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excalibur-gone-missing · 11 days

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Paring: jeonghan x you

Requested: yes [Can you please write something angsty for prince DK? Or if this is too vague, what do you think about a bet au with Jeonghan?] [By anon]

Genre: angst, coworkers to lovers, fluff, fuckboy au, opposites au, bet au

Warning(s): misogyny, jeonghan is an asshole and so is seungcheol, [if you find more pls inform ]

Summary: Jeonghan had plans on never talking to the quite coworker they hired, but like doesn't always pan out the way we want to. But when you add money to the problem, plus both your feelings, you have the perfect recipe for disaster.

Word count: 5.2k

Other works

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask. Plus, if you loved it enough don't forget to reblog, it will help me reach a larger audience.

a/n 2: i hope it was what you wanted, thanks for the ask btw!

Everyone at the office knew that Jeonghan was a free spirit, he worked hard and partied even harder. He like living his life in the most happening way possible. Be it weekend trips, bike trips to the mountains or staying in the countryside for a week and working remote while enjoying the serenity that comes with it, he was down for anything.

Funnily enough he was referred to as the least energetic person in his friend group. So, one can imagine overzealous they normally were.

His work more often than not was impeccable, no one could fault him at all. The rising star of the corporate world they called him at the office. In his five years at the job the man had garnered more approval than anyone else.

He liked his life, and he would not trade it for anything else.

Now, unlike Jeonghan you resided on the other side of the spectrum. Your kind of life was pretty monotonous waking up before your alarm, making your bed, skipping meals, and surviving on coffee, reaching, and leaving work on the dot and crying while rewatching your favorite shows, was your kind of life. You like staying in during the weekends and cleaning up the mess you make in your living space during the weekdays and trying everything in your power to not upset your cat while doing so.

Its calm, chill, maybe a bit boring but it worked for you and brought you peace.

You were the newest recruit in your office and from the first day you captured the attention of most of your coworkers for your meticulous and polite words.

More often than not you refuse to talk to your coworkers ensuring that there stays a professional boundary between you all and if they would not catch onto your behavior, you would politely decline them.

Never that interested in networking, you refuse to talk to more people than you need to.

Jeonghan caught onto it pretty early, but why did it matter to him what you did, so like everyone else he went on his own way and simply chose to ignore you.

Ten months into your new job was when you first had a real conversation with the man. It was pretty late at night, both of you had to stay back for overtime. That was when you saw him struggling with his presentation for the next day’s meeting.

That day you broke the ‘no talking to my coworkers rule unless and until it’s very important’ rule.

“what’s the problem?” you politely asked the man.

“Oh, I am having slight problem with the numbers here,” the man replies looking visibly confused and surprised.

“If you want, I can help you out” you kindly stated as Jeonghan casually just turned his laptop towards you.

So, for the next one and half hours you both sat there and diligently worked on the presentation and by the end of it the material looked rather good and presentation worthy.

Looking extremely grateful the pretty man said, “I am so thankful you helped me out today, so why don’t I repay you by dropping you off at your house, it’s pretty late you know.”

Looking at your watch you politely replied, “no worries, plus if I rush a bit, I can catch the last bus home so please don’t bother.”

Jeonghan looked bummed at this, but he was obliged nonetheless as he knew you to be an introverted lady and he did not want to make you uncomfortable.

The next time you and Jeonghan had a conversation, was again at a night when you both were staying at the office over time. By this time, you have become pretty comfortable with each other, not enough to hold a conversation but enough to spare a quick nod and a smile while passing by each other’s cubicles.

He was done with the day’s work and was about to leave the office when he noticed you hunched over your laptop looking frustratingly at your screen which showed you an open excel sheet with infinite numbers.

Feeling like he owed you the help, Jeonghan strode towards you and calmly said “let me see.”

Jumping in shock you looked at him and replied, “oh no don’t bother I can figure it out you should go home it’s pretty late you know.”

Tsking at your reply he grabbed a chair to sit beside you while saying “it’s only fair, you helped me out so I should help you now.”

You let him, in actuality you needed that little help from him, the data entries were annoying you and you absolutely did not like it one bit.

Just like that time passed by again resulting in the clock to show that it was quarter past one by the time you both were done.

This time though Jeonghan shut down all your protests to go about his own way and your reluctance to inconvenience him with a simple “it’s pretty late and I won’t let you get followed by some creeps on the road plus the last bus is gone anyways so you are coming with me.”

On the way he stopped at a convenience store to get some dinner for you both and you devoured your ramen while chatting with him.

You both were pretty similar, in some cases for example you both had this extreme love for Legos that existed beyond measurable amounts, both of you loved your pets to death, albeit his was a rock and yours was a cat, but as he said “we don’t discriminate peoples pets here, they can have what they want to but given its legal and safe for the pet.”

On the other hand, Jeonghan liked you too, he was happy he could be the first one to break your shell to meet the real you and he was proud of this. It was close to an achievement for him.

“Han like this new chick in his office.”

Joshua loudly announced to the group of boys sprawled in his living room one evening. Jeonghan’s friends had come to his house to hang out and to get drunk out of their wits to forget the stress of the tedious weekend they had. They were all friends from college, now working jobs in the most contrasting industries ever like Seungcheol was the manager for their states football club and Soonyoung was a choreographer working with famous celebrities, Hansol on the other hand was the proud of a pet shelter and the one and only Joshua was an English history professor who most days worked overtime at the university. But at the end of the day, they were all the loud and obnoxious assholes he knew and loved from his younger days, and nothing could compare to that.

“Really you never told us about this one hyung?” Mingyu enquires.

“Nah she is just a new hire at the office, does not like talking to people at all. She is more antisocial than Wonwoo’s ass.”

“Really now, antisocial?” Seungcheol enquires, not missing Jeonghan’s defensive tone.

“Yes, Cheol antisocial, plus I don’t even know her enough,” the male says while rolling his eyes at his friends interest with you.

“Maybe you could talk to her and get her out of her shell, you are a pretty good mediator in our group I think you could do that,” pipes up the ever so benevolent Seokmin.

“Yes, you could,” Seungcheol joins him smirking a bit.

Now thoroughly annoyed Jeonghan exclaims “no I cannot. The only way someone can get that stuck up bitch out of her shell will be fucking her or something and I do not want to do so!”

“What if I pay you, will you do it then,” Seungcheol says still smirking.

“Do what?”

“Fuck her enough to get her out of her shell.”

The whole room goes silent at that statement.

“Hyung, I don’t think it’s right,” the youngest of them, Chan, suddenly speaks.

“Yes, its morally incorrect man,” Jeonghan agrees.

“I will pay you, plus life is pretty boring. This will give us something to talk about for at least the next year,” the oldest explains still smiling a bit.

“I agree with the others, its emotionally taxing and nothing good will come out of doing something like this man, plus what are we teenagers making bets about emotionally harming others?” Joshua says.

“Jeonghan, you do it and I will give you a thousand bucks,” the oldest says calmly. At the same time all the men in the room let out an exasperated sigh, knowing there is no winning with this stubborn man, while hoping silently that Jeonghan does not succumb to the greed.

But alas they were wrong, so wrong. An amount that lucrative will only be passed by a fool and Jeonghan was no such thing. He stood up from his place at the loveseat and confidently strode over to Seungcheol.

“You better keep your fucking word,” he says while shaking the older man’s hand.

While Seungcheol smiles and says, “you know what you complete the bet within the next six month I’ll give you a five thousand and if you don’t end up doing it, you gotta pay me pal.”

After that evening with his friends, Jeonghan was pretty stressed, because why should he not be? Making you sleep with him is hard enough, but making a situationship out of it sounds even harder. Now he thoroughly regrets accepting the bet.

You on the other hand are pretty happy and quiet as you often are. Very much unaware of his internal turmoil, as you keep talking excitedly about the new Lego death star you bought.

Yes, you and Jeonghan have bonded quite a bit these past few days, he likes spending time with you too, and so do you. It is a nice and comfortable friendship you both have built, and you like it.

“Why don’t you let me come to your place this weekend, and we can build the set together. We can get takeout later too,” he suddenly speaks up shocking you with such forward proposition.

“Well only if you want to though no pressure, it’s just that I really wanted to build the death star and was planning to buy it but like couldn’t make enough time to do –”

“Sure, you can come,” you speak up stopping his nervous rant.

“Are you sure?” Jeonghan asks just to make sure he heard it correctly.

“Yes, I am, it will be fun to build the Lego set together,” you say smiling.

“Yes, it would be, but like are you really sure,” he says again to make sure he is really not hard at hearing.

“Jeonghan if you ask me once again, I will take back what I just said.”

This makes him stop talking at all and he proceeds to show you his beautiful smile, making you feel a bit giddy inside.

“So, I will come this Saturday and we shall make the death star cuz we can,” he sings, making you bark out a laugh at him.

Little do you know you just poured a cool bucket of water on the burning flames on anxiety inside Jeonghan’s brain and he is extremely happy about that.

The next Saturday comes rolls in slowly, the tedious and boring week is over, and it is time for self-care and a lot of friendship building activities or that’s what you thought.

The man was mad and when you say mad you mean it. The Lego making only lasted for like two hours before he had hidden all the pieces of the part that you were making, resulting you to search for them all over the house. Moreover, after diligently searching and finding nothing, you had given up when he had produced all those pieces from his pockets shocking you to the core.

This little stunt had made you force him to pay for the takeout and when you were both fed and watered, he had proposed a game of chess. Only problem, you never knew one could cheat in this game too. He moved the pieces wrong.

Result. You both had the pettiest fight ever wherein the man with all his might tried to convince you that the rook was indeed supposed to move diagonally.

“You don’t understand, that is how the game is played. Are you sure you ever played this before?” he had asked.

“Hani you are wrong, please the rook never in its whole life moved diagonally, it always moved straight.”

“Maybe that is what your problem is, you are so uptight, you refuse to accept the differences in our opinions!”

“Oh, now I'm uptight, you are only being this difficult cuz you are losing!”

“I wouldn’t if you let me play the rook diagonally.”

“But that is not how it is played! Why don’t you—"

All your rants stop just like that, it took you at least five business days to actually realize that Jeonghan had kissed you. But once you got over that shock, you closed your eyes and moved your lips along with his.

Jeonghan, thoroughly exasperated by your intense argument, impulsively sought to quiet you by placing a soft, lingering kiss on your plump lips. Almost immediately, regret washed over him as he feared he had acted rashly at the worst possible moment. Mentally preparing to distance himself from you for the rest of your time together, he was taken aback when you reciprocated the kiss, instantly dissolving all his worries and leaving him pleasantly surprised.

You broke the kiss to take a breath, both looking visibly flustered.

“Do you want to stay the night, or do you want to go?” you asked him while looking at him with your sparkling eyes, making Jeonghan want to glue his ass to your house, but he being the gentleman he was declined the offer.

“I would really like to take you out on a date. As I really like you, so I won’t spoil my chances with you by staying tonight.”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. You always thought of the man to be a Casanova, so the idea of him taking you on a date while simultaneously insinuating that he won’t take any harsh steps with you was a nice little change and you were all for it.

It was all smooth sailing after that.

Jeonghan took you to an amusement park for the date next Sunday and oh boy did you enjoy yourself to the fullest.

Both of you had the time of your lives. Making sure to go on every ride, play every game and eating every junk you found there. By the end of it you were visibly exhausted and elated with how the day went.

The following day you were visibly happier in the office and even had a small conversation with one of your coworkers.

This went on for the following month, with each and every date you opened up to Jeonghan more and more, and so did he.

He loved spending time with you and vice versa. It was during your regular Friday movie nights, a ritual you both had established as you both liked watching movies and bonded while talking about them, when Jeonghan absolutely bored with the movie scooted a bit too close to you in hopes of gaining your attention by annoying you, a typical Jeonghan move. When you both ended up making love on the couch.

This was only the start of a lot of escapades you would have with the man.

After that one night, Jeonghan was all over you at all times. Be it at the office or be it at home he was with you or texting you all the time. Your nights were now filled with heavy make outs and intense love making sessions.

Everybody at the office knew about you both. On top of that you were more extroverted than ever. You even went out with your coworkers for an office dinner. Somehow, Jeonghan was praised for the change he brought in you, and like his ‘kind’ self, he declined all those compliments with a gracious smile.

He didn’t like to say it out loud, but he liked your changed self, more than your reserved one. Plus, he also took credit for the change, but it’s not like he would tell you that anytime soon.

It was almost five months into dating Jeonghan, when he asked you to meet his friends. You knew he had a very loyal group of friends and you had never met them before. On the contrary Jeonghan had met your one and only best friend within only three months of dating. In the most best friend manner, the lady has hated his ass the whole-time side eyeing him constantly and leaving petty remarks here and there. But that night she had called you and told you something she didn’t ever say for any of your boyfriends “I can see he loves you a lot. For the first time you chose the correct guy.”

Getting your strict best friend to like Jeonghan was like clearing the first hurdle of your relation. For the first time, you were proud of your choice in men and especially your boyfriend.

“Oh, I would love to meet them, but would they like me,” you were rightfully concerned about the boys liking you. As much as you were independent, you would like to gain the approval of your boyfriend’s friends like any girlfriend.

“They are dorks through and through, they will love, don’t worry” he had said while kissing your forehead to calm you down.

“Plus, you will fit right in, they are nice people,” he later added.

That evening, Jeonghan had taken you to the Korean BBQ place downtown where they all were meeting. The night had started rocky but within an hour you were having fun with Mingyu and Seokmin, all worries forgotten. Jeonghan had looked at you with pride blooming in his chest with how happy you looked with his friends, enjoying yourself.

It seems that all the twelve of them had liked you a lot saying you were the perfect partner for Jeonghan, someone who could ground him at the same time let him be himself.

The BBQ party came to an end, but the boys still had a lot of energy, so they went to the karaoke next taking both you and Jeonghan with them. Although you were thoroughly exhausted, you had complied to go, seeing Jeonghan have so much fun was a sight you didn’t want to miss.

You had gone to the bathroom the first thing right after reaching the karaoke place, to wake you up and also to do your business. Seungkwan had accompanied you claiming, “all that soju and walking has made my bladder shake like never before!” it’s not a lie though, they did drink like it will be the last time they ever get to drink.

As you came out of the restroom, Seungkwan gave you a kind smile and said “I have never seen Jeonghan this happy before, not even with us. I'm sure he likes you a lot.”

Smiling at him you said, “I think I love him; I have not said that to him yet, but I really think I do.”

With a sassy ‘good for you’ from the one and only Boo, you both made your way to the room that your group had booked.

As you reached closer, you could hear all the boys talking to each other.

“I approve, she is an angel, she even consoled Soon when he cried” said one of them making you smile a bit. By this time Seungkwan had stopped with you too eavesdropping on his friends as he is as dramatic as one can be.

“She is nothing like what you described her to be you know, she is nice and kind and far from being stuck up,” someone else said.

“Nah she is not, that stuck up once you get to know her, contrary to that she is very cheery and I like her you know,” Jeonghan had replied making you feel extra giddy inside.

“Hey bro if you like her that much maybe we should call off the deal we made, I see how much you like her and if you ask me, I will say she is a keeper,” with this statement, a silence washed over the whole group. You looked at Seungkwan to understand what was happening, but the man refused to look at you still stubbornly pretending to listen to the conversation.

“I said I like her, not like her enough to let go of the five thousand you offered” you suddenly heard Jeonghan speak making you even more confused about the whole ordeal.

“I think you will regret it you let her go hyung,” Seokmin suddenly said with a very somber tone generating a lot of assertive noises from the group.

“She won’t bring me five thousand, plus I fucked her got into a relationship with her and made her the fun-loving bitch she is now. It was a tedious process, but I completed my work, so I deserve the money.”

It was hard hearing the man you loved so much make such a degrading comment. At this point you were shaking with emotions so much that even Seungkwan who refused to look at you during this whole time, had to hold you steady.

“Did you know about this,” you asked him.

The boy with his eyes downcast just nodded his head.

“I won’t even ask you why you didn’t tell me about it, I get it you are his friend makes sense.”

“Hey none of us wanted him to do anything like this, but your Jeonghan is unstoppable sometimes and about the wrong things.”

“I think I should get going, I’ve heard enough.”

“Hey y/n we like you a lot, so please stay in contact with us later, no matter what your verdict is,” the younger man pleaded with glistening eyes, making you almost accept the request out of pity.

You ignored everyone and strode into the room bustling with men, heading straight for the couch. Without hesitation, you grabbed your bag and, as you walked out, approached Jeonghan and delivered a firm slap to his face. "We're done," you declared before exiting the room without glancing at anyone else.

