He wished she didn't look so pretty or the light of the moon didn't accentuate the curves of her waist and hips. Despite her words he never left, she knew at the lack of sound her shoji made when open and shut. 
Rather he shuffled closer, nowhere near as elegant as he usually moved. Still he slid his fingers into her hair, finding himself rationalizing the feel of her hair with the need to sooth her. 
"I'm sure you could find a husband in the slayers if you're worried about that." He didn't like it, especially the thought of not being able to freely look at her and the risk of never being able to touch her again. 
"I said my plan was to die alone, it's not that complicated."
"Why?" 
"Men don't want a woman like me." Her words croaked from her throat and he could help but sink into the futon and pull her back to his chest. His nose was pressed to the back of her hair and he could bask in her scent. 
"That's not true." The more of her he got, the greedier he became. He wanted to remind her that the other water breath users would marry her, but she clearly wasn't interested. 
"You don't know that." He felt her back trembling as she held back her distress and he hugged her closer. "I'm covered scars, I can barely fight and I'm a pitiful slayer, I don't have anything to my name but what I wear, I'm not pretty and dainty like other girls-" 
Her hands covered her mouth. She was complaining to the very person that filled her with insecurities. Deep inside she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter. Her love for him had soured, painting her into a corner of self depreciation. She knew this wasn't him, this was some drunken version of the man likely looking to have a piece of her. 
For what it was worth, she would let him. At least it would be the final chapter to the broken heart saga of her life. 
"None of that is true."
"I don't need lies to make me feel better." 
He was growing a bit frustrated. His hand gripped her waist, both keeping her still and holding her to him. He was painfully aware he could slide his hands lower to grip the curve of her hips or slide his hands upward to cup her breasts.
"You're pretty. A good slayer. You're good as you are." He couldn't think of anything more grand to say, not that he was eloquent with words anyway. He prayed she understood, but the pause in her response made fear eat at his chest. Had he said the wrong thing?
"...Did you want to sleep with me?" That was the only conclusion she could think of. He was drunk and needed a body that was willing. If he was into women she was the closest one, and considering she was the only one in the estate he had to act fast. 
"Sleep with you?" His words were quiet, as if he was scared to say them loud enough. 
"As in sex. Did you want to have sex with me?" She was only so bold because she was facing away from him. The alcohol and bitter feeling in her chest brought up the question, but she could never work up the nerve to ask if she was looking directly at him. 
He buried his face against her neck weighing the options. She was drunk, but so was he. There was no way either should do this. At the same time he doubted the option would ever be available again, especially as his attraction to her grew. 
"Yes…" 
***
He hovered over her, pushing in deeply with a moan. Her eyes had shed so many tears through the night, even more when he undressed her, but he couldn't help but to find her more addicting than before. 
"You're so warm, oh fuck…" His head rested against her shoulder as he found himself able to thrust into her depths. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."
He heard her crying harder, moans of pleasure breaking through her moans of agony. Long had passed the attempts to calm her tears, especially when she grew nervous when he saw her naked. 
He never missed her whispers of self depreciation, how she fought all compliments that slipped from his lips as he undressed her layer by layer. Even if she found herself disgusting he couldn't agree with her. Every scar he uncovered, every little imperfection his eyes found cemented his infatuation. 
It was her, something so unique to only her. No one else could replicate every little aspect of her. 
Yet he couldn't make her stop crying. Soft whispers of praise didn't just fall on def ears but only pushed her into further despair. Every kind thing he said only brought more tears. 
He didn't miss how her hips canted into his, how her eyes grew hazy as pleasure set in - the way her lips trembled after he kissed her, the second of hope in her eyes before she turned her head away. 
The soft hiccups between whimpers were never lost on him. They came at his every kiss and praise, every moment he touched her in a way she enjoyed. As if some part of her wanted to receive his adoration before becoming buried in negativity. 
She couldn't deny it, either. Simply knowing he didn't despise her, or at least a part of her, both healed and hurt her. For a moment she had some value to him. She was someone worthy of his sole attention. 
Rough hands graced her body, pushing her hair from her face before guiding down her neck to cup her breast, gently squeezing her nipples before tracing her scars down her torso. When he reached her hips one hand held firm while the other graced the area above where they were joined. He remembered in a haze that men had talked about women feeling good there. A clit? All he knew is that her legs tightened around his hips the moment his thumb grazed the tip of the bud. 
Abusing such a sensitive spot to see her reactions was a bit cruel on his part, but he wanted to see her relieved of her tears. It was time she felt good - both in terms of sex and about herself. He basked in the moment he hands left her face to cling to the bedding below her. 
Dipping down he kissed her lips again, taking in how she seemed to squeeze tighter at the simple piece of affection. Despite the fact she felt inferior he adored having her like this - seeing her broken, in a way no one else has seen before, and the ability to see her put back together again. The vulnerability neither showed the world, only shared with the other. 
He shifted his hips, thrusting deeper than before. She clenched around him in ways that made him regret never considering doing this sooner. At the same time he knew their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Their suffering was similar in a sense, they both could understand not having any value in themselves. Had he really been so blind to her all this time? 
"You're so good." His head fell to her shoulder as his hips jerked into her warmth. The man felt elation when she gave in and clung to him. At first her hands were lightly touching, only loosely circling his back. Even if he wasn't sober he recognized enough of her reactions to make her react how he wanted. 
Kisses were placed to her cheek and jaw as he tilted his head from her shoulder. Her breath shuttered, her nails timidly scratching his skin as her hold grew more firm. 
He didn't expect her to orgasm from such simple affection but he couldn't explain why else her core felt as if it were milking his cock. Her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him flush against her as her face buried into the curve of his neck. 
It was welcoming to hear a cry of pleasure rather than anguish. The sound graced him, bringing him to climax shortly after her. Had he been sober he would have been more mindful of mindlessly cumming inside her without a second thought. For the moment he wanted to bask in the feeling. The after glow of sex was only highlighted by the feeling on her nuzzling into his neck. 
For a moment she accepted him. Someone liked him, even if he could still hear her hiccup as warm tears covered her cheeks again. He considered wiping her tears away but decided that he would rather let her hide against his chest. It was somewhere safe, where the judgements of the world that had brought her so low couldn't touch her. 
Her heart throbbed at the feeling of him holding her close, even as they shifted to lay chest to chest on the futon. His cum dripping out to dirty her thighs wouldn't deter her for enjoying the moment. Regret and shame could come later, for now she wanted to accept just a grain on the validation he gave. Even if he regretted in the morning she wanted to savor the moment. 
***
The next morning, or rather afternoon, came too soon. Her eyes hurt, presumably from all the crying she had done, and her body was simply tired. While she wasn't sober, she remembered the previous night. Perhaps with less clear detail than she'd prefer, but the feeling hadn't changed. Tension gnawed at her stomach as she felt the water pillar's warmth against her skin even before she opened her eyes. 
Giyuu woke silently, as always, but with a shadow of a smile on his face. Not that anyone could see it, not even his bedmate. Still waking up with her in his arms was a pleasant feeling. She hadn't run away from him, hadn't pushed him away again. She had accepted him, at least for the time being. 
The futon wasn't made for two people so it was to be expected they were pressed flush together. Yet neither felt uncomfortable. His back blocked the light faulting through the shoji, sparing her eyes the brunt of the light.
She had assumed the night after a half tipsy hook up would be more awkward, but the moment his fingers traced her spine she found herself melting into him and the blankets. The bitter feeling inside hadn't disappeared, but the harsh things she believed to be fact that haunted her seemed to be farther away more than ever. 
