#okay okay there's a little shame but im ignoring it bc im better than that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haespoir · 11 months

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everytime: jjh, mkl.

⨯ pairing: situationship!jaehyun, situationship!mark, reader

⨯ word count: 2.4k

⨯ summary: going back to jaehyun felt natural. a single call from him had you running back. but with enough encouragement, your friends are able to convince you to pursue other people. god, you hated dating in 2023. what the fuck was a situationship anyways?

⨯ warnings: jaehyun loses lol, mentions of drugs (weed) and alcohol, some suggestive content but that’s about it, gn!reader but i used good girl once bc i felt legally obligated im sorry.

⨯ playlist: breathin, ariana grande / everytime, ariana grande / feather, sabrina carpenter

⨯ extra content: texts between reader n mark, jaehyun pov, mark pov

⨯ a/n: i’m going to blame it on the copious amounts of caffeine in my system, so if you see any errors, please ignore it! i definitely have more in mind for this pair, so the chance of this becoming a mini series is possible. i just have adhd and i’m jobless atm so my attention is going everywhere

. . .

Somehow you’ve found yourself once again wrapped in Jaehyun’s embrace; the warmth of his body making you overheat under his blanket. It’s like he’s everywhere. You couldn’t escape his scent even if you wanted to. And it’s not like you wanted to anyways. It had been at least 3 months of whatever you and Jaehyun had going on. Was it friends with benefits? Were you guys exclusive? This was a question that neither of you could answer.

Though if you were cornered into answering it, you knew the answer would be one that only broke your heart. You were his; there wasn’t anyone that you wanted more than Jaehyun. But he was not yours. You knew that he flirted openly with the girls on campus. You had been blown off by him numerous times so he could spend his time with other girls all the time. As long as you were able to hold Jaehyun at night, in your little corner of the universe, you thought it would be okay.

However, that was not the case when his ex-girlfriend came back into the picture. It felt impossible to even get a grip on the male. Even if you knew you had spent the night with him, she would have him again by the time he woke up.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you untangle yourself from his sleeping form, ignoring the way he groans and tries to pull you back into his bed. Your resolve would crumble if he was able to get you back into that bed, and you knew this to be a fact. Once your clothes are back on, you feel the shame settle in your bones. How many times was this going to happen? Did you have any self-respect?

Too many times, by the way. It happened way too many times. The same damn thing. He wouldn’t contact you all day, not until he had the tiniest amount of weed in his system. And then your phone was blowing up.

“Where you are?”

“I need you.”

“I’d give it all just to kiss you right now.”

“Sorry, it won’t happen again. I’ll treat you better.”

“This time I won’t break your heart. I swear.”

How many excuses were you going to let slide by? Each time he did the same thing. It did happen again; he didn’t treat you better. He definitely broke your heart, each and every time. But this time it’s different, not because of Jaehyun though. You’re usually able to escape the apartment before any of his roommates wake up, not this time. This time Mark Lee is seated at the island, a donut and two coffees spread out in front of him. He gives you a shy smile, gesturing to the breakfast. “I got you a donut and coffee when I was out this morning.”

The gesture has your eyes glossy almost instantly, tears threatening to spill over. Jiwon would snort at your behavior. The bar was really in hell, wasn’t it? “Thanks. You didn’t have to,” you say quietly, standing next to his sitting figure.

“I wanted to.” And you can tell he’s being honest. It was no secret that Mark harbored a crush on you; and while you adored the male, you were so stupidly into Jaehyun that you didn’t have it in you to entertain Mark’s advances. You could break your own heart, but you sure as hell weren’t breaking his.

“You don’t have to stay; I know you usually don’t.” His words make you feel even more pathetic, even if you know he doesn’t mean any harm. You thought you were sneaky after leaving the next morning, but Mark knew. He always seemed to know.

So when you get home and Mark’s name lights up on your screen, you swear you won’t fall into Jaehyun’s trap again.

mark [8:30am]: home safe?

you [8:33am]: yea

you [8:33am]: thanks

mark [8:33am]: any time

“It’s like Dua Lipa said,” Jiwon says one night, “If you’re under him, you’re not getting over him.” Her words are met with a pillow to the face and a roll of your eyes, but you know she’s right. It had been 2 weeks, almost half a month, since the last time you had slept with Jaehyun. But practice makes perfect, and when you’re drunk, you have no business practicing anything.

So when you wake up in Jaehyun’s bed, it feels horrible. Even more so when Mark isn’t there with coffee and a sweet treat to make you feel better about your bad decision. And what a bad decision it was.

Because suddenly you’re stuck in the same trap again. Jaehyun’s got you in his sticky grasp, yet he’s always slipping through your fingers when you think you have him. It was unfair. Everyone around you told you this.

“He doesn’t care. Just drop him.”

But you cared.

“You deserve better.”

You didn’t want better; you wanted Jaehyun.

“Stop doing this to yourself.”

You couldn’t stop.

“I love you, but this has gone on way too long. I’m coming over, and we’re going out.”

Now this was something you could do. What was meant to be a girl’s night out, quickly turned into you nearly begging your friends to let Jaehyun to go. But fate seemed to be on the side of your girl’s tonight, Jaehyun’s voice blaring from the speakers on your phone as he tells you he can’t make it.

“Are you seriously not coming, Jae?” He can hear the irritation in your voice, and while he wishes he could say something that would soothe the flame that lights in your heart, he can’t. The sigh he lets out is all you need to hear before you’re spitting out quick profanities and ending the call.

Your friends are met with a blank stare; you were always so different when Jaehyun wasn’t there. It was like the male held your happiness in his hands, and they absolutely hated it. So many times they had sat you down and begged for you to end things with the male. You were on the back burner ever since his ex walked back into the picture, but when he called you high, you were crawling right back.

“You can’t keep going back to him,” Jiwon states, the only friend there brave enough to break the silence. “It’s getting ridiculous at this point. It’s the third time he’s flaked to hang out with her.”

It hurts so bad to know that it’s true. You had given the male multiple chances to hang out with you and your friends this week. And each time he let you down. With a small sigh, you slouch into the arms of your friends. If you couldn’t be in Jaehyun’s arms, this was the next best place to be.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Jiwon says, passing you a red solo cup that you assume is filled with some sort of concoction of soju and juice. “We’re going to pregame, and then when we get to the party, you’re finally giving Mark a chance.” The pointed look she gives you is one you know you can’t argue with. Even if there’s nothing more you’d rather do than lay in bed and wallow in your self-pity, you know your friends want the best for you. And so you do exactly as Jiwon says.

The second you arrive at the party, Mark’s arm is around your waist. It’s impossible to fight the permanent blush that dances across your cheeks at the way he treats you. He’s so sweet, so incredibly sweet that you feel the cavities forming after you’ve pressed multiple short kisses on his lips.

You’ve almost nearly forgotten your relationship with Jaehyun if you could even call it that. It’s not until you hear his laugh, his ex’s laugh echoing just as loud in your mind. Of course, he was here. It was Johnny’s party. He had to be here. He just couldn’t be here with you. It washes the sweetness of Mark out of your mouth, and suddenly you feel yourself on the brink of tears.

As if he can feel the tsunami of emotions you’re feeling, Mark presses another sweet kiss on the corner of your lips. “Breathe.” When you look up at him with glossy eyes, he gently squeezes your hip. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” And for some reason, you trust everything he says. Which is why Jaehyun’s forced to watch as you slip out of the house, one of his best friend’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

And that’s how you find yourself propped up on the hood of Mark’s car in an empty parking lot, a large fry shared between the two of you. You had also gotten a large soda, but Mark had forfeited the drink to you quickly, happy to see you sobering up.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What for?”

“For a lot,” you start, thinking about all the times you pretended to not notice the way Mark hovered around you, his eyes seemingly always on you. “But mainly for crying. Ruined the vibe, no?”

Mark laughs at your words, and it squeezes your heart. You had always loved his laugh; it was just so… Mark. You think to yourself that there was nothing you wouldn’t do to hear his laugh. “Don’t apologize. You know I’m always in your court.” There’s a boyish smile on his lips as he speaks, unable to look you in the eye.

You swear your heart is melting. He had always been like this. Firm in his attraction, but always too shy to make a move. So you make the move for him. After a series of brief kisses, the two of you settle down, and time seems to fly with Mark. You guys watch the sunrise from the hood of his car, a spare blanket from his trunk wrapped tightly around the two of you. You had talked for hours, about anything and everything. It felt so natural being with him, nothing like Jaehyun. When he drops you off at home, you’re pressing a soft kiss to his lips. One that leaves him chasing your lips for a second. And a third. He returns home with a promise that you’ll give him a chance, him and only him.

So you can’t blame him when he sends Jaehyun a cheeky text, the lyrics of the song you sang at the top of your lungs on the way home fresh on his mind.

mark [8:20am]: i’m so sorry for your loss bro

Jaehyun doesn’t understand the text for a while. When he doesn’t hear from you for the next two weeks, he thinks it’s just like before. You just need your space, and then you’ll come crawling back. Just like you always do. You understood Jaehyun better than anyone; you never left him for long. He loved that about you.

It’s Tuesday when he finally hears you again. Quickly, he rushes out of his room only to freeze in shock when he sees you under Mark’s arm on the couch. There was no fucking way you had left him for Mark Lee. You were his; you always had been. Mark fucking Lee had no right to have his arm slung over you like that. Not on the same couch where he had spent hours kissing you. “What is this?” he asks, doing his best to not explode on the spot.

“Huh,” you ask, turning to look at him, “that’s our leftovers. You can have some.” You act like he’s talking about the white boxes the two of you had left on the counter. You know that’s not what he means though. But Mark had taken you out on a date this morning, something Jaehyun had never done. The two of you usually went back to your place to avoid running into Jaehyun, but Jiwon had claimed ownership of the apartment for just one day. Something along the lines of the sight of you and Mark making her lovesick. You had rolled your eyes at her dramatics but granted her wish nonetheless.

“Good girl,” Mark whispers against your neck, pressing small kisses along the area. It was a message of encouragement only for your ears, and it was one that had heat spreading across your face. If there was one thing Mark asked of you when you first started talking, it was honesty. So you were honest. You had spent hours in his arms crying about how you loved Jaehyun, and how you felt so guilty towards him. And Mark did his best to comfort you. He always reminded you that he was there; he would teach you how to love him as you loved Jaehyun. Even better, he made sure you loved yourself.

You had no idea how it made Mark feel, seeing you blatantly disregard your past fling as if he meant nothing to you. While he felt bad for Jaehyun, he meant it when he said he felt sorry for Jaehyun’s loss. Being with you was everything that he imagined and more. His heart was full, and he wasn’t going to let Jaehyun rain on his parade.

“Yea, there’s a burger and some fries,” he says offhandedly, sliding off the couch and pulling you with him toward his room. “Enjoy.”

Once the two of you are behind his doors, you burst into a fit of giggles. Whatever confidence Mark had seemed to seep into you as you pulled him into your arms and onto his bed. “You know, he’s probably livid,” you say, carding your fingers through his hair.

“He has no right to be,” Mark scoffs, thinking about the numerous times he had seen you heartbroken over Jaehyun, “we’ll just call it his karma.”

“I feel bad though.”

He nips at the skin on your jaw, the grip he has on your waist tightening. “You’re seriously thinking about another man in my bed? Am I not good enough?” He shifts so that you’re under him, his arms caging you in.

The pout on your lips is absolutely adorable, and Mark swears it takes every fiber of his being to not devour you on the spot. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’ll help you forget about him.” His body is on top of yours, his mouth busy on your neck once again.

“Promise?” your voice almost gives out on you when he begins to nip and lick at the tender skin.

“Promise, babe.”

#guys im losing my mind if i wasnt hyped on caffeine this would be longer #but i am already thinking about fwb jaemin LOL #im also scared of writing big pieces so like... babysteps #mark #jaehyun #nct fic #mark fic #jaehyun fic #mark fluff #mark angst #jaehyun angst #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct 127 fic #nct dream fic #wtf do i tag idk

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maedaex2combo · 2 years

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Y/N: Self-Insert yourself into the Homestuck Epilogues

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Pairings: Dirk Strider x Reader (Mostly platonic / One sided)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, Angst, Homestuck Epilogues plot

Word Count: 10.4k

Summary: After not hearing from your best friend Dirk for a while, you decide to go check in on him. For some reason, you feel like this isn't going to be the same feels-jam talk you two normally have. The air is different. Something is happening.

A/N: Okay first off, please know that this story is based directly on the plot of the Homestuck Epilogues. It’s supposed to be right before the Candy/Meat timelines split and take place. I know it’s literally in the title, but just to be safe bc I know how some people feel about it. Secondly, I project a lot to write my fics so the backstory about Y/Ns feelings for Karkat and Dave are very self-indulged. Accidentally became kinda important to the plot. My bad. Thirdly, please forgive me if Dirk seems out of character at all. This is just how I felt he would’ve been before he became like the ultimate Dirk or whatever tf goes on in the epilogues 💀. Anyways. Again, tread lightly if heavy topics like suicide are triggering for you. It gets kind of intense. I just felt like this boy needed some comforting when I was reading all those chapters. OKAY IM DONE NOW. Enjoy!!!

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“DIRK!” your voice shouts pointlessly at the closed metal door in front of you, for the umpteenth time. You’re banging at the door unapologetically, like you have no shame, which you don’t at this point. Not when it came to your best friend, and trying to get him out of his self-inflicted depressive/dissociative episodes.

This episode in particular had been especially hard to get him out of. Dirk had a habit of shutting his friends out when he got to feeling a certain way, and not even letting them in when they came to check on him in person. He seemed to have a soft spot for certain people, but even they couldn’t always get through to him. You included, as well as Jake, Jane, Roxy, and Dave. But, usually you were more invasive and better at tearing his walls down when he built them up. The amount of times you pried your way into listening to a Jake or self-villainizing related rant from Dirk, WILLINGLY, was impressive at this point. Lets be real, Dirk doesn’t open up about his feelings on the usual. All raw and feels-jam like, like your other friends do.

In summary though, his little shut-in episodes did little to keep you out of his life.

However, he hasn’t been answering your messages for weeks, actually maybe a month now. You haven’t been good at keeping track at this point. He doesn’t ever ignore everyone for this long, especially you. Now that you’re here, and he’s not answering the door, it’s honestly starting to worry you. What could he be doing??? Is he even home? There’s no way he could be…..

Nah.

He’s just in there being all dreary right now, you know it.

“DIRK OPEN THE DAMN DOOR OR ILL FIND A WAY IN. YOU KNOW I WILL!” You continue banging on heavy metal. You can hear it echo into the chamber behind it, assumingely empty unless Dirk is a literal fucking dickhead. Which he is. But you give him the benefit of the doubt. Looks like you’ll have to find a way in.

This is really annoying. More than usual. Of course, you don’t ever mind putting this much effort into Dirk. He’s someone you care about very much, so this type of thing just works like clockwork for you. You have a desire to be there for Dirk in a way you feel he needs someone to be. It’s probably inconvenient for him most times, but you try to ignore that intrusive thought.

Right now though, this is especially annoying because you’ve been trying to contact Dirk for weeks about your own personal issues. It’s always a back and forth of issue-sharing with you two, as friendships should be. But honestly, your life isn’t super eventful, not as much as Dirks somehow. So, you don’t usually have all that much to rant about. Now, the one time your life feels like it’s going to shit and you REALLY need him, he decides to swan dive straight into a pool of “fuck everyone, especially (y/n)” and dissolve into it like a damn spoonful of salt.

That analogy was awful, you can’t even come up with clever things anymore, your head is so disoriented. You launch up into the air with little to no grace at all, so fast that you forgot about the metal hood hovering over the front of the studio and smash your head right into it. Fucking OW.

You’re silent for a moment, absorbing the pain like when you stub your toe and you just stand in shock for a minute straight. Then, after a due moment of silence, you let out a loud aggravated groan of pain and annoyance.

“UUUUAGGHHHHUGHH!!!”

Yeah that’s basically how it would be spelt out, I guess.

Using all the annoyed force your body can muster, god powers and all, you punch through the orange-tinted window in front of you. Not physically, with your hands, but with a sheer force wave of strength you just pushed out upon throwing your fists out and down in front of you as you yelled out. The window cracks and shatters, the whole action being very anime-like.

Wow.

That was kinda a lot. Maybe chill out for a second? I mean, you’ve been known to do some pretty crazy and powerful stuff back in your Sburb days, fighting enemies and all. But there was no reason to unleash that on Dirks poor window. You know he’s gonna have to reinstall that now, and it probably won’t be of glass this time.

Nonetheless, you float inside, accidentally cutting yourself on a shard still intact in the window frame. You hiss a little at the cut, but it doesn’t stop you. You’re back to being set on finding Dirk.

It doesn’t take long to find him, of course. You enter the largest room in his studio down on the first floor, down a long hallway, basically the center of his place. This is where he keeps most of his materials and works. It could basically be a big high-ceiling living room, and you’re pretty sure it was once decorated like one, but now it’s covered in metal, tools, junk, etc. You find him drilling away at whatever’s in front of him, back turned to you.

You casually float down from the balcony above, most of the frantic anger from earlier out of your system now that you’ve found him. And he’s okay.

“Yo. Did you hear me banging at the door or are you deaf now?” You say, half joking, but also a little genuinely.

He doesn’t look at you when he responds, ever focused on his work. He stops drilling to be able to talk at normal volume, and to switch to another tool. “Of course I did. You’re quite loud, I don’t know if you noticed.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, okay. Just wanted to confirm you are as much of an asshole as I assumed you were.” You’re still hovering an inch above the ground as you glide over to face the front of him.

“Oh please, you’ve been very aware of my asshole-ness long before you even met me face to face.”

You laugh a little at this. It’s true, in a way. Even before you knew this timelines version of Dirk, Dave would always rant to you about his Bro. So you assumed he would be an asshole way before you even really met who you’re looking at right now.

“You’re right. But how do you know that by ‘assumed’, I meant that in recent tense and not one that dated back to my pre-teen years?” You shoot back.

You know he would usually like your comment, but he doesn’t laugh or react much at all.

You frown, because he’d normally have a witty comeback to a stupid question like that. But the conversation seems to have cut off there, when he doesn’t reply for a while and continues operating. It stays like this for a bit, slightly-uncomfortable silence as you stare down at him and he doesn’t look back. You finally slump down, into a criss-cross sitting position in front of him while he works. You stay this way, the only sound echoing the room being made from the burning metal, and you wait for him to be done with this piece before you nudge into his personal life. It’s the respectful thing to do, you know how serious he is about his mechanic works. Whatever he’s doing is probably of some type of importance.

You watch him carefully use a… a uh…. Damn what is that thing called? That little fire-like tool that’s used for welding? A welder? I don’t know and I can’t be fucked to search the internet for it. You know what I mean. He’s sweating just slightly on his freckle-spotted arms from the heat, and you try not to linger on his mussels for too long as you examine him right now. He’s wearing his wielding mask, unfortunately, so you can’t see his face. The eye part is shaped like his shades, and you can’t imagine how that’s practical at all. What a dork. But not like John Egbert adorable-like dork. Dirks a dork in a cool admirable way. It’s hard to explain.

Another while goes by like this, shrouded in a more comfortable silence this time. You don’t look at him the entire time you wait, eventually you find yourself staring off into hallway behind him, chin in your hands.

If you (the reader) haven’t picked it up by now, you obviously have a thing for Dirk. But you try not to acknowledge it most of the time, and you’re pretty sure no one knows about it. It kinda conflicts with your feelings you’ve had for Dave since you met him, and your feelings for Karkat you developed not long after spending time together on the meteor. It’d be weird to like Dave and his bro right? This bro, not his actual timeline bro obviously. Yeah, it’d be strange. You must have a thing for the Striders, you guess. But you try to push it into the back of your mind as often as possible. Dirks just your good friend, he’ll always be a friend to you. You want to be there for him because you care in a PLATONIC way. Of course. Even if you did acknowledge these feelings and act on them, he’d most definitely turn you down for various reasons. You know him too well. This is how the last 7 years have panned out, and it was only a few years ago that you even came to acknowledge your feelings that I just said we’re choosing not to acknowledge.

Moving on.

“I’m assuming you broke one of my windows to get in. Do I have to go and fix that now?” He says, toneless. You cant even tell if he’s really upset.

“How’d you know?” You ask innocently.

“Aside from it being the most obvious way of breaking in besides picking my lock, which would be impossible. Remember when I said you’re loud?”

You giggle a little. Yeah you guess theres no way he couldn’t have heard you, even though it was up on the second floor, down the hall. “Okay yeah, I totally busted your window, dude. Sorry about that. It was a mistake honestly, but you kinda deserved it for blatantly ignoring me!”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just busy.”

“Dirk. Busy with what? You haven’t answered me in like a month.” The conversation suddenly gets pretty confrontational without you meaning to make it so.

“I haven’t? Doesn’t feel like it’s been that long.”

