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#but it's also sure that he likes to remind them that he is also a little shit😂
skzonthebrain · 2 days
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Stray Kids React to Seeing You Scared When Facing a Phobia
"Different scenarios where you have become frightened by a phobia and Stray Kids step in to calm you down in their own individual ways."
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Pairing: bf!Stray Kids x reader
Genre: Stray Kids Reactions | Fluff | Comfort
Word Count: Roughly 200-300 words per member
Y/N: HAPPY 6 YEARS WITH STRAY KIDS!! (It's a day late, but still doesn't change the fact it's been 6 years!) I am so proud of the people the boys have blossomed into, their achievements and the success they continue to grow into. I hope you enjoy this little gift from me to you, and I hope you all have enjoyed your SKZ anniversary! 💕Apologies for being late, I spent over 3 hours looking for gifs last night (I'm picky what can I say) and then woke up this morning wanting to change the topic to be more focused on the emotion of fear.
CONTENT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT
Masterlist | Taglist
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Content Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bits of angst around fears, pet names: baby, jagiya, angel, love, kitten, pretty
Bang Chan: "I'm right here"
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The moment Chan notices your worried eyes darting around the room and the slight shake to your posture, his demeanor would completely soften.
Chan is a natural protector, it's in his DNA. The moment anyone needs him, he has an overwhelming desire to provide the comfort they need. So you can only imagine how seeing you frightened makes him feel.
It's like his body refuses to do anything else, until there is a smile present on your lips once again.
He'd lower himself so you're face to face, blocking out the world from view to remind you that he is here, he is present and nothing could harm you while he's here.
"Hey...It's alright baby, I'm right here, okay?"
He would glue himself to your side - hand in yours - making sure you feel the warmth emitting from him at all times until he knows for certain you're feeling safe enough again.
'You're safe I promise. I'm not going anywhere.'
Even then his eyes remain on you, monitoring for the slightest chance you might need him again.
Lee Know (Minho): "You know what I do when I'm scared..."
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Minho is observant, he sees the early warning signs that a combination of worry and fear are creeping into your eyes.
He will stare at you intently, waiting for the moment you realize he's watching you. He catches your eye, giving you a small smile to try and reassure you it's okay.
But when that isn't enough and you start to panic, he has already taken long strides to be by your side.
'You doing okay kitten?'
He'd draw you into him, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you steady. His goal of making everything okay clear in mind.
"You know...when I get scared, I picture whatever I'm scared of wearing or doing something silly."
He'd let out a chuckle with you as you take in what he has said and imagine exactly what he suggested.
Suddenly you don't feel so scared anymore, but it doesn't mean Minho will stop hovering around you, just incase.
Seo Changbin: "Come here pretty"
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Changbin looks at you with a pout upon noticing your nervous fidgeting, a quiver on your lip as you begin to work yourself up and lose yourself into fearful thoughts.
"Come here pretty."
He would call to you, arms open wide inviting you to find comfort in his arms, and you'd give anything to move to him, but your frozen in place.
Changbin's pout would grow deeper as you turn away from him embarrassed that he is seeing you this way.
His large arms would encircle you from behind, tugging you closer to him as he morphs himself into your shadow. If you were worried about facing your fears, you won't have to worry about facing them alone.
"I've got you, you can do this. I won't let anything harm you."
He'd whisper reassurances in your ear, holding onto you tightly and giving you the strength you needed to face anything that comes your way.
From the position he's in, it also gives him the opportunity to glare at anything that threatens you, because the moment he's finished checking on you to ensure you're feeling safe again, he's hunting down whatever got you this scared.
Hwang Hyunjin: "Talk to me, angel"
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Hyunjin had already sensed you weren't your usual self, hand in yours as he tried to support you.
Feeling your hand shake in his as you began to feel a sense of dread descend on you, he would quickly rush to stand in front of you taking your other hand in his, cradling them gently with his thumbs rubbing comforting circles over your knuckles.
He'd keep you at arms length, the space between you connect by your hands in his as he grounds you to his gaze, the world around you slipping away into slow motion as you focus on him.
"Talk to me, angel."
He'd encourage you, guiding you away from the situation to take a moment to relax before engaging on what was scaring you again.
"If you aren't ready, we don't have to do this. Just know I'm here for you always. You don't have to do this alone."
Hyunjin would never want you to bottle up your feelings or have to face things on your own. Sometimes these things take time and Hyunjin would remain patient until you were ready to face your fears again.
Han Jisung: "I've got your back."
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Jisung can feel the worry rolling off of you in waves and taking a deep breath, he pulls you to the side and holds you steady in front of him with a firm grounding grip to your shoulders.
"Hey baby. Take a few breaths for a second. It's going to be okay, I promise."
He would rub your shoulders, massaging away the fear as a warm soothing smile graces his squishy cheeks.
Jisung watches you intently as you begin to relax in his hold, focusing on your breathing and calming yourself down.
Jisung is no stranger to anxious thoughts, and he knows sometimes it's better to pause and clear your mind before spiraling out of control.
Once he sees you have sufficiently calmed down, he would fall back into his joyful nature to bring the mood back up, providing you strength through humor.
"I've got your back. They've gotta go through me first remember!"
He'd smirk at you playfully, but there is a sincerity to his words and despite his teasing attempts to lighten the mood by flexing his muscles to appear intimidating, you know he meant it. He'd defend you no matter the cost, even if he was scared himself.
Lee Felix: "We have each other."
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Felix lets in and out a few shallow breaths trying to prepare himself for what you're both about to face. He's nervous, and thinking of the worst case scenarios.
When his arm begins to shake, he realizes it's not him who is causing it, but you from beneath it who's knees are begging to buckle.
His priorities would shift, his focus on wanting to make you feel at ease overpowering his own doubts of what's ahead. And knowing that he isn't the only one who is scared provides some comfort to him.
He would use his arm around your shoulders to tuck you safely into his side, allowing you to seek comfort against his heartbeat, as he would take comfort from feeling the warmth of you against him.
"My love, I know it's scary, but we have each other."
His grip would tighten on you as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You worries melting away as you breathe in his scent.
"I'll be with you the whole time, and at any moment just tell me and we can stop."
Attaching one of his brightest reassuring smiles to his words you finally feel at ease, ready to face your fears together.
Kim Seungmin: "Mind if I go first, jagiya?"
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Seungmin doesn't shy away from tough situations, nor is he scared of facing his fears, but he knows how nerve wracking it can be if you give in to your thoughts.
He can see you nervously fidgeting in front of him, an excuse to remove yourself from the situation on your lips ready to spill out, but Seungmin knows that if you don't face your fears now, you won't ever.
Seungmin wraps his arms securely around your waist from behind you, twirling you around until you both have switched places.
"Mind if I go first, jagiya?"
He would give you a thoughtful smile, rubbing your hips soothingly as he judges your reaction.
Your nerves settle a little at the reassurance of Seungmin going first, but when they are still present Seungmin will press a delicate kiss to your forehead.
"Everything is going to be fine. Watch me closely, I'll show you how it's done."
With a flirtatious wink you watch Seungmin tackle your fear with confidence and watching how easy it is for Seungmin, you realize that you can do this too.
Yang Jeongin: "I'm going to be with you the whole time."
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Jeongin hates seeing you like this. Weary eyes and clinging onto his arm tightly as you try to prepare yourself to face your fears.
He's never been known as the go-to person of comfort before, others in his life stepping into that role so he hasn't experience this feeling of being relied on before.
He would scan his brain, trying to think of anything that could help, but his heart seems to lead the way, his hands yearning to soothe you.
He finds his hand gently brushing the back of your head in a comforting manner.
"I'm going to be with you the whole time."
He finds himself falling into the role naturally, pushing a few strands of hair out of your help seeking eyes with his free hand.
"I know you're worried baby, but think of how proud of yourself you will be once you conquer this. I'm proud of you for even coming this far."
He'd give you a fox like grin of encouragement, pressing a few kisses into your cheek, his love evident for you in his eyes.
Allowing you to take a few deep breathes, he interlocks your hand with his, reminding you that in times you can't guide him through life, he will step up to guide you in return.
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© skzonthebrain 2022 - 2024
'Which members' reaction is the reaction you would want when facing your phobia?'
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celestialwhoree · 22 hours
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Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! đŸŽ€đŸ©°
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John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.
They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.
Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.
Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.
He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.
Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.
"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.
Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."
Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.
"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.
Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.
The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.
"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.
The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.
"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.
"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.
For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.
"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.
The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.
"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.
"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."
You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.
"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."
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faetreides · 2 days
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summary: rafe cameron x afab maid!reader
cw: titfucking, rimming/ass eating, collaring, power imbalance/dubcon, no real face slapping but reader gets rafe’s rings pressed into their face, gun mentions, rafe talks about wanting to do a line off reader’s tits, throwaway implication that his dad saw you, general rafe-esque warnings 💀, very plotless & possibly ooc (i’m new to the show but i’ve been lurking for a bit), rafe spits on reader, slight dumbification/objectification, hate sex coded but that's more bc i have a love/hate relationship with rafe, he calls reader a bitch once and a also a slut once, use of good girl
block & move on if uncomfortable !!
do not translate, repost, or give ai my work
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This stupid carpet is hell on your knees. Not that there was any time to pull a pillow down under them, you were pulled into the room and shoved down so fast you got dizzy. You’re brought out of your ruminations by a rough palm seizing your face in its grasp and squeezing. 
Rafe huffs, leaning forward to make sure he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened as his fingers tightened. His gaudy rings are going to leave impressions on your cheeks but it’s hard to care about that right now. One second, you’re dusting off the son of your employer’s bedroom, and the next you’re getting a wad of split slung on your face. 
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Your pussy decides to be a traitor and clench in response. 
“Sorry ‘bout that


” Rafe trails off, flicking the spit off your cheek like he was picking at a persistent hangnail. 
The apology is as insincere as it could be but something about the bored inflection in his tone gets you wet. 
“It’s fine.” Your “ice princess facade” as he’s called it  falls apart a tad, an embarrassing heat blooming throughout your face. 
He seems satisfied with his attempt at amateur art and scoops the rest up with two of his fingers. He doesn’t ask you to clean them off, just shoves them in between your plump lips without a word. 
“You’re so fuckin’ messy, being such a shitty maid right now, you know that, babe?” He hums, giving your face one final squeeze. 
You’re not even sure he knows your name, he sure doesn’t act like it. All he does is coo at you condescendingly as you suckle on his fingers, telling you how much better you are at this. Once you’ve done an adequate job of polishing them off, he pulls the digits away and gives you a weak love tap. Rafe’s obviously wanting to wring something else out of you. 
You hate that your first instinct is to say “Yes, sir?” 
You also hate that it’s what actually fucking comes out of your mouth. 
The grin that splits his mouth reminds you of the only time you’ve ever successfully caught a mouse in an old fashioned trap. A vermin that used to disgust you until it stayed and you gave it a name. And then your mom has to turn you away from the sight of Jacque’s tiny body cleaved in two. 
“Get those fucking clothes off, now.” He orders you, palming himself through his khakis. "And toys don't talk back."
You roll your eyes and comply. You ignore Rafe's ramblings about how he wished his dad made you wear one of those skimpy made costumes without underwear, that he way he could stare at your pussy whenever you bent over. The door is wide open, you know you could just make a break for it if you wanted. But you kind of like how the humiliation twists your stomach in a knot. The air in the room gets so much hotter when you focus on the large bulge in front of your face.
As soon as your uniform is lying on the hardwood floor in a rumpled heap, your tits are being squished together. Rafe takes several moments to weigh each globe of flesh in his hands.
"Pretty tits, always wondered what they looked like under that stupid uniform. Wanted to make a mess of you so bad but you had to be all fuckin' stuck up and prissy." He hisses, digging his nails into your breasts.
He massages them in circular motions, forcing them to press together like he could cum untouched to the sight of it alone.
You obediently stay silent as you watch Rafe stagger to his feet and wrestle his leather belt out of his pants. His bottom lip is being toyed with to the point that tiny drops of blood are peeking out of the skin. The leather makes a thwack! sound as it passes through the final belt loop and flops around. Rafe continues to eye your tits like a hawk as he wraps the belt around his hand and kneels down to your level.
He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin, "This is going around your neck, okay? I don't have a leash to go with it, but I'll get one for next time."
You open your mouth to speak or maybe to moan at the vision of the expensive leather tensely coiled around your vulnerable neck like a snake about to strike. The warning look he gives you shut you up, but your damp panties made you want to push him further.
"Don't move a muscle."
The belt was warm to the touch, probably because of all the hours Rafe had spent on the golf course or wherever his "business" takes him. You stay perfectly still as he curled it around your neck, having to wrap it around you again due to the length. The metal belt buckle clicked as he fastens it, tugging it firmly to test how tight it was. It definitely feels like a weight baring down on you, but you seem to be able to breathe so he steps back again.
"There we go, pretty bitch just for me."
His pants fall to the ground unceremoniously, revealing the cock you may have had a stray wet dream or two about. Crowned by neatly and clearly obsessively trimmed hair, it looks about 7 inches and thicker than your forearm. His cock has a slight left curve, with a couple prominent veins and an almost reddish-pink colored tip that puffs out at the sides a bit.
Rafe's cockhead catches the drool that embarrassingly leaks out of your mouth, and you kitten lick the slit as you stare up at him through your lashes. You want to smile at the punched-out groan emanating from above you, but he might slap you for getting cocky, it wouldn't be unwelcome.
"You like it, babe? Yeah, I bet you do."
He brings your hands up to your tits and you pick up on what he wants you to do. Anticipating Rafe Cameron's needs is part of your job after all. You scrape the sides of your chipped painted nails against them as you softly cup and squish the globes together, creating a perfect pocket for him.
"Good girl." He chuckles, ruffling your hair like you were his pet.
He savors the wet slide of his cock through the valley of your breasts. You hold them impossibly closer together, ignoring the discomfort by getting lost in the game of peek a boo his tip is playing with you during every thrust. A near constant stream of precum is flowing from the silt and ending up all over the tops of your tits.
Rafe pants as he speeds up his thrusts, his pupils expanding as he takes in the spectacle of you hot dogging him with your tits. For how preppy he likes to act sometimes, he sure does seem to enjoy painting you with his bodily fluids. He weaves his hands down from their deadly hold on your hair to pinch and flick your nipples.
" 'G-gonna cream all over these gorgeous tits, get them messy, then snort some coke off your nipples after.”
It doesn't take as long as a man like him would prefer before he's spilling all over your heaving chest with a sound so inhuman you'd think he was possessed.
You're past caring if he sees you hungrily open your mouth as wide as possible in the hopes of catching some of his cum in your mouth. You grind your sopping wet cunt against the floor when you do, and fuck it tastes better than it has any right to.
A quiet 'shit' rings out and the room spins as you're swiftly flipped on your stomach. Rafe crowds behind you and yanks your hips up. You don't think much of it until you feel warm breath on your ass. You jolt in surprise, and he gives you a light smack on both cheeks before spreading them with his thumb.
"Bet you thought I wanted your pussy, huh? Well, this tiny hole right here looks much cuter, you can't blame me. We'll get you some cute plugs." Followed by a flat tongue licking a stripe over your rim. He gives your hole a strangely soft peck and then teases the tip of his tongue past the entrance.
You squeal, which you'd be mortified by if the sensation of Rafe's tongue filling up your ass didn't feel so good. The way he curls it and jabs it deeper between your cheeks in short busts is running a huge risk of causing you to go insane. It's like he's exploring every nook and cranny, you should be laughing because the man that treats you like a back-alley whore is up to his ears in your ass. His groans and grunts are muffled but they give you the confidence to be louder.
He drags his face away and hangs his tongue over you until a load of saliva drips down onto you. You shiver when it meets your hole. A high-pitched moan comes out when he massages it into the puckered skin with his thumb.
He dots sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down your rim, nipping the flesh as he goes.
"I would say it's gonna be too tight, but sluts like you can take anything, right?"
You're too busy nodding to notice the sound of shoes hitting the floor in their rush to get away, or that the person wearing them softly closes the door behind them.
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leonw4nter · 1 day
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could you do a fic for re4 leon where he and fem!reader are in a relationship (secret bc they can’t let the agency find out) they are on the spain mission together and luis starts flirting with her and its taking everything in leon for for him to not say “thats my girlfriend” or something like that?
sorry if this is specific i just thought of it in the middle of class
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Music For Two People in A Secret Relationship
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RE4R!Leon x F!Agent!Reader
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Leon is a stickler for the rules. Well, he was– he made sure that he followed the rules he was made to obey, even when he didn’t exactly agree with them. One fine training day, you lunged at him with a combat knife, a deadly fire in your eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. He had to move and dodge away from the next offense, even if he wanted to give himself time to admire you. You moved like a panther, your gaze much more penetrating than the blade you held in a reverse saber grip; you embodied one too, light footfalls as you circled him before pouncing with your claws out towards the man in front of you. If giving in to the calling of his heart is a crime then he’d gladly be an outlaw.
Here he is now, dancing around the rules in order to be your boyfriend; twisting, bending, and extending his will to resist the temptation to hold your hand in the walls of the USSTRATCOM headquarters, proudly referring to you as “his” and for him to hear you call him “yours” towards colleagues and higher-ups. He had to settle for the tension-filled stares across the briefing room, the kinds of looks that set off sparks in his chest, and the electric accidental brushes of his finger against yours as he reaches for something.
Although Valdelobos is everything but idyllic, he’s thankful for the opportunity to be with you despite this decrepit village being another reminder of Raccoon City; he wouldn’t want to relive Raccoon City again but it’s less triggering for him because he’s with you 
 and a certain Spanish gentleman with a penchant of flirting with his girlfriend; he didn’t trust the man one bit but what choice did he have? The man held vital information regarding the villagers and Umbrella; a former scientist, Luis claimed. Despite him being a little different from the usual scientists behind BOWs, he seemed to know a lot regarding the cult and the parasite– Las Plagas. Charming and charismatic too, the perfect man all in all. He also served as the brains behind the group, oddly familiar with the puzzle mechanisms that the Los Illuminados employed.