Timidly she nuzzled against him, testing the waters of his affectionate gestures. Warm hands pressed against her back, pulling her into him. Her arms circled him tentatively, only applying the lightest of pressure before returning his hold on her. 
His heart throbbed, feeling as if it were in his throat. While he found actions easier than words things became more confusing the more awake he became. Holding her out of some sleepy instinct seemed right, but now he was awake and aware of what he was doing. However she seemed to like it, even reciprocating of her own free will. It was a much better turn of events than her crying about being unlovable or something of the sort. 
"Good morning, Giyuu." He looked down to find her peeking up at him, seemingly just as unsure of herself as he felt. Yet he didn't miss the hopeful glimmer in her eyes, the way she subconsciously held on to him. She really didn't want him to leave, did she? "How are you feeling?" 
"Morning. I'm fine." More than fine, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself. Unconsciously his hand rose to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. He struggled to hold a conversation, but he'd try for her. "You?" 
"I'm great. Tired though, still." With a heaving breath she buried her face against his neck as he had done to her the night before. 
"One thing." Her eyes blinked in surprise, unused to him sparking more conversation. Anxiety rolled in her stomach again worrying about all the possibilities he could bring up. Was he going to ask her to let go so he could leave? Not tell anyone? Was he ashamed of sleeping with her? Yet when he spoke he sounded as if his word was final, nothing to be debated. 
"Don't talk about yourself like that anymore."
***
Months passed without incident, the pair of water breath users growing closer by the day until either were inseparable between missions. While Giyuu was never a fan of public displays of affection, the rest of the estate could see the change in him. 
"Is something different?" Murata whispered to Tanjirou, who was sneaking a glance at the water pillar with him. 
"Absolutely. I can't tell what, but I can smell the happiness on him." The younger slayer tapped his nose before the elder took a hold of the top of his head and twisted it back to focus his sights on the engawa. 
The once sad slayer, one who had given up on her heart, sat next to Giyuu with a grin that could blind the room. Even the pillar himself couldn't help but return the sentiment with a shy smile of his own. As she took his hand his cheeks flushed a pink tone, as if that had been the most indecent thing they had done thus far. 
"Good morning, Giyuu." Lips pressed to his blushing cheek, same as she had done every day since they agreed to be together shortly after their drunken, steamy night. His cheeks plumped with the happy smile before returning to a simple content expression. 
"Good morning, dear." He couldn't deny it was odd at first, but receiving her affections had become the highlight of his day. Even if he was too shy to return them all in the public eye, he held her hand more firmly as a silent promise to grace her with the love she gave him later. 
I'm the distance the lower ranking slayers looked on in surprise. Murata, who had a notion of what happened, soon wiped his face of shock to replace it with comical tears of joy. 
"She did it! Tanjirou, she did it!" Murata shook Tanjirou's shoulders in excitement, not mindful about being caught in the moment. "She finally got him to break his shell. Look at them! Oh my-"
Murata's mindless blubbering went on and on, while Tanjirou sniffed the air. Something was different, a familiar scent but he couldn't quite place it. Wait, was she-? 
"Giyuu, I actually needed to talk to you." Tension rose in him as his lover said that, but her demeanor was not the same style of tense. Rather she seemed a bit anxious but not angry or upset. His hands held both of hers, as if there were a silent plea to not leave. The shy upward curve of her lips soothed him. 
"I don't really know how to say it more eloquently, but…" Her hand took his, pressing it to her stomach. "We're going to be parents."
Below his palm he could feel the fabric of her yukata and the skin below. It was firmer than he remembered, likely from their child growing within. 
"You're really…? It's mine…?" His eyes were wide, jaw slack as he pressed both hands around her stomach, even if it hadn't grown much yet. Perhaps that's how he hadn't noticed before. 
"Of course, I haven't been sleeping with anyone but you." She laughed to herself as he all but slid off the engawa to sit on the ground and become level with the child growing within her. Idly her hands traced through his hair as his eyes bore into her form. 
"I'm going to be a father." The whisper was almost silent, meant for her ears only. 
"You'll do wonderful, sweetheart." Her pet name for him made his cheeks turn bright red. Immediately he ducked to hide his face against her stomach. Her arms circled him and held him close, lightly scratching at the hairs along the nape of his neck. 
After a moment he glanced up at her. His heart swelled, bubbling in his chest in a way he couldn't describe. Never before had he felt so strongly, so intensely. Rough hands reached for her own again, intertwining their fingers as they did so often before. 
"I love you." The words poured from his mouth before realizing it. "Marry me."
Bonus:
"That scent, she's pregnant." If there was anyone that could recognize the scent of a pregnant woman, it was Tanjirou. After all he had spent most of his childhood with his mother pregnant. 
"Tanjirou! We're going to be uncles!" Murata began to sob on Tanjirou, happy tears running down his face like a waterfall. "Oh my God, we're going to have a baby at the estate!"
Tanjirou laughed to himself as he watched the soon to be parents in the distance. Other than the scent of pregnancy he could smell their happiness. A couple of people, so defeated by the world, could find happiness together. 
If that wasn't poetic, he didn't know what was. 
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@gingerreggg bust au brainrot is real
Heads Up- Part 6 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)
▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪
Suzi awoke on the sofa with a start. It was already late at night, and the TV was still on, already halfway through showing yet another Fast and the Furious sequel. The living room was dimly lit, though she could clearly see Joseph crouched next to her with a concerned expression on his face.
"It's...it's Caesar," he sighed. "He's quite upset."
Rising from the couch in a worried hurry, Suzi made her way over to the front door, and was greeted with the sight of Caesar, his neck base covered in mud and dirt and the most bitter expression on his face.
"Caesar?" she asked, bending down, trying to maintain eye contact, despite Caesar trying to look away. "Did you try to run away?"
"I can only bounce," Caesar joked half-heartedly. "I don't have feet."
"Well, did you try to bounce away?" she asked again, with the patience of a kind schoolteacher.
Caesar sighed, knowing that trying to break the tension with his usual dry humor wouldn't work.
"There's a big world out there and I'm not even allowed to see it," Caesar lamented. "I'm alive, but I'm just stuck in this little house, because no one can know I exist."
"I just want to be free," he said, somewhat impulsively.
"Look, Caesar, we're just worried about you, okay?" Joseph told his sculpture. "We're just afraid that someone would discover you and take you away. And we can't have that, can we? You're a prized creation I worked so hard on. You're a living, talking miracle. And most importantly, Caesar... you're my friend."
"You're precious in so many different ways," Suzi added.
Without a further word Caesar bowed his head sadly, and began to hop toward Joseph's room.
Joseph couldn't help but notice, however, that Caesar winced and groaned with every hop. It wasn't his usual grunts of effort. He sounded hurt.
"Caesar, let me check on you, will ya?" he asked, walking over to Caesar's side. Gently lifting him up --with Caesar too upset to retaliate-- he inspected the bust's underside, and grimaced.
"Now look what you've did to yourself, Caesar. You've chipped away your paint and got sand into your skin. I'm gonna have to clean and fix you up," he said with a frown.
------
Suzi watched as Joseph worked all night, repairing Caesar's damage that he'd sustained during his little trek in the yard. He skillfully used delicate carving tools and wet brushes to clear away the debris that had stuck themselves to Caesar's underside.
Caesar was leaned backwards against a wooden stand, so that Joseph could inspect his underside without having to lay him down and risking flattening his facial features. Caesar was not too pleased, however, and winced painfully and complained as Joseph got to work.
