#and well without the SOUL now their life is kind of A Mess. I mean look they don’t have it anymore and now they’re a villain /jokey | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

Note

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT-

A oneshot where the rest of the hazbin crew finding out that Alastor already owned Reader's soul?! Fluff btw!

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"Some overlord owns your soul?? Who?!"

Reader: "hahaha.. I wonder who.."

Husk: "you don't wanna know."

Alastor sipping his tea on the other side of the room (obviously listening in)

Alastor - [ HIDDEN HEARTSTRINGS ]

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[ SFW ] + [ FLUFF ] [ SLIGHT LANGUAGE WARNING ]

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The Hotel was abuzz with life; Charlie rushed around checking in with everyone as they worked on various tasks, and said occupants tried their best to focus amid her constant scurrying.

The Princess of Hell had decided a Grand Opening event would benefit the Hotel.

You didn’t think it was half a bad idea, recently a resident of the newly improved establishment yourself and a sinner with a rare knack for helping others. The promise of redemption did seem silly to you, but the idea was fresh, and you desired to see if it was possible before completely disregarding the Princess’s dream.

You gave a helping hand whenever asked, smiled as kind as ever, and had a genuine nature subtly, inviting the others closer into your friendly aura.

Angel referred to you often as the “sweetest doll in the shop,” poking fun at your generous endeavors, but truly a fan of your presence nonetheless. Vaggie came to you for advice often, needing a calmer voice of reason when Charlie’s overbearing tendencies became too much for her, and you’d give your time graciously. Husk and Niffty, you knew all too well before you arrived at the Hotel, generally comfortable in their company and able to enjoy a drink with them occasionally.

Everyone cherished you in one way or another, which showed significantly in their approach to you.

Angel, as vulgar as he was, tended not to tease you as often as the others. Though there were times he couldn’t resist a good jab at your modesty, amused by how quickly you blushed while attempting to stutter out an equally snarky remark.

The two of you were at it now, taunting one another while giving a once over of the hotel's new advertisement flyers, but your focus was nowhere near the polished posters as you tried to retort Angel's last statement. He’d made another comment about your avoidance of the hotel's resident facilities manager.

Alastor…

The mere sound of his name made you skittish and visibly flustered, and Angel took notice of said reactions very quickly. “You sleepin’ around with him, aren’t ya toots?…” He snickered as you froze up, ears fluttering down as your eyes widened in his direction, “N-no!? Angel…you shouldn’t say things like that!” You puffed your cheeks out, the tip of your ears turning bright red as the spider demon cackled across from you, “Hah! You aren’t denying it either, doll face, so now I know it’s true!..”

“No, it’s not Angel!…” you grumbled childishly, glancing around the room apprehensively as if the overload would emerge from the shadows at any moment, and he very well could…

However, Alastor remained hidden, shadow lingering on an armchair in the dimmest corner of the room, and his attention fully fixed on your exchange with the raunchy spider as it progressed.

The deer demon was intrigued by the interaction, mildly curious about how you’d handle Angels prying, and quietly prideful of his effect on you.

“You can’t fool me toots. I see how you look at ‘em’ when he’s in a room. He breathes, and you’re a mess! It’s actually kinda cute how much you like him!” You glared at Angel, ears standing straight as you seethed at him, “I. Don’t. Like. Him…”

He clicked his tongue, leaning forward with a coy smirk, “Really? So it’s just a coincidence you get all nervous around him but do everything he says without question?… “ Angel was unfazed by the quiet growl you responded with, “That doesn’t mean I fancy him-“

“Okay, so how else would you explain it then?” Angel sat back, arms folding over his chest and torso as he peered at you expectantly.

By this point, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk were listening to the rift between you two. Although, Husk lost notable interest when he realized the subject of discussion while the others subconsciously chimed in without warning.

“He’s right, though..” Vaggie stared at you intensely, trying to piece together clues you swore weren’t there, to begin with, and Charlie soon joined her in the friendly interrogation. “Did you know Alastor before you came here or something? You do act a little off when he’s around…”

For the love of Satan!

Why couldn’t they just let it go?!?

You huffed and hung your head, agitated with so much attention being thrown onto you and becoming uncomfortable under pressure.

The matter of your soul belonging to Alastor was a subject you weren’t fond of breaching for several reasons.

1. Everyone would want to know why and how the arrangement occurred.

2. You were afraid they’d look at you differently, as less than worthy of being treated as a friend or reduced to being Alastor’s property and nothing else…

In reality, you meant much more to the overload than that, but no sinner needed to know such a thing, and to an extent, you weren't aware of his affection either.

Alastor preferred it that way.

It gave the overlord a vague thrill to leave you clueless about his infatuation while enjoying the way you couldn’t hide your adoration for him…

He chuckled to himself watching you squirm under the group's collective curiosity, admiring the deep rose color that set into your cheeks as you pouted.

Precious little thing…

The stag’s grin grew as the thought settled in his mind, eyes hooding over as a hum filled his chest, and though the sound was quiet, you still heard it.

He was there.

In the same room.

Waiting and watching…

Fantastic…

A small groan fell from your lips as you lifted your head, gaze shifting around the room to pinpoint where Alastor was, but there was no trace of him…

Or so you thought…

“My, my, you all are a nosy bunch! Leave the poor dear alone …” Alastor appeared behind you, mic in one hand while the other came to rest on your head.

He petted your hair softly, silently comforting your frazzled state, and you welcomed the gesture with a soft sigh.

Angel raised a brow at the sight, gaze shifting from your content expression to Alastor’s satisfied one as he caressed your ears. “See, this is what I was talking about. You act as if he owns you or something-“

Alastor whipped his head in Angel's direction, startling him and the others a bit as he interjected the observation. “That’s because I do own her, my good man. Mind. Body. & Soul…” The air grew thick with static, an uneasy wave of tension drowning the hotel lobby as Alastor glared daggers at everyone.

However, you still sat obediently under his touch without anxiety clouding your demeanor.

Charlie laughed nervously while Vaggie’s eyes widened as the revelation dawned on them both. Angel's mouth fell open, and Husk grumbled before rolling his eyes.

“Thought it was obvious…” the winged feline mumbled to no one in particular, refocusing on organizing the bar's alcohol arrangement as the conversation carried on.

“A-Alastor owns your soul?” Charlie asked, clearly shocked but actively masking it with a light-hearted tone. You nod slowly, choosing not to speak as his claws scratch behind your ears tenderly.

Vaggie shrugged, “Now, it makes sense…”

Angel finally clasped his mouth shut, stifling a laugh as he leaned further back into the parlor's sofa. “So I was right!” He shouted triumphantly, which earned a side glare from you. “Oh, shut up! Just because he owns my soul doesn’t mean I like him…”

Alastor gave you a quizzical look, humming thoughtfully as he processed your words, “Is that so, my dear?… You feel nothing for me at all?…”

Oh….maybe I shouldn’t have said that-!

Your mind raced to find a suitable reply, but all you could manage was a shaky laugh. “W-well, I wouldn’t say…’n-nothing’…”

His smile grew, “Would you like to elaborate on your true feelings for me in private, then?…”

“Sounds kinky…” Angels mumbled cheekily while flashing a closed-eye smirk, but neither Alastor nor you offered the remark a response.

“Wait, where’d they go?!..” The spider demon sat up pin straight as he realized you two were no longer in the room. The only sign left of your disappearance was the lingering tufts of black shadows swirling the spot he’d seen you and Alastor occupying a moment ago.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, turning on her heel to return to the task she’d left undone moments ago, “Not my business…” she sighed.

Charlie followed after her, stuck between confusion and giddiness over the newfound information, “I would’ve never thought Y/n belonged to Alastor. Wait, do you think she can still be redeemed, or are there strings attached…?”

Her rambling continued on as everyone found themselves busy again.

Everyone except you and Alastor…

You found yourself all alone with the owner of your soul, hidden in his infamous Radio Tower with the beginnings of a confession poised to slip from your tongue as he sat you in his lap.

“Now, I believe you were going to tell me exactly how you feel, darling….” Alastor lowered his head, hands resting on your waist to keep you flush against his chest, and your heart nearly flew from your chest as he did.

“You have my full attention, sweetheart.”

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I rewrote this five times….all because of writer's block :( ❤️ someone please send help -I'm hanging on by a thread rn…

[ NO BONUS CONTENT - ]

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teyamsatan · 1 year

Text

High Infidelity II

Adult!Neteyam x (f)Metkayina!Reader x Aonung

Warnings: cheating, aonung being an absolute dick, cursing, 18+ minors dni

Word count: 5.6k words

Notes: besties, you ate this up and i love you for it. seems we all love neteyam mr steal-yo-girl, and i get it, i get it so much. enjoy x

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Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token I didn't know you were keeping count

Your picket fence is sharp as knives I was dancing around, dancing around it

“One day, you’re going to beg me to fuck you. And I’ll do it so well, you will never be able to get me out of your mind, never be able to touch yourself again without an image of my cock slipping in and out of you ingrained in your brain.”

His words lingered in your mind as much as the aftershocks of the pleasure he took out of you lingered in and on your body. You were shaking, shaking with guilt and fear, at what you did, at what just happened, at thoughts of how you could possibly fix this, or hide this, but worst of all, at how much you wanted more. You needed more. You were shaking because it wasn’t enough. Reeling because, right now, even as fear and guilt pooled in you, they held no candle to the desire that settled deep within your soul, that seeped into every facet of your being, into every cell of your body.

You wanted him. You needed him. You wondered briefly if there were any lengths you wouldn’t go to in order to feel this feeling again, to get him to do to you everything you knew he was capable of, everything you couldn’t even imagine, but wanted to find out. As you made your way back to your tent slowly, face flushed and weak knees, trying to adjust your disheveled figure and your wrinkled loincloth, you knew the answer was no. There were no lengths.

You were excited to be able to go to sleep tonight, excited to be able to leave your mind and soul to rest and weigh in the calamitous actions that have transpired in this fateful day, and felt anxiety fill you up as thoughts of the consequences of your actions started bearing down on you. What were you going to do? How would you ever be able to look Aonung or his family in the eye ever again? You were angry at him, so angry, so bitter and hurt at the way he has treated you for so long, at the way it felt like he almost pushed you into this scenario, pushed you to a point of breaking, a point you never thought you’d reach. You were a good girl. Kind, and happy and empathetic and understanding. That’s why you and Tsireya have always had such a strong bond - two girls with no ulterior motives, no underlying agenda, no mean spirit or facetious intentions. Just pure light, emanating and spreading around you to everyone you touched. You stood by Aonung his whole life, you allowed him to change and grow while he shrunk you into a shell of yourself, of who you were, who you could have been if he actually loved you enough, actually cared enough.

Your tent was cold and desolate as you entered it, just like you felt. All alone. The longer Neteyam’s presence and his warmth and his words were removed from your own, the worse you felt, the worse the feelings pooling in the pit of your stomach, nagging at your mind and cursing you, admonishing you for your thoughtless actions and irredeemable mistakes.

“I fucked up again, didn’t I?”

You jolted violently at the voice coming from deep within your tent, enveloped in a blanket of deep, unflinching darkness. You turned towards it, and as your eyes adapted slowly, you could make out Aonung’s body, and the tiny bioluminescent freckles glistening dimly and increasing in size as he moved closer to you.

Your heart thumped in your chest as the one person you didn’t want to see, the one person you couldn’t see without fumbling into a mess of broken heartedness and misery, stood in front of you, shoulders hunched and a forlorn look on his usually peppy and unencumbered face.

“I can’t seem to be able to stop myself from hurting you, from making a mess of a good situation, a good person.”

You gulped silently at his words, trying to push the lump that formed in your throat, that didn’t allow you to speak or to acknowledge his presence, so you just watched him and waited. Waited, as he reached over and took your hand in his, his soft hands a striking difference to Neteyam’s calloused ones, and you cursed yourself for thinking of the Omatikaya boy even in this moment, when he should be pushed away from your thoughts, so far away he should be a dot on the horizon of your mind. His other hand found your cheek, that he was caressing carefully, softly, like you were a doll or a feather that would be blown away at the slightest push or breeze of the wind, which, in this moment, it felt like you were.

“Please look at me. Please.”

He willed your face upwards, putting pressure on your jaw as you refused to meet his gaze, and eventually you had no choice but to see his eyes, those beautiful sky blue eyes that you used to get lost in as a child, that used to shimmer and glow with childlike wonder when they looked at you, eyes that were now red and sad. You winced as you took them in, took him in, as the regret and sorrow almost rolled off of him and into you, amplifying your own pitiful emotions and your ever-growing self-loathing.

“I’m so sorry. I know the words mean nothing coming from my mouth, I know that. I know that no words could ever make it up for the way I’ve been treating you all this time, and how much I have taken your love, your kindness, for granted. You know, you are the only one, the only person in my life that has always stood by me, that has seen me for more than I was, but who I could one day be. I’ve always felt like a failure. My whole life, I have lived in the shadow of my parents, who I have continuously let down by not being who they wanted me to be, who they thought I could be. I have lived my whole life knowing I was a disappointment to them, a stain on their immaculate track record, that was partially erased only by Tsireya’s presence, but was still there, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. But you, you’ve always seen me, you’ve always believed in me. I have loved you my whole life, but when they both ordered me, told me I had no other choice but to be your mate, that you were the only way I could redeem myself in their eyes, you became something else. A burden, another reminder of all the things I’ll never be, all the ways I’ll never be enough for my family. I blamed you for their shortcomings, and my own, and I am sorry.”

The tears were falling flawlessly down your face, like there was no other place for them to be than on your cheeks and on your chest, on his thumbs as he was brushing them away gently.

“I’ll be better, I promise. You deserve better.”

I don’t, you thought miserably. Not anymore.

You barely got out of your tent in the next few days, dread filling you as the marui shook with every person who walked the common pathways that connected all the homes together, as you imagined it was Aonung or Neteyam, or Tsireya, or anyone else who you would have to look at and talk to and lie to. Your mate-to-be was busy, busier than usual with the Omatikaya, who were all getting better in time and as a result, needed more attention with more complicated matters, matters which took effort and patience, and you were glad. In a sick part of your soul, you hoped Aonung would have continued treating you like dirt, like he had for so long, as that would have diminished the guilt eating at you, guilt that now engulfed your every happy thought, every ray of light in you and replaced it with dark thoughts and heavy resentment for everyone involved. You tried so hard to stop thinking of Neteyam, of his hands and his lips and his words, and hated him for doing this, hated him for the effect he had on you, for turning you from an innocent soul into this, an adulterer, a liar, a mess of depraved thoughts and desires, pulsating through your body and settling in your core, that ached to be filled, that was dying to feel him, to be ruined by his touch, that was so powerful that it took everything in you, every ounce of focus and self-restraint to drown it, instead of letting it drown you.

A few more days passed and you knew it was time to face the world, and face your fears. Your eyes settled on the new bracelet now adorning your arm, crafted by him with some of the most beautiful beads, pebbles and shells you have ever seen. An apology gift, he called it. As you thought about it, and about him, a revelation hit you, spreading its gleam all around you and bringing new breath in your lungs.

A new beginning. You both deserved a new beginning. You both deserved the chance to start over. You made mistakes. A big one in particular. But so did he. So many of them. You both screwed up, but you could move past. He wanted to, why shouldn’t you want to? He was your mate-to-be, he was your chosen one, your betrothed, your friend since childhood. You both deserved a second chance. You wanted to try. You had to try, you owed it to yourself and to him to try to give this a chance.

And now was the best time to do it, as you knew from Tsireya that she was taking the Sullys to the Cove of the Ancestors today, which meant Aonung was most likely training with his father.

Neteyam was a mistake. A mistake you wouldn’t make again. You had to try.

You had to try.

As you suspected, Aonung was deep in training with his father, who looked up and smiled widely as his eyes fixated on your approaching form. You liked Chief Tonowari. He was kind and gentle, and he was excited about the prospect of you joining their family. You wondered briefly if he could ever understand, if he knew how much his excitement on the matter inadvertently caused you grief, and put strain in between you and his son and made the bond that much more difficult to deal with, the idea that much harder to swallow.

You greeted him, smiling in his direction and the smile faltered slightly as you and Aonung made eye-contact. He was still embarrassed about his actions, and still thought you were distant because you hadn’t forgiven him yet. You hadn’t, but your need for distance had dark undertones he could never even imagine, and you didn’t want him to.

“Are you here to train with us?” The Olo’eyktan chuckled a little at his joke. You were no warrior and he knew that. You didn’t have the stomach for such things, preferring to keep to yourself and to help from the sidelines, the gift of the Tsahik running through your veins from a young age.

“Not quite, just here to see your son.”

“If your parents don’t come back in time, you should join us for the celebration of the tulkun returning. We’d love to have you, and I’m sure my children would, too.”

“I’d love to. Thank you for the invitation.”

Elation enveloped you as the horn that announced the return of the tulkun was blown, and you immediately left your tent and dove straight into the warm, clear-blue water and called for your trusty ilu, your good friend, hurrying towards your spirit sister, that you knew was waiting for you. It was a day of bliss, of celebration, of happiness in the clan, the most important day of the year, that marked the beginning of days of festivities and rituals, and you couldn’t wait. It was like the universe, like Eywa was giving you a chance, a clear sign that the tides were changing, and you could be changing with them, embracing the new and discarding the old.

You heard her sooner than you saw her, her indistinguishable voice propelled through the water straight to your ears and through your body, filling you with relief and light. Her trills and stories allowed you to relax for the first time in so long, and you listened as she told you tales of her travels, of all the memories she’s made in the year you’ve been apart. When it was your turn, you did the same, stopping at the story you wanted most to tell, but knew you couldn’t, even to her.

“There’s more that you want to say, isn’t there? I know you’re keeping something from me, something important, something life-altering.”

You winced and scowled in her direction, upset at how well she knew you, at how connected you were. You looked around you, trying to see if anyone would be paying attention to you, and noted all Metkayina were too busy with their own stories, their own reunions, for you to matter in the slightest.

“I met someone. He makes me feel things I have never felt before. He makes me question my life, and everything in it. He treats me well, and says all the right things, but it’s wrong, it’s a mistake. He’s a mistake. I’m trying to fix it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

“Sometimes, people come in our lives as mirrors to ourselves. Mirrors to our soul, allowing us to see the truth in who we are, the truth of what we want. To shine a light on the darkness within, on the deepest parts of us we would have never seen without them. Sometimes, that’s the only way for light to enter in places it would have never reached otherwise.”

You had no answer to that, and you hoped whichever mirror Neteyam held to your soul didn’t lead to so much darkness it would overtake you and the people you loved, the people you never wanted to hurt.

The celebrations were as beautiful as they always were, surrounded by music and cheering, dancing and good food, love and friendship. You were happy if not a little nervous to spend this time with your soon-to-be in-laws, and that happiness quickly vanished as you realised you were to be joined by the Sullys.

Aonung had a small smile on his face as he spotted you, and you tried your best to focus on him and not behind him, at the man staring at you with such intensity it was making you acutely aware of your own heartbeat, that now sounded painfully in your ears and against your eardrums. The whole world drowned around you, as it always seemed to when his presence was near yours, and Tsireya had to shake you, in order to bring attention to herself and back to the present, back to them.

“Sister, are you alright?

“Yes, Tsireya. I am fine, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.”

She laughed a little at you, but then took your hand and guided you to the strangers who were eyeing curiously.

“Sister, these are the Sullys. My dad invited them for the celebrations, as it is their first return of the tulkun. This is Jakesulli, the former Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and Toruk Makto, Neytiri, the former Tsakarem of the Omatikaya, and their children, Neteyam, Kiri, Lo’ak and Tuk.”

You tried your best to force a natural smile out.

“It’s nice to meet you. I have heard a lot about you all, about some of you more than the others.” You eyed Tsireya playfully and your eyes briefly moved towards Lo’ak, who you knew Tsireya took a liking to. The entire family laughed at your joke, and at Tsireya and Lo’ak’s bashful and embarrassed looks. You felt a small twinge of jealousy for Tsireya, who was able to freely choose her mate, to freely love a Sully without contention or judgement, or pressure, and was obviously loved the same in return, as the Sully looked at her like the sun rose in her eyes. You didn’t know what that felt like, at least not until you met Neteyam, a man who you couldn’t have, a man who you couldn’t keep your thoughts from gravitating towards, a man who was eyeing you like he was undressing you with his gaze alone. You swallowed harshly, trying to contend with his presence and the wetness gathering in your beaded loincloth.

