#but i ended up in stem and now i feel so far away from those high school English courses

[st-danger]

Please please please please a single ficlet expanding on Predator Aeon and “prey” Swiss! 🙏😭🙏😭🙏😭🙏

If he listens, really listens- not just with his ears, but with little tendrils of quintessence that he plucks out of the air and extends forward- he can hear just how loud Swiss's heart is racing. The stretch of his lungs when he draws a breath.

Swiss has to pause; Aeon can feel how hard he's been working, how much energy he's expended on the chase so far, and he bends over, hands on his knees, panting. Gold eyes darting around in the darkness of the woods, trying to be alert and aware for any tip off that Aeon is close.

He is.

Less than fifteen feet away, if that. A generous estimate. Aeon leans against a tree and strokes the rough bark of it, a self-soothing little gesture. He's so keyed up now, trying his best to conceal his own laboured breaths, though they stem more from excitement and less from exhaustion. Aeon can run, and he has been, but he hasn't been running the way Swiss has, desperate to keep enough distance between them where he's just far enough out of reach where Aeon cannot spin magick around him.

Alas.

Aeon squints, focusing, and caresses the air with two thin fingers. Swiss grunts with surprise, bats at the back of his neck to shake off an imaginary touch, and ends up stumbling over his own feet, falling forward in the process. The full moon above reflects enough light down on them, and the tension it doesn't show, Aeon can feel anyway. Can smell.

"Cheap shot," Swiss calls out, to the forest around him. He can't see where Aeon is; he's put too much into melting into the shadows, and Swiss's attention darts around too quickly to see anything. If he'd been calmer, he might have caught the strange distortion by the tree, the weird, warbling ink beside it.

Alas.

Throwing the disguise off like a jumper onto the floor, Aeon pounces.

He's on him before Swiss has time to turn around, to realize where the sound of feet against leaves and twigs comes from, and Aeon has him shoved into the forest floor quickly, forcing a grunt from Swiss as the air is knocked out of him. A hand on the back of his neck, straddling, pressing- Aeon sits fat in his pants. He's been excited since this started, but now that he has Swiss's exhausted, struggling form underneath him, he's filling out in earnest with little ceremony. Grinding it into his back while he struggles to keep Swiss down.

"No, no," Aeon laughs, breathless and ecstatic, "stay down buddy." He tries his best to hold him, he really does- he had been hoping to wear him out a little more, get him tired out, get those strong legs tired so he wouldn't be able to kick the way he's doing now. He usually likes to draw it out more. Subconsciously he must really have been wanting a fight. Swiss flails, grunting, trying to reach back and swat at him, kick his legs out from under Aeon's slinky frame, but the weight of him, the quintessence licking into his brain telling him to relax, to let go, to give up gives Aeon a chance. "Got you," he tells Swiss. "I won."

"Haven't won shit yet," Swiss manages, still trying to throw him off, wiggle free, drag himself away.

Aeon adores him for so very many reasons. Getting his money's worth from these hunts is one of them.

"Gonna fuck you," Aeon groans, and presses himself flush against his back so he can grind his cock against Swiss's ass. Make him feel what this has done to him, what he's going to take. The smell of rich, damp earth gets stronger as they disturb the forest floor, kicking and smearing the dirt, and the heady combination of it combined with the desperation Swiss is throwing off makes Aeon a little woozy. "Gonna give me my prize?" Punctuates the question by reaching down and grabbing a handful of Swiss's ass, squeezing hard enough to be uncomfortable.

It's a miscalculation.

The shift in weight is enough for Swiss to shrug out from under, rearing back sharp and sudden, and Aeon is thrown on to his back, trapping his own leg beneath him. It's a solid connection against the dirt, and the sense of loss he feels when Swiss slides from his grasp is devastating. Panicky, he reaches for Swiss, swiping to grab a shoulder, a shirt, to touch him long enough to force some magick into his body to stun him long enough to get a chance to clamber on top once more.

The slap comes as a surprise, a firm crack against his cheek from a large, warm hand that makes him gasp, stunning him long enough to shift the balance. Swiss is on him in a second, a hand on his throat, choking, holding. Aeon claws at his forearm, writhing underneath the weight of the thick thighs bracketing his frame.

"What a nasty piece of work you are," Swiss huffs, while Aeon kicks and wheezes for breath he does not get.

Aeon may be fast, and he might have quintessence on his side, but Swiss is strong. Swiss has enough quintessence flowing through his mish-mash of elements to recognize it, to brush it off like crumbs on a table. Another slap to his face and Aeon whimpers with it, desperate to breathe. A more seasoned ghoul could still work magick in a situation like this, he's sure, but Aeon can't find the concentration to will anything to happen. Swiss is choking him, humping him- Aeon can feel him thick and blood hot through his thin track pants, rubbing himself against Aeon's body the way he'd been doing to Swiss moments before.

Aeon taps frantically at Swiss's forearm, and Swiss releases his throat. Aeon coughs, fiending for breath, sucking deep lungfuls until Swiss leans forward and shoves their mouths together, forcing his tongue deeper than Aeon is ready for, licking in until Aeon is grabbing at his shirt to keep him near.

"Need it bad," Swiss growls, and Aeon isn't sure if he's speaking to him, or voicing his own desire aloud. He isn't sure it matters. Not really. There's a hand in his hair, a hand gripping his face, his chin so hard it hurts. "C'mon you little cunt." Another grind of their dicks together and Aeon's brain short-circuits, heart hammering away while he goes dizzy. "C'mon and give it up, pretty boy."

"Make me," Aeon says, because he can. Because there's still some fight left in them both even if there isn't much. Swiss's tongue is back in his mouth, cutting off any further challenges. Deep, wet strokes, tasting him like he means to wholly consume, fingers digging into his jaw and dimpling the skin. Trying to wriggle simply leads Swiss to lay even more of his weight upon him until he's pressed so close Aeon is back to struggling to draw a full breath.

Swiss eases up only when Aeon's struggling gets weaker, and even then, it's only for a moment. As easy as moving a pillow on a bed, Swiss climbs off, throws him onto his stomach.

"Thought you'd try a little harder," Swiss scoffs, and Aeon flushes when Swiss settles behind him, grabs his hips, and forces his ass up, grabbing the elastic waistband and yanking them down, exposing him. His face is hot, thighs trembling while his cock bounces all on it's own in search of some friction. Swiss wolf-whistles when Aeon clenches, unable to stop himself, giving him a show. "Arch all pretty for me," he demands and Aeon does. When Swiss spreads him, leans down and spits onto his hole-

Well. Winning is fun, of course, but the fingertip prodding at him, petting a very private, sensitive spot while he leaks precum onto the ground...

Losing isn't half bad, either.

#st-speaks #the band ghost #ghost #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #aeon ghoul #phantom ghoul #swiss/aeon #swiss x aeon #swiss/phantom #swiss x phantom

[dameronology]

can we get the star wars boys (or just poe or din) with moments of angsty slow burn attraction??? pls and thank you

i am a slut for angsty slow burn attraction so i did all the boys lol

din djarin

tbh any attraction with din is gonna be slow burn because he's gonna need a LOT of ✨context✨ before he ever even THINKS that you might like him romantically. angsty, though? that won't be hard to achieve, because he's gonna spend a long time trying to push you away and convince himself that he doesn't feel anything for you. he's also used to most people in his life being semi-permanent at best so in some sense, he's trying to protect himself from the hurt of losing you. but, once you prove that you're not going anywhere and that your love for him - at whatever stage it's in - is truly and wholly unconditional, he'll open up. it's sort of like a dam that breaks; he gives you absolutely nothing but once he realises he loves you, you have everything. his word, his love, his support, his protection. the angst-iness might still linger a little bit because he's super protective of you - now he's convinced you're here to stay, he's determined to make sure no-one else will take you away - but you know it all comes from a place of love.

poe dameron

any angsty slow burn with poe would stem from him catching feelings for you as his rival (did you mean: enemies to lovers?). like, this man is going to try and swallow those feelings and act like he doesn't care for you and that he isn't falling in love with you, but cracks will start to appear eventually. maybe you get injured one day in battle or come home late from a mission, and he is far more concerned that a competitive colleague should be. he'll hide behind a facade of sarcasm and flirting but you can see in his eyes that he was worried. that's the first hint for you, and it's both a blessing and a curse because it confirms what you're feeling to. once one crack has appeared in the foundations, it's only a matter of time before they collapse completely and it's obvious to everyone and their mothers and their mother's mothers that you two love each other. maybe it takes a few soft moments - a late night conversation when you catch each other getting caff at midnight, or when you're on a stakeout together that leia definitely didn't strategically plan - for you to both realise that you connect on an emotional, human level too. that probably makes you fight more - with each other, and the realisation that you love one another - but eventually, one of you will come clean and i have no doubt that poe cracks first, because when he loves he loves fucking hard and trying to keep it a secret will eat him up inside.

finn

slow burn with finn will mostly stem from the fact that he doesn't really know how to pursue you. unsurprisingly, it's not something he learnt during his time at the first order and now that he's out, it's even more confusing. he doesn't mean for it to be angsty either, but he's so bad at this whole thing that he ends up coming across as rude and because he's normally sweet and caring to everyone else, it's easy for you to assume that his coldness is because he hates you. and because that makes you act cold towards him, he then assumes that you hate him too. really, it's all a miscommunication. it would probably take you confronting him and asking why he hates you for finn to have an oh! moment and declare his love for you - or at least his developing love - and then things start to make sense again. it's definitely a quicker slow burn than the rest of the guys, simply because he's so enthusiastic and has this massive love for life that makes him want to spend it with you, so he's not gonna beat around the bush.

han solo

han is the chief executive officer of slow-burn angst. because a) it takes him about ten thousand working days to admit to himself that he has feelings for you and b) he will become immediately defensive about it. he's just not good at letting other people in and sharing his feelings so a relationship is terrifying to him but the only thing scarier than that is the idea of losing you. even though that looks like it's about to happen because he's suddenly pushing you away and acting distant, and it's not until you call him out on his bullshit that he realises. he won't tell you the truth (c'mon, it's han we're talking about) but he'll force himself to go back to normal. there will be something that makes him cave though - probably you starting to date another guy, or the realisation that such a scenario is even a possibility - and han realises he has to do something. cue a very awkward conversation that takes him at least half an hour to get to the point, but once he does, everything sort of makes sense: the sudden distance, the grouchiness, the holding you at arms length. and even though you want to hate him for being so confusing and causing you grief, it's all outweighed by the fact you obviously love him too. there's definitely a learning curve for han, especially as he adjusts to being in a relationship and being vulnerable with you, but it's one he's happy to do with you.

luke skywalker

in my mind, slow burn angst with luke would happen in a situation where you'd been in a previously established relationship before he becomes a jedi. maybe you break up because you're young and don't know what you want, or maybe it's because you want to take a step back and let him explore his newfound career options (?? weird way to describe being a jedi jazz) but either way, he promises to come back to you. and you know that luke skywalker is never one to break a promise, but waiting round is fucking tiring, man. it's probably a scenario where he's back and forth over a long period of time and every time you think you finally have him, he goes away again. then the war ends and you're at your wits end, and luke realises that this time, you're the one who's about to slip away from him and he has no choice but to re-assess his priorities. when he does, he comes back to you immediately. actually, no, he chases you across the fucking galaxy to declare his love for you, and let you know that this is it now.

obi-wan kenobi

obi-wan has no qualms in admitting his feelings for you to himself; it's just admitting them to you that takes fucking forever because of the complications with the jedi code. he tried to do it before with satine and he's quite honestly still recovering, so the idea that he's in the same scenario again is scary but even more so because his feelings this time are so much stronger. and this is no slate to satine, but the situation with satine is like a drop in the ocean compared to where he's at with you. it feels like it could drown him because he wants to be with you to the point where it physically aches but how can he be? and obviously, you've got feelings for him to but waiting around for months whilst he sorts out his own emotions is tiring. tiring to the point where you question how worth it is is, because even if he does decide to give it a shot - and the chances feel slim - it'll mean that you have to sneak around constantly and risk being stripped of your titles completely. obviously, this is something that obi-wan has thought about over and over but one day, he just sort of cracks and realises that he has no choice but to be with you. like, it literally isn't a choice. he can't know you exist and not give it a shot.

#asks #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron imagine #finn x reader #finn imagine #finn imagines #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian imagines #han solo x reader #han solo imagine #han solo imagines #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker imagine #luke skywalker imagines #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan kenobi imagines #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan imagines #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars angst #star wars headcanons #star wars characters

[giac222]

I’m an Ashley Graves lover and defender till the end 🤞🏻🩷.

This is going to be a deep dive and a pretty long post, just a heads up! There’s a point in the beginning where I briefly discuss something else regarding TCOAAL because I felt that it ties in, but this post will mostly be focusing on Ashley + her experiences, and a little about how Andrew isn’t actually a doormat, not even close. 😶

Let’s get into it:

I adore her and I have the biggest soft spot for her, my empathy for her is through the damn roof. She’s a product of her environment, she wasn’t born the way she is (Andrew wasn’t either). It’s frustrating to see people claim she was born evil. I’d go as far to argue that she isn’t completely evil either. Her soul is the color of pitch black according to the demon in the game. But why is that? What caused it? The reason for this is because of how she’s been treated by everyone else around her throughout her whole life. It’s not like she asked or wanted to become a “tar soul”. Her environment made her sour, it made her hate people.. including herself.

After Ashley sacrifices the warden to the demon, when she’s thinking to herself, a text box comes up that says “You decide not to linger on the fact that your soul is apparently a vicious, pitch-black mess.” and after that we see another one that says “Guess you already knew that”.

I was thinking to myself, why the hell am I so attached to this character? Lmao. Why do I have such a huge soft spot for her? Then when I was thinking about it I realized it’s because I relate to some of what she’s been through. Especially her terribly low self-esteem that causes her to feel unlovable, ooo that hit home for me. For quite some time I dealt with that, and let me tell you, it truly is an awful feeling. It can make you very mean and bitter. It quite literally eats away at you. I’m 22 now and I’m able to reflect on those past experiences, that’s when I realized how bad it really was. When it comes to someone having poor self-esteem and not much self worth, it stems from somewhere. People don’t just randomly start hating themselves, there’s something that causes it to happen. It could be from a variety of things such as trauma, childhood experiences, comparison to others, and discrimination.

It truly sucks to see how many people online that seem to hate her (not on Tumblr, but almost everywhere else). Her backstory breaks my heart, it’s tragic, and it seems that people completely ignore what she’s gone through and what she STILL goes through.

I also hate that the game has kind of, in a way, become a meme due to the controversy. This game delves into very serious and depressing topics, so for losers online with 0 media literacy to water it down to “the incest game” is sooo agitating. This is just a personal opinion of mine, but I also feel as though the controversy made people play the game for the wrong reasons. Including a lot of “edgy” teenagers 😬. I don’t think I need to elaborate on that, I’ve touched on it before in a different post. I mean the amount of loud and wrong takes I’ve seen about the game… All I can do is shake my head 💀.

So, I’ll share my (maybe?) controversial opinion that some of the “fanbase” is part of the problem too, not just the people who hate the game that don’t even know what’s going on. I’ve talked about this before so I’ll keep it brief, but I feel it fits in the post so I’m including it. But on the game’s subreddit there are people who will reduce the game itself to fap material, and it doesn’t make sense to me because there’s quite literally nothing overly sexual or explicit in the game?? Even in the questionable route vision we don’t see anything explicit, we just know what happens. I’m like have y’all forgotten that this is a PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR game?? How some of these people managed to reduce Nemlei’s work that she clearly put a lot of thought and effort into that covers dark topics and serious issues to fap material is beyond me…. What a way… just what a way. Let’s hope they get weeded out of the fandom before ch. 3 drops 🙏🏻.

Just to clarify so no one gets confused, I’m NOT referring to people who create NSFW art/posts of the game, like duh you guys know I love Ashley and Andrew 🤭🤭. I know what I’m about! 😂. Seriously though, I’m referring to people in the Reddit community who will quite literally just take people’s NSFW art (any fan art in general really) and upload it there without the artist’s consent (edit: I think if they give credit it’s not a big deal, and some artists may not care regardless. Some probably care, some don’t). It just seems like the NSFW stuff is the only thing a lot of them care about, and the shit they say is so unhinged at times I’m like???? Seek help. (Obviously it isn’t all of the members, but it’s definitely a lot speaking from my personal experience there before I left). In a way, I can’t blame outsiders for side eyeing the fanbase if that’s their first impression.

Between the amount of haters TCOAAL has and some of the questionable “fans”…. Yeah, we’re in the trenches 😂. That’s part of the reason why I left the server and now only participate in the Tumblr community. Not even trying to gate-keep or sound like an asshole, but a lot of the Reddit community doesn’t fit the game. I said what I said! As I’ve said before in a previous post, most of the trash takes I’ve seen on the game stem from there, and YouTube too. 😬

TCOAAL is a game that requires you to think and dig deeper, that’s why I love it. It touches on very heavy topics. Tbh it’s not something you can simply take at face value, that just defeats the purpose.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about Ashley! 🩷✨

When you pay attention to all the details and look deeper into Ashley’s character, you see that Ashley has quite literally been treated like shit her entire life by EVERYONE around her except for Andrew. That’s why it’s so easy for her to treat people as disposable, because that’s how SHE was treated her entire life 💔.

This scene specifically proves that:

Andrew really is everything to her. That boy is her sun, her moon, and all of her stars. 🥲💚. We see that he’s her main, and basically only source of happiness. He’s the only thing/person she cares about. I find it genuinely heartbreaking that he has been the only person Ashley could depend on throughout her life. Due to this, it makes sense as to why Ashley goes to such extreme measures to keep him around. if she lost him, she’d have no one else. So of course she’s scared that he’ll leave her. Even though we know he’ll stick by her side no matter what, Ashley does not. She’s quite literally the love of his life but she doesn’t know that. 😩

Then again, Andrew doesn’t show it, so of course she doesn’t get it. He’s never said I love you back to her, the closest we get to that is when he says “I like you… but you’re so exhausting” after their huge fight. If you look closely at his face in that scene, you’ll see gray blush lines on his cheek. Ashley has been abandoned by everyone except for Andrew, she needs validation and reassurance from him to know that he’s there to stay. He doesn’t really give that to her though, but he needs to STAT! As I said, we know he’s in it for the long haul, but Ashley does not.

You see, Ashley operates under the idea that Andrew doesn’t actually care about her. She believes that he couldn’t love her of his own will and that she has to manipulate in order for him to stay. I hold the opinion that she doesn’t do those things because she necessarily wants to, she does it because she feels like she has to in order to keep him around. She manipulates, but she isn’t very good at it 🫣.

Thinking about their huge fight in apartment 302 after Andrew killed that lady (she definitely did not attack him first, but we’ll get into that in a minute). When Andrew’s choking Ashley she brings up the fact that she’s the only one who can make his nightmares go away, but guess what we see in ch. 2? Before going to snoop on the cultist, if you go back to their motel room and you interact with the bed. A text box pops up that says “oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.”.. So, we now know that Andrew doesn’t actually have that many nightmares, he uses it as an excuse because he wants to sleep next to Ashley and be close to her.

Back to the apartment 302 incident, when Ashley goes back to that apartment after completing the ritual, she sees that Andrew killed the lady that lived there, he claims she attempted to attack him with the nail gun, but the nail gun was in the same damn spot! People should’ve started side eyeing him at that point in the game. I know I did LOL, “doormat extraordinaire” my ass 😂. Btw, there are people who genuinely believe he tried to sleep with the lady in 302, but she wouldn’t do it so he killed her….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. I wish I was joking.

Anyway, in Andrew’s dream when we go over the justified deaths, with the lady in 302, the first reason he mentions is “Ashley would have wanted to kill this one anyway” then he brings up no witnesses. To me, the fact that the first reason he mentions is Ashley wanting to kill her anyway showed that he killed her for Ashley more than anything. I mean, It did make Ashley happy that she died. He didn’t say anything about getting attacked, although it was obvious that was a lie already lmao. I believe that’s why he got so frustrated, which led to him getting pissed off after Ashley started accusing him of trying to sleep with that woman. Especially because once she started, it escalated quickly and she just kept going.. He was like “girl??? I literally killed this woman for YOU.” I could be wrong, but that was my interpretation on the situation.

Another interesting thing I thought about was how during their argument, Andrew tells Ashley to butt out of his love life, and that she always makes up some bullshit crisis for him to leave/stay when he’s out or about to leave to go meet up with someone. But in the flashback with Julia during his dream, while she’s raising genuine concern and mentions that it could be good for Ashley to learn some independence for her own sake. Also for Andrew to stop cutting things short on her, for the sake of their relationship, and so they can spend more time together. Andrew responds to that with “If your sister needed something, wouldn’t you go?” 👀. Andrew likes Ashley being dependent on him, he doesn’t want her to become independent. During their heated argument he admits to knowing her so called crisis she has before he leaves is “bullshit”. Yet he still chooses to leave to be with her anyway. Because again, Ashley’s the love of his life, people can deny it all they want but the proof is right there lmao. Not to mention he looked so sad hugging Julia until he asked her to tie her hair up… I see right through you Andrew 😂.

