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champagnefountains · 3 months

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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).

It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief).

Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.

Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.

So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud.

“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?”

“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan.

The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.

Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks.

“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.”

There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”

A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard.

“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!”

Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake.

“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.”

“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?”

For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.

If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.

“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.

“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on.

Earlier on:

On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.

You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.

Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement.

“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”

“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding.

"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.”

You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot.

“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes.

“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?”

Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!”

“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page.

“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.

“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.”

There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.

“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you.

Currently:

Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear.

After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.

After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him.

Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie.

“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–”

“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.

As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.

“Oh, fuck no!”

Chapter III - Finale [x]

Thank you for reading!

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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divineidolatry · 3 months

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CONSTANTLY IN THE DARKNESS — CHAPTER 1

— written by june.

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader*

rating: explicit (18+) — mind the tags, see masterlist for disclaimers

summary: against your wishes, you call the curtain on your relationship with coriolanus snow and walk out of his life for good. against your wishes, he waltzes back in like nothing's changed.

tags: exes to lovers, it's complicated, slow burn but they're constantly fucking, manipulation, toxic relationship, power play, unprotected sex, bdsm, dom!coriolanus, sub!reader, edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, spit kink, bondage, pearl play, choking, shoe riding, degradation, dirty talk, brat taming, penetrative sex (piv), aftercare

taglist: comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist.

wordcount: 4,352

just before our love got lost you said "i am as constant as a northern star" and i said "constantly in the darkness, where's that at? if you want me i'll be in the bar."

“Coriolanus…” You drop the silver cutlery on the fine porcelain, the sound sharp enough that he winces. Good. This should hurt him as much as it hurts you. “What are we even doing anymore?”

His face holds that cold expression you can’t read, beautiful and impossible, a question you saw the first day you met him and you knew you wanted to crack him open.

You always knew he had ambition, and you possessed plenty to match. Power called to you from an early age, you’d just gotten smarter about you grabbed it. Still, he made you better. He made you sharper. And in turn, you could make him look soft enough to please.

But the parts of you that slotted together like perfect gears before had grown jagged and mismatched now. His ambitions mean more than you. They come before you. A part of you thinks it would be okay if he still made room for you at the end of the night, but it’s all perfunctory and dutiful.

“We need to talk. Actually talk.”

It’s not for a lack of trying to understand him, but there’s walls in Coryo that shift position, closing him off when you’re not careful enough. Talking with him turns into talking to him. He never did share much, even when you made it clear that you supported his ambitions, never troubling him with your own. You’re big girl, after all, independent and capable, you can hold your own value and underscore his. You know how to charm the worst of them and flatter the best of them, you are an asset beyond compare and yet he’s losing interest. Galling.

“I’ve been loyal, beyond a shadow of a doubt. I’ve kept clean in public so you can defile me in private. I play your game so well, and yet…” You flick your finger against the crystal wine glass, lipstick stains rimming the edge. You dressed to the nines tonight, giving him a last chance to look at you, at everything you offered him as a partner in every sense of the word. “You make me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

His silence hangs heavy and painful in the air between you two. There’s something so pristine and perfect about the room that itches in your gut, that sometimes makes you want to take the knife and stab him through the back of his hand just to see if he’d even flinch.

“Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

Oh, how icy his gaze is. It cuts right through you, past all your defenses.

These dinners, once bubbling with conversation and excited plans about the next chance you’d have to shift the board, have turned to quiet and perfunctory affairs now. He meets your eyes less and less on the university campus. You spend hours waiting for him in the quiet hallways on the top floor no one goes to, doing your seminar readings in the same hidden alcove where he once liked to make you moan so high a rumor had spread of a ghost haunting.

It doesn’t matter to you that he is busy, it mattered that he stopped including you, that he didn’t even try. And you can’t get through to him. It’s getting sad — worse, stale. On top of that, people are talking. Gossip loud enough that you could hear it from the back rows in lecture halls, of discord between Panem’s golden future and his leading lady. Bad metrics for both of you… and it fucking stings too.

His heart isn’t in your mouth anymore, and you are beginning to starve. And he’d let you.

You fold up the napkin, dropping it on top of the half-finished meal, knowing the waste will irk him. Whatever hook you still have in him you will pull on. You must. You refuse to go down without damages.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? It’s easier this way, me deciding to leave you, that way you won’t have to clean up the mess. That’s why you’ve been so cold, right?”

He doesn’t speak. Pushing the chair out, you get up and walk the length of the table, your heels clicking loud against the marble. You move close to him, press your body against his and feel the heat of his breath on your skin… but his expression does not shift, and you shake your head with a pained noise catching in your throat.

“I don’t think you are this cold,” you whisper, slipping your hand in under his shirt, pressing your fingers against his chest. His heart beats hard and strong. “I hope you realize when I’m gone…” You trail off, struggling with the words.

Silence. Again. He’s leaning back in the chair, watching you try to reconcile this… and he is letting you flounder. Has he allowed you to ask for his time with the intention to give you nothing? The cruelty in that hurts even worse.

“Goodbye, Coriolanus.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek, scraping your nails over his skin, hoping it stings as much as his icy silence does. You gather your bag and coat, and leave his penthouse quietly.

In the elevator, you wipe at an errant tear. The air around you feels crushing but you cannot give in under pressure. You won’t.

For a few days, you don’t cry. You had foreseen this outcome to the conversation after all, made your preparations to leave as little behind as possible, and fortified yourself to understand that no matter how perfect a match you seemingly were for each other, you still actively had to choose one another. Whatever had consumed him also kept him from letting you in as he used to, and it meant he was no longer choosing you.

The barb still lodged itself deep in your chest, leaking poison all the same.

You go through the motions, brushing your hair, washing your face, studying. It’s in one of the lectures, the professor slipping through the lackluster material, that it hits like a fist between the ribs, and you clutch at your side remembering how Coryo would have made this make sense to you. It hits all at once how he’s not there, won’t be, he’s not going to make even the dullest media history class shine bright anymore.

When the tears come, it is Clemensia who wipes them away, lets your head rest in her lap, and offers to fetch the rest of your things. She was his friend first; you’d been a year under them in the Academy. When she comes back she doesn’t say if he reacted, though you doubt he was even at home. She strokes your hair, assuring you she won’t pick a side. Through all her care of you in the weeks to come, she proves her words, not letting you flinch away in public.

“Just because he plays a good game,” she reminds you, “doesn’t mean you can’t make a better move.”

You slowly get back on your feet, keeping her words in mind. She helps with applying your makeup on days when your hands are too shaky, keeping your perfectly crafted mask in place. She glues herself to your side as you attend classes, keeping it cordial with Coriolanus while your gaze slips past him. You forgot how good it felt to be someone’s priority.

“Why are you being so nice about this?” you ask one night, exasperated as she’s getting you ready for a party, squirming in your seat. You don’t feel ready for re-emerging into society, but what choice do you have? Crawl into a hole and vanish? You’d never give him the pleasure.

She rolls her eyes and gets up off the floor to fetch a dusty bottle of posca from the shelves.

“It’s not that different,” she says, handing a glass over to you. “I was in his corner too, and it bit me. Hard.” She grimaces, scratching at her wrist before rolling down the sleeve over her hands.

“Did you two…” You have wondered, after all, jealousy flickering at times like a dangerous question mark.

“Not like that! I just needed him to show up for me, to do this one thing, and he was busy chasing his own greatness.”

It's a relief to hear, mostly because you have an easier time believing her than him. “But you got over it.”

“I can’t fault him. If you’re here, it means something, and it’s not always flattering.” She wrinkles her nose at the posca even as she drinks it down. “When you want something so bad because you need to make sense of the world, to bring some sense of order to the chaos of life… I know you get it. He’s always been this way, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Her words are just a whisper as she pins curls in place on your head, her hand lingering to trace your chin as she examines your face.

Clemensia had taken a liking to doing these little things for you, drawing from a deep well of knowledge she’d amassed. It had become an outlet for her, creativity to couple with her own ambition. She liked to practice different looks on you before paring them down to a more fitting style suitable to current trends, but each flourish of her brush warmed your skin.

You knew that duality well — of wanting to create and struggling to find the time and place. Ever since you were small, your parents had clung to the idea that singing lessons and dance classes were of utmost importance, even keeping them going during the war. They wanted you to excel, rise in standing, and it had honed you.

Unbidden, one of his old comments floats up in your mind, making your breath stutter. ‘You have the prettiest voice of all the girls in Panem, do you know that?’ And while you scoffed then, your ego bloomed under his praise. ‘Tell me more about how much you love my voice, Coryo…’

“Hey… come back to me, you better not ruin the hard work I’ve just done, I don’t do hard work for just anyone, you know?” Clemmie teases, but you can see a stern look in her eyes. You don’t have a lot of time, and she isn’t keen to waste it. “We have somewhere to be soon, okay?”

You nod. She’s right. The Capitol’s numerous galas and grand events throughout the year had kept going despite your broken heart, and tonight is the Rose Ball, an extravagant gala held in the grand conservatory with an orchestra playing and the guest list consisting of only the names of the highest esteem in the Capitol. And your name was still on it. Tonight, you intend to make sure it isn’t the last invite sent your way, no matter what.

Clemensia finishes with a lipstick red as wine, smiling as she puts her hands on your shoulders and turns you to the mirror.

“Look at you,” she says, tilting your chin up so the light catches the pearlescent shimmer dusted on your skin. “Everyone will be falling for you. And he will have no choice but to watch what he lost.”

You shiver in excitement.

You share the ride with some people Clemensia knows, and while they gossip away, you sit alone with your thoughts, the mask wavering for a moment. This is the first formal gathering you’re attending since the split… Several months of picking up the pieces to pretend like everything’s fine, to recoup as much of your image as possible, while still doing him the courtesy to not hurt his. You have been so good, and still people look at you as if you made a mistake and not him.

Tonight would be harder to find a bathroom to tuck away into, an empty study room to make your safe haven. No cover to hide behind, so you needed to don the appropriate armor, to appear unaffected. To tell a tale to outdo his. After all, Clemensia’s right, everyone can be made to want you. You will move on, and you will make him regret it while you do. You will remind him that your heart isn’t a delicate plaything, but a fire furious enough to match his.

You play with the pearls around your neck, the matching gold and pearl earrings bouncing against your cheek as the car passes over cobblestoned streets. They are the very same Coriolanus gifted you on your first anniversary, and weighted with memories. You thought about throwing them away immediately after the break-up, but that would have said something about him winning, and you can’t stand that.

Clemensia, hawk-eyed as ever, notices your nervous fiddling and nudges your foot with hers right as the car pulls up to the entrance. “Shall we then?” Clemensia offers you her arm and you take it gratefully. You revel in the sync of your heels clicking as you ascend the hard steps to your most important battlefield yet.

Past the heavy gilded doors, the gala’s milling crowd slows down as you enter, eyes drawn to you. You hold your head high, gripping Clemensia’s arm tight. No one here will get the pleasure of seeing you flinch. They announce your names, and you smile, brilliant and beautiful. The corset underneath your rose-red dress keeps your back straight, reminiscent of old elegances that has the old garde softening for you.

You think you spot him on the far end of the room, but the shadows are long and the lights dimmed. His gaze feels a certain way though, and there’s a wicked warmth in your chest that only he has ever made you feel.

“I’m going to do reconnaissance,” Clemensia says as she gives your hand a squeeze. “Let me get the lay of the land.”

“Go, go.” You wave her off, confidently stepping into a circle that parts to let you in amongst them, laughing at the right time. If there is one dance you know better than any other, it is this: the social graces and manners expected of you in these cutthroat places, where the marble runs red with lies and blood. Your heels know where to step even when sleepwalking.

While your mask does not waver, you sure feel bare under all the scrutiny, hungry gazes roving over every bared slip of skin on your arms. After what feels like hours of compliments, cruelties and layered comments, you find a brief escape in an alcove on the second floor, rubbing at your sore ankles as you catch your breath, head spinning. Roses weigh in on all sides of you, enchanting and heady. If you had to say something nice, it’s that Coriolanus knows how to work with the best event planners the Capitol has to offer.

You rip off a handful of petals, crushing them until the fragrant oils spill forth, and press them down the front of your dress before you get up to continue mingling.

The night is long: a dance with the Featherpillow boy a year your junior who easily dances circles around most of the men here; a glass of champagne with the Fairweather twins as you chat about the latest fashion trends and they enviously compliment your pearls; Clemensia whisking you away to a polite and stiff conversation with the Ravenstills. The night goes on for some time in this manner, gliding between dances, advances, and gossip. No one can seem to keep you in one place.

And everywhere you go, you feel the constant, unrelenting pierce of eyes on you. Not just the masses… his.

You are showing him up. Everyone knows it. Coming to his event with seemingly no hard feelings, dressed like a classical painting, fielding every conversation with natural ease and charisma. Everyone wants to see you, talk to you, be seen with you. It’s a move that will have lesser men folding their hands.

Coryo isn’t.

There’s no shortage of attention in his corner, the constant requests for a word from important political seats and fellow society greats, and invitations to dance which he only takes when you do. The undertow between you is palpable. He is an inevitability, you can feel it when you draw close during dances, gazes brushing past each other.

He is throwing you off, little by little, his smile blistering bright and dangerous across the room, and he catches you looking. Just once. And once is all he needs.

You swipe a glass of posca from a passing waiter, knocking it back in one go. This wasn’t part of your plan.

It definitely isn’t a part of the plan that Coriolanus appears in front of you, taking the empty glass away from you with a cool smile.

“May I have the next dance?” he asks, voice perfectly warm and polite. Every single eye watches the two of you with rapt attention as he offers his hand out to you.

He knows you can’t turn him down now, and he is relishing in it. His eyes are lit up, a fire in them you have not seen in months. You put your hand in his, beaming up at him.

“It would be my pleasure,” you say, dragging out the last word until it drips like daggers from your lips.

The two of you assume the starting position, you with one hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and you can’t help but notice that it is all too comfortable a role to slip back into: the perfect pair, polished and primed for the show. A lone pianist begins to play, and you recognize the tune as one of your very favorites… one you played for Coriolanus more than once on the grand piano in his penthouse.

Maintaining a polite expression, you shoot him a look. “Did you request this piece?”

“It’s your favorite, is it not?” He keeps it civil. More than civil, he keeps it warm, saccharine sweet even as he continues to lead you without a single misstep while giving the audience a perfect dance.

“I thought you’d forget about me,” you say, testing the waters. “Like you do to everyone who no longer interests you.”

“You think I’d be that cruel?”

“I know you would be.”

A hum rumbles in his chest and you feel it against your body, heating your cheeks. The dance goes on, gliding and spinning, the room growing dizzying either from the drinks or the way he won’t drop eye contact with you.

This much attention from him was not the plan, definitely not the goal, and as the tempo slows for the twinkling end of the piece, you think you might fall over if not for the sheer adrenaline coursing through you… and the firmness of his grip, fingers digging into the back of your corset.

As the music falls quiet, there’s a brief moment where you could hear a pin drop, the tension in the air releasing as the audience applauds. You blush, bowing to him, simmering with the dual-edged feeling of having been made a spectacle of — and a part of you enjoyed it because it was him doing it.

He offers his arm to you and you hesitate, wanting to search out Clemensia in the crowd, but with the expectant eyes still on you, it’s hardly the time to turn him down.

Shit.

You take his arm with trepidation, chewing the inside of your cheek as he leads you to the upper level of the conservatory. As you pass by Clemensia you shoot her a pleading glance, but she cannot save you, and you both know it.

He knows the place like the back of his hand and leads you to a tucked-away alcove crowned with rose arches. The plush settee is comfortable but small, and you wind up pressed against his side when you sit down. Worse still, it’s like he delights in tormenting you as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in.

“Did you enjoy doing that?” With a gentle huff, you finally speak your mind, voice hushed. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath, of his entire body, and yours never forgot how good he could make you feel, aching for him like a traitor. “Did you want to make a fool of me?”

He does nothing to assuage the pained curiosity of your words, tutting as he reaches up to finger one of your earrings. “No need. You and I can both agree you made plenty spectacle of yourself all on your own tonight, darling.”

You hold back from chewing him out, refusing to align his glance to his. It always frustrated him back then and it still does, as he moves his hand to your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Hard time letting go?”

He knows just how to stoke the fire in you. “Of you? Never.”

“As you say.” He rubs the fabric of your skirt between his fingers. “You seemed all too comfortable letting everyone reach out to pull you around tonight, truly playing the belle of the ball, hm?”

“That’s how the Capitol landscape is and you know it. I was not trying to upstage you.”

He tuts at that. “You think that is why I’m upset?”

You furrow your brow. “What else would it be?”

“Because for all your flitting about tonight…” He lowers his voice, and you lean in instinctively. “You wouldn’t have deigned to give me the time had I not put you on the spot.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your mental game board in disarray. “You’re jealous?”

You’ve learned to not cry over him anymore. Even when it hurts, when the three years down the drain remind themself like a splinter under your nail, you’ve learned better control than that. But this time, you feel the hot prick of tears in your eyes. When one slides down your cheek, he wipes it with his thumb.

Damn it, damn him, damn it all. You swallow.

“After everything, you are jealous? I didn’t even come here with someone else.”

“You came here with Clemensia.”

“Yes, a friend.”

“She was my friend first.”

“Oh, don’t be a child.”

You roll your eyes, slapping his chest. He holds your hand there, and when the first feeling that runs through your heart is a sliver of hope, you know you’re done for.

“I’ve missed you.”

Check mate.

He wins again.

You try to pull away, but he resists, pressing you closer into him. For all that hurt, all the frustration, when you look into his eyes, when your gaze flits down to his lips, you still want to crush his lips with yours, to slot right into his life like you never left, and that thought gnaws at you. You hate yourself for it. And your mask is not that strong…

“You really could have thought about that earlier, Coriolanus. You had every opportunity.”

He seems content with not elaborating on why he froze you out, left you in the dark, and it frustrates you. His only response, in fact, is to act on the heat of the moment, pulling you into a kiss.

It’s greedy and hungry and he bites at your lower lip, causing you to whine. His lips are soft and taste of sugary pastries and finely aged wines and oh, it would be so easy to fall head first into how good it feels, how much you missed this, to climb on his lap right here…

You lick into his mouth, wanting all you can take before you part from him, unable to forget where you are, that there is no privacy in this place, and that you can’t risk everything for him — however badly you want to. When you pull away, you see the mess you’ve made of him, lipstick on the corners of his mouth, and it thrills to know he’s made one of you too.

“Not here,” you say. But it isn’t a no. It’s hardly a stop. It’s a challenge and you desperately want him to rise to it.

He waves over one of his attendants to assist in making you both presentable, leaving you in the seat once he is taken care of. You hold back a protest, ready to settle back into the shadows of his ambition, but then overhear him whispering about “ready the car” and “make sure they have a good time” before he turns back to you. There’s the fire that could burn the whole of the Capitol down if he wanted it. There’s the hunger that could have you willing to offer him of yourself just to sate him. It leaves you speechless. It leaves you burning.

He whisks you away out the back entrance to the waiting car and once seated in the back, partitions pulled up, you spare no time climbing on top of him, arms wrapping around his neck.

He fingers your earrings again, hand trailing down to your necklace. “Our first anniversary, hmm? Do you remember why I had the rose engraved in the gold?”

You aren’t interested in reminiscing anymore, you want the present moment, you want to burn your mouth on his. You kiss him again, rocking against him as you do, relishing in the way he tightly grabs your hips, helps you keep grinding down as he lifts up the skirt higher, skimming the top of your thigh-high stockings.