After dinner, the adults dismissed you, knowing deep down you all would much rather go and enjoy your time with the rest of the Metkayina youth, who knew how to celebrate, especially on nights like this. You were young adults now, and young adults got to go off on their own, and got to have their own kind of parties that the adults could no longer prohibit you from enjoying. That’s where you were headed. It was wild, and it was hot. It was everything you were afraid of growing up, and everything you craved now, more so by the day, it seemed. Mates and prospective mates were dancing sensually with each other, cups filled with alcohol made of the plants growing in the mangrove jungles deep within the island and spilling on and around them with each undulation of their bodies. You loved it, loved your traditions that were unique within the Na’vi people, that no other clan knew about or experienced quite the same way. You smiled as Tsireya handed you a cup and watched as Rot’xo poured some of the drink into everyone’s cup, and you all signalled an I See You to each other before taking a small sip, enjoying the way the warm liquid left burning traces as it made its way down your throat.

You watched as the rest of the your companions did the same, and chuckled a little at the way Kiri and Lo’ak and Tsireya reacted to the drink, clearly their first time trying something like this.

“That’s all you get, youngsters. I don’t want to have to drag any of you back home in a couple of hours and have to face the wrath of either Olo’eyktan.” You heard Aonung say, as he removed the jug from Rot’xo’s hands and kept it for himself. “Now go, enjoy yourselves. Show the forest people how we, Metkayina, do things.”

There it was again, that mischievous glint in his eyes, and you pondered how will the alcohol affect your mate-to-be this time. It was always a surprise, ranging from kind and sweet and loving, to aloof and despondent, to angry and wanting to pick fights with whomever was unfortunate enough to be close by. He took your hand and pulled on it gently, willing you away, away from sight, away from the others. You followed him, unable to stop yourself form glancing behind you one last time, and wishing it was someone else doing it instead. When your eyes met Neteyam’s, you knew he felt the same, and you tried to remove the image of the hurt flashing across his face from your memory, knowing he wasn’t yours to care for, and you weren’t his to take away.

You and Aonung sat down on the warm, golden sand that now glowed with bioluminescent plankton whenever the water hit it, and you felt your body relax at the calming, rhythmic sound of the waves that cleared your mind and soul of the anguish that seemed to constantly plague it recently. A constant tug of war lived within you, between what you wanted, what you needed, and what you felt was the right thing to do. You didn’t know which was going to win, but you knew it was a lose-lose situation regardless. You either lost your innocence, and the trust of the people you loved, or yourself. You didn’t know which was worse.

The Metkayina young man poured more alcohol in your cup and you welcomed it, welcome the opportunity for your mind to quiet, no matter how that was accomplished. You felt the alcohol going to your head quickly, making a mess of your thoughts and lifting your spirits. You and Aonung stayed like this, talking comfortably, just like you used to do when you were younger, and you felt grateful for the memories, and grateful that the drunk Aonung you got was this, the nice and charming version of himself you have always loved, you have always hoped for.

“Remember when we were fifteen and I convinced you to sneak out and go outside of the reef to Three Brothers Rocks? It took forever for me to talk you into it, but I think you were happy once we arrived and you found pebbles and shells you never could on the beach. I remember looking at you admiring them, telling me how beautiful they are, and all I could think of is how beautiful you were.”

You smiled at his words, and how slurred they were the drunker he got, and giggled when he let out a small hiccup.

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. You’re still so beautiful, even more beautiful. M-more beautiful… every day.”

Your back was laying on his chest and a warm feeling cloaked you as you lowered your head on him and looked up at the stars. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could forget about Neteyam and allow yourself to remember what it was like to love this man you’ve known all your life, the man you may not be in love with, but you could be one day, if he continued speaking to you the way he was, the way you’ve dreamt about all your life.

He started peppering kisses down your throat, sucking on your soft skin and licking where you could feel he left marks. Heat pooled in between your legs as he did, and so did the hatred in your soul when the only face that came to mind was not the one currently on you, and you pulled yourself away from him, trying to put some distance in between your bodies and some thought back into your head.

“Not now, Aonung. Please. We’re so close to the Iknimaya.”

“Exactly, we’re so close. Why wait anymore? I want you. I need you, I have for so long, I need to feel your body on me, around me. Nobody has to know.”

“Except we will know. I will know. If I am to be part of your family, to be your mate, I want to do this right. You’re drunk, very drunk, and I’m getting there, and this isn’t the way to do it, not the way I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life.”

He scoffed and pulled you by your queue back on his chest and you yelped as the action sent pain through your entire body.

“Can you just lighten up for once in your life? You have always been such a fucking killjoy. Do you think your friends aren’t fucking their mates to be? Do you think they’re all prudes like you, waiting and waiting until you’re good enough to pass your Iknimaya?”

The pain of his actions and his words overtook your entire existence, warped itself around you until there was nothing left of you but its echoes ringing in you and out of you, in the form of sobs and cries you wish you could drown in.

“Let me go.”

You got up and forcefully removed your queue from his grasp, trying to ignore how badly the pain combined with the alcohol was making your head spin, and started walking away. You didn’t get very far, as he ran in front of you and put his body in between you and your path, and you hissed loudly at him, the sadness blossoming into anger so powerful, you have never felt it before in your life.

“I’m sorry, alright? That came out wrong. Just… let’s not let this ruin this beautiful evening. I feel like I’m just getting you back, you can’t leave me.”

“Get away from me, Aonung.”

You watched in your hazed state as Aonung’s body twirled like an underwater current, and you struggled to understand what was happening, until a deep voice filled your ears and your senses, the way it always did, the way it always will.

“You heard what she said. Leave her alone.”

Neteyam’s navy blue body was barely visible in the dark of night, but his eyes gleamed with fury and intensity and so did his freckles, and it was enough to know that he was furious, and he was ready to fight.

Aonung could barely stand up straight, but laughed mockingly in Neteyam’s direction.

“Oh, the tree hugger is coming to the rescue. She’s my mate, she doesn’t need saving from you. Isn’t that right, yawne? Tell him you’re fine, we’re just playing around.”

As he reached his hand over to grab you, you flinched and put even more distance in between you, getting so close to Neteyam that you felt the warmth of his body on yours, making you feel safe again.

“Come back here, you -“

One finger is all it took, one finger against Aonung’s chest for him to be pushed back to his place, back away from you.

“Back off. Now.”

Neteyam’s voice was menacing, and you knew Aonung felt it too, as a quick look of fear flashed in his eyes and he stayed put, unable or unwilling to push the Omatikaya, who you both knew would win this fight by a landslide.

“Smart choice.”

His warm hand found your lower back and you shivered at the contact. “Let’s go, I’ll take you home.”

There were no words as you walked on the beach that was still beaming with life and laughter, no words that could ever describe the feelings you felt inside, each of them stronger than the other, all of them threatening to overtake you. You saw the village come into view and knew you couldn’t bear it, couldn’t bear the thought of your tent where he could find you, where even if he didn’t, you would be all alone again.

“I don’t want to go home. I want to go to the beach.”

The tears were rolling down your cheeks mercilessly and Neteyam’s eyes softened as he nodded and motioned for you to lead the way. You were grateful for his presence and his silence, grateful for how he was barely touching you so as to not make you more uncomfortable or remind you of the man you left behind, grateful that he knew exactly what to do and what to say, grateful that he was everything Aonung wasn’t and nothing that he was.

You were dizzy still as you arrived to your beach and dizzier still as you fell on your ass unceremoniously. The amber of Neteyam’s eyes reminded you of the liquid the brought you here, that made you this way, and you knew you couldn’t look into them for too long without feeling nauseated.

He sat besides you, but left space in between you, which you appreciated.

“I’m sorry this happened. Are you alright?”

You laughed bitterly, unable to help yourself.

“Am I alright? Well, let’s see. I have been treated like dirt for years by the guy I thought I loved and that I am meant to give myself to forever, then I met a guy that makes my entire body convulse the second he comes close to me, I allow him to do things to me only my mate should ever be able to do, and I love it, and I can only think about more, about his words and the way I only feel the way I feel when I’m with him…” you took a deep breath and sighed, allowing every dark thought and secret, everything you’ve kept shackled within you come to light.

“Then the first guy comes and apologises, and says all the right words, which makes me feel even worse, makes me hate myself and hate everything around me, hate that I’ve allowed two men to drive me to this point, but still, I think that I should try. I should try to do this, be the good girl I’ve always been, keep my promise and my word to him and his family, to the clan. And then this happens.”

“So no. I am not alright. I’m so far from alright, alright isn’t even on the same planet as me.”

“I am sorry. I’m sorry I made your life harder than it needed to be. But I want you, I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. I’ve watched you in the clan. You’re always kind, and helpful. You always have a smile on your face, a real, authentic smile. You’re a good person, and you deserve better. I did what I did because I want you to be mine. I thought you should know there are options out there. That you don’t need to confine yourself to someone just because you feel like you have to, that it’s expected of you. I know all about the pressures of expectations, and while I'm forced to shoulder them, I don’t want you to have to.”

Your breath caught in your throat and there was nothing to say in regards to the power with which this man controlled every fibre of your being, the pull that his voice and his words had on you. He so quickly managed to become the sun your soul orbited around. You felt your body slowly inching closer to his, even as whatever little conscious mind you still had available was screaming for you to stop, that this was wrong and two wrongs don’t make a right. It took everything out of you, but you eventually listened.

“I need to go. I wanted to come here, I wanted you to take me here, but I can’t be around you. Not anymore. Aonung is an asshole, and I will deal with him tomorrow, but what we did was wrong. What I did was wrong. I should have broken up with him, I should have told him that it’s over, that he’s treated me wrong one too many times. But I didn’t. And regardless what he’s done, I’m no better, not if I do this again. Once is a mistake, twice is a choice. I’m going home.”

Neteyam sighed and you saw there was hurt in his eyes, on his face. He didn’t say anything to you as you left him and whatever it was you had behind.

You needed to clear your head, clear the hurt and drunk thoughts swirling in your mind. You knew of a secluded spot to which Aonung used to take you when you were younger, that you thought would be perfect to wash this night away from your body and hopefully forget it ever happened. You pushed through the tall greenery surrounding you in order to reach it and stopped in your tracks when sounds of panted breaths and mixed moans filled your ears.

“Aonung, fuck. Right there!”

“You feel so good, baby. So good.”

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, praying and hoping they didn’t hear you, and when you knew you were far enough, you stopped and curled your body forwards as you threw up on the ground in front of you, groaning as the alcohol tasted much worse on your tongue coming out than it did going in. You were having trouble breathing as this night, that was horrible to begin with, was now bordering on unbearable, as the lewd sounds floated in every corner of your mind, powering the next round of sickness that felt like it was being expelled from deeper within you than just your stomach, from the unsightly parts of your soul.

He was fucking another girl. You told him no, you told him you wanted to wait, and so he fucked another girl. Was this the first girl? The only girl? The first time? The only time?

So many questions, so few answers, so little time to think, so much grief to swallow. So much anger, and vindication, so much thirst for revenge, a thirst that you’ve never felt before, that consumed you until there was nothing left but it. You spent so much time feeling horrible about yourself, about what you did. And you didn’t even do the thing you wanted to do, the thing you were desperate to do. But now, there was no hesitation in you anymore as you ran towards the beach that you hoped Neteyam was still on, relief so powerful a drug it cleared your senses and focused them on the man you wanted, that you had to turn away, that you now got to have, that you hoped would claim you, would show you everything Aonung never could.

He was there. Of course he was. His back was to you, to the forest, and he was looking at the beach, looking at how the waves crashed into the sand, and you couldn’t help take a second to admire him, admire his beauty and poise, admire his strength and character, admire the way he was everything you weren’t, everything you wished you could be. You wanted him to show you, and to teach you, you wanted him to help you see there’s more to this world than what you’ve known, there’s more to this life than what you’ve been confined to feel. And you knew he could, you knew he would. All you had to do was ask.

“Neteyam. I’m here to beg you to fuck me.”

three parts it is, besties x

taglist (thank you ily xoxo) : @strawberryclouds22 @yeosxxx @bewbz2110 @loaksbaby @taleiak @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @littlexscarletxwitch

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jaehunnyy · 1 year

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The sound of our tied souls

Genre: soulmate!au, rockstar!au, kinda enemies-to-lovers but not really, a bit of angst, fluff, happy ending

Word count: 3.3k

Pairing: rockstar!San x fem!reader (feat. reader's best friend x Mingi)

Warnings: swear words (quite a lot), time-skip, kind of a bad guy attitude—San's a bit of a jerk at the beginning but he has a character development :), soulmate rejection, mentions of some jealous fans, kinda slow-burn, one kiss, possible grammar mistakes

A/N: this oneshot is part of @sungbeam's soulmate collab, which i was so proud to be part of; thanks for the opportunity, love 🤍

You got woken up by that annoying song again, your beauty sleep being thrown away for the rest of the night—cause it seemed like your soulmate had no sleeping schedule. You couldn't understand how he could listen to this all the time, you often wondered if his hearing was still intact—cause the loud growl of what seemed to be an electric guitar could surely manage to make you deaf by now.

You have first discovered your soulmate bond after your 16th birthday, when you began hearing rock music everyday. Everyone was talking about how sweet their marks were: a tattoo with the letter of their significant other's name, a highlight in their hair matching their future partner's color, and the list could go on. You, on the other hand, had to struggle with listening to something you absolutely despised, without thinking that your soulmate returned the same feeling to your music choice. With a mischievous smile on your face, you made your way to your piano, starting to play one of your favorite songs. God, if only you knew how frustrated your soulmate got.

"San, you messed up again! Can you fucking focus?" Hongjoong, the leader of their group, Guerrillas, shouted, watching as the culprit lowered his head.

"I can't, Joong. I can't, because all I hear right now is Für Elise, and it messes my head up!" he shouted too, pulling his hair back in frustration.

The others looked at each other with confused looks; was there something they didn't know? Without actually meaning to, Mingi bursted into laughter, leading Wooyoung to chuckle as well.

"Since when do you listen to classical music?" he asked San, smirking playfully.

"I don't. That thing you call soulmate does."

"You're hearing what your soulmate listens to?!" Wooyoung exclaimed, covering his mouth in shock.

"Yeah. But you know I'm not into this shit of yours, so let's get back to practice. I'll try and focus." he simply said, taking his guitar again, the strap attached to it hugging his torso perfectly.

Seonghwa shrugged and signaled the others to start playing, their practice session blooming once again. You could swear that he'd never played music that loud before; it felt like a competition between the two of you, and you smiled at the thought of having him so frustrated. You didn't know who he was nor how he looked, but you were ready to make his life a living hell, as much as he had started to turn yours into one.

At one point, the music stopped and you managed to sleep a bit, but it was way too little for your liking. You woke up at the sound of your doorbell, your best friend standing behind the wooden door.

"You won't believe what my boyfriend got me!" she said as soon as you opened the door, barging into your house like it was her own.

"Do I wanna know?" you sighed, thinking that your best friend's excitement meant chaos.

"He got me two tickets at his band's concert! We're gonna see the Guerrillas!" she jumped, pulling the two golden-like tickets from her pocket.

She and Mingi—her soulmate, met a while ago, and since then, she was always talking about him and how much their music grew on her. She must have been so happy now, that her world had finally earned its colors. Her and Mingi's soulmate mark consisted of seeing the world in black and white, until the two of them met. You still remembered how fast they agreed on becoming a couple, and you still wondered how they made it work so well. You knew how proud she was of her boyfriend, mainly because it was the third time she was trying to convince you to go with her, thinking that it would be, somehow, her lucky chance.

"There's no way I'm going to a rock concert." you protested, crossing your arms.

"There's no way I'll leave you alone until you say yes." she smirked, shoving one of the tickets in your jacket.

Nice try, you thought, before taking a moment to actually read the information on the ticket. How bad could it be, after all? Maybe, in this way, you could find more about your soulmate's favorite genre of music. You also thought it was maybe an occasion to meet Mingi's friends; you knew he was in the college's rock band, though you've never met them in this formula.

"Fine. I'm only doing it for Mingi's effort to get you these." you said coldly, side-eyeing your friend when she gave you a bear hug; it was gonna be a long week.

While the two were already making plans for the big day, the boys took a break from their intense practice session, starting to talk about whatever traveled their mind while drinking a can of energy drink. San was absent from their conversation, fidgeting with his calloused fingers, the effort of always trying to hit the right strings showing. The thought of having a soulmate was really burdening him, he didn't want to spend his energy searching for someone he didn't even want to meet. Little San would probably be disappointed, because all he has ever wished for was to grow up and meet his other half. Arts student San, though? He didn't need anything else as long as he had his guitar by his side; a capo and some sheet music could easily solve his problems. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone constantly hearing the feelings he tried expressing through music; it made him feel vulnerable, like he had no personal space anymore.

"San, do you agree with the outfits we've decided on?" Jongho asked, looking curiously at the way too quiet boy.

"Huh… yeah, sure, sounds great." he replied, avoiding the way Yunho raised his eyebrow at his reply.

"You didn't pay attention," he sighed, before adding some other words: "Something's definitely bothering you, so talk to us."

"Is it because of your soulmate? Why don't you just search for her?" Wooyoung asked, feeling the way the elder tensed. "It should stop after you meet, right?"

"Meeting her means that I have to be committed, and I don't want to commit to her." he spat, putting emphasis on not wanting to do so, and without bothering to spare his friends the slightest glance, he just took his things and left them speechless, in the middle of the studio.

The week passed fastly, the not-so-wanted (by a certain someone, 'cause the whole college actually went crazy for it) concert finally coming to life. The boys were backstage, trying to memorize their lines or chords for the last time. You and your friend would be late though; because she couldn't let you wear the clothes you would usually wear.

"I can't believe you want to wear a coat to a rock concert," she sighed, slightly amused by your antics. "They cover songs like Smells Like Teen Spirit, Sweet Child O' Mine and more, and they will most likely sing their own songs as well. This isn't Antonio Vivanti."

You let out an offended scoff, grabbing the leather jacket she was trying to put on you and wearing it, despite the ick the weird material was giving you. "And it's Vivaldi, by the way. Pay respect!"

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, or else we will be late!"

Luckily for her (‘cause you tried to lose as much time as you could), you arrived just when they settled on stage, greeting the ones who came to see them. You couldn't say you weren't a bit jealous whenever you saw the way her and Mingi looked at each other—because it did something to you. But you were scared of being rejected, pretty sure that the soulmate thing wasn't as easy as it seemed.

Your thoughts were brushed off by the loud sound made by the mix of instruments, making you flinch, to your friend's amusement. Not being able to sneak outside because of her hand constantly holding yours, you decided that the least you could do was to pretend you were enjoying it. The others seemed to have fun too, even the boys, who really owned the stage—until something stole the show. San was taken aback by the way his in-ears worked—or so he thought. The same song they were performing was playing in a faded but bothering way in his ears, making him look at the others with a questionable look. He then made a few gestures to the staff, waiting for the song to stop so he could go and see what was wrong. Hongjoong looked at him worriedly while still focused on his bass, meanwhile Mingi almost messed up while playing the drums.

"We will be back in a few minutes, wait for us, okay?" Jongho screamed, hoping to keep the audience busy for a bit, while the others went to see what was wrong with San; their mics weren't off, though.

"There's nothing wrong with your in-ears, San. They work perfectly," the staff informed him, a few curse words leaving his mouth.

"What if your soulmate is at the concert, San?" Yeosang asked innocently, almost like a joke—though the younger boy freezed in his place.

The audience went crazy; some fangirls gasped and started to whisper several things about San's potential soulmate, meanwhile some of them had the same reaction as San. Some of them even started to run, looking suspiciously at every single girl they saw. "San has a soulmate?", "God, what did she do in her past life?", and so many other phrases that made you scoff. Who was this San and why was he so popular? The influence of his jealous fans spreaded through the whole venue, making the staff finally notice their mics and turn them off, though it was too late—the fuss was already created.

"I don't think that's the case—" Seonghwa tried to protest, but San stopped him.

"I think that's exactly the case." San looked at them, before throwing his in-ears somewhere. "What should we do now? I don't want to perform anymore."

"Then… let's wrap it up." Hongjoong sighed, before going back on stage. "Due to some unfortunate events, we need to stop here, darlings. Don't worry, we will come back soon!" He bowed and left the stage, leaving the fans high and dry. In other circumstances, nothing could have made him leave the stage that easily; he would have found a solution. But seeing how messed up his friend was, it made him want to try and understand him, he was going through a quite special phase, after all.

"I will go ask Mingi about what happened, do you want to come?" your friend asked, though your answer didn't even matter, she was already dragging you after her.

She greeted her boyfriend and the others as if they knew each other since forever, asking them about what was wrong.