Also, him bringing up Nina’s death (Julia’s best friend) and lying to Julia’s face about it like he had no part in it, that was actually scary not going to lie 🫢. Plus him lying about Nina’s death affecting Ashley…like you know damn well. After their huge fight, Ashley said she was glad that Nina choked, which Andrew responded with “I know you are”.

That’s the thing about Andrew, he’s very good at lying and we see multiple examples of this in the game. When they were at their parents house Ashley decided to stay quiet because she couldn’t keep up with Andrew’s lies. In a different post of mine I talked about how “Andy” was a facade, but Ashley doesn’t understand that yet. She thinks he’s changing for the worst, but in reality he’s always been that way. His true colors are just now finally coming out.

Andrew and Ashley both had a shitty upbringing. I mean Mrs.Graves made Andrew take care of Ashley when he was a child, and I remember in a flashback he asked Ashley if she wanted to go with him because their mom gave him money for groceries, like ma’am why are you making your child go out to buy groceries??? Also, at the end of the day, she sold them both to organ harvesters. However, Andrew was treated somewhat better than Ashley during their childhood. We see this through the plushies in the puzzle before the questionable route vision, if you set Ashley’s plushie down at the table she immediately falls off. At their parents new home during dinner, Ashley sat on a mini ladder while everyone else had a chair, and simply the fact that Mrs.Graves gave Andrew their new house address, but didn’t give it to Ashley. They always shut Ashley out, they never cared about her nor did they try.

Now, let’s talk about one of, in my opinion, the saddest parts of the game. The flashback of Leyley’s birthday 🥲.

We see that neither her parents nor her friends cared about her birthday, they didn’t even try. She looked so sad talking about her friends here 😭. The fact that she brought up how her friends are always busy when she asks them for something shows that this is a recurring thing, her friends suck. I am in tearsss. I’m sick rn, she deserves everything and more. Andrew attempted to make her birthday special for her at least 🥺.

Also, I know Julia seems sweet from what we’ve seen, but I’m suspicious of her tbh 👀. We know Ashley hung out around her and Nina. I remember seeing one of the screenshots from a progress report where Andrew asks them if they could invite Ashley to sit with them sometime at lunch, so I’m assuming that’s how their “friendship” started.

Nina had a crush on Andrew, and Julia ended up dating him later on. I think it’s possible they only hung out with her just to get closer to Andrew. Julia wasn’t a very good friend to Ashley it seems, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be thrilled about them dating. Especially because Andrew is the most important, well, really the only important person to her.

Something else to think about when it comes to people in Ashley’s life outside of Andrew: After Andrew killed the warden to protect Ashley and before they left their neighbors apartment, Ashley tells Andrew “I don’t give a rat’s ass about mom or dad. Or any of my so-called friends anymore.” and “Not one of them felt it necessary to answer my calls…”. When she says this she looks very upset. So, even in present time, Ashley still gets treated like shit by everyone around her except for Andrew, this has been an ongoing thing since her childhood.

Next up is this scene with Mrs.Graves while setting up the ritual:

This was after Ashley says “Lookie ma! I drew a circle!”. Mrs.Graves immediately starts putting her down. Ashley’s response to what her mom said shows me that this is something that commonly happened. I’m sure there were many times in Ashley’s life where she’d attempt to impress her mom and receive praise, but would immediately get shut down by her instead. The more I think about how terribly Ashley was really treated, the more sad I get about it, what the fuck 😭.

Ok, last thing to dissect. I wanted to talk about this comment from a YouTube video that came up under the “all” section on there. Beware, it might make you lose braincells. 💀

“Ashley is heavily sexualized” let me stop you right there ✋🏻 lmao. No she is not. At least to me she isn’t, I never got the impression that the game sexualized her. A lot of male players sexualize her (because of course they do 🙄), but the game? I disagree. You could say Ashley views herself as a sex object, but that doesn’t mean she’s sexualized by the game. She views herself that way because of her low self-esteem and the fact that she doesn’t believe someone could genuinely love her. Not to mention her internalized misogyny. Source? I’m speaking from experience. Having terribly low self-esteem really does drive you to dark places. It can lead to you basing your self-worth on people finding you sexually attractive or just attractive in general, like your self worth is based on your looks alone. That’s how you get validation even if it’s from a not so good place. It wears off pretty fast though, and it leaves a poor after taste. It’s only a temporary “good” feeling. If you don’t like yourself, no amount of attention will be ever good enough for you or truly make you feel better.

“Goth-esque fetish ware”, first of all it’s “wear”, and the “fetish wear” in question is just shorts, a black shirt, and a choker 💀. I cannot lmfao. Does that mean Andrew has “goth-esque fetish wear” too? Bc him and Ashley literally dress the same 😂. Not that this matters, but Ashley and Andrew are more emo to me lmao.

“She’s definitely a manipulative psychopath”… opinion immediately discarded because of this part of the comment alone.

“Her heavily sexualized existence”…. Don’t piss me off 🙄 like??? I can’t believe they said that. People with a brain larger than the size of an atom know that Ashley’s entire existence isn’t sexualized, I’d argue that it’s quite literally the opposite. It’s almost like they want Ashley to be this seductive sex kitten, but she just isn’t that. They project that onto her. I feel like some people think that Ashley simply existing with a bigger bust means she’s automatically sexualized, some men feel this way about women with bigger busts in real life too, so them doing it to a fictional character doesn’t shock me. Worms for brains I swear.

The comment Ashley makes about her “big fat tits” in the motel room during her mini argument with Andrew was literally so unserious. There’s the scene where Andrew was lying on the couch in their parents house when Ashley wakes him up out of his dream, and we see him looking at her boobs from his POV. However, that was literally so mild, you hardly even saw anything lmfao. I feel like Nemlei added that in to show that Andrew’s sexually attracted to her, plus it was a little before the scene where Ashley playfully bites him, and (in my opinion) where they almost fully crossed the line (because of Andrew mind you) before their mom came in. We all saw that pillow placement 😂. There are other signs of him being attracted to her before that as well, like when we see him push the thought of hugging her to the back of his mind “where it may fester with all the thoughts he wish he never had” + that scene in the kitchen where he was sort of touching her butt and had his fingers through her belt loop, but when their mom came in he jerked away and looked as if he got caught.

People will claim that Ashley is the only one that’s incestuous and that she “forced” it onto Andrew, but in ch. 2, we see that Andrew is arguably more incestuous than she is. Ashley loves Andrew to death, but she isn’t exactly horny for him the same way he’s horny for her. Think about their reactions to the questionable route vision. Ashley was pretty chill about it, while Andrew was beat red and embarrassed because his repressed inner thoughts just got exposed. The demon clocked his tea 😂.

I’ve spoken about this before so I’ll keep it brief, when it comes to sex Ashley doesn’t care much about it and views it as transactional, as something she can use for personal gain. As I kind of said already, to me, her viewing herself as a sex object and having that view on sex in general ties into the fact that she has internalized misogyny and her personal belief that she’s unlovable. So, not only does she view herself as a sex object, but you could say that she also views other women as sex objects too.

This is my personal opinion which I’ve shared before, but when her and Andrew fully cross the line (because they’re definitely going to) and he finally shows her that he loves her as well, I think her views on sex may change a bit. That she’ll start seeing it as something out of love that they can both enjoy. As something they can experience together, instead of her ignoring her own desires and being his personal sex object to use to attempt to keep him around.

Do I think that Ashley isn’t horny for him at all? Tbh no. I mean she literally says she assumed it would happen between them eventually anyway, so she’s definitely thought about it before. However, it’s nowhere near Andrew’s level lmao. We know Ashley is a virgin and honestly, I think Andrew is the only one she’d happily lose it to. If she were to sleep with anyone else, I doubt she’d enjoy it and would only use it as personal gain for something. As of right now, she views sex as a way of keeping Andrew around, however, I feel this is because of the fact that she doesn’t actually think he loves her and will stay with her on his own. She loves Andrew and wants to be with him, she wants him to reciprocate her love. As I like to say, Andrew’s her boo 😂, that girl doesn’t want anyone else.

Alright, let’s finish dissecting that goofy YouTube comment.

“practically puts the usually male players protective instincts into overdrive.” I don’t know wtf this means lmao, but it made me cringe. Some men need to be banned from speaking on Ashley until we figure out what’s going on 😂. Bc every time they speak on her I lose braincells. “Protective instincts” yet they quite literally don’t understand anything about her character or her struggles 💀. Maybe sit this one out lmao.

Not to sound like a broken record, but a big part of Ashley’s character is that she has very low self-worth and that she doesn’t believe people, more specifically Andrew, could actually love her (💔). I mean think about how she’s been treated for her whole life, it makes sense as to why she developed those feelings about herself and others. Her mindset is “well people never cared about me, so why would I care about them?”. Having people regularly treat you like shit takes a toll on your self-esteem and impacts your world view. Especially if it happens in your childhood.

Ashley quite literally loves Andrew more than she loves herself. I want better for her :’( and she deserves better too. I don’t care about the Ashley haters opinions. There are people who believe that she’s faking her low self-esteem in order to manipulate Andrew….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. Have you even paid attention to anything in the game?? That’s one of the biggest things about her character like hello?

I should have added this in earlier oops, but I’m adding it in now. After her and Andrew first talk to the lady in 302 and they leave her apartment, Ashley asks why the lady got special treatment but they didn’t, and why she didn’t get any food. Andrew responds with “maybe you just aren’t pretty enough”, he wasn’t being serious, but she took it that way. It didn’t help that he said “I mean… wasn’t she?” After Ashley asked if he thought she was pretty. That’s why Ashley wanted to shoot her after the ritual. You can see Ashley looks upset when she asks “do you really think I’m not pretty enough?”. Then gets angry and says “So ugly am I, that I shouldn’t even be fed?”. This is her insecurity and low self-esteem kicking in on full display.

This is a similar situation to what happened when her and Andrew were looking for something to lock Nina in the crate with at the warehouse. She asked him what he thought about Nina and if he found her pretty. He said “she’s fine… I guess”, which made Ashley unhappy. Even though Andrew wasn’t into her, like at all. Ashley has been dealing with insecurity and low self-esteem ever since she was a little girl 😭. I’m so upset for her like you guys have no idea.

After Ashley traps Nina in the crate, there’s a point where she’s crying and says “It’s not fair!! Why does everyone like her better??” “I’m loud and weird and annoying and no one likes me at all!!!”. 😭. My heart is breaking as we speak. It’s hard for me to believe she said all of that just to manipulate Andrew in that scene. I know in ch. 3 we will be delving more into their childhood, and I have a theory that Ashley was also bullied in school. I mean to refer to herself as loud, weird, annoying, and to say that no one likes her at all. That absolutely came from somewhere, and I don’t think it was just from Mrs.Graves.

So, to see people with the emotional depth of a raindrop get online and say that she’s solely the problem, that Andrew needs to get rid of her, and that she’s simply just evil… is, to put it lightly, very annoying. I’m gonna say something, you know I love both Ashley and Andrew, but we need to be honest! People give Andrew too much of a pass. I mean they literally excuse all of the terrible things he’s done and blame Ashley for “making” him do it. They give him a pass for everything, but have 0 empathy for Ashley despite everything going wrong in her life since she was born. They completely ignore that she’s a product of her environment. When it comes down to it, what good experiences in life has she really had?

Also, Andrew is more violent than Ashley is. I think that’s self explanatory. People seem to forget that she quite literally just wants to live a peaceful life with Andrew. During the “quarantine” while they were still in their old apartment, she says “Aside from the starving, it’s not so bad here.” and “Aside from starving, I like it here”. Ashley doesn’t want to live a life of violence and chaos, and we see this in the room before unlocking the door that leads us to the two burial route choices. If you place the knife down (violence) nothing happens, but when you place the flower down (love) - (my bad guys originally I put heart instead of flower, I changed it!) - the door becomes unlocked. She also gets upset when Andrew tells her that they can’t live at their parents new house, she literally doesn’t want to be on the run and just wants stability.

On Pinterest, I see girls talk about how much they hate Ashley in the comment sections. They literally just do this because they think Andrew’s hot 😂. Especially when they call her a bitch, like grow up 🙄. I’ve also seen people refer to her as a “pick me”?? Literally how? Immature teens need to be banned from playing this game LOL. It’s giving those male celebrity fandoms that dig to find anything “problematic” on a girl said male celebrity is dating just because they’re pissed it isn’t them, they don’t actually care if she’s problematic or not.

It’s literally just misogyny, they do this a lot to women in media. Breaking Bad is the biggest example of this, the people that act like Skyler White is worse than Walter are delusional as hell. Sorry, but If you’re misogynistic, lack empathy and/or emotional depth, TCOAAL isn’t for you 🤷🏻‍♀️. Period. That’s why the game deserves a better fanbase than the one it has outside of Tumblr. It deserves better in general.

They don’t care to look into why Ashley is the way she is. If it wasn’t obvious already, Andrew brings out Ashley’s worst behavior and blames her for making him do bad things. In his mind he can’t be guilty, so he needs something on the outside to blame (Ashley). Mrs.Graves contributes to this btw, during the setup of the ritual before they sacrificed her and Mr.Graves she was pretty much saying “I know you don’t want to do this, I know she’s making you do it!” 🤦🏻‍♀️. She sounds like one of those boy moms that go “my son didn’t do shit!” 😂.

The worst are the people who reduce Ashley to fap material and a “hot crazy girl they can fix or make worse” 🤪, and basically fetishize her (unchecked) mental health issues that contribute to how she acts. Again, she’s had crippling insecurities and low self-esteem since she was a kid, Ashley has had just about 0 good life experiences outside of the ones with Andrew. So it is incredibly frustrating to see. I’m like I hate y’all I really do, read the damn room 🙄. They need to stop projecting their weirdo shit onto her.

People who fetishize mental illness and talk about how they want to “date a crazy bitch” are so gross. If/when they actually date someone with said mental health issues, when things get bad and they don’t fit the fantasy anymore, they’ll get disgusted and drop the person struggling with mental issues like trash. Anytime I see a guy say “crazy girls with mental issues are better in bed!”…. I’m like I know what type of man you are 🫥…. Perish 🗣️.

Ashley and Andrew both have unchecked mental illness, we know this. It’s quite literally not their fault. However, I personally don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them. Every time I see someone online say they were a born a psychopath, sociopath, etc. I lose brain cells. Mind you, I’m literally majoring in psychology and I still don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them.

To wrap things up because I know this post is LONG! I empathize with both Andrew and Ashley because they’ve both been dealt a bad hand in life. Their parents failed them in every way, and the society they live in is totally dystopian. However, when it comes to Ashley specifically? I have all the empathy for her in the world, especially because I understand some of the things she’s dealt with and how painful it really is. Digging deeper into her character shows you that she has quite literally been through hell and back. You can say she’s a victim turned villain, but honestly? I don’t really even consider her a villain, maybe that’s controversial to say but 🤷🏻‍♀️, I don’t think she’s irredeemable either. She’s someone who was hurt very badly, her wounds run deep, and she never really got to heal from any of it.

I just want her and Andrew to have a happy ending, it would be nice for them to experience genuine happiness for once. I would also like to see Ashley gain some self love in ch. 3, maybe Andrew will be able to help her with that in a way as their relationship improves.

Honestly, people who act like the questionable burial route is the “bad” ending are in denial so bad. Nemlei has said that “Burial” and “Decay” aren’t an indicator of a “good” or “bad” ending though. There will also be multiple outcomes to discover. I’m both excited, and scared lol.

I love Ashley Graves so much as a character, she’s so interesting and complex. I don’t play about her 😂. When it comes to defending her I’m on the frontlines lmao. The misogyny/hate when it comes to her is crazyyy. I’ll be the odd one out I don’t care, she’s my girlie 💕. It’s always refreshing to see other people who adore her and actually understand her as a character.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading ❤️. I think this is my longest post yet 😳.

Also, a big thank you to everyone for all of the notes on my TCOAAL posts! I truly appreciate it. I’m so glad other people adore this game just as much as I do. :)

Unfortunately I’m not able to follow people back since this is a side blog. :/, but I do really appreciate everyone that follows me, I hope you like what I post. 💜

I’m currently working on creating an ooak doll of Ashley! 🤭💕. I’m SO excited to finish it and post her!

I plan on making a post about the Decay route at some point, because I realized I haven’t discussed it much. Probably because that route makes me sad 😓. However, it’s still incredibly interesting and I’m both excited and nervous to see where it goes.

#that one girl who don’t play about ashley graves #ashley graves’s defense attorney #tcoaal spoilers #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #nemlei #ashley graves #andrew graves #coffincest #gravecest #leyley graves #andy graves #kit9 #i hate reddit #i hate stupid people #this is a pretty long post oops #long post #longer post #just my thoughts

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter seven pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER SEVEN: PERILLA LEAF DEBATE

previous masterlist next

word count: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol (underaged gasp), innuendos, suggestive language, cursing, yunjin says sexism as a joke, jake smacks ni-ki upside the head but that’s basically it lol

a/n: just a cutesy little chapter full of some crumbs of fluff. i don’t really know how long im gonna make this series 😭 also finally some content of all of them together we love!!!! (channeling jungkook for heeseung and sunghoons stance here)

"I NEVER AGREED to this," Yunjin gapes, staring at the large rapids that the lake held, Heeseung attempting to convince her to go tubing. "You said it was like the lazy river things at those water parks, not a whole waterfall!"

"It's fun," He laughs, a hand lightly tugging at her arm while she shakes her head. "C'mon, you said you would. You gonna leave me alone now?" Heeseung pouts, the puppy eyes he gave Yunjin more than enough to be convincing no matter how hard she tried.

You watched from afar, a small snort erupting as you see her nod along without much hesitation. A week in the making, Heeseung and Jay had put together a three-day vacation for the group. Headed out three hours north from campus, they reserved a lot on a camping reservation. Having left so early, much to everyone's dismay, Jay had successfully leaded the two cars to arrive in the morning and find a spot to call home right beside the river which was the main attraction of said grounds.

In a fairly shady spot due to the large trees, it provided enough room away from any other campers that would arrive, a sort of privacy at the end. Truthfully, you weren't the biggest fan of sleeping on rocky ground and having no access to an actual hot shower for the next few days but you agreed with much reluctance. Jay had went as far as talking to Cho herself to ensure you and Ni-ki would have the adequate days off and buying a blow up mattress for your sake.

"10 bucks says they'll hook up by the end of the trip," Sunghoon snickers, his voice breaking your thoughts as you jump slightly out of surprise.

"Maybe not hook up," You shiver at the thought. "We're sleeping in tents, I'd hope they wouldn't especially since I'm supposed to share with her," Grimacing at the thought, you shake your head. "But definitely make out a couple times, Heeseung's obvious as hell,"

"Pretty sure Jake didn't get that memo," Sunghoon nods toward said boy, watching as he was in the midst of setting up a tent with Ni-ki's help. Glancing over, you see how he grouped yours and his things together, presumably setting up for you to share for the next few days. "I'm not worried about them. Jake has no shame though so I'll be sleeping as far away as I can from you two,"

"We're not fucking next to the kids," You defend, gesturing toward the larger tent that would house Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki while Sunghoon laughs at your dumbfounded expression. Shoving his shoulder, you shake your head at the amused look he sent your way. Sticking your tongue out at Sunghoon childishly, he returns the gesture while you make your way toward the two crouched attempting to get the tent secured in place.

"Just nail it into the dirt—"

"This is like concrete it doesn't want to go in!" Ni-ki huffs, the consistent banging of the hammer to the metal pick heard though you couldn't due to the material blocking your view. Jake notices your presence, a small smile thrown your way but you took note of his obvious annoyance. Just as he was about to move to help Ni-ki, the younger boy lets out a loud laugh. "Ah! Ha! I did it! Fucking thing took forever but it worked,"

"Ni-ki," You tsk, the boy standing up and sheepishly peering around the now perched tent with an innocent smile.

"Sorry," He mumbles out. Rolling your eyes, you wave him off while Jake stands up, dusting his hands off on his pants and rolling his neck with a wince. "Is it done?"

"That took so much longer than it should've," He says under his breath, looking around and ensuring it would stay up. "Yeah all good, thank you," Jake calls out while Ni-ki gives him a thumbs up before walking away to where Jungwon and Jay seemed to be messing with the grill.

You pursed your lips seeing how tense Jake seemed to be. He wasn't a morning person, something you've come to realize, thus spending 3 hours cramped in a car full of people so early certainly did a number on him. His patience was thin, Ni-ki not moving fast enough for him seemed to worsen it and although he wasn't outwardly going to say anything, Jake seemed rather spent.

Stepping behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, your head leaned against his back while he seemed to melt to your touch.

"What're you doing?" Jake lets out a small laugh, one of his hands falling over your own that was along his midsection. He turns his head slightly, attempting to get a glance at you but the height difference only allowed him to see the top of your head.

“Take a break," You mumble into his back.

Jake felt his stomach flip involuntarily, the warmth of your body pushed against his did more in seconds than he liked to admit in helping him relax. Pulling away so he had room to turn, he flipped around to allow you both to face one another. His arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders after yours stayed put at his waist.

"I think this is the first time you initiated us touching," He hums, the giddy smile that made its way into his lips more than obvious. "You love me now or what?"

You roll your eyes. “I barely tolerate you, don’t get ahead of yourself Sim,” You tut, pinching at his side causing him to laugh. “I just figured to distract you before you blew up on one of the kids for being annoying. Is it working?”