The minute you had left, Jeonghan felt his life crashing down on him. The looks of disapproval from his friends and the pure disappointment that radiated off you caught him off guard. He had thought he could get out of it with both the girl and the money, but suddenly he realized he didn’t even need the said money, he only needed you. The weight of his words came to haunt me as soon as he had spoken them.

He immediately attempted to follow you but was stopped by Seungkwan, “did you see her face, if you follow her now, she will resent you more. Not like you don’t deserve it, but you are still my friend.”

The tone of his voice showed how much he was upset with Jeonghan. So much so that the younger male could not even look at his face.

“You are my hyung, but you know what I like her more, never have I ever thought you would do something like this,” he continued, “I hope she never forgives you.”

Hearing that Jeonghan couldn’t control himself and punched Seungkwan and a fight broke out. The boys trying their best to resolve it.

“It’s already a mess, can you both stop making it worse!” Mingyu said as Seungkwan punched Jeonghan back square on the jaw.

“Tell that shit to not meddle in my business then” comes Jeonghan’s voice.

“Maybe if you didn’t break her heart I wouldn’t, she was a fucking nice person,” Seungkwan shouted back as Mingyu dragged him out.

The night was ruined, and it was all because of Jeonghan.

That night you came home and cried your heart out ignoring all the calls from Jeonghan and the other boys, with whom you had exchanged numbers during the hangout. Thankfully, it was a Sunday the next day, so you didn’t have to look at the man who broke your heart, but it pained you so much to even move a muscle. It was like your heart was ripped out of your body. The pain was immeasurable.

There were at least a hundred missed calls on your phone and thirty of them from all of the boys. Your best friend come to your place that Sunday and tried her best to console a sad you, but nothing could stop you from beating yourself up for trusting a man like him. it’s true you loved him, and you regrated doing so, you didn’t blame Jeonghan for breaking your heart, you blamed yourself for being weak enough for you to let Jeonghan do so to you, for letting the man step all over you like you were a piece of trash that had no place in the normal world. The degrading things that he had said about you kept echoing in your ears, making it hard for you to think of anything else.

It was like you had forgotten all about your vow to never let anyone step over you and take away a piece of you from yourself. You were so hurt that you refused to see Jeonghan at all. So, on the next Monday you asked your HR for a weeklong leave and the kind lady obliged owing to your stellar performance at your department.

You turned off your phone that week and went to stay with you friend as the house was too lonely for you and the more you stayed there, the more you felt the memories of you and Jeonghan coming to haunt you.

On that Monday, Jeonghan woke up with a newfound determination. He was resolved to confront you and explain that his hurtful words from that night stemmed from his own inability to accept his feelings. He believed that once he clarified his side of the story, your compassionate nature would lead you to forgive him. He was even prepared to humble himself, willing to beg for your forgiveness if necessary. However, fate intervened when he discovered you had taken a week-long leave from the office.

The realization of consequences hit him suddenly. Yes, he understood the gravity of his actions, but he was willing to face any repercussions if it meant having you back in his arms. Anything seemed bearable compared to the thought of losing you.

By Wednesday, Jeonghan found himself standing at your doorstep, desperately knocking, hoping to speak with you. To his dismay, a neighbor informed him that you had been absent since Monday. His heart sank realizing he had missed his chance to reconcile with you.

He had made a solemn vow to himself that he would reach out to you no matter what obstacles lay in his path, willing to go to any lengths to make amends. However, he now realized the depth of his mistake. Reflecting on his actions, he understood that he should have heeded the advice of his friends earlier, but it was too late for regrets.

Jeonghan's determination to win you back consumed him. He felt a deep pang of regret for not acting sooner and for failing to appreciate the warnings from his friends. Now, facing the reality of your absence, he grappled with the weight of his impulsive behavior.

In the days that followed, Jeonghan resolved to wait patiently for your return, determined to seize any opportunity to make things right. He hoped against hope that he hadn't irreparably damaged the bond between you. Each passing day without you served as a sobering reminder of the importance of listening to his instincts and valuing the counsel of those who cared about him.

The next week you opened your phone to see it has blown up with Jeonghan’s messages and there were a few from Seungkwan asking you if you are okay and telling you that he had punched Jeonghan for being an asshole to you and that most of the people didn’t agree with Jeonghan’s antics but its hard to stop Jeonghan when is like that.

Taking pity of the boy you and answered him accepting his apology and telling him you were happy that he punched the guy.

His answer came immediately, saying he was happy that there is no bad blood among you two and he prefers you more than Jeonghan anyways making you laugh at his cuteness.

When you returned back to the office, the first thing you did was hand them your resignation letter. The next thing on your list was avoid Jeonghan till you leave work, at which you were pretty successful.

And just like that you were done with your time in the office and were moving onto another job before Jeonghan could even get hold of you.

Its has been three years since and life had never been better. You became friends with Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung immediately. You four hangout quite frequently. The three younger men like you a lot too. It’s a strong bond you have created with them. If anyone asks you would say the only good thing that came from your ex was the friends you made while with him.

On top of that you also have been in a relation with a man who treats you right and loves you to death. Its like you have at last reached the light at the end of the tunnel.

Jeonghan on the other hand drowned himself in work after you left, the man tried his best to forget your existence and was very thankful his work helped him do so. But whenever he was out with his friends he couldn’t stop himself from asking about you and always he got the same answer of ‘none of your fucking business’ from Seungkwan.

But it was different this time, it was the ever so kind Seokmin who answered him.

“Hyung she moved on, and you should too.” Hearing that he stood up, he didn’t know why. Would he go to your house and beg for your forgiveness again or will he call you while asking you to give him another chance?

Truth to be told, he didn’t know.

“Hyung please don’t mess this up for her. She is happy,” Seokmin spoke up again, kindly holding his hand to pull him down back onto his seat. It felt like Jeonghan’s life has come crashing down on him once again. One lone tear left his eye, too embarrassed to cry in front of his friends, he puts up a happy front while saying “of course Seok, I would do nothing to hurt her.”

All his friends looked at the man in pity, hoping that faith was kinder to him. but they couldn’t deny that he single handedly destroyed his life either. He was still their friend and he deserved to be happy to but so did you. The man sat in silence for some time till Joshua loudly declared he wanted to go to the arcade and all the others enthusiastically agreed, happy about the distraction.

That is when Jeonghan realized life has gone on and not stopped for anyone, the time he was supposed to seize his moment has passed and it wont ever come back. He now has to live his life without the presence of one of the most precious thing he ever had the privilege to possess, your love.

a/n 3: thank you all for reading !!

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harlowcomehome · 5 months

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Promises and commitments:

Series link!

It had been several weeks since Jack told you to quit your job, you just hadn’t had the guts to do it. It sounded too good to be true, and you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with Jack.

When he had to go back on tour without you, he was frustrated but tried his best to understand your apprehension.

Neelam however, was curious as to why you didn’t accept the offer. Although she was his manager and always felt like it was her job to protect him, she liked you a lot and knew he needed you to balance his life and career better.

“She could be our creative director!” Neelam exclaimed as she, Jack, Urban, and the rest of the team rode to their next destination.

“Ummm- What would that even mean?” Jack wasn’t looking at her, he was distracted, texting you back since he finally had a moment to.

Neelam cleared her throat, waiting for him to look up from his phone before continuing to speak.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and placed the phone face down on his lap.

“She’d work for advertising and marketing for tours, merch designs, and stuff like that. She’d be the creative lead and make strategic decisions for how to move forward with projects, with your input of course.”

“She’d love that. It would give her more freedom than the job she has now.”

“Plus she already has experience with advertising so I don’t feel like it’s much of a stretch” Neelam added.

Urban had been silent this entire time, hoping that nobody would ask for his opinion but the fact that he hadn’t made a peep was concerning to both Jack and Neelam.

“Alright Wyatt, what exactly did Layla tell you?” Neelam narrowed her eyes and pivoted her attention.

“Do we only go by last names now?” Urban joked, trying to change the subject with no luck.

Jack and Neelam were unamused, staring at him with almost no emotion as they waited for him to speak up.

“Layla said that Y/N feels like it’s not a good look. She doesn’t want you to turn around later and feel like she’s using you or used you to benefit herself.”

“Damn,” Neelam bluntly replied.

“What?” Both Jack and Urban frantically questioned, not understanding her reaction.

“That girl really loves you” Neelam laughed, turning to Jack who was left nearly speechless.

“She’d rather be miserable at her job than risk losing you.”

“I mean, I understand her point of view” Urban scratched the back of his neck nervously, worried he was saying the wrong thing.

“I don’t think she realizes how serious I am about her” Jack smirked, leaning back in his seat and earning an “ooooooh” from both Neelam and Urban.

“Pause- are we thinking engagement? Because if so we need to talk PR.” Neelam squealed.

Jack's entire face went pale, “no- I mean, we haven’t even been together a full year yet.”

He was oddly defensive for someone who would marry you tomorrow if given the chance.

“Look at his face!” Neelam and Urban erupted in laughter.

••••

It was finally time for you and Jack to see each other in person and you were thankful as you were starting to feel the effects of the distance.

You had taken a week off work to join him on tour again and it couldn’t come soon enough.

The day before your flight was scheduled Jack wasn’t answering your texts or calls which was unlike him, and you started to grow suspicious. His location was also off which made you wonder what he was up to.

You were working late to make sure you didn’t come back to a chaotic work situation like last time when you suddenly heard a knock on the front window.

You were all alone in your office building and extremely cautious of who you let be aware of that, so you weren’t expecting anyone.

You tiptoed to the front where you heard the knocking, peeking out of the blinds and seeing Jack standing there, in the drizzling rain.

You quickly unlocked the door letting him inside.

“Baby! What’re you?-“ He wasted no time crashing his lips against yours.

It wasn’t until you pulled back from him that you realized he was holding a bag full of food.

“Dinner?” You questioned both excited and hopeful.

“Rice and dumplings” he nodded knowing you’d be starving from likely being too overworked to eat.

You kissed his cheek, before turning and locking the door, motioning for him to follow you back into the conference room you had been working in.

He watched your hips sway back and forth as your heels echoed in the hallway, a birthday gift from him.

His entire body ached as he physically missed being around you.

“Layla told you I was here?”

He didn’t answer you, although he heard you speak. He was too distracted as he took every inch of you in. Your hair was a mess from the day, your eyeliner smudged, your perfume barely lingering on your skin but he continued thinking you were as gorgeous as ever.

You realized he was eyeing you up and down, suddenly embarrassed by your appearance.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you today” You dug in your purse for a hair tie to move your hair away from your face.

“You look beautiful, as always” he hummed setting the bag of food down on the big corporate desk.

You cleared off an area placing your presentation to the side so you and Jack could sit down and eat together.

You took a seat across from him.

“To answer your question, Layla told me the address yes” he subtly took a red gift bag out of the bag, placing it in the seat beside him.

Your eyes followed his hand, wondering what he was hiding.

“Ah! Eat first” his aquamarine eyes lit up, trying to hide his smile, but his dimple betrayed him.

“So demanding” you joked, not wanting to press.

Jack looked around the room, he had only seen the background of this very room a handful of times when you’d FaceTime him or send him pictures.

“I know what you’re thinking” you stifled a laugh before continuing “and yes, this is in fact where the magic happens.”

Jack snorted, knowing you meant that sarcastically as you played footsie with him under the desk.

“I was actually wondering how much weight this table could hold, like one maybe two naked bodies?” He seductively bit his lip, pushing your buttons as usual.

You practically choked on your dumpling making both of you break out into a giggle fit, Jack eventually making no noise which only made you laugh harder.

Jack took your hand in his as you laid it on the table.

“I missed this” you confessed.

“Me too” He shifted in his seat, impatiently grabbing the small gift he had hidden from you moments ago and putting it on the desk.

The red bag was hard to miss, with gold lettering written across the front.

“Cartier? Baby, you didn’t.”

You knew all too well that was not an inexpensive brand.

“Open it” he impatiently begged, his hand began to tremble.

You let go of his sweaty hand, taking a small box out of the bag. You were trying your best not to overthink but your heart was beating so fast you felt like you could physically hear it thumping in your ears.

“It’s not an engagement ring” Jack didn’t mean to say it so quick but he was just as anxious as you were. His face was pale, although his cheeks grew redder by the second.

You opened the box and gasped, nearly choking on your spit.

The ring was breathtakingly beautiful and would easily be the most expensive thing you had ever owned to date.

18K white gold, with a single diamond. 0.02 carats to be exact.

“It’s a promise ring, a promise to always choose you. A promise to be committed to you, and it’s a placeholder until we do get engaged.”

His mouth was dry, he felt like he had swallowed a spoon worth of sand and your lack of words wasn’t helping.

Your hand covered your mouth as you looked over the ring that sat before you surrounded by black velvet cushion.

You couldn’t form words, only closing your eyes and starting to cry as you slipped the ring on your finger, surprised at how it fit perfectly without ever telling him your ring size.

Jack got up and immediately walked over to you, holding you as you embraced him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I love you so much, Jack. So, much.” You whispered into the crook of his neck, your voice cracking before leaving kisses against his neck and jawline.

“Babe, I want you to know how serious I am about you, about us.” He was still nervous, especially being this open and vulnerable about his feelings.

You pulled back to look at him, looking into his eyes as you both felt the intense emotions of love. You leaned in, kissing him passionately and forgetting where you were for a moment.

When you pulled back he took a deep breath, a sigh of relief knowing you felt the exact same way he did.

“I love you so much too” he reassured you with a smile.

“Let’s get out of here?” You wiped your remaining tears from your face, laughing softly at the situation that had just transpired.

“You’re right, we have an early flight to catch.” He winked, before helping you clean up.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow blurb #Jack Harlow series

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pskmonika · 3 months

Text

Sanji x fem reader

I apologize for any grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language

You were a new member of the straw hats, you were strong and kind, which caught the attention of the captain that made you join

You got along with basically everyone, you seemed tough and cold at first, but in reality u were mostly just shy and awkward

But ofc with time that fade away, you got comfy, and they realized how fun and easy going u were, you were gentle and cared for everyone,

But there was one thing that others didn't know, it was how much you secretly liked the blond cook,

You saw a side of him not a lot of people saw, he was very kind, very gentle, the way he softly hums while cooking alone in the kitchen,

The way he was kind and gentle with kids and animals

The way he gave food to anyone in need

And many many other things, you couldn't control your feelings you were in love with sanji

Tho, even with how deeply you loved him, you could never tell him, cause, well it's sanji, he liked way too many women, he kept flirting and complementing women that were... Well, in your opinion far more beautiful then you, why would he even like you for? You didn't want to embarrass him, so you just decided to hide all your feelings away

Yet that didn't stop you from spending a lot of time with him, helping him with dishes, cooking with him, shopping together, and enjoying lots of long talks together, he told you about his past, you told him about yours, you both got really close, the friendship got really strong, yet, that was all...

You didn't mind it tho, you enjoyed every second you spent with him, and you'll always love him, even if he didn't love you,

Little did you know...

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Sanji has always liked women, in his eyes they were beautiful and angelic, he was flattered with the smallest attention they gave him, he wanted to be a gentleman and serve all the beautiful women on the world

Yet deep down he know he doesn't truly love them, he liked them but, he would never be serious with any one of them, and we can see that by the way he stop being all flirty with the women that he thinks may be catching feelings for him, and he doesn't wanna play with their emotions,

Well that was the classic sanji, until he met you, and god only knows the things you've done to him

You were very, different, and the more he got to know you the harder he fell for you

You were the only one who saw him for who he is, you were the only one he can talk to about everything, you comforted him, helped him, listened to him, you were beautiful, you were kind, you were brave,

You were unlike anyone he have ever met

You reminded him so much of his own mother, and the comfort she once made him feel...

Yet, he never gathered enough courage to confess, he didn't want to ruin his friendship with you, you became the closest person to him and he didn't wanna lose that, he was afraid

Afraid of you leaving him after knowing that his feelings goes beyond friendship, 'what if she thinks I just wanna play with her?' He thought, 'what if she thinks I am a weirdo?'

Those thoughts wouldn't leave him mind, no morning no night...

And those feelings bottling up inside him made him incredibly anxious, he didn't just love you, he was crazy in love with you,

And that reflected in many actions you tend to ignore, like his overprotectiveness, or how extremely jealous he got for the smallest things, he would start a fight out of no where just cause a guy sat next to you on the dinner table, let alone when another dared to touch you, he made sure he will regret the second he decided to even look at you,

Yet you always thought it was just, sanji being sanji, he would probably do the same for nami or robin, right?