“Well it has.” You cross your arms, looking up at him “I really needed to talk to you! And I was really worried.”

“Why would you be worried?”

You frown at this, again. You’re not exactly sure what you were worried about. There were some specific worries that you wouldn’t say to him out loud, that come with having any friend as depressed as Dirk tends to be. They didn’t have to make sense, but they were always at the back of your mind.

“I don’t know. I just worry when you don’t answer for a while. You’ve never gone that long without texting me or calling me back.”

At this very real statement, Dirk doesn’t respond. He probably doesn’t know how to at first. Then, he pulls off his helmet, revealing his pretty face to you once again. You almost let out a sigh of relief. You just really love to look at this guy. His shades are on still, having worn them under the mask like a DORK.

“Well, I’m totally fine so there’s nothing to worry about. Okay?” This is his best attempt at comforting you right now. You’re still not impressed.

“I can see that now. But it would’ve been nice to know like a week or two ago.” You would look away to reinforce that you’re upset, but you can’t stop looking at him, while he’s assumingely making eye contact with you behind his shades. You’re trying your hardest to push back thoughts again.

He finally looks away and pushes himself up to stand, walking over to the pile of metal on the couch. “Hey don’t go getting all sentimental with me now. Starting to sound like Jake.” His voice feels off from how he normally talks, like he’s hollowly trying to say something he thinks he would say. “He’s actually been breathing down my neck all week, I’ve thought about blocking him at this point.”

You roll your eyes x2 combo. That last sentence definitely sounded like him, it’s one you’ve heard a million times. He never does it. This is good though, you can segway this into getting him to open up.

“Jake, huh? You’re still talking to him? Didn’t you say you’d cut him off like- a million cut-offs ago?”

“Yeah.” He picks the piece of metal up off the couch, knocking a few pieces next to it over onto the floor. “But I could never actually cut him off completely, you know that. With all the arrangements we have and whatever. I just meant for a little while so maybe I could get a fucking second to breathe.”

You nod. Fair enough, you guess. You still think it’s funny how much the tables have turned with them. Since Dirk used to tell you how he was the clingy one back when Sburb was still active. “How come he’s still bothering you so much? I thought he had gotten pretty distant from you in an attempt to get over you or something?”

“I mean yeah he was like that, but lately our show’s been getting even more popular. Plus, with Jane’s upcoming announcement about the presidency, I’ve been trying to add more elements to amp up his popularity.”

You didn’t even think you could make Jake anymore popular than he already was on earth C, and you already knew of Janes presidency plan thing. Dirk told you a while ago, and you’ve tried so. SO hard not to tell Dave and Karkat yet, per Dirks request. “So why does this make him bother you more?”

“I made him pretty ambitious about the new season. He’s got all these ideas and plans he’s been shooting at me. Haven’t been responding obviously, which makes him bug me more.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you don’t talk to your friends for long periods of time, Dirk. The messages start to pile up. I wouldn’t call that ‘bugging’. He’s probably been messaging you a normal amount, and you’re just behind on responding.”

“No no, you’re not friends with Jake like I am. Trust me. He has been giving an absolute fucking earful to me in text. Assuming there was an ear actually listening, and a mouth replying.”

“You’re not even reading the messages?”

“No.”

“What if it’s important?”

“I would know if it was anything that important, trust me.”

You sigh and lean back on your hands. Your arm stings a little and you suddenly remember the cut on your shoulder that you never tended to. Dirk didn’t even notice. Something inside you feels disappointed for some reason. “You’re really full of yourself, yknow that?”

“Yeah, I know.” His response is quick, without hesitation. You know he does. He self-loathes about it at least once every time you guys talk.

“I just wish you’d at least shoot me a text before you disappear for weeks being like ‘Hey! just so you know, I’m about to fuck off to not exist for a while! Don’t worry im not dead or anything!’”

“I’ll make sure to do that next time.” He says sarcastically, coming back over to where he was sitting to add the new piece of metal to his project.

You groan, it almost feels like a growl. That makes you think about Jade. You groan again. “Can you just tell me what’s going on? This obviously isn’t like your other episodes which don’t really happen for more than maybe like a week at a time.”

“We’re calling them ‘episodes’ now?” He asks, looking over at you, but still keeping his hands busy. You swear you can see him smirk a little.

“Well, that’s what I call them. Sorry. That’s probably rude, I just don’t know how else to describe when you get like this.”

“Like what?”

“Reclusive? Distant? I’m assuming you haven’t been in contact with anyone this whole time.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s not a big deal though, you guys all have lives to be living, I don’t have to be out there all the time.”

“Out there? Dirk, sometimes I just want to talk to my friend. You can stay all shut in your studio, but the least you could do is answer me via text???”

He’s back at work, mask down, attention to his project now. But you weren’t done yet.

“Dirk.”

He doesn’t answer. He’s avoiding the conversation so you don’t investigate further. Again, this is clockwork.

“Dirk.” You insist again, standing up now.

The cut on your shoulder is bleeding down the side of your arm now. “Can you please just tell me what’s wrong this time. Even if there’s nothing going on, you know that just talking it out DOES actually make you feel better. And I LIKE listening to you talk.”

He flinches a little at this, stoping his wielding for a second, but not any longer. He goes back to ignoring you.

You sigh. This is probably going to take a while. You start to walk down the hall towards the bathroom to find a bandaid and clean up the blood.

When you’re far enough away, Dirk looks back in your direction, thinking that maybe you were leaving. A twinge of guilt flickers quickly in him, but he ignores it again and turns back to his project.

When you come back, you feel a bit refreshed. You had time to clear your head slightly. You decided that if he’s going to ignore you, you’re just going to wait until he HAS to talk to you. He can’t let it be silent forever, and you’re not leaving until he gets something out. Not like you’ve got anything better to do.

You move past him silently and over to what you’re pretty sure is a nice recliner chair, under all the cloth and metal. You start taking the metal off and placing it aside. This catches his attention, and he almost asks what the hell you’re doing, until he realizes what the hell you’re doing, and decides it’s not worth starting up a conversation again.

Once all the metals shards are off the chair, you dust it off with your hands and take a seat. You just stare at him for a bit. When that soon gets boring, you lean back into the chair with a sigh, closing your eyes. Maybe you’ll take a nap.

It’s silent (aside from the wielding) for so long that you really do start falling into sleep. The sounds of him working were lulling you into relaxation for some odd reason. You can feel your consciousness just about to be pulled from under you when-

“So… what was it you needed to talk to me about?” Dirk asks from across the room. You hadn’t noticed he stopped working for a bit. The sound of his voice snapped your eyes open for a moment, but when you see he’s not even looking at you, you go right back to closing them.

“I just needed to rant about some stuff, maybe get some advice. But I don’t really think I should be having that conversation with you right now. It seems like you probably got your own stuff to sort out.”

Dirk shrugs, but you can’t see anyways. “Not really. I mean, kind of. But you came here to see me, you might as well tell me instead of leaving this awkward silence while I work.”

“I didn’t think it was awkward. But I didn’t come here to rant to you, I came here because I was worried.”

“Okay, sure, whatever. But you might as well tell me now that you’re here. I don’t mind.”

You sigh. Should you really start this conversation? Would it be selfish to dump all your bullshit on your friend when he’s clearly going through it, even though he won’t talk about it? But he is asking for it at this point. You didn’t even bring it up.

“Well?” He’s looking over at you when you open your eyes again. How long has he been looking?

You sigh again. “Alright… I’ll try not to drag it out too much.”

“Are you sure you’re capable of that type of self control?” He asks sarcastically.

“Oh, shut up.” you say, but you’re smiling. This man and his smartass. “Alright, well-“

And your rant begins. I’ll explain what the rant is about because I don’t want to have to type ours and dirks every action out throughout the whole length of this long conversation. You can just assume he’s listening intently, because he is, for the most part.

Overall, life on Earth C hasn’t really been all that great for anyone as of lately, that’s a given. It’s perfect here, sure, but perfect can only be perfect for so long, before it gets extremely boring. This is amplified x1000000 when you add in the fact that most of you are immortal. Forever is a long long time. However, on a more personal level, there’s a lot going on.

First of all, you’ve lived with Dave and Karkat since you got here. The three of you were best buddies on the meteor together, and decided to stick together after, even despite plenty of money to get your own places. You feel you kind of dug yourself into a hole with this one. Because while living with your best friends is so fun, you’re also not an idiot. You and everyone else on the planet can see the thing Karkat and Dave have for each other. And the fact that you have a crush on both of them, makes this not only awkward, but also painful. This whole situation isn’t new though. In fact, Dirks heard an earful about it for several years. The first year or so of living with them was great, then it backfired. You took it upon yourself to go on a lot of trips, some with Jade and Jake, some alone. You started getting into pottery and went around selling pieces, random art experiments. You tried to convince your two antisocial roomates to go sometimes, but you’re kinda glad they didn’t. You probably needed the distance. Eventually you moved out, only about a little over a year ago. You felt almost guilty, like your presence was keeping the two of them from being together (That definitely wasn’t it though, as Dirk reassures you. They’re both just dense and stubborn.)

For the past year you’ve struggled with separation issues. Everyone knows you always liked to be with someone all the time. Though your trips alone were freeing and refreshing, you enjoyed the feeling of coming home to someone, or two someones. It hurt, spending the nights in your big empty home, lovely as it was. You had people over plenty, but it was always the nighttime when everyone left that got to you. You developed insomnia, dark circles under your eyes that won’t go away. This isn’t really new news either, but newer than the last.

The CURRENT issue at hand, now that we have background story, is where Jade comes into the mix. Jade is a lovely girl, and you love her to death. The two of you hang out on many occasions, though you may not be as close with her as with others. You enjoyed her energy and attitude, it was contagious. But lately, she’s been… putting herself very closely into Dave and Karkats lives. Not that she wasn’t already around them a lot, she definitely was over pretty often. But it seems like ever since you left, she’s been there basically 24/7, like she lives there now. Not only that, but the boys have told you how she’s been making uncomfortable advances towards them, and isn’t hiding how she would like to be with the both of them seriously. Now… it’s not necessarily that you’re jealous. (Dirk gets a kick out at this. And by a kick I mean letting out a snort and ALMOST breaking into a chuckle, to your momentary annoyance.) But it’s especially frustrating for many reasons. Putting aside the obvious reason that you have the same feelings for them as she does. She’s basically ruining everything you gave up to try and help DaveKat happen. You moved yourself out of the equation to make room for maybe some progress, and she moved right in after you. They both love Jade as a friend, but you can tell that her advances make them uneasy just from the couple times you’ve witnessed it. You’re afraid she’ll ruin it for them.

“So, you’re definitely not jealous?” Dirk asks, obviously being sarcastic.

“Of course I am. I won’t deny it. I’m just saying it’s not the ONLY reason I’m upset about it.” You respond defensively.

“Okay. I mean, that makes sense. But I think you’re mostly just upset with yourself.”

You’re open your mouth to retort, but you stay quiet for a moment. “…You think?”

“Yeah. To me, it sounds like you’re mad at yourself because leaving them caused you to self sabotage into a life you’re not satisfied with. And now Jade is over there going after what she wants and you’re upset you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same.”

You’re a little offended by the accuracy of his blunt words. There are some things you need to defend though. “Okay well, maybe you’re somewhat right-“

“Somewhat?”

“-BUT, I only didn’t go for it because I knew they didn’t feel the same, and I didn’t wanna ruin our friendship. Or worse, their relationship.”

“How do you know they didn’t feel the same?”

……

How did you know?

“Well… I just thought it was pretty obvious. They just don’t act with me how they act with each other. You can just like… feel the different energy, I guess.”

“But how would you know for sure if you never even went for it?”

Silence again.

“…I don’t know…” you shuffle awkwardly in the chair, looking down at your lap and playing with your hands. “…So you think I should’ve done what Jade is doing?”

“Oh, definitely not.” He responds almost immediately. “She’s definitely gonna fuck their shit up.”

Your head shoots up at this, shocked. “WHAT?! But you were just saying that I should have gone for it!”

“Yes. But honestly I think you would have gone about it in a less uncomfortable way. And even if they did turn you down, or like- weirdly wiggle out of the situation like they do. Then at least you’d have a straight answer. But you didn’t ever bother trying at all.”

“I-“

“-AND furthermore, I think that if you had gotten a straight answer, it would’ve given you the closure you need, and you wouldn’t have to keep trying like Jade seems to be set on doing.”

It hits you now. You don’t know why you’ve never thought about it like this. You always just assumed their feelings. Even if you had confessed to them one time, you could’ve gotten that closure you didn’t realize you needed. Now it’s too late. They’ve already got too much tension on their relationship, adding you in the mix would be chaos. This is suddenly very troubling, you’re starting to get into a depressed state of mind again. The one you’ve been stuck in for weeks, as well as Dirk probably has for reasons still unknown.

“I….” You relax your hands in your lap, and lean back to look up at the ceiling. “You’re right. I should have at least tried.”

“Didn’t I tell you to a ton of times before? I always thought that a sincere heartfelt confession from you might actually help push their relationship forward, even if they didn’t reciprocate.”

“Yeah… I just never wanted to. I was so sure they’d be repulsed at the idea.”

“Ouch. Repulsed? That’s a new word for the situation.”

“Yeah, I guess I always felt like that deep down though. I mean, Karkats super harsh and distant. And Dave’s super aloof and distant. So, being vulnerable about your feelings for them just feels… extra vulnerable.”

“Yeah. It definitely wouldn’t be an easy relationship to navigate. Honestly maybe you did yourself a favor.”

You sigh at this. It certainly doesn’t feel that way.

It goes silent again for a little bit, but this time neither of you find any discomfort in it. Dirks been working still, but doing something more quiet now. Connecting wires or something probably. You’re not really sure what it is he does.

You remember something he said to you several sentences ago.

“Also… earlier you said… that I caused a life that I’m unhappy with…” you speak, sounding more dejected that you have today.

“Mhm.”

“Well. I don’t think that’s true.”

“No?”

“No, not really. I mean, yeah it definitely caused me some additional problems, sure. But Dirk…” you look down to make eye contact with him. He stops to look back at you, from behind the shades. He’s resting his arms on his knees, face stoic, fully listening.

“I don’t think… I’ve been happy with my life.. in a long time.”

The sentence hits Dirk harder than maybe it should’ve normally, almost as if breaking something down. His face finally changes, from just being a stone-cold expression, to a slight frown, his features relaxed. It’s not an expression of pity, really. He’s sympathizing.

Most everyone of the sburb kids probably feel this way. Things are just not as great as you might have though they’d be at the beginning of starting an entirely new universe. There’s just this terrible lingering empty feeling, that no one really talks about out loud. But it feels different hearing it from you. You always tried to be a little optimistic. You’ve been unhappy many times, that’s just normal human emotions. But you’ve never expressed being unhappy… with your life as a whole? Or accidentally admitted that you’re also depressed.

The confession hits you hard as well for some reason, even though you’ve known it as a fact for quite some time. You’ve never outwardly admitted it. Suddenly you’re feeling warm wet tears run down the sides of your cheeks. They surprise you. When did you start tearing up?

Now they won’t stop, despite your frantic hands that try to wipe each one away.

“Sorry… I… didn’t meant to get so emotional all of a sudden! Haha..” you’re sniffling a bit between your words, and trying to force a smile to make things less serious. Dirk just stares at you as you try to pull yourself together. “I just can’t help.. but think like… wow! I’m really going to live… potentially forever… and I’m not even enjoying the beginning… what’s 50 years from now gonna feel like? What’s 500 years gonna feel like? Will I even be me anymore at that point?” You’re just rambling now. You’ve went so quick from a normal rant-sesh to such a wet sloppy mess (ew). You’re no doubt embarrassed, and trying to talk in a casual manner that will maybe make you forget that you’re sobbing in front of your cool best friend or maybe crush, while he stares at you uncomfortably. Why did you even think coming here was a good idea? You’re in no place to help him. You just needed him to help you. You are selfish.

“Im- Im sorry, I’ll stop.. just give me a sec-“ you’re cut off suddenly. A distantly familiar feeling. You’re quick to go from feeling alone and pathetic, to warm and secure, as you’re pulled into an embrace with Dirk Strider. These hugs are not something you get to feel often. You didn’t even hear him walk over.

You’re pulled out of your intrusive thoughts immediately. You feel safe, and comforted. In a way only he’s ever been able to make you feel. Despite all the bickering, and smart ass comments, you really loved Dirk. He always knew how to talk to you and handle you, with just enough care, even though sometimes you craved more. (Give a dog a bone, right?) But not because of the hug alone, no. It’s what’s about to come after this. This is it. The clock is moving, it’s in motion.

He pulls back only after he’s felt you settle down and go quiet. “I know how you feel. You’re not alone, you know that.”

You nod, too flustered to look him in the face, so you look to the side, staring at his funny little shoulder tattoo. “I feel guilty about it though. Earth C is so perfect. I should be really happy, shouldn’t I?”

“Nah. Nothing is ever perfect. Even though we literally created Earth C, I wouldn’t call it perfect. In fact, we’re probably about to get so fucking far from it.”

You look at him and tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

He pulls back again, standing up, turning to grab a chair sitting in the corner of the room. He carries it back over and sets it down in front of you, your eyes follow him the whole time. He sits on it the opposite way you’re supposed to, legs around the back of the chair, resting his arms on the top. The way a cool guy sits. You look at him, attentive. Ready for him to lay it on you.

“I just seriously doubt that anything that’s about to happen will turn out very good. Our years for living a ‘normal’ life are already pretty much past at this point.”

Okay, now you’re really confused. “Dirk you’re not making any sense. What’s going to happen that’s so bad?”

He looks at you for a moment. He definitely isn’t intending on sharing with you any information of any importance, but you don’t know that.

“I don’t know yet. John has to make a decision first.” He says nonchalantly, looking more stoic than usual.

You don’t respond, waiting for something else. But that’s it.

You can’t help it, you start laughing. What could that possibly mean?

“John makes a decision?? That’s it? What’s the choice? To nuke or not to nuke the planet??” You’re still giggling at this thought, though kinda morbid.

Dirk isn’t laughing. “Ha ha. No, it’s nothing like that. It’s hard to explain. But the jist of what I was saying before, is it’s just that none of us are really meant to live a normal life on Earth C. Think about it. A bunch of immortal gods, of totally different upbringings and outlooks, and even species, all living on one little planet. We’re bound to fuck shit up one day.”

You’ve stopped laughing now and take a second to think about this. You’ve never really considered it. “Yeah… I guess now that you say it, that sounds kinda bad. We could’ve done with a few more planets in the system honestly.”

“No, it’s not about the number of planets. Even if we all had our own planets, we’d end up going to war and shit with each other one day. We’re just not meant to lead normal lives.”

You frown at this. Why would friends go to war with each other? Granted, not everyone was super close, but we all fought to make this universe, why would we tear it apart?

“I think you’re oversimplifying it. Not all of us want to be dictators.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. You definitely aren’t happy about Janes plans, Dirk knows this.

“You subtly talking about why you don’t like Jane and the way she wants to lead just proves my point. And anyways, It doesn’t matter. We don’t have a choice in what we are. And what we are, is gods. We’ll have to ascend one day.” You search for a hint of irony in Dirks face, but he’s dead serious. Wow.

“Ascend??? Dirk what the hell are you talking about?”

It’s quiet for a moment. Dirk catches himself about to tell you too much about what has been fucking his brain for months, or more like years at this point. You can tell his silence is a troubled one.

You reach out a concerned hand to place on his arm. He flinches a little. “Dirk… please tell me what’s going on. What are you talking about?”

He can’t look at you. His head stays in place, but he’s avoiding eye contact even though you can’t tell. There’s a lot of thoughts going through his mind right now. Not all of them are about his ultimate self that is inevitably going to take over one day. Some are about you. And about the outcome of this timeline. For a moment he feels sympathy for all his friends. But there’s not much else I can tell you about what he’s thinking. Not now.

“I just… don’t know how much time I have left.” He says, still having not moved, but his eyes watch the clock behind you.

“How much… What? Dirk… Are you sick or something?” You are rapidly trying to understand his cryptic way of explaining to you, but it seems you’re falling short.

“Not physically.” He pauses and actually lets out a slight chuckle, putting his gloved hand on his mouth. You bask in his slight-laugh, he’s really so charming. More than he could know. “God that sounded so emo.”

“Dude, I don’t sound any better. We’re both being emo, it’s fine.” You smile back at him, removing your hand from his arm. You feel a bit of tension leave your body that you didn’t notice was there, the sound of his laugh ever like a cure to your stress.

He nods. There’s just so much he can’t tell you, you wouldn’t be able to understand. And he didn’t want you to either. He didn’t want to put that burden on you. There was only one person he could give that burden to, and he still wasn’t sure when he’d have to tell her.

But there were some feelings he knew he could vaguely talk to you about.

“But no, I’m fine physically. It’s just… I don’t know. I guess I’ve been having the same thoughts you have. How long can this all really last? Who will I be hundreds of years from now? What if I don’t even recognize myself anymore?” He pauses for a moment, and you watch him frown as he thinks of something. “I definitely won’t.”

