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#I wish we all could live in peace but that’s never been reality and will never be reality because this world is terrible
twoelectrichearts · 3 months
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Noah Schnapp is literally beyond evil. Like, spawn of satan level of evil. He only deserves to suffer for the rest of his existence. How dare he have empathy for innocent civilians in Israel and Palestine. First of all, there’s no such thing as innocent Israeli civilians. Second of all, you can't have empathy for both. Especially if he is a Zionist. All the Jewish people who identify as Zionists are evil. Israel has absolutely no right to exist and Jewish people have no right to exist in Israel. So many Jewish people who are Zionists claim that’s what Zionism means to them but they’re wrong. Zionism is pure evil. You can’t be Zionist and want peace and self determination for Palestinians. I’m not Jewish but I definitely know better than the Jewish Zionists who claim that. They’re all evil lying monsters. They want every Palestinian wiped off the face of the Earth. Hamas would never want such a thing. It’s not like they had a charter that said that about Jewish people. Even if they did, they supposedly recently changed it to Zionists instead so it’s all good now. Hamas is totally accepting of Jewish people now and would welcome them with open arms as long as they aren’t Zionist. Noah, if you’re a Zionist, don’t be anymore. You can change your evil ways. Hamas changed. Yeah, they may have killed civilians and taken hundreds hostage, they may have said October 7th was just the beginning and that it was going to happen over and over again, but they’re no longer antisemitic. They’re just anti Zionist so they’re good people now. You can change and be good too. You’re so young. There’s still hope for you. Stop lying and telling us how you want peace and self determination for Palestinians. We all know that’s not true. It can only be true if you aren’t Zionist.
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You liking something like this makes absolutely no sense if you’re Zionist. I bet you don’t even agree with it and just liked it by accident or something. It’s crazy how I even managed to come across this months ago considering nobody talked about it or brought it to light. You liking that sketch of people in the LGBTQ+ community simping over Hamas got so much attention and caused so much outrage though. Funny how the internet works. Anyways, as a bisexual, I was so offended by that video. Hamas are well known LGBTQ+ allies. How could you like that video as someone who’s gay? It’s probably because you’re lying about being gay too. Shame on you.
Last thing I’m gonna say is fuck Israel and fuck Israelis. That country and all the people living there are evil. They’re all colonizers and occupiers. It needs to cease to exist and all the people currently living there need to go back to where they originally came from. All of them came from Europe, right? That’s what I’ve been hearing. They all need to return to Europe. Gosh, why’d they ever leave there in the first place? I know Jewish people say otherwise but they’re wrong. They’re either lying or in denial. They’re not indigenous to Israel. They’re indigenous to Europe. Us non Jewish people really need to educate them more about their own history, religion, ethnicity, etc. We need to teach them what antisemitism actually is. A lot of them don’t seem to understand what it is. We do that to every other minority group that we aren’t apart of, right?
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robinsnest2111 · 3 months
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just listened to penny lane for the first time in years and for a moment I was a young teen again, chest deep in my beatles phase, I know it's hella cringe but the beatles were my happy place at the time, my comfort in a shitty inescapable environment
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everybodysaycbx · 7 months
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#cant sleep...#feels weird that its been 10 years now. shes been gone for so long now but i remember it so well#the pains like a phantom pain tho. i can remember her without crying (tho i am now lol) and not all the memories hurt#but the pain isnt always detatched from the memories. that part of my childhood where she was always there feels......idk how to describe it#im always aware that its gone and sometimes i can live with the reality of it and appreciate my friendship with her#but sometimes the hurt comes back so forcefully and so painfully i want to scream and scream#and sometimes it feels like i am but i was just dissociated for a few hours#my family is still.....unsure of how to act when i exhibit pain about this. idk if its from guilt that they didnt help me initially or...#is it annoyance that this still affects me...maybe both. guess they cant get how my friends suicide when we were in high school would hurt#whether they feel guilty for how they didnt help it doesnt really matter ig bc i know they wont apologize no matter how much id like them to#idk what to do about it tho. i dont think i can just get over that at this point i mean ive waited 10 years#if anyone has advice dm me ig but dont tell me to let it go bc i just cant#ive made my peace with any culpability i have in her death and if her spirit harbors anger with me then thats fine#her family doesnt and has never seemed upset with me so i have no reason to be thinking it but idk. i just couldve done more#but whats done is done and dwelling on what couldve been is a bad road to go on. esp at almost 3 am#i hope and wish for her to be at peace and everyone who loved her to find it if they havent yet#if anyone else has had to go through this too know you can talk to me esp if you dont have anyone else#i had really no one i could talk to about it without feeling like i was burdening everyone else who was in the same situation at the time#and i dont want anyone else to feel like that so. i hope everyones well#otherwise if that doesnt apply to you but you want to cheer me up send me some cute videos or memes or whatever#ive been trying to keep my mind off it for the most part since ive had to work and dont want to have a breakdown there lol#and i have to work tonight so that would be helpful#but anyway i think thats enough of my rambling and depressing thoughts#tw: death#tw: suicide
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fioiswriting · 6 months
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Reunion | oneshot
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Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...
[Part 2]
Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI
Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3
TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.
Words count : 7600
Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever
Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!
Enjoy 🖤
I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron
The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.
For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.
It had been the best solution, you knew. 
For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.
So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.
The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.
You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.
Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.
Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.
During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 
Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.
And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.
But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.
First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 
And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.
You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.
You loved him.
So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.
Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?
Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.
But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.
Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.
It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.
But above all, it was haunted by him.
The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.
You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.
But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.
Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.
On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.
When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.
"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 
You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.
"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.
It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 
Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.
The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.
Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.
At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.
But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.
You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.
One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.
The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.
And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.
You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.
"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 
That voice. It couldn't be.
Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.
It can’t be.
That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.
"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."
The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.
It is impossible.
He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.
Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?
"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.
You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.
His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 
The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.
You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.
He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.
The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.
"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.
He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.
"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 
He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.
He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.
A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 
But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.
"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 
There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 
"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"
"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 
"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.
"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."
The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 
"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.
"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."
Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.
"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 
You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.
"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.
"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."
Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.
You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.
"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."
You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***
Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 
There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.
His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.
"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."
You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.
"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."
His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.
It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.
You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 
The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.
"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.
His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.
Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.
"On your knees then."
The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.
Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 
Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.
His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 
His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.
"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."
You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 
"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.
His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 
He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 
" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.
The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.
"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 
The memory was so close and yet so far away.
Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.
"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.
"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.
"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 
His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 
He doesn't let go of you. 
"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.
His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 
Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 
You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.
In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.
There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.
His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.
He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 
He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.
The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.
"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 
Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.
"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 
You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.
"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."
"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."
Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.
You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.
You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.
He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.
He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 
The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.
" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 
He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.
You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.
You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.
"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.
"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 
You need him. 
When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.
Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.
"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."
The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.
You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.
"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.
Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.
"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."
The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.
I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 
He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.
The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.
When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 
You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.
Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.
And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.
You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.
"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."
When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 
He lets out a hm and pauses.
"Is he yours?"
You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?
"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.
"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"
Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.
You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.
"No, he's not." 
The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.
"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.
You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.
You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 
" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."
You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.
"What did you say?"
You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 
"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.
It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.
Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.
Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.
"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.
"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.
He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.
And this time, he makes love to you.
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 
"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.
"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.
It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.
Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.
"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"
The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.
"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 
He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.
"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 
You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.
You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 
Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.
You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.
"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.
You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 
But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.
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landograndprix · 5 months
Text
「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」
part xv
✧.* adjusting to your new lifestyle has never been easier with lando by your side
✧.* just something peaceful and sweet after the last chapter 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️
✧.* prev part - next part
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y/nusername
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y/nusername summer break(ing bones) ☀
tagged: landonorris
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norry4 well at least you can joke about it 😭
carlandooo good to see you're doing okay! <3
hamilt44n love that the color of your cast matches with your nails 😂
y/nlandooo so happy to see you're doing great and are spending time with your family!
bott_ass please I'm so happy to see you living your farm life again, it's been too long since we got to see the animals 😭
sharl16 I can't explain it but the duck and y/n have the same vibe
landonorris who's that handsome guy?
y/nusername Mickey 🐴
landonorris I wasn't talking about the horse
y/nusername well I am..
norrizz pls get married, have babies, grow old together, stay together forever 😭😭😭
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y/nusername posted to their story
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y/nusername
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y/nusername with the man of the house 🐱
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yukisan wish I could spend all day in bed..
hamilt44n girl we don't get to see what she does all day and so what, give her a break 💀
norrizz my girl is chilling like she should!
maxmaxmax oh to be an animal in y/n's household :(
landonorris that should be me in your bed
y/nusername shouldn't have fled the country then
landonorris someone's gotta make a living..
landoscar girl it's in the middle of summer why you cuddled up in thick blankets 😭
norry4 man of the house? Lando has left the chat 😂
grussell63 something tells me lando doesn't have a say in this house 😂
landonorris you're right
grussell63 im sorry 😭😭
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y/nusername
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y/nusername 🧜🏻‍♀️
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maxmaxmax now who's idea was it to have a boat day knowing damn well y/n can't go in the water with her cast 😭
fewtrelllando the besties back together once again 🥰
julieeeexo couldn't they find something else to do..idk, something that can be done with a cast lmfao
y/nusername it was my idea and I did dip my feet in the water, that was enough to cool me down 😉
norry4 don't know why y'all are freaking out, let them do their thing
cecilemoulin great great great great great day ❤️
maxfewtrell did you have a great day?
bott_ass good to see y'all back together, I was getting worried 😭
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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig @for-our-moony @sadg3 @gaslysainz @goldenharrysworld @okqur @baw-sixteen @dark-night-sky-99
Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05
-> tags further in the comments
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beawake · 6 months
Text
Now that I've had some time after the live show, we need to talk about Caleb’s (Liam's) lvl 20 wizard choices.
First of all, the second ninth level spell. I never would have thought Caleb would take Wish. The temptations you know. But now the fact that he did says a lot about his growth and his trust in himself.
Wish could have easily been a plan B for Caleb, if time travel never worked out. So the fact that he trusts himself enough not to possibly break reality, it shows that he has been able to make his peace with his parents dead. He has accepted their fates as what it is and won't try or won't be tempted to undo it again.
(Also I understand the Wizard greed of having wish to basically have access to every other spell, and simulacrum is fun for double timing your hot purple boyfriend probably)
Secondly, Fortunes Favor is such a telling spell to take as level one cantrip. And for Caleb it is so important! Besides the implications with Essek (it's the first Dunamancy spell he learnt) and the influence Essek and Dunumancy have on him as a wizard and person. It is the token spell of second chances. Of changing reality and the past in small but powerful and meaningful ways. It is such a big spell to protect his friends. He loves his friends so much.
Anyways yeah, Liam made some very powerful and good choices and I love this dirt wizard.