“Missed you too.” Your breath is hot and ragged against his skin.

You look over his face, bodies still slowly rocking together, and when your semi-glazed eyes meet his, you see nothing but fire, dangerous and warming, everything you have ever wanted from him. In a craze, you find yourself begging.

“Please… make me yours again.” It’s a romantic notion, and it will haunt you come morning, but now you are nothing but a bundle of nerves and want, all ripe for his picking.

“Patience,” he breathes against your neck, his lips on the pearls. “We’re almost there.”

#coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #corionlanus snow x reader #coriolanus smut #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games

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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

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Yandere Baki Short Stories:

Take Responsibility

Yandere Katsumi Orochi x Secretary Afab Reader

Tw: Loss of virginity (mentioned), gaslighting, manipulation, and yandere behavior

“You need to take responsibility for taking my virginity.” You sighed when you were once again cornered by Katsumi Orochi. The karateka had his hands on either side of your body as he caged you against the wall. His heavy scent of oranges and clean linen gave you the slightest of headaches.

“Mister Orochi, we’ve already discussed this many times… it was a mistake-“ your hands were scooped up into his large, calloused ones. His chocolate eyes filled with sadness.

“Don’t say that… I gave you my everything that night.” Katsumi’s cheeks became rosy. Her brought your fingers up to his lips to press tender kisses to each digit. “We became one, don’t you think we should be together?”

You tried to pull your hands away but Katsumi firmly held you in place. God this man was delusional. You were drunk that night, for heavens sake. Drunk enough to have unprotected sex with your lovesick coworker after a social mixer. You were just lucky you weren’t on your ovulation cycle, otherwise the morning after pill wouldn’t have been affective.

“Mister Orochi, I really do not think this is professional-“

“I came inside of you…” Katsumi muttered under his breath, his eyes pleaded with you to love him back. “I gave you everything I have to offer physically. Do I really mean so little to you?”

“This is really not the place to discuss this-“

“Then where can we discuss us at? You won’t let me into your home and you won’t come to mine.” Katsumi sighed before he pulled you into a tight hug. “I want to be with you… I don’t want to be just a one night stand. You know I am in love with you so why did you take me?”

“I was intoxicated-“ Katsumi cut you off with a clumsy kiss. His lips nearly swallowed yours while his hands ardently grasped at your hips. You could feel how inexperienced yet eager he was to love you. It frustrated you to no end.

“They say drunk actions are sober thoughts so you must have an inkling of love to me…” Katsumi rambled against your lips, his eyes filled with so much pain it made you physically ill. He was so pitiful… and it was all your fault for going home with him. “Please just give me a chance. I’m begging you. I promise I’ll learn how to be an amazing lover! No! A husband. We could get married and then everything will work out!”

You sighed when Katsumi began to sloppy press kisses up and down your neck. Thank goodness the two of you were tucked into a small closet away from prying eyes in the dojo. Perhaps you should date Katsumi so he’d get off your case?

Sure, he was bad in bed but could he be trained how to please you? He was awfully eager to be with you from how he trembled like a scared puppy in your arms… you’d give it a try.

“Okay, I’ll date you.” You had to shove your hands up to prevent Katsumi from sloppily kissing you like a golden retriever again. “But you have to do what I say. I’m going to teach you how to love me properly-“

“Of course! I want to love you with everything I have.” The more time you spent in Katsumi’s arms, the more he became like a puppy in your eyes. He was so eager to please and filled with boundless enthusiasm to love. Katsumi was not your type at all but you knew you had to take responsibility for him… “I can take you out to eat after work. Then we could watch a move? Oh! But your shift ends before my last class… you could watch me train the kindergarteners! They’re a spunky little group.”

You sighed and placed your head on Katsumi’s shoulder which made the man turn a bright cherry red. His muscular arms snaked around you to pull you flush against him. This was your responsibility… to take care of Katsumi.

Katsumi smiled while you were lost in thought. His heart fluttered with joy. He finally had you in his arms again where you belonged… and this time, he wouldn’t ever let you go.

Because Katsumi Orochi belonged to you and only you.

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rayassecretlife · 1 year

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It was always you

Pairing: Aged up!19 year old Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omaticaya!Reader

PLEASE READ PART 1 AND PART 2 FIRST.

Summary: after the blow up at your party, you run away from the clan in thoughts nobody would know where you had gone—but of course, there was always him.

Warning(s): smuttt (MINORS DNI), slow burn kinda, Neteyam being a cry baby/manipulator, mentions of ab*se, death, self h*rm, slight breeding kink if you squint, praise kink

Not proof read!!!! Tumblr kept logging me out and I got mad so… but no word count, just know it’s long asf.

It was pathetic really. The crying mess you were in front of Eywa, you couldn’t believe this was how your birthday was going to end. That familiar urge to hurt yourself only burning your mind harder then ever.

“Oh Eywa, why have you turned your back on me? Take me, please just take me” Your knees buckle and you practically sink to the floor, head falling into your hands as your sobs began to break through your chest. You had so many emotions, so many regrets and wishes. You wanted it to stop, to be gone from the pain you felt.

“Y/N” The voice approached making you stand to your feet, pulling your knife to separate you and the boy before he could get any closer. “Y/N, what are you-“

“Go away, Neteyam. Please just…just go away!” You cry, moving closer to him with the blade towards his chest, but he wouldn’t move. He knew you wouldn’t hurt him, trying your hardest to yell at him without giving up. “I don’t want to hurt you”

“You won’t hurt me” He steps closer to you, his hand gently grabbing yours, removing the knife from your hand in fear you might hurt yourself. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay” You push him away from you with a sob, voice hitching in your throat as you tired to talk.

“D-Don’t touch me! You need to leave, Neteyam” He shakes his head and you whine, bottom lip stuck between your lip as fear began to fill your body. You couldn’t let him get any closer, his scent was worse now, calling to you desperately and your body wanted to give in so badly. “Please, I can’t do this”

Neteyam felt everything you did, he knew why you were pushing him away but he didn’t care, he was so tired of waiting. “Why are you running from this? Do you not…like me?” Your eyes soften at his worried tone, shaking your head as you wiped your cheeks.

“I’m leaving, Nete” Your words made him stop, forehead creasing at your words. “I’m leaving the forest” His eyes burned with confusion but his heart felt like it had been torn in two, struggling to find the right words.

“What… I—you said—“ The boy looks down, a million thoughts filling his head as he thought back to the party, feeling his eyes water but he couldn’t show you that. He couldn’t cry, so he did the next best thing. “So you were going to kiss me at the party and then just leave? Just like that?”

Your eyes shut with a sigh, hearing the peeking anger in his voice. His eyes were swelling with tears before you, imagining a world without you in it was not something he wanted, his heart breaking at the thought.

“I tried to hold myself back, I really tried, Teyam—but you… I can’t stay away from you, and I can’t ignore the feeling I get when I’m around you” You cry, realizing you were practically admitting to him, watching his angry expression shield his sadness. “You should go”

You turn to leave but he doesn’t let you, gripping your shoulder to turn you back around forcefully. “Why? To make it easy for you? So you can just leave and leave me by myself? How could you ask me to forget you? To forget everything we’ve been though!”

“You don’t think this hurts me, too?! Having to leave you? Having to leave the clan? There’s no place for me here, Neteyam. I go home and get beat every fucking day! I can’t escape him, I need to leave to be safe!”

“I’ve spent years protecting you, Y/N! Constantly trying to convince you to stay with me, following you through the woods to make sure you were okay, having guards go scouting with you if i couldn’t, I did it all! I did it all because I fucking love you!”

“Netey-“

“Making birthday dinners with my mother, picking fights with any guy who even got close to you, spending my nights holding you while you slept through your nightmares, it was me! It was all me!”

Tears stream down your face as you watch him fall apart before you, clearly holding back tears as he yelled at you, a tone you were so unfamiliar with.

“I can’t… I can’t do this without you” Your ears flatten at his cracking voice, letting a tear slip down his cheek and you wiped your own with your palm. “I can’t just forget you, Y/N” He was now looking at you with the most pleading look you’d ever seen, trying to keep his composure as he stared at your clearly broken state. It hurt him, he just wanted to take all your pain away, even if it meant giving it to him.

“Neteyam…” your voice shook as he pulled you into his arms, firmly wrapping around your body in a tight hug. He couldn’t let you go, not without him going with you. You hesitated, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, letting your tears fall against his shoulder. “I have to go, Nete”

“I’ll do anything, Y/N. Please, please don’t leave me” You cry at his voice, his fingertips digging into your skin, afraid you’d let him go. He was crying, still trying to pull you closer to him even though you’d been as close as you could possibly be. “Your what I look forward to when I wake up, what i yearn for at night, I… I need that, I need you”

You never saw him like this—this vulnerable to someone? He was always the great warrior, oldest son of Toruk Makto and one of the most respected men in the clan. Nobody saw him this way, not the way you did. He was falling apart in your arms, begging you over and over to stay in his arms.

“Kalwayaveng! Look at me! Don’t you see how badly I need you? How much i love you?” Those three words made you heart skip a beat, closing your eyes as you embraced the boy tighter, fingers running through his hair in attempt to sooth him.

“Y-your father is assigning you a mate” you remember the hurtful information, holding onto him only to be pulled away, his hands cupping your face as he stared down at you.

“I have promised myself to you many months ago, Syulang. My family, they want you to be with me. They want you to be Tsahìk” You shake your head at his words, trying to look away but he kept your head still.

“You think I can be Tsahìk? Someone as broken as me can’t be a leader, Neteyam. I can’t be Tsahìk, I can’t I-“

“I will step down from my position, I will leave with you-“

“No” you shake your head, mugging the boy above you, your hands cupping his face. “My sweet boy, You’ve worked too hard for this. I won’t ruin this for you” You wiped the tears that ran down his cheeks, smiling at him through your sobs. “Your going to be a great Ole’Eyktan”

“It means nothing without you” He didn’t know what to feel, he had been so angry and upset with you, praying to Eywa you’d just give into him, praying you loved him as much as he loved you. “I want to marry you. I want to travel the lands with you, I want you to carry my children, Y/N”

It hurt to hear because you wanted that too, wanting to spend the rest of your life with him, coming home to him every night. You loved him so much you felt nauseous, terrified of how empty you’d feel once you left.

Even without the bond, you two had the strongest force between you, like you couldn’t leave each other even if you tried. He needed you, he needed you to breath.

He leaned his forehead against yours, a shaky breath leaving his mouth, “I want it all with you, no one else” You felt more tears fall from your eyes as you closed them, one hand resting in his hair and the other on his chest, right above his heart. You felt it beat rapidly, his breathing only becoming less stable. “I’m nothing without you, Syulang. My Y/N, it was always you”

You cursed under your breath, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as his thumb brushed your lips, you needed to hold back, you needed to leave now.

But you couldn’t.

“Neteyam” He sighs, pulling his head off of yours to look into your eyes, his vibrant yellows practically glowing from the tree of voices beautiful light. “Kiss me” Your words slipped, watching his ears fall as his stomach dropped.

“If I kiss you, Promise me you won’t leave” He cups your face, tail wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. You were so scared, so terrified to put your love into him, your trust into him more then ever.

You’d never be able to stay away from Neteyam, not even worlds apart could keep you from him. “I promise” At your words, he hooked a finger under your chin and leaned down to your face, lips once again brushing against each other but not fully connecting.

You were the one to finish it, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned up, pulling his head down so his soft lips fully met your own. You could barely hold yourself up, the feeling overwhelming you so much you could cry. You had waited so long for this, so long to show him how much you truly loved him. It felt surreal.

The kiss was soft and delicate. Neteyam wanted to make it perfect, making sure not to force it onto you even though deep down he wanted to crash his lips against yours just to show you how much he loved you. It felt like sparks had fell between you two, tails wrapping around one another like dogs with your ears propped up.

He felt so alone when you pulled back, opening his starstruck eyes to look into yours. His heart was racing and you found it so cute, watching his lips threaten a smile.

“Did I do good?” You laugh at his question, nodding your head as you wiped your new tears, his ears instantly falling at you. “What’s wrong? Your still crying…” you shake your head at him, a closed mouth smile appearing across your face.

“I’m just… Oh Eywa” your heart beat out of your chest as you grabbed his hand in yours, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Your heart was so full. “Nga yawne lu oer, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan”

He could no longer hold back after you said those words, practically crashing his lips to yours as his hand held your head against his, slightly afraid he had hurt you, but he couldn’t control himself any longer.

A soft moan escapes your lips, breath tickling his and his ears perked at the sound, pulling you with him to sink to the grass under you. “Y/N” he tries to get your attention as you straddle his lap, hands laid dangerously low on his abdomen. “Y/N, I can’t-“

A whimper leaves his mouth as you move against him, the unfamiliar poke against your core making you gasp. He looks at you embarrassed, like you hadn’t been yearning for his touch, yourself.

“I’m sorry I-it just-“ you cut him off with your lips against his once again, his tail brushing against your leg. You didn’t know where it came from, but your body was suddenly begging for his touch, trying your hardest to find some sort of friction against the boy under you. “Calm down, Pretty girl. I’ve got you”

“Nete…” He can’t help but moan at the sound, his name leaving your mouth being one of the things he’d imagined so much over the past few years. He hummed in response, lips attaching to your neck. “tsaheylu. Please, tsaheylu” He pulls his head up to look at you, eyes searching yours with the big question.

“You know what this means, right?” You nod, reaching back to grab your queue from behind you. His eyes stare lovingly to your queue, bringing his own only a few inches from yours before looking back up at you, your eyes watching him closely. “You’ve been mine forever, you know that?”

“I’ve always known, Ma’Teyam. I’ve Always known” with one last look, you watched as your queues connected, head falling against his as you both let out a shaky breath. You smile at his whimpers, kissing his forehead. He was more vocal then you could’ve imagined but you loved it, praising him for it everytime he got embarrassed.

He lifts you closer to him and you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck. The love shared between you felt so unreal, all those years of hiding it were So, so worth it. “My mate, My fucking mate” He mumbled against you happily, almost fearing this had just been a dream.

His lips attach to your neck with ease, guiding you down to lay on your back against the grass. Your emotions filled his body so easily, your scent becoming ten times stronger then before. “Can i remove this, pretty girl?” He asks, fingers tugging at your new loincloth. “It’s pretty, but it’s blocking my view”

You nod your head with a soft moan, feeling his hand brush your aching clit. He removed your loincloth with care, eyes set on yours as he wasted no time in rubbing your clit, watching your head fall back.

The unexpected stimulation makes you recoil. He leaves a path of kisses from your jaw to your shoulder, you both knew you had been ready when your cunt was nearly dripping from his touch.

"Mhmm" you hummed as he hovered over you, pulling your right leg against his side as he kissed down your now exposed chest, whispering small things under his breath after each one.

"Tell me, baby. What did you plan to do once you left?" He whispered the dark words into your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. "were you gonna find someone better? Find someone who could fill my place?”

"Please, I can't— I need you, Teyam " you beg desperately with short breath, running your fingers through his long hair in attempt to get him away from the topic. You didn’t want to talk about that right now, just wanting to focus on him.

"You didn't answer my question" he reminds you, trailing his breath along your neck, driving you completely mad under his embrace. He smirks to himself, finger ghosting your core to catch your attention.

"Nobody could ever make me feel the way you do, god— please, Nete" your hand found its way back to the back of his neck, pulling him back into a deep kiss and lightly tugging on his hair, earning a small moan from his lips. “Like your hair pulled, huh?”

“Only if it’s you pulling it” You blush as he lays his forehead against yours. All you could hear was the sound of your breath between each other. He looked at you with pure desire, love radiating from the two of you without even saying a word. You could feel his heart, his emotions, his thoughts, but it was nothing compared to the look he gave you.

“May I?” You watch as he moves down, planting kisses along your bare body. You nod breathlessly, propping yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him move down to your core. “So wet, Baby. Fuck, need to taste you” you reach down, pushing his braids away from his face as he gave you one last look before leaning his head down.

Your head fell back against the grass, a soft moan leaving your mouth. Your eyes rolled back at the new stimulation, gasping as you sat up to look at what had been stretching you so far.

“Is this okay, my love?” He asks, continuing to slip his slender fingers into your dripping core. You nodded, moaning at how deep they had been. You could only imagine what was to come. “So pretty when you moan. The most beautiful girl in the world”

“Oh my god…” you sigh, laying back once his mouth was back on you, tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers dug deeper inside you. “Neteyam… baby”

“Taste so fucking good” He hums against your core, tongue running a line up your slit, cleaning the soaking mess you had made his hand. As if he wasn’t in love enough before, he definitely was now. “Need you to come, pretty girl. I need you, badly”

It only took you a small amount of time until you felt an unfamiliar knot tie in your stomach and you cried, pulling on his braids as he started to speed up his movements against your core, fingertips brushing your cervix like it was nothing and his tongue toying with your clit.

“Right there…mmph! Right there!” You cry for your mate, hand pulling at his freshly done braids as your hips rolled toward him, chasing after that feeling you so obviously needed. “Gonna come… god, already gonna come, Nete”

“Right there? Talk to me, Sweet girl” His words made you moan even more, the sound of his voice only making you more soaked then before. He pushed his fingers all the way into you, watching your face twist in pleasure. He was growing impatient, the tent in his loincloth only becoming bigger by the second.

“Nete…!” You warn but that doesn’t stop his movements, only making him go faster, eating you like you had been his last meal and like his life depended on it. Oh Eywa, he was so in love. “I’m…fuck!” You couldn’t hold your release any longer, practically pulling his hair as you let go, legs threatening to close against him and your back arched off the grass under you. His ears perked at your noises, praying to Eywa he’d make it far enough to finally sink into you.

But you couldn’t wait. You needed him and you needed him now before you went insane. You pushed him back from your body gently, straddling his lap once he sat back up. His eyes were wide but you didn’t care, working to remove his loincloth as fast as you could.

“Mawey, Sweet girl. We have all night” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your soft lips. “I want to take my time, need to feel every part of you” he pulls your closer to him, lips reattaching to your neck as you grind against his painfully hard cock, so sure you could come again just off of that.

"Take me, Nete " you begged him, hands running through his dark hair. Your slit is dripping, practically inviting him to use you but he refused, making sure to touch every part of you before he took you—before claiming you as his forever. “Your driving me insane” His breath catches inside his throat as you take his length in your small hand, thumb running over the tip that oozed of pre. He was so adorable under your touch, completely submitting to you everytime you touched him. “Poor baby, He’s begging you, Tey” You hum, placing a few kisses along his shoulder he he continued to curse under his breath, begging you to let up.

“Damnit, Y/N. You don’t know when to stop do you?” You smirk, bringing your thumb to your lips making sure he was watching as you took it into your mouth, swirling the pre around your tongue. “I can’t fucking do this anymore” he crashed your lips together in an instant, nails digging into your sides as he pulled you closer against him. He originally wanted this sweet and passionate, but he couldn’t hold back much longer, he needed you now.

“Your so beautiful, you know that?” He mumbles against your lips, lifting you up to hover above him, just inches away from his length threatening to enter you. He gives you one last look but you just crash your lips back into his, slowly sinking to your knees against his lap.

"Neteyam..." The sensation was overwhelming and your nails dug into the back of his neck, shaky breaths exchanging between the two of you as he filled you. It hurt but you could take it, the bond only making it so much harder for you to keep quiet. “S’big… so fucking big” You whine, stopping only when half of him was buried inside you, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he placed kissed on your shoulder.