Jake hums, nodding along to your words. One of his hands pushed away the hair that blew in your face, tucking it behind your ear but not moving as he gentle cupped your cheek. “Good distraction,” He mumbles, leaning closer to put a chaste peck to the tip of your nose.

Your face scrunches up, the minimal amount of blush making its way to the apples of your cheeks. You quickly turn away to ensure he wouldn’t see, unraveling yourself from his grasp and pausing short seeing how utterly disgusted Jay looked from the opposite side of the area.

“Do you really have to do that here?!”

“OKAY OKAY, I got one,” Jungwon holds out his hands, gaining the attention of the group that sat around the campfire as the contents of his cup sloshed around as he did so. “Cheating or not cheating: the perilla leaf thing that’s been trending?”

Immediately riling up the group, Heeseung and Sunghoon were quick to shout of their ambient no’s while Ni-ki and Sunoo held no problem with it. Since the sun had set and the fire ignited, your group of nine had been gathered around talking about everything and anything. Having been filled up by Jay’s grilling earlier, the causal drinking had begun and thus the conversation topics slowly began to get more heated through debate.

“No, I’m not just gonna let one of you help feed my girlfriend. Basically touching chopsticks that’s weird,” Heeseung shakes his head while Sunghoon points in agreement.

“That’s because you’re overly possessive either way hyung,” Sunoo rolls his eyes, though a small laugh left his lips as the older boy clicks his tongue.

“First it’s the perilla leaf then it’s holding hands and making out behind my back,” Sunghoon dramatically huffs out, louder than usual due to the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream while Yunjin snorts from her seat beside him.

“That’s a crazy jump from a simple dinner encounter,” She snickers while he shakes his head.

“I don’t like it,” Sunghoon says entirely close minded before hitting Jay’s shoulder who sat to his left. “What do you think?”

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with it as long as it’s like a one time thing,” He shrugs, lifting the bottle to his lips to take a swig. “Once or twice okay, and as long as it’s not just specifically between them only. I think as the boyfriend it would be my job to feed her,”

Jungwon hums in agreement to Jay’s explanation. “Yeah me too, one or twice is fine but its technically something that I should do,”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Ni-ki pipes in, gesturing around the group. “Especially if it were one of you, we’re all friends. It wouldn’t be something weird or out of bad intention,”

“What if it were Yunjin or I?” You suddenly ask, sitting up from your slouched position in having your feet dangle off of Jake’s legs from your seat. “Is it different if it’s one of the boys compared to us?”

Sunghoon falters, a sheepish smile taking over his lips knowing it was a convicting question. “Well—”

“Sexism!” Yunjin yells out, an accusing finger pointed toward the boy who sputtered to respond.

“No, none of you can do it,” Heeseung shakes his head. “I’m a hater to all, I know you two are girl kissers too so no! I don’t need my only girl friends stealing my girl,” He tuts while you let out a small laugh at the thought, seeing his pouty lips at the complete imaginary scenario.

“Lets ask the actual couple in the group,” Jungwon clears the air, being the main instigator of the topic as he gestures toward you and Jake who had kept quiet, merely amused by the conversation his friends debated upon. “Hyung what do you think?”

You raise a brow as you turn to Jake who sat on your right. One of his hands was comfortably placed on your shins, tracing small circles along your skin as you continued to wear shorts due to the humid air. His other dangled his beer bottle in hand, seemingly comfortable with a slight buzz.

His eyes peer over to yours, amusement lingering through the look he sent you. “She wouldn’t have to have one of you help her if that were the case,” Jake shrugs, a smile quirking at his lips at his smug words. “It’s my job to take care of my girl,”

The boys as a collective being sent into a frenzy by his response. Sunoo and Jay rolling their eyes in disgust by his attempt to seem cool and collected knowing well enough how much of a sulk he tended to be majority of the time. You couldn’t help but laugh as he winked noting your look, Yunjin loudly gagging at the sight but bursting into a fit alongside you.

“___ be honest, does he treat you that well?” Heeseung interjects, looking for your voice in the matter after Jake seemed to drop such a well versed answer.

You hum, deciding whether or not to play along in Jake’s ploy. “So far,” You tease while he merely rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “I can’t say in this particular topic since it hasn’t happened but he does ensure I’m always first when it comes to small acts,” You add on truthfully, thinking back to the amount of times over the past weeks that Jake has seemed to go above and beyond in ensuring you were comfortable and always ate before him.

It was hard to get used to at first, independent thus far and having his help was completely different. But you grew accustomed to it, figuring it was just the way he was raised which earned more brownie points than you’d like to admit. The first time he tied your shoe in a parking lot, your foot perched on his brand new jeans without a care, in particular being the main gesture that caused your heart to flutter even for a split second.

“Ah what a good boyfriend~” Ni-ki cooed, patting Jake’s arm while Sunoo lets out a small snicker. Leaning over to catch your eyes, he added his next words on with a mischievous smirk. “Let me know if he slips up noona, I’ll help you with the perilla leaf instead,”

Your eyes widen at Ni-ki’s words, knowing fully well he was joking and only intended to get under Jake’s skin but it caught you by surprise. Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon burst into a fit of laughter at sight while Yunjin, Jungwon, and Sunoo seemed to mirror your expression.

“Yah!” Jake, in a momentary daze, snaps out of his dumbfounded expression and attempts to lean over to hit Ni-ki upside the head but the younger boy moves. “You’re such a brat, annoying me all day and now this?” Tapping your legs to get off of him, you oblige to the silent command as he stands. Ni-ki was quick to leap away, already running around the row of chairs as Jake followed after him. “Don’t run away now after talking all that shit!”

“Now now, play nice kids,” Yunjin calls out, her laughter mixing in with the rest. “Just don’t fall into the lake or trip over a rock, alright?”

“I was kidding!” Ni-ki yells, voice distant as Jake continued to chase him down the dirt road, the dim lighting from the fire being the only lighting around opposed to the few lights further down from another group. “N-no, no it was a joke! I’m sorry!”

There was a loud scream that came from Ni-ki, one that echoed through the air and mixed in with his laughter before their footsteps made their way back to the group. As the two came back into light, Jake moves his chair as close as possible to yours before plopping himself down while Ni-ki trails behind, rubbing his shoulder though his amused expression never faltered.

“Next question?” The youngest boy asks, breaking the air causing Jay to let out a small snort, the conversation topic now moving on with ease.

Silently, Jake pats his legs. Draping yours over his lap once more, you shift to get comfortable, his hands finding way to your shins once again and giving it a slight squeeze. A small smile plays at your lips, sending him an air kiss to rid of the small pout he wore, one that caused Jake’s expression to melt into a grin in an instant.

“Oh! I got one!” Sunghoon suddenly claps his hands, the loud snap gaining everyone’s attention at his bright eyed expression. Looking around, he pauses for dramatic effect only to get a series of heated exchanges upon his next few words.

“Thoughts on pineapple on pizza?”

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @missmischief1408 @enczen @vanvity @dreamiestay @caitysdelusions @ikkeumyluv @mysticalenchantresss @v3lv3tsin

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#enhypen #enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enha x reader #jaeyun smut #jake x reader #enha #enhypen jake smut #jake enhypen

[stellamancer]

cher(ease)  (satoru gojo x reader)

notes: i want to preface this by saying: yes, i know i posted a fic yesterday too. no, i am not actually that prolific. this was written for the willow house Meet Fruit collab. actually, i wrote it right after @willowser​ suggested it, but i waited to post it because I was actually a little unhappy with it when I was done writing it initially and i figured some time away from it might help. it did. a little. i think. now i’m not sure any more.. 

contains:  gender neutral reader, typical satoru gojo antics, some small manner of sexual tension

wc: 1.4k

You love cherries. 

They are, without a doubt, your favorite fruit; tart, sweet and easy to eat with their stems serving as a cute little handle. It does suck having to deal with eating around the pits, but your beloved cherries are worth the inconvenience. It’s truly, truly a shame that they’re only really available in the summer, but that just means you need to eat your fill when they’re in season.

Which is why, when you stumble across a display of them at the market, rows of cartons filled to the brim with bright, plump, juicy red cherries, you end up buying a carton or three without a second thought.

In retrospect, it might have been better to show some restraint. Maybe you had hungry eyes, or were just a touch too excited, or maybe it was even the fact that you’d spent an unspeakable amount of money on just cherries. Regardless, in order to attempt to absolve yourself of some of the buyer’s regret that’s clearly haunting you after splurging on fruit you benevolently decide to share them with the students and your fellow staff members at Jujutsu High. 

Or at least, that had been your intent. 

“Oh hey,” Satoru Gojo greets you casually as you walk into the staff room, his feet propped up on the table so he can lean his chair back as far as possible. In one of his hands is a cherry, one of your cherries, hanging delicately from its stem. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing?” you ask him reflexively, ignoring his question outright as a surge of annoyance courses through your veins. There’s a part of you that feels weird about suddenly feeling possessive over the cherries. You brought them to share with everyone and everyone includes Gojo. It shouldn’t be a big deal that he's gone ahead and helped himself to some without asking, and yet you still find yourself feeling agitated. 

"I was hungry," he replies nonchalantly, popping the cherry in his mouth. 

"And you thought it would be okay to snack on my cherries?" 

Gojo shifts forward in his chair and offers you an easy-going smile that only makes you scowl more. “There were so many in the fridge I’d thought you’d brought them to share.”

Your instinct is to argue, to be obtusely contrarian with him, but the fact of the matter is that he’s right, so you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you sit yourself down and stare at the half full carton of cherries on the table. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Gojo wiggling around, not-so-subtly vying for your attention like an overly excitable child. You ignore him and instead choose to think of the rising cost of produce. It was truly an ungodly amount you spent on those cherries and you know for sure that a year ago the same amount of them would have cost marginally less. When you thought about sharing them with the students, the blow to your wallet seemed bearable, their smiles worth the cost and more. But rather than your students' darling faces all you can see is the image of Gojo’s face, his cheeks stuffed with cherries like he’s a squirrel feasting on nuts. It’s annoying. Maybe you can get him to pony up and pay you back for a portion of what he’s eaten. Surely the heir to the Gojo clan can pay for some of the cherries he’s gobbled up. 

“Hey…” He’s whining loudly now, any attempts at being subtle abandoned. You consider ignoring him more, but think better of it and look in his direction. Unsurprisingly, he’s pouting, his perfectly moisturized lips puckering out, and you’re glad that his blindfold detracts from what is otherwise a disgustingly handsome face. “Why the long face?”

He’s mocking you. He’s totally mocking you. Not that you’d expect anything different from him. Rather than grace him with an actual answer, you shoot him a pointed look. There’s no goddamn way that he doesn’t know. But still, Gojo plays his favorite role and tilts his head innocently. When you don’t say anything more he exclaims, “Oh! I know! You must be hungry.”

Again, he’s not wrong, but this time he’s not exactly right either.

He grabs another cherry, this time holding it up in your direction. He grins as he propels it toward your mouth. “Here. Say ‘ah~’”

“Gojo, you are not feeding me.”

He ignores you, insistently pressing the cherry to your lips as he speaks, his voice an octave lower, "They taste really good, you know." 

The sexy drop of his voice is nothing short of deliberate— a tried and true tactic of his meant to get under your skin. You glare at him, your agitation clear as day. He is, as expected, completely unfettered, the cherry still flush against your lips. 

Your options at this point are to: wait until he gets bored and drops the cherry, possibly onto the floor— wasting it or shamefully accept it and endure him gloating about it for the rest of the day. As much as you’d love to waste Gojo’s time and sit at the table in a silent stalemate, you have other things to do. Important things.

So you open your mouth wide, wider than necessary, and use your teeth to rip the cherry from Gojo’s grasp in the most unattractive way possible. 

“Yay!” he cheers, choosing to focus on seeing just what he wants to see instead acknowledging that you obviously don’t want his offering. You consider, for one wild second, spitting it back in his face. However, you don’t and just drop the cherry into your open palm. Now what? Do you eat the cherry or just toss it? Frankly, it feels like a lose-lose situation either way, so you might as well go with the option that gives Gojo less satisfaction: you toss it into the trash can. 

“Aw…” His lips jut out to form an excessive pout.

“I already told you: you are not feeding me.”

“You’re no fun."

“I’m plenty of fun,” you dead pan at him, scowling. “I’m just not your plaything.”

“Meaning you won’t feed me either?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Not even if I say please?” 

“Nope.”

“Hmph.” He’s being overly dramatic and you both know it. “Guess I will enjoy the cherries all on my own, then.”

His voice drops again. The second time makes your body feel a little bit weird, but you remain largely immune to his antics, electing to grab another cherry to eat over paying him any mind. 

But Gojo reaches for the cherries right when you do, obviously and intentionally going for the same one you are, and your fingers brush against one another. You scowl and rather than play some weird version of finger footsie, you go for a different cherry.

Annoyed, you shoot him another glare, or at least, you intend to, but he’s pulled his dumb blindfold down and that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s up to no good. You can already feel your blood pressure rising. Dealing with him like this is even more of a pain than usual.

He holds your gaze, his eyes clear as the summer sky, glimmering, as he presses the cherry to his mouth every so gently, as if he’s kissing it. You watch, almost entranced, your mouth suddenly dry. Gojo rolls it over his lips, parting them ever so slightly to press the damn fruit further in, his tongue darting out and—

You force yourself to look away, rolling your eyes as you do. “What the hell are you doing? You look stupid.”

Gojo merely hums, chewing on the cherry. You hope he bites into the pit and dies of cyanide poisoning. 

He tosses a few more cherries into his mouth before he speaks, another seductive drawl, and though you would never admit it, you think your immunity grows weaker every time he uses that damn tone of voice. “Hey.”

“What,” you deadpan, glancing at him.

Gojo grins at you and his lips part just slightly, calling your attention to them again. He reaches up and slowly pulls a cherry stem from his mouth. It’s looped into a little knot and the sight of it throws you back to your middle school days— your classmates giggling quietly to themselves over the implications of things like tongue tied cherry stems and candies unwrapped using one’s tongue alone. 

“So,” he starts, his stupid blue eyes shining with shameless amusement, “have you heard what they say about people who can do this?”

He grins at you, far too pleased with himself for his own damn good. You know the answer he’s looking for. And he should know that hell will freeze over before you give it to him.

“Yeah. They call them idiots for putting the damn cherry stem in their mouths.”

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #i actually do not eat a lot of cherries #i thought i was allergic for the longest time #actually yellow nectarines are my summer fruit of choice #i had one the other day and it was just so juicy and sweet #oh the title #it's obviously a pun but i don't know if the fic really implies enough that the 'ease' part refers to how 'easily' gojo did the thing #but someone like him could easily tie a knot from a cherry stem or unwrap a starburst #he's a freak #i hate him go to hell gojo #infinite loop!verse

[respectthepetty]

Plant Daddies - Episode 3

This isn't about colors. This is about the Triangular Theory of Love in Hidden Agenda, but it's like lasagna; it has layers. Tee, is this about Step by Step?!

I wrote about plant symbolism in Hidden Agenda in Plant Daddies at Tea Time:

Yellow Chrysanthemum, the tea Zo drinks, represents slighted or neglected love and the taste of its tea is sweet.

And Red Roselle, the juice Joke drinks, represents romantic love or passion and the taste of its juice is sour.

The boys stick to those drinks.

But this week they switched without any comment.

Also, Zo told two stories this week from his Legends of Love book:

Red Roses get their color from the blood of Adonis mixing with the tears of Aphrodite seeping into the ground which caused the roses to change from white to red.

Yellow Sunflowers exist because Clytie fell in love with the sun god, Apollo, so when he left her, she looked at the sun so long that she grew roots and turned into a sunflower.

Both stories deal with a person losing the person she loves. However, the roses story is about love being taken away, and the sunflower story is about love leaving. Also, Zo stated he would cry if he lost his love, while Joke stated he wouldn't leave that person in the first place.

Yet Nita's take on the story is to move on from the past and find someone else.

Once again, this isn't about colors, but we now have two separate occasions where plants/flowers are included in the narrative, and those items are color-coded yellow and red, which only adds to the way we are seeing those colors pop up in the show with a third color.

I mentioned in the Plant Daddies at Tea Time post that primary colors seem to be intentional in the show because this episode, the only colored clothing Joke handed Zo when they were shopping was yellow.

Yet by the end, Zo was in blue with his yellow backpack.

So what does this have to do with the Triangular Theory of Love?

Well, all things come in threes:

The Primary Colors:

Red

Yellow

Blue

These are the basic colors needed to make all other colors; therefore, all colors start from these three, and all colors stem from these three colors.

The Love Triangle:

Joke likes Zo.

Zo likes Nita.

Nita likes Joke?

Issue - We don't know if Nita does still have feelings for Joke because her response to the story seemed as if she would get over Joke.

The Dating Rules:

Rule #1 - Do not gawk at your love interest.

Rule #2 - Ease into it. Don't rush. Oh, AND CONSENT!

Rule #3 - Do whatever Joke says.

Rule #3 - Stay true to yourself starting with the first date.

Issue - Joke seems to have problems sticking to his own rules.

The Triangular Theory of Love:

"It breaks down love into three components."

Passion - Zo is passionate about pursuing Nita.

Intimacy - Joke tells Zo he must ask Nita out to build this.

Commitment - And once they begin to date, this will evolve.

Issue - Zo already notices his heart isn't fluttering around Nita the way he thought it would, yet his heart seems to be doing something around Joke, which is maybe why Joke continues to advise Zo to do some self-reflection and try new things.

Because just like Khai and Third in the correctly titled Theory of Love, this process isn't just for Zo, but Joke:

Passion - Joke is passionate about getting Zo by any means necessary.

Commitment - Joke is committed to this bit, he made Zo give him explicit promises (to work together, to help him get in the debate team), and he already stated he would be committed in a relationship during their story time.

Intimacy - This is what Joke is lacking, which is why he developed this huge scheme to get Zo to spend more time with him.

The Balance:

Is this a story about finding the middle ground between two extremes?

So far, we have a story about Joke, a passionate guy who drinks sour red roselle juice and openly admits to being aggressive about love like the thorns of a rose, trying to develop intimacy with a boy who drinks sweet yellow chrysanthemum tea and says he would just stare at what he can't have than go after it like a sunflower in order to show his commitment . . .

Then both of these boys need each other to find that balance between their two ways of loving.

Joke has launched in elaborate plan to get Zo while Zo was willing to admire Nita from a distance for the rest of his life. Zo can't just stare at his crush (Rule #1), and Joke can't rush into things (Rule #2), yet neither has been truly themself from the start to get the other person (Rule #3).

In order to make this work:

Joke needs to learn sweet intimacy.

And Zo needs to understand burning passion.

So they can find a balance and be able to commit to each other when the time comes.

And maybe that will help their friends find a good balance between the secrets they hide in the dark and the looks they give in the light.

And maybe even rethink how they see things so they can find new meaning in what has been in front of them the entire time.

Because that look was more than what Kot said. Right?

#hidden agenda #hidden agenda the series #joke x zo #the colors mean things #but this isn't about the colors #plant daddies

[bmhcdnsms]

protective ! biker boyfriend headcanons

[male reader] - fem alligned, minors / ageless, and blank blogs dni or u will be blocked !

protective ! biker bf . . . who doesn't let you go anywhere without him. exclusively rides his bike, he knows how to drive a regular car, just chooses not to, and trust everytime he picks you up, it's with his bike humming in the background, waiting to be ridden.

"there's my pretty boy," he flirts, leaning down the moment you open the door and stealing a kiss from you. and when he feels the way you so naturally kiss back, he can't help but go in for another. and then another. he gets a total of five kisses before he's satisfied.

"remind me why we need to take your loud ass bike to the conveinence store, luci?" his full name is lucian, but the nickname luci was coined after you guys got really comfortable in your relationship. and he loves it. only when it comes from your lips, of course.

"everyone in this shit town needs to know whenever we go anywhere," he explains simply, taking off of his thick leather jacket (he has another layer of a thick, long sleeve, specially made for bikers, shirt underneath) and holding it open for you to wear, "plus, it gives me an excuse to see you in my gear. makes you so sexy," he teases, leaning down to give you another surprise kiss before shoving the helmet down onto your head.

now you're wearing your own helmet, his jacket, and riding on the back of his bike with your arms tightly bound around his waist.

protective ! biker bf . . . who spoils you rotten. he wants to treat you to the most lavish of experiences and he'll deliver them to you with you on the back of his bike or take you to those places with you riding on the back of said bike.

the revving of a familiar, loud engine makes you roll out of bed with a pissed off look on your face. you tug the curtains open, looking at your boyfriend at the end of your lawn with your arms crossed over your chest. since he's not that far, you can see how cheesily wide his grin is.

you open the window, knowing that he'll start throwing pebbles at it if you don't, and lean out into the open night air.

"you trying to wake the whole place, luci?" the usage of the nickname shows to him that you're not actually mad at him.

"no, just you, my love," he says, sauntering across the lawn with his hands behind his back, "wanted to give you a late night gift,"

he reveals a huge bouquet of roses that were hiding behind his back.

"luci," your tone is unique; showing that you're flattered and embarassed in the lavish, sweet gift, but also scolding in some sense because of how late it was for him to be doing this.