Now, all of you were stuck in this misty baroque ballroom somewhere in Salazar’s palace. As soon as everyone was inside the room, the big wooden doors closed and several locks were heard clicking in place. Silence followed, Ashley huddled in the middle by you, Leon, and Luis’ bodies as you formed a protective circle. The fact that silence followed and not the groans and cultic chanting unsettled everyone, unused to this odd peace. After a few moments of guns being out, Luis’ Red 9 is holstered back into its brown leather confines.
“Do you smell that,” he softly whispers. “The rusty air. This ballroom was an old bastion for the Los Illuminados, held their sacrifices here but albeit more
 morbid. Sacrifices were released like bulls in a bullpen, they all tried to escape while trying not to die on the way– had to escape booby traps and avoid stepping on the wrong tiles. There’s a lot more with the trap system they set up and they’re all elaborate.”
The atmosphere that hung over everyone was heavy and miserable now that Luis had to point out the history behind the room. No one stepped foot away from where they were standing, afraid to trigger something to fly out and impale someone.
“What ballroom is this,” Ashley asks.
“The Birdcage,” Luis responds. “La Jaula de Pájaros.”
“I’ve read somewhere about certain macabre ballrooms being connected to cult hide-outs and traps and usually, the ways to beat those traps is somehow connected to culture like dances and poems,” she begins to explain. “Basically, we might need to dance or make music to make it out alive for this one. Just like
 just like a bird. Wait– this place’s name is ‘birdcage’ so we have to escape like birds by means of making music and moving around like how birds chirp and fly!”
“Make music? How exactly,” you ask.
“Rhythmic tapping might be one of them,” Luis suggests.
You look at the people around you, eyebrows meeting in the middle as their foreheads crease in focus and worry. Leon bent down and observed the ground, calloused fingers grazing over the cracked tiles. With each lengthy swipe of his finger, he noticed that the imprints on the ground had a pattern. He leaned closer to the ground and observed what looked like musical notes; he turned to the ground Ashley stood on and noted the same patterns of notes and symbols used.
“There’s musical notations on the ground, maybe we can use that for the rhythm of our tapping,” Leon informs the group. “Who here can read music–”
“I can,” you interrupt. You bend down, fingers skimming over the etching. After a few seconds of remembering which notes sounded a certain way, you get back up and relay the information you just got. You get everyone’s attention and start humming the tune before softly stomping your boots on the ground, asking everyone else to follow along to make sure that they remember the beat.
“Uh guys,” Ashley speaks up. “We have to start soon.”
She points to the ceiling, several ganados kept in cages dangling overhead. The ceilings may be high from where you all stood, but there was nothing separating your group and them. With a determined yet wary nod, you nod to Luis. He approaches you and bows, to which you respond with. He slowly places his hand on your waist, the other gently holding your gloved hand. You glance at Leon, seeing him do the same with Ashley with the placements of his hand in areas that don't make Ashley feel uncomfortable. You give Leon another nod, signifying the start of the dance. Your pair and Leon’s slowly drift to opposite parts of the room, dancing a fierce tango with rhythmic footfalls. You could dance but not in this way and you were lucky that Luis was there to guide you. In the drop of the beat, he spun you and for a quick moment you saw Leon glance at your direction before turning his gaze back to Ashley and making sure he doesn’t mess up his part and involve Ashley in whatever fuck-up he might make. You wouldn’t admit this to Luis but you wished that it was Leon who was spinning and dipping you, that it was the large hand of Leon’s that was perched on your waist. Maybe you’d like to go dancing with Leon once this shit is all over, maybe invite Luis too but you’ll spend most of the evening slow dancing with Leon when you’ve both had one too many drinks. You knew that Leon felt the same based on the gawking Leon unintentionally does, those types of gawks that once you blink, you’d miss and assume that you were just seeing things differently. As much as Leon admitted that Luis was a gifted dancer to his standards, he wished that he could just swoop in and swing you around, to feel your hand around his neck and for you to gaze up dreamily at you when he dips your body. It doesn’t take long for you to get into the dance, the twirls and spins along with the echo of the taps of shoes helping you get into the feel of dancing even though this dance could very much determine whether or not everyone will make it out of this ballroom.
After a few minutes of dancing, all of you finish the beat and you hear a faint click. The eyes and mouth of a tarnished Tarasca statue moves, its neck opening to reveal an ornate conical capsule. Hastily, you run to the statue and take the capsule and twist it open. An intricate copper key falls out.
“We might be able to get out of this,” Leon points out. Hurriedly, he runs to the doors and inserts the piece of metal to the keyhole.
“Careful, Sancho. This thing is brittle,” Luis reminds him. “All that dancing will be for nothing if the key snaps while it’s inside!”
“I know what I’m doing,” your partner seethes.
The faint sound of the door lock’s mechanisms clicking to unlock causes everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, Leon pushing the doors open to let everyone out before himself. You mouth a small thank you to him, to which he responds with a small smile. He finally gets out and urges everyone to run, since the cages holding the ganados were being lowered. After a few minutes, everyone is now out of the palace. All of you stop by the ruins of an old stone house, sinking to the ground to catch your breath.
“Hah
 D-didn’t know
 hah
 you looked lovely in pink,” Luis points out with a tired yet smug smirk bringing a finger up to motion to the flush in your cheeks. “EtĂ©rea.”
The Spaniard doesn’t miss the way the blond’s gaze slightly darkens, moving to you as he places a hand on your back as you still catch your breath. You look at Leon as he asks if you’re okay, to which you give him a small smile and a thumbs-up. Leon withdraws his hand from your back to radio back to Hunnigan, giving her information on where you just came from and how everyone’s doing. Since you managed to catch your breath, you check on Ashley who’s doing a lot better now. You offer her the remaining water in your flask, to which she gulped down audibly.
“Water never tasted so divine, holy crap,” she exclaimed as she handed you your flask back.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Since you and Leon were unsure of the safety of the area, you decided that it would be best for you to start moving somewhere less dangerous. Ashley was growing tired, grumbling about her feet hurting but she was still soldering on, walking without breaks. Luis’ chatter made the trip less boring, occasionally talking to Ashley and then flirting with you. After seeing Leon’s subtle reaction to him complimenting your flushed cheeks after running, the cheeky side of Luis decided to flirt with you some more to see how far he can push the reserved and stoic man.
“Hey,” Luis begins. “After all this, what do you say to a little Spanish countryside getaway? You and me.”
“Sounds nice,” you say. “But I’ve got a little night out scheduled with someone when I get back.”
“You aren’t exactly saying ‘no’.”
“I’m going to have to confirm this with my boyfriend. You’re a chill man but I still have to let my man know.”
Luis simply chuckles, his steps slowing down so he’ll fall in step with Leon who is busy craning his head here and there, trying to spot any threat before a possible threat spots you. Well, this is only half true. As soon as he heard Luis proposing the future prospect of him showing off the Spanish countryside to you, he forced himself to pay attention to something else other than the fact that you’re smiling and laughing softly at the Spaniard. The agent brushes whatever he heard off, knowing that his girlfriend loves him and only him but the fact that he can’t do much, especially that their relationship isn’t exactly encouraged at their agency and the fact that they’re both at work; he’s relieved that you aren’t returning his flirting. All he can afford to do is to ask if you’re fine by masking it behind the simple concern for a coworker and nothing more. 
“How’re you holding up, Sancho Panza,” Luis whispers to which Leon responds with silence.
“Ah, I think I know why you’re silent,” the chatty man beside him observes. “It’s because
 you like her!”
Leon stops in his tracks and looks at Luis with a slightly baffled expression, head tilted with his eyes slightly squinted before proceeding to walk again, the squelch of his boots against mud resuming again.
“I know just the remedy to this, Leon,” Luis excitedly begins, lowering his voice just before he continues the rest of his sentence. “Y’know, I know a nice bar somewhere in Madrid. Good drinks, good music. I’m sure she’d love it there.”
Leon stays silent again but mentally notes the ‘good drinks, good music’. It would be nice to take her somewhere upbeat.
“But if that’s getting a bit too ahead of our current predicament then you can offer to tend to her wounds, best done in the evening when the night is cold and the fire is the only thing keeping us warm. It’s a sincere tender moment, just imagine it: you, her, and the rustling of trees. She–”
“She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done plenty of that and more so she’d go out with me,” Leon interrupts.
Luis freezes on the spot, eyes the size of golf balls, with his mouth ajar. Leon simply smirks and scoffs at the sight, trudging on. After a few moments, Luis comes rushing back to him. Luis is just staring at him, going off at him in Spanish while he just continues walking and tries to hide a smug grin. Luis wraps up on whatever he was saying, now staring back and forth at you and him before walking a little faster to join you and Ashley several steps ahead. The usual cocky expression makes its way back to Luis’ face, shooting you and Leon a knowing look now before chuckling along. Moments later, Leon decides to speed up walking to be able to catch up with everyone. He hears Ashley and Luis exchanging jokes with you occasionally laughing and butting in with your own. Out of the blue, Leon nonchalantly wraps an arm around your waist, much to Luis and Ashley’s shock.
“Ash, don’t tell HQ about this,” you whisper with a wicked grin before getting on your tiptoes and planting a kiss on Leon's cheek.
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NOTE - Thanks to the lovely anon that requested this, I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I had a lot more fun writing this since I had to think a little more than I usually do when I write (if it makes sense), especially for the ballroom part of the fic. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon soon since I mostly write about RE2 Leon. Also, does anyone know the manga 'Veil' ?? I've recently (yesterday) got into it and now I'm hoping that physical copies are being sold where I live... Aleksander is cute I'll say that (I NEED AN ALEKSANDER IN MY LIFE IM SO ALONE AND SINGLE RIGHT NOW- SINGLE SINCE BIRTH EVEN). Anyways, that's it and thank you soo much for reading my fics!! I <3333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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seeingivy · 2 days
Text
sofia
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting series
previous part linked here
songs mentioned: champagne problems by taylor swift, when emma falls in love by taylor swift, and minor sofia by clairo insinuation (+ the name of the chapter)
“Can I ask for a favor?” Eren asks. 
You look up to find Eren and Armin standing in front of the dining table, both leaning on the backs of the chairs. The first whiff you get is a mix of sweat and deodorant, and you instinctively push your notebook closer to you and nod. 
You hate that Eren and Armin work out together. 
Not really, of course. You’re glad that Armin was able to find some type of segway that felt comfortable enough for him to interact with Eren, that they were slowly building back whatever it was that they lost. 
You just hate that Eren always wears that stupid headband to keep her hair back and insists on wearing a tank top – or no shirt at all –  for the five mile run they do at the end. 
You’re lucky that today is the former and not the latter. 
“Yeah, what’s up?” you ask. 
Eren places the little glass bowl in front of you, before giving Armin a nod, and sliding into the chair across from you. Armin takes his leave with Annie at his side, before giving you a passive wave over the shoulder. 
The first thing you note is that Eren’s fish tattoo is on display. It’s one of the few moments that you get to admire it – the physical reminder of you inked on to his arm – since the makeup team is always covering it up or he’s wearing a jacket. 
And the second is that Eren doesn’t really fit in the chair – because his legs are overstretched and hanging against the sides of the legs – and he nearly falls back when he moves a little too much. 
It’s crazy to think that there was a time that you and Eren would have your feet dangling in the air from how high the chairs used to be. 
You eye the little bowl, before reaching forward for it, and taking it in your hands. There’s only two little requests left, though you swear yesterday that you only had one left – which was Eren’s. 
“I know I technically already have a request in there. But could you please do another one for me?” Eren asks. 
“Sure. Which one is it that you want me to pull? The green slip or the pink one?” 
“Oh, no. It’s a separate request. I need you to write a song about Mikasa for me.” Eren responds. 
“Ah, yeah. Sure.” 
You reach forward into the bowl anyways and pull both of the slips out but Eren’s quick to reach forward and snatch them from your hands, much to your dismay.
“Hey!” 
“I just asked you to write a different song. Why did you take both of these out?” Eren asks. 
“Why are you in such a rush? I already have a song about Mikasa somewhere in one of my books, I just need to find it. I’m more curious about who added a request yesterday because there was only one left last night.” you respond. 
“It’s part of my gift for Mikasa. The wedding is next week, idiot.” 
Shit. You had yet to plan what you were going to give Jean. 
Eren looks back at the little slips, before tucking the green one closer to him and handing you the pink. You take it in your hands and find Sofia’s name scribbled over the top and open the slip. 
“It’s Sofia.” 
You pale when you read the slip. 
write a song with historia about how she said no to ymir’s proposal. (please!!!! if you can!) 
You hand it over to Eren who reads it before setting it down on the table. 
“Just don’t sing it at the end, especially if Ymir is there.” Eren responds. 
“I
do you think I should? From my very limited information, I think Ymir would hate it if Historia wrote another song about her.” you respond.
“That information is very limited because you refuse to talk to Historia. And Ymir won’t talk about it unless you ask, which you won’t.” Eren responds. 
You slouch back into your chair. 
“I’m not refusing to talk to her. I’m just in my nice
.ignorance is bliss bubble. I like Ymir and Sofia but I also like Historia. I don’t want to get all complicated with the feelings if I know everything that happened.” you respond. 
Eren rolls his eyes. 
“You’re already mentally siding with Ymir because you know that Ymir got on her hands and knees and begged Historia to be with her after she said no to the proposal. And because you like Sofia.” Eren responds. 
“Can we go back to when you weren’t calling me out on my shit? What gift are you getting, Mikasa?” you ask. 
Eren smiles, before leaning forward. 
“For the record, I
I sided more with Ymir and Sofia too. Or did originally at least. I feel like you’ll run into the same thing as me, but we can’t really hold it against Historia. She just has different priorities than us and picked differently than we would have, but it doesn’t mean she’s wrong. And I’m making Mikasa an edited video and I want the song in the background to be about her. Preferably written by her best friend.” Eren responds. 
“Do you think Historia will hang Sofia at the stake for requesting this?” you ask.
Eren shrugs. 
“I’m positive that Sofia just requested it because Historia’s been making lots of snide comments to Ymir all week. And saying stuff about Sofia that she eventually finds out about. Everyone’s been telling her about how the songs and stuff have been helping them with their own situation, so she might have just seen it as a segway. Just don’t tell Historia who asked for it and  make it seem like it’s your idea. I don’t think Sofia meant ill will.” Eren responds. 
“No. No, I don’t think she meant anything malicious either. She’s so sweet. And she must feel awkward since we all grew up together and she’s the other woman, or something” you respond. 
“Yeah, she is really sweet. She kind of reminds me of you, sometimes.” Eren adds. 
“As if. She reminds me of you – she literally has the same dimples.” 
Eren scoffs. 
“Lots of people have dimples. I would look like half of the people on the planet by that logic. She actually reminds me of you, when you first got here. She’s just so
” Eren responds. 
“Normal.” you respond. 
Eren sighs. 
“Yeah.” 
 You choose to withhold your comments about how you're not that type of normal anymore. And it sours all together – because that was one of the things that Eren really loved about you when you first started dating. 
Eren gives you a smile before making his move to leave. But he stops before he retreats to his room, his hand is warm on your shoulder as he squeezes. 
“Still the same in all the ways that matter. To me, at least.” Eren mumbles, before walking off. 
You sigh. 
If Sukuna was still here, he’d call you hopeless. And you’d have to agree with him. 
--
You find Historia on set, intently watching Eren and Armin while they’re filming. You take the seat next to her, reaching forward to squeeze her shoulder and catch her attention, as she shuffles to the side and makes space for you. 
“Hi Hisu.” you whisper. 
“Is the Y/N L/N finally gracing me with her presence?” Historia responds. 
You roll your eyes. 
“Shut up.” 
You feel a tiny smack, before you turn around to find Levi glaring at the two of you. And the guilty culprit – the pencil he projectile launched at the two of you. 
“You two shut up.” Levi warns, before walking back to where he was standing at the viewfinder, with Hange. 
You both smile, like you’ve been caught passing notes by a teacher, before looking back down at the script to the scene that they were filming. 
“So what did you think?” Armin asks. 
“About what?” Eren asks. 
“About Y/N?” Armin asks. 
You lean forward, tucking your legs close to your chest, as you watch them. 
“The makeup team did really well with the hair.” Historia whispers. 
“Yeah. It almost looks like he still has the man-bun.” you respond. 
“Which hair was your favorite?” Historia asks. 
You pause. 
“I like the length it’s at right now. But, I kind of liked his short hair, like from before. Sometimes I feel like when his hair is too long it kind of drowns everything else out, like his eyes and stuff.” you respond. 
“Imagine thinking you’re not in love with the guy but talking about him like that.” Historia grumbles, as you reach to shove her in the side. 
“Who said I think that?” you respond. 
You watch as Historia’s eyes widen and you turn back to the two of them. 
“Do you think she’ll be able to forget about you and live happily with someone else? Just like you wanted.” Armin asks. 
Eren shrugs. 
“Well. Who knows?” Eren asks. 
Armin reaches forward and punches Eren in the face. You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from flinching, as you turn to your left to find Reiner and Connie shoving their faces into their own scripts to avoid distracting them with their laughter.
Reiner and Connie never got over laughing at immature stunts. Like punching each other. 
“The hell kind of answer is that? I still haven’t forgiven you! How do you feel about the fact that you ignored Y/N’s feelings?” Armin screams. 
You bite down on your lip. The deja vu feels uncanny. 
“Y/N risked her life and only ever had eyes for you. Did you really think you could say forget about me and it would be just that?” 
Sometimes you wonder if Eren’s a sadist for writing scenes like this into the show. You’re positive Levi must have insinuated the same when he suggested the entire thing to him. 
“At the very least, Y/N should forget about a heartbreaker like you and find happiness. She might find a good guy sooner than you think and hit it off with him.” Armin responds. 
It comes out quietly – Eren’s voice. Almost like a whimper. 
In all honesty, you had almost forgotten he was there for a second, with Armin’s screaming. But when you look over, you find Eren sitting there in the water, with tears streaming out of his eyes. 
“No. No, that would kill me.” Eren responds, his voice breaking. 
You press your hands to your cheeks, letting your fingers block out the periphery as you watch the two of them, and feel your chest compress. It’s almost like you can feel everyone else looking at you – Jean and Mikasa, Historia at your side – and you choose to ignore it for the time being. 
“I don’t want her to find someone else. I want to be her one and only for the rest of my life! And after I die, I want her to pine after me for at least ten years!” Eren responds. 
Armin pauses, lifting his hands to tousle his hair. 