"I know, Pretty girl" he mumbles against your neck, dragging his tongue along the sweet spot under your ear and pulling you closer against him. “You got it, Baby. Nice and slow” You moan at his coaching words, his hands holding you in place until you were ready for more, guiding you down onto him. “That’s it… Taking me so well”

“Too much, Teyam. Too much…” You cry and he shushes you, reaching between you to find your clit. He whispered some of the dirtiest things to you as he rubbed circles against your bud, slowly losing himself as he felt you take more of him. You felt so full, so loved—you couldn’t believe this was real.

“Shit” You both curse in unison as your skin collides, his cock buried deep inside you while your legs shook, leaning your forehead against his. “Am I hurting you?” His thumb rubs your thigh gently and you take a deep breath before shaking your head, closing your big eyes at the feeling. “It's hurting you. I can-"

"No!" You stopped the boy, cupping his face in your hands. "It just takes a second to get used to, I’m okay” you give him a nod and he sighs. “Your so fucking tight, Y/N. Feels so good and I haven’t even moved yet.

The boys patience is running out and he suddenly can’t hold on anymore, wrapping your legs around his waist before leaning you back against the grass so he could hover over you. The pressure was much less now. “It’ll feel so much better like this, My love. Just relax, let me take care of you”

Your eyes roll back as he begins to move at a slow pace, lips attached to your neck hungrily and you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his back, so rough you were sure you drew blood. Your mind was scattered. Trying your best to find the words, or even the look to give the man above you—but it was nearly impossible. His words, His feral rhythm, his gentle hands against your skin— all of it made your eyes flutter shut.

“Teyam, Ma’Teyam” you repeat against his ear and he grunts, pulling your leg against his side to allow himself more access. It felt good, maybe a little too good now. “Oh my god…” he pulled his face up to look at your twisted expression, met with your eyes squeezed shut under him in pure bliss.

"Look at me. I want you to look at me" His thumb brushed your bottom lip as you opened your eyes, trying your hardest not to lose yourself under his grasp. You finally looked back into his eyes, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as he found a pace. It was cloud nine to say the least—the lust, the passion, the need for each other. “Oel ngati kameie, Ma’Tìyawn” you whine at his words, pulling his face down to yours to press a passionate kiss against his lips. You saw him, you finally saw him.

It didn’t take much longer for you to get used to him and for his pace to increase, and you soon found yourself clinging to him for support—both of your moans filling the quiet forest around you. His tip kissed your cervix over and over, a mixture of moans, cries, and gasps leaving your lips as you took him, still begging him for more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this” He admits against your ear, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder. “Legs shaking and all, such a good girl for me” You moan loudly at his words, clenching around him as you pulled him closer to you. He knew what that nick name did to you, and he used it to his advantage. “So lucky we’re away from everyone because if they could hear you now” He laughs at his own words, completely rutting into you like an animal in heat.

“Gonna come, Nete… I can’t hold it” You whine as he continues to speak, only picking up his pace hitting your spot deeper and deeper by the second.

“Where do you need me, My love. Where do you want it?” You could tell by his sloppy strokes and breathless voice that he had been close, chasing after his high slowly but surely to give you time to react. “Wanna come inside. Paint your walls nice and pretty”

You hum at the idea, holding his face in your hands as he continued to stroke you. It was too much, you were going to release if he didn’t slow down. “Take what you want, Ma’Teyam. I’m yours, only yours!”

He pulled you back up into his lap to straddle him once again, except this time he had been doing most of the work, guiding your hips up and down. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you couldn’t help but clench around him, his breathing growing severely heavy at the feeling.

“Feels so good. You need it, don’t you? Need me to come inside you, Sweet girl?” You cry and nod your head, hands getting lost in his braids as you felt your orgasm approaching fast, bouncing on his lap harder then before. “S-shit!”

“Want it so bad, baby. Give it to me! Right behind you, my love. Give me everything, all of it!” With one last stroke, he pushed you down harshly onto his lap, the tip of his cock pressing your cervix before he released his thick white seed against your gummy walls, painting them nice and pretty just like he promised. The two of you let out a long lasting, tattooing moan as you fell into each other, chests heaving harshly against one another.

“Holy shit” Neteyam sat dumbfounded, still trying to convince himself this was real. But it was, you were you and he was him, laying against each other with your queues still attached. All those years of waiting, all those arguments with himself over you, it had all been worth it. “You okay, Pretty girl?” You nod against his chest, exhausted to say the very least.

“Carry me home, Nete” He chuckles, chest vibrating against your body as he stroked a hand through your hair.

“Can’t go home like this, My love” He pulls out of you, watching the mess he created slowly expose itself. You whine but he shushes you, gently laying you back onto the grass, pulling you against his chest so you could get warmer. The two of you stare at the tree above you, a smile almost instantly spreading across your face. “Eywa has heard us, huh?”

You move your head against his chest, looking up into his big yellow eyes full of love. “Ma’Teyam” your finger traces his jawline, watching his face soften at the sight of you. His beautiful mate—his everything. “Eywa has always heard us”

You spent the rest of the night sleeping in each others arms, not a care in the world of what happened at that party, because you had him. You had your Neteyam, and you couldn’t thank him enough for following you into the forest that night.

I feel like this is super bad because I kept rushing some parts due to tumblr’s TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES LOGGING ME OUT 💔 sooooo I kind of gave up toward the end…. But if this isn’t good I’ll probably rewrite it. Here’s this for now though 🫶🏼

Taglist: @n3t3y4msm4t3 @abbersreads @neteyamoa @zatarias-pandora @dead-28

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yanderes-galore · 2 months

Note

Hello, Panther!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I can’t stop fangirling at your work so naturally I have to send a lil request. May I request a scenario with Levi (f&h)? Darling complains about the voices, Rher's influence and they are afraid they might hurt Levi, so for the protection of both of them darling asks Levi to leave the party. Ofc I imagine Levi doesn’t take that well ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ Maybe in an attempt to convince them to stay, Levi tells darling about his own dark urges? What if darling doesn’t take it well and it only dissuades them more 🤔

so yeah, that’s my request. An attempt to comfort goes wrong lol

I love writing Levi... here you go! Not fully proofread, may have mistakes!

Betrayal

Yandere! Levi Story

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Violence/Violent thoughts, Clingy behavior, Paranoia, Overprotective behavior, Implied murder, Guns/Gun injury, Blood, Dubious companionship.

"I think it's... best you go, Levi." You hesitate to bring up the topic. After all, with everything going on in this town you don't want to be alone. Based on the look in Levi's eyes... he doesn't want to leave you either.

"W-Why?" Levi asks, worry coating his voice as he steps closer to you. In response you step back, your head throbs in pain. Levi can see the hurt on your face... he cares so much about you.

"Rher's influence is getting stronger..." You admit softly, not looking the young man in the eyes. "I don't want to participate in the festival... I don't want to hurt you...."

"So?" Levi asks coldly, stepping close again. "There's no need to split up... if we do, we'll be dead."

"Levi, please... I just can't bear to hurt you-" You try to reason but Levi pulls you closer, an iron grip on your arm as he glares at you.

"I can't bear to lose you!" Levi retorts, his grip loosening slightly. "I understand your fears... but don't we all feel such an urge?"

"... what do you mean?" You ask Levi, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Since teaming with you... I've wanted to hurt the other contestants like the festival wishes. But I've never wanted to hurt you! I want to protect you..." Levi notices you pull away and he tightens his grip. "I can't just let you leave me...!"

"Levi-" You shake, pulling away from him more. "Levi... let go!"

"I know you won't hurt me... the voices may tell you to... but I think you can overcome it. Just let me help you!" Levi encourages, his hold on you unrelenting.

You feel fear fester within you as you see the look in Levi's eyes. It's possessive... but you can tell he is definitely hiding something. You flinch when he tightens his grip more, his nails digging into your skin.

No wonder Levi never liked you having other party members...

You fear what could have happened to your older party members before you found Levi....

"We're both just... scared." Levi whispers, his grip transitioning into a hug. "If you really want to be honest... we'll both probably be unable to leave here..."

He goes silent for a moment, hug tightening.

"So why don't we just spend as many moments together as we can?" Levi whispers, laying his head on your shoulder. You nearly fall for his comfort... but you flinch again at the voices clawing in your mind.

"Levi...." You whisper back before pulling away. "I can't... maybe we'll find a way to meet again? Away from this place?"

Levi allows you to pull away, his hand shifting to the gun belt around his waist. You think he's going to let you go. However... you can't help but stare at the sad look on his face.

"You really think you'll hurt me?" Levi asks, watching at you meekly nod. Levi goes silent before sighing deeply. He then shakes his head and waves his hand. "Then go..."

You thank him with a sad frown before turning around and heading through the ruined town...

Then there's two loud bangs and a searing pain in your legs.

You collapse to the ground, freezing at the sight of your own blood. You hear someone run up to you before leaning in front of you. As you hiss in pain... you see Levi in front of you.

"Guess I should give in and hurt you first..." Levi whispers, holding your chin up. "This way you can't leave me... not with two bullets in your legs, at least."

"You betrayed me..." You whisper, tears spilling down your face from all sorts of pain. Levi clicks his tongue, looking disappointed... both in you and himself.

"You did it first..." Levi sighs heavily, pulling you in for another hug.

"I'd do anything to keep you with me... even stab you in the back."

#yandere fear and hunger #yandere fear and hunger 2 #yandere funger 2 #yandere f&h termina #yandere fear and hunger termina #yandere fear and hunger levi

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daeguzen · 10 months

Text

Lee Haechan Keeps Breaking Up With Me

PAIRING | l.dh x f. reader, ft. n.jm

GENRE | angst, slight fluff

WORD COUNT | 7.6k

NOTE | i just wrote all of this, it's not proofread lol. this is the start of the started with a book series. first book is called laura dean keeps breaking up with me. it's an lgbtq+ comic styled book. the art style is very pretty and the story itself, i find, is good. a coming to age story about friends, neglect, and toxic relationships. i followed the basic plot for the most part but all scenes, characters, and personal story lines are not 100% true to the original book. credits to the author of course for what i did relate to.

WARNING | reader has negative views of themselves, mentions of infidelity, manipulative characteristics, toxic relationships

SONG | i don't know you - the marias

SUMMARY | becoming lee haechan's girlfriend was the best day of your life. he was everything you dreamed of. the most breathtaking, and beautiful lee haechan was someone you were lucky enough to call yours. it goes unnoticed how he easily manipulated you into doing all he wanted, believing the pretty lies that left his lips. the love you had for him was enough to blind you to how mean he could be and how often he broke up with you just to get back together again. no one understood why you kept running back into the embrace of the boy who paid no mind to your pain. when you seek advice from the don't need that love online forum, your forced to face the truth. your heart is breaking slowly, your friendship is falling apart, and you can't seem to do anything right. and what would it take for him to stop breaking up with you?

Wiping down the cafe table, you find yourself lost in the repetitive motions of your work. You move your arm around, rag in hand, watching as the little crumbs fall on the floor. Placing the napkin dispenser and other items neatly in their respective places. Backing away from the now clean area, you take the used dishes to the kitchen. You hear the faint chimes that sound every time people walk in and out. It’s not as busy, that being the situation every Wednesday afternoon. When you come out back to the front you’re greeted with a small cappuccino made by your co-worker Na Jaemin.

“You look like you need an energizer. Don’t worry, the boss won’t mind.” Glancing at him and back at the drink in his hand you break out in a small but grateful smile.

“Thank you Jaem, what would I do without your kind gestures?”

“Crash and burn.” At that you let out a laugh that makes Jaemin’s eyes sparkle. Something you never noticed, eyes always wondering elsewhere.

“Honestly, I can say you read me better than my own boyfriend.” You also miss the twitch in Jaemin’s smile, lips almost frowning. But he reverts back to his friendly self knowing that the place next to yours wasn’t for him.

“Well I believe that your boyfriend is a little bitch.” You almost choke on your coffee at the sudden selection of words.

“Jaemin!”

“Just saying what I believe. An opinion tis all. Now finish up young lady, back to work before manager Suh comes in and sees you downing his precious coffee.”

“I thought you said he wouldn’t mind.”

“Hmm did I?” You stifle a giggle as you finish up your tasty cappuccino. Although he had been partially messing with you when he called your boyfriend a little bitch, you couldn’t help but wonder if Haechan wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world. You could’ve gone without the name calling. Visibly, you sigh as you throw your coffee cup away, thoughts of Haechan lingering in your mind. Most of the time, the emotions you felt when remembering him were sad and lonely ones. You oftenly had to wonder where he was or if he’d call you. Maybe he’d forgotten about you completely at times. You weren’t sure but you hoped it wasn’t so.

When the chimes ring again, you look up ready to greet the incoming customer when you realize it’s your bestfriend Mark. Your smile diminishes as you watch the evident frown and glaring eyes. When he stops at the counter you don’t even get one word out before he speaks up.

“What happened to showing up to my show at 4 pm sharp?” Your eyes widen. Shit.

“M-Mark, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to miss it, Johnny called me in to work yesterday and I forgot to follow up with you. Please I’m sorry, I-I can make it up to you.”

“You can’t because you always do this.”

“What do you mean?” You feel yourself try to hide, curl into yourself as Mark’s words leave painful imprints on your chest. You couldn’t blame him though, it was your fault. Only you were to blame for being a fuck up of a girlfriend and best friend.

“You always come to me when you need something or when you’re down. Mostly when your jerk of a boyfriend doesn’t give you any attention. But when I want to go to you you’re never there. When I tell you I have a show that I really care about that I would love for my best friend to show up to, you forget. It’s not fair.” Mark looks near tears as he speaks to you in a tone that always felt alien to you. He starts to turn away, opting to just leave at that point.

“Markie, wait, don’t go I really am sorry!”

“Fuck off Y/N.” There’s the sound of a choked off sob, tears tricking with a heavy heart in hand. You jump slightly when Jaemin’s hand comes to soothingly rub your back, arms bringing you into a hug.

“It’s okay Y/N, it’ll be okay. If you want, go home and rest up a bit, it’s not a busy day and I can talk to manager Suh.”

You want to shake your head and say no, that you’re fine and that you can do your job but Jaemin doesn’t let you. And even if his intentions were good, it only made you feel worse. Not only were you a careless best friend and boring girlfriend, but now you were a useless co-worker. Walking out of the cafe, your eyes were trained on the sidewalk, the tears still streaming down your face. They didn’t stop even when you reached your house. Not until you fell asleep with only a pillow to hold.

You spent the entirety of the following week trying to make up for your mistake. You kept apologizing, telling him that you appreciated him a lot and supporting him during his recordings. He accepted it, also apologizing for telling you to fuck off but you told him there was no need. He was right to be upset with you and you promised that this time, you’d work on being a better and attentive friend. Knowing that the only thing Mark was forgetful about was eating properly, you oftenly brought him lunch boxes and coffee from your workplace.

You were aware that Mark wasn’t a big fan of your boyfriend. And it frustrated him to see the frequency of your visits with lunch boxes in hand not because he wasn’t grateful but because he knew Haechan never saw any of this. Your boyfriend was as good as a ghost, even dead. He hoped that one day, you’d have the courage to leave him and be happy. You were his childhood friend and seeing how those eyes of yours morphed into something sad and empty would always be a sadness of his own.

It was Tuesday morning when you walked out of the recording studio, bidding farewell to Mark. You made your way towards the Art Building, where your Intro to Art and Visual Culture class was scheduled in about thirty minutes. You sat on one of the seats in the hallway to wait for your class to begin. Scrolling through your phone, you couldn’t help but see what Haechan had been posting. He told you he was busy, it was why you hadn’t seen him in over three weeks. If hanging out with friends at a bar could be considered busy. You never complained or called him out for anything. You weren’t that type of girlfriend and Haechan would probably be annoyed if you were.

Still, you couldn’t help but wish that those pretty eyes would look at you. You could almost imagine him walking up to you, wearing nothing but jeans and an oversized hoodie. You’d look to your left, seeing him sit down next to you, getting lost in those sparkling and mischievous eyes. The pretty marks that dotted his face, creating the Ursa Minor constellation. You would adoringly call him your little bear because of it. His hair had always looked soft, grown out and messy but it was your favorite out of all the ones he’d worn before. You liked how it almost came around his eyes and down to the back of his neck. When you blink again, his image is gone and you’re left with an empty seat, just a picture of him on your phone case.

Your head falls back gently onto the wall behind you, eyes closing. What would it take for Haechan to just see you? To love you like you did him? He had to at least somewhat love you. He wouldn’t keep coming back if he didn’t, right? It felt more like something you tried to tell yourself to believe instead of what could be the actual truth. Maybe Haechan didn’t love you. Or maybe you were asking for too much when you were not enough. Still, Haechan was yours. At least a piece of him had to be yours, even if your entirety belonged only to him. When your eyes open, moving to the side, you see his smiling face.

“I wish you were real.”

“If I weren’t then what would I be? A ghost?” You blink once and then again. By the third time, he’s still sitting there. That dazzling smirk spreads across his face as it always did. Suddenly, he brings himself closer, head tilting and lips aiming straight for yours. You felt that emptiness fill again, forgetting all the bad thoughts that clouded your mind. Before he could pull away, you surprisingly let your fingers slip into his hair and hold him there for a bit. He lets a muffled sound of what seems surprise as he lets you get lost within him.

For you it was everything but for Haechan, he just relished in the way he held your delicate heart in his hands. Always at his beckoning call even when he discarded you. He could always present himself in front of you and you’d be like a puppy waiting for their master.

He pulls away from you, eyes hooded when he sees you chase a bit after him. You miss the bad glimmer in his eyes, when he takes a good look at your closed eyes, lips colored red and swollen. You feel his hand come up to caress at your cheek softly, a great contrast from the manipulative feelings burning within him.

“Darling, you look so cute like this. Maybe I should keep you waiting for my kisses more frequently.” He clearly knows what he’s doing and saying when he watches the sad frown grace your lips.

“I missed you so much. I haven’t seen you in three weeks now. Where have you been?”

“I told you I was busy doing stuff. My friends needed me. But I remembered about your class today and since I didn’t have anything to do I thought maybe we could go somewhere.” Another frown, another internal flare of manipulative words. A never ending dance doomed for tragedy.

“Hyuckie, I have class in twenty minutes.”

“The same class you attend every Tuesday for five months. Missing one class isn’t going to affect you. Besides, don’t you want to spend time with me? You said you missed me.” Haechan’s hand retracts, his thumb lightly grazing now at your neck.

“But I like this class a lot.” This time it’s Haechan who frowns, observing how you’ve become a little resistant to him.

“What, so you like your class more than me? I thought I meant more, that I was important to you above all else.” When you see him pout he knows he’s roped you in. He likes the desperate look to please him and wonders what he did in life to find such a willing girl that wants to see him happy and sets her heart right out in front of him. He could almost laugh.

“Fine, fine. But only this one time. I can’t keep skipping classes.”

“Don’t worry love, no one will notice you’re missing and we can have fun.” No one would ever notice you the way I do. See you the way I do. Your heart, it’s all for me to play with and do as I please. And you could never dream of saying no to me my love.

Haechan grasps at your hand now, excitedly dragging you away. To you, not much else mattered more than keeping him happy. Even if it was at the expense of your responsibilities and well being. As long as he could smile with those dazzling eyes into yours, you thought that was enough.

“Where are we going Haechannie?”

“Anywhere we want.” Anywhere I want.

“Can we get coffee together?”

“Should we?” No.