"[nameee]," he says, in the same candence. he walks over, putting the stems into his mouth and biting down as he works on climbing up to your window. and when he's finally arrived to your heigth, he's handing you the roses with a grin, "for my boy,"

"you're such a romantic," you tease, not finding the will to be mad at him anymore. not when he looks so perfect with his messy hair and smirking face. "c'mere," you say, leaning forward with your hand already on his cheek.

he welcomes the affection with ease, pressing into you and grabbing you by the waist to keep you stationed right where he wants you. it takes smacking his chest to make him let you go, revealing his smirking, proud face on display for you to glare at.

"thank you, baby, they're really pretty," you say, pecking him once more before turning away to set them on the table.

"i got the best out of the bunch for you, pretty boy," he says, kicking off of the window sill and shedding off his jacket and boots. soon, he's collapsing onto your bed and waiting for you to join him, "think i get some cuddles for this grand gesture now."

"oh, do you, really?" you tease, yelping when he suddenly pulls you down to lay with him, laughing as his fingers tickle your sides.

"some cuddles and some more?" he says with a wink, making you roll your eyes.

"shut up."

protective ! biker bf . . . who makes it very obvious you're taken. he's got you two matching jewelry, you're his lockscreen and homescreen, he's your lockscreen (he let you have your homescreen be whatever you wanted it to be...the lockscreen is what mattesr most anyway because that's the one that everyone sees), he's got a bracelet on his wrist with your name spelt out in childish beads, he's got a necklace with a heart locket that has a picture of you two, he has your name tattooed- just kidding, he doesn't...but keep an eye on him because he's been genuinely thinking of getting one.

"baby, you're not wearing it," your supposedly tough boyfriend whines as you're both about to leave, "wear it!" he childishly whines again.

he's talking about his letterman jacket that he got custom made with his last name on the back and the emblem of his biker gang on the back.

it's not a serious group - in the sense they go around causing purposeful trouble, but still he wanted to have some sort of physical proof to show that it was a sentimental thing for him. he never let anyone else wear it, but you and him too.

"i have my own jacket..."

you just killed him. he's writhing on the floor in immense pain as he clutches his chest and cries out for mercy. his dramatic tantrum won't be held over until that jacket is around your shoulders, so you better just put it on to make him shut up.

-

his lockscreen is a photo of you hugging him from behind while he has his helmet on. your kissing the top of the hard shell, a smile on your lips and a masked one on his. it's a selfie, so you're looking right at the camera with a crinkle in your eyes from your wide smile.

his homescreen is a photo of you and him resting in bed. he doesn't have his shirt on so your head is just resting on his bare chest. and you're sleepy, completely unaware of the photo he's taking of you. he's sleepily grinning ear to ear as he looks down at you though, so enamored by how cute you are. if you squint, you can see the initials of your name inked into his collarbone - which is only a couple inches away from where your head is resting.

protective ! biker bf . . . who uses his easily intimidating stance to scare off anyone that comes up to you two. in any situation, he's standing very close by and very ready to bite at anyone that gets too close (metaphorically, of course...).

the tent restaurant you were sitting in had to be one of your favorites. they served the best food, were run by a cute old lady, and had a good crowd surrounding you two. his leather jacket was thrown over your shoulders to keep you warm, since air did keep coming into the place, and he was sat right across from you.

the plastic table had all types of food scattered everywhere and his eyes practically had stars in them.

"which one do you want, babe?" he said, already getting ready to give you a big portion of the food that you both ordered.

you told him which one with a grateful smile, kissing his hand quickly as he was reaching out for some of the delicious food to plate for you. he blushed profusely, cursing you for being so "adorable" and flustering him so much for no reason.

"i just have the best boy-"

"sorry, excuse me, but you dropped your napkin," a stranger passing by said, bending over and picking up the cloth that had fallen from your lap and onto the ground.

you took it from the man's hold, ignoring the way your fingers brushed against his, and politely thanked him.

"thank-"

"here, don't use that one now since it's dirty, babe," lucian says quickly, grabbing it from your hand before you can return it to its previous position. instead, he hands you his and gently smiles, "use mine,"

"what? no, you don't have to," you scold, looking at him with a warning look. you would be fine with your own napkin anyway, plus you didn't want him to eat without one.

the stranger looked at the exchange with a sheepish smile, then directed his next words to you, "if you would like, i could get you another one from a staff member?"

"that would be gr-"

"we don't need your help, man, just scram already," lucian sighs, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. as if he was incredibly stressed with the newcomer.

you kicked him under the table, which he winced and pouted at.

"uhm, don't mind him. and it's alright, i can flag down a waitress so you don't have to worry about it." you said with a kind smile, hoping the guy would take the hint and leave. you knew why lucian was acting up and you would rather not colorfully scold him in front of a stranger.

"if you insist," he kindly returns the smile before taking his leave, scattering away when he notices your boyfriend glaring at him through his hand that was covering his face.

immediately, you reach over and pinch lucian's cheek and tug hard, "are you serious? you fucking man-baby,"

"i'm sorrryyy," he drawls out, the tone of his voice shaking as you tug and wiggle his cheek in contempt.

-

in conclusion, he's a big dramatic sweetheart when it comes to you and also always really flirty and playful. unless has something to say, or exsists too close to you two, then he becomes a grade-A asshole and finds a way to make that person's interaction with you severely uncomfortable and awkward.

#LUCIAN NEW OC UNLOCKED #protective biker bf headcanons #biker bf male reader #male reader imagines #biker bf headcanons #biker bf imagines #biker boyfriend headcanons #protective boyfriend headcanons #protective boyfriend male reader #protective bf x male reader #jealous bf x male reader

[yeonboy]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ♡ choi beomgyu.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with. He aches. And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish. He needs to take a step back. Or, Choi Beomgyu is head over heels in love with his best friend – and she simply doesn’t feel the same. 

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends!au ♡ unrequited love!au ♡ angst ♡ drama.

❧ 4.7 k words

❧ warnings! profanity, an extreeeeeme amount of pining, one-sided feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, heartbreak, some self-deprication, one (1) mention of drinking and partying, one (1) mention of making out, maybe an innuendo or two! mostly just buckets full of mopey, pining gyu </3 and a hopeful (?) ending (:

❧ note! i wrote this because i was listening to m5’s whiskey and crying and thinking of gyu so take that how u will </3 please note that the lyrics are there just to set the tone, not to be taken too literally. i just love this song, man. please don’t hate me for the ending, i changed it thrice and then settled on this. it just felt perfect to me this way :”) also! pls excuse the lack of dividers, tumblr won't let me add them without hiding the post from the tags for some reason :/

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

i never knew that love was blind; till i was hers and she was never mine…

“So, I have a question for you.”

Beomgyu blinks at your words, letting the steel straw escape his lips as you pull his strawberry milkshake away from him. 

In fascination, he watches the way your lips wrap around the shiny tube in the exact place where his own had been. You slurp once and pull away, leaving a tint of pink – pinker than the drink, pinker than Beomgyu’s cheeks, pinker than the love-goggles that are permanently on his eyes when he’s with you – on the edge of the straw.

“Gyu?”

He wants to wipe that pink away with his lips, so bad. But your hand comes in with a tissue to clean that precious speck of your lipstick away, before he can even blink a second time.

Now he blinks again and looks up at you. God, you’re so gorgeous with your brows all furrowed and lips all pouty. He is so thoroughly ruined by you. Why does he continue to subject himself to this torture instead of keeping his distance like a sane person? 

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Y–yeah? What question?”

“A hypothetical one. Very important, nonetheless.” You stare into space with your eyes squinted, perfect cheekbones reflecting the light from the evening traffic beyond the glass walls of the cafe you’re seated in. “If long time BFFs happen to develop feelings for each other, should they confess?”

Beomgyu chokes on air, freezing like a solid block of ice.

What did you just ask?

“You know… Just imagine! Two people who have been the best of friends for ages. And then one of them realizes they’re in love with the other.” Your rounded eyes turn to him with a hint of worry in them. “Should they confess and live their dream? Or should they take this secret to their grave and protect their friendship?”

Beomgyu is a mess. 

Why the actual hell are you asking him that? Him – the one guy in your entire life that doesn’t have to imagine this specific situation because he’s been living it for years, now?

Now, he’s not panicking because he thinks you might have figured him out and are trying to pave a path to confession. No, he's self-aware enough to not be deluded. And his panic kinda stems from this very fact. 

He's self-aware enough to know that while he's looking at you and daydreaming of a picket fence and good-morning kisses, your mind is stuck on someone else. Choi Soobin. Older than him, taller than him, cuter than him. Guy checks all boxes of the type of guys you like so well, Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is the reason why you created those boxes in the first place.

So he's scared out of his mind that you're paving a road to confess to Soobin.

“Wow, aren’t you super helpful this evening?”

Your whine of frustration pulls him out of his spiral. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. That’s a very subjective question.”

“Subjective?” You tilt your head in thought and Beomgyu dreads the next words you would say before you have even formed them: “Okay, let me answer it subjectively first then! Like, imagine if you had feelings for me. I wouldn't want you to confess them to me, like, ever.”

Ouch. Not that he plans to ever confess them to you, but still pretty ouch.

Slightly hurt, he drags his milkshake back to himself and slurps away the rest of it before smacking his lips and shaking his head. “Well then subjectively, it’s the complete opposite for me.”

You look at him with an extremely confused frown. “But what if I lose the friendship because you don't feel the same?” 

This hypothesis is making him lose his damn mind. 

“I… well, what if we lose the chance to be something much more amazing just because you were scared?”

Moment of introspection: he hopes to all the powers in the universe that he isn’t losing the chance to be something much more amazing with you just because he’s scared. You don’t like him like that, you won’t ever like him like that. 

He’s being smart and self-preservative. Not scared.

You're lost in thoughts for a moment, and then you suddenly get up with a jump. Grinning at him, you lean down to peck his cheek and rush out of the cafe before he can even fully absorb the warm brush of your lips against his skin. “You're the best, Gyu, thank you so much!”

In a daze, he brings his fingertips to brush against the apple of his cheek. 

Why did you run away like that? Why did you sound so excited? Fuck, are you going to confess right now? 

He pulls his fingertips away. 

They are pink.

yeah i was reckless, but i let it burn; i let it burn, yeah…

“And if they show up hand-in-hand, then what? Then what, huh, Tyun? It’s easy for you to say I’m overthinking, but you aren’t thinking nearly enough!”

Kang Taehyun, the university’s Student Council member who is in-charge of overseeing the set-up for tomorrow's inter-uni basketball game – and also Beomgyu’s best friend of fifteen years – rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets.

“Why do you keep setting yourself up for more pain, man? Why don't you try to invest these emotions somewhere they will be appreciated?”

“I can't just compel myself to start or stop feeling, dude…”

Shin Ryujin suddenly appears behind the bleachers that the two of them were covering with a banner, both hands planted in the back pockets of her jorts. They should look incredibly lame, but she somehow pulls them off. 

Beomgyu looks at her with wide eyes, wondering how much she heard.

“Yo, dumbass! Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” She’s smirking at him but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes him chuckle at the name. 

“The name's Beomgyu.”

“That's what I said. So, are you coming?”

Beomgyu has actually been trying to think of an excuse to get out his regular movie night with you - and this sounds like the perfect one. He shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t really got any plans, so… Maybe I will.”

Taehyun gives him a weird look because he knows Beomgyu always had plans on Fridays.

Ryujin grins wide. “Perfect! Well, just two requests.”

He squints with interest. “What requests?”

“Wear my jersey! And, uh, don’t bring a date, please?”

She looks extremely bashful while saying the second part of the sentence. Which is somewhat jarring. It’s Shin fucking Ryujin, she eats men for breakfast. Why is she almost blushing?

But then Taehyun is cackling, which reminds Beomgyu of the first request she made. He immediately scowls. “Hey! I’m not wearing your jersey like some groupie!

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are quirked up because he didn’t say no to the second request. And he knows he won’t; you're the only one he ever asks to accompany him to places, and he's only going to the game tomorrow to escape you. 

“Your loss. Just so you know, boys are lining up to wear my jersey…”

Scoffing, Beomgyu goes back to handing Taehyun more pins. “Yeah right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Ryujin scoffs. “Watch this - ayo, Heeseung! Wanna wear my jersey tomorrow?”

A screech from the Students Council’s Vice Prez is followed by a high-pitched: “For real? Yes, please, I—” 

“Sike! Haha, gotcha, little bitch!”

Taehyun is doubled over in laughter and even Beomgyu can’t hold in his chuckles at the look of utter devastation on Heeseung’s face and victory on Ryujin’s. She raises an eyebrow when their gazes meet. “See?”

“How much did you pay him for this skit?”

She smacks his shoulder with an irritated whine. “You’re way too fucking cynical for no damn reason, dude. Okay, no jersey - but get a no. 17 placard for me, at least?” 

Rolling his eyes, he finally nods. 

“Great! See ya tomorrow, loser! Bye, Tyun!”

Taehyun waves at her as she leaves, while Beomgyu cups his hands around his mouth to yell out: “The name’s Beomgyu!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually enjoy talking to a girl.” 

Offended to his very bones, Beomgyu gapes at his best friend. “Dude! I enjoy talking to girls! I’m straight! Or did you forget how I threw up that one time when you kissed me during spin-the-bottle in seventh gra—”

“Yes, I remember!” Taehyun smacks him with a scowl on his face. “But that’s not what I meant. Gyu, you only ever talk to Y/N. Or have you not realized that? And look absolutely lovesick and physically pained while doing that.”

“Nahhhh, untrue. It’s just—” He cuts himself off to purse his lips. Taehyun is one-hundred percent correct. “It’s just a little difficult to mask my emotions all the time, but I manage…”

Taehyun just shakes his head in obvious disappointment. Then he tilts his chin up towards the direction where Ryujin is laughing around with some girls from the cheer team. “She obviously likes you a lot. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles, lips forming a pout because this is so confusing. “But isn’t she basically signing up for the hurt if she’s doing this despite knowing where I stand with Y/N?

“Just…” Taehyun sighs. “Yeah, just don’t give her false hope.”

Beomgyu feels like he’s giving himself false hope every single time he talks to you, but what can be done.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You end up texting him first, that night, to cancel tomorrow’s movie night. You apparently have “plans” with a friend. 

Bile rises up Beomgyu’s throat at the thought of you finally going on a date with Soobin. 

He can’t get himself to directly ask if that is the case, but fuck, why won’t you tell him? He goes to sleep with a pain in his chest that night.

the feeling it was bittersweet, realizing i was in too deep…

As fate would have it, Beomgyu bumps into you at the very gates of the basketball stadium, the next evening. You look like a dream in your short skirt and varsity jacket.

He feels nauseous at the thought of discovering Soobin trailing behind you with a large drink with two straws, or something.

“Uh… these are your plans?” He says in a way of greeting.

Your eyes widen when you see him, but then you pout. “Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here? We would’ve come together!”

He immediately thinks of his promise to Ryujin and shakes his head. “Ah, actually… Shin Ryujin invited me.” 

Your mouth forms an O, a lost expression crossing your face. He’s never been great at reading people, but with the way his brain gets fuzzy around you, he’s doing an even worse job right now. Because he can absolutely not tell what this look on your face means. 

Right then, the girl herself arrives, a wistful smile on her face. “Thought I told you to not bring a date? And she’s wearing Chaewon’s jersey, hmph.”

“Oh! We didn't—”

You cut him off with a chuckle that somehow sounds a little strained. “Ah, I’m actually here with her sister!” 

Yunjin? He didn’t know you were friends with her… But that means no Soobin, right? Which might mean that no confession happened yesterday?

“Dude, Chaewon’s our Forward and our captain. No hard feelings!” Ryujin throws up a peace sign at you, and the two girls laugh.

After you leave to look for Yunjin, Ryujin stays back, smirking at him. But there’s a distinct look in her eyes that he can, for a change, recognize. Partly because the fuzz in his brain left along with you. And partly because he sees this look in the mirror everyday. 

“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” She doesn’t sound upset, just… regretful.

Taehyun’s words come back to him. “Ryu, I—” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I knew what I was getting into, Choi.” She smiles, this time, pointing at the ‘17’ placard in his hands. “I’m gonna score a basket just for this, though. Cheer loudly, ’kay?”

she was a lesson – i had to learn, i had to learn, yeah…

Beomgyu had gone to the game only for Ryujin, not for you. He literally came here to escape movie night with you.

Yet, he sits in the stadium with his eyes straying from Ryujin’s great moves as Point Guard, reaching across the court, to land on you. It’s so annoying and makes him feel so helpless, he wants to scream. But there’s something magnetic about your presence that just won’t let him exist peacefully.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? Exhausting and painful at all times?

What adds to the exhaustion and pain is the way you are seated with your eyes bright and teeth on display, Yunjin on one side and…Soobin on the other. 

Though he saw it coming, Beomgyu still finds it really hard to swallow the pain that pricks at his throat at the sight of you giggling into Soobin’s side and looking at the guy with eyes full of a million stars. He tries to seek comfort in the way Soobin seems to reciprocate your happiness, but it’s really hard.

He isn’t even jealous at this point, he’s just tired. If he could stop himself from feeling so much, all the damn time, he really, really would.

The crowd suddenly cheers, drawing his attention away from you – thankfully – and back to the court. And then his eyes widen in surprise. Ryujin stands with her hands braced on her hips, gaze directly directed at him. Well – she said she would score a basket for him and she did. She lifts a hand to point at him, causing a louder cheer to roar across the stadium, and Beomgyu cannot hold back the loud chuckle that escapes him. He raises both his hands up in a double thumbs-up.

Somewhere from three rows below, Heeseung shouts out an expletive at him, but the game has resumed again so everyone around the guy asks him to shut up.

Like clockwork, Beomgyu’s gaze slowly floats back up at the stands, slowly zeroing in towards your seat – only to stop short. You’re not in your seat. And neither is Soobin.

Oh.

Oh.

Now again, Beomgyu should be prepared to face this as well. But he’s once again at a loss.

Unwittingly, his brain conjures up images of you and Soobin finding a secluded, dark corner to make out in. He envisions the brightness he just saw in both of your gazes, imagines the tinkling giggles you would release, pictures the darkening of your cheeks. 

And in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to be happy for you. He can’t pretend to like Soobin. 

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with.

He aches.

And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish.

He needs to take a step back.

i used to try to forget her…

“Dude, the one thing I asked of you was to not hurt Ryujin. What the hell do you mean you’re taking her out?” 

Beomgyu pinches the bridge of his nose, almost regretting disclosing his plans to his best friend. But he needed Taehyun to be on his side to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. Although given the tone the guy is using with him right now, Beomgyu’s purpose might be failing either way. 

He puts his phone on loudspeaker, extracting a jacket from his closet to match the blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

“She was awarded MVP for yesterday’s game for the first time in this season. When I congratulated her on it, she called me her lucky charm—”

“Ugh, it’s as if she wants you to hurt her,” Taehyun murmurs and Beomgyu can hear the grimace in his voice through the phone.

“So I asked her if she wanted to celebrate the win with her lucky charm, and she said yes…”

Taehyun gives a sigh. “You literally flirted with her.”

“I did. Weren’t you the one telling me I should focus my feelings where they will be reciprocated?”

“Yes, you should. But do you even feel anything?”

“I do, yeah…” Immense sadness and despair with a brush of frustration. “I feel like I’m gonna have a good time with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Taehyun gives another sigh. “Just be smart, okay? Don’t lead her on, Gyu.”

“I won’t, man.”

Settling on a black denim jacket that goes with his jeans and boots of the same color, Beomgyu leaves his dorm in the half a decade old Corvette his parents have permitted him to keep on campus. He’s meeting Ryujin at the cafe, which saves him from spending time in the car with her.

When he enters the cafe, though, Beomgyu begins to wonder if he has somehow offended some higher, superior power by some action of his, for which he is now being punished on the daily.

Because before he can even begin to look around for his date, a giggling Soobin catches his eye. He’s sitting facing the door, feeding spaghetti to his date. 

His date.

You.

Your back is to him, but Beomgyu can still see how you’ve styled your hair in a way that is different than usual. You’ve always complained that your hair is too silky to be held up in an updo—a remark Beomgyu can never understand because he, personally, loves the texture of your hair—and so this complicated bun feels so strange on you.

And the off-shoulder dress instead of your beloved full-sleeves. And the dangling earrings instead of your usual studs. And—

Holy fuck, this isn’t you.

This isn’t you.

Beomgyu is fully frozen in his spot now, stunned and panicked at the same time.

Soobin is on a date – with someone else.

Should he be happy or concerned? 

The sweat accumulating on his palms indicates the latter. 

“Gyu!”

The call snaps his attention to a corner of the cafe, where Shin Ryujin sits with a grin on her face. Pushing his lips up, he waves at her. But his eyes involuntarily swim back to Soobin once more – only this time, both the taller boy and his date, Kim Chaewon, the basketball captain, are looking at Beomgyu with matching smiles.

He doesn’t know how to respond. Or react. His smile is frozen on his lips and his hand is still up in a wave, however, so the couple take that to be his greeting and go back to talking among themselves. And Beomgyu pushes himself to finally walk towards Ryujin’s table.

“I see you already spotted what I was dying to gossip about,” Ryujin grumbles with a scowl when he settles opposite her. 

Beomgyu blinks. “Uh… Soobin?”

“Who?” This time Ryujin is the one to give a clueless blink. But then her eyebrows rise. “Oh, the boy. Yeah, in a way, I guess? But Chaewon, obviously. She’s finally on a date with her crush of a whole ass year.”