"I guess he doesn't appreciate you meddling with his butt," Suzi mused.
"I don't have a butt," Caesar grumbled.
"Well, I mean it sort of is your bottom, isn't it? Which would mean that you're technically sitting whenever you're upright..." she pondered.
"Don't you go overthinking everything too much," Caesar retorted, scrunching up his face at the sting of a splinter being pulled out of his base. "I know me existing at all raises a lot of questions I'd rather not answer."
Joseph, however, was more concerned about the fact that Caesar's underside was able to feel pain. "This is why we don't go barefoot on rough ground, Caesar."
Caesar rolled his eyes, as he often did with Joseph and his antics around. "What are you gonna do? Make me wear one big shoe?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, the mental image was funny enough to elicit a smile from both artists.
"Maybe," snarked Joseph in response, smirking.
Once Caesar's underside was clean, Joseph commenced on repainting it. He coated the base with a pale flesh tone, identical to the shade of the rest of Caesar's clay skin, and, with a few minutes of drying, Caesar looked good as new.
"Hold on, there's one more thing I ought to do," Joseph said, shaking a can of spray-on varnish. "Cover your noses everyone! Uh...or maybe just me and Suzi."
"I don't breathe but I can smell!" Caesar yelled, but too late to block out the harsh scent. Caesar groaned and wrinkled his face in disgust.
With a few loud spritzes and a few moments more for the clear varnish to harden, Joseph finally lifted Caesar back onto the floor. "So, what do you think? Does it still hurt?"
Caesar made a few experimental hops.
"Huh, it doesn't," he said, testing his newly-varnished base like a child with a new pair of sneakers. His thumps sounded a bit squeakier, and he could still feel the texture of the floor, but he felt less of the rough friction of the ground that rubbed against his bottom.
"This varnish should protect your butt in case you go scraping yourself around again. Not that you should be doing that to begin with, anyway." Joseph instructed.
"Yeah, sure," Caesar huffed. "And for the last goddamn time, I don't have a butt."
------
It was early the next morning when Suzi sat on the couch, lazily flipping through channels, when she saw Caesar squeakily hopping across the floor past her.
Her curiosity sparked, and she couldn't resist asking.
"Do you find hopping around on your neck difficult? I've seen you hop around all day and it looks like a tiring way to get around," she said, with a bit of pity.
Caesar twitched his rudimentary shoulders in what was his equivalent of a shrug. "It's the only way I am able to move, so I'm not complaining. I'm just glad I'm even able to move around at all," he said matter-of-factly.
"Besides, there isn't really much else for me to do, anyway. Hop over here, hop over there, bounce around until Joseph wants something to do with me, it's quite boring, really."
"Say, I've got some books to pass the time," Suzi said, seating herself down. Caesar eagerly hopped over to her side as she pulled out a book from her bag. "You do know how to read, don't you?" she asked Caesar.
"I can," Caesar replied. "I mean, I've only been alive less than a week, but yeah, somehow I can read."
"Really?" Suzi said, intrigued, as she presented him a book on Greek mythology from her literature class. "So there are things you just...know? Like how to speak fluent English? What places and things are called? Joseph's name, maybe?"
"Actually, he was wearing a nametag with 'Joseph' on it when we met, when I first awoke." Caesar corrected.
"But do you remember anything before that?"
Caesar's face went blank for a moment.
"Nothing. I may remember what things are, what words mean, but about me..." His voice just trailed away, and he shook his head sadly.
Suzi's attention was caught by a loud snoring from Joseph's room.
"Poor fella," Suzi said. "He was working really hard to fix you last night. He must be exhausted. He hasn't had a wink of sleep."
Caesar hummed regrettably. He couldn't help but felt guilty at having made Joseph labor all evening to repair the damages of his recklessness.
------------
That afternoon, as Joseph and Suzi sat at the dining table enjoying their lunch, Joseph decided to bring up a topic that everyone had been awkwardly skirting around since the beginning.
"Caesar has no body." Joseph said.
"Well, no shit, Sherlock," Caesar quipped, like he did the first day, from the living room floor. He was absorbed in Suzi's mythology book, using his nose to flip through the pages.
"Well, he's seemed to have gotten used to it," Suzi pondered. "He's gotten pretty independent."
"Yes, but he's just a head, and it's my fault! I created him!" Joseph said repentantly. "I wish there was something I could do about it."
Suzi raised an eyebrow. "You mean...make him a body?"
Joseph looked over to the living room, where he saw Caesar struggling to adjust the position of the book with his chin.
"It's the right thing to do, I guess. But...how?"
"We're gonna need clay. Lots of it. And I think I might know just the place."
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dudeandduchess · 4 years
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Giyuu x F!S/O: A Nightmare Come to Life (Angst, NSFW Scenario)
Summary: A one-sided love that turns even more tragic after a night spent together. Note: @biznichwrites and I are trying out an alternate reality collab fic, and this is the result. We have the same first half (which she wrote), and we divert into different endings. In Biz’s words, think of it as Yin and Yang. You can read Biz’s fluff-filled piece here. Word Count: 9,324
***
Warnings: Smut, Angst, Suicide, Depictions of Blood, Character Deaths, Love Triangles, Talks of the Afterlife
She had filled her head with pretty lies, thoughts of soft, fluffy things that tickled her stomach like butterflies. The sight of one of the few other water breath users - the pillar, in fact - brought a smile to her face. He was perfect for the role - eyes as blue as the ocean, steady like the waves, strong like a deep current, carving his own path like a river, yet calm like the water's surface at night.
What started as infatuation became a crush, leaving her whole world centered around him. Inside she knew she wouldn't grab his attention, even if she was one of a handful of slayers at the water estate. Their rarity made them all busy on missions, there wasn't much time to see each other in passing, so she treasured every moment spent in Giyuu's presence.
Despite their schedules, she tried to do more for him. The maintenance he had performed almost single handedly was spread among the both of them. Mending his uniforms when they were damaged, even his beloved haori once. Salmon was always stocked once she figured out it was his favorite, even going as far as to cook it just as he liked. That was a mistake on her part - his glowing smile pulled her in deeper.
Still she felt her heart ache over the months. No matter what she did he never spoke a word to her, not that he really spoke to anyone else. Had she done something to make him hate her?
The day she had given up on his heart came shortly after. It wasn't often she needed help or saving, but a lower moon was a bit beyond her hope to slay. She had kept neck and neck with it for some time, praying that a pillar would arrive to slay it before it ate her. Like written from a bad romance novel, her Pillar came just as she felt weak after hours of battling, his blade cutting through the neck of the lower moon with ease.
Her knight in shining armor, so to speak. He came to save her, specifically him. Her heart fluttered in joy, tears gathering in her eyes. Maybe he would be impressed that she managed to last so long, to stay alive and keep the moon busy until someone stronger arrived. Her breath hitched as she heard him inhale, as if to speak.
"He wasn't much trouble, you should have been able to slay him. If you're weak you should know not to challenge a moon." He hadn't spared a glance her way, simply flicking his sword to clear it of blood before sheathing it. Her heart broke as he walked on, leaving her to watch the mismatched haori on his back as the distance between them grew.
"Giyuu, you should try to get close to others! I know it's scary but there's plenty of people out there that are nicer than the way Shinobu makes it seem." Tanjirou smiled at the elder water slayer, urging Giyuu to connect to others the way they had, at the very least.
"I'm not sure about that. People don't like me." Giyuu sat with his legs pulled up by the bank of the river they stopped at.