“Unless you don’t want to, we could go get ice cream if you’d like, I know you like that one place by the bookstore.”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll get ice cream then!” Of course we are.

“Haechannie?”

“Yes?” What?

“I love you.”

“Me too.” Of course you do, who wouldn’t?

And eventually when you do get your ice cream and he pays for you, you get a piece of him. You enjoy it to the fullest. But as you're finishing your treat, he does what he always does. When his eyes find his friends he lets those words roll smoothly out of his mouth. I’ll be back so wait for me here.

You tell yourself he’ll come back. But you always knew what those eight words meant. Even if you denied it as hard as you could, the rising moon could not deny it for you.

Haechan left you in the dark again.

Dear DNYL,

My name is Y/N and I’m a third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. I’m currently in a relationship with my sweet boyfriend Hyuck. I love him dearly. He’s a great guy deep down. When he first asked me to be his girlfriend, I was sitting on a singswet and he was kneeling in front of me. He looked at me, I know he took a really good look at me. He was so sweet, his hand held mine, and he told me that he had never met another girl like me. He said he wanted to keep me all for himself.

But I think that things aren’t going very well. I just can’t figure out why. I love him and he loves me. I know he does. He buys me ice cream. Even pretty flowers because he knows I like them. He lets me join in on his streams. He’s a gamer. He’s pretty good at it too. I’m not as good so he doesn’t let me embarrass myself in front of his friends. I know he’s taking care of me by doing this.

I just can't seem to understand something. Even with all this love, Hyuck sometimes feels upset. And I don’t know how to fix it. I know it’s my fault, I should pay more attention to him because I’m his girlfriend. I care for him a lot. But I don’t know how to fix it because truthfully, my boyfriend Hyuck keeps breaking up with me and I don’t know what to do. Please reply soon.

Lots of love,

Y/N

It was a mistake. Your balance had failed and the other boy had been too close. You were slightly tipsy, waiting on the couch for your boyfriend. He invited you to the bar he frequented with his friends. You were okay enough to know that you were going to have to apologize again. Not only to Haechan but to Jaemin too. Your boyfriend was so caught up in talking to some other person that he forgot about his promise to take you home half an hour ago. You decided to take matters into your own hands, not being able to take the sight in front of you.

Jaemin hadn’t taken very long to find you. He came over to you asking if you were okay, you only replied with a small yes as you took his hand into yours. But the world was spinning so when you fell back, Jaemin tripped over you, lips brushing against yours. It was straight out of a dramatic story. But he didn’t stay more than a second like that when he was getting up, ears red, and stuttering apologies. You laughed, waving it off, and telling him that you’d really like to go home.

Jaemin held you close to his side, when his eyes came up, he noticed the silhouette of the person he could honestly say he hated. He watched as Haechan’s arm retracted from the girl next to him, eyes engaging him in a furious glare. Before anything else could happen, Jaemin pulls away first, his top priority being you.

“Let’s take you home okay?” You nod, letting him guide you to his car. You don’t notice the familiar steps that hurriedly hit the payment. It’s only when he’s blocking you from Jaemin’s car that you realize Haechan followed you out. He looks towards you, extending his hand out for you to take.

“Y/N, I’ll take you home.”

“If you haven’t noticed I’m taking her home.”

“I wasn’t talking to you. Y/N, let’s go now.” He moves forward to take almost by force but stops when he watches with shock at how you sink deeper into Jaemin’s arms. You most certainly did not just reject Haechan in preference of Jaemin. You couldn’t have done that.

“Y/N?” He tries to soften his voice, masking the edge and frustration he’s feeling. To him, there was definitely something wrong with you. You’ve been resisting him recently and he wasn’t a fan of it.

“You didn’t take me home. Jaemin…will do it. He listens.” Jaemin moves around Haechan, still holding onto you as he places you in the passenger's seat. He was sure to properly accommodate you. And when you saw that, your hands came up to try and wipe away your tears. Your sobs may have been hushed but Haechan heard them loud and clear. He turned to watch as you completely fell apart, telling Jaemin so openly that your chest was hurting. That you wanted it to stop. And then before Jaemin closed the door, you uttered words neither boys would’ve ever thought you’d say.

“I wish you were my boyfriend instead. You’re not reckless. You make me feel safe Nana.” It was funny, how they both stilled, eyes wide with shock but for completely different reasons. Haechan felt humiliated. He was hurt but his brain processed all the wrong reasons. Thinking that he was losing his control over you was what he thought bothered him. Jealousy? Of course it was, you were after all his. Jaemin on the other hand, felt sad that he wished it would be the same. But he knew that the moment you’d sober up, you’d forget all of this. And you’d go back to the very arms you were running from tonight.

When you arrived at your house, Jaemin had to carry you. You were at the same low you found yourself in whenever Haechan was around. Jaemin was seeing it all and you couldn’t help the embarrassment in you. But Jaemin didn’t care about any of that. What he cared about was your wellbeing. He loved you more than his words could convey. It ripped him apart to watch Haechan bring you down and toy with you as if you were nothing. But he could never force something that was not meant to be. All he could was be a good friend, it was all he could be even if he craved for more.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Making you…drive me home. Bothering…”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. I’m here when you need me.”

“Sorry about the kiss. Lost my balance.” For all the self control Jaemin had, he didn’t want to stop his next words. He wouldn’t regret them, he’d just regret the feeling of your inevitable rejection.

“I kinda liked it.”

“Hmm.” Jaemin sighs at your response.

“Of all times you decide to fall asleep on me, it’s the moment I bare a piece of my soul. Sleep well Y/N.” He leaves the door to your room ajar and walks towards the sofa bed in your living room. He doesn’t want to leave you alone in this state, well aware you’d need someone to take care of you in the morning. If only he could hold you, brush his fingers through your hair, and kiss you again. Even if it was selfish, he wanted to be in his place. He’d always want it to be him instead.

Dear Y/N,

Thank you for reaching out to us! I’m Renjun, one of the consultants from Don’t Need That Love. I just want you to know that I’m proud of you for sending us your letter. I want you to take a moment. Just take a moment to breathe. Focus on yourself as you read this and put away all other thoughts. I want you to know that as a consultant here, I am very honest with my words from what I collect from these letters. Although, it may not be what you wish to here, we do this to give perspective on what may be happening in your love life. At the end of the day, I am here to help.

The relationship you are in is not very healthy. Significant others are meant to be there for you, cherish you, and make you happy. But I think you’ve convinced yourself that your boyfriend doing all these things for you is his way of showing his love. I think he tries to manipulate you with his words, to make himself seem like he’s upset and guilt you into giving in. You don’t need someone else to validate you as a good person. You work on accepting yourself as you are. And if there’s someone in your life who truly cares about you, they will be the ones to talk about healthy changes you need to consider.

Not allowing you to play games and to just watch his streams because his friends are there, is not an excuse. If anything he’s supposed to stick up for you. He has probably tried to mold you into someone who is dependent on him. To have you any time he calls out.

Let me ask you sincerely, do you think Hyuck truly sees you for the person you are? Does he know all the things you enjoy? Does he respect you and your friends? Does he agree and accept your words even if it’s a simple opinion or request? Ask yourself, how do his actions reflect the love he says he has for you. Write it out if you’d like, think upon it and then if you want you can write to me again. I hope to hear from you soon.

Lovingly,

Renjun

“We need to talk.” It was the first time Haechan wasn’t so kind to you. Before, it was an exchange of a few words and then him abruptly walking away. But now, he dragged you by your arm, fingers painfully digging into your skin. He led you into the alleyway next to the cafe you worked at. Letting you go, he let his arms fall at his sides. He ignored the way you rubbed your arm to soothe the pain.

“Were you trying to hurt me last night?” You winced.

“N-no, I didn’t mean to-”

“So what, you were just caught up in the moment. For fucksake he was on top of you and you let him!”

“I didn’t mean to do it! It was an accident!”

“So if I were to just kiss any other girl I’d be able to call it an accident? Is that how much my love means to you?” It hurt that he’d accuse you but it didn’t outweigh the guilt you felt for hurting him too.

“No, of course not. Your love means so much to me I-”

“Do you remember what you said to Jaemin?” For some reason, Haechan looked more hurt than you’ve ever seen. His eyes were slightly red as if he had cried.

“W-what are you talking about?”

“You called him to pick you up. Because I didn’t do it as soon as you wanted to. You told him he listens to you. Do you think that I don’t? You think I’m an inadequate boyfriend.”

“Hyuckie no-”

“You told him you wished he were your boyfriend instead!” His statement shuts you up immediately. Hands shaking nervously from the onslaught of accusations. You were drunk but you knew what you had said. And although you avoided that conversation with Jaemin, you knew it was inevitable with Haechan.

“Should we just break up?” At this you panic and Haechan laughs, relishing in how immediately you reached out to him. You’re still mine. You belong to me and no one else.

“Darling, every time we break up we always find our way back. You understand me and I’m the only one who understands you. What we have is more important than a meaningless kiss you shared with that bastard,” he watches your lips slightly frown, “unless you think he’s more important to you than I am.” You shake your head, giving the answer he wanted.

“I want to hear you say it, love. Say I’m more important to you than him.”

“You’re more important to me than him.”

“So we’re good now. Okay lovely?”

“Yes Haechan.”

“Good,” Haechan moves in to kiss you and you know he never does little pecks. He brings you closer, kissing you in a way you don’t recognize. Because this time, it’s you who tries to pull away gently and he who lets out a sound of disapproval, reaching to kiss you again.

“I know you have to get back to work but after you get off let's go on a date. We’ll do anything you want.” You blink up at him, eyes almost innocent and he feels something strange spread in his chest.

“Anything?” He nods.

“Can we go to the music shop? I want us to listen to music together.” Haechan, who is usually so composed, feels a haze in his mind as he gives in to you. He tells you that he would love to. And he tries to understand why he’s feeling this way but as it always happened, he recognized all the wrong reasons. This time, he thought it was simply because he almost lost his little toy. But you came back into his arms, you always would.

“Mark, I’m sorry. Please believe me I-”

“You know every fucking time I see you, your always apologizing. And it’s getting very tiring Y/N. I thought we were fine, thought you were doing better.”

“I don’t mean to-”

“What? You don’t mean to be a shitty friend? Goddammit, I feel like we’re going in circles. Why can’t you see your boyfriend is a complete asshole? He doesn’t love you!” Mark’s words were meant to hurt you. You knew that much. But hearing him openly express them made you want to cry. And it seemed that it was all you ever did. You were happy one moment crying the next. And it never seemed to stop.

Currently, you stood in Mark’s room, it changed a lot from how he had it as a kid. Now, you could say it was a perfect depiction of who he was. He loved music, he would say he wouldn’t know what to do with his life if it wasn’t for his passion. It looked lively with all the album covers on his walls, music sheets thrown about and instruments on one side.

But looking at him now, he didn’t have the brightness about him. He looked drained and it scared you of how much he seemed to resemble you.

“H-he does love me.”

“Of course he does. Little Mr. Perfect with the dazzling eyes could never hurt you. Oh no, he loves you so dearly that’s why he goes around fucking other girls behind your back.”

“What?” Mark looks to you clearly now, the color draining from both your faces.

“Mark, what are you talking about?”

“You can’t tell me you didn’t know? How could you not know?” An unfortunate turn of events but maybe this was what served as the eye opener you needed.

“Mark?” He looks towards you, frustration in his shoulders but tears rolling down nonetheless.

“I guess that makes two of us. How pathetic. Not only are we best friends who share birthdays but now we can both say we got cheated on.”

You took a moment to process what he was saying. You knew you were a lot of things. Stupid. Ignorant. Foolish. But you weren’t entirely heartless. And only others knew that you were more selfless than selfish. You walked towards Mark, without saying a word you pulled him into an embrace. That was all it took for him to break down.

Mark was a good kid. He did his work diligently and he was one of the most talented musicians at the university. He had a growing following on his platforms. He was always a good son and tried to be a good friend. He thought he had to meet everyone’s expectations and beyond. You often had to bring him down from that cloud and back to earth. Mark didn’t have to try and be perfect because he already was. He just had to be the best he could be. Your hands came to touch his face, knuckles brushing away gently at his tears. You should have been there for him. You should have been a better friend. But you failed him and this was something you’d never forgive yourself for.

“I think there’s a lot we have to discuss about Markie. I’m sorry for not being there. But I’m here now. And I won’t go away anymore.”

And so with that, Mark explained to you that his girlfriend of three years had cheated on him with one of the boys in his piano class. He told you about how he found them, how upset he was, and how badly she tried apologizing for her mistakes. But he realized that he couldn’t take it. That the only person who he couldn’t push away no matter how many times she apologized was you. He could learn to live without her but he couldn’t do that with you. And after talking for hours about him, the topic you dreaded finally came up. And after everything you heard, you realized a lot of things about yourself. Things you finally had the courage to change.

Haechan came around to your coffee shop, smirking at the obvious glare Jaemin sent his way.

“Y/N, you’re gonna go to my birthday party tomorrow right?” Looking up from behind the cash register, you watch Haechan leaning on the counter.

“I thought your birthday was next week?”

“It is but I’m celebrating it tomorrow. I’m inviting all of my friends too. Don’t worry I can pick you up.”

“Haechan, I appreciate it but I have something really important to do.” Haechan frowns. Did you…just say no without apologizing? He straightens up to look at you more clearly.

“What’s so important that you have to miss my birthday party?”

“It’s personal.”

“So now we’re keeping secrets?”

“You’d know a lot about keeping secrets.” Haechan has the audacity to scoff. The shock he felt wasn’t enough to even begin describing the list of emotions he was going through.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Now leave, there's a customer behind you.” He looks at you, mouth gaping open. When he looks back to where your coworker stands with amusement written on his face, he turns angrily.

“No way did you just reject your boyfriend's invitation.”

“I did,” you let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s just…I’m not used to you denying him anything. Not to sound nosy or whatever but your man is-” before he could say more you add, “a little bitch.” If Jaemin had taken a sip of coffee he would’ve spit it out. But he settled with his jaw dropping to the floor.

“Who are you?” You turn to look at him and for the first time in years, he watches a genuine smile grace your face all the way to your eyes.

“Y/N L/N, third year college student at Dream University of the Arts. The best friend to none other than Mark Lee and Na Jaemin. The soon to be ex-girlfriend of one Lee Haechan."

Dear Renjun,

Thank you for writing back. It means a lot to me. It did hurt a lot, the words you wrote. I’m embarrassed to say that I spent a few weeks agonizing over it but I’ve finally gathered my courage. One that I think took too long to find. I guess I’ll just start with everything that’s been on my mind.

I hate going to the ice cream place all the time. I only did it because Hyuck doesn’t like coffee too much. I would always offer coffee, he’d say should we, and I knew it was his way of saying no. He never gets me the flowers I like. Blue and white hydrangeas are my favorite. But he gets me roses because he says they are the most romantic. I’ve always found them to be basic. He’s never told me loved me directly. I would always say it first. He also always leaves me alone. Whether in the rain, sun, dark clouds, or on a park bench. He made me skip classes because he made me feel as though I wasn’t loving him enough. He never talks kindly about my friends. He doesn’t listen to me when I’m agonizing. He forgets me.

You’re right, he doesn’t see me. I called it love because I wanted to believe it. But it wasn’t. It never was to begin with. I was a toy to him, a puppet. One that he could pull the strings back towards him. But these past few weeks have made me realize and see things for what they truly were. My friend confessed something to me. He went through something sad in his relationship just like I did with mine. I see now how badly I’ve neglected him. Just like Hyuck does to me.

I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to be with him. I want him to let me go. I know it’ll hurt but I know I’ll be happy when we set each other free. My boyfriend Huck keeps breaking up with me because he doesn’t need my love. He doesn’t fear losing it. And even if I do want to cry and scream…I can’t. Why do I feel so free?

Thank you Renjun. For listening to me and for providing me with your words of encouragement. It’s one of the many things that I needed to grow out of this. I hope wherever you are that you’re doing well. And that you have people who cherish you deeply.

Lots of love,

Y/N

Taking a deep breath as you bring your hand up to ring the doorbell, you hear the faint sound of it ringing in Haechan’s apartment. When the door opens you’re met with the smiling face of a boy you’ve never met. He looks like he’s gone through hell and back. Wincing at the sudden daylight he gives you another small and quirky smile.

“Hello! You here for the after party?”

“After party?”

“Yeah, Haechan is having a weekend birthday party so we’re on dia numero dos. Come in!” You walk in a little weary at all the excitement that exudes from the boy. When you step into the living room you see a few boys, with what seems to be their girlfriends, and Haechan sitting in the middle laughing away with a bottle of Bacardi. When he turns he sees you and you can see his gears turning in his head. The ones that used to manipulate you.

“Y/N, you’re here.”

“I didn’t know you were having another party.”

“Yeah well I was sad that my girl couldn’t show up for some reason so the guys are here to cheer me up. We’re going to be partying all week!”

“Yeah, uhm can I speak to you in private?” Haechan’s eyebrows furrow. There’s a little bite to his tone when he answers you.

“Why can’t you say what you need to say here?”

“Because it’s a little personal.”

“Just like yesterday? Why are you being so secretive Y/N? It’s getting really annoying.” His friends just look at the two of you, some giggle, others ignore the situation, and a few look disappointed in him. One of them you recognize as Jeno, Jaemin’s best friend. You knew he was a good guy. You wondered if Haechan had somehow manipulated him too.

“I don’t want to say it in front of your friends.” He scoffs.

“Just spit it out Y/N, I’m trying to cheer up after you left me hanging.” You could visibly hear the snipping of the threads that kept you tied to him. Miraculously, with all the confidence you could muster you let out the same words he would whisper in your ear.

“I’m breaking up with you Lee Donghyuck.” No one laughed at that. No one dared to as they watched the show unfold in front of them. You can feel Jeno’s eyes on yours but ignore it as yours don’t leave Haechan. He blinks, confusion spreading across his features. He then sits up straight, as if your words were registering late.

“I’m sorry what?” he laughs.

“I’m breaking up with you. You’re a piece of shit of a boyfriend. You only care about yourself. You manipulate people around you to make them feel bad and yourself better just to feed that insanely inflated ego of yours. You don’t bother listening to me or going out with me. You barely even know me after years of dating. I’ve had enough.”

“Fucking unbelievable.” Haechan’s eyes watered but you knew they were fake. He still had to play victim after all.

“You came to break up with me on my fucking birthday!?”

“To be fair, your birthday is Tuesday.” Haechan lets the bottle fall onto the carpeted floor as he gets up in a haste of anger and disbelief.

“You can’t be-”

“Since you always interrupt me, let me do the same. You made me into a shitty person and friend. I willingly let you do that to me. But you know what? I realized that you’re not worth it Donghyuck,” and if using his real name was anything to go by, he immediately knew you were being serious, “You’re not worth being loved by me. I have so much love to give and you always take it for granted. I hope we never have to see each other again after this. I already left all of your things outside your door. I don’t have anything to ask from you because you never care to have me over as much as you do your friends and the girls you sleep with behind my back.” You don’t miss how the color from his face drains, leaving him in a state that you never had the pleasure of seeing him in. You turned and left and as soon as you reached the sidewalk you heard the slamming of a door and Haechan’s loud voice rang through.

“Fuck you! Go fuck yourself! I don’t even need you! I never even fucking loved you! You weren’t special, you were nothing! You are nothing! You’re wrong. You’re the one who doesn’t deserve my love because my love is one of a kind and anyone in the world would be lucky to have it! Now you can say you were the one that lost it.” But you don’t turn around and you let Haechan have the last words. You don’t know what they are as you walk away from him.