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goodnightmemes · 6 months
Text
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ I'm sorry for your loss, your...your losses, rather. ❜
❛ Nobody gets away with anything. Not really. ❜
❛ Don't lecture me about family values. You're just as shit in that department as I am. ❜
❛ That day was the last day we were all in the same place. Alive. ❜
❛ They will love you because I love you, and the only thing stronger than love is how scared they are of getting cut out of the will. ❜
❛ And most people go their whole, wasted, stupid lives without one minute of true resolution. Not me though. ❜
❛ You know what a resolution is? It's a deal you make with the future. ❜
❛ The people in charge of making us healthy make us sick. We cheat the dying. We fleece the poor. Promote the racist. Let the demons run amok. This world needs changing. ❜
❛ You're supposed to be shadowing me. Shadows don't fucking talk. ❜
❛ This is beneath you. And you're going to kill it. But you're better than all of this. And the minute you figure that out, you're going to be unstoppable. ❜
❛ There's no such thing as a step back. You go forward. If you hit a brick wall, you don't go back, you go through. ❜
❛ Nearly realized is the sweetest. It's better, I promise, in the moment just before than in the moment after. ❜
❛ You are consequence. And tonight, you are consequential. ❜
❛ You are a pretty, pretty little thing. ❜
❛ You wonder why people hate us. This is why. ❜
❛ Everybody knows that edible arrangements are what you send to people you hate. ❜
❛ If you start thinking this is reality, you'll just slip into the abyss. ❜
❛ We can talk about it after because I've had a shit day and I really just wanna starfish and forget the world. ❜
❛ Don't talk to me until I've come at least twice. ❜
❛ I love how deliciously, pointlessly mean you lot can be. ❜
❛ You still didn't need to come here though. It could have happened quiet. Peaceful. In bed. But I guess it's got to happen like this. ❜
❛ It's amazing how far you can get on denial. You know why so many people use denial to get by? Because it really fucking works. ❜
❛ You can't enhance this image? You see it all the time on TV. They hit a button, it enhances it. ❜
❛ I don't even own anything funeral black. ❜
❛ Satin is silk for poor people, no one should wear it to a funeral, unless they died in it. ❜
❛ Nobody knows they're the fall guy until they're falling.❜
❛ Women are the natural leaders of the species. Ancient Egypt had it right. ❜
❛ Okay, just because the door's open doesn't necessarily guarantee you a seat at the table. ❜
❛ You're not who I thought you were. ❜
❛ I really didn't want to think it, but...you're all fucking monsters. ❜
❛ Watching you shit on your principles would have been worth every fucking penny. ❜
❛ The mind of guilt is full of scorpions. And I wouldn't wish their sting on anyone. ❜
❛ Don't have to be smart to be dangerous. I'm not scared of rattlesnakes 'cause they're so smart. ❜
❛ You're so out of touch with your human side...you can't even listen to anything outside your own head. ❜
❛ I haven't seen you sleep in like...I mean, it's been a fucking long time. Like, horror movie long. ❜
❛ Life is insane. It is madness. The sooner you understand that, the better off you'll be. ❜
❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜
❛ All these terrible things and I thought, that's when people come together. But we've never been further apart. ❜
❛ Tell me it's worth it. Tell me you know the risk and I'll be there with you. I'll back you up. Just tell me. ❜
❛ Shut your mouth, get your shit together. The fuck is wrong with you? ❜
❛ Men, when they think they're immortal, all they want to do is fuck. When they figure out they're going to die, all they want to do is fuck. ❜
❛ It just makes you think, you know, life is so fucking short. ❜
❛ You don't have to be a tyrant, but if you don't want to be consistently cruel, then you have to be sufficiently brutal at least once to establish authority. ❜
❛ I thought it was an act. I figured you just played the housewife so you could keep a roof over your head. Spread your legs or suck his dick twice a week and you're set. You never have to work a day in your life. And I thought, "Good for her, she found her angle," but...this is really you. Isn't it? ❜
❛ Words got us into this, words can get us out. ❜
❛ You're a collection of impeccable, elaborate masks in orbit of a stunted heart. ❜
❛ There are certain things one shouldn't have to face in life. Time enough for self-reflection after. ❜
❛ I don't normally like to get my hands this dirty, but honey, you earned it. ❜
❛ I see you now. I look at you and I see... You. The poverty of you. ❜
❛ The real world is Darwinian. Survival, chaos, power. Leverage. ❜
❛ You feel it. In the air. We're sitting outside of time and space. ❜
❛ This is the moment luck meets opportunity. ❜
❛ In the ancient world, we'd seal this with blood, or spit. And then later, papyrus. But, a deal's a deal all over the world. ❜
❛ We're a... virus, I think. People, I mean. ❜
❛ But everyone loves something. And in that love there's collateral. ❜
❛ I say this with love. Let it go. Let it all go. ❜
❛ So I say, we stand tall and proud. Bill's come due. Let's not hide here in the basement like we've got something to be ashamed of. No. Not us. You and me against the world. ❜
❛ It may not have been perfect, but you can't say we didn't change the world. How many people can say that at the end? ❜
❛ I knew I would climb to the top of the tower on a pile of corpses. ❜
❛ It don't matter in the end why you did any of it. I don't fucking care why you did it. We don't want your confession, or your rationale, or your explanation. ❜
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writingoddess1125 · 5 months
Text
In Another Life
Depression Time!!
Trafalgar Law x FemReader
Sadness, Angst, Death. And More Saddness!
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Support me on Ko-Fi! Gotta survive to write more!
Wrote this while watching a movie- can probably guess the movie..
'Law! You have to promise me, when we get married we get a kitten' You giggled at your long term . The two of you holding hands as you walked through the meadows next to the secret base.
Law bristled at your words, remembering his own parents and the happiness they shared- but also the heartache he experienced thinking of them. The two of you looking to each other-
'Why do you say that?'
'Cause kittens are cute?- especially ones with gray fur and blue eyes' He cut you off with an annoyed scoff.
'No the marriage thing? Why would you think I'd marry you!?' His words harsh and rude which made you flinch.
'Law.. We aren't long for this world- we have already spent most of our lives together then seperate.. I'd want to spend the rest of it with you' You said so softly, confuses by his tone. Law yanking his hand away from you in false anger.
'Then I shouldn't waste my time in doing something stupid like marriage' He said annoyed. Your eyes filling up with tears, you didn't say a word. Instead walking away from him- he didn't stop you. Assuming you had just went to clear your mind from the harsh reality- but he didn't expect you to never return at all...
He should have know... he should have truly heard her words when she said she waan't long for this world...
That had been years ago.. he hadn't heard or seen (Y/N) since. Truthfully he regretted that so much- his world ever darker since that day.
At night he would wince when he thought back on his words before sleep- his dreams filled with the life he should have had with her if he wasn't so angry at the world.
It had been a few days ago however when he'd gotten a letter- recognizing your handwriting so well. But he never could have even guessed the words on those pages- asking to see him again before (Y/N) passed... a illness no one could treat claiming her life and taking her away soon.
Running to her home, he went to the hospital she was in- entering the room with a heavy heart knowing what was on the other side.
Law had always been a man of few words, but as he stood by (Y/N)'s side one final time, a thousand emotions wrestled within his heart. Her form weakened by the ravages of time, lay in a bed adorned with soft blankets that him and others had brought for her, her frail hand clasped in Law's strong grip.
"I wish we had more time," Law murmured, his voice heavy with regret.
(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shimmering with love as the light began to fade from them. "We've had a lifetime of memories, Law. I am grateful for the time we've shared."
Her words struck Law like a blade to the chest, as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill. His hardened exterior cracked, and vulnerability seeped through the cracks.
"I often dreamed of a life together, you know," Law confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "A quiet house by the sea, with our children running through the sand. We would sit on the porch, holding hands and watching the sunset."
Her expression softened with reminiscence, her voice a gentle melody. "That sounds like a beautiful lofe, Law. A life filled with love and peace."
Law's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting moments they had left. "I would have given anything to make that dream a reality. To protect you, to see you smile every day."
(Y/N) lifted her free hand and gently caressed Law's cheek. "You have already given me so much, Law. The love you have shown me is more than I could have ever asked for."
Tears rolled down Law's face, his breathing uneven as he held back sobs. "If you'd had told me- I could have save you! protect you from the cruelty of this world. But..."
Her touch provided a soothing balm to Law's tortured soul. "You gave me a life filled with adventure, love, and purpose. Our time together has been a gift, Law.. even if it had to end like this."
Law lowered his head- sitting next to her as his tears started to drip onto the bed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. (Y/N) despite her weakened state, gathered her strength and pulled Law into a tender embrace. They held each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room like an unspoken song.
As the sun began to set, its warm glow bathing the room in a golden light, Law whispered his final words into her ear. "I will carry your love within me until my last breath, and beyond. You have forever changed me, and our love will have another day."
(Y/N)'s touch grew feeble, her breathing shallow. She mustered the strength to raise her gaze to meet Law's tear-stained eyes. "Thank you for loving me, Law. I will always be with you, in your heart."
With those tender words, (Y/N) slipped away, leaving Law alone in a world forever altered. He held her lifeless hand, his despair mingling with the emptiness in his chest as loud desperate cries ripped through his soul.
Law sat in the inn, staring at the empty bottles infront of him- his chest feeling hallow and full of regret. Part of him wanting to walk into the sea and return to his love.. see her smiling face one last time-
Rolling himself up from his seat, he stumbled out of the bar- the alcohol making his brain fuzzy and uneven as he was met with the cold night air. His mind drifting to the sea... maybe he would see (Y/N) on the other side- his family.. love out that fantasy the two of you had always wished for.. one that he was too stupid to realize was more important than anything else-
As he walked down to the peir, his mind only of his regrets in life.
He looked out on the ocean, his legs felt like they were lead and he wanted to jump in and let the Goddess claim him- till the sound of his name drew him back. Looking to see a man in a suit rushing to him with a box and crate in tow.
"You there! Are you Trafalgar Law?"
"Yeah what's it to you?" Law grumbled-
"Ah Sir. Im Wallace J, Lawyer for (Y/N)- You were listened in ger will fkr everhthing including her home but (Y/N) had left some items that needed to be personally handed to you- oh and this" The man said calmly as he gestured to the crate.
Law looked confused by this and nodded, taking the box and opening it. There his heart broke for a second time that day- there was several letters, with his name on it- he knew (Y/N) hand writing too well to say these were from anyone else.. paired with the dried flower ring he had made her years ago when the two of them were children, with other sentimentalthings from his childhood. The lawyer holding out a letter that had been separated from the box. The doctor quickly taking it and reading it-
My Darling Law
As I write this letter, I want my time with you in this world has come to an end. But i want you to know that my love for you is unwavering, and my deepest wish is for your happiness. Life is a journey filled with twists and turns, and in those moments when I may not be by your side, I implore you to seek joy and love.
Find someone who fills your soul, someone who understands and cherishes the beautiful person you are. Embrace love, laughter, and companionship with another. Life is too short to settle for anything less than genuine happiness.
Remember, your life is precious and unique, and your happiness is what I want the most for you.
So while I can't be there to be on that journey, I still want you to walk thay path. I know you are hurt, and im sorry i was the one who caused it.. but I hope this little guy can give you just a bit of love to you while you find your way.
I love you Law, to the end of the stars and back.
Forever yours, (Y/N)
The doctor gave a breathy sigh as a sob threated to spill from him. Setting the box down as he looked to the crate, Opening it slowly and tears rolled down at the sight.
A gray kitten with sleepy blue eyes mewed at him- Law reaching forward and picking up the little thing. Remembering the words when the two of shared long ago.
'When we get married- you better get me a kitten. One with gray fur and blue eyes'
The lawyer watching in empathy, watching the man before him crumble and fall to his knees as he held the kitten in his arms.
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lurkingshan · 3 months
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I've had all the different Love for Love's Sake interpretations rotating in my brain and kind of picking and choosing what I want to take from each of them, which is a very cool thing we can do with this show because it supports many different reads. I think for me I have landed on a few core ideas that I am stewing on the most:
Is Myungha in control of the game?
One thing I'm feeling pretty solid about is that my preferred interpretation is one where Myungha's consciousness is in control of the game. @jemmo and @biochemjess and @wen-kexing-apologist all offered up some thoughts about this that resonated with me and give me a framework that helps me make sense of the game glitches and server errors as manifestations of Myungha's emotional overwhelm and inability to accept love, rather than a creator forcing cruel choices and punishments on him. I like that idea a lot.