What? “O–oh?”

The waiter comes over to take their orders, right then. Beomgyu asks for a club sandwich and beer, while Ryujin chooses an extra cheese loaded pizza and a virgin mojito.

“You don’t want me drunk around you, loser.” She winks at him but her smile is forced enough to make guilt unfurl in Beomgyu’s chest. “Anyways! Chaewon! She’s finally winning at life and it’s all thanks to your girl.”

Beomgyu’s heart jumps up to his throat for multiple reasons.  

His girl? You? Who else could it even be.

He drily swallows. “My…?”

“She was so hard at work during yesterday’s match! Fuck knows what magical words she said to both of them but they finally stopped their cat and mouse chase for good.” A fond look enters Ryujin’s gaze as she peeks past him to look at the couple. “It was sickening, watching Chaewon pine day in and out. Kinda like it is to watch you.”

Ryujin is laughing at her own joke, but Beomgyu’s mind is stuck on the information she just imparted. “Yesterday’s match?”

“Yeah. She arrived with Yunjin, remember? They both sat with Soobin and talked about Chaewon the entire time. Then she said something to Chae during break, and boom – this scardy ass dude was finally asking Chae out at the end of the match!”

Oh, fuck. This is why you were sitting with Soobin yesterday.

You were setting him up with Chaewon. 

This is probably why you have been hanging out with the guy and generally interacting so much with him recently as well.

Wait, was this why you asked him that question about having feelings for a best friend? As far as his general university knowledge goes, Chaewon and Soobin have been best friends since before college.

Oh fuck, indeed.

Beomgyu really blew things out of proportion and let his overthinking mind carry him away.

“Speaking of – when do you plan to confess, Choi?”

Beomgyu scoffs at the question. “Never.”

Ryujin looks genuinely confused at the response. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t feel the same, Ryu. And she’s my best friend. I can’t risk it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

That’s – an odd question. One that Beomgyu feels like should be very obvious to answer, but when he opens his mouth to do just that, he has to shut it back again. Because ‘I just know’ is going to sound as stupid out loud as it does in his head. 

But then what else does he have? He thought you had feelings for someone else but that was obviously not the case. 

“I… I mean isn’t it obvious? She would’ve hinted at it… said anything at all if she felt anything…”

The moment Ryujin narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, he knows he messed up. “Like you have? You’re sitting on your hands, too, dumbass. Does she even know that you don’t go on dates?”

“I’m on a date right now.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll leave this date with a black eye.”

The waiter arrives with their food, and as Ryujin dives right in, Beomgyu takes a moment to actually think about what the girl has been saying.

You not having feelings for someone else doesn’t automatically imply that you’ve suddenly stopped viewing Beomgyu platonically. Which is why he doesn’t want to suddenly drop his plans of moving on and go back to pining over you.

He wishes for this to be a smooth transition – getting rid of his romantic feelings for you while also staying friends. But if he pays mind to what Ryujin just said, he will block this way for himself.

Because the moment he confesses, it will be a one-way street. You’ll never talk to him again and he’ll be too embarrassed to even show you his face.

Now, of course, he isn’t even considering what could happen if you actually ended up reciprocating – because he’s done enough of that for years now and he’s honestly… tired.

Loving you, as he has concluded time again, is painful and exhausting. He just wants to be happy again.

“How about you stop giving me love advice and start looking for someone new to crush on?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at Ryujin, who picks up an olive from her pizza to throw at his face with a scowl.

But then when she dissolves into giggles, sprinkling her happiness and beauty all over him, Beomgyu has to pause to wonder if she doesn’t actually need to look for someone new to crush on.

He offers to drop her off at the end of the date and Ryujin thanks him for the treat. His hands feel a little clammy when she grins at him with a tilt of her head, short hair flying up with the wind.

“Will… will I see you again?”

“Uh, yeah? You see me everyday, dumbass.” Ryujin gives a chuckle but it doesn’t sound natural.

“No, I mean – like this. On a date.”

Her shoulders deflate and her smile leaves her face. Pursing her lips, she looks at him in what could only be defined as disappointment. “This wasn’t a date, Beomgyu. And I won’t be your rebound.”

He’s not asking her to be – except, maybe he is. He doesn’t know anymore.

She seems to know more than him because she gives him another one of those wry smiles of hers and pats his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel and get out of this stupid limbo. I can be your shoulder to cry on, but not a heart to play with. Good night, loser.”

He truly feels like a loser when she walks away from his car.

but now i smile when i remember.

Beomgyu has heard people talk a great deal about ‘right person, wrong time’ or ‘wrong person, right time’, but he has never felt the gravity of it the way he does now.

You’re sitting on the bleachers with Lee Heeseung and giggling your heart away like he’s the funniest man alive. Heeseung, to his credit, is looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that rivals the entire galaxy.

And as Beomgyu watches the scene from next to the water dispenser in a discrete corner, the bottom of his stomach feels strangely calm. 

It’s been a week since he had that confrontation with Ryujin. He didn’t exactly take her advice and run to confess to you, but he certainly did drop hints. And he certainly did observe your reactions.

At the end, he ruefully finds himself exactly where he always has been – watching you offer your affections to someone else from afar.

“How long has he been keeping this in?” he asks around a scoff when Heeseung shows you some magic trick and gloats in your excited clapping.

Taehyun hums as he screws the lid of the water dispenser tight and dusts his hands off to come stand next to Beomgyu. “Fuck knows. I think he’s always smiled a little too brightly at her whenever—oh my God, did you see that? Butterfingers! I could see that card from here. Making a joke out of the best card trick in the books!”

Beomgyu laughs at his friend’s grumbles. Then he gives a sigh. “She looks happy, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does. But I don’t really think she’s on the same page as Lee. Or even you for that matter.” Taehyun settles on the ground and Beomgyu follows his lead. “She’s enjoying her college days like a normal uni student. And maybe you should too, Gyu. Enough of this pining, enough of being in love. Don’t you want to get drunk off your ass and makeout with some ditzy freshman at a party?”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face because Taehyun snorts when their eyes meet. 

“Okay, maybe not all of it. But… we’re young, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in love. Hopefully this time with someone who loves you more?”

Beomgyu watches the way you lean closer to Heesung to whisper something in his ear, and as the guy’s cheeks grow red in response, he frowns to himself. 

“What about all those times when she seemed jealous? Or upset I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

“Dude, for real?” Taehyun punches his shoulder. “You get like that too when I’m not available at your every beck and call.”

Beomgyu slowly exhales, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up to let the sunlight wash over his face.

He really is stepping out of his delusions, this time.

You don't like him like that. You don't have feelings for him.

You and him are going to remain just friends.

He's finally ready to face the fact and move forward.

“Yo, loser! Wanna play catch?”

He’s smiling even before he has opened his eyes. Taehyun clears his throat in an exaggerated way with his eyebrows raised. “Never seen you grin that brightly in a while, my man…”

He looks around towards the source of the voice, his grin turning into laughter at the evil gleam in Ryujin’s eyes as she hurtles the basketball towards him.

Somehow managing to catch it with an enraged gasp, Beomgyu wastes no time in chasing the girl with it.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he notices the way you have cuddled up with Heesung and how the two of you are laughing at his antics with Ryujin.

When he briefly meets your eye, you give him a thumbs up with your grin.

And for the first time in years, he is able to smile back at you without an ounce of pain in his heart.

and i was so young till she kissed me like a whiskey… like a whiskey.

FIN.

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

#txt #txt x you #txt x reader #txt angst #beomgyu #choi beomgyu #beomgyu fic #beomgyu fanfic #choi beomgyu x reader #beongyu x you #beomgyu x reader #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt fanfic #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #tomorrow x together

[honey-beann]

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Nines x Reader Angst

Note: This fic is based upon the poems mentioned within this ask, and is pretty heavily steeped in angst (though I was sure to end it on a more hopeful note this time). I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 3,133

It was the first of the month, and your fingers pulled deftly at the small segments of the orange, shredding the paper-thin flesh with a practiced ease that Nines couldn't quite comprehend.

Your hands were gentle yet confident, your nails never once piercing the delicate surface of the fruit that you held so loosely between your fingertips and palms.

You smiled up at him softly, your eyes shining with a quiet and peaceful type of joy that remained entirely unknown to the android sitting across from you.

It was mid afternoon, and the two of you sat outside in the warm sunlight at your insistence.

"If we have to do this."

You'd said,

"We should at least have a little fun with it, don't you think?"

Nines did not think.

But he did nod.

And from there, you had guided him outside of the large compound that housed your office and out to the greenery below, where small purple flowers had begun to sprout out of the ground now that the rainy season was over.

Distantly, Nines could hear water dribbling out of a culvert not too far from where the two of you were sitting atop a stone step that stemmed from the pathway, and he was reminded of the garden that lay somewhere in the depths of his mind, and the voice that had taught him everything that he'd known.

That was why he was here.

To unlearn.

Once the revolution had ended, most androids, after having deviated, went on to live normal lives filled with that feeble sense of accomplishment that all biological beings seemed to strive for.

But Nines was unable to do so.

Something gripped him even still, from deep within, pulling him away from whatever emulated humanity his "freed" brethren had achieved.

He had deviated, but he was still so stuck.

There was still a harsh layer of programming that seemed to dictate his very personality and being, and it permeated every sense of self that he was apparently supposed to have.

Sometimes, it confused him, the fact that he could not quite relate to those around him who had been so eager in their expression and so capable of thinking with their "hearts" rather than their minds.

Other times, it just frightened him.

He would never admit it aloud, but one of very few emotions he had felt since his awakening was fear.

Fear for what he was and what was wrong with him, fear over whether or not it was possible for him to change, and above all else, fear of what it may have felt like to feel in that same way that everyone else did.

What was it like to hope and express so simply? To grieve or hurt?

Was it worth moving forward if there was no going back?

In the end, Markus had answered that for him with his new "support resources".

It appeared that for many androids who were in some ways like Nines, built for violence and without that integral ability to connect with others,

Deviancy did not fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle.

So now, he and many other androids all over America saw people like you.

Trained in a skill that he could not comprehend, and meant to be closer to a friend than a therapist, he was supposed to see you on the first and the fourteenth of each month, and somehow, you were supposed to teach him that evasive art of emotion, of humanity.

He was unsure of how anyone could do this, but, out of curiosity more than anything else, had agreed nonetheless.

At worst, he would meet a new face. Being a deviant who was not in touch with his own emotions made for a boring life. The more people he could introduce into it to give him something new to focus on, the better.

So here he was

Sitting outside with a near stranger as you peeled your orange across from him, offering him that kind smile as if you had it in infinite supply and were required to get rid of some stock.

The birds were chirping, and the water was running, and the day was as peaceful as could be.

But Nines never much cared for the silence, so he spoke through it.

"What made you take this job?"

He asked curiously, watching as your hands ceased movement for the briefest of moments, as if your thoughts had required just a twinge more focus for a second or two, before you answered.

"I like making friends."

You said simply, and Nines rose a brow at that, but did not say anything more. He did not truly see the value of friends. Sure, he found people to be entertaining, but there was a tiresome quality to being viewed that he did not enjoy nearly enough for it to be worth building strong relationships.

So instead of commenting, the android simply nodded, as if he understood.

He could see in your eyes though, still alight with amusement, that you knew he did not.

You were silent for a few more moments as you wedged your finger between the two halves of the orange, splitting it in twain before you began removing the silky white film from the dual outsides.

Finally though, after it seemed that the part requiring your attention had passed, you brought your gaze back up to Nines.

"What made you accept this opportunity?"

The android was surprised to hear your question, but in the end decided to be honest. There was no sake in lying, not if he truly wished to learn anything.

"I was curious."

He said simply, and you nodded before inspecting both halves of the fruit in front of you, smiling with what appeared to be satisfaction.

It intrigued Nines to see you so appeased by something as simple as an orange, but before he could ask about it and your obvious contentedness, you reached out and offered him a freshly peeled half.

Nines stared at it for a few moments before his gaze moved back up to yours.

He rose a brow.

"What for?"

He asked, unmoving despite knowing that you wished for him to take it.

"You."

You replied simply, smile never wavering, even as he still didn't move to take the fruit from your hand.

"I can't eat it."

He stated matter of factly, but to that, you just nodded.

"I know. But it's still for you."

At that, Nines grew even more confused than he already was, but, intrigued about where you could be going with this, reached out and took the orange, feeling its soft flesh squish beneath the sturdy pads of his fingertips, his grip too strong, as if he weren't made to hold onto something so easily crushed.

And, to be fair, he wasn't.

Even still, if you were at all upset by the way the orange half was almost instantly disfigured within his palm, you didn't show it, simply choosing to slowly peel a segment of your own orange away from the large section you were holding in your hand before popping it into your waiting mouth.

Nines spoke again.

"Why an orange?"

He asked, watching as you shrugged your shoulders casually, swallowing your bite of the slightly tart fruit before you replied,

"My sister and I always used to split them. They're good for sharing."

Nines rose a brow at that,

"Only for sharing?"

You nodded,

"I think so. At least that's what my sister and I always said. I would peel it because she could never figure out how to on her own, and she would eat half to leave me with just the perfect amount."

Nines nodded, as if in understanding, and perhaps, some small part of him was honest in that.

"But I can't eat it."

He said simply, causing you to smile once more,

"That doesn't matter, you can still smell it can't you? Feel it? Either way, you'd better learn how to enjoy it, because it's yours."

Nines hummed in response to your words, watching as you finished your half of the orange before sighing blissfully and moving to lay yourself down atop the grass.

He stayed on the concrete path, but watched without judgement or disdain for your playful actions.

He didn't understand you, but a part of him liked that. It made you equals.

He left that day with your name locked into his calendar for the fourteenth of the month.

Because maybe there was something to sharing an orange with you.

When he returned later that month, you'd had another orange to share with him, and to his surprise, another for him to peel himself.

"To practice."

You'd said as you presented it to him shortly before you started peeling your own, the afternoon sun warm on your face and back as it shone down from above.

Nines had watched you for a few moments, noting the way that you used your thumb to pierce the firm rind of the fruit just enough to break the seal, but never enough to stab the sweet citrus inside.

He tried to do the same, but instantly, his thumb plunged directly into the center, spraying juice everywhere.

Much to his surprise though, you didn't laugh or correct him, you just shrugged your shoulders and offered him a half of yours, somehow already peeled so cleanly he was almost envious.

"You'll learn."

You'd said.

There hadn't been an ounce of hesitance in your voice.

He believed you.

Months passed, and to each visit, regardless of the season, you always brought two oranges.

And at each visit, he always failed to emulate your delicate hands, crushing fruit after fruit with what he would come to learn was his own rash eagerness to succeed.

He was impatient and irrational, never waiting long enough to hear a single soul out, never caring to make a friend.

Unless of course, they were you.

He learned these things about himself, and with each coming realization, there was always the soothing smell of orange in the air, and thus the knowledge that it was okay for him to be irrational and impatient here.

Here was with you, and where you were, there was not only a space for him, but also an orange for him.

You peeled the oranges, and he made sure you were left with the perfect amount to eat afterward.

You were a team.

Friends.

And then, slowly, more.

And it was with this development, that Nines learned that he did not have hands gentle enough to peel an orange, but he did have hands gentle enough to hold you.

And twice a month, the two of you would sit in his kitchen, each with an orange, and you would peel them.

You were ever an expert, and always had your half to share.

Nines, on the other hand, even after years, had yet to learn, and struggled to follow your example.

Still, you always assured him that his slow, and sometimes seeming lack of progress, was okay.

You would always have enough for the two of you.

And what else mattered?

Well, it turned out, as the years marched onward, a lot.

Because sure, Nines was much better at understanding and expressing his own emotions with your continued support...

But as he watched those around you, he realized that there was so very much more.

None of which he could provide you with.

Cold and stern, he was not made to have a family, and when he told you this, he had seen that perfect light dim slightly behind your eyes.

"That's okay."

You had assured him,

"We can get a cat."

So you did.

You walked into that rescue shelter together, hand in hand, searching for a kitten to take home with you, something to nurture with all of that extra love you had.

But life had other plans, and you left there that day with an elderly orange former tomcat named Clementine.

You called him Clem.

Nines did too.

He was the second thing he ever loved.

The two of you had three wonderful years with that sweet old cat before he passed away peacefully in your arms one night as Nines gently pet his head, watching as he slipped away to some vast unknown that the android knew he would never be able to follow him into.

You cried into his soft fur, leaning against your love's chest as you held Clem close, whimpering over and over about how you couldn't put him down, how you couldn't bare to let him grow cold.

Nines had soothed you to the best of his ability, until finally, you had agreed to help him return sweet Clementine to the earth where he belonged, a beautiful and perfect part of the world.

You planted an orange tree in the soil above where you buried him.

It blossomed far earlier than what ever should have been possible.

You told Nines that they were the sweetest oranges you had ever eaten. He still couldn't peel them.

You assured him you were happy to keep showing him until he learned, no matter how long it took.

But now, there were more daunting issues on the android's mind, ones that far exceeded being unable to peel oranges.

You had grown lonely in the year since Clem had passed, even with Nines by your side,

And it seemed like every party you attended had some new mother, once an old friend, with a child for you to hold so dearly that the sight filled him with a sickening dread.

You yearned for a life he could not give you.

And even worse than that, he yearned for you to have a life that no other could take.

He had mourned the only other creature he had come to love and adore with such fervor as you.

He could not bare to do it a second time.

He had once wondered so innocently what it felt like to grieve.

A large part of him wished then that he had never known.

An even larger part of him wanted to ensure he never felt that way again.

He peeled his last orange with you on the first of the month, a decade to the date since your first meeting.

That evening, with a heart as heavy as lead he bid you farewell, watching as you tried to no avail to persuade him to reconsider, to let you back in again.

But at each slight falter, he saw you crying into soft orange fur, or dancing with a child he could never raise, and he held tight to his resolve.

He tried to get you to keep the home you owned together for yourself.

You told him with tears in your eyes that you loved him too much to take away all that he had worked so hard to earn.

There was a great deal of pain involved with living alone in a home that love had built, he found in the empty months toward the start of your absence.

Still, he could not bring himself to leave.

Your pictures were in the hall, the walls around them sun bleached so heavily that it seemed the shape of the frames would always remain, and how could he so casually abandon one of so few traces of you?

And your beloved cat was in the ground, grave marked by the orange tree that for the very first time ever, neglected to bear fruit that year.

Nines took it as a sign, and did not peel any oranges.

The second year after you'd left, you called him.

"Just checking in." You'd said, voice teary.

It was the anniversary of Clem's death.

Nines understood.

He let you speak, even though your voice hurt to hear.

He'd hoped you would have moved on by now,

But knew far too well why you had not,

So he neglected to comment on how desperately you deserved to love and be loved by someone, anyone else.

He was sure you would find that someday, whether he reminded you of your worthiness or not.

"I miss you."

You told him.

"I know."

He said.

Then, he sighed.

"I miss you too."

There was a strong silence, and, sensing that you had finished saying all that you needed to, he said the words he had been dreading having to speak since hearing your beautiful voice again after having gone so long without it.

"This will probably be the last time I answer."

He said gently, and he heard you sigh and breathe a shaky breath from the other end of the line.

"I know."

You whispered,

"I love you."

Nines felt a tear drip down the left side of his face at these three simple words, but returned them with a deep and painful honesty,

"I love you too."

He hung up shortly thereafter, because he knew you never would.

After that, the orange tree stopped blooming again for another three years.

Until finally, one bright summer day, on the first of the month, Nines exited his home to find a single ripe orange on the tree.

He picked it carefully, almost as if he believed it might turn to dust before his very eyes if he gripped it too firmly.

After this, he sat on the cement steps leading up toward the house, and, with a deep breath, pressed his thumb against the firm rind of the fruit.

It split beneath the pressure, but to his surprise, his finger did not go through.

Carefully, and with so much focus you would have thought him to be diffusing a bomb, Nines pulled away at that leathery peel until only the supple fruit beneath remained.

He stared down at it in what was almost surprise, before he took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the seam, splitting it in twain just as he'd seen you do a thousand times before.

He stared down at the two halves, vision slightly bleary with unexpected tears until finally, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and typed your name in.

He didn't know if you still had the same number, if you had him blocked, or if you would even bother to read his message if you saw who it was from.

But he knew he had to tell you, because there was no one else in the world who deserved to know more,

No one else in the world who would've ever believed he could do it.

'I peeled an orange today.'

He typed carefully, taking a deep breath before finally pressing 'send'.

And since oranges were good for sharing, he sat beneath that tree with Clementine,

And did just that.

masterlist

AO3

#dbh x reader #c: nines #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #dbh x reader angst #dbh nines x reader angst #dbh angst

[dazais-guardian-angel]

I'm finding it difficult to reconcile the fact that what I've always wanted and envisioned for Nikolai and his relationship with Fyodor based on fanworks and the very very little canon information we've had to go off of so far, will very likely be very different from what we actually get.