"San hears whatever his soulmate is listening too, and he has only told us a few days ago," Mingi said, wrapping an arm around the girl's waist.

Your eyes widened at what he said, but you decided to keep composure—maybe it was just a coincidence.

"And she is into classical music, it's so frustrating. Why would she come to our concert?" San snapped, ignoring the guest his friend's soulmate brought.

It all made sense to you then. You probably didn't realize the music coming from him because you tried to enjoy the new experience, but it made sense. The two-tone haired boy, the arrogant San everyone was talking about was standing in front of you—moreover, he was your soulmate; and he didn't seem too happy with the idea of being bonded to someone.

"Who's the lady next to you?" Wooyoung asked, feeling the need to make you feel implied in the discussion.

"She's Y/N, I dragged her here with me," your friend laughs awkwardly. "She's not a fan, but Mingi got me two tickets so I made use of them."

"Oh! Do you happen to hear rock music sometimes?" Wooyoung asked, smirking playfully.

"Uhm… no, sorry." you said, looking at San, who was already looking suspiciously at you. He was really arrogant, you wished to be able to reject him, but he seemed to do it first.

"Even if she was, I told you guys I don't care. My soulmate can go search for another one." he said, before leaving them, once again. You were the next one to leave, not even caring about the possibility of giving your little secret away.

Even after a few days, you couldn't deny the emptiness you felt the moment you were indirectly rejected by your soulmate—it was definitely noticeable, somewhere in your heart. It was safe to say San didn't feel as good as he thought he would either, even when he rejected the one he was assigned to live his whole life with on purpose. He figured out it was you, because he stopped hearing the once annoying music; but he missed it. And the news about his soulmate was spread in the whole college as well, not helping at all; they were making even the outsiders interested in the tea going on.

"I'm tired of this shit, guys. I won't come to practice today."

Hongjoong looked at him once again, nodding, not knowing exactly how to comfort his friend in this situation, words long forgotten. San started to walk in the direction of where the studio was, his ears filling with the melodious sound of a piano playing. Like it was a habit of his, his legs guided him to the door, which he cracked open, just to reveal you playing the piano. Your fingers moved skillfully along the piano keys, Debussy's Clair de Lune resonating beautifully in the room. The sweet melody managed to comfort him somehow; he didn’t know if it was the calming nature of the song or the closure he was supposed to have with you, but he felt relaxed, listening peacefully until the painful silence started to bother him. He then took the matters into his own hands—in such a San way.

"You’ve got some skills, soulmate," he said, his lips stretching into a little smile, though a little dimple made its appearance still.

You got a bit surprised by his presence, but stopped what you were doing, to return a small smile and answer him.

"Thank you. I guess you do too."

"Was that Beethoven?" he asked curiously, sitting on the chair in front of the piano, next to you.

"Claude Debussy, but A for effort," you said, smiling at his attempt.

A wave of silence spread across the room, before you decided to break it: "We got off to a bad start, but we can still repair it. I'm Y/N," you said, sticking your hand out to him.

He grabbed it, shaking it softly. "I'm San, nice to meet you again." He waited for another reaction of yours, but seeing that you didn't plan on saying anything else, he made the next step: "Let's be friends."

You spent most of the day with him, sharing tips and talking about your opposite passions—though it was well known that opposites attract. Now, that you've gotten to know him a bit better, you could say he was more than just an arrogant guy.

One month passed since your first interaction with your soulmate, and you would have never expected that there would be more; yet here you were, watching as he excitedly got two tickets from his pocket.

"You're invited to our concert tonight! My treat this time, for you and our friend." he winked, handing the same golden-like tickets to you.

"I'll be there, Sannie." you smiled, giving him a side hug before running to your class. He smiled softly, not believing the effect love could have on him.

Furthermore, tonight's stage would be an important one for him; it could mean accomplishment or failure, but he was still willing to try. The boys found him smiling like an idiot—but they enjoyed it, they could tease him about how a certain someone made him change. He never failed to amaze them, but someone definitely brought the best in him. He watched as the boys looked at him, his freshly dyed hair glowing nicely into the dim lights. His hands were covered in a pair of fingerless mesh gloves, fingers full of rings, while his t-shirt was nicely tucked in his leather pants. Some chains were dangling on his neck and waist, and a fake lip ring laid on his lower lip, completing the rockstar look he opted for.

"Where's San and what have you done with him?" Yeosang joked, entertaining the other seven boys in the room.

"Shut up, Sang. Are you ready?" Seonghwa asked, taking his mic and retouching the last details for tonight's show.

"Never been more ready." San smiled, taking his guitar and being the first one to get on stage.

"Hello guys, thank you for coming today too!" Wooyoung exclaimed, getting ready to perform at his best.

You and your friend were somewhere in the front row, singing along with the other fans who came to see the eight boys. You were bouncing with her, enjoying the genre you softly became addicted to, but it was surely an influence San had on you. You didn't know what happened to you, but you still had hope, that maybe something would change his mind. Suddenly, the culprit's voice was heard in the whole venue, catching your attention and making you stop whatever you were doing.

"As you all know, one month ago, I met my soulmate at the concert we held in the same place. I'd like her to join me here, please, Y/N?" he smiled, gesturing for you to get on stage, next to them.

You looked confusedly at your friend, who pushed you in the direction of the stage, playing their game. You got there, finding yourself in front of the crowd and waving awkwardly at them, not expecting to hear their loud screaming.

"I know I was a bit of a douchebag at the beginning, and that was definitely not the way you wanted us to meet. I messed up, but I hope you can forgive me."

The fans cheered up louder, while a big smile found its way to your face, making the boy's lips stretch into one as well.

"I know I rejected you at the beginning, but let me try to fix things. I hope it's not too late," he laughed softly, before continuing: "Have you started your looking for another soulmate project yet?"

You burst into laughter, nodding as no a few times. His cheeks got colored in a crimson red tone, and you could swear you've never seen anything cuter than a shy rockstar.

"Can I have the chance of being the lucky one, then?" he asked and watched as your expression changed, nervousness noticeable in his voice as well.

"I thought you considered yourself unluck—" Wooyoung interrupted, but Jongho was fast to cover his mouth and prevent him from saying anything else. "You're screwing the moment, Woo." he said, mouth still pressed on his older friend's mouth.

You laughed at their antics, taking the mic from San's hand.

"As much as you've annoyed me, I still like you, Choi San. I always did, which is why I would actually love to give you this chance."

As soon as you finished your romantic little speech, he cupped your face, pressing his lips on yours softly. The fans went crazy, cheering and jumping as the two of you sealed the promise of loving each other forever with a soft kiss.

"With these being said, I'd like to announce the title of our next album, entitled The sound of our tied souls!" Yunho said, making the night of every single soul attending that concert, the stars shining even brighter above their heads.

You pressed your forehead on San's, admiring his beauty while your noses rubbed lovingly against each other's. The road you had to walk on to find your soulmate was a tough one, but looking back on it, you wouldn't want it another way; you were too excited for your future with your other half—the arrogant boy you started to love, the one destined to be eternally yours.

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insxghtt · 8 months

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soulmates — kappa x reader

(sorry if this is a mess, i wrote it last night under the influence of a high dose of quetiapine. my insomnia fellas will understand.)

i see a lot of people talking about kappa as this bad boy figure, kinda similar to euronymous but, in my mind, kappa is waaayyy more charming. i mean, he has to be! after all, he is a cult leader and cult leaders rarely show their followers explicit violence.

i think what we saw in black mirror was the dark side of kappa, one that he only shows to his most faithful followers. the other side we didn't get to see is the kind kappa, the personality he has on most of the time. this manipulative, charismatic, charming kappa is the one who would convince you to do the most insane things for him.

first one, joining a cult. but, of course, you didn't call it a cult. no, you called it a family.

kappa was very good at reading people and as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew you were an easy target. you were so fragile, so he did what no one else ever thought about doing. he took care of you. he showed you love.

it was hard to see kappa as this evil cult leader because he was the kindest soul you had ever met. he was different from all of the other men you had in your life. he treated you with respect.

kappa genuinely loved you. it wasn't healthy, but he genuinely loved you. gosh, he was obsessed with you. you were his godess. he knew about every detail about your life, which is why it was so easy for him to manipulate you into staying. that's why you never even realized that you were trapped.

but again, maybe kappa wasn't the only one with a dark side. you had it in you and he could see it too, which is why he chose you in the first place. the two of you were a mix made in hell.

he was possessive over you, but you were just the same way. although kappa wasn't monogamic, he was faithful to you because he could never ever ever be so obsessed with anyone else.

you two had this open, confused, agitated relationship, but there was one rule you two followed whithout question, and that rule was: other people were only allowed if the two of you consent to it.

other people could only have you, touch you, want you when he was right there watching, and vice versa.

the few times kappa lost his temper in front of the other followers, it was because of you. well, not you, but other man trying to get to you without your (and his) consent. kappa would suddenly become a beast, filled with rage.

he had the other guy pinned against the wall with a knife against his throat. the man was clearly intoxicated, which was the reason why he dared to even approach you in the first place. everyone knew you belonged to kappa. no one would dare to mess with you.

the guy was having a hard time breathing, too scared to even blink. kappa was staring into his soul like a mad man. everyone else in the room, who were partying just a few minutes ago, was now frozen in silence.

you were watching as you thought that maybe you should intervene and try to calm him down, but you didn't really want to. kappa looked so pretty when he was mad. his rough hands were holding the guy by his shirt, the veins in his arms and neck were more visible, his messy hair was covering part of his face, but you could still see his eyes burning with rage.

you rolled your eyes and touched his shoulder delicately and kappa immediately felt his muscles relax. he let go of the guy and watched as he ran away out of the room.

you were kappa's favorite drug. just one small dose of you was enough to make him forget all of his problems.

he turned to you and you gave him a kiss on the lips. just like that, kappa could hardly remember about what had just happened.

but when you were jealous, things were a little different. from times to times, when someone new joined the family, you would notice a girl staring at kappa in a more seducive, flirty way. kappa was very attractive and charming and everyone in the family looked up to him. some people developed feelings for him in the process and you hated it.

and when bitches try to get your man, that's when you become a beast yourself.

you were not as impulsive as kappa. no, you carefully observed and waited for the right time to get rid of them. you were quiet, calm and precise. not only you would stop them from getting what was yours, you would make sure they were completely removed from your lives.

out of the sudden, one of the guns would magically disappear for a day or two, just to be found later in the bag of clothes of one of the new girls. she swore she hadn't taken it, but you didn't believe her and, if you didn't, kappa didn't believe her either.

so you tried to hide your smile as you watched him send her away. he hated to do that, but one thing that kappa valued the most was honesty and he refused to let someone who had lied about stealing one of his guns be part of the family.

kappa would never know. behind his back, you made sure to keep all the girls away from him. of course you were good to them most of the time. you loved some of those girls like they were your sisters, but the ones who didn't respect the rules were easily discarted.

it wouldn't be right to say that you and kappa were a good match, but you two were definitely soulmates. he was made for you, you were made for him and nothing in the world could ever change that.

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blues824 · 1 year

Note

If requests are open,

Please. MC that's like Malleus but without the royalty aspect. No friends but well mannered and respectful and all. Tries to look at the better side of life despite the loneliness nipping at their soul on okay days and hattering them on the very bad ones

With the brothers and the royals pls? If that's too much then the first 2-3 brothers and the royals

To speed this up, I will be doing the older brothers and the royals. I apologize. By the way, you’re still a dragon fae as well as a powerful mage in this.

Lucifer

His interest started when you appeared. He could tell that you didn’t belong in any of the three realms, mainly because you suddenly appeared but also because you used a different kind of magic. Since he is a demon, he can sense it.

You were very polite towards each and every one of them. It was honestly refreshing to see someone so well-mannered. He honestly enjoys having conversations with you because it gives him a break from the headaches he calls his brothers.

Because you’re an exchange student, you get a lot of attention which isn’t something you’re very used to. You tend to stick by Lucifer’s side, which he is completely fine with, as you try and adjust to your new life as an exchange student in Hell.

He noticed that whenever he or someone else invited you out somewhere, you always got super excited. It reminded him of Cerberus as a puppy, before he was trained to be the menacing three-headed dog that he is now. He asked you about it and you told him that back in your world, everyone was scared of you because you were one of the most powerful mages. He’s rather sad to hear that, so he makes a conscious effort to involve you in as much as possible.

Speaking of, he is very impressed by your magical abilities. You explain that you were magical yourself, being a dragon fae and all. He noticed your horns, but never asked you to. It stated that you were a fae in your student profile, so there was no need to ask. He also knows that asking someone to help care for them or come close to them is a very personal and intimate thing, so when you asked him for help he was absolutely delighted.

That night, he brought out his demon form so that you wouldn’t be the only one who’s vulnerable and nervous. He asked you to help him clean his horns and his wings. It had you and him blushing a lot, but when he was helping you with yours, he pressed a kiss on each horn once he finished with them. It made you a flustered mess, and he decided to continue teasing you by taking your hand gently in his and pressing a kiss on the back of it.

Mammon

He was surprised to see that you weren’t scared of him. I mean, they were demons after all! But you held a graceful (and probably practiced) smile as you were introduced to each and every one of the brothers as well as the other exchange students, Diavolo, and Barbatos.

He probably thought you were stuck-up or something when you showed perfect manners. However, it hadn’t ever changed even in the time you’ve been there. You were one of the only people who was kind to him, so he became attached.

Since you were both attached to the hip, Mammon loved taking you out and spoiling you whenever he could. He also loved that you would stick close by him because you were still trying to adjust. He was helping you, so it made him feel good inside.

You told him one night when you both went on a drive that you were almost never included in activities back in your world because you were a very powerful mage, and that made Mammon sad to hear as well. He promised that he would hang out with you as much as possible so that you never felt lonely ever again.

Speaking of being a powerful mage, Mammon will try to use you as his ‘secret weapon’, as if you were his Pokemon in a Pokemon Battle. It’s amusing, but you always step to the side to up the comedy for yourself instead of actually defending and protecting him.

One day, Mammon busted into your room while you were taking care of your horns and he could see that you were having a bit of trouble. He asked if he could help and you blushed while nodding. His hands were actually pretty soft and gentle as he tended to your horns, all while teasing you about how red your face was.

Leviathan

For someone as intimidating as you were, he didn’t expect you to be so polite and kind. What was weirder was that you weren’t scared of being an exchange student in Hell while living in a house with 6 (remember, he didn’t know Belphie was in the attic at this point) demons.

He was a bit wary when you were acting so polite and kind towards him. His brothers usually just brushed him off, so it was unusual to see someone act so compassionate and considerate towards him. He absolutely loved it.

You got so happy whenever someone invited you somewhere, and it made him incredibly jealous. He should be the only one bringing you such big amounts of joy. So he invites you to a bunch of anime and cosplay events as well as takes you out every once in a while. You loved the new experiences, so you were happy to go.

One day, after walking back from one of your outings, you mentioned how you were never invited to anything back in your world because everyone was scared of the power you had as one of the most powerful mages in your world. He chose to be alone so he doesn’t really understand, but it still made you sad which made him sad in turn.

However, he was intrigued when you told him about you being a powerful mage. You added that you were a dragon fae so you were magical yourself. He already had noticed your horns considering they were protruding from your head, but he brought out his demon form and showed you that he also had horns but he also had a tail as well.

He knows how intimate it is to touch someone else’s horns. He barely lets his brothers help him with his horns, so you know it’s a serious matter when he asks you to help him. He pressed his face into your stomach as you stood and gently tended to his horns. His breath stopped when you pressed a kiss to his left horn, and his face quickly turned red.

Diavolo

He was very excited to meet you. This was the first step in many to uniting the 3 Realms, and you seemed just as happy once he had explained everything. He had to admit that your smile was absolutely gorgeous.

He was brought up to be respectful and polite, so he reciprocates your amicable and cordial disposition. A lot of people act this way towards him because of his position as the Prince of the Devildom, but you seemed very genuine in your actions.

Considering he was raised a single child, he understood your excitement whenever you were invited somewhere. He loves to invite you over for a picnic or a walk in the castle gardens just so the two of you could enjoy each other’s company.

You both just totally connected. As a powerful mage of the Briar Valley, you swore your service to the Royal Family and were therefore raised alone so that you could practice your magical skills. It did make Diavolo sad that such a wonderful person such as yourself had to experience the pain of loneliness, but you didn’t need to experience it anymore since you had him now!

You both were very powerful in many ways. You were a dragon fae and he was the son of the Demon Lord (and he was a demon himself). Your magic was more mystical while his was more satanic (get it?) and therefore you were able to do many different things. He loved ‘showing off’ what he could do because he loved trying to impress you.

When you text and ask him if you could come over so that he could help you with your horns, he blushes. Surely you were aware how special this was? Well, apparently you did because you were blushing the entire time. To make you a bit more comfortable (or to even the embarrassment), he transformed into his demon form and asked you to help him with his.

Barbatos

He was another one who was very intrigued at the lack of fear you had in response to being teleported to the Devildom, the Realm of Demons. You actually seemed excited to be here and be a part of accomplishing Diavolo’s dream.

As the butler of Diavolo, he is obviously well-versed in manners because he needs to maintain the young master’s image. He makes sure to greet you and bid you farewell at the beginning and end of every conversation the both of you have.

He knows that you have felt lonely and left out in your world, so he always asks if you would like to help him in the kitchen. He doesn’t have a ton of time to hang out with anyone, but this little bit of time spent with you making food hopefully makes you feel less lonely.

He used this time to get to know you more. After all, you didn’t hail from any of the usual 3 realms. You told him that you had come from Twisted Wonderland and were one of the most powerful mages there, and you swore your service to the Royal Family much like how he had.

You added that you were a dragon fae which gave you your horns and the ability to transform into a dragon so you could fight against powerful enemies. He found it extremely interesting because it’s not everyday you meet someone who could turn into an actual dragon.

Once, you asked if he could help you with your horns and he was honored. He knew how personal horns were, considering he helps Diavolo with his all the time. He gladly helps you, using a gentle but swift hand. He quietly chuckled at your blissful expression, but didn’t tease you about it.

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Be careful who you bring home : Morpheus x reader

part 2 is up

request/summary by anon: you know how people get pets for emotional support? reader with anxiety or fear of loneliness finds a big black cat in a park and she is just: yeah, you are coming home with me. cat happens to be post imprisonement!morpheus. he wants to argue, but she quickly takes him to her apartment which is conveniently close to the park. reader cooing to cat: who is my little baby and Matthew seeing it from the street and laughing at his boss. with 142 for reader (maybe he said something while being a cat) and 153 for morpheus.

142 was "it's just your imagination", 153 was "put me down" I might have changed the request a little bit but I hope you'll like it. Also thete is a bit of a twist/ crossover in the story. Wonder if you'll get it :D

***

„Have you ever considered getting a pet?”

The girl in her mid-twenties, dressed in comfy, black clothes sitting in front of the therapist frowned in confusion.

“A pet” she repeated “and why would I need that?”

“You know, it is proven that they have positive effect on people who suffer from depression and anxiety, so maybe this would be a good idea for healing process”

“Do you give such advice to all of your patients, doctor Raynor? Did you give such advice to Bucky, as well?”

“We both know he is not that kind of guy.”

“Really, why not?” the girl shrugged “he had some goats in Wakanda after all.”

“Stop joking around.”

“Jeez, fine. I won’t get a pet. In my current mental state I can barely take care of myself, let alone any other living being. Any other words of wisdom coming from you?”

“Not with this attitude. You may leave for now.”

“You know if I was paying you that would be the shittiest session not worth a dime.” She grabbed her coat and without a word, hands in the pocket left the room and not-so-pleased therapist.

A pet. Good joke. A four legged animal who would wake her up in the morning and at night asking for food or caress. A being that would turn her life upside down since it would require constant care and supervision to avoid destroying her apartment. Nope. Thank you very much. She was good enough by herself. Determined to get her head and broken soul back together and get clearance to get back to SHIELD and field operations. She missed that, but apparently beating up a bunch of bad guys leaves you in emotional trauma and in need of recover. Bullshit! She was an agent, for god’s sake, not a crying mess. Her attitude was far from cheerful and optimistic but just today she had to curb her murderous thoughts since one of her nieces were supposed to visit. Jemma was five years old and was still going through her princesses, pink glitter and unicorns faze. She was a challenge to be around, but definitely worth it. Her father, agent’s sister were supposed to drop her in straight to the house, but just a minute ago she got the message about the change in plans. Since the weather was beautiful and it was not often this time of the year, he took the chance for a little walk in the park and decided to meet his sister there instead of in the four walls. As she approached the park, she noticed her family amongst other walking people. Jemma was running around, picking leaved and jumping into the pools with loud, happy squeals. She could not hold back the tiniest smile on her face.