You don’t dare interrupt. You just sit and listen, attentive, the best you can. When Dirk starts opening up, you hardly say a word until he’s finished.

He goes on about how he’s been feeling especially useless and exhausted lately. Talking vaguely about his potential and his purpose, and that right now just felt like a stagnant period while he waits. But what if he doesn’t want to have some greater purpose, or some ultimate potential destiny? He’s always just wanted to be able to live a happy, normal life with his friends. He didn’t get to grow up with other people and have relationships. Getting here to figure out that he really never would get that normalcy, sucked the hope out of him. At least, maybe he could’ve got a while if he had made the most of the last seven years. He can’t even say they flew by, they dragged by painfully. He says he’s always just felt like he’s been watching his friends live through a window, communicating behind the glass, but not actively joining them.

You soak in every word like you’ll need to know it for a test. You nod every now and then, and quietly “mhm”, to show you’re listening. You can feel he’s still not done yet.

“I mean honestly (y/n), what’s even the point of it all? You feel it too right? There’s no way we’re headed toward a future that’ll be of any real purpose.”

You decide to finally speak up since he addressed you. “Are you saying we’re in a doomed timeline?” You ask, enabling him to explain more.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I’m not even sure doomed timelines are possible anymore, they’re just… timelines. But we’re definitely not going to be living happily ever fucking after.”

You’re giving him that sympathetic look now, but he reads it as pity. His head reflectively looks away. He’s starting to get aggravated. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I don’t even want to go through with this anymore. I just wish it’d all end.”

Woah. You’re eyes widen a little at what he’s implying. “Dirk… don’t say that-“

“What’s even shittier about this whole thing is the fact that even if I really wanted to end it, I couldn’t. None of us could. Except maybe the trolls. We have to wait for something just or heroic to happen and decide our fate for us. We’re stuck to live in some shithole timeline with no way out. I have no choice. I either subject to being a depressed shut-in, or leave my humanity behind to pursue something above this existence. How pathetic is that?”

You’re not sure exactly what he’s going on about, but your instinct immediately is to comfort him. You take his hand. He doesn’t flinch this time, but he doesn’t look at you either.

“Hey, just calm down for a second, okay? I promise you it doesn’t have to be like that… I don’t know what’s due for this timeline, and I’m not sure if you do… If Rose told your something or.. I don’t know. But I always know that whatever life throws at me I’ll…” you hesitate to say the rest of the sentence. It’s a little cheesy, it almost makes you cringe for a second. But then he looks at you, clearly anticipating the rest of your sentence. You push through. “I’ll know I’ll be able to get through it, because you’ll be here.”

He’s doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are wider now. He has no idea what to say at this intimate sentence. The two of you have been close for a while now, but you never really express it verbally. You just enjoyed each other without having to say it usually. The lack of response eats at you, you have to say something else since he clearly can’t think of what to say to that. You let go of his hand too, thinking maybe it’s making him uncomfortable.

But he watches your hand as you pull it away.

“And I’ll always be here for you! I’ll always be here to help you. I mean… if you ‘left’ in whatever way that means I’d…” You play with your hands again, the both of you staring at them, thumbs in a tug of war. “Just… please don’t leave, okay?”

You both look up at the same time to make eye contact, but it’s obviously more intense for him. He can’t promise you that. He’s told you he won’t already, but you refuse to understand him.

You’re both quiet, and you anxiously bite your lip again at his lack of a reply. Why isn’t he agreeing?

“(Y/n)… have you ever thought about trying to take your own life? Just to see what happens?” The sudden dark inquiry sends your heart into your stomach. Why is he saying this? Your face looks terrified, but he doesn’t say anything, still looking.

“Dirk.. W-what are you say-“

“Have you?”

You swallow hard. This is something you REALLY don’t like to talk or think about. It’s something you’ve never spoken to anyone about.

But the answer is yes. Of course. You think about it a lot recently. It started when you started living alone. Those restless nights, wondering what the meaning of it all was. You wondered if maybe the clock of justice would consider the theft of your own lifespan a worthy enough cause. Why would a godtier with no will to live be worthy of such a title? It wouldn’t even makes sense, like more of a punishment than a reward. In a sense, you killed yourself to get this title. Why couldn’t you do the same to remove it?

Maybe you could.

You’ve been quiet a suspicious amount of time now. It tells Dirk his answer, but he still waits for you to admit it. His social cues are still really not the best sometimes, even after getting used to social interaction. You’re clearly uncomfortable.

You’re looking at your lap again, but your hands are still. You’re too deep in traumatic thought to even want to move. “…Of course I have.” Is all you say after a while.

“Have you tried?”

His question sounds genuine. Actually curious.

“No. I wouldn’t dare. What if…”

“It worked?”

“…Yeah…”

“Then it’d finally be over.”

When you look up, he’s still staring at you. You’re still scared, your heart breaking more with every word he says, but he seems calm now. As if he’s decided something in his mind. The more the clock ticks, the more anxious you get. What is he thinking?

You’re just about to speak up again, try to say something to calm the conversation, or just to change it to something less triggering. But he suddenly stands up. You look up at him, face getting more worried.

“Dirk?”

He’s not looking at you anymore. And without a word, he turns around and begins to walk away.

“Dirk?? Where are you going?!” You automatically stand up when he just continues to get farther away, turning to go down the hallway.

You follow him, quickly.

“Hey! Wait! You can’t just leave the conversation like that!”

You watch him turn into the bathroom, and shut the door before you can get to it. You jiggle the doorknob, but of course it’s locked. You’re panicking a bit now. This panic causes you to bang on the door without thinking, feeling a bit helpless.

“Dirk!!! What are you doing in there?! Please just wait a se-“

“Relax.” You hear him calmly through the door. You silence immediately hearing his voice. “I’m just using the bathroom.”

Your face automatically turns a slight pink. All of the panic and anxiety turns into embarrassment in the blink of an eye. You must’ve been overreacting. You do that sometimes.

“O-oh….. Okay. Sorry… I’ll leave you alone then.” You’re cursing yourself in your mind as you start making your way back down the hall.

Halfway through though, you stop suddenly. Taking a second to think about what just happened, to see if you were really overreacting. You come to the conclusion that you definitely weren’t, now that the embarrassment has subsided. Why would he just suddenly lock himself in the bathroom after your intense discussion about suicide? That is definitely concerning!

You feel better having justified yourself. You then come to the rational decision that you’d give him 5 minutes and then check on him. Hopefully you’re jumping to conclusions, and he’s just really bad at ending conversations like usual. You take a direct turn into the kitchen that was right next to you. You flip the light switch on and take a seat at the table. What an exhausting conversation you just had. That was not how you were expecting that to go at all.

You look around. The kitchen isn’t excused from having a bunch of junk in it. There’s spare parts and random doodads laying all over the place. Wow, did you just think the word “doodad”? Who are you, Jake? Sometimes being here alone with him made you feel like it. Like Jakes replacement.

You decide you’re just gonna tuck that repressed thought back deep into your brain. That’s not even possible, you and Dirk aren’t even… I mean he would never… Wait didn’t he just tell you earlier that you shouldn’t assum…. OKAY THATS ENOUGH.

The clock ticks by with the speed of a damn snail. You’re just sitting there watching it. You don’t even have the energy to check your phone to distract yourself. One minute has gone by and you’re waiting on the second. You’re also listening intently for any concerning noises, but you’re pretty sure the walls in this place are very thick. You couldn’t hear him drilling or anything from outside earlier, and the hallway isn’t that long.

You’re staring at a piece of hair in your face, blowing it up and watching it fall back down, passing the time. Three minutes now. Your stomach grumbles, and you decide to check Dirks fridge for inventory. When you open it up, it’s literally just like 10 half gallons of milk(?). This is clearly equisprites doing, but what has Dirk been eating??? Does he ever go out for food? Does he alchemize it? Who knows. You sigh and sit back down.

Just as you’re counting down the last minute, you hear the bathroom door open and you look over to the doorway. After a few steps Dirks frame passes right by without glancing at you, even though it was obvious you were in there with the light being on. You sigh x2 combo and stand up from the table, walking out and back into the hallway to follow him.

He’s sitting back on his bench in the living room, working again. You watch him, about 6 feet away. You don’t even know what to say, and you take your time trying to think of something.

“Are you… okay?” Is all you could come up with.

There’s no response. You can see he’s assembling his drill with a different top. He’s gonna drown you out.

“Dirk. It’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it anymore. You can just-“ the drilling starts “-… say that.”

You look dejected. It’s a sad scene honestly, if you could see it like I am in my mind right now, and I hope you are.

He’s never been this distant before, especially not after opening up so deeply like that. His feelings were like a one way ticket each time, once you’re in, you’re in. But he’s forced you out after already letting you in. It didn’t make any sense. You look at the clock on the wall. It stopped working. When did that happen?

“Is there anything I can do to get you to talk to me?” You ask as a last resort.

Unsurprisingly, no answer. You give up. Quite frankly, that whole conversation tired you out too, emotionally. If he doesn’t wanna talk about it anymore, that’s fine by you.

“Do you mind if I stay over at least? Is the guest room still open?” You ask, expecting an answer, since it’s unrelated.

However, still no answer. You don’t know why you thought you’d get one that time. You decide to just take his silence as a yes. You’ve stayed over his house plenty of times before. A lot of the time when you guys would hang out, you’d talk or do something into late hours of the night, and not realize how late it’d gotten. The guest room might as well be yours at this point, since you’re pretty sure no one else ever stays over. Other than Jake, but he’ll just sleep in Dirks room. Obviously. And Dave has his own room here for some reason.

You take yourself up the stairs, and you gaze at him for a minute from the rail before you make your way to the room. This whole day has made you sadder than you already were, you think.

When you’re in the room, you don’t even take in the interior. You’ve seen it a million times. It’s just a bunch of subtle weeb decor. Annoyingly aesthetic. You faceplant onto the bed and kick your shoes off. It’s not even that late, but you’re so exhausted from that interaction and from not getting much sleep the night before. Insomnias been hitting you hard lately since you didn’t have Dirk. It’s been especially lonely. Somehow being in Dirks house lulls you right to sleep immediately.

You sleep like a baby. A full 8 hours, something you haven’t had in a while. When your eyes flutter open it’s pitch black, only the light of the bedside clock glaring at you. 2:00am. Wow, it’s early. Or late, you guess?

You don’t know what to do since you feel so awake now. You could probably sleep a little more? You decide you wouldn’t mind some milk right now before you go back to bed. Assuming the white fridge liquid is milk. You’ll take your chances.

You make your way down the stairs, and as you’re descending you start to remember todays conversation. You cringe a bit. The whole thing was so emo and embarrassing on both of your parts. You’re pretty sure you made him uncomfortable towards the end and that’s probably what scared him-

Suddenly your thoughts are cut off. You hear… A voice. Dirk? It was only quick, but you see a small light from the hallway leading to the kitchen. You follow it quietly, curious.

When you see him, you freeze at the sight.

He’s leaning over the kitchen sink, head hanging. He’s facing away from you, and you’re kind of hiding in the doorway anyways. The ambiance is coming from a small nightlight over the counter. You wish you could see his face. You hear a quick sniffle.

You’re deciding whether to say something or walk away. It seems like he’d want to be alone right now. Or does he need someone more than ever? He’s been so hard to read. You always think you interfere too much with him, but you can’t help it. Then, you hear him let out a small, quick sob. Probably the source of what you heard earlier. He sounds like he’s trying to hold it in, even though there’s no one around from his perspective. Your heart breaks. You have basically no control over what you do next.

Suddenly, Dirk feels a pair of arms wrap around his abdomen, a warm body leaning into his back, embracing him. He jumps slightly at first, but relaxes into it after a minute. He’s silent now. No sniffling, no sobs.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you say once you feel him relax.

It’s silent again. All you can hear is the clock behind you.

“You don’t have to respond, I just can’t stand to-“

“I tried it.” He says, cutting you off. He sounds defeated.

Your eyes widen a little. “You tried…”

“To kill myself. Earlier.” He states way too bluntly.

Your heart sinks. “Oh…”

Silence.

“It didn’t work.”

“Well, I can see that.”

“Because I couldn’t actually do it.”

You pause for a moment.

“Huh?”

“I couldn’t really go through with it a hundred percent… I have to see this timeline through. It’s my burden to bear.” He grits his teeth and grips the sink. You feel his tensing.

“I’m sorry, Dirk.” It’s all you can think of to say. You don’t want to bother asking him to clarify anymore. You have no idea what he’s going through or what to suggest. This is all you know. You hold him tighter, and nuzzle a little bit more into his back.

He relaxes again, to your surprise. And he lets go of the sink with one hand to place it on your arm. You can’t see his face right now, and you wish you could. The two of you stay like that a little longer. After a minute or two you can feel him crying again.

You’re sure it’s hard for him. Not just what he’s going though, but being vulnerable about it.

Suddenly, you feel yourself start to tear up too. The two of you share a cry almost silently, not having to see each other in this emotional state, but still holding on and having someone there.

“I promise it’ll be okay.” You say, breaking the silence. “Whatever you’re going through, we’ll go through it together. I’m a god tier too. I promise I’ll be here for you.”

It honestly feels like this made him cry a little harder as you feel him shake a little more.

He raises his hands up to his face to wipe away any evidence of emotion under his shades. Then, to your surprise again, he breaks out of your embrace, only to turn around and embrace you again straight on.

You’re surprised for a moment, but when it settles in, you hug him back with all you have. And maybe it’s just you, but no hug between you two has ever felt this… passionate?

“Sorry I’m being like this. It’s just been hard. I’ve never been this emotional about it, even though I’ve known it for so long. I think it’s because it’s getting closer. And because you’re here. Probably why I’ve also been ignoring everyone.” He confesses. “So there’s your answer. I just didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m sorry, again.”

Again, you have no idea exactly what he’s talking about, and you make a mental note to maybe ask about it again another time when you’re both more stable. But you’re just committed to comforting him to your best ability right now.

“You don’t have to apologize, Dirk. You can tell me anything, seriously. I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do to help you. I wish I could.”

You feel him sigh slightly, but it seems more like relief than frustration or anything negative.

“You should really get some sleep. Have you been up this whole time?” You say, changing the subject in concern for his wellbeing. You wonder what his nights have been like all this time you haven’t been talking.

“Yeah. But I’m fine. I don’t really have a sleep schedule anymore.”

“Well, looks like we’re starting now then. Cmon.”

He doesn’t complain or object when you pull back and take his hand to walk out into the hallway. The two of you make your way upstairs and into Dirks room. He doesn’t say anything, and you couldn’t possibly know what he’s thinking right now. About you.

You stop right after walking in the doorway and let go of his hand.

“Well, goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning, kay?” You say, giving him as much of a genuine smile as you can manage. You start walking past him to leave.

But then his hand grabs yours, stopping you. You freeze for a second, and turn to look at your friend again.

Your eyes widen at the sight when your eyes meet his. He had pulled his shades up to sit on his head, and for the first time you see his eyes, along with the rest of his face. Granted, it’s pretty dark so you can’t see the color well, but you can’t help but think they’re beautiful, just like the rest of him. His face also just reads ‘exhausted’, and tired from all the crying and emotion showed in the last however many hours. The two of you are quiet, staring at each other like this for a moment.

“Would you… wanna stay?” He says, not breaking eye contact, but still seeming slightly unsure about it?

“Stay… like, stay over? Yeah.. I-I was just gonna go to the guest r-“

“No. I meant in here.”

You’re blushing now. Good thing it’s dark, you guess. “In… your room?”

“Yeah.”

“In your bed?”

“Mhm.”

He seems much less embarrassed by this than you, of course. You’re extremely flustered now that you’ve made sure he meant what you think he meant. Wait… does that mean he wants to sleep with you or like SLEEP with you??? Oh god-

“Not anything weird. I just mean like, we can sleep in the same bed.” He says, almost like he read your mind. “It just feels like we both kinda need some comfort right now. And it feels weird to have you sleep in a different room after… Yknow everything that just happened. You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No!” You say, embarrassingly fast. You clear your throat a bit, not making it any better. He smirks at you slightly, tilting his head. Lord have mercy. “I mean… That actually sounds nice, yeah.”

He smiles in response, and you bask in the sight. Dirk Strider smiling at you, fully exposed so you can see all his beautiful features at once. You’re actually really happy right now. You haven’t felt this happy in a while. Which is kinda ironic after todays conversations. Why does he feel like a cure to your pain every time?

With his hand still holding onto yours, he guides you over to the bed. He puts his shades on the bedside table. When you both lay down and get under the covers, he turns to face you. Your heart is pounding like a million times per second right now as you turn to look back at him.

“You’re blushing pretty hard right now. You okay?” He says, and you can definitely see that slight little shit-eating smirk. He’s really gonna tease you right now. How could he even tell you’re blushing?

“Shut up! I’m fine… You just caught me off guard..” You defend.

“What? Did you think I wanted to have sex?” You would think he’s teasing since he’s still smirking, but it also sounds kind of like a genuine question.

Hearing him say it out loud while looking at you with those intense eyes makes you blush harder, like your face is actively working against you. “NO! Well… I mean I wasn’t sure.” You have to look away for a second. “And sleeping in the same bed just feels intimate in its own way, even without sex.”

He nods understandingly. “Yeah, you’re right, this is pretty intimate I guess.” It’s silent for a moment then. “…But …I don’t know. It just feels right after everything that happened today.” He looks away now, facing the ceiling.

This grants you to look back at him. You take in his beauty, the moonlight from the window being the only luminescence to light the scene. Even the curve of his nose looks perfect, making an impressive outline of his side profile. You just can’t stress to yourself enough how you love seeing him like this. You wish you could do it everyday. You’re smiling without realizing it.

“You can take a picture if you want, it’ll last longer.” He says, glancing at you while keeping his head in place.

You blush again and shove at him lightly. “Fuck you!” You say, but you laugh afterwards. He smiles in response. If only you could stay this way forever.

You turn to face the ceiling as well. After that, it feels like it’s the end of your conversation, and you both start trying to fall asleep. You’re laying there for so long trying to sleep, you can’t remember how long it’s been. You did get a lot of sleep earlier so it makes sense that it’s a little hard now, plus being in bed with Dirk isn’t helping. Your heart is still kinda racing.

What happens next almost gives you a heart attack. You feel Dirk snag his arms around your torso, his face leaning into your arm. You’re frozen, and you’re not sure if he’s sleeping or not, so you don’t say anything.

As if he feels your discomfort, he speaks, in a low tone “Sorry. Is this okay?”

“Mhm…” you respond quietly, and carefully move your arm up and put it over him, and he automatically leans into your side now.

Now it’s really hard to sleep, so you just open your eyes. You look down at him and take in the rare and perfect sight of Dirk Strider sleeping. He looks so peaceful. Unbothered, undisturbed by Earth C and all your stupid post-Sburb problems. You wish you could make it all go away for him.

You start to run your hands though his hair softly, and he hums slightly in response. Still slightly awake, but you can tell he’s on his way out. You smile at how natural this feels now.

You finally feel yourself start to fall asleep as well.

“I think I’ll stay here for a while.” You say quietly, but Dirk is already sleeping. And you follow suit with him again as soon as you say that.

The two of you stay intertwined for the rest of the night.

END

#dirk strider x reader #dirk strider #dirk #strider #self insert #homestuck #hs #homestuck fanfic #homestuck epilogues #homestuck^2 #sorry for the possible jade slander that could be interpreted. i literally love her but in the epilogues it was yikes #also kinda #davekat x reader #one sided crush #unreciprocated love

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jjkeverlast · 9 months

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Hi it moonie

I hope you're copping well with the news bc I'm in shambles since yesterday when I watched the concert and I saw our little meow meow cry his eyes out and the ending also made me really emotional and the whole hyung line was there 😭 and when I thought it was getting better I also woke up to the notification from big hit like I knew it was going to happen soon but I didn't know they're gonna slap us with it not even 24 hours after the last concert 🥹

And to give you a little life update i enrolled into college we will see how that goes but something I have to complain about is my mother like I love this woman but she was blessed with the lean petite body type and I got the body genetics from my dad side so I always was more of me (to set the scene although I was always thicker I had good weight for my height maybe it was more that some people liked but I wasn't overweight back then but since the lock down happened I gained weight and went up around two sizes) and I honestly feel good in my body maybe I'm not the most beautiful person but I don't think I look that bad but I had to buy a dress for my cousins wedding and I went with my mom and oh boy was it an experience but to keep the long story short( and not to bore you with my hectic explanation skills) I'm traumatized and I'm almost 100 % sure my mom has some negative emotions towards bigger people and I'm not taking her shopping for formal wear anytime soon 😭

But at last I hope you're handling things well and that you find a good job on your job hunt 💜

🌝

hi my lovie,

idk how exactly i'm coping... gahh seeing yoongi cry yesterday made me get that gut feeling that it's come to an end, especially as he stepped through the door (fucking hell i'm sooo proud of him) but yeah, that announcement hit me right in the fucking gut. i woke up, cried when i read it, tried to ignore it but then i wanted to get some comfort and of course where i get the most comfort is yoongi's documentary, so yeah i sobbed again but it was a good cry u know? one where you know everything will be okay and that he'll come back better than ever along with the other members. but yeah, i feel you baby. getting that announcement will hurt each time god.

okay, i just foremost want to say that how your mother has acted isn't your fault and has nothing personally to do with you. i hope you don't walk around feeling guilty or shitty about your weight because your body is a vessel! it's there with you, your whoooole life so spending time hating it isn't worth it :(( you're supposed to cherish it and caress it you know? but i'm so so sorry to hear you had such an experience. my sister has been through the same problem after her depression, which caused her to gain a lot of weight and my mom openly fat-shamed her for months until she lost it. so i might not feel exactly what it is you feel, but i've been a witness to it and it hurts. i just want to say, thank you for sharing this, i'm sure it wasn't easy for you, especially seeing it's a touchy subject. i hope you'll feel better with time, and please take care of yourself. i'll be here if anything as always, my friend. <3

i'm currently looking for jobs so this was so sweet of you to say!! thank you baby. <333

[edit: I FORGOT TO SAY IM SO HAPPY TO HEAR YOU'VE ENROLLED IN COLLEGE BBY THATS GREAT NEWS!!!]