You were honestly too blind to even realize how different he was with you, in a good way ofc

Even some of your nakama started to notice, the girls, franky, and even brook, it was so obvious how different the cook acted in your presence, how much he was focusing on you, like you were all that is important on this earth at that moment,

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Nothing ever changed between you too, you were both burning inside yet acting like it was all okay when you are with each other, well until that day,

There was a huge party going on in a certain island that you landed on, a lot of well known pirates were there, it was in a huge disco, everyone was having fun, dancing, drinking, laughing and so were you, Everything was okay until u went to the bathroom quickly and when you came back you saw that

3 girls from the party were sitting around sanji, he was having the biggest nose bleed as expected, their hands were all over him, his chest his thigh...

And they were really pretty, so so pretty, wearing such a revealing sexy clothes, who would blame him for being in such stat?

You have made your self get used to this long time ago, yet, today, for some reason, you couldn't, you've never felt such a pain in your entire life, it was like someone just stabbed you with a burning knife, it hurt, it was suffocating, you couldn't breath

So you just walked out as fast as you can, you made your way to the quite back of the disco, it was facing the ocean, you tried to breath but u just couldn't, you felt as if it was all choking you, all at once, everything,

You were out of breath, shaking, and trying to hold in the tears that kept falling off like a river, 'just how embarrassing will it be if someone found you in such state?' You thought, but no matter how much you tried it just got worst, it felt like everything you were holding in, came crushing you all at once,

"(Y/n)?" You didn't notice brook who was also out there for some reason, you could barely recognize him with your teary eyes, you quickly ran to him and hugged him while sobbing, you needed warmth, you needed someone

Brook was beyond worried, he never saw you in such a state, a million question was running through his head "(y/n)! W-what happened?" He said while holding you even closed then you was

You just continued crying, it felt too much, way too much, "s-sanji" you told him with a weak voice, too weak from all that crying "what did he do?"

"B-brook!! Brook I love him, I love him so much" you just couldn't stop crying, you hated how pathetic you probably looked right now, but it was beyond your control,

Brook just continued hugging you, rubbing your back, trying to help you with any form of comfort "then tell him" he said "I actually think he like you too"

"Him? Liking me?" You said laughing sarcasticlly "look at me! I am basic and awkward and and I am not as pretty as he want, I am not sexy I am not-" you just continued crying as you confessed all the thoughts you hid for too long "I am nothing like them"

Little did you know that there was another one listening to the whole conversation

Sanji's heart was experiencing some kind of pain he never felt, he felt as if his heart was gonna burst, he saw you when you went out of the bathroom, he pushed the girls away and was gonna come to you when he noticed you walking away really fast, so he just followed you out, and he was so confused and scared when he saw you in a such a state, and just when he was about to walk out the door and ask you what's wrong he heard you talking to brook, and then, you said his name,

And in a few minutes, everything was clear,

Women tears always made sanji feel so much rage, but, now hearing the woman he love the most cry, because of him, was unbearable, if it was in another situation he would be far too happy to know that you love him, but seeing you like this, it made him feel so much pain, too much pain

"(Y/n)" you looked up once again, this time, it was him "sanji"

"I'll be inside" brook said giving you a small pat on the head before he left

You looked away while wiping out your tears, your heart was beating fast, all you thought about was 'did he hear anything?' "What are you doing here sanji, just go back in ill be right back-"

suddenly, you felt sanji warm embrace before you could even finish your sentence, his hands were shaking so hard and you felt his heart beating so fast,

"I am sorry (y/n), I am sorry I am so sorry" it was all surprising to you, you couldn't even think well at this moment, you felt his tears falling over your back as he hugged you even closer, hugged you as if you were going to slip away at any moment, "I love you (y/n)! I love you! I am in love with you"

"You love me?" You whispered to him with your weak voice and shaky breath, he pulled away and looked at you straight in the eyes "yes yes (y/n) yes, since the day I know you, you are not like any other girl (y/n)! You are everything I want, I am sorry I was so stupid, I thought- I thought- you won't ever love me, I thought-"

And before he could finish his sentence, you pulled him closer by the collar of his suit that was too messy right now, and kissed him, it was intense, full of love, full of happiness and excitement

"I love you too, sanji"

#sanji headcanons #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece x you #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #anime headcanons #zoro headcanons #luffy headcanons #sanji x you #x reader #one piece

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 3 months

Text

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍

Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.

[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]

MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

“Miles, what would make you hate me?”

The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.

“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”

At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.

“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.

Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.

“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”

“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”

“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”

“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”

He thinks about it for a moment.

“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”

“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”

“No!” He rapidly shook his head.

“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”

“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”

“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”

“Well, you got a chance now.”

“How so?”

“You got me.”

You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.

“… I’ve got you?”

Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?

“F’course you do. We’re friends.”

Friends.

“Friends?” Just friends?

Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”

Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.

Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.

“You want some?”

You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.

“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”

“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”

Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”

“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”

“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”

“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.

“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”

You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.

“You’re welcome, princesa.”

Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”

His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?

You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.

Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.

“Sure, whatever.”

That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.

Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.

The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.

Damn the rich, all of them.

Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.

Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.

When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.

He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.

“Did I make ya wait long?”

A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.

“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”

He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”

A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.

“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”

With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?

“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”

And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.

Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.

“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”

“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”

“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”

“How so?”

Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.

“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”

He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.

The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”

“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”

His head turns. “… I see.”

He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.

“.. So can you tell me?”

A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.

“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.

“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”

Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”

“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”

Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.

What would make him any different from the elites?

“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”

He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”

“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”

“Credible name?”

“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”

The boy swallowed.

“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”

And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’

And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.

“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”

The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”

“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”

Without missing a beat, he answered.

“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”

“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“

“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”

“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”

Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”

With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”

Planned? Planned by who?

Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?

“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”

“Then the Aureum building?”

“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”

Miles pondered and pondered.

“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”

“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”

“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”

Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”

“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”

“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”

It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.

“You know any of their names?”

“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”

Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.

Miles swallowed.

It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”

“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”

“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”

“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”

Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.

“She from the finer part of York or what?”

“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”

Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”

“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”

“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.

“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”

Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”

“It ain’t like that.”

“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”

“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”

“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”

Miles didn’t reply.

As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.

“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.

“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”

“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”

“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”

Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.

“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”

.. Miles left seconds after.

It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.

His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.

He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.

But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.

Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?

An illegitimate child. Which one was it?

Your brothers, who had everything?

Or you, who had nothing?

And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.

And you could still taste blood in your mouth.

You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.

The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.

Snap.

ＳＮＡＰ.

The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.

“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.

Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.

“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.

Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.

Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.

“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”

You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”

The lights dawned upon the both of you.

“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.

You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”

Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”

“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”

You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.

“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”

“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”

You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.

“Is that a threat?”

“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”

You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”

“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”

You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”

“Sure.”

Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.

No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.

But could Miles do it?

Could he actually change you? Humanize you?

Make you kind and loving, and normal?

You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”

“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.

“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”

“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”

You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”

Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”

Oh, so like a normal family?

We were capable of having that this whole time?

…

“[Y/n]?”

You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”

“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”

“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”

The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”

Such a romantic.

“Do you think you can handle it?”

“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”

Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”

“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”

“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”

The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”

Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.

“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”

“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.

Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”

Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”

“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so.”

You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.

A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.

He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.

In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.

Then there was this drumming.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.

You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.

You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.

Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.

Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.

It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.

Really, who are you, [Y/n]?

Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?

And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?

“.. Miles?”

From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.

Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'

Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.

“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”

“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”

His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”

He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.

“.. Nightmare.”

Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.

Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.

“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”

His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”

He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.

You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.

You chose him.

But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?

Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”

Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.

“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”

“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”

“Me duele la cabeza.”

“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”

He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”

“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.

But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?

“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”

Rio sat in silence.

“.. Que?”

Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.

“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“

“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”

“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”

“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”

“Well, ma, it’s just..”

“Did she cheat on you!?”

“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”

“And then?”

“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”

“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”

“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”

“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”

“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”

“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.

“So.. Who’s the girl?”

Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”

“Mhm.”

“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”

��Oh, so she’s an artist?”

Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”

Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.

He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.

But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.

But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.

His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.

“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”

“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”

Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.

“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”

“Oh?”

“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”

“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”

He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.

“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”

“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”

Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.

“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”

Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.

Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.

“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”

The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”

“I can help—“

“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”

“But Ma—“

“Rest.”

And he did.

Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.

her ♡ || two minutes ago.

sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭

remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date

i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad

if you want, we can do it tomorrow.

Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.

So he waited for another five minutes.

.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.

He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.

‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’

“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”

He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.

“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”

‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!

‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’

“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”

It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.

A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.

“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.

He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.

Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.

As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.

He peers through it, before kicking it away.

Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.

But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.

It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.

Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.

Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.

This belonged to his father’s.

He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.

A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.

Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.

It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.

“Miles, do you want juice?”

“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”

His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.

Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.

There was a USB.

“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”

Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.

As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.

The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.

And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.

Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”

You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”

One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.

Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”

“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”

Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”

You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”

Wait. What? WHAT?

Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?

I’m just as shocked as every other person.

“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”

“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”

“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”

“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”

You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.

A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.

You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.

Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.

The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.

It was your own greed that was worsening you.

Your desire to have a tantamount of power.

But what if you never needed it?

“Miss!”

What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?

“Miss [Y/n]!”

.. But what about Miles?

He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.

“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.

Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.

As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.

“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”

“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”

“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”

You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”

The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.

Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.

“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”

The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.

“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”

“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“

Clack.

You turned your head.

What was that?

ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ　ＨＥＲＥ

No shit.

Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.

Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.

“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.

You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.

“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”

Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.

You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”

“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”

You tilted your head.

“Who would you like me to be?”

His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.

[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]

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sneepseverus · 1 month

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Stages of Snape Falling in Love

I had this post sitting in my drafts for a few months and decided to finally finish it. Feel free to add your own thoughts hehe

He's vaguely interested in them as a person.

This feeling is extremely rare for him; most people give him the ick, whether it's considered justified or not. Perhaps they talk too loudly while standing right next to him, chew with their mouth open, are too energetic for him, or are just generally unlikable. Even if they don't have a particularly negative trait, they probably aren't special enough for him to care about.

But then comes along that one person who's actually pleasant to be around. They are aware of their surroundings, humble or at least confident without being cocky, don't push him to engage in small talk or meaningless social interactions, and are overall a decent human being.

At this point, Snape doesn't know much about them other than the fact that they aren't insufferable, but he finds himself staring at them from a distance and listening to their conversations with others without engaging with them one-on-one.

Of course, he would never admit to himself that he sort of, kind of, maybe likes them and instead ignores these feelings.

He becomes irritated by their mere presence.

Maybe they laugh a little too sweetly, maybe they smile a bit too brightly, maybe they're overly kind to everyone they meet, maybe they share the same sense of dry, sarcastic humor, maybe they are highly knowledgeable in a certain field, maybe they're just too perfect! They really need to fucking tone down the likableness for him. It's irrational, but he doesn't know this yet because everything he does is logical, right?

He comes up with excuses and tries to find their faults instead because no one can be perfect. If they trip, they're clumsy and don't pay enough attention. If they need help with something, they're incompetent. If they're kind to everyone they meet, they're naive. If they put effort into their appearance, they're shallow.

Or if they're exactly like him, then he hates them because, well, he hates himself.

Somehow, he realizes he's wrong and tries to make things right.

If he is called out for being too judgmental or makes them upset, he actually feels terrible. He sits at his desk alone, trying to complete work, but he can only think about how much he hurt them.

If he never actually did anything to them, he would eventually come to his senses and still feel like an ass for thinking negatively of them.

Either way, he would would apologize for giving them the cold shoulder (it wouldn't sound very emotional, but it would certainly be sincere), and he would learn to be more patient with them.

He greets them when they pass by each other and finds that he actually likes talking to them. He normally doesn't like small talk, but he enjoys hearing the sound of their voice. If they share similar interests, he would have long talks with them without realizing how much time has passed. At this point, though, he doesn't think too much about his feelings and simply believes he's being cordial.

His thoughts become completely occupied with this person.

All of a sudden, he finds himself thinking about them, especially when they aren't around. He's very observant and can easily imagine them and their idiosyncrasies even if they aren't right in front of him. He tries to focus on whatever he is doing at hand, but they still manage to slip into his mind. "Why am I thinking about them so much?" he wonders. "They're just an acquaintance!" Deep down he knows he likes them, but he's so in denial he won't even consider that he may.

When he realizes he's thinking about them when they are around, he feels as though he just committed a crime.

He even begins to have dreams about his crush (a word he would never use to describe his feelings, but let's be honest; he has a crush!).

He tries to avoid them out of fear of being overbearing, but his efforts backfire.

The thing is, he wouldn't like someone unless they showed some level of interest in the first place. So if he tries to avoid them, they'll end up finding a way back to him.

If they're a colleague, they drag him out of his office to share a meal or have a conversation, no matter how "busy" he claims to be.

If they met him outside of Hogwarts, they send him a letter asking him where he is and if he would like to catch up.

Of course, he can't say no, so he accepts their invitations to spend time together.

Despite already being somewhat close, he's incredibly nervous. He fears that they can somehow read his thoughts, even though he's a highly skilled Occlumens and always maintains a stoic expression. He finds it difficult to maintain eye contact because if he stares too long and too deeply, he knows he'll let his guard down. He's not ready for them to even wonder if he has romantic feelings.

Eventually, he reaches his breaking point.

He can no longer deny it. He likes them. Now, there are a few ways this could happen.

They touch him. Accidentally or intentionally. Maybe it's a light brush against his arm. Maybe it's a hug. He's so touch-starved that any sort of physical contact will make his heart burst out of his chest and fall to the ground.

They confess to him. "Severus, I've really enjoyed the time we've been spending together. I like you," they reveal. It leaves him speechless. He'll get back to them in 5-7 business days.

If the feelings are one-sided, then it may be a bit harder for him to realize where his heart lies. But something about their smile, their laugh, their sense of humor, or just anything that is so characteristically them makes him finally understand that yes, he does like them.

Even though he wouldn't know how to proceed, it feels like a weight has lifted off his shoulders. He can finally admit to himself that he does have warm feelings for this person. And it makes a lot of sense! There is no one else who gives him the same level of grace, patience, understanding, and friendship. At this point, it's so much more than a simple crush. "Is this what love feels like?" he asks himself. Instinctively, he thinks, "Yes." The "rational" side of him tries to tell himself that it's not, but he ends up ignoring that part of him. He finally lets himself feel and admits to himself that he's in love.

Now, what happens after? Well, that's a post for another time.

#snape #snape headcanons #snape fluff #snape love #pro snape #severus snape #severus snape headcanons #severus snape fluff #severus snape love #pro severus #pro severus snape

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tainted-sweet-meats · 4 months

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More oc lore from my fursona's universe "We are, as I am" this time of Nishou the Doppelgänger. Definitely read tags before clicking the click more for his info. Read more of his info under the cut vvvvvv

Full name: Nishou S. Coding: Jamaican/Chinese Gender/ sexuality: Masc/ Pansexual Pronouns: He/Him Size: 6"3' Species: Doppelganger BirthPlace/Birthday: ???(Never born but created) Zodiac Sign: ???

Voiceclaim:N/A (supernatural/distorted voice is bolded)

Speech quirk

" You are the worst of us and I'm the better of you.....there is no reason for your existence.." " You never say what's on your mind..maybe that's why you're always in trouble..pity you, it couldn't be me...I know how to get what I want and how to destroy what I don't need." "Did you hate yourself so much..that you cast me out..now look at you..a lesser..than what we both are...what we both could of been....I'LL ALWAYS HATE YOU." "One day I will devour you and when that day comes.. I'll make it enjoyable for the both of us.. remember...our oath...blood in..and blood out..right..."

personality music

N/A

General info

Nishou is the forced out utmost extreme negatives and positives of Nish, the best and worst. He was originally a part of them but grew tired of how placid Nish was with themselves. He is the pent-up aggression of all they were throughout their life joined together. He is blunt and doesn't hold back from anyone or anything. His words are as visceral as his fangs and he's proud of the handy work his jaws can do, metaphorically and physically.

Despite his high aggression he also has a high passion and a dual personality. This is also believed to be a product of Nish hiding most of their feelings in situations resulting in unintentionally creating a personality for their doppelganger. Unlike the original, Nishou is not lovey-dovey and seeks passion through intimacy in the most primal of ways. Due to his ferocity, they can confuse the lust for the flesh.. for the hunger they yearn for and easily make quick work out of lovers. Very contradictory to their original that seeks love but can never act on it.