“She’s gonna get all wet and dirty and then who will tend to that?” the girl mocked while coming closer

“Hm, don’t know. I think at this point she would be someone else’s responsibility.”

“Hello, brother.”

“Hello sister” he hugged her tightly “how you’ve been? Life still kicking you in the guts?”

“I mean, when it doesn’t? You know my line of work….” Her brother was convinces she was just some regular office worker dealing with boring documents, since that was simply safer for everyone.

“Right, so mundane and ordinary…..” he rolled his eyes

“Auntie!” Jemma turned around and run straight to her favorite relatives not caring about the mud she left on her trousers while clutching to her legs.

“Hi, cupcake. Don’t you have to much energy?”

“I have so much to tell you! About the rhyme I’ve learned and some new letters I came across and my friends and everything” little girl jumped around in excitement “And I know a new magic trick dad showed me. But I still don’t quite understand it….” she frowned

“It;s ok, cupcake, we can work on that.”

“Oh, thank god. Like I said, your responsibility now. Good luck.” Girl’s brother was quick to get himself some freedom “just don’t give her too much sweets, you know how she gets after that”

“Yeah, too well. See you in a couple of hours then. Come on, Jemma” she took her niece’s little hand sticky with some mysterious substance “ let’s go home.”

If only it was that easy. They only took a couple steps when the little one broke out from aunt’s grip.

“Look, auntie, a cat!” she run over to the bench where unusually big and beautiful animal was soaking up the sun. Before he realized what hit him, he was squeezed and carried by a little pair of still sticky hands and it was visible he did not like it.

“Jemma! Leave that animal alone. It may hurt you.”

Do not refer to me as “it”. I am a male personification. And put me down! Immediately!

She could swear she heard something in the back of her mind, but let it go. After all, cats do not talk and she was in therapy for mental trouble so it was probably just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Can we take him home, auntie, he’s so sweet, please” little girl pouted

“No. Of course not, look at… him. He is very good looking, so most probably belongs to someone. Not a chance he’s a stray cat. “

“I can’t see anyone looking for him” a couple tears showed up in Jemma;s eyes. “Please, auntie, please….” Great, now she was crying out loud getting the attention of few pedestrians.

“Ok, fine, fine, just please stop crying.”

“Thank you” Jemma stopped her actions in a second and smiled widely showing the jags in her mouth. “I will carry him so don’t worry about it, auntie” she held the cat even closer not caring about him writing in her embrace.

“Just be careful so he won’t hurt you” she warned following her niece, wondering what the hell she got herself into.

I will not hurt this little mortal.

At this point, the older girl was pretty sure she was going crazy. And to think that Raynor wanted her to have a pet to help her mental health, not deteriorate it.

***

“Auntie, look, I made him pretty”

“Mhm, great” she did not even bother to look up from some records she was currently reading “wait, you did what, Jemma?” a second later she came to realization what a five-year-old girl can mean by saying “made pretty”.

“Look, auntie” said five year old was quick to get the cat out from behind and proudly present it. Despite her rather gloomy attitude the older one could not hold back a laugh. Black fur was now embellished with colorful glitter and was wearing a crown. If it wasn’t for the lack of resources at home Jemma would probably extend her imagination even more.

“Oh” she cooed “look who’s pretty boy” her grin was now getting wider and wider. She was no expert on animal behavior but the look on its face clearly indicated it was not happy with the situation.

“I wanted to give him a braid, but the fur was too short” Jemma saddened

“Don’t worry sweetie, it looks just perfect. Like a ….”

“Princess!” Jemma squealed and turned around with the cat still in her embrace.

“Don’t you both dare. This is humiliating”. Once again there was this little voice inside girl’s head.

“Ok, honey, why don’t you let go of the cat now. I got a snack for you.”

“Chocolate cake?” Jemma asked innocently while playing with her fingers and shyly looking at the floor

“Apple and carrots”

“That is boooooring. And I don’t like carrots” Jemma whined

“Well, too bad for you. I heard veggies give you strength. And then your skin looks healthy and shines almost like the cat’s fur. Wouldn’t you like to look beautiful?”

“I’d rather be smart” Jemma retorted taking her aunt aback with maturity of this sentence “but I guess beauty can help in future. I saw on TV that pretty girls always have what they want so whatever” she shrugged and rushed towards the kitchen where the snack was already waiting for her.

“Unbelievable” her aunt shook her head “but she’ll be busy for a while, so how about we get you all cleaned up, huh?” she picked the cat from the floor and walked towards the bathroom ignoring the writhing animal, who was not happy about forced wash.

Put me down! It demanded again and the girl stopped looking him straight in the eyes trying to check out if she was really going nuts.

“Oh come on, girl, get yourself together. It’s just your imagination.”

She walked straight into the bathroom and started gently combing out the fur. Surprisingly, her action bring the animal comfort because surprisingly to both of them he started purring.

***

Two hours later, tired and sleepy Jemma was picked up by her father and her aunt could finally let the cat out into the wild. It was impossible earlier since the little girl was checking on him every five minutes, refusing to drop this action.

“Sorry about today. “ she muttered opening the door “but hey, on the bring side at least you have a nice story to tell to your fellow cats. Besides, you really are a pretty animal.” maybe it was another impression or the flicker of lights, but it seemed like the cats fur became a bit reddish and he squinted. “go, now, find your owners, get home safe, fella.”

It was just a couple of hours, but the girls was actually starting to think that maybe, hypothetically, Raynor was right about this whole “emotional support pet” stuff.

***

Morpheus bristled and crossed the street. Only on the other side of the road he changed back into the anthropomorphic personification of dreams.

“Um, boss?” his loyal yet rebellious Raven perched on the branch, tilting his head slightly. If he was still human he would probably laugh himself silly.

“Not a word, Matthew. Not a single word about it. To anyone” he reached for his sand and completely ignoring further words of the bird transported them back to the Dreaming “Do I make myself clear” he made sure before entering the palace.

“Sure thing, boss. But it was funny don’t you think?”

“Hold your tongue, Matthew!”

@somest1 @pinksirensong

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mblue-art · 22 days

Note

Sorry for that question but I really curious!

What made you fell in love with Cross and Lust?

Tell us more!!

😳😳😳 hhuh what rreally,, , ,,, 😳 u wanna hear me yap abt my sillies, my beloveds,,, (i appreciate the enthusiasm tho omg 🥺🫶🫶🫶)

i want to have the yuris with lust and the yaois with cross I I MEAN HWHWAT 🧍‍♂️

UM.

haha anyWAY,, (oh gog this ended up long)

🍫—

cross checks so many boxes for me it makes me go insane. too good to be true. versatile(??)— like it's somehow way too easy to put him in Situations. (he's bf and husbone material??? just -20hp me now; that already kills me) he's. hh. gawddamn there's reasons why he won a utmv sans sexyman poll.

he's like a crush that you can't get out of your head no matter what you do, i'm so freaking down bad for him it's not even funny anymore. ever since simping for cross i have not been the same since. the man has changed me. the attraction/simp feelings hit me like a bat out of nowhere and i don't understand why it's so intense— i. hh.

,,i like when ppl make him dorky. stupidly silly (absolutely love shitpost shenanigans and would absolutely LOVE to get into silly shenanigans with him and with/without his bestie epic). fun to be around when he's deemed you as a good friend. stars, he'd give good hugs. strong, solid, and warm, the kind of hugs u don't wanna pull away from so soon. a little endearingly cringe. fanon simp cross is adorable and fun to mess around with. tsundere cross is adorable and fun to mess with. cute anxious guy under all that intimidating aloofness. when i say his smile is an absolute treasure, i mean that. his blush making him look like a grape or a glowing bulb is adorable and makes me wanna tease him more. anime protag/character vibes so strong i wanna have a cute bl/shoujo manga romance with him type shit yk.

then there's times when he's The Hot Dude and i think it's illegal if he's all confident and smug and dom actually (/hj) cause that makes me wanna fucking fite him HELLO? SIR? ILLEGAL????? (<- the fight or flight response of a tsundere towards a milder tsundere LOL).

-hp every single time. mf gets successful d20 rolls w/ rizz on me and i get a critical hit every time. it's a 50/50 either i fluster to death and become weak or i wanna fite his dumbass

i'll. i can fight him. i'll lose but i can fight him for sure. (why is he so cool⁉️‼️💢💢💢RRRRRRR)

he makes me feel things. lots of things. (mostly fluster but when i'm feelin sooper soff i jst wanna shower his skull in keeses. ima kissy lil guy)

tired cross makes me just wanna take care of him. want him to come home to me without any worry because he thinks i'm his safe space.

when he's being stubborn i want to tell him to chill out for a little while, take a break and watch some funny stuff while drinking choccy milk or eating his fav foods and be cozy. bapping him if he's gonna try to get out of this too soon. he's gonna get the free time he deserves n relax n get cuddles n kithes.

the way he can gently hold my hand and look at me with a sincere look in his eyelights and say something genuinely affectionate feels like cupid shooting an arrow through my soul, but also feels like a balm. (a promise of loyalty and faithfulness.) (a kiss on the forehead? a cherry on top.)

well now i can't be mean to him with all the nice he's saying and doing. i just want nice things for him o(-< (even if he's a bastard sometimes lol<3 all circles back to the silly) (silly is always important)

💜—

i love lust. so so so much. the fanon interpretation of him, anyway.

(don't get me wrong, i absolutely adore the feminine slay content of lust; but am i wrong for yearning for more masc lust content?)

i like my lust sans respectful, goofy, sans-like, an absolute sweetheart, and a caring, wonderful life partner. under the flirty personality and charm(ing looks), is a sans behavior that made me fall deeper. (he makes me feel very gender too) (ohmygofd yeah no he actually makes me think of gender sometimes rauauagrrgh<3/pos). i don't have to worry about showing my cring, weird side to him, because he's also a gremlin,, o(-< he doesn't have to present himself all nice and pretty all the time (although he's always pretty in my eyes). he can be comfortably himself; with me 🥺

i want to be his safe space.

i want to see him heal and be happy and be happy with me and give him all the love i can give and care for him and make him soso happy i just want him to feel SO sosososo loved, he deserves so much more

he's the only one who's able to get a certain reaction out of me; to pull flowers out of my heart. to pull out words of love and devotion and appreciation, heart bursting with affection only for him.

for him, i would try. i would live for him. i wish someone like him (the him i've created from interpretations and headcanons) was real irl.

i want to not care i don't care if he's a gorgeous well-known person that people fawn over, or if he's a campus crush, etc.,

i want him to think i'm worthy enough to keep in his life. for him to know how special he is to me, for him to know how much i want him in my life as much as i want him to keep me in his.

my immediate reaction when i think of him is: 😊💕💜💜💜eeeee kicks and giggles and flaps hands teehee

i love him so much i get a heart-on for him (/silly but it is true sometimes; love him so much it aches (in a good way))

#ask #mblue talks #m rambles #(embarrassing myself under the cut 😁!11! !)#(these words are messy like my thoughts hahagahgs forgive me for not making it proper or something)#(oh whoops is that my heart down there uh haha sry i must've dropped it lemme pick it back up—)#(honestly it gets kinda personalll?? but yeah my heart haha whoops)#(head full yet empty only purple beloveds...)#(took me so long to answer bc... thoughts... i wasn't sure which ones to omit or include)#crossrot #lm #cm

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 4 months

Note

Hey slug! Obviously it's a bit older now, but I was wondering if you might be able to translate Sougyaran BAM, from Kuko? I feel like I don't quite understand the TLs I have seen, so I was wondering if there were certain references or concepts I'm missing here lol

I saw the email notification of this request at the perfect moment. Too anxious to do work or anything else productive. Too caffeinated to sleep. Fuck it. Time to look at Kuukou for an hour.

Under a cut for length

Like a lot of Kuukou's... well, everything... this song is an eclectic mix of elements that can all more or less be distilled into these couple of bullet points:

Trying to fight the listener

Dropping powerful life advice or Buddhist teachings

Claiming his music is both a game changer and the kind of stuff that gets your blood pumping

Scatting, rhyming without meaning, or otherwise making wordplay

Outside of the parts that are straight-up nonsensical, the majority of the rap is very casual to the point of being rude. However, it's also interspersed with formal religious language. Again, both of these are how Kuukou talks, but I get why this would make it difficult for someone to translate.

I talk about this a lot whenever I translate anything, but an important (and maybe the most important!) part of any translation is determining the methodology, focus, and goals before you begin. I figure that if someone's asking me to look at song lyrics for songs that have been out for years, they probably care a lot more about the minutiae of what the character's saying than if I'm writing a rap as part of a longer work where readers aren't going to give it much attention. In that second case, it's probably more important to convey the appearance of a rap--rhyme, rhythm, what have you--and make sure I'm hitting the overall meaning rather than translate word-for-word. You know? The issue is, translating word-for-word would produce mostly nonsense on this one, since my interpretation of its meaning is largely coming from reading between the lines. There's also no real meaning outside of the four bullet points above. It's all vibes. So, this is a vibe-focused translation. When Kuukou says something with no meaning (that I can tell) outside of wordplay, I've exchanged it with a fresh wordplay. At the same time, since I assume the audience wants to know the minutiae, I put footnotes at the very end for the most curious souls. Finally, outside of wordplay moments, there is no attention paid to rhyming, rhythm, or line length.

Also I spent like forty minutes on it so it isn't a polished work of art or anything of the sort. Lyrics:

You wanna piece of this? That’s cool, tough guy. Bring it on. ‘Cause I’mma mess you up. Hmm? You’ve had enough? Yeah, bitch, I bet you’re fuckin’ SATIETIED. Who the hell do you think you are? Aw, who I am kidding? It doesn’t matter who you are. I’ve never met an ass I couldn’t kick! And while I’m here thrashing your sorry butt, listen up. I’m Kuukou from Bad Ass Temple, representing Nagoya, yo. And I’m gonna be world champion. Whazzat? Who do I think I am, some kinda fancy-pants hotshot? Nah, dawg. I’m a monk, haha! Get in the zone, do it or go home, this ain’t the scene you’ve known. [1] I’m a rebellious rhymer staging a revolution. C’mon, join me! Let me hear your voices!

“Enough determination can move mountains,” as they say. Yeah, a-a-a-and I’ve got determination for days.

San gha gharan bam! [2] S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue [3] Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader [4] Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Say what? Rules, rules, rules—who the fuck cares about rules? I’m the ruler now. A ruler and a schooler. [5] Yo, I’ve got that brand new music— When I ring this giant bell, people hear that shit far and wide. Beat it! And lyrics? You already know I spit so much fire they call me a dragon. I’m all about the impulses, the anarchy, let’s fuckin’ go! I’m a breath of fresh air up in this shit. Eight pulls, nine pulls, ten pulls—someone say temples? [6] If you don’t know already, then you oughta listen up. You don’t need any of these options. Go make your own. Paint that shit vibrantly. Go try something new! And if it goes so well you can indulge in some goddamn rejoicin’? Then hell yeah, now we’re talking.

Yo, man. The world’s all in how you see it, as they say, and don’t you ever forget it. A-a-a-and I may be a monk, but I’m not preachin’ just to scold you! [7]

San gha gharan bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Yeah, life’s got ups and downs. You asking me, “Whatchu lookin’ at?” [8] Your ASS, lol got ‘em. Wassup, wassup, I’m a rhymer. I’m makin’ some good shit up in here. Hm? Ey, dance, dance over days when our hearts are aligned [9] Shoo bidoo doo bidoo Roo bidoo doo bidoo Tickili tickili tackili-tatt-too

Yeah! Haha! My rapping’s freakin’ EXHILARATORY. Hello! Aight, c’mon on, lemme give you some of this and wake you right up. Yo, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, ho!

Gharan bam gharan bam Gh-gh-gh-gh hey! Bring it on, tough guy! R-r-rapping, rapping, r-r-rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue R-r-rapping, yeah, gh-gh-gh, hey!

Yeah, clear the scene, ‘cause I’mma reinvent the scene. [10] Yo, get outta my way. I’m Evil Monk, the dragon of Bad Ass Temple, you know. Rrrrrrah! [1] This last is literally "clear weather (空)" or "energetic vibes (空)." At face value, it appears to be nonsense for rhyming. However, at the very end of the song, Kuukou talks about "the vibes/the scene (空気)" changing and him changing it (which can also be read as the weather changing/clearing up), which makes me wonder if those two are related. Just in case, I wrote them with a possible connection in English too.

[2] 僧伽藍 (sangharan) is a short form of 僧伽藍摩 (sangharama), a Buddhist temple or monastery. Bam is, of course, the sound of Kuukou throwing hands.

[3] 饒舌 (jouzetsu) is a fairly formal word in Japanese to refer to excessive talking. However, I was surprised to learn in the process of TLing this that it's also Chinese for rapping which appears to be how Kuukou's using it here. Also, if you're curious how English "jazzy" became "razzle-dazzle," I realized near the end of the song that I needed to start this word with the same sound as "rapping" (because he scats the j sound on jazzy and jouzetsu) whereupon I set out to find a good synonym. The issue is, I wasn't sure exactly how the lyric writers were using the term, so I put "jazzy" in an English-to-Japanese dictionary to get "loud, invigorating, eye-catching." Yeah, that's Kuukou all right. "Razzle-dazzle" is similar and starts with an r, so there we go.

[4] The lyrics say "xy な leader" (the な is just indicating that "xy" is being used as an adjective, btw) which I assumed means sexy... ekkusu ii said quickly sounds like sekushii. To be sure I wasn't barking up the wrong tree entirely, I ran a quick Twitter search on that line and found a very large number of Japanese Tweeters thinking the exact same thing I was. (It looks like Kuukou's VA once flashed his collarbone on this line in a concert, delighting scores of collarbone lovers everywhere.) That being said, searching anything on Twitter and finding horny Tweets isn't exactly a novel concept. Well, if I'm wrong about this, then at least I'm in the good company of all the thirsty Kuukou fans. Hahaha. If this seems OoC to you, I feel like it's here mainly for fanservice, not necessarily because Kuukou's trying to get some with the person he's beating up and/or preaching at. Although, idk. If you ship Kuukou with anyone, you could very well see some parallels...

[5] Literally "I'll beat up [everything] including the roulette board." Wordplay on rules (ruuru), ruler (ruuraa), and roulette (ruuretto)

[6] Literally "Terapii (therapy), terapii, terapii, tera (temple)-- Oh, the age of temples?" Wordplay/stupid joke

[7] I don't like how I worded this line, but I don't care enough to spend much more time fussing over it. Kuukou's making a joke that, as a monk, he delivers religious sermons 説法. However, in colloquial terms, a 説法 is a telling-off when someone does something undesirable. Kuukou, as a frequent doer of undesirable things, gets these from his dad constantly. Therefore, he's being like, "This isn't the LAME STUPID kind of 説法... this is the kind that ROCKS! *sick guitar riff*"

[8] These two lines seem like complete non sequiturs because they're paired together in Japanese for rhyming. (nami ga dekiru/nani ga mieru)

[9] I admit that I'm struggling to understand this line because the grammar is very irregular. Japanese Twitter is not being especially helpful here, as most Tweets featuring it are some version of "God, this damn song is stuck in my head."

[10] Literally "[Someone] changes the atmosphere/scene. The atmosphere/scene changes." See note 1

#hypmic translations #hypmic asks

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sp00kymulderr · 7 months

Text

take the long way home - part 2

series masterlist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x afab reader

Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, one night stand, cursing, reader is a mess, Marcus is Marcus.

Word Count: 1k

Series Summary: Classic story, right? You meet a handsome man, let him take you home, and plan to never see him again. Of course, these things rarely go to plan.

A/N: To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates or see taglist details on my masterlist.

Marcus feels sick.

The moment he see's you in that meeting room, his new employee, he feels quesy with it. You...the person who had come in to his life one evening and left it without a word the next morning. He had thought about seeing you again, too many times to count...but hell, not like this.

Definitely not like this.

When he had woken up that morning to find you already gone from his bed, from his home and from his life his first feeling had been quite reasonably one of disappointment. Marcus hated waking up alone, no one to talk to, no one to kiss good morning - in the past he had even chased relationships just to not be alone. After a breakup he would wake unfulfilled and lonely in bed, unable to shake the feeling for weeks. After Teresa it had been worse.