"All you can do is try! Didn't you want to become friends with Sanemi?" Tanjirou wasn't going to let Giyuu escape this time, even if it meant some friendly pestering.
"Yeah, I think he likes ohagi so I was going to give him some." Giyuu stared into the distance, trying to imagine the violent man attempting to receive a gift.
"What about (Y/N)? She's been nice!" Tanjirou was hoping to point out anyone who had been kind to the pillar, at least someone who wasn't filled with malice.
"Who?" Giyuu's face went blank at the name, unable to recall who the name was attached to. "I quit remembering names of most slayers since they die so fast."
Tanjirou deflated at that, finding it sad for Giyuu to view life in such a bleak manner. It felt him grasping at straws to find the correct words to express himself as he thought of what to say next.
"You remembered me before I was a slayer! She survived a solo fight with a lower moon, I don't think she's dying any time soon, you know." Tanjirou hoped the other would understand what he was saying, at the very least.
"Oh… She didn't beat the moon, though." Giyuu, like a child that was done with the conversation, drew idly in the sand below them with a stick.
"Well we can work on the ohagi for Sanemi, how about that?"
Giyuu thought of the girl Tanjirou had mentioned. He didn't know what to make of it all - she had survived, which is what he was looking for in a friend, but she wouldn't have without help. At the same time neither would have Tanjirou. Perhaps he was being too critical, she was still alive and kicking to this day.
However he hadn't seen her much since then. Maybe she was training more? That was enough of an explanation for him. It wasn't unusual for the entire water estate to be empty with as few of the water breath users completed the final selection, much less survived long enough to rank high enough to live in the estate.
The next time he saw her, presumably after a mission as she was returning at dawn, he recognized her more than just a name. He bit his tongue, unsure what to say as he stood on the engawa staring at her tired body limping closer. The moment her eyes caught his she glanced away, turning towards another part of the estate to rest in.
He would have questioned it more, but occurrences like this weren't uncommon. People avoided him, that was normal. Yet the way she kept herself at a distance made him want to find out why she did such a thing. Why did she hide away from him?
His breath caught in his throat one morning, watching as she sat on the far end of the engawa in a simple yukata. She must be getting ready to sleep, given most slayers were nocturnal, but he thought she looked nice in the morning sun. Pretty even.
Months dragged along, her eyes never meeting his own. Yet he felt himself drawn to her. All the actions she had taken before - he hadn't forgotten them, but he hadn't fully appreciated them at the time either. She had done something for him without being asked with nothing in return. Someone that selfless couldn't be a bad person. He still felt a bit bitter with himself for being so critical with her, the same he felt with Tanjirou. Neither deserved that.
It wasn't until Murata and a few others had saved up a large sum of money to buy enough alcohol to drown all the demon slayers, that he had a chance to interact with her. The whole time he was tense, almost awkwardly staring at her the whole time.
"Earth to Giyuu, you there?" Really, Murata was the only one that talked to the pillar so freely, with the exception of Tanjirou. Having kept the pillar alive at one point gave him a bit of the right, so no one spoke of it.
"Hm?" Giyuu's head turned back to Murata, clearly not aware of anything he had just said.
"I was seeing if you were going to drink with us. We're celebrating a year of not losing any water breath users. I figured of anyone you'd want to join." Murata handed him a bottle, not really waiting for a response. Was it responsible for a pillar to drink? Not at all. Had they organized this with Kagaya in mind? Of course, they had consulted with him to make sure they could celebrate freely.
Giyuu stared at the bottle then back to Murata, eyes flickering between the two. "I've never drank before…"
"Now is a good time to start!" Murata laughed with a pat to the pillar shoulder before disappearing into a small bunch of slayers.
Giyuu had drank nearly half the bottle in the course of a few hours, but he didn't find himself relaxed. Rather he found himself in a flurry of emotions - sad remembering everyone he's lost, angry with himself for allowing his life to be ruined by both demons and his own mismanagement of his emotions, but most surprising of all he found himself jealous.
The only female slayer of the bunch was flirted with endlessly. Most of the less than classy lines were met by laughter by the slayers. He knew they were treating it as a joke, even when she pretended to be the man hitting on Murata pretending to be a woman, but he didn't like it. He rested knowing that it was all in fun, though.
His drunken eyes met hers, making her already flushed cheeks even more red than previously before she glanced away. He was happy she was mindful to wear hakama, least the drunk young men around them get any ideas.
"Murataaaaa, when are you gonna get a wife? You keep talking about settling down but you're doing a shit job at it." Her laughter was kind enough, even if she was poking fun.
"(Y/N)! You know I-I-I---! I'm trying! It's just difficult!" Murata floundered under the playful scrutiny before returning a rebuttal, "So when are you getting married (Y/N)?"
"You know I'm dying alone, don't ask dumb questions." She laughed, but the laughter joining her was awkward, quiet and confused. Technically she could pick any slayer and they'd say yes - just for a lack of women around them, especially ones that understood the nature of their jobs. A moment passed but no further comments or banter had been added to the conversation after her bleak comment. Her face heated realizing she had made a fool of herself, not that Murata was much better as he fumbled moving the conversation forward.
Giyuu watched as she tilted up the porcelain of her heated sake, taking in how her throat contracted as she gulped. Was it proper for her to drink like that? No. But it technically wasn't traditional for women to wield swords and hunt demons, so it wasn't like social protocol meant much to her anyway.
Almost silently she slipped away, padding over to her room at the far end of the estate. His eyes followed her movements, taking in the dejected way she looked. Was she broken-hearted? He didn't understand why, she was pretty in her own way, stronger than most gave her credit for, smart enough to stay alive. Maybe he was more fond of her than he let on.
After some time the men grew rowdy, playing games and raising their voices. Murata seemed to stop drinking after a certain point, clearly aware of his limits.
"Murata?" Said slayer turned his attention to Giyuu, almost surprised that he spoke. "Is there something wrong with (Y/N)? She left a bit ago."
"Oh… I made a mistake and brought up something I shouldn't have, she's probably just having some time to herself." Murata prayed the Pillar didn't press for more info, being one of the few she admitted the situation to. He was far too drunk to stop himself from slipping up.
"Is she sad?" The lower ranked slayer blinked at the question, taken aback at how simple it was.
"Yeah, she just has her ways of dealing with it - wait! Where are you going?" Giyuu stood, moving toward the woman's room without another word. Murata prayed it didn't make things worse.
The pillar stood outside her door, listening as her crying was muffled into hitched breaths and harsh inhales to quiet herself. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the alcohol in his system, but he slowly pushed the shoji open and closed it quietly behind him.
"Is there something wrong?" He was trying to be nice but the jump of surprise from her was clearly not the reaction he was searching for. Her hand rested above her heart in surprise before gripping the cloth in anguish.
"I'm fine. You can go back to the others." Her head tilted away, not meeting his eyes.
"I'm sure Murata didn't mean to upset you. Did something happen? Did you lose your fiancé?" It was the only explanation he could rationalize why she wouldn't take a spouse when she had her choice of men flirting with her earlier.
"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone." She flopped back down on her futon, facing away from him. He wished she didn't look so pretty or the light of the moon didn't accentuate the curves of her waist and hips. Despite her words he never left, she knew at the lack of sound her shoji made when open and shut.
Rather he shuffled closer, nowhere near as elegant as he usually moved. Still he slid his fingers into her hair, finding himself rationalizing the feel of her hair with the need to soothe her.
"I'm sure you could find a husband in the slayers if you're worried about that." He didn't like it, especially the thought of not being able to freely look at her and the risk of never being able to touch her again.