“Oh. I didn’t think you’d say something so
pathetic
” Armin responds. 
Eren sighs, shoving his palms into the sockets of his eyes to still the crying. 
“Don’t tell Y/N any of this. I want her to find happiness. I really do
I don’t want to die. I can’t leave Y/N
or any of you.” 
Armin crouches down, hands heavy on his shoulders, as he pleads. 
It’s enough to make the wave of discomfort bubble up in your throat – because it’s the exact same as last time. And even in the fictional version, Eren won’t heed anyone’s advice. 
“Eren! Let’s keep trying! Let’s find another way!” Armin screams. 
You can’t watch them anymore. You reach for your script, giving Historia a smile, before you retreat to the dressing room and give Levi a wave as you pass. You can tell that he shoots you a concerned look, which you shake off, before you settle into one of the makeup rooms at the back and slam the door behind you. 
“We don’t need you till later.” 
“Yeah, I
just needed a breather from out there. Do you mind?” 
The stylist shakes her head as you shoot her a smile and settle into the chair. You lift the script again, still open on the page that they were just shooting out there, as you pause. 
You focus more carefully this time on the lines. You had read this scene when Eren wrote it – way back when, when he and Armin were still fighting. But Eren had given you the second half – about meeting each other in hell. 
You never read the part that he just said because Eren never wrote it. The only line that he was actually in the script was the first one, about how it would kill him. 
He had improvised the rest. 
It was like a lingering thought that was in the back of your mind at all times. 
Now that your previous excuse, that you needed everything to be settled before you could even think about Eren, was virtually gone. 
You had done the awards show, you had given your performance. And as annoying as it was, Eren was right. The heaviness of letting go was because now you had to move forward, because that chapter of york ife was sealed now. Danny and Sareen, Scott Clarkson and Hyla, Ricky even – they were always just going to be a footnote from here on out. 
Which is why you spent all three days of the break that Levi and Hange gave you thinking about Eren. About what would be the right way to approach him again. And every idea that you came up with seemed horrible, not good enough to bring him back. 
Deep down, you knew that Eren wanted you. That some part of him still loved you, and that if you made the move, he wouldn't reject you. 
The fear was what came after that. What if your relationship wasn’t the same? What if you two had changed too much, that there was just too much baggage that you both came with, that it would eventually drag you down? 
Then you’d really lose Eren forever. It almost felt safer to keep it the way it was now. 
But that came with its own mess. Because Eren wouldn’t wait for you forever and if you had to watch him move on with someone like Sofia, the same way Historia had to watch Ymir, you’re positive that you would handle it worse than her. 
There’s a knock on the door and it’s almost like you’ve summoned her by thinking about her. Because Historia’s peeking into the room, gesturing for you to follow her out. And you oblige, as the two of you quietly march back to the townhouse, arm in arm. 
--
Historia takes you straight to her room. And you note the sign scribbled on the door, how Historia’s crossed Ymir’s name out as you walk in. You both settle into the sheets, Historia throwing the throw blanket over the two of you, as you stare up at the ceiling. 
It’s quiet. And the thoughts are racketing around in your brain like a pinball machine. 
“I’m getting deja vu.” Historia states. 
You laugh. 
“Tell me about it.” you respond. 
“Can I tell you something that won’t help in any shape or form?” Historia responds. 
“Please.” 
“He improvised all of those lines.” Historia responds. 
“I knew that already. I realized it when I went into the stylist’s trailer.” you respond. 
“Well, he kept going after you left. He’s either down horrendous or he really wants to win an award.” Historia responds. 
You smile. 
Eren probably would win an award for this. And if he was lucky, he’d win Actor in a Leading Role – and actually get to celebrate it this time around. 
The thought of getting to win a triple threat again crosses your mind, but falls dead in its tracks. No one’s ever gotten it twice. And it was insinuated enough that it was more of a
lifetime achievement award, so your chance was already out the door. 
“So. You said no when she proposed to you?” you ask. 
She doesn’t respond. You look over to find her staring at the ceiling, her eyes almost blank. You reach for her hands under the blanket, following her lead instead of asking again. 
You can only imagine how agonizing it must be to watch someone as
nonchalant as Ymir beg on her hands and knees. 
“I would have married her.” she whispers. 
You feel your chest tighten, as you pinch your eyes shut. This is exactly what you didn’t want to hear. 
“I-I really would have, I swear. I just wasn’t ready.” Historia repeats. 
The retort is on the tip of your tongue. How were you not ready when you’ve loved Ymir since you were kids? 
But then again, you’ve loved Eren since then you were kids too. And you have yet to muster up enough courage to go for him, when he’s standing right in front of you basically waiting for it. 
“It was really perfect. She had invited everyone to fly out and come watch us, after I was done touring. Levi and Hange were there, Sasha and Jean, even Erwin was there. And they were all watching from afar and
and she
” 
Historia pauses. 
“I
I was already crying when she started by saying my dear, Historia. I could see the little box in her hand and I knew what was coming. And then she
.she dropped to her knees.” Historia starts. 
She shakes her head, almost like she’s trying to rid herself of the mental image. 
“I always had this stupid running joke, ever since we first got together, that Ymir would never humble herself to propose on her knees. That
that was never really her style, to do something like that even though I’ve always wanted someone to propose to me like that. I’m more traditional and
and Ymir really hates that type of shit, so I just figured she wouldn’t do it when the time came.” 
You sigh. 
“I only knew the answer was no when she actually got on her knees and asked me. Because
because if it was me, I
I wouldn’t ever do that for her.” Historia adds. 
“What?” 
“I wouldn’t do that for her. If getting on my knees and proposing wasn’t my style, I wouldn’t get on my knees and propose. But
Ymir would, for me. And I know it’s fucking stupid and not that serious, but I just
” 
Ymir loved Historia, more than Historia loved her.
“I couldn’t say yes in good faith
 because I wouldn’t give something up for her like that. Or
or for anyone, at that time. Even if it was something as trivial as where you stand while you’re proposing.” Historia states. 
You pause. You can tell what she’s trying to get at, though the comparison is hardly fair. 
“Well, your career is hardly trivial to you. But in all honesty, I don’t think you’d lose your career if you were a popstar who was gay.” you note.
Historia sighs. 
“I know you don’t feel the same way. I know that
that a lot of you don’t and that
that I must seem stupid but. But –” 
You hear her sniffle, turning your side to note that there’s tears flowing out of her eyes. 
“I’m not a bad guy for wanting to keep my career the way it is now. I’m not the villain for saying no to her proposal and not wanting people to know that I’m gay. Getting to make music, being in shows like this – it’s what I love. You know that most things like this are
are temporary anyways. I still need something I can fall back on.” she responds. 
You deflate. There was a small part of you that was hoping that she would deny it. That this wasn't really the reason that she said no. You lean closer to her, resting your head against her shoulder. 
“No one thinks you’re the bad guy, Historia. And you’re not the villain for wanting to keep your own life private. We
we just don’t like that you think you can’t be a popstar and be gay at the same time. There’s
.there’s so many people who are successful. Just look at Hange.” 
Historia shakes her head. 
“Hange
doesn’t count to me. I had even tried to talk to them about it, but
it didn’t really apply. They even agreed with me.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“Hange blends in more than I do. Then Ymir and I would. They’re dating Levi and...if you didn’t know, you would think they’re a straight couple. On the outside, when they walk on red carpets together, they still look normal to people. But if Ymir and I
” 
“It would be different. There would be no question.” you respond. 
“You know that Hange gets overlooked for certain opportunities, right? Imagine if it were me. I’m not charismatic like Satoru Gojo and
and maybe I don’t want to have to forge my own path. I get that it’s glamorous to do things like this to some people but
it feels unfair that everyone else gets to do things normally but I have to be some trailblazer just to get to the same place.” 
You don’t know what to say. Because it makes complete sense to you. And she had checked you on what you had been thinking yourself. 
That Historia was insanely talented and that she’d continue to prove herself just as she did before people started doubting her. That when she came out of it at the end, people would love and praise her – for going above and beyond mere expectations that were put on her and staying true to herself. 
But it wasn’t fair. And you know well enough now, there’s nothing glamorous or fulfilling about climbing your way to the top like that. To have people speculate on every portion of your life, especially something so sacred like the ones you hold ear. To expect Historia to do it would be unfair. 
Eren’s words echo through your mind. Just because her priorities aren’t the same as ours doesn’t mean she’s wrong. 
It’s a silent thankfulness you have – that you and Eren are on the same page. You wouldn’t be able to handle it half as well as Ymir if he wasn’t. If he had picked his career over you.  
“Things like love aren’t temporary, though. You could have fallen back on her when things got hard.” you murmur. 
Historia scoffs. 
“You don’t believe that.” Historia seethes in response. 
“I do. There’s
there’s so many examples of it around us.” you respond. 
“I know that everyone’s on a high because Jean and Mikasa are getting married next week. But you weren’t here when they were fighting. I promise you, no part of that was pretty for Jean. She gave him more hurt than he deserved.” 
“But they moved past that! They love each other now.” 
“But not everyone does. Not everyone gets to rock bottom and climbs their way out – and in fact, most people don’t. Jean and Mikasa are the exception, not the rule. If you didn’t think that was true, you and Eren would be going to the wedding as a couple.” 
You sigh. She’s wrong. She’s so wrong – but you can’t throw it in her face. 
“It doesn’t seem like you really believe it either.” you respond. 
Historia shrugs. 
“Two things can be true at one time, Y/N. I can believe in love but know that Ymir and I are hopeless. We have been since she kneeled.” 
You reach for your notebook, which you had discarded on the floor, and for the shitty pen that was left in between the pages and scribble on the first open spot you find. 
sometimes you just don’t know the answer till someone’s on their knees and asks you 
The question bites at you. Historia still loves Ymir. 
“Would you say yes if she asked you now?” you ask. 
“Yeah. I think I would.” 
“Even if she got on her knees?”
“I’d crouch down just to be there with her.” Historia responds. 
The earnestness in the statement makes your heart crush. She was already too late. 
“What do you think about Sofia?” 
Historia rolls her eyes. 
“It’s irritating how likable she is. Like it actually pisses me off.” 
You snort. That sounds familiar. 
“Lacy, oh lacy
” you hum. 
“You’re not funny, bitch.” Historia responds, reaching to shove you in the side. 
You both laugh. 
“I wrote a few songs about her and Sofia. No one knew it was about them, but
but Ymir knew. Sofia knew, but she was too nice to say anything about it. I wrote this song called traitor, because technically, Ymir actually knew Sofia while we were still together. And she got mad because
” 
“Because how is she a traitor if you’re the one who said no
” you finish. 
“Yeah. It
it really hurt, Ymir. And maybe I did that on purpose, just because
I never actually expected her to move on. It felt like a betrayal to me.” Historia adds. 
“I know you’ve been making
comments here and there. To Sofia and Ymir. I know you don’t like her, but
you made your bed, Historia. You have to lay in it now.” you respond. 
She doesn’t respond. 
“I think Ymir and Sofia just want what’s best for you. Sofia is the one who wanted me to write a song with you about it, just
just so you could get some of it off of your chest. We all want you to be happy.” 
Historia pushes up off the bed, hiking her knees to her chest, as she buries her face into the hardness of her knees. You can tell that she’s racking out a sob, her breaths heavy, as you wrap your arms around her, resting your head against hers. 
“Historia–” 
“If Ymir wanted me to be happy, she would have gotten back together with me when I asked yesterday.” Historia mumbles. 
You cringe. 
“Don’t tell me you –” you murmur. 
“We
we were talking about how nice it was to be around each other again at the funeral. And Ymir was saying that
that I’d always be someone who would bring comfort to her, just like I did to her then. I thought she was trying to say that it was always going to be me so I asked. I begged her this time. And she said no.” Historia adds. 
“Historia, I’m so sorry. You–” 
She shakes her head. It’s almost like you’ve hit a brick wall, because instead of talking further, reaches for your notebook and scribbles the words onto the page with you. You can tell that the conversation is over, and that in true Historia fashion, she’s so stubborn she won’t touch it again. 
Wwith your permission, she rips the page out of the spine. The look she spares you over her shoulder before walking out of the room is haunting. 
--
Eren pops his head into your room an hour later. 
“Can you do me a favor?” Eren asks. 
“Can you stop asking me that?” you retort back. 
“My response is contingent on your answer.” Eren
“Yes. I can do you a favor, Eren. What is it?” 
Eren smiles, holding his hand out to you, as he all but yanks you off of your bed. 
“It’s not really a favor. I just wanted you to come into my room. Gabi and Falco are trying their outfits on for the wedding.” Eren responds. 
You smile as you walk straight across into Eren’s room, to find Gabi and Falco sitting eagerly on the couch. There’s four big boxes in his room, freshly delivered from the courier, as you take the seat next to Eren on the bed. 
“Okay. Falco, this is yours. Gabi, you can change in Y/N’s room and Falco take the bathroom. And don’t rip anything or you’re both going to the wedding naked.” Eren instructs. 
You watch as the two of them burst out into a fit of giggles, before they shuffle into their respective rooms with the hangers stretched over their shoulders. You turn to Eren, tapping on your thighs, as you wait for them to come back. 
“Your dress is here, too. If you want to try it on.” Eren offers. 
“Oh! Yeah, maybe I will. Are you going to try yours?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, I might.” Eren responds. 
It’s swelteringly awkward. You have no idea what to say. 
“I
found the song I wrote about Mikasa. Nico and Armin put together a backtrack for me so I’ll send it to you.” 
You watch as Eren’s eyes light up. 
“Thank you so much! I really hope she likes it.” 
“She will. You know how sentimental she is, I-I think she’s really going to love it.” you respond. 
“Speaking of. What are you getting Jean? I am morally obligated to hang you at the stake like it’s the Salem witch trials if it’s something bad.” 
You roll your eyes. 
“I actually need your help with my gift for Jean.” you state. 
Eren dramatically places his hands on his chest. 
“It’s your lucky day, Y/N! I live to serve. Especially when it’s you.” 
“When did you get so theatrical? Are you on something?” you state, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Not only am I extremely helpful, but I’m really generous too. I’ll give you some of my fix.” Eren responds, returning the energy back in full flesh. 
“Not me getting the princess treatment! What did I do to deserve this?” 
Eren shoves you in the side. 
“Shut up. What do you need my help with?” Eren asks. 
“Well
” 
It’s right at that moment that you hear Falco and Gabi’s giggly voices again, as they both run into the room. You immediately press your hands to your cheeks and nearly squeal at how cute they both look – and specifically melt at Falco’s bowtie matching Gabi’s dress. 
Seeing Falco wear suits is less cute than it was when he was a kid. Only because he looks like a full grown person, instead of being a sweet little kid, and it makes your heart hurt at how big he’s getting. 
You know that Falco can tell what you’re thinking and he preemptively complains about it. 
“Y/N. Quit looking at me like that. You’re embarrassing me.” Falco states. 
“Do you remember when you threw up on me in first grade? Don’t talk to me about being  embarrassing.” you scold. 
Eren shakes you off, before gesturing for Falco to walk closer to him. Eren’s readjusting the collar against the coat, tightening the tie, before he gets up and rummages around in his drawers. 
“Okay, Falco. I’m going to let you borrow my cuff-links for the wedding, but you have to promise to take really good care of them, okay? These are really special to me.”  Eren states. 
“Really, Eren? You’re going to let me wear them?” 
Eren reaches forward to lightly mess with Falco’s hair, before he hands him the box. Falco sticks his hand out as Eren secures them on for him, before offering him a smile. Falco’s sheer excitement makes your heart flutter – and melt that Eren so freely offered something of his own – as Falco excitedly shows them to Gabi at his side. 
“You didn’t have to do that.” you whisper. 
Eren shrugs. 
“Of course, I did. It’s Falco.” Eren responds. 
Eren turns back to the two of them, watching the excitement on his face, as they thank him profusely. 
“What’s special about the cuff-links, Eren?” Gabi asks. 
“I wore them at one of my first award shows where I won something for Attack on Titan.” Eren states. 
Gabi curls her nose in disgust. 
“Eren. You hate award shows. You don’t even care about awards!” Gabi complains. 
“You’re right. I don’t. But, it was a pretty memorable one for me. Got my first tattoo, performed with Y/N for the first time.” 
You turn to him, as he gives you a knowing smile, and you shake your head. And he has the nerve to call Mikasa over-sentimental. 
“Wait, Gabi. I have something for you too.” 
Eren watches as you quickly rush to your room, noting that you must really be rummaging through things in your dresser since he can hear you drop things and shout in pain, before you run back with a little blue box in your hands. 
You hold it open for Gabi, as she admires the little earrings. 
“Do you like them?” you ask. 
“I love them, Y/N.” 
“You can wear them at the wedding. Here, I’ll put them on for you.” 
Gabi excitedly pushes her hair back, as you watch Falco with his lovesick eyes as he observes you fixing them. You tuck her hair behind her ears as you admire her dress in full, squeezing her wrists. 
“You look beautiful, Gabi. They’re perfect.”
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I love you so much.” 
You can’t help but frown as she presses herself into your arms, returning her warm embrace in full. You look over at Eren, who wraps his arm around Falco and smiles at you. 
“Gabi! You’re going to be the prettiest girl at the party. You should have at least given Mikasa a fighting chance.” Eren jokes, as you watch Gabi shake her head and blush at the compliment. 
“You’re corny, Eren.” Gabi responds. 
“Do you have a date to the party, Gabi? It would make my night if the prettiest girl at the party walked in with me.” 
Eren’s so sweet. It reminds you of how Levi used to be with Sasha. 
“Sorry, Eren! You snooze, you lose. Falco already asked me.” Gabi responds, linking in her arm with Falco’s. 
Eren clutches his hands to his chest, giving the two of them a dramatic display of hurt, before he puts his hand on Falco’s shoulder. 
“Fair enough. You’re a very worthy opponent, Falco. Make sure you put the cuff links and the earrings back in the box nicely. And again, if you rip your clothes, you are going to the wedding naked.” Eren states. 
It’s an innocent thought that crosses your mind. That Eren would be a really good dad, when it came to it. 
The two of them wrap their arms around you again before they run out of the room again and Eren turns to you, narrowing his eyes. 
“You’re a copycat. You only got the earrings idea from me.” 