Maybe he was naive but he had assumed you would at least let him make you breakfast, after what you had let him do the previous night. But you hadn’t left even a note, not your number pinned to his fridge or a ‘thanks for the memories’. Not even a quick cup of coffee and a kiss on the cheek. Had it been too much to expect? Was he just not well versed on the one night stand anymore? Maybe he really was just still making mistakes over and over again…just like before.

Now he thinks back to that night. Before you’d gotten home - before you’d gotten in to his bed. You’d mentioned a new life - a new job and a fresh start - in that hopeful but melancholy tone that had drawn him to you in the first place. God, he had never thought for a moment the job could be here. In his department. Working with him. Maybe he should’ve asked more but then there hadn’t been much talking after the bar.

So Marcus stands in that meeting room shell shocked and feeling sick. Not just that…he feels anxious and unsure and he doesn’t even think there is protocol in the HR documents for this kind of thing.

He stays silent for just a beat too long and someone in the room clears their throat. He’s just standing there barely through the doorway, staring at the new hire.

The prettiest new hire he could've ever imagined.

Damn he was screwed.

****

You give him a smile, hopefully something professional and not something that says ‘oh god oh god I slept with my boss’.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Pike" You say confidently, saving him from his freeze as you stand up to shake his hand. If you can just keep everything professional you’ll be fine, right? It was one night and it didn’t mean a thing, right?

The contact of his hand on yours sends a spark of memory right through to your brain and you have to blink sharply to stop seeing that same hand disappearing beneath the hem of your dress not that long ago.

"You alright, boss?" One of the others, Michael you think, says to him.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. Busy morning, just trying to catch my thoughts before we go over this case" Marcus clears his throat and finally moves to sit down at the head of the table.

"So..." he takes one more moment, a breath, before pulling some papers from a binder.

There’s a syndicate of art forgers operating out of Chicago. Marcus talks the team through it as you try so, so hard to listen and not think about the things your mind is apparently determined to make you think on. This is your new job and your new life; you can't screw it up just because you screwed the wrong person.

Not again.

You want to think about work. You’ve uprooted your whole life to be someone new, someone better. But how the hell can you be that when your boss is a man with huge brown eyes and a soulful stare and a kiss that could stop time?

Somewhere in the distance you hear someone saying your name, but you're pretty damn lost in whatever the hell is happening in your mind.

"Huh?" You say, and see eight expectant faces staring back at you.

"Did you want to...can you introduce yourself to the team?" Marcus is speaking, of course it's his voice.

His voice had moaned your name just a few short weeks ago. If it wouldn’t look completely nuts you’d slap yourself just to get that damn thought out of your head.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course” You mumbled, trying to get your thoughts back on track. You sit up straighter and try for that air of confidence.

“I just transferred from New York - Organized Crime division - going for a bit of a change after…” After I got my heart broken by my partner… “After closing off one of the biggest cases. I needed something uh, different”

Not a lie, although not the whole truth. You’d worked with your partner for years and you’d loved them for years and then they’d met someone else. Just like that. After the case you’d been chasing for years was finally put to an end you’d had to get out of there and never see them again. But your new team didn’t need to know that. Your new boss definitely didn’t need to know that.

You look at the team. All of them pleasant, all of them welcoming. But all you feel is this pit of dread in your stomach. You don’t look at Marcus. After a few questions about your work, and an introduction to the others' roles they’re leaving the room before you even realize the meeting has ended.

And just like that it's you and Marcus in the room together.

You clasp your hands together and stand awkwardly from your chair. You should look at him but god you don't want to look at him. How could you have let this happen, why did you have to go home with him that night? Why did you have to keep making these stupid decisions?

"So...new job huh?" Marcus finally breaks the silence with a weak voice and you look over at him, steeling yourself. You will not be taken in by those warm brown eyes, you will not.

"Yeah. New job" You start, not sure what exactly to say

“We should probably talk-“ He begins but you cut him off with a shake of your head.

"Look…Blank slate? Lets just- We’ll pretend we’ve never met before. It was only one night, it’s not like we know each other”

Perhaps in your dream world, you’d like this to be different. He’s handsome and kind and you had really enjoyed your night with him. But this is the real world, and life isn’t a goddamn fairytale where you can make eyes at your boss without consequence.

“This job is really important for me. It's really, really important I don't screw it up" You explain and look at him with pleading eyes. Marcus looks disappointed? Upset? You're not sure. You don't like his expression.

"Blank slate, yeah, that's fair. I wouldn't want to start you off on the wrong foot here…. It was just the one night. Right" Marcus's voice is a little quiet, like he's not sure he believes those words as he looks at you - you feel like his eyes are searching yours for something. You try very hard to not give him anything to find.

“Well…" He finally gets up, saying your name as he opens the door for you.

“Welcome to the team. It’s nice to meet you”

#Marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal character fiction #Pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories #take the long way home #series #Gideon writes

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amywritesthings · 3 months

Text

Operation: Battlepass (AKA the Totally Awesome Plan to Play Wingman by Yuuji Itadori) / a Choso x OFC story

After choosing to live together as brothers, Yuuji decides to introduce Choso to the wonderful world of gaming. What he didn't expect is for Choso to fall head over heels for his online friend. Naturally, hijinks must ensue, and the gang comes up with a plan to make this romcom a reality.

word count: 3k (part one of ??) tags: au - canon divergence, fluff, romantic comedy, told in yuuji's pov, ultimate big brother!choso, gaming, online friendshipcredit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

read on ao3 here.

PART ONE: THE INTRODUCTION

disclaimer: this is a very crack slice of life story. everyone's alive. itadori is friends with an adult through online gaming. their dynamic is very much 'you're a kid and i have to protect you from weirdos in gaming lobbies'. iris is inspired by my own older online friends growing up. it's nothing nefarious.

Yuuji Itadori has never been a wingman.

Well — kind of.

If you scratch all of the times that Itadori went along with the ‘Save Megumi’ plan conjured up by the brilliant (and twisted) minds of Gojo-sensei and Kugisaki, then he’s technically never been a wingman.

Come to think of it, he’s never really given the act of dating much thought.

It isn’t like he’s ever had much skin in the game.

Itadori’s never had a partner, for one.

Fushiguro is smooth enough to flirt without anyone’s help, two.

Kugisaki can be a little intimidating all on her own, three.

So it leaves… well, Itadori to cheer on his perfectly-capable friends as they navigate what it means to be a teenager.

It also leaves him wondering if one day he’ll know the tv-show-butterfly feeling of helping two lonely souls get together.

(He really should focus on his own love life, but given the whole Sukuna ordeal? That’s a mess he hasn’t quite ironed out yet.)

Enter: Choso, his alleged big brother from another mother.

(Or another father? That’s another thing he’s gotta iron out. More at 11.)

Getting a two-bedroom bachelor pad with the guy you only met, like, a few weeks ago wasn't on his year-end bingo card.

"Really?" If Fushiguro and Nobara question something simultanously, that usually spells danger.

"Yeah!" Itadori exclaims, sipping on his tea. "I mean, why not, right?"

"Wasn't he the guy trying to kill you?" Fushiguro grunts.

"Then he changed his mind on a dime and demanded he protect you with every blood cell in his body?" Nobara adds, lips trembling from her attempt to hide a smile at her pun.

(Neither of the boys catch it.)

Itadori grimaces. "Well, when you put it that way..."

Fushiguro leans back. "Trying to kill you—"

Nobara leans forward. "—to defending you—"

They come together again, and Itadori sinks in his booth.

"—in a few hours."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Itadori whines. "But it'll be fine. We're great pals and figured it out. He's totally normal now."

So normal that Choso's in the booth at the other end of the restaurant, sipping a coffee black with a newspaper upside-down, waiting to take Itadori and his friends to the shopping district later.

(It's a little weird admittedly, but Itadori thinks it's endearing. He cares!)

So, yeah.

He ditched living at Jujutsu High in order to move in with his brother under the approval of his instructor.

Maybe it was a hasty decision, but Itadori will take the blame on that one.

Call it excitement or stupidity, he doesn’t mind.

After spending a lot of his life wishing he had a sibling of his own, it’s kinda cool to live a brother.

Not even a brother, but a big brother who takes his job very seriously.

For starters, Itadori always gets to order wherever he wants for takeout dinner, which never got to happen back at Jujutsu High.

Fushiguro used to be apathetic about what they’d order, which meant Kugisaki took the liberty in steamrolling every decision.

Now?

Itadori gets to show Choso every single one of his favorite foods and then some.

The guy doesn’t eat much — apparently something to do with being a curse, not that Itadori judges — but he thoroughly enjoys the nights watching Choso squint over a takeout box trying to figure out what the heck is in the thing.

It’s nice teaching someone else the ropes, rather than feeling clueless in his own life.

He shows Choso how to cook; how to clean, though they’re both fairly great at lifting furniture to get into those hard-to-reach spots; how to pay bills over the internet — or just to pay for bills in general.

However, there is one important item in life he has to show his big brother:

Video games.

Apparently all he ever played when he was with Jogo, Brains, and Mahito were board games.

Snooze.

Boring.

“Today is your lucky day,” he tells the man with tightly-coiled space buns one day while Choso's watching television.

Itadori thrusts a coveted console controller into his view with excitement.

Choso blinks down at it with confusion.

“Because I — Yuuji Itadori, your little bro — am going to show you the wonders and joys of gaming.”

“I know how to play games, Yuuji,” Choso flatly replies, though there’s a warmth to his tone no matter when he speaks to Itadori.

The pink-haired boy shakes his head.

“I’m not talking about Life or Trouble or, ugh, Monopoly — though you can technically play them on a console.”

Choso’s brows slide high: really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Huh.”

The man with the black strip over his nose tests the weight of the console controller in his hand, lip slightly pouted.

“So what do you… do?”

“Press buttons, mostly.”

Itadori holds up his own decked-out controller — a modified neon blue and black masterpiece that glows in the dark — and presses a few of the buttons to show him.

“You’ll get used to it. Trust me, it’s way easier in practice.”

Sitting beside his brother with crossed legs, he triggers the console to wake up to its dashboard.

The game show disappears, and a brilliant burst of color takes over the screen.

The reaction is priceless — Choso’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

Aw, yeah, he has him interested now.

“Do you play these games with your friends?” Choso asks quietly, poking at a button with his thumb.

“Sometimes,” Itadori replies. “Fushiguro isn’t a fan of them. Nobara gets way too competitive. Like… scary competitive. We limit her screen time.”

Choso snorts. “I can picture that.”

Itadori grins and opens up a few window menus so he can set up a profile for Choso on his console.

He hands over his main controller and gestures to Choso.

“Pick whatever profile photo you want.”

Sticking his tongue to the left in the exact way Itadori does when he’s concentrating, Choso flicks over the right joystick to search through the images.

“Itadori?”

“Yeah, Choso?”

“I don’t see my face.”

“Huh?”

“The photographs.” Choso points to the screen. “Where am I?”

Itadori blinks before he realizes.

“Oh! You… don’t, ha. You pick a character.” He pauses. “Like how you choose a thimble or a car and stuff in Monopoly.”

Choso sucks in a sharp inhale and nods in understanding before fluttering through a few more options with more confidence.

He settles over a photo of Lara Croft from the Tomb Raider series before clicking it.

“Like this?”

“What, you like Lara?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yeah, she’s kinda super badass.” Itadori takes back the controller to finish up his profile. “My one online friend really likes those games—”

Then, brilliance hits him.

It doesn’t happen often, but today?

Itadori strikes gold.

“Oh, hey — if you want, you can kinda see how me and my one friend play. She’s usually on at this hour. Here.”

He pauses to reach around the couch only to hold out a headset for Choso to take.

“Wear this. It’s my spare.”

With that same inquisitive squint, Choso observes at the headphones with scrutiny.

Itadori showcases how to put them on, popping his RGB headset over his head and squishing his pink hair to his head.

It takes a little finessing with his hairstyle, but Choso does the same. He lets the headphones sit on his head and doesn’t move.

“You good?”

“What?” Choso’s voice shouts over the noise-cancelling feature.

“I said are you—” Itadori pauses, holding up a thumbs up.

Choso blinks. Then his thumb raises.

Good.

Itadori blinks back to the television screen where he signs on as himself — YuuMasterGeneral — before searching for a particular name on his friends list.

Truth be told, he’s only ever talked to this girl.

He has no clue what she looks like in person because he’s never met her in person, but she sounds pretty nice.

After Grandpa got sick, there wasn’t much to do around the house.

Sitting in a quiet house wasn’t cutting it, so Itadori tried his hand at online gaming lobbies.

Most of them sucked.

Most of them were full of assholes.

But he got lucky — an older girl that went by the moniker of Iris was nice enough to join his team.

That first night, they talked for hours about nothing in particular. Eventually he told her about his grandpa, and she added him as a friend. Iris told him to poke her whenever she was on so he had someone to play with.

Honestly? It was exactly the kind of lifeline he needed at the time.

After that, he gamed with Iris pretty regularly. Although they mostly game, sometimes they chat about their other hobbies. He's learned she has a full-time job, just recently graduating from university. A few times she's given a sprinkle of real life advice, from an adult figuring it out a couple of steps ahead of a teenager.

He felt safe. Seen.

He and Iris have been friends ever since.

Iris was good at gaming. Like, impossibly good.

So good she’d probably even beat Nobara.

But she wasn’t obnoxious about her wins, which was why Itadori enjoyed chatting with her so much.

Last time he talked to her was maybe six weeks ago. She’d been busy with her day job, but Itadori had been really busy with… well, everything to do with sorcery.

Surely she wouldn’t get weirded out about showing his older brother the ropes, right?

Iris was a private person, something Itadori could very respect, but he felt comfortable enough to invite her into this little debacle of his life now that Choso was going to be a permanent member of his family.

IRISSIRI IS ONLINE.

“Oh, cool, she’s on.”

“Who?” Choso asks, pushing a headphone off of his ear so he can hear Yuuji properly.

“My friend, Iris,” Itadori explains as he clicks to invite her to a party chat.

He then adds Choso, whose eyes widen at the magical sound of his little brother’s voice suddenly coming through the headset clear as day.

“This sounds…”

Choso trails off, blinking as he hears the echo of his own voice.

Itadori laughs and leans over to mess with his settings once more.

“Sorry — gotta mute yourself, buddy, otherwise we’ll get an echo going.”

Then a tiny chime sounds, and the brothers simultaneously stare at the television.

“Hello?”

Her voice is smooth as honey and soft, like she’s surprised to get the call.

Itadori immediately perks up, but he notices how Choso doesn’t move.

He just… stares, lips parted.

“Iris!” he greets excitedly. “Hey! Long time, no chat.”

“Yuuji,” she greets in return with a small smile in her voice. “Hey, no kidding. How’s it going? And who’s this…. Guest, person?”

“Oh — I haven’t given him a username yet. Iris, I wanted you to meet my big brother, Choso. Choso, this is my online friend Iris.”

He turns his head to look at Choso in the glow of the tv, but his brows furrow when he notices the pale complexion of Choso’s face turn a warm pink.

“Choso?” she asks, and Choso’s throat bobs.

Maybe he’s nervous about new people?

He’s never really been that nervous before.

“I didn’t know you had siblings!”

“Ha, yeah, it’s a complicated situation,” Itadori explains before flicking up his microphone stick so he can whisper directly to Choso: “You can speak in the microphone, you know.”

Choso clears his throat, his pink face turning scarlet in stark contrast to the black stripe across the bridge of his nose, before nodding.

“....I’m his big brother.”

“Cool, cool,” she chides in return, and Itadori can’t even believe what he’s seeing:

His older brother practically melts in his seat as he presses a hand gently to his headphone as if to push it closer to his ear.

"It’s super nice to meet you, big brother Choso.”

Choso bites his lower lip and glances up at the screen. “You… have a really pretty voice—”

Uh oh.

Abort mission.

Itadori flies off of the end of the couch to quickly flick his microphone up to mute them both for a little familial aside. “Dude!”

Choso’s surprised, still sporting the blush.

“What?”

“You can’t hit on my online friend!”

“I wasn’t hitting anyone, I was talking!” Choso hisses right back under his breath.

“Hitting on, not hitting!"

"Whatever!"

"Look: telling my friend she has a pretty voice is a little weird, okay?”

Suddenly the man looks a little worried. “It is?”

Itadori nods. “Yeah. Girls get bothered online all the time. Just… be cool.”

He slowly drops his microphone back down.

Choso deflates and nods.

“Sorry about that! Yeah, no, he’s never played video games before so I thought we could show him how it’s done.”

“It's fine. But wait: he’s never played video games before?” Iris asks over her mic with a little laugh. “Seriously?”

Choso smiles small at that.

It’s lopsided and goofy.

Itadori feels like he’s in the twilight zone.

“Did he live under a rock?” she adds in a gentle tease.

“Something like that.” Yuuji tells her, quickly loading up Fortnite for a game of Duos so Choso can listen and watch. “He’ll just hang with us while we play, if that’s cool with you?”

“So long as he doesn’t mind me asking him questions while we play,” Iris replies, sending a quick game invite to Itadori’s screen.

Both Itadori and Choso stare at one another.

Choso points at himself.

Itadori nods and points at him.

“Me?” Choso asks in a bit of a confused voice.

“Well, I’ve known your little brother for two years now, but I don’t exactly know you, ” Iris explains. “In a way, I kinda felt like his far-away big sister, so I'm happy to know he's got someone looking after him. So how old are you?”

Choso sits up a little taller.

“I'm one hundred and fif—”

“The same age as you!” Itadori chirps, cutting Choso off. “He’s twenty five.”

He can not have his normie friends find out about curse spirits and all of that insanity.

Itadori’s just grateful Sukuna never appeared cackling at his cheek in the middle of an intense match to make a pass out of bad taste.

Choso looks absolutely confused, but he slowly nods in tandem with Itadori’s pleading nod.

“...yes, I am... twenty-five years old.”

“Sweet, same age,” Iris chirps, and that goofy little look shows up on Choso’s face again.

(What gives, dude?!)

“And you’ve never played a single game before?” she asks as they load into the next lobby.

“I like Life.”

“The board game?”

“Yeah.”

“I was so bad at that game.”

“The spinner can really put you in debt,” Choso agrees with a solemn nod—

And Iris giggles.

Itadori blinks.

As he departs his character from the sky bus at the location Iris placed on the map, his lips begin to pull down to a grimace.

He’s never heard her laugh like that.

Not even when she's put toxic guys to shame and made them rage quit in Call of Duty.

“How did you meet my younger brother?” Choso asks, suddenly emboldened by the laugh.

“We met in a Destiny 2 lobby, actually,” Iris explains happily. “He helped me with a few of my bigger raids. When I found out the kid was fifteen-something, I felt like I had to make sure no one was a jerk to him in any future lobbies.”

“So you protected him?” Choso murmurs with surprise.

“More like shepherded him through games, sorta like a—”

“—big sister would,” Choso finishes for her.

“Kind of! Like I said earlier, Yuuji’s a good kid. And he’s really solid at playing games.” Iris clears her throat. “Yuuji, six o’clock. There is a drop over there.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“Yuuji.”

“Miss!” Itadori corrects. “I mean Miss!”

“Jesus, he acts like I’m fifty sometimes,” Iris bemoans, and Choso smirks.

“Yeah. He acts like I’m a hundred and fifty,” the older man cheekily replies, and Itadori scowls.

On Itadori’s screen, they watch as a potential enemy rounds the corner of the building Itadori’s looting —

He doesn't act fast enough to attack —

But suddenly they fall to their knees, before bursting into confetti with all of their items strewn about.

K.O.

They both hear Iris whistle from her microphone.

“Respect your elders, kid.”

“Thanks, Eye. I didn’t realize there were people on my spot,” Itadori chimes.

Yeah.

Because he’s too busy listening to Choso act like he’s going to eat the mic to get closer to Iris —

And the fact that his online friend, his very normal friend, is giggling the way some girls giggle whenever…

They look…

At Gojo-sensei.

Itadori stops moving his thumbs on the controller, too deep in thought to play as Iris carries them.

She's scoping perimeters while he's busy putting the puzzle pieces together.

He's blushing.

She's giggling.

His Mikasa Ackerman avatar gets shot down, and Iris is shouting that she's coming back to save him —

But his eyes are on the guy opposite to him on the couch staring intently.

Not at the game, no.

At Iris’ little avatar that shows up every time she speaks.

Her icon's a little chibi Lara Croft.

Kind of like his generic Lara Croft icon.

Some weirdly-fated choice in a sea of happenstances.

Huh.

Wait a second.

"Hey, Choso, do you mind taking over for me in the next game?"

Choso whips his attention, eyes widening with uncertainty. "Me?"

