#but he fails to resist just for a moment and now he's lost everything | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lvlyghost · 9 months

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I love your stories so much I can't 😫😍😍❤️

Could you maybe write a angst to fluff ghost x reader story where the reader gets injured badly while ghost is on her side the whole time in the hospital while she is unconscious and he's having breakdowns and anxiety and all really angsty stuff and when she wakes up she comforts him and all is fluffy and maybe a bit smutty 🤭

No More Stars Left to Count

PAIRINGS: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: Few things made Simon break down. Almost losing his girl takes a toll on him.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

TW: Smut! MDNI! Angst, hurt, comfort. Injuries. Panic attacks. Grammar mistakes just the usual... Do not read if you're under 18.

A/N: I'm actually quite happy with this one🥹🩷 Enjoy Anon! This is my first time posting smut and in another language so sorry in advance if there are mistakes! Corrections are appreciated ✨🐝

Masterlist✨

Simon's head rests on his left hand, his eyes bore into your fragile body. Several machines are attached to you, helping you breathe, pumping meds into your system. He doesn't deserve you by any means. He doesn't deserve your trust, your laughter, your body.

All he can think about— as his brown orbs can't find the strength to look away— is how miserably he had failed to protect his team. To protect you. It's been twelve days and you still don't show any signs of waking up; it wasn't abnormal for you to not wake up. The damage inflicted to your body had been great. Simon thought for a painful moment he had lost you for good. The woman he cared for. The woman he utterly loved.

He swallows hard.

There aren't many things that'd scare him. He's simply seen too much. But this? Was this truly his destiny? To lose everyone he loved? His family and now you?

He inhales sharply, his free hands traces your inert hand, tracing soft patterns on your pale skin littered with cuts and bruises. That very hand he adores to hold when you were together. He blinks, memories from your last night together flooding his brain as he sinks further down the chair, adjusting the hoodie over his head.

The night before leaving for the mission in Romania.

"No, wait look Simon! Give it to me!" You chuckle, under the covers, both of your bodies remain warm. It wasn't unusual that Simon couldn't sleep so he'd often come into your room and spend the night with you. "There." You pointed out. Your hand and his hand stretched out in front of you, slowly you touch his, spreading out your palms comparing hands. Your eyelashes flutter at the mere sight of his big calloused hand outsize yours, completely engulfing it. You splay out your fingers until they're intertwined.

His breath catches in his throat. He loved how small you were compared to him. He wanted to protect you from everything even from himself, but you had refused to leave him when he tried to push you away.

"Come here." He grabs your arm pining you down and under his gargantuan body. You squeal, laughing at the sudden change of position; Simon sets his body between your legs. Your arms rest on his sides, layers of muscle tensing under your touch. Tilting your head back, eyes meet the dark sky outside the window.

"Look at them." You mumble, Simon lays a kiss on your neck taking advantage. He loves the feeling of your steady pulse on his lips. "The stars are so bright tonight." He hums absentmindedly, hands coming to grip his blond locks.

There's a fire burning in your belly and the ache between your thighs when you feel the tent forming through his grey sweatpants.

"Need you, love." He grumbles. His hands undress your bottom half making you gasp.

"Simon..." soft pink lips kiss your body. Your chest, your stomach... until he's lost between your legs. Mouth lapping at your wetness. You squirm under his touch, it's intoxicating. It feels like you might combust. The fire running through your veins, the goosebumps on your sensitive flesh as you clench around nothing. Unable to resist it you grab him by the arms. "You know what I need." In the blink of an eye two bodies intertwined moving desperately chasing the sweetest end together. He murmurs soft encouraging words in your ear that sent shockwaves through your veins, Simon couldn't possibly be more deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you want to scream, nails digging on his back, surely leaving red marks that he would proudly show tomorrow.

The purple and orange that tinges the sky outside filters through the window, casting an ethereal display of colors around this room that hides away the few moments you get to spend with him as you finish together; feeling impossibly more in love with him.

"It's clearing already." You point out. Simon looks up from your eyes, albeit reluctant to miss the beautiful shade of your orbs. "No more stars left..."

He kisses your forehead, then bumps his nose against you before he finds your mouth.

"There'll be plenty more to count tomorrow, sweetheart. I promise."

But you're not counting them as he promised the night before. Instead he's shouting orders like an enraged man. Heart beating out of his chest, you were so close to the evac point with your squad. Five minutes ago he had squeezed your arm and kissed your temple before urging you to get in the land rover from the SAS. Only to watch it blow seconds later. His heart stopped and then the ringing in his eardrums.

It was an ambush.

And as the rest covered him he rushed to you.

The blood. Crimson blood all over the bodies. He knew what this meant.

"Sergeant!" He forces his body to move, dragging you by the straps of your combat vest to take cover behind one of the vehicles. He knows he shouldn't be moving you like that, but right now he can't think of anything else than getting you out of there... "Bloody fucking hell!" He roars.

What was that feeling, like his soul was being ripped apart...?

Releasing a shaky breath, Simon squeezes your hand once again careful not to hurt you. The IV in your hand too foreign. It's too much. The sight, the memories of the vehicle flying through the sky...

The pit in his stomach grows, a wave of nausea and uneasiness hitting him all of the sudden. Simon stands on wobbly legs, taking one last glance at you he steps out the ICU. Crouching down he yanks the balaclava from his face. Why was his chest so tight, and his vision filled with blackness? The incessant ring on his ears is real. Fucking real. It was supposed to be a nightmare... this thing pulling him down.

"Come back to me baby." He pleads in a hushed tone although he knows you can't hear him. Simon lifts his hands to find support on the wall in front of him. He breathes as much air as he can through his nose, tries to blink away the black dots.

"Lieutenant Riley?" A feminine voice wafts through the empty hallway reaching him. He holds out a shaky finger without even looking at her.

"Leave..." he warns.

"Sir? I...-" the nurse hesitates.

"Now!" He barks.

She scurries away but not before calling the doctors and the Captain to the med wing.

Simon stays there until his ragged breathing evens, he then goes back to your room, deep down he hopes—prays— that your eyes will open when you hear him. But you don't. He sits again on the couch where he's tried to sleep, tossing the mask away from him. His throat bobs, what's happening to him? It burns. The door creaks open revealing a concerned John who looks at him in disapproval.

"This isn't going to help anyone Simon." He scolds him.

"What do you want Price?"

"You need to sleep. And for... just for the love of God eat something son."

"Not until I know she'll be fine."

Price sighs closing the door behind him.

"She wouldn't want this." Even then, Price doesn't want to look at you. This had taken a toll on everyone. But Simon wasn't handling it well. Rubbing his eyes he scoffs. "Come on go get some rest I can stay."

"No." Both men stare at each other not wanting to back down. "I'm on leave you don't get to tell me what to do Price."

John crosses his arm.

"I'm worried Simon. I want her to be okay too. We all do."

Simon's jaw clenched, hands balling into fists. They don't really know. They don't know, can't comprehend the extent of his love for you.

"What if this was your girl? Would you leave her fucking side hm?"

A tense pause electrifies the air as the two glare at each other, oblivious to the other person whose eyes are tearing.

The beeping sound increases as your heart rate goes up. Two pair of eyes snap to the sound. Your hand tries to snatch the oxygen from your face, but Simon darts out with dread plastered all over his features. You faintly hear John calling the doctors.

"Easy, love. Easy..." he soothes you. Stopping your hands from moving. Your body is in too much pain, tears slip down your cheeks, once again Simon grits his teeth. If he could he'd take it all away. "Don't force yourself you're..." he trails off. "You're hurt."

It feels like you're body is being torn apart. The drugs are slowly leaving your system.

"What happened?" your croak out, throat dry and inflamed. He sits bringing the glass of water to your lips not before removing for a brief moment the oxygen mask. You take a small sip and thank him with a weak smile.

"Ambush." He explains. Hating that he can see the images all over again in the back of his mind. "Thought I lost you."

More tears well in your eyes, as weak as you feel you reach out your hands tracing his jawline and cheekbone. He closes his eyes, and finally breathes again, with you touching him he feels alive again. He wants nothing more than to go home with you.

"How many nights..."

"Twelve..."

The doctors rush in but before they drag him away you say:

"That's a lot of counting we've missed."

A press of his lips on your forehead, a silent promise to never let anything happen to you ever again. Even if it mean giving his own life for yours. He would do it any day. Better him than you.

"We've got the rest of our lives, love."

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kuromhiel · 1 year

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BSD MEN PLAYING HORROR GAMES (MIMIC)

Headcanons!

↣Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nakajima Atsushi, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Doppo Kunikida, Edogawa Ranpo, Nikolai Gogol, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Tetcho Suehiro, Saigiku Jono

↝Requests are open!

Osamu Dazai

> He would definetly be confident. You'd go up to him and be like: 'Samu let's play Mimic!

> He never heard of that game but he's hella interested.

> Both of you started playing and then he gets lost the moment you appear.

> Don't tell me this guy does not kill himself everytime.

> Definetly screams when there are jumpscares and would freeze for a second so you laugh at him

> Surprisingly good at the game and finishes it. (When he doesn't waste half of his time dying.)

Chuuya Nakahara

> Horror game? LET'S GO!

> Regrets it instantly because he forgot there are jumpscares.

> Would definetly flinch so hard and say "What? I'm not scared."

> When you scream, he screams.

> He'd be the type to disappear and get lost and you're just looking for him everywhere.

> He'd be the type to see something and say "I found the exit!" And it was actually the entrance..

> He'd curse at the character that'll jumpscare him.

> Shhh, he's a rage quiter.

Atsushi Nakajima

> MY BABYYYYY<3

> Once you tell him you want to play a horror game with him, he'd instantly freeze and hesitate before accepting.

> It's you, of course he'd agree.

> Poor guy would be shaking once there are crazy ahh sound effects.

> Horrified, one loud sound, one scream, one jumpscare, he'd flinch immediately.

> Bros the type to throw his phone/himself across the room.

> Actually really good at mazes! Just starts panicking when something chases him HELP.

> Never will play again.

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

> Bro thinks he's so good at it.

> You tell him you want to play and he just says "ok."

> Bro is secretly scared but the whole time you look at him he's just •_•

> Those jumpscares out of nowhere makes his eyes widen or he makes a small little sound and when you look at him he accidentally actives Rashomon-

> I feel like he'd say he knows the way and gets lost and get jumpscared.

> Bro doesn't run and you just tell him to use the running button, and he's just like "no."

> Bro wants to solo and leaves you alone and you're like: "Ryuu where are you??" "I found a spirit."

> Doesn't want to play ever again.

Kunikida Doppo

> Automatically will not play once you do all your reports.

> Says he's too busy for those childhood games but he can't resist you so he fits the gameplay in his schedule!

> Does this dude even get jumpscared..?

> The whole time he's just instructing you in what to do-

> He's good at making ways to escape and distracts the ghost for you.

> If you play with him repeatedly and have game nights he'd definetly memorize when the jumpscare will happen.

Ranpo Edogawa

> Bro...Once you ask him you already see the place set up for your gameplay.

> One word: You'll finish the game in a few minutes only.

> He knows every crook and crany around the game.

> Knows the whole backstory and tells you about it so you just shut him up with candy.

> You play by yourself now because he knows everything and spoils the fun. RIP..

Nikolai Gogol

> He'd definetly be interested in the game.

> He'll be the type to scare you if it's suddenly quiet and you slap the shit out of him on accident.

> Would throw the phone at your face when he gets jumpscared.

> Bro is the type to play hide and seek with you mid-game.

> He'd definetly die a ton of times while trying to show you how he can "dodge" the ghost's attack/running at him.

> He fails misreably..

> He'd be the type to have the ghost chase after him and go to you so you both end up dying and go back to square 1.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

> You force him to play because he has no comment about it all.

> Jumpscares happen and he's just, •_•

> He'd be the type to find everything in just a few minutes and you'd be so confused like ???

> You'd give him the side eye for being to quiet while playing the game. You're screaming and flinching meanwhile he passes everything so quickly.

> He'd be the type to let you follow.

> Like did he play this game before???

> If you're too scared to go through a maze or get something, he'd be the one to distract the enemy

> Scary smart man...

Tetcho Suehiro

> Bro is hella confused. Like what are you supposed to do in the horror game??

> He'd definetly scream and just stare at you for a few moments..

> Help this poor man, he'd definetly quit mid game and just let you play it by yourself while you're watching.

> You'd definetly scream and it'll make him alerted.

> You both decide to restart the game and he thinks that he can kill the ghost and eventually dies..

> Please teach him the basic of horror games.

Jono Saigiku

> So like...

> Okay but he can hear things well so he eventually just listens to you while you play.

> Don't hurt his ear drums you might hit ariana grande notes while getting jumpscared or chased.

> He'd be the type to know when the ghost is approaching and warn you, he has good sense of hearing of course.

> That's why you're like ??? "How did you know when the ghost will come :O"

> He can literally hear one milisecond of the starting of the chasing music and you'd already be hiding.

> Man is a life saver.

> He'd definetly stare at you like ^^ if you apologize for screaming.

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ghostkinnie · 1 year

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COD BOYS WHEN YOU DIE IN THEIR ARMS

pairing: ghost, soap, price, könig, alejandro and graves.

warnings: angst, mentions of death and blood, gender neutral y/n.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

- Simon was an empty shell for a long time until you came along and showed him what it was like to live again. You turned his life upside down and taught him what love was.

- But there you were now. Bleeding in his arms for a bullet coming from a sniper that he didn't find and didn't kill. He had failed.

- The only thing keeping Ghost sane and human was now dying in his arms and becoming cold as ice.

- And there was nothing he could do to save you. Once again he would lose everyone he loves because he was unable to protect. He had believed in happiness but it was taken from him again.

- " Please... Please Y/N don't leave me. Open your eyes. Please...Don't leave me alone...."

- But there was nothing else to do. You were dead and Simon went back to being a broken, empty shell. A ghost that would wander in solitude.

●●●

JOHNNY "SOAP" MACTAVISH

- You are Johnny's sunshine even though he is a contagious explosion. You were everything that made this man smile.

- You "were" as you now hung lifeless in his arms. He had arrived too late.

- And for not arriving sooner now he had the love of his life dead in a pool of blood. He would never forget. He would never forgive himself.

- He would brush your hair out of your face and stroke your cheek one last time as desperate sobs wriggled out of him.

- "Love? Please love answer me...! Y/N breathe.!"

- He would scream and just leave your side when Ghost or Price dragged him.

●●●

CAPTAIN JOHN "PRICE"

- Losing a soldier has always been difficult for Price. He is the captain and responsible for the lives of his men.

- But in the end he always had to move on.. but not this time. Not when the shot hit the only person he lived and died for; you.

- "Baby?! Call the fucking doctors now!...Little one I'm here now I've got you."

- But it didn't matter how quickly the doctors arrived or how much he called your name. There was a lot of blood and you were already choking on it.

- Price would beg you to resist but he knew. He knew you were gone and taken a part of him with you; his happiness.

●●●

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

- Alejandro is a romantic man and in the moment the two of you got into a relationship he knew you would take over his mind. There was only you for him.

- He would die for you and he always told you that. But what he didn't know is you who would do it throwing yourself in front of him to receive a stab.

- The knife would still be stuck in your belly when he grabbed you and looked at you in complete despair. He had never been so afraid.

- He would scream for doctors, carry you, kiss your bloodied hands and be by your side every final second.

- But being by your side wasn't enough to save you. And the scene of your last breaths would haunt him forever.

- ¿Mi amor? Por favor...Talk to me.."

●●●

KÖNIG

- You were the most precious thing in König's life. Everything that kept him stable and close to complete happiness. You were his life.

- And he was a boy so lost in love that he believed you two would be happily ever after. He really wanted this.

- But all of König's dreams of you were shattered when a gunshot rang out and a bloodstain formed on your chest.

- That was it. Nothing could be done. You were dying and König could just scream and hug your body so tightly it could break bones. He was so scared.

- Liebe? Mein Leben?...Bitte.. Wake up wake up wake up.. WAKE UP!"

- Panic fills his body and he knows that after that day he would be a broken man.

●●●

PHILLIP GRAVES

- Graves met you during missions of the 141. You were a bomb of energy and transformed his life into pure joy. He was lost in you.

- It happened during the betrayal. He intended to take you with him and keep you by his side no matter what.

- But one of his shadows ended up shooting you. And the only thing Graves could see was your body collapsing lifelessly to the floor. What was the point of living if the love of his life was dead?

- A scream of pure pain escaped his lips and he rushed to drag his body to safety. But it was no use. You were no longer breathing.

- I'm sorry! I'm sorry it's my fault! It's all my fault please...Please don't die!"