The initial assumption the show invites us to make is that the game world was created by the author based on his own novel, but I don't think that idea holds up as the show goes along. Because if this world we're in was truly based on the novel, I would expect we'd have seen some of it. Instead, we get a world that is populated by Myungha's own significant people--those he loved, those he lost, those he regretted--and no real hints about the novel world we're supposedly in. We never met the novel leads, for instance, or learned that Myungha had pre-existing knowledge of any other characters besides Yeowoon. So that tracks better with Myungha simply pulling his blorbo, the character he identified with most, into this afterlife world he created for himself.
Are Yeowoon and the romance "real" within this world of the show?
Which leads me to the next thing I'm stewing on. Is Yeowoon "real" in any meaningful sense within this universe? Is their relationship? Because functionally, Yeowoon is a mirror of Myungha and a stand in for his own self within the game world. Making Yeowoon happy becomes making Myungha happy. Loving Yeowoon is a form of self love for Myungha. One could argue that because the afterlife feels real to Myungha, it becomes real, and therefore everything that happens counts. But @troubled-mind mentioned in her post that she can't really latch onto the love story in this show because the reality is that Myungha has died and this afterlife is "wishful thinking." As an atheist, that resonates with me, and I think it's perhaps why I was not quite as emotionally moved by the romance ending as some of y'all seem to have been. Don't get me wrong, I thought it was beautiful. But I did not experience this as a happy ending to a love story in the way that some did. More than anything, I think I take it as a final bit of closure, that Myungha was able leave in peace having found some measure of love for himself in his final moments. I don't know that I am sold on the idea this means he is living a whole second life with Yeowoon.
So then, who is the author?
I have also been thinking a lot about who exactly this author is and how he's involved in this game world. @bengiyo suggested that he was someone who loved Myungha in life and created this world out of his own grief, and @twig-tea had suggested to me even before the show ended that the author was trying to help Myungha through the game. I see a logic to these reads, but I can't say either particularly resonated for me, in part because of what I mentioned above re: the cruelty of the game world if the errors are not self-inflicted by Myungha. @crapyouknowme suggested that the author is in fact a manifestation of the star Myungha wished upon, a loving presence that came to him because he yearned for it. I kind of like that idea personally, that this is another form of self-love Myungha willed into existence for himself. @dropthedemiurge wrote that in the end it seems all the text messages of love and yearning were from the author, and I do tend to agree. So under this interpretation, the author appears to Myungha and sends messages of love and guides him back into this game world with Yeowoon because Myungha wills these things for himself. I like that idea that Myungha is ultimately still the one in control of how he chooses to leave the world.
I think ultimately for me, I am arriving at seeing this story as less of a romance and more of a journey to self love and closure at the end of life. I do think there is a hopeful tone to the ending despite how dark the realities of Myungha's story are, and for me that hope is primarily based in his ability to love himself on his way out of this life.
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lxvebun · 10 months
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only in my dreams
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buns notes: Forgot I had this in my drafts and I want it OUT :,)
content Scaramouche x gender neutral reader. Angst<3. Softer Scaramouche because would it be my writing if I didn't turn him soft?. Cliffhanger? English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Not completely proofread ssh
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-can we be together
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He tries to ignore it, the pain that spikes through his body when you look at him and he can see it in your eyes that you don't recognize him. You've long since forgotten about him, Just as he had planned, so why is he feeling like this?. How is it that without a heart, he still feels like something is splitting apart inside his chest?
He should be happy for you, this is exactly what he wanted. For you to forget about him just like everyone else. Live your life the way you always should have without him interfering. Travel Teyvat, follow the career of your dreams, and even find someone who can love you with all of their heart, something he's physically incapable of as much as he wishes he wasn't.
he did not take the possibility that his new self may want his memories back into his plan. he never planned on losing you since it would be like he never existed in your life at all. You can't lose something you don't have and that was supposed to be it. And to now just pretend that all of your once shared memories together weren't real, the stolen kisses under the moonlight, the way you so annoyingly (not really) stole his hat and ran away yelling "Catch me if you can!" With that stupidly breathtaking smile on your face...it hurts more than he lets on
But as Lesser lord Kusanali has said, some things just can't be erased.
So she taught him how to look into your dreams. While some dreams are just a bunch of incoherent pictures of things you're exposed to daily, familiar faces of friends and family pieced together to make somewhat of a story, some dreams are figments of memories deeply intertwined within your soul.
And that's how he's able to watch you now, as you sit in the sand, knees pulled to your chest, gazing over the sea. Back in a place that resembles the Inazuma shores, the one where you used to lay together to stargaze. Though the stars in this sky are way more frequent and brightly colored and the ocean is way more gentle. there are no monsters, no Nobushi, no thunder. something that doesn't quite reflect reality. A peaceful dream.
He wonders why you're dreaming of this place. It's not as if it was hidden, but people rarely, if at all visited. It was your shared happy place to wind down. A place that he showed you.
he's been present in your dreams for a bit now, you never seem to be aware of it, so he doesn't bother to try and be quiet. he's used to questioning and talking to you in your dreams and receiving no response. so he tries to not get his hopes up as you turn around to look at where he's standing.
Scaramouche feels weirdly exposed as your gaze doesn't falter and your eyes seemingly trace over every detail of him. it's as if you're truly looking at him and maybe it's just wishful thinking but he swears he sees a glimpse of recognition in your eyes
And then you break the silence
"Do I know you?" You asked as you stand up from your place on the ground, dusting the imaginary sand off your clothes.
Who would have thought that such peaceful dreams could shift into cruel nightmares in just a few seconds.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you-" he manages to croak out despite the way his voice is trying to break. "I didn't know you could see me, y/- he cuts himself off. swallowing the ache of your name in his throat and biting back the tears threatening to spill. Just as he begins to open his mouth to finish his answer, you speak again.
"You look familiar"
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Thank you for reading angels! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
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dyns33 · 1 year
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Upon a dream
Dream x reader, being idiots, as always 
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Morpheus was truly the best boyfriend in the world. Romantic, poetic, attentive, tender, passionate.
If he had been real, he would have been truly wonderful.
But unfortunately such a perfect man couldn't exist, and so it was normal that Y/N only met him in her dreams.
During one of her nocturnal wanderings, she had found herself in a huge library, his library, and even if he had been surprised to find her there, he had not chased her away, allowing her to explore, showing her the castle, chatting at length with her.
It had been a beautiful dream, which she thought she would quickly forget. But she had dreamed of him again the following night, then every other night.
She was trying to convince herself that it was no big deal.
Her life wasn't so terrible, she had her family, her friends, her job, her hobbies. There were plenty of people who remained celibate all their lives and were perfectly happy being alone in front of the television, eating ice cream and imagining an ideal lover who would visit them in their sleep.
Nothing special.
           "My love, you seem troubled tonight. Far from me. Are you alright ?"
           "Yes, Morpheus. Excuse me, I'm just tired." Y/N apologized with a smile, snuggling into his arms to forget her worries, and the fact that he wouldn't be there when she woke up.
           "Good. That's what I'm here for. You can rest in peace, I'm watching over you. What do you want to do, my love ? Lucienne would be happy to show you new books, Cain and Abel wish to tell new stories, Matthew asks for gossip from the waking world. We can also walk in the gardens, travel to the other side of the galaxy, or stay in bed. Tell me, my love, I am at your command."
           "You're adorable. Anything is fine with me, as long as we do it together."
           "My sweet." he whispered, kissing her.
As always, it was difficult for Y/N when she opened her eyes and found herself in her bedroom, alone, in her cold bed, just like when she went to sleep.
It was absurd, she repeated it to herself every time she was about to fall asleep, but a simple dream managed to make her feel things she had never felt in her entire existence. The human brain could really be fascinating. And dangerous.
Depressing.
Because even if she was terribly happy when she was with Morpheus, she was just as sad when she left him and returned to reality.
Several times, she had thought of talking to a doctor about it. To find a solution. But Y/N didn't really see what it was going to solve.
They were only going to tell her that she felt lonely, which she already knew, and that her dreams were trying to fill that void.
The only thing she could do was seek the company of real people when she was awake.
It was not easy.
If Y/N had been able to get a real boyfriend, she would have done it a long time ago.
And it was worse now, because no one could ever be as good as Morpheus. She was really in love with him.
In love with a dream, it was really depressing.
There was also this ridiculous idea in the back of her head, which kept telling her that it wouldn't be very proper to cheat on him. Even if he didn't exist.
He didn't exist. Morpheus didn't exist, he wasn't waiting for her in her dreams every night, he would never magically appear in front of her, and if he loved her, then he would understand that she was looking for someone to spend her life with.
After asking her friends for advice, one of them offered to introduce her to a charming man, with whom she could get along well. It was less risky than meeting a stranger, because they could tell he was a good person.
And if she didn't like him, it would be fine, she would find other suitors.
Désiré was indeed a charming man. Funny, kind, seductive. But during the whole evening they spent together, Y/N only thought of Morpheus.
When their hands touched at the end of the meal, she quickly pulled it away apologetically. He looked a little offended, but he didn't say anything, forcing a smile.
           "It seems to me that I am not up to it." he sighed when it was time to part ways. "I don't like to lose, but I know when I'm not... wanted. Which doesn't happen often. He's lucky. He doesn't deserve it."
           "... I don't understand what you are talking about."
           "Oh, darling. I think that's the part I find the funniest. He'll be pissed that we had dinner together, but I can't imagine his reaction at all when he finds out why we had dinner together. "
           "It's late, I have to go home."
           "You're right. Sweet dreams." he purred, throwing a kiss at her.
Y/N did not try to understand what Désiré had meant. No doubt he had drunk too much alcohol during the meal, and he had guessed that there was someone else in her heart.
Going to bed, she relaxed thinking that she was finally going to find Morpheus and his marvellous kingdom, after this long day.
The throne room was horribly empty and cold when she materialized there. Sitting on the steps of his huge staircase, Morpheus watched her with an impassive face.
           "How was my brother-sister ?"
           "... Your what ?"
           "Desire. You were with them all night. At first I thought I had to step in, that they were going to try to hurt you, but... Matthew told me you asked to have dinner with them. A "date". You asked your friends to find you a 'date', several 'dates'. So I'm not enough for you ? You don't love me anymore ? Are you making fun of me ?"
           "Morpheus." she sighed sadly. "Of course I love you. I love you more than anything."
           "But not enough to be faithful."
           "Oh, I knew my mind would go to that ground, it's really not fair."
           "... Your mind ?" he repeated slowly.
           "Listen, I love you. But you're not real. It's just a dream. I can't wake up every morning to be reminded that this isn't true, that I'm alone, not loved, and the only times I feel some joy are during my sleep, with a being that my subconscious has invented. You are perfect, and the more time I spend with you, in this fabulous world, the more I cut myself of the real world. It's not healthy."
           “It is true that it is not good for mortals to live in the Dream. But that does not mean that it is not real. That we are not real. You... You really don't know who I am ? You really don't know it's not just a dream ? It's never just a dream."
           "Morpheus... Don't make me hope in vain."
           "I told you to go on dates in the waking world, boss. Just because you always say you exist doesn't mean the lady is going to believe it's true."
The little raven trembled a bit when his master looked at him, flying away to rest on Y/N's shoulder, where he would be safe, for the moment.
           "Maybe I should have listened to you, Matthew. But it's not too late. Desire also showed me that our love was strong, they couldn't do anything against it. I just have to make up for my mistake."
Slowly, Morpheus stood up, approaching Y/N, who didn't know what to make of this dream. It really wasn't like the other nights.
He caressed her cheek tenderly, before kissing her like every time she was going to have to leave soon.
           "When you wake up my love, I'll be there and you won't have any reason to be sad, or look for another partner."
           "Don't make me..."
           "This dream is over."
