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xxspringmelodyxx · 9 months

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Betrayal~

Hello my lovely readers! This story takes place way back before the Archons battle, when Guizhong was alive. The day is your birthday and you were so excited to see Morax, hoping it would be just you two…however, this was not the case. And it potentially could end up terribly. So have fun with that! Sorry if it feels a little fast paced, its a wee bit late where I am and I want to go to bed, but I was afraid I would forget this story tomorrow. Anyways, enjoy~<333333 Part II

I walked down my usual path surrounded by rocks and vegetation, enjoying the fresh smell of gardenia flowers surrounding the area.

Some of the people I passed by wished me a happy birthday, to which I thanked them. With every step I took, my excitement increased as today was the day I got to see Morax again. He had asked me to take a walk with him so we could spend some time together. You figured it was a little gift for your birthday, which was more than enough for you. Seeing him meant everything to you, especially his smile.

I looked over and noticed a small flower was slowly wilting. I looked above it and saw that it was hidden under a rock, making it impossible for the poor thing to get any water or sunlight. I quickly walked over to it and placed my hand on it, bringing it back to life, showing a vibrant lavender color. I then moved my hand away, letting the flower head follow me. I elongated it just enough so that it was outside of the rock, allowing it to get proper sunlight.

However, that was when I realized it still needed water to live, to which it would get none due to the rock covering it. I huffed as I realized it would be hard to help the poor thing.

I looked up at the boulder, seeing the size of it. In my head, it didn’t look too bad to move. I may have to use a bunch of my energy, but it would be worth it. I got up and walked to the boulder, placing my hands on it. I began to push, using my legs to push into the ground. I tried so very hard to move it out of the way, but no matter what I tried, I couldn’t get it.

I let go of the rock, crossing my arms in frustration.

“Stupid rock anyways.” I said.

Then, out of nowhere, the boulder began to shake, causing the whole ground to shake. I looked up to see the rock slowly rise up, making me slightly gasp. The ground began to shake harder, causing me to lose my footing and falling over.

A small yelp came out of my mouth, expecting to feel the cold, hard ground hit my back.

But it never came. Instead, I felt an arm wrap around my waist, hoisting me back up into their chest. I looked up and saw none other than Morax himself. My heart almost leaped out of my chest as I saw him, seeing his intense stare as he moved the rock out of the way. He placed the rock far away so it wouldn’t cover any other plants, allowing all of them to get the proper sunlight and water they needed when it came. He then looked down at me after dropping the rock, smirking at me.

“Did you really try and move a boulder just so you could save a flower?” He asked with amusement. Your face heated up as you felt embarrassed. You shoved him playfully, telling him to shut up.

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed. I thought it was cute. But you would have never been able to lift or move that rock by yourself.” He teased

You glared at him.

“I'll have you know that I was making progress! In fact, the only reason you were able to lift the boulder up in the first place was because of me loosening it up for you.” You spoke back.

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair, turning on his heel.

“Let’s go.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you towards him. Your stomach turned, butterflies going throughout your stomach.

–

“So where are we walking to?” You asked.

“We are going to see Guizhong.” he said, making me stop.

“I thought it was just going to be me and you today.” You said, not liking the fact that he was going to see her.

“It will be while we walk to her place. Then I thought we could hang out together. It will be a fun time, don’t you think?” He asked.

You hesitated a bit, knowing good and well that he wouldn’t take any time to talk to you once he sees her. It has been going on like this for some time now, almost 2 years to be exact. He would ask you to be with him for ‘alone’ time, but in reality, he just wanted to talk to you before he got to Guizhong so he could get all of his nerves out. Then, once he sees her, it's like you don’t exist to him anymore.

“I guess.” You replied quietly, continuing to walk with him. Your heart began to hurt as you walked closer and closer to Guizhongs place. You knew she was in love with him as well, but a part of you had hoped that Morax would fall in love with you instead. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that it’s going that way at all.

“So, what were you thinking we all do?” You asked, your voice sounding more down than usual, but Morax never noticed. He was too excited to see Guizhong that he barely paid attention to you, once again.

“Morax?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, did you say something?” He asked

“I asked what we were going to do.” You said again

“Oh! Well I was thinking we could all go out by the pond and have a nice picnic. Guizhong made the food, so all we have to do is get there right before the sun goes down.”

“Okay, that actually doesn't seem bad.” You said, making him smile down at you.

–

It took you guys a good 10 minutes to get to Guizhongs place. During that time, you both talked to each other continuously about the randomest things. Morax laughed with you multiple times, making your mind go crazy. However, the smile that was once plastered on your face was soon wiped off once you saw Guizhong come out. She smiled at Morax and hugged him. You looked up and saw Morax blush as he held her tightly, breaking you more and more.

What’s worse is that he hasn’t said anything about your birthday yet…did he forget?

You were starting to doubt him as he began to ignore you. He took Guizhongs hand in his and they walked together, leaving you behind. You sighed as you treaded slowly behind them.

You watched them giggle with each other, seeing Morax wrap his arm around her, pulling her in. Just like he did with you.

You were so confused. When you were alone with him, it's like you were his world…but then when she arrived, it's like he didn’t even know you. You looked down at your feet, trying to hide your tears. Every now and then, a single tear drop would fall and touch the ground beneath you. The plants that were touched by the tear slowly wilted and died, but you didn’t do anything to fix it. If you tried, it would just happen again in another area.

“Ah! We are here!” Morax said as he quickly sat down with Guizhong. She got the food out and placed them out nicely.

You looked down and realized it was all food that you couldn’t eat. They were all made with a specific ingredient that could kill you due to a stupid allergy you had.

The two began to eat, enjoying the delicious food. Morax took notice of you not eating and spoke

“Come on, Y/n. The food is really good!” He said

“Morax, I can’t eat any of that. It has Mericila in it. You should know that.” You replied. Mericila was an ingredient that was very abundant in these types of areas. It comes from a Mericila root. The root itself won’t hurt you, it’ll just make you sneeze or cough. But once the liquidy substance is extracted, that’s when it can be bad news for you. It runs throughout your whole family.

“Oh…I’m sorry, Y/n. I totally forgot you couldn’t eat it.” Guizhong said in a fake tone. You gritted your teeth as you tried your best to hold back, knowing fully well that she knew of your weakness.

“It’s fine. I just won’t eat.” You said, putting your knees up to your chest. There was a good distance between you and Morax, almost 5 feet.

–

Hours passed, and you have yet to say a word. Morax was too occupied with Guizhong to notice, which just made you more frustrated. You couldn’t stand for this anymore, you wouldn’t stand for this. He keeps playing with your feelings and it's making you angry.

The grass around you began to fade into a blackish color, slowly wilting away. That was when Morax noticed and scooted over to you, smiling wide and everything. If you weren’t mad at him, you would’ve thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. “Hey, what's wrong?” He asked, placing his hand in yours. Usually, you would hold onto his hand, expressing to him what was bothering you. But that was only because it wasn’t about him. This time, it was. You then shocked Morax when you quickly jerked your hand away from him, concerning him.

“Y/n?” His voice was no longer in his happy tone, and his smile faded away as he saw you weren’t acting like your usual self.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” You said in a monotone voice.

“Obviously you’re not. The plants around you are dying, and that only happens when you aren’t feeling good.” He said, following the wilted areas. He saw that there were little circular patches of dead plants farther back from where you guys were walking. He then looked back at you and saw that your cheeks were stained with tears, alerting him. He grabbed your face, wiping them away.

“Y/n?! Talk to me! What’s wrong?” He asked with worry.

Again, you just pushed him away from you. You then stood up and began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” He called out to you.

“I’m going home.” You said as you walked away from them, each step causing the plants to die. Morax quickly got up and ran after you.

“Y/n wait!” He yelled out, catching up to you.

When you weren’t stopping, he ran faster and grabbed your wrist, turning you around to look at him.

That’s when he saw you full on crying.

“Y/n, please. Tell me what's wrong!” He begged, grabbing your face.

Guizhong’s eyes followed Morax, seeing him hold you close. She grimaced as she saw how close you two were.

You pushed him away.

“Go away. Go back to Guizhong. That’s who you’re more excited to see anyways.” You said

He looked at you confused, not understanding what you were going on about.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on Morax. I know you only wanted to be with her, but you didn’t want me to feel left out. Well guess what, I always feel left out! Every time you see Guizhong, it’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore. Like I’m nothing but air.”

“Y/n, that’s not true, I like you too-”

“Yes but not in the way you like Guizhong!” You interrupted, making him shut up.

There was a slight pause between the both of you, but you managed to gain the courage to speak up.

“I’m gonna tell you something right now, and after I do, I want you to make a choice.” You said, making him look up at you.

“For years, I have loved you. Not just in a platonic way…in a romantic way. I have known you much longer than her…I have always been by your side…yet one day she shows up and you have never looked at me the same.” You confessed, shocking Morax.

“Every day that went by, there wasn’t a single one where I didn’t think of you. Every night, I prayed that I could get the courage to finally admit how I feel to you, but when I was finally ready, it was all ruined once I saw you with her. I see the way you look at her. You’re completely infatuated with her. But then you go on and do these things to me that are so sweet and full of love when she’s not around. It’s like you are playing with my feelings!” You said

“Y/n, I never meant to hurt you…and I never wanted to play with your feelings.”

“Then make your choice! I can’t keep going on like this. Pretending that everything is okay. Pretending that I don’t love you. I can’t keep letting you hurt me like this.”

“What are you saying?” He asked

“I”m asking you to make your choice! Who do you love more? Because you can’t love both of us…it would just cause chaos.” You replied

“Please, don’t make me choose between you and her.” He begged, guilt filling him up.

“Why? Because you’ll choose her?” You asked, your heart crying out, hoping he would say the opposite.

A long silence went between you two, the wind being the only sound that was heard.

“Yeah…because I’ll choose her.” He said, his anger getting the better of him.

Your eyes widened as tears fell down them. Your breath hitched at his words. You knew it would come, you just weren’t ready for it yet.

Morax’s eyes widened as well, not meaning a word he said.

“Y/n, I-”

“Save it. I guess all those years mean nothing to you. What a wonderful birthday gift. I’ll never forget it.” You said as you turned and ran away.

Morax’s eyes widened as he finally realized what day it was today, The day you were born.

He tried to run after you, but you raised your hand up. Within an instant, a fresh and strong wall made out of tree bark formed in front of him, blocking him and forcing him to stay back. No matter where he ran to, a new wall would be created, making it impossible for him to run to you.

He made his decision, and that was all you needed.

–

You ran into the middle of a forest, knowing no one would be able to find you. You cried and cried, not caring about the plants dying next to you. Small little creatures ran up to you, rubbing their bodies against you to help calm you down. However, as they did, they started to cry out in pain, alerting you. You quickly wiped your tears away and apologized, helping them back to their normal health.

You then placed your hand on the plants and healed them, making them come back to life.

A small bunny nuzzled its nose on your leg, cuddling up to you. You chuckled sadly, grabbing the small creature. You held it close and enjoyed the warm and fuzzy feeling.

You placed your hand on its back and began to pet it, feeling yourself calm down. However, as you were doing that, you saw the bracelet Morax had gotten you for your birthday two years ago. It was to signify your friendship, and you have had it on ever since.

You grabbed it with your other hand and slowly slipped it off, your heart slowly breaking as you felt the strange emptiness on your wrist.

You stared at the bracelet with pain, reminiscing on all your guys’ old memories.

He no longer needed you anymore. You guys couldn’t be friends anymore, not after that. Ugh, you felt so stupid. You should’ve just kept your feelings to yourself. At least you and him would still be friends. But then again, it would just hurt you more and more every time you saw him with Guizhong.

But no matter, what’s done is done. You can’t go back. There is nothing left in that relationship anymore. It’s over.

You took the bracelet and threw it far away, knowing that if you kept it, it would just bring bad memories now.

You looked down at the bunny in your hands, smiling sadly at it.

“I guess it’s just you guys and me, huh little guy?” You said, talking about the creatures of all shapes and sizes that surrounded you.

Morax was the only person who truly understood you. Every other archon thought that you were nothing but a weak archon. A girl who can’t rule over people. But that was something you never wanted to do. You never wanted to control anyone. All you wanted was to be seen as their equal. You didn’t want to be seen as a scary and powerful archon. But you also didn’t want to be seen as weak. That’s why you never got along with the other archons, only the citizens. But even then, you could never quite get close to the citizens due to them thinking you were superior over them. They treated you differently and that is what separated you from them.

But Morax, he treated you like he truly loved you…until now.

Maybe you were wrong about him. Maybe he only treated you that way because you were the only person who stood by him no matter what….but now that Guizhong is in the picture, an archon that is also powerful…and more beautiful as other archons would say, maybe he started to change his view of you.

Suddenly, you felt weird. It was something you weren’t used to.

You didn’t feel anything.

You didn’t feel sad, angry, regret, love, nothing. You felt…empty once you came to your own reality.

All you had was yourself, no one else. You couldn’t rely on anyone anymore.

And that was what flipped your switch from being a sweet and innocent girl, to one who didn’t have a care in the world anymore. A girl who did what she wanted, no matter what anyone else thought.

–

Months had passed and Morax still hadn’t heard anything from you. He felt horrible and the guilt wouldn’t stop building inside of him. He still can’t believe what he said to you. It was just his anger getting the best of him…letting it choose for him.

Of course he loved you. But he thought you never loved him that way, hence why he kept trying to see Guizhong. He was hoping she could help get rid of his feelings for you…but no matter what, he couldn’t get you off of his mind.

That was until you confessed to him a few months back, changing him entirely. He wanted to confess to you, tell him that he loves you just as much, if not more. But once you made him choose….its like he wasn’t himself. And now, because of that, you were long gone. He hates himself because of it and just wishes he could go back in time to fix everything. What’s worse is that no one has seen you, not even the citizens who you loved talking to.

Guizhong would try and comfort him, but it never worked. She would try and distract him, but every little thing he saw reminded him of you.

Now every night, he cries himself to sleep, praying that one day, he would get to see you once more and apologize. The guilt was eating him up and he wasn’t sure what he would do if he couldn’t see you once more. He just wanted to fix everything.

But little did he know that once he did find you, it would be the last.

_____________

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hotchaways · 2 years

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Signs of Love

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

summary: During your special day with Aaron, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the small moments that led up to the day he finally got to call you his wife.

content: Fluffy lovesick Aaron with reader, Haley’s not dead in this fic, mentions of BAU team (yes, I’m including Gideon and Elle in this), B99 reference if you squint, mushy lovey dovey couple

word count: 4.9k

A/N: i am finally back! with a fic for all of my lovely hotch girls! honestly, this was such a joy to write- as a hopeless romantic, you bet that this got me yearning so bad. but, i hope all of you love it as much as i enjoyed writing it :) let me know what you think!

ps. italics are flashbacks :)

When Haley served Aaron with divorce papers, he tried to come to terms with the fact that he may not have a second chance at love. At least, that’s what he thought until you came knocking on his door to introduce yourself as the new agent that Erin Strauss had hired. He didn’t know that a few years later, he would be standing in front of you at the altar to exchange your vows to promise your unending love for each other.

Aaron couldn’t help but think that his life was finally falling back into place- he had you, the woman who he thought was the walking definition of his soulmate, the woman who loved Jack just like her own, and the woman who he found solace in.

Today was the perfect day- well, Aaron would say that it would be his favorite day just next to the day that Jack was born. Everything seemed as if it jumped out of a Disney film. You wanted a traditional church wedding, you said that it reminded you of the films that you’ve seen growing up- Aaron granted your wish. It wasn’t a big, white wedding. In fact, it was blooming with various flowers that ranged from all the colors- but, Aaron still thought you were the most beautiful one out there, especially in your wedding dress.

“You okay, baby?” You smiled and gently placed your hand on his cheek as you sat down next to him at the reception, “You seem to be deep in thought.”

“Just thinking about how lucky I got, Mrs. Hotchner,” Aaron mumbled with a smile and kissed your palm, “And how I can finally call you my wife.”

You laughed softly and rubbed your thumb against his cheek, “And I can say the same about you, Aaron. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to call you my husband.”

Aaron grinned before leaning in to kiss you on the lips and pulled away a few moments later to lean his forehead against yours, “You think so?”

Scrunching your nose at him and smiling, “I know so, Mr. Hotchner.”

The two of you smiled at each other as if you were the only people in the world. Aaron didn’t know but you secretly thanked the stars every night before the two of you went to sleep just because you were grateful that your paths crossed.

“Bridesmaids and maid of honor need Mrs. Hotchner for a moment!” Penelope grinned as she grabbed onto your hand and pulled you to the table where JJ and Emily sat, “We’ll be back! Thank you, sir Hotch!”

You laughed as you were being dragged away and blew a kiss towards Aaron and mouthed a quick ‘I love you’. Aaron smiled as he shook his head at the antics of the team and watched as you happily chatted away with the girls and twirled to show your dress to them.

Aaron looked around the reception with a small smile on his face, it wasn’t extravagant- the two of you just wanted your loved ones to be present at your special day. Haley and Jess were laughing as Spencer tried to distract Jack and Henry with the new tricks he’s learned for them. Derek was smiling as he catched up with Elle, and Dave shared a drink with his old friend, Jason.

Looking down on the silver band on his finger, Aaron couldn’t help but reminisce about the small moments when he knew he loved you.

As far as Aaron knew, he hated traffic as much as anyone else. He hated the way cars impatiently honked at one another even if they knew it would contribute to absolutely nothing to get the cars moving.

“You know I wouldn’t be surprised if you left a dent on the steering wheel from how hard you’re gripping it right now, Hotch,” You looked at him with a small smile, “Relax, traffic isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad?” Aaron scoffed as he let go of the steering wheel and cracked his fingers, “It’s the worst thing in the world. It consumes too much of the time left in a day.”

“Well, now, you’re being a total grump,” You frowned at him as you leaned back against your seat, “You should be grateful I accompanied you because the doctor advised no flying for you yet.”

“It’s just- I’m sorry, (Y/L/N),” He sighed and ran a hand down his face out of frustration, “It’s just the honking is so irritating. Don’t you think so?”

“Okay, you do have a point there,” You shrugged as you looked out the car window and followed the rain drops falling down from the glass, “It is irritating when cars keep honking, the owners need a smack on the head for some logic because it doesn’t contribute to making the traffic move any faster.”

“I’m glad you see my point,” Aaron mumbled as he mindlessly tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, “Are you cold?”

Smiling sheepishly at Aaron, you hesitantly shook your head, “No, it’s fine. I mean it isn’t that cold.”

“You’ve got goosebumps on your skin, (Y/L/N),” Aaron chuckled lightly as he reached over to the back and grabbed one of his quarter zips and handed it to you, “Here, I don’t mind letting you borrow it.”

“Oh no, it’s okay!” You waved your hands and smiled, “You use it instead! You must be cold.”

“You have a boyfriend that wouldn’t be happy if he smelled another man’s cologne on you?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and crossed your arms, “No, I don’t even have a boyfriend to begin with.”

“Then why won’t you wear it? You’re clearly cold whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll wear it,” You groaned as you wore his quarter zip that was a little too big on you, “There, you happy?”

“Very much so. It’s amusing as to how small you are,” Aaron grinned until you punched him lightly on the arm, “I’m only kidding! You’re fun sized.”

“And you’re grumpy sized,” You poked your tongue out at him, “Can I turn on the radio? Just thought that maybe it could drown out the honking for you.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’m curious about your music taste.”

“I have spectacular taste in music, for your information,” You grinned as you leaned over to turn on the radio and find a station that struck a chord until you heard the opening notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, “Oh my god, I love this song!”

Aaron turned to you and smiled, “You like Fleetwood Mac?”

“Like? I absolutely love them!” You squealed as you grabbed your water bottle to sing along, “Can you hear me calling out your name? You know that I’m falling and I don’t know what to say.”

Aaron chuckled as he pulled out his phone, “I’m going to record this to show Garcia you cheated on your karaoke night with the girls.”

“I don’t care, I’m in my element,” You grinned as you pointed at Aaron to sing the chorus of the song, “This isn’t blackmail if I’m enjoying it.”

Aaron shook his head with a laugh as he set his phone down to take in the sight before him- you letting loose to your favorite song in something he hates the most, traffic. But maybe, he wouldn’t mind getting stuck in traffic if he gets to have you in the passenger seat. Maybe, he does resonate with the song. Aaron felt his stomach do a flip, but he dismissed it- he doesn’t think it’s love. But, that’s just what he tries to convince himself.

II.

Aaron groaned as he stretched out his legs to take a break from the endless paperwork he’s been going through since he entered the doors of the BAU. Checking the time on his watch, he sighed and realized it was past 9 pm, but what shocked him even more was that he wasn’t alone in the office at this time. You were slumped over your desk with the little light being some sort of message to tell him that ‘I’m here’ if he wanted your presence around.

Making his way to your desk, he gently placed a hand on your shoulder to avoid startling you. He didn’t want to disturb how peaceful you looked, but he was certain that your neck would ache from the uncomfortable position that you were in, “(Y/L/N)...wake up.”

You stirred lightly before slowly blinking your eyes and rubbing it sleepily, “Huh? What time is it?”

“It’s past 9 pm,” Aaron mumbled as he leaned against your desk, “What are you still doing here? It’s not like you to stay behind after hours.”

“Just wanted to see if you needed any company,” You mumbled as you sat up and stretched your arms out, “Are you done with your paperwork?”

Aaron hesitated for a moment and smiled softly, “Yeah, I’m done with my paperwork. Are you?”

“Yeah, I finished them before I fell asleep,” You smiled sleepily and gathered your things before putting them in your bag, “Are you going home now?”

“Actually, I was going to grab some dinner,” Aaron looked down at you, “Do you want to tag along? I don’t mind the company.”

“That’d be great,” You smiled up at him as your stomach grumbled and chuckled, “I didn’t get the chance to eat since I was completely knocked out.”

Aaron nodded and smiled, “Let me just grab my things, give me a minute.”

Walking back to the office to gather his things, he chuckled at the sight of his paperwork being left alone just so he could grab a late dinner with you. He didn’t mind that though. Dave scolded him every time he holed himself up in the office to finish up, he said, ‘Aaron, you’re missing out on many things in life.’ Maybe, he wouldn’t miss out on you this time. Looking out the window of his office, you looked like an angel from the way the light shone on you- especially, when you let your hair down. Aaron felt his heart beat faster at the sight, but he tried to think of other things to calm himself.

“So, what’d you have in mind for dinner?” Aaron asked as the two of you walked to the elevator, “My treat.”

You grinned as you teased him and nudged his shoulder, “What a gentleman. Is this a date?”

“Just answer the question,” Aaron chuckled as he shook his head and put a hand on your back as you walked out of the elevator, “Don’t worry about the subway, I’ll drive you home.”

“Not to be unhealthy but, I’m kinda craving for some McDonalds,” You laughed as you got inside Aaron’s car, “Just some plain old burger and fries would be fine.”

“Then we’ll get you some McDonalds,” Aaron turned to smile at you as he drove out of the parking lot and to the nearest McDonalds, “You can come in to work an hour late tomorrow. I feel bad that you had to wait for me.”

“It’s fine, Hotch,” You smiled at him as you fumbled with your coat, “Completely my decision, y’know? I mean, I’ve got a free meal from you.”

Aaron laughed as he shook his head and maneuvered his car to the McDonalds drive-thru and mentioned your orders to the cashier, and handed over your food as he started driving to your apartment, “Eat up, I’ll eat mine when I get home.”

“It’s okay, I don’t want to make a mess in your car,” You laughed as you looked over at him under the street lights shining on his face, “Jack with you tonight?”

“Yeah, Jess told me he’s waiting for me,” Aaron replied with a small smile on his face, “Promised that I’d read him a story tonight.”

“Well then, it’s good that you finished your paperwork tonight,” You smiled as he pulled up to your apartment, “Thanks for the food and the ride, Hotch.”

“No problem, (Y/L/N). Thank you for waiting for me, too.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you got out of the car and started walking towards your apartment. Aaron rolled his window down and called out, “Hey, (Y/L/N)!”

You turned around with a smile and tilted your head slightly, “Yeah?”

“It’s a date, by the way,” Aaron called out with a smile as you blushed in response, “I’ll take you out to a nicer place next time.”

Standing there with a big smile on your face, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Agent Hotchner. Get home to Jack.”

Aaron waved you goodbye as he waited for you to enter your apartment before driving off, feeling his heart beat faster from the adrenaline of the impulsiveness of his actions. He doesn’t regret it though, he had to stop beating around the bush and he found the perfect opportunity when you teased him. Although he only held onto Dave and Derek teasing about the possibility of you garnering a crush on him, he didn’t know that you hurriedly called JJ to squeal about your excitement from what just happened. But, your text confirmed that you did feel the same way about him.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): If you were actually serious, I wouldn’t mind eating McDonalds again. Anywhere would be great as long as I’m with you. Goodnight, Hotch :)

III.

It’s been a few months since Aaron asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t long until he told you that he’d love you to meet Jack, which definitely got on your nerves because what if he didn’t like you? Aaron reassured you that his son would like you as much as he did. He wanted to say love- but, he thought that it was too soon.

When Aaron introduced you to Jack, the two of you immediately hit it off. Jack wanted to show you his Captain America pajamas, his LEGOs, and even asked you to build some with him. It wasn’t until Jack asked you to come to his soccer games, but unfortunately, you were busy that time, which caused the little Hotchner to sulk.

“Hey, buddy, what’s wrong?” Aaron frowned as he gently combed Jack’s hair back and wiped the sweat off his face, “You’re doing a great job.”

“I just…I really wanted (Y/N) to be here,” Jack mumbled as he looked down at his feet, “I wanted her to see me play.”

Aaron sighed as he brought his son in for a hug, “I want her to be with us here too, buddy. But, she promised she’ll see you at your next game, remember?”

“Yeah…” Jack mumbled against Aaron’s neck, “ Can we call her tonight?”

“Of course, buddy,” Aaron smiled softly as he patted his son’s back, “Now, why don’t you play your best for (Y/N) and I?”

Jack pulled away and nodded eagerly as he ran back to his teammates to play the next game. Aaron’s phone rang and immediately picked it up as soon as he saw your name on the caller ID, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi, love,” You tried your best to keep yourself from laughing through the phone, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hm, what is that?”

“How do you look good in a plain, gray shirt?”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” Aaron mumbled through the phone as he turned around to try and find you, “Are you here at the soccer field? How do you know what I’m wearing?”

“You know, I can see you right now. Looking all cute with your furrowed eyebrows,” You laughed as you took off your hoodie and sunglasses, “See me now?”

Aaron grinned as he hung up the call put his phone back in his pocket and made his way to you, pulling you in a hug, “I thought you had some errands to do?”

“Canceled them all,” You grinned up and wrapped your arms around his neck, “Just wanted to surprise Jack at his game today.”

“He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, huh?” Aaron chuckled as he settled his hands on your waist, “He was really sulky just now, though.”

“God, I hate seeing him all sad,” You sighed as you pulled away from the hug and pulled out a handwritten banner with ‘Go Jack Hotchner’ written on it and drew his favorite superheroes all over, “That’s why I made this for him.”

Aaron smiled as he kissed you softly, “He’s going to love it, sweetheart. C’mon, he’s still playing now.”

As the two of you made your way back to where Aaron was previously located, Jack hadn’t noticed your presence until you started cheering for him loudly with the banner held up high, “That’s our star player! Jack Hotchner!”

Jack immediately perked up as he spotted you and had the biggest smile on his face while he waved at you, “(Y/N), you made it!”

“Go, Jack, go!” You cheered as he scored another goal for his team, “Let’s go Jack Hotchner!”

When the referee announced Jack’s team to be the winner, he ran as quickly as his little legs were able to and tackled you in a hug, “(Y/N)! You came! You’re here!”

“Of course, I’m here,” You grinned as you wrapped your arms around him and carried him, “How could I ever miss it, buddy?”

“You said you were busy today,” Jack mumbled against your neck as he wrapped his arms around your neck, “But, I’m really happy you saw me play, (Y/N).”

“And, I’ll cancel my plans for you anytime as long as I’m able to, Jack,” You smiled and kissed the side of his head, “You did great today. Our little star player.”

Aaron watched the two of you with a fond smile on his face and brought you in a hug, “Guess we’re both happy today, aren’t we, Jack?”

“Very happy, daddy!” Jack grinned as he put his arm around Aaron and pulled you both closer towards his cheeks, “Love you, (Y/N) and daddy.”

“Love you, Jackers,” You chuckled as he kissed your cheek, “Do you want some ice cream over there?”

Jack nodded eagerly as he looked over at Aaron for his go signal, which he happily received, “What kind of ice cream do you like, (Y/N)? I like cookies and cream!”

“Well, for starters, I like bubblegum,” You smiled at Jack as the two of you walked over to the ice cream truck, “But, any flavor is fine by me.”

Aaron started packing Jack’s things back in his duffle bag with a smile, he was happy as to how you and Jack got along so well together- just like two peas in a pod.

“You’ve got a lovely wife there, son,” An elderly man smiled at Aaron as he held on to his grandson’s hand, “Jack’s mentioned him a few times to my grandson, Trevor. Says she always plays with his LEGOs with him.”

Aaron stared blankly before smiling back at the elderly man, “Oh. She’s not my wife, at least, not yet.”

He smiled and patted Aaron’s back before heading off, “You’ve got a keeper, better take care of her.”

Smiling at the elderly man and turning his attention towards you and Jack, both goofing around while walking back to him and eating the ice cream in hand, “Yeah, that’s what I plan on doing. Not gonna run from love the second time around.”

Aaron knows that the future isn’t certain for anyone, no matter how hard they wished for it. But, one thing’s for sure– he knew that you were his present and will still be his future.

IV.

It’s been two years since you and Aaron had started dating- it’s safe to say that Aaron would call it the start of the happiness seeping back in his life. It wasn’t that long after your second anniversary that he asked you to move in at his apartment. When the boys in the team had asked what made him certain of his decision, Aaron simply shrugged and responded, “I guess I just wanted to start off the day with her getting all worked up over the daily crossword.”

It was a Saturday night, Aaron was left alone in his apartment and mindlessly flipped through the copy of Pride and Prejudice because he wanted to try and read it after you gushed all about Mr. Darcy to him one night. You told him he didn’t have to stay up to wait for you because JJ would bring you home after the BAU girls night, but he insisted he would. He didn’t admit it at most times, but he didn’t sleep too soundly without you by his side.

“Aaron? I’m home,” You called out as you closed the door behind you with the sound of plastic crinkling along, “Are you still up?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Aaron smiled as he set the book down and made his way to wrap his arms around your waist to give you a kiss, “What’ve you got there?”

“I have a surprise for you,” You giggled as you hid the plastic bags behind your back, “Sit on the couch and close your eyes, please.”

Aaron playfully rolled his eyes and mumbled a ‘Fine.’ as he did what you told him to, “I swear, I don’t want some sort of insect on me, (Y/N).”

You laughed as you shook your head, “I promise, you’ll love it, Aaron. How can I possibly do that to you?”

“Well, okay, you have a point,” Aaron laughed as his hands covered his eyes, “But, I’ll still have my doubts. Those were large plastic bags that you brought in.”

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you set the plastic bags on his lap and bit your lip in anticipation, “Okay, you can open them now.”

Aaron took his hands off and looked at you for a moment before his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, “This is a bit heavy?”

You shrugged with a mischievous smile, “Just open it, Aaron.”

As Aaron pulled the box out of the bag, he looked at you with his mouth agape, “(Y/N), you did not just- are you kidding me?”

You shook your head with a big smile while Aaron mirrored your expression as he pulled the record player out of the box and set it on the couch and moved on to take out The Beatles’ White Album vinyl with a note that had the words scribbled, ‘Dear Aaron, I Will (0:44-0:57). Yours always, (Y/N).’

“Come here, you,” Aaron mumbled as he set down the vinyl and stood up to pull you in a hug and kissed your temple, “You’re literally full of surprises, huh?”

“Well, I made JJ stop over at the store I saw these two were displayed in,” You grinned up at him while resting your chin on his chest, “And, just the first of many, my love.”

Aaron held your face as he pulled you in for a kiss and smiled, “Why don’t we test it out?”

Nodding your head, Aaron lifted the record player and set it on the coffee table while carefully putting on the vinyl and setting the needle to where he believed a certain song would play.

Smiling as he held his hand out, “May I have this dance, my love?”

“Always, Aaron,” You grinned and took his hand, you wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms found home on your waist, “Hm, I guess this is our song now?”

“If you want it to be,” Aaron smiled softly as he pulled you closer, “Then, it’ll be our song.”

The two of you swayed in the dimly lit living room as ‘I Will’ played in the background, which Aaron started softly singing to while holding you in his arms. He knew that the song sweetly resonated in his heart that beats just for you.

“You’re not heading home yet?” JJ peered over at your desk as you jotted away on the remaining paperwork you had, “It’s getting late, (Y/N).”

“Just gonna finish this,” You smiled softly up at your best friend, “Besides, Aaron’s still here. He still might be finishing up some, too.”

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” She smiled as she gently pulled you to a side hug, “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

Nodding and smiling up at her, “Always. Say hi to Henry and Will for me.”

JJ waved at you as she exited the doors of the BAU, leaving you alone at your desk. Well, technically, Aaron was still holed up in his office, you just didn’t want to disturb him. Right as he passed through your mind, your phone buzzed on your desk.

Aaron 🕵🏻❤️: Hey sweetheart. Can you come here? I’ve got something to ask.

Aaron 🕵🏻❤️: Just about some consults.

Looking up from your phone, Aaron’s office blinds were closed and dimly lit inside. He must’ve fallen asleep from the amount of paperwork to be filled out, you haven’t even seen him since this morning.

As you gently knocked on his door and opened it, your ears registered the opening notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, which made your eyebrows furrow, “Aaron? Wha- oh my god.”

Rose petals were scattered on the floor while fairy lights decorated the walls of Aaron’s office with the notes that you always put along with his daily cup of coffee. Aaron stood by his desk with Jack holding on his hand, who softly whispered, “Go, daddy.”

“Sweetheart, I know this isn’t about some consults like you thought it would be,” Aaron chuckled as you had tears forming in your eyes, “But, I thought that there was something much more important to ask than those.”

“Not long ago, well actually, six years ago, you were the agent that Strauss had hired for the team. I didn’t know how much you’d mean to me when you knocked on my door. Sweetheart, don’t cry,” Aaron smiled softly as he walked over to you and wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I knew there was no turning back the day I got stuck in traffic with you- when you sang to the song that’s currently playing. Then, we started dating and we’re coming close to our fourth year together. You aren’t my past, but you’re my present. And, here I am asking you to be my future- well, our future.”

Jack grinned as he squeezed in the hug and sneakily handed the velvet box to his dad, “What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?”

“Daddy, no! I want to be a part, too,” Jack huffed as he tugged on Aaron’s sleeve, “I want to ask (Y/N) if she wants to be my momma!”

“Okay, buddy, my bad,” Aaron laughed as he pulled out the velvet box to reveal a diamond ring in it, “Will you marry us? Will you become our lifelong partner and Jack’s momma?”

You laughed as you sniffled and wiped your tears with the back of your hand and nodded eagerly, “Yes, a million times, yes.”

Aaron smiled brightly as he slipped the ring on your finger and pulled you in for a kiss, “I love you. I love you with all that I am, sweetheart.”

“I love you so much, Aaron,” You whispered against his lips as you rubbed your thumbs on his cheeks, “You’re my everything.”

Aaron smiled as he reached down to carry Jack in his arms and pulled you in another hug while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and swayed to the opening notes of your song. He was certain that in all the lifetimes that he’ll ever have, he would always do everything he can to find his way back home. And, that’s what you were.

“Daddy, are you feeling okay?” Jack mumbled as he climbed in Aaron’s lap and put the back of his hand on his father’s forehead, “You’ve been staring at momma with a smile on your face for the past few minutes. I don’t think you heard me.”

Aaron chuckled as he ruffled up Jack’s hair, “Yeah, buddy, I’m okay- just couldn’t help but think how lucky I am to have momma in my life. We’re lucky boys, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, daddy!” Jack nodded eagerly and smiled, “I’m glad that I have another momma to love me as much as mommy does.”

“Hey, Mr. Hotchner,” You called out from the dance floor where you and the BAU girls were standing, “What do you think of having our first dance?”

“I’d love that, Mrs. Hotchner,” Aaron grinned as he made his way across the dance floor to where you were standing and took you in his arms, “I can’t believe we’re finally married.”

“Road to forever?” You smiled up at him as you swayed to the music, “Or, maybe, road to all the lifetimes we’ll have in this floating ball of mass in space?”

Aaron laughed as he gently dipped you in the floor and pulled you back up to give you a kiss, “That sounds a lot better, Mrs. Hotchner.”

There wasn’t a single thing in the world that Aaron wouldn’t do for you. He’d give you the sun, moon, or even the stars if he could. But, the least he could do is love you with everything he has to offer because you made him believe that he deserved a second chance in love.

hotch taglist: @sbeno22 @skyler666 @izbelross @gillysoldlady @malindacath @katieslotherford @blondekel77 @alexxavicry @jareauswife @singinginacargettinglostupstate @aaronhotchy @criminalmindsandmarvel@captainamericasmotercycle @ssahotchnerswife @twilightlover2007 @ssamorganhotchner @spencerscarddeck @wheelsupkels @ladyreyreigns @bihotchrights @itsemohours @peachyhotch

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underfaller · 8 months

Text

Chapter 12: λ (pt. 3)

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor CW: None this chapter Word count: 2.0k A/N: The official halfway mark! Thank you for coming this far. Chapters may come out slower than usual. I am working on a virtual convention called Fatui Con. It's going to be a completely free, fan event on Discord dedicated to the Fatui Harbingers. If you want to join, you can do so here. Though not explicitedly NSFW, it's 18+ only.

“Be careful now, will you? You’re going to fall if you do not watch where you’re going.”

You can hear that familiar, reprimanding edge in Dottore’s voice, but alas, you can’t help but throw caution to the wind-- the energy of the festival has taken over completely as you eagerly take in your surroundings, the burdens of days prior suddenly lifted away with the night. The waning winter air is still quite chilly -- you're glad for your cloak. Hundreds of delicate paper lanterns float through the air, lighting your path with a soft, golden glow. As one lazily floats down, you reach out and delicately lift it up, pushing it back on its path towards the stars.

“Come now, Doctor! Must you always be so cranky? Our work is done, let’s enjoy ourselves for once!”

A small smirk teasingly plays on your lips. You turn around, walking backwards, your hands resting behind your head.

“I am not ‘cranky’. I am merely warning you of the inevitable,” Dottore replies, shortly.

“Ah, you worry too much--Oof!”

You utter a small noise of surprise as you accidentally bump into a Milleth member’s back. You stumble as the man confusedly turns around. Dottore catches your arm right before you fall to the ground, quickly pulling you up. You look at him, meeting his curt frown and smile sheepishly as you adjust your cloak.

What awful timing. How embarrassing.

“Thank you…” You nervously laugh. “You may have been correct that time-”

“As per usual,” The Doctor states, a twinge of smugness lines his words.

You shake your head, folding your arms.

“I am simply trying to save face, Doctor.”

“Even when I already saved yours just now.”

“Tch.” You narrow your eyes, but when you notice that familiar, cocky grin slowly forming on his masked face, you find yourself unable to remain annoyed.

When did that grin bring me such content?

Shouts and cheers can be heard from various, colorful booths where carnival games are being played. Children run through the dense crowds, laughing and chattering. A wonderful smell wafts from the many street food vendors that line Liyue Harbor. Dottore nods towards one particular stand that doesn’t seem as busy as the others.

…When did he?

“Are you hungry?”

You nod.

“Then wait here.”

He quickly leaves, striding to the booth. You watch his figure from a distance, your mind wandering to times bygone and of how you both first met. You used to despise this man. You hated him with every fiber in your being. You woke up every day just to curse him.

And now?

Now, when I utter his name, I cannot bring forth such malice.

How awful, yet painfully funny it is that you can’t imagine your life away from the Doctor, now. Since that fateful day in Dragonspine, you’ve let yourself fall completely for this man-- though, not as in falling in love, of course. After all, what did someone like you-- a being without a human heart--know of love? No, you let yourself fall into his palms utterly, those last threads of resistance finally snapping when you plunged into those icy waters to save him. It wasn’t romantic, rather, a resigned defeat that you ironically reveled in as you wholeheartedly accepted it. Your sarcasm and snippy remarks hold more amusement than actual anger and you find yourself laughing at his morbid jokes more than rolling your eyes.

I must admit, it is less exhausting accepting this new life of mine.

You know Dottore sees you as nothing but a puppet on a string, yet you find yourself willing to perform at his every command and even the slightest flick of his wrist. You know you are nothing more than a glorified pet than an equal. Those curses and screams lined with poison and hate seem like a blurry memory now-- much like your old life in Celestia.

That’s alright. There are worse things to be in this mortal realm.

Still, you did not entirely understand what drove your desire to please this man you know is utterly despicable. That certainly didn’t mean you didn’t try your hardest too.

Perhaps you would find the answer on this reprehensible path you so willingly followed Dottore on in pursuit of knowledge and acceptance.

At least the master I now serve does not deceive me like the gods , You think. How amusing it is that the individuals who wear masks show their ugly truths so clearly.

It’s then that you suddenly see a flash of red pass by you.

…What?

You whip around just in time to see a cloaked figure with long, red hair disappearing into the sea of people. Your heart jumps into your throat as your eyes widen. You scan the crowd, tiptoeing to get a better view. Still, you quickly lose the individual.

“What are you looking at?” Dottore asks as he returns to you.

You know it’s impossible. You know it’s not her.

You know you will not see Rider again.

You turn back towards the Doctor, shaking your head.

Do you even want to see her?

Do you want her to see you? To see who you are now?

“Nothing. I just… thought I saw someone.”

…No. It’s better we never see each other again.

“Hmph, it’s almost impossible to find anyone in this crowd. If I didn’t have a keen eye, I’d probably have lost sight of you as well,” Dottore mutters. “I quite dislike being around so many… banal individuals.”

“Still, you seem to be enjoying yourself much more than when we were in Mondstadt,” You comment.

“Do I now?” Dottore chuckles. “Perhaps. It is quite rare I have an evening without rigor or research.” “Here,” He hands you one of the skewers in his hands. “It’s grilled tiger fish, a specialty here.”

You take the delicacy from him, tentatively trying it. The fish is so fresh, you can practically still taste the sea in its meat. The lightly charred green onion gives a satisfying crunch.

“Is it to your liking?”

“Yes… it’s delicious!” You exclaim between bites.

He grins, eating his own skewer.

“Good.”

As you both continue participating in the festival, Dottore explains more about Lantern Rite and the country itself. You listen, but it’s a bit hard to focus on the meaning behind his words. Instead, your attention drifts towards his masked face, his didactic tone as he so eagerly yet naturally he teaches you, his emphatic gestures he always made with his hands as he spoke.

He sure does like to talk, You think, amusedly. Though, I suppose that is alright, I enjoy listening.

Before you return back to the city, Dottore turns one last time towards the calm harbor waters. The docked boats gently rock back and forth on a black surface that sparkles like gold as it reflects the festivities happening on its shores.

“The waters here are much more temperate; it reminds me a bit of my hometown,” Dottore muses. “It is probably due to the calmer climates compared to Snezhnaya’s harsh winter.”

You glance at him.

“How interesting,” You remark.

“What is, my dear?”

“I always assumed that you were native to Snezhnaya.”

Dottore grins.

“Don’t be silly, my dear,” He says. “Such a great mind couldn’t have possibly formed in such a barren, boring land.”

“Then where exactly are you from?”

The Doctor chuckles at your curiosity.

“Where, indeed. Perhaps I will tell you one day.”

You reenter the city, climbing up the long, stone steps and up a spiral of red ones. You don’t know where Dottore is leading you, you just simply follow. However, when you find yourself at the top of one of Liyue City’s crimson roofed buildings, you let out a small sigh.

“What troubles you, my little birdie?”

“It’s quite unfair, Doctor. You know everything about me, but despite our time together, I barely know anything about you.”

His smile falters a bit, but he quickly lets out a small laugh, waving away your disappointment.

“It’s for the best, my dear.”

“It’s still unfair.”

“Life tends to be, darling.”

You lean against the lacquer railing. It is much quieter here. Despite it being quite a nice view, you and the Doctor are the only ones here. The loud chatter is now a dull, background noise. You frown as you continue to view the activities below.

“Are you afraid to tell me?”

“I'm not afraid of anything,” Dottore scoffs. He thinks for a moment. “Though as a scholar, I do ponder… all probable possibilities in such scenarios.”

“Such as?”

Dottore lifts his mask off his face, his long bangs falling over his eyes. He inhales, breathing in the clear, night air. As the Doctor tilts his head towards you, you study his face. You’ve seen it a handful of times before now. Still, you always took it in so greedily. Dottore isn’t conventionally handsome but his peculiar, sharp features are what makes him oddly attractive. They’re fitting for someone like him. For the sake of his ego and your ears, you’d never tell him, though.

If I told him that I found him good-looking, I’d never hear the end of it.

Dottore crosses his arms as he leans against the railing as well, his backside presses against the hard, painted wood.

“You are being very persistent, my dear. Why do you want to know so badly?”

“I don't know. It's just…” You start your sentence but do not finish the thought, instead averting your eyes. “Will you not tell me because you do not trust me?”

What does it matter that he didn’t trust me? Why do I care so much? “Certainly not. You are my assistant, after all.”

Relief.

“I see.”

A moment of silence.

“Do you think it is important?” Dottore asks.

You look at him.

“What is?”

“Trust.”

“I suppose.”

“Tsk.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Well, do you?”

He thinks for a moment.

“It is pleasant to have someone to confide in and I suppose a level of trust is needed for that,” Dottore concludes. “But it is naive to believe you can trust someone with every bit of you. Betrayal is the inevitable outcome of all relationships with others. The only mind you can completely trust is your own.”

“How pessimistic.”

“Facts aren’t always nice. You, of all individuals, should know this.”

“Still…”

Your words fall out of your mouth before you’ve thought them.

“I would not betray you.”

Silence.

You blush once more, looking away quickly. At first, you think the Doctor will reprimand you for such silliness, but instead he sighs, his eyes returning back to the sights below.

“You have so much to learn, little birdie.”

Teach me, then.

You shift beside him, changing the conversation as you do so.

“When we return, will we resume our research on Khemia?”

“Logically so.”

“What about the abyss samples?”

“What about them?”

“Well, we need more after what happened. We can’t proceed without it.”

“We’ll figure something out. We are scholars after all.”

You nod silently. Perhaps… no.

For a moment, you feel inclined to tell him about what happened in the Abyss. How the Void Realm is already in your veins. However, unlike moments before, you do not let such a confession spill. Instead, your fist clenches the fabric of your cloak tightly as your lips remain sealed. You wear your heart on your sleeve, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t keep a secret or two.

Unlike you who knows no fear, I am a coward who is afraid to even speak.

Maybe, deep down, you also believe that it is naive to trust someone with every bit of you.

A large stage below illuminates as it suddenly comes to life. A performance soon begins and though you cannot hear what they are saying, it interests you nonetheless. You are especially encapsulated when two actors appear on stage with large, paper mache wings, their flight obviously fabricated by the harnesses attached to their torsos and the ropes overhead. You feel your own wings twitch beneath the fabric that hides them.

“Do you ever think about doing that?” Dottore asks.

“What?”

“Flying away.”

You shake your wings a bit, looking at the starry night sky before smiling softly.

“Sometimes,” You reply. “When I see a clear sky or am standing from a particularly tall place, I close my eyes and imagine spreading my wings. I’ve told you before. All birds yearn for the sky.”

He does not answer.

“But all birds need a nest to sleep for the night, which is why I return to your-” You pause. “Your place.”

You almost said his side.

“How utterly risible.”

“You do not have to mock me, Doctor,” You glare at him.

“Contrary, I mock myself.”

Dottore continues to watch the performance below, following the dancing, colorfully dressed actors with flitting, unreadable eyes.

“I do not believe in fate-- only tools do. Even still, we all have a role to play on this ridiculous stage we call our world,” He says.

Dottore laughs humorlessly.

“And how ironic that despite my genius, mine is a fool.”

You chuckle at his words.

“We are all fools in our own way, Doctor.”

“And yet…” He murmurs.

“What?”

A sharp whistling fills your ears. You turn towards the dark blue sky to see the first firework explode with a loud bang. You watch as the fiery tendrils stretch down, dissipating into golden stardust that paints the night sky.

How beautiful.

“Nothing...,” Dottore slowly grins as his voice trails off. You both watch the fireworks. Another goes off, then another. Your eyes sparkle with delight as you watch such wonders.

They are like manmade stars, but more fleeting.

Despite their shortcomings, humans can make such wonderful things.

You are so invested in the sight before you that you don’t even notice Dottore leaning over you until you feel him press his lips against the top of your head as he lightly kisses you. Before you can even react, he’s already straightened up, leaning against the railing once more.

Thump, thump.

The sound of your own beating heart momentarily drowns out the fireworks.

Dottore smirks at you.

“Happy Lantern Rite, little birdie.”

Happy Lantern Rite, Doctor.

Dearest Y/N,

Today is my last day in Liyue. How lovely that I got to spend it celebrating their largest festival of the year. Celestia has not given me a task in quite awhile, but it is alright. I and three other Messengers will be traveling together for some time.

Four is such an unlucky number. It'd be nice if we were five.

I've come to accept that you will not respond. Still, I'll continue to keep you in my thoughts. I've met more like us but none are quite like you. You'll always be my friend.

Happy Lantern Rite, Y/N.

Rider

Past chapters here

#fic: dead doves do not mourn #dottore #dottore x fem!reader #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact

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elena-mayfair · 2 years

Text

Fallout

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, horror images, graphic violence, adult themes, reader discretion is advised Summary: And after night comes day, and after the storm comes peace, or does it really? A week after chaos overtook the world, Witch and Dream of the Endless find themselves in a new reality, a reality that must be rebuilt. Both must face the fallout that their actions have brought. Will they find some peace and relief? Word count: 4.4k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors

Series Masterlist Part ten: Raging storm

***

"I had forgotten what this feels like…" from Morpheus' outstretched hand glittering grains of golden sand emerged, shimmering in the light of the bright morning sun. They slowly fell to the earth only to transform the bare ground into a dense, green forest. It surrounded the foothills of majestic mountains whose snowy peaks reached all the way to the sky. The trees hummed a gentle song as the wind softly caressed their branches and leaves, they spread their arms as if welcoming an old friend. They bowed their crowns to Morpheus before greeting the mountains. The mountains responded to the greeting with a smile only to greet the river in which crystal clear water they could admire their majestic reflections. The grass dressed in green, the shrubs took on all the colors of the rainbow, and the birds and insects sang with every tone of voice given to them. From the golden grains of sand, life was created.

"My Lord," Lucienne walked up to him, "This...this is beautiful..." she gasped with admiration, "I'm so glad to see you are back, and with your full power at your command."

"I had forgotten..." Morpheus looked closely at his own hands as he rubbed grains of sand between his fingers, "I had forgotten how much of my power I had placed in that jewel. How much of it was denied to me..." he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "I must remake this realm, not as it once was, but as a new." he stated.

"My Lord, Dreams and Nightmares had begun to return, they will need their own settlements."

"As expected," he affirmed shortly.

"Unfortunately many of them are still in the Waking World..." she added quietly, "Especially Nightmares, they seem to thrive there."

Morpheus merely looked at her. In her eyes, he was the commanding Ruler of this realm once again. Yet, he had changed. Even though he dominated with his presence, there was a sign of something different in his eyes and in the tone of voice, something new yet old at the same time, something that had been long forgotten, something she had not seen in him in billions of years.

"Dreams and Nightmares seem to no longer recognize their Master. I will find them and bring them all home," he stated in a stern voice. "For now, I must speak with Matthew. I have a task that he shall complete for me."

He turned away from the newly created forest and directed himself towards the castle that began to renew. Yet the thought stopped him in his step.

"Something is missing..." he murmured quietly mostly to himself. Once again he disappeared into the woods. The trees, upon seeing their master, parted before him, providing him with a path. At his silent command, they gathered into a small circle shading a small clearing with their branches. With a nod of his head, he thanked the trees then looked at the clearing and gently smiled at it as it gracefully covered itself with white flower vines of fragrant jasmine. "I had forgotten how that feels..."

Lucienne only glanced silently at her Master's newly formed creation, delight painted itself on her face. With her watchful eye, she looked at him stealthily. His eyes were closed, he was deeply inhaling the sweetness of the flowers. At that moment she knew that more had changed in the being she had known for millennia than he himself was willing to admit. She saw peace on his face. The times when her Master enjoyed the scent of flowers were long forgotten, yet unexpectedly they seemed to have returned.

"My Lord...I hate to interrupt your work but there is one more thing..." Morpheus only stood there in silence, drowning himself in the beauty of the world around him, "The library had begun to return," she continued as if his silence was permission, "and along with the library the first book appeared," she hesitated for a moment, "It bares her name o the cover."

***

You stayed at the Missouri house for another week. You needed a moment of rest after everything that had happened, you needed the peace and quiet that you so easily came to find in your friend's cozy home. And you desperately needed her Asfodelus potions. You didn't have the smallest desire to go back to your normal life. It was enough that normal life, without your permission, flowed into the surrounding peacefulness through TV and radio. Scientists and the media could not clearly decide what caused the global wave of violence. Some claimed it was a collective hallucination triggered by the leak of mind-controlling biological weapons. Others, the ones who were thinking more freely, claimed that the influence of an unusual alignment of planets and stars caused people to lose their minds for 24 hours. Of course, there were also voices saying that aliens were testing humanity and their influence on human behavior, or that the hand of god himself had reached out to give humanity a foretaste of Armageddon. However, a surprising amount of people simply moved on with blissful ignorance, as if nothing had ever happened. Humans have an astonishing talent for distorting from consciousness things that cannot be explained.

Yet, on a smaller scale, one could see uncertainty and fear in their eyes. Neighbors were greeting each other on the street with surreptitious glances, smiles diminished and weakened. People, whenever they could, hid in their homes, as if their own four walls could protect them from potential danger. Conversations on the streets and in stores became quieter, more reserved. The number of people in churches and other places of worship increased. The number of people in bars and clubs also increased, with those who decided to live life to the fullest now after they survived the end of the world. Everyone reacted in their own way, and you knew it would take a long time until people completely forget what had happened.

Together with Missouri, you helped whoever you could in your neighborhood. Although you needed rest and peace, you couldn't ignore people in need. "Listen to the world in pain." John Dee's voice sounded insistently in your head every time you saw a saddened face on the street. Despite Missouri's objections, you took in and nursed the beaten dog back to health, he was now lying by the fireplace, quietly breathing and dreaming what dogs dream about. Broken ribs and paws slowly began to heal, his appetite returned, and the gratitude in his doggy eyes told you that he would live with Missouri forever. You also helped a neighbor whose husband burned himself in front of her and her children. You helped as much as you could, after all, some horrors cannot be erased with a warm word and a homemade cake. And once again the human ability to suppress facts amazed you when your neighbor, Suzan, never asked how did you put out the burning car with the will of your mind. In the look of her and her children's eyes, there was no fear, no apprehension, there was only gratitude. All of Missouri's neighbors recognized her as a medium, a good woman who supposedly could see the future and the past. There were requests for her to tell them what their future would be, there were pleading glances directed in your direction, glances that silently asked without knowing exactly what they might ask for. However, both you and Missouri had a rule not to use your abilities on civilians in situations other than necessary. People had to deal with their trauma in a natural way, no matter how long it took, magic would deprive them of this opportunity, magic was an easy escape that robbed one of the ability to heal, the ability to grieve.

"I know that this is against all the rules that we established in our relationship, and you will probably refuse, but I have a favor to ask," you started. You were sitting in the kitchen, drinking your afternoon coffee, as she was preparing dinner. Back then you didn't know that this was meant to be the last dinner that you will have together for a very long time.

"Go on!" she encouraged as she stirred in the pan.

"I would like you to look into my future..." you requested quietly and Missouris' hand froze for a second in the pan.

"I'm sorry I must have misunderstood you," she turned to you and folded her hands on her chest, her eyes were glaring at you dangerously, "You are damn right missy! I will not do that! Why on Earth would you even ask me that!!"

"Oh come on!! Just this once! With all that is happening around me lately, I think this perfectly reasonable thing to ask!" you pleaded.

"Stay away from the Sandman and you won't have to worry about your future!"

"Missouri..." you attempted a sad puppy look but you could never master it, no one ever bought it even for a second.

"I warned you once didn't I?! Despite my better judgment I told you to stay away from this one! You obviously didn't listen. People are not meant to know their future! Witches or civilians!"

"Come on!! I can handle it!!" you begged. "Please, just this once, little sneaky look! Please, do this for me." She didn't answer anything, just angrily turned back to the steaming pots and started stirring them nervously one by one. You, however, knew, you knew that she would do what you asked her to do.

***

After dinner, you sat down in a small room that Missouri treated as her office. It was much smaller than the other rooms in the house, even one tiny window was always covered by a thick maroon curtain. A small couch stood against the wall, and on the other side, a small table stood between two armchairs. On each side, you were surrounded by stacks of books, which you loved paging through and comparing with your own collection.

"Where did you get that?" you asked, holding up an extremely old volume entitled "Dreamwalking and Astral Projection - A case study"

"Oh, Bobby Singer gave it to me some time ago," she brushed off.

"I bet it was right after you told him that I'm hanging out with the Sandman..." you sneered.

"Don't you get all sassy with me, missy!" she nagged her finger, "you are walking a thin line here! Looking into one future, unbelievable..." that last part she murmured mostly to herself. "Come. Sit down," she turned the chairs in the way so you would face each other.

You sat down as she ordered, and to your surprise nervousness suddenly caused your heart to beat faster. You needed to know, with everything that had happened in your life recently you needed to know what the future held for you. In your mind, this knowledge could prepare you for anything.

"You know that no future is set in stone. Whatever I am about to see doesn't have to come true," her eyes were filled with tension as well.

"Of course, I know that!"

"You sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure." despite nervousness speeding up your heartbeat you had not hesitated for a second.

"I can't believe that I'm doing this for you...." she muttered and shook her head in disbelief.

"That's what friends are for right?" you smirked.

"Oh hush you!" she scolded you with frowned brows, "Keep quiet and listen to me!" you nodded in agreement, "First of all I need you to take off whatever magical objects you got on you. I don't want to get any interference." you nodded again and reached under your blouse for your pentacle amulet. You hesitated as your hand traveled to your pocket to reach for a vile of sand. You placed them safely on the table, somehow without them you felt naked, unprotected. As soon as you