Though consuming their lovers isn't the same as taking their original's place in life. It is an easy way to sate the hunger and craving to fully feel like their original in some twisted way. To Nishou their original stands in his way to having an actual presence in life. It is very well known that a doppelganger must kill their original in order to take their place. To take the originals, they have to consume their heart. And in doing so, living the life he could never live through theirs.

Stand-alone they seem intimidating, harsh, and overly confident. He is the only one to assume many forms, the feral, anthro, were, beastrial, a penghou, as well as a semi humanish creature called Final fatalis. The original can not assume the last three forms. These forms are solely for the doppel. The last tree forms are said to be transitional forms of his supernatural powers. Forms slowly define him farther away from his original vessel. The humanoid form is his strongest out of the bunch. You can tell the doppel is present by the eyes. Only he has red and blue eyes swirling in rings. He could never mimic the original's eyes for some reason. Something having to do with the lack of their soul contained within the heart. Which is what he has to consume from his original vessel to take the life back he helped create.

Though Nishou is not evil, he is the product of the original vessel. When the original could not confront internal struggles with themself, it caused a rift creating him. Nish's subconscious cast him out of their body by throwing up a supernatural black substance that formed Nishou. When formed he was hateful to be abandoned instead of accepted. He formed.....resentful...distorted and vowed to devour every aspect of Nish to regain some peace in his lack of sanity. Which he is slowly losing the more time he remains out of the original's body on his own. He knows only the extremes of the original and acts according to his basic instinct. He believes full heartily when you betray your true self, your real self will be vengeful to regain what it helped you build. You can never escape yourself.

Powers

Slit split- A power only useable in his final and stable form known as "Final Fatalis". A supernatural power where he will slit his wrists to cause the black substance that makes up his very being, to create physical puppet-like replicas of his past forms. These forms can retain memory and take heavy damage in battle. The puppets can be killed but all memory is gained back to the doppel. The damages done, work as a memory function. The doppel will absorb the pain inflicted, which causes the final form to be invincible, indestructible, and distorted over time. This distortion is permanent to him.

Heart inflict- The more time the doppel spends outside the original's body can cause deterioration effects on him entirely. Heart inflict allows him to devour the hearts of those who love or lust after him to keep him stable. This extends the time he has in the physical realm in order to consume the heart he needs to live his life in absolution. The original's heart is what's needed to be fully alive and of the physical realm the original vessel inhabits. Any heart he devours must have the initial intent in wanting him. Though the want doesn't always have to be positive towards him. To the doppel, even if the meat is soured by unjust distortion, meat is all the same to him.

Shadow waltz- Is a teleportation power. The doppel can walk through shadows, even your own. The doppel however does not have a shadow himself. He uses the shadows around him to his advantage. This power can also detect energy. Once in your presence, the doppel is very calculating to not only you but the energy you give off. This makes it easier for him to teleport to your location to find you in an instant.

Vanta pressure- The same feeling you get when you are in the presence of a shadow person or anything paranormal, is the same presence the doppel gives off. This particular move also can cause paralysis when the doppel is tired of hunting you. If you are in close range, your movements cease. Once you stare into his eyes, you will feel the pressure that slowly tears down your emotional and physical barriers. At this point, you are powerless against him and he will devour you.

Catalyst break- This power is used constantly. The doppel can take in high amounts of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual damage. The more he takes in abuse/damage.. the stronger he gets. There isn't much that can hurt him since he isn't exactly physical yet. Though this power has side effects. The more power used against him, the more he has to consume to stay stable. This sometimes means friends may be on the menu.

Dream Inflict- When trying to keep a low profile, he can actually tamper with your dreams and cause you mental harm that will reflect on you physically. In this state you are fully powerless because once he has broken your mind you are done for. The harm he has done to you in your dreams will reflect on your body in the physical. He can use this power to his advantage in a non violent manner as well to just talk with you. Though many will assume it is a vivid or lucid dream.

Vanta Canon- A flameless thrower attack that can rot the flesh off of bones. This attack is in fact not flames but the same creational fluid that acts like an acidic blast through the mouth. The fluid is a focus of acidic trauma distortion once held within the original vessel. Once said trauma was absorbed by the doppel to protect the original vessel when they were in one body, he focused it into a physical attack. The mock flame is the purest form of black and can deteriorate someone from their very core consciousness.

But not before replaying said victim of said attack to relive all their life's trauma through their minds eye. Before melting slowly to death. Ripping you entirely from existence not just in a physical sense. This attack isn't used lightly since its one of the doppel's most vindictive and hate filled attacks. You must of did something horrible/personal to bring this upon you.

Vanta Dismantle - Not many know beyond the original vessel, but it is very wise to not cause any splitting injuries to the doppel. This attack can only be used if the doppel is split in half. He can never fully split and usually the split will stop near his pelvis. He is very dangerous in this mode and can use his internal liquids as hardened weapons before he regenerates his body back in place. Unlike the original vessel, the doppel has no internal organs, bones, muscles or anything. What he has is a creational black fluid that can be molded at his will. He can even trap you within the middle of his split body which can easily crush you to death..leaving zero traces behind. Though when absorbed into him due to his supernatural link...all traces, memory, and you as a whole cease to exist. He can not feed off of you using this attack.

Minor miscellaneous powers such as:

Hyper regeneration

Supernatural strength

Imperceptibility

Psionics

Voice manipulation

Immortality

Inaudible movement

Haunting

Darkness Aura

Darkness Empowerment

Darkness Manipulation

Enragement triggers:

High-frequency noises

Reacting physically violent towards him

Weakness

His original vessel showing self love/forgiveness

Connection to Self-Nishou has retained all information and memories from Nish, and uses them against his original vessel. While what he says isn't exactly wrong, it is presented as aggressive, angered, and distorted. They have seen through the eyes and sorted through the feelings of the original when they were once one in body and mind. With his forked bluntness, they verbally lash at his original with their shortcomings. Using family, friends, relationships, and life traumas against them. To show without him they would have been dead in their teenhood.

Reminding them it was him who kept the noose from around their neck for so long. It was him who broke the rope at the last minute when they tried. An how ungrateful they are for abandoning him when they felt he wasn't needed or would cause hardships in their life. Nishou knows every aspect and every hole the original tries to hide to seem strong. The strength was all him and only his doing. He reminds the original vessel.."It's easy to hide from others but not from one's self".. and he makes sure the original never forgets it.

----

Friendship with a Doppelganger

Though he knows loyalty and values it, unlike their original he is quick to pick up on the lack of it. The minute you let slip you have ulterior motives you are as good as dead. He plays the dance of course. He lets you believe you didn't slip. He enjoys watching you lie, just to see how far you're willing to go. You feel some form of false safety as he still shows you loyalty while you show deceit.

He likes the game even if you aren't aware of it. The minute you initiated it by lying and trying to use him. He doesn't gain much other than fun and quick blood from the play you started. Unlike his original, it's not above him to be vindictive. In fact he takes pleasure in it by giving you pay back. He is very eye for an eye in that mind set. A head space the original vessel quickly abandoned deeming it a toxic trait. An thus the doppel adapting it, seeing it useful to those who sought to harm or use him.

He is the extremes of his original..so like his malice and hate..his love is equally so. Turning on him or using him will hurt him severely, but he will never show it. He doesn't understand forgiveness, because he can't even forgive his original, which in turn he can not forgive himself. He simply will get rid of you permanently to stop the pain you have caused him. He knows no other way to cope with emotional pain of betrayal and abandonment.

----

Spot the difference

Nishou has a distinct look. While he is Nish's doppelganger, his markings are more pronounced and jagged. His demeanor is a bit more serious, aggressive, and forthcoming. He always seems to have a scowl on his face or an expression of hunger and happy malice. He has a swirl to his eyes that seems hyper-focused and intense. Though this is an assumed adaptation so you can not focus on his eyes, since he believes that the eyes are a window to his inner workings. Thus he feels if you can't focus on his eyes it will not leave him open to vulnerabilities. He is the only one able to assume many forms. His height is also way taller than the originals. Unlike their original..they can not bleed red, only black. They were never born...but created. So they do not have flesh and blood like their original does. Everything about them is an intense mimicry. Nish has a bit softer quality in looks and markings, they also do not carry the intense bearded chin fluff. They can be seen with a solemn or emotional face. Though they can be serious in the face it is never the same as their Doppel. Nish's eyes are just red with a hint of blue.

Face to Face-Nishou when confronted with Nish is highly volatile and aggressive. He tries to kill and devour them to claim a life he feels he helped create. And in a sense he did. Without him or his ferocity..his original could not have made it in life when he was a part of them. Nish fears their masculinity more than anything. He represents a part of them they try to hide and destroy to be accepted by their loved ones. Unbeknownst to the fact trying to rid yourself of yourself breeds hatred within self. This hatred bred their doppelganger's personality throughout their growth. They forever are in turmoil with each other until Nish accepts them or succumbs to them.

If Nish shows Nishou any form of love...he seems to be in pain and tries to get away from their original. Being created and cast out from their original's body has caused a jaded mind set. When confronted with affections and acceptance, he doesn't know how to react. He will either run from them or try to injure their original to stay away.

----

Nishou's representation

He is the physical manifestation of the extreme fear of the original vessel accepting their repressed shunned masculinity within themselves. An a physical representation of the original vessel's childhood through the eyes of manipulation and abuse. He is the warped aggression that has been done to the original vessel from their parental units, trusted loved ones, life experiences and harsh environmental adaptation. His actions with lovers is a severed hate for toxic masculinity in a relationship from experience of the original vessel's dating habits in past men.

These relationship natures are twisted into extreme vulgarities that are not normal. Usually the devouring of the flesh in a carnal manner is symbolic to giving oneself entirely both in body and emotions for the sake of another. An getting nothing but desecration in return. This repressed feeling is the unrequited love the original endured up until their early 20's. At this time Nishou was cast out from their body.

He is the only one from the two that can assume a multitude of forms. It is believed by the original vessel that this multi-transitional process of Nishou, is representations they helped create through self repressed feelings and trauma.

The feral, a form both have which represents basic and lesser instincts of mental adaption to situational issues. The Feral form is known as the emotional shield. It is a form used commonly to avoid emotional backlash within self. To see him in this form is to realize you are being monitored and if you can be trusted. In this form, he doesn't fully trust you. It is a neutral form towards anyone and everyone.

The anthro, is also known as the physical shield. Is a form that is the most mocking to the original vessel due to variations of similarities to Nish. The only difference is this form is bigger than the original. As well as markings being slightly more jagged and rougher in look. The rough look is believed to be akin to Father. This is the form the original vessel always wanted but could never have due to the fear of backlash from loved ones. This is also the most common form to see him in.

The were, otherwise known as the mental shield. This form is the unchecked repressed brutality of the original vessel. Unlike the beastrial, the doppel's were form is highly aware mentally. Something the original can not control in their form. It is unknown why Nishou can mentally be in control while in this state though. It's believed the were is more a form originally for the doppel. The were being a physical manifestation of a mental safeguard to emotional pain and abuse, when he was still within the body of the original vessel. It is believed that once he was cast out from the original, Nish could still resume their form but lacked mental clarity like the doppel. Since it was his form to originally achieve. A form he shared with the original vessel to overcome mental trauma from others.

The penghou, known as the trauma shield, is a form only the doppel can achieve. This form is said to be the head of a humanoid man and the body of a canid. This form is believed to be a representation of the original's repressed fear of accepting themselves due to parental resentment. The eyes in the mane are a form of paranoia developed from Mother always asserting dominance in their offspring's life. The eyes themselves are the colors of Mother's eyes. A constant reminder of being watched and stigmatized for trying to achieve being one's true self without her toxic help. This state like the beastrial is semi transitional. Unlike the other transformations, there is something eerily humanoid about this form.

The penghou is the doppel's most intense form. The doppel in this state is highly vengeful due to being abandoned by the original vessel. While the doppel is a manifestation of self-hatred entirely, the penghou is a distorted result of primal aggression to oneself through parental abuse. For favoring what others think before what the original vessel thought of themselves. It is known to mimic voices of those the original trusts in order to coax the original to get closer to harm them. The black ooze from this beast is the same creational sludge that helped form him. This fluid is highly toxic and if bitten could mean certain death. This fluid is what makes up the doppel's body and is also what he bleeds.

The beastrial, known to be the transitional shield. It is a were stuck in mid shift. It is believed this form only happens when the doppel is in a high aggressive emotional state. While it rarely happens, when it does Nishou is not in his right state of mind and will even harm friends without a second thought. This form could be forced out as a retaliation of the original vessel trying to accept themselves as well as their doppel. Another theory to this form is the original vessel's lack of trust for those who actually care for them. It is well known the original vessel holds no trust despite having others trust in them.

This residual is warped within the doppel entirely into something more physically aggressive. Thus the lapse in judgment in this form for turning on those who may actually love them, lumping said friends in with those who hold ill will towards them. This is the only form to also semi resemble "Mother". He is more feline than he is vulpine in looks in this state. Depending on the emotional state, the face of said form can vary.

This form holds no empathy nor time for negotiation within reasonable sensibility. It is all terror and all hatred from both the humanoid and beast in its utmost form. In this form he can no longer speak human tongue and regresses back into its most primal of languages. It's instinct is to destroy and kill everything that has harmed it and everything that is in its way, be it friend or foe. He will not show mercy in his wake and this form can not be halted until what ever caused this shift is destroyed or far within reach to be seen or sniffed out.

This form is easily irritable and highly sensitive to noise of high pitches and low baritones. Sudden noises that irritate them can send him off in a rage. [No images at this time, they aren't scanned oh lazy me :p]

The humanoid, is the last and strongest form of the doppel. It is known to no longer be a shield form for the original vessel, but a form fully for the doppel. An offense form known as "Final Fatalis". Surprisingly even compared to his were or beastrial form, this form's strength is unimaginable. In this state the doppel is impenetrable and can not be harmed in any manner. This is the fully transitioned form of the doppel. In this state he is known to even shift out animalistic parts to his advantage at will. Though he keeps a lot of his markings and animal attributes, his face is no longer animal. The original vessel has no known defense against this form.

The humanoid is very large, hyper-aware, and at best unpredictable. They have a natural charm that can allure anyone to them unintentionally. The semi-humanoid is also alluded to have supernatural powers. Such as being able to teleport within and through darkness, pick up emotional intent, hyper-physical and emotional regeneration, high pain tolerance, and strike fear into those who challenge him with a simple glance. One of his most powerful tactics is splitting his skin open to release some of his black creational sludge to replicate walking puppets of his previous forms to do his bidding. They hold all powers of said form while sharing a mental link with him since they are him. Just now weaponized extensions. These puppets have blackened eyes, unlike his swirled eyes.

Nishou is a physical walking vessel of the original's self-hatred. His very imagery is a mockery of what the original could have been had they loved themselves, before pleasing and loving others. Though due to being forcefully shunned, Nishou has distorted from what he once was. This creature is walking self-hatred manifested as a doppel. Each form represents multiple pieces of the original's traumas and not being able to confront them to accept self.

Relationships- It's rare to see Nishou in a committed relationship-type setup like it is to see Nish in one. Nish can be seen holding their heart away from their partner or lovers constantly. There is a lack of trust to fully give themselves to a partner while still showing love fully. A huge contradiction but doable only by Nish. However, this is a glimmer of Nishou's nature still within them. When it comes to friends, they can be confident and flirty.

But don't mistake it for the commitment of a lover. You will never get this from them and they will make sure you never get this close to them. You will always feel something is off while dating them. While you feel loved, there is a slight distance, as if the minute you mess up they will disappear from your life as if they were never there. There is some truth to your feeling. It is not that they don't love you, they do. What they will not lose is themselves over you. They don't value you enough to put themselves in that predicament. This is a unique residual of what their Doppel left behind within them. There is a huge fear within Nish that they will lose themselves entirely within you. They already regret casting their doppel out, they do not want to lose anything else with what little they have left of themselves. This part is their heart. An organ the doppel is believed to be missing. The only perk to them having fun with you is your safety is 100% guaranteed. Unlike their doppel, where you are walking on eggshells due to their extreme natures. An a potential threat of death if you cross the doppel emotionally.

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spotty-bee · 3 months

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Hazbin Hotel Headcannon

I've been thinking a lot about Adam, Lute, Vaggie and the exorcists. How they all work and everything that we've learned over the course of the show about them. After looking over the pictures of them without their masks and all the back dealings with heaven I was kinda starting to think...