Dear Y/N,

I’m happy to have received your last letter. I see that you’ve done a lot of self reflection. I know it must’ve hurt but I can see that you’re ready to move on. Know that you did all of this on your own. I may have provided words of encouragement but you took all the necessary steps towards your happiness. I’m proud of you.

I hope that all goes well for you too. And don’t hesitate to reach out again. Just because you’ve moved on from the relationship you were in doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind hearing from you again. Perhaps, if you find someone who does see you, you can let me know all about them. I’d be willing to hear from you again.

Lovingly,

Huang Renjun

Moving on from Haechan wasn’t so hard when you realized just how much more happy you felt. Even though you grieved the boy you left, you didn’t grieve the relationship. It would’ve been pointless to do so. Eventually, the light returned to your eyes. You didn’t look as tired as you used to. Jaemin would frequently tell you about how much you’ve changed for the better. Sometimes he’d think he’d say too much but you just observed how well he knew you. He even brought you your favorite flowers with a cup of coffee.

Instead of being alone at all the places you liked to frequent, Jaemin was there with you. Sometimes so was Mark. The arcade and music shop became your special places with Jaemin. You also made sure to never miss any Mark’s shows which he appreciated. It brought him near tears when you attended his fifth show in a row, watching how his best friend made every effort to be there.

And when Jaemin asked you to be his girlfriend, you couldn’t help the feelings that spread in your chest. Jaemin loved you so much and he showed it to you. He listened and was always there when you needed him. He never left you behind, you were always next to him. All that mattered was already in your life, you just had to let go of those who didn’t.

This is Y/N please leave a message.

Hey baby, it’s me, we need to talk...please call me back.

Love, can you answer your phone? I need to talk to you please. Please just call back ok?

Why are you hurting me like this? You broke up with me on birth- at my birthday party and now you’re ignoring all of my calls? Could you just please fucking answer? I know you still get my messages. I know you do.

Hey it’s me again, Haechannie, the love of your life. Remember you would call me your love? I do. Listen, I’m sorry for being angry in my last voicemail. It was mean of me to talk like that and I’m really sorry but I was just feeling frustrated that you won’t answer. I just need you to pick up the phone once love, so we can talk. Please, I’m sad that the only way I hear your voice is through your voicemail message. And I can’t seem to find you on campus please just call. I tried looking for you at work but you’re never there and I- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail.

H-hey, b-baby please p-please. I-im sorry. I know, I know I hurt you and I know you’re upset with m-me but please! I have to t-talk to you. I miss you so fucking much please please please call me baby please! F-fucking call me back!

Y-Y/N why won’t you call me back? I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating. I can’t smile. I can’t do shit. I miss you so so so much. I miss kissing you. I want to kiss you. I want you. I need you. I need our cuddle sessions back. And I want us to go for ice cream again. Love, please just pick up your phone.

I heard you’re d-dating Jaemiiin! That’s sooo f-fucking funny. I actshually for uh s-second thought that you..that you started d-dating that b-bastard. D-does he know? Does he know m-my love, that I, Lee Haechan! Was your first in everyyything? That I kissed you first? That I made love to you first? Held you first…I held you first. You fooled me love…huh fooled me goood.

Y/N f-for fucksakes! I love you I-I love you! I love you! Love me back baby please! Love me I need you to love me! L-love me. Love me because it hurts. It hurts so much. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucking c-crying right now and I sound so pathetic. Is this what you want to hear? T-that I cry myself to s-sleep every night wishing you were next to me? And that I, I’ve been drinking too much. S-sometimes I feel like…I feel like I can see you. Like I could just…reach out and t-touch you. And then I reach out and you’re not there! Baby please- you have reached the time limit for this voicemail.

Fucking automated piece of shit! I hate hearing it! I want to hear you! Please love me! Use me. Do anything you want with me baby but please don’t leave me. B-baby please pretty please! Play with my heart. I-I deserve it right? For hurting you, I deserve it and i-if you come back then I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. How does that sound, hmm? Sounds good right love? Please, don’t leave me. I’ll give you my love. You have it all. Your love is one of a kind, your love is the one not worth losing. Come back and love me, I need you to love me, love me so it won’t hurt anymore.

The phone number you are calling is no longer in service.

The phone-

#nct dream #haechan #lee haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan angst #donghyuck angst

101 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 2 months

Text

Lily of the Valley

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason Todd dies and comes back to life. As the League takes him in, he navigates his morality and family values over the years.

Chapters: 12/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Talia al Ghul, Ra’s al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Immortal Jason Todd, League of Assassins Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Protective Talia al Ghul, Good Parent Talia al Ghul, Jason Todd Needs a Hug, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Adopted Children, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Claustrophobia, Child Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Twelve: Wisteria

Talia chuckled as Jason scarfed down his noodles. She moved toward Jason at the booth and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Jason finally started to feel like himself as he ate with Talia, but he could tell that something worried her. "Did you know he was sending me to Gotham before I told you?" Jason asked. He'd finally built up the courage to talk about his time there. Talia shook her head as she quietly pushed Jason to eat his vegetables.

"I didn't know... I wouldn't have sent you there. I didn't like his test, and I don't like his willingness to let you-."

"If it's what I have to do for him," Jason paused. He hated the taste of those words in his mouth. He turned to his pork and dipped it carefully into his curried noodles.

"Don't forget your vegetables, little one. Your time away has altered your palate," Talia whispered. It wasn't what she wanted to say, but neither of them felt like arguing over Ra's beliefs. Talia sipped her beverage, tasting the sweet citrus notes of the liqueur with a sense of sadness about her. Talia moved one of his long curls out of his face. His young face was framed by long curls against his porcelain skin. He almost looked like a Victorian doll, save for his freckles.

Sometimes she would look at him and see his face covered in blood, gasping for air. The crimson color's violent contrast against his cheeks and chin. The bludgeoning was the worst. She cleaned him up that once. His face was bloodied and broken, bones shattered, and Talia remembered how long it took to get the blood out of his hair. It was the only time she was glad he was dead because she feared the peroxide would burn the wounds on his head. He smelled like roses afterward, and Talia wept by his bedside for days. He was only thirteen at the time, and she remembered the soft crying noise he made as he awakened from a month's-long slumber, still in pain. It saddened her to look at him just as much as it soothed her. Death was written all over him. It was her duty to maintain his humanity.

Jason ate his carrots and pak choi as she requested. "Mama?" Jason whispered as he touched her wrist. She blinked hard and smiled at him. "May I have another bowl before dessert?"

"Only if you eat your vegetables," Talia whispered.

"I don't have to have dessert-."

"You'll have dessert. You more than earned it," Talia interrupted. Jason smiled at her as she waited for the waitress to return. "Have you kept up with your training?"

"In between working," Jason nodded. The waitress approached, and Talia ordered Jason a second bowl and allowed him to order dessert. Talia felt good indulging him for once. He rarely got dessert on the island. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm so happy to have you back," Talia whispered. Jason grinned.

Jason finished his second bowl shortly before inhaling dessert. "Would you like to go shopping?" Talia questioned. Jason raised his brow. "Let me spoil you for once."

Jason nodded and followed her out of the restaurant. Something childlike and possessive washed over him, and he grabbed her hand. Talia didn't mind it. Jason never had a childhood, so she relished the moments when he allowed her to treat him like a child. She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "It's alright, little one," Talia whispered.

"Will I have to go somewhere else once Ra's sees me?" Jason questioned. Talia shook her head.

"You proved yourself, so he'll start putting time into having you trained more intensely. Hopefully, he'll allow me to oversee your training when I'm not training Damian," Talia explained.

Jason made a soft noise before following Talia into a train. "Do you know who Nightwing is?" Jason asked. Talia nodded. "Who is he?"

"He used to be Robin," Talia answered gently, "Why do you ask?"

"I met him... And he talked to me," Jason whispered.

"Was he kind to you?" Talia questioned. Jason nodded. "You'll know him and his father soon enough."

Something about her words felt ominous, but he didn't want to ask. "Mama?" Jason whispered. Talia knew he didn't want anything, but she knew he needed to speak to her. "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, Jason," Talia whispered, "Are you alright?"

"I feel a little bit better. I'm excited that we're going home soon," Jason answered. Jason's eyes seemed to flicker with the night lights. With the sunlight gone, his eyes seemed to provide their own light. Talia wondered what Jason really felt. She wondered if he still wanted to hurt himself.

"Jason, do you believe me when I say I love you?" Talia asked.

"I do... But sometimes, I don't know why you'd love me. It seems more trouble than it's worth to love me," Jason whispered. Talia let go of his hand and waited for him to turn to her.

"You're not difficult to love. I love you because you're kind, you're honest, you're gentle... And although the League may frown on your sweet nature, I think it is what makes you the beauty that you are," Talia explained as she pulled his hair away from his face.

The sweet reassurance of her love was enough for the moment. The train stopped, and they walked until they got to a clothing store. They shopped for almost an hour before returning to the jet. Jason showered and slept on the couch where he could be close to Talia. She bathed and stayed with him so he could sleep. The food in his stomach kept him in a relatively deep sleep. She whispered stories to him when he stirred, and the plane took off at dawn as planned.

Jason slept for hours into the morning. By then, his fever was gone. When he awakened, Talia lay fast asleep with the top of her head to his. He pulled a blanket over her and smiled. "Sleep tight," Jason whispered. It reminded him of when he used to sleep in the nursery. He liked the comfort of waking up to his mother. Waking up to a mother.

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ribcages-and-bookpages · 1 year

Text

7DS: Meliodas x F! goddess! reader

(s/c) skin color , (h/t) hair length, (h/c) hair color , (n/n) nickname

You are a female goddess living in the human realm. You were born during the end of the war, and sent to the humans, a village keeping you a secret your entire life. You have stayed out if trouble for years, and have been unable to master your abilities of weapon conjuration and light manipulation. Now, let's catch up to the present, which takes place before the reformation of the Sins, and before the princess goes searching for them.

You ran as fast as your legs would carry you, the cloak around you , tied around your waist, flapping wildly as it threatened to come untied; it was the only thing hiding your wings. You stumbled, your leg bleeding, white lace like birthmarks on your (s/c) skin, wrapping around your leg, across your body, to your upper arm, then stopped; the white tainted by blood on your leg. You had been hurt by some villagers who didn't trust you, they didn't like you already, and then when they spotted the bandages you used to cover your birthmarks unwinding, and they spotted the birthmarks, they attacked you. Calling you a demon, and you didn't disagree, as you couldn't tell them what you were.

Finally, the pain in your leg took over and you stumbled and fell to the ground, using your hands to catch your self. You hadn't noticed you were running near by a tavern, just slightly past the forest. As you turned around, hearing a man shout at you to duck, you did just that and dodged a sword to the face, as a busted sword came into your sight, knocking the first sword out of view. You covered your face with your hands, but stopped when you heard a calm voice speak to you

"Hey, you're okay, Ill handle these guys." He says, and you lowered your hands, and noticed a blond boy in front of you. But those eyes..they held wisdom. They held sadness, and yet held a kindness to them. You knew in that moment, you could trust him as a small smile forced it's way onto his face, and you gave a nod.

Within a few seconds, all the men were on the ground in pain or running away shouting. You shakily tried to stand, and felt your leg give out but before you could drop you felt support under your arm. Looking over, the boy, or..man? He seemed too strong to be a boy, he had to be a baby faced man; he had put your arm around his neck and was letting you lean on him, supporting your weight as he took you towards the forest

"Don't worry, I have a tavern and I can take care of your wounds there." He tells you, and you nodded hesitantly. Everything in your brain screamed 'run! Run! He could be a bad guy!' but your heart knew. Your heart knew he wasn't a bad guy. You knew he'd protect you if they came back. He was telling the truth about helping you. You knew it.

As you entered the tavern, a talking pig greeted you, and you simply gave a tiny smile to reassure the piggy you were okay

"Hurry up! Treat her wounds before she bleeds out!" He shouts at the male, who huffed

"I'm working on it-" he says, moving to help you sit by the bar, then let go of you and smiled, headed up the stairs he soon returned with a box of medical supplies. You were sure he had felt the wings on your back while helping you, but maybe he thought it was something else??? Man, you hoped so.

He got a wet cloth and a bowl of water and began cleaning the wound on your leg, kneeling on the ground in front of you, while you used your hand to push your dress down to cover you, since it didn't cover you well enough from the angle he was at. You turned your head away in embarrassment, and he simply smiled at you, before looking back to your leg, avoiding looking any where else but your face and leg right now. Now wasn't the time to be a pervert! He could do that later. You gave a small hiss of pain, but not much more sound than that as he cleaned your wounds, put a salve on it, then bandaged it

" It's deep, but not enough to need stitches. Just be careful for the next few days, and keep it clean." He says, standing up and smiling at you softly.

"Thank you sir..." You paused, you didn't know your saviors name. He smiled

"Don't worry about it, I'm just a friendly tavern owner!" He says, rubbing the back of his neck. He was obviously hiding something, but then again so were you, so why push?

"Well, thank you friendly tavern owner. I am in your debt." You say, softly, eyes flickering away, then back to him

"Friendly tavern owner, may I stay here for a brief period of time? I was ran out of where I was staying by the villagers, and I do not think I can travel at the moment." You explain, looking at him nervously, But he just smiled

"I was gonna ask you to anyway." He says with a shrug

"Thank you, again." You say, tightening your cloak around your self. No one was ever so kind to you. Not since your original village, which you had become frightened would be hunted if you remained, so you left, this was a long, long time ago, so long ago the village name had been changed and you couldn't find the location any more.

"Are ya hungry?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips, and you responded with a small nod, causing him to grin, and the pig, who had announced him self as Hawk when you arrived, to scoff

"You're going to make her sick with your crappy food!"

"I'm sure it's not that bad-" you started, only for the tavern owner to laugh

"It is that bad. But it always looks good!' he says, and moved behind the bar to begin making you some lunch. You doubted it could really be so horrible, after all, the woman you stayed with as a child couldn't cook to save her life, so you were used to it.

You pulled your cloak hood down, running a hand through your (h/l) (h/c) hair, properly showing your face. The man seemed to stop for a second, then smiled at you and went back to cooking. Little did you know, you made his heart(s) race. You watched him cook, and once it was finished he served it to you and you took a forkful and blew on it, then took a gentle bite. The texture was off..the taste was bad, but it looked amazing. Okay, maybe he was right. But that didn't stop you from tearing up

"Thank you. Not only have you saved me, you have given me shelter for the time being and are feeding me. This is the most kindness I've been shown in such a long time... It's wonderful." You say, softly, sniffling. He looked shocked when you cried, but as you explained, he gave a gentle smile

"Don't worry about it. What's your name anyways?"

"(N/n)" you say, wiping a tear as you took another bite of food

"Well (n/n), you're welcome to travel with me as long as you'd like!" He says, and Hawk gasped

"We're gonna finally have someone else travel with us?! Yes!" He says, doing happy jumps, and causing a small giggle to come from you. This..could be the start of something amazing

#7ds meliodas #meliodas x reader #7DS #meliodas #7ds x reader

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achaotichuman · 2 months

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I FUCKING FORGOT TO SEND YOU ANGST YESTERDAY. NOW I GOTTA SEND TWO TODAY. Tamlin stared at the destruction before him, horror clouding his vision. This... couldn't be real. It just couldn't. His whole life, his whole time as High Lord, he had built his reign on trust, on supporting the working class faerie. He had fought to keep this land from Amarantha for so long. Had turned this place into a sanctuary for faeries fleeing her. He'd thought it was over when Feyre had kicked out Amarantha. That his people were safe. Had they cut off the head of the hydra, only for two more heads to take its place? Prythian's hero turned Prythian's destroyer. The woman left permanently altered by Rhysand's influence. Tamlin couldn't tell if Rhysand had used his mind-melting powers on her or if he had simply manipulated her into submission. He wouldn't put either past him; that man was not given enough credit for his ability to gaslight others. Diplomacy might not be his strong suit, but bullying people into submission was. Tamlin stared at the burned victims, nothing but a few strong bones and ash floating in the wind. Home upon home turned into fuel for the fire. Tamlin stared blankly, stared and stared at his hard work turned into dust. Those monsters had done this and for what? Because of some petty grudge? They had gotten innocent faeries killed. What of the girl who'd mourned two innocent faeries' lives she'd been forced to kill for the good of Prythian? Had Rhysand convinced her she was some dark creature rather than the kind soul Tamlin had seen inside? Tamlin was wiping his tears, prepared to leave and prepare to destroy Hybern and Rhysand for what they'd done to his people when he heard a feeble moan from behind him. "H....eeeeeeelp." Tamlin turned around and saw a little girl flushed and sweating on the ground. With horror, Tamlin realized her hand had been burned off. She must be in unbearable pain. Tamlin slowly approached the girl, hands up in surrender. "I just want to help," Tamlin said softly. He lifted the arm with the stump, using the High Lord magic in his veins to heal her. Then he used his powers to heal the rest of the burns across her body. He heard her sigh as the pain left her. Tamlin smiled tentatively at her, brushing her sticky blonde hair away from her forehead, staring at her wide brown eyes. Trust- that was trust in her eyes, so far from the last looks he'd seen from his sentries. So, Tamlin wove his hand, and a hand made of roses and thorns formed. The girl's eyes widened as she stared at it. "Wow," she whispered. "High Lord?" she asked, staring at him. "Yes," Tamlin said simply. Then he carefully scooped the girl in his arms and walked out of the ruins.

Now Tamlin adopts that little girl.

This made me so sad, but like in a nice way, idk. I like Tamlin being so shocked and genuinely hurt and upset like this. And then him going to helping a little girl. I just can't its so horrible and so nice at the same time. I love it.

#mita the writer #acotar #pro tamlin #tamlin #acotar headcanons #acotar au

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sirenjose · 6 months

Text

Short Margaretha Analysis

Margie is a person who wanted a life beyond the quiet fishing village of Lakeside. She thought she found love, then was abused by that same person. She goes to the manor at the chance of being a "millionaire". She's also been through a lot.

Margie does have several skins where she does some not great things. Like Kroto helping Scrooge fake Bella’s death as a fall. Or skins involving luring and manipulating people, like Aromatherapy Sauna and Mystic Flame which says “she lured lambs onto the path of no return”.

Moonblessed was used by Samhain in the Halloween story but saved by Fenix. And Vile Blossom worked with Netherwalker after being corrupted by the abyss.

Those like Kroto, Moonblessed, and Vile Blossom I think can connect to Margaretha’s (not good) relationship with Sergei.

He was the one who had her give her aunt and uncle a special borscht to knock them out and let them escape the village. He was also the one who abused her when he became drunk.

He saw her like his property, so when he found out she “sought refuge” in Joker’s tent, it says “Sergei couldn’t stand for this”. This was when we know he got revenge on Joker by destroying his face with acid laced in his make-up.

Time passed but eventually “the truth was finally spilled in a fit of drunkenness”. As the next words are Sergei “also” lost his face” on that drunken night, the “truth” should refer to Sergei being the one to ruin Joker’s face (which angered Joker so much he killed Sergei).

Due to Joker’s own mental state having deteriorated over the years while playing the crying clown, from having no hope of ever being the leading role, forcing Joker to humiliate and act foolish in front of an entire audience repeatedly “for the spectator’s joy”, inspired “that innermost, dark part of his soul”. Learning Sergei was the cause of his ruined face and for making Joker unable to “continue playing the role of a sad clown” at Hullabaloo was the last straw.