- But you were already dead and it was his fault.

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thosewildcharms · 2 months

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i'll be thinking about 1x04 for the rest of my life probably, but currently i'm thinking about how genius it was that instead of the episode being about convincing rick to fight the CRM, as I originally thought it would be, it ended up being a battle to bring rick himself back to life. it's both rick and michonne fighting to revive a dead man who is doing anything he can to stay dead.

the show had already established that rick metaphorically killed himself and made okafor's mission his own instead of committing suicide and that from the moment she arrived he went into panic mode and was doing everything he could do put himself between her and the many threats aimed at her. like, we knew all of that going in.

and then this episode blows that wide open in the first, what, ten minutes? the CRM thinks they're dead. they can leave. and still, rick clings to okafor's mission. and in the hands of lesser writers, in the hands of any other production team who did not understand these characters as profoundly as danai and andy understand them, that's where it would have ended. rick would have genuinely been fully brainwashed and have been coming from a place of misplaced egotism, and they'd be having a very different fight. it would be rick insisting he had to fight the crm alone and michonne arguing that they can fight them together with nothing deeper than that going on.

but of course that's not it, because that's not rick grimes, and this is danai gurira's pen. he's not brainwashed, he's broken. he's so deeply and profoundly traumatized that clinging to this mission as a way of maintaining his own metaphorical death has become the last and strongest wall of his self-defense mechanism. and he spends the whole episode desperately trying to keep that wall up, and failing.

when he sees michonne's scar, he immediately looks for the PRB. because the physical proof of how much danger she will always be in reminds him of how much he can no longer bear to witness it. when michonne tells him about RJ, he asks her to give him the PRB and when he learns that RJ calls himself Little Brave Man, he doubles down on okafor's plan. because he can never lose another child (the way he lost carl twice) if he never knows or meets him in the first place. when michonne blows up about how scared and guilty she feels about not being with their kids he goes completely cold and blank and tells her to go back home. because if they're all out of sight and together they'll always be alive in his mind. because he's already dead, but they don't have to be. he becomes truly recognizable to michonne, to remain unmoved in the face of her pain like that.

and yet. he lasts about ten seconds before sprinting after when she leaves the room. he fusses over her when she can't stop coughing and refuses to leave her side when she's in danger. several times michonne checks in, to see if her rick is still there ("do you still love me?" "I just needed to hear you say it") and confirms that yes, he is. he's emphatic that he has never stopped loving her and never will, that she never has to thank him ever, for saving her life or for anything else. over and over, his love for her wins out even though he's trying so hard to keep that wall up. to remain dead so she will leave and keep living. he's trying to convince both her and himself that he's already gone, but always breaks at the last minute because the immediacy of seeing her right in front of him is more powerful than his own fear. tries to shut himself down, can't resist her, rinse and repeat.

and god, michonne. i've been yammering about the intensity of rick's love for michonne for weeks now, but michonne has done nothing but prove that she's right there with him, if not more. to reveal that rick is the only person who has ever made her feel safe, only to have him continually reject her and be a stone wall against her anger and pain and fear and confusion was so fucking heartbreaking to watch, and still she spends the whole episode banging and scratching and tearing at that wall around him, begging to understand why he's lying to her, why he's being so antithetical to the man she loves. and once she figures out that there's something else going on, that the rick she loves is undoubtedly still in there, she knows exactly what to do to save him. she forces him to say how much he loves her, how much he can't bear to actually let her leave him, so both of them can hear it and then reminds him of how he loves her. this woman spent a decade alone, afraid, raising their kids and facing horrible trauma herself, almost dies trying to find her husband only to meet a stranger once she does, and still does not give up on him. fucking incredible.

i said in a previous post that the only thing that could keep rick grimes from doing anything to get back to his family is a threat to their lives. and it's still true - his grief and trauma is so profound that even the nebulous threat of losing them is so horrifically terrifying to him that he's refusing to go home to them, keeping himself dead to protect himself from their possible deaths. but ultimately, michonne's love for him is even stronger than that. it took almost a decade for the CRM to break him, and michonne brings him back in a day. because the love they have for each other is more powerful than anything. as she says, it can't be denied.

it's honestly the most romantic hour of television i've ever watched. there's so much more that i can say that i haven't even touched on here, and i'm sure i'll be thinking about it for a very long time.

#richonne #the ones who live #i think it goes without saying that danai and andy's performances are fucking insane as well.#twd

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marleysfinest · 6 months

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reiner on the brain don't mind me. I blame/thank @whatthefucksatan for the inspo

just clingy reiner x fem reader smut idk how else to put it. not proofread! just horny!

cw extremely vanilla but passionate sex. creampie woop woop, fingering

wc 1k

we all know that reiner is the definition of a devoted husband. he bypasses each and every silly cliché - he's doing the dishwasher without being asked, he's taking out the trash the second it's full, he's bringing you a hot coffee every single morning without fail. but what about when he's been away? what about when you've had to do all of these things (these things that are, really, benign and boring and things that everyone does without giving them a second thought) for a handful of days while he's away with work?

he's torn up every morning thinking about how you're having to get out of bed to make your own coffee and run your own bath in the evenings. it wasn't as if he left on purpose, if he refused to go on this work trip then his job was on the line. you insist over and over that you'll be fine, which you are, but it doesn't stop reiner feeling guilty.

he collides with you the second he walks through the door, throwing his suitcase to the side, sending it clanging against the wall. he's barely closed the door behind him by the time he's hoisting you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"I missed you."

you know that he means it. he claws and grabs at you like you're his lifeline, his air supply. he can't get close enough to you, it's as if he's trying to make up for lost time. every kiss against your neck is a silent apology for nights spent texting your "goodnight" instead of whispering it directly against his lips. you glance into his eyes and simultaneously feel a buzz of excitement and a shiver of anticipation - he looks at you almost like you're prey.

together you stumble to the living room where reiner wastes no time in resting you on the arm of the sofa, removing his jacket and tie and throwing them carelessly to the floor as he moves on to the strings of your sweats, pulling them apart and slipping both hands beneath your waistband. he grabs meaty handfuls of your ass and pulls you against him, making sure you can feel how hard he already is, before pulling your sweats down over your feet. he catches a glimpse of how wet you are through your panties and huffs a quiet but guttural groan. he slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric and pressed himself against your heat, while he undid his belt with the other. he coated his fingers with the slick that had already gathered, managing to restrain himself for a moment longer, never once tearing his eyes from yours. he loved nothing more than the way your brows knitted together when he made you feel good, the way your mouth fell into a gentle "o", and your hips pushed against him ever so slightly. there was a degree of selfishness to it - to know that he was the one making you come undone, but above anything else he just loved seeing you writhe in pleasure.

after toying with you as long as he could bear, he lowers you down onto the couch so you're laying splayed in front of him, but keeping your hips and ass on the arm of the sofa. he hoists your ankles onto his shoulders and folds you over as he slips inside you, stretching your cunt in the way you love nice and slowly.

"god, I missed this pussy."

he nips at your ankles and peppers your legs in light kisses as he tries to resist the temptation, but it's too much. three days was too long. he needs you now. without warning he begins to thrust into you, drinking in the sight of your tits bouncing and the sound of your moaning. you are everything to him when you're like this - helplessly and mindlessly his. your eyelashes flutter as you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, revelling in how he's fucking into you with such force and keeping you folded in half with your knees almost touching your shoulders. your hips would surely soon give way, but you don't care. between the way he's hitting your sweet spot and how he has a grip on your thigh guaranteed to leave a bruise, you feel the familiar knot and build up of your own release.

"gonna cum, baby?"

he knows you so well. he knows every tell, every sign that he's doing something right. the idea that you're about to cum drives him forward to the edge, but he holds off - somehow - until he has you begging for your release. tears trickle from the corner of your eyes as he doesn't relent, and soon you let go and cum on his cock. you pulse around him and can feel your juices drip onto the couch, but he isn't done with you yet.

reiner fucks you through your orgasm until he permits himself to finish, and pumps you full of his release. he falls on top of you as you both pant and return to earth, although apparently, it's not enough for him.

"was that three days' worth?" you ask. he thinks for a moment, before reaching down to your sensitive heat.

"I don't think it was."

using your fluids as lube, he slips two fingers inside.

dividers @/saradika

#I just reeeeeeeeeeeeally need him to fuck me senseless #like his life depends on it ykwis?#reiner braun #reiner x reader #aot #reiner smut

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riverlikethelake · 1 year

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A Long Way Home pt.3

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader

Summary – You and Ao'nung fail miserably at trying to stay away from each other, unfortunately, that means your parents are quick to notice...

Contains: complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships, fluff, angst, Avatar TWOW spoilers (i feel like thats obvious but wtv)

Word count: 5.8k (I'm a few days late so i panicked a wrote a lot...)

pt.1 pt.2 ... pt.4 pt.5

Will probably do one or two more parts :))

(the song will come in later :) )

You opted out of lessons for the day, honestly you haven’t needed them for a while, you just liked being with the group, but now you and Ao’nung have a facade to keep up. You sat in the Marui weaving the necklace, even though you were frustrated with Neteyam right now, you still wanted to make this.

You’re sure that these projects shouldn’t take this long, but it was your first one, so you gave yourself some grace.

"So this is where you’ve been hiding out all day?” You look up to see Lo’ak standing at the entrance. You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, unliked someone, I can afford to miss a few lessons” you teased.

He threw his side bag at you, causing you to laugh, before he sat down across from you. “Ao’nung looked like a lost puppy without you around” he quipped; you resisted the urge to smile. “And you’re over here pouting like a child.” you rolled your eyes again

“I am not pouting, I am wishing that you would leave me be.” You kicked at him and he put his hands in the air.

“All right all right, I won't bother you anymore.” He laughed, dodging your kicks, but you landed one on his chest which pushed him on his back. “You are the meanest sister Y/n” he grumbled as you laughed.

It was hard to ignore Ao’nung, he was always around, and he did kind of look like a lost puppy... usually you would banter or explore the reef together, but now he stuck with Rotxo and you with Neteyam and Kiri. Stealing glances at each other and finding flowers in ‘out of the ordinary’ places became a routine, as did meeting at the edge of the reef every night.

You’re sure that your family is growing suspicious of your nightly disappearances by now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Lying on the rocks stargazing with Ao’nung quickly became what you looked forward to everyday. You talked about anything and everything, life in the forest, growing up in the reef, family. Whatever you could talk about, you would.

“Our parents talked to each other about us.” Ao’nung stated, you sat up and looked at him, confusion splayed across your face. “Apparently, we are a ‘bad influence’ on each other...” he smirked

Ao’nung stayed lying on his back. You furrowed your brows, “But we haven’t even spoken to each other for days, at least in front of others”

“Your parents say I've caused you to be too moody” He laughed, you rolled your eyes and smacked his chest.

“Well, what about you lover boy? What bad influence have I had on you?” you teased, getting close to his face.

Hs smile dropped and he looked away awkwardly, before you could question it you noticed a dark spot on his cheek. With how dark it was, you hadn't noticed until you were this close. You grabbed his face and turned it to get a better look, he protested but you had already seen it.

“Ao’nung is this a bruise?” You questioned urgently, you looked him in the eyes, but he kept them averted. You frowned “Ao’nung...” you pleaded.

He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I uh...” you nodded for him to continue. “Mom and dad say that you’ve caused me to get into too many fights...”

This was the first you were hearing of this... “What are you talking about?” you moved closer, placing a hand on his bruised cheek “Does this have to do with my brothers?” you asked, ready to chew out the sully that couldn’t butt out of your business.

“No no it’s not them” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “There were some guys talking about you and Kiri and... well they weren’t being respectful” you didn’t want to know what he meant by that. “I don’t know, I tried to ignore it, but they started asking me questions about you and-” he gestured to his face.

You frowned and cupped his face in your hands, “Atleast they look worse” he added, amused. You rolled your eyes.

“You do not have to defend me, we’re supposed to be mad at each other remember?” You sat back and he leaned forward.

“I know but I couldn’t just let them talk like that about you and your sister...” he was only inches away from your face, you smiled. He went from being what you needed to be defended from from, to being the defender.

If you had told yourself a year ago that you’d be sneaking around and lying to your family for some boy who almost got your brother killed, she’d be feeding your head to your mothers ikran…

“Well please be careful next time” you placed a kiss on the bruise “now it's not just my brother against us...”

He smiled and grabbed your wrists, pulling you forward as he laid back down. You landed on his chest, a chuckle escaping your throat before you nestled into his side, arm wrapped around you. You could hear his heart beating, this was the closest you had ever been, you swore you could have fallen asleep like this.

You didn’t talk about Spider much, aside from conversations with Kiri and Jake comforting you, it was a touchy subject. Neytiri always tried to hide her scowl when he came up in conversation, Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t have much to say other than they missed him. It was like he was supposed to be forgotten.

You knew he wasn’t technically a part of the family, he was raised by the lab guys, but so were you. The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. Spider was your brother, and they just kind of brushed off your worry about him.

“He is human. He will be fine” Neytiri would always say. Neteyam and Lo’ak repeating the same sentiment, just more sympathetic and reassuring.

What If I was the one that got caught?

You wanted to ask them, but you were scared, of their reaction, their answer... so you didn’t.

But you wondered, and the more you did, the more you came to the conclusion that they probably wouldn’t have done much to get you back. You know that you're not the same as Spider, but how would Jake and Neytiri view it?

It was useless thinking about it, harmful even, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. So you found yourself spending more time with Kiri, she was the only one who could understand the heartbreak you harbored over your brother's capture.

Out in broad daylight it was hard to have a private conversation in such a bustling village, so Kiri called for her ikran and held out her hand for you to mount after her. You raised a brow questioningly but took her hand before she had to explain.

Before you knew it, you were flying above the village, circling as you closed your eyes and breathed in the air. It had been so long since you’d flown, spending most of your time swimming or in the Marui. Kiri did a few more laps before landing atop the mountains on the island, the view of the trees was somewhat nostalgic...

“I thought you’d like it up here” She commented, placing her hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the edge, legs dangling far above ground.

“I don’t know why I never thought of this” you breathed, your shoulders relaxing, you didn't even know you were tense.

“Well, you were a little distracted” she bumped her shoulder against yours, you swatted her away, blushing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you denied, and she laughed

“I am not dumb sister. Our brothers may not notice the looks he gives you but sooner or later they will” she smirks, leaning in closer. You look away and continue to deny her accusations, it grows quiet for a second and your mind drifts back to spider, Kiri notices your change in demeanor.

“Y/n you know I was just teasing you right?” she offers, placing her hand on your shoulder. you shake your head “No I know Kiri, I just...” placing your hand over hers “I miss my brother...” you whisper.

She breathes out and scoots closer, you lay your head on her shoulder and she moves both your hands to the ground, still holding onto each other. “I know, I do too.” Is all she says, she doesn’t try to overcompensate or comfort you about how he’ll be fine, she just understands.

That’s what you always liked about Kiri, even when you were upset over something stupid or didn’t even understand your own feelings, she listened and understood. You were both adopted by the Sullys with scientist mothers loyal to the Na’vi, granted, Kiri was adopted from birth and had her mothers recording to connect with, but the fact still remains that theres more than just being ‘family’ connecting you.

“I remember when we were little and he’d always try and carry you around” She started, “Norm and Max didn’t trust him, but you begged and begged to go outside, they could never say no to you.” you giggled at the memory.

“Of course, Neteyam and Lo’ak would start arguing about how they’d be better fit to carry you” she drawled, you could practically hear how she rolled her eyes.

“And I'd get so sick of it that I'd just end up running off or getting carried by you.” you added.

“Lo’ak would complain that you were slowing us down but back home he’d whine to mom about not being the one to look after you” she giggled

“I still don’t get why it was such a big deal” You mumbled

“You were curious about the world, you took it all in like you were one with it” Kiri explained “Max was so protective though, you barely got any time out, so when you did, we didn’t want anything happening that could confine you back to the lab” she played with the ends of your hair as she spoke. “And none of us trusted the others to not mess it up.”

You thought for a moment before sitting up and laughing “So all of that was just a way to one up each other?” you threw your head back “No wonder you guys kept it going when I became Na’vi”

She laughs with you, “Your brothers are all stupid” she states, playfully punching your shoulder “And old habits die hard, I don’t think Neteyam ever gave up”

You smiled “Teyam is...” you thought for a moment “my twin. I might just have to get used to it” you shrugged, a grin spreading across both your faces.

“Well, if you ever need a moment to not be used to it” She leaned in “I think I'm the only one who knows about this place” she whispers playfully, like she’s telling you a secret in a crowd of people, before winking.