While I understand the appeal of Fyodor taking over Nikolai's body via his blood ability, and the inherent, romantic, ironic tragedy of that — for Nikolai, the person who yearned for freedom, to meet an end by having his soul eternally trapped in the body of the person he loved the most, while Fyodor lives on in his body, never truly knowing how much he was adored by him — I would just hate the idea of that happening now? It just feels far, far too soon for Nikolai to be dead, for his character to no longer have a role or a purpose; his mind and behavior is so utterly fascinating in all its bizarre contradictions, there's so much more to explore and discover with him, he's one of BSD's most complex characters, or at least he's set up to be, and I really hope Asagiri wouldn't throw him away this soon without doing anything more with him.

I never really thought that Nikolai would be the one to end Fyodor for good, way down the line (that can only ever be Dazai's job, to me, since he's his foil), but I always imagined he'd at least have some kind of role in attempting to kill him, since that's his ultimate wish. I imagined that it would be ugly, frenzied, unhinged, desperate, Nikolai finally being forced to acknowledge the horrible truth that's always been buried within his subconscious but he's never wanted to accept: that going against all human reason and killing someone he cares so deeply for will not, in fact, simply make those feelings go away, and will instead make them unable to ignore in his despair. The realization that he'll always be chained to human emotions, to love, no matter how much he thinks he can be free of them. And then, the ensuing breakdown from that. Yes, it's extremely fanficky lmao, but that kind of drama makes sense to me for him and them. It's interesting.

There was also the angst angle of Fyodor being immortal, and Nikolai's agenda perhaps stemming from wanting to save him from that, and being able to finally free him from it in the same way he himself wants to be freed. Killing being the ultimate expression of love, not too dissimilar to Mushitarou killing Yokomizo, both putting on an act of being hateful/vengeful/hostile towards the other in order to cope with the fact that deep down they can't bear the thought of them being gone.

But then we got Fyodor's "death" here, and Nikolai's reaction to it was so unbelievably underwhelming and calm that it made me question everything I thought I knew about Asagiri's writing skills him, and what the story is going for with him. And combined with this revelation now that Fyodor is (unsurprisingly!) immortal, but specifically in the way that he can be killed but supposedly resurrects endlessly (which I really like in of itself, don't get me wrong)... it makes me question what exactly Nikolai knows, or will know, and it somewhat destroys the potential angst we could get with them in the end, or at least drastically changes it.

If Nikolai already knows Fyodor can't be killed, that means we'll never get a moment where he tries to kill him and then has to face the fact that he did the deed and it didn't make him feel freed, and he instantly regrets it. It also means we'd never get a moment where he tries to kill him and then discovers he can't truly die, and the ensuing insanity that would occur from that. It also makes me even question the legitimacy of his reaction to Fyodor's "death" here... was it so damn apathetic and lukewarm because he already knows it wasn't permanent? I mean, I'd like an explanation for it feeling so ooc, it would make me feel better about that, but I can't deny that it would be disappointing to have yet another part of this arc that was just an act and not genuine feelings....

Now, that isn't to say that it's impossible to do anything interesting with Nikolai already knowing the truth. He could be wishing to try to attain free will through the illogical pursuit of an impossible task: in this case, killing Fyodor. There's a beautiful, tragic paradox in him wishing to attempt something to gain his freedom that he and we know is impossible, especially if subconsciously he takes solace in the fact that he'd be able to kill Fyodor without actually losing him for good. If Nikolai doesn't already know, assuming he's not dead he's likely going to find out the truth soon when he next sees Fyodor alive and kicking — I can't imagine a way he wouldn't find out. In that case, we wouldn't get the aforementioned scenario where he tries to kill him and discovers it's futile, which is the most juicy to me I won't lie, but I am still fascinated by the idea of how Nikolai will respond just seeing him suddenly alive again and having to process this after having just mourned him. It's interesting to imagine how he might respond to and treat Fyodor after at last knowing how it truly felt to lose him, and realizing how much he didn't want that, and then suddenly having him back. It might cause him to finally understand that his desire for freedom is unobtainable, and cause him to spiral, and fundamentally change their relationship going forward. An eventual tragic end for him such as Fyodor taking over his body would not feel out of place to me in that case, perhaps, but still not until we've had more time to see Nikolai reflect and see his possible change in perspectives.

I don't know, I'm just rambling at this point lmao. I know very well that so much of my expectations and desires for Nikolai and Fyolai are built up from fan content over the years just because there's been nothing else to work with, and that it's unfair to judge what Asagiri decides to do with him/them based on preconceived notions. Whatever he does could still be interesting in the end, even if it's not what I initially wanted or expected, and being open to being surprised is always a good thing. At the end of the day we still know barely anything about Nikolai, so it's not completely fair for me to judge something as ooc for a character we still know so little about.

But... it's because we know so little about him and have gotten so little of him, that at the very least, I'm gonna be really upset if he does die here from being possessed by Fyodor like people are worrying about. I really don't think he will, because I'm pretty confident the helicopter pilot is the one Fyodor swapped with/resurrected in the body of as per soup's theory, and again I'm not saying it wouldn't be fitting eventually... but I really don't want it to happen now. :/ I just think Nikolai still has so much potential as a character and so much more we need to see of him before his likely inevitable and tragic demise (however it happens), so whatever Asagiri decides to do with him I just really, really hope we don't lose him so prematurely; it would honestly be such a tremendous waste imo.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd 114 #is this meta? i don't know #more like just incoherent rambling lmao #i just don't want Nikolai to die man....... I really don't #i get that people are hyped up on the juicy tragedy of it all but plssssssss it's too soon for him to go #we need so much more of the enigmatic clown...... he's too interesting to lose just yet!!! #i'm sad at probably losing the outcomes i always hoped for him and fyolai but right now i just want More Of Him #he can't die so soon when he's barely even had pagetime #it COULD be fascinating to see Fyodor's reaction to taking over his body but....... i don't think he'd /have/ any right now #they need more time together before one of them dies #i always thought/hoped Fyodor would die first and Nikolai would be left alone to angst lmao but ugh........ #now it's really feeling like it'll be the opposite #which again doesn't HAVE to be a bad thing depending on how Asagiri executes it........ I just think this is way too soon for it to happen #i'm gonna be so mad if Nikolai just dies offscreen without us ever hearing from him again because Fyodor possessed his body #poetically cruel and tragic? yes. but also so anticlimactic at this moment in time #never getting to hear from him again......... #ugh i blame all the Fyolai fan creators; they've raised the bar too high 😭😭😭 #idk maybe i'm just talking out of my ass though. i probably am. i just feel conflicted about all this and need to see where it goes

[one-equaltemper]

join me in my far-too-long note that borders on an essay about chapters 28-30 of be my baby

i'll be honest, writing things like this inherently makes me feel like a terrible writer because i obviously didn't *clearly* get my point across and maybe i need to go back and edit the offending chapters, but for now...a note.

you will notice we're keeping a very casual vibe here because i haven't bothered to capitalize anything. we're just friends, having a chat! i'm definitely not wringing my hands and a little bit frustrated because that would be defensive and i do not want to come across as defensive. so here we go, under the cut, so you can avoid spoilers in case you're not caught up:

there have been lots of thoughts and, i think, a bit of confusion over an aspect of the argument between draco and hermione beginning in chapter 28. to the best of my knowledge this stems not from the argument itself — draco telling hermione that pansy (his second ex-wife whom she knows little about) has contacted him and wants to have a chat — but about what happens after.

hermione is overcome with feelings and her first instinct is to get away. i don't want to say she's a runner, because i don't think she is, but i think she's the type of person to need a little bit of time to herself and to her thoughts to understand and come to terms with information that is particularly inflammatory or worrisome. however, as she makes to move away from draco, he essentially refuses her the privacy.

first, i get it. draco comes off looking extremely controlling in this moment. i knew it would be difficult going in to write the scene, but i felt it was important for reasons i will explain.

second, lets talk about the rules.

in chapter five, draco first asks hermione to text him when she's out and let him know where she is and where she's going. it's just a check in text, but it's one of the first rules that they put into place.

in chapter 12, titled manners, draco asks hermione to hold his hand while they're walking outside. the rest of this chapter delves in draco showing her that maybe she's not actually all that ready to dive headfirst into a dd/lg relationship, but that rule still stands.

three, their relationship type. are they in a 24/7 dd/lg relationship? no. does it extend beyond the bedroom? yes. this is not just a sexual thing for them and some of the rules that they both agree to reflects that.

so, what happened? what was i trying to portray?

essentially that you don't get to pick and choose which rules you want to follow when you're in a relationship like this. hermione knows she's not supposed to wander, she knows she's supposed to hold his hand when they're out or, at the very least, stick close to him. argument or not, draco is still responsible for her.

draco gave her another option; he told her that he could take her back to his flat and she could determine from there whether she'd like to be alone. he simply, at the end of the day, asked her to remember their agreed upon rules. when hermione continued to refuse and he could see she wasn't going to do what he asked, he begrudgingly allowed her to separate herself from him as long as he could see her.

however, it was still against the rules and is part of the reason for the punishment in chapter 30.

if draco comes off as controlling, it's because he is. i'm not trying to hide that. i know, hermione knows it, astoria knows, theo knows it. even draco knows it. he has a deep need to control everything around him.

i know this story is not going to be everyone's cup of tea but my real goal here is to look at the nuances in a relationship like this. it's not always sexy or attractive. sometimes it's beyond complicated and it's just the nature of the dynamic. that's what i was trying to show.

i hope this makes sense and answers some of the questions and concerns from those chapters. i will go back and see what i can do about making these things clearer, but hopefully this note helps.

#be my baby #oneequaltemper #i definitely rambled way too long #it's nothing bad i literally just spilled every thought in my brain into this

[padfootdaredmetoo]

(The Witcher) Could you make one where you find out your pregnant with Geralts baby and he is in disbelief because he cant have kids you know, but you obviously only have seggs with him. Then you get all sad because he is just silent and you start freaking out. ?? i know its long and you dont have to do it but it was a thought.

First ever Witcher request! This is so exciting!!!! hope you all enjoy it!!!!! I'm only 3/4th through the first book so please understand that I don't know too much yet. Other than the TV show - which I could rant about forever.

Rated PG: Family feels, pregnancy, mothering, panic & anxiety, happy ending!

He lay there looking down at her stomach while she slept. Disbelief washed over him as he grew sure that it was indeed a soft heart beat separate from your own. Ciri was asleep a small ways away, but her heart beat was clearly her own. 

A baby. But how? He thought closely over the past month or so. You were by his side the entire time, except for when you stayed at camp as he slaughtered monsters. Never were you left at a Tavern alone, certainly not out of sight long enough to conceive a baby…. Even then if his eyes weren’t on her Ciri was next to her. She never appeared to be assaulted or upset, surely Ciri would have said something. He closed his eyes for a moment chasing those thoughts far from his mind. He would only wake you up if he moved or tensed, you needed your rest more than ever. 

Looking over her peaceful face, it only became more obvious. She looked different, a tinge to her skin that seemed unmistakable now. He’d known she’d seemed different, but this was not on his list of possibilities. 

A sense of panic started to creep up the back of his neck. She can’t be sleeping on the ground like this, out in the open. He didn't want her to tag along initially. But he needed the help with Ciri, and she’d been too attached to you, leaving you behind would have only caused her further suffering. Everything had changed now. The both of you had someone else to think of, growing in her belly. He would do everything he could to get her to Kaer Morhen. If the baby was his or not, looking down at you sleeping, the anxiety to keep you out of trouble overpowered everything else. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Geralt was getty bossy again. Pushing you greater distances, somehow there was a sudden void of monsters to slay leaving him grumpier than ever. He was pensive, deep in thought, and very… bossy. 

It was mostly little things, insisting that you travel on Roach, except for the occasional meadow in which you could stretch your legs. He’d spend forty minutes trying to assess the land and area for an optimal sleeping spot. Instead of giving you some privacy with bathing, he wouldn't let you near water if he wasn't next to you. His gaze on your body was always welcome, but you couldn't understand the look in his eyes. A look that was becoming more and more worrisome. 

Ciri had spoken to him, wanting to test the new rules he was making up as she always did. Unexpectedly she seemed to agree with him, taking more time to help you out. She seemed burdened by something, and you watched as she felt the need to fuss over you. You felt tired enough to allow it, which made you worry. Did you look as unwell as you felt? 

In three days of travel you had covered a distance that normally would have taken a week. Leaving you with two more sleeps till Kaer Morhen. 

You felt nauseous, head woozy at times. There was a nervousness that was creeping up on you stemming from his weird behavior. Perhaps he’d changed his mind? Meeting his father figure and the rest of his brothers, maybe it was too big a step. Very few non-witchers had been there, maybe you weren't meant to be one of them. He had to think about what was best for Ciri, had you done something wrong? 

The day progressed and you were left to swim in your own thoughts, most of them about being rejected and left on the doorstep. Eventually you stumbled on to the way your body felt. Sore breasts, nausea, and no matter how much water you drank an awful metallic taste in your mouth. You knew what this would normally mean, you’d missed two periods but pushed it out of your mind as it was impossible for Geralt to… Oh. But what if it wasn't. 

Or what if it was impossible and you got pregnant without knowing? You’d not been drugged out at any point. No loss of memory. The only time Geralt's eyes weren't on the two of you was when he was killing stuff in the woods, even then Ciri would stay close to your side ready  - what about that sketchy bath water at that one traven - could that be it? 

What if it was his, but he wouldn't believe you - then he threw you out. What if he did believe you but then the rest of the Witchers didn't and then he threw you out leaving you to brave the cold winter road alone. What if he thought you were a bad mother to Ciri? What if everyone thought you were a bad mother? What if everyone was fine but Ciri resented you? 

Gods, you did not have enough money. Not to mention leaving Ciri would cause you tremendous pain, you doubted you’d survive the winter. Then you thought of what was to come, how you would most likely be at it alone, your stomach twisted painfully and your vision swayed.

“Ger-” You whispered before everything went black. Thankfully he has that ridiculous hearing, he caught you holding you tightly. Once he had you settled on a fallen tree, you watched as he scanned the forest. Ciri did the same hand on the hilt of her sword. 

 The thought of losing them caused your eyes to prickle, you closed your eyes tightly and he steadied you. You rested your forehead against his shoulder. You thought about the humiliation of being sent out of the fortress and decided you’d much rather skip doing the mountain path all together, rather than twice. 

“Ciri, give us a moment” She nodded at your words, and you immediately wanted to put on a better face to cure some of the worry weighing on her. She went to take Roach to a stream nearby. Geralt had his eyes on her, so you took a deep breath. 

“I’m pregnant.” The words flew out of your mouth on a breath of courage. You kept your eyes shut tightly. “It might be something else - I don't know how- I feel - but all I know for sure is something’s off.” You rambled quietly, still too afraid to move.

His grip tightened on you slightly and you both sat there listening to the forest sounds, the soft murmur of Ciri’s voice as she talked to Roach. 

He was quiet, very quiet. The nerves were becoming unbearable and tears started to roll down your cheeks. You huffed out a deep breath trying to calm down but it only gave away how broken up you were. 

He cradled your face, causing you to finally meet those amber eyes. 

“Just breathe, what hurts?” His concern wrapped around you like a warm blanket. His hand rested gently on your stomach. 

“I can’t -” You couldn't finish your words, your chest was heaving. 

“You can. Just breathe.” He responded calmly. Eventually you managed to calm down, his hands and gaze never leaving you. 

“I don't know what to do? I don't know how this -? But when I finally had the thought - I just know - that it’s - I know that it's true.” 

“It’s true.” He confirmed with an unreadable facial expression. “I could hear the heartbeat - hence the rush to get back to Kaer Morhen.” 

“You knew and didn't say anything!?” You swatted his shoulder without thinking. 

“I wanted to get you somewhere safe, so you wouldn't worry.” Finally some emotion in his tone. Empathy radiated off of him, and it made you want to cry again. “I think that glowing hot spring may have been a fertility pool. I can’t think of any other possibility.” 

That would explain it well enough. Panic surged through you again and you gripped the leather of his armor the best you could. 

“But it’s yours right?” An edge of panic was back in your voice. 

“Heart beat is slightly off, so I'd assume so.” He said with a faint smile on his face, that quickly disappeared. “If you're well enough I want to keep  moving.” 

“You're still taking me there?” 

“Of course. It’s not the most comfortable, however it is the safest place. Vesemir will know what to do.” He paused for a moment. “ I don’t have anywhere else to take you. I’ll send word for Triss and Yen when we arrive. If it's too unbearable they can help take you elsewhere if you prefer.” 

You thought about his words. He wanted you there. He wanted you. He thought his family would want you too. You burst into tears, shouting when he tried to pull away. 

“It’s not as bad as the legends make it out to be” He tried to comfort you.

“No- It’s - Gods.” You took a deep breath. “I thought you’d be embarrassed or ashamed. Wouldn’t want to take me.” 

“No.” He answered simply. 

“I don't care where I am as long as I’m next to you.” You hugged him as tightly as you could. “Plus the only bad thing I’ve heard about is the rats?” 

He let out a hum. 

______________________________

It was a fertility pool. Something Yen was beyond happy to learn about. Her and Triss came to help you with the pregnancy as it was very unusual. 

Kaer Mohen was worse than the legends, but also far far better at the same time. Lots of rats, two supernatural incidents, and it was very very cold. After the first few weeks, the girls arrived bringing a great deal of goods Geralt had requested.

They made a room for you that was beyond beautiful and warm. The first night you slept in it you realized the extent they went through to make it comfortable was due to the fact that this would be your room for much longer than a winter. 

Nine months flew by as you were surrounded by your new family. You insisted on cooking as you couldn’t train with Ciri and sitting around was unbearable. 

You still couldn’t believe how lucky you were. Everyone here had dropped everything to help you, Ciri was over the moon initially. Assuring you and Geralt that she’ll help and is good with babies. It didn't take a mind reader to know that she was trying to put on a brave face, scared that maybe she’d be replaced. 

She’d rest her head on your lap after supper telling the large bump all sorts of things. You were always amazed at how young she was and yet she knew so much more than you did about things. She’d go on about all the history and lesson’s she’d learnt as a child. You’d let her lay there, running her hands through her hair hoping it would reassure her, she’d never spoken this much in the time that you’d been with her. 

“If I tell her everything now, when she’s out in the world it will come easier to her. That’s what my grandma did for me when I was in my mum” She finally said one night when Eskel asked her why she was telling you all this stuff. 

“Ah, and it's a girl then, eh?” Vesamir asked.

“Of course! It’s going to be exhausting being the only girl witcher.” He let out a hearty laugh and she stuck her tongue out at him. 

You wanted to laugh but the thought of having your baby out there, both your babies out there fighting like he did - you looked to Geralt to find your feelings in his face. 

“She’ll be in great hands.” Eskel said and you were happy to hear her go back to talking about the different types of desert plants and how they impact a significant portion of some forgein economy. 

_____

You were prepping the stew for dinner when your water broke. Eight long hours later you had brought a baby into the world. 

She suckled on to your breast, looking like an old man covered in tomato sauce and yet she was the most beautiful thing you’d laid eyes on. White peach fuzz and golden amber eyes stared up at you confirming that she was indeed her fathers daughter. Geralt looked an interesting mix of exhausted, terrified, and adoration. 

Once the after birth was sorted Triss had a healing bath made for you. You offered the sleeping bundle to Geralt, but he shook his head. Causing your heart to stop.

“She’s too small.” He whispered. You opened his arm and placed the small bundle there showing him how to hold her. “I’ve never had to hold a baby before.” he said softly, tracing his finger across the top of her tiny forehead. 

“You need to get into the bath.” Triss helped you stand up. “And you need to let Cirilla in here before she chews her arm off.” 

“She’s not slept?!” you exclaimed.

“That's his problem.” She nodded to Geralt before helping you to the door. Ciri was there in the hallway ready to pounce on you.

“Are you alright! Where's the baby!” 

“I’m fine, love. Your baby sister’s in with your father. Go help him till I'm back.” You watched her face light up as she moved past you into the room. 

After the world's nicest bath you moved into the bedroom to see Geralt watching the baby in one arm with Ciri tucked under his other arm. Both asleep.��

“I see you all survived.” You said with a smile, you took the babe from him taking her place under his arm. He watched as you fed her again. 

You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head, you thought of how scared he looked during the whole process. Watched as you fought your own battle, unable to help in any way.

“Thank you.” You said softly as your eyes were getting heavy. He chuckled softly.

“Thank you doesn’t begin to cover the amount of gratitude I feel towards you.” He whispered. You tilted your head back and felt his lips move against yours, sometimes words aren't necessary. 

The love he felt for his family was always evident in everything he did.

Tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt

#the witcher x reader #the witcher #geralt of rivia comfort #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivera #henry cavill fic #princess cirilla #witcher ciri

[willshipanything-blog]

Breaking the Rules- Chapter 1

Guess which nasty little man is back with more games.. ✨🖤✨

I thought I was ready to let go of Al Shaw/The Grabber. I concede defeat, and have planned a whole new fic/sequel!! You don't HAVE to have read 'Rules of the Game', but it's here.

I'll be posting here and over on AO3, where more detailed tags will be, but this is 18+, MINORS DNI!

Might make a chapter index once it's a little longer, but enjoy the start for now! ✨✌

Chapter 1- Free Time

A thin, tapering shaft of sunrise crept through the window, blinding you awake. You turned groggily away from the light, rolling over on the mattress but freezing when your eyes fell on the man beside you in bed. Such a rare sight, finding Al asleep; he was usually the one coaxing you into the land of the living with his warm breath on your neck and his soft touches trailing down your thighs. 