“You’re just bitter because she gave me a bigger reaction than Falco gave you.” you bite back. 
Eren shakes his head, as he starts shuffling through the tagged clothes and looking for your dress. 
“Have to ask. What’s so special about the earrings?” Eren states. 
You smile. 
“I wore them to Levi and Hange’s vow renewal.” 
It was the first time you and Eren said that you loved each other.  Eren turns back, giving you a soft smile. 
“You’re a sap.” Eren responds. 
“Takes one to know one.” you respond. 
Eren places the dress at your side. You eye the silver beading through the little zipper, admiring Mikasa’s cursive handwriting on the little label. 
“So what do you need my help with?” Eren asks. 
“Oh. Well.” 
You tap the open spot next to you. 
“When we were going to the awards show, Jean told me something. I had asked him back then if he was delaying his wedding because you and I were fighting. He said that it wasn’t just that, but it was because
he wanted you as his best man and he was having a hard time letting go of that thought when it was how he always imagined his wedding.” 
Eren nods. You figured Jean had told him as much. 
“He said that he’s always imagined his wedding the same way. That Mikasa would have long hair, a short train but a long veil. That you would be the best man and I would be the maid of honor. And that we’d sing a song for them, one that we wrote together for their first dance.” you state. 
Eren smiles. 
“Fuck. Your gift is way better than mine.” 
You laugh. 
“Is not.” 
“You’re giving Jean his dream wedding. I’m giving Mikasa America’s Funniest Home Videos.” 
“She loves that show!” you defend. 
“Alright, alright. I’ll help you write the song.” 
--
Levi attempts to ban Connie from coming to set the day you’re filming the kiss scene. Naturally, Connie decides to sneak in by dressing up as one of the crew members, before he’s dragged out by the ear when Hange catches him. 
You count yourself lucky that Hange and Levi had thought ahead and made sure that the cabin scenes were the last ones that you filmed for the show. Dead last – meaning everyone would have already been gone by the time you and Eren actually prepared to film them. 
It was enough consolation that you’d be alone with Eren in the last few days, before it was all really over. Similar to the way it really started, just the two of you in the townhouse.  
Eren’s sitting high in the makeup chair, lazily reading through the lines of the script, as the artists paint deep red lines into the sides of his cheeks. You give him a halfhearted wave as you take a seat a few feet away, cracking all your knuckles in nervous anticipation as they start powdering your face. 
Levi and Hange walk over, hands on their hips, as they look over to the two of you for weary eyes.
“Are you ready?” Levi asks. 
You give him a nod, Eren shooting two thumbs up to them, as they both squint their eyes. They don’t believe you.  
“Just one kiss. It’s not a big deal – you’re both grown adults. And you’ve done it before! So it’s not awkward. If anything, it’s like a peck. Just a quick one and you’ll be good, Y/N.” Hange adds. 
Eren glares at Hange.
“If it’s not awkward, why are you being weird about it?” Eren deadpans. 
Hange deflates. 
“Right then. Well, legs up in five!” Hange responds, before shuffling off to the other side of the room with Levi. You can hear the two of the murmuring under their breaths, rolling your eyes at how utterly disbelieving the two of them were of you. 
You turn to Eren, the two of you giving each other a shared annoyed look, before you turn back and focus on the scene at hand. You watch as the entire crew tasks themselves with testing the lights, pulling the cameras into view, and scribbling quickly on the clapperboard. 
It’s fairly simple. You just have to stand there and kiss him. No lines, no big confession – just one kiss.  
The cast stages you and Eren – bustling hands fixing the lapels of your clothes, the stray strands of your hair as you and Eren look at each other. 
“Hey.” 
Eren smiles. He seems fairly calm, considering things. You on the other hand, you can’t help but feel that bubbling ball of anxiety pulsating in your stomach. 
“Hi Y/N. How are you today?” 
“I’m good. Good, good. You?” you respond. 
“Great.” Eren responds. 
You shove your hands into your pockets, wiping the accumulating sweat on the inside of the pants, when you feel the little plastic box in your pocket. 
“I have something for you actually.” you add. 
You pull the box of Tic-Tacs out of your pocket, before holding them out in front of Eren. He gives you a hearty laugh, before cupping his hands and holding them out to you and you pour three in his hand, before downing your own. 
“That was very self-preservationist of you. But, I’ll have you know that I didn’t eat anything all day just to avoid this type of issue.” 
You snort. 
“No way.” 
“They had pizza for lunch. God forbid I taste like marinara sauce when you kiss me. I’m not a dog.” Eren responds. 
“I’ll admit. I did eat the pizza, but then I vigorously brushed my teeth for like five minutes.” you respond. 
Eren smiles, placing his hands on his cheeks. 
“All for me? I’m flattered, Y/N.” 
You smile. 
“Okay. So, like
do we need a gameplan? Do I lean towards the right? The left? Do you have a preference? Because I can –” 
You watch as Eren’s eyes go wide, as he looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 
You can tell that he’s trying not to laugh. You glare at him, huffing as you cross your hands over your chest. 
“What?” you seethe. 
“Are you
staging a kiss right now?” 
“Just so we’re on the same page! You know, I don’t want to just lunge at you and catch you off guard.” you respond. 
Eren smiles, before reaching forward and placing one of his hands on your neck. He uses his thumb to rub into the softness of your cheek, before narrowing his eyes at you. You can tell what he’s trying to say. 
Relax. 
“Okay, okay. I’ll just do what feels right. Sorry for being weird.” you respond. 
Eren shrugs. 
“S’not weird. I just think you’re overthinking it. We’ve done it hundreds of times. It’s on your move anyways, so you’re in control.” Eren responds. 
“You guys ready?” 
You and Eren look over at Levi and Hange, their legs crossed in the director’s chair, as you give them a nod. You turn back to Eren, who gives you a mini-salute, as you back up a few steps and shake your hands at your sides. 
“Alright, Y/N, we’re rolling. On your move.” Levi calls. 
It’s like your feet are cemented into the ground. You can feel the unease that had been pooling in your stomach all day wash over you as you become acutely aware of how thick and warm the air is. It’s almost like it’s weighing down on you – hanging heavy on your skin, nearly throwing you off balance. 
You try to shake the feeling off, shutting your eyes before cracking each of the knuckles in your fingers. You can see it out of your peripheral vision, Levi shifting his head to the side to look at Hange, and the embarrassment bubbles in your throat. 
“I’m good. I just need a second, sorry.” 
Levi shakes his head. 
“Take your time. Whatever feels right.” Levi responds, giving you a comforting enough smile. 
It’s just a kiss. You’ve done it hundreds of times. 
The walk towards him, though it’s only two or three steps, is excruciatingly long. The clothes are too starched, too constricting, as you reach forward, and press your hands to Eren’s cheeks. The makeup pressed to his skin comes off on your hand, as you tilt his head up – slotting your lips against his. 
Eren’s quick with it. His lips quickly glide over yours, the familiar taste of the mint you had just offered him lingering, as he lifts his hands too, pulling your face closer to his. 
Eren can feel it – your entire body freezing against his, like the first time he had ever kissed you. The urge to swoop in and fix it, even though you’re the one who was supposed to take the lead is too overwhelming. 
He knows it’ll crush you if you don’t do it right. 
(And maybe Eren’s a little selfish.)
You can feel the blood rushing to your head, as Eren brings his hands up – one hand cupping your cheek and the other one slithering around your back to pull you closer. You nearly gasp into his mouth as he leans forward this time, the softness of his hands making you melt in his hands. 
It’s Eren. Tender, soft, and intoxicating. You don’t want to stop. You return the kiss in full this time, properly leaning forward and giving it back. 
But Eren’s the one who pulls away, resting his head against your forehead, as he lightly squeezes at your neck, where his hands are resting. You’re both panting in tandem, eyes still pinched shut and foreheads pressed together, as you swallow hard and try to catch your breath. 
“Hey guys. Quick note for you.” 
You both flinch at the sound of Hange’s voice in your ears, awkwardly taking a step away from each other, as a different embarrassment washes over you. You avert your eyes from Eren and look at Hange, who shoots you a weird look before focusing back on Eren. 
“Hm? What, Hange?” Eren mumbles. You can see him out of your peripheral vision – lifting his fingers and pressing them to his lips, a slight shake in his hand. 
“Eren, honey. She just decapitated you. Like, cut your head off. You are dead.” Hange clarifies. 
“Right?” Eren hums. 
“So, you can’t use your hands to kiss her. You don’t have hands anymore! And
and that was way too lively for someone who is supposed to be dead. Tone down the excitement a little.” Hange responds before shuffling off, as Eren’s cheeks go bright pink. 
Eren turns back to you, giving you a sheepish smile, as you shake your head. 
There was no need to be embarrassed. Not when you were the one who led wrong and he was trying to fix it. 
Not when you enjoyed that way more than you should have. 
Eren watches as you march back to your spot, shaking your hands at your side, as you fix your hair. Eren turns back to look at Hange and feels the humiliation increase when they mouth something that looks an awful lot like touch starved. 
Eren throws the thought out of his mind as he leans back again, tucking his hands behind his back. The situation is less than ideal, with his eyes closed – because Eren doesn’t really clock that you’re kissing him until you’re actually doing it. 
It’s your sweet hands cradling his face and then the warmth against his lips – before he can feel himself sinking into your embrace.
You can tell that Eren’s more apprehensive this time, as you flutter your eyes shut and lightly bump your nose against his on accident. You pull him up closer to you, scanning his face and smiling, before you lean forward and rub into the skin on his cheek. You can’t help but smile as you lean forward, the anticipation palpable as you press your lips to his. 
Eren can still feel his heart thrumming, at the way you’re so carefully holding him like glass, while making him feel like his body was on fire. He’s caught off guard when he feels your tongue against his, unable to contain his smile. 
You pull back, your lips burning and skin humming, as Eren looks at you, with a soft smile on his face. You give his cheek a little pinch, which he responds to by giving you a wink, before Levi walks over – his hands crossed over his chest. 
Eren groans. 
“What did I do now?” 
“Not you, Eren. Y/N. Well, you too, but she started it. Y/N, you just murdered the love of your life. LIke fully, had to be the one to murder him even though you didn’t want to because you were the only one strong enough to do it.” 
“Right.” 
“Could you not
smile into the kiss? You have no reason to be smiling.”
You cringe. 
“Right! Right, so sorry, Levi. Won’t happen again.” 
“Okay, because. You smile and then he smiles because you did. And again, just for extreme clarification, he is dead. This is supposed to be sad.” 
Levi rolls his eyes, as he shuffles back to the chair. You spare him a glance while Eren isn’t looking and he mouths something that looks an awful lot like the word freak. You shake him off, as you turn back to Eren, giving him a sheepish smile. 
“Sorry.” you offer. 
“Not a problem. I love it when you smile.” Eren responds, running his fingers over his lips again before he drops them. 
You can feel your head spinning. 
“Okay. Last one.” you clarify. 
“Third time’s a charm, princess.” Eren responds. 
You walk back to the spot, before you wait for Levi to give you the cue. And this time, walk forward as slowly as you can and repeat it to yourself. No hands, no smiling, no tongue.  
You reach forward, placing your hands around his neck, and lean forward. You slide your lips over his, circling your fingers into his neck to ground yourself into the touch rather than his intoxicating smell, as you kiss him. It’s overwhelmingly tender this time – the way you linger over him, before you pull back and let go. 
But the second you pull apart, it’s an immediate pang in your chest. It felt too final. 
“That was great guys! That’s the one.” Hange responds, as you look over and give them a smile. 
You awkwardly drop your hands, letting go of Eren, as he offers you a polite smile in response, holding out his hand to give you a high-five. You oblige, slapping your hand into his, though you can’t help but notice that the smile he gave barely reached his eyes. 
--
On your way out, you can feel the steaming that was pooling under your skin fizzle out as you walk out into the cold air, as you start marching on the pavement back to the townhouse. You prepare yourself for the unnecessary barrage of questions, and for how irritating Connie can be, as you push into the foyer. 
When you walk into the main room, it’s unexpectedly quieter than you thought it was going to be, the faint sound of the piano getting louder as you walk closer. And when you push into the room, the quiet warmth that was blooming under your skin is replaced with an ice cold pinch when you catch sight of what’s happening. 
Historia’s playing the piano, for the group of them. 
Mikasa looks up at you immediately, giving you wide eyes, as you press your hands to your temples, and look to your left. Jean and Connie give you the same look, the group of you all sweltering in the awkwardness, as you avert your gaze back to Historia. 
You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt
Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse
Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems
Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems
Eren walks in right behind you, nearly bumping into you, as you press your hand to his forearm and squeeze hard. 
“Wha-” 
“Be quiet!” you whisper. 
Eren gives you a puzzled look, as you watch his eyes scan around the room, and watch the realization register in his face. He looks down at you, giving you an awkward look, as you shake your head. The two of you avert your gaze to the left again, to find Sofia crying with one of her hands pressed to her chest. 
How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through
One for the money, two for the show I never was ready, so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you
"She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head, " they said But you'll find the real thing instead She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred
Watching Ymir is like watching someone get sucker punched in the face in real time. It reminds you of the same reaction that Eren gave you the other day, while you were filming, a visceral physical reaction. You watch as Ymir stumbles back, nearly loses her balance, as the tears start collecting in her eyes. 
And even worse, watch as Sofia tries to reach for her but Ymir pushes her away. 
And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems
Your mom's ring in your pocket Her picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems
You won't remember all my Champagne problems
The second she stops playing, Ymir runs up the stairs – her feet leaving a pounding sound before the door slams shut. And you watch as Sofia takes a deep and heavy breath, before running out the front door. 
--
You find Sofia two hours later, a block and a half away from the townhouse, on a bench. You reach down, picking up her bike off of where it’s toppled on the concrete, and rest it against the edge of the armrest, before taking the seat next to her. 
Sofia doesn’t hesitate to talk – like almost half of the people you know. 
“Is Ymir okay?” she asks. 
You shake your head. 
“Last I know, Eren and Mikasa went to talk to her. I’m sure they talked her down.” you respond. 
Sofia gives you a nod, inhaling shakily, as she hikes her knees to her chest. You can barely see her face – the hood pulled over her head obscuring her face – as she presses her cheeks into her knees. 
“I didn’t think she was going to sing it. I’m really sorry, I –” 
“Did you know that Historia asked Ymir to get back together with her yesterday?” 
You deflate. 
“Yes. She told me right before I went to film with Eren.” you respond. 
Sofia doesn’t respond. It’s chilling – to see someone you’ve only seen smiling for the past week and a half so defeated in one fell swoop. And even more than that, knowing how small it can feel to be competing with things that feel larger than life, in an entire world that you don’t feel like you’re a part of. 
“Ymir said no. I know she really loves you.” you offer. 
“I know she did. She came and told me right after it happened. She walked in all hot and heavy, nearly red in the face, pissed at the audacity Historia had to say that.” Sofia states. 
She pulls her hood back, resting her head against the back of the bench, as she flutters her eyes shut. 
“There’s nothing that
that gets Ymir moving like Historia. Whether she’s mad
or happy
or sad, no one can make Ymir feel as much as Historia does. If Historia and her have a good talk about how they’re always going to be important to each other, she’s on top of the fucking world. If she gets on her hands and knees and begs for her back, it’s enough to send her into a blind rage. And if she sings a song about how she got away
it’s enough to send her sobbing into her room.” 
You swallow hard. 
“I feel like I’m intruding on people who are meant to be. I don’t think I should be here.” she adds, her voice cracking. 
You shake your head.
“Ymir really loves you, I-I can just tell by the way that she looks at you. It would kill her if you left, Sofia.” 
She shrugs. 
“I know I’m never going to be Historia. And I know that first loves and
and sexual awakenings or whatever are sacred to people, but
I can’t sit here when I’m not even a part of the competition. I’m smart enough to know when two people still care about each other more than they should. I feel like I’m committing a fucking crime by keeping them apart.” Sofia responds. 
You bite down into the hardness of your cheek, before leaning your head against her shoulder. She welcomes the touch, leaning her own against yours before you break the silence. 
“I don’t necessarily think you’re wrong. There isn’t anyone that gets Ymir going like Historia. But that doesn’t mean that they’re right for each other. It doesn’t mean that you aren’t Ymir’s perfect match.” you respond. 
You shift. 
“Just because Ymir gets to these big
big emotions with Historia doesn’t make her better than you. In fact, I think that’s the leg that you have up on her. Why you’re the one who is marrying Ymir and not her.” 
“Really?” she whispers. 
“I’m not sure how familiar you are with Jean and Mikasa’s situation but –” 
“I know. Jean slept over at our house once when they were fighting. We ate ice cream together at three in the morning and talked till the sun rose.” 
You smile. 
“Jean told me that there’s lots of different types of love that you have in your life. And I just think that there’s one person
or one situation that deeply cuts into you, so hard that it changes you. I think that’s what Historia is for Ymir. Because to her, it must have been devastating that she would have done anything, that she could have changed herself any type of way, and she still wouldn’t be enough for her. I think that would get anyone moving, being reminded of the deep hurt, the complicated feelings that come with that person.” you respond. 
You feel your phone buzz, as you look at the little screen. 
[eren]: did you find her?  [eren]: ymir wants to see her.  [eren]: really badly. 
You respond back, before turning back to her. You have to turn this around for Ymir. 
“The big feelings aren’t the ones you chase after, Sofia. They fizzle out eventually, when the spark is gone. You pick based on comfort, on consistency. And Historia’s never
been consistent. She could never give Ymir what she wanted like you could. Like you do.” 
Sofia gives you a halfhearted smile. 
“You’re really sweet, Y/N. I really like you.” 
You smile, your chest panging with hurt. 
“I really like you too, Sofia. I hope you know that Historia didn’t do any of that to hurt you. She just
feels first, thinks second. It’s how she’s always been. And it’s not fair to you, but
but I hope you know it’s not personal. Or anything about you.” 
Sofia puts a hand on your shoulder. 
“Thanks.” 
You can tell that she’s ruminating over your words and the two of you sit there quietly, dangling your legs over the side of the bench, as you wait for Ymir. Your stomach rumbles loudly, as you shoot her an apologetic smile. 
“Sorry. I didn’t take my lunch after Eren and I were done filming.” 
Sofia’s eyes light up, through the redness and puffiness. 