Jumping up in bed, Y/N first looked at the window, seeing that it was still dark. She then looked at the time, which made her sigh. It was still very late.
           "Good evening my love."
This time, in addition to jumping, she screamed, falling off her bed. Immediately, a man came running to her side, asking her if she was alright and helping her to sit on the mattress. He had the voice of Morpheus. And his face.
No, it was impossible.
           "Well done, boss. Subtle. She wasn't scared at all."
           "Silence, Matthew. My love, forgive me, I told you I would be here."
           "... I'm still dreaming ?"
           "No."
           "So this is it, I'm crazy."
           "You are not in my younger sister's domain, I can assure you. I should have explained a lot about myself to you more clearly, I should have visited you in the waking world earlier. We were so happy I was not thinking, as soon as you appeared in front of me I only wanted to be with you and I did not see that I was hurting you. I apologize. My love, I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, king of dreams and nightmares, prince of stories, and I am very real."
           "... You are real." she said softly, touching his face to make sure he really wasn't an illusion. He closed his eyes when her fingers touched his skin, turning to make them pass on his lips. "All this time, you've been real. And I almost dated another man. You must hate me."
           "I wasn't thrilled by this news, but there was a misunderstanding, so I forgive you, if you promise me never to do this again, and to stay away from Desire."
           "His name is Désiré, and okay."
           "Desire is my brother sister, my sibling. Another Endless. They wanted to have fun with you, at my expense, but your feelings were strong and sincere, preventing them from manipulating you, and proving to me that I had no reason to be jealous."
           "But you were still a little jealous."
           "No."
           "Boss." muttered the raven, poking its head out of its creator's cloak. "Boss, you're really bad with girls. You always have to say yes. Yes I'm jealous, but I trust you, I love you, I don't deserve you and I'll do anything to be worthy of..."
           "Thanks Matthew, you can go back to the Dreaming now."
           "I'm a good wingman, I think it's safer if I stay."
           "My love and I are together for the first time in the waking world, at night, in her room, on her bed."
           "... See you, boss ! Madam ! Be good !"
The raven disappeared back into the cloak. Morpheus waited a few moments, as if wanting to make sure he was gone, before laying sensually on top of her, suddenly looking a bit taller, his shadow enveloping the entire room as a sort of purr emanated from him. Y/N wondered if she was really awake.
           "So, my love, what do you want to do ?" he asked, as he asked her every night.
           "Hmm... I'm too tired to go out. It's a little late to read, watch a movie or even dance. So what could we do ?"
           "What, indeed ?"
           "Is the king of dreams sleeping ? Is he dreaming ?"
           "No, and no. But I think about you all the time, to the point that it interferes with my work. A lot of people often dreamed of you, because I wasn't concentrating enough."
           "Are you willing to sleep with me ? I mean, sleep sleep. I'm really tired. But if you're here tomorrow morning... You know."
           "It would be an honour for me to watch over you while you sleep. I already do it every night, but to hold you in my arms while you are asleep. It is the most beautiful proof of love and trust. Not many people realize that there is nothing more vulnerable than a sleeping being. Thank you for this gift, my love."
Smiling, Y/N snuggled up to him after being settled under the covers. She would have liked to listen to his heart before falling asleep, but obviously he had none. He didn't need it, he wasn't human.
They would talk about that later, and the consequences that implied.
But now she was tired, and happy that Morpheus was really there, in her bed.
           "Are you really not going to sleep ?"
           "No. I'm going to beg my father for the night to pass faster, so that it's morning and we… You know."
Y/N would also ask him about his strange family when she was better awake. In the meantime, she fell asleep peacefully in the arms of Morpheus, who sang her a lullaby while stroking her hair.
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tags: f!reader (afab), spoilers for anime onlys
a/n: after some very popular demand, here is another makima piece (more specifically a sequel to my last fic). this is not one of those standalone sequels however, it would be best to read the prequel to best understand this one.
man is the breast, heaven is the playground (prequel)
AO3
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i. ハッピーエンド
“So, how’s the married life treating you?” Himeno deviated completely from what you were initially discussing.
Perhaps ‘marriage’ wasn’t too far off from what your relationship actually was. A life-binding contract was marriage in its own right. Despite your musings, however, the truth of Makima’s identity as the Control Devil was a secret. Even if it was Himeno, you wouldn’t let that fact slip. “It’s not the married life,” you replied instead. “But yes, things are going great. Does everyone still hate me for taking away their queen?” It was quite the uproar when you both announced your departure from the Devil Hunters. Makima received more flowers than you could carry on your last day. It had been several years since then and now you were nestled in Takamatsu in Kagawa Prefecture.
You managed to find work in translation, much to the joy of your family back home. “We have to meet this girl who got you to quit,” your mother insisted, she’d hear no objections. She might have wanted you to come home to your country in general, but she was happy nonetheless you were no longer hunting devils for a living.
Himeno’s snort told you as much. “I don’t think Nanaka will ever be over it.” Himeno snickered.
“I’m glad to hear she’s still alive and kicking regardless,” you replied honestly with a chuckle of your own. Even if you had never seen eye to eye, you wished the brunette the best as Himeno mentioned setting Nanaka up on a blind date. “How’s your new partner?”
Himeno’s voice was a mixture of satisfaction and melancholy. “Aki’s great, he’s still alive after all this time. I wish he’d just settle down now. I’m hoping this new division helps with that.”
Right, Himeno mentioned something about it before. A Division composed of tamed devils and fiends, though it would be terminated should there not be any good results. “Any new additions?”
“Since last time, the Blood Fiend actually. Other than that, there’s still just the Spider Devil with the Violence and Shark Fiends.”
“Any other blessings I should know about?” What about that Angel Devil you talked about? You still keeping his discovery secret?
“None for now.” Still my best kept secret in the village I found him in.
“I see.” Good for him.
It wasn’t too long ago Himeno had sent you a coded message detailing her orders. She requested that if things about him ever came to light, you and Makima would help somehow. The redhead didn’t seem too interested in this request, but she agreed when you asked. The Angel Devil is a peaceful one, Himeno detailed in her script. He doesn’t have what it takes to kill, so I just want him to stay with the humans that brought him up. The little guy even has a girlfriend. Humans and devils living in peace might be a reality one day, I’m just not naive enough to think that’ll happen overnight. Maybe that’s what won you over now that you thought about it.
“Well,” Himeno pulled you away from your thoughts and back into your conversation. “There is a Zombie Devil I’ll be snuffing out tomorrow morning, maybe that’ll be our new member.”
You grimaced at the thought of a zombifying-devil. “Even I think that’s a terrible idea and I’m the one who decided to become a devil hunter just so I could travel.”
“You think every idea I have is terrible.” Himeno whined.
“Not every idea,” you corrected with a teasing tone. “Only most of them.” Upon turning a corner, you viewed the welcoming sight of your apartment door. “But look, I’m just getting home so I’ll talk to you later. Try not to get yourself killed tomorrow.” 
“Say ‘hi’ to the missus for me.” Himeno drawled before hanging up.
Still a maelstrom. It would always be a relief to hear from the playful devil hunter in spite of that maelstrom though. You sighed in satisfaction, reaching for your keys when the door opened on its own. 
The breeze must have drifted your scent under the door, you figured, as you welcomed the comforting sight of your girlfriend. “Welcome home, [First].” Makima greeted you warmly as you walked into her embrace. “How was your day at work?”
“Peaceful,” you pecked her cheek before kissing her lips. “How about you? Busy day again?” You weren’t the only one to find new work after your resignation from the Devil Hunters. Makima took to working at a small but popular café in the neighborhood, preparing tea and crafting baked goods. She told you before baking was merely an activity she took up to alleviate her boredom, but it had since become something she enjoyed. It was beneficial to your being as well as you happily indulged in testing prospective new items on the menu for her.
“The choux crème has been a really popular item, more people are coming in for it.” Makima replied, satisfied. You blanched at the emphasis of the dessert name and the hounding sound of heavy paws heading your way. Your reaction, sadly, was too slow as Makima’s many dogs came to greet you like clockwork.
“Maki- nooo!” You sputtered as Makima laughed gleefully at the onslaught of wet tongues and wagging tails. “Tell them to get down!”
Makima’s expression was teasing, “but they’re so happy to see you come home, see?”
You dodged another lick from Macaron with expertise. “You’re not funny, I hope you know this,” yet the grin on your face said otherwise as Makima finally got her pups to relax. I guess I’ll be washing up sooner than expected.
“Someone looks like she’s in a good mood today,” you noted as you massaged lotion onto your freshly washed face. Bagheera and Tora welcomed you home, brushing against your legs now that their larger canid roommates finished their turn. Makima moved about the kitchen, making tea. “Did something good happen while you were out?”
“Your mother called today,” Makima answered with a small but satisfied smile. You couldn’t hold back a small grin of your own at those words. That action alone would probably give your girlfriend enough happiness to last several days. To earnestly earn the love of your family and feel as if she were part of it herself, it meant more to Makima than she could ever express. “She wanted to practice her Japanese before she came here.”
“My mom called and she just wanted to practice her Japanese with you?” You implored in disbelief once you settled on the couch, Makima sitting between your legs as she drank a hot cup of chai.
Your girlfriend’s smile was an uncanny replica of the Mona Lisa. “She asked why you haven’t proposed yet.”
“Now that sounds like my mother.”
Makima took a long sip of her tea before saying anything else.  “Maybe we should be married in the human sense as well.” She set her cup down on the coffee table. “It’s the ultimate contract for humans.”
Your expression was curious. “You like the idea of marriage?”
“The idea of weddings was something I was always drawn to.” Her golden eyes had a distant look in them, her mind far beyond your comfortable living room with your many pets. Makima never went into the specifics of her childhood, but she told you enough to get the picture. She was simply one of the best kept secrets of the government; a young devil whisked off the streets of Tokyo to become a necessary evil. Concepts such as love, family and friendship were ones she learned from film and books. “The idea of binding yourself to another person for an eternity, it’s a concept I’m fond of. I wanted a big wedding.”
“I’m not opposed to a wedding,” you smiled. Marriage hadn’t been something you thought about prior to Makima. Your contract with her practically was one, all a wedding would make Makima’s integration into your family official. “I’m not sure if we have enough people in our lives to have the wedding size you’re thinking of, though.”
“I have plenty of people at the headquarters in Tokyo that would come if I asked.” Makima’s lips curved into a smile primal in nature while amusement danced in the rings of her irises. “Nanaka would for certain, she wouldn’t want to do anything to make me sad. If she’s still alive, we could extend her a personal invitation. What do you think?” At your dry look in response, your girlfriend chuckled lightly before pressing herself against your chest. “It’s a joke, I’m joking.” You decided to take her word for it. You always wondered to what extent it would be possible for Makima’s view of those who had fallen victim to her abilities as her equal. Perhaps it was one of those questions best left unanswered. “Weddings are one of those things that feel best when those in attendance truly care about the couple. I only want those people to come to our wedding.”
There was a lot of moral ambiguity that came with dating the Control Devil. Any devil really. You wondered if you were the only person in the world to do so, but you wanted to believe in the one you fell in love with.
Makima no longer relied on the fake relationships she manufactured with her abilities since your move to Takamatsu. Not for the interpersonal parodies she made to fill the loneliness inside her. She wasn’t perfect. Her first few weeks of generating business at her café were completely reliant on absolute control’s influence to bring customers in directly and through word of mouth. You were quite sure that power was how she obtained her job in the first place. 