#moonie <3 #anonie 🌝#lati's mailbox📬

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koishua · 2 years

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I hate the fact that it's come to this. I'm literally a year younger than Riki and if I can apologize for my comments that I did not know affected a large variety of people, he can too. they're the first group I stanned but if some of the members are so ignorant about an issue that affects most (and if they know this is an issue, lurking around with their secret twt accs), either someone educate then and make them apologize then and there, or get an official apology

tw: fatphobia, fat shaming, food disorders, bullying

fr. i just KNOW they know that we're pissed about their behaviour regarding the situation. especially this time, since the uproar is much bigger than ever (rightfully so, bc it's time to end this shit istg) i don't know them irl, that's obvious, and i don't claim to. i don't know what goes on behind the scenes and whatnot, so i can't be talking all personal as if i know how they are off cam, but like.... if it's this bad on cam, i truly wonder what goes on off footage?? they're not bad people (at least, i don't think so and i hope not), but my gosh if this ain't a bad habit they have developed oml. it's not just sunoo they're making fun of. although he is the recipient, their words have such a big effect on those who watch them and we can't stress that enough. it's only correct if they apologize to sunoo AND the fans/non fans who've heard their remarks and have personally felt the weight of their careless words.

a long and personal rant ahead regarding my own feelings and experiences

as someone who has faced those types of comments and remarks all throughout their growing phase— from being an eight year old child to soon being an eighteen year old girl— that shit affects you and it affects you bad. spending countless nights trying to quietly do all sorts of exercises in my bedroom, to trying to lie my way out of a family dinner, to skipping breakfast and lunch and even dinner at times when i could get away with it, to endless moments of shame and disappointment at looking the way i look? i am FAR from being overweight. i am healthy now. i WAS healthy, but my own family member poking at my chubby cheeks and the little meat on my arms when i was literally eight, nine, ten and still growing? for fucks sake my own father called me his potato princess for such a long time and it became so ingrained in me that i developed an unhealthy way of thinking. having a complex over the way you look and no matter what you do, you can't change it? it fucking sucks. it's detrimental. i was born with round cheeks. no matter how much thinner i get, i will always have round cheeks and i can't change that. it's horribly damaging, that way of thinking. recently my current close friend's younger sister has started calling me potato face and i can't escape that label no matter how hard i try. it got to me. i relapsed all because of that one word that a six year old said. what an insensitive child, but an actual child nonetheless. she can't think for herself properly. not yet. her brain isn't developed enough and she still needs to be taught social manners. riki, however isn't a child. he can think for himself.

im working on getting better and feeling okay about myself, but it's hard and seeing how some of my favourite people treat each other just packs a big, big blow.

#ii. ( pt ) —! anon asks.#i mean bros seriously 🙂🙂 luv y'all and what you do but this does not include that

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ayyezhongli · 3 years

Text

horny hungry dom zhongli x innocent slutty childe

where zhongli is horny asf and childe has this lusty energy around him which makes it hard for zhongli to concentrate bc he just wants to ravage and fuck childe using him as a fucktoy

ok so its late in the day n zhongli jus came back from a mission. he has paper work he needs to finish but forst he needs to shower bc he’s sweating like crazy.

so he says “good work today”

trying to contain himself with all this lust and sexual desire that was pouring out of childe. childe smiled saying.

“yeah thx, you too”

n zhongli walked over to take a shower. the lust was too strong. like a tornado. if he stood there any second longer he would’ve for sure fucked childe stupid right there. he turned on the shower water to hot and stripped revealing his member hard asf.

“fuck not again.”

so now zhongli steps in the shower, cheeks tinted pink and one of his hands against the tile wall.

“i’ll just get it over with now”

with his free hand wrapped around his dick, he starts pumping himself as images of childe flash in his brain. childe in a maid outfit. childe with a lewd face. childe moaning….all he could think about were these abstract images and dirty scenarios about childe he made up in his head mumbling childes name under his breath.

“Fuck! fuck! fuck!”

so zhongli cums shooting his load all over the tile wall panting. after a few minutes of washing himself he turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist and gets out. he puts on a fresh pair of boxers and has the towel over his shoulders. when he looks up to his surprise, he sees childe standing in front of him with a bright red face.

“S-sensei!”

“how long have you been here?”

“w-well i went to go shower bc i thought you were done b-b-but….”

zhongli stares childe down biting his lip. childe could see the hungry look in zhonglis eyes. he looked like a beast who captured his pret and ready to devour it any second. n he suddenly found himself backing up as zhongli approached him until he was pressed up against a wall kabedoned.

He’s gonna eat me alive!!

“u saw enough.”

zhongli couldnt hold back anymore. he jus couldn’t. he has been for so long and too long. and with the way how childe was acting, his flushed face. He REALLY couldnt.

“S-s-sensei?!”

childe was squirming around trying to escape and oh that turned him on so much. watching childe squirm underneath him. and so he fiercely attacked childes neck marking and claiming every spot he can which in response to this action childe gripped his shoulders letting out tiny little pants and moans right into zhonglis ear.

“Sensei p-p-pls stop”

childe begged while zhongli ignored him. childes begging only made him harder. there was no going back now. zhongli slid his hands up childes shirt mouth still attached onto childes neck. he went up pinching his nipples causing a loud moan to escape his mouth.

“F-Fuck Sensei!!”

he moved up to nibble on his ear and reached his hand down into his pants to palm him.

“you’re already so hard for me childe….”

“S-s-sensei….”

childe moaned into his ear. childe had the lewd face that zhongli always dreamed of. It turned him on so much he almost came.

“D-d-dont to- Ahh~!!”

it was too late, zhongli had a tight grip around his dick and started pumping him fast. childe came within seconds all over zhonglis hand and in his pants. zhongli rid childe of his pants and started rubbing against him through his boxers.

“Mmmnn S-sensei dont stop ahh~”

“i never planned too”

He’s even hotter than i imagined

“childe….”

“w-w-what.”

“kiss me.”

n so childe did. wrapping his arms around zhonglis neck kissing him passionately. he wanted to have all of childe for himself. have him all to his self. violate and claim every orifice or non orifice of his body. all of it should n would belong to him by the time he’s done. pulling away breathless a string of drool attached from the mouth he went back in and childe rubbed back harder and needier than before.

“S-sensei….i want you….”

zhongli felt himself blush but kept a calm composure.

“prostrate yourself in front of me and maybe i’ll consider it.”

childe did so all shame going down the drain. n zhonglis view was nothing short from perfect. it was beautiful. seeing childe’s pink innocent little hole with his ass high up in the air. he couldn’t hold back. it was so plump, so untouched, so round, so innocent looking he wanted to destroy it. and so he bit down marking and claiming what belongs to him which made childe yelp. with a loud smack childe came as a red hand print formed on his ass.

“you came just from that? what a slutty little masochist”

childe quivered while zhongli spanked him a few more times. he could feel his legs going weak until they finally decided gave out and he dropped to the floor unable to hold himself up any longer.

“i’m not finished with u yet. get back up.”

childe struggled to follow his directions but eventually did wobbling.

“good little slut.”

zhongli bent over and planted a gentle kiss on his head.

“turn around and suck”

zhongli said pulling down his boxers revealing his hard member. childe just stared. that wouldn’t be able to fit inside him!! how was he gonna take all that it!!

“stop gawking at it n suck it!”

childe gulped and started licking his shaft sucking on the balls from time to time. he slowly lowered himself down gagging at every inch. he wanted to see zhonglis reaction through it all so he maintained eye contact as he watched zhonglis face flush and his hand covering his mouth. it was hot ngl and childe could feel himself becoming harder. after a few zhongli came and he could feel the slimy liquid go down his throat and drip down the side of his mouth. he pulled away but before he could fully zhongli held him down.

“keep going.”

childe did the best he could. and he could feel zhongli’s throbbing cock in his mouth.

“stick out ur tongue”

zhongli said panting slightly

“Fuck!”

and he came all over his face and getting sum on his tongue. catching his breath he looked down at childe to see such a slutty cum covered face panting with his tongue sticking out and tears forming from the side of his eyes.

“you look so hot covered in my cum, such a slutty whore all for me~….”

zhongli put his fingers in childe’s mouth.

“suck and get them nice and lubricated.”

childe did so until zhongli pulled them out.

“prostrate yourself for me again.”

and when he did, zhongli shoved his fingers inside causing childe to moan in pain, crying.

“S-s-sensei it hurts…”

“it wont for long just hang in there. this isnt even the part that hurts the most.”

zhonglis fingers wiggled around inside childe

“god ur squeezing my fingers so tightly”

his fingers searched for that one g spot.

“where is it now….”

zhongli said still looking until childe arched his back and let out a loud moan drool dripping down the side of his mouth.

“found it.”

what was he feeling? what was this immense amount of pleasure? has he have no shame? it all felt too good childe couldn’t think straight. as a puddle of drool formed from the side of his mouth n on the floor zhongli pulled out and aligned himself.

“woah woah wait sensei thats not all gonna f- AHH SHIT!!”

but before childe could finish zhongli pushed himself inside him. all of him. and childe choked on his own spit, eyes widening and crying clawing at the floor to escape as zhongli thrusted into him fast and rough showing no mercy.

“Sensei it hurts! It hurts! It hurts so much!”

childe cried out clawing and scraping at the floor.as much as he tried to escape zhonglis grip on his hips was too tight.

“shhh its okay….it’ll feel better soon.”

and like zhongli said, the pain started fading away n all he could feel was pleasure. all he could think abt was zhongli. zhonglis dick deep inside him. destroying him. ruining him. claiming him.

“Zh-zh-zhongli~!!”

childe moaned out.

“fuck that was hot. moan out my name again. moan the name of the person who’s fucking u stupid. claiming you for themselves.”

zhonglis pace quickened and by now he was slamming into childe ruining him like he always got off too.

“ZHONGLI FUCK!! I’M GONNA-”

and with that childe came dropping to the floor.

“this isnt over yet childe, not even close~….”

zhongli flipped him around placing each of his legs on his shoulder and pounded into him harder n faster than childe could ever imagine.

“I’m gonna cum again…”

“n im gonna cum too….”

giving a few more thrusts zhongli came inside him and childe came again on his chest cum dripping out of him and panting heavily and twitching.

“ur still so hard for me.”

zhongli palmed the twitching childe and he came once more all over zhonglis hand. zhongli lifted his hand up to childes mouth.

“lick it clean”

hesitating, childe sucked his hand clean tasting himself. the bittersweet slimy consistency. he couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose.

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style.

“lets take a shower shall we?”

“t-t-together?”

“mhmm.”

and so they stepped into the shower to bathe but it turned out to be another round. the end :)

(but guess what- i wrote an alt ending so enjoy 😈)

ALT ENDING:

“good boy.”

zhongli said picking childe up and carrying him bridal style. when zhongli raised his head he could see diluc standing in there eyes widen is shock to speechless to say anything. Childe looked at diluc face flushed

“DILUC??!!!? HOW LONG HAVE U BEEN THERE?!”

diluc was too speechless he couldn’t say anything.

“i’m just gonna-”

diluc said turning around.

“dont tell anyone diluc”

“i never planned too.”

diluc said walking out.

“Besides…i dont wanna risk the chance of me n kaeya getting out.”

(ok now thats the alt ending. hope you enjoyed the story. it’s pretty rushed but don’t mind that)

#childe x zhongli smut #zhongchi #zhongli x childe #childe x zhongli #zhongli x childe smut #zhongli x tartaglia smut #tartaglia #tartaglia x zhongli smut #zhongli smut #zhongli #tartaglia smut #zhongchi smut #childe smut #childe #genshin impact smut #my zhongchi smut collection

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yesimwriting · 3 years

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Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagines #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows show #shadow and bone show #six of crows netflix

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

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When In Italy Part 4

here is part 4! Um this chapter has bad words and some adult themes so warning for that! The next part will be the last, so let me know what you think! Are they end game or no? Also! If you want a personalized imagine, check out my pinned post! If you want to support me ---> please click here! every little bit helps bc im a broke ass college student so thank u to anyone who wants to support me :)

All comments and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! :)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

You stood frozen as he stepped out of the elevator, his eyes soft as he met yours, waking towards you.

“Get away from me.” you whisper, attempting to push past him and get into the elevator, pressing the door closed button before even pressing a floor, not wanting him to get any closer.

“Y/N, wait!” he rushed, sticking his hand between the doors and stopping it, his tall frame standing before you that you quickly push past, going back to lock yourself in your apartment, and lock him out, “Please, let me explai-“

“No!” you stopped, voice firm as you turned to face him, “you can’t keep doing this! you can’t keep showing up like this! So just leave me alone.”

You kept walking, ignoring his pleas as he came after you, successfully unlocking your apartment door rapidly, but you catch a glimpse of rings as he hand stops the door.

“Please.” He whispered, not pushing the door open and you saw a flicker of his eyes and you could almost see the sincerity in them, “I know I don’t deserve it, I really don’t, but I would just love to talk to you for real this time, anything you want to know.”

“and you’re not gonna be an asshole this time?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, peaking at him, “because if you are, I swear to god Styles I will give you 5 seconds to get the fuck out.”

“Promise.” He nodded and your heart believed him, so you opened the door.

You watched as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, slowly entering your apartment and you didn’t miss how his eyes scanned you quickly, before bouncing around the apartment, looking around the space he used to be so familiar with.

You watched how he headed to the couch about to sit but stutter stepped a bit, scratching the back of his neck and looking at you, almost asking you if it’s okay if he sits down.

You gave him a soft smile and nod, tucking a loose hair behind your ear and sitting on one side of the couch, thankful he sat on the other, giving you each plenty of space as your eyes met. The tension was slowly rising, looking at each other as you sat, wondering who was going to break the silence.

“I never meant for anything to happen.” he whispered, his head falling as a shameful look covered his face, avoiding your eyes, “After the breakup… I- I was just lost. I was messing up at work and I just was doing shit. Then, it was like only like a month ago, I was getting drunk all the time and she just came into my trailer and we were talking and then she kissed me.”

You just nodded, biting your bottom lip and picking at your nails, peaking up and looking at him, your glossy eyes meeting his bloodshot ones, not really having anything to say in response.

“And I just…” he started, “I wanted to feel better, feel anything. So, we just started hanging out more and I just really wanted to feel something, feel a connection. So we took a trip to Italy because… It’s always been a place that made me feel better and then…”

“Yeah.” you chuckled, “and then… Why did you bring her to our house? I know we haven’t talked about that kind of stuff, but it’s mine too Harry and… just seeing you two there? I never felt more replaceable than I did when I saw you two.”

“Oh love, no.” He whispered, scooting closer to you, a hand coming up to cup your face to help your eyes meet, but he retracted it back before he made contact with your skin, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry and I will never be able to prove to you, but that was never my intention to ever hurt you. The breakup was a mistake.”

“I… How am I supposed to believe that?” you squeaked, voice cracking as the barrier breaks, tears falling on your cheeks as you looked up at him, “We we’re together for years and you just- I mean fuck Harry! I haven’t even thought about even starting to flirt with someone and you’re…”

“We’ve never had sex,” He quietly added cheeks turning a bit red, “or done anything like that. At all, I just… couldn’t.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the confession, watching as he looked at his hands, a slight twinge of embarrassment on his features.

“Oh.” you whispered, “I know I shouldn’t be mad, we… we aren’t together and you have have the right to do whatever you want but it’s just… hard. Especially when I wasn’t expecting it. I went to Italy to try and get away, everything in the city makes me think of you, I don’t know why I thought staying at the house would be any better but, I just wanted to get away.”

“Sorry I ruined your trip.”

“Sorry I ruined your hookups.”

He let out a laugh, the smile staying a bit longer when he noticed you had subconsciously scooted a bit closer to him.

“It’s not like I ever really wanted to… Even little Harry only wants you.” he flirted and an instant, loud laugh leaves your lips, leaning forward and your brace yourself on his shoulder, a simple thing you had done over the years countless times, but still made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh my god,” you said between breathless laughs, your bodies now less then a foot apart as you smiled up at him, “please do not call it little Harry!”

“What do you prefer?” He smirked, “rather I call it bi-“

“What the fuck?” a voice spoke suddenly, both of your red eyes going to your front door and seeing your best friend standing their, her eyes wide in a mix of confusion and anger. Your hand retracted from his body quickly, your best friend looking at you with soft eyes, her eyes darting over to Harry’s and you see the fiery anger behind them, “Y/N, please tell me he was getting whatever shit he left behind and is leaving.”

“We were just talking.” You started, glancing over at Harry, seeing a bit of fear behind his eyes and your lips quirked up in a smile that quickly faded seeing the anger in y/bff/n eyes.

“What do you want to talk to him about? How he broke your heart again?” She asked, confusion and concern laced in her voice, “I’m sorry, y/n, I just… I can’t watch you go through all of it all over again and again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he quickly stood up beside you giving you a quick nod as he glanced over at y/bff/n the back at you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just showed up. It was so good to see you, y/n, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Harry, wait!” you stood up, hating the softening in your voice, “I want to talk more… are you staying or do you have to go back to L.A?”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me. And if you want me gone, I’ll book my flight. Okay? It’s up to you, whatever you want.”

“Okay… Can I call you later?”

“You can call me anytime, I’ll pick up.”

***

Y/bff/n definitely wasn’t thrilled with you.

“I just feel like this is a bad idea, y/n!” She had exclaimed once Harry had left your apartment, “He’s gonna hurt you again! What could he possibly want?”

“I dont know, I just… I dont know.” You sighed, sitting across from her on your couch just like you did with him, “I love him and I don’t know what’s going to happen but I don’t want to end up hating him.”

She nodded, looking at you as your eyes glazed over again, “Hey, okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you upset. Do you still wanna go try this new place or just hang out here? Let’s get your mind off of everything, you need a break, yeah? Especially if you’re going to talk to him later.”

“Do you think I should?"

“If that’s what you think, I think you should. You know him.” She nods, “but I swear to god if he makes you cry again he’ll have to deal with me.”

So now, here you were, waiting on him to come back to finish your talk from earlier. It was helpful hanging out with y/bff/n, listening to her advice as she gave you a bit of the reality check that you needed, making sure he won’t sweep you off your feet with his familiar charm.

Your heart rate never fully calmed down as you waited for him to come back to your apartment after y/bff/n dropped you back off after your afternoon together and you were glad for the few hours of a distraction, but now your mind was fully occupied with him once again as you sat on your couch.

The knock on your door caused you to jump, hoping up and checking your appearance in your hall mirror before swinging open the door, seeing Harry standing their with a bouquet of flowers, a small smile on his face.

“Got these for you,” he began, “shoulda showed up with them when I kinda crashed into you earlier… but I was so nervous I didn’t think about it, honestly.”

“Thank you.” You softly replied, eyeing up at him and taking them from his grip, letting out a shaky breath as you welcome him in and turn on your heel, going to your kitchen to place them into a vase quickly before going back to him, seeing him in the same spot you two were sitting in earlier.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again… and thank you for letting me come back and talk to you at all, really don’t deserve your time, but I’m thankful for it.” He began, eyes glued onto yours as he scooted closer to you when you sat down, his fingers tentatively trailing on your arm before laying his hand on your own, “I… I want you back, y/n. I want to be with you, I never stopped wanting just you.”

“Harry, I… I don’t know what to say.” You started, “I just… there’s so much still up in the air and it’s all happening so fast. Are you still with Olivia?”

“No, of course not.” He instantly answered, “we were never anything real, I left Italy when I went to the house and you were gone. I came back here and I just… I would sit outside your building in my car and just try and get the nerve to walk in to talk to you, but I was so scared of you telling me to leave again.” Harry started deep into your eyes as he continued, his own welling up with tears, “I love you so much and I was such an idiot and fuck baby… I’ll do anything to prove it you.”