“Didn’t you kiss?” 
You groan. You only oblige the conversation because you know she means well. 
“Yes. We kissed.” 
“Was it hot?” Sofia asks. 
You snort. 
“Um
kind of. I accidentally used my tongue the second time.” 
Sofia gasps, excitedly pressing her hands to her chest as she leans forward. 
“The second time? Meaning you did it more than once?” you ask. 
You bury your face in your hands. 
“Three times. He
he got too into it the first time. Then I got too into it the second time. It’s supposed to be a really sad scene but –”  
“But you guys are horny, I get it.” Sofia finishes. 
“We’re not–” 
“Ymir says you guys eye fuck each other. I thought she was being kind of crude, but you really do.” 
You groan. 
“Sofia–” 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You guys are actually really cute and I hope you don’t think we’re all pressuring you. I just think it’s really neat the little things you guys do for each other. Connie was telling me about the mints that you got him before you kissed.” 
“Oh. Yeah. I was just kind of trying to break the ice so he was comfortable and stuff.” 
“No, I totally get what you mean. Okay, like. The first time Ymir and I went on a date, I was so ready to kiss her – I had been thinking about it all week. And before we got into the car, I ate an entire box of Altoids.” 
“An entire box? Doesn’t that get painful after a while?” 
“Listen, she’s like way out of my league. I had to impress her! Plus, it gets rid of that doubt in my head when I lean in and stuff.” 
“You wanted to impress her with minty breath?” 
“Okay, don’t question my methods. She’s my fianceĂ© now. After we kissed and I went home,  Ymir told me that she really enjoyed it. So every time I went to see her, I would eat another box just so that she would enjoy it again.” 
“You know that Ymir hates mints, right?” 
“Is this just common knowledge that everyone knew or something? I literally had no idea. Mikasa told me a month later and I was fucking furious. God, I never bought another pack again.” Sofia complains. 
“You didn’t? I thought you said it got rid of the doubt.” 
“Yeah but, why would I? She doesn’t like them. I got over it.” Sofia states. 
You pause, leaning your head back. You refuse to comment on it, because winning her over was Ymir’s battle. And you surely hoped Ymir would be able to do it, because this was, in fact, her perfect match. 
Who would give up trivial things for her, like kneeling on the ground or chugging mints, just because Ymir asked. Just because it would make her happier. 
“How did Connie know I gave Eren the mints? Hange kicked him out.” you state. 
“Oh. He climbed onto the roof. That kiss was really important to him and Mikasa.” Sofia states. 
You roll your eyes. 
“Of course it was.” 
You scoff, before shaking your head. It’s enough to make her laugh through her tears. And surely enough, Ymir and Eren appear after twenty minutes – out of breath and panting. You take the cue and jump off the bench, reaching for Eren’s outstretched hand, as the two of you quietly walk back to the townhouse and leave them to it. 
“They’ll be fine.” Eren murmurs, trying to pull you into walking the other way. He’s trying to reassure you. 
You look up at him and smile. 
“Yeah, I’m sure they will be.”
--
Jean and Mikasa don’t do bachelor or bachelorette parties. Early on, Eren had clocked that something like that, a party celebrating them get married without the other present, wasn’t something that wouldn’t even be remotely fun to them. 
But you still had to do something. Which is why Eren settled for throwing the two of them a laid back party after filming at the end of the week, with enough alcohol for them to get drunk to their hearts desire. 
“Sometimes I have genuine concern for how their livers are still functioning.” Eren states. 
You avert your gaze from Gabi and Falco – who are sitting in the corner playing a very intense game of cards together and giggling – to Jean and Mikasa, who are very drunkenly dancing with Niccolo and Sasha, who unfortunately got roped into it. 
“Tell me about it.” you respond. 
You can’t help but smile as Niccolo takes turns spinning Mikasa around, as Sasha and Jean attempt a very dangerous version of a dip, which results in Jean dropping her flat on the floor. Eren’s ready to jump up, but Armin gestures for him to keep sitting before jumping up. 
“Sometimes I think it’s sweet though. I think back to all those award shows and realize that they probably had a really great time together. Just dancing together, enjoying each other's company.” you respond. 
“Yeah. That first one we did though was really fun. I mean, Sukuna and the lollipop thing was like really fucking annoying. But besides that, I really liked that we were all just sitting together having a good time.” 
You snort. 
“Do you ever think about how
important moments seem after the fact? And that
sometimes you don’t really know how much something will mean later?” you ask. 
“What do you mean?” 
“When we went to Seattle, I was talking with Lana. And I was telling her that Sukuna and I are nowhere near as close as you and her are. And she was telling me that Sukuna and I were like that. And that back then, when I met him, I was the one of the first people to kind of
 understand that he was joking. To not immediately think bad of him or be weirded out by it, I guess.” you respond. 
Eren shrugs. 
“I guess. I mean, you showing up for my birthday dinner, it must have seemed to you that I was being so reserved when I left with Hyla. But that was the moment for me that I knew I wanted to be out of that thing, that kind of started everything.” Eren responds. 
You feel your cheeks heat up. And you’re sure that the four shots that Mikasa gave you earlier, the slight buzz in your veins, is what makes you say it. 
“This is one of them too. The important moments I’ll look back on.” you respond. 
You watch as Eren’s eyes go wide, before he awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck and smiles at the ground. 
“How so?” 
“All of this time that I get to spend with you. It’s up there, with everything else.” 
Eren reaches forward, linking his hand in with yours, before he squeezes three times. 
“Me too.” 
The two of you keep your hands that way, linked together and raised in the air, before the wind nearly gets knocked out of you by Jean leaning his entire weight on you. You can see that Mikasa is doing the same to Eren, hands tangled around his neck and nearly strangling him. 
“Did you guys know you’re the best maid of honor and best man ever?” Mikasa whines. 
Eren takes her hands, untangling them from cutting off his circulation, before letting her lean against his shoulder. You can see that he’s pleasantly surprised from the affection, wrapping his arm around her and leaning his head against hers as well. 
“Yes, Mikasa. We know.” Eren responds. 
“Stop being cocky, Eren.” Jean grumbles, as you turn your head to the side to smile at him. 
“Yeah, Eren.” you respond, emphasizing each syllable as he rolls his eyes. 
Eren shakes his head at the two of you, before looking down at Mikasa. 
“Are you ready for your gift, Mika?” Eren asks. 
“What? Really?” 
Eren gives her a nod as she nearly jumps up with excitement, teetering on the heels of her feet as Eren momentarily disappears to grab the little tape. Jean looks down at you, giving you a steely glare, as you roll your eyes. 
“What, Jean?”
“You are getting me a gift, right?” 
“Do you think I’m a nutjob? Obviously, I’m getting you a gift. You’re getting married.” 
“It better blow my fucking mind, Y/N. I have seriously high hopes after finding out what Eren got Mikasa.” 
You grin. 
“Trust me. It’s going to be everything you wanted and more.” 
Jean glares at you. 
“I don’t like your tone. If it’s a gag gift, you’re not meeting any of my children.” 
“They’re also Mikasa’s children. She’ll let me see them.” 
“No, I won’t let her.” 
“You don’t own the kids, Jean.” 
“The fuck do you mean? They’re my kids.” 
You elbow him in the sides. 
“These aren’t even real kids yet! Why are you getting territorial over people who don’t even exist yet?” 
Mikasa slings her arm around both of your shoulders, before squeezing the two of you way too hard under her grip. The two of you give each other wide eyes as she nearly cuts off your circulation and scolds both of you. 
“Why are you guys always so mean to each other? I thought you guys were getting along.” 
“We do get along!” Jean responds. 
“So along! We’re two peas in a pod!” you respond. 
Mikasa slightly loosens her grip as Eren walks up, twisting the little CD in his hand, as he eyes the three of you. She absentmindedly links her arm in with his and Jean, as Jean and Eren mimic their motions and loop you into the circle. 
There’s tears bubbling in her eyes, as you and Eren spare each other a glance, and prepare yourself for the waterworks that are going to follow. Mikasa was always an emotional drunk. 
“Thank you guys for planning such a good party for us. And for being really good friends to us.” Mikasa responds, voice cracking. 
You smile, cheeks nearly hurting, as you squeeze Eren and Jean’s arms. 
“Of course, Mikasa. You-” 
“We’re never going to be able to repay you both. I never forgot how many times you both took the fall for us back in the day whenever Levi got mad at us for switching our rooms around. And that you guys always did it whenever we asked.” 
Eren shakes his head. 
“I promise that we wanted to switch rooms just as badly as you guys did. Relax, Mikasa.” 
“I want you guys to be so happy. You guys are both such good people that it makes my heart hurt. You’re so, so perfect for each other.” 
You can feel Eren stiffen at your side as your cheeks heat up, the awkwardness sweltering in the air. 
“Thank you, Mikasa. That’s very sweet of you.” 
“I want my kids to be like ring bearers or flower girls at your wedding! I want our kids to be best friends like we were best friends and make those stupid videos like we used to do back in the day.” 
“Speaking of those videos, can I give you your gift now, Mikasa?” Eren asks. 
Mikasa lifts her hands, wiping the wetness off of her face, as she nods. Eren walks towards the TV, setting up the little video player, as you grab the group of them and signal them to join you around the couch to watch the video. 
The song starts playing, the soft little piano, of a song you had coincidentally written about Jean and Mikasa years prior. You and Jean had visited Mikasa on the set of one of her old films, Emma, and you had half heartedly scribbled some lyrics about it. You were able to find the old book in the back of your drawers and piece it together properly with Armin and Niccolo’s help. 
When Emma falls in love, she paces the floor Closes the blinds and locks the door When Emma falls in love, she calls up her mom Jokes about the ways that this one could go wrong She waits and takes her time 'Cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain When Emma falls in love, I know That boy will never be the same
'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her
Eren pieced together the perfect videos. You’re positive that he’s stolen from all of Levi’s old tapes, as well as the dumb camera that the group of you all used in the early seasons. The clips are all of Jean and Mikasa – of such seemingly unimportant moments that nearly make your heart burst at the sight of the two of them now. 
There’s sprinkles of you and Eren in the videos, of the two of you recording them in the background holding hands when you were trying to catch their attention. And of Connie and Reiner just blowing kissy faces at them or Sasha and Bertholdt trying to imitate the two of them. 
Nearly everyone’s laughing at the clips – at how little Jean and Mikasa look at all of the clips – and Mikasa secures her hand in with yours. 
“Is that you singing? Did you write this song about me?” 
“Yeah. Way back when you filmed Emma.” 
You can see her face curl up in emotion, before she leans her head against your shoulder. She still has one of her hands wrapped in with Eren’s, stopping every few seconds to give him a really big smile that you can tell means the world to him. 
Emma met a boy with eyes like a man Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand Now he'll be her shelter when it rains Little does he know, his whole world's about to change
'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her Yeah, between me and you, sometimes I wish I was her
The clip ends with the group of you hugging, when you had finished wrapping season one. You remember the moment distinctly – the dread that came with it. Because you didn’t know if you were going to get a season two, if anyone was even going to like the show, or if you’d ever see any of them again. 
Armin initiates it first, by leaning forward over the couch and wrapping his arm around Eren and Mikasa. And then one by one, you’re all piling on each other – warm tears in your eyes as everyone ruffles Jean and Mikasa’s hair – the two of them pink in the face with their tears. 
You stand up to pop the CD out of the box as you watch Eren and Mikasa give each other a long hug, Eren responding warmly to the babbling mess coming out of her mouth. 
“Eren. Eren, I love you so much.” 
“I love you too, Mikasa.” 
“This is perfect. This is so perfect, you’re one of my best friends ever, you know that?” 
Eren laughs, before placing both of his hands on her shoulders. 
“You’re one of my best friends too, Mikasa. Save one dance for me at the wedding, okay?” 
“Of course. Of course, of course we have to dance together. You can’t leave me hanging, Eren.” 
“This was my idea! And you’re the one who’s going to be so busy. Just don’t forget me.” 
You’re caught off guard from watching the two of them when you feel a tapping on your shoulder to find Ymir at your side. You give her a smile as you both lean against the wall. 
“Hey.” 
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor. You can say no.” Ymir states. 
“Yeah, of course. What’s up?” 
“That was
a really sweet song you wrote about Mikasa. I’ve always really loved how you can feel the emotion in songs you write.” 
You smile. 
“Is there any way that you could write a song with me? About Sofia? Because, we’re good but I want her to know that she means the world to me. And she’s been a fan of yours for so long that I think that it would be something that was really special to her. And I know that things are complicated because of Historia and that you might have picked a side, but I’m just asking you for this as your friend and –” 
“I’m on your side too.” you state. 
“Hm?” 
“Historia is my friend. But you are too. And I want you and Sofia to be happy, I really like her and I really like you.” 
You watch as Ymir deflates. 
“Really?” 
“You’re meant to be together. I think that she can really love you in the way that you deserve.” 
Ymir leans forward, uncharacteristically affectionate, as she wraps her arms around you and squeezes your arms. 
“You’re a really good person, Y/N.” Ymir states. 
You laugh. 
“You must be as drunk as Mikasa.” 
“No, no I really mean it. You always have really good intentions at heart. I know that your whole lover girl branding must be
frustrating to look at after everything that happened. But that’s always who you’ve been, with all of us. It’s a really good part of you.” Ymir states. 
You smile. 
“You’re speaking really highly of me. All I did was say I was going to write a song with you, Ymir.” 
“I think you deserve really good things. People have given you way too much hurt than you deserve.” 
--
The following morning, you’re able to snag Armin to help you play Ymir’s song for Sofia. And surely enough, you can feel it radiating as you watch her face light up, the way she nearly beams at the two of you as you sing. 
You sit abandoned in the room, hours after Armin, Ymir, and Sofia trickle away. 
Only because it’s so overwhelming that it nearly suffocates you. The love in the room. 
Ymir and Sofia. Jean and Mikasa and Gabi and Falco. The way Eren and Armin have reconciled and how you always see Levi smiling at you from the back of the room when the group of you are messing around. 
You’re so full of it that you can barely breathe, so nervously anxious that it makes your stomach hurt. 
“You okay?” 
You look up to find Eren looking down at you. At the love in the room, staring at you so intently. 
“Yeah.” 
“I had a question.” 
You tap the open seat on the couch next to you, shuffling to the side, as he joins you. 
“Sure. What’s up?”
You watch as Eren leans forward on his knees, eyes trained on the ground as he cracks through each of the knuckles in his fingers. 
“You can say no. You don’t have to feel obligated to answer in any way because it was just an idea I had. I won’t be hurt if you don’t want to, or
or had other plans I don’t know about because you’re obviously entitled to that! And you know, it’s a harmless type of thing that I just wanted to –” 
“Eren.” 
He pauses, looking up at you. 
“Just ask.” you finish. 
“Will you be my date to the wedding?” Eren asks. 
You feel the butterflies swarming in your stomach as you smile at him, squeezing your hands into fists as you hold them close to your chest. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah. Yeah, I want to go with you. We’re doing a song together and
and we’re all good. It would be nice to be together, like we did back when we wrote invisible string. That and I kind of need you to point out all the love in the room for me just so I can remember it all.” Eren responds. 
You smile. 
“Of course. We’ll take turns. I’ll point one out and then you.” 
Eren grins. 
“Deal.” 
You reach forward, placing your pointer finger against his chest. He looks down before looking back up at you, confused. 
“What?” he asks. 
“You just asked me to point out the love in the room.” 
You watch as Eren leans his head back, unable to contain his smile, as he shoves your hand away and mimics the motion by pointing back.
--
an: anyways ymir requests a song about her relationship with historia later on and they write you're losing me. and yes, you're losing me and champagne problems end up being about the same relationship. also historia being so jo march coded by saying she would accept ymir's proposal now that she's actually with someone else and can't have her....anyways jeankasa wedding oh we cried
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utterlyotterlyx · 2 days
Note
4 and/or 25 with Eris, please!
Lost In The Fire
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Eris x Fem!Reader
Warnings - mentions of arranged marriage, suggestive comments, lots of fluff
(not spell checked sorry x)
What if you - If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you. Don't leave me here alone.
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Balls had never been, nor ever would be, your thing.
The opulence that came with them was sickening, a waste of precious resources that could be put toward something more beneficial. The gold on display, the mountains of food that hardly anyone would touch that sat as a putrid reminder of power and wealth, and the stench of ale made your stomach churn with distaste.
You would forever curse your brother, Thesan, for giving you over to the Autumn Court, you understood that you had a duty to fulfil, and since you were the sister of one of the more liberal courts, with unmatched spiritual abilities, it meant that you were a high prize indeed.
You had long lost your usual clothing, red and gold loose fitting robes that still had the power to accentuate every feature you held lay dormant in your wardrobe and had been swapped out for tighter fitting garments in an arrangement of greens and browns and oranges. By order of Lady Autumn, of course.
There would be a day when her title would belong to you, and you always had to look the part.
It was a part you played well.
Marriage to Eris, the Heir of the Autumn Court, wasn't nearly as bad as you had expected it to be. It was lucky that your talents in spirituality were so advanced, and you were also lucky that his knowledge of your gifts was so little when you had first met.
Despite his cold exterior, you saw a small boy within him wanting more than anything to break free from the chains that bound him to his position. It was his only defence against his father. But, he knew that you could see through it, see through him in a way that no one else could and part of him was relieved to finally have someone who could understand him.
Things were still rocky, you struggled with their way of life, something Beron despised and spoke of frequently, saying he did not want you leading his court if you couldn't bend your morals and do what was needed. If turning your back on the people who needed you was too stiff, then you didn't want to be leading his court anyway.
But everything with Eris was good, more than good actually, you had actually come to care for him beyond the requirements of your marriage. Eris had moved your rooms opposite his own to have you closer to him, to have you speak him into newfound calm when his duties became too much; to have you closer to him so that he could soothe your clairvoyant episodes that pounced on you from nowhere.
It was meant to be a marriage of convenience, a marriage to forge new power and bonds and produce a litter of children who possessed both of your abilities. A new path for Autumn, a stronger path.
The clouds darkened on the horizon, the moon poked through their curls and illuminated them with a faint pale blue glow. Lanterns lined the garden paths below your window, Eris had made sure to give you the room with the best view, and you watched idly as high born nobles and invited guests to the nights festivities strolled down the cobbled stone paths arm in arm, pointing at the array of intricately carved white marble statues and fountains littered across the lawns, scattered between the hedges and lush flowerbeds.