You lamely stuck out your tongue as she snickered. Before anything else could be said, the horn that signals the return of dinner hunters sounded, you looked at each other before getting up and mounting her Ikran.

You decided to sit with Lo’ak in one of the village dinner circles, you’re not sure why, but you were surprised to see Tsireya and Ao’nung among the group. You were almost directly across from Ao’nung, and it was hard to resist scooting closer to him.

“Can he stop ogling at you?” Lo’ak leans in to ask, you roll your eyes “Maybe when you stop ogling his sister”

He scrunches his nose “I’m just saying it's weird, you guys have been at each other's throats for days and now he can’t keep his eyes off of you?” He questions, raising his brows, his argument is reasonable, but you’d rather not encourage him. You just shrug and go back to tearing up your fish to eat.

“Hey maybe he’s into that” He adds, jabbing his elbow into your side.

You whip your head around to him, eyes widened, mouth agape, a sound of disbelief escaping your mouth. He only laughs and picks up a piece of your fish, placing it in your mouth and closing it with his hand.

You spit the food at him, and it was your turn to laugh as he frowned at you. Tsireya laughed at the interaction between you two and Lo’ak’s scowl fell into a bashful smile as they shared glances at eachother. You made eye contact with Rotxo and Ao’nung, you rolled your eyes as they smirked at Lo’ak’s awkward crush.

“Maybe I ought to tell her you’re into that huh?” you chuckled into his ear, bringing back his scowl, he flipped you off before swatting you away.

You spent dinner chatting away with the Metkayina your age, and Lo’ak reminding you multiple times to “eat or your food will get cold” or a finger in front of your lips that pointed down to your food as soon as you stopped talking.

Tsireya complimented you on your tweng, sparking a conversation on weaving and accessories. You shared stories of the different bracelets and additions to your necklace, how you helped Neytiri weave Tuk’s first clothes, and when she outgrew them Neytiri wove a piece of it into your necklace before it was repurposed.

She showed you the beads from her first underwater ceremony she performed under her mother, with this, others joined in. Rotxo telling the story of the bones on his necklace, Lo’ak showed off the teeth of his first kill in the forest, Tsireya listening intently. Ao’nung spoke of the beads on his armband and the giant tooth woven into his necklace. the one he took off and insisted you wear while together just the night before.

The conversation was lively and shifted from topic to topic, until some started to yawn and parents came to collect their children, until only a few of you were left. Rotxo and Ao’nung shoved at each other as Tsireya and Lo’ak were immersed in a conversation about the forest, others continued their conversations. You stared up to the sky before a smile fell on your lips and stood up.

You walked around the group, as you passed by Ao’nung you flicked his back with your tail. You kept walking but glanced back and made eye contact with him, you smiled and continued to the shoreline on the other side of the village. You sat in the sand drawing for a few minutes before you heard him coming.

“Took you long enough” you teased, standing up to be face to face with him.

“I didn’t want to be too obvious” He twirled the hair that framed your face with his finger. Grinning, you took a step back.

“I think it’s a little unfair” You drawled, taking slow steps backwards, “That i've learned to swim” with every step you took back, he took one forward. You stopped and you were face to face again “but you haven't learned to fly”

His face dropped; your grin only grew wider.

You resisted the urge to yell as you shot through the air, Ao’nung’s hands holding onto your hips tightly. It was dark but not so dark that you couldn’t see, you flew out past the village and reef. Tsyía cried out, it had probably been a while since she had stretched her wings like this. A smile etched onto your face as you soared through the air. Last time you were over the ocean you were filled with dread, now all you can feel exhilaration.

You couldn’t help the cheers and laughter that escaped you as you accelerated, the waves below you crashed into each other, the sound reminding you of thunder, spraying water on your skin. Slowly you ascend upwards, the ocean now far below you.

“How ya doing back there fishlips?” you smirked.

“I’ll be fine as long as we don't faAA-” you cut him when Tsyía jerked down suddenly, leveling just above the ocean and tilting to the side so the tip of her wing could glide against the water. You laughed as his grip tightened and he jumped closer to you. When he realized what you did, he smacked you on the side of the head.

You snickered “Don’t worry, I won't let you fall” you titled your head back to look at him, delighted look on your face. He still looked uneasy, but he nodded with a smile, he placed his hand on your thigh and wrapped his other arm completely around your waist.

Admittedly, the position was much more secure and comfortable, but you shifted, his skin on yours felt like fire compared to the cool air nipping at you.

You leaned forward more as Tsyía started to circle, not wanting to stray too far from the village. You let your body hang towards the sea as she started to tilt, the circles getting tighter, spurring on her speed. You laughed, thrill and adrenaline buzzing through your veins.

As Tsyía twisted to the point you were almost upside down, out of the corner of your eye you saw Ao’nung reach down and graze the surface of the water with his fingers. Thank Eywa you secured both of you to the saddle.

You noticed it was starting to get late, so you decided it was time to start heading back to the village, a shame since Ao’nung had just started to let loose. You evened out and made a steady pace back to the reef.

Your head fell back resting on Ao’nungs chest as you looked down at the ocean.

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” You hummed, listening to his heart as it beat steadily.

“I can only wonder what the forest looks like” he pressed his lips to the side of your head. “You must show me one day” he whispered.

A smile grew on your face, you nodded, breathing in the air as it whipped against your face.

As you landed on a secluded part of the beach, you prepared to dismount but Ao’nung beat you to it. He stood to your side, wordlessly he held your hips in his hands and lifted you off and onto the ground, your hands landing on his shoulders for stability.

You pouted, insisting you could do it yourself but he simply laughed, leaning into whisper in your ear “I know.”

You weren't there when Kiri had her seizure, Neytiri and Ronal had taken through the island to collect difference herbs and plants, you ignored Ronal’s subtle remarks about you being too clumsy or ungraceful, it took another kind of patience to calm your mother so she wouldn’t attack the pregnant Tsahik.

You were sorting what you had collected when Neteyam and Rotxo came rushing into the Marui with Kiri in their arms, Jake not far behind them already making a call to the biolab. Before you could ask what happened, or even get a good look at your sister, you were ushered out of the Marui.

You stayed close to the entrance, peaking your ear in, you heard Neteyam explaining to Neytiri that she had a seizure under water.

That’s when you started to hyperventilate. Lo’ak noticed but Ao’nung was the first to act, pulling you into his arms and speaking to you softly, repeating instructions from your breathing lessons. His voice low and firm.

You weren’t calm at all, but you had your breathing under control now. Lo’ak placed a hand on your shoulder, telling you that the lab guys would be here soon, and Kiri would be fine.

It didn’t take long for Norm and Max to run their analysis, but Neytiri had grown impatient and brought Ronal to take over, trusting her position as Tsahik over any human technology. As they walked out of the Marui you perked up and ran over to them.

“Spell! Pa!” You called out to them. Growing up everyone called Max ‘Dr Patel’ and Norm ‘Spellman’, you of course being so young, couldn’t pronounce it and settled on just the ‘Spell’ and ‘Pa’ part. No one ever corrected you, so you never really grew out of it.

They turned around, their mood immediately changing once they saw you. Norm, being in his avatar, picked you up by the armpits and swung you around before placing you on the ground for a hug. “Birdie! How are ya kid?”

Just like how your brother was given his nickname because of how much he crawled around, you were called Birdie because of how you supposedly ‘squawked’ as a baby, you're just glad it didn’t stick like Spider’s did.

Max placed a hand on your arm before pulling you in for a hug, ironic how now you were the taller one.

“I’m good, just worried about Kiri” You pulled away they looked at you sympathetically. “Don’t worry kid, she’s gonna be fine”

You let them both place a kiss on your forehead before retreating to the Marui so they could talk with your dad. As you took your place next to Lo’ak, both he and Ao’nung were giving you amused looks.

“Birdie” They both questioned in unison, you rolled your eyes. “Something neither of you have the privilege of calling me” you state as you flick Lo’ak forehead.

Before either of them can say anything else, you hear Tuk exclaim that Kiri was awake. You peak inside to see your mother holding her hand, Tuk leaning over her, as she starts to cry.

It breaks your heart; you want nothing but to rush in and comfort her but you know she needs space, so you stay back. Lo’ak frowns the same as you rubs your shoulder saying he was right, that she is ok.

You lean back into Ao’nung’s chest as you gaze at your sister, he wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. You were to wrapped up in your sisters distress that you didn’t notice Ronal walking out of the Marui until she stopped in her place, glaring at your display.

“Son.” her voice is cold, Ao’nung jerks his head up, his ears immediately dropping. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even acknowledge you, she just coldly glared at Ao’nung before nodding for him to follow her.

Wordlessly he lets go of you, he gives you an apologetic look before following his mother.

You can tell your heart is only going to break even further...

“What did I tell you son?!” His mother barked, he held his head down, his fists clenching.

“You do not reprimand Tsireya for hanging out with Lo’ak!” He points out.

“Tsireya is not starting fights and slacking on her work because of him.” His mother hisses. She circles around him, picking up his hand to show him his bruised knuckles. “That girl is inept, her connection to Eywa scant.”

He frowns “You cannot know that mother-!” “Do not talk back boy.” She cuts him off.

He helplessly looks to his father who has been observing the whole time, he sighs and stands up. “Ronal, dear, you are being hard on the boy”

“I am talking sense into him. He has already made a fool of us; I will not let the son of the Olo’eyktan court a forest girl when our Tsakarem is already a fool for the forest boy.” she snarled. Ao’nung dug his nails into his palms.

“They have come here to learn our ways and become reef people” Tonowari calmly stated, Ronal narrowed her eyes.

“You let them into our clan and now you let our children mingle with them.” Her voice was steady. “If it weren’t for Tsireya, that girl would be considered an option for Tsahik?”

“Mother! It is not like that” Ao’nung defends

She turns her attention back to him, hissing “I have seen you two, do not think your midnight escaped have gone unnoticed.”

Shit.

Ao’nung looked down, embarrassment coursing through his body.

“I have stayed quiet but I will no longer. Stay away from her.” She hisses before turning and leaving the Marui.

Ao’nung stands there, words caught in his throat. Tonowari places a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to your mother, son.”

You tried to not cry when Ao’nung didn’t show up that night, you knew it was probably his mother, but you still couldn’t help the shame and betrayal that stung at your heart. You waited for hours, you twirled the last flower he gifted you between your finger, the petals falling off wilted.

When you showed up at the pod in the middle of the night, tears running down your face, arms wrapped around yourself, you were surprised to see Neteyam and Kiri up. They were whispering about something, probably her seizure, but as soon as they saw you, it was long forgotten.

They soothed you and help you close as you cried, they didn’t ask what happened, they could probably guess pretty easily, they just cradled you until you fell asleep in their arms. Your face buried against Neteyam’s chest; Kiri’s arms wrapped around your middle.

You felt guilty for interrupting their conversation but the next morning they insisted it wasn’t a problem, that they were glad you came to them. So you spent your entire morning huddled in the corner of the Marui with Kiri, neither of you having the energy to socialize.

Maybe you were being dramatic but you really didn’t want to face Ao’nung or Ronal.

You and Kiri had talked about her seizure, how he was sure it was because of the questions she asked her mother, but that was it. You fell into a comfortable silence until Tuk can barreling in.

“Kiri! Y/n! C’mon you have to come see!!” She squeals, jumping up and down in the entrance. When neither of you seemed receptive, she came in and started dragging the both of you. Kiri protested until She got a glimpse of what was happening in the reef.

“The Tulkun are here!!” Tuk yelled. You stared in awe at the giant creatures filling the reef. Kiri and Tuk both jumped into the water, ready to meet the Tulkun, but you simply walked to the edge of the dock gaping at the sight.

“Y/n” you heard him say your name, you looked down nervously to see Ao’nung on his ilu in the water under you. “I am sorry about last night but please” he reached his hand out to you “Come meet my spirit brother” The apology in his eyes is genuine, you could tell it had pained him how you were visibly hurt and on edge.

Hesitantly, you took his hand and he pulled you down, quickly grabbing a hold of you to place you on the back of his ilu. His hand braced your thigh as he sped off into the crowd of Tulkun. You watched in amazement, the creatures circling far below and bonding with the Metkayina.

A Tulkun jumped out of the water, twisting as it fell back in, the children watching laughing and trying to copy the movement.

“There he is!” He exclaimed “My spirit brother!” He quickened his pace until a Tulkun broke the surface, stopping you both.

“Omui!” Ao’nung grinned “How are you” he placed his hand next to the Tulkun’s front eye. Omui responded with a noise that you couldn’t understand and Ao’nung laughed. “I have been fine, mother and father think I have caused too much trouble though” He signed as he spoke.

The Tulkun made another noise before it’s eyes shifted to you, you tensed up.

Ao’nung patted your thigh, “I want to introduce you to Y/n, she is a girl I have met...” His shy grin explaining more than his words, you blushed equally as hard.

Another noise was made, and you leaned closer to Ao’nung. “I have no idea what he is saying” you admitted

He grins at Omui before looking back at you “He says you are beautiful, that I have fine taste” you feel as if a volcano erupted in your face, a hand coming up to hide your shy smile.

Nervously you signed back “Thank you, you are just as beautiful” He cried out again with what you can only guess was amusement.

You laughed as Omui and Ao’nung shared stories with each other, slowly you started to understand the Tulkun. Tsireya and Lo’ak swam by to greet Omui, briefly talking about you and Ao’nung right in front of you.

You reached over an smacked Lo’ak every time he or Tsireya made a comment about it, ignoring his complaints of getting punished for what Tsireya says.

The rest of the day was spent celebrating, telling stories, and dancing. The music was played from the beach, many Na’vi joining in with their instruments and singing. Many danced atop the Tulkun, there were obviously more experienced dancers, as the seemed to be the focus, but plenty simply danced with each other song to song.

Tsireya and Rotxo insisted on you and your siblings joining them in a group dance. You weren’t completely clueless, as many of the songs and dances had been performed at feasts and other small celebrations, but you and Lo’ak still stumbled and ran into each other continuously, bickering about who’s fault it was.

Often you and Neteyam took turns dancing with Tuk, she jumped around with no regard to the beat or rhythm, until Kiri swept her up in her arms once she was tired out. This left you and Neteyam together, he clearly found amusement in how uncoordinated you were, but he always caught you and was patient when helping you stay with the beat when you fumbled.

Neteyam laughed as he watched the the dismay on your face when Ao’nung and Rotxo pulled you all along in a dance the required hopping from Tulkun to Tulkun, and many seemingly advanced steps. You screeched as you fell an embarrassing amount of times, but Teyam always covered for you, ‘falling’ far less gracefully more than a few times or catching you.

You were dizzy and tired out by the time you made it back to Omui, falling into the water when Lo’ak and Rotxo made an abrupt stop. You groaned and stated you wouldn’t dance anymore, they picked at you for a bit but eventually dispersed, leaving only you and Ao’nung who sat on his ilu with you while you regained your energy.

As it got closer to night, more mellow, soothing songs were played. Ao’nung grinned and held out his hand as he stood on top of Omui, recognizing which song would come next.

“What if we are seen?” You whispered, hesitating to take his hand.

He glanced around before turning back to you, reaching his hand out further “Then we are seen.”

(Play the song now I think?)

And with that you placed your hand in his and he pulls you up, you glance around and realize you’re now farther to the back of the reef. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds your hand in his, slowly swaying you both to the music.

You kept glancing around as people started whistling to the song, instruments playing in the background, but your attention snapped to Ao’nung when he started softly singing the lyrics.

Wasn’t really thinking, wasn’t looking, wasn’t searching for an answer

You stared at him, he continued to grin as he swayed you to the music.

In the moonlight. When I saw your face...

You bit back a smile as he leaned in closer

Saw you looking at me, saw you peeking out from under moon beams

There were plenty of actual performers on the beach singing, but it felt like all you could hear was him. His eyes were completely fixated on you.

Through the palm trees, swaying in the breeze.

He dipped you, moving your hand to his chest as your head fell back, a laugh escaping your lips.

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before

You held your head up but he kept you in the dipped position, his face now only inches away from yours.

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do~

He pulled you so you were now standing up, he stepped back, now engulfing both your hands in his.

Don’t know how it happened don’t know why but you don’t really need a reason

He leaned closer, he brought one of your hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, a grin spreading across his face. You giggle shyly, not wanting to look away.

When the stars shine

His fingers now intertwined with yours, your arms extended outwards in a slow fall to your sides,

Made to love each other, made to be together for a lifetime

He twirled you, not letting go of each other of your hands, so you were now locked in an embrace with his holding you from the back.

In the sunshine

His breath tickled your ear, causing you to giggle

Flying in the sky

He held you tighter and shook you gently, you laughed, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before

He slowly released you; he planted a hand on your waist as you turned around to face him again

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do

He closed his eyes, getting into the song, leaning in closer.