Now, you two were just inches apart, his hand cupping your cheek as you leaned into it, eyes glued onto his eyes as both of your gazes were glassy, sets of eyes wandering down to one another’s lips. Your eyes fluttered up and looked at him, his nose nudging into yours, seeming to test the boundary and you simply nodded, causing him to connect your lips in an instant.

Your lips met softly, gaining speed as the passion overflowed you both as the familiar move came back easier than either of you could have imagined. You both moaned into one another’s mouths, his tongue quickly sliding past your lips as your crawled onto his lap, fingers gripping the soft material of his shirt.

Things escalated quickly as he carried you into your bedroom, body hovering over yours as his body pressed against yours, the articles of clothing disappearing piece by piece, lips never separating a second longer than they had to you as you refamilarized yourselves with one another.

His fingers dug their way into your waist as he kissed you harder, singular pieces of thin material being the only things separating you and as Harrys fingers slipped down, pulling back and looking up at you for permission, your breath caught in your throat, reality hitting you like a wave.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered, fingers removing themselves from his hair as you covered your face, voice wavering as tears welled up in your eyes once again, “I-it’s all too much, too fast- I-I, I don’t think I can do this, Harry- I can’t.”

“Fuck, it’s okay.” He whispered, crawling off from on top of you, scrambling to pick his t shirt off the floor and handing to you, quickly covering your body with it, “Fuck, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

You nodded quickly, knees tucking into your chest as you let out soft cries, flinching as his arm came around you, going to comfort you with the soft stroke of his arm and retracted it quickly after seeing your reaction.

“I-I… I just keep seeing you and her in my head.” You whispered, “…I don’t know if I can do this.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles masterlist #harry styles series #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles headcannon #harry styles fanfic #bucky barnes

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ppersonna · 4 years

Text

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it. Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals. established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever. thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in! i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol. one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard. wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing. Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes. Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn. Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin. You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house. Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music. There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper. Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips. You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product. Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock. Any product would unfortunately get in the way. Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips. Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one. Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror. The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly. Jimin would surely lose his mind. The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight. Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary. But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos. You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth. You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little. Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry. I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in. You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice. You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone? Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance. Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand. You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger. Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it. The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching. The man lived for your exhibitionism.

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor.

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you. Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself. Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy

mini 3:07 pm- good. I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you. You’ve won the grand prize. Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home. You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30. But was he leaving early? Could you chance it? As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door. Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back. You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity. The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high. Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high. Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom. He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked.

You’re trembling, you notice. Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening. You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent. He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you. He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you.

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle.

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight. Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous. His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton. Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face. Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you.

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.

You play it coy. “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you. His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again. You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early. Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver. His hands are smooth, warm. You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs. You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees. He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his. His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive. He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife. It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks. It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features. It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs. A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud. “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious. As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband. The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body.

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments. “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling. “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull. You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning. Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground.

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet. You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring. Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake. You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing. By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind.

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it. Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert. He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you. You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain. It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy.

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp.

SMACK. It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits. Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops. You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs. He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself. It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue. It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile.

He’s pleased with your answer. He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back. Head off the side. I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass. It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him. The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband. It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed. Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles. His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand.

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft. You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe. I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub. Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare. You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine. Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat. It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head. Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think. You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh. You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right. You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself. The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra. You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly. Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it. You nod again and blink. “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning. It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more. He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites. You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier. He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however.

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you. His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display. You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you. He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.” He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain. “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then. Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit. A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago.

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud. Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe.

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel. You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.

“Add another.” His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool. But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself. His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch. The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily. He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it. “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air. “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby? You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg. You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation. He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now. You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying. Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb. You had been so close, so deliciously close. Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night. You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial.

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release.

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel. He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound. Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness. It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it. It’s about the message, the ownership.

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction. “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight. Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words. Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night. It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together.

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight? You want to make a baby?”

You nearly sob at his words. He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.” His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven. His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on. You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman. The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it. You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background. It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you. The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him. It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet. He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock. “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion.

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips. You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there.

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds. Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.” He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you. You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere. You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour. Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth. He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him. He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality. You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open. He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you. “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

#bangtanarmynet #maknaesmutsociety #kwritersworldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts jimin #bts park jimin #jimin #park jimin is a dom #you cannot change my mind #well maybe you could #but a girl can wish okay

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littlebigafterdark · 3 years

Note

I'm feeling in a particular mood for some more Logan stuff, (totally not my comfort character who unfortunately is a medium for a lot of angst /s) so maybe the almost-relapse?

the littles accidentally trigger logan's ED (janus and patton help him thru it)

This is a copy pastd from a really long message i sent to liv a few weeks ago, just in case the grammar is weird or somethin!

oOo

context: whenever roman is a brat and refuses to eat dinner, logan gets noticeably more frustrated than with any other bratty behaviour because it hits too close to home to his eating disorder

so...

one day when patton is out somewhere, maybe at his carpentry class ((thats actually slightly spoilers for a big concept for the main blog lol)), logan has both the littles

and roman is bratty and refuses to eat dinner and logan breathes evenly and tries not to worry abt it bc he KNOWS roman always eats, hes just doing it to be annoying, breathe, he isnt actually restricting its ok

and logan was literally holding the baby fork up to vees mouth and suddenly she giggles and pushes it away

"come on baby, yummy time" logan coos and smiles a little but he doesnt feel it, and with his other hand he tickles lightly under vees chin and she giggles and logan smiles and goes to feed her again

but she pushes the fork away and babbles "mo bima!"

and roman laughs "yeah, no dinner! no dinner!" and bounces

and logan is feeling rlly shaky and hot suddenly and swallows thickly and ignores roman, and keeps looking at vee "princess, please open up," trying not to pay attention to how shaky his voice is. "its papa's spaghetti remember? yummy" he nods enthusiastically and goes to feed her again

but again vee just giggles all squeaky and pushes the fork away and looks at roman with a big smile for his approval. and roman is like "yeah vee! rebellion!!!" still so playful

but he hasnt noticed logans chest is heaving a little and hes staring at where vee pushed the fork away and logan was too shaky not to drop it on the floor.

and he looks up at vee and how small she is and how shes genuinely on the lower end of average weight and they need to make sure she doesnt dip down into underweight and thinks about how terrified he is of the idea that if she did develop an ED like he did it would be so dangerous and he cant see his baby go through that and-

it just hits him so so so harshly and hes suddenly crying and roman and vee freeze and look at him. and he hurriedly wipes away his tears and breathes shakily and tries to say again

"vee pl-please just ea--" and his throat closes up, he cant even say the word 'eat' and he gags on his tears and jumps up from his chair to run out to the downstairs bathroom and locks himself in trying to calm down and stop gagging.

and he can hear vee crying and roman - adult now - promising her its okay, mama feels a bit sicky but everythings okay, lets phone nana, its ok baby

and logan is breathing too fast and shaking and crying with his back against the bathroom door, not gagging anymore, but unable to take himself outside

. he hears roman feeding vee, and vee giggling and clearly enjoying the food, but no matter how comforting that is to hear he cant get over that genuine terror he felt when vee refused to eat, its his worst nightmare for vee to develop disordered eating - for any of them, but vee is already very thin and it could be critical, and logan cant get over that

when janus arrives (barely ten minutes later, he must have jumped in the car straight away which is only used for emergencies bc of janus' partial blindness) he speaks quietly to roman, and of course theyre trying to be subtle

but the kitchen is only across the hall from the bathroom and logan hears every word of roman explaining what happened and how confusing it was and how patton wont be home for another forty five minutes and roman didnt want either vee or logan to be alone but they probably shouldnt be around each other right now since vee gets so upset when the others arent happy

roman tries to talk to logan first through the bathroom door, apologising for misbehaving and promising he wont do that again. but can logan tell him what exactly was so bad about it this time? so roman can not do whatever it is in future.

but logan cant bring himself to say anything. he cant tell roman about this at least not yet he hasnt felt ready yet even if its been years and he doesnt know if he ever will be ready to tell roman about his ED

so after realising logan wont talk to him, roman swaps with janus. janus doesnt know the details but he knows theres something about logan and eating and hes made an educated guess from all the fibs hes heard over the years.

"hey, dic" (janus' unsavoury nickname for logan that he insists is just short for dictionary) "do you need a glass of water?"

logans throat is actually dry from hyperventilating and he says with a quiet scratchy voice through the door "yes please"

and when janus brings it to the door he just knocks gently and when logan opens the door to accept it janus doesnt make any comment on logans messy hair where hes run his hand through it or on his glassy red rimmed eyes or on the tremble of his fingers. but he does say "i know it must be so cozy in there" he nods to the cramped cold bathroom "but you might just prefer it in your room"

logan flushes a little and nods, comes out of the bathroom and heads to the stairs, but he pauses at the bottom of the stairs thinking... he doesnt know if he can be trusted alone upstairs. theres another bathroom up there and the gagging has made his stomach churn and he feels FULL from dinner and if only he emptied it then maybe he would feel better right? .... no

so he rasps without turning back to janus "i... i cant be alone"

"look behind you, idiot" janus says and its far closer than logan remembered him being.

he whips his head round to see janus was following closely behind him. janus raises a pierced eyebrow "well, are we going to stand in the stairway all night?" and of course its snarky but its soft too

so logan breathes deeply and they go upstairs to his room. janus makes himself at home, immediately grabbing a book from logans book case and collapsing sideways in logans armchair as soon as they stepped in the room. logan reclines on his bed and sips his water and does breathing exercises and tries to not feel humiliated about this breakdown

every time logan tries to apologise for disturbing janus' evening (he didnt) or asks if janus is sure roman is grownup enough to look after vee appropriately (he is) or insists that he is okay to be left alone now (he's not) janus just murmurs "shut up im reading"

when patton gets back roman just tells him logan isnt feeling good and patton hurries up to see him - and upon seeing his husband logan is overcome by shame that he almost relapsed and relief that his best friend is here and a wave of tears that he tries and fails to blink away

and janus just quietly bids them good night and promises he'll stay a couple hours to keep roman and vee company, but patton insists he stays the night in pattons room (its not safe for him to drive in thr dark) and janus is used to this routine by now that he knows where the spare pillows are

so janus leaves quietly and logan croaks "thanks, old man" trying to sound casual but regretting it when his voice shakes. janus just holds up a peace sign and closes logans door behind him on the way out.

as soon as the door closes logans face crumples and he hides his eyes behind his arm and patton practically bounds over to logan and climbs onto bed next to him and cradles logans head to his shoulder as he cries

they stay like that, cuddling in bed, patton cradling logans head and kissing the nape of his neck and wrapping his arm around logans waist to spoon him and whisper about what happened and how they can avoid it in future

but mainly they just breathe and cry together and patton fills the hours with soft affirmations of love and getting logan a tea and promising its okay if logan wants a cookie with it but logan says maybe later (later turns out to be 2:30 in the morning but at least it really was later)

they barely sleep that night but its all comfort and talking and by morning despite being exhausted, logan feels safer and breakfast goes by without a hitch

oOo

just some notes me and liv made that i think highlights some main points:

logan struggling so much even when he knows that the kids are just playing around and they don't really mean that they don't want to eat, but it's just one of those things that inevitably hits too close to home

it just suddenly hit him! like any other day he can cope with roman doing that, its a small blip usually, but the fact that VEE started refusing food freaked logan out so much bc they genuinely have to keep an eye on her weight just bc shes naturally so small

his emotions about his history with an ED plus his overprotective mama cg space making him nearly go into a panic attack from the thought that vee could develop an ED is very sad and very true

and janus coming right away!! and he and roman handle the siatuation so well, like roman was so smart knowing not to leave logan alone, and janus calling him dic and taking him to his room and staying there until patton gets back

and him crying from just seeing patton because he's his best friend and he can be vulnerable around him is very :'c <3

hes so so relieved to see patton but theres also the slightests "ive let my husband down" bc he thinks bc patton helped him so much he owes it to patton to not relapse - but of course pat reassures him its natural to relapse but he didnt! he caught it in the early stages and asked for help and patton is never disappointed in him

he caught it!!! he caught it and he stopped himself and he let himself be helped by both roman and janus and patton and he didn't even relapse!! and this whole thing is really a sign of how far he's come that he was able to accept their help in his vulnerable state, even if roman and janus didn't have the full story, they still wanted to help him through whatever he was experiencing

#mama logan #little big eating disorder #do not reblog #long post #asks #adorable undead queen #little big after dark concepts

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pbjamas · 3 years

Note

I have a word! It's worms- what, it's already used? I can't believe this >:(! Wait, what? Aaah, I see. Sorry, I almost forgot the worm propaganda 😔 NKJASNDKJAN ignore me, what about the word... hmm... "cute".

For this ask

in this house we support and share the hawks eats worms agenda!!! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

UMMMMMM okay for cute.... i don’t have a bnha wip........i have a naruto one..... and it’s not well written........ and it’s a little....much lol. It has the WORD cute but it is not cute 😅 I don’t like this style of prose bc it’s too melodramatic for me (i know im in the minority here but my ideal writing style is ernest hemingway lol). The title of this one is “Sakumo + minato + Itachi parallels”. I’m posting a whole big chunk of it bc i doubt i’ll ever post the whole thing. also heads up it’s about kakashi and his father and if you know how that ends up.... yeah. tw suicide

They give their all to Konoha.

Konoha doesn’t care.

Hatake Sakumo goes about his final day with a sort of excitement and relief bubbling inside him, and he smiles for the first time in months. He’s still chained by the failed mission—it wraps around his legs, slows his steps, settles on the backs of his hands��but he knows he’ll be free soon, so he goes about his tasks with more grace. Now that he’s made up his mind, he doesn’t know whether he’s anxious or excited, only that he just wants the moment to arrive as soon as possible.

His good mood lasts until Kakashi leaves for the academy. Or, technically, not for the academy.

“Goodbye, Kakashi, be good for your academy teachers, okay?”

As he says it, he realizes that Kakashi looks a little different. His hair is atrocious; it’s grown like a shrub weed in the forest, but it also looks like it’s run into the business end of a kunai. Sakumo wonders for half a second who gave his son such a bad haircut before shame pulls him toward an answer: he’s been so out of it that he hadn’t noticed his son needed a haircut, and Kakashi had done it himself.

“Dad!”

Sakumo snaps out of it.

“Sorry, what was that, Kakashi?”

“I said, I’m not in the academy. I passed the chuunin exam last month. Are you…” Kakashi’s voice wavers in a way that clutches at Sakumo’s heart. “Didn’t you know?”

Kakashi’s wide, hurt eyes add one more layer of resolve to his decision. He’s been such a bad father. So bad that he can never fix it, and the only thing he has left is to atone. Good thing he’s already been planning on it.

He allows himself to ruffle Kakashi’s hair, scoop him up in his arms (he’s so small. What a cute kid. He deserves the best), and hold him close one last time before sending him off.

It’s okay, Sakumo tells himself. Konoha will be better to Kakashi than his own father ever was. They will take care of him. He’s done his part, now the village will have no reason to hate him. He trusts them to do right by his son where he couldn’t.

Now, there is only shame. It drags him to his tanto, then to his knees as he wordlessly sends one last plea.

Please, let this be enough. I’ve had enough. I have had every speck of honor drained out of me, but if any remain, please, let them be enough.

#LMAO SORRY TO DROP THAT ON YOU FOR THE WORD CUTE #IM THE WORst #ask #fic #wip #naruto #suicide tw

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la-paritalienne · 4 years

Note

Eve!!!! Need your thoughts about Taylor's album!!!! 💓💓💓💓💓💓

i love getting asked :”(((((( :”))))))) thank uuuuuuuu. let’s get to it. as usual, it’s an almost-first impression (normally i write my basic thoughts during the first listen – yeah i’d started doing it before getting this, you know, just in case – and then i review them w a second one, where i also select my favourite passage). sooo, let’s go

♡♡♡♡

the 1 — such sweet yet heartbreaking lyrics... very soft sound, if it sets the mood for the album im 100 per cent in! This one didn’t stick w me after one listen, but after the second i was like wooow! I love how she says waking up alone ughhh. 8

fave lyrics: persist and resist the temptation to ask you / if one thing had been different / would everything be different today?

cardigan — !!!!!!! the sound has that bittersweet something that gets under your skin and makes you nostalgic for something you can’t even pinpoint. it reminds me of the softest lana, especially in nfr (eg bartender!!). i’m in awe. instant obsession!!!! the ending takes you to another plane of existence – ‘cause i knew everything when i was young... i knew you’d miss me... you’d come back to me. also i’m crying. 10+

[it’s hard to choose bc the whole song reads like poetry but i’m especially obsessed w] giving me your weekends; once in twenty lifetimes; tried to change the ending / peter losing wendy; you drew stars around my scars

the last great american dynasty — storytelling on pointttt and sound, too! telling the story of someone she bought her house from?? the genius jumped out. she paints it like a romantic portrait, mad woman pacing on the shore, but then also gatsbian, the crazy parties, dali... and then takes it back to today w the key lime green dog, idk, iconic. i want to know this woman. this song truly takes you somewhere else, i thought it was a bit repetitive but then the bridge came in and the final vocals plus i had a marvelous time ruining everything, i have to stan! 8+

there goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen / she had a marvelous time ruining everything

exile — ok wow, bon iver’s voice is something else!!!! i was kind of ignorant when it came to him, i admit. his depth and rasp paired with how angelic she sounds... heavenly. sound-wise, but also thematically, this vaguely reminds me of tomorrow never came w lana and sean ono lennon. (one of my fave songs of all time maybe?). the way they enunciate i think i’ve seen this film before is literally a work of art all in itself, not to mention – well i’m mentioning it bc it’s worth it! – the you never gave a warning sign vs the way she goes over it w i gave so many signs. god this makes me feel sooooo sad and like, involved. it’s so beautiful. 10

you’re not my homeland anymore / so what am i defending now?

my tears ricochet — ok wtfffff??? everything about this speaks to my soul. the airy voice, the way she sets the scene... sunlit room, the funeral metaphor, you turned into your worst fears. i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace speaks to me more than anything, but just, everything about the lyrics. truly something else, cursing my name / wishing i stayed gives me chills everytime she says it. the beat that gets more insistent towards the end, with the bridge....... the high notes that then fade..... just wow. 10

and i can go anywhere i want / anywhere i want, just not home / and you can aim for my heart, go for blood / but you would still miss me in your bones / and i still talk to you when i’m screaming at the sky / and when you can’t sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies

mirrorball — love the lyrics, maybe a bit less the sound? i mean i do love the sound, so far i’m loving how softly produced and coherent this album is, but this one i wouldn’t listen to on repeat and maybe there’s something a bit whiny that i don’t love. powerful meaning tho, and who’d use a mirrorball as a metaphor for feeling like you’re fragile, trying too hard to be a people-pleaser and no one sees the real you? 7

i’m still trying everything to keep you looking at me

seven — ah........ i started crying as soon as this one started, pleeease picture me in the trees, i hit my peak at seven....... like ok there’s no need to go that hard??? it’s so dreamy and like... naïf? in a perfect way. the way she says i still got love for you...... and everything else... she mentions folk songs... the purest love described in the purest way. i don’t think i have enough words to descrive the way this song moves me. like i want to listen to it again and again, to be able to feel like that again, but also i’m almost scared to listen bc it touches me too deeply. i still will tho hehe. 10+ (also just realised this is track 7 ok makes sense but my mind is blown. 100)