An early summer heatwave had begun to suffuse itself through Denver’s streets, imbuing the air with the fragrant smells of hyssops and goldenrods, but bringing with it a cloying, suffocating atmosphere. You secretly welcomed the heat; it meant that Al slept shirtless, the silky sheets turned down for a more comfortable nights’ rest with you, with his little dove. You continued to watch silently, entranced at his broad, sinewy chest and his stomach, rising and falling in rhythm with his soft, slumbering breaths. There was no guilt about covertly watching him- you knew all too well that Al enjoyed watching you sleep too.

For months after you’d first arrived, you had barely seen such a sight. Initially, he had simply left you alone to cry yourself to sleep, leaving after he’d taken things from you, willingly or otherwise. Back then, you were grateful that the monster abandoned the basement once he’d been satisfied, lingering only momentarily afterwards to leer at your bruised body or to make a threatening or obscene remark before swiftly departing. 

After a while, when the pair of you had grown closer, more trustful, he had begun to stay until you fell asleep in his arms, though you’d wake in the small hours, suddenly alone again in the damp basement. There would be no comforting arm around you to keep away the chill of that prison you’d been caged in. It seemed a betrayal of sorts. Like Al had snuck away in the night. It had felt cheap, and left you confused, your body muddled with a paradoxical feeling of both heaviness and hollowness. 

Things were different now. Now, you woke every morning in Al’s bedroom, in Al’s bed. Even at Al’s insistence that you call those things shared (our bedroom, our bed), it still felt strange to define them in such terms. You wondered if that feeling of being a foreigner in his house, and his bed, would ever fully subside. Perhaps it stemmed from a fear that Al would snap one day, the darkness he was more than capable of would resurrect itself, and you’d be thrown back down into the depths of the basement. That the devil would watch with a grin on his face as you tumbled back into that hell. 

You retreated from this invading thought- even now, you could let your mind wander to such miserable places if you weren’t careful. Al helped bring you back; the low, growling vibrations of his breath, the steady movement of his torso hypnotizing you, anchoring you back to reality. You smiled, ruminating on the unlikely situation in which you’d found yourself. A captive willingly in her captor’s bed. You’d drive yourself crazy trying to rationalize it, if madness hadn’t taken you already. Whether you were brave or cowardly, strong or resilient, all that mattered was how you felt. A heady mixture of bliss and contentment and, yes, even the sheer thrill of danger that charged through your body like electricity when you and Al resumed a certain little game…

You felt so fortunate that things had ended up here. Not that you pictured that things with Al were concluding- far from it in fact. Your life alongside Al had barely even begun to blossom. But before, there had been immeasurable difficulties, interminable conflicts, where a resolution seemed impossible and only dark outcomes were envisioned. But you couldn’t justify calling it a new beginning either. To forget what you’d been through would be a disservice to the things you’d overcome. A false memory. Besides, you could never truly forget the past that both of you shared. You had determined instead to push those thoughts aside in order to achieve your endgame. This felt like your happy ending, right here in this bed beside Al. 

This happy ending had come at a cost, but you believed it was worth the price you had paid. A few days, stretching from the start of the weekend to its end, cemented itself as fundamental to everything you now had with Al. Those days, comprised of both unbridled joy and unmitigated anguish, were crucial. You’d hold each second close to your chest, regardless of whether those seconds had served to scar or heal your heart. 

— — — 

It had been a strange weekend, even by yours and Al’s standards. One of extreme highs and lows. It had started like a dream that Friday night, your birthday filled with innumerable pleasures lavished on you by Al. The idyllic night was the antithesis to the morning after. Al had found that damned knife hidden in the basement, and you had brawled fiercely, the pair of you scrapping like wild animals. You thought that Al had regressed into his dark former self, that the Grabber was enraged enough to kill you. Then, you thought the blade was going to tear through Al’s own heart when he turned the knife on himself, urging you to end things. Miraculously, neither of you were killed, just bruised, bloody and more sorrowful than either of you had ever felt in your lives. Even more miraculously, the consequence of your fight was exoneration. Apologies. Reassurances. Comfort. Absolution. From Al to you, and vice versa. Al didn’t want your apology, had said he deserved nothing from you, but you gave it freely regardless. You’d both done things to hurt the other, you figured. Both of you said that fateful phrase, those three little words. For you, they had been words that had been left unsaid too long, kept inside your chest like a caged bird. Those secrets had spilled, the bird set free as “I love you” finally escaped from your lips. You held each other for a long time in that basement. 

You weren’t sure who finally pulled free from the embrace, but you and Al regarded each other, both covered in blood and tears that had finally dried. You didn’t think there were any more words to pass between you, but Al was always full of surprises. Always a flourish to his trick, another thing he’d magic out of his hat. This time, it was another promise to add to his catalog of commitments: he was never going to make you stay in that cold basement cell again. You believed him wholeheartedly, but were too overwhelmed right then to tangle with the logistics of the idea. Nodding was all you managed before you were being helped off the spongy dampness of the mattress. Al scooped up the small pile of clothes and books from the floor in one arm (clearly, he didn’t want to return here later either), before guiding you to the basement door.

You almost dared not turn back, but a voice inside you urged your body to pivot, taking in the basement one last time. A closure of sorts, you supposed. The dank stone walls and barred window that had been inescapable. The mattress, stained with pains and pleasures of both your bodies. The black phone that never rang; no salvatory dial tone to be heard. Connected to no one and nowhere. Countless agonies suffered here, but moments of bliss too, you remembered. But you had to call a spade a spade. It was a prison, a dark cell for The Grabber’s victims. A term that no longer applied to you. With an acknowledging nod, you climbed the first step outside of the room, and your gaze fell into those deep blue eyes of Al’s. A much better place to be trapped. It would be a mercy to drown in them if it meant you were out of the basement’s depths from now on. 

Thud, click. The sound of the basement door locking shut was one of finality. You’d heard that habitual sound countless times, though never from this side of the metal door. A sealed tomb, with only ghosts inside now. A hand secured itself to yours, gripping tightly. You ascended together. 

It was a quiet few days after that, an atmosphere of trepidation falling over the house. As if any raised voice or sudden movement might disrupt your renewed reconciliation. You tended Al’s wound as best you could, wrapping the chaos of scars on his chest tightly. Al kissed each of your own cuts and bruises individually, a sorrowful apology accompanying each one until he was hoarse. You bathed together, ate together, made gentle love together. There was no Naughty Girl that weekend. Only soft, tender comforts. The scars of your fight were still raw, literally so, but you had the silent thrill that you could initiate the game when you wanted. Or more accurately, knowing you’d ask for those punishments when you needed them. Because it was a need, a compulsion: just like it was for Al. For him to inflict, and for you to receive. No shame in that admittance, and denying you both opportunity to play would be cruel. You had the rest of your lives to play; you could afford a few days of healing. 

The weekend passed all too quickly, no matter how much you and Al both tried to hold it in your grasp. You clutched furiously at each hour, minute, second of the weekend. Not wanting to sleep, not wanting to breathe if it meant the passing of time. Nothing was said, but your shared glances grew more frantic as Monday morning grew near, voiceless displays of worry. You made countless efforts to keep things light; encouraging smiles and squeezes, promises that things were going to be ok. But you could see the disquiet in Al’s cerulean eyes. After all, he had more to lose, so he thought. If he was true to his word and gave you free roam of the house once he was at work, why wouldn’t he think you would run? Even if you had said you loved him, said that in time things would be forgiven, he wouldn’t forgive himself for his transgressions. 

You knew the first morning would be the most difficult. But you also knew: if you got through today, you could prove to Al that you weren’t intent on leaving him. Set his tormented mind at ease. All the subsequent days would easily fall into place. After the first day, the fog of uncertainty would finally lift. Once this final test of loyalty had been proven that would be it. You’d broached every subject, told every secret, gave every ounce of yourself over. And Al had given you the same courtesies, hadn’t he?

A tight embrace woke you, Al’s arms encircling your waist, his head nuzzling into your neck. His hold was both possessive and fearful, like a child clinging onto a favorite toy that they were scared some other kid might snatch away. You returned the embrace and stilled for a while, savoring his warmth, his smell, the feel of his body against yours. But reality called, and Al had work. It felt like if you didn’t make a move, Al would have stayed under the covers all day, so reluctantly you pulled yourself away from him and padded to the bathroom. 

You just hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way, perhaps thinking you were eagerly anticipating his departure. 

You gave an incredulous exhale when you heard the shower door creak open behind you, felt wandering fingers come curling around your waist as Al joined you under the warm spray. 

“The idea is to not be late for work, Al.” You chided, though you weren’t sure how stern you sounded as you mewled at his touch and the soft kisses being placed delicately on your bare shoulder. 

“It’ll save time showering together.” he hummed in between kisses. You didn’t need to face him to know that his trademark sideways smirk was plastered on his face. You weren’t convinced by his suave words; Al had obviously no intention of cleaning just yet. But you’d be equally to blame now as your body arched into his, pressing your back into his solid frame. You braced your arms on the tiled wall, obliging him this morning pleasure. It wasn’t as if you weren’t equally enthusiastic for his touch, his slick manhood inside you and his exploratory hands finding all the right places on your body. He stilled himself after finishing, holding himself inside you, his hot breath ghosting your ear as if wishing to speak something. But it went unsaid. His brash demeanor had all but vanished. He needed reassurance, that’s all it was. You gripped his hands that had been trailing your stomach, turning your head towards him. 

“Al-” teeth clamped down on your neck, stifling your words, but you allowed him to leave his mark, biting like a condemned man enjoying his last meal. Why wasn’t he letting you reassure him of your vow to be his? Did he think he was savoring you in these last few precious moments together? You steeled yourself to remind him, but he spoke first:

“Why don’t you make a start on breakfast, Y/N? How ‘bout some eggs, huh?” 

It killed you to leave him alone in the shower. He’d pushed you away, but you knew he was the one feeling bereft. It seemed he didn’t want to hear any more of your assurances- did they feel like empty promises to him? It irked you a little, but you knew, by the time he came home after work, that he’d been worrying over fictional scenarios that had manifested in his head, but which wouldn’t ever become reality. A small, vicious little thought fluttered in your own mind- if he thought your promises were so easily broken, then maybe he deserved a little mental torment. Let him have these absurd thoughts that you would leave; it would be his own self-flagellation, a punishment he would administer and receive all by himself. 

A quiet breakfast between you and Al. So quiet and tense that the clock on the wall, ticking away, its percussive beat echoing a fresh taunt with each passing second. Inching its way to the hour of departure, moving ever forward- though it felt more like a countdown. You clenched- your stomach, your jaw, your brow- wondering what zero hour would bring. Al’s nervousness was all too apparent. By now, you could read him all too easily. He stood from the table and glanced at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes before dropping his arms awkwardly by his sides. 

“I’ve got to go.” His fingers twitched in his palms. You rose now too, skirting the table to take his hand in yours. Any suave pretenses he’d been acting out had dropped; he was clearly pained at the thought of leaving. Your stomach roiled at the malicious thoughts you’d had in the bathroom. Of course you cared if Al was hurting, and you were sure as shit going to make sure he knew where you stood on the matter. 

“Al,” you began, not quite sure of where your sentence was headed, “Would it be easier for a little while if…” Your nod towards the stairwell door gut-punched even you. Had you just offered yourself to be put back down there? For Al, maybe you were crazy enough to propose such madness. If you’d shocked yourself for offering such a thing, he looked utterly appalled.

“N-no!” he stammered, before cooling his tone, though the tight grip on your hand didn’t relent. “No, dove. Not ever. Like I said, it’s just an empty room now.”

At the door (now free of the bike lock- when had that been removed?), Al picked up his keys from the bowl on the nearby shelf. Fiddling with the bunch, he took a single gold-colored key from the ring. It was yours, he said. For emergencies. Or escapes, you knew that look on his face was suggesting. If you’re gonna go, no need to break a window or force a lock. He pressed it into your hand, but you tossed it back into the bowl with a clang and shrugged nonchalantly, showing your indifference to its presence. For emergencies, you hoped your action suggested right back. 

Al had given you everything but your freedom since you’d first come here. He wasn’t offering you an escape (he would never ask you to go- in his eyes, you belonged to him entirely). But he was aware it was a possibility now, and he clearly saw it as one you weren’t going to pass up. But he wasn’t about to break a newly-forged promise and put you back in the basement. You could see these two notions working at odds in his mind, a tug of war with no clear winner. He was really so ardent in his belief that he was nothing but a monster, a frightening being that anyone sane would run from. He couldn’t seem to realize that freedom was no longer something you desired. Whether monster or man, you weren’t running.  

A bold step forward was the only move you needed before Al lunged, palming the side of your face and smashing his lips into yours. You gripped his shirt lapels and returned the kiss, open-mouthed to accommodate his clawing tongue. His other hand snaked its way around the nape of your neck, pulling you in impossibly closer. It felt like a final farewell. It absolutely wasn’t, but you let Al indulge in the passionate kiss anyway. 

You finally pulled away, flushed and breathless, holding Al at arm’s length as you smoothed down his shirt. It felt like such a wifely act, the thought of this reddening your cheeks further, silently wondering if Al would return later with a remark of “Honey, I’m home!”. It felt like such an ‘Al’ thing to do, one of his little quips that would crease you up. You’d tell him about this amusement later, but, noting the pained look reappearing on his face, you changed tact.

“Al, Do you trust me?”

“I- yes. Y-you know I do, Y/N.”

“Then trust me when I say I’ll see you when you get back.” You spoke in a clear voice, confident and reassuring. You needed to keep your own composure to balance out the uncertainty you still saw in those endless blue eyes. You could see his deep-rooted fear in the depths of those ocean blues, fear that everything up to now might still be too good to be true. That he would come home and you’d be gone. 

Al nodded, but his face was tight-lipped and solemn. He unlocked the door, stepping out and closing it again behind him. Through the glass pane of the door he gave a final, lingering look before pulling himself away. You heard his van door click open and slam shut again. An engine revving to life. And a muffled sound of tires on asphalt, eventually fading until you could hear only the low hum of a now-empty house.

You let out a long exhale. Not a sigh of relief that Al had left, more a frustration at the look of consternation on Al’s face. The next time you’d see him, he’d be so happy, truly understanding the reality that this situation could be permanent. He’d just have to suffer one little day of unknowing agony to realize you were here for keeps. His for keeps. 

Even with your adamant resolve to stay, your curiosity bested you almost immediately, and you plucked the key from the bowl by the door. Just to see. The gold ridges slotted perfectly into the keyhole, and you met no resistance as you turned it. The lock clicked open. With a twist of the metal door handle, the door sprung free on its hinges, just a couple of inches. You gasped at the light morning breeze that infiltrated itself through the gap- not shocked that the key worked, per say- but a shock to the system that you were truly no prisoner anymore. 

You considered all the times you hadn’t been in the basement, when freedom had appeared something you possessed. But just because it didn’t look like a prison cell didn’t mean you weren’t locked up. The bike lock had been firmly bolted shut. Al within earshot, ready to chase you down should you try anything. Now? This was the true definition of freedom, just a step outside the door, the rest of the world open to you at last. 

With that heady thought, you slammed the door closed, the wood rattling in its frame from the force. You had the means of escape now. You had the opportunity to do so. But now, you had no motive- nothing compelling you to leave, and everything compelling you to stay. That’s what Al was now, to you- your everything. Hadn’t you danced together to words along those lines? You twisted the key back, feeling a sense of reassurance as the lock clicked shut. It felt safe, not like you were trapped in a hopeless situation. It was strangely uplifting, that the noise of a locking door had such an association for you now. 

The phrase ‘free time’ had never felt so literal, and you wondered what to do with the expanse of the day. You found that tidying up around the house, with the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac as background music, took up most of the morning. If Al had expected, even demanded, you become some sort of domestic help while he was out, you might have been affronted. The fact that he expected nothing from you regarding household chores meant you were happy to do them. It felt nice too, that you could actually do something useful, as opposed to when you spent your days waiting inertly downstairs. 

Around midday, you made yourself lunch and settled at the breakfast bar, but without Al to talk to, your attention kept involuntarily turning towards the basement door. As if a ghostly hand had gripped your chin and maneuvered you to face towards those depths you were no longer confined in. As if whatever was down there missed your presence- but you certainly didn’t miss it. The specter’s presence lingered, your body shivering at the thought of ever going back down there. But you weren’t going down there, and your focus returned back to the kitchen, turning your head with a self-satisfied hmph that you wouldn’t be trapped in that shadowy place any longer. 

With the rest of the afternoon spent reading in the quiet serenity of the living room, it felt a perfectly pleasant day, though you wondered if you might have to take up some more hobbies to pass the time. As late afternoon drew in, you grew anxious, impatient even. But it wasn’t boredom- you were missing Al, you realized. You’d started on dinner when you heard the unmistakable sound of Al’s van pulling up, and rushed to the door in anticipation of his return. 

He’d just closed the door behind him as you walked into the living room. He froze. You smirked at the sight of him. Al looked equal parts happy, relieved and obviously a little sheepish. That look of guilt on his face soon dissipated when he saw how amused you were, that you’d proven all his fears were very much unfounded. He grew his own smirk then, mirroring yours, his mouth tilting sideways at the realization; what he thought might never happen in his wildest dreams was manifesting itself as reality. 

“You’re here.” he said on a breathy laugh.

“I’m here.” you retorted smugly. It took a lot of willpower not to just blurt out ‘I told you so’. 

Maybe Al sensed you were about to voice such an impetuous remark. Maybe it was that hint of brattiness that signified a little game, after you’d been such a good girl for staying put. Or maybe it was the simple fact that he’d missed you. Whichever was the case (you figured a little of each of those reasons), before you had a chance to utter another syllable, he had attacked. He pulled you into a greedy, clawing kiss, his mouth, tongue and hands wanting to explore everywhere at once. You smiled through the kiss, laughing at Al’s eagerness as his mouth probed your jaw and neck, the wild laugh turning to a shriek as Al cupped your butt and hoisted you up. Instinctively, your legs wrapped around his waist and he began the journey to the bedroom. You were already unbuttoning his shirt and peppering his broad shoulders with endearments of your own, gnawing softly at his neck, before he kicked the bedroom door closed behind you both. 

Languorous in bed in your shared, blissful afterglow, you softly stroked the gauze covering Al’s still-fresh wound. Right above his heart, reminding you of his close brush with death, a cruel magic trick where he would have vanished forever. 

“Were you worried today Al?”

“I never doubted you for a second, dove. You’re my perfect girl, my good girl.” You spared him an eye roll at his obvious fib; he didn't want to admit how scared he had truly been at the thought of never seeing you again. His sweet talk, together with his fingertips brushing gentle circles on your bare hip, melted you completely and you allowed a comfortable silence to envelop you both.

You had taken a leap of faith by allowing yourself to fall for Al, to drown in those forbidden feelings. And now, he’d taken that leap too, trusting you to stay. You’d both risked everything, and now there seemed to be nothing left to say, no more skeletons in the closet. There was an underlying tension that Al would fret over what these new boundaries meant, whether true freedom was still something you sought, or something you already had. You weren’t quite sure- the definitions and technicalities were too blurred to define, a murky bog of uncertain rules. But you could write new rules together. You knew the first morning was going to be the hardest. But it had come and gone and you were both still here.

— — —

Those 72 hours (give or take a couple) turned the tides of your relationship. It could have gone so wrong, in so many ways. But you’d found the path that led to a life you wanted, waking up besides Al every morning. You still felt uneasy sometimes, worrying that everything was a dream, or (more accurately), a terrible nightmare. That events that weekend did go south. That you’d wake up, and you’d be in the basement, tormented by a man you no longer recognized as human, the Grabber using his belt to beat you bloody, taking your body by force if you refused to play his sadistic games. Or perhaps, you’d awake to find that your love was a distant memory, just a vision in your mind and a dark bloodstain on the basement floor all that remained of Albert Shaw. Or maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t wake at all, unable to think up any of these ghastly scenes because you’d become just another victim of The Grabber, buried with the Naughty Boys in an unmarked grave in some distant, unknowable location.

“Morning dove.” The soft cadence of Al’s voice coaxed you out of your thoughts and guided your eyes to his face.

“Morning Al.” you yawned, shuffling towards the voice. An arm dug its way behind you and pulled you in close. His body was warm and solid, but you always found his chest comfortable to rest your head on. The comfort and the heat of him made you suddenly tired again, and you barely kept your heavy eyes open as he spoke. 

“Is it time to get up already?” he asked lightly, 

“Nuh-uh….a lil’ longer… with me…” you murmured, letting your drowsy voice trail off as sleep took hold of you.

— — —

Al lay in bed, his dreaming little dove pressed tight against him- thinking about how things had turned out. It was an intoxicating feeling, but it was a dangerous game too- and not one of those dark, salacious games he enjoyed. Like walking a tightrope: straight ahead, a path to the life he wanted; but snapping at his heels were those dark creatures in his soul, where one mis-step meant everything would end in a swift, embracing oblivion. It was hard for Al to relax when these demons invaded his mind, a malignant threat that he suppressed. But he was able to suppress them, ever more easily- because of her, of course. 