He wrapped his arm around your waist again, taking your hand in his, swaying to the music. You stared at each other. His forehead rested against yours, as he twirled you, he placed a chaste kiss on it. You giggled as he continued to sway with you.

Now I know love Is real

You tilted you head so that your foreheads no longer touched, instead your noses did

You had heard this song once before; you could only remember the last few lines, so you softly sang back to him.

So when sky high as the angels try, leaving you and I,

Your lips were only inches apart as you whispered the last words to each other

Fly love...

You stared at each other for a few moments before Omui sprayed water out of his blow hole, interrupting the moment.

“Omui! Gross!” Ao’nung yelled, but you could only laugh, he turned to look at you, his frown softening as he watched you.

You swam back to the docks on his ilu when it got dark, your cheek pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, his hand over yours. You could faintly hear his heartbeat, strong and steady.

“Ao’nung.” You jumped at the cold voice. You peaked from behind his shoulder to see both your parents standing on the dock, your parents looking at you disappointed, Ronal and Tonowari angry.

“Both of you.” The Tsahik pointed in the direction of her Marui “Now.”

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shalotttower · 5 months

Text

The Unknown Variable

Title: The Unknown Variable Fandom: Death Note Summary: Special was never your brand. Now the weight of it is simply too heavy. Word count: 2600+ Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female) Notes: yandere L, kidnapping, L and Reader were together in Wammy's House, Reader is tricky: there's some sort of imposter syndrome, but it's not too pronounced, L is a little bit of a dick, explicit language, triggering words.

You came to Wammy's House the same year as him.

In your simple dress, with scratched shoes and hair cut short by your previous caretakers, no one paid you much attention. Just another orphan for Watari's collection, just another face to pass through the halls, that's what you were. Densely packed with brightness - bright children with bright futures - you got lost among their splendor very quickly. Intelligences and minds were relative, and it didn't take long to understand that there existed more than one tier in the hierarchy of extraordinary.

You weren't exceptional.

You weren't dim.

Not slow, not dense, merely the kind of gifted that fit into Wammy's definition of "gifted" without exceeding it. The kind that was too smart to go to a public school, but unable to stand out in this environment.

It was fine. You didn't come there to be special.

You came because you had nowhere else to go and Wammy's House gave you a bed, a roof over your head, food on the table. It was as close to a home that you'd ever get and certainly better than your time in foster care. You could ask for toys, books, whatever caught your fancy, and count on it to be provided without much question.

What you couldn't ask for was affection. Not from Watari nor his staff nor the other children, and you think...you think all of you shared that same affliction to a various extent - a kind of general numbness, a disconnect between where a heart was beating and a brain was processing.

In this, you suppose, L fit right in, while failing miserably at everything else.

You found him odd, with his hunched back and wide eyes and messy hair. He wasn't rude or cruel but seemed to lack the basic social graces and had this air of superiority around himself, like he knew he was smarter, quicker and stronger than everyone else and didn't bother to pretend otherwise.

He played alone and hoarded toys that he liked. He answered questions before they were fully asked. You watched L solve puzzles in minutes when it took older children at least fifteen, twenty, sometimes thirty. Maths, sciences, linguistics, history, law - he seemed to sample them all, eventually moving onto the next. Slept irregular hours, and the blue glow of his computer screen was an ever present feature every time you got up at night to use the restroom and passed by his room.

L was brilliant and strange, and looked down on you since the very first moment.

You didn't like him much.

You watched him grow into his gangly limbs, become more lanky and hunch a few inches more, a quick-draw intellect with a tendency to chew at his thumbnail whenever he concentrated, stare too much and pick people apart as easily as he solved problems.

He got under your skin more than once, and seemed to have a vendetta of sorts or at least you thought so, with the way he liked to study your words or personality. He never outright called you stupid, but you once found him flipping through your journal and when you confronted him about it-

"You write simple."

"What?"

L turned another page, then tapped his nail against the margin. "Simple," he repeated, looking at you. "Short sentences, simple punctuation. Not bad necessarily..." He closed the journal with a soft thump. "But simplistic. You should-"

"I'm not vying for the Booker Prize," you said and took your journal back, he didn't resist. "It's just a diary, meant for me and me only. It doesn't need to be complicated, and you had no right to stick your nose in."

You were never meant to be special, but what you undeniably had was the lack of restraint in expressing your exact opinions.

"You left it on your desk," L said, unfazed. "You shouldn't leave personal belongings lying around if you don't want others to touch them. And the cipher key isn't difficult to figure out."

"It's still not an invitation," you told him, pointedly hiding the notebook behind your back.

It was the last time you spoke with L before leaving Wammy's House and entering adulthood; and you hardly considered it a great loss. You learned to make better ciphers and keep your things close without letting them out of sight, along with how to buy groceries, open a bank account, cook your own meals, do your own laundry and many other mundane skills which an orphanage resident had no real reason to practice.

A chance or probability of ever running into him again could be easily calculated as zero. Special was never your brand, no genius lurked beneath the surface, no brilliance that could solve mysteries in less than twenty four hours. You were observant, definitely, and had your own strengths, but on the scale of extraordinary you'd rank yourself somewhere in the middle, a notch above average and below exceptional.

That's why waking up years later in an unfamiliar bedroom, surrounded by deceptively familiar walls, furniture and bookshelves, with absolutely no memory of how you got there, made no sense.

In fact, it should have ended with boarding a plane, you were heading home after a lengthy business trip. That's what you clearly remembered - getting into the car that had arrived to pick you up from the hotel. Fastening the seat belt, and then nothing. The timeline smudged into one single faded splotch.

You reached for your phone only to find it missing. Bag, wallet, documents - everything was gone.

That...that didn't look good.

You carefully scanned the room. It held an uncanny resemblance to your own, with the same layout and furniture. Same closet, same bed. A twin to the quilt thrown over you. No windows. Your suitcase lay in the corner, and provided no insight as to how and why you'd been brought here. Everything was a replica, an almost-perfect duplicate, but somehow not.

It smelled wrong. Pleasant yet not the way it should; cleaner, less dusty, and warmer.

You mind went through the loops of what it could be: ransom (why? you had a humble income and no significant family), organ harvesting (too nice of a bedroom for such purposes), trafficking (again: too nice, no traffickers were known to transport people into neat and homey places), a bizarre accident (hardly, the door and the rest of the interior pointed towards careful planning).

Nothing seemed plausible, and that was the most unsettling part, the obscure, unknown variable which didn't let you make a prediction. The room...someone tailored it to you, your interests, that much you could say with 100% certainty.

But who and why - that remained a question.

The door opened.

"You," the word hung, suspended.

"You're awake." His posture hasn't changed, if anything it was worse than you remembered, hunched shoulders and slouching spine, hands buried deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. Still slender but not as gangly anymore, he entered the room and closed the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"

The dark circles under his eyes were bigger and even more pronounced, like diluted ink spilled on a napkin.

You didn't answer.

"What am I doing here?" you asked instead and pushed yourself upright. The blanket fell from your lap, pooling down on the floor.

L's expression was familiar, one he used to wear whenever he was thinking. He rubbed his lower lip but otherwise chose to stay silent.

"Well? Are you going to explain or keep standing there?" You crossed your arms and glared at him, hiding the trembling of your fingers. You both did this sometimes back at Wammy's House, tried to over-stare each other in a contest, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to yield first. It always surprized you that he indulged in something so childish and silly.

Of all people you expected to see him least; the last conversation between you happened over six years ago.

L won the game again and you looked away.

"A series of events occurred, and I felt it to be beneficial for your well-being that you stay here," he replied after a moment, choosing each word like it was an item on a menu and not an explanation of your abduction. "You will find everything provided and within reach," L looked around the room, lingering on the bookshelves and desk. "If you prove cooperative."

You felt you eyebrows slowly rising to your hairline. "Excuse me?"

"Cooperative. The faster-"

"I'm not deaf."

His mouth twitched, like he disapproved of your manners - you ignored it. Took a deep breath and rubbed your temples, counted to ten, then exhaled through your nose.

"I'm leaving. Where's my phone?"

He didn't attempt to stop you, not when you slipped into your shoes, not when you headed for the door, not when your fingertips reached for the handle. It turned just fine, and for a second you were almost convinced that he decided to prank you (a very weird and fucked up prank, you had to admit).

What was on the other side looked like a regular apartment with an open floorplan, spacious and absolutely ordinary, except for the blackout curtains covering the windows, and the main door - thick, metal, - more suited for a vault, rather than a house. The locks appeared equally sophisticated. You swallowed, and a voice that always told you when something was not quite right, came out full force.

"Where's my phone," you repeated, voice quiet and dull, more of a statement than a question.

L remained silent, with that same blank stare which you used to despise as a child and a slight curve of his mouth. You know the answer, it said, now ask the right questions.

It was quiet, except for the ticking of the clock and the low hum of an AC unit.

A faint noise to your left caught your attention, the hairs on the back of your neck rose. In the middle of the carefully decorated living room, between a couch and a coffee table, you covered your mouth.

There were more wrinkles around Watari's eyes than you remembered and he looked older, hair gone to silver. Dressed in a black suit and a simple apron, it was him without any doubt or confusion. A chopping board and several ingredients covered the marble counter in a clear pattern of a soon to be cooked meal, carrots and mushrooms, bell peppers, fresh parsley. Celery. A single potato.

A needle with a plastic cap near the fruit bowl.

'I'm leaving.'

The words died on your tongue.

"No," you heard L's voice reach you from the layers of white noise which buzzed inside your head, "you're not. And I would prefer to not use force to persuade you."

There was a strange sort of finality in his tone, calm and absolute, and Watari, the man who raised all of you at Wammy's, the man who provided a roof, and books, and games, and never denied a request, simply nodded, then went on cutting carrots. As if this, as if your entire situation, was a mere triviality, not worth addressing.

Maybe it was a bad dream, you wondered. You fell asleep in the car and hallucinated an elaborate scenario, a noir plot plucked straight out of a movie.

It wasn't a movie.

They weren't joking.

In those few seconds while your mind processed everything in a scattered swirl of jumbled-up conclusions, you had a thought. A vase on your left looked sturdy enough. Two, three strides, grab it and swing - Watari was old. L was slim and thin.

"As you are now, I estimate 46% possibility of you injuring yourself and 8.3 % of you injuring me should you attempt to physically overpower me," L sounded close enough but you didn't turn around to check. "Along with 57% probability of Watari having to sedate you."

How did you go from nothing out of the ordinary to this, you often wondered later. In the apartment that looked normal, but was as far away from it as possible, with the orphanage prodigy whose brilliance used to frighten you back in your childhood, and the elderly man who used to serve tea and biscuits during breaks.

You looked down and found your fingers shaking. The odds were...against you.

"You're sick," you said finally. "Both of you." The irony of it was not lost, no. Of all people, someone to commit a crime of this audacity were the two individuals supposed to represent the pinnacle of legal justice.

Watari continued chopping vegetables. L made a step forward - you felt it more than saw - and it urged you to back away and out of his immediate reach, until you hit the wall. He studied your every move, steady, patient, not bothered by your accusation nor offended.

"No," you whispered and raised one trembling hand, as though it could offer you any kind of protection. Your throat felt too tight, like something was wrapped around it, pressing harder with each breath. "You fucking stay where you are."

L stopped moving.

"I can assure you," he said after a moment. "You're perfectly safe here. I have no intention of harming you, unless you prove unwilling to cooperate."

Your eyes darted towards Watari again. L's gaze followed.

"He won't hurt you either."

That didn't make you feel much better. Your phone was gone. Your documents - also missing. If you managed somehow to pass that door, you had no idea where you'd end up. It could be a regular apartment complex, or it could be the middle of nowhere. "Why am I here?" You asked again, but the question held different tone this time with the underlying implication.

L tucked his hands back inside his pockets. "I enjoy your company. My efficiency increases when I think about you and decreases by 17.3% when you're not in my vicinity."

Company. You blinked and rubbed your face, fingertips cold and clammy. "We talked four times when we were kids and none of those were pleasant experiences."

"Six," he corrected, "we talked six times, and our conversations, while short, were often...entertaining. Stimulating. You possess a particular way of thinking which I find intriguing. You're not intimidated by my intellect. You are not intimidated by many things."

"I don't want to talk with you," you said flatly. "You kidnapped me. I want my documents, I want my phone, I want to get the fuck out of this-" you inhaled slowly and focused, felt your heartbeat steadying just enough to not run across the room, yelling and screaming bloody murder, "whatever this is."

"Well, I do."

Despite the fact that you've just woke up, you felt tired. Arguing with him as a child was like running against a brick wall. Talking to him as an adult proved similar - exhausting and fruitless, nothing you said ever made the smallest dent in whatever notions L had in his head, not back then and definitely not now.

A laugh bubbled in your throat, and it probably seemed more hysterical than intended. You pushed away from the wall. "You need professional help, and I need to sleep. Don't," you pointed a finger in his direction when he twitched forward. "Don't come near me."

You headed for what was supposed to be your bedroom, or rather a cell - matters of perspective. The absurdity of the situation didn't lessen when the door closed behind, but at least huddled up in a ball beneath the quilt, with the muffled sounds from the outside you could rest your head and think clearly again.

Tomorrow you will assess everything from the new angle and then...

Then everything will be fine.

Everything will be normal.

Okay.

#death note #l lawliet #yandere l lawliet #yandere #yandere l lawliet x reader #yandere l x reader #shalott fanfiction

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grapementos · 11 months

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ʙᴏʏꜱ + ʙᴜᴛᴛꜱ 🍑

『ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʙɴʜᴀ ʙᴏʏꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏʟᴇ ʙᴜᴛᴛꜱ ᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ—ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴛᴇ & ᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʟʟ ɢᴏᴏꜰʏ. ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛᴛꜱ. ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀʟʟ 』

⤷ ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ, ᴋ. ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ, ᴇ. ᴋɪʀɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ʜᴀᴡᴋꜱ

❥ katsuki loves every inch of you. of course, he loves your mind and soul more than anything, but your looks were definitely a bonus.

you were the same with him, except there was one thing you loved a tiny bit more.

“goddamit, y/n, if you poke my ass one more time—” he gritted his teeth, body basically folded in half from your playful assault on his ass.

you giggled, backing yourself up against the nearest surface, “sorry, kats. you know i just can’t resist when you bend over in front of me like that.”

his hands were twitching and eyes scanning, a telltale sign that he was watching and waiting until the perfect moment to get you back, “it’s not even just then. when i’m walking up the stairs, or laying on my bed, you go straight for my ass like some kind of vulture.”

“you do the same shit!” you accused, “except you don’t poke, you grab!”

he chuckled, as if recalling a fond memory, “dunno what you’re talking about.”

“bullshit.” you scooted against the wall, never once taking your eyes off him. you couldn’t stay in the same spot, for he’d easily be able to manhandle you and get you back.

your eyes darted left towards the living room and then right towards the laundry room, excitement and fear and adrenaline thrumming under your skin.

“don’t even try.”

now or never, you decided, making a break for the living room with a squeal.

the heavy footsteps behind you made the chase all the more thrilling as you launched yourself towards the couch, only to fail as bakugo wrapped his arms around your waist just in time.

“no!” you screamed, struggling fruitlessly against him.

“nice try.”

❥ kaminari is always attached at your hip. physical contact makes his skin buzz with life and love and everything in between. he’s always holding your hand, your thigh, your face, and occasionally your ass.

he doesn’t have a favorite part of your body, considering he’s constantly touching all of it, but he does love ass as much as the next guy. he’ll poke you when you bend over and burst out into hysterical laughter at the look on your face when you stand upright.

your favorite thing to do in retaliation is to take the high road and wait until you’re laying together. every night, he has to crawl to the end of the bed to tug the ceiling fan light off, giving you the perfect opportunity to kick him right in the ass.

“ah!” he yelped the moment your foot made contact with his ass, curling in on himself.

“that’s what you get for nearly knocking me over earlier.”

just as he moved to get back at you, he lost his balance and rolled right off the bed with a thud.

instinctively, you burst into laughter, throwing the blanket off to go check on him.

he was laughing too, cracking up on the wood floor at his own pain. looking at him just made you laugh more as you dropped to the floor beside him, trying desperately to breathe.

“oh-” he guffawed out, “oh fuck.”

you shook off the last bit of giggles, straddling his lower stomach, “are you okay?”

once his face went back to his normal color, he nodded as the last bit of laughter bubbled out of his body, “yeah, didn’t even hit anything. except for my butt.”

your head fell onto his chest as you broke into laughter all over again, “oh my god, perfect.”