[this is literally deeper than a shakespeare sonnet so everything literally is my fave but, having to choose] and i’ve been meaning to tell you / i think your house is haunted / your dad is always mad and that must be why / and i think you should come live with me / and we can be pirates / then you won’t have to cry / or hide in the closet / and just like a folk song / our love will be passed on

august — i love the contrast between the lighthearted, happy singing and guitars and the sad lyrics. the story it tells is so simple and yet there’s so much poetry in that... plus it reminds me of fearless or even speak now?? which are like. the taylor that gets to my heart, tbh. the bridge and the outro made the song for me. 8,5

for me, it was enough / to live for the hope of it all / canceled plans just in case you’d call

this is me trying — oh god... lyrically this song is so raw and honest, it gives me chills! i do have to say, i don’t love how she says i just wanted to know (like metrically?? idk, im weird) but these are really just small comments on amazing songs, bc i feel like all i’m saying is wow this is great, lyrics and sound, but it truly is a complete and consistent work of art, easily listened to top to bottom each time. 8-

they told me all of my cages were mental / so got wasted like all my potential / and my words shoot to kill when i’m mad / i have a lot of regrets about that

illicit affairs — ok this goes without saying but i love storyteller taylor, it’s the taylor i grew up loving and singing to in my room. the thing about most of these songs, this one included, is that they probably grow on you after a few listens, bc they’re not made to be catchy, the production and backgrounds are always very soft and some i love more than others. this one musically maybe isn’t my fave but the narration is on point, and the bridge?? the fuckkkk. plus it has one of mt favourite themes ever which is so rarely spoken about, which is the fact that language you only speak w a particular someone you love, makes you miss them even more when they’re gone. or well not exactly this but i can’t put it into words, she did tho. 8+

you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else / and you know damn well / for you, i would ruin myself / a million little times

invisible string — the color theme!!! the guitar strumming!!! and the idea of an invisible tie w someone special... i do think she outdid herself w this album. again, not my fave soundwise, maybe slightly whiny when she goes meEeeEee? but, lyrically adorable and moving. 7,5

one single thread of gold / tied me to you

mad woman — maam...... this is iconic shit........ how could she say stuff like this w such a dreamy, breathy voice. musically i get huuuge lana’a nfr vibes again (which i mean. goals) but i also adore that lyrically it’s so taylor, no one would say this shit the way she does. adore how she sings to wrap your news around and bonus for women like hunting witches too, i do love me a nod to the fact that some women are so deeply filled w machism that they’re basically men in disguise. 8,5

every time you call me crazy, i get more crazy / what about that? / and when you say i seem angry, i get more angry [isn’t this just womanhood condensed in a few lines]

epiphany — aw! it sounds like a lullaby, maybe it’s slightly ‘boring’ for my taste? meaning i get distracted which is surely a shame bc the words seem beautiful, but it’s so soft i just drift off? but reading the lyrics – for focus hehe – i’m moved. 7+

only twenty minutes to sleep / but you dream of some epiphany / just one single glimpse of relief / to make some sense of what you’ve seen

betty — okay byeeeeeeeeee. this is taylor at her finest! countryyyyyyyy, storytelling, lesbian jdjdfk no yeah I know I knowww, romance went sour. gut wrenching and beautiful, this feels like... watching a sad teen movie but w a sepia filter, idk. i dreamt of you all summer long oh my......... it’s like og taylor from her iconic first couple of albums came back but w all her baggage and growth and experience and better than ever. also why does taylor sing so wel about being in love w a woman????? well. 10+

betty, right now is the last time / i can dream about what happens when / you see my face again

peace — ..........yes yes yes. the high notes, the honesty, the syncopated parts where she says so much so quick and yet it still hits you. it’s not even a short song but it ends too soon, it goes by like that..... a poem. omg it just hit me this has flo vibes! especially from high as hope, for example grace or south london forever?? i mean... taylor doing alt folk country pop...... queen. give you my wild, give you a child?? ok ok. 10

all these people think love’s for show / but i would die for you in secret

hoax — weeeell the lana inspo jumped out w that piano!!!!! and like. mood. and lyrics...... this reminds me of wuthering heights or of lana’s tormented love stories (shades of blue.....). a powerful closer. poetry. 9

i am ash from your fire

♡♡♡♡

okkkkk this was a flattering review, very well deserved imo since the review is mine gjgjhkhk i agree w myself. thank you again and as i always say, feel free to come back w your comments! and have a great dayyyyy! much love

#taylor swift #folklore #also bonus points for the title #fave ever from her #10 #should i tag my reviews #(i think this has now become the tag)

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stateofirrelevancy · 4 years

Text

CALM First Listen Impressions

I’ve been doing these since SGFG and imma keep doing it till the day i die!!

Red Desert - OOF harmonies okay I see you !! Intro is hella soulful don’t tell me I’m about to cry ALREADY guys… okay that bass in the bg is thicccc and I’m living for it OOF AND THEN THE CHORUS HITS AND THOSE DRUMS BITCH THIS SONG IS SO GOOD ON JUST THE FIRST LISTEN Y’ALL AHHHHH and then that TRANSITION from chorus to second verse my mans ashton did not disappoint !! Guys I’m really feeling this song holy shit it’s so good. Bitch this RED in the bridge is rly TEASING ME like bitch KEEP GOING!!!!!!!!!! Low key this song sounds like it’s 90% saying “red desert” over and over but I’m not complaining issa bop and a half !!! AHHH THAT ENDING AND THEY REALLY WENT TO A LOWER NOTE THAT WAS SO GOOD if that ain’t my fave song on the album i’ll be hella shook. Rating: 10/10 obviously

No Shame - I’ve liked this song since the very first time I heard it it’s actually such a bop. I can’t wait to drive around with this song blasting in my car. I LOVE when Luke says “Go on and plaAaAaAce me” it’s so pretty!!! Rating: 9/10 I just wish the bridge had something different I’m not a big fan of sos ALWAYS doing slowed down choruses for bridges and once you notice it it’s hard to stop lol

Old Me - I wasn’t a huge fan of this song the first time I heard it and genuinely didn’t think it’d grow on me AT ALL, but even after the second listen I really liked it, and I’ve really come to appreciate, like, the fan service message behind it? And that music video just made me love it more. The thing I didn’t like initially and still am not a huge fan of is how autotune-y the song sounds. I know everyone uses autotune, but imo it’s way too noticeable in the song to the point where it sounds a little unpleasant once you catch it. Rating: 8/10

Easier - Okay to be honest, I hate this song LMAO like one time I was crying in the shower while I was listening to my music on shuffle and this song came on and I literally stopped crying to change the song and then went back to crying daskjfkaljl Honestly the verses are really catchy and I like the prechorus but god I DETEST the chorus so fucking much it’s so fucking annoying and that’s low key like most of the song,,, I don’t even wanna finish the song but imma force myself to lmaooooo Rating: 3/10

Teeth - I love the bass at the beginning I’m such a slut for thicccc basses. I also like how crisp? Luke’s voice sound initially idk if that’s like a weird thing to say lol. I also hate the chorus here but not as much as Easier and the other parts of the song def make up for it. Rating: 6.5/10

Wildflower - This song was also like Old Me to me where I didn’t really love it at first but really liked it the second time. It’s definitely not gonna be a favorite of the album or a song I’m probs gonna remember forever but I bet it’s gonna be a BOP at concerts which is always appreciated. PLUS I love that Calum is singing he has a very unique voice I think. Also side note I justopened the livestream and it’s a hot mess lmaooo Ash rly fucking fucked up and needed to move it onto Cal lmaoo here I thought I was in sync with everyone smh. Rating: 7.5/10 with room to grow with more listens i’m assuming

Best Years - Anyways moving on from the livestream mess from these kids who don’t know technology,,, oof first impressions: sounds like same vibes as ghost of you?? I love the line “I’ll build a house out of the mess” or whatever. The part where he sings “best yeeaaarrs” is uhhh kinda weird? I thought that when Luke sang this on live but I thought it might sound better on the track but lmao nah I still think it sounds awkward tbh. But the verses are cute. Oof that instrumental was so long I legit stopped paying attention dafkdasjlk OOF OOF OOF THAT PART WHEN THE INSTRUMENTS KICKED IN okay I live for that. Song is kinda short so it gives me vibes of Lie To Me + Ghost Of You in terms of vibe (not lyrics). Rating: 6/10

Side note: I open the stream and they’re?? Just talking abt the album???? What happened to group listen lmaoo okay I guess gotta do everything in isolation around here smh

Not in the Same Way - woah okay start right away I guess !! “You say go I won’t leave” oof I don’t like that lyric cause a bitch has dealt with it and it’s terrible!! Omg when they said “NOT IN THE SAME WAY” in unison I legit live for the boys singing in unison okay OMG WE FUCK WE FIGHT AFDKAKLDJKL he really just gets more blatant every album w these swears huh fdskjkl OOF THAT DRUM BUILD UP SOUNDED SO GOOD Okay this is def a song to bop to live I can’t wait !! “I’m sick of sadness you’re sick of sadness” oof these lyrics bitch…. okay this song is kinda repetitive which is making me kinda tired BUT it’s not the worst thing and I like the parts that they’re repeating i guess LOL oh WOAH that “eh eh ehh” part is kinda interesting OMG IS THAT AN ORIGINAL BRIDGE/THIRD VERSE? From *MY* 5sos?????????? OKAY I SEE YOU,,, Okay the repetitiveness is kinda rly annoying now but it’s okay I still enjoy the song for now but can see myself maybe not listening to this song much later bc of it (Rating: 7/10)

Lover of Mine - Okay acoustic song of the album icu icu “Butterfly lies chase them away” interesting I like that “dance around the living room” 👀 oof this pre-chorus is really good I’m such a slut for good prechoruses !! Luke’s voice sounds so soothing and smooth but the drums in the background in the second half are a little? Much? I don’t know maybe they’ll grow on me… I really like the lyrics of this song, I didn’t focus completely on everything but,, dare I say,,,, it might be some of their strongest writing yet??!? Omg I love love love these instrumentals near the end esp the piano sounds so beautiful and kind of reminded me of the interlude after San Francisco. Overall I think this song was honestly very beautiful. Rating: 8/10

Thin White Lies - more bass yessss it sounds so good,, are these lyrics about depression? Ehhh not feeling this chorus at all, too much going on and it’s just not a bop and that’s my only criteria for liking songs lmaoo. This song is giving me Empty Wallets + Babylon vibes kind of? Which isn’t rly my favorite vibe in songs tbh it’s just not for me, I don’t think it’s a bad song, though. “I don’t really like me anymore” :((((( mood Rating: 6/10

Lonely Heart - That one two three was so hot ngl,,, ANOTHER acoustic song?? Okay okay interesting. WOAH WHEN THEY CAME IN together god I love that and this OH OH OH part sooo catchy yesss okay also smth I’ve noticed 5sos doing a lot: quiet beginning (or quiet verses) and loud/bop-y choruses… that’s like half the album look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong !! It’s the equivalent of YB being mostly normal guitar verses and then instrumental pre-choruses lmao at least this I like a lot more WOAH THAT BRIDGE???????? WHO IS SINGING THAT IS THAT MICHAEL? I literally don’t recognize whose voice that is has it been that long since I heard his voice am I tripping?? But either way that was really cool. The song overall was pretty? Plain but not at all bad and it’ll definitely grow on me with more listens. Rating: 7/10

High - last song im so sad ahhh oof that sound it sounded like Michael? And it was umm very ear orgasmic lmao weird to put two songs that start like that one after the other tho but whatever. Woah the way Luke sang “highly” was so angelic !!! This is very acoustic-y too, but it seems like it’s truly mostly the same vibe throughout. Oof Calum’s harmonies sound so good. I also like the background “Ah”s this song sounds very angelic and pretty. I really like the way he sings the lyrics like “I hope you think of me high… think of me highly” and the part after that kind of mirrors that line. Not a huge fan of the lyric saying your friends just want you to yourself oof friends don’t like imma be honest that line was kinda cringy lmaoo But this song was very pretty, though honestly I doubt I’ll listen to it much or remember it just cause slow songs aren’t my cup of tea, but I can really appreciate the song for what it is and it was enjoyable to listen to. Rating: 8/10

Unrelated: I like that the album isn’t crazy long like every other album of theirs. I much prefer concentrating on 12 great songs than making 16-20 and then inevitably them hating/ignoring a few of them cause they’re like,, way worse than the rest of the album

Average rating: Okay technically 7.1/10 BUT if you take out Easier, then it’s a solid 7.5/10

I liked a lot of the songs and I’m sure I’ll like them even more with more listens, but the only ones I really LOVED were Red Desert and No Shame. It’s honestly a fantastic album, I just don’t think it fits my personal vibe. I’m very proud of the boys!! I really think it’s some of their best work. (Besides Easier,,, she can choke 💀💀)

#also idk music terms so if any were wrong pls dont come for me lol #forgot to mention this but i like the album a lot better than yb #i'd rate them sgfg > calm > yb > self titled #calm #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos thoughts

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cs-discourse · 5 years

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Breaking Down Clowns' Posts: Episode One with Mochi

let's get into a Breakdown, shall we? my interpretations are in bold :)

I’m fucking over this mewlin bullshit. Idc what kind of hate I’m going to get over this because obviously nobody is allowed to have beliefs contrary to your own anymore. to start off, saying "idc what kind of hate i'm going to get over this" before saying something defending a terrible opinion is a bad thing to do, just sayin. you saying "because obviously nobody..." makes it seem like you're annoyed with us being upset over transphobia! that's just my interpretation, but it'd bc a shame if you were :) because our opinion is valid and mewlin's transphobic opinions are not. anyways, if the beliefs you hold could potentially harm somebody/a community, they aren't valid whatsoever. let's put it this way (thank u alcides for saying this): bigoted people vote for bigoted opinions. bigoted opinions lead to bigoted laws, and these laws will harm people's lives & affect the choices they are able to make. also, blatant transphobia is so different from a VALID opposing belief such as preferring winter over summer. transphobia kills. favorite seasons don't. But anyways. Y’all need to laY oFF. Mewlin is a person, just like you and I. She thinks, eats, and breathes. nice to know she's living-- what exactly does this have to do with the point you're trying to make? homophobes think, eat, and breathe. racists, eat, think, and breathe. i could go on! She doesn’t deserve even a fraction of this harassment. are you sure...?? not even.... 1/100th of it? god, i can't believe a transphobe would actually DESERVE harassment!! the audacity!!! you should never be harassed for holding an opinion that harms someone's life! (extreme sarcasm, if you couldn't tell!) I get it, her beliefs are upsetting to you. thank you for stating the obvious! why wouldn't we be upset with a transphobe? Obviously I don’t agree with her beliefs, I think transphobia is nasty. i mean if my friend was a transphobe i'd fucking run from them but u do u boo BUT that doesn’t make her a bad person. You hear me? YOUR BELIEFS DONT DEFINE YOU. i've had to repeat something along the lines of this statement many times but i'll say it again: if your beliefs harm other people, then that's all people will define you with. Mewlin is a sweet, kind, supportive person with some controversial beliefs. some....? controversial beliefs? transphobia isn't even controversial ur either a terrible person or ur not. I’m not saying you have to love her, you can hate her with every ounce of your being, but keep it to your damn self! if u love her, keep it to your damn self! look what you've done by posting this. you've prompted a response from myself & many others. I don’t expect trans people to be all buddy buddy with her, or even cis people. But you have no right to dehumanize her the way you’ve been. i mean..... isn't she dehumanizing trans people by saying they're invalid & wrong....... :0c When she had her moments of saying nasty things, SHE DIDN’T KNOW BETTER. When she was called out, she stopped! did she really? Doesn’t erase what she said but it doesn’t mean she had bad intentions. i distinctly remember her defending her use of the word (tw!!) tr*p so like. ok You guys are so out to get her that you don’t realize she’s a person too. A person with emotions and a life to live. when are u going to stop using the "shes a person!!!" argument... zzzzzzz How do you think she feels reading about you all calling her disgusting and telling her she has no rights to this or that or even at all? i would hope she feels regret for her transphobic actions and that's all. Mewlin is truly a sweet, generous person. She gives people things out of the kindness of her heart. She’s gifted me a kalon and some edits, not to clear her name or to prove anything, but because she wanted to. what point are you trying to prove??? this is like saying a bully is a good person bc they're nice to their friends?? Have you ever considered that maybe her pfp on discord is that pride icon jish made because she wants to express her support?? okay... and? someone who's bi (assuming she's using the bi pride one) can still be transphobic lmao. Sure, she’s had her moments, but maybe she’s getting better. if she's getting better, i'd like to personally hear from her & not one of her friends. Maybe the pride icon is her way of trying to open up a little bit, and hey, she knows I’m a genderfluid lesbian and she’s never said a word to me about it. good for u!! must be because you're friends w her. she must be desperate to hold onto the few people who manage to ignore her bigoted opinions! Grow the fuck up and learn to either keep your mouth shut or GET OVER IT. Bitching about it on this blog for months is only keeping you angry and upsetting Mewlin more. i'm pretty sure people have the right to defend their identities & like. we would stay quiet if mewlin didn't continue to clown around This is counterproductive!! Yeah, you hate her. Woohoo!! You get a gold star! omg, thank u!!!! Now move on and do something with your life that isn’t obsessing over one person who is MISERABLE because of you. She is getting nasty dms all the time that are really upsetting to her all because you guys think it’s a fun idea to harrass her more. ok i haven't DMed her so i really don't have an opinion on that but., it's not like we're 'harassing' her without being provoked?? all of this drama starts with her & her bigoted statements/actions CS is supposed to be a fun, enjoyable game for everyone. It’s supposed to be a safe space. Lay off already and let her enjoy her safe space like you all get to as well. the problem with the last statement is that we don't get to truly enjoy this 'safe space' if transphobes like her are making trans people uncomfortable, afraid, and upset so like. Ok She’s not hurting anyone! really? she's not hurting anyone? If her existence makes you THAT uncomfortable, fucking block her and go. already have, luv xx I’m over it! I’m done reading the hate she gets on here and getting dms from my upset or even terrified friend because of what people said to/about her. are u trying to get us to sympathize w a transphobe..?? im confused. Imagine if it were you. i mean. if you read the salt blog last year it Was me so uhhhhh. what's your point?? i know i fucked up but it seems like all mewlin is doing is crying despite causing Imagine if it were your friend. i'm not friends with transphobes so i can't relate! There’s this DBT skill called radical acceptance. It’s where you recognize that it is what it is. You cannot change it so rather than sitting in your misery and spreading it around, simply accept that’s what it is and keep going with your life. Try it, it actually works pretty well. Radically accept that when it comes down to it, you can’t change her. So accept how she is and move on. are u asking people to accept that someone on what's supposed to be a safe space is a transphobe...??? Okay, I’m done rambling now. I’ve said my piece, I’m ready for the hate to come pouring in 👌

with this closing statement: it's 1am and i'm tired so! this is monky brain typing. i really don't have sympathy for mewlin whatsoever so like i really don't care if she gets upset over my response bc it's nowhere near compared to what trans people have to go through so :) my final words are: fuck mewlin and anybody who likes her despite her invalid shitty opinions.

#cs discourse #submission

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phoebus-de-chateaupers-blog · 5 years

Text

Horsenapped [Part Two] *** [Ghostbusters feat. Saddle Club]

In which Merida and Phoebus enact their plan...[takes place: January 15]

@heart-of-dunbroch, @trip-downtheriverstyx, @labellerose-acheron

[tw -- so many things. violence, kidnapping, gore, lots of talk and thoughts of murder, self-harm, just anything you would expect from a kidnapping okay it’s a lot. if you want a synopsis hmu bc phoebus is Truly Awful]

PHOEBUS:

The night had finally come.

And none too soon. Phoebus knew that the sheriff was getting suspicious, his plans derailed by the lunatic woman in the back of his car, who was glaring consistent daggers any time he looked in the rearview mirror. This town was too small to move the way he wanted or needed to. However, he knew they would all be thanking their unsung hero when Phoebus vanished after putting a bullet into Hades’ temple.

It was a good thing too for this town was too haunted. Even now, he could feel Clemens’ ghost closer than ever, breathing down his neck. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the same cold expression on Belle’s face on Clemens’. If he blinked too long, they shifted--one to the other, his victims. His collateral damage, for yes, Phoebus knew that Belle would die by the end of this too. That was his secret, his burden to bare.

Whatever was inside of her was stronger than some succubus. Was stronger than some lower tier demon. She may just be a poor Mundus woman that had been seduced and tricked, but there was no way to keep her alive--and the baby could not be born. It would be too dangerous. Sure, they would try the exorcism, but Phoebus knew that it wouldn’t work. The thing growing inside of Belle was evil in the purest sense, just as a babe was good in the purest sense.

The whole family needed to be extinguished, snuffed out like a candle. Their bodies buried in the Catholic cemetery so that they could not rise again. (This only worked on demons, for the record. Anything else in a Catholic cemetery could very much rise again.)

“Get her inside,” Phoebus instructed Merida, even if he didn’t need to. She was doing a very good job. And of course she was--he would not have included her if he did not trust her implicitly. If he did not think she was up for the job. (He had tried to recruit Phillip but the worthless boy hadn’t answered his phone. No matter, Merida was worth ten of him.)

The old wooden doors creaked, but opened easily. It was not locked, Phoebus knew that it would not be. There were a few votive candles flickering in their containers, but besides that nothing moved. Moonlight spilled through the stained glass, but otherwise it was dark. The shadows did not stir here, however. There would be no ghosts.

“Seat her in the pew,” Phoebus told Merida, gesturing to the last row, right in front of the altar. Phoebus moved towards it, striking a match laying near one of the candelabras and lighting it. The flames jumped to life, casting a golden glow over Belle--though she still looked white as a sheet, sweat beading on her brow. He had not realized quite how sick she was. Perhaps that would work out well for him. She’d never survive the exorcism in this state.

Collateral damage indeed.

“I really am very sorry about all this,” Phoebus cooed at her, taking a few steps closer.

Belle’s eyes flashed. “Stay away from me.” She wiggled her shoulders, even though it was very clearly a feeble attempt to get away.

“Do you have your phone, love?” Phoebus reached forward to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, but Belle jerked her head away. He let his hand drop with a little frown. “I fancy a chat with your demon husband. Merida, check her pockets.”