She enraptured him completely. Al was spellbound by her delicate features, soft skin and pretty face, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just skin-deep. He adored her compassion, admired her strength. And when she asked for those games, it was of her own volition, her choice to be hurt- never harmed, only hurt- and it was Al obliging her requests now, even if he did take pleasure in the bruises and the screams and the broken skin. To believe his little thing had found peace in the monster’s arms was baffling, but to keep questioning it would be lunacy, a jinx on everything he was determined to cling to. 

If Al thought too long and hard about it, he’d begin to worry about how much of herself his little dove had given, and how much was taken. And, most worryingly perhaps, how much was taken under the guise of being given freely. Al doubted either Y/N or himself would ever truly know the answer to that million dollar question. At first, of course, he had snatched her away, so remorseless in his cruel treatment of her, a captive that he toyed endlessly with. 

Things got better, infinitely so over those transformative weeks, until their shared confessions of love seemed to cement it all in reality. His little love said it was her choice to stay with Al- but he supposed he’d never know how much he may have forced her hand. Of course, his dove would admonish him for that, reassure him in every way that she wants all the things he does. But Al was sane enough to know how trauma might really affect a person, rewiring their brains until they thought their actions were normal, real, justified. He was living proof of that. Maybe now, she was too. 

But, looking at her in the morning glow, she really did look peaceful. His dove had fallen back asleep cradled in his arms, her head resting soundly on his strong chest, a hand unconsciously fingering his web of scars on his left pectoral. He used to watch her sleeping frequently, gazing lecherously as she writhed on the filthy basement mattress. But that was a lifetime ago, and everything was different now. He still liked to watch her dream, the small twitching movements of muscles on her face that he found so endearing to see: a wry smile, a cute furrowed brow, an involuntary moan. But to actually hold her as she slept soundly with him- well that was an incomparably more wonderful feeling than being just an observer. Al planted a soft kiss on her head before drifting back to sleep with his little dove safe in his grasp. 

A final picture reeled through his mind as he floated back into a hazy dreamstate. It was that weekend where everything had changed, where he was so uncertain if his little thing would really stay. His mind skipped over the fretful hours of worry, wondering if he’d return to an empty house, or whether police sirens would ring in his ears at any moment. But neither did his thoughts jump to their lustful reunion in his bed. No, it was just that one moment that played in his head: 

“You’re here.” Al had said, incredulous but overjoyed at the sight of her.

“I’m here.” 

Al’s chest had panged with guilt, that he hadn’t fully believed the promise that she’d be here until he saw her in the flesh. His own misguided doubts were eclipsed by the absolute happiness he felt, happiness he never thought possible for someone like him. Only Y/N, his sweet dove, could make him feel this way.

#the black phone #the black phone fanfic #the grabber #the grabber x you #the grabber x reader #albert shaw #albert shaw x you #albert shaw x reader #minors dni #sequel fic

[icey--stars]

Stories To Be Told: PART 20

Series Index

A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

a/n: at last. AT LAST.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

“It’s beautiful,” Azriel hummed at my side. “It always is.”

I smiled a bit, not breaking my stare with the spirits flying across the sky, some dipping down low enough to hit a few standing unawares. “It is,” I agreed quietly.

“Just like you, you know?” Azriel commented, moving closer to bump his shoulder against mine. “More beautiful, if I really had to compare the two.”

I blushed, taken unaware by the sudden compliment– or was it flirting? I could never tell between the two. “Thank you,” I replied, not really knowing how to reply to that. That damned thread tugged again, harder this time, pulling me closer to Azriel.

“Blushing, are we?” I turned to look at him finally, seeing his eyes fixed solely on me now. I met those hazel eyes, trying my best to not turn away, embarrassed.

“Shut up,” I groaned, kicking him in his ankle. “You would be too.”

“Oh, would you like to test that angel?”

Where had his sudden burst of confidence and flirting come from? It's not like I didn’t like it, but it was odd. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Would you like to dance?” Azriel asked, stepping away to offer out his scarred hand in my direction. “I assure you I won’t step on your feet.”

I scoffed. “You’d better be prepared for me to step on yours purposefully then,” I challenged, placing my palm in his. Swiftly, he swept me away into a dance. Nesta’s dance lessons really did pay off. I wasn’t a stumbling newborn fawn. No, in fact, I was quite graceful when it came to the movements, the curves and the dips. Even the little spin that Azriel had me out to do. 

The shadows followed in suit, twirling. I even saw some of Azriel’s joining them, sometimes twisting around each other as if they were on the dance floor as well.

I spotted Mor and Emerie dancing as well, staring into each other’s eyes. I had a feeling that this little Starfall date might stem into more. And I was fully prepared to tease my sister about it until the end of time. Nesta, however, was an absolute raging lion on the dance floor. Cassian looked like he was barely keeping up, but he did a good job at not seeming that way. Nesta was skilled though, a wildfire in comparison to a flickering flame like me. If she tried to claim to not be the best of the best after tonight, I’d make sure she knew that she was the best.

“Cassian looks like he’s barely following along,” Azriel snorted, drawing my attention back to him.

I chuckled. “Yeah, he does. Nesta’s giving him a run for his life.”

I saw Rhys and Feyre also dancing out to the corner of my eye, the High Lord and High Lady. Ever so regal. I could tell Rhysand had more skill, but Feyre was definitely not far behind. I even spotted little Nyx dancing with Gwyn, and though he was still quite short, Gwyn was smiling warmly and giving him small pointers. Others danced together as well, all around us. And below, in the city. A true night of celebration. Dancing with lovers, twirling with the music, and drinking wine freely.

“You’re quite good at dancing,” Azriel hummed, leading us swiftly through a series of turns.

I smiled. “I have to say the same thing about you, Az,” I replied.

I saw him grin at something. “You called me Az,” he said, seeing my confusion.

I’d been calling him Az in my head for a while now, seeing as his friends used the nickname so often, but I’d never once called him that aloud. “I did,” I responded.

“I like it,” he hummed. “Now tell me what you were thinking staring at those spirits. Your eyes started to water.”

“You noticed?” I asked, remembering that feeling of stinging from my eyes.

“Of course I did angel. Is it something bad?”

“No, I was happy,” I answered, looking down at our feet which were still moving with the music. He threw me out into a spin and then when I returned, I finally explained. “I realized I belong here, at this place. A home, so to speak. With my sisters, with my friends, with you.”

“I’m glad,” he said softly, his palm across my shoulder gently rubbing there across the fabric. “Welcome home Y/N.”

I grinned at those words, feeling overwhelming joy stemming from it. The string tugged again. I recognized another few strands had been added, as it glowed with a golden sort of light, not illuminating the shadows at the other end of it, but brightening it considerably.

“Want to head up to a different balcony?” Azriel asked, pulling me in from the small of my back now. My face went red as I thought of his hands falling lower. Gods, I almost never had these thoughts. Never had time for them. I didn’t even normally blush at that sort of sentence in some smutty book!

I nodded mutely, glancing around at everyone. “Let me get some wine,” I said quickly. To down that damned thought with the warmth of alcohol.

He nodded. “I’ll come along.” His hands dropped, but one caught my hand, his forefinger and thumb squeezing the middle of my palm as he gently pulled me through the dancers and crowd of talking people.

“For the lady,” Azriel said regally as he handed me a glass of wine. I didn’t care what type. I immediately took a long sip, reveling in that heat it sent through me. Azriel picked up his own wine glass, tightening his hand around mine as we walked through the crowd again, heading for a set of stairs that led to a higher balcony, where the people were not currently heading. Our wings made it much easier to punch through the crowd, but also significantly harder, as every time I accidentally brushed against someone, or someone accidentally brushed against the membrane, it sent a wild bolt of adrenaline racing through me.

But Az looked to have noticed, as he opened up his larger wing, circling it around me and blocking some of the touches that came. I smiled into my wine, grateful for his keen eye, even if it noticed when my eyes watered.

Up the stairs and onto the balcony, it was much quieter. The spirits still raced across the sky above. I distantly thought about flying up there with them, and following them to see where they go on their migration.

“Did you miss it? In the Winter Court with Rainne?” Az asked, standing so close to me as I leaned down against the edge of the balcony, glancing over the edge at the steep cliff below.

“Impossibly much. I missed it so much I almost flew here just for the night,” I admitted, smiling up at the stars. “Starfall is the time of the year I feel the most free.”

“Me too,” Azriel admitted, swirling his wine around in the glass. He’d already drinken half of it. I took another long sip, trying to effectively remove the nerves that had overcome me when Azriel had grabbed my hand so tightly, or shielded me with his wing. It didn’t remove the feelings. If anything, the alcohol made them worse. Made them into… affection. For the male beside me. A form of love. More than just a friendship, or a sibling, or any sort of family.

“Have you ever loved someone Y/N?” Azriel asked, surprising me at the sudden question.

I swallowed my wine, letting out a sigh. “If you mean like a lover or something… no. I haven’t. I thought I felt something like that sometimes, but it was a rarity, and usually faded quickly.”

“Have you ever thought about your mate?”

“My mate?” I repeated, looking over at him for confirmation. He smiled, dipping his head to prompt me. I glanced down at the cliff face again, watching as the lights above swirled and raced across the rock. “I did, for a while. I don’t know much about the entire concept though. But the thought of it is nice. I wouldn’t mind meeting them someday.”

Azriel was smiling into his wine glass when I looked back at him, looking up at the spirits. Finally, he leaned down to the side to set the wine glass aside. I set mine on the balcony railing, as the stone was wide enough to balance it.

“If I did something really stupid right now, what would you think?” Azriel asked, turning to face me fully. His hand twitched at his side, as if he was nervous.

I lifted a brow. “Depends on what the stupid thing is. If it's killing someone, probably not, it’s Starfall, if it's jumping off the balcony, by all means.”

“What about kissing the most beautiful thing in the world right now?”

My eyes widened, shock coursing through me as thoughts buzzed through my mind too fast for me to read them properly. A mixture of feelings. He’d said before, when it came to Starfall or me, he’d choose me. And I knew for a fact, that Starfall was by far one of the most beautiful things in the world.

My eyes trailed down his face, catching on his lips for a moment before looking down at the ground. Yes, yes I would very much like to kiss him, I decided.

He was beautiful, he was beautiful. Scars and all. He was kind and caring as well. He knew me, and I knew him. Histories and lifestyles. If he decided to kiss me right here, that affection I felt towards him might very well just grow into more.

“I think there are stupider things right now,” I hummed, staring at our feet. Mine in heels, and his in dress shoes. Our wings that ended around our knees were also in my viewpoint, letting me admire the huge shadows that they cast on the ground.

His hand came to cup my jaw, pulling my head up to look at him in the eyes again. “Can I kiss you angel?”

I nodded, watching as he leaned down and forward, hovering just beyond my own lips, waiting for that final acceptance. I immediately leaned forward to connect us, looping my hand around the back of his neck. This wasn’t my first kiss, but it’d certainly never felt like this.

Lightning was coursing through my blood, just from the soft movements of our lips against each other. That damned thread tugged again. Hard. So much harder than before. And it brightened, brightened so bright that the shadows at the other end were illuminated, and blown away. And what I saw at the other end was Azriel. I leaned into the kiss more, feeling emotions that were not mine– nervousness, adoration and even a bit of lust– came barreling into me through that bond. Not too strong, I doubt I’d feel anything if I walked more than five feet, but it was there. 

When Azriel pulled away, still cupping my jaw with his hand gently, I gasped when that string suddenly pulled completely taunt, as if yanked by something.

“What, what the fuck-” I swore, clutching at my sternum as I stared into Azriel’s hazel eyes.

He smiled, almost sadly. “Angel, do you know what that thread is?”

I shook my head, sincerely hoping he had the answer, since he was at the other end of it.

“Promise to not run away?” He requested.

I scanned his eyes, searching for the truths behind them. The nervousness from the other end of that bond came stronger than before, causing that clutch of anxiety in my own stomach to attack me. “I promise,” I swore, letting my hand at the back of his neck, fall to his shoulder.

“It’s a mate bond,” Az whispered. “You’re my mate.”

I stared at him a few moments longer, silently processing the words. Mates with the Spymaster of the Night Court. Mates with Azriel. Mates with a male who cares. I also felt that pit of anxiety grow tenfold. What would this mean? I could easily fall in love with Azriel, after all, you already had, but what did it mean? To everything else? To everyone else? To him? To me?

“Y/N?” Azriel asked, uncertainty surfacing from the bond. “Are you alright?”

I nodded, swallowing.

“What do you think?”

I hesitated, closing my eyes a moment before reopening them. “I think I need a bit of time to think about things Az, but I’m not rejecting you. I just… need some thinking to be done. I think… I think I’ll accept the bond… but I really need to think about it.”

He nodded, pulling his hand away. I did the same with my hand. My entire array of instincts screamed to get closer and touch him again, if even just holding hands, but I ignored them, pushing the instincts down far beneath the surface. “Take as much time as you need. Do you need more space than you usually have? The same?”

“I think the same,” I hummed, trying not to be swept away into my mind’s wave of overwhelming thoughts just yet.

“Do you care about the flirting, like tonight?”

I chuckled, smiling a little. I saw a grin tug at his face as well. “I think that’s okay.”

He nodded. “You let me know, alright? I understand it's a big thing. Feyre spent almost a week away from Rhysand before choosing the bond. It wouldn’t be unusual to need time for thinking. Do you want to keep it a secret?”

“You can tell your brothers if you want, if you’re alright with me telling my sisters. But maybe keep it on the down low?”

Az nodded in understanding. “Of course. We’ll take everything as slow as you need. You’ve really never courted someone?”

“Never,” I admitted, turning back to the railing and my wine (which I immediately gulped down, unable to comprehend how the hell I was acting so calm in the moment and being able to talk clearly and put forth my opinions and thoughts.) “Anything that any sort of experience comes from is from romance books and a couple random kisses through the years, which never were anything more.”

“If you have questions- feel free to ask them.”

“Thank you,” I hummed, brushing my shoulder against his when he leaned back to look in the same direction as me– the horizon. “Now let’s just enjoy the night.”

“Agreed angel,” Azriel hummed.

↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣

TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@mis-lil-red, @bunnymallowo, @judig92, @biblophilefox82, @azzydaddy, @thegirlintheshadows101, @whatupmydudes01, @feyres-fireheart, @elizarikaallen, @xenlynn, @panzees-bizarre-adventures, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @baebeepeach, @nyctophiliiiiaaa, @brekkershadowsinger, @officiallyunofficialperson, @bookslut420, @margssstuff, @bluephoenix908, @goldentournesol, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @ladylokilaufeyson5,

#azriel #azrielxreader #azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #inner circle #morrigan #emerie #emorie #nesta #cassian #rhysand #feyre #gwyn acotar #mywriting

[hobbitwrangler]

Tell me more about “The last house of the Steward”! 👀

Thank you for picking this one, anything to express more of my House of Steward feels!

The idea for this fic came about because a) I wanted to write about one of Denethor's sisters and b) because Faramir never reacts to his father's death or grieves in the books. So far I've really enjoyed writing it, particularly Faramir and Aunt Caeveneth's conflicting views of who Denethor is and how he should be remembered. I'm also a sucker for emotionally screwed up sibling dynamics. I've written a fair bit of this but I am dreading having to reshuffle it and make it a single coherent piece.

“He was a great man,” said Faramir. Aunt Caeveneth heaved a deep breath, rubbing at her eyes. It did nothing to stem the tears. “You know I haven’t cried in so long,” she gasped. “And now I can’t stop. Don’t hug me, I think I’ll die.” She turned and for a moment Faramir thought she was about to leave, but she only walked about the tomb, her hands on her hips, breathing deeply as the tears trickled down her face. When she finally returned to Faramir’s side, she spoke, her voice somewhat calmer. “I have always hated that term. A great man. He was my little brother. And I watched them crush him, that shadow in the east and those people who so love you. The weight of them … he never had any hope. He was doomed from when he was a child. And all he will be remembered for is what he gave this cursed city. How he was worn away, to the very soul, how it killed him in the end. How he held on just long enough to succumb to despair moments before hope triumphed.” Faramir frowned, although he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. “My father and I disagreed on many things, but the importance of our duty to our people was always paramount.” “Oh, it always is for you lot,” Aunt Caeveneth scoffed. “All of you, throwing your lives away for the good of others. A people who traded us in for a grubby ghost king before your father’s ashes were cold.”

wip title ask game

#thank you for this ask! <3 #asks

[skaruresonic]

Honestly, it feels like a lot of this mandate discourse is just a natural consequence of Sega trying its darn best to organize nearly three decades of confusing, conflicting Sonic media. Like, we know they were comfortable letting Archie kill off Robotnik in the original comic, but still considered Sally popular enough for the franchise to demand her ressurection, even though that was not a character they came up with. It really feels like they had no idea how to control their IP and just went with what stuck to the wall in the 90's and 00's, which culminated with that infamous lawsuit case.

It's good that they now have a specific team that oversees how Sonic the Hedgehog is used and portrayed (which is an industry standard nowadays), but since the fandom is already used to wildly divergent interpretations of the IP, it may take a long while to accept those guidelines (I'm assuming they didn't exist or were not seriously enforced before).

Honestly, it feels like a lot of this mandate discourse is just a natural consequence of Sega trying its darn best to organize nearly three decades of confusing, conflicting Sonic media.

Which is a fool's errand. This is why I'm always stressing the games as the core canon: if you ignore all offshoot media (and I mean all of it) and focus solely on the games, then a lot of confusion automatically clears up. The games are actually fairly solid about explaining themselves and tying up loose ends. It's only when you consider everything canon that things get dicey.

Of course, that's not to say the games handle everything perfectly. I feel Knuckles' character in particular has been rather inconsistent across the years. But even then, it's not like he changes so incredibly drastically that I might as well say he has no character at all. The latter approach, that throwing the baby out with the bathwater, is what we tend to deal with.

When others muck up the canon, it's always SoJ who are to blame. And while I don't agree with Iizuka's current, rather naive approach of unifying everything because I feel like he's trying to ingratiate the series to bad-faith actors, I also can't begrudge him too much. We're marinating in a fan culture desperate to make Sonic anything and everything but itself.

---

It's good that they now have a specific team that oversees how Sonic the Hedgehog is used and portrayed (which is an industry standard nowadays), but since the fandom is already used to wildly divergent interpretations of the IP, it may take a long while to accept those guidelines (I'm assuming they didn't exist or were not seriously enforced before).

Honestly, I feel like a lot of this aversion stems from an allergy to the games on the basis that they're embarrassing. The mainstream has made it painfully uncool to like Sonic games, therefore we have to move as far away from the games' "cringe" as possible. So then you have comic book and film and SatAM fans swearing up and down their offshoot media du jour is so much better and more fleshed-out than the games. Of course they're going to chafe at the notion of making their preferred niche more like something they actually hate. Maybe it's the game purist in me, but I have no idea why anyone would feasibly want to consider everything canon, because the immediate consequence of that is trying to fit square pegs into round holes, which just doesn't sound fun. It sounds like work. In addition, more often than not it's the games universe that gets retooled to fit the offshoot media, not the other way around. The cold hard reality is that the offshoot media would have to change on such a fundamental level to even begin to fit into the games, it might as well be something new entirely. And complete change is a risk many people just aren't willing to take, as Daniel Barnes illustrated with his tweet about Sally.

Not to mention the constant disappointment that would entail: Rally4Sally needs to hang up its hat because it's been three literal decades at this point, not because Sega's dangling her in our faces just out of reach. They already did their job in making Archie revive her. She's had her time in the sun.

My personal attitude towards the matter is that there isn't as much confusion and inconsistency in the games as people say; rather, the problem tends to be a lack of good faith and literacy.

Yes, literacy. There's a lack of critical thought about what happens in Sonic games because many people either paint their own version over it, or else assume nothing of importance happens because Sonic Games Are For Kids(tm).

That may sound harsh, but considering I frequently find myself explaining the most basic plot points screenshot-by-screenshot, I'm inclined to think there's a shortage of understanding somewhere. Most of the games are largely self-contained pieces of work. Some build on previous entries, such as Adventure-Adventure 2 and Battle-Advance 3, but I don't need any given Sonic game to do that in order to enjoy it; I just need it to be a good story on its own merits. The references are just nice cherries on top. It shouldn't be the main dish to the detriment to all other parts of storytelling.

This might also be a side effect of me getting older, but I find I don't really care about the nitty-gritty like I used to. "How come ShTH shows a whole moon in the opening cutscene when it was destroyed in SA2?" Well, aside from later games establishing that Sonic's world has two moons (therefore it's not an inconsistency), it's a detail not worth stressing about when the moon doesn't factor into the game at all. It doesn't play into the game's themes of moral agency. It's not like Shadow goes on a mission to repair the moon or anything.

To be frank, many "inconsistencies" fans point out instead imply a basic failure to understand the fundamentals of storytelling. Gerald's original motives for the Eclipse Cannon are meant to be ambiguous in SA2; we're meant to ponder the question because anxiety about WMD development was rife back in the early aughts. Shadow is not inconsistent, he's always been a little aggressive. Mania's place in the timeline becomes a lot clearer when you recall how, in Generations, Classic Robotnik decided to "dedicate the rest of his life to forgetting" Modern Eggman's failures and therefore rewrote history. Thus Robotnik dug up the Phantom Ruby earlier than he "should" have.

But nowadays, it's like everything that doesn't receive an immediate and concrete answer gets painted as an "inconsistency." CinemaSins style "critique" coupled with anti-games bias makes games discussion a huge headache.

#asks