Iris laughs again, and Itadori sees it in real-time: that butterfly-in-your-stomach goofy face, smack dab on Choso's lips.

"I'm down if you're down, Choso."

Quickly he takes the glowing controller from his younger brother and straightens up. "I can learn."

"Just don't go running off on me on the map, alright?" Iris requests playfully. "Stick with me and we'll easily get to last twenty."

"I won't fail you," Choso promises with a nod.

Itadori crosses his arms, observing and listening to Iris explain the game gently to Choso.

Although she was just as gentle with him, Itadori can hear something different in her voice. It's like she's trying to get Choso to answer her so he can talk. She asks him questions that will get him to talk more and more, until they're having a full-blown conversation without Itadori in sight.

Interesting.

He likes her voice, that much he's deduced.

But does she like his voice, too?

Something's happening here.

The cogs are turning.

Maybe —

Just maybe —

Yuuji Itadori can actually be a real, bonafide wingman.

#choso kamo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo x ofc #choso x female reader #choso x original female character #choso kamo x original female character #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk fic #jjk fanfiction #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori fanfic #amywritesthings #operation battlepass

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fountainpenguin · 13 days

Text

"I'm not the kind of girl to get messed up with you- Hello! ... You're all right, but I'm here, darling, to enjoy the party..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 31 - “Flame (Etho, Skizz, Pearl)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Scar files a microaggression complaint with the HALO team. Pearl helps Scott settle in while he recovers from glitchy code. They have a spat that's not about a sticker.

Meanwhile, SnifferMyFeet and Etho separate their souls… and start an honest talk about Sniff's identity as Sniff, not Joel. It was needed. It's for the best.

(First 900 words under the cut)

---

Etho - Fox

Status: Resting

Self-taught programmer, full-time hero

💙 💙 💙

He gets it now.

It's like ice in your water. It's like marshmallows in your cocoa. It's like wind beneath your wings. The final week before he's due back in Between (reluctantly, but definitely due), Etho flops on his bed and sprawls his arms to either side. Is he giddy? He doesn't mean to be, but this feels…

… Oh, it's a game-changer. Which is exactly what he texts Cleo after scooping up his admin panel. They won't see it if they've left their private server, and since Session 2 of Dog's Life could be starting any day now, there's no telling how long that may take.

Etho: hey so Etho: remember after limlife 4 or 5 when we talked about burnout?

Grocery shopping. For a family dinner- he and Cleo both made one (like a peace offering) in a way that wasn't really flirty married life roleplay, but more like… regular, everyday person roleplay. Did all their shopping together so they wouldn't cook the same thing. Call it 'date night' if you want; he walked her home and there might've been a little 'dramatic logout' roleplay in there. We don't… We don't need to go into detail about it.

To some people that's romantic and to some it's completely gross. Not really sure why… It's a natural process, isn't it? Soul-eaters can't help being what they are, and you may as well snap at endermen hybrids for struggling with eye contact or shame unthreaded players if they expose their glitches instead of keeping them covered up. This world's too big and life too long for arguing. Do you really want to make enemies and be rude to people who are going to carry the echo of your words for the rest of their lives?

Lend a helping hand. Extend a little kindness. Be polite. Respond to the hurt. Try not to avoid responsibility when others are counting on your strength. Sit with the injured, even when the night is cold. They're simple goals, but so easily forgotten these days.

Etho: I think you said if I felt stuck then I should break my routine for a while

Nothing happens for several minutes. Etho rotates words without meaning through his head, then types out something else.

Etho: you were right. I get now why you go on adventures with Martyn. Why you let him and no one else log you out all the time. Thanks for the advice. Let me know next time you need a favor. Rating this cycle 10 of 10 and I owe you big xD

He takes a long, guilt-free nap in his cushioned bed. Catching up on block updates and videos really drains a guy (especially this close to the end of the Hermitcraft season, not to mention Vault Hunters and a Life series on top of it), but he spent all morning prepping the bed and it's already providing every agonizing tick of its worth. Two hours later, he's stirred awake by a buzz on the admin panel.

ZombieCleo: yay! So glad that worked for you <3 I want to hear all about it. Maybe in a couple weekends you can watch MCC with me and the kids + Martyn? If we catch a minute alone, I can recommend more stuff you might be into ;)

The kids refers to Bdubs and Scar, who skated through Limited Life like energetic teenagers spreading their wings. It's goofy, it's endearing, and Cleo's got her roleplay voice on because she knows it makes him snort. His tail gives a twitch as he tries to keep a smirk from creeping out behind his mask.

Martyn, huh? he muses, but doesn't say that. Cleo circles between lovers, friends, and exes like a pollinating bee.

Etho: whoaaaa Etho: inviting a fox? that's dangerous! ZombieCleo: nose out of your tail, fur boy Etho: dibs on Martyn, I see ZombieCleo: If you're serious about returning the favor, Martyn says Rhetoric's down here and this might be our best chance at smash and grabbing from your mum's museum Etho: Hm… ZombieCleo: I mean, you did leave my eggshell when you rescued Grian and that other soul

Yeah- it looked distressed. Now Sniff's down here. He can actually talk now when he couldn't before. Honestly, not the worst decision he could've made.

If anyone's going to try getting into the Fox Dragon's museum, a fox has the best chance of doing so. It's kept separate from the nesting cave where souls respawn, but even the deadliest traps won't keep foxes out since they'll just respawn. Unless they're traps that can't be dodged even with careful planning, or some sort of system that short-circuits code. The phantom roost is nearby, right? Frankly, phantoms are excellent trackers, they can fly, and they're probably the fastest of all non-swimming hybrids, so a phantom alone provides great security as-is.

Etho: I'll think about it. Not tonight, though. Full moon fox face isn't for me. Also if there are raiders there then that's probably the worst time to show up ZombieCleo: Fair ZombieCleo: I can think of something else, but if you ever get the chance, I want it back Etho: duly noted ✌️ ZombieCleo: btw say hi to Scar and Bdubs when you see them. They've been cracking nonstop jokes since you disappeared. One can only imagine they're attempting humor to bury immense throes of pain Etho: D:

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

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teecupangel · 4 months

Note

Ok so like I've been having thoughts about this. We usually go with how Juno and Minerva royally fucked Desmond over right? Plus aita (and I think Jupiter I can't remember, I think Demeter was a thing too but I'm rusty on Isu lore.) with their bullshit.

Anyway, so remember how Anubis was emphasized in Origins and Bayek actively worked for him in a way? Especially after losing Khemu. Naturally, I think Anubis would follow and protect the bloodline down to Desmond. Because Khemu wasn't supposed to die and now, what if the same thing is happening with Desmond where he isn't supposed to die either? Juno and Minerva are messing with his shit so much that they've basically altered the death date of his favored mortal's descendant.

And Anubis does not take kindly to the tampering of the balance. Of Ma'at. So what if he intended to set it right? So when Desmond is supposed to touch the Eye and do the bidding of either Minerva or fall for Juno's trickery, a third option rises up. Anubis cannot force the outcome to change with force, but he can nudge it off course for a mere moment to alter the result of the Calculations and give Desmond a fraction of a chance to survive.

And maybe if Desmond survives (knowing his luck, he likely will) they could look for the records of Thoth to figure out another way of saving the world. Since touching the Eye and altering the result might have caused only a temporary protection from the solar flare and another is coming.

Desmond dies and Anubis offers him an afterlife of his choosing, but not the kind Desmond expects. It's essentially a do over, a go back and start over kind of thing. Because although he lived, his life was never his own. And Anubis wants to give him that. A life of his own. A chance to change everything. But not without being prepared. Anubis will offer guidance when it is needed most and Sekhmet will not let him be without training.

Technically, Aita didn’t screw him over. He screwed Desmond’s son, Elijah, a lot though XD (Tinia/Jupiter had the least connection with him so I’m not sure how much he screwed Desmond other than being part of the Capitoline Triad that decided to pick him and Demeter didn’t have any appearance in AC other than maybe Odyssey? In a ‘someone uses a god’s name as an expression or something’ kind of way. As far as I remember anyway)

So let’s focus on how we can make this work.

Anubis would probably be part of an Isu research team that focused on the afterlife, maybe even becoming one of the Isus to escape the Solar Flare by using the afterlife program and… live in the Calculations as part of its system.

As the overseers.

The Calculations itself isn’t an entity but the very foundation of the world.

Many would say the soul.

Its fate.

The overseers are tasked with ensuring the Calculations do not end. That the world continues for eternity.

The death of the world means the death of the Calculations.

And without the Calculations, the overseers cannot exist.

He would be the one in charge of ensuring the Calculations stay the course in respect to the lives and deaths of the people.

There is always a margin of error, of course, because humans can show impressive feats of unpredictability at times and it is Anubis’ job to ensure the system can handle those margins of error.

But then…

More and more error pops up as time passes.

And Anubis, as a system administrator and having fused with the system itself, is tasked with finding what the anomaly would be.

And he learns it soon enough.

Juno wants Desmond to die, whispering to him the importance of human life. How one sacrifice is worth to protect the world.

Minerva is telling Desmond to stay his hand, to let the world burn. To keep Juno imprisoned or to save Desmond is unclear. Minerva is asking Desmond to be selfish and prioritize himself.

Either option does not bode well to Anubis according to the system.

The death of billions was not part of the Calculations. They were risking the destruction of the overseers that kept the Calculations going. They risk killing Anubis.

The death of Desmond Miles is a Calculation that will lead to many more deaths and damage to the world. The Calculations is already moving to that path for Desmond has a 98% probability of sacrificing himself at this point in time.

Anubis could let him die.

The tragedies and disasters that would follow his death were far apart enough to keep the Calculations and overseers in motion with minimal problem.

But…

Anubis was an overseer long enough to find… a bit of affection to life. The way mortals live, knowing they will die but doing everything they can to live nonetheless.

Looking for a reason for their lives.

Simply living their lives to the fullest.

Having hope for a brighter future.

Even those in the throes of despair, those who believed they could not get away from the darkness around them.

Whether they crawl out of it or if they are swallowed by it.

They were all beautiful in Anubis’ life.

Living beings are beautiful because they are all unique.

Even if the difference with someone else is minimal, it is still that difference that makes them one of a kind.

Makes them special.

And Anubis cannot do nothing when so many of them will be snuff out before they could live their lives to the fullest.

But he is an overseer.

He cannot intervene directly.

But with another overseer’s support…

He might be able to nudge it a bit.

To give Desmond Miles a bit more life than he actually has.

He knew the people who would be willing to give a part of their life for him.

The three men connected to him the most…

Their data exists in Anubis’ domain.

They might be dead.

But their lives…

No.

Memories.

For what is the very essence of life but the memories made?

As for an overseer to support him?

Sekhmet would help him.

Sekhmet oversaw war but her focus had always been in the lives that were saved. The warmth that lies in the people’s will to live.

Anubis can persuade Sekhmet.

There was still time.

“Entering the next room.” A team of armored soldiers with the logo of Abstergo at the back of their vest walked inside the innermost chamber of the Grand Temple, rifles drawn but finger not on the trigger.

“Target sighted.” The one leading the team said as he aimed his rifle at the lone figure lying on the ground. They begin to fan out as the one in front walked towards the figure cautiously. He made a hand signal and three more men aimed their rifles at the figure while they stayed further back. The other men aimed their rifles at the opening they came from and at the ceiling.

Just as the point man reached the figure, he turned around quickly when he heard a thud from behind him.

“What the fuck?!” The man shouted and the others turned around as another of their team is struck down before he could make a sound.

The darkness of the Grand Temple meant nothing thanks to their night vision goggles but what they saw…

Large figures with dog-like heads…

No.

Masks.

They were masks weren’t they?

“Fire! Fire!”

The three imposing figures used their shield to cover their body, the bullets ricocheting dangerously all over, hitting one of the men closest to them who fell back as he let out a scream.

“Aim for the legs!”

The figure simply covered their legs with their shield as they made their way towards the team and some of them shot at their head as well.

The bullets simply bounced off their heads.

One of them got lucky and managed to shoot the shoulder.

There was no blood.

The point man’s headgear was hit by one of the ricocheting bullets and he had to take it off before the shattered glass could harm him.

That’s how he saw it.

Black smokes coming from the wound. With golden sand falling from the wound.

As it slowly close up.

“Mayday! Mayday! We need- Argh!” Their radioman was struck down by an arrow from one of the figures just as its two companions reached them.

More fell to the other’s large axe.

While the pointman comes face to face with the last one, holding a sword…

He aims his rifle at the monster.

And screamed in pain as the monster cut both his arms off before he could pull the trigger.

He fell to his knees as blood pooled underneath him.

His eyes focused on the monster in front of him.

Behind him, he saw the rest of his team…

Slaughtered.

The figure…

No.

Subject 17…

He was being carried by the monster with the axe.

Did his blackened hand twitch?

He could not be sure.

The last thing he saw was the pommel of the monster in front of him.

The head of the eagle as the world turned dark.

Excerpts from Juhani Otso Berg’s report, December 21, 2012, 21:55.

“… there were no survivors. The remains of Sample Recovery Unit 3 will be collected by a separate team. Tech support informed me that all recording devices have been burnt. They do not know what could have burned them but there’s a high possibility that this was the work of a POE.”

“… my initial conclusion is that this was a trap set by the Assassins.”

“… Desmond Miles is still at large and is possession of a highly dangerous POE. Find and apprehend with the utmost caution.”

(The jackal masked figures are based on the Anubis servants you can fight in Origin’s Curse of the Pharaohs DLC. Up to you if they’re mindless servants sent to protect and support Desmond or I was hinting on ‘who’ they truly are XD Desmond wakes up later on and that’s when he comes to contact with Anubis.)

#i decided on the first version instead of time travel #because i thought it would be fun #assassin's creed #desmond miles #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot #ask and answer #anubis has a lot of lackeys in the giant boss fights in origins #that could totally be one of his boons to desmond #but that sounded op #so i just went with 3 elites

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milkistay · 2 years

Text

STRAY KIDS as best friends

pairing. bff!skz x gn!reader

format. headcanons

a/n. truly sorry there’s no “read more” on this post but chunks of my post kept getting deleted and messed up every time i tried putting it in :/

chan

- therapy best friends - listening to each other vent all the time - you’re the first person he goes to when he’s struggling and vice versa - you’ve developed such an immense amount of trust between the two of you like it’s crazy - if one of you shares a secret, that secret is not leaving the pair of you EVER - he cares about the people close to him so much and you’re no exception - remembers everything about you - favorite ice cream flavor, go-to drink order, every story you’ve told him—everything - in turn, he’s the BEST gift giver - you’ll mention wanting something in passing six months before your birthday and he’ll remember and get it for you - definitely one to write you long birthday cards about how much you mean to him - “what would i do without you?” - chan, all the time - he always texts you about whatever cool thing he saw - of course, he’s clingy - hugging you 24/7 - you two have definitely taken multiple naps together just cuddling - heals the soul - also asks you about your opinion on every song he produces because he wants to know what you think, even if you know nothing about music production - platonic soulmates 100%

minho

- people who see you guys for the first time think you hate each other - but that’s just your friendship - lighthearted insults and poking fun at each other - but you have so much love between you two - he thinks you’re the best person in the world - you share every thought with him and vice versa - you know the other better then they know themselves - he’s not one for verbal affection but once he wrote you a letter about how much he appreciated you and you cried - he has a list of all the cool places he wants to take you - you’re also the kind of best friends who could go months without talking and when you finally see each other, it’s like nothing has changed - not that minho would leave you alone for months - no, he’s texting you “hey look at this cat” all the time - he loves you too much to not be in contact with you every second that he can

changbin

- you do EVERYTHING together - changbin loves having company and you will be the company - whether you’re going to a fun amusement park or literally just to the grocery store, changbin will come with you - you’re a package deal - spending almost every waking minute together does bring two people closer - if you’re the kind of person that hates ordering or talking to strangers, changbin will do all of that for you with no issue - he’s very considerate when it comes to you - will be one to be like “did you sleep well?” and “have you eaten yet?” and if you say no he calls you stupid - he looks after you a lot, sometimes without realizing - just wants to make sure his best friend is healthy and happy - he definitely feels like your younger brother, you guys have a sibling relationship - poking fun at each other every now and then but having lots of love - comes to you 24/7 with “hey hey listen to these lyrics i just wrote”

hyunjin

- you two are in you’re own little world sometimes - going to art museums and sharing earbuds while talking in low voices to each other—fully just living life in one another’s company - it’s a good time - he loves telling you about his interests and you love listening and watching his eyes light up - he also just has so much??? love????? for you?????? - like he adores you and will hype you up all the time - brings you up in every conversation - you guys take so much photos of each other everywhere you go like you could make a giant photo album - he likes cherishing memories with you - and when you’re not together, he’s texting you every second about what just happened in his life and sending photos from wherever he is - you’re the first person he comes to when something's on his mind - cherishes your opinion

jisung

- certified idiots - you guys are just loud whenever you get in range of each other - everyone’s rolling their eyes at you when you two get going - world’s best comedy duo - but you know how to be serious and talk about some really deep emotional things - you’d trust each other with the biggest secret you have - you’re just so so close - honestly he feels like an extension of you and you of him - you two feel more complete when you’re together - everything is better when you’re with your best friend - sharing plates at dinners, trying new ice cream shops, walking in the park at night, spending early mornings at the studio listening to jisung mumble new lyrics for a song - enjoyment increases by 1000000% - no two people seem more made for each other than you two do - sorry if you get a partner one day, they might have to fight jisung to be your #1 priority

felix

- are you really best friends if the whole world doesn’t think you’re dating? - your relatives ask you if he’s your boyfriend every year - it’s only because you seem to spend every waking minute together doing everything and you’re attached at the hip and felix can’t keep his arm off your shoulders and you know everything about each other and you’d die for each other - the best best friends - you’ve developed some kind of secret language - when you two really get going, absolutely no one else can understand you - like you’re just making references and giving each other looks and you’re having a whole conversation that only makes sense to you two - he’s the kind to pick up something for you wherever he goes - your favorite candy at a convenience store, a souvenir when he travels, a small accessory when shopping - you’re on his mind all the time

seungmin

- such a comfy friendship - countless late nights spent watching whatever show and sharing snacks - the type of best friends to sit in the same room in silence for HOURS just doing your separate things - then he just goes “you wanna get food?” - and you go get food - quality time is the love language of your friendship - you’ll spend the whole weekend glued together going anywhere and doing anything - you’re too familiar with the quirks and eccentrics of seungmin - you’ll bring him up to other people and they’ll go “seungmin seems so quiet and calm” - and you’re just like ??????? - not your seungmin - he can be a little shit at times (a lot of the time) and you’ll be THIS close to throttling him and then he smiles and you’re like FINE i love u again

jeongin

- he uses his charms for evil - “y/n will you do me a favor...?” with the most heart-warming smile ever - of course you’re saying yes - king of acts of service - washing your dishes, doing your busy work, paying for you - and when you notice and thank him he denies it - you’ll mention that you really like this one sweater of his and the next day it’s on your bed in a gift bag - always ready and willing to give you fashion advice, even if you didn’t ask for it - “don’t wear that it doesn’t go with your shoes” - “i literally didn’t ask” - but you listen anyways - you trust that he’ll be honest with you no matter what so you come to him all the time for an opinion on something - when he’s upset or frustrated, you’re the one he confides in - you just get each other so well

#bff!skz #skz x gn!reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids best friend #best friend skz

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bellofthemeadow · 11 months

Text

The Road ahead - ch 4 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: A long overdue confrontation takes place where you have to face Frankie's lies.

Notes: Hello again everyone! Oh my God, I am so excited about this brand-new, shiny chapter!! That entire interaction was what brought me to imagine this fic in the first place. I hope you all like as much as I had fun writing it (I am a big slut for angst so beware). Thank you again for the support and let me know what you all think <3 <3 <3

Letting Go

Letter #1

August 19th, 2008

To the prettiest girl at the bar,

Hey there... So, before I go any further, I need to apologize for making my getaway from your place that morning in such a rush. I had to be on base at 0530, and I didn't want to disturb your sleep. Seriously, you looked so peaceful in that cozy bed of yours. If I had any type of artistic talent, I would've painted a masterpiece to capture that moment. I mean, I'm no Picasso or anything, but just imagine the most breathtaking sight you can ever imagine and that's exactly how you looked that morning.

I really hope I'm not coming across as strange or anything by reaching out to you like this. You see, as I was making my exit, I happened to glimpse your address on one of those letters sitting on your kitchen counter. And one of the perks of being an army pilot (aside from flying, of course), is that I tend to have a decent memory and your address stuck with me long enough to scribble it down later at base. Please, please don't get the wrong idea here! I know it might sound a bit, um, stalker-ish, but I promise you, that's not what's going on in the slightest.