What if their all related?

Adam and Vaggie have the same skin colour. Lute has Adam's nose. They all have golden pupils (Though Vaggie's sclera is red, many have head cannoned that being from living in hell.) Vaggie and Lute both have white hair. Theres a lot of similarities between these characters physically and while that can be due to the art style, I do start to wonder.

However WHY would Lute , Vaggie and possibly all the exorcists be Adam's daughters? Well it starts to make sense when you remember that Sera wanted to keep the Exterminations under wraps. If you have Heaven Born or Saint (Dead humans who got into Heaven) warriors doing the exterminations, word would eventually get out. These people have lives outside of their work and all it would take is talking to a spouse or one of them feeling guilty before news spreads. IF you have warriors who's entire life was Exterminations, then they would A- be less likely to tell anyone and B- Be less likely to feel guilty if they weren't taught anything else.

As for where all these woman came from, my guess would be cloning. We know for a FACT that Heaven has Science.

A good way to get warriors that won't have outside influence/ loose lips is if they don't have any parents that will be wondering whats going on. Cloning would also ensure that warriors will walk off the assembly line fully grown and ready to train. Adam likely used his DNA and then mixed it with donated DNA from other Heavenly Residents . All he then had to do was train his army.

OF course this opens up some rather dark things to consider. There are at least 100 Exterminators. All of them are female. The likelihood of that happening by happenstance is extremely low. Adam had to have chosen to only have woman in his army, and when you factor in Adam's misogynist, narcissistic attitude, that dose not paint a pretty picture. We also need to consider that Adam was left to train/educate these woman with almost no outside interference. Sera made it clear she wanted as little to do with the Extermination business as possible and she maybe one of the few who knew about the army's creation. IN FACT I know she had nothing to do with the army because, apparently, Adam got to name these girls and nobody, and I mean NOBODY, stopped him from naming Vaggie after female anatomy. (I wouldn't be surprised if Vaggie is a nickname and she's actually just named Vagina.)

They seem to have lived a life of constant training and battle. Its also heavily implied that Vaggie (and Lute to a lesser extent) were taught to view themselves as disposable. Worthless if they didn't have someone to serve. We see it when Vaggie tries to lead the trust exercises, when she beats herself up for not making a proper commercial for the hotel, in fact she seems to have little personal life unless its training or Charlie is involved. Lute herself rips off her own arm just to try and help Adam. If Adam did raise/train them, then these are some pretty bad signs.

These are just some things I was thinking about looking over the show. I am also not making this to bash anyone who ships Adam and Lute. This is all speculation and personal interpretation. I've just never felt anything romantic between Lute and Adam, but they were clearly close. I took that last, tearful goodbye in the finally as a distant, estranged Father- Daughter relationship.

Anyway, what do you think? Its highly unlikely this is true, but could make for a fun, dark fan fiction or Au!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute #adam hazbin hotel #head cannon #hazbin hotel vaggie

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theprismyyy · 6 months

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Honestly, I read on several different platforms, both here on Tumblr, and on Wattpad, ao3 and others... and so, in general, they are all great apps with great stories to read, but there is one thing that bothers me about all of them, mainly and especially on Ao3, and the amount of disgusting content involving serious subjects like incest, rape and others that I won't bother mentioning here; What irritates me most about this is the lack of filter in the app.I'm only saying all this because the following happened, I was simply reading some stories about Gwen Stacy on the said app (ao3) when I came across atrocities like a fanfic whose plot was literally an incestuous relationship between Gwen and her father....man , I just wanted to read some fluffy fluff and not come across unnecessary and unsolicited material, I didn't bother opening this (obviously) and I didn't even want to, I was honestly disgusted... Also, I came across another whose plot idea was even more horrible... I don't know, it all just made me think that maybe these apps need more serious and firm rules and punishments in the face of these things; such serious and criminal topics being written in a sick manner to normalize and entertain more disgusting and sick people is still dark, it's even darker how little we talk about it and how little the developers seem to care, I imagine dealing with demands so big ones must be extremely difficult but we don't even see a movement to deal with these things...IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S JUST A CHARACTER, IT DOESN'T MATTER HE OR SHE DOESN'T EXIST, FUCK YOU AND YOUR SICK SHIT THAT USES THIS AS AN "ARGUMENT" TO WRITE CRIMINAL THINGS AND FEED YOUR FANTASIES DISGUSTING!!!! WHAT WE WRITE AND CONSUME SAYS A LOT ABOUT THE TYPE OF PEOPLE WE ARE AND IF YOU CONSUME IT AND DON'T SEE A PROBLEM WITH THIS TYPE OF CONTENT THEN PLEASE FUCK YOU

Anyway, this was just me venting because honestly I was extremely uncomfortable, I just wanted to read some nonsense and I had to come across something so sickening.

Edit: Apparently this is necessary as I may not have been as specific on some points and some people don't seem to understand (or don't want to understand)

It wasn't a personal "attack" on the Ao3 platform, I just used it as an example because that's usually where this type of work ends up appearing more.

2. Yes, I know and use the filtering system, Still, I think they are very often very flawed... besides, many of the people who write this type of content use tags that have nothing to do with the plot of the story to achieve greater visibility.

3. Yes... teenagers have sex 😱 wow what an incredible discovery!!! I know a lot of movies, shows, etc. portray this openly, I personally don't feel comfortable writing smut in general and everyone has their own opinion about it, but I understand there are a lot of writers who do this normalization and trivialization of a CRIME!

4. I know that many people use writing as a coping mechanism, but I think it is very unlikely that a person who has been through a situation, such as rape, for example, You'll write about it like it's something sexy or the best experience you've ever had in your life, like a lot of these types of writers do.

5. Yes, one of the joys of writing is that we can explore the deepest, most complex aspects of humanity without directly hurting anyone, and I love that, but we need to take responsibility for that.

6. There was a guy here who literally said that it's because of people like me that you can't have porn on Tumblr anymore...but why would there need to be porn here? Why just not open on an adult site like pornhub or xvideos?

7. I was indirectly called a facist through a Hashtag.... not supporting the normalization of rape, incest, etc. apparently makes me a facist😍

(I really am completely willing to hear opinions and comments, but I will not tolerate disrespect in the comments. That's it and thank you)

#gwen stacy x reader #across the spiderverse #spider verse #into the spider verse #gwen stacy #hobbie brown #miles morales #pavitr prabhakar #peter b parker #peter parker #what the fuck #what the fuck is this #I'm disgusted #We need to talk about this

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notallangelsaregood · 11 months

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My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 82

Needless to say, (some real serious) manga spoilers alert

Oh, boy, I'm gasping for air. I'm panicking, and I've not panicked this much about Spy x Family since Anya's last hijack incident (which my heart has not recovered yet). Mr. Endo, may you, please, pay my cardiologist bill? I'm not joking, I'm hyperventilating, and my chest is TU DUM, TU DUM.

The mole was discovered! Poor guy (or not, who knows?). I wonder what SSS will do to him. How far will the organization go? I believe we won't even know.

I'm seriously nervous for him. Twillight is used to things getting on his way, with minimum complications and this situation is definitely not it. Of course, he could figure things could go bad, since It's a really risky operation, however, I feel his frustration in not getting much time to secure the real wheeler.

Damn, my heart is not surviving till the end of this chapter.

Our man got ✨ The Skills ✨ Still, all this shooting is getting me pretty nervous. I'm immediately getting my anxiety meds. Endo, what the actual f-

Yeah, Twilight is The Man! Still, my hands are trembling and so is my apprehensive cardiac organ. This is sure to be qualified as torture.

He is quite wise disguising as Yuri. Haha, got it? I'm not okay, Christ.

Damn, Yuri is very intelligent, as well. The brains had to go to one of the Briar's, am I right? (Poor Yor, I love you, It's not personal. Bad comedy is my coping mechanism when I'm nervous. I'm so sorry!)

He is right about that. Twilight is nervous. And I wonder why. Maybe because there's more on this game than before? He is a father. A husband. He worries. He is not the same he was before, as much as he tries to convince himself that he is not attached to his fake family dynamics.

I can clearly imagine his thoughts racing. He's thinking about Anya, about Yor, about WISE, while trying to run and get these thoughts away from him in order to not commit mistakes, like leaving a footprint behind. Just saying.

Oh Yuri, you are so sweet, in a way. And you know absolutely nothing.

The panic™ on his face. Poor Yuri, I'm truly divided right here. See? I'm calmer, not panicking at all, this is certainly my clonazepam working.

Quick (but important) writer's note here, I'm actually diagnosed with intense anxiety and use prescribed medication, I joke about it, cause It's better to laugh than cry on the reality of my condition, however, never use anxiolytic/benzodiazepines drugs without valid prescription and conscience, it might cause long-term dependency and tolerance. My Pharmacy academic self felt the need to point this out. Moving on!

By the way, have you noticed the "waver"? Twilight is hesitating, deeply, which makes him more prone to aiming wrong. Haha, ha… I'm okay, I swear 😰

...

HOW THE FLOOF AM I SUPPOSED TO BE CHILL AFTER THIS, HUH?

Okay, two theories. I'm okay, I swear, my blood pressure is just fine.

Theory number 1. Twilight gets Yuri shot on some of his limbs, probably one of his legs, so our spy can buy time, run to encounter the others Wise's agents and hide. Gladly, he can aim just on the spot when no much damage is made to Yuri, even though the spy is extremely nervous. Twillight was totally not expecting to find him on that corner, and he knows that doing something so serious like UNALIVING HER WIFE'S BROTHER will tear her apart. Why else he would waver? He is the best spy of Westalis. He doesn't hesitate, but this is different.

Theory number 2. Which I believe is less likely, but still possible, Yuri gets our incredible Spy shot on some area of his body where the disguise falls off, and he realizes Twillight and Loid are the same person, but he does nothing about it, at least not for a while. Making him and the spy share this major secret for a while, due to numerous reasons, but mainly to protect Yor and take her out of her position as Loid's wife safely. But as I said, I find unlikely to Yuri shoot TwiTwi, even though the latter is quite nervous and might not dodge the shot. Besides the fact Loid has his arm aimed at Yuri first, while Yuri has his arm sideways, which gives Twilight an advantage in time.

Be sure to talk to me in the comments, I would love to hear what you guys think. Moving on to the last past of the chapter.

Lady Yor! Our grownup baby! She is still with the same outfit and hair down, so I assume it's late at night or afternoon, maybe Anya is already home or at a sleepover with Becky? Not sure.

Our poor girl is nervous due to Yuri filling her thoughts with the possibility of Loid cheating (which is dumb as floof, because he is a loyal boy) but still, even sober, Yor is worried. She cares about this family so much it probably hurts and confuses her. Her face on the left gave me chills, so much is going through her mind, almost if she senses something is wrong.

So. Much. Blood. I'm. Nervous. I. Can't. Breath. Properly. What. Was. This? Whose blood is this? (Not Yor's, I assume). I always count the days till the next chapter, but for this one, I'll be in severe mental pain until its release date. My mind racing like Yor's, wondering if Loid will come home late or come home at all.

I keep imagining scenarios where one of the boys gets shoot and the aftermath of that, Loid or Yuri at the hospital or being held by their organizations in order to get intel from them, Yor drying with worry, there are so many possibilities. This arc has been the most intense so far, for me, at least. I don't know how I will cope till June 26th.

What do you guys thinking? If my heart survived until now, yours will! Make sure to like, reblog and support my work here on Tumblr, I really appreciate it. Now I will rest, cause that chapter was (hell) difficult 🌹 (this post will be reviewed soon, so if you encounter any grammar or spelling mistakes, forgive my bilingual mess self)

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gabriel-xander · 6 months

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I Wish You Died Instead Ch. 1

[Scaramouche x Fem!Reader]

A/N: I started writing this before all of his lore came out/Before the last Sumeru Archon quest, so there will be a handful of inconsistency later on. My advice to you? Just go with it!

Summary:

You hate working for the Fatui. You hate working for Scaramouche. And you just… hate Scaramouche.

He's two-faced, incorrigible, insensitive, and has an atrocious personality. Unlike yourself, he enjoys hurting others simply because he can. You know he only recruited you because he believes you have the potential to be a killer. You didn't join the Fatui because you wanted to, you joined because you needed the resources. You don't want to be turned into a weapon, but Scaramouch didn't care.

You really… really hate him.

{Also on Quotev, AO3, and Wattpad under Gabriel Xander}

Chapter 1: Oh, Lore?

You smoothly fix your mask over your face when you cool off enough from the strong breeze. It was pretty stuffy in that Fatui mask despite the weather being colder than Tsaritsa's taint 24/7, you never liked wearing it. But you had no choice but to follow the regulation of keeping your uniform in check.

"[L/n]."

You look up from the report you were reading, your fellow agent was towering over you since you were sitting on a rock.

"What is it, Kazuki?" You mutter, closing the folder to hide whatever was inside.

It's not like you didn't trust Kazuki: he was the only one you could trust considering he was your best friend. But you two weren't in the same department, and you rather not expose him to the danger you had to deal with. He was special to you like that.

The pale man offers a ghost of a smile, "May I sit with you?"

You snort unattractively, "Sure, be my guest."

The rock wasn't even big enough for your ass, but maybe that was Kazuki's plan from the start. Scooting over so you're practically just sitting at the edge, the black haired agent carefully sits next to you on your conquered rock island.

You let out an undignified squeal as Kazuki's body manages to shove you off the rock. He quickly grabs your arm and pulls it against his body so you don't fall. You had to drop the report on the snow so you could steady yourself against the rock. Both you and Kazuki were laughing like morons, luckily that the other agents were inside where it protected them from the Snezhnaya weather.

"Moron," You chuckle, already feeling warm from where you and the other were flushed together, "What do you want? I don't have Mora."

Kazuki was a tall man, taller compared to the majority of people anyway. And since you're probably the one of the few people who's seen him without his Fatui mask, you can confidently say that Kazuki was, unfortunately, very attractive. His pale skin was close to perfect, minus the horizontal scar on his left cheek. His black hair was pushed back, at the front and center of his hair was pink.

His eyes were an extremely light shade of brown, almost giving it a gold hue. Though because of this, it made his tadpole pupils easily visible. This is where the pupils take an oval-like shape, though in Kazuki's case, they almost look sharp at the end.

His deep voice brings you out of your thoughts, "I don't want anything. I just wanted to check up on you since you're out here alone. I know you hate Snezhnaya weather so..."

"Aw, am I that special to you?" You tease, letting your guard down just a bit.

"Absolutely not. Go perish."

You groan, "Speaking of doing shit that seems shitty, how's it like working for Lord Tartaglia?"

The male agent sharply shakes his head. Clear message: change the subject.

"Well, if it's any consolation, Lord Scaramouche doesn't remember I exist," You add lamely, "I really think my recruitment was a mistake on his part."

Kazuki shakes his head, "I don't understand why you joined the Fatui to begin with. This is no place for someone like you."

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"That you're too soft."

"Oh." That's pretty much true so you can't even say anything! "I didn't wanna get chosen by Lord Scaramouche, but apparently he thought I was most suited for his field since he commands the Skirmishers."

Kazuki raises a brow, "And how do you know that?"

"Well... Do you remember three months ago, the night of our personal recruitment's to the Harbingers?"

——

You wouldn't consider yourself talented in anything or skilled in areas that are remarkable. But you do pride yourself in being able to sweet talk your way into and out of situations, and your invisibility. Not that you're dIfFeReNt AnD qUiRkY and no one ever notices you, but you're an absolute fucking master at sneaking into places you do not belong in.

It's not often that Harbingers will recruit for direct subordinates, so when you (and Kazuki) were given the chance, you put on your best show in hopes of attracting the attention of a low ranking Harbinger.

That's right, you wanted to work for someone like Il Dottore. He's a researcher, and in your opinion, the most pacifistic department. You also heard he's not fond of Vision-wielders, so you thought he would've loved to have someone like you.

But no.

That's not what happened.

You knelled down in front of the door that led into Scaramouche's office, taking a long, thin, metallic tool from your pocket. You stuck the tool into the lock and began to twist and turn the device to pick at the door.

You're probably expecting some deep lore for the reason why you're a lock-picking master, but honestly you just learned it to impress your friends when you were a kid.

Anyway, you don't have a Vision, and honestly you're grateful for that. You've seen what happens to those who's Visions are taken away or destroyed. And if your own personal research has made you learn anything, you're not too eager about being granted into Celestia.