❥ ejirou is the ass man of all ass men. he naps on it, grabs it, pokes it, smacks it, bites it—he’s an ass man. he squeezes it when he kisses or hugs you—his hands just naturally gravitate towards it.

since being with him, you’ve developed the habit of squatting rather than bending over to pick something up. you only walk behind him up the stairs, which sometimes is advantageous for you, considering you’re quite fond of his ass as well.

you’ll poke his butt when he goes upstairs, which starts an all-out chase around the entirety of the house. even at his agency, you’ll visit during his break to bring him something to eat and bug him for his hour lunch.

“thanks, babe,” he spoke through a mouth full of lunch, sat behind a sleek desk.

“no problem.” you had a chair pulled up next to his, fingering his hard, gelled up hair, “you should’ve taken off your hero costume.”

he eyed you knowingly, “why? cause my sash covers my ass?”

you grinned, “maybe. but i gotta say, i do love the half-naked part of your costume.”

“perv.”

“you’re one to talk.”

he chuckled and lifted you onto his lap, his hands resting comfortably where your hips ended and ass began, “yeah, but at least i’m honest about it.”

you cupped his cheeks and kissed his nose, “you are, my lovely, pervy ass-man.”

❥ hawks isn’t always with you, but when he is, he’s all over you. he’ll take you to the highest places and hold you, the two of you trapped between his wings. your ass is one of the more intimate places he loves.

sometimes he just needs to hold you in silence, listening to nothing but the sound of your breaths mingling and heartbeat becoming one. his hands will skim feather-lightly over your waist, hips, and ass.

you’d finger his feathers, gently rubbing them between your fingers. you’d gently rub the lightly scarred area where his wings sprouted from, basking in the sheer intimacy between the two of you.

other times, when he was less vulnerable and more of the happy, charismatic, witty hero that everyone knew, he’d tickle and carry you, make dirty jokes and innuendos that left you rolling your eyes.

you loved both sides, but you had to admit that the soft, quiet intimacy was your favorite.

“i love you.” you mumbled into his bare chest, slipping your hand down his back.

“i love you.” his eyes were closed, thumb smoothing over your hip, “all of you.”

his wings fluttered under your touch the moment you moved your hand up, his hand squeezing the fat between your hip and ass.

“me too.”

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bu-blegh-ost · 8 months

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What Chip's current condition may possibly mean for both him and the crew (a theory of sorts)

Spoilers for ep. 109 and 110. Heed the warning.

Okay, so ever since ep. 109 came out I've been frantically reading about undead and what does it mean for your pc to be undead. I stayed silent about it, cause I wasn't sure if Nik could fix this, but now that ep. 110 is out I'd like to share some of the things I found, for folks like me, who do not know much abt DnD yet.

So, in a long list of features the undead have, most prominent problem is how hard it is to heal them. None of Jay's or Gillion's spells can heal Chip now, we'd need a spell that normally damages people, like necromancy spells, since they have a reverse efffect on the undead, and none of them has access to that currently. Not only that, once Chip's health reaches zero at this state, that's it. No death saves, no going unconscious or going down. That's it, which is why the moment he turned undead, Jay started spamming the temporary HP canon. So Chip doesn't lose any of his core health pool. If he did die in this state, from then on, only a spell called Wish (if I'm not mistaken a lvl 9 Sorcerer wish, so Gillion could do that if he cranked up three more levels in sorcery real quick) or True Ressurection could save him. But these two spells would also bring Chip back to life as a regular person, not the undead, so it would be cool to seek out someone who could do that for them at the most convenient time.

To balance it out, Chip is resistant to a shit ton of attack types, including poison, physical, necrotic and many other. To top it off with Chip's evasion skills, I'm giving him good chances to either minimalize or negate most damage in this form. And well, considering everything, he'd be wise to take every opportunity to do so, joke damage taking is no longer an option, I think. Also Gillion needs to be very careful with radiant damage around Chip, cause it's very effective on the undead. Chip getting hit by Gillion's strike may damage him greatly, and the two need to be very careful around each other from now on :(((

And the most interesting thing I found is the Undead Hunger variant. Some undead can just live on for centuries and be fine without a need to feed on something. But some, even the intelligent ones like Chip, may need a bit more than that, and given that very ominous intelligence check Grizzly made him roll at the end of the day, I'm thinking he's implementing the hunger rule on Chip. Lemme tell you a bit about it.

So Undead Hunger is a Variant Rule that DMs use on player characters that are undead sometimes. And that means that once in a while Chip would have to feed on some sort of specific type of morsel to satisfy his craving, or suffer the cosequences. There are two variants of undead that can make roll for this: Inescapable Craving or Diet Dependent. The player in that case rolls for willpower, which DMs usually make a wisdom or intelligence check. In our case Grizzly chose intelligence, and Chip passed with a 19. The DC for Inescapably Craving Undead is 25, but the DC for Diet Dependent Undead is 15. So from that I deduced that Chip would be a Diet Dependent Undead, since he passed the roll.

Hunger for the Undead is like addiction to the living. This means that unless Chip can resist it with a succesful roll, he may become more agressive, anxious, violent or even self-destructive the longer he is denied a preferred meal. If he can't eat, he'll have to roll for keeping himself at bay every three days. He doesn't have to roll if he eats.

So you may ask now: what happens if he fails one to many times? This is the interesting part. So if Chip fails his once per three days intelligence check, the DM will make him take ability damage. That means that one of his stats (wisdom, strength, dexterity etc.) will reduce by a whatever number Grizzly sees fit (Chip can get all the lost points back the moment he eats). In the guide I've read it says that wisdom is the most crucial ability score to lose, tho I'm unsure if the DM takes away only from wisdom or if he can take any of the stats, I may need to read more on that. But the thing is, the more rolls Chip fails, the more wisdom he may loose, and please note, Chip does not have much wisdom to begin with (but he does have high intelligence so thank the gods for that at least).

The less wisdom Chip has, the more desperate he gets when it comes to eating. He may start seeking out more risky ways to get fed or do things he normally wouldn't to get it. Hunger can't kill him though, it may just make him lose himself (hence that comment of Grizzly's about him needing to hold onto his sense of self, at least that's what I think that is). Once Chip reaches wisdom score 0, Bizzly actually loses control over him, and Grizzly takes over Chip and he plays Chip as he was a wild enemy beast. In that state Chip can throw himself on anyone or anything that can provide him food, his mind completely lost. He can hurt others, attack his crew. He can do anything the DM determines a starved mindless beast would do.

He can come back to his senses once more, when he does feed on whatever is decided his preferred meal is, all his wisdom regained and all, but the consequences of his actions, when he was not himself, the dreadful realisation that he is now a monster, who needs to be kept in check so he doesn't hurt the people he loves...This may be a lot for Chip to take. If this were to happen, he'll need a lot of his crewmates' support and reassurance, and a lot of honesty will be demanded from Chip. He'd have to warn people around him and make sure everyone knows how he's feeling, if he needs help in finding food. Casue hiding this hunger may result in tragedy.

And of course, it doesn't help that they are where they are now. In any case, if Grizz decides that Chip's favourite meal is humanoid flesh (beyond cruel is what that would be), they are fucked, basically. If it is the flesh of any other creature or animal, well they are also fucked, because they are in a motherfucking Black Sea, so good luck finding anything consumable like this either way.

But hey, of course do remeber that in the end these are just my conclusions based on what I read. Grizzly might not be even using any of these rules, cause he's the DM and he can do whatever he wants. I just thought that based on what we saw, this is very likely to happen (consider it a theory of mine for the time being). If you would like to read more about it, I'll leave you the link to this one really good website that I found most of the information on. I can't confirm its relaibility, but it looks very informative, comprehensive and thought out, and thus far was the most thorough source I found, so I'm personally willing to trust it. But please do find out for yourself. That'll be it, see you and I hope you had fun reading!

Link to the website: https://www.realmshelps.net/monsters/aboutundead.shtml#undeadhunger

UPDATE!!!!!!!!!!!

Tags written out by the wonderful @dinzeeyz !!! They explained here what is ACTUALLY happening to Chip, not a theory, facts from the boys themselves! Please make sure to read them!!!

Well, there it is folks! Of course, I do not mind that I was wrong! The fun part in theorizing is not being right or wrong, but the journey one takes to find out the truth! And the truth is SO much more horrifying than I could ever think! You see, I was kinda thinking abt ways for Chip to still function while undead, but there is NO FUNCTIONING WHATSOEVER APPARENTLY. Grizzly's not playing, and the prospect of losing Chip forever is real oh dear OMG, that's absolutely insane!!! Please feel welcome to discuss this, I'll be definitely making more posts about this once I have a little more time but holy shit guys. We need to fix that boy up F A S T. If we lose Chip, I'm not recovering-

#jrwi riptide #just roll with it #chip jrwi #gillion jrwi #jrwi #theory #undead #jrwi spoilers #spoilers #jrwi riptide spoilers #GUYS GUYS GUYS #this theory has already been disproven by rolled and THE TRUTH IS EVEN CRAZIER #pls check out the update #https://www.tumblr.com/bu-blegh-ost/730136739405086720/tags-written-out-by-the-wonderful-dinzeeyz?source=share

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theres-a-body-here · 6 months

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Unprotected hand holding

Monty x Male!reader

Happens before the events of this fic

It was rare for anyone to last more than three days as Monty's assigned caretaker, yet here you were, approaching two whole months without complaint or hesitation.

As time passed by, Monty found himself growing increasingly curious about you. Sure, he may not show it or admit it, but deep down, he secretly likes how calm you were whenever he wrecked his things.

It also helped that your phone had a gator themed wallpaper which caught his eye during one of those late work sessions. From then onwards, Monty couldn't help but feel drawn towards you somehow, even if his stubborn nature prevented him from expressing it openly.

During one of those late night work sessions, you sat on the couch working on paperwork while Monty tuned his bass guitar nearby. Every now and then, he'd sneak a glance at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, unable to resist the urge to observe you silently.

Watching you immerse yourself completely in your work, Monty couldn't help but find himself observing your habits. From the way you chewed on your pen when lost in thought to tapping your foot nervously against the floor, everything about you seemed to draw him in further. In fact, his internal fans began whirring faster as he fought against the rising warmth building within him.

Monty never thought he'd feel jealous of a pen.

Feeling bold, Monty decided to take matters into his own hands and approached the couch where you were sitting, nervousness coursing through his wires.

With a soft thud, Monty sat down beside you, careful not to disturb your concentration on the papers strewn across your lap. For several moments, neither of you spoke, merely sharing space together in comfortable silence.

Hearing the gentle humming of Monty's fans, you paused midway through signing a document and turned to face him with concern. "Is everything alright, Monty?" You asked softly, genuine worry etched into your features.

In typical Monty fashion, he replied with a gruff, "Ain't nuthin' wrong wit' me!"

The moment the words left his metal mouth he winced at how brash he sounded. He looked at you expecting to see hurt on your face, but to his surprise, you seem unphased by his demeanor.

Smiling understandingly, you returned to your work, leaving Monty alone with his thoughts once more.

After some time, Monty gathered the courage to strike. Casually yet awkwardly wrapping an arm around you, he tried his best to appear nonchalant about the whole situation. His sheer size dwarfed your frame, making it impossible for you not to notice his sudden closeness.

Feeling the movement, you glanced up at him questioningly before turning back to your paperwork nonchalantly. Embarrassment flooded Monty's core as he realized he hadn't thought this plan through very well; however, unwilling to back down now, he stammered out weakly, "Jus', uh…yeah, thought ya might be cold...."

Silence followed Monty's lame excuse, making him believe that perhaps he had crossed some sort of boundary. Just as he was about to apologize and withdraw his arm, you surprised him by scooting closer, nestling yourself comfortably against his side.

At this unexpected display of affection, Monty swore he felt his systems glitch momentarily as sparks flew throughout his wiring.

Monty took in every sensation – your softness, your warmth, and even the stark contrast between your sizes. So much input was flowing into his software that he failed to realize you had ceased working altogether, choosing instead to lay your head gently upon his chest.

His internal fans were the loudest they've ever been.

Glancing down at your delicate fingers, Monty suddenly became hyperaware of just how massive his own claws appeared next to yours. With shaking limbs, he mustered up every last bit of courage remaining within him and timidly whispered, "Hey…uh…cher? Think we could maybe…hold hands fer a sec?"

At first, there was no response save for the sound of whiring fans and breathing echoing throughout the quiet room. Then, after what felt like an eternity, you responded softly, "Oh…well, sure. If you really want," extending your hand towards him as you watched patiently.

Monty reached out slowly. His claws closed carefully around your smaller hand, holding it softly as if you were made of glass.

At this tender gesture, you snuggled even deeper into Monty's embrace, nuzzling your head against his shoulder as you relished in the closeness shared between the two of you.

Unable to resist any longer, Monty pulled you in closer still, lifting your legs so that you could rest comfortably on his lap. Wrapping your arms tightly around Monty's neck, you held on firmly as he encircled his own arms around your waist, effectively trapping you within his mechanical grasp.

As Monty's digits began tracing gentle patterns along your lower back, he leaned in close and whispered softly into your ear, "Cher…is dis alright wit'cha?"

He felt your nod, hiding your face in his neck. He held you tighter as his hands continued to grope your body.

As time passed with the two of you cuddling in the couch, Monty couldn't deny the truth any longer – he was beginning to fall for you, hard.

#monty x reader #fnaf monty #montgomery gator x reader #montgomery gator #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf security breach #male reader #male!reader #mlm #five nights at freddy's #size difference #fluff #cuddling

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p4p1l0nn · 6 months

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“i never meant for it to be this way”

pairing: idol!johnny x fem!reader

genre: romance, angst, slice of life.

a/n: hello! just dipped my toes into writing for the first time. it’s a bit raw, a bit emotional, and a whole lot of me typing away on my phone. dive in! :>

the air, once filled with laughter and shared secrets, now hung heavy with unspoken words and the lingering ache of a love slipping through the cracks. johnny's silence, like an icy wind, created an atmosphere of uncertainty.

“johnny, what do you want for dinner tonight?”

“just make whatever.”

undeterred by johnny's cold reply, you simply nodded, assuming the weariness from dance practice had etched its mark on him. “kimchi fried rice it is.” even though johnny had been a bit distant for a week now, you pushed through, cooking up a warm meal for him. the sizzle in the pan and the familiar smell filled your home. despite the recent chill, you hoped the comfort of the food would bring a little warmth back between you two.

finishing up the kimchi fried rice, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had gone wrong between you and johnny. you wondered if you'd missed a step or said something unintentionally, racking your brain for any clues to his sudden coldness. the clatter of pans and the aroma of the meal permeated the air, but your mind was preoccupied with questions.

as you set the table, your gaze kept drifting to johnny, sitting quietly. a knot of worry tightened in your chest, unsure of how to bridge the unspoken gap that had grown between you.

“honey, dinner's ready,” you called out. johnny, still wrapped in his own world, made his way to the table, his demeanor as chilly as the air around them. the table was set for one, the plates and utensils neatly arranged.

johnny, oblivious to the situation, went straight to digging into his meal. midway through, he glanced around and noticed only one serving. with a hint of confusion, he asked, “you're not going to eat?”

y/n, maintaining a gentle smile, replied, “i already ate earlier. enjoy your meal.” johnny, lost in his thoughts, remained silent, his focus returning to the food in front of him. the room was filled with the sounds of clinking utensils, but the unspoken tension lingered.

in a contemplative moment, you couldn't help but stare at johnny. the soft kitchen light highlighted his features as he ate, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. taking a deep breath, you voiced the question that had been haunting you.

“what happened to us?”

johnny abruptly stood from the table, leaving his half-eaten meal untouched. without a word, he grabbed his keys, a silent indication of an abrupt departure. a mix of bewilderment and hurt in your eyes, reached for his arm in a desperate attempt to halt the growing distance.

“johnny, where are you going? we need to talk,” you pleaded, but johnny resisted, his gaze avoiding yours. “i don't want to talk right now,” he deflected.

y/n, frustration and sadness bubbling within, pressed on. “you can't just keep shutting me out. what's going on?” his defensive silence only fueled your inner turmoil. “you've been like this for days. i can't pretend everything's fine.”

in a vulnerable moment, tears welled up in your eyes. “did i do something wrong? have i failed you somehow?” the weight of unspoken emotions hung heavy as johnny, caught off guard, struggled to respond.