This was when Joker then caused the Hullabaloo tragedy, burning down the circus that had caused him so much pain and let himself let lose and vent all his suffering by killing everyone.

As for skins like Aromatherapy Sauna and Mystic Flame where she’s involved with luring or manipulating people, I think this is meant to loosely connect to essentially Margaretha’s desire for “someone to rely on, even if it’s just temporarily” as she says herself in her 4th letter.

Going back to Margaretha’s 2nd and 3rd letters, it further details she “uses her beauty and frailty to seek sympathy and protection from others” (though this is said by the manor owner, who has a biased/negative view of everyone).

The reason Margaretha is at risk can tie to how she keeps being in situations where she’s at risk or being hurt, like Sergei abusing her, or the hullabaloo tragedy, or the threat of Mike attacking her. It is situations like these why Margaretha seeks protection.

She wants a comfortable life, without pain, or abuse, or any threat to her life. She’s never been alone, which is why she keeps seeking someone that she can lean on.

Margaretha’s goal ever since before she left Lakeside was to pursue a “better life”. She wasn’t satisfied (at least initially) with the quiet fishing village. As Margaretha herself says in her 4th letter, even though she’s starting to miss Lakeside after all this, she “still wants to see the outside world before heading back”. That was why she went after Sergei, a way out of Lakeside and hopefully to something better. It is unfortunate it is only after too late she discovers how he really is. She escaped Lakeside via Sergei, then went to Joker after a “heated argument” to escape her abuse from Sergei. After escaping the circus during the hullabaloo tragedy, we see in her 3rd letter that “at one point she… truly missed the kinship between the ‘Hullabaloo' circus members” but “went back to her old ways” when she recognized Joker. This was because she sought protection against Mike in case he tried to attack her (due to him thinking she might’ve cause the circus tragedy).

From Margie’s backstory, in relation to her desire for a “better life”, it says she was “used to the good life” but lost ‘all financial security’ when Sergei died. It then says “Margaretha, not knowing how to making[sic] a living, has gained a new understanding of ‘freedom’”.

Compared to someone like Norton, Margaretha did have a semi comfortable life with at least the basic necessities, but she wanted more. This connects to how I said earlier Margaretha wants a comfortable life without pain or difficulty.

She was also interested in seeing more of the world than what was there in that quiet fishing village, which was likely why she tried to join the traveling circus Hullabaloo. She’d never been alone before, forced to care for herself all alone, which is why her backstory mentions gaining a “new understanding of ‘freedom’”. We see she once again is faced with this reality when she realizes how Joker has changed when she sees him attack Violetta. Margaretha is confirmed to have been affected by the drugs, so we should keep that in mind. But she does now want to escape from Joker, and is afraid she might become his next target, yet as she says she now has “no one left to trust”. This means Margaretha herself this time will have to step up and protect herself, which could fit with how she says “If he really does make me his next target, I will never give him the chance, and I won't let myself be fooled again!”

(Margaretha learning to essentially be on her own without having to rely on someone else could be reflected with Kroto after she leaves Golden Rose Theater for a new theater group to perform “Kroto’s Chain”.)

No Margaretha isn’t perfect, but neither is she pure evil.

Yes she’s used to luxury, but she’s also been through a lot of pain. Remember, she “fled” to Lakeside with her aunt and uncle 15 years ago, while she was still young.

Her parents are never mentioned, and the use of the word “fled” can imply something bad happened to them. Then she was betrayed by her fiancé/husband Sergei who she thought would be the love of her life but ended up being a drunk who constantly abused her (who likely also frequently got angry and was possessive of her). She then had to flee the circus that she thought would be her new home as it burned to the ground and everyone within was killed. And finally, at the manor, she is afraid of Mike attacking her due to his belief she may have caused the tragedy, and then afraid of Joker himself when she sees what he did to Violetta.

Yes she does use her “beauty and frailty” to “seek sympathy and protection”, but that's her fear and desperation (to avoid any more danger). It is also due to her lack of ever having to rely on only herself before, but she is forced to confront this reality eventually.

Also, essences aren't 1 to 1. Just like how Norton has a lot of skins that emphasize "greed" with him, yet if you really look at his story, you'll see this is far from the case (desperate to escape poverty to have a comfortable life with the basic necessities).

So same to Margie, even if she seems to have a lot of skins that involve her not doing something good, just summing it up as "evil" is quite accurate.

(I wish it were as easy for me to explain Demi's skins making her look but I feel like we're missing key info about her)

(Demi is called an "insider" and her brother does work for the manor owner, but for now I'm hoping we'll learn more about her soon. That or more if Sam gets released eventually)

(If I said anything wrong about Margie, my apologies. I did this analysis fairly quickly, as I wanted to make sure to clarify my opinion/comments. Please let me know if there's any inaccuracies, because I know there's people who know her a lot better than me)

#idv #identity v #margaretha zelle #female dancer #idv margaretha #identity v margaretha #idv female dancer #identity v female dancer #sirenjose analyses and theories

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lavenderpenumbra · 1 year

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here are my oneshot fic recs that are mostly angst, those that have happy endings will be labeled as such if stated in the fic's description.

main fic rec masterlist

[implied smut] / [smut] / [dark]

After All This Time by @/bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

impending danger puts you and your ex, Bucky, in close quarters.

[i.s] sore spot by @/kinanabinks (h/c)

bucky hits a sore spot when he makes a shitty joke, unknowingly triggering your deepest insecurity.

[s] Always You (happy ending) / (angst only ending & continuation) by @/buckyalpine

You’ve always been Bucky’s first choice.

[i.s.] vodka on the rocks by @/kinanabinks (h/c)

when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.

The Third Wheel by @writing-for-marvel (happy ending)

When Bucky finally asks you out on a date, the last thing you expect is for his high school crush Connie to also have been invited.

[i.s.] Nights Like This by @/writing-for-marvel (happy ending)

There are rules for friends with benefits, and you’ve broken the most important one: don’t fall in love with him.

don't wanna leave by @foreverindreamlandd

Loosely inspired by the song “ceilings” by Lizzy McAlpine. A soft, tender moment of dancing in the kitchen with Bucky, until the song ends and the pain returns.

[s] I Wanna Be Yours by @buckybabesonly (happy ending)

You are afraid to believe that someone like Bucky might actually love you back.

Nothing Breaks Like A Heart by @/buckybabesonly

You finally confess your feelings to Bucky, hoping he might like you back. He turns you down.

[s] Let go by @/buckyalpine

Touched starved and emotionally repressed Bucky gets his release

[d] "Forget Me Not" snippet by @/angrythingstarlight

(bucky just wants to make sure you're okay, that's all)

Love Language by @/bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

You notice that Bucky has started pulling away from your usual physical affection, and it makes you rethink the way you show your love.

I Need Him Like Water by @pellucid-constellations (happy ending)

You think Bucky’s having an affair. He thinks… well you aren’t sure what he thinks. But he must notice the living room light is left on. Every night.

Ignite Your Bones by @sunriserose1023

Bleeding Through the Bandages

Miscommunications by @/buckyalpine (happy ending)

Did you hear him right?

opaline by @rocketrhap3000 (happy ending)

one night when Bucky gets back from a mission, he accidentally snaps at you for trying to comfort him, but realizes he hurt your feelings and finally opens up to you

You're my priority by @winter-soldier-vibes

you feel extremely guilty after a mission in which something you did had caused Bucky to get hurt.

[i.s.] Face to Face by @venusstorm (h/c)

Fearful that Bucky only likes you for your body, you finally gather the courage to tell him how you feel.

The Ultimatum by @/bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky (happy ending)

(implied emotional abuse, manipulative boyfriend, anxiety, general sad vibes)

Be(tter) In Reality WIth Me by @t-lostinworlds (happy ending)

Bucky needed to remind you how he would never ever betray you, especially when the him in your dreams was showing you otherwise.

the three words by @/wwilsonbarness (h/c)

based on the request: Ok, here it goes. Can I request a story where y/n is dating Bucky, it’s new, like they haven’t had sex yet, they both love each other and want to have sex, but Y/n is a survivor of SA, and Bucky will be the first guy she will be with since the assault happen. Can you write about how Bucky will take the news of the assault and how he helps Y/n move past what happened and build a life with him?

Keep the Dr. Away by @cultofcarter (happy ending)

When Dr. Raynor says some hurtful things about your relationship with Bucky, you fear that your time together might be over sooner than you thought.

#fic rec from meg #marvel fic rec #fic recs

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look-how-they-massacred-them · 9 months

Text

Preliminary Poll

Joe

Submission reason:

Your Turn to Die is a Danganronpa kind of game, which, implies *a lot happens*. But as a spoiler-free summary: He deserved so much better. He didnt really have much screentime in the game because of *reasons*. But I think everyone who played the game can agree that what happened to him was really cruel and sad :( He is my man, my baby, my blorbo. He cherished everyone, and tried to stay positive even in difficult situations. He understood everything there wasnt really anyones fault, and that everyone was just trying to survive. HE CHERISHES US EVEN AFTER *THE SITUATION* HAPPENS, AND TELLS EVERYONE HE DOES NOT HOLD ANY GRUDGES. HE IS SUCH AN ANGLE. Yet, because of the circumstances, he was forced to keep trying to survive, having to lie to us. And he even was weaponized later by the narrative, making him a trauma and a bad reminder of how the whole place works. How no one can escape. And still, in the end... he just continued to be honest and trusting of us :') And he ended up like he did, partially because of that. The whole situation was made the way it was so no one could survive if they werent ready to backstab and manipulate others. And thats what led to my boy being massacred :'( HE ALSO HAS A SMALL DOG KEYCHAIN IN HIS POCKET, WHICH HIS BESTIE GAVE HIM. HE IS LITERALLY A SWEETHEART AND YOU ALL SHOULD PLAY THE GAME BECAUSE ITS JUST SO PAINFUL SMH

Propaganda:

^ I mean, I put my main propaganda discourse up there. You can post all of it or modify it however you want, op. And here I will put more images of him because it hurts™ https://i.ytimg.com/vi/CvKI29SbZR8/hqdefault.jpg https://pbs.twimg.com/media/E59EoYgVEAAeEbY.jpg https://i.pinimg.com/736x/6d/21/1e/6d211e133c8267aaeb3d0ff146820324.jpg https://media.tenor.com/Y3SJ_TdyDdAAAAAC/joe-tazuna-jou-tazuna.gif https://img.wattpad.com/28fb81c31d2ec10b23f88dc7d81a209f9cf4cbba/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f706b4f49335f57615130684f78513d3d2d3932363934323836342e313632353564363263666535336563623838333734303834393333392e6a7067?s=fit&w=720&h=720 https://img.wattpad.com/b129fe72c464da3719149b667068bcec65752433/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6b334e492d436c6a3263466b2d413d3d2d3938383431393737312e313634626566363166626234643937613831303035303336303630342e6a7067 https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EraxbugXcAAQZah.jpg https://media.tenor.com/sRfDAfRZUFkAAAAd/joe-tazuna-yttd.gif

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #your turn to die #yttd #your turn to die joe #yttd joe #if this poll gets him in the main bracket #please send me a real submission #it's about comparing how much canon fucked them over #not how popular they are

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lover-of-botatoes · 4 months

Text

The Apple Incident

tw manipulation (?? i think), blood and gore, severed limbs

unfinished. im sick of seeing this in my drafts so here ya go. enjoy.

What point was there even trying to negotiate with the townfolk? They don't know anything.

They'd kill him regardless.

× ★ ×

Screams was all he heard.

Screams of anger.

Nightmare looked on in fear as the villagers gathered, surrounding him with their pitchforks and knives, with their swords and their shields, with their torches burning bright, with a fire in their eyes.

The strong scent of the torches burning filled the air, smoke making Nightmare's throat sore and his eyes water, while he clanging of metal and banging of wood hit his ears over and over again, the sound blending together to form white noise.

Of course Nightmare would do something like this! He was good for nothing, that wretched boy! He shouldn't even exist!

His brother was the only one in the whole village that even looked at him — much less formed a bond with him!

What point was there even trying to negotiate with the townfolk? They don't know anything.

They didn't know how Dream comforted him over and over, how they always sat together, how they always played together, how Dream refused to leave his side.

Nightmare doubted that they had even the slightest idea of their love for each other, the only thing in their minds being to rid of him.

Dream would not like this — who would?

A murder of an innocent boy, a boy who always kept to himself, a boy who never talked to people, a boy who never even played.

Dream was the only one who stayed with him.

How do you think he would react to seeing his brother dead, cold, lifeless body sprawled on the grass?

Nightmare doubted he would be all too pleased.

The thought of yes, Dream will come save me comforted him as the people got closer, moving like a predator stalking its prey, and Nightmare's face shifted through several emotions — fear, regret, guilt, remorse — but when he heard that voice, egging him on, those feelings disappeared, replaced with RAGE.

Dream was all but forgotten.

He gripped the once-golden apple in his hand, its ink-black juice dripping off the white bones that held it as he took a tentative bite, tasting the flavour before the bites got greedier, growing in tandem with his rising power.

It tasted sweet with a sourness to it, an addicting flavour that helped Nightmare eat all the black apples one by one, never halting.

He began changing — his body was leaking, trying to adjust to the amount of negativity in it — while Nightmare was just adding to it, more, more, more—

He took one last bite before his painful shriek split the air as four great, black tentacles burst from his back as they pierced him — like knives — and writhed, enjoying their newfound freedom.

Voices echoed through Nightmares skull as he struggled to keep a hold on himself, losing control over his own body.

The voices grew louder and louder until they were deafening, a mangled screeching in his ears, a cacophony of a thousand words, screamed and screamed over and over again.

KILL THEM.

KILL THEM ALL.

DON'T SPARE ANYONE.

The voices pounded at his skull, threatening to crack it as Nightmare clutched his head in pain.

But even though Nightmare was in such pain, such utter agony, he could feel his magic swelling, practically bursting at the seams. Getting so weak.

His cyclopean eye light shone like a second moon in the sky, the teal light it emitted near blinding to look at.

Dream wasn't there.

Of course he wasn't.

Why would he want anything to do with Nightmare? That sad excuse for a brother, never talking to anyone, always sitting under that tree, reading book after book after book.

Look at that brother now! A horrid excuse for a living creature, barely even managing to stand on the grass, melting and dripping.

In actuality, Dream was screaming at Nightmare to come back, please, nearly collapsing as tears sprung from his eyes, cascading down his ivory cheeks in golden waterfalls that made his eyes shimmer in the light of the setting sun.

Don't forget me.

When Nightmare finally brought his hands away from his head and looked up, it wasn't Nightmare that Dream was looking at.

It was a monster.

It was a horrid beast that had taken Dream's brother, killed what was left of Nightmare and stole the body, desecrating the corpse.

The screaming in Nightmare's head never subsided as Dream paused, staring into the one eye that his brother still had.

Dream shook as Nightmare simply grinned, glimmering white teeth splitting his face as his eye narrowed in delight.

"Looking for your brother?"

A voice that wasn't Nightmare's cut through the air, taking silence's place as it reached Dream's ears in an instant.

"It's useless.

He's gone."

The low tone that came from what Dream once called his brother didn't help as he suppressed his sobs, his whole body shaking as his emotions grew too much.

Nightmare reached to the top of his head and gently plucked the crown off of it, staring at it for less than a second before he crushed it in his hand, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

"I need a crown fit for a king."

He looks at his empty hand for a moment before looking to Dream.

"Your bones will do nicely."

Dream panicked, letting out a shriek and covering his eyes, trying to think of a way out of this.

The last golden apple was still in Dream's pocket, sitting snugly, unaware of what was happening outside.

Dream took the shimmering apple out, the golden juice spilling from his fingers and dripping to the ground as he tightened his grip on it.

"Now, about that apple..."

Dream shoved the thing in his mouth as a taste that could only be described as heavenly overwhelmed his senses, changing him.

The apple took its place in Dream's hollow ribcage, beating just like a real, glowing SOUL, full of love.

He began to feel his power grow as his eye lights flickered and flared like candles, the influx of happy and positive flooding him, pounding at his head as he pressed his mouth into a thin line in a futile attempt to ignore the splitting pain he felt in his skull.

"Nightmare... Please, you don't—"

The moment Dream uttered those words, Nightmare got very close, eye socket widening in irritation, staring right at Dream.

"Oh, so that you can ignore me again? So that you can act like I'm not here, that I'm not your brother?"

Nightmare gripped Dreams shoulders, keeping him from leaving.

"MAYBE IF YOU HADN'T LEFT, YOUR BROTHER WOULD STILL BE HERE."

Dream's breath hitched as tears began to flow from his empty eye sockets, golden light making the tears look like liquid gold as they fell down his bony cheeks like golden waterfalls.

Nightmare gripped Dream at his neck, bringing him off the ground before Dream summoned a staff and struck Nightmare.

The weapon went right through the viscous muck, doing nothing, but it caught Nightmare off-guard enough that he loosened his grip on Dream, allowing him to fall back to the ground.

"LOOK AT YOU."

Nightmare practically screamed at Dream.

"HOW COULD YOU STRIKE YOUR OWN BROTHER?"

Dream shut his ears, pressing his hands firmly to them as he screamed.

"WHAT CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF, DREAM?"

The way Dream's name fell off Nightmare's tongue made it sound like it had a nasty taste, a bitterness that was absolutely horrid to eat, and it pierced Dream's newly found SOUL, nearly tearing it in half.

Dream clutched at where it would be, the pain enveloping him as he dropped his staff.

Nightmare pierced the hearts of each and every one of the townsfolk with his sharp tentacles while Dream weeped on the ground, helpless.

He pulled limbs from bodies, twisted arms and legs, pulled heads off.

Blood filled the village as the strong smell of copper filled the air, Nightmare just... Grinning.

He made a move to do something to Dream, walking slowly—

Dream brought up his staff again, golden tears flying, and fought against Nightmare, tentacle versus staff, negative versus positive, brother versus brother.

It was a useless battle.

There was simply no way for Dream to win against Nightmare, and this grew more and more obvious as the fight went on.

"Nightmare, please—!"

Stone.

Dream was solid stone, the golden apple within his ribcage shining brightly.

#dreamtale #dreamtale brothers #undertale au #utmv #dream sans #nightmare sans #im so tired of this sitting in my drafts so you guys get a half finsihed thing #fic #my writing. i wrote that

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henriettasyarn · 2 months

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The Scientific Method of Turning Thirty: Chapter One - Part Two of Three, by @henriettasyarn

Growing up in Birmingham, Alabama, I had the great fortune of well-educated, progressive, Episcopalian parents. In the Episcopal church, doubt is everything. Without doubt and questioning, how can one have a true, authentic, relationship with God? I was taught at a young age that blind faith is not faith at all and that you must forge your own path to the divine. One day after school, I was probably in fourth or fifth grade, I told my dad about a complicated conversation I had with my classmates. After lunch that day, Morgan and her Baptist besties came over to me and asked if I had been “saved.” Clearly, conversion was on their collective mind. This was roughly 2004, prior to the evangelical-manipulation-revolution of the twenty-tens, when they began luring you in with a casual coffee date after class or maybe even a pre-game in their dorm room, only to reveal their true mission on the second or third date: eternal salvation. No, in suburban Alabama, the evangelicals of the early 2000s were fueled by fire and brimstones. The method to their witness was to place two choices before their subjects: altar call salvation at their upcoming Sunday morning concert or eternal damnation in a fiery hell with Hitler and Dahmer. This was also around the time that the Bathodists and the Babbel-ers discovered projectors, powerpoint presentations and electric guitars.