You openly displayed disgust when the recruitment reports. You, along with a handful of other brutish Fatui agents, were selected to be direct subordinates of the Balladeer: Scaramouche, Number Six of the Fatui Harbingers.

Not only that, he appointed you as his second in command simply because you're quiet (around him).

You bit your tongue from cheering out loud when a familiar click came from the door. You pulled the tool out and stuffed it back into your uniform. You quickly stood up and opened the door, slipping inside and quietly closing it behind yourself.

You sighed in relief when you didn't see anyone in the room. Perhaps it was extremely reckless to not check before entering, but that was just a flaw you needed to work on. Noticing the stack of folders on Scaramouche's plain desk, you quickly made your way to the other side of the room.

——

"YOU BR-" Kazuki quickly lowers his voice to a whisper, "You broke into Lord Scaramouche's office?!"

"Yeh."

"Holy fuck. How are you not dead?!"

"Let me finish."

——

Each folder was plain and unmarked, you had to open each one and skim for your name to find your folder. There were so many folders, and from what you gathered, three folders belonged to one person. One for their medical/physical information, one for their specialty, and if they wielded a vision or not, and the last one was personal information about the person's detailed background.

You weren't interested in anyone else other than yourself and Kazuki, and Scaramouche wouldn't have your friends' folder, so you only searched for your own.

Skimming through the first files for your name, then separating it three at a time, you begin searching more frantically when you start reaching the bottom and you've yet to see your report.

Maksim, Ivac, Andrei, Lena, [L/n- That's mine!

On the fucking bottom of the pile were your reports, no doubt Scaramouche did that on fucking purpose.

You organize the other folders neatly as they were before, leaving yours out to read it.

[Y/n] [L/n]

Female

[Height]

[Weight]

——

"Ugh," Kazuki scrunches his nose, "If I ever go missing, do not put my weight on the missing poster. I promise I won't come back."

——

[Eye Color]

[Hair Color]

Agent 241100

You shake your head and check your specialty folder. You don't think you can see how much the Fatui knows about your family, it might break you.

You skim through the folder to the last page where you see notes written in a different font and color. You're pretty sure this is Scaramouche's own notes on your person.

Wields no Vision, yet she is exceptionally more talented and stronger than the other incompetent agents who do wield Visions. She uses a Claymore, but is surprisingly fast with her attacks and just as powerful. I've heard she wants to be on a researching branch, or a collector, or something of the sorts. But that will be a waste of talent, which is why I recruited her before that idiot Childe could. The brat hesitates with harming the others during training, no doubt it will become a liability later on. But with enough exposure, she could become the perfect killer and wea-

"And what do you think you're doing?"

You slam the folder closed and spin around to face the door since your dumbass had your back towards the entrance.

You widen your eyes, just realizing that you forgotten your mask with Kazuki in the main room where other agents just fuck around.

You grin nervously, "I... Lord Tartaglia...!"

——

"HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD, [Y/N]?!" Kazuki shouts too close to your ear.

You frown and rub your ear against your shoulder, "Well, stop interrupting me, Nao, and I'll tell you!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

——

"What are you doing here?" Tartaglia crossed his arms, an expression mixed with a smile and a scold, "You are aware this is Scaramouche's office."

"Wh-uh, w-what are you doing here, hm? Lord Tartaglia?"

You messily shoved your folders under the pile since you were doing it behind your back. You're sure Tartaglia wasn't blind to it, considering he was fucking looking right at you.

"You must've picked the lock, the door wasn't all the way closed," Tartaglia amused you, "Now, explain yourself. I'd hate to have you executed for treason."

"Treason? Isn't that a bit uh-an overreaction?" You bit the inside of your cheek, "I-I just wanted to check why Lord Scaramouche chose me as his direct subordinate. I'm not a Skirmisher, and I did my best to make it perfectly clear that I wanted the most pacifistic branch..."

You turn your gaze to the side, silently referring to the folders behind you on the desk, "I have no other motives, I just wanted to know why the Archons have forsaken me."

You hear a soft puff of air from Tartaglia before the sound of footsteps. You keep your gaze down, knowing better than to look a Harbinger in the eyes.

"Does Scaramouche explain why he recruited you?" Tartaglia asked as he stopped by your side, nudging you to move so he could look at the files.

"Yes, sir. Well, I think so? Something about how he can turn me into a weapon and a killer if the fucker traumatizes me enough," You scoffed.

"Ha-ha! Is that so?"

"Oh!" Shit, you forgot who you were talking to, "I-I mean-I'm so sorry! I mean no disrespect towards Lord Scara-"

"-No, don't worry about it," Tartaglia said dismissively as he picked up your folder from the bottom, "He's certainly unpleasant, I'll give you that. Where are his notes?"

"Second folder, last page."

Tartaglia follows your instructions, grabbing the folder and opening it to the last page. You keep watch of the door, watching and listening for any intruders since Tartaglia didn't bother closing the door. You're sure he did it on purpose so if Scaramouche does come in, the blame would quickly fall on you.

Fucker.

"Interesting. You're a skilled fighter, [L/n]?" Tartaglia mused, "And you hid this fact from me? How rude."

"I'm not-" You felt your eyelid twitch, "-I don't like fighting. That's why I hope to be recruited by someone lame like Lord Dottore. Or even you, so I can just collect debts."

Tartaglia hummed quietly for a moment. You push yourself off the desk, stretching your arms above your head. You're actually preparing yourself to die right now. You disrespected not one, but two Harbingers in front of Tartaglia, got caught breaking into a superior's office, and you didn't even properly greet Tartaglia like you were supposed to.

You're honestly surprised to have lived so long anyway.

"Well, get out of here already," Tartaglia picks up your second folder to read it, not bothering to look at you, "If you leave now, you won't get caught."

You blink in surprise, "I... Lord Tartaglia-"

The ginger finally looks at you with a grin, though it doesn't reach his eyes. Later you learn that it never does.

"-Leave, before I throw the blame on you and say you picked the lock."

You bow deeply in gratitude, "Thank you, Lord Tarta-"

"-Childe."

"...Yes, thank you, Lord Childe."

——

Kazuki whistles loudly, "Wow..."

"Yep," You cling to Kazuki's arm as you pick up the report you have dropped, "And I guess he kept his word since I'm still alive and Lord Scaramouche hasn't said anything to me yet."

Kazuki suddenly stands up, causing you to fall off the rock and land in the cold snow.

"You fucker! You couldn't give me a warning?! This is why I have trust issues, Nao! You have any-"

"-Let's go inside, [Y-er, [L/n]," Kazuki's tone is suddenly more monotonous as he reaches his hand out, "I actually came out here to get you. Lord Scaramouche requested for you."

"You motherfucker."

#fanfiction #reader insert #geshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #female reader #scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #original character #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer #wanderer x reader #short story #i dont know how to tag on tumblr #im doing me best #IWYDI Fanfiction

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aemehhh · 5 months

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Regrets and mistakes are memories made- Jotaro x Reader

CW: Canon typical violence, swearing (like, a lot.), blood, deep wounds, hurt, angst, mentions of PTSD, mentions of depression and a panic attack is described in great detail, detailed description of character death, heartbreak. Also, spoiler warning for parts 3-6!

Wc: ~9.5k

A/N: Hello everybody! After I made a poll on here a lil while ago, people voted for a Jotaro fic and of course, your wish is my command.

First off, I want to apologize for any grammar mistakes; english isn't my first language. Also, this is my first fic, so any criticism is appreciated <3

Second of all, the story is made with a fem! Reader in mind, so the pronouns she/her are used. Also, the Reader is a Stand user! The name of the Stand is based on the Song "Head In The Clouds" by Hayd. Please give the Song a listen when you're done reading! :) Link for the song here: https://youtu.be/_aYQZoC3YCY?si=I8hSXMTYTzBmwzXC

Lastly, I am no mental health professional. Every description of depression and panic attacks stems from my own experiences as well as research I did. So, if you can't identify with Readers symptoms, I apologize. I also apologize if Jotaro is OOC. I still hope you have fun reading this story!

Enjoy~!

Love sucks. Like, it really, really fucking sucks.

Okay, no, it doesn't. But it kind of does too. It doesn't suck, when you see how you bring a smile to your partner's face with just your presence. It doesn't suck when you kiss the person you love or feel their touch or their warmth, and your heart just bursts with happiness. It doesn't suck, when your partner has a smile reserved for you and only you. When you whisper sweet nothings into each other's ear, fall asleep tangled in an intimate embrace, and then wake up to your beloved's face in the morning.

No, love really doesn't suck when that is the case. In fact, it can be considered to be truly beautiful.

It is beautiful when it is reciprocated. And that is where it really does start to fucking suck.

You met Jotaro Kujo in your very first year of high school. Jotaro was your classmate back then, and he always sat silently by the window. There was always that bizarre aura to Jotaro, when you look back. He has always had his typical, grumpy demeanor that practically screamed, "Leave me the fuck alone." His appearance spoke for itself. Although he was extremely handsome, having high cheekbones, a nearly perfect nose, the most beautiful blue eyes that have ever graced the earth's presence, as well as gorgeous, black curls; the most common expression on his face was a scowl. Jotaro also had more of a delinquent type of style when it came to how he wore his hair and uniform, and if that wasn't enough, he also told each and every single person who approached him to fuck off. So, he wasn't just a loner; he was kind of a freak, at least in your eyes. Which is precisely why you never bothered to interact with him, even when you became classmates and your assigned desk was next to his.

However, the two of you became friends in the long run. Though, to be frank, the way it happened really was bizarre.

It started at the beginning of your second year in high school. Unlike Jotaro, you weren't a loner by any means. On the contrary, although you weren't the most popular girl in school, you were social enough to have a close circle of friends that you hung out with regularly, and you didn't need more than that.

While the two of you never really spoke to one another, Jotaro was relieved that you were in the seat next to his. You were one of the only girls in the school who wasn't screeching in his ear whenever he walked by. Hell, you didn't even interact with him unless you were forced to by your teacher because of a dumb group assignment.

A group project was actually the reason why he started taking notice of you.

You two were working on a project with two other classmates. Jotaro was mostly silent, only saying something if absolutely necessary, which wasn't out of the norm for him. He looked out of the window with a bored expression, waiting for the next time he could smoke a much-needed cigarette. At the same time, you were in a heated discussion with a classmate about some stupid argument that needed to be brought up in a debate as part of the project. That classmate had completely disagreed with anything you said, not because he had good arguments, but because that fucker wanted to get on your nerves, and you knew it. You and that asshole were at it for about five minutes, and you were getting increasingly angry when, all of a sudden, the guy just magically agreed with your opinion. More or less. The guy claimed that that exact thought—your argument—just came into his head randomly. Jotaro noticed there was something weird about you at that moment. There was a shift of energy in the air when the guy just suddenly agreed with you, and it rubbed him in the wrong way.

Jotaro kept an eye on you after that. He noticed it happening like this a handful of times, where someone wouldn't agree with you for a while, then there would be a sort of shift, and all of a sudden, they'd agree with you. It bothered him real bad now.

Jotaro got his "evil spirit" soon after and was arrested. After his grandpa came to Japan and explained the concept of Stands to him, as well as the looming threat over their heads, a 100-year-old vampire named DIO, Jotaro suspected that you might have a Stand as well. After all, according to his grandpa, Stand users attract other Stand users.

Jotaro was right with his assumption.

You discovered you had a Stand during Jotaro's battle with Noriaki Kakyoin. You were in the nurse's office because you wanted to ask for some painkillers when the nurse, possessed by what you would later find out to be Kakyoin's Stand, attacked Jotaro and two other students. Something within you awoke in that moment, and a humanoid gray ghost came up behind the nurse, whispering in her ear that she would no longer attack the students. Afterwards, Kakyoin's Stand, Hierophant Green, came out of the nurse's body as if in a trance, and Jotaro's own Stand beat Kakyoin to a pulp.

Per his request, you followed Jotaro home that day as he carried Kakyoin, whom you discovered to be controlled by DIO. there. From there on, you learned about Stands from Jotaro's grandfather, Mr. Joseph Joestar, as well as his friend Muhammad Avdol, both of whom were Stand users.

On that day, you also named your Stand.

"So, from what it seems, your Stand has the ability to manipulate someone's thoughts and actions by whispering your command into their ear. This creates a haze that manipulates the opponent's head in such a manner that they think your command was their own thought. Therefore, making them take that action with no question asked. That is quite a useful ability to have." Avdol said while grabbing his chin in thought and looking at you.

"I guess now it makes sense why people magically agree with me when I fight with them, huh?" You scratched the back of your head, letting out an awkward and nervous laugh. All of this was just.. bizarre. Stands, a 100-year-old vampire in Egypt? Yeah. Not something that is usually happening in day-to-day life.

"So, got a name in mind? You can't just call it a ghost." Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, said with a grin.

You looked at the floor for a moment, pondering. Then you had one in mind.

"Hmm.. "Head in the Clouds" sounds pretty fitting, doesn't it?." You replied to the older man with a smile.

The true adventure began when Jotaro's angel of a mother, Holy, became ill from her Stand's power. Her soul was too kind, too gentle to be able to keep up with it. Avdol examined Holy and predicted that she would only have about 50 days until her body succumbed to her Stand's power and she would die. Mr. Joestar, who was beyond devastated and angry, called some doctors from the renowned Speedwagon Foundation (apparently this guy has connections everywhere in the fucking world) over to look after Holy.

Avdol, Joseph, Jotaro, and Noriaki, who was now freed from DIO's curse, planned to take the 50-day trip to Egypt in order to save Holy and defeat DIO. You were asked to join the others. And although hesitant at first, you agreed to tag along.

Your parents were contacted by the Speedwagon Foundation a few hours later, and they told them you got a spot in their international exchange program for Japanese students (you allegedly applied months ago). You had a bit of explaining to do that night, but they had no reason to think you were lying, so they let you go.

You got close to everyone on the trip. You even had a new guy join the group; a large, French man with silver hair called Jean Pierre Polnareff. He was quite a silly man, sometimes even a bit of a perv, but he was serious when he needed to be. The group sort of became a family to you at some point. Mr. Joestar, who insisted you call him Joseph, was acting like a father to Jotaro, Noriaki and you. Even when he was annoying at times, he kept his heart in the right place and made sure everyone was fed and doing as well as possible. You saw where Holy got her kind heart from. Avdol, although he was gone for some time, recovering from his shot wound given to him by a Stand user, was a very interesting and charming man. You and the others often listened to him talk about his travels all over the world and all the different people he met before.

Noriaki, Jotaro and you were the closest to one another, though. You guys formed a close bond that grew with each passing day. While you were indifferent towards Jotaro in the beginning, mainly because you didn't care to bother a person who very obviously wasn't keen on getting attention, you had learned to read him over the course of the trip. His body language and the way his eyes looked in different situations made it fairly easy for you to know what mood Jotaro was in. Take it from growing up in a home where you'd have to guess what your parent's mood was based on their footsteps alone, but your analyzing of his behavior made it easy to figure him out. Jotaro had a cold demeanor, yes, but he was also undeniably loyal, and he was worried deeply about his mother and friends. He protected those close to him with everything he could, and, not to mention, he did have a kickass sense of humor sometimes. You noticed little things about Jotaro too. You took note of how his face started sweating when he got stressed, his right nostril twitching slightly as well, or how he pulled his hat over his eyes when he got flustered or embarrassed, covering that up with his signature mutter of "good grief". You also started looking up to Jotaro the more you witnessed him fight, with Star Platinum's pure strength being something truly out of this world.

And while you weren't the most effective when it came to pure strength and close-hand combat, your Stand was strong enough to defend you most times, and your mind-manipulation saved the team's asses plenty as well. Your strategic and quick-thinking skills were impressive, and similar to Noriaki, you were able to come up with plans at the speed of light to figure out when an enemy Stand user was scheming something. This helped you bond with Noriaki, too. Both of you quickly became the team's strategists.

You and the guys basically bonded over beating ass. That's a given, though, considering the mission you and the gang were on.

You remember that one night, after you guys defeated the Sun. Jotaro, Noriaki, and you were sitting around a fire while Joseph and Polnareff were asleep. Avdol was still out of commission because of the shot wound, and Iggy, the dog Stand user that would later join you, wasn't there yet either. Or was he? (You aren't sure anymore.).

The three of you were talking. Well, kinda, it was mostly you and Noriaki talking about an ongoing manga that came out after a video game series, while Jotaro sat and listened to you, occasionally throwing in a comment or two. It was easy talking to the guys, maybe because all of you were the same age. That night, the three of you fell asleep by the fire with a light mood in the air. Nowadays, you look back on small moments like these fondly, a warmth embracing your heart.