“i don't understand what's happening between us. i miss the johnny who shared everything with me, who made me feel loved. this silence is tearing us apart,” you confessed, voice breaking.

in the quiet aftermath of your tense exchange, johnny stayed silent. you, sensing the heaviness of what wasn't said, continued, “it's our third anniversary today . . .” your words held a mix of sadness and letdown as you walked away, leaving johnny standing with guilt and regret etched on his face.

johnny, left alone in the stillness, couldn't help but question himself. “what have i become?” he mumbled, his gaze fixed on the abandoned dish and the remnants of your strained conversation hanging in the air.

feeling a knot tighten in his chest, johnny took a shaky breath and decided to confront the silence that had grown between the both of you. he picked up the abandoned dish, a physical symbol of his neglect, and made his way to the kitchen. the dim light accentuated the solitude as he washed the dish, each clink of the plates echoing the void he felt.

as he dried the dish, regret lingered in the air. burdened by the weight of unspoken words and the realization of what he had let slip away, couldn't shake the haunting emptiness that surrounded him.

johnny, feeling uneasy, neared the door where you retreated. almost grabbing the handle, he hesitated and took a step back, deciding not to go in.

on the other side, you waited for him, anticipating a talk. instead, you heard a door lock from outside, signaling that he left the house.

“oh, johnny,” you sighed to yourself, disappointment evident in your voice. “i wish you'd just confront me about it, talk to me,

and i hoped you'd want to fix it.”

#nct 127 #nct #nct scenarios #nct smut #johnny #nct haechan #mark lee #jaehyun #taeyong #taeil #jungwoo #yuta #doyoung #nct imagines #johnny x reader #nct dream

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vampiretendencies · 1 year

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IDCNTLIKEDARKNESS MILESTONE EVENT ★

request; congratulations on the milestone. i was wondering if you could do a piece on this lyric, xi. "tell me how did i ever find you, babe, tell me now that you're never gonna' run" - heaven by the neighbourhood. just jj feeling lucky that he has his partner but also a little insecure but the partner reassures him that she not going to bail on him like his mom.

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, a bit sad, mention of depression

authors note; thank you !! & i love this concept, i changed the 'babe' in the lyrics to 'baby' cause i though it suited jj more. said i wouldn't have time to write cause i was busy but i managed to squeeze this out. this is a repost bc when i posted w the original ask it wasn't posting to the tags.

masterlist — jj masterlist — milestone masterlist

JJ wasn't sure if it was seasonal depression, or just a single day full of justifiable sorrow.

Always being difficult to process his emotions.

He's wandered out to his pickup truck going on an hour ago, saying something of 'needing a moment'— extremely out of the ordinary for JJ. The seedlings of his childhood, coming back to haunt him, moments seeming to strum in when he was actually managing his life for once.

There was this inkling of his father blemishing in his mind, 'your mama' always told me you wasn't gonna' be shit.'

And there were thoughts of what his mom would've been like if she was around.

Why didn't she take me with her?

Was I not good enough for her to stay?

Would she be proud of me and where I am now? Did I really fail her?

Do I look like her?

Why couldn't she have stuck around and shown me everything that it requires to be a man?

She left when JJ was so young, and he couldn't remember a thing. Never being able to wrap his head around that fact that his own mother abandoned him, so that meant anyone could.

His chest is tightening vigorously, those same stitches that you sowed back together for him with time, were bursting back open. He couldn't shead a tear, having wasted numerous tears over the span of his life from this deserted

perception.

Up until he met you, he aquired infatuation a chore for most to give to him. With you, it wasn't forced it was seamless.

The four corners of the relationship neatly folded together to create the most irrevocable, maximal and acme-like love story he could've hoped for.

An exact reminder of that is interrupting his thoughts upon his truck door slinging open, revealing a concerned you to pull him from his thoughts. Now, you knew better than to pester, you always waited for JJ to fully tell you what would disturb his usual mindset.

"Don't leave the door open, baby, get in."

He was ready.

His eyes were reddened from sheer discomfort and irritability, having lost himself. Red hat sat backwards atop his head, blonde tresses poking out of the sides. So saddened, but still so alluring. His chin was propped up on his hand, arm resting on the middle console. Welcoming your interjection with dainty gestures, patting his free hand to the empty seat.

"Been in here for a while, J."

He fears making eye contact, because then you'll see his bleeding soul; yet fully knowing so prior.

"Just had to take a break ... for a minute," he mumbled, speaking above a whisper. "Not from you but this shitty life."

He swallowed hard, swearing that the lump in his throat was there to stay, panicking in such a hallow shell. "But then I realized, that if it wasn't for this shitty life ... I wouldn't have you."

You sympathized for him, struggling to rid himself of the shedded skin his parents left behind.

"And I wouldn't have what we've built together."

Unable to resist any longer, he interlocks his elongated fingers with yours, squeezing in reassurance. Bringing the shared knuckles to his untouched mouth, innocently pressing sweet pecks to each bone. You wailed and weeped on the inside, his vulnerability was elegantly put; rich and tasteful for everything he was pondering on the inside.

"Just-just don't do what she did, my sweet girl."

It was always 'pretty girl', the 'sweet' being something new, describing the whole of what he envisioned on the spectrum of you being his for eons.

"Who?"

"My mom... just don't leave me like she did."

The mystery woman resonated with your thoughts, and two and two were finally piecing together. Your poor lover.

"Wouldn't dare do what she did J-"

"Don't know why you stay, but l'm lucky you've been keeping me around. Tell me how did I ever find you, baby, tell me now that you're never gonna' run."

He sequenced his emotions in such a jarring, heavy-load, you'd always be there to take away the pain even if it was just temporary.

"M'gonna be here until we have wrinkles.’

#outer banks #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #obx3 #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagines

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luvulyy · 2 years

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𝐂𝐘𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐗. ✷

𝖸𝖴𝖩𝖨 𝖨𝖳𝖠𝖣𝖮𝖱𝖨 𝖷 𝖬𝖠𝖫𝖤 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐗, 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

Through the haze of sleep you felt your phone murmur against your sheets. Once. Twice. You turned over with a huff, rubbing your eyes. Barely able to focus your eyes on the blaring brightness you landed on the culprit of the vibrations.

Your boyfriend, Yuuji Itadori.

yuuji ♡

Hey, you up?

Baby

Fully awake now you turned over onto your stomach. Phone in your palms now, you bit down on your bottom lip. Was everything okay? Instinctively you pressed the call button, and in a matter of rings he answered.

'Baby?' His voice was low and throaty, perfect for this time of night. You caught your lip between your teeth again, but for different reasons.

'Mhm. Everything alright?' You replied quietly, still heavy with sleep.

'Shit, did I wake you?'

'Yeah, kinda.' He winced audibly. 'It's okay though, if it's you.'

You wished you were with him now, to see the pink rising on his cheeks. He flustered so easily and you took every opportunity to do it, whispered comfessions and pretty words your favourite way to tease him. His favourite too, judging by how affected he was at the drop of a hat.

'Gah, I'm sorry Baby. I didn't realise the time. I just...missed you.' He cleared his throat. 'I miss you.'

You grinned cheesily at your screen. He always put you first, regardless of whatever he'd called you needing. His selfless nature was one of the many things that made you fall for him. His laugh, his kindness, his bravery and how he got along with everyone so easily. Not to mention, that sinful body.

Lost in though, you almost missed what came next.

'I need you.'

That had you awake, fire running down your spine. It was that kind of call. Suddenly it made sense why he rang so late. Now that you knew, you could make out the desperation in his voice. He failed to bite back a gasp, unaware you'd realised what was going on. Your cock twitched in interest.

The sounds were music to your ears.

God, you loved his voice. So strong but gentle, caressing your ears as his words dripped like honey. The control he had over you was insane.

If not stronger, was the control you had over him. As powerful as Itadori was you both reveled in the push and pull of the relationship. Just as easy as you could melt under him, you decided to bite.

“If you called just to get off on my voice, I’m hanging up.”

Undignified splutters sounds through the speaker, though no disagreement. Listening closer, you could just make out the faint noise of skin against skin, the breathless tone as Itadori spoke.

His sounds were getting louder, breath heavier and words closer together. 'No wait.. hah... lemme take care of you.'

He knew just how to press your buttons. From the moment he picked up the phone, you were a goner.

'Come on baby boy, you know you want to.' Desire pooled in your stomach and you could feel the heat travelling to between your legs. Pet names like that effected you like nothing else.

You slipt your hand into your boxers, fist curling around your dick. Slowly at first, you began to pump it, in time with the slapping coming from yuuji's side of the phone.

A gravelly chuckle followed through the phone. 'What you up to Baby? Am I missing something?'

You resisted the urge to moan.

'Yuji...ah, wish you were here. Touching me.' You forced out in between pants.

Something snapped inside of him. The air seemed to shift around you and it only deepened your arousal.

"How about you do it for me, unless you already are? What pretty noises you're making for me… am I making you feel good?"

Oh. Oh. He was in that sort of mood. The type where he'd pin you down and watch you squirm. You'd already lost, turned on indescribably.

'Such a good boy, doing exactly what you're told. Here.' A text popped up at the top of your phone. 'A little something to reward you.'

Without a thought you clicked on the message. And fell apart.

It was an image. You trailed your eyes hungrily along the lines of his chest, the definition of his rock hard abs, down the path of his v-line to where his hand sat. The picture ended with his length, already standing to its height and leaking pre-cum. You resisted the urge to drool.

'Fuck. Fuck.' You spluttered. Your boyfriend's attractive body was nothing new to you but sprawled like this, coated in sweat as he worked himself all for you, did things to you that were foul. Your pace quickened.

'You like that, huh? My good little boy, falling apart so easily for me.'

Fog tickled at the sides of your brain. Those words hit something inside you everytime. Like putty, you feel into Yuuji's hands. And with the scandalous whine that flew past your lips, he knew it.

'Bet you're rock hard for me baby. Aching. Being awfully quiet too actually. Ya still there? My boy, my pretty little thing. Touching yourself just thinkin' of me? Imagining my hands on you, how I'd trail along your thighs, towards right where you want me. Mhm?' He hummed, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Clouds completely covered your brain now, dumb to anything but your boyfriend's words. All you could do was groan deeply in response, jacking off mindlessly.

'Wish you were here right now. I know how much you love how I feel, my mouth, my tongue. I'd go down on you, swirling just the way you like. You'd love that, working you, me taking care of you. Taking charge. No need to worry your pretty little head. Just loose yourself in me, my hands, my words. Ain't that right. Let me hear it, mhm?'

'Yes, God yes. Ah, ah... Fuck. Fuck me. Take me, please.'

His voice seemed to catch in his throat. 'Begging for me like that I can't control myself. Remind me, who does that pretty little cock belong to?'

'Yuji. Ah, I-I'm close. Yours. I'm all yours. Please Yuji. Yuji yuji yuji.' You cried his name like a mantra, self control utterly shattered.

'Go on. You earned it. Such a good boy. All for me. Cum for me.'

You could barely comprend Yuuji's pace fastening through the phone as well, thoughts sluggish and under his spell. Barely able to hold back any longer, his command along with such words spurred you on.

The moment he went over the edge was audible. A guturall groan ripped through the phone as you impossible quickened your pace. His noises were barely words but you could still make out the one that finished you. 'Good boy.'

And you were gone.

For a minute there was silence, save for mutual panting and attempts to settle your lungs. Exhaustion worked its way back into your bones, but was distant under the afterglow.

'Well. Did not think it'd be that hot. Still with me Y/n?' Your boyfriend joked through the phone, smirk clear in his tone.

'I hate you. You and your stupid words. Waking me up this late just 'cause your such a horndog.'

'Hate me?' He laughed loudly, the pure joy warming your heart. 'Your horndog, anyway. Didnt seem like it when your were moaning around your own grip, my good boy?'

A wave of what just happened washed over you. 'FOR FUCK'S SAKE!'

You buried your face in your pillow, cheeks red. God, you loved him.

#i have never wrote such filth lord have mercy #first attempt at smut WOO!#lmk?#phone smut #yuji x reader #yuji x you #yuji x y/n #yuji itadori x male reader #yuji itadori #yuji smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #male reader #new kink unlocked #AAAJSHDBSNXN #yuji x male reader

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xelasrecords · 5 months

Text

As One So Half

Han Jumin x MC

Jumin goes to V's house after burying him, marking the first time he visits without his friend waiting on the porch.

Based on the Secret Ending with some changes, most notably the MC being romantically involved with Jumin instead of Saeyoung. How differently would Jumin grieve if he had someone by his side?

CW: graphic descriptions of death and grief

Words: 6k

Masterlist Read on AO3

Grief had hung upon V and him for as long as Jumin could remember. At times, it was a shadow lurking in the dark. Other times, it was a crushing weight that broke his ribcage in. From the moment Jumin crashed his toy car into V's house and V bargained for his friendship in exchange for forgiveness, they had invited grief to sit with them like a premonition. Their friendship started with an accident and ended with one.

The clamour at Mint Eye still reverberated in Jumin's ears. How his security guards broke through the cult doors and he caught a mop of turquoise hair on the ground, stupidly relieved that V was finally within reach and Jumin could ask him everything he had been holding back. How the relief was brusquely cut with terror when it dawned on him that it was V, sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

Jumin had rushed in and almost slipped in his own friend's crimson blood, finding purchase on his still warm hand and feeling for his pulse and came back with nothing. He had pulled V into his lap and saw V's head drop without resistance, noticed his chest not rising and falling and thought the sensation of it unnerving. He had pressed on V's gunshot wound, willing the blood to stop flowing. No words could come out of his throat. He closed V's clouded mint eyes with stiff fingers and both knees in the pool of blood.

The blood was warm and had soaked into his dress pants. He could still feel the fabric clinging to his legs.

When he registered the pandemonium around him, Rika was already keening below the gaudy throne and Saeran had crumpled into a foetal position, a gun inches away from him. Saeyoung had fainted and was hauled by a brown-haired stranger. The new party coordinator was scrambling at V's pants pocket, her cheek streaked with blood. She's alive, Jumin had thought dully. Saeyoung was wrong. V didn't betray her. Jumin could not reach for her despite his heart. His limbs had petrified on the ground V died on.

Jumin saw V dead over and over. He saw V in the shower where he stood underneath the water, diluting the blood from his three-piece suit and rinsed away what was left of V from him. He saw V in the bed where the fifth glass of wine had muffled his senses but failed to put him to sleep. He saw V at the funeral before they closed the casket, his face frozen in a serene smile as if there was anything peaceful in being shot to death.

That was how Jumin lost V for the final time. He would not see him again.

Jumin stood alone in V's living room now and he didn't know where to start. There was no user manual for clearing up one's dead friend's belongings. His hand hovered over the light switch before rendering it useless. The harsh tangerine sunset cut through the open windows and washed the rustic room aglow. It was enough lighting and a reminder that V was gone. V would have paused with awe on his face and took a photograph.

Jumin had come over right after V's burial, and restless silence had greeted him where V's earnest welcome should have. The refrigerator hummed from the dark kitchen, the grandfather clock ticked on, and the brine in the cool breeze pricked at his skin. The quiet was deafening, devoid of the laughter that he was used to.

It wasn't just the house. The anxious chitter in Jumin's head had deadened as well. It used to thrum without end when V started to disappear and come back as if everything was fine two years ago, but Jumin could always detect the nervous fiddling and the melancholy that weighed him down. He had begun to lose V since then. He simply didn't know it yet.

Two years was a long time not to know peace, and there was no peace in the aftermath. Only resounding emptiness remained. For two years, Jumin had been living with fear fused into his bones that he couldn't recall another way to live. Two years of being on high alert, wishing V would put an end to it.

V finally did now.

Jumin knew the logical conclusion was that he was grieving, but he was a distant observer watching his grief engulf him. Nothing was as heavy as this sorrow, as the tether of his soul being cut in half. He couldn't see the end to it, this grief that had started since V was alive. Each time V returned from his long absences, he was more damaged, more changed, and there was nothing Jumin could do to help.

He almost missed the days of fearing for V's safety when V was at least still alive. If Jumin focused on the well-being of the RFA and the mess Rika left behind, he could feel normal, as if nothing had changed. He could delude himself that none of this was real. It was easier to handle practical tasks than turn to his emotions, easier to care for others than himself.

Jumin walked past a line of small cacti on the bookshelf and headed to the brown leather sofa, grazing it with his fingers. He could almost hear V telling him to sit down, wait here, as he made a fuss in the kitchen over which wine he thought Jumin would enjoy the most. Jumin would then say that all wine was enjoyable with the right company and V was the best company anyone could have. V would modestly shrug it away, but it wouldn't stop Jumin from reassuring him that he was worthy of the title.

V was not here anymore, yet Jumin hadn't lost the ability to predict his moves like he could predict his own thoughts. No matter the secrets V brought to his grave, he was still the friend that Jumin knew. But if V had in him a semblance of the friend that Jumin was familiar with, shouldn't he have been able to read V's mind in the past few years?

He would never forgive V for leaving on his own.