Anyways, Morgan needed to know if I had been saved. I asked, “I don’t know, what does that mean?” One of the Baptist besties said, “if you have to ask, then you for sure have not been saved.” Naturally, I became defensive. When I’m on the defense, my instinct is, and always has been, to reason with the aggressor. It didn’t work at ten and it rarely works at thirty. I dove deep into an explanation of the history of the Anglican Church. I explained communal prayer, infant baptism and confirmation. I explained the liturgy and communion. I felt great afterward — I distinctly remember feeling so proud for having shared what a real church is like to these simpletons whose idea of peak Christianity was a mission trip to Gatlinburg or Gulf Shores. Morgan deflated my giant head in one instant, “Oh wow, since you drink wine at church, that means your entire family is going to H-E-double hockey sticks. I don’t think we can be friends with you anymore.”

How was that her only takeaway from my monologue of self-righteousness? I was baffled and annoyed and jealous. They pranced away in their two-tone north-face jackets and left me alone to contemplate the eternal damnation of every member at my rather large, and extremely well-funded, Episcopal church on the other side of town. That evening, I gave my dad every detail of the interaction. I likely included my in-depth analysis of their body language and their outfits as well. This was one of my earlier lessons on humility. Instead of telling me they were wrong, he told me that, just like me, they go to their parents’ church. He said that there are many different ways to find God and our way is not the right way and it doesn’t work for everyone. We talked about my Catholic cousins and my Baptist cousins, all older than me and all iconic role models of my burgeoning adolescence. He reminded me that we aren’t prejudiced toward them for following a different belief system than our own, so we shouldn’t judge or belittle our classmates either. My cousins, though, never made me feel outside; when we were together, we were the same. The confrontation from Morgan and her Baptist besties made me feel “other.” I embrace feeling different, but the feeling of otherness was not the same feeling as having pride in my differences. When someone’s actions cause you to feel less-than, you develop a pain and a sadness that doesn’t easily go away.

Sprinkles’s god is not a false god. Whatever path you choose for yourself to the divine is right because you chose it of your own free-will and, hopefully, it brings joy, peace and harmony to your life. Two stories come to mind when I think about Adam and his pentecostal upbringing. The first is about gothic architecture and his ignorant Sunday school teacher, Miss Jan. During his elementary and middle school years Adam changed schools nearly every year; in third grade, Adam saw three or four different elementary schools. His parents weren’t settled, made some financial mistakes, and didn’t get their shit together in time for their first born, resulting in little Adam having to make new friends all the time. He got really good at this. He learned how to spot the kinder kids in the lunchroom and found ways to adapt his personality to maintain a satisfactory level of comfort wherever he was. One morning in Sunday school, Miss Jan was telling Adam and his fellow elementary attendees that goths were demonic. I can’t remember the exact details, but all you need to know is that a grown woman was telling young people to go about their lives hating other kids in the name of god because they were inherently evil. As a young guy who moved a lot, Adam found the alternative, punk, goth, nerdy crowd to always be the most welcoming to the new kid. These were his people. They weren’t evil. Adam is also very smart. He began reading at really young age and was already familiar with the Gothic era of architecture and literature. He, poignantly I’m sure, asked his Sunday school teacher, “How can a building be evil? Gothic is a type of architecture.” In response, he got slapped.

The second story is about a guy named Chad Brown. Chad Brown was Adam’s youth pastor in high school. Teenage Adam respected Chad. Teenage Adam found comfort in Chad’s disdain for the over-the-top shama-lama-C-O-L-C-O-As (for those of you unfamiliar with southern pentecostal churches, that is the noise that a pentecostal makes when they want some extra attention from the preacher). I think Adam’s time with Chad was very healing for him. He found someone who could simultaneously laugh at the fuss and affirm their shared upbringing. One day, Chad gave Adam some advice. He told him that we’re never fully ourselves all the time and that it’s okay, and even necessary, to be different versions of ourselves when we’re around different people. He told teenage Adam to get some metaphorical masks and get on with his life. So, that’s what Adam did and I think that was liberating for him. It makes me really sad. I like to think that I know the real Adam and that Adam knows the real me: the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. I love the real Adam, unconditionally. He is so fun, so kind, SO smart, so loving and hearing his unaltered thoughts and unrestrained opinions on the goings on of the world make him even more lovable and intriguing. I love knowing him and my heart breaks for his family who don’t know him like my family and I do.

#henriettasyarn #original post #original work #author #writer #writerscommunity #writers and poets #female writers #creative writing #writing #chapteroneparttwo #evangelism #toxic christianity #christianity #episcopalian #alabama #deep south #millenials

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vikingmagic33 · 9 months

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Part 3/3 is ready for this wonderful Helion/Lady of Autumn fic started by @thehaemanthus and @hlizr50

As a preson who writes mostly Gwynriel, I've had a wonderful time meeting new writers and flexing my sklls for some of the smaller and delightful ACOTAR ships. Thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing ACOTAR Writing Circle 3. Here is the link to the entire collection of amazing fics. ACOTAR Writing Circle 3 Masterlist.

Someday, Today | Helion x LoA

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 are also on AO3. For those of you who are all caught up, the NSFW text of my contribution for Part 3 is below.

The feel of his warm mouth on hers was more intoxicating to her senses than the single flute of champagne she’d allowed herself at the gala. Cora hadn’t been kissed in longer than she cared to admit, even quietly to herself. Beron had never been one for kissing and she hadn’t even thought about dating since the divorce.

People had assumed that seven kids meant a healthy, amorous marriage, but that had never been her life. Socialites at the club used to titter behind their hands and wiggle suggestive brows, ‘Beron just can’t keep his hands off you.’ No. He could not. Only a handful ever saw past his smooth words to notice his too-tight grip on her upper arm or his disapproving glare at some invented misstep she’d pay for when they were alone. He was always looking for reasons to prove that she belonged to him.

When she dared to sit on a committee with some handsome donor, she paid. If she spoke to another man at a fundraiser, no matter how briefly, she paid. If one of the boy’s many coaches, tutors, or even the few male members of Beron’s household staff chose to approach her, she was the one who paid.

Beron was insane. She hadn’t seen it at first. It started so slowly that she could hardly notice or object. His devotion shifted until stifling. His protection contorted to control. His manipulation was so thorough that she hadn’t even been surprised by the first slap. She thought she might even deserve it. Either way, he didn’t have the time or the inclination to try to kiss her. When he had, it was all pressure and teeth and filled with anger until it hurt. It was meant to hurt. With Beron everything was meant to hurt.

Perhaps that was why she’d risked a night with Helion those years ago. She was tired. She was lonely and sad. She needed something to cling to that was beautiful and her own. Helion had been hers. They’d been young and stupid, but they had loved one another, she was sure of that. As he kissed her, she could recall how tenuous her hold had been years ago. She knew that unless she found something beautiful to believe in she would die. She would die and leave her children alone with a monster.

She could never think of harming herself, but Beron would break something inside her irrevocably, eventually. It hadn’t been honorable, but it saved her nonetheless.

Where Beron was lean and handsome but hard, cold, and sharp, Helion was muscular, warm, and rolling. He managed to hold his massive body in a way that promised care and tenderness. He was power, but all promise with no threat. He was a heat that fed and never burned.

Beron used sex to demean her. That part had been a shock that Cora hadn’t been ready to learn. Helion had broken her heart with indecision and fear, but when they’d been together he was sensuality that only cherished and worshiped. She’d seen him four years ago and she’d known that she needed him. She’d needed him to remind her of that tenderness like she needed air.

That one night had kept her alive for years. She’d felt his tenderness take root inside her and she’d known that Beron had not broken her yet and he could never claim her again. Her proof had quickened and squirmed. Then she’d birthed it into the world in pain and hope and defiance.

His warmth surrounded her again. She craned her neck to kiss him and felt her back stretch up along the wall. He pressed harder and they tumbled away from the bedroom and her sleeping boys.

They made it down the hall, their backs gliding along outdated wallpaper and nearly toppling the tiny thrift store table she’d painstakingly restored. It held her keys, her mail, a whistle, and her mace.

“Shhh.” She giggled, reaching out to right the table before the noise clattered down the hall. She relished in the sound and the proof that she could still laugh. “And don’t you dare break my table. I like this one.”

“God, I’ve missed you.” He breathed. “I was such a fool, Cora.” She loved the sound of his voice. She loved the way he pressed her against the wall.

Thankfully, her boys were deep sleepers. But, what was her plan exactly? Helion pulled her leg up over his hip and she arched into the feel instinctively. She wanted him and that fact alone floored her. She’d been on autopilot for years, decades really. She’d locked that part of her personality away. She’d hidden her need and her desire from everyone, but mostly from herself. She could be that and live, but that was before. Feeling him against her, holding her up against the wall with his strength and his promise, she let the locked box dissolve and she welcomed that freedom with a moan.

She slid her leg down his thigh to stand again against him but on her own weight. Helion spun her around. They loved this position in college. It was feisty and raw. He pressed his cock against her ass, as one massive hand clamped down on the delicate curve where her neck met her shoulder. Her whole body froze, frigid with horror and slick with shame.

Cora was frozen in his arms. He felt that immediately. “Cora?” He whispered her name and released his grip on her neck and her hip. His hands remained on her, but they were soft and waiting.

“Don’t.” It was a grunt, not a world. “Please,” Cora begged. “Just not like that. I can’t,” She tried to continue, but her voice was rough and strained. “I mean… I could try.”

“No.” He cut off her words. She didn’t need to explain. She didn’t need to beg, and she certainly didn’t need to try. Whatever that meant. “Hey, babe. It's okay. I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything. You know that, don’t you?”

“I don't want it to ruin this.” She hissed and finally turned to face him. “To ruin us. I can try.”

“Cora, stop,” Helion spoke more firmly than he’d intended and he caught her wince. “I don’t want you to try. Whatever we do tonight or in the future, I want you to love it.” Helion tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. He kissed her again softly, once on the cheek, then her nose, then her lips. “Show me what you want. What sounds fun to you, Cora? You were very turned on a minute ago.” She blushed at his words. “Don’t try to deny it.” He teased.

“Very.” Her breathiness held no shame or embarrassment and they both relaxed at the sound.

“Okay.” He kissed her again. “Let's start there.”

“Let's.'' She pressed her face up into his next kiss. Then she kissed him hesitantly, but he could tell she was back. She was her and she wanted him.

Cora felt it stir again. It was just like the last time. She let her eyes drift closed and her body melted into this warmth. She felt whole and safe and sexy. She saw herself then and she was a woman, not a wife owned and not a mother doting. That woman wanted him and that woman would take him. Cara thanked her doctor for her IUD and giggled again.

“What's so funny?” Helion kissed a little spot on her ear. She smiled, remembering that it had been a favorite of his.

“I just told you that you’re a father.” It still felt a bit heady to admit it out loud. “And that my life has been a horror.” She refused to turn away from his knowing gaze. “And you still want me, just like we were teenagers out after curfew.”

He didn’t move, but his face sobered a bit. “We can sit and talk. We will eventually need to make a plan about Lucien.” He started to pull away, but she grabbed his wrist and held it somewhere near her hip. “But honestly, Cora, I just want to touch you right now. I want to feel you. I want to be close and show you that it doesn't have to be bad or hurt. I see a strong woman, a mother doing the best she can for her boys, but I also see a sexy coed who turned my head and drove me fucking wild. Whoever you want to be, I want her in every possible way.” His intensity was potent.

“I don’t know what or who I am yet, not really.” She paused. “but I want you, Helion. I’ve always wanted you.”

“Show me.” He begged and she liked the sound. She could feel his muscles bunch under her hands. He was holding back. He was waiting for her to lead him. She was in charge and her world tilted a bit on its axis. It tilted toward happiness and possibility.

Cora reached up and unclasped her pearl studded earrings and dropped them into the dish on the tiny table beside her. Helion collapsed back against the opposite wall and moaned slightly, entranced by the sight of her starting to undress. The sound startled her. Shit.

“Wait here.” Cora dashed down the hall to the kitchen. She’d just seen that stupid thing in the junk drawer and had been meaning to drop it in the donation bin at work. Thankfully, she’d been too distracted at the time. “Aha!!” Cora fished out an old baby monitor and punked it on the counter to keep rummaging for a cord, handset, and hopefully a fresh set of batteries. All of which she found quickly. She thanked the powers that be, who apparently wanted Cora to get laid.

She crept back into the boys' room. She’d never used it in that room, but after seven kids she knew the exact spot to angle the camera. Once back in the kitchen, Helion was nibbling on her ear, as she bent over the counter fumbling with the pack of spare batteries for the handset. She felt him rub his hands over her body and pull her flush against his erection. He was kissing her ear and her neck and it was nothing like the sensation that had froze her lust before. This was all heat and pleasure. She finally got the batteries in. An image sparked to life on the device, just as a screech of feedback cracked the air.

“Shit.” She huffed as they both froze. Her house was so small and the monitor was only a few feet away. She turned it off,

“Did we wake them?” Helion whispered through a nibble. She listened. Nothing.

“No.” Cora tugged him down the hall toward the front door. “Let's go.”

“Go where Cora?” He asked, but she noted he was still following her. He always would.

“To your car.” Cora turned and kissed him again as she pushed him out her front door. “Now, dammit.”

“Whatever you say.” He purred and she knew it was true.

Helion would stop the second she was uncomfortable. He’d pivot perfectly if she changed her mind. He was truly confident and open and he’d never needed to prove his worth on her flesh. His type of love seeped into her marrow and steeled the strength that had always been there.

He watched Cora pull open the passenger side door to the buttery leather backseat of his new Jaguar. It was impractical and selfish, but he drove it rarely to compensate for the conspicuous luxury.

“Get the fuck in here.” She hissed at him with want and suddenly he was twenty years old again and horny as fuck. His body pumped every spare drop of blood down into his throbbing cock. Damn. She’d always had that effect on him. Thankfully, she seemed willing to help him with his condition. Though the feeling of her freezing in his hands still lingered in his mind. What had that fucker done to her?

If only he’d been ready all those years ago, maybe he could have spared her. He’d traveled the world and built his empire and fucked anyone he wanted. That had been his plan and he’d been happy. Then he'd seen her and held Lucien in his arms and all he could think was that he’d missed the first three years of his son’s life. Then he’d heard about Beron and all he could think was that he could have saved her from it. Every one of those boys could be his. She’d have never had to endure all that she’d shared.

His hand clenched on the door handle. He wanted to rip it from its hinges. He wanted to find Beron and unleash the same level of harm that he’d shoveled onto Cora for all those years. He wanted to feel Beron freeze in terror and watch his eyes go round and furtive, looking for an escape. He wanted to watch the bright color in his face shift to a haunted pallor. He wanted him to be afraid of any movement.

Helion grit his teeth. He felt the energy in his body changing for a fight instead of for a fuck and that just could not be born. Cora was the one who deserved his undivided attention. By some miracle, she still wanted him and he wouldn’t let her feel any of his menace or his rage. He’d find a way to ruin Beron later. That fact was clear. He would ruin that man, but he would never become the monster that he hunted. He could be vicious, but he was way more creative and Beron wouldn’t see him coming.

He silently vowed that he would commit his life to Cora. They would both learn what it was to have love and respect. The boys would see what it meant to be your best for your family. They would see what was to cherish and to love. He would be the example for them that Beron never could be.

But that was for later. Beron and the boys would be something to sort out later. Standing at that car door, Helion would worship, fuck, and tease that woman in a way that was only for them.

He hunched down and slid onto the seat. He’d never been in the backseat of his own car before and it was weird to see it all from back there. He turned in the dark to Cora. The windows were tinted. The lights of a passing car barely registered on her cheek, but it illuminated her smile and he melted.

“Come here.” She demanded and Helion complied.

He’d always been drawn to her. He’d had many lovers over the years but nothing compared to touching Cora. He needed her. He needed to taste her and to be inside her. He prayed that was what she had planned.

He watched as Cora reached under her gown. Her shoes sparked from the floorboard. She was still in her dress from the gala and he watched as she slid her panties off. They were not lace. They didn’t match her gown as he’d been imagining earlier in the night. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that to himself. They were hot pink and clearly made more for the gym and never intended to go under a designer dress. It was dark and he reached for them, but she batted his hand away. He could have sworn they had tiny barbells in the pattern. For a thong, they had a shocking amount of fabric and probably came up to her waist. She blushed and started to speak, but he’d never seen anything hotter. She was a grown woman owning her sexuality and her body and she was what it meant to be sexy without even trying.

Helion took in the sight of her. This woman’s body had created seven people. He noticed a few stray marks of those miracles etched into her physical strength. His gaze snagged on a few scars. There was still the one from when they first tried rollerblading at the waterfront. She’d needed twelve stitches just above her knee. He ran his thumb over it and they both laughed. His laugh died on his lips though as he saw the others. Beron’s evil had stayed on her skin in a few raised welts and tiny jagged snarls. But Beron was her monster and she had conquered him. The scars were part of her and she was beautiful.

He devoured her mouth in seconds. His hand gripped one luscious thigh as he dragged her leg across his lap. She turned to face him as he notched her knee into the leather, pressed into the curve of his waist. She moaned and lowered her weight onto his straining lap. Then she giggled at his sigh.

Another passing car cast light across her beautiful face and that time she ducked into his neck with a slightly nervous laugh. His hands slid down to her ass and he rolled up against her core suggestively.

“What do you want, Cora.” He breathed, but it was begging.

“Want?” Her voice was a raspy snarl that he hadn’t heard all night, that he hadn’t heard in years. “We are well past want, Helion. What I need is for you to fuck me. Show me what I’ve been missing. Make me remember.” He had been begging, but she was commanding and he was game.

“Fuck.” Helion muttered as he reached down to his waistband.

She rode him slowly dragging her dress further up around her waist. She arched back and draped one pale arm out over the headrest of the front passenger seat. Her shoulders settled in the space between the seats and everything he’d ever wanted was on full display before him.

Helion was frantic. He unzipped his pants and lifted slightly to drag them down over the muscles of his thighs. She hissed at the sight of his length.

“Oh.” Cora breathed and licked her lips “I’m starting to remember already.”

Many women were intimated by his size. It was a blessing and a curse and had ruined more than one night of passion in his life, but never with Cora. It was like she’d been built just for him. As though she could hear his thoughts, she lifted up onto him.

“Go slow, babe. Don’t rush it.” He warned her. He didn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her. It wasn’t really fair to expect that they would just fall back into their old patterns as though no time had passed. She leaned forward again. This time dragging her core over his naked cock. She was wet.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Hel.” She nipped at his ear.

There she was. She was the fiery woman he’d fallen in love with so many years ago and never managed to find a way to fall out. She reached between them and wrapped her long cool fingers around his throbbing length. She swiped her entrance a couple of times with the tip and he nearly came. Then slowly she pressed down hungrily until she was perfectly flush with his body and his cock was buried deep inside her.

He ground his teeth to keep from screaming. There was a real chance that he’d alert the whole neighborhood to the fact that two grown-ass adults were fucking the backseat like horny teenagers. A light snore came from the monitor on the seat and Helion nearly laughed, until she started to move. Just a slight roll of her hips at first. It wasn’t timid, but testing. She was adjusting, feeling.

“Oh god.” She moaned.

“Is it coming back to you now, Cora?” Helion teased.

“I never really forgot.” She breathed the words and his chest tightened.

She gripped the front of his shirt with her right hand and he squeezed her ass. He expected to pull her closer, to feel her face against his neck, but Cora held the tension in her arm. She hooked the tops of her feet into the inside creases of his knees and pulled his thighs apart as she leaned further back and sunk even deeper around him.