"I said my plan was to die alone, it's not that complicated."
"Why?"
"Men don't want a woman like me." Her words croaked from her throat and he could help but sink into the futon and pull her back to his chest. His nose was pressed to the back of her hair and he could bask in her scent.
"That's not true." The more of her he got, the greedier he became. He wanted to remind her that the other water breath users would marry her, but she clearly wasn't interested.
"You don't know that." He felt her back trembling as she held back her distress and he hugged her closer. "I'm covered in scars, I can barely fight and I'm a pitiful slayer, I don't have anything to my name but what I wear, I'm not pretty and dainty like other girls-"
Her hands covered her mouth. She was complaining to the very person that filled her with insecurities. Deep inside she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter. Her love for him had soured, painting her into a corner of self-depreciation. She knew this wasn't him, this was some drunken version of the man likely looking to have a piece of her.
For what it was worth, she would let him. At least it would be the final chapter to the broken heart saga of her life.
"None of that is true."
"I don't need lies to make me feel better."
He was growing a bit frustrated. His hand gripped her waist, both keeping her still and holding her to him. He was painfully aware he could slide his hands lower to grip the curve of her hips or slide his hands upward to cup her breasts.
"You're pretty. A good slayer. You're good as you are." He couldn't think of anything more grand to say, not that he was eloquent with words anyway. He prayed she understood, but the pause in her response made fear eat at his chest. Had he said the wrong thing?
"...Did you want to sleep with me?" That was the only conclusion she could think of. He was drunk and needed a body that was willing. If he was into women she was the closest one, and considering she was the only one in the estate he had to act fast.
"Sleep with you?" His words were quiet, as if he was scared to say them loud enough.
"As in sex. Did you want to have sex with me?" She was only so bold because she was facing away from him. The alcohol and bitter feeling in her chest brought up the question, but she could never work up the nerve to ask if she was looking directly at him.
He buried his face against her neck weighing the options. She was drunk, but so was he. There was no way either should do this. At the same time he doubted the option would ever be available again, especially as his attraction to her grew.
"Yes…"
He hovered over her, pushing in deeply with a moan. Her eyes had shed so many tears through the night, even more when he undressed her, but he couldn't help but to find her more addicting than before.
"You're so warm, oh fuck…" His head rested against her shoulder as he found himself able to thrust into her depths. "You're so beautiful, so perfect."
He heard her crying harder, moans of pleasure breaking through her moans of agony. Long had passed the attempts to calm her tears, especially when she grew nervous when he saw her naked.
He never missed her whispers of self-depreciation, how she fought all compliments that slipped from his lips as he undressed her layer by layer. Even if she found herself disgusting he couldn't agree with her. Every scar he uncovered, every little imperfection his eyes found cemented his infatuation.
It was her, something so unique to only her. No one else could replicate every little aspect of her.
Yet he couldn't make her stop crying. Soft whispers of praise didn't just fall on def ears but only pushed her into further despair. Every kind thing he said only brought more tears.
He didn't miss how her hips canted into his, how her eyes grew hazy as pleasure set in - the way her lips trembled after he kissed her, the second of hope in her eyes before she turned her head away.
The soft hiccups between whimpers were never lost on him. They came at his every kiss and praise, every moment he touched her in a way she enjoyed. As if some part of her wanted to receive his adoration before becoming buried in negativity.
She couldn't deny it, either. Simply knowing he didn't despise her, or at least a part of her, both healed and hurt her. For a moment she had some value to him. She was someone worthy of his sole attention.
Rough hands graced her body, pushing her hair from her face before guiding down her neck to cup her breast, gently squeezing her nipples before tracing her scars down her torso. When he reached her hips one hand held firm while the other graced the area above where they were joined. He remembered in a haze that men had talked about women feeling good there. A clit? All he knew is that her legs tightened around his hips the moment his thumb grazed the tip of the bud.
Abusing such a sensitive spot to see her reactions was a bit cruel on his part, but he wanted to see her relieved of her tears. It was time she felt good - both in terms of sex and about herself. He basked in the moment he hands left her face to cling to the bedding below her.
Dipping down he kissed her lips again, taking in how she seemed to squeeze tighter at the simple piece of affection. Despite the fact she felt inferior he adored having her like this - seeing her broken, in a way no one else has seen before, and the ability to see her put back together again. The vulnerability neither showed the world, only shared with the other.
He shifted his hips, thrusting deeper than before. She clenched around him in ways that made him regret never considering doing this sooner. At the same time, he knew their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. Their suffering was similar in a sense, they both could understand not having any value in themselves. Had he really been so blind to her all this time?
"You're so good." His head fell to her shoulder as his hips jerked into her warmth. The man felt elation when she gave in and clung to him. At first her hands were lightly touching, only loosely circling his back. Even if he wasn't sober he recognized enough of her reactions to make her react how he wanted.
Kisses were placed to her cheek and jaw as he tilted his head from her shoulder. Her breath shuttered, her nails timidly scratching his skin as her hold grew more firm.
He didn't expect her to orgasm from such simple affection but he couldn't explain why else her core felt as if it were milking his cock. Her arms and legs tightened around him, pulling him flush against her as her face buried into the curve of his neck.
It was welcoming to hear a cry of pleasure rather than anguish. The sound graced him, bringing him to climax shortly after her. Had he been sober he would have been more mindful of mindlessly cumming inside her without a second thought. For the moment he wanted to bask in the feeling. The afterglow of sex was only highlighted by the feeling on her nuzzling into his neck.
For a moment she accepted him. Someone liked him, even if he could still hear her hiccup as warm tears covered her cheeks again. He considered wiping her tears away but decided that he would rather let her hide against his chest. It was somewhere safe, where the judgements of the world that had brought her so low couldn't touch her.
Her heart throbbed at the feeling of him holding her close, even as they shifted to lay chest to chest on the futon. His cum dripping out to dirty her thighs wouldn't deter her for enjoying the moment. Regret and shame could come later, for now she wanted to accept just a grain on the validation he gave. Even if he regretted in the morning she wanted to savor the moment.
*** [Jen’s part starts here]
When morning came, Giyuu greeted it with a heavy heart and an even heavier head. Flashes of what he’d done the night before played in his mind; and with every memory that flickered in his mind’s eye, he felt his heart sink deeper and deeper into the pit that was his stomach.
It was true that he realized that he was fonder of (Y/n) than most, but he was in no way prepared to take on the responsibility of caring for someone else’s emotions. He could barely even keep himself in check, who was to say that he could help heal her broken heart?
Especially when he was the one whom had broken it in the first place.
There was nothing more that he wanted to do than to get out of that room before she woke up, but the sight of her curled up beneath the lilac blanket had him staying right where he was. The least he could do was tell it to her straight, instead of running away like a coward.
He had to tell her that what had happened between them was a mistake.
And that was how (Y/n) came to: seeing Giyuu sitting right next to her— with his clothes already on, and with his head in his hands, as if the weight of the world had been perched on his shoulders.
A small smile made its way onto her face as she sat upright— gripping the blanket tight to her naked chest, and gently laying a hand against his arm. Only, instead of welcoming her touch, the Pillar’s body tensed up.
She felt her heart sink at that, as her smile dissolved into a confused frown. Had she done something wrong? Was last night not good for him? Did he find her repulsive in the morning light? Those thoughts kept flitting around inside her head, weighing her emotions down even more than they were when her brain had been addled with so much alcohol.