Slowly, Jumin walked and stopped outside V's bedroom. Though the white oak door was wide open, he couldn't bring himself to take another step. He hadn't been aware that the last time he entered would be the last. V's arm had been slung around his shoulder as he hauled him into bed. Jumin remembered V chuckling drunkenly, hopelessly, pleading with him to keep it from Rika.

He had known something was wrong then, but assumed V would confide in him in his own time. Jumin had faith in his friend and clung to the hope that it was reciprocated. What hope it was. Some lessons you could only learn not merely after hitting rock bottom, but after you were dragged across the serrated surface and bled out alone.

Jumin leaned his head against the door frame, watching dust motes drifting above the unmade bed. He wished they had met up more often. He should have hunted V down for even one night of conversation over wine. However disappointed Jumin was in V, his yearning to tell him of his pain was even greater. For years, V had been the first and only person who came to mind when he wanted to talk, and that had not changed.

"You've abandoned me, V," Jumin murmured under his breath.

He could forgive V for almost anything, but not for leaving him alone in a world where he was already alone.

Suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. For one second, he could pretend it was V about to tell him that his death was just another lie he concocted to cover up a greater evil. This lie he would forgive. He would give up nearly all his possessions for the one person who shaped all that was human in him, who then took it with him when he left. Jumin was only masquerading as a person on the outside; his soul had drifted somewhere he could not follow.

But the hand on Jumin was too reverent and not at all like V's. It was the hand that had brought him to his feet after the paramedics wheeled V's body away, the hand that held him tightly as if he would break if she let go. He would not. Not in front of everyone. He never learned how to, and there were people to take care of.

Jumin fixed his tie, braced himself for another wave of bad news, and turned around.

But the party coordinator cut in before he could speak. "Everyone got back safely from the cemetery," she said. In the shadowed room, the rings of exhaustion beneath her eyes were barely noticeable. She hadn't changed out of her black mourning attire—a silk ruffle blouse with sleeves that cinched at her wrists and a long skirt that flared down to her calves. "Rika went with Yoosung and Zen, Saeyoung returned to the hospital for Saeran, and I just got off a call with Jaehee. She was brewing coffee at her home."

Her method of mentally tracking the members was not unlike his. Jumin couldn't deny his gratitude for the familiarity and her concern for them. "And you're here at V's home," he commented. "I suppose this could be a safe place for you. I used to find it a sanctuary myself."

"Is it still?"

"One would think I'd hate coming back to my dead friend's place, but I can feel him here." He let the rough texture of the wallpaper scrape the pads of his fingers. There was a faint maroon stain against the beige where V had spilt his wine while laughing at Jumin's office anecdote. "He might have built this house for him and Rika, but everything here speaks of him, even the things he got out of devotion for her. They are still his devotion. In the safety of these walls, V lives on."

Perhaps he didn't come here to sort out V's belongings. His subconscious might have led him here to seek shelter from the disasters in the ghost of V's warmth. His spirit could even linger here. Jumin longed for a sign that his fascination with the occult would be proven true.

Her eyes swept through the house, taking in the mismatched antiques that V dearly loved. Jumin wondered what impression they left on her, if she could see what he saw and felt what he felt. "Do you think he's saying anything right now?"

"If he does, I cannot catch it. He's too distant from me to predict," Jumin said without inflection. "It wasn't always like this."

She studied him—not with pity, he noticed with a muted surprise—but sorrow. It felt too much like a burden that he had to change the subject.

"Have you ever had to bury someone you love?" he asked.

She faced ahead. There was a remote look in her eyes that pulled her from the present as if she was reliving a bygone time. At that moment, she felt almost as distant as V was. Jumin did not know yet how that would feel, but he realised with a pang that she had known unbearable pain, and wished he had been there for her. "Yes," she said. "I wanted to claw them out."

He did not quite share her feelings. Rather than unearthing V's corpse, Jumin wanted to revive him through the debt of unfulfilled promises, or necromancy. But here was someone who understood. He wouldn't take her for granted. He had lost enough in this life.

"It must be suffocating inside," Jumin noted.

She nodded. "It's probably good that he can't feel pain anymore."

Jumin didn't have to ask which he she was referring to. "I would've been happy for him if he didn't leave a mess behind."

"I heard what you said earlier when you blamed him for leaving without you," she said, watchful gaze seeking a change in his expression. "Did you want to go with him?"

Jumin's jaw tightened. "I want him not to go at all."

"He must have been special for you to love him that much."

Jumin scoffed. "He was definitely extraordinary, to have wreaked this much havoc in the RFA. V is—was complicated. Despite all the things he'd done, I can't see him as anything but a good friend, but the magnitude of his faults isn't something I can look past either."

"I think he tried to do good at the end," she said. "I was there when he tried to right his wrongs. I saw his sacrifices, but we can't neglect the casualties and how he dealt with things. I wish he understood that one poor decision could snowball into something too massive to handle alone."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." It was an axiom that Jumin came across when he was young, but its meaning never dawned on him until he was forced to see it in V's downfall. "Trying to understand V is like reading a book you love upside down in a mirror. Deep down, you know the story is one that you keep close to your heart, but you struggle to make sense of it when the words are jumbled. It's hard for me to accept that V had changed so thoroughly without my knowing."

She rested her back against the doorframe, stretching out her legs until their toes almost touched. "It may be that he was neither good nor bad. It's impossible to box people into two rudimentary options."

Jumin laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, he was no doubt a bad parent to the twins."

She sighed. "A child should be loved and protected, and it's always more important that they feel your love. It's not their job to constantly convince themselves they're safe and loved. It should be easy for them to know how much love they deserve without worrying it would be taken away if they're not good enough." There was a frown between her brows that Jumin itched to ease out. "It wasn't just V, but Rika too. One through passive neglect, the other active violence." She put her hands into her skirt pockets, her voice softened. "Do you hate the twins? Saeran?"

The mention of Saeran was a blow to his gut, as it did whenever he imagined Saeran firing the gun at V, a scene that he never got to witness. Jumin was not sure if it was good that he never did, for now he was left to forever wonder how V felt in his final moments. The loud bang was all he heard when he stood outside the locked gates, and his desperation to get to V was the only thing that kept him upright on his feet.

"V failed the twins. Half of his failure is mine, and I consider it my duty to finish what he started," said Jumin in a tone that brooked no contradiction. "The RFA is family. That includes Saeyoung's lost brother. I have to protect them. You've seen how much danger they're in. I would've helped V if I had known. I have the power and resources at my disposal." His gaze strayed to the unopened Romanée-Conti bottle on the copper side table in the living room. Jumin had gifted the wine to V after a trip to France, but he never got to taste it. There were a lot of things V would never get to do. "I would have, if only he'd asked."

She unhitched herself from the wall and stepped closer to him. In all bewilderment, his breath halted. He had thought it impossible to feel anything but numbed anguish since V died. "You have a remarkable capacity for forgiveness and an even more remarkable heart, Jumin." She laid her palm on his chest, right on top of his beating heart. "I've always admired your compassion—I haven't forgotten how you flew back home the minute you knew I was living with a bomb—but you still surprise me with how good you are. Not everyone can do what you do, and you do them without being forced. Among all the people I've met, you're one of the kindest. No wonder V chose you as his best friend. I would too."

Her words were awfully gentle and soothing, urging him to pull her into his embrace and let down his armour. It was such an outlandish desire that Jumin found himself almost reaching for his phone to inform V about his latest emotional development, the realisation catching up a second late that V's phone was in his possession now, that it would just ring in his pocket and he wouldn't hear any more Jumin, it's you. How is Elizabeth the Third? and he wouldn't exhale in relief because V sounded fine, there was nothing wrong with him or their friendship, and he could finally sleep without relying on wine.

The deepest wound V left behind was the loneliness Jumin didn't know he was capable of feeling. He could not reminisce about V with anyone because no one knew him exactly like Jumin did. No one knew V used to have a spark of mischief in his eyes that he would cover up by feigning innocence and everyone but Jumin would fall for. No one knew V used to laugh with abandon when they snuck out of their childhood homes and raced to catch the sunrise breaking over Han River. Even Jumin's impeccable memory might not stand a chance against time. He might forget the sound of V's laugh as age corroded him. There would be no one to keep V alive after he passed.

Jumin put away her hand, not daring to indulge in the feel of her skin. "You give me more honour than I deserve."

"Because you don't give yourself enough."

Jumin stared at her with bleak despair. "Have you ever thought that I may not want to choose him back? That if I could go back in time, I may not want to begin this friendship with him, knowing how he would end?"

She tilted her head and watched him sadly. "V kept the contract too."

"The contract the two of you signed when you became friends. He kept it in his pocket." She carefully unfolded a yellowing paper from her pocket and handed it to him.

Jumin blanched. Whatever argument he was about to launch dissipated into thin air.

"What?" he croaked, the question scratching at his throat.

With trembling hands and quick strides, Jumin brought the paper to the windowsill. The sky above the slated roof was a fiery blaze that burnished their childish signatures with orange light. Jumin could feel the flames of fury licked at him, though for what he couldn't reason. It was V keeping yet another secret when Jumin thought he had lost his copy of the contract. It was the guilt of swearing not to forgive V when V had cherished him until his end.

Jumin bowed his head over V's barely legible handwriting, scrutinising every swoop and slant that dictated the start of their friendship. I hereby declare myself a friend to Han Jumin. At the end was a measly drawing of a toy car in green ink that had faded with time. There was dried blood staining the edges of the paper, blood both new and old.

"Why are you giving this to me now?" Jumin asked tersely.

She stood by his side. "I thought you wouldn't want to see it with everyone around."

Jumin couldn't peel his eyes away from the paper. The words were starting to morph into one another. It was the shortest contract he had ever signed. He had thought it effective. Now he wondered whether the contract length was directly and infernally proportionate to the period of their friendship. He should have included a clause to prevent his idiotic friend from doing anything that tempted death.

Jumin clutched the broken contract to his chest, hunching over it like it was V's lifeline, his breathing quickly becoming erratic. There was an awful pressing against his ribcage, a grotesque need to grieve with emotions bursting out of him as he had implored V to do when he thought V was mourning for Rika, but he couldn't. He had locked himself in this glass prison for as long as he could recall, and now he was paying the price. Thick, unscalable walls closed in around him. No matter how hard he pushed, he could not break through. He could not cry.

His best friend had died and he could not shed a tear.

"It's okay if you can't cry. It's okay," she muttered close to his ear. "You're not wrong for not crying. I know you're hurting. You don't have to prove that with your tears."

His breathing was out of his control. The sea air was choking him. He wanted to check on his cufflinks and tie clip and whether the tuck of his shirt was perfectly even on all sides. He wanted to fall to his knees.

He felt an arm around his shoulders and a hand gripping him, enveloping him with a warm, decadent scent that he always associated with her.

"I was supposed to go first," Jumin heaved out, words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I was supposed to go first," he said. "When we were teenagers, V promised he wouldn't die before me. He'd always been reckless and I was afraid of losing him, so I made him swear an oath. I thought I could keep him alive if I tied him to me."

Her face contorted in pain. "It's not your fault, Jumin. You can't change his decision when it's not yours to change. V has chosen his path and you can't follow him. You can't."

But Jumin wasn't listening. "For years when I forgot how to be human, I only ever had to turn to V as my reminder. He was my mirror of truth. In the steadfastness of his friendship, I found the conviction in myself that I am human, that I am capable of being generous and kind and all the things you mentioned. I can only stand before you and be the person you admire because of V. I owe him my entire life, but it is not much of a life to live when he won't be there to see the end of it."

"It's still your life. That is important." Her fingers slid up his jaw and cradled his face with tenderness. It was the closest Jumin ever got with anyone, the most loving touch he had ever received. It made him want to simultaneously shatter into pieces and pull himself together. "I wish V knew how loved he is. I can see how much goodness he inspired in you, and you in him. I'm sorry you lost him so soon. You should have had more time."

"I thought we put in each other the same amount of faith," Jumin said. "I thought our shared history meant more to him. I knew he had secrets and trusted that he kept them with the best intentions. That trust was misplaced."

"You trusted him because he gave you no reason to doubt him. It is as you said. How could you have known that your closest friend went behind your back when all he had been was good to you?"

"I don't know." Jumin's reply was a whisper of a broken boyhood dream. "Twenty years I have called him my best friend and gloried in the truth of it right before my eyes. Now I don't even know how to be without him."

"Oh, Jumin." Her hands slipped to the back of his neck and held him close. Soft wisps of her hair tickled his cheek. "You will learn. It will be tough, but there's no other way. You just live through it, one day at a time. But know that I'm here with you."

There was no one who could see through him as well as V did, no one who could understand him with a single glance and infinite patience. Jumin wondered if he would catch V's exact shade of turquoise on anyone else's head. He wondered if he wanted to.

"Thank you," Jumin mumbled into her neck, allowing himself to stay in that position for five seconds, counting them in his head, before pulling away. "I must ask you something. How did you know that V had the contract on his person?"

She hesitated. "It fell out when we were locked in the cult prison and Saeyoung... hurt him out of anger. I saw V putting it back into his pocket. It was the first thing he salvaged when Saeyoung stopped. I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. I tried to shield V but Vanderwood dragged me back."

A bolt of pain struck Jumin when he realised it was how V got the bruises that he inspected on the cold metal table in the mortuary. And another when it hit him that she might have got injured during the commotion.

Jumin grasped her elbows and scanned her figure, wondering if the long sleeves and skirt were to cover up the bruises. "Were you hurt?"

She seemed startled but quickly recovered. "Not intentionally."

His stomach dropped with dread. "Then why did you intentionally throw yourself before someone who meant harm? Have you no concern for yourself?"

"I thought the kicks were getting too much for V," she said. "And for you. Your heart would break if you saw him so battered. He didn't even try to protect himself, Jumin."

"Neither did you, it seemed."

"Better I get hurt than him. He was already so weak. He couldn't anticipate the blows because he was blind. I don't think he even wanted to. He just lay there sputtering apologies and claimed all Rika's faults as his." The arch of her chin was a challenge, and in it, Jumin saw the quality that attracted him to her, not that he would mention it at the moment. "Tell me you wouldn't do the same."

He was starting to suspect he gravitated to a certain type of people. "That is hardly a fair comparison," he gritted through his teeth. "You don't know him like I do."

"Do I have to befriend someone to protect them?"

Jumin shot her a sharp look. "You should have known the danger you were in."

"And I know you love him!" she snapped.

Jumin was stunned. She was not one to lose her composure, least of all at him.

"You love him," she said again, lower this time, "so I looked after him."

"God." Jumin put his palms over his face, trying to ignore the convoluted pain that twisted and thrashed in his chest. Yet another person he failed to take care of, added to his list of failures. It was a short list, but the guilt would stay for a long while.

"Jumin," she said. "I know my limit. And it was Saeyoung. Beneath his anger was grief. I had to trust that he wouldn't do anything deadly to me. Besides, he's apologised and I've got myself checked up. Only bruises. Nothing fatal."

Jumin's hands fell to his sides. "Only?" he said incredulously. "He could have caused serious harm to you."

She lifted her brow. "Do you prefer V to take the brunt of it instead?"

Jumin stared at her in disbelief. "You can't do that. You can't be like him and sacrifice yourself recklessly to save people. Do you expect me to be grateful if my peace is paid with your blood?"

"It was quite strategic, actually," she said. "We split the pain between us. Not at all reckless."

"Don't you start."

She pressed her lips together, dissatisfied.

"I just wish to protect all that I care about," Jumin said. "I never want you or him to get hurt, but he did and now he's dead and there's only you left, so I can't"—he choked, pain lancing through him like wildfire—"I can't lose you either."

She closed her eyes briefly then took his hand, pressing it against her cheek. "You're not losing me. I'm alive, right here," she said. "When I was at Mint Eye, I could hold on because of you. I was thankful that you weren't there, that you were safely out of reach. And then you burst through the doors. I was horrified. I didn't want you to see V like that. I didn't want you to be near those elixirs and weapons." She kissed his knuckle, the softness of her lips sending shivers up his arm. "I'm just as afraid of losing you."

Jumin brushed a thumb across her cheekbone, guilt and helplessness roiled in him. "I'm sorry for getting angry. It isn't like me to lose my temper."

She shook her head. "You also just lost your best friend. Grief can pull out the worst in us and make us do things we don't normally do."

He sighed. "V has a salve here somewhere," he said stiltedly, unsure how to act in the face of kindness so unexpected in times like this. "Let me tend to your injuries. It's the least I can do."

She smiled. "Later. Let's not be too eager to get me out of my clothes."