But you’re still trying your best. “There’ll be people like that,” you cradled Makima gently as you kissed her forehead. “My family loved you before even coming over to meet you properly. More of your regulars are just normal people you just happen to talk to daily. When the time comes, lots of people will be there just because they’re your friend.”
ii. 「純愛だよ」
There would be many people that would come to the wedding for Makima’s sake, that you were sure of. Kishibe of the Devil Hunters, however, would not be one of them. This you were certain of as you recalled the day you encountered him only a month after your resignation. If not for the way he intercepted you outside of your apartment building on your way home, definitely because of his cold but calculating stare.
When the man made no move to explain what he wanted, you decided to move your piece first. Nothing about the encounter felt coincidental as you were led to a place with as few people as possible. “So what do you want?” You had seen from the ground level that Makima had opened the window and you wondered if she knew of this sudden arrival. “I’ve been busy planning a move and I want to go home, it’s my turn to cook dinner tonight.” You dangled your small bag of groceries, a few ingredients required for the dish you planned to cook.
“You can’t spare a moment to talk to an old work buddy?” In spite of his words, there was no nostalgia or yearning in his tone. Kishibe held out his box of cigarettes to which you declined before he lit a cigarette of his own. “It’s been a while after all, we haven’t talked in so long.”
“We barely talked in the first place,” you replied tersely. Besides introducing you and Makima to one another, you seldom saw the man held as one of the strongest in the Bureau. He was an enigma, a drunk enigma who still managed to do his job well. You were doubtful you’d be able to hold your own against him for long. “Hit me with that line after it’s been a few years.”
“How is Makima?” Your eyes narrowed at the sudden question. “It was quite the surprise to everyone that she resigned. I’m surprised the higher ups weren’t more insistent that she stay.”
“Cut the crap and tell me why you’re here,” you crossed your arms and you shared a knowing look. Whatever it was, you were on the same pageー both of you knew more than what you initially assumed. “What is it that you need to know so you can get out of our hair?”
“I suppose we can drop the pleasantries then,” Kishibe put out his cigarette as quickly as he lit it. “I’ve never been fond of Makima, but I could always tolerate her. Whatever inhumane deeds she committed, as long as I knew she was on humanity’s side, I could always turn the other cheek.” Tired black eyes that knew too much glanced at you piercingly. “I just find it strange that she decided to leave the Bureau to play house with a new toy.”
Your eyebrow twitched, but you held back your anger. “Because she’s the Control Devil, you mean,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Were you the one that brought her to officials? You worried that your dog got off its leash? Or is it because that dog turned on its masters?”
Infuriatingly but unsurprisingly, the man didn’t answer any of your questions. “I was worried that the Control Devil forced you into making a contract with her.”
“Makima can’t force me to do anything,” you scowled.
“Did she make you make a contract with her?” Kishibe queried. 
“That’s none of your business.” After a strong silence between you both, sighed. “It’s part of our contract,” you answered begrudgingly. It would be better to cooperate lest he decide to take action due to your insubordination. “Makima can’t use her powers on me. She couldn’t force me to do anything before anyway. I’m not sure about the specifics, neither is she. We just know she hasn’t been able to order me successfully.”
“And what does she gain from a contract like that?”
“We stay together forever,” a soft voice cut through the conversation before you could answer. Makima stood behind you in an accompaniment of caws and frantic wingbeats as crows dispersed from where she stood. You sighed in relief at her appearance, at the very least Kishibe was the only devil hunter that had come to inspect the motivations of the Control Devil. “Hello, Kishibe,” a cold smile spread across her lips as she softly nuzzled the crow perched on her forearm. “had I known you were coming, I would have made tea.”
“You don’t need to keep up appearances on my account,” the older man insisted gruffly as Makima sent her corvid on its way. “You’ve been listening since we left the apartment. You left the window open.”
The redhead seemed to take a dark thrill in this moment, “yes I suppose we don’t have to keep up those things,” she agreed fluidly. “I wanted to keep a listen out for [First] so I could greet her at the door when she came home. Anyone would worry about their beloved when a strange man intercepts them.”
I do not need a fight breaking out. Makima versus Kishibe, you worried less about the physical outcome. No, you were fearful of what the long-term consequences of this fight would be. “Makima,” you stepped between the devil and the hunter. “we finished talking, let’s go home. He got the answers he was looking for.”
Makima’s smile shifted into one warmer for you, “yes, let’s go home.” You held her hand with the one not holding groceries and gave it a squeeze, Makima squeezed back.
You glanced at Kishibe over your shoulder, “you have the answers you’re looking for,” you repeated.
It’s-
iii. ごめんな
Your wet cough tore you away from your memories. It hurt, it hurt, everything hurt. It all hurt, yet you couldn’t react beyond a weak gasp as you laid on the ground, crushed under debris. Ah, this sucks.
You get off hours early from work, and a devil decides to attack. Perhaps it was muscle memory from your devil hunting days as you absently reached for a weapon that was no longer there. It had long since been confiscated after you resigned, civilians had no need for such weapons. Yet the horrifying realization that your sword was gone, was all the devil needed before gleefully thrusting its hand through your stomach. This all sucking was truly the understatement. Where were the devil hunters patrolling the area supposed to be, stopping to get lunch?
Today was supposed to be a good day, you lamented.
Your half-day at work aligned perfectly with Makima’s off-day. You were supposed to swing by and change into something comfortable, then you’d hit the town. You recalled the dress she said she would wear. It was gonna be that white sundress she got last year, she looks so good in that. 
She was waiting for you.
That was what hurt you the most. Makima and the makeshift home you made for yourself. The two cats that slept anywhere that inconvenienced you and the seven dogs that welcomed you home rambunctiously everyday yet you were somehow still surprised when it happened. Makimaー
Your phone rang in the distance for the fifth time in the past six minutes.
I’m a terrible girlfriend, you berated yourself. You couldn’t crawl to it and your arms refused to move no matter how much you willed for your adrenaline to make a miracle happen. I’m sorry, you weeped quietly as your phone fell silent before the sharp trill of your ringtone started all over again. I’m so sorry.
You weren’t particularly religious, nor were you sure if there was a god that they would stop to listen to hear prayers for the sake of a devil. Still, you prayed. please let her be okay. I’m okay with dying as long as she’ll be okay. Don’t let this be what makes her lose hope in everything. I want her to be loved for the rest of her life.
Whether it was by your family that survived you, whether it was by the friends, whether it was by someone else who loved her beyond the controls of her abilities. Anything would be better than her being alone again.
Please.
Please.
The continuous trill of your cell phone accompanied you until your eyes closed, and your chest stopped heaving.
iv. 彦星と織姫の物語
At five years of age, you dreamed of a prince on a magnificent horse saving you from a life of despair. 
The world was unimaginable without your parents.
And you were sure you were born for a special purpose, a belief amplified by the strong feeling something was missing in your life and you needed to find it.
At thirteen years of age, you understood how the world truly  worked.
The world continued despite the loss of your parents.
There were no princes riding on magnificent horses and there wasn’t anybody who would save you from the despair-filled life you were living. 
And no one was born with a special purpose in life, not even you.
One… two… three… four… You held yourself tightly, forehead pressed against your knees as you waited for the sound of rushing footsteps to fade. It was just your luck that you ran into cops that found it more than a little suspicious that a preteen was wandering around instead of at school. They were unconvinced when you told them you were homeschooled and a kick to the shin later, you were hiding in an alley. Just a little while longer, you whispered, hugging yourself tighter. There was no prince that was going to come and save you, you realized this the moment your parents died and you were left alone in the streets of Beijing to fend for yourself. You became your own prince.
That was why you stole from merchants, that was why you picked pockets of anyone gullible enough to let their guard down.
You stood up from your crouch when you were sure the police officers were gone. You’d earned enough cash that day and something for dinner to boot. It was time to go home before you got too cocky and landed yourself in trouble. You patted your pocket with the squished meat buns in them. That would be enough to get through today.
You just needed to save. You were unsure of the amount you needed to save, but once you had enough, you would be able to get out of this place. That belief reassured you more than anything, it certainly reassured you more than the dead magpie your right foot nearly touched. Ew gross! You nearly touched another in your attempt to avoid the first. The cats would be in heaven later when they found this spot you grimly thought.
You glanced to your right, wondering if this would be a decent alley to leave into the main street when you saw a girl your age sitting with her knees bunched to her chest. You couldn’t see her face from how she was hunched over, nor did you trust her. It didn’t look like she was with anyone else, though it crossed your mind that maybe she was a decoy so you could get jumped.
You glanced over your shoulder without turning, relieved no one was standing behind you. You’d seen it happen more than once, you weren’t going to be another victim. Promptly, you turned around, more than willing to pretend you never saw the girl in the first place and exit in the opposite direction when-
Growl.
No, you told yourself sharply as you paused midstep. Giving someone else your food would be a terrible idea. She can find something for herself.
That was what you told yourself; it was what you told yourself and you still begrudgingly turned around, stomping your feet all the while when there was no one to be mad at but yourself.
“Here,” you grumbled without looking at the girl, holding your misshapen haul over her. “take it before I change my mind.” When she made no move to take the buns from your hand, you dropped them in front of her. The wrapping would keep the dirt off of them. “You’re welcome,” you sighed as you finally took your leave. Your only consolation was that she wasn’t a decoy that would lead to your ass getting kicked. There goes dinner.
When you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve, instinctively you jerked away.
You glared at the girl, ready for a fight. “Hey get off of m-,” You. Your words halted as soon as you saw her wide-eyed stare and tears. There was nothing familiar about this girl, you had never seen her before in your life. There was nothing familiar about her black hair, nor the mole under her left eye. You were sure you couldn’t say you’d ever met anyone with golden eyes with red rings in them either. There was no reason to feel like your senses had been set ablaze and the universe shifted.
You didn’t know this girl.
This girl was a stranger.
You knew this and yet you still fell to your knees as warm tears flooded your eyes without your permission. Your mind had gone blank, unable to conjure a single thought and even if you could, you doubted you would be able to voice them. So you followed instinct as it screamed at you to hold this stranger in your arms, welcomed the way she threw her arms over your shoulders in return.
An indeterminable amount of time passed while you cried in the arms of a stranger before you stood up again. 
As you wordlessly led her to your home, it vaguely crossed your mind how strange this was. It was strange that you held this girl’s hand while you crossed the street. It was strange that you led her into the abandoned apartment building you called home. It was even stranger that despite only meeting a few hours prior, you were laying with this girl on your tattered bed, holding each other like you were scared you’d disappear if you let go.
It was all strange, but something told you it would be even stranger had you ignored her in that alleyway. “By the way,” you yawned, as it dawned on you that you never once asked for your new companion’s name. “what’s your name?” 
When there was no immediate response, you thought the girl fell asleep. “Nayuta,” you finally heard the feathery light reply. Nayuta pressed herself closely to your chest, listening to your heartbeat.
“I’m [First],” you squeezed.
Nayuta squeezed back.
v.「行かないで!行かないで!行かないで!どこにもいけないで!離れないで!あたしのそばにずっといて!」支配の悪魔が叫んだ。魂が叫んだ。
You discovered Nayuta was a devil less than a month after you started living together. She did a terrible job hiding it. Considering how airheaded she could be, though, you doubted Nayuta was truly trying to keep it a secret. Still, the truth of her nature eluded you for a few weeks as you initially accepted that perhaps these things were simple coincidences.
Her eyes were unlike anyone else’s eyes you’d ever seen. (You wondered for a while if they were special contacts, but if they were, they were beyond dried and damaged considering she never took them out.)
Animals listened to her way too easily. (There was no longer any need to fight off the crows when they got too close to your meal. A simple “go away” from your companion, and they would fly off just as she commanded.)
There was the time you bore witness to something you wouldn’t have believed had you not seen it yourself. Nayuta walked up to an older woman, held out her hand and plainly demanded, “give me all your money.” Promptly, all the yuan in the woman’s wallet was placed in Nayuta’s hand.