Slowly, she retracted her hand away from him and moved to tuck the blanket beneath her arms— holding them up to cover her modesty, even though she knew that he’d already seen everything. There was just something about being around him at that moment that had her feeling so insecure of herself; like she’d known all along, no one would have found her appealing, least of all the Water Pillar.
Giyuu tried to reach into himself to find the right words to say, almost clinging on to the notion of spouting lies in his desperation to spare her feelings. But he couldn’t do that to her, not after he’d taken the last thing she had left to offer him, aside from his heart.
“Thank you for last night,” The young man began softly, and his words felt like a harsh slap to (Y/n)’s face. Because those words weren’t the words of love that she’d fantasized about; they were cold and flat, as if he was saying them out of politeness instead of sincerity.
She’d known that it was going to be impossible to make him fall in love with her; but it didn’t hurt any less to have him try to gently turn her down, just as he was doing at that moment. Everything in her wanted her to scream and rage, to make him do the impossible task of turning back time— if only so she could push him away.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, even though she tried so hard to keep herself from showing him any kind of reaction. Her chest grew even heavier with the silent expectations that she’d had for his next few words— mentally bracing herself for a spiel that was going to push her away from him for good.
“But last night… can’t happen again. It was never supposed to happen.”
Still, when he uttered the words, she couldn’t help but flinch and look down at her lap— where her hands were worrying the lilac-colored blanket between her fingertips. And, no matter how hard she tried to push back her tears, they still welled up in her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks in hot rivulets.
Words had eluded her, as all she could think about was Giyuu’s own sentence that more or less said that sleeping with her had been a mistake.
“I can’t be in a relationship with anyone right now; I won’t be good for you, nor will I be good for anyone else.”
(Y/n) pursed her lips at that, cutting off the sob that wanted to escape her lips, as his words burrowed themselves deep into her heart— cutting her deeper and deeper until she felt like there was nothing left inside her chest.
Instead of staying, however, Giyuu slowly got up from where he sat and made his way over to the door— pointedly avoiding looking at the crying woman, whom was barely holding herself together in his presence. “I’m sorry, (L/n). Please forget everything that happened last night.”
The slayer couldn’t even bring herself to look up at him, even well after he had closed the shoji quietly behind himself. Her entire body felt so helplessly broken and cold, numb down to the tips of her fingers, and easily fragile even as she moved to hug herself in an effort to hold herself together.
That was the last day she had ever talked to Giyuu, let alone even looked at him. It made for an awkward time around the Water Estate, so she had gotten in contact with the one person whom she knew she could count on to save her.
It was a desperate attempt to cling on to Sanemi, but it was all she could do when she had been backed into a corner with no other option. It was either she moved in with her childhood friend, or risked Giyuu finding out the secret that she so desperate wanted to keep from him.
She would not have acted so delicately in any other situation, but as time went on— she noticed that Giyuu had been coming back to the estate later and later; until he would be gone for days at a time with no word to anyone if he was out on a mission or on an errand.
The Pillar she had known was not like that at all, so it was a cause for suspicion.
(Y/n) had tried to avoid him as much as she could, but doing her old tasks of mending his uniform and haori, as well as washing his clothes had been hard to let go of— as everyone already had a routine that they had stuck to, and no one was willing to switch chores with her, unless she told them the real reason why she suddenly wanted to switch to doing kitchen tasks instead.
And in doing those tasks, she slowly found that his uniforms and haori were always newly mended, with the subtle signs of a feminine touch. But it wasn’t until she’d seen the embroidered heart on the sleeve of his haori that she’d arrived at the conclusion that he was seeing someone.
His words of how he couldn’t be in a relationship with anyone played in her mind, as a bitter laugh bubbled free from her lips— which was then followed by such quiet and breathless sobs that made her feel even sorrier for herself.
Because there she was, still in love with the same man whom had turned down her love and was adamant about not being in a relationship with her. Only to find out that he was seeing someone else; maybe even loved that someone.
That would explain why he was brooding less often on the rare days when he stayed in the estate, and would also explain why his overall aura seemed lighter than before.
Of course, it hurt, and she knew that she couldn’t keep turning a blind eye to it— not when his mere presence was an insult to her pain.
That was how she found herself moving in with Sanemi and telling him everything that had happened between her and Giyuu, before eventually coming clean with the fact that she was two months along with a baby— Giyuu’s baby, to be exact.
Sanemi had offered to take the child in as his own, and had even made hints of wanting to marry (Y/n)— all of which she had adamantly refused. Because she couldn’t do to anyone else what Giyuu had done to her, and that was use her.
“I can take care of you. No one would even dare to say anything if the baby doesn’t look like me, as long as I say that I’m the father,” Sanemi had insisted, cupping her face gently in his hands and wiping her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Please, (Y/n)… let me take care of you.”
Little did she know that Sanemi’s words weren’t being said out of a false sense of duty, rather for something completely genuine and heartfelt. He felt for her what Giyuu never did, yet Sanemi was too hesitant to put any pressure on her— as he was ready to keep her in any way he could, rather than lose her altogether.
The Wind Pillar loved her too much to do that to her, so he lived most of their life keeping his own feelings to himself. It hurt to see her pine after a man who didn’t want her in the first place, and it hurt him even more when he found out that she had been used the way she had, so enough was enough.
He had wholeheartedly accepted her to move into the Wind Estate, ushering her to just leave her things at the Water Estate— all so she wouldn’t have to bear witness to more of Giyuu’s thinly concealed happiness.
It took everything in him not to throttle the Water Pillar the last time they’d had a meeting at the Demon Slayer headquarters, because that content expression on Giyuu’s face grated so badly on his nerves— especially since he always heard (Y/n)’s soft cries at night, when she thought that everyone was already asleep.
Even being near Giyuu made Sanemi’s hackles rise, because he believed that he shouldn’t be so content with his life— not when he had left (Y/n) hurting by herself. To add insult to injury, Giyuu hadn’t even asked anyone for (Y/n)’s whereabouts— which he had initially expected to happen.
But it appeared that Sanemi had expected too much, because it seemed that the other Pillar didn’t even care at all. He didn’t even give any indication that he was worried about (Y/n) at all; and that only angered Sanemi even more.
He would be damned if he even let Giyuu get a glimpse of (Y/n) or her child ever again. So, he swore to never let the Water Pillar close enough to hurt the person he loved the most; never again.
***
All the while, Giyuu felt like he was walking on cloud nine. For once in his life, he felt content and mildly happy in the arms of his lover. However, that contentedness could only last so long, until the thoughts of that night with (Y/n) played in his mind.
Every kiss and every touch plagued him when he was weakest, and the more that he dwelled on his guilt, the more that he felt empty inside; as if the happiness he felt showed its true nature by being fleeting and temporary.
He tried to mask it at first, pretending to keep up the act that nothing was bothering him— just like how he’d felt in the first few months with his lover. The words he’d said to (Y/n) the morning after had him shaking his head to get rid of them, and it was easy to ignore at first— until it had gotten up to the point where he couldn’t even have a moment’s peace without his words coming to gnaw at his conscience.
He knew that he’d done (Y/n) so much wrong by lying to her like that— by telling her that he wasn’t suited to be with anyone when, in reality, he just wasn’t ready to open his heart up to her; at least, not at the time. It was easier to open his heart up to someone who didn’t have a clue that demons existed— someone whom he knew he wouldn’t be able to lose, if he just kept them in the dark.
He had let his own irrational fears decide for him, but what was done had already been done— and he couldn’t take anything back.
His shame and guilt were the main reasons why he never sought her out, even though he had heard that she was living with Shinazugawa at that point.