Ladies swarmed you, tugging at your limbs and shimmying skirts up your legs before huffing and ripping them down again, tapping your calves to tell you to lift your feet so that they could try the next one. Lady Autumn ordered that racks upon racks of opulent dresses be wheeled into your chambers, it was important that you look your best in front of all of the nobles attending that evening, from Autumn and those from other courts.
Even Beron knew how powerful your opinion was to others, not like he would ever listen to it himself. You had been the one to accompany your brother to the High Lords meeting to find a path forward against Hybern. It was your grace and elegance that kept the meeting from boiling over since you were able to feel the emotions of others and force them to simmer down before they consumed the room. It was you who had been able to tell them all of Hyberns movements which no doubt gave them the edge they needed. It was you who saved dozens upon dozens of soldiers from all courts.
You had been the one to help Feyre with the complications with her pregnancy, you had been there for the birth of her son and had given a kernel of your own gift to keep her alive; it made you a very trusted ally to the Night Court, a friend. Helion wrote to you often asking for you opinions on research and inventions, even went as far as to ask for your input on some new policies he wanted to introduce to Day.
It was stupid to suggest that you wouldn't be the perfect High Lady.
Diplomatic. Gifted. Elegant. Poised.
And Eris adored every part of you that you decided to show him, he basked in it actually.
You weren't really paying attention as the ladies around you tugged at your hair and pulled another dress up your body, fitting it tightly around your breasts and hips before standing back and humming in approval. Then you looked.
An assortment of shimmering golds, burnt oranges and flecks of silver, all weaving between one another like the summer tides. It was sheer, enough to be endearing and elegant but not enough to appear indecent. There was a cut out half sphere below your breasts and the bodice flared upward like streaks of sunshine at the crack of dawn. Even you had to admit that it was a stunning piece indeed. Like a stained glass window glowing with dawns kiss.
"This is the one," your fingers brushed around your hips with a faint smile, your hair was unbound and simple, a perfect compliment to the other-worldly dress you adorned, and your makeup was a picture of dewy perfection, shimmers along your cheekbones and forehead, arched brows, glossed lip. "Thank you," you had dismissed the flock of women as soon as they strapped your shoes to your feet, taking a moment for yourself before you slipped from the room.
The quietness of the hallway was enough to tell you that Eris would already be in the ballroom, no doubt sassily quipping the other High Lords and Ladies with cold eyes and a stiff spine. An act that would melt under your presence.
You weren't wrong.
As soon as you had entered the room, it was encapsulated by you. Feyre and Mor rushed to greet you, stroking your hair and running their hands down your skirts, begging for you to tell them where had gotten it. Cassian bundled you into a boisterous embrace which earnt him a curt jab from Nesta for the inappropriateness, Azriel kissed your knuckles as did Rhys, and Helion kissed your cheek in greeting, muttering to you how beautiful you looked in a hushed tone.
No reaction compared to that of Eris however as he remained glued to his seat with lips agape as his russet orbs scoured your figure, the mere action of his eyes on you making heat rise to your cheeks.
Tables lined the room with benches on either side, all packed with goblets of wine and mugs of ale, platters of food scattered at intricately measured intervals. Only Beron and Lady Autumn sat at the head of the hall, the latter of which examined you with approval.
Everyone had floated about you, stealing your attention from the one you desired to give it to. From Rhys asking you, jokingly, to revolt against Autumn and find sanctuary in Velaris, to Thesan pulling you to the side to inquire if you were being treated well. Helion had updated you on the policies you had so gracefully aided him in implementing, and you found a moment to catch up with Kallias and Viviane.
Then you made your way over to Eris who was wrapped up in a conversation with Lucien and Elain, whose gaze jolted from cold to warm in a split second when he saw your dress glistening in the corner of his eye, "Hello, Embers," his voice was as smooth as freshly cracked open whisky as he prodded you with the nickname he had given you, he thought you glowed, not brightly, but like embers on a dying fire, low and warm.
Eris was extremely proud to call you his wife, not only were you clearly beautiful, but you had a heart of molten gold, people sought you out for comfort and aid, you were graceful and poised, and could change the world with your bare hands if you wished it. It was what he needed, a chance of a real future with the woman he was falling in love with.
He couldn't blame you for your feelings toward him, you didn't exactly have a choice in the marriage but you had tried to make the most of it, and you had let him in and spent more time with him away from the duties required of you. Eris thought that you had finally started to feel a certain way toward him as well, from the faint shine in your eyes when you looked at him to the real laughter that sliced through the fogged atmosphere when he quipped something to you. You made him melt, you made him be who he always wanted to be.
"Hello," your voice was as soft as drizzled honey and your hair fell over your shoulders as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, a necessary act to display your strength as a couple.
Eris felt your eyes trail down his chest and arms, the open collared cream shirt and chestnut brown jacket and pants; he had styled his hair the way you loved it, tamed but still with a playfulness to it, tousled slightly as if he had been stood on the balcony in the wind for a few moments. "Do you like it?" Eris motioned to his suit with that gleam in his eye that made your knees weak, it was certainly a good thing that he wasn't an empath like you, otherwise he'd know his effect on you and no doubt tease you for it.
Just because Eris couldn't feel your emotion doesn't mean that someone else couldn't read you like a book.
You're blushing, a voice infiltrated your mind and you did well to keep a stoic face against Rhys' shit-eating smirk he was no doubt wearing from his seat across the bench from your husband, with his arm loosely wrapped around Feyre's waist, sipping from his goblet with a teasing glint in his eye. Someone might say you might actually feel something for the man.
Ignoring the voice in your head, you spoke, "I love it, we're basically matching."
You'll definitely be matching when both of your clothes are on the floor tonight.
Go fuck yourself, Rhys.
I don't need to. Not when I have my lovely mate.
The walls in your mind flew up then, trapping his talons against the roof of your consciousness with such force that the High Lord visibly winced and rubbed his temple tenderly.
"You look angelic," Eris stood before you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips against the back of your hand, dipping low and peering at you through his lashes, making no effort to mask the desire in his emotions.
"Thank you," it came out as a whisper and he placed your hand back to your side, sitting down again beside his brother, allowing you to glance along the table which housed not only Eris and Lucien, but also Elain, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Helion, and your brother, meaning there was no space for you, "I suppose I'll go and sit with Kallias and Viviane," you picked up your skirts to turn away when Eris' hand shot out and secured around your wrist.
Eris' eyes glowed in the candlelight, you could see the flames flickering in his russet orbs that had you in a constant chokehold, "What if you-"
"If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you," Azriel choked on his wine and coughed as Rhys and Cassian howled in laughter, even Eris chuckled and ran a hand through his hair at your words, standing to tower over you and cup your face in his hand.
"Perhaps later," he smirked and you visibly blushed at the words, even Eris couldn't miss it and he stroked a thumb over your rosed cheek.
In defence, you quipped, "Maybe I'll go back to my chambers then," the words flew from your mouth and you only realised how they sounded when Eris' focus darkened, the tension between you both was palpable to the point that even Azriel let out a whoosh of air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.
"So tempting," he took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and speaking a low, rough tone, "Don't leave me here alone, you know I don't do well without you."
"Fine," you strained and he grinned victoriously before ordering his brother and Elain to scooch down slightly to make room for you, and you slotted beside Eris like the final piece to his puzzle, thanking him for the goblet of wine you had taken from his offering fingers and looking upward at Rhys and Feyre who both sent you a knowing glance.
Knocking on the doors of your mind, you allowed Rhys to slip in, doing your best to stay distracted against Eris' hand on your hip that sent fire coursing through your veins and heat pooling between your thighs.
I've never known him to be like this, you know.
Like what?
Rhys' eyes flickered to Eris in examination before finding you again whilst Feyre kept the heir ignorant to the conversation between you and her mate.
Soft. Caring. He loves you, Y/N.
Well, it's a good thing I love him too then.
Rhys smirked, raising his goblet to you to which you clinked against your own, sipping the spiced wine and smiling with happiness at his words.
Eris sighed and turned to you, placing a kiss to your cheek, allowing his lips to graze against your cheekbones and his breath to fan down your neck. The rest of the room had moved on, wrapped up in one another, wrapped up in the ale and music, leaving you and Eris alone and untouchable in your little bubble. His eyes scanned you, sketching every part of you onto the canvas within his mind, "Your presence has impacted me so deeply that I'm convinced that if we never met then something would feel missing," he rested his forehead against your own and his hand gripped your waist as his gaze bore into you, "Don't leave me alone, don't ever leave me," a breathless plea that stole your heart.
"I will never leave you, Eris. I will be here to watch all of your dreams come true, I promise."
Flames danced in his eyes and he became unbothered by who could be watching, "They already are," his finger stroked a line up the curve of your throat as he lifted your chin up, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours in something you could only call ethereal, so tender but passionate that you felt your heart burst with golden light in your chest.
Eris smirked against your lips, a knowing thing, like he knew exactly what had just happened, pulling away, you gasped as your hand ghosted over the fabric of your heart, "You knew?"
"From the moment we met at that meeting in Dawn," his nose brushed against yours, "You were too busy helping Thesan and keeping Tamlin under control to notice, but I saw you, and I knew I needed you."
"You never said anything."
"How could I?" Eris pressed a kiss to your nose, "You had to fall for me on your own, I couldn't influence that."
You inhaled his scent, of crackling firewood and spiced oranges and sighed, you curled your fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again, more forcefully, and luckily for you both, the room hadn't noticed your infatuation due to Cassian's well played distraction to give you both a moment, one that you needed.
"I need to get you out of here before I take you on this table," his voice possessively growled and it made you shudder in intense delight.
Rhys watched from across the way as Eris took your hand in his own and pulled you from the room, smiling at the large grin on your face and the faint giggles passing through your lips as he saw the silhouette of Eris flinging you over his shoulder cascaded in shadow onto the white stone floor.
If anyone deserved true happiness, a life of wonder and love, it was you, and it was something Rhys believed Eris was now fully capable of providing for you.
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Author's Note
Back from Paris in love with the idea of love so expect lots of fluff coming your way x
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sulumuns-dootah · 16 hours
Text
WHB Kings meeting their Obey Me! counterparts
A/N: I try to not pit/compare these two games against each other, but as someone who was into Obey Me! (and still is) and found out about WHB thanks to it, i need to get this out of my system.
⟡ Masterlist ⟡
The scenario is that OM!Solomon messed up some spell and made Obey Me! and What in Hell is bad? universes interconnect and our demon kings get to meet their other version. (I only included those kings that we've already met in WHB - when we get Belphie and Asmo, I might make part 2)
      àŒșâ˜†àŒ»
Lucifer
Their meeting is the calmest and most civilised out of all of them.
They don't really talk outside of formal greeting and some polite small talk
Oh, but on the inside? OM!Lucifer is internally appalled by the amount of skin that's WHB!Lucifer showing
WHB!Lucifer is really wondering who this Diavolo guy is, since OM!Lucifer managed to mention him in their little small talk about ten times
OM!Lucifer excuses himself after some time to go make sure his brothers don't do anything stupid while meeting their counterpart
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Mammon
Oh
Oh no
This can go in two ways: OM!Mammon's ego gets absolutely crushed (there seems to be a pattern with WHB!Mammon) and just doesn't talk at all, just moping around while trying to look intimidating or he tries to get some treasures off WHB!Mammon since they're technically the same guy and he can definitely trust that he won't sell it to repay his debts
In the second case OM!Lucifer storms in and stops any of his attempts
That entertains WHB!Mammon though, and so he does give OM!Mammon some worthless (read: expensive, but not that rare) treasures
That lights up OM!Mammon's eyes and he doesn't shut up about it for the next century
      àŒșâ˜†àŒ»
Leviathan
Well this goes even worse than the Mammons meeting
OM!Leviathan tries to keep his composure, but fails
The envy is strong in this one and some Lovecraftian horrors might get summoned
OM!Leviathan now has more reasons to put himself down, good luck OM!MC with this one
WHB!Leviathan has a hard time believing that that's him from different universe. What went wrong?
But it does make him feel better. He was worried that this other Leviathan would look better than him and beat him at one of the things he's best at
If OM!Lucifer manages to calm OM!Leviathan, they might be able to bond over their use of bathtubs, but no promises
      àŒșâ˜†àŒ»
Beelzebub
WHB!Beelzebub expected a lot, but not this
He's not horny? He just loves to eat food so much he even eats inedible objects like pillars of buildings?
Though, he does now wonder how that tastes
OM!Beelzebub tries to not judge WHB!Beelzebub just based on looks, but can't help himself to see how thin he is. Does he even eat at all?
Also, what are those gemstones and how would they taste?
The huge word 'FEED' on WHB!Beelzebub's coat reminds him that he hasn't eaten in a while
The moment WHB!Beelzebub mentions about his hobby in cooking, OM!Beelzebub is on board and on the way to the nearest kitchen
Interestingly enough, the aphrodisiac effects don't seem to be working on OM!Beelzebub, so he just enjoys the meal, but secretly wishes it was Barbatos' cooking instead
      àŒșâ˜†àŒ»
Satan
'What do you mean Lucifer is your father?'
These two have hard time accepting that they're technically the same demon.
WHB!Satan is disappointed. He expected someone more scary than horned chicken impersonator. What's that boa about? How do you fight angels in that?
OM!Satan tries to stay calm and not loose his temper when WHB!Satan teases his about his clothing. Somehow he manages.
WHB!Satan is surprisingly more talkative than with most demons. They're the same demon after all and therefore they face the same difficulties, no?
OM!Satan is glad to hear that his other self is favored by his people. The pain kink though? He could do without knowing that, really.
      àŒșâ˜†àŒ»
A bonus! ^^
Barbatos
OM!Barbatos is trying to stay as calm and professional as possible, but can't help but wonder what on earth is that noose for
When he finds out it's to show loyalty for his master, he gets calmer
When he finds out that it does actually gets used for hanging, he's back to slight panic mode
WHB!Barbatos doesn't like OM!Barbatos from the beginning. How does one absorb sunlight in so much clothes? No wonder he's so pale and seemingly tired all the time.
All these gloomy colors make him sad. It's almost like this other Barbatos sucked all the color out of the room.
OM!Barbatos is appaled to find out about WHB!Barbatos' interests, but feels intrigued. If the sun ever came up in Devildom, he would try sunbathing, albeit more modestly dressed.
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lovelyghst · 2 days
Note
Your last ask about hungry simon and eating your leftovers just warmed my heart!
Like he would have a field day with me cause I can't eat much in one sitting but get hungry easily and sadly get sick fast if I can't eat.
Just Imagine him always having safe snacks on hand and loving strolling around and getting snacks from vendors and such and he just gets more than half of everything cause you get full so fast
Or
Hear me out
You're always cooking for a football team portion wise and and and him praising the food and just really loving it (not me with a praise kink) and you're just glad it doesnt go to waste and he gets to feel full and satisfied
~🍯
[one, two, three.]
honestly!! simon has to carry snacks around with him twenty-four/seven. like, bag of pretzels being dwarfed by his giant palm while he’s walking around the house, emptying a large bag of beef/steak jerky every day and a whole carton of eggs every two days.
being eyed by the employees of a store while you try on clothes because food and drinks aren’t allowed in store yet none of the staff want to be the one to confront the six-foot-four, intimidating, hulking man with an apple in his hand as he watches you do a twirl for him.
and you’re so real for the last part! si has manners, undoubtedly, and he won’t hesitate to let you know how much he appreciates you and your hard work; he’d be such a fool not to.
just walking into his home office while he’s working at his desk, bowl of cut up strawberries and kiwis in hand for him to munch on as you find your place in his lap, possibly for a quick nap. bonus points if you cut the fruits up into little shapes or cover them in melted chocolate.
he gives the best hugs; it’s a given, considering his mass, and he could never say no to the sensation of your arms wrapped around his neck, pretty face buried in his collar, and the calming rhythm of your breathing against his chest reminding him that he could use a break, too.
he loves the effort you put in for him when he doesn’t even ask, and he always makes sure to pay you back for it. sometimes it tugs so severely at his heartstrings that, despite never wanting children or anything of the sort, he suddenly wants to make you a parent. only with him, and so fucking bad that it makes him sick.
but anyways my american brain is taking over and imagine going to a state fair or carnival with him, or just any theme park in general. you know he’s already getting in line for a vendor while he still has the prior’s food in his hand. the idea of him carrying around one of those ginormous turkey legs is so silly to me.
you’re going home with the half-dozen giant stuffed animals he won for you at the shooting games while he’s balancing two funnel cakes and an elephant ear in one hand, and your bag, filled with various sweets and memorabilia, in the other as you hike back to the car.
also, in my mind retired simon would still work as a consultant on a nearby military base a few days of the month or whenever he’s needed, and now i’m thinking about packing him nice lunches for those days, and how absolutely adorable he finds it. he’s glad he still has his own desk because the little love notes you leave in his box quite literally have his heart racing and knees buckling.
guys the demons are winning and now i can’t stop thinking about how good of a (girl!) dad he would be. i’m in shambles.
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literaila · 3 days
Note
HEYYYY!! It's me again!!
I have two things to discuss today.
Firstly, have you seen those reels where Megumi reminds Gojo of Toji and he gets freaked out? So has this ever happened in the Gojo household? If yes, how dramatic does Satoru act?
Secondly, I have a request, It would absolutely make my day to see Satoru jealous. (Yes, I know we saw a it with Nanami, but can you blame a girl to want more?) Like if the reader got hit on, I am sure he'll pull something like he did to Megumi with Nobara and Yuji.
Thank you for reading this,
You are amazing and I love you.
(I'll do anything you ask me to.)
no doubt, for the first couple of months (two years) megumi lived with satoru, every time the boy woke up in the morning with his hair deflated, or walked in the room scratching his head, or sat on the couch, or went into the bathroom—satoru had to refrain a wince.
it’s not that the likeness was uncanny
 but
 well, the attitude was.
when megumi had on that evil smirk—usually when one of his many plots against satoru came to fathom—it was clear that the very man satoru had erased from existence had shared some of his more
 admirable qualities with the boy.
sometimes it was the way megumi spoke. the tiny little inflections that satoru was probably making up, but were also definitely there. the little sigh when he asked the boy a question or the clearing of a throat when megumi was confused.
and the eyes.
megumi’s eyes were always cold, always hesitant, always moving around, constantly looking for some problem to focus on. and his glares, and his eyebrows, and uuugch.
sometimes satoru had to run into the bathroom just to cower himself away for a moment.
and if megumi happened to knock on the door, already scowling when satoru opened it a crack, really, the gasp that came next was unavoidable.