But it hasn't always been that way.

"Death is inevitable. We all die one day."

Avdol muttered these words a few nights before he would die. The group of you were in a hotel room, most likely Joseph's. Iggy was asleep on the bed, Jotaro was smoking a cigarette with Polnareff on the balcony, and Noriaki was still in the hospital. You, Avdol, and Joseph sat at the table and drank coffee. You started the conversation. The injuries everyone, including you, got during the trip were heavy on your mind.

"Do you guys ever worry about dying here? Like, at all?" You broke the comfortable silence that was in the air. Your anxiety gnawed at your heart.

"Where did that question come from?" Joseph looked at you and laughed; today you know that it was a strained laugh, uncomfortable, even. Avdol only looked at you with a raised brow.

Joseph laughing made your 17-year-old self feel insecure about your feelings. You averted your gaze to your hands and started fiddling with them. "I.. I don't know. To be honest, I've just been thinking about death a lot these past few days, I guess. Day 50 is about three days away as well.." you hesitated. "I'm just overthinking. Forget I said anything." There was a long stretch of silence that followed until Avdol spoke up.

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day." Avdol placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze before continuing. "I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death, and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

Joseph cleared his throat. The topic made him uncomfortable; you know that today. "You know, you're still young." He started. "I don't think you could die without regrets, even if you tried. You're still in high school; you have the whole world to see. I don't plan on letting you kids die, and neither am I letting Holy die. It's not your time yet."

He was right. It wasn't your time. Neither was it Noriaki's, Avdol's, or Iggy's. But unlike the aforementioned, you were lucky enough to survive the battle against DIO.

To be frank, you barely made it. DIO targeted you after he killed Noriaki. And just before finishing you off completely, Joseph attacked him. If it weren't for him, you'd have been mush on the sidewalk.

You were hospitalized for about a month and a half after the battle. Your parents were told you were in a car accident with your "research group". In reality, DIO dropped a car onto your body. Your stand protected you well enough from dying, but you still had grave injuries. Part of your lower spine and hip got crushed. They performed surgery, added some metal plates and some other high-tech stuff to your bones so you would be able to walk again, and you also had to get a kidney transplant. There was some more stuff to it, but you never bothered to remember what they did in detail. The memory stung too much.

None of your physical pain could even compare to what you felt emotionally, anyway.

Survivor's guilt honestly ate you up alive. It gnawed on your heartstrings and burned as if someone poured a bottle of chili sauce on your heart and lungs. You felt even more horrible when you couldn't attend Noriaki's funeral. Joseph was the only one to go. Jotaro felt too guilty to be there.

Speaking of, Jotaro frequently visited you in the hospital.

You would've thought that Jotaro wanted to forget all about the trip and bury it—and you—in the past. But no, he often came by. He paid more attention in class, you noticed, since he always brought you notes. He also helped you study.

You avoided the topic of the trip like the plague at first. Until you couldn't.

When you got out of the hospital, Jotaro and you spoke much more at school since you joined him on the roof during his smoke breaks (you picked up the habit as well, not your proudest moment). So, it was weird to not see you at school that day.

Jotaro has felt uneasy a few times in his life. That day was one of them. He knew that your parents weren't going to be home for another two weeks; you told him that they were on a month-long vacation overseas, which in turn meant that you'd been alone for a while. He would never have admitted it out loud back then, but he was worried about you, especially because, as he came to find out, you didn't call in sick that day either.

He got even more worried when you didn't open the door. He rang the bell at least six times and knocked for three solid minutes until he got sick of it. He used Star Platinum to open your door from the inside and let himself in. He was panicking, picturing a bloody mess in your room. He thought, maybe that one pawn of DIO's, that DIO wrote about in his diary, hunted you down to finish you off and get revenge. He pictured blood, a corpse—the most grotesque image you could think of—and his heart pumped harder with every step he took towards your room.

He busted your door down when he walked in. It might not have been graceful, but fuck it. He blamed the adrenaline later on.

The first thing Jotaro saw was shattered glass on the floor. It looked like it was a mirror once. The next things were your school supplies that were scattered everywhere, as well as dirt and a destroyed flower pot. Your wardrobe apparently joined the mess too. Its broken, wooden remains adorning the ground, and a lot of your clothes were at the center of it. If it hadn't been for your cowering form in the very back corner of the room, Jotaro would have thought you'd been robbed.

That night, you remember, they appeared in your dream. They, as in, your friends who didn't survive the trip. You were all meeting up in Jotaro's garden, and everyone was a little older. It was fun; it felt warm; it felt like home. There was laughter coming from Joseph and Avdol; they were laughing at Iggy and Polnareff, who were fighting as usual. Noriaki was helping Holy pour tea into everyone's cup, and you and Jotaro were on the side, smoking a cigarette.

That's how you knew it was a dream; you were smoking. You only started after the Egypt trip, much to your doctor's disappointment.

It was a beautiful dream. And it sucked. It sucked because it wasn't reality. It sucked because Iggy, Avdol, and Noriaki were dead, and they were never coming back.

When you woke up that day, you almost couldn't get out of bed. Your bed was comfortable; it was safe. Your room was safe. Until it didn't feel safe anymore.

The dream didn't trigger the breakdown. It was stupid (a comment your therapist would scold you for), actually. It was a dog barking in your neighbor's garden. This past week, you noticed that your neighbors got a new puppy. Also, guess what? Of course, the fucking puppy had to be black and white. During that time, you repressed all memories of the group, apart from when they appeared in your dream. However, for some fucking dumbass reason, that dog just brought everything back.

Your chest tightened in that moment. You knew the feeling of having to cry, and although you didn't want to, the tears just came. Usually, that wouldn't be a problem. You could wipe the tears, take a breath, and go about your day. That day, you couldn't.

Everything made you angry. You were extremely frustrated, and when you looked into the mirror, you didn't see yourself; all you saw was failure. You saw yourself as an utter, embarrassing failure. A mess that couldn't protect your friends for the life of you. The sight pissed you off. You grabbed the mirror and smashed it on the ground; the glass was in pieces on your floor. When you turned around, you saw your desk, your homework from the day prior still being there. Fuck it, fuck school, fuck every single thing. You didn't deserve it. Why did you get to do your homework when Noriaki, who should have been able to do it, was now a rotting corpse inside of an ugly casket with a huge ass hole in his chest? Fuck no. You threw it all on the ground, enraged that you would even have the nerve to go about your life normally. You throwing your homework on the ground also caused your flower pot to smash into pieces, joining the mess. While you were at it, you thought, there was a polaroid of you and three of your friends from school that was taken during the last summer festival in your town. It was hung up on your closet door. You were smiling in the picture, holding up a peace sign with one hand and a small fan with the other. Just who the fuck did you think you were to believe you deserved any sort of fun? You threw your closet onto the ground as well, the wood cracking as it hit the floor, coating your clothes with wooden splinters.

At the same time, you couldn't stop crying. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Not only that, your usually silent hiccups turned into full-blown sobs, and your sobs started turning into screams. Your chest hurt, and it became difficult to breathe. You couldn't take a deep breath anymore; and to be honest, you weren't even sure if you were able to take a regular breath. Whenever you tried, a heartbroken sob would interrupt your attempt. Your inability to breathe made your heart pump faster in your chest, and it hurt. Everything hurt: your throat, your chest, your head, your hands. You were trembling but sweating, as if you ran a marathon; simultaneously, you felt cold as if you sat naked in fucking snow. You didn't know that it was a panic attack back then, you found that out when you went to therapy a few months later. At that moment, however, you felt as though you were dying.

"You're alive." Jotaro muttered when he saw you crouched in the corner that was opposite to your bed.

"I wish I wasn't." You replied with a hoarse voice.

"I know." was his reply as he sat down next to you on the ground. Jotaro usually never sat down on the ground.

You sat in silence until nighttime that day. He never left your side. And while he didn't hug you or tell you that everything would be okay, you felt safe.

You guys started talking about Egypt after that incident. Jotaro basically dragged you out of your broken-down room and to his place. Holy didn't ask questions for once when she saw you, which Jotaro appreciated.

That night, you opened up about how you felt about everything. Looking back, you know that it must have been really fucking hard for Jotaro to listen. Even though he acted like it didn't affect him that much, nowadays, you know how Jotaro felt, and still feels, about Egypt.

Weirdly enough, the trauma made you two bond even more than the entire Egypt trip. Your therapist says that is because the two of you share a traumatic experience that not many people can relate to.

Oh, yeah, your therapist. Jotaro told Joseph about your panic attack, who, in turn, made you go to the best therapist he could find in Japan. Your first therapist retired about ten years ago; now you have another one. Joseph, funnily enough, still pays for it, even though you're more than capable of footing the bill yourself. That senile old man forgets every single thing on this planet but somehow never forgets to pay that bill every month.

Your therapist got the same story your parents did: a car accident with your research group. Three of your squad members died; you got critically injured; yada yada. They helped you, though. Ever since you started, you have learned to deal with your emotions better. You also haven't destroyed your room since going.

Back to the past and how you and Jotaro bonded, though. Not only did you smoke cigarettes together during your lunch breaks at school, you met up a lot in private. You hung out and read manga together in silence. Often times you also played video games, a habit you two picked up after Noriaki died. Noriaki loved video games.

You learned to appreciate Jotaro a lot. You often stayed over at his place and learned about some of the things he was passionate about. Contrary to popular belief at school, Jotaro was extremely intelligent and started taking his studies seriously after Egypt. Often times, he was even top of the class when it came to his exams. He was also super into marine life, something you noticed when you visited his room for the first time. When you asked him to tell you about it, he didn't shut up for about two hours. You've never heard so many words come out of Jotaro's mouth, like, ever.

And while you were oblivious to it at first, he slowly started to occupy your thoughts.

It came gradually, your crush on Jotaro. At first, it was just you missing him on days you weren't hanging out together. Then, your heartbeat picked up when you spoke to him or saw him. You started to feel giddy when you met up and you started dreaming of him.

It was super fucking embarrassing.

But it also felt super fucking good to love Jotaro. You weren't going to say shit, though. Ever.

Your dynamic never changed. You and Jotaro were practically glued at the hip at some point. It was obvious that you were going to follow Jotaro to the USA for college when he proposed that he wanted to study marine biology in Florida.

When you and him went, you got an apartment from Joseph as a gift. The two of you were supposed to be roommates all throughout college. And, honestly, you hoped to be roommates for the rest of your life.

It was fun being roommates. It really was. Freshly eighteen and graduated, the two of you entered your apartment and lived to the fullest. You cooked together, watched movies, played video games, and, of course, you were there for each other when it was needed.

Even though the two of you were in therapy, night terrors were still frequent enough at that time. It was always the same pattern. One of you would wake up from the nightmare, wake the other up to talk and then you would go into the living room and talk about it, or just cry.

One of these nights was also the first time Jotaro hugged you.

Jotaro was the one with a night terror that time. The two of you were sat on the couch in the living room as he talked to you about Noriaki appearing in his dreams. You listened, as you usually did, and that was all he needed. He knew you understood, and he knew you were there. This exact stability gave both of you comfort. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and just held you. He didn't say anything, and you didn't think he needed to.

Although, looking back, you definitely interpreted that hug wrong. While it made your heart flutter, to Jotaro, it was nothing more than showing appreciation.

Jotaro introduced you to his girlfriend about three years after the two of you moved to the US. She was a lovely girl, blonde, perfect figure, beautiful face and a disgustingly sweet personality. All in all; she was the perfect package, and she looked fucking perfect next to your perfect, perfect Jotaro. Shit.

You wish you could say you hated her guts, but you couldn't.

You couldn't hate her, because Jotaro loved her. He loved her more than words could describe, and you knew it. You knew from his eyes, from his body language and from the way he talked about her.

Oh, and if all of that wasn't enough, he got her pregnant about a year after they got together, and the two of them got married in the same year (her parents insisted—they were very religious). If you look at their wedding pictures, you could see the bump under her dress. If you look at the wedding pictures again, you'll see yourself standing next to Jotaro with a big smile on your face. You're a great actress, you've got to give yourself that credit.

You moved out of the apartment about a month before Jotaro's daughter was born. They needed the space, and you didn't want to trouble the newlyweds with moving, so you sucked it up and left the apartment you called home for three years. Joseph was generous, as you'd come to notice. He had a single-bedroom apartment that he gifted you, and he claimed that it wouldn't feel right to him if you had to rent, especially as a college student. You took it, obviously.

Jolyne was a beautiful little girl. Jotaro made you her godmother; no questions asked. After he got married and had a kid, you'd think the two of you would lose touch, but no. Jotaro made sure to call you at least once a day and insisted on weekly meetups. You don't know if that was because he got so used to you that he couldn't live without your presence or because he knew that solitude made you spiral mentally, but you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. It felt good to be around Jotaro, even if it hurt to see him live a life you've been fantasizing of having with him.

Most importantly, however, you were a rock in Jotaro's life that he couldn't live without, and that feeling was mutual. Your therapist would call it an unhealthy attachment, but neither of you cared. You needed each other close.

"You're stressed." Your eyes locked with Jotaro's just a moment prior. The blue hue in them was as bright as ever, but his expression, the small furrow of his brow, and the slight twitch of his left nostril gave him away.

"Fucking figured that out from just a look? Good grief." He sighed as he averted his gaze. Jotaro couldn't pull his hat down to hide his embarrassment, as he would usually do. Ever since he got together with his wife, she asked him to take it off when they were home.

"I've lived with you for years, Jotaro. I can even figure out when you're about to shit your pants because you had a fucking McDonald's milkshake. Spit it out; what's bothering you?"

"She has the birthmark. I.. Fuck, I can't even sleep anymore." Jotaro and you were sitting on his balcony while you were taking a smoke. He stopped that habit before Jolyne was born, but picked it back up a few months later. He rubbed his temple as he closed his eyes.

"You're scared that this pawn of DIO's, that he wrote about in his diary, is gonna hunt her down one day, huh?" You replied, your eyes still locked on his form.

"I am. Yeah. Fucking terrified, actually. I never would've thought I'd become a softie like this."

"That's the parental instinct, Jotaro. It's love. You understand your mom a little better now, huh?"

"I do. I was a fucking bitch to her back then."

"You still are a bitch, you know?" You joked, putting out your now-finished cigarette.

"Shut the fuck up." He shook his head, though his lips were curled in a very small smile. He did this more often, ever since Jolyne was born.

"You know damn well you don't want me to shut up."

"You're right. I don't."

It was a Saturday night in 1999 when Jotaro rang you out of your sleep to tell you to join him on a trip back to Japan. He had to pay his uncle a visit. Yeah, uncle. Apparently, Joseph cheated on Suzie Q with a college student back in the early eighties. The Kujo/Joestar family was sort of a mess for a while afterwards.

The person you felt the most sorry for was Josuke, the kid. He was pulled into all of this for no reason.

Jotaro asked you to join him because he "needed your assistance" to track some enemy stand users who used an arrow that turned other people into stand users. You knew that he didn't need your help, but he wanted to get you out of your house. You remember that you felt like shit at that time, because your long-term boyfriend broke up with you. His reasoning was that he didn't feel like he was the love of your life and he wasn't wrong about that. You loved him, you really did, but he wasn't Jotaro. The love of your life would forever be Jotaro, no matter how many people you tried to date as a desperate attempt to dull the ache that your heart was consumed by every day. And, of course, you accepted Jotaro's offer to go together. You always would.

Morioh was an experience, to say the least.

Not only were there more Stand users than you'd ever seen in your life, it was also a strangely wholesome journey.

Josuke was a great kid, and so were his friends. The bond between everyone really warmed your heart, and you were happy that you got to be part of it. Although you had to admit that you certainly weren't prepared to find and fight an actual serial killer, who was, of course, a Stand user as well. Looking back at it, though, the kids were very reliable, Josuke almost defeated that Kira guy all by himself after all.

Josuke, Okoyasu, and Koichi also caused some embarrassing tension between you and Jotaro at some point.

"Ya know, it's actually super cute." Josuke grinned at you.

"What is?" You paused and set down your coffee cup. It was your last few days in Morioh, and you were at a café the kids frequented. Jotaro and you sat next to each other while Koichi, Okoyasu, and Josuke sat across from you. Joseph was also there with Shizuka, the baby he and Josuke found.

"The two of you. Why didn't y'all tell us you were married?" Okoyasu commented with a pout.

Jotaro and you exchanged looks with a raised brow. Then it clicked: Jotaro was wearing his ring.