MERIDA: Merida tasted bile, seeing Phoebus touch Belle like that. The urge to grab his wrist and twist it-- knee him in the groin just to watch him whine like the pig he was-- nearly overwhelmed her. She clenched both fists and bit down hard on a growl that threatened to come outta nowhere--

She imagined her fangs ripping out his throat.

It scared her. Scared her enough that Merida didn’t step forward or mouth off at all, but she stepped back, swallowing the growl roughly as the world tilted around her for a moment.

She’d not felt… for so long, there had been nothing but fog. The fog only lifted in her dreams, and so she had believed the curse was contained there and in a longing she’d never answer. But here it was, a second from ripping through her skin. Merida breathed in. She still had her knife. She could press the tip of it into her wrist, just enough to draw blood and silence the howling.

But she didn’t want to draw Phoebus’s eye or his suspicion. She’d been dead lucky so far that she’d managed to evade his scrutinization and she knew it was only because he was obsessed with this mission instead.

So Merida breathed and let Phoebus get away with his behavior, even if she wanted to bite off his hand too.

She swallowed again, took another second, and then moved forward, keeping her eyes off Phoebus as she dug through Belle’s pockets. She didn’t look Belle in the face either. There’d be no point. She already had Belle’s hatred slashed into her, a different kind of knife.

She got out the phone and handed it to Phoebus. “She won’t call ‘im,” she informed him, knowin’ enough about Belle to know that. He might as well not waste his time.

(And she didn’t want to see him-- touch her. Taunt her. Hit her. Merida had meant what she said when she pledged herself to protect Belle. That loyalty churned through her, nearly as powerful as the urge to maul Phoebus in front of them both.)

PHOEBUS: “She’s right,” Belle threatened, lifting her chin. Her eyes flashed, glinting like a flash of lightning.

It was admirable that she looked so brave. None of her bravery mattered, however. It didn’t stir Phoebus’ heart. He cared for nothing except the fact that Clemens was far from this place. That his ghosts could not enter here. Neither could Hades’. It was blissfully, peacefully quiet. He could pause properly for the first time in days. Everything was falling right into place. The only possible contingency was—Hades not coming. Hades, the ever-practical, heartless demon, not coming for his little Mundus wife. The theory as to why he would? If not for her, for the demonspawn. Whatever he was cooking in Belle’s womb meant something to him. The evil there he had spent all this time tending to.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking you to,” Phoebus told Belle with a saccharine smile.

“Passcode?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because otherwise I’ll have Merida cut off one of your pretty little thumbs to use to open it. And it would really be a shame to rob a mother of one of her thumbs.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Zero five zero six,” Belle finally said.

Phoebus typed in the code and opened her contacts. Hades was right there at the top. He pressed his name, holding the phone up to his ear and rocking back on his heels slightly. It rang and rang and rang and rang.

Voicemail.

Phoebus scowled and hung it up before redialing.

Voicemail.

“What kind of man doesn’t answer his phone when his wife calls three times?” he hissed in annoyance, shooting a glare at Belle as if this was her fault.

“A demon,” Belle said plainly, but as Phoebus turned to look at her, there was a twinkle in her eye.

“Bitch,” Phoebus snarled back. His gaze snapped to Merida. “Let’s get your knife on that pretty neck again. I’m no photographer, but the glint of light off the blade against that pale skin? The contrast will make for a beautiful picture.” He held up the phone to get a better shot, waiting for Merida to do as she was told, his gaze drilling into her until she moved so he could make sure nothing that would identify Merida was in the frame. He smiled again, feeling giddy and light.

So close. A year of work. So close.

“Smile.”

Click. Went the camera shutter.

“Perfect, thank you, ladies,” Phoebus complimented them both as he opened Hades’ contact once again and sent the picture, along with a text: You have twenty minutes.

Then, he ambled towards the pew and sat down next to Belle, heavy enough to shake the bench and make Belle wince. “You want to take bets on if he shows or not?” He tilted his head a little, close enough that his breath stirred strands of Belle’s hair. Close enough to see the sweat in her hairline, the blue veins along her cheek. She really was tragically beautiful, wasn’t she? If only Phoebus had gotten to her before that demon.

She didn’t look at him. This time, she didn’t even flinch at his proximity.

Phoebus turned his head to look up at Merida, giving her a broader, more genuine smile—manic, some might call it, but Phoebus would just say: triumphant.

MERIDA: Merida still clutched the knife in her hand.

She clutched it as though it were a long, black claw extending from her knuckle. Her eyes drank in the sight of Phoebus’s jugular. A voice inside her, animal and wordless but a voice nonetheless, told Merida that if Phoebus touched Belle again, she would slice her claw across that throbbing artery and paint the pews with his blood.

Her gut told her there were things he was not telling her, there were lies her mentor had weaved thinking her a simple woman, not realizing that Merida had become something else-- and she could smell his lies like she could smell the sweat on the back of Belle’s neck.

HADES: Across town, Hades’ phone buzzed again and again. He ignored it with great difficulty--mostly because this meeting had gone on too long and he was bored out of his brain.

On the third ring, though, he began to worry. It was a scratch-scratch-scratch in the back of his brain.

It buzzed again and under the table, Hades slipped it from his pocket and turned it over. Belle’s name lit up the screen. A text.

He opened it quietly there at the table, then calmly turned off the screen, and pocketed the phone again.

“I have to go,” said Hades abruptly. He smiled at the board members and said as his explanation, with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Pregnant wife.”

He gathered his things and walked out the door. As soon as it was shut behind him, Hades broke into a run, and halfway down the hall, vanished into shadow.

MERIDA: “So nice of you to text the address!”

Hades’ voice rang through the cathedral in ominous echo and Merida whirled round to see him there at the end of the long aisle, door open from where he’d stepped in. It had been only six, seven minutes since Phoebus sent the text. A nothing amount of time if you asked Merida, and so the sight of him kicked up her adrenaline and she clenched her knife.

The wolf laid back down to make room for her instead-- warrior, knight-- a girl who knew supernatural when she saw it, let alone sniffed it.

Hades strolled down the aisle. “You’ll move away from her now, the two of you. I’m not your average demon.” He lifted his hand and the flame licked the air. “My powers work just fine here.”

PHOEBUS: It was very hard to get your hands on a gun in England, as it should be—according to Phoebus and the rest of the Order. Guns were messy, new-fangled things. Swords were cleaner, more holy. They had ancient rites written into them. However, sometimes, guns very much came in handy—according to Phoebus and not the rest of the Order.

A bullet could incapacitate a demon far better than a sword, enough that an exorcism could be performed on the prone body before it had time to re-awaken. A bullet could make a demon think twice about attacking.

It was very hard to get your hands on a gun in England, but if you were a police officer, with access to the gun safe—it was very easy.

Phoebus had not expected Hades so quickly. He had thought that he would skid into the cathedral at the last moment, making for a lovely dramatic entrance—if he deigned to show up at all. If he didn’t, well, it would be back to the drawing board. But Hades manipulation (devotion?) to Belle was one of the things that made this case so strange. Phoebus had never seen an incubus or demon act that way towards the object of its manipulation. And he had seen this story play out time and time again.

Which was why he’d decided on the cathedral. Everyone knew that demons’ powers did not work on holy ground.

So, when the little blue flame jumped into being—Phoebus’ eyes went wide, but they narrowed just as quickly. An unforeseen hurdle, but no less. Hades had come for Belle, which meant she or the baby meant something to him. And that was all the assurance that Phoebus needed. Now he knew that Hades was not completely powerless too. If he was a demon, he was a very stupid one. He could’ve hid that fire until the perfect moment.

Phoebus was not going to let him get that chance.

Roughly, he grabbed Belle by the bicep and dragged her up out of the pew. She stumbled, but Phoebus’ grip on her arm was strong enough to keep her upright. He pressed her flush against his own chest. His other hand twisted behind his back to the gun, which he pulled from its hiding place and pushed against Belle’s temple in one swift motion.

“Would you like to test them against my reflexes?” Phoebus snarled. “Now, play nice and perhaps we will consider letting your little pawn go.”

HADES: His eyes flicked, once, to the shadows on the ground. Then up again, his flame still flickering in his hand. Otherwise he was stone still and silent as his brain churned. It ran quickly through all the scenarios--

He could grab Merida. Hostage for hostage.

He could try to shadow-jump and end up behind Phoebus.

He could burn the fucking cathedral to the ground.

None of these options guaranteed Belle’s safety. It took a twitch of the finger and the gun would go off and Hades didn’t know if he could bank on Phoebus not being a complete monster and shooting a pregnant woman-- considering he’d already kidnapped her and had a gun loaded to her head. She’d be dead in a second, their daughter dead several minutes after. He could not enter Limbo; he knew there was no Limbo here.

Surrender was option four, one Hades rarely entertained, but this time it floated so easily to the top of the list.

And Hades got-- calm. The blue flame flickered again, but grew low, its eerie light drawing itself back…

Merida, however, wasn’t so calm.

“Oi! What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed at Phoebus. “He’s here, isn’t he? It worked, he came, let Belle go!”

His fire jumped back to life. Hades raised his eyebrows. “Trouble in the ranks, Officer? Did your lackey not read your memo?”

“You shut it!” Merida snarled.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus could taste the victory on his tongue.

How the Order would praise him. Taking out two demons at once? It was almost unheard of more or less on one’s own. (Merida half-counted, she was but a Knight and a woman besides. Everyone would know that this was Phoebus’ triumph.) Most demons took a group to kill, if there was more than one, and only experienced demon hunters managed without assistance to take down one demon by themselves. Though, of course, one of those demons was enwomb and there would be the death of a Mundus on his hands, but if he could take down whatever the fuck Hades was? (Clearly a level four, at least, perhaps a five—Phoebus had no idea if ‘opening the Gates of the Hell’ was even quantifiable.) The Order would sing his praises.

It was the perfect hunt to round the year off with (even if a few weeks late), just in time for the Tourney to choose the new king. Phoebus the Demon Slayer would not entertain much opposition.

And what was more—if he won King, perhaps Clemens’ ghost would be put to rest, since his death would not have been in vain.

Phoebus could see all of this right in front of him as he watched Hades’ flame diminish. He could see in the demon’s eyes that he was calculating, and he knew that it was hopeless. If he wanted to save his little wife—or his demonspawn—the only way to do so would be surrender.

His eagerness was so tangible, he almost felt trigger happy with it. He just needed Hades to take a few steps forward, right into range—so that he would not miss. Phoebus could already see the finish line, see passed it to the Tourney and his victory there as well. Could see himself being crowned King, Duchess his Queen. (Even if it was really his father would be crowned, Phoebus’ delusions of grandeur did not stop at murdering Belle. No, they ran far deeper. A father was not so different from a cousin, after all.)

Belle trembled against him, her hand squeezing pathetically weak at the wrist wrapped around her shoulders. “Hades,” she whimpered—sounding scared for the first time.

The demon’s name was hidden beneath Merida’s growl. Phoebus snapped his head towards the girl, his lips turned immediately into a scowl as from the corner of his eye, he saw Hades’ flame jump higher, banishing the finish line to the shadows, the demon’s hope restored.

“He hasn’t surrendered yet, you idiot girl,” Phoebus snarled at Merida.

As quickly as he glanced at her, he looked back at Hades—making sure the demon hadn’t taken another step on his watch. “So, surrender, and we’ll let her go.”

“Hades, d-don’t listen. He’s lying,” Belle said, her voice cracking, but it was stronger than he suspected, since he could feel her shaking.

“Shut up,” Phoebus hissed, lowering his head to press his cheek to the top of her head, the muzzle of the gun still flush with her hair. “Not another word.”

HADES: Of course the man was lying. Villains always did-- Hades should know. He was one.

But he didn’t have any bargaining chips of his own. Phoebus had cornered him. Phoebus had outsmarted him. There was no point trying to deny it, though to Hades’ meager credit it was Merida in the end who had outwitted Hades-- Merida who was a plant and a spy, her duality more clever than he would have ever thought of such a girl, who had a rough, loud laugh and the kind of straightforward nature he’d never expect to be a cover for this. Phoebus had failed, in the meantime, to stay hidden.

It was Merida who fooled them. And Merida now who might be the wild card and Hades’ only chance.

His eyes once again darted from Phoebus and Belle to Merida, the girl looking surprised-- unhinged. Something was going on under the surface between Merida and Phoebus, a slip in floorboard, a knot Phoebus, himself, did not see.

“I’ll surrender when you stop putting that gun to my wife’s head. Because if you’re going to murder her anyway I might as well set the both of you on fire now. Belle can take a little heat,” he said.

Merida’s eyes widened at that. Ah yes, she cared about Belle. Or the baby-- either way, she wasn’t entirely heartless.

Hades smirked. “Hand her over to your personal assistant to hold onto and I’ll come to you, hands up, no magic.”

And then you can shoot me, Hades thought, as he eyed that gun.

Or you can try.

PHOEBUS: Now, Phoebus didn’t know if Hades’ threat was real or not, but to him—he’d be willing to take the chance. Hades had come all this way, somehow arrived in record time, for his little wife. Phoebus would not put it past him to light her on fire, but he hadn’t yet. He cared. That was why he was still here. That was why his flame had flickered low and Phoebus had almost had him in his clutches just a moment ago.

It didn’t make any sense, but there was no time to wonder.

If anything, it just worked to his advantage.

His head tilted, lifting up off of the top of Belle’s, as if he was considering.

“And why should I trust you? If you’re so eager to set your wife ablaze, what is to say as soon as she’s out of my grasp, you don’t use your magic on me—uncaring if she gets hurt or not? Maybe I should just do away with her now and shoot you next. Plenty of bullets for that.”

HADES: “Then I definitely will set you on fire. You’ve seen me spontaneously combust an entire river before. Distance isn’t a challenge,” he taunted and glared, and he knew he would. If Belle dropped, the church would go up. It’d take a blink and the sound of his heart breaking. Broken hearts made excellent kindling.

“Enough!” Merida barked. Her wild eyes were darting back and forth between Phoebus and Hades. He noticed how knuckle-white she’d gone, gripping the knife.

Her eyes settled, though, on Phoebus-- not him.

“Stop usin’ a pregnant mundus woman as your hostage and puttin’ her unborn babe in danger! That’s disgraceful and you know it! Face him like a man-- fight him like a Prince!” she declared and pointed Hades’ way. “We never talked about ye puttin’ a damn gun ‘gainst Belle’s head!”

“Yeah Phoebus, c’mon mate. Let’s solve this like men. Which I guess means hitting things with big pointy sticks,” mocked Hades. He snuffed his fire but spread his arms.

He knew it made himself an even larger target. So did the mocking.

But even just as second with that gun on Hades, instead of Belle, earned him a second more than he had now.

And who knows? Fates have pity on him, maybe the shadows would take Hades before the bullet did.

PHOEBUS: At first, Phoebus glared at Hades. Blue to unearthly blue. His threat would not go unheeded. Phoebus knew that demons had no morals or honor and nothing he said could be trusted, but he also knew they had irresistible bloodlust and it would not be above him to set him aflame with a thought.

He had to recalculate. Phoebus has not planned on Hades having his magic. He was supposed to be near-incapacitated by the holy ground. He wasn’t. The bastard still had his pyrokinesis. Perhaps his telekinesis too. Phoebus couldn’t be too sure.

His hand adjusted its grip on the gun as he thought. Recalculated. It would be best to shoot Hades first. Belle could not defend herself. He could give her to Hades and shoot them both as they turned to leave.

And then, Merida snarled.

Phoebus’ gaze snapped towards her, his own face twisted in fury. The dumb bitch was making this ten times more difficult. Phoebus should’ve known that this would be the case. What he got for working with a woman to start. She had played house with Belle, had gotten her here, but he should’ve made her leave. He saw that now. Mistake after mistake. He was supposed to be cleaner than this. Better than thing.

Hades spoke again and Phoebus’ head whipped back towards him, though he was half-paying attention to Merida again.

“Shut up, the both of you. Or I swear on the Lord I’ll shoot her right now.” His head shook like a dog with water in his ears. “This girl is far from innocent, Merida. She carries an unholy, powerful spawn. It goes against God and all that is good. It’s not a baby, it’s a demon. Getting rid of them is what we planned. Now stop your whinging and help me kill the bastard. Or are your weak emotions going to take over? We don’t have time for a woman’s remorse. Princes do not have sympathy for women who lie with demons.” His hand knitted in Belle’s hair, yanking it back so that she cried out.

His attention snapped back to Hades. “Who would you rather go first? You or her?”

MERIDA: She carries an unholy, powerful spawn.

It’s not a baby, it’s a demon.

Getting rid of them is what we planned.

Phoebus had lied to her. With each one of his spitting words, he revealed those lies as a cold crept over Merida, a feeling she’d had before, a feeling, sometimes, she felt she had been born with. It came from looking someone face-to-face and watchin’ them let you down. Her father had let her down before in a manner quite similar. Her uncles, her cousins, her friends. Everywhere Merida looked for someone to believe in her, she only found liars and cowards.

And so it didn’t feel like a surprise. It felt inevitable. Phoebus had lied. He had never intended to try to save Belle at all, she saw it clear-- he’d shoot Belle in the head as soon as he could, then wipe his barrel clean and go have a beer. He thought that made him stronger than her.

It actually just made him stupid.

That wild, savage voice in her quieted then. It did not growl, it did not snarl or ask for Phoebus’s blood. It was Merida who was in complete control then, the same sort of control she had when she laced a bow and locked eyes on her target. It took a crack eye, a steady hand, and an instinct to know when to let the arrow go.

Merida laced her arrow now as she sucked her teeth like the annoyed, wild girl who showed up to Phoebus’s practices and mouthed off. She glared-- rolled her eyes-- scoffed. “I’m not weak,” she retorted and let Phoebus think he’d won her.

“Well then. If I really get a choice--” started Hades, drawing Phoebus’s eye back to him.

And that was the moment Merida released her arrow. She moved with the strength and speed of a wolf. Her hand grabbed the barrel of the gun and shoved it to the ceiling as the other twisted Phoebus’s wrist. It was enough to give Belle a second.

“RUN!” she hollered at Belle.

BELLE: There was little Belle could hear over the sound of her heart beating, her blood rushing in her ears. Since he had arrived, she’d not taken her eyes off of Hades. He’d barely looked at her—and she knew why—but she’d drank him in, so close, yet so far. She wished he hadn’t come. She was so glad he was there.

For once, she didn’t know what to do—how to save them. Any of them (her, Hades, Opal.) The desperation clawed at her heart, but between the panic and the tourmaline and the adrenaline, she didn’t have thought in her head besides please. She didn’t know who she was asking. Some long-dead god? Some fate? Some destiny? This couldn’t be theirs, she thought. They had suffered too much for this.

And then, she thought, that she hoped Hades died first, if it came to it. She’d rather save him from the pain of losing his wife and daughter. At least she’d only lose him. Opal would survive longer than her, at least she could give her that.

It should make her calm, she supposed, but that was not how she felt. She felt like exactly what she was—trapped, helpless, useless, so stupid.

Belle wanted to live, she wanted to meet their daughter, she wanted Hades to meet their daughter. The idea that any of that wouldn’t come to pass froze her with fear, kept her perfectly still. The muzzle of the gun was cool against her head. She could smell whiskey on Phoebus, beneath the scent of his awful cologne.

And she could hear her heart beating fiercely in her ears. Not yet, not yet—it woosh-wooshed.

Something jerked—and for the sharpest flash of a second, Belle had thought the gun had gone off, she thought that she’d feel the impact and then—nothing.

“RUN!” was what she heard instead, the command like a bolt of lightning striking through her.

It was just enough to propel her forwards as her heart clenched in her chest. Her wild gaze searched for Hades, but the darkness of the Cathedral bled around her, the edges going fuzzy. She stumbled one, two steps, her legs like jelly, barely listening to her brain. She couldn’t breathe. Before she could stop herself, she was pitching forwards, heading right for the stone floor.

Behind her, the gun discharged, and stone rained down over them all like snow.

PHOEBUS: “NO!” bellowed Phoebus, just as Merida slammed into him. His hand clenched instinctively as he braced himself to throw her off. And normally—he would be able to throw her off. He had wrestled with Merida since she was a tot, and more so recently. He knew exactly how much strength she had. He had trained her himself.

This was not her normal amount of strength.

His eyes went wide as his body stumbled from the sudden impact and Merida peeled his arm off of Belle as if she was opening the lid of a can. Belle managed to slip from his grasp and Phoebus’ face twisted in anger.

The gun went off much on accident as Phoebus tried to jerk his hand back and away from Merida.

“What are you doing, you bitch?” he snarled, practically spitting in her face. “I’m not the enemy. You’re going to get us both killed!” His knee came up to her gut, his hand twisting out of her grip as she bent to the pain of the blow. He reached up and snagged the gun from his other hand, waving it wildly about, attempting to find Hades in the chaos.