“what’s up with you?” megumi demands, shaking his head at the older, very immature man. “can you move?”
said man would open the door as little as possible as he squeezed by, trying and failing not to stare at the little boy—who has very dark hair, dark eyes, and dark intent specifically when it comes to satoru.
none of it goes unnoticed.
so if satoru is leaning over the counter, his eyes pleading with yours, you already know what it’s about.
(you’d learned about satoru’s weird superstition about two days into becoming his co-parent).
“no,” you say immediately, going back to making both of the children’s lunch.
“i didn’t say anything.”
“still no, satoru.”
“but, please,” he falls against the counter dramatically, wide blue (alien) eyes basically perfect spheres as he widens them. “just this once?”
“it’s a supply store.”
he shakes his head intently. “that’s not the issue.”
you give him a bland look, unamused with his stupid qualms, and put the lid on a container.
“he looks freaky,” satoru whispers, conspiring. “there’s something off.”
you look over to megumi who is sitting at the table, swinging his legs and chewing on some cut up ginger.
he looks as pleasant (frowning) and sweet (irritated) as always to you.
you raise a brow at satoru, choosing not to argue with him about this. god knows you do it enough.
“do you want me to cry?” satoru asks, pouting. “i have ptsd.”
you roll your eyes. “ever heard of exposure therapy?“
so satoru takes megumi to the store to get markers and papers for a school project, giving him questionable glances from beneath his glasses, and making weird comments under his breath about psychopaths and plastic surgery.
when they get home megumi is annoyed as ever, attempting to slam the door in satoru’s face before he can walk through.
you’re, of course, sitting with tsumiki at the table and watch as this interaction happens.
megumi stomps by and tells you, “please kick him out. he’s being weird again.”
and satoru just opens the door, red faced, finger pointing at the little boy, demanding: “see?”
so, yeah. satoru suffers with the memory of toji, and his biggest ideation (hurting the six-eyes user) comes to life in the form of a little boy who now lives in his home. just two rooms down the hall.
seriously, who really won that fight?
but as the months (years) go on, satoru learns to mostly ignore the resemblance between the two. sure, when megumi wears his hair differently or says anything in that rough, angry voice satoru gets a little freaked, but so what?
(if he has to go sit in his closet for a couple of minutes it’s just because he’s tired, okay? it has nothing to do with being afraid of a six year old or anything of the sort).
still, things slowly begin to change as megumi grows accustomed to satoru’s antics, and satoru becomes accustomed to being called out for them.
(you do it occasionally, but satoru knows you’re mostly joking. you’re nothing if not the benefactor of his schemes.
on the other hand, the only other person to ever seriously call him out about his ego was
 suguru.
so. there’s that.)
and eventually, satoru doesn’t even notice if megumi is looking at him with devious intent. he’s well prepared and not afraid of some whiny little kid who can’t even reach the top shelf in the fridge.
(he hides behind you, usually.)
but even satoru can’t ignore the way megumi begins to change as he grows. literally, several inches by the time he’s eight.
and then there’s the way his eyes—his cold, evil eyes—change when he’s talking to tsumiki, or you. the way he softens when you’re trying to tell him something, or when he needs help. the tiny, affectionate grin that grows on his face when tsumiki is bouncing around, so full of energy that she can’t sit still.
satoru looks at him sometimes, and he doesn’t see the gifted sorcerer killer that the boy comes from, but a brother. a son that gets to be adored by the best person in the world (him you)
that is, of course, until megumi looks satoru’s way and the scowl is back, even harsher than before.
and then theres the learned attitudes, the things that you all shared—you, satoru, and the kids—just as a result of being together for so long.
isn’t there something about developing the traits of the people closest to you?
so, even though megumi is a photo copy of his father, satoru begins to see other things in the boy.
like the crinkles by his eyes, matching tsumiki’s.
or the way that his eyebrows go up when he’s trying not to smile, and the eventual twitch of his lip when he can’t help but laugh at something. satoru’s dreamed of that sight since he was seventeen and first set his eyes on you.
and then the eventual pout that megumi develops when he’s giving everyone a hard time. the pout that satoru practices in the mirror, making sure to save for only the most dire of occasions.
(also, satoru can’t help but think of megumi as the thing that keeps him
 humble, in the face of everything. that question that continuously reminds satoru to keep growing, keep getting stronger, just so he can protect everything that matters.
he won’t admit it, but satoru knows that someone had to do it. someone had to be a replacement for the only other person who could ever compare to the strongest sorcerer.
and if suguru could meet megumi, satoru thinks, sometimes, when no one else is around to hear it, they would get along.
they have a lot in common, after all).
sure, megumi might have the same face, and same smirk as toji. he might as well be a literal clone of the man, just waiting to age into his skin.
but, satoru decides, one day a couple of years in, when there’s that innate protective feeling as he observes the boy—one that satoru never thought he had, much less be able to feel—maybe it’s more that toji resembles megumi, and not the other way around.
so satoru doesn’t flinch anymore because megumi’s face brings up memories he’d prefer to keep locked away—he flinches because megumi was waiting in the shadows.
just to scare him.
(secaond idea is here)
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unitedstates0fdakota · 2 days
Text
That small conversation about names in disco elysium has been stuck with me since I finished my first playthrough because they just put into words so perfectly the feelings I have with my own name and identity.
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Harry’s comment about his name being something he “ruined” especially resonated with me. My name has been through so much since I was a kid. It’s what people yell when they’re annoyed at me, when I’ve messed up, when someone doesn’t like me, when people talk about me when they think I can’t hear them
it makes your name feel like a burden, or a reminder of your mistakes. I also feel Kim’s reaction to the same thoughts. Even though I can feel trapped by the name I’ve been given, I’m not sure if it would be an easy thing to just leave behind. I don’t hate my name, I think I just hate what I’ve done to it. And yet I still respond to it. What does that say about me?
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Text
So, since TOWL started, but even moreso after this episode, we've been discussing when was the exact moment Rick & Michonne fell in love.
Here are my thoughts.
-For Michonne, I think it's obvious and Danai already said as much. It was when she watched Rick bite a man's throat out to save his son. She saw that this man (a man she cared deeply for, a man she was very attracted to) was willing to do absolutely anything for his family and she realized he was the one. This was the man she loved. This was the man she wanted. For herself and for the future family they were already building.
-For Rick, I think it was a more gradual process. The attraction was there from day 1. From the moment he saw her standing at that fence. Sure, he was still grieving and half out of his mind, but he could see the woman standing in front of him was out-of-this-world gorgeous and their chemistry was undeniable. He could feel that tension between them even if his mind wasn't there yet.
-I think he started to fall for her in "Clear." The moment she told him she knew he'd been seeing things and she could relate, he realized she saw HIM. She saw him and accepted him in a way no one else could. What was he going to do, NOT fall for this amazing woman who understood him in a way no one ever had? Please.
-I think he fell in love with her more and more each day, but when did he actually realize he was in love with her? Imo, it was when they got to Alexandria. When he had time to take a moment to really process everything they'd been through. He takes a minute to himself and it dawns on him that he's in love with Michonne. But also, he can't be.
-Because Michonne is his son's best friend. She and Carl, they've built this incredible bond and it's precious. It's too precious to put at risk. Rick starts to worry that if he and Michonne get together, it could damage the relationship between Michonne and Carl. And Rick can't do that. He can't take that away from them. He loves his son and he loves Michonne and he won't risk hurting either of them.
-So he makes a decision. He and Michonne can't be together. At least not now. Maybe, when Carl is older. Maybe once his son has formed close bonds with other people like the one he shares with Michonne...but not now. Not when Carl and Michonne need each other. So it can't happen.
-And as Rick is trying to figure out how to suppress his feelings for Michonne, Jessie is there. And she's nice and pretty and suffering in a bad marriage to a bad man and that's a problem Rick can actually do something about. He can get this woman and her kids away from her pos husband so they can be safe. Now he's got something to focus on. Now he's got a mission that will take his attention away from the breathtaking woman he's in love with but can't actually be with.
-And so he uses Jessie as a distraction. Now, let's be clear, he doesn't do this on purpose. Rick is a good man and he would never intentionally use someone in that way. He just wanted to help this woman escape her abusive husband. But she's kind to him and she reminds him of Lori so they form a connection. And it's good. Or it could be good. If he works at it. If he tries. It could maybe, someday, turn into something good for both of them.
-But then Carl is shot and everything changes. I think, even if Jessie had lived and it had been some random kid who shot Carl, their relationship would be over. Because now Rick knows what matters to him. He knows WHO matters to him and it's not Jessie. It's Michonne. It's only ever been Michonne. And while he's still worried about how Carl might react, he can't deny his feelings anymore. So he's going to tell her how he feels.
-But how does he do that? How can he make his move on the woman who means everything to him? Where does he even start showing her how much he loves her? He's still trying to figure that out when she gives him an opening. The toothpaste. She needs something and he can give it to her. Sure, it's a small gesture, but it's a way to start showing her how he feels. He can do this. He's going to do this. He's going to bring her a whole damn truck full of toothpaste until his plans get shot to hell.
-So he gives her the mints. It's not what she wanted, but maybe it's enough. And it is. Because she doesn't need the toothpaste or the mints or any other small romantic gesture. She needs him. She needs him the way he needs her. She LOVES him the way he loves her and all that worrying was for nothing. Because Carl is going to be fine. (😭) His relationship with Michonne is unshakable. And whatever weirdness he feels at seeing Rick and Michonne together is something they can deal with. As a family. Because that's what they are. That's what they've always been.
.....Anyway.......those are my thoughts :)
When do YOU think Rick & Michonne fell in love?
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robobarbie · 10 hours
Text
Hello hellooooooo! We recently had a banner contest in the discord server, and I wanted to show y'all the awesome entries that didn't win. They're all really cool in their own ways, so I wanted to give them each a lil moment.
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(by @/jestie)
Love the focus on xyx!! He reminds me almost of what I'd think teenage him would look like. Very chill, sporty, and out with friends on a beautiful spring day. The linework in this feels really soft as well -- especially on those hat details. AND THERE'S CAT!! CAT!!!
All other submissions under the cut!
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(by @/hunddenseje)
I like the details in the flowers a lot for this one. The way people draw roses and how they choose those inner patterns is always neat. And the little plants and mushrooms on his shoulders are fun!! They go well with that striped shirt pattern!!!
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(by @/stintsy)
The way this artist circled the boys with that pink rosy pattern will stick in my brain for a while. It's v pretty, and it's like they opened a bush and found us in there for some reason. "Hello! Happy Spring!" Thanks boys please close it back up!!! It's my cry hour in the bush!!!!
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(by @/emmascient)
This person's artstyle is so unique and full of life. The little spots of light coming through the trees just adds to whole thing, too. And I really like seeing fanart of owl with textured hair!!! Also check out xyx's fucking biceps holy fucking sh-
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(by @/.mewo.)
Just a bunch of bros on their lunch break bayBEEEEEEEEEE!!! I like the detail of toast's coat tied around their waist and the fucking anti-societyboy shirt quest is wearing LMFAO. Also cat is ADORABLE in this. God. More cat art. Always need more cat art!!
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(by @/c1nnadoll)
Every time nightowl is drawn in a croptop, two months is added to my life. I just know it's true. God bless that cute ass flower crown and the perfect little peace sign. Man looks so stable and happy. I hope he had a nice day after this picture!!!
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(by @/fluffydeer21)
Toast and Quest look so content and cute with their flowers. And there's another neat rose with a lil interior pattern! Held, of course, by this artist's fave LI. Xyx looks pretty good with gold jewelry, I cannot lie. I have no idea why I made them green in game. LMFAO
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(by @/noneivly)
I like how this feels like a painting. Like those brush strokes and even the palette choice just look like something you'd see hung on a wall? It's really cool. Also the little detail of the chibi picnic boys in the background makes me giggle. Small!!!!! So fucking small!!!
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(by @/kiki_221)
The energy in this is excellent. You can almost hear them laughing together at Toast's expense (deserved I'm sure). I'd like to imagine they're all relaxing at a park after a big lunch. I hope they got to discuss all the good things that happened to them this week.
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(by @/01noxxie10)
Another excellent chillin in the grass pic! Purple actually looks really good on Quest. I don't think I've ever drawn him in that color before? So this image made me think about that a LOT. Also look at fuckin chill ass xyx. Calm beautiful motherfucker. Fuck you!!! Fuck you!!!
--------------
There's two more images, but those are the discord banner winner and the one I chose for my twitter! If you want to see those excellent drawings, check out my twitter here or join the discord server here!
Thank you everyone for all the submissions! I treasure them deeply!!
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sinning-23 · 3 days
Text
Parenthood
OPLA Dilfs with their s/o and their moody teen! Uhhh idk what possessed me to write this but here we go!
D/N= Daughters Name
S/N = Sons Name
Shanks
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-Your daughter is literally a witty bundle of joy! She's may not be moody but she definitely had a sarcastic air about her. (Shanks think she gets it from you a little bit)
-She's fast on her feet but also has her pouty moments, most of which occur when she’s told to complete her chores and she'd much rather pretend to steer the ship and watch the water for sea life.
-The most she'll do is roll her eyes and anger her eyebrows but will clear her throat when you use your mom stare on her to get her to 'fix her face'
-"Roll them again and they'll get stuck like that! Now go do what your father asked!" you snap, seeing her scurry away.
-She rarely gives Shanks attitude but when she does she tries to have it come across as joking.
-"(D/N), take these to-" "Sure dad I'll give you a hand.”
“

”
“

”
“I’m telling your mother” he chuckles, the color draining from her face.
“NO WAIT!”
Buggy
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-Your son is literally a menace and just as moody as his father, if not worse. You have to deal with constant attitude, eye rolling, and the frequent mumble under the breath.
-Buggy usually catches it and is quick to flick the boys forehead and that also results in a scuffle between the two.
-"Tell your husband to get off my DICK!" S/N shouts as Buggy chases him around the arena.
"WATCH YOU MOUTH YOU LITTLE SHIT! And quite trying to turn your mother on me!" Buggy shouts back, various body parts launching at the blue haired teen.
-Sometims it feels like youre dealing with two children because in the end each of them has and ear being pinched between your delicate fingers.
-"S/N, watch your mouth. Just because you’re a sailor doesn't mean yo need to swear like one. Buggy, darling." You begin sweetly before pinching harder,
"STOP PROVOKING OUR SON TO ANGER!"
Mihawk
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-The twins have...rather manageable attitudes when they’re reminded to calm down.
-Hell, when they were born they’d practically sneer at you if their feeding or nap time was off by a milisecond.
-Your son and daughter look closer to you accept the obvious yellow eyes. (You didn't really stand a chance when it came to the eyes,)
-Your son is more subtle with his attitude, giving jabbs to his father while your daughter just flat out doesn't give a shit.
-One day, durring an outting to stock your home with more goods, the twins noticed how everyone that lived on the village you currently reside don sort of....stared and judged them. of course they could care less but tey couldn't help but shoot insults in quiet whispers.
"She's not nearly as alluring to be this witless." S/N states, following behind you but keeping pace with his twin sister.
"If only her mother had swallowed." D/N adds.
You choke at that last one.
-Both you and Mihawk ge your fair share of attitude but all it tasks if the threat of an intense and bone breaking training sessions and all attitudes simply cease.
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boywifesammy · 1 day
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sam, dean & john definitely shared 1 bottle of that awful 5-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-bodywash thingies that you buy for cheap at pitstops. i imagine it never really bothered sam until he went off to stanford and saw how other Normal people live (including what fancy scented shampoos they use).
so sam when comes back into hunting in s1 dean obviously takes the absolute crap out of him for not only having 1: shampoo, 2: conditioner, but also 3: sensitive skin body wash. sam gets huffy about it and says that it’s not him who’s weird for caring about his body but dean for wrecking his skin & hair w/ that crappy 5-in-1 shit.
alsooo
.. dean definitely sneaks sammy’s stuff into the shower once or twice when he’s sure sam won’t notice because he’s a sucker for a nice hot shower with expensive shampoo even if he won’t admit it to sam. but i think sam would steal deans stuff sometimes as well, when he’s aching for some sort of closeness or nostalgia. its the same stuff him and john have bought forever simply because its the cheapest on the shelf, but sammy likes the familiarity of it, how it reminds him of dean’s hugs and the mundane, comforting parts of their childhood.
obviously, they can both smell it on each other, but neither of them say anything for fear of bringing attention to their own shower habits.
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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 days
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Your Love, Like Birth and Death
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cw. jjk faerie au, banshee!reader (she/her pronouns, afab), seelie prince!gojou, mutual pining but gojou's love is heavier, descriptions of blood and injuries
pairing. gojou x reader
notes. i should be working on the unseelie lord toji fic but this concept is still wracking my brain so y'all are getting this right now instead. lovesick faerie prince gojou for you, you and you! (also, spot the furuba and mirai nikki references lol.)
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This Court is dyed in the colors of Life, you note this particular morning.
Of course, this is something you’ve noted every morning since you’d been brought to this palace nearly a month ago. Yet you aren’t tired of noting it.
The Court you have found yourself in is beautiful. From the ledge you lean against, it almost feels like you can see everything in Faerie.
You see the royal gardens, a mass of long grasses and moss dotted by colorful wild blooms. Overgrown and yet each flower seems right where it is supposed to be.
Beyond the walls of the castle, you see stretches and stretches of blue spruces and just beyond that a lake that almost seems purple. If this were a palace in Unseelie territory, you might have thought a kelpie lived in it.
Across the courtyard, souls living and deceased move as if in a dance. The living with their duties for the day, unaware of their ghoulish companions drifting about. Some have the ever permanent dribble of poisoned wines falling from their lips, others' have blood seeping into their clothes from their torsos and others are missing limbs although they find no difficult in moving.
The sight of death faeries is one that gruesome. A mixture of life and death, the path you folk walk on until you return to nothing.