Did he feel guilty? Yes. Was it taking its toll on his newfound relationship? Definitely.
Giyuu had gotten to the point where he couldn’t even close his eyes without seeing how broken (Y/n) was when he’d left her in her room.
And it wasn’t until he’d seen (Y/n) come back to the Water Estate with Shinazugawa that things had snapped into place for him. Jealousy stirred within his chest, especially when he saw the care and gentleness that the Wind Pillar treated her with— and he found himself wishing that it was him in his place.
The way that the silver-haired Pillar was acting towards her could have been construed as how a husband would act with a wife, and Giyuu found the thought of (Y/n) being married to his comrade leaving a bad taste in his mouth.
Still, he could only look on from outside her room, as they picked out the things that she wanted to take— namely: her family’s mementos.
And no matter how hard he tried to talk to her, Sanemi made a point to cut him off and take up all of her attention; leaving him feeling so unneeded and uselessly dismissed to the side, as if he didn’t even matter.
Giyuu couldn’t even say anything as they left with nothing but a small rucksack of the things she had wanted to bring— leaving her room in pretty much the same state as she had left it in, in the first place.
He’d tried to get a hold of her after that, sending her numerous letters via crow and always getting them sent back in an untouched state. All that was left for him to do was go and visit her at the Wind Estate, but he was saving that last desperate attempt for when he really needed it most.
But, not even his lover’s company was enough to keep his mind off of (Y/n); always seeing her face in his mind whenever he closed his eyes, and silently wishing that it was him that she had been talking to and softly smiling at on that day when she returned to his Estate.
He wished that he was Shinazugawa, all so he could have her in his arms again.
So, that was how he found himself ending things with his civilian lover; feeling horrible that he hadn’t felt as much guilt when ending things with her, as opposed to how he felt when he pushed (Y/n) away.
When he’d gotten back to his estate the morning after breaking things off with his lover, he found things much more silent than usual. There was no activity in any part of the grounds, and it seemed that there were no slayers in the house; even those who should have been asleep weren’t there.
It was as if his estate had suddenly become a ghost town.
And it was only in the afternoon, as he was sipping on his tea, that he found out exactly what the cause of everyone’s absence was.
Murata staggered into the house with his arms slung over two other slayers’ shoulders. His face was all red and blotchy, while his cheeks were marred with both fresh and dried tear tracks that had Giyuu setting his tea cup down and listening in to what was happening.
“I can’t believe that she’s gone,” Murata cried through a sob, shaking his head in disbelief as the two other men carried him through the halls— stopping right by the doors that led to the engawa, and bowing as a show of respect to Giyuu.
“Gone? Who?” The Pillar asked softly, feeling a tinge of uneasiness touch his chest as he waited in nervous anticipation for his subordinates’ answers.
However, the lower ranked slayers looked between each other before one of them spoke up, “It’s (L/n), Tomioka-sama. She was found dead last night… by seppuku.”
Giyuu felt as if his entire world had stopped at hearing the news. His entire body felt cold, and his heart had all but stopped beating inside his chest. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes, as he furrowed his eyebrows in bewildered confusion— and denial.
His heart, which he had held so carefully within himself, began to crack with every shaky exhale that passed from his lips. And he tried opening his mouth to speak, only to close it when no words would come out— until his own tears spilled over and ran down his face in hot rivulets.
He hadn’t wasted anymore time after that; instantly making his way towards the Wind Estate and getting there when dusk had long since bathed the world in darkness.
Lanterns lit up the path that led to the estate, where people were trickling out of the gates in either pairs of small groups. Most of them were expressing their pity towards the husband of the deceased, which confused Giyuu immensely; not to mention the fact that it harped on his nerves, as his jealousy reared its ugly head inside him.
“I heard that she was five months along. Poor child.”
He pushed past the thinning crowd, feeling his heart begin to race even more as reality slowly began to set in.
She really was gone.
And it was only when he reached the wake that had been set up in the backyard that the tears he’d thought had long run empty began to roll down his cheeks once more.
Flowers adorned each and every vacant space of the altar that (Y/n)’s body had been laid on; all of them in a creamy white color that seamlessly mirrored the kimono she wore. But it wasn’t the ornate kimono, or the grandiose display that caught Giyuu’s attention; it was the smaller, but not less ornate, kimono that had been laid over (Y/n)’s chest— with her hands cupped over it, as if protecting it from the world.
He felt the last bit of his heart wilt away at the sight of it, because a part of him just knew… that child was his; or, it had been.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I didn’t invite you.” A familiar voice snarled behind Giyuu, making him whirl around and meet Sanemi’s angry lilac eyes. They were more bloodshot than usual, and seemed puffy— as if he had just gotten done crying.
“I have a right to be here.”
“The fuck you do. You did this to her!” Sanemi yelled angrily, shoving the other Pillar with all the strength he could muster, and knocking him down onto the ground before the altar. At that point, more tear had overflowed from his eyes, and were dripping down his face; yet he made no move to wipe them away. “I loved her. I wanted to give her the world, but all she wanted was a bastard like you!”
The Wind Pillar lunged at Giyuu at that point, unmindful of the bewildered crowd around them as he reared his fist back and landed a solid punch to Giyuu’s face.
“You’re the reason she’s gone! You don’t deserve to fucking see her again!” Before he could throw another punch, Sanemi was pulled off of Giyuu by two pairs of strong arms— and when Giyuu looked up, it was to see both Gyōmei and Rengoku looking down at him with what he could only construe as pity.
Still, as his fellow Pillars pulled Sanemi away, he could still hear the other man’s cries of how he had never deserved to even look at (Y/n) in the first place.
Giyuu looked back at where (Y/n) laid, feeling shame envelope him more and more the longer he stared at her from his place on the ground. He didn’t even make a move to stand up, because he was so ashamed of what he had done to her.
And, for once, he agreed with Sanemi: he had never really deserved to even look at (Y/n) in the first place.
Still, the longer he looked at her body, the more he felt his guilt gnawing at him. The longer that he took her in, the more that he couldn’t keep himself from thinking just how much pain she had been in when she was dying.
He couldn’t help but think that she had suffered all of that pain, just so she could be free of him. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
***
To say that Giyuu felt tired was the understatement of the century. He was so torn and beat up, and missing one arm as he waited for death to consume him. He couldn’t even feel anything as he felt the last ounces of life drain away at his fingertips.
But, in his last moments, all that filled his mind were thoughts of (Y/n) and all of his regrets— as all of them had to do with her and their unborn child.
He knew that he shouldn’t have pushed her away like that; that things could have been different had he stayed and tried to open his heart up to her. He also knew that things would have been different— that he would have been happy in his final moments— had he tried to give (Y/n) the life that she deserved.
If he had just tried to love her back, instead of taking so long to realize the real extent of his feelings for her, then maybe— just maybe— he would have been fighting even harder to stay alive.
Images of what he thought their child would have looked like flickered in his mind; each one bringing more tears to his eyes than the last. He saw her holding their child, smiling at him so warmly as she welcomed him home— a thought that would never come true, because he had been the one who’d pushed her to end her own life.
And, in her death, all those dreams of the simple life they could have had as a family plagued him— as if it were an alternate reality that was playing in his mind whenever he found enough solace to fall asleep. In his dreams she was happy— greeting him so warmly at their own home after he came home from a mission.
But the part that made his heart ache the most were the images of a baby boy— with blue eyes, much like his— who would crawl on the floor just to get to him; clinging tightly to his hakama just so he could stand up on his own two feet and demand to be carried.