Jumin nodded and placed the contract on the side table, tucking the edge beneath the Romanée-Conti. Somehow Jumin could tell she was being honest. She had never shied away from the cold truth, and it didn't seem like she was about to now. He didn't think he could bear it if she treated him like a fragile thing the way everyone around him seemed to.

A framed picture on the wall caught his attention. It was a photo of V and Jumin in their school uniforms sitting in the car, Jumin looking sullen while V sporting a wide grin. V was still an amateur photographer then, so the picture had more ceiling than boys.

Jumin remembered that day as vividly as the sting of chilli that had burned his tongue. V had been on a rebellious streak and dragged Jumin to ditch Driver Kim after school for a cup of tteokbokki by the street. While the rice cakes had a strange, pleasant chewy texture, their digestive systems were unprepared for the unhygienic street food.

It was the most horrendous stomachache Jumin had ever experienced.

After snapping the picture, V had fallen asleep on his shoulder while he recited his defence arguments for V, knowing only the harshest scolding was waiting for V at home. But V was stubborn. He would always pursue more adventures, and wherever V was, there Jumin was as well.

Jumin missed the weight of V's head on his shoulder, the feeling of V trusting and depending on him. They were always Jumin and V, V and Jumin, two inseparable boys who tried to make their gold-spun lives into something bigger than themselves but found solace in one another instead. They understood each other's familial pains and knew the right things to say when one was hurting. They made each other better just by existing.

"Did V mention me when you were with him?" asked Jumin.

"I'm sorry," she started, and he immediately wanted to stop listening. "He only blamed himself and talked about stopping Rika by giving himself up. But that doesn't mean he didn't care about you." She gestured at the contract. "That itself proves it."

Jumin thought he would be hurt, but there was only numbness inside him. "What were his last words?"

"Something about always being with Rika like the sun. How she was the love of his soul."

Jumin chuckled bitterly. Of course V would weave nonsensical poetry at his dying breath. He recalled his speech at the party a couple of days ago. Many people ignore the inconvenient truth for the sake of being comfortable, but true happiness only comes when one has faced that inconvenience. Now faced with the blunt truth, he found no joy to glean from it. He would never know V's final thoughts about him. In the end, even the truest truth couldn't bring V back alive.

"You said V has chosen his path," said Jumin, staring past the swaying grass outside, "but the path he walks on is a lonely one, and he walks it alone. Didn't he know that I would've carried his burden with him?"

But even as he spoke, he knew it was precisely why V couldn't confide in him. V, who would take every problem upon himself, who wouldn't let anyone suffer in his stead, whom Jumin wouldn't call Jihyun again because V hadn't permitted him to.

He could wait forever for a chance to call him Jihyun. He was still waiting for it.

"I'm confident he knew," she said. "He'd have to be blinder than he was not to see how selfless you are."

The corner of Jumin's mouth quirked up, but it wasn't a smile that reached his eyes. "V was the selfless one."

"It's not a competition."

He glanced at her. "Do you think he's reincarnated somewhere?"

The temperature was dropping as night approached. She shifted closer to him. "If he did, I hope he'd live a peaceful life."

"No," Jumin said adamantly. "He's done too many awful deeds to be reincarnated as a human. He should be an animal. A cat would be fitting."

She frowned. "I thought you liked cats."

"Humans and cats are two different things. I like cats. I have no desire to be one." His mind was set. V must be reincarnated. Only then Jumin could meet him again and forgive him. "I'll be on the lookout for emerald cats in case it's V. I'll provide him with everything he needs. He won't have to put himself in danger again."

If there was anyone Jumin loved more than himself, it was V. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. And if V was threatened with a loaded gun, there was no saying that Jumin wouldn't take the bullet for him. How could he hate V for doing something that he would do himself? Perhaps they were more similar than he thought.

"Elizabeth the Third would welcome a green friend," she agreed.

"Of course." Jumin fixed the lapel of his black suit. V had bestowed Elizabeth the Third with her majestic name. There was nothing in Jumin's life that V had left untouched. "I need a drink."

Her eyes flitted from the childhood picture to him, her face mirroring the unending pain that wrapped around his heart, and he knew she had seen through him. "I brought wine," she said. "But first, dinner. I'll be disappointed if you let my cooking go to waste."

"You're caring for me," Jumin said. "You have been since the beginning. What an odd feeling. No one has ever cooked for me aside from my chef and V." He observed their elongating shadows on the hardwood floor, how they melded into the looming darkness in the room. "My utmost appreciation. That applies to your care for V as well."

She simply nodded and twined her chilled fingers with his.

Outside, the boiling red sky was dissolving into black. The sun hung low over the violent waves crashing against the cliff. She clicked on the light switch, and Jumin watched the light reflected off the picture frame glass, obscuring V's and his youthful faces. He followed her to the dining table, feeling like an intruder in his dead friend's home, listening to the ghost of their laughter over clattering plates from another time, silently willed him to come home, then pulled out a chair for her and ate in silence.

Footnotes:

Sunset as the atmospheric setting was logical and metaphorical. Timeline-wise, this fic is set a few hours after the burial took place at around noon. The metaphor comes from how V, the self-described sun, has died. The sun has to set now. It was a fun challenge to portray a scenic sunset alongside the dark theme of grief. But hey, beautiful and depressing are a perfect description of V.

This is the most planning and note-taking I've ever done for a fic because it closely follows the canon events! The bullet points, annotations, personal arguments and analysis are LONG.

It's also my most planned characterisation for MC. I usually figure out their personality as I write, but since I replayed the Secret Ending, I'd known I wanted to give Jumin someone who understands grief and loss and knows how to navigate the conversation without being too pushy. He's so lonely there. He doesn't know how to reach out and nobody can be there the way he needs.

My initial plan was to make this fic Jumin-focused without an MC, but then she entered the scene and from the way their interaction was going, it would've been wrong not to make them have feelings for each other for a while. I meant to show that love can coexist in your worst grief, and sometimes you find out how loved you are through those who stay after the external noise dies down.

Used Jumin's line at the funeral "he was a good friend, a good teacher, and a mirror of truth. I will never forgive you for leaving on your own" as a guide for his reverent and bitter sorrow about V. The usage of mirrors in his dialogues was also inspired by this.

I reflected on why Jumin directs all his resentment to V when Rika did even worse things, which isn't a very rational thing to do unlike what he believes, until it occurred to me that it's normal. Grief doesn't make sense. His emotions are bound to be all over the place when he just lost his closest friend whether he realises it or not.

Actually, I added Jumin and MC's argument during the later edits and it just felt right. We know Jumin is capable of outbursts when he's anxious, like when he confronts V on Jaehee's route or when he slams his hand against the wall to trap MC on his.

Jumin may think that as a kid, he was the one who followed V everywhere, but I think V would disagree. V craved friends and expressed it more than him. It was V who asked for the friendship deal after all.

Jumin tends to use metaphors i.e. the analogy of Yoosung watching V painstakingly pick apples and the concept of his dark threads, so I thought it wouldn't be OOC if he came up with the rock bottom and book-in-mirror metaphors. And, this man had been friends with V for decades—their linguistic choices were bound to seep into each other's to some degree.

The reincarnation idea came from the reincarnation trope in kdramas! I think Jumin, an avid soap opera/drama watcher, would find it fascinating.

Header Corner:

I caved. I've never put this much effort into a header. I wanted to find the balance between the raw grief and Jumin's modern sophistication, hence the strong gradients and sleek font. The movement is minimal, the text is small, the vast space is hollow, and the music is stripped down to 2 simple chords, all to instil the emptiness that Jumin feels.

The colours have double meanings: blue for the sea / deep sadness, and orange for the sunset / bitter anger and intense concern.

When the scene opens, the orange and blue lights take up the space, slightly touching before they part. It's Jumin's denial of V being dead, still calling for him while being anxious and miserable. Then the realisation sets in. Orange shifts to red in Jumin's stubborn refusal to forgive while blue disappears to make way for the dark, engulfing isolation.

Here are some alternative style frames before I decided on the current one!

Music credit: Sad Piano Music (no copyright) by Tushar Sharma

Buy me a glass of something that's definitely not coffee because I can't stand it but it is the website's name if my story touches you in some way? No worries if you don't. I'm still grateful you've read all the way through here.

#i've wanted to write about this since 2016 but didn't know how to approach it and do it justice until now #xela writes #jumin x mc #mystic messenger #jumin han #mystic messenger fanfic #jumin han angst #mysme #jumin han fic

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cease-your-release · 2 months

Text

Little Dog (Fluff ver)

After a long day of work, and with absolutely no time to see each other throughout, Copia gets a little distracted once you're back in his arms.

Content warning(s): Copia is compared to a dog, he licks the reader's behind.........

Haiiii I'm back from my little hiatus! I've had some brain rot thanks to an artist on X depicting Copia doing puppy-play, that doesn't totally happen here but it definitely has influence.Hope you like!

Also on A03!

Smut version

You and your partner, the esteemed cardinal of your ministry, Copia, are dutifully working at your respective jobs, and due to that, being separated the entire day. Not a single lunch break, passing waves in the halls, nothing.

Hours later, the end of the day comes, and the both of you meet back in your room. The two of you shed your uniforms, and you are about to put something more comfortable on when you feel a pair of hands on your waist, as Copia walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your torso. His face is hidden in the curve of your neck as he presses a kiss to it. "I missed you..." There's just something about him right now that's completely and utterly smitten with you. The feeling of you in his arms, your back flush against his body... it's all too good. He's lost in your presence - even when he's trying his best not to be a mess about it.

A shiver runs down your spine at his touches, ending in a shaky sigh. “I know, sweet boy, so did I.” You slide your hands down to rest over his own where they are on your body, and you caress the back of his palms with your thumbs. “You’re very gentle, did you know that? You treat me like glass.”

Copia lets out a small noise, leaning into your touch and savoring the sensation. His cheeks flush with this new level of closeness with you. He is just so vulnerable around you. He's not used to being treated with such delicate care, but he absolutely adores it. "That's the idea." He murmurs, his heart fluttering at you and the gentle way you're touching him. "You're so precious to me... I don't want to hurt you..."

“I’m okay, baby.” you mutter in response, and guide his hands a little more firmly against you. “If you'd prefer to be softer, that’s fine, I like that too, I just don’t want you to hold back on my accord.” is your addition, not breaking your gaze from his own behind you.

He nods and presses himself into you just a bit more, letting you feel his warm, soft body. With you being so comfortable with his more intense touch, your words and actions giving him the green light, he's all over you. "I like it when you call me that." Copia’s voice is warm and the nervous blush is starting to die down - he's getting used to this.

A faint gasp comes from you involuntarily at the suddenness of his grasp, his hands moving around your frame fervently. “I know, I see how you react to it.. it’s very cute.” But words fail a moment later when you feel his hands reach a particularly tense area of your shoulder. In any case, it feels good, and you can’t help a few quiet noises.

He chuckles at your hums and sighs, glad to be helping relieve you. His touch, the little kisses, the sounds you're making... it all has him on a whole new level of infatuation with you. His hands go from gently holding you to squeezing you tightly, grasping you around your middle and carefully, but with haste, bringing you down onto his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed.

You go where he guides with no resistance, only reaching up to grasp the bedpost for support.

He buries his face into your neck and begins moving his hands up and down with more purpose, effectively massaging you as they explore.

“That’s good, baby, just like that…” You groan out, your head falling back against his shoulder. You can feel his movements getting a bit more intense, and the way his face is nuzzling into you tells you everything that you need to know.

Copia kisses your neck ever so softly, not wanting to turn this into something else, just show you his appreciation in every way possible. His hand finds its way across your thigh and moves up, where it then takes a handful of the supple flesh of your ass. "Your little noises... my god, I must be doing well.” He hums, burying his face deeper in your neck.

You gasp, which turns into a trembling exhale at the various sensations. The massage was one thing, but his thinly veiled worship and cheeky grope have you melting. You whine, then turn your head to press your lips to his neck in return, your breath heavy and warm against his skin as you relax. “Good boy.”

He is so far gone at this point, he's not even trying to retain his composure. “Ti senti così bene…” He tilts his head so that you can kiss his warm flesh more and uses his free hand to knead your hip, holding you tighter. His actions take on a slightly different tone now, muttering sweet nothings in Italian.

You smile when you notice the shift in him.

Several minutes pass and you notice he doesn’t show any signs of stopping. You don’t say anything, only sit there and caress his hair where his head rests on your shoulder, gently getting his attention and waiting for him to notice.

Copia blinks out of the trance and blushes, mortified. He's almost frozen in embarrassment as he tries to process the fact that he, well, he lost himself in you. He tries to calm himself down, sitting up properly and putting his hands on the side of his thighs. They're shaking, and Copia sucks in a breath. "Cazzo! M-Mi dispiace, I-" He's at a loss for words. He just looks at you, hoping you aren't upset with him.

You cut his apology off with a soft, tender kiss. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll take that as a compliment, hm?” Is your response, followed by a chuckle. “You’re adorable, sweet thing.”

Your kiss makes his legs wobble even more. He leans forward and wraps his arms around your waist, trying to compose himself. You're too kind to him right now, he doesn't think he can even handle your compliments while his heart is still racing. "I'm not adorable." A little blush comes to Copia's cheeks as his gaze falls to the floor. No, he's not adorable at all. "I'm just a... a-"

“What, an airhead with a worship kink?” Your soft expression and tone turn into teasing ones, and you tilt your head at him with a grin. “Like I said, it’s cute. You’re like… a little dog happy to see it’s human after a long day alone.” You say with a giggle, caressing his cheek with one hand.

His face turns a deep shade of red, his head bowing to stare down at his lap, at you still sitting on it. Your comparison is accurate; the thought of him being like an excited dog just makes him so embarrassed. But he leans into your touch as you caress his face. "Amore..." His voice has reduced itself to barely a whisper. He sounds so... vulnerable.

Your playfulness comes to a halt at the sound of his voice, and you lean in to mutter a response. “Yes, Copia?” You ask softly, making sure to look him directly in the eye. Your gaze is as sweet as your voice, lips parted and eyes half-lidded.

He swears he can hear his own heartbeat as it thunders loudly in his ears. Your words, your touch... they make him want to crawl into his own skin and hide. Your gaze is like poison and he swallows thickly as he looks right back at you, his expression a combination of shy and sweet. "You're making me, eh… flustered." He admits quietly in return, his eyes closed tight as if to block out the sight of your love because it's too much for him to handle.

You bite your lip and smile at the look on his face, his flush already told you that. “I know, I can see it.” Then you suddenly stand up, your behind in full view. “Let’s go clean up and we’ll cuddle in bed, alright?”

The feeling of your warmth leaving him makes Copia open his eyes, and his breath hitches at the sight of you. He could never deny how perfect your body is, but seeing your behind like that makes his stomach flip. His hands reach out to cup your ass without really being aware of what he's doing, which causes you to gasp and look over your shoulder at him.

He nods in response to your question, not even bothering to try and tear his gaze away from the view before him. His gaze is firmly fixated on you as he takes it all in. "Yes... yes, let's take a shower. I don't care how long that takes, I could just look at you all day."

“You like what you see, I take it?” You ask playfully, then wiggle your hips a little in his grasp. “Hm, puppy?”

He bites his lip, trying to form words but failing at it entirely. When you move, those gorgeous hips and bottom come closer to his face. "If... if you call me that again, I..." He sighs, not even knowing what himself. The words wouldn't even be coherent with how he's practically drooling over you. He leans in and nuzzles one of your cheeks as he hums. It's a very sensitive area for him and seeing your ass so close... yes, Copia likes what he sees very, very much.

Your confidence slips at that, eyes widening and mouth falling open in shock- and partially amusement. “Copia, that’s-” You try to say something, but of course, it’s too late. You bite your lip and watch it happen, the sight being surprisingly attractive as you find your face getting that much warmer.

He looks up at you with a sly grin as his tongue comes out to lick your skin, loving the surprise on your face. Your body is so perfect that he can't resist touching it, eating it up with his eyes and tongue. "I can’t help it, tesoro…” He watches you with adoration as he does, Copia is all yours at this point in time. He doesn't mind. He just wants more of you.

Your breath hitches and you tense up, a few quiet giggles escaping you at the feeling and image of him nuzzling and licking your ass. “Copia!” You say with a laugh, white-knuckling the bedpost and subconsciously, slightly leaning yourself against him.

Copia grins at how you hold onto the frame as if you might fall, because you're in his arms, and it's the safest place you could ever be. He lets out a low chuckle, that name making him ache with how many butterflies it gives him. He hums and takes your cheek with his tongue and lips, rubbing his face against you until he’s satisfied with the work.

You taste delicious, and Copia can't wait to have you again.

"Ti senti così bene…" ~ "You feel so good..."

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