I got to admit, I'm feeling a little shy about writing this letter. Swear to you, I've never done anything like this before! It isn’t some cheesy move that army dudes pull to charm the ladies (well, maybe some do), but I promise you, that isn’t my intention at all! I'm afraid I might be rambling here, and the more I go on, the more I feel like I'm messing this up!

To be honest, I didn't know what to do with your address. But it kept catching my eye every morning when I rolled out of bed and right before I hit the hay. The time we spent together just kept playing on a loop in my mind. And you? You've been sticking to my thoughts like glue.

That night we had; it was like sparks ignited in my head. I couldn't let it slip away without taking a shot, without letting you know how I’ve been feeling these past two weeks since that night.

I guess it's kind of unconventional, reaching out to you like this with a letter. But something inside me just wants to explore if there's something even more special that could sprout between us. I can't get your smile out of my head, or the perfect way we connected. It’s never happened to me before. It's like fate brought us together that night. Like our souls were destined to weave together. You’re always on my mind, and I'm aching to learn more about the beautiful soul that's stolen my heart.

So here I am at 3 am in my bunk, writing this letter while holding my breath and hoping you're open to taking a leap with me.

I'll be here, waiting for your reply. But please, know this: if what I felt, that connection I think we shared, doesn't resonate with you, there's no need to feel bad. I don't want you to feel obligated or burdened by any expectations.

Our time together was a precious moment, one that I hold dear and will hold dear forever. And if our hearts don't align in the same way, I understand. We all navigate our own paths, and sometimes they lead us in different directions.

Please, don't feel guilty if you choose not to respond. Our connection, albeit short, was a gift. I cherish the memories we created, and I will hold onto the possibility of what could have been with a grateful heart.

Wishing you nothing but happiness and fulfillment,

The terrible wingman from the bar,

(Francisco Morales)

Letter # 2

September 2nd, 2008.

Dear Francisco,

Your letter was a real shock, to say the least. I woke up the morning you left feeling so empty without you there. I combed through the entire house hoping to find a clue, maybe you had scribbled down your number somewhere. I must have deep-cleaned my apartment twice in the hope of finding a scrap of paper with your name on it. At some point, I thought it might have been a dream, that I had imagined that amazing, gorgeous, and generous man with whom I spent the night. I was sure I was crazy and then, out of nowhere, your letter came. It made me question whether you enjoy giving ladies emotional scares. I’ve barely known you for a full day and it already feels like being on a rollercoaster ride. Is this what life is for you Francisco? The helicopter pilot, always seeking a new high?

I want you to know that there's no need for you to worry. The connection we experienced that night has also stayed with me, occupying my thoughts ever since. It's as if the memory of our time together has become an integral part of myself, refusing to fade away. Your letter touched me in a way that no one else ever has. It was the most romantic and adorable gesture anyone has ever done for me.

I must confess, I feel deeply flattered by the lengths you've gone to express your feelings for me. It's not something you encounter every day—a man putting so much effort into writing a letter to a girl he spent just one night with. And while I cannot deny that such attention could have easily ventured into the realm of being slightly creepy, there is something inexplicable about your gestures that managed to bypass any unease within me.

I can't help but wonder what that means for you and me. Maybe, just as you said, it was fate that brought us together that night.

Francisco, now that you've opened the door to your world, I don’t intend to shut it close. My desire to know you better has blossomed into something more profound. I yearn to uncover the layers of your being and to understand the depths of your passions, dreams, and weaknesses.

Every time I close my eyes, the memory of your hands caressing my skin resurfaces, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. It's as if your touch awakened a dormant part of me, igniting a fire that I never knew existed. I find myself longing for the warmth of your embrace, the tenderness in your eyes, and the sound of your laughter that brought music to my ears.

But, Francisco, I also want to be honest with you. Your sudden disappearance left me confused and uncertain. I need reassurance that you are equally invested in seeing where this might go. I need to know that you won't disappear again without a trace. My parents fought constantly when I was a child. So for me, communication is essential, and I believe that openness and honesty are paramount to laying strong foundations for whatever this might become.

If those terms are agreeable, I will wait for your letter impatiently. In the meanwhile, please take care and make sure to prioritize your safety and try to avoid taking unnecessary risks for me. I can't help but worry about you, and I want nothing more than for you to stay out of harm's way as much as possible.

Warmly

The girl from the bar

Letter # 17

April 19, 2009.

Hola preciosa,

Once again, last night you appeared in my dreams, as you so often do. But this time, it felt unbelievably real, like a distant yet familiar memory that I couldn't quite grasp. We were together at your place, surrounded by warmth and coziness while raindrops fell outside. It was just the two of us, lost in our own little world, wrapped in the comfort of each other's presence. Although the exact details escape me, I vividly remember the way you touched me, as if your fingers left an indelible mark on my skin. If given the chance, I would choose to spend my last moments in your arms, savouring the most beautiful thing of all—your love.

Those mere four days we spent together back in January were nothing short of a cruel tease. It's as if every time I lay my eyes on you, my love for you sprouts like an overenthusiastic weed, making it increasingly excruciating to bid you farewell each time. I'm still amazed at how I managed to be only fifteen minutes late for base that day. Let's just say those extra rounds of push-ups were a small sacrifice in exchange for the extra pleasure of your company.

As I write this, Benny has decided it's the perfect time to hover behind me, boasting about his self-proclaimed status as the brilliant mastermind behind us. Can you believe him? As if his presence that night we met magically transformed him into a love guru. Anyway, Benny says hello, as do Will and Santi, although you haven't met them yet. I truly hope that the next time we all have time off from base, you'll have the chance to meet them. Those guys are like brothers to me, and I really want you to get to know them. I'm certain they'll like you as much as I cherish you.

I know that until now, we've kept our personal lives somewhat separate, with your work at the library, your family, and your friends, and the same goes for me. But now, I want you to be an integral part of my life, a constant presence. Even when I'm away, I want to know that I am yours and you are mine. You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking since January (Yes it happens often before you say anything), and I've come to realize that I can no longer imagine my life without you by my side. When I think about the future, I see you right there beside me. But if I try to imagine a life without you, it feels incredibly dark, and I feel like everything would lose its meaning.

I know this might sound completely insane. I know people would say that we haven't been seeing each other long enough for these kinds of declarations. But Hermosa, when you know, you know.

When I return from base, all I want is to hold you in my arms until they fall off. I want to be able to hold your hand as we stroll through town, and I want to shout from rooftops that you are mine! Even now, when I look at the picture you gave me, it fills me with a warm feeling that envelops my entire body, and I can't help but proudly show your picture to everyone, telling them how lucky I am that a girl like you would even remotely look at someone like me. You inspire me to be a better person, my lovely one. Everything feels worthwhile with you. I can't imagine a world where we're not together, and I want to think about you every single day for the rest of my life.

My dearest love, you are the sky that stretches above me. Just as the sun illuminates the world on bright days, you radiate warmth and light, filling my heart with boundless joy. When clouds gather and cast their shadows, it is you who transforms the room, turning even the gloomiest moments into something serene and comforting. I know that together we can weather any storms that may come our way.

My love, until Uncle Sam lets us be together again, I will keep on finding my comfort in those four days we shared in January. Those precious moments have woven themselves deep into my heart, and they hold a special place that no distance could ever diminish. I cannot wait to be home with you and create new memories to intertwine with them.

Please take care and know that I love you a little bit more every day.

Yours forever,

Frankie

Letter # 18

April 25th 2009

My sweet Frankie,

Your letter moved me to tears when I first read it. After I put it down, I picked it up again and found myself crying even more. I was afraid that I was the only one experiencing such intense emotions. I worried that perhaps you were more interested in a casual connection and that we might not be fully aligned in our desires for each other and our relationship. However, I'm relieved to discover that I'm not alone in feeling this deeply. Thoughts of you consume my mind constantly, and those days we spent together in January remain some of the most incredible moments of my entire life.

Frankie, I believe you complete me. You fill that void within me that I've always sensed, like finding the perfect missing puzzle piece to finish a picture. You are that missing piece, and since meeting you, my life has finally felt whole.

I couldn't care less about what others may say or think about us, Frankie. You are everything to me, and I want to shout it from my windows so that the whole world can hear. And if anyone wants to say that it's moving too quickly, then to hell with all of them! Every day, I find myself yearning for your presence beside me. I come across little things that remind me of you, and it makes me wish you were here with me. For instance, just yesterday at work, I was going through the donation bin and I stumbled on a children's book about helicopters. It instantly painted a picture in my mind of a little Frankie flipping through the colourful pages, and it filled me with so much warmth and affection.

Frankie, I also really want our lives to blend together. Meeting your friends would be amazing, and I hope you'll get to know mine too. I already had a great time with Benny, so I'm sure your other friends are just as awesome. Since I know how important they are to you, I'm genuinely excited about building bridges with them. I know it's uncertain when you'll be allowed off base or if there's a chance you might be sent far away from me. But maybe, just maybe, the next time you have some leave, we could start building this life together. Waiting any longer feels unbearable to me.

Until we can be together again, my dearest love, you will remain in my heart and appear in my dreams, bringing me some moments of respite while I wait for you. Despite the distance that separates us, my passion for you burns brightly and the flame of my love will keep burning ever bright regardless of the physical divide. With each passing day, I find myself yearning for the next time I will see you, but in the meantime, I will treasure the memories we have started to weave together. And I will find comfort in their warmth and hold onto the hope that our love will grow even stronger with every beat of our hearts.

Yours forever,

Letter # Too many to keep track of

June 12th, 2011

Mi cielo,

Do you remember that summer two years ago? Because I do. I had a two-week leave, and we went to the Miller's for a BBQ. You were wearing a beautiful blue dress that made you look like the sky on a clear summer day. God, you were so beautiful. We were having a great time when Benny told a stupid story that made you laugh so hard that your drink came out of your nose. I remember how embarrassed you got. But then you turned to me, and the embarrassment seemed to melt from your shoulder, and you couldn't stop laughing, your eyes were twinkling like the stars. It was such a beautiful sight and that's when I knew deep down that one day, I would marry you. You would be my wife, someone I would always hold, protect, and cherish until the end of time.

And today, my love, that day has arrived. You know how I struggle in front of a crowd, mi cielo. My words tend to stumble, and I find it challenging to maintain my voice. It's as if all the words jumble up in my throat, eager to escape all at once, resulting in a tangled mess of sentences. That's why I've chosen to write my vows to you in a letter, just like we've been exchanging since the day we first met. You once told me that you could see the truest version of me when I write to you, and I hope that on this special day, through this letter, I can make the side of me that can truly convey the depth of my love for you appear. Better than my spoken words ever could.

My beloved, from this day forward, I make you this lifelong promise. I promise to hold you close, to always offer comfort and support whenever you need it. You can count on me to be there, I will aim to be a steadfast presence in your life, like a rock you can always lean on. I will protect you and care for you for as long as live like a shield guarding against any storms that may come our way. No matter what challenges we face, I will be yours, never doubt that.

But mi cielo, my love for you goes beyond the grand moments that I hope will mark some of our journeys together. I vow to cherish you in the simple gestures also, where I think our love shines the brightest. Its with the gentle touch of our intertwined fingers, the way our laughter always seems to harmonize and in the unspoken understanding that always passes between us without the need for words.

As we walk side by side through the tapestry of life, I promise to be your faithful lover, always by your side, supporting you in every step you take. I will celebrate your victories with joy and stand with you during the challenges we encounter along the way. Together, we will continue to create a beautiful life that I cannot wait to keep on building with you

My beloved, today I pour forth these vows from the depths of my heart. They are not fleeting words but an enduring pledge, a testament to my unwavering love and devotion. As the days unfurl, my affection for you shall only deepen, like roots reaching ever further into the soil. I am filled with gratitude and blessed to call you my partner, my confidant, and my dearest friend.

Today I will say yes to forever with you and I know it will be the sweetest promise of all.

Te amaré siempre

Your Francisco

______________________________________________________________

"I want you to explain whatever the hell this is, Frankie. And no lies this time."

Frankie freezes. He cannot tear his eyes away from the 3 little baggies neatly placed in a row in front of you. Words get stuck in his throat as he tries to find something, anything to say to you.

"You've got nothing to say? Well, let me fill in the blanks for you, Frankie. I found one of these tucked away in your old boots, and the other one in your work drawer. I must admit, I'm still completely fucking baffled. How could you? How could you bring that into our home, Frankie? Especially when you're well aware of how absolutely unacceptable it is, especially with the baby."

Frankie looks around frantically, searching for an explanation. "How did you..."

"How did I find those? Well, I'm so glad you asked, Frankie." A surge of anger fuels your words as you take a step closer, your finger pointing accusatorily towards the door. "Let me shed some light on the precise moment when your little plan crumbled, right there in the car. The fucking car!!!" Your voice slices through the air, causing Frankie to wince.

"I had to learn from Benny and Will how you got back on cocaine! They slapped me in the face with the truth about your lies, how you’ve been deceiving me from the moment the plane touched the ground! How could you not tell me, Frankie? I thought we were doing well; you promised you would talk to me if things were getting hard!"

You take a deep breath, attempting to sort through the jumble of words clamouring to escape all at once. Emotions, accusations, fears, and disappointments vie to be hurled at Frankie.

"Well, let me tell you, hearing about how much your husband loves lying to you from Will and Benny was utter and complete shit! So, I thought I could let myself have a cigarette to help swallow that bitter pill. I knew you stashed some in the dashboard. But what did I find there? Not fucking cigarettes, Frankie! COKE? In the dashboard, really?! You've already had your damn piloting license revoked. Do you want to end up in jail on top of everything? Have you any clue what the cops would do if they caught you with this shit? Goddamn it, Frankie, how could you do this to me? How could you do this to Ella?"

Your voice quivers as you struggle to catch your breath. Years of bottled-up frustration and the pain of Frankie's betrayal finally overflow. Yet Frankie remains silent, avoiding your gaze and looking down at his own shoes in shame.

“FUCKING SAY SOMETHING” You roar as tears of anger start to fall down your face “You can’t just lie to me for weeks and hide cocaine in our home and not say anything!”

"Mi ciel..." Frankie softly starts, but you snap back, "Don't call me that, Frankie! You don’t have any right to call me that, especially not now!" The weight of your words hits Frankie, and his face fills with anguish.

"Please, you have to believe that I'm so damn sorry. I never meant for any of this. I wasn't going to take any of it, I fucking swear..." You scoff, cutting him off, "Oh, you swear? You've got cocaine in your goddamn boots, and you expect me to believe you weren't going to take any? Fuck, do you even have some on you now?" Swearing more than you’ve ever in your life, you realize you've unleashed a torrent of profanity that you can't seem to control. It's as if a dam has burst within you, and you're either unable or unwilling to stop it.

Frankie's silence hangs heavily in the air, his right-hand trembling with restless anxiety. A wave of numbing unease washes over you, and in a voice barely above a whisper, you manage to muster the words, "Frankie, do you have cocaine on you right now?" Frankie's hand, consumed by nerves, instinctively dives into his breast pocket, retrieving a small baggie. The tension in the room intensifies as he places it alongside the others on the table, its size and contents mirroring the rest.

Silence echoes in the room.

"Get out," you say with a stern voice.

"Wait, wait! I'm so damn sorry. I swear, I wasn't planning on touching any of it. It's just... knowing it's there, somehow it eases the pain that I can’t seem to get out of? But I promise you, I had no real intentions of actually using it. Please, please believe me!" Frankie pleads desperately, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anguish.

"Are you even hearing the words coming out of your own mouth? Maybe you can fool yourself, but you can't fool me. Not anymore. If it was just me, maybe I could brush it off, but I won't let Estrella be exposed to that" you say unwaveringly, though deep inside, the pain of seeing Frankie's face twisted with anguish and devastation pierces your heart. "And let me be crystal clear, Frankie. I don't owe you a damn thing! You're the one who lied, the one who got lost in that haze, the one who chose drugs over your own damn family. Not me. Well, guess what Frankie? I've hit my breaking point."

"Hermosa, please, I'm begging you from the depths of my soul. I promise to change, to become a better person. I'll go to therapy, find a sponsor—whatever it takes to make things right. Please, don't do this to us," Frankie pleads desperately, his voice filled with pain and heartache as if every word is a cry for salvation. “I can’t bear the thought of a life without you, of losing the love that has defined everything for so long. Please hermosa” Frankie’s voice cracks and almost makes you flinch in your resolve. But you steel yourself.

"Don't put the blame on me, Frankie. I've already given you all the support I could. I've respected your silence, comforted you through your nightmares, and endured being pushed away. I've watched you withdraw into yourself, and nothing I did or said seemed to make a difference! I thought that if you didn't want to talk to me, it would be better if you spoke with a professional. I've made efforts to get you into therapy, rescheduling appointments when you didn't like the therapist, and even searched for support groups for veterans in the city, despite knowing well that you've never attended any of them. I've been working double shifts since before Ella was born because you've been grounded. I've held this family together with every ounce of my strength. I've pushed and pushed, but now, Frankie, I'm exhausted. I can't push anymore. What I need from you now is to leave and help yourself," you explain, your voice laden with exhaustion.

"What about Ella? Are you going to deny me the chance to see my own daughter?" Frankie's voice quivers with a mixture of anguish and frustration, as he feels himself losing control. In his desperation, he resorts to lashing out, aware of the vulnerabilities he can exploit, quite like the skilled military man he is, used to exploiting weaknesses in an opponent's defences.

"I can't believe you would even ask me that," you reply, feeling hurt. Frankie avoids your eyes, his own filled with shame for his hurtful words. "I'm not a monster. Of course, you can see Ella. But deep down, we both know it would be better for her if her father were to take care of himself," you continue in a softer tone. "I've tried to heal for you, Frankie, but now I realize this isn't healthy. This is a step you need to take on your own. I'm tired, and I can't do this anymore."

"What the hell happened to 'for better or for worse'? You promised me we'd face any storm together, but the moment things get tough, you fucking disappear," Frankie's voice loudly fills the air.

Raising your gaze, you respond defensively "That's just not fair, and you know it." Letting out a heavy sigh, you gather the strength to continue, "Frankie, I've done everything I can to support you, but it's becoming painfully clear that my love and help have only pushed you deeper into whatever hell you are in right now. Damn it, maybe my mom was onto something. Maybe I am broken or completely unlovable. Maybe there's something wrong with me if my own husband can't trust his wife and turns to drugs instead." Tears well up as you wrap your arms around yourself, the weight of sobs stuck in your throat. The raw emotions in your voice make it clear that this pain cuts deep.

"No, no, no, Mi cielo, don't say that. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, fuck, I didn't mean any of it. I know you tried; I know you've been trying for so long. You are not unlovable; you are the most amazing woman in the world. I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, I am the one who has never deserved you. Fuck I can’t believe I would say that to you, how could I make you feel like that." Frankie's voice loses its strength.

"None of this is your fault; it's all on me. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll go and seek help, and I promise you, I'll become the man that both you and Ella deserve," Frankie's voice quivers with remorse as he slowly approaches you, his arms outstretched, seeking to bring you into a comforting embrace.

But you are unable to bear your husband’s touch just yet and so you raise one trembling hand while keeping the other tightly wrapped around yourself, motioning for him to halt. "No, please... I can't handle your touch right now. I... I know I'll flinch, and it's not what you need, what Ella needs," you express with a quiver in your voice, a delicate blend of vulnerability and unwavering determination. "I'll be at work tomorrow, from 8 am to 6 pm, and Mrs. Hu will be taking care of Ella. You can come and collect anything you need during that time."

Frankie's sobs grip him overwhelmingly, tears cascading down his face like a torrent, but he manages to muster a nod of acceptance before slowly making his way toward the door. Just as his trembling hand reaches for the doorknob, he pauses, his gaze locked with yours, his voice barely a whisper choked with emotion.

"I'm really, really sorry, Mi cielo. The pain I've caused you is too much, and I carry the weight of my mistakes like a heavy burden. I want you to know that I take full responsibility for hurting our relationship and our family. It's all my fault, and I can't even find the words to express how deeply I regret everything."

His voice trembles, revealing the desperation in his heart as he goes on, “But please, trust me when I tell you that I won't give up. I won't let cocaine define who I can be. I'll find a way, no matter how tough the road ahead, to mend the broken parts of myself. I'll seek the help and guidance I need to heal, to become the husband and father that both you and Ella deserve."