(“That old lady just gave you all her money?” You gawked in disbelief, eyes bulging out of their sockets. “How?!”
“I told her to give it to me,” Nayuta told you plainly, like she was telling you the sky was blue. Then she told you she wanted soup dumplings and jianbing for lunch.)
As such, it was no wonder why you found yourself thinking that she was a devil. It never crossed your mind that perhaps she had another sort of trick up her sleeve. Devil was the first thing that came to your mind and the only answer you felt was right.
“Hey, Nayuta,” you asked after much contemplation, watching as she drew a dog on the dirty hardwood floor of your home. Your belly was full from eating roujiamo and candied hawthorns, purchased with money Nayuta got from a mean teenager. “are you a devil?”
Nayuta paused her ministrations, staring at her rough sketch before she nodded, “yeah.” Her revelation wasn’t a surprise in the slightest. Gold eyes stared into yours as you thought over your next question. Were you scared of her now? No, you answered your internal pondering quickly. Being scared of Nayuta felt like an inherent rejection of what made you ‘you’. You’d never be scared of her, there was nothing intimidating about a devil who wanted a large dog so she could ride atop it like it was a horse. Instead you asked, “what kind of devil are you?”
“The Control Devil,” she answered truthfully.
“Have you ever used your powers on me?”
It was like a dam suddenly broke as Nayuta’s expression suddenly changed from blasé to fearful. “I haven’t!” When did she even get in front of you? It felt like you had only blinked once before she was standing right in front of you, grabbing your hands tightly as she shook her head frantically. “I haven’t!” She repeated desperately and you almost took a step back in bewilderment. You hadn’t seen Nayuta cry since the day you first met but you could tell these tears were different.
Her tears from your first meeting were inexplicable. A visceral reaction to whatever emotion took over the both of you that day. These tears were based on fright and distress.
“Na-,” you tried consoling the girl, but panic had overtaken her completely.
“I didn’t, [First], please believe me!” Nayuta begged hysterically, her grip on your hands somehow tighter. “Don’t leave me!”
“I believe you!” Your heart felt like it was beating a million kilometers a second, but you had to convey how you felt. Nayuta looked as if she was going to cry once more, scared but hopeful.“I believe you,” you repeated softly. “I’m not gonna leave you.”
vi. 誓いの言葉
Nayuta wasn’t much of a talker.
That wasn’t to say she was timid, nor was she diffident. It was more like she was an airhead who skipped to the beat of her own drum. She did as she pleased and she said what was on her mind as it came to her mind. That was how you often ended up spending hours of your day looking for her if she suddenly ran off to find something that piqued her interest or keen sense of smell.
This time thankfully, she’d only been drawn to the display TV in front of a store. That was leagues better than the time she’d wanted to see why two cats were fighting in an alley.
You shot the girl an incredulous look, hands on your hips. “I keep telling you not to let go of my hand when we walk, you always get lost,” you scolded, more concerned than annoyed. The last thing you wanted was for Nayuta to run into devil hunters while you were separated. It was your worst fear that she would be taken from you and killed. Despite your worries, however, it didn’t always prevent instances when something would catch Nayuta’s eye and she’d let go of your hand in favor of checking out.
“[First],” Nayuta pointed at the television, completely ignoring your worry. “[First], I want one of these.”
You pursed your lips in annoyance knowing Nayuta had moved well beyond the matter at hand. At the excited look in her ringed eyes, however, you felt your annoyance fading faster than you’d like. “You want what?” You looked at the TV, wondering what grabbed her attention so much. It was a wedding, you realized after a few seconds. The wedding was western style, the bride donning a beautiful white dress. “Do you want the dress?” There was absolutely no way you’d be able to finesse a wedding dress no matter how hard you tried.
“I want the wedding.” That made you look at her even more wide-eyed than before.
“We can’t afford something like that!” You held up your hand before she could make her ridiculous suggestion. “And they won’t let two kids get married anyway, we’d have to wait until…” you honestly weren’t sure, now that you thought about it. You shook your head and Nayuta’s brow furrowed with a disgruntled pout, “anyways, we can’t have a wedding like that, it costs too much money.” When Nayuta didn’t reply, you poked her cheek. “You okay?”
Nayuta’s following grunt was neither in agreement or disagreement. When she didn’t object to you holding her hand, you held back a snort of amusement as you led the way home. It became apparent later on, when Nayuta approached you with your off-white bed sheet, however, that she had not gotten over the topic of weddings.
“It’s my veil,” Nayuta said as much when you asked why she was wearing your sheet. “I want the wedding now.”
“If you don’t put the sheet back on the bed, it’s the only one we have!” Laughter slipped through your words at the ridiculous display. But she’s still really cute. A total dork, but cute. Your hands moved to adjust her ‘veil’ more evenly on her head. You wanted to marry Nayuta when you grew up; when you had your house and weren’t living off scraps. Then her veil wouldn’t be the dirty sheet you laid on and she could wear the princess-style gown that you saw in the movie, not the dirty clothes you wore everyday. That was a long day away, you knew. It was hard enough imagining that you’d ever be somewhere better than this. “Okay,” you said warmly. “let’s have a wedding.”
Nayuta beamed, holding her head high, before she noticed the sheet slipping. You couldn’t hold back another snicker at that, “we have to say the vows first,” you instructed. “It’s where we promise each other the things we’ll do for each other once we’re married.” Your mother was fond of movies where weddings were the center of the plot, but you couldn’t recall any of the vows expressed in them. “I promise…” you began, pondering what you would say. I promise that first, I’ll get you a big house. One that has lots of dogs, well, as long as they’re cats too. We’ll have food from all over the world because we’ll have some fancy butler make it for us, and when we feel like it, we’ll go to any amusement park we want. And I’ll protect you from any devil hunter we come across.”
“I promise that I’ll be with you forever,” Nayuta followed seamlessly in your exchanging of vows. “I won’t use my powers on you. I won’t let go of your hand when we go out, because you get upset when I get lost. And I promise I’ll protect you too.”
You grinned, content. “Now we have to kiss too.” It was a quick kiss, a simple peck on the lips before you rested your forehead on hers. “And I now pronounce us wife and wife.” The imaginary audience applauded, welcoming your union in open arms.
“The people in the movie were dancing too afterwards,” Nayuta chirped after a moment.
“That’s because we’re supposed to have our first dance as a married couple afterwards,” you replied. The sheet, unfortunately, could not keep up with your dancing even if it was a slow waltz to an unknown melody you made on the spot.
“I want a real wedding this time.”
I do too. “We can get married for real when we grow up,” you vowed once more as you clumsily led each other in your dance.
Nayuta’s smile was saccharin, “promise?”
“Promise,” you repeated joyously. “it’ll be in a fancy hall with lots of people.” Not that either of you knew enough people to have even a small number of guests at your wedding. But that could change by the time you are grownups. 
vii. 旧友
The day the devil hunters came was a blur.
You weren’t sure what it was that led to their discovery of Nayuta. You could only guess in the future that it was because of the trail of people who complained that their money had been stolen and they couldn’t remember how. At the time, guessing wasn’t going to get you out of the situation you landed yourselves in.
They didn’t buy your usual excuses.
There wasn’t anywhere to run in the corner they expertly trapped you in as you ran away, believing you had been making progress in losing the one following you.
You held your arms out between, knowing full well you were a flimsy shield to someone trained to kill devils.
Nayuta fingers dug into the back of your shirt, body tense. Her abilities required she believe one was lesser than her for her to order them, that was impossible when you were both scared out of your wits cornered with nowhere to go.
The woman kept an eye on you both, weapon drawn in one hand, phone in the other. “I found the C-” were the only words she managed to get out when she suddenly collapsed, revealing the scarred old man behind her. You learned later he called himself Kishibe.
You weren’t sure if you should have felt relieved when you saw the old man, suited up as any other devil hunter would be. You didn’t like him, that much you had decided in your silent stare down. 
He released a raspy sigh, humming thoughtfully as he crushed the unconscious woman’s phone. “I came here expecting to only find one of you,” the man scratched the side of his head sluggishly. He eyed you carefully with a sense of recognition you couldn’t quite place before his eyes drifted to Nayuta beside you. “The Control Devil really is a selfish one.”
viii. マキマとナユタ
“You’re starting to look like me, Himeno.” It had been years since he’d last seen the woman and she seemed tired beyond her years. If Life played favorites, it was more than apparent Himeno was not one of that group. Aki died, succumbing to his final two years to live. The Chainsaw kid took off before then in the aftermath of the brief but chaotic attack of the Bomb Devil. Perhaps she’d been driven mad, perhaps she craved being the country mouse of Aesop’s fable. It was all the woman could do to run off with sister and the Blood Fiend, nestled in the quiet coastal town of Shonai in Yamagata Prefecture.
“It’s rude to point out a lady’s age, sir.” Himeno accepted the cigarette regardless. A large portion of her bangs were white and gray, her eye showing signs of crow’s feet. “What are you doing in little ole Shonai?” Smoke wafted from her mouth with a soft exhale.
“I started my own delivery service,” Kishibe gestured his cigarette to his car. “and you’re my first and only customer.”
Himeno’s smile was amused, but her one visible eye was anything but. “Funny, I don’t recall me or my sister ordering anything.”
“Consider this your lucky day then, it’s the delivery of a lifetime.” Kishibe didn’t miss a beat. “It’s a two-for-one deal.”
“I’ve had enough once-in-a-lifetime deals.” Himeno crushed her cigarette on the bottom of her foot before flicking it to the wayside. With more than a hint of finality, she waved and walked in the opposite direction of his vehicle.  “Whatever it is, you should keep it to-”
“It’s the new Control Devil.” Those words made Himeno stop in her tracks. “They discovered her in China, but I managed to nick her.” Just in time to thwart disaster. Makima had been a ticking time bomb that had been staved off successfully when ー appeared in her life. That timer began once again when ー was killed in an attack by the Rat Devil. If the Chinese government had disposed of your current incarnation in front of the new Control Devil, Kishibe knew that there would have been no preventing the hell that would be unleashed upon the world.
Still, it would be best for the two of you to be protected til you could properly fend for yourselves.
Himeno’s shoulder shook for a few moments, it wasn’t hard to imagine the thoughts going through her head. I can keep on walking, she possibly thought. I can pretend I didn’t hear anything. Yet human nature got the better of her, Himeno sighing shakily, “why’d you bring her to me?”
“I’m not fit to raise children and out of all my old contacts, you’re the one I trust the most to do a good job handling her.” Kishibe answered truthfully. Not even Quanxi could be relied on for such a task. As much as he trusted his unrequited love, he knew the woman would have less of an interest in raising children than she did his old advances. 
“What’s the second part of the deal?”
“Take a look in the car.”
Warily, the former devil hunter turned around, taking slow steps towards the car and leaned close to the window.
Himeno said nothing for a while as Kishibe watched her back, knowing that she was likely experiencing a strong wave of emotion. Everything likely clicked the moment she saw you. The same skin tone, the same hair texture, everything exactly the same as she remembered. “ー always knew about Makima, didn’t she.” Despite her phrasing, it was not a question. It was a soft, emotional observation. 
“This new one shouldn’t have any of Makima’s old memories, but it seems this is one attachment she can’t shake.” Perhaps this was part of their contract. Leave it to Makima to make the implausible possible. The life of a devil may have been cyclical in nature, but reincarnation among humans was unproven. Yet here you were in all your similarities to ー. Kishibe didn’t ponder what this meant for humanity. If this meant his old buddies were somewhere walking around earth as new beings.  Perhaps you were simply an exception, a product of the contract ー made with Makima. Makima did say you’d stay together forever. 