Neat yet unkempt, wild yet tame, expected yet unexpected ăƒŒ that is the beauty of Faerie you’ve grown accustomed to in the centuries since your creation.
A beauty you rarely have the opportunity to appreciate when you often find yourself in the realm of humans, heralding death.
You wonder how much time has passed there since you’ve come to the Court of Reckoning. All while the skies have lost the traces of violet, peach and marigold that painted the dawn skies and have begun settling into a lovely shade of pastel blue. 
“I see I’ve finally found you,” when you look over your shoulder, it’s one of the prince’s advisors that greets you. The one with the long raven-black hair and brown eyes that remind you of humus-rich soil. You see the makings of a black tail with a tuft of fur peeking from his cloak and believe him to be some sort of phouka. “I almost thought for a moment our honored guest had disappeared,” his voice is light and airy, but he seems relieved to an extent. “I’m glad my concerns were proven untrue. Satoru would be quite unmanageable if that were the case.”
You shake your head, smiling politely, “I enjoy watching dawn turn into morning.” You look at the large bouquet in the phouka’s hands ăƒŒ an assortment of lavender roses, baby’s breath and ferns.
“Our prince is too busy to deliver these himself this morning,” Suguru explains once they’ve caught your eye. You make sure to not let your fingers brush against one another when you reach for the blooms carefully. “Love at first sight, purity and fascination it is supposed to symbolize,” the advisor recounts the meaning of each bloom dutifully. He’s exasperated, you can tell. “Do you like them?”
“Yes, they’re quite lovely,” you believe so truly. Everyday since your arrival to the palace, the prince has had bouquet after bouquet gifted to you. Even if he cannot deliver them himself. “As were the rest I’ve received.”
“I’ve never seen Satoru so smitten,” you avoid the phouka’s gaze. “You should have met him when we were younger. He was adamant that he’d never be besotted with anyone lest he become a fool.” There’s a light pause as Suguru recalls the evening Satoru brought you to this palace. You who are cloaked in death and all of her colors. “Look at him now. He’s certainly caused a stir in his insistence you’ll be his queen. He’s a charming fool, though, I am sure.”
You prefer to think of the prince as a ridiculous fool but you cannot deny that he is charming. Dangerously so. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought him to be a gancanagh, a love-talker.
“Please marry me,” came the soft request as sky blue eyes stared into your very being. “And I’ll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise.”
You try not to remember the way your chest clenched in surprise. How you were so surprised it almost felt like your skin had warmed. It’s best not to focus on that memory at all.
It’s a ridiculous notion, a seelie prince in love with a banshee.
“The prince is simply confusing gratitude with love,” you return Suguru’s gaze with a polite smile. You hope he believes you. “He’ll realize that soon and I will leave this place.” You know that will bring palace staff a great sense of peace. If there is one thing you’ve learned in your long life as a banshee it is that even if the Folk spurn mortals and their blink-of-an-eye lifespans, there are many things faeries and humans have in common.
A fear of death is certainly one of them.
As such, to the vast majority of faeriekind, Death Folk like yourself are not looked upon favorably. Banshee and dullahans alike, you’re more like pests in their eyes. 
You banshee women who scream and keen if death is near. 
The dullahans who hear those screams and arrive when that final hour has approached.
Yes, you know how death fae are viewed. You’ve heard the whispers in the palace, how you are an omen of malevolence to come. That your kind are like roaches. Should one appear, others will soon follow suit.
This is why you’ve come to appreciate this private ledge on the castle walls that receives less foot traffic than the rest. You’d rather the staff of the palace have peace of mind in your absence while you live in the palace even if their prince insists you can venture the halls as much as you’d like.
Once the promised revel he hopes to throw in your honor comes to pass, you know the prince will lose his interest in you. Then you will leave and continue about your existence until you fade into nothing but a vague memory in his subconscious.
That's what you truly hope when you see the prince in question later on in the day for lunch in the garden.
How his eyes light up and he stands to his feet as Cypress, a lovely pixie tasked with being your attendant, announces your arrival. How he doesn't even wait for you to reach the table before he comes to meet you. You are unused to being treated like royalty and yet their prince insists that you are. "You won't believe how the old hags go on and on," he sighs, remnants of annoyance dancing in his tone but his voice is soft with you. Cypress takes the dismissal in stride. "I couldn't even come see you for breakfast. Did you like the flowers?"
He wraps your hands in his own large palms, seemingly unaffected by your corpse-cold skin, as he has done every time you've met since your arrival. "Yes, they were beautiful," your smile is small and doesn't quite reach your eyes. You hope this ridiculous yet charming fool realizes that loving one such as yourself is more trouble than good. That his love truly is just misplaced gratitude. "You really don't have to send me flowers every morning."
The prince disregards your words the way water rolls off the back of a duck, "next time I'll bring you the flowers myself." He guides you to the table filled to the brim with food you aren't accustomed to eating. "Will you tell me your favorites finally? I've been going out on a limb with my guesses."
"My tastes in flowers are unique, to say the least," maybe it's your nature, but your favorites tend to circle around the prevailing theme of your kind. Lavender to give the dead peace in passing on, calendula for blessing and love. Dandelions in the seed head stage were quite popular with ghost children, still finding them just as amusing as they did when they were alive. "The flowers you send me are more than enough." The prince pouts but he decides to let you skirt around his request once more. You bring focus back to the spread, "it looks like you've demanded everything in the kitchen."
There are strawberry-and-whipped cream filled pastries, cold cut platters and buttery biscuits to name a few things. The tip of the iceberg of everything on the table.
"I wanted to make sure our bases were covered," the prince grins, teeth as white as his hair. "I hope you like lavender chamomile, that's today's tea. I've never had it before." He drops cube after cube of sugar into his cup, drizzles the contents with honey before finally pouring in a splash of cream.
You take your tea plain and enjoy the gentle fragrance. Lavender buds are just barely visible below the tea's surface. You close your eyes as the flavor hits your tongue. It tastes as wonderful as it smells. "Yes, this is quite nice. I really like it."
"Should we have it for tomorrow as well?" He's too eager to curry your favor.
You open your eyes to dissuade him but your attention is instead drawn to a headless hob nearing your table. You've seen this hob before, skirting about the palace bitterly as he carries his head in his hands much like a dullahan. He's old, even by fae standards, with a long beard. There's no question as to how the man died, beheading. You hope it was quick.
His beady eyes glare at you with a quiet rage similar to how most fae spirits do. You wonder how long he has been like this, refusing to board the carriage of any dullahan that may come to collect him and bring him to the Otherworld.
You personally believe that faeries leave behind ghosts more than humans do.
It's why you've often seen ghosts from a distance at revels, dancing from dawn til dusk even if they will not be perceived by the living. Even if they can no longer don the fancy dresswear they were able to dress in.
Time and time again, they will do this. Staunchly refusing death even after they're already in its hold.
"Oh, is there a ghost with us?" The prince notes how your eyes dart between him and the space he perceives as empty. "What's it saying?"
"Tell this lout that I sooner hope his rule is contemptuous and brings the Court to ruin!" The hob's head seethes. "That his many days are fraught with danger! Gakuganji is my name and this is the curse I cast upon him!"
Folk can't lie, but you you prefer not to relay the bitter message. "He hopes your rule is one that is," you lick your lips and raise your cup to your lips. "Filled with exciting thrills," not an exact lie. Perhaps to this radical prince, those sorts of threats are exciting. "He says his name is Gakuganji."
"Exciting thrills, you say?" The prince barks in amusement, shoulders shaking with his laughter. "That doesn't sound like the traitorous scoundrel I know. You don't have to lie, he's probably cursing me and my bloodline for generations to come as we speak." The hob growls at the lackadaisical nonchalance of the elf. But it seems he has had his fill as he stomps off before he can hear more insult to his person.
"Gakuganji has lost his touch even in death," the prince's amused chuckles turn into light sighs "You wouldn't have liked him very much when he was alive," you're sure you can agree with that much of the prince's words. Gakuganji, as you now know him, has been one of the more unpleasant spirits in the palace. "He was very stuck in his ways. What's it like, seeing ghosts all the time?"
Normal?
You can't quite remember what it was like when you were a newly-made banshee and everything was new. Nor can you remember the life you once led as a human. You simply remember your death was a terrible, terrible thing. "It's as normal to me as it's normal for you not to see them," you set your cup down. "If someone asked you what's it like to see the blue sky everyday, it would be a strange question, correct?"
The prince takes in your words thoughtfully, not slighted in the least. "I guess that's true," he nods to himself. "I just wondered if it was something that took some getting used to." The prince removes his darkened spectacles from the bridge of his nose. "I told you before I have pretty good eyes. I'm able to perceive a lot of things no one else can from mana to the shape of one's soul. But the spirits of the deceased are exceptions to my eyes, it seems."
"Your Highness," you begin.
"Satoru," the prince corrects you swiftly.
"Your Highness," you insist. This boundary you won't cross for yourself. "I'm not sure it's really wise for you to tell me about your eyes. I'm not a member of this family or your closest allies."
"But you will be," he tells you as if he's simply remarking on how pleasant the weather is. "I will become king of this Court and you'll be by my side as my queen." You're quite sure that if his mother, the High Queen, has anything to say about it, she'd sooner relinquish her throne to a random nixie than allow a banshee to wed her son. "I trust you as much as I trust Suguru or Nanami."
You wish he wouldn't.
A Seelie prince and his banshee queen? That sounds like the start to a ballad meant to insult him.
It's misplaced gratitude, not love. That's what this prince feels for you. You tell him as such once again as you have everyday since you were brought here. "You'll realize that soon, maybe even before the revel you plan for me," you whisper ăƒŒ no, you pray. "There will be another you yearn for and you'll realize the difference."
The prince will fall deeply, truly, unapologetically in love with someone and he'll discover the truth.
Perhaps it will be a lake maiden of Spring whose dreadlocks drip with water droplets that fall onto dewy cinnamon-brown skin. Who sings of the beautiful red and pink of the roses and of love.
Or maybe it will be a selkie man who doesn't mind living far from the sea as he's brought a love as deep as the ocean along with him. Whose coat is donned in scars and scratches from battles past, a reflection of his form as a seal.
Or maybe he can grow enraptured with his phouka advisor whom he trusts more than anyone in this life.
Someone dyed in Life's colors.
Someone beautiful.
When that time comes, you'll be happy for him. Maybe then the ache that resonates through your heart and bones will end.
The prince isn't the only fool here, you admit reluctantly. You're just as much, if not more so. But this feeling will come to pass, "this is just gratitude. Fascination. Not love."
"You think I don't love you?" The prince asks quietly, resting his chin on his palm as he looks at you. He says he has good eyes, he wonder what you look like to him through them. You who once was dyed in Life's colors but have since become painted over by Death's brush.
Death folk with death folk.
Life folk with life folk.
"I know you don't," he can't. You can't allow either of yourselves to do so. "A banshee by your side as queen," you want it sound ridiculous to both of your ears. "It's absurd."
There are no rules that state your union is forbidden, this you know. But the laws of nature are simple. Life and Death co-exist separately, unable to exist without one another. But there has never been a tale where the two joined together as one.
Maybe you're just too scared to be the first.
"I want the woman that I love by my side as queen," the prince replies smoothly. "Your species is of little importance to me. All that matters is that my love is returned in full. Please, allow me to be yours," he reaches for your hand once more, stepping out of his chair in favor of sitting on bended knee. "More than anyone has or ever will, I love you. This is an unwavering truth."
The blood of the love-talker must run through his veins. Why else do you feel like this? Your desire for this prince will eat away at you until you become undone and return to nothing. "You're a prince. It's the duty of the royal family to provide heirs," even the smallest sprite knows this to be fact. "Are you asking me to stay with you and have them?"
"Please have my children," azure stares seriously into your pale eyes that were once [color] when you were human.
Your skin feels warm at his unabashed request.
Gojou Satoru has no shame, that you have become sure of in the near month of knowing one another.
He had no shame when he asked you to be his bride when you first met.
There was no shame to be found when he insisted that you stay in the palace as an honored guest he owes his life to.
Nor is there any shame to be found in him now when he cups your cheek in his furnace hot hands to guide your lips down to his, long white lashes fluttering shut.
I shouldn't, your mind screeches at you. I shouldn't allow us to get even one millimeter closer. Yet you make no move to do so as your lips are just barely touching whenăƒŒ
"Your Highness, your mother is requesting you," Nanami's mild-mannered drawl saves you at the last minute.
You jerk back into your chair in relief, heart pounding. You aren't able to make eye contact with anyone, least of all the overworked horned elf-kobold hybrid brought to receive the Gojou heir.
The prince clicks his tongue in annoyance, glaring over his shoulder at the advisor, "she can't wait? We haven't even begun eating yet."
Nanami looks just as annoyed to be there, "the faster you heed her call, the quicker you can go back to fawning after the object of your desires." He tells his prince. "And the faster I can get back to resting."
The prince with snow-white hair clicks his tongue once more, but he doesn't argue against it. He turns to you regretfully, "I'll have to leave again. Perhaps we'll have more time together at dinner," you hope the wait for dinner is longer still. You know the prince hopes the time passes as quickly as he can blink.
Warm lips press against the back of your hand, lingering for five seconds longer than they should.
The bones of your hands ache.
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Extra:
Title comes from a Nizar Qabbani poem: [Your love / Oh you with fathomless eyes / Is extreme /mystic / holy / Your love, like birth and death / is impossible to repeat]
My favorite bit in this is having the reader refused to call Gojou by name even in the narrative dialogue, in a futile attempt to keep distance between you both. I hope you guys found that riveting as well
Part 2? Should there be one? Perhaps there should be... y'all let me know
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chogiwow · 3 days
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for well and for good | park sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader
genre: angst
wc: 1k
warnings: allusions to a toxic past relationship (sunghoon and unnamed ex), crying (a lot), hurt-no-comfort fic, heartbreak; sunghoon realises his feelings for you too late
a/n: all i want is to break hearts <3
a/n pt 2: umm, not a solid plot but more so like a scene building concept?
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there wasn’t a more heartbreaking moment than this, not for sunghoon; not even when the consequences of his actions that led him here had played out exactly as you had warned him it would.
now it was too late, and beg as he might, a heavy feeling in his chest slowly settled against his favour, a premonition turning true and cry as much as he wanted, everything was spiralling out of control so fast, he wasn’t sure who he should save first.
“(y/n)...(y/n) please, i can’t do this, i can’t live without you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please don’t leave, i need you
i love you.”
the more he weeped for a lost cause, the more it hurt your chest and ripped you apart piece by piece but you made no attempts at stopping the pain.
everyone had always assumed that you and sunghoon would be the endgame. it was so obvious! you both were head over heels for each other, but of course, of course the heart wavers ever so often now and then. sunghoon let himself ignore all the signs, pretend that the affection and sweet words weren’t another ploy for his wealth, his looks, his popularity, the safety and love he was so willing to provide someone, because he was always so very generous. generous and ridiculously naive; always looking to give away a piece of himself to anyone who so much as asked for it.
and a man in love is hard to sway again, especially when the man is sunghoon, with his giving nature and so much love that filled his heart that he couldn’t contain it any longer.
words were said – spit almost venomously at the cost of saving face and pride, and how dare you question his love and hers, when you had no business? how dare you make assumptions about this beautiful woman who loved him – at least he hoped she did – as much as he did?
and then
and then everything you said came true. your warnings carefully etched themselves like knife carvings on a paper – vehemently and so very stubbornly irreversible. now he’s here, after months of grieving not just the loss of his trust in love, but also you. and he had to make things right, but how does one convince a person they've broken and trampled upon so mercilessly, that they are indeed in love with them?
how does sunghoon convince you that he’s so utterly in love with you that he could physically feel the pain of your pointed ignoring and cold looks? how does he even begin to express how sorry he was when the unsaid apology squeezed the breath out of him in aggrieved pants? how does sunghoon not lose you again?
“”i’m sorry hoon, i can’t do this anymore. i can’t love you anymore, i don’t want to love you anymore
you’ve hurt me too much.”
“(y/n) please, please i beg you,”
and beg he did; getting down on his knees on the cold tile floors of your living room, he wrapped his arms around your waist and dampened your shirt with his hot tears. neither he nor you were making much sense of this conversation anymore.
he felt you shake in his embrace, your own tears and gasps of air breaking his chants of an apology, his hands tightening around you to physically feel your touch after months.
“hoon stop it,” a wretched sob, ugly as it sounded when it tumbled out of your lips in pain, like a helpless rotten fruit falling off its branches, makes you whimper and clutch onto the clinging man's hand who refused to let you go.
in a hurried motion sunghoon is up on his feet, holding you by the shoulder that shakes with the cries staining your cheeks.
“i can’t live without you, please give me another chance,” he shakes his head frantically, mumbling out his words in a frenzy as he is yet again painfully reminded of exactly how weighted his words were and how much truth they held in them. it weighed him down, your refusal to look past this, like a sack of cotton drowning in water, and yet he could not bring himself to blame you, hoping against hope that his words would make a change.
his lips find your forehead, pressing down on them in a hot kiss; the trembling of his lips breaks you, you wish would stop – but he doesn’t. he’s kissing your shoulder, your arms, your wrists, your palms and he’s kissing your forehead – again and again and again and again – until you push yourself away, your eyes closed, shaking your head.
“don’t, it’s time we stopped this. we can’t hope for things that were never meant to be.”
sunghoon was standing on the edge of a cliff, and you just pushed him off into a bottomless pit that made his insides curl into themselves, his hands shooting in the air for something to grasp but there’s only air that passes through his fingers like bullets.
in his last attempt he kisses you on the lips. he holds your face so gently and kisses you so deeply and for a moment you feel yourself swaying. you let him kiss you, because you know this would be the last time you would let this happen. you whimper into his mouth and he lets a broken sob tumble on your lips where it stays as a reminder of this very moment, searing you both apart. you don’t kiss back.
“stop it, please. you’re hurting me.” it’s a whispered plea, but to sunghoon it’s a huge boulder that blocks his way from you. you’ve planted it there for once and for all, and he knows that there’s nothing he can do to make you move it.
“i’m sorry, i love you, but i don't want to anymore. i’m sorry.” 
sunghoon rests his forehead against yours, your tears mingled and continuous and he knows he’s lost you now, for well and for good.
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