"It's because we're not married." Jotaro deadpanned.

"Oh." All three of them got quiet. "We just.. We thought you were because of, uhm.. the ring. Sorry." Josuke averted his gaze.

"Don't worry, Josuke. I mean, the big, mean guy doesn't really talk much about his family. Do you guys even know he has a kid?"

You successfully changed the subject by bringing up Jolyne back then. The guys drilled Jotaro to tell them everything, and although he was never a big talker, he did talk about Jolyne. He adored her; everyone knew so. Jotaro's eyes lit up just a tiny bit whenever he could tell people about her. The subject change allowed you to stay for a few minutes before you made up an excuse to leave the guys. When you left the café, you immediately went to the cemetery. Coincidentally, Morioh was Noriaki's hometown and also his resting place.

You had never mustered up the courage to visit Noriaki's grave before. It felt weird, looking at the stone with his name, but regardless, you sat down in front of the grave and spoke to him. To anyone else, you probably looked like a maniac. You couldn't tell anyone else about your feelings for Jotaro and you figured Noriaki would enjoy an update on your life after twelve years, even if it was sort of depressing as fuck.

It felt liberating, telling Noriaki everything. Even if he wasn't physically in front of you, you felt as though he was right there, listening to every single word you had to say, and by the end of your monologue, you were crying.

What you didn't expect was Joseph standing next to you after you had been crying like a bitch at Noriaki's grave for a while. You jolted when he said your name.

"You know, the only reason you two didn't end up together was Jolyne, right? He loves you, but he's terrified of losing you." His older, raspy voice spoke softly.

"How would you even know that?" You questioned the old man, but you didn't make eye contact with him. Your eyes were glued to Noriaki's gravestone.

"Because I know what it looks like when you're someone's whole world. You're his world, and he can't lose that. Being your friend is easier than taking the risk of the two of you ever breaking up in the future."

Joseph's words made you cry again. They hurt even more than if Jotaro ever rejected you personally, because they meant that it was hopeless. No matter what, you could never, ever be with him.

Jotaro got divorced from his wife in 2002, three years after Morioh. By that time, you were a successful lawyer in a big firm, while Jotaro was a big researcher in marine biology; he even got a doctorate. You and him hadn't seen each other in a month at that point. Both of you were busy; Jotaro was often on trips for either the Speedwagon foundation, because of possible clues regarding that one friend of DIO's, or he was doing actual research regarding his job. You were busy because you thought that drowning yourself in work would help you move on from him. Spoiler alert; it didn't.

The way you found out about the divorce was when Jotaro showed up at your doorstep one day with a big suitcase in his hand.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You'd gotten home half an hour prior, so you were still dressed in your work attire.

"We filed for divorce. Can I move in for a while?" He asked, though; he had already made his way into your house. He knew you wouldn't say no.

And you didn't. You guys lived together for about five years after he moved in. He even paid half of the bills, and you almost felt like you did when you guys were still living together in college.

Living together with Jotaro was easy; it was warm, and it also fucking sucked. You couldn't avoid your feelings when the two of you were together all the time. Everything felt too fucking domestic, and it made you want to cry.

Jotaro was the perfect roommate; he made you guys breakfast whenever he wasn't on a trip. He cleaned up the house when you were working late; he went grocery shopping. Fuck, he even knew when you would be on your period and made sure you were stacked up on pads and painkillers. Since you only had one big bathroom in your rather small house, he kept the door open while he shaved his stubble, so you could brush your teeth and do your makeup for the day. You guys were basically acting like a married couple, except for the legal status and the romantic aspect.

You noticed that Jotaro wasn't truly happy, though, and you knew why. After getting divorced, Jotaro essentially abandoned Jolyne. The reason why Jotaro and his wife got divorced was because his ex was tired of him rarely being home. She lost feelings for him along the way and gave him the divorce papers about two days before he showed up at your doorstep. The divorce didn't hit Jotaro as hard, he told you. What did hit him was that he didn't see Jolyne much. They maybe saw one another once every two or three months. You felt sorry for her; the divorce hurt that beautiful girl and your heart broke for her. You visited Jolyne and her mother a lot, even after the divorce, because you wanted her to still have a small constant in her life. You supported her whenever you could. However, Jotaro asked you to not bring her to the house. He started distancing himself from her, because he was growing anxious the older she got. DIO's friend and the diary never left Jotaro's mind and he simply didn't want Jolyne to be in danger. You understood, so, slowly, you started distancing yourself too.

It was 2007 when Jotaro asked you to move back to Japan with him. Jolyne, who was 14 at the time, got arrested for car theft. Jotaro pulled the harshest dick move he could and told his ex-wife that he wasn't going to help her bail Jolyne out and that he got a job offer as a professor at Tokyo University, which he accepted. His ex didn't even have time to cuss him out before he hung up the phone. Jotaro had ultimately abandoned his daughter, and even if he tried to play tough, he was devastated because he didn't want to leave her behind.

Why did you know that? Well, Jotaro still had night terrors. So, of course, your old tradition of going to the living room to talk it out had been picked up again. Jotaro hated himself for abandoning Jolyne, but he kept saying that he'd rather cut all ties with her to keep her safe than watch her die in front of him. You agreed with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself either, if you were in his shoes.

Of course you agreed to follow him back to Japan; you'd follow him anywhere he went anyway; he didn't even need to ask. Home is where he is. Even if it meant quitting your job at the law firm.

You were more at ease in Japan anyway. It's home. Plus, you got to visit Josuke and the others in Morioh more often, and, of course, Noriaki's grave. The kids grew up a lot in the years you haven't seen them. Josuke got his doctorate to become a surgeon, Koichi worked as a criminal psychologist, and Okoyasu got a job as a police officer. Oh, and Koichi and Yukako got engaged. Yeah, they certainly weren't kids anymore.

When you moved back, Jotaro and you decided to move in together again. It proved useful with the bills, and you got used to one another's presence anyway. You definitely weren't complaining about spending more time with him. After he accepted the position as a professor, he had more time on his hands compared to when he worked in research. He was still trying to hunt down DIO's little buddy, though. Still, it wasn't as bad as before, and he was home a lot more.

You got a new job in the American Consulate of Japan about six months after moving back with Jotaro. It was pretty boring, but the bills got paid. During work, you always looked forward to the evenings when you got home, because usually Jotaro would have a meal prepared for the two of you. You started eating dinner together every night after some time. It was always one of you waiting for the other one to get home, then you would heat up the food and eat together, either in front of the TV, binging a show you liked, or you sat at the dinner table, where you would talk about anything and everything. It was nice seeing Jotaro let lose even if it was just a tiny bit.

It was about four months after moving to Japan when you and Jotaro began implementing a "besties day". It honestly was just a synonym for a date night, if you think back to it. The two of you would either go for a walk, go on a small road trip, or have dinner at a nice restaurant, and, at some point down the line, the energy between the two of you shifted. He started to put his arm around your shoulder while you'd watch a movie, and you'd play with his hand sometimes. You fell asleep on the couch so often that you guys just decided to sleep in the same bed and set up a TV in Jotaro's bedroom, your own bedroom basically turned into a room where you kept your clothes, nothing more.

It was on one of those evenings when you almost confessed your love to Jotaro.

You remember that the two of you were watching Zoolander on Jotaro's bed. He had his arm around your shoulder, and you were cuddled up to his side, his arm a heavy but welcome weight on your body. Jotaro was caressing your back as he stared at the TV, and his face got illuminated beautifully by the light of the TV. While Jotaro focused on the hilarious movie that played, your eyes were solely set on him. You took in how he had a few bags under his eyes, signaling that he was tired, and he wore his hair shorter compared to when you were teens, but the haircut complimented his face perfectly. From the side, his jawline and nose stood out to you. Jotaro had a light crook to his nose, but it looked good on him. Additionally, Jotaro was still a giant, muscular and tall (curse his amazing genetics and his gym habit.), just like when you were younger. Your heartbeat picked up in the moment, and you couldn't help but smile. Jotaro was so, so beautiful and you couldn't contain how happy all of this made you.

"You're so beautiful, Jotaro." You mumbled as you looked up to lock eyes with him.

"Where did that come from all of a sudden?" Jotaro stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening just slightly, before looking back at you.

"I dunno. I.. just felt the sudden need to let you know. I think you're so beautiful, Jotaro, I really do. Call me a sap or whatever, but I have never met a man as beautiful as you. Inside and out." You kept your eyes locked with his. Your words came from your heart and this would be the closest you could get to confessing your love to him without directly telling him.

Jotaro blushed just a hint, but you couldn't see it in the darkness. The movie might have lit up the room a tad, but it was not enough to make out the small pink hue on his cheek. He averted his eyes and pulled you closer to him while clearing his throat. There was a few minutes of silence before he spoke up.

"I think you're beautiful too."

You've never felt happier, but of course, it wasn't going to last.

It was January 21st of 2009 and you were just on your way out of a store. It would be Jotaro's birthday soon and you were out to shop for a present for him. You decided that a new watch would be appropriate, since he has been saying that he needed to get a watch soon. The watch you got was rather simple, a thick, silver wristband and the clock had blue details that accentuated the silver. Figuring silver would go perfectly with his skin tone, as it is more on the cool side, and the blue details would fit his eyes, you happily bought it for him and gripped the bag tightly when you left the store.

Since you were out late to avoid the massive rush-hour crowd, it was 10PM sharp when you reached the train station. You were alone and listening to music, when you noticed a figure close to where you were standing. It was a tall man you had never seen before, but you didn't really feel threatened by him. The man had long, white hair and sat on a bench, his eyes were entirely white, too and he held onto a cane. Thus, you figured he might be blind. You took out your phone, an iPhone 3G, a newly released phone that still shocked you. A touch screen was just super futuristic to you, considering you remember the old landline times. Geez, now you felt old. You sent out a text to Jotaro, telling him you're at the station and that you'd be home soon.

You waited for the train for roughly five minutes before you heard a loud bang, followed by a few more. A sharp pain spread throughout your body; first in your throat, then in your abdomen and in your legs, then you felt it in your shoulder. You heard the clunk of small metal pieces falling onto the floor.

You sink to the floor. You're falling into liquid, a lot of it pooling around you more and more by the second. You can't breathe, only gargling out because there is blood pooling in your mouth as well. It's cold, everything is cold. Your heart is pumping loudly in your chest and your head is getting foggier by the second. Did you really just get shot? But how? There was nothing there! You turn your head weakly, spitting blood out onto the pavement as you desperately try to inhale just a tiny bit of air. This can't happen. You can't die like this!

But you are.

You grab onto the bag you held in your hand tightly. The bag that carries Jotaro's birthday gift. Fuck, Jotaro? He's home, he's waiting for you. You have to call him, you have to get home to him! You can't leave him here, you can't go! You have to be there for him! Who will be there for him when you are gone? You have so much to say to him, you haven't even told him that you love him!

You look around. Your sight is getting increasingly foggy and your heart and lungs are burning. Everything is wet and hurts. Everything is hard. You're dying, you know you're dying. You're actively bleeding out in a random train station and you cannot do anything about it. You start to panic; your heart is picking up it's pace, and you choke on your own blood again.

All of a sudden, you hear Avdol's voice in the distance. Avdol? Why is Avdol speaking to you?

"Death is inevitable. Each one of us is going to die one day. I'm not scared of dying, no. If I live my life to the fullest, I will never have regrets, and if I have no regrets, I can die without worries. It's the only way to fight the fear of death- and let me give you this piece of advice; it's how you live a happier life."

You freeze. You have to call Jotaro, you have to call him right fucking now. Where the fuck is your god damn phone?! You spot it a few feet away from you, on the floor and try crawling your way towards it. As you do so, the blood keeps flooding out of your body, leaving a red, ugly trail on the white tiles of the station. Every move is excruciatingly painful, but you have to bite through it. Your only focus right now is calling Jotaro. You cannot leave this world before telling him.

You try crawling, but you can't go any further. Your limbs shake and you can't hold yourself upright anymore. Wait, that's it! Head in the Clouds! You haven't used it in years, but now, now you need it more than ever before. You called Head in the Clouds out to make it grab your phone; which it does, albeit slowly. Its grey, ghostly form mirrored your state. It was weak, but it still reached out to the small, square mobile device as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

It's just a few seconds, just a few more seconds, please! You keep repeating the word "please" in your head; you have to stay awake for just a few more seconds. You won't die here, you refuse to die here! There's so much more you want to do! You want to kiss Jotaro, you want to wake up next to him one more time! You want to hug him tight and go on another walk! You want to see his beautiful eyes reflected in the mirror as he shaves his face while you're brushing your teeth next to him! You can't go!

Avdol's words play in a loop in your head as you shakily try to unlock your tiny phone. Your bloody fingers smear the screen and your head keeps lulling to the side as you force yourself through these painful moments.

Avdol said you shouldn't have any regrets if you want to fight the fear of death. You have regrets, you're terrified of leaving this world.

You make it. You successfully dial Jotaro's number. You hear his voice on the other line.

"Hey, why are you calling? You just texted me. Everything okay?"

His voice. His beautiful, beautiful deep voice. God, you love his voice so much. It's such a warm sound for your soul. Never stop talking, Jotaro.

You spit out more blood as you try taking any sort of breath. Your voice is barely there as you choke out his name.

"J-Jo... Jota...ro.."

Jotaro calls out your name, his voice sounds serious now. Worried, even. You can't answer him. He calls out your name louder.

"This isn't fucking funny! What's wrong?! Are you okay?!"

Wow, he sounds like he's panicking. Or does he? You're not sure anymore. His voice is far away. You want him to keep saying your name, but not like this. You don't want him to worry, you want him to be happy. Will he be happy? Can he move on when you're gone? He has to. You know he won't have a choice.

Maybe it's better to die regretful than hurting him even more. He'll feel guilty, if you tell him you love him. He shouldn't feel guilty, you don't want him to. It's okay, you think. He doesn't need to know.

You muster up a big breath, your body feels light. It doesn't hurt anymore. You're still cold and it's wet, but it's okay. Your heartbeat slows down.

"J-Jojo.. I'm.. okay.. " He hates the name. You know he does. But it's easier on your voice right now.

"Where are you?! Are you still at the station?! Were you attacked?!"

He sounds scared. Please don't be scared, Jotaro. Please don't be scared for me, you think.

"'m.. okay. Don't-" you cough up a little more blood. "It's not your fault, Jojo.. It never was."

You won't tell him. He's scared. He will be hurting even more. You can't do that to him.

"What the fuck do you mean "not my fault"? Tell me where you are, please! Are you hurt?!" Jotaro's voice is cracking. He's yelling into the phone.

You can't feel your arm anymore and your eyes lose focus. Your phone drops to the floor, next to you, right into the crimson pool around you. Your head is pounding and you feel so, so tired. You can close your eyes for just a second, right?

You see Iggy in front of you when you open your eyes again. He's wagging his tiny tail as he bites your hand softly to wake you up. When you look around, you see Avdol, shaking his head slightly as he crosses his arms, but then he gives a small smile. Noriaki is crouching next to you and smiling sadly.

"I wish we didn't see you again this soon. But destiny has its own plans, huh?" Noriaki spoke. His voice was soft, so soft. He still sounds this same. You feel warmer, somehow and there's no wetness clinging onto your clothes anymore. Noriaki takes your hand as he helps you get up.

"Come on, we have to go."

"Go where?"

"To the other side"

You hesitate. But then Avdol takes your other hand and Iggy walks ahead of you guys with a joyful bark. Everything feels warm here, it's so nice.

"Okay."

So, you go. You disappear with the three of them and you feel happy. You don't mind having to wait in order to see Jotaro again one day.

It's January 31st of 2009 at 8PM when Jotaro stands in front of your gravestone. He brought you a bouquet of white roses, which he lays down gently at your resting place. He is wearing the watch you bought on the day you died. If you were still here, you'd probably be overjoyed to see him wearing it.

Joseph is next to him, the two men staring down at the cold stone.

"I loved her. I loved her more than anyone I have ever loved in my life." Jotaro speaks up after half an hour of just standing in front of your grave.

"I know." Joseph just replies, one hand on his cane and his other hand placed softly on Jotaro's shoulder. If you looked at the pair closely, you'd see Jotaro's shoulders shaking just a tiny bit.

Jotaro was the love of your life. But sometimes, destiny has other plans for people who truly love each other.

So, yeah, love really fucking sucks for Jotaro and you.

#jotaro x reader #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro kujo #jojos bizarre adventure #heartbreak

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