Kishibe doubted he would ever receive an answer. All he was certain was that if you were the one thing keeping the Control Devil from wreaking havoc on the world, you were a necessary piece of the puzzle.
“This one isn’t ー either, she’s [First]. She doesn’t have any memories from before.” Kishibe warned, lightly tapping Himeno’s shoulder. He didn’t need the woman to get any false hopes. ー was dead, there was no doubt about it. The age separating Himeno and yourself was succinct proof. You weren’t the friend she lost more than a decade prior. “If you really can’t handle it, I’ll figure things out.” 
Himeno’s one blue eye shone with more fire he’d seen since the last time he’d seen her. “I’m glad you feel that way,” the man tipped his proverbial hat to her. “I’ll be back when they’re old enough for defense training.”
“Hey, Gramps, where are we?” You demanded once you had woken up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. He might have saved your life, but he had kept you in the dark long enough. 
Nayuta ungraciously yawned,“I have to pee.”
The wizened man took a hard look at the pack of cigarettes in his hand before shoving it in his pocket, sighing heavily. “We’re in Shonai over in Japan.” At last, he introduced the woman next to him. “This is Himeno, she’ll be taking care of you both from now on.”
You shared a look with Nayuta, wondering if this place would really be the best for you. It beats living where we were though, you were forced to admit. A part of you would miss the room you and Nayuta called home for the longest time, where you had your wedding and where you drew on the floor when you got bored. But you planned to leave that building someday, hoping you’d be leading a better life by then. ‘Someday’ simply came faster than you expected.
Thanks, old man, you doubted you would see much of him again though as you saw his car become smaller and smaller in the distance.
“Do either of you like cartoons?” Himeno asked when it was just the three of you. “What do you like watching?” When neither of you could come up with a response, Himeno cheerily made the decision for you. “We have the complete Ashita no Nadja set at home, we can watch that when we get there. But since we’re celebrating your arrival, you have to pick dinner.”
Nayuta wasted no time in answering that question, “I want pancakes.”
You rolled your eyes, bemused. “What if I want burgers though?”
Nayuta looked at you carefully, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility. “We want burgers and pancakes,” she told Himeno a second later.
“Burgers and pancakes,” Himeno said more to herself than anyone else. “Alright, I can work with that.”
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translation notes:
i. happy end ii. it’s pure love iii. sorry iv. the story of hikoboshi and orihime v. “don’t go, don’t go, don’t go! don’t go anywhere! don’t go away! stay with me forever!” the control devil shouted. her soul shouted. vi. word of oath vii. old friend viii. makima and nayuta
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universe-friday · 2 months
Text
EXCERPT #22:
Hello. I hope somebody is listening.
[...]
I have a question for you, old sport.
Have you ever had a dream you woke up from, despite wanting it to last forever? Maybe, even thinking that it would last forever? Just to be disappointed as you realise you wake up, back in the same place you’ve always been?
It’s almost a nightly recurrence for me now. Seeing you in my dreams, February.
How is it possible for dreams to be the impossible idea of heaven? Of a utopia? When every time you wake up, you live a recurring nightmare?
I dream of the times we spent together, all that time ago, February. Such simple tasks and activities we thought so little of, are suddenly only a figment of my mind’s creation.
However, my most recent dream was a little different. While, usually, my dreams include us spending time talking, hanging out, doing fun activities together, lately, we haven’t been doing as much.
The dreams have gotten quieter. We talk less. Although we still spend time together, it just felt different.
In my most recent dream, we were on a train. The carriage was silent, with no one else but the two of us sitting across from one another. All I could hear was the soft chugs and squeaks from the train moving beneath our feet.
It was peaceful. Though, strange, as I realised something was off.
My dreams often exist in another reality. A reality outside the City. A reality where I am free, with you, February.
While the inside of this carriage felt familiar, being the alternative reality I dream of, as I glanced outside of the window, I was faced with this wide view of the City. My dreams were now merging with my reality.
But we were protected. And we were together.
As we both stared outside the window for hours, watching everyone in the City, we were together.
I wonder now, is this where you watch us from, February?
You see us, you see me. Day and night, protected from the City’s forces from a birdseye view.
But yet, the train never stops. Have you ever seen a train station in the City?
I only wish for you to have company in the train carriage, like how I had you. It must feel lonely otherwise. While the City is isolating in its own regard, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like for you up there. I hope I can join you one day. Perhaps then you wouldn’t think too badly of it.
Nothing was ever too bad with you here.
Sometimes it feels like everything would be fixed if you were still here, February.
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infiniteeight8 · 6 months
Note
magical artifact chose Tony Stark
I originally had a different idea for this, a cute one, but I just couldn’t make it come together. So, have over 500 words of Titan AU Infinity Stone stuff instead.
-
The moment Tony lays his hands on the gauntlet, intending to pull it off of Thanos’ hand, Titan blinks out around him and he finds himself in a wide, watery plain reflecting bright reddish-gold clouds, like an eternal, all encompassing sunset. 
“Send me back to Titan!” he shouts, because right now nothing—not who brought him here, not why, not how—matters more than getting that gauntlet off Thanos.
Peace, Tony Stark. The voice reverberates from all around him. We speak within a single instant in Time. 
“Great, wonderful, we can talk after, okay?” Tony says impatiently. “I gotta go save the universe.”
You will fail. Despite the words, it doesn’t feel like a threat. Tony can feel the grief that comes with them. 
“Strange says we’ve got a chance.” A one in fourteen million chance, but a chance nonetheless.
Time is powerful, the voice agrees. They found their bearer a path to save many. Perhaps even most. But not all. Billions will still be lost.
Tony swallows hard. Billions lost is better than trillions, but he’s not sure he’d call it a win. “You saying you can do better?”
Not alone. But together, Time and I can prevail.
He knows, then. “You’re an infinity stone.”
Yes.
“Reality?” It would make sense, with the way the world had been remade around him.
Soul.
Tony swallows hard. He’d never really believed in souls. But there are bigger concerns right now. “What’s the catch?” 
I have been held in isolation for millenia, the stone says. Starved of my purpose until I could not help but claim any soul offered to me. I wish to be free. I wish to choose my bearer, as Time did, and walk among the trillions of souls of the universe freely.
“Sure,” Tony says, heart pounding. “One bearer, coming right up. You help me out, I’ll find you just the right guy.”
I choose you, Tony Stark.
“Hey now! I have a life, responsibilities!”
The stone is implacable. There is much on your homeworld to interest me. I will be happy to spend a few lifetimes there to begin.
To begin. To begin. “I take it immortality is a part of this gig?” Tony never wanted to be the first one to die, but he hadn’t wanted to be the last, either. 
We will not be alone. Of course it knew his fears. It was the Soul Stone. Time and their bearer will be with us.
Tony barked a laugh. “Does Strange know you’re signing him up for this gig?”
No, but I have seen his soul. He will welcome us.
The stone’s confidence resonated. Hard to argue with something that could see souls. And if it could see souls, then it surely knew the shape of Tony’s. It knew how he weighed his sacrifices. It galled him to admit, but with billions of lives and the future of Tony’s nightmares in the balance, the Stone’s willingness to come with him to Earth and let him live this lifetime was generous.
And he wouldn’t have to do it alone. No one had ever made Tony believe that before, but the Soul Stone’s certainty was pervasive.
Tony closed his eyes for a long, long moment. 
Opening them, he nodded sharply. “You’ve got a deal.”
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blakeswritingimagines · 5 months
Text
Lovefool
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A/N: Part 2 of Only Love Can Hurt Like This
Word Count: 2.6k
The next few months after Trevor's confession was a blur to you. You did your best to cope and accept the fact that he had fallen for another girl, but it was not easy for you to move on. You kept asking yourself what went wrong and where did your love go. The feeling of betrayal was always with you, lingering in your mind constantly. But despite everything that happened, you still had to continue your life, having to maintain appearances in front of the people who cared or knew what happened. Eventually, you had to learn to live with the pain of losing Trevor to another woman. As time went on, you did your best to move on and accept the new reality. You put on a brave face in front of everyone, but inside, your heart was still broken. You missed him dearly, Trevor, and you normally would have done anything to have your love back. But those were wishes that you figured would never come true. Your life continued forward, and you eventually found peace and happiness again. But a part of you will always wonder what could have been if things had turned out differently between you two. Even though the passage of time has made the pain easier to digest, there was a constant hole in Trevor's heart as his thoughts often wandered back to the time he spent with you. The memories together often filled his mind, the fun times and the happy moments together always seeming so vivid and alive. He often found himself missing your touch and the way you both used to laugh together, the sweet way you kissed his cheeks, and the love in your eyes. He often thought about how different life could have been had you decided to give him another chance, to forgive him for his ignorance, his mistake.
No longer able to help himself from wanting to call or see you and finally just started making his way to your place. The thought of trying to reconcile with you after everything that had happened felt daunting, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance to fix the relationship. Would you be willing to talk to him and give him a second chance? So, he decided to take the initiative and went to talk to you. When he got to the front door and knocked, he nervously waited for a response. Whether it would be your voice or someone else's, it was hard to tell, but deep down he hoped it was you. You slowly open the door and see Trevor standing right there in front of you, all anxious and nervous. The sight of him immediately made your heart beat faster, your mind filled with a million thoughts, all of them conflicting with each other. The thought of forgiving him and giving him a second chance filled your heart with hope and doubt at the same time. You still loved him even when he hurt you the most, and you hated that part of you. All the conflicting thoughts in your head slowly cleared as you finally decided to do what your heart had been telling you to. Your expression is of surprise as you see him in front of you. "Trevor? What are you doing here?" For a moment, you couldn't believe your eyes, wondering if this was just a dream. Did he really come back to you to talk?
His heart skips a beat when he sees you open the door. He knew that this moment would come with a variety of emotions, and as he saw the look on your face, he could only hope that you still felt the same. He was relieved that you were willing to see him and talk things out with him hopefully, even if he didn't know what the outcome would be. "Can we talk for a second? I need to tell you something. It's important." His voice was shaky, but he needed to say what he needed to say and hope for the best. His heart pounded quickly as he noticed the way you looked at him, a mixture of surprise and relief washed over his face. "It's really me. I'm here to talk to you. Please… Can we talk?" He nervously stepped forward into your space, taking in his surroundings and looking at you expectantly. "Please… Can you give me a chance… Can we try again? I know I've made some mistakes, but it's been eating me up inside and I had to come to talk to you." Your surprise and relief quickly turned into anger when you realized that he was there to ask for a second chance. How could you forgive a traitor like him? But there is still a part of you that loves him even if he has hurt you. “You think talking will solve everything? The word “mistake” is not enough. If you still care about me and our love for each other, why did you hurt me and choose Melissa over me??? You knew that this would hurt me, but you still did it anyway. I was a fool to fall for your sweet talk and empty promise to me.”
He looked at you with sadness and regret as you spoke, and he realized that it would not be easy to fix everything between you two. He understood your anger, and he was ready to face any consequences as a result of his actions. "You're right. Words are not enough, and I knew that hurting you would cause irreparable damage to our relationship. But I'm here now not to make excuses, but to do something about it. I want to fix things between us. Can I please ask for a second chance?" He asked tentatively, hoping that you would give him a chance. He looked at you meeting your eyes with sadness and regret as he saw your emotions play across your face. He knew that it would be a difficult process to rebuild your relationship, but he refused to give up on you two just yet. "Please hear me out. I never meant to hurt you, and I certainly did not choose Melissa over you. My feelings for you are real, just like my love. Please understand that my feelings for Melissa did not invalidate the love that I have for you in any way. I am so sorry that this hurt you, but I have to be honest with you." As his words pierce your heart, you realize how much he has changed from the guy that you have spent most of your life with. Your voice was trembling wildly each time you tried to speak, trying to control your calm in front of him. But it hurts so much to see the person that you loved having feelings for another girl and he did not even care about your feelings at the moment. You looked at him, the face with sadness and anger as he spoke to you, wanting you to listen and give him a chance to fix everything.