“Papa, up! Yuu miss papa!” The boy would cry out, almost close to tears as he looked up at Giyuu earnestly. And, like always, it would make the Water Pillar’s heart ache— because it was another reminder of what he could have had, but had chosen to let go of.
Happiness was within his grasp, yet he’d thrown it away out of fear. He’d cast (Y/n) aside and had never tried to make amends, so it was his own fault that she was gone.
She hadn’t wanted to be a burden to Sanemi, and she hadn’t wanted to beg for scraps of his affection— so she had done what she thought was necessary to free him and the Wind Pillar of any sort of obligation to her.
He’d only found that out after Shinazugawa had— reluctantly— given him a short letter that wasn’t even meant for his eyes. They were only meant for Sanemi, but the other pillar had wordlessly given him the piece of paper during one of their Pillar meetings, and had not spoken to him since.
A tourniquet had been wrapped around his wound, yet he still felt nothing as medics raced to patch him up as best as they could. He couldn’t even lift his head up, what with the heaviness of his thoughts weighing him down.
Giyuu could only let his head loll to the side as he took in the way that the only remaining Pillar— aside from him— had been wrapped tightly in bandages. But, he’d noticed, that he kept his right hand enclosed tightly around something.
The medics had tried to get him to let go of it, after they’d thought that he was already asleep— but were met with hostile glares and snarls that warned them to stay away from whatever he had been holding.
And it was only when Sanemi had already passed out that he saw what the other man had been tightly holding on to: it was the very necklace that (Y/n) had come back for that day at his estate. He’d seen it briefly when he had been waiting for her to wake up, and there was no mistaking it— it really was (Y/n)’s.
He felt his chest tighten at the sight of it, and part of him longed to reach out and claim it for himself; but another part of him— the more rational and conscientious side— had him stay right where he was.
After all, he was the reason that she was gone in the first place. Just like he was the reason that his sister had died, and also why Sabito had died.
And as he thought more about it, the more he realized that all he brought to others were pain and suffering— and death.
So maybe, dying at that moment was a fair price to pay for all the people he’d hurt in that lifetime. He could only hope to see his sister and Sabito briefly, or maybe even (Y/n), before he accepted his fate in hell.
BONUS:
Cold, icy fear gripped (Y/n)’s heart tightly; the pressure only getting heavier and heavier on her chest as she placed a shaky hand on top of her abdomen— ignoring the warm blood that had already soaked through her yukata, and was slowly pooling on the floor where she sat.
She couldn’t even lift her head with the shame she felt weighing down on her shoulders, because she had chosen the most cowardly way to go. It wasn’t what she had been raised to believe in, but it was the only form of escape she could think of.
Still she hoped, and prayed, that Sanemi would never resort to blaming himself for her decision to end it all; and that Giyuu would find it in himself to forgive her.
At the very thought of Giyuu, more broken sobs left her chapped lips— making her muscles contract, and agitating her self-inflicted wound even further. It hurt so much that she just wanted it to be over— that she just wanted to feel her life drain out of her at a faster pace— but she knew she deserved to feel all of the hurt that she could in her last few moments.
She deserved to suffer, not because she was taking the coward’s way out, but because she was taking an innocent life along with her.
Her hands moved to cup the small baby bump on her stomach, knowing that whatever life that had been in there was already gone— or already close to being gone. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Her words repeated themselves over and over in her head— inevitably bringing her back to the moment when she had written the very same words, with shaky hands, on parchment; immortalizing them in a letter that she had addressed to Giyuu.
I loved you when I didn’t even love myself. And that was wrong of me. I’m so sorry, Giyuu.
More tears rolled down her cheeks, as her heartache doubled at the memory of writing the words down played in her mind. She could feel what was left of her soul slowly chipping away, with guilt and fear gnawing at it for having claimed to love a man that she knew would never even love her.
I’m sorry to the child that could have been; a broken mother, and a father who didn’t want it… I couldn’t do that to it. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me, Giyuu.
Please, it’s all I ask… that in another lifetime, if you ever see me again, that you would not hate me for doing what I thought was best for you and the baby.
Maybe, in another life, in an alternate reality, we could have been happy… just not in this one.
Her head was beginning to spin with the blood loss, and she knew that it wouldn’t take long before she finally met her fate— so, with one last prayer, she asked the spirits of her deceased family members to take care of her child when she crossed over, and to look after Giyuu.
All because she knew that she would never be able to do it from hell.
“I’m so sorry,” were her last words to the life that had been inside her, before she slowly succumbed to her mortality.
And, when she came to, it was to a cold and desolate place that was filled with nothing but darkness. No matter where she looked, all she could see was pitch black.
Of course, she was afraid, but all of that fear vanished when she looked down at her arms and saw a tiny child that was swathed in a white blanket. Her breath caught in her throat, as guilt bubbled up inside her— lodging itself in her throat and making her tear up as she took in more and more of its features in the dim light trained on her.
With the lightest touch she could muster, she lifted her right hand up to the baby’s cheek and traced its smooth cheek— gasping softly when it opened its eyes and presented her with irises that were much like Giyuu’s blue ones.
“Hello, you must be (Y/n).” The soft and melodic voice had the young woman jumping in surprise— tightening her grip around her baby and holding him closer to her chest, as if to protect it from the stranger. And when she looked up, she was met with the face of two women— much more beautiful than her, and with presences so comforting that it made her want to hug them and cry in their arms. “I’m Tsutako. Tomioka Tsutako.”
(Y/n)’s eyes widened at that, as she knew that Giyuu had had an older sister once upon a time; someone he had never mentioned, but had been talked about within the lower ranks of the slayers— and it was, regretufully, how she knew.
“You might not remember me, but I’m Shizu…” The other woman whispered, smiling slightly all the while.
“I… you’re Sanemi’s mother. I remember,” (Y/n) admitted quietly, trying to hold back her tears as reality sank in: she really was in the afterlife. She’d died and brought her child along with her.
She didn’t even dare to ask why they were there; she already knew the reason. Her family’s spirits had ostracized her and didn’t even bother to show themselves to take her baby to heaven with them. It was a thought that stung her deeply, but she had no choice but to shoulder it and try to pretend that it wasn’t affecting her at all.
All so she could save face.
(Y/n)’s eyes flitted from one woman’s gaze to another, knowing full well whom she was supposed to go with, and what she was supposed to do. Yet, her limbs stayed frozen— wanting to hold on to her baby for a little longer, even though she knew that they didn’t have forever to stay in limbo.
She looked down once more at hers and Giyuu’s son, inhaling deeply as she brought him up to her face and pressed a kiss to his forehead; desperately fighting off the tears that had clouded her vision, and had begun to stream down her face in hot rivulets.
It felt like her heart was breaking all over again, as soon as she’d had a momentary taste of happiness.
“Please take care of him,” (Y/n) whispered, nuzzling the tip of her nose against her baby’s cheek and memorizing how he smelled like; as it was the first and last time that she was ever going to see him. “And please always tell him how much his mama would have loved him. And that she’s sorry for not giving him a chance to live.”
Her tears had dripped onto the now-sleeping baby’s face, which she wiped off with the tips of her fingers— right before hugging him close one last time; savoring every second that ticked by, before she reluctantly stepped towards Tsutako and handed him off to her.
“Your father would have adored you.” Giyuu’s older sister gave (Y/n) a sad smile at that, fully knowing what it was like to have to say goodbye to someone she loved, and held the swathed bundle close to her heart. “Does he have a name?”
“Yuu. His name is Yuu.”
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