MERIDA: Her own strength surprised her. Like thunder, it roared through her muscles and then exploded, Phoebus’s hand jerking up farther than she anticipated, his wrist in hers feeling strangely thin and fragile, reminding her more of the horsehair of her bow-- bendable, pliable-- than bone. Though she knew it would snap if she twisted just a touch more. And that surprised her too, knowing she could break his wrist. She could break a man’s wrist before-- but this-- this would be easy as breathing.

It surprised her and so did the gunshot. The echo of it rattled through her eardrums, much too close for her liking. It jolted the beast inside.

The beast didn’t like the sound of guns.

The smell of gunpowder made her face twist and her eyes glint.

She barely felt the blow to her stomach, just bent to it as bodies do. It was all instinct. Action, reaction. The gun tore from her hand. She heard the sound of something falling and knew it was probably Belle, Belle not safe, Belle one second away from a bullet put through the brain.

She got her foot between Phoebus’s and she tripped him. The two of them fell with a thud of their own. An animal snarl rose from her lips as she reached for his hand again, to pin the wrist, to squeeze with sheer force the gun from his hand--

Her other went to his neck. If she couldn’t get the gun, she knew who could.

The necklace’s chain snapped as easily as a wrist could.

HADES: Merida had whirled on the man and with her action, the tension in the cathedral had shattered. Its pieces went everywhere-- Merida onto Phoebus, the gun pointing at the ceiling, the bullet discharged somewhere into the walls, Belle stumbling like a blind woman away, and Hades going straight for her too.

She fell. Phoebus and Merida fell. Hades arrived a second too late to catch her but reached down for her anyway, hoisting her roughly to her feet. His hands went straight to her face, his palm smoothly over her tangled hair and pale skin. His eyes conducted a wild, but thorough search of her face for blooms of bruise or blood. But she was untouched, except for the damage of the tourmaline.

“We have to go,” he said to her. As much as he wanted to inspect the rest of her, to sit down and to hold her, there was no time.

And then the gun went off a second time, Hades’ flinch turning quickly into action as he twisted Belle around so she was behind him and shielded.

BELLE: Belle barely felt hitting the ground, her conscious flickering in and out for those few seconds—though instinct had her flinging her arms out to try to catch herself.

What she did feel, however, was a hand on her bicep, jerking her back to her feet with force. For a few moments, she thought it was Phoebus. He’d thrown Merida off and come for her again. And next, he was going to put a bullet through her temple. She lurched, trying to pull away on instinct, even if it meant crashing back down to the ground.

But then—a hand touched her face and she knew that hand. Blinking, she took in Hades’ features as they came into proper focus and she felt some part of her unclench. She wanted to fall into him.

Safe. Safe. She was safe. Opal was safe.

And then, the gun went off again—that semblance of safety ripped away as swiftly as it came. Hades pulled her towards him in a split second, before she could even register what had happened. She stumbled and tensed, her heart jumping right back into her throat.

The echo of the shot petered out and Belle looked up at Hades, her hand reaching for the collar of his shirt, searching his eyes—looking for any trace of pain. “Are you--?” was all she could think to say, the terror had her by the throat.

PHOEBUS: The bullet whizzed right passed the couple, shattering into a column nowhere near them. Only three bullets left. And now—there was no breath in his own lungs, the fall having knocked it out of him. Merida’s fingers brushed his throat and he thought in the confusion, that she was looking to strangle him.

It was much, much worse than that—

He felt the chain of the necklace snap. “No!” he snarled again, his stomach twisting—for the first time that night—in fear. The necklace was his protection. With it, he was immune to the telekinetic tricks of demons. Nothing could touch him. Now, he was exposed—and Merida knew it.

“Traitor!” he snarled at her and thrashed—trying to dislodge her from his hips. His free hand went to her own throat, he’d kill her if he had to. The Order would understand. They did not take kindly to traitors. He should have expected no less from a woman. It was not often that they had loyalty or nobility or common fucking sense.

His fingers wrapped around her neck and they squeezed.

The pain in his wrist would not alleviate, but he refused to drop the gun. It was his only defense against the spectre now. If he could just get Merida off of him—there was a bullet for each of them.

One for the traitorous cunt.

One for the delusional bitch.

And one for the demon responsible for it all.

MERIDA: Merida used to wrestle with her father. They were games of pretend: Merida three times her size and her father the rambunctious pup who showed her his belly, there on the green of Cawdor gardens. She’d climb all over him and shout with the force of her lungs her victory. With her fists raised high in the air, she’d declared herself king-- king of fathers and king of Cawdor Castle.

She knew that he had let her win those games. Now-- this wasn’t a game and Phoebus wouldn’t let her win. But she knew how to fight. If wrestling had taught her anything, it was how to want something so badly, you would fight for it.

So Phoebus thrashed and she steeled her thighs around him. He discharged the gun again. The cathedral echoed with that iron sound. Merida banged his hand back with her own so hard she imagined the itty bitty bird bones of his knuckles crunching into grains of sand.

She raised the necklace away from him with her other hand. He flailed to catch it and when he didn’t get it, his thick fingers found her throat.

Merida choked. Her breath squeezed in her belly, her lungs bursting. And in between her ears it wasn’t the ringing of the gun anymore, but the howling begun, growing louder and louder, closer and closer--

She flailed her hand and threw the necklace behind her. “It’s-- the-- necklace!” she tried to rasp the answer. Her hand now free, she reached for Phoebus’s hand around her neck.

And she fought. She fought to peel every one of those fingers off her, with a strength she knew was not her own, but the beast’s.

She watched how his eyes bulged, reminding Merida of prey.

Her own flashed as her mouth twisted in a snarl.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus watched, his own eyes bulging as Merida pulling his fingers from her neck, one after another. It shouldn’t be possible. Men were stronger than women, just by default. It was the way their bodies were made. Not to mention, Phoebus had been training almost his entire life. Over twenty years—he never missed an exercise. He worked hard every day to keep himself in the best shape possible. He was strong.

Merida was not this strong.

And still, she peeled his fingers back one by one, like snapping the strings a guitar.

It shouldn’t be possible—but it was.

Phoebus’ brain was attempting to recalibrate. If he could not defeat her by brute strength, he could certainly outsmart the dumb broad. This was a lie he told himself, for he knew Merida was sharp as a tack—but he was smarter, older, had been doing this much, much longer. Merida was all brawn. Phoebus was all brains. It was what he had always excelled at. This was why he was glad to fight demons, not dragons.

She peeled his fingers from her throat, but she needed both hands to do it.

Which meant that Phoebus had one shot.

Surprisingly, shooting someone at close range was at times more difficult than at a distance. It could be hard to get the angle correct. But Phoebus knew he needed to get her off of him if he had any chance of taking care of what he needed to. If he could just destabilize her at least, then he could deal with the Acherons—and Merida later.

With a twist of his wrist, Phoebus aimed the gun up and towards Merida, the shot loud and echoing once again.

Blood splattered on his face and he heard Merida give an inhuman growl. The next moment she had sprang off of him.

The moment after that, Phoebus had also jumped to his feet.

He spun on his heel to find the Acherons again. “STOP!” His voice boomed through the nave of the cathedral. “I swear to God I will shoot either of you.”

HADES: The first shot didn’t hit them. He waited for the sharp bite, but it never came. The scuffle behind them continued, Phoebus snarling and Merida gasping. She said something about a necklace, but--

“I’m fine. Let’s go!” Hades hissed. He grabbed Belle’s hand and yanked her into motion.

They stumbled into a clumsy, staggering run, Belle still weak and sick and very, very pregnant. Feet pounded anyway. Down the aisle, halfway to the door, Hades’ eyes scouring the shadows and wondering, wondering if he could take Belle with him--

Another gunshot. Hades flinched and looked over his shoulder. He saw Merida stumble back only to collapse out of view.

He felt a flicker of something in his chest, but didn’t have time to consider what it was. Because Phoebus scrambled up and pointed the gun at them again.

Hades once again shoved Belle behind him. He obeyed the order, his feet, heavy as concrete as he stared back at a manic Phoebus. He looked more monster than Hades ever had-- hair wild, uniform crumbled, and blood spattered across his front.

But he didn’t have his hostage anymore. And Hades remembered what Merida had gasped. Necklace, she said, and Hades decided to take a chance, based on an inkling in his stomach that felt exactly like his sixth sense.

He waved his hand and ripped the gun from Phoebus’s hand. It flew across the church and got lost in one of the pews. Phoebus looked startled. Then scared. Hades smirked.

He reached forward and grabbed Phoebus by the throat with his magic. With his hand extended out, fist white-knuckled with his grip, he moved forward, back down the aisle and toward the choking Prince. Who was the devil now?

“What do you think of me now?” Hades snarled. He forced Phoebus to his knees as he got closer and closer. The candles on the altar lit a ghostly blue. “Do I look like the demon yet? Am I the devil?” He wrapped his powers so thickly and tightly around Phoebus that he couldn’t move his arms.

He arrived in front of him and leaned down so he could spit directly in his face.

“I’m something so much worse,” he told him. And he contemplated Phoebus’s death--Hades’ most familiar friend standing next to them both. He sensed there was a choice here when sometimes there was not. To choke, to burn, to slice Phoebus open--to spare him-- Death waited, silent and patient, for Hades to decide.

Behind him, a different creature rose from the shadows.

PHOEBUS: The gun sprung from his hand as if attached to a string. Phoebus stumbled, more on instinct than anything, as if he had just received a blow. He thought that he might be able to bluff. Hades knew that Phoebus was immune to telekinesis but didn’t know how. Phoebus could hope that Merida had not been able to convey her message. Whether through sheer luck or the sense of some otherworldly creature—Hades called his bluff.

And Phoebus felt the cold trickle of fear. It started as a quiet thing—as silent as a prayer.

Invisible fingers closed around his throat and Phoebus’ hands came up at once, clawing at the nothing of it, desperate and instinctual. He was dizzy even before Hades shoved him to his knees. His brain confused at that point—unable to feel what was choking him, unable to understand why that was. Hades looked just as terrifying as Phoebus knew him to be—that unearthly blue fire bouncing off the stained glass, turning the Cathedral dark instead of warm. Or, perhaps, that was just the blackness creeping into the sides of his vision.

BELLE: Belle had stumbled to a pew as Hades moved off. She got her hand around the side of it and leaned over for a moment, attempting to catch her breath. Realistically, she knew the threat was gone now. Phoebus was unarmed and unprotected from Hades’ powers, which meant there was no way to overtake him.

Still, the fear rushed through Belle. She was dizzy with it. Could feel her hands shaking. So, she pushed back up and gripped at the back of the pew, trying to find the spirit inside of her that had faced off with murderous muses and dragons and shadow creatures galore. She couldn’t find that girl. Instead, she found another as she watched Hades force Phoebus to his knees. She found a vicious, vindictive woman—who wanted to watch Hades snap Phoebus’ neck.

The thought didn’t even startle her. She didn’t look away. Instead, she stood taller. Her gaze was hard and cool. For a few moments, there was no sympathy in her heart, only the thirst for revenge. And not just for this incident, but all the ones that had come before. Belle could see it all now, clicking into place. Phoebus, the officer who had arrested Hades. Phoebus, the officer who had been the first to show up after Shuck’s collar had come loose. All the rumors kicked back up and swirling around Hades. Rumors that had died down considerably when Hades had won his seat on the Board.

Their lives—Hades’ life—potentially ruined by someone who was going to murder him and her and their unborn child in cold blood.

Belle had no sympathy for him.

However, her gaze fell softly on her husband. Even from a distance, even though he kept it contained to the thunderous tilt of his brow—she could see the fury etched into every line of his body. In that same moment, Belle knew that she would not allow her husband to kill Phoebus in cold-blood. (no matter how delicious the sound of Phoebus’ neck snapping would sound in the echo of the cathedral. Later, it would haunt them both.) She knew Hades had killed before--she knew that he had killed just like this, not under threat of attack, but because of his fury. Belle wouldn’t let him this time and she would not have let him if she had been there before.

And this was not because of some higher moral obligation. No, Belle was woman enough to admit that. It was not because there wasn’t some riotous, monstrous part of herself that wanted Phoebus dead. It was not because she thought Phoebus worth saving.

But because she knew that Phoebus’ death would do nothing to clean up their reputation in town. If Hades wanted to salvage any of that, they needed to play the victims. Which meant keeping Phoebus alive, taking the moral high ground. He was just a Mundus anyway. If he was put in jail, there would be little risk of him leaving. He was no longer a threat. It was better to keep him alive. Phoebus was the one who was going to kill them, not the other way around.

“Hades,” she called—her voice soft but ragged--she knew he would hear her regardless.

Don’t. He’s not worth it.

This was what she was going to say, but movement caught her eye.

In the blue of Hades’ candlelight, Merida’s fur shone black—but Belle knew who and what she was at once—and she was stalking right towards Hades.

“Behind you!” she called then, her voice much louder.

Her gaze turned frantically towards the wolf and she moved from the pew into the aisle again, as if she would be able to run fast enough to do anything at all. She knew she couldn’t. Still, she gathered what little strength she had.

“Merida, no!” The command bounced around the walls of the cathedral, echoing much louder than Belle herself was.

HADES: Hades turned at Belle’s voice and had approximately half a second to react to the werewolf that had fucking materialized out of nowhere.

Okay, realistically, in the next five seconds, he’d put together the werewolf was Merida all along. But at first, all he saw was animal and all he thought was animal. The wolf hulked, massive, its fur a rustic red-tinted penny colour with eyes like molten lava. It dripped blood. Hades barked in shock and he literally collapsed back onto Phoebus as the creature lunged with a terrible cry of its own.

His magic lashed out. It grabbed the wolf like it had grabbed the gun and flung the creature into the altar, knocking the whole damn thing over. The werewolf snarled then screeched with pain. When it got up again, it scrambled on clumsy legs like it didn’t know how to use it.

And then it bolted down, toward Belle.

“Belle!” he cried out and was about to toss the wolf against the pews.

But the wolf streaked past Belle, straight for the open door, and out again.

Now it was Hades turned to scramble off Phoebus. He twisted around, grabbed the dazed, gasping corrupt cop by his ruined uniform and then punched him once across the face. It was surprisingly more satisfying than he thought it would be, for someone who had never had to throw a punch before. His knuckles crunched cheekbone. It hurt, but Hades liked it.

He then let Phoebus fall back onto the ground. He got up the rest of the way and jerked Phoebus’s hands above his head in mock surrender.

“You didn’t mention you were working with a fucking werewolf. What the fuck?” Hades panted. He twisted half-round to look at Belle. “Are you okay?”

BELLE: Merida lunged and Hades knocked himself backwards, toppling him and Phoebus both to the ground and out of sight behind the pews. Belle felt her heart jump into her throat the moment Merida’s paws left the ground, her heart sinking—helpless once more—into her stomach.

But Hades managed to toss her into the altar with an awful crash. There was just a moment, just a moment of respite (though, Belle’s heart clenched in her chest at the sound of Merida’s whine—though she wasn’t sure why, she had no pity for the sorrowful, hateful creature.) Then, Merida got up and shook herself off and barreled towards her.

Though this, at least, Belle was not afraid of. She had been stared down, stalked by a werewolf once before. She knew the look in their eye, hungry and focused. As Merida neared, she knew that was not the case—her head was shaking back and forth like she was attempting to fix a ringing in her ears. So, Belle’s heart jumped back into her throat but she did not flinch as the beast blew passed her, fast and powerful enough to ruffle her hair and clothing.

She turned to watch it go, wondering what would become of the girl. If she cared, it was only because there was a rogue wolf on the loose. When all this was over, she should probably call Adam and give him the heads up, (When all this was over, she would forget.)

Her reverie was broken just a moment after it had started (another moment of respite gone), when she heard flesh against flesh and turned—startled—back to Hades and Phoebus. Her breath caught in her throat just before she registered that it was Hades who had thrown the punch, Hades who was still in control of the situation. For a second, she had thought—

Phoebus’ manic laughter filled the cathedral, bouncing off the walls and making Belle shiver and her stomach sicker. She clenched white-knuckled at the pew and wanted to beg for him to stop. But Belle had not begged with a gun to her head and she would not start now.

Instead, she looked to Hades and nodded her head slightly—making her way back towards him slowly, her whole body trembling as the adrenaline began to eek out of her.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, though it was not wholly the truth. “We need to call the police, Hades,” she told him. “I-I don’t know where my phone is. They—” her voice caught, strangled as her throat closed, “—took it.”

HADES: The wolf-- was gone. Phoebus-- had lost. Was manic and laughing, unhinged as Hades expected he had always been under his uniform. And Belle was okay.

For a brief second, Hades just let out a breath and enjoyed that fact for what it was: Belle was okay. Yes, she was still pregnant with a baby that was sucking all of her health from her. Yes, she had been kidnapped and all his fault again. Yes, she’d been held at gunpoint. Knifepoint. The nightmares would keep them both awake.

But in that second, she was alive. Alive, standing, still pregnant, her hair a tangled mess but otherwise alive. If he could just hold onto that, maybe he’d make it to March and see the other side of this.

But he couldn’t. Hold onto it, that is. There was a list of things to do tonight, from the police to the Board to scheduling an appointment with Hera to check the baby-- couldn’t be too careful. And so the second ended and Hades had to go on. That’s how you made it to the other side anyway. Not by holding your breath and waiting for things-- but by going on.

“I’ll call,” he said. He still had his powers wrapped tightly around Phoebus, a hand out to keep it that way while the other dug into his pocket. “Is Opal kicking? Can you feel her?” he asked Belle as he dialed.

If she was kicking, then, at least… at least it would be one good thing.

BELLE: Hades asked about Opal and Belle blinked a little. It surprised her—though, guilt nipped on her heels the next second. In her mild defense, she had just been kidnapped and held at both knife- and gun point, betrayed by someone she had thought of as a dear friend. (For the second time in a handful of months, though really, Berlioz’s betrayal seemed meager to all of this.) In her mild defense, Hades barely took an interest in the baby these days outside of making sure Belle was as comfortable as possible.

So, yes, she blinked a little, and then—with a jolt, realized she hadn’t felt her at all since—the car? Or, perhaps, when the gun had pressed to her temple. She couldn’t remember when the last time was. And Belle, you know, was very diligent at measuring her kick count every day—and Opal was always delighted to participate, if you caught her at the right time. Which was just about now. If Opal wasn’t tap-dancing on Belle’s liver, something was wrong.

Something might be wrong.

Belle put a hand to her stomach, and for the first time in several minutes, focused on her daughter in more than the abstract “save her life” kind of way. She held her breath for a moment, two—

There she went, kicking right against the bottom of Belle’s stomach. Belle’s hand arched down towards the movement as the relief washed over her.

She heard Hades’ voice speaking to the emergency operator, so she took the moment to edge her way back into a pew and sat down, her hand pressed against her daughter’s foot, like she could hold it already. She wished she could count all of her toes.

Belle watched Hades hang up the phone and turn towards her. “She’s—she’s fine, I-I think. Tap-dancing, a-as usual.” She smiled just a little and wanted to reach out for him, but she was terrified for him to come any closer whilst he still had Phoebus in the grip of his powers. Realistically, she knew Hades could probably hold Phoebus steady from across the cathedral and not simply a few pews away, but she did not want to risk it.

Instead, she just slumped down and tilted her head back, looking towards one of the stained-glass windows. A pietà. Belle looked away.

PHOEBUS: Phoebus gave up fighting rather quickly. It was no use against the invisible binds around him, stronger than any rope. Rope, he could wiggle his way out of. Magical binds that defied the logic of physicality? It was impossible.

So, instead, he was quiet and still. He did not try to fight. He began to plot.

In truth, it was not going well. He knew that Hades was too dangerous a target now. With a hunting party, perhaps they would catch him. There was no one Phoebus trusted enough to be smart and steady, to bide their time and strike when the moment was right. The Order was full of impatient, amateur assholes just looking to make an easy kill. Fine. Let Hades live and destroy this town. The people in it were idiots for living within its borders.

His planning turned towards the future. Getting out of prison. He was confident it would happen. Swynlake was not quipped to handle a trial of this caliber. He would be outsourced to a proper jail, a proper prison. A different court system entirely. One that was not magick-friendly. One that would sympathize with his position. His family could hire a perfectly powerful lawyer. He could get acquitted. He could have a vastly reduced sentence. He could break out. The Order knew enough people in the prison system. It was how they continued to operate the way that they did. He was confident he would not be in jail long.

Which left—Duchess. Would she wait for him? He prayed she would. Phoebus would still give her the big beautiful seaside house. A wedding that he would let her busy herself with planning whilst he was dealing with the red tape. He would take care of her still.

Phoebus hardly noticed the handcuffs going onto his wrists or being jerked to his feet. He stayed stony and silent as he left the sanctity of the cathedral and was shoved into the police cruiser, the red-blue lights flashing like the sun spiraling through stained glass.

#bdrphades #bdrpmerida #bdrpbelle #ghostbusters #artemis and apollo #phoebelle #horsenapped #heh #good times

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