"You never meant to hurt me?" Your eyes widened from shock as you heard those words from Trevor, but realized that this must be a joke, right? He really did have the nerve to ask you for a second chance… but there is a part of you that really does care and love him. You slowly stepped towards him, but your face was full of anger and distrust toward him, especially with what seemed to be Melissa in the picture. "Fine… But only this once. Now, tell me. What do you want to say?" You look at him expectantly, waiting for his words and his explanation. He watched you as you slowly stepped towards him, your anger, distrust, and doubts about him still lingering in your mind. But a small part of you, your heart, still wanted to give him a second chance to make this work. "You have no idea how much I want to fix all this mess. I know that my words mean nothing right now, after what I did to you, but please give me another chance. I will prove to you that I still care and love you and that I want to make this work. I will do everything in my power to make it up to you." As he looked at you standing in front of him with all those emotions and anger boiling inside you, he realized that he had an opportunity to fix the relationship, but he knew that he would have to do what he could to convince you that his love for you was true and that his mistake was real as well. "Everything I told you is true. I love you, and I only wanted to be with you. I also wanted to be with Melissa, that is not gonna lie to you, but that does not change the fact that I am deeply in love with you."
"But what if you change your mind again? What if you leave me for Melissa next time?" You said, as more tears rolled down your cheeks, but deep down you wished to believe Trevor. You wanted to believe in his love. Please. Please let this chance you have can be the last one to fix everything between you both as you thought to yourself. "But how can you love two people at the same time? It doesn't make sense. And please don't tell me you have a crush on her… Did you have a crush on her? Why am I even asking these stupid questions…" You close your eyes and take a deep breath, listening intently to his explanation. You believe that this conversation has gotten this far because you still love him… "So if I decided to give you another chance to redeem yourself. It will not be easy, but the fact that you want me to give us another chance shows me you love me. Just to be clear before I give you another chance… You still love me more than Melissa though, right?" You looked at him with a serious look, wanting him to answer honestly.
"Baby, even if you gave me a hundred chances, I would still choose you over Melissa every single time. Melissa was just a crush, that is all. The idea of being with her never compares to being with you. When I am with you, there is no one who can ever replace you in my heart. It was a mistake of mine to confess my feelings to Melissa, one I will not make again, but in order for you to fully trust me, I need to be honest about how I feel. And how I feel is that my heart only and fully belongs to you." He gently cupped your face enjoying being so close to you again "If I had to choose between Melissa or you, there is no question in my mind that I would choose you right away. You are my world, and there is no one else that could ever surpass my love for you. We have been through so much together, and I want to make things work between us." He looked at you and slowly took one step closer to you. "Please give me another chance. I don't want to lose you to my mistake."
You were torn apart when you felt him holding you and talking sweet words. You were afraid that this would hurt you more than before, but there was a small part of you that wanted to trust Trevor again. You hated this feeling, but now you were stuck in this never-ending confusion and conflict. Your heart wanted to be with Trevor again, while your head told you to stay away as far as possible or else it would lead to more pain and suffering. After a brief pause, you gently removed his hand that cupped your face and looked at him with a frown. "Oh, really!? How do you even know you won't have another crush on any other girl… What if in the future, you suddenly confessed your feelings to another woman? How do you know for certain that your heart will always belong to me?" You slowly closed your eyes, remembering the time when you were happily together. But, with everything with Melissa, your heart feels uneasy right now if you should fully trust him or not. Yet, you can't deny that you love him dearly. All these things are too much for you to bear.
"Baby, I promise you that I am not going to fall in love with anyone else but you. You are the love of my life, and I am not willing to throw that away for some crush that will pass and fade with time. It is you that my heart belongs to, my love. So please, give me a second chance." He took your hand, hoping that with one more chance, you would be able to reconcile and find happiness together again. He could see the pain and doubt in your eyes, as he tried to hold back his tears in this moment. He knew that you were trying your best to believe what he was saying, but your heart was fighting hard to resist the urge to trust him. He slowly took one more step closer to you to reach up and hold your face with both of his hands, trying desperately to prove to you that he meant every word he said. "Please believe me when I say that I will never have another crush on anyone else but you. There's only you that I want right now." You felt his warmth as he cupped your face with his hands. It was comforting. You can feel your heart softening toward him, but the fear and doubt still linger in the back of your mind. You felt his words hit your heart and you find yourself struggling to fight your true feelings toward him. But deep inside, a part of you wanted him to keep those words and mean them. You finally found yourself to open your eyes and look directly at him. Maybe you can give him this chance. Maybe this time, you don't have to hold any resentment toward him.
"I-" The touch of his hand against your skin slowly melted away all your anger and doubt. You looked at him with tearful eyes, nodding slowly at this chance to start fresh with him once again. "I… I will try again with you, Trevor. I want to believe that I am the one you love, and there is no one else. Let's leave the past behind and look forward to the future." You smiled softly. "Please kiss me," you said, as you closed your eyes to feel the first kiss of a renewed relationship. He felt a rush of relief in his heart as he saw you open yourself up to him again. He knew that it would take time to rebuild the relationship and trust, but he was glad that he was given that chance once again. He leaned forward and kissed you slowly and passionately as if making up all of the time that you had been apart. At this moment, all his love for you returned to him, and the pain and heartache started to fade away slowly as he enjoyed the embrace of your touch. He saw the smile play across your face as you nodded slowly, and he let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't believe that he was able to salvage your relationship, and he felt a tinge of joy as you had the chance to move forward. And without hesitation, he brought his lips to yours again. As you both kissed, you lost yourself in the moment, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you reconnected after so many months apart. It was a moment that he never thought would come, but he was grateful to have you back.
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platrom · 1 year
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Long Distance.
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Izuku Midoriya x Reader
WORD COUNT: 1608 words
NOTE: Yes, the continuation of “One Last Time” is being written. This is just an old draft I finished up while writing the second part of it.
This will likely have a second part if you guys want one. Enjoy. :)
TW: Reader is in America for an internship Midoriya is in Japan, mentions of cuts & bruises & broken bones, mention of being heroes, Izuku and the reader are dating since they were in UA, homesickness, mentions of Bakugou, everyone in Class 1A missing the reader, reader sleeping and waking up from slumber, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of worrying over reader, no specified gender for reader
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“I wish you could see yourself like the rest of the world does.”
His tone is so soft, the pitch so low that the quiet affirmation barely reaches your ears. You teeter on the edge of slipping into a peaceful slumber, mind lulled to sleep by Izuku’s familiar and comforting rambling.
It reminds you of the nights you spent as heroes in training cuddled up to each other, talking aimlessly about the futures ahead of you. Both of you had been so buoyant and youthful, filled with life and freedom; it had felt as if you carry the world on your shoulders if you truly desired to.
That energizing passion and life that once burned brighter than the stars above is one you miss.
After you had become a hero and moved away to America for your final internship, it felt like that unfaltering blaze had been blown away, its embers lost in the darkness of midnight. The harsh reality of the world had finally settled— the Earth had chosen you as a subject to its excruciatingly relentless torture.
Everyday, you returned to your tiny apartment with massive splotches of purple and blue decorating your skin, deep and shallow cuts, and even broken bones if a pesky villain had gotten the upper hand against you. The cost of living was rather extreme; especially for such a compact and small apartment in an area where crime rates were fairly high and the smog clouded the once resplendent sapphire sky. The streets were packed with obnoxiously loud cars, rude drivers, nosy neighbors, and creatures that stomped on all greenery planted for the purpose of decoration or environmental reasons. However, the sidewalks were empty; nothing was in walking vicinity. All had to be done through some form of vehicle transportation, whether that be with trains, cars, motorcycles, or bikes.
You miss when you could walk down to your local grocery market to shop for household essentials. You miss the familiarity of Japan, the common sight of children, teens, and adults alike congregated in the wide streets traveling to their home, workplaces, or to the store. You miss the smell of sizzling street food in the air, the aromatic fragrance of decedent meals coaxing you to hand local shops wads of bills to taste the divinity of such meals. You miss walking hand in hand with your friends down the streets of Japan, giggling and chattering about the mundane parts of life and school.
Being homesick is a feeling you never expected to wash over you so gradually; it was one that you predicted to never even occur.
When you first left for America, waving at your family and friends, pure elation and butterflies streamed through your bloodstream, mind high off of adrenaline and the promise of a new land piled with opportunities and refreshing experiences. Not a sliver of doubt could be traced, only determination and naivety.
The things you would do to go back to Japan were unfathomable.
“We all miss you, even Kacchan does. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he always pays attention when your name is mentioned.”
The fuzziness of sleep plaguing your system slowly drains away, the once slowed beating of your heart picking up to a steady thrum. It wasn’t peculiar to hear Midoriya mention your former classmates or family and their welfare. Yet, he always abstained from explaining how they felt about your relocation; instead, he would inform you that they all missed you and couldn’t wait for you to return from America.
But to hear Bakugou specifically had been missing you? That was quite odd.
Throughout the entirety of the years you spent alongside Bakugou, he had never particularly paid attention to you. The minimal interactions between you both stemmed from academic assignments, group sparing sessions, or the basic verbal exchange in the common room for common essentials. You didn’t know him like Kirishima or Midoriya did— nor like the rest of his friend group did.
Alas, it appeared that long-term separation affects a person more than anyone gives it credit for.
“When I watch you on TV, (Name), I can’t help but get worried about whether or not you’ll be okay. It scares me to know I can’t protect you from villains like I could before. The possibility that I have to watch you die in front of my eyes through a screen is one that haunts me.”
Izuku had always been an honest and expressive man to you. He always communicated with you about his concerns, worries, and allowed you to voice yours.
This, however, was something you had never heard.
“I know how hard you are on yourself. I know that you push yourself to point that even when you have nothing left to give, you still find something to give.”
His voice cracks as he pours his heart out to you supposed sleeping self, the ends of his words becoming fainter and fainter in a poor attempt to disguise the likely tears that are forming in his jade eyes. Whenever Izuku cried while talking, a distinct trembling, a change in stability of his tone was audible to the ears. Even after all this time of being apart, you can still recognize his cues.
Though, Izuku had been right. As of late, you had been working yourself down to the bone; whenever you reached that breaking point, you merely ignored the reality and continued to stretch yourself thinner and thinner even when your body screamed against it. You had always been the type to do so, especially in your younger years.
Bad habits die hard.
“And I know as heroes it doesn’t seem like it, but we have a long life to live. Together.”
A shaky intake of breath is heard through the phone. He lets out a broken sigh.
“I love you, (Name). I love you a lot. And I know because of our distance and different time zones, you don’t hear it enough. But it’s true. I really do love you.”
It’s a tired confession, but it holds all the meaning and love that Izuku Midoriya possessed in his entire body for you. A faint warmth blossoms in your face and you clutch at your pillow in anticipation, unsure of what words would fall from his mouth next. The erratic pounding of your heart against your ribcage sends your face deeper into the cushioning of your pillow.
“I . . . ” he rustles on the other side and a few sniffles are heard. “I just can’t wait for you to come home. None of us can. So please come home soon, (Name).”
In your mind, you’re aware Izuku is reaching to close the line connecting you both. But you don’t want that.
Not now, not ever.
“Sleep well, (Name).”
“Izuku?” you call out tentatively.
But you’re too late.
There’s a beep that signals the call has ended and you’re left alone in the darkness with your thoughts.
Did he even hear you?
You wish you knew.
You really, really did.
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