Then she started to move with more authority and he held his gaze in the darkness. She was claiming something with each movement. Was it him? Perhaps, but also so much more. She was claiming and she was giving. She rode him harder. There was no fucking way he was going to last. Not with all his emotions so close to the surface, not with the weight of every single revelation she’d offered him that night, and not with the years he’d spent pining for this amazing woman.

“Yes.” She huffed. “Right there.” She grunted.

He had to admit that loved the position. He loved the view of her small breasts bouncing slightly under the silk of her dress and the way her eyes blazed and her lips parted on the animalistic sound. He needed her to come. He needed her to know that it was about her. He needed to know that she would let him take care of her. His hand slid up her thigh. He splayed his fingers around her hip and dug deep into the flesh as his thumb found her clit.

“Come for me, Cora,” He begged. “Let me get you off. Let me give you that.” Please. He thought the word but managed not to say it.

She was taking her own pleasure on his body. That much was clear and he loved to see it, but he wanted her to let him give something too. He wouldn't manipulate her, especially in the bedroom or even in the backseat of a car. He’d have to be careful with her though. There would be so many triggers after so many years of abuse, but he was honored to navigate them. He wouldn’t trust anyone else with her ever again, except for her.

A few strokes of his thumb and her forehead settled against his own and her mouth opened in a silent scream. He felt her walls clamp down around his cock and her movements were jerky and erratic. She managed those few small squeaks that he remembered so well. Her eyes were closed but he felt her breath on his face and felt her attention on every bit of his body and soul. He would never walk away again. He would never again fail to be the man she needed.

The sound of their breaths filled the space and then she smiled a lazy sated smile only inches from his face. She kissed the tip of his nose as she lifted herself slowly along his length. Both his hands grabbed her hips and he looked down to watch his glistening cock disappear inside her warmth and then reappear covered in her release and chilled by the air. He shuddered. Cora was fucking perfect.

She built the rhythm that he craved and she devoured him with a ferocity that had his body threatening to finish with an embarrassing quickness. A few more thrusts and he clamped his hands on her hips to keep her still as he spilled deep inside her. He opened his eyes and she was watching him closely. There was a nervousness creeping back into her gaze.

“What happens now?” She asked quietly, but not shyly.

“Now, you should consider going back inside that house. Maybe kiss your boys. I do suggest a shower though, you reek of sex, my love.” She swatted him on the shoulder.

“You don’t get to judge. You’re the reason I smell this way,” She smiled. “Plus you’re no better.”

“True, but I don’t have anybody to hide it from.” He said it casually, but his tone carried the weight he wasn’t saying. She nodded once with a satisfied smile. His message had been received.

“The boys wouldn’t understand anyway.”

“Unless Eris comes home again.” He hadn’t meant to mention the boy. His rudeness from earlier still prickled. She started to apologize for him but stopped.

“He’s just a senior in high school.” She said with a tone that told him that she recognized her foolishness. He cut her a glance of knowing eyes. She just rubbed her hands over her face. “I can’t deal with that right now. Can we not talk about that tonight? Can we not talk about Eris?”

“Yes, anything you want.” He purred. “But I want you to go inside and kiss the boys, shower, and I want you to fall asleep knowing something for sure: I'm ready, Cora. I’m not some green boy anymore.” She raised her eyebrow and glanced around the car. “Fine. Backseat shenanigans aside. I’m a grown man and I’m not afraid. I’m a father and I plan to do everything in my power to be that every day for you, for them, and for myself. I won’t squander this chance.”

“I should tell you.” She paused and he slid from her body with a hiss. “I can’t have more.”

“More? What do you mean?”

“Kids.” Cora rushed ahead. “The doctor said it could be dangerous for me.”

“Should we have waited?” His heart raced in panic. He’d only just vowed to protect her. “Did we just put you at risk?”

“Oh no. It's fine. It's taken care of.”

“You’ve had surgery?” He was relieved. That was probably the safest solution for her. Her face went stony.

“Beron golfed with my doctor. Beron wouldn’t allow it. Kids were his… well. Nevermind.” She shook her head. “I went to Planned Parenthood. I got an IUD. No record for him to find.” She locked gazes with Helion, needing him to understand. “He’d have beaten me if he’d suspected.” She paused again. “He’d have killed me if he’d known.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I send a little bit of each check to them and a few other charities for women.” Her voice softened. “I’m not telling you this for sympathy, but you should know that I cannot give you more children. I wouldn’t even if I could. I’m done.”

He grabbed her in his arms and she sighed. It was easy to let whispered promises fall from his lips into her ear and against the skin of her neck. He tried to stay in the moment with her. He knew that his drive home would be full of moments spent relishing the scent of her on his skin and the memory of her pleasure seizing and rippling around him.

He’d also be hatching a plan. The seeds of which had already taken root. He’d need to use someone good. He needed someone he could trust and who was subtle enough to pull it off without any blowback on him, but most importantly on Cora or the boys. Thankfully, money was no issue. He could afford the best. Shit. He could afford The Shadowsinger. He was just the man to bring Beron to his knees and to know how to leave him there long enough to break him.

Beron had his chance to be a good man and to be a good father to those boys, but he’d been nothing but just poison. He’d manipulated his money and his power to harm those he could have loved most. Never again.

“I don’t need more kids, Cora. All I need is you.” He kissed her once on the cheek. “Plus…” He laughed. “We already have seven, my love. I think we are good on the kid front.”

She pulled back and studied his face. “You mean that don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do. Now get some sleep and I’ll be back to take you all to breakfast.” He smiled back. “I plan on wooing you, Cora. In the full light of day. Are you ready for that?”

“I guess we will find out.” Cara giggled and beam back at him.

“I guess we will, my love.”

#acotar writing circle 3 #acotar fanfiction #helion x loa #helion spell cleaver #lady of autumn #acotar modern au #single mom of many #second chances #grown ass people getting naked in the backseat #i had so much fun writing this #let me know what you think #helion's thighs are my new drug of choice

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thiccpersonality · 2 months

Text

My Sweet Cup, Why Do You Taste So Bitter?

(Warning: Emotion/psychological and physical abuse, implied/Reference R*pe/noncon, manipulation, dubious consent, self-hate, self-h*rm (though it's not too explicit), etc. Minors DNI)

XXX

Bruce truly never enjoyed alcohol. He never liked the thought of losing control in front of people, and despite what things may seem, he doesn't have that great of a tolerance for it anyway. Of course just because he doesn't like to indulge in it much, it doesn't mean he's never drank it, only on certain occasions like weddings, very specific parties (like with close friends) or when he is feeling anxious and frantic about his thoughts.

And boy has Bruce been thinking a lot lately. He has been trying to figure out what he did wrong-scratch that-what his family did wrong to deserve the lot they've gotten in life. It's only been a handful of years since Superman turned into a psychopathic, grieving, dictator…but it feels more like a millennium.

Bruce's memory feels scattered over these past few years, maybe he has tried to bury these things away? Maybe he is regretting what he has and hasn't done before and after all this hell happened…he just wants to forget it all, but it seems that wish is only a dream. He can only seem to recall one of his biggest mistakes: the day Lois Lane died.

Bruce remembers Superman's stunned look, how he couldn't believe he was the one to murder his own wife and unborn child. Bruce remembers the man fleeing after killing The Joker and not being seen for months…well, that was until the alien came storming in during almost a full year of being MIA and attacking Bruce during his family dinner. The man won't ever forget the absolute fear he felt when Super-Kal-El directed one of his laser beams at Jason's leg with the threat that if anyone moves he'll start killing them off one by one.

Bruce recalls his children wearily looking around before sitting down, his family trying to check up on Jason without pushing too many boundaries. He remembers his family watching nervously as Kal-El held him by his neck while blaming him for Lois's death, he-he remembers his family's horrified gasps when the man switched his bruising hold to the nape of his neck and pinned him down to the dining table, ripping his pants off and growling at his squirming.

Bruce remembers the shame he felt at his family having to witness the moment, at having to witness their father and son be slapped around like a doll before Kal-El manhandled him back onto the table and thrust his way inside his unwilling body-

"M-Master Bruce!?"

The man comes to with a confused blink and a couple hiccups, icy blue eyes look down to see red covering his palm and the wine glass he was holding shattered in his hand. Bruce finds an odd sense of pleasure in the pain and only digs the glass in harder, stopping when an aged hand shakily rests over his own. "I think we've had enough drinks for the day. Allow me to clean this."

Bruce frowns at the sad tone in Alfred's voice, why does the man sound so regretful? Nothing that is happening now or back then was his fault, so why?

The drunken man allows his faithful friend to clean him up, Bruce sighing and hiccuping at the same time while Alfred dutifully pulls out the glass. "T-The wine tastes bitter, Alfred. It says it's sweet but I only taste bitterness." Alfred hums softly, "Is…is that so sir?"

Bruce hums in response as well and nods, "Yes. Maybe my life is meant to be bitter…maybe that's why sweetness only tastes like pain? Maybe that's why I can't be happy, Alfie. I am destined to drink from the cup of bitterness all my life, t-that's why I fuck up so much." Alfred's breath hitches and he quickly finishes patching his son up…he doesn't know how to comfort the man, he feels like nothing he says will reach his master's ears, so the man just offers his drunken son a falsified brave smile and tugs the man up.

"How about we head to bed, yes? You need some rest."

XXX

Bruce lies in bed alone and cold…the windows aren't open and it's not even cold outside, but he feels so hollow and alone. The man silently curses his mind for imagining Kal-El's arms wrapping around him, he really doesn't want to be thinking about the man...but years of being used has taken an effect on Bruce. He can barely do anything without thinking of Kal-El.

Bruce hiccups and wraps his arms around himself, trembling in his bed at the tears that prick his eyes and threaten to fall, his fists clenching from the anger he feels at imagining the warmth he feels being that of Kal.

I-If he closes his eyes, Bruce can imagine that his partner's hold is affectionate and loving, not painful and full of hate. The worst part for Bruce besides his family being caught up in this is the fact how much his heart hurts, he ended up having a bit of a thing for Clark and his alter ego Superman, but he never crossed that line though, the way his friend looked at Lois could not be mistaken for anything else but love. And back when things were better...Clark looked at him lovingly too...maybe not in the way he did Lois, but the man's deep blue eyes held a fond gaze for Bruce despite how difficult he's been.

Bruce gasps suddenly when that warmth he imagined only gets stronger, if he continues to focus he can actually feel those strong arms wrapping around him gently.

Bruce opens his eyes though when a warm tongue licks up his face and wipes up the tears that he didn't even realize fell. Old instincts kick in and the ex-vigilante raises his hand to swing at whoever is behind him, a chuckle escaping his intruder as large hands pin his arm to his side. "I wouldn't suggest doing that." Kal-El's voice rumbles behind Bruce calmly, and boy does the shorter man hate the way his body-despite all it's protests-sinks into the solid form behind him.

"G-Get out."

Bruce whispers pitifully and stiffens when the man moves forward. Great. Now he's gone and made Kal mad because he can never keep his mouth shut. The super surprises him however when his muscular arms wrap around his waist, the alien nuzzling his nose into Bruce's neck to smell the anger, fear, desire and want that protrudes from the man's trembling form.

"Why should I? I already know that you are thinking of me. That you are desiring to be held like this, hm? There's no one else who would even want to do it, but I do, I've come to love you so much Bruce. When you don't fight you are such a good boy."

Bruce really does hate how he shivers with pleasure at being told he's good. Though he truly wants to scream and cry that he isn't good, that he's completely messed everything up because-if nothing else-his existence is a curse on the world and his family. But...he can't say anything, all he does is sigh contentedly when Kal pulls him closer to his solid form, the man slowly releasing Bruce's pinned arm with a smile at how obedient his little bitch is, despite the inner turmoil the man obediently keeps his arm down.

Kal hums, pleased by the display of obedience, the man leaning forward to kiss Bruce's neck gently. Nipping, biting and sucking every spot he's come to know makes Bruce melt into a puddle. It's not often he treats the billionaire this gently...but the man has been so stupidly pitiful as of late and Kal-El has decided he mind as well try and soothe the man.

He knows that Bruce is fighting within himself, he can only imagine what his eyes look like right now, flickering back and forth from the abundance of troubling thoughts in his mind. But Bruce isn't the only one thinking here, Kal-El is too, he is thinking about how well he's trained the man, his little bitch, so well.

Kal hums and places a gentle bite on Bruce's shoulder, his palm reaching down to spread itself across the smaller man's stomach to pull him in closer, until Bruce's ass is meeting with Kal's pelvis. Bruce whines at the gentleness, h-he knows it's only a means to distract him...but it's working, it always works. The loving caresses, the passionate touches and loving hold always makes Bruce's skin prickle with goosebumps, it always makes him think of-"Clark..."

Kal tenses behind Bruce at the name, the shorter snapping out of his thoughts at realizing he said that out loud, his form trembles with fear again at how everything has stopped. Bruce's voice is pleading as he apologizes, "Kal-El! I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, please, I-I won't do it again-I swear I'll be a good boy."

Bruce flinches and curls inwards when Kal sits up, his arms rise to cover his healing face (a punishment from the last time he made Kal-El mad) with trembling arms, unaware of the man's once angered look turning into something heated at seeing Bruce beg for mercy. He really has taught Bruce well, hasn't he? And the man isn't fighting as much as usual, and good behavior deserves a reward. Kal-El ignores the pleas and leans in to nip at Bruce's earlobe, "Shh. It's okay, I won't hurt you. You look so good like this, you look so right begging and not talking back to me...you look like mine."

Bruce gasps for air and makes a confused noise when large hands gently wipe his tears away, how those hands rub his head gently and lower his arms. "I want you to say that again."

Bruce slowly looks up at Kal with a fearful and confused look, "S-Say what?" Kal smiles and pulls the man closer to him, "That you'll be a good boy for me. Cause you are, you truly are. It's just that you still have that fire in you that shouldn't be there, that makes you ugly and I want you to see that so you can be beautiful. Don't you want to be beautiful for me?" Bruce just stares for a second...does he want to be beautiful for Kal-El? Something inside of him screams defiantly that this is a trick, that he's being abused, but that part of him that craves attention and is tired of this all gently whispers that he should just stop fighting it and become Kal-El's good boy forever. No arguments. Hopefully the hitting will stop and maybe he'll be allowed to see his children more once again.

Bruce blinks back to reality and slowly loosens his posture, it's okay, it's all going to be okay. He can come back from this anytime, it's alright to choose to let go this one time. Bruce leans closer to the waiting man, "I-I can be Kal-El's good boy. I am a...good boy."

Kal-El's smile can only be described as predatory and victorious, the man leaning in close to nip at Bruce's lip while his body thrums with excitement at getting the usually disobedient man right where he wants him...even if it's only for tonight. Bruce gasps at how passionate the kiss is, his body shakes with delight and nerves from how enjoyable the other is making this experience for him...is this what he'll get if he chooses to listen?

"You are such a a good boy. And good boy's deserve rewards, hm? What do you think you deserve, Bruce?"

Kal looks at Bruce expectantly, as if it's another test, and that makes the latter man nervous. To be honest, his first reply is almost nothing...he deserves nothing, but Kal-El is the one that holds his chain-he has the reigns and power here-so maybe he should say, "Whatever Kal-El thinks I deserve." Ice blue eyes watch the other's face closely to see if he has failed, but the man's pupils dilate in pleasure from the answer and Kal just releases a shaky breath.

"Exactly. Whatever I choose to give you is what you deserve-" Bruce's head is tilted up so he can look up at Kal who is now floating above him like he is a god-"I knew you weren't completely useless. Diana has been telling me there's no hope for you, but I see you Bruce, I know your potential to be good and do good." Kal holds Bruce's chin in his hand, his eyes taking in the man's body and every scar, bruise and cut placed upon it, he especially takes in all the ones he's personally placed on the other.

The more he stares the more he hardens from the thought that, despite all of Bruce's struggling before, the man never once tried sleeping with anyone else after Kal slept with him. And despite this twisted thing he has with the man, that primal part of him is soothed at knowing how Bruce stayed obedient and faithful to him in that area, he even listens in on the man and he doesn't touch himself either. Kal-El has utterly destroyed this man for anyone else and that makes him overjoyed.

Kal lowers himself back down to the bed and presses Bruce against the mattress while his hands work on undressing the compliant man. "You are mine, do you hear me!?" Bruce nods and gasps when the other rips his shirt off and bites his nipple warningly, "Say it. Say you're mine!" Bruce trembles at the fear he suddenly feals, but he quickly suppresses it and keeps his voice steady when replying. "I'm yours, Kal-El. I'm yours alone." The man sighs at Bruce's words and licks at the puckered nipple in apology for the rough treatment.

"You are mine, Bruce-" Kal growls out-"Mine to love, mine to hate, mine to cherish, mine to despise, mine to hold, mine to push away; mine to caress, mine to hit, mine to use, mine to not use." Each word is finished with a trail of kisses down Bruce's chest, the man stopping at Bruce's groin and looking up at him with a possessiveness the smaller has never seen before.

"You are mine to build up only to make you crash down again." With those words Bruce gasps as Kal-El wraps his lips around him, the pleasure drowning out the pain for this moment in time.

XXX

Bruce is still lying in bed...but this time he's not alone. The exhausted man looks over at Kal-El, the man wouldn't stop having sex for even a moment, so now Bruce feels sore and sticky...but at least he's loved.

Love. Love. Love...what is love truly? Bruce's breath hitches and he quickly glances over to make sure Kal didn't hear him, lucky him that the man seems to be in a deep sleep tonight. Bruce tries his best to stop the tears from pouring down his face, but he can't, he feels dirty on the outside as well as on the inside. He feels confused at how satisfied one part of his mind is but the other half is bitter at how all this is a lie, but mostly, mostly Bruce is tired.

He is tired of all the cycles of hate, love, confusion and hope only to be brought back to that lonely state. But what if that's just Kal-El's way of loving now? Bruce's mind suggests, and a part of him hisses that it's a shit way of showing love...but that other defensive, unbelieving side of him argued back that it's not. He truly doesn't want to believe that this man he once knew has turned into...whatever he is now-a monster-that defiant part of him shouts.

The worst thing is that despite being warmed up he still feels cold. Yes he can feel that outer warmth...but on the inside he feels cold and alone a-and a hollow shell of who he once was. Bruce wraps his arms around himself again to hopefully warm himself up, to reassure himself that if no one else, he at least still has himself...right?

But I guess it doesn't matter. His cup of sweetness is destined to overflow with bitterness instead.

(I have been really wanting to write something about an evil Superman...I don't know why or how I went this route 😭. This Superman is such a jerk, I hate him so much! But if anyone reads this, you are appreciated! Whether you like it or not-but seriously, I don't know what was wrong with me while writing this...I feel so bad for Bruce 😢.

But just in case you couldn't tell, it is implied (more like hinted I guess) at one point that Kal is keeping Bruce away from his children. He only really allows Alfred to come see Bruce only to feed him and tend to any wounds, and the Kryptonite most likely was cleared out by Diana and the others who joined Kal-El after the dining room incident.

Also, the only reason Bruce's kids haven't tried to do anything yet is in fear of their dad getting killed or one another being harmed. Plus, Bruce probably begged them not to do anything to wild (especially Jason and Damian) which also probably shook them up a lot seeing their dad so afraid. And yes they are still close in this universe...I can't write bad dad's I guess? I have a great one myself so I feel it's a crime to write a horrible father 😂.

You lovelies please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

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