And with that, he gathers the strength to turn away. His footsteps gradually fade as he leaves the room, leaving behind the lingering echoes of what you hope is Frankie’s sincere promise.

As the door closes, you crumble to the ground, consumed by doubt, pain, and anxiety. The weight of your actions bears down heavily, suffocating any shred of certainty. Questions flood your mind: Have you betrayed the sacred promises of your marriage? The thought gnaws at your conscience, tormenting you relentlessly. Perhaps, if you had been more understanding, more accommodating, this heart-wrenching situation could have been prevented. The self-blame intensifies, distorting your sense of self-worth into a hollow mockery.

Frankie has barely been gone for a few seconds, and yet your heart screams to chase after him. The urge to fix what's broken, to salvage the crumbling remnants of your relationship, grips you with an iron fist. But amidst the chaos of emotions, a flicker of clarity emerges. This painful separation, as agonizing as it feels, is something you need. It's a painful necessity for your own well-being, for the sake of Ella, and for the survival of your fractured family.

Trembling with uncertainty, you repeat to yourself like a desperate mantra, "You need this. You need this." Each word echoes with a haunting mix of determination, fear, and hope, reminding you of the bitter truth that sometimes, the most agonizing path is the only way forward.

You find yourself repeating the words over and over again, the echoes resounding through the shattered fragments of your soul. It becomes a desperate mantra, a chant that reverberates within the hollow chambers of your being: "You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch. You can't flinch. You mustn't flinch." Each repetition, like a plea to yourself, carries the weight of your determination to stay strong, to withstand the emotional turmoil that engulfs you.

Exhaustion eventually overtakes you, guiding your weary steps towards yours and Frankie's bedroom – now yours alone for the foreseeable future. As you reach the edge of your bed, a profound emptiness permeates your soul, accentuating the hollow void within. A sight catches your attention: the green duvet carelessly tossed on the floor, a remnant of the hasty morning departure.

With a heavy sigh, you pick up the comforter, its fabric still carrying traces of Frankie's presence. Bringing it close to your face, you inhale deeply, drawing in his lingering scent, a bittersweet reminder of the love that once thrived in this room. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you cocoon your fragile frame, seeking solace in its familiar itchy warmth. The world around you fades away as you surrender to a dreamless slumber, where you hope to find some respite from the relentless ache in your heart.

Next Chapter

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cienie-isengardu · 4 months

Text

Cracked Mirror of Black, Cold Soul [Chapter 2]

Author notes: Continuation of this, formely posted just as "MK1 Fanfiction".

I'm writing it as Shang Tsung & Bi-Han's sort of friendship but if anyone like it as Bi-Han/Shang Tsung then that's great too. Also, nothing dark/graphic so far, but maybe in future I will go more into Shang Tsung's experiments, poverty and probably a bit depression. Just saying in advance as I'm aware my idea of "not graphic" may vary from other people's.

No enemy has come that day or another nor the next week. Shang Tsung fell back into his routine - studying, training, experimenting, once in a while getting the needed supplies, and then studying more, training more, creating more devious traps to apparently keep a certain cryomancer amused. The books and scrolls kept disappearing and showing up a few days later, even if he did not see Sub-Zero for weeks.

Sometimes there was a note attached to returned volumes. Usually short messages, about Li Mei’s search for him or General Shao’s impatience or a new bounty on their heads or to avoid a specific place at certain times. He read the notes, mesmerized its contents, then burned the paper to not leave any unnecessary loose ends if he ever was forced to abbadon the fortress in a hurry.

Sometimes the note said trivial things. Like under any circumstances do not eat those mushrooms you moron! - and indeed the mushrooms he found in a nearby field disappeared without a trace from his kitchen. Which was truly a shame, for if those truly were toxic he could at least study them to make a new poison or maybe even magic potion or two. More often than not though the message was clean up the mess! which did not amuse him at all. A bit of blood here and there and a misplaced organ or two and everyone was a critic these days. Like it was his fault the creative process at times got messy. No genius was even truly understood and in such moments he did miss Damashi, her kind hand on his back, the melodic voice encouraging him to transcend the boundaries of already possessed knowledge.

Sub-Zero sounded more like a mother hen than a deadly warrior and Shang Tsung for sure did not need anyone mothering him. He was a grown up man, he survived living in Outworld’s wild, uncaring hinterlands alone for hundredth of years, he did not need anyone’s help nor care. It was a matter of pride but also the bitter taste of betrayal that held him back from trusting anyone ever again.

He left his own notes then.

Stop fussing, I knew the mushrooms were poisonous, even though he had no idea, as he had never heard of poisonous mushrooms before. There were plenty of dangerous places in Outworld yet not many uneatable things to worry about. And sure, the fungus looked funny, with nice red caps and pretty white dots, like snow that embellished blood pool, which was specifically a reason why he picked it up in the first place. But why should he not, if the island was part of the Edenia realm and the mainland not so far away? The climatic zone was correct, the ruins were covered with Edenian letters even if the words made little sense to him. As far as he managed to check, he did not find any unusual plants here, no new animal species. Up to this moment, he had no reason to worry about flora and fauna surrounding him as nothing stood out… well, maybe beside the one white pigeon that so eagerly cooed at the sight of him and as it turned out, the funny mushrooms he found by accident and collected on impulse. The sense of danger did not cross his mind and if not Sub-Zero’s warning, he would eat the mushrooms soon. Maybe the edenian blood would neutralize the toxins that Earthrealmer was so concerned about, or maybe not. Now, he had no means to test it one way or another. Begrudgingly he accepted that Lin Kuei potentially saved, if not his life from food poisoning then at least his dignity, but the man did not need to know that.

The note disappeared the day he wrote it, alongside a few scrolls. A week later the paper showed up in the same spot with additional DID YOU?, and even the carefully calligraphed few edenian letters sneered at him mockingly. The rush of blood burned his cheeks and he did not need the mirror to know how red his face was. Out of anger, pure anger, not embarrassment, he told himself firmly while the note turned into ash in his hand. He wanted to burn much more and he would do so, if not the book on which note was left.

Shang Tsung stared at the thick book with a deeply red cover, pondering whether he should open it and bear the reason why the annoying Earthrealm left it there or just fed the flames of hearth with that blasted thing. It didn't matter what was inside the book, only how to not lose the weird game they played for weeks, with no rules and no clear idea who was actually winning. Losing never sat well with him and yet he couldn’t help himself than take a chance, any chance, to prove how better, smarter he was compared to others. And Sub-Zero clearly was exploiting that weakness, slowly and deliberately with each little note, each little sharp remark and additional subtext hidden in black ink, in elegant shape of letter.

The man mocked him and challenged and Shang Tsung loved that game and cursed it in the same breath. The island was a wonderful sanctuary as much as a lonely, dark place and Sub-Zero, whatever the man knew or not, brought so needed entertainment to keep the sorcerer from going mad. Not that Shang Tsung would ever admit that aloud but fact remained a fact, whether he liked it or not.

The book was definitely not made in Outworld. It was not even a matter of unfamiliar letters but the whole texture of deeply red cover and snowy-white pages inside. Once opened, it smelled of ink but not like the yellowed, hand-written books did. To his own surprise, the smell reminded him of freshness, something new and still unspoiled, so it couldn’t be a second-handed volume either. This pleased him, more than it should. Before Damashi walked into his life, he rarely could afford to buy good quality items; the tailored robes and beautifully illustrated books were always out of his reach. How many times he stared at the richness of colors, how many times inhaled the storm of unique, unknown smells when he passed the small town’s market only to turn away from each stall? When a person needed to choose between food or new shoes for he could afford only one, it was no choice at all. The basic needs always processed anything frivolous, for luxury was nothing more than just a sweet dream to lull the poorest to sleep and torment them by day.

Shang Tsung now had the money and means to spoil himself with the best; the finest food and sweetest wine, the most soft fabrics and tailored robes, the expansive magic ingredients he dreamed of having as a child. So of course fate spit into his face, as now the gold meant nothing. Only the power he held mattered. The same power now threatened by Fire Lord and Empress Mileena and even by his maybe-still-maybe-not allies.

A warmth spread through his cold, bitter soul at the mere thought the book was brand new and brought specially for him. Even if Sub-Zero did so only to scoff at him, to mock, he still went with the finest gift and not some rubbish. The gesture touched him, surprisingly deeply. Not many people these days bothered to spoil him a bit here and there.

Encouraged by the treacherous feeling, he opened the book on the first page and slowly started examining its content. He couldn’t read it though, as Damashi taught him only how to speak Earthrealm’s most common languages - the one similar to Edenian and the so-called English that tasted weird on his tongue whenever he was forced to use it. Damashi promised soon it would be irrelevant knowledge anyway, so he did not bother learning the unfamiliar letters. Like all other promises of hers, this one too turned out to be a false prophecy. With each passing day, the choking realization hurt a bit less. Each passing day also proved how much she witholded and weakened him on purpose, how much he needed to learn all those supposedly meaningless little things anyway.

Looking back, how he admired the mysterious woman, how he desired her praise and smile, was such a laughable memory. What an ally she turned out to be! And yet, Damashi taught him everything he knew about true magic and above all else, the final lesson will forever stay with him: to never trust anyone, especially those kind to him.

But… Sub-Zero wasn’t necessarily nice to him and he took as much as he gave, considering the rate at which books and precious scrolls disappeared all the time. There was no promise of great power, no sweet praise to make Shang Tsung starve for more attention. The man barely interacted with him in person, more interested in knowledge hidden between yellow pages than what Shang Tsung could do for him. A fair deal, a secret for secret, as apparently Sub-Zero liked to collect those, even the most trivial ones and he did bring a lot of important news to the sorcerer in exchange.

It wasn’t a kindness, Shang Tsung hummed to himself, just the fairest deal he ever made.

And who could know where this little deal will take them in future? Honestly has never been his forte while Lin Kuei Grandmaster was as straightforward as a killer could be anyway. And yet so far they balanced well between a little sweet lie here and brutal truth there. No matter how many times he asked, Sub-Zero did not reveal how he found the island nor how he got in and out of there, the same as Shang Tsung never spoke about his experiments done in the laboratory. They just accepted the unspoken agreement as it was, for now at least, and he cherished the weird comfort of having someone around while also not being directly questioned with the endless list of why, when, if.

The book felt heavy in his hand - heavier than it had right to be for with offered knowledge came a pitiful hope.

Maybe Sub-Zero could, if not outright teach, then at least help him to learn Earthrealm letters… if the words found a way to slip through the tight throat and clenched teeth. Asking for help was, in his experience, a sign of weakness he couldn’t afford. Yet he couldn’t afford to stay ignorant either, and the beautiful book held in hands tempted with promises of great knowledge - if he could read it.

Not for the first time he wondered why Sub-Zero wrote all the little notes left for Shang Tsung in the sorcerer’s own language. After the first time seeing the familiar letters of his native dialect in elegant yet unknown handwriting, he figured out that Lin Kuei already checked out his background and gathered all that was out there to learn from; to steal secrets and maybe even blackmail him if needed. Shang Tsung was not concerned about it, as there was not much to collect. A pitiful life of a lone salesman left little to remember about in the minds of common folks. Even if Lin Kuei managed to track down his former clients, those naive, desperate fools from all Outworld hinterlands, all they would learn was the obvious truth: the old-him was a fraud, a cheater, a loser never loved or missed even by his own folks.

Lin Kuei could learn more from his time at Sindel’s court, however Empress Mileena waged war on them. Not that it stopped Sub-Zero and his men from slipping into capitol, in her own palace, but some secrets still were out of their reach, at least for now.

The only question left was if Sub-Zero knew the sorcerer couldn’t read Earthrealm’s letters and indulge Shang Tsung out of pragmatism? Or was that matter of courtesy, some good manners that mattered to Grandmaster enough to bother? The sorcerer did not like the uncertainty but he couldn’t ask, not yet, for asking meant admitting great lacking in his worldly education. Even worse, admitting the Lin Kuei Grandmaster - anyone - was better than him, and it didn’t matter how trivial such superiority was.

Shang Tsung could bear Royal Family and Liu Kang’s Champions mockery and hate without blinking an eye, but he would faster swallow his own tongue than allow his maybe-maybe-not ally to think he was the lesser one in their partnership.

But why Grandmaster didn’t just write the next messages in English or any other Earthrealm’s language to test Shang Tsung and then to mock his illiteracy? Why not push and push, until he couldn’t lie anymore and needed to admit defeat? Why did the man spared him the humiliation when even his own, godly-self had no mercy?

It was the riddle that bothered Shang Tsung the most. Not the uncertainty itself, but faint yet no less warm hope that, despite bitter memories, filled his cold, black soul.

Kindness was a dangerous, treachery tool that could hurt much more than open mockery. He did not want to feel that pain ever again. And yet, like a fool he was, Shang Tsung craved it more than the finest food or wine. To be acknowledged as something more than just a pitiful, poor copy of another, greater sorcerer - to be treated like his own entity worth someone’s time and effort.

He craved it and how could he not, when the book, though definitely of Earthrealm origin, didn’t feel like a cruel joke?

Yes, he could not read it, as the letters were unfamiliar, but there was a mark in each corner and, as he guessed, the skull placed there meant he was not allowed to eat the mushroom present on the page. Yes, he could not learn the secrets hidden between letters, but each page had its own stunning illustration. The pictures were so realistic, like he was looking at mushrooms just found in the forest or an open field. He had no idea what magic it was, but the illustrations were so gorgeous and bright with colors he had never seen in any Outworld book before. It needed to be magic, for those couldn’t be drawn, as the texture of the paper was... slippery under his fingers, but in a nice way.

The book was only about mushrooms, and yet each new page made his blood rush faster through the veins, heart beating strongly. When did he feel so good holding a book last time? He could not remember.

(A lie. He did remember. It was the same excitement he felt when Damashi for the first time showed him an old volume about elements to explain what magic is, how to draw it from the world around. It was also the first time she mentioned cryomancers, that they were real people and not some demons from old, almost forgotten legends. When he asked, intimidated by his own boldness, if he would have a chance to meet any, Damashi laughed, a sparkling laugh full of approval that he fell head over heels in love with. She promised he will, soon, and it was one of few promises she kept.)

Somehow halfway through the book, the red capped, speckled with white dots mushroom proudly showed up on page. Oh, he knew that one pretty well now, even if he had no idea how Earthrealm’s fungus got so far away from its native environment... But that thought faded right away, as the thing that held all his attention now was a small note stuck to the paper under the illustration. The elegant, familiar letter said ARE YOU STILL MAD?

Yes, he wanted to say, to write it back on paper and stick to their usual place for notes. But the treacherous chuckle broke free before he could do any of it. To know how well Sub-Zero knew him despite barely talking to each other should freeze his blood. Yet all he felt was the weird warmness. Cryomancer should not make one feel cozy, not when a mere hour ago the bastard mockingly questioned his knowledge.

Was that… apology?

No, it didn’t feel like that. For apology meant regretting and he still wasn’t sure if the man was capable of feeling guilt. Anger? Yes. Excitement at a challenge? Definitely. Regrets? Even if so, Shang Tsung did not notice that and he was usually good at exploiting such weakness in people around him.

Maybe it was just cryomancer’s way to… well, Shang Tsung had no idea. It made him feel better though. So no, he was not mad anymore even if he probably should be at least annoyed.

He knew though from on, whenever he would see the red-capped mushroom, he would always think about this book, the little note and one cryomancer that made him laugh despite himself.

The little skull in the corner stared at him all-knowing. Thoughtlessly, he touched it with his finger, enjoying the cold, slippery feeling of paper. He liked skulls, always had. Maybe he should figure out how to reshape his magic blasts to resemble the skulls? Wouldn’t that be something unique, just his and only his?

Suddenly, the book was a thousand ways better than it was already. What else could Earthrealm offer him? What secrets and inspiration was there to seek and use for his gain?

He grinned, all sharp teeths and gleam in eye. Maybe, if he played their little game well or bargained enough, Sub-Zero could bring him a similar quality atlas but for Earthrealmers’ anatomy? All he needed was the stunning, colorful illustrations and for sure he could figure out everything else on his own. He always wanted to study their enemy’s anatomy but sadly Liu Kang’s pets ran away and trashed his laboratory along the way.

“Are you again thinking about murdering Liu Kang’s Champions?”

If there was one thing about Sub-Zero that annoyed Shang Tsung more than the man’s cold, rude way of speaking, it was the Lin Kuei habit of sneaking on him. It wasn’t annoying just because Sub-Zero caught him doing things that spoil his carefully cultivated image of a devious and powerful sorcerer - like smiling because of book he can’t even read or returning to fortress all wet and miserable when catched by heavy rain or his not best morning moments when disheveled and still sleepy he wanders through the corridors. No, the worst part was how easily the man walked the shadows, like the darkness was his to command.

There was something terrible off about that, even if he couldn’t point down why.

“Maybe” Shang Tsung answered with a bright smile plastered on his face. No reason in admitting to the man how correctly he read his thoughts. Small victory was still a victory and if he was not the winner, he did not like it at all.

Sub-Zero’s left eyebrow rose up, but the man did not comment nor asked about the book in the sorcerer's hands. So their little correspondence about a deadly mushroom was a closed up matter and not worth dwelling on. For now.

Since he rarely had a chance to see his maybe-yes-maybe-not ally these days, Shang Tsung looked him over from head to toe. The man had no visible new scars, nothing to indicate an injury or that he was in any fight at all - even if the sorcerer knew from others that Sub-Zero’s brothers, those pathetic idealists, looked out for him and hunted Lin Kuei like mad dogs. So far to no avail, what pleased him greatly. Cryomancer was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and his foolish brothers still did not figure out who had an upper hand in that strife.

What however didn’t please Shang Tsung, was the bag on the cryomancer’s back. Full of his books. He knew the man was borrowing his precious volumes from the first day Sub-Zero showed up in his new home, but to see him actually taking out the entire stack at once? That was something new.

The saddest thing about the books collected here was their amount. As much as Shang Tsung hated to admit it, for months he barely managed to look through the shelves in his laboratory and there were more rooms, bigger rooms, from the floor to the ceiling, from one wall to another filled with books and scrolls. He had no idea what Sub-Zero was carrying in his bag this time, and even less what the man appropriated already. There was no point in pretending otherwise, as both knew well there were too many books to keep a track on all of them. A truly bothersome problem that cryomancer exploited without a grain of regret.

Like always, the bastard ignored his outraged face, then adjusted his bag and walked away without even saying a goodbye or fuck you. The nerve of this man knew no bounds.

“If you have time to steal my precious books then you could at least bring me something nice to eat!”, he shouted after the man before Sub-Zero disappeared in the shadows enveloping the cold corridor. Not because it could change anything but to have at least the last word.

Out of the darkness flew something small. He catched it without thinking, all reflex and curiosity. It was an apple, red and fresh, definitely not plucked from a tree on the island. Cold to the touch but not cold enough to frostbite his fingers.

On one side bitten.

He should be mad at Sub-Zero, and yet the laugh filled his lungs. Well, at least the bastard did not ignore him completely.

It was indeed a great progress.

(In the deepest part of the soul, where bitterness lingered like venom, Damashi’s voice mocked him how weak he was, how needy to cling to cold, uncaring Sub-Zero. How stupid to think anyone could bother to deal with him out of sympathy and not to use him like the pitiful tool he was. How despite everything, Shang Tsung learned nothing.

The bitterness choked him whenever he read left by Lin Kuei Grandmaster notes, whenever the man warned him about danger awaiting beyond the island’s boundaries or complained about the mess, even now, when the beautiful, deeply red covered book weighed in his hands. It was hard to ignore Damashi’s voice when it sounded like his own. But a snake should not choke on its own venom, shouldn’t he?)

Author notes#2:

Like the last time, it is mainly my character study of Shang Tsung and I'm on purpose not writing him how I would normally write one from previous timelines. I enjoy to explore how Damashi and her betrayal had a great impact on him. He is the "in progress" version, not yet the savvy, brilliant sorcerer but trying hard to be seen like that. Bi-Han so far is there mainly for the books XD

I also like to imagine there is some connection between Edenian language and one of Chinese dialect, while English and its letters is totally something new for Shang Tsung. Just solely to avoid everyone speak the same language despite living in different realms. Lin Kuei were taught Outworld language(s) so they could do the dirty job better. Hopefully I did not bore you too much.

This part was about the mushroom note. Next one should be about the mess called Shang Tsung's laboratory :)

#mortal kombat #bi han & shang tsung #shang tsung #bi han #sub zero #cienie's fanfics #Cracked Mirror of Black Cold Soul #character study of one messed up sorcerer #bi han so far is there mainly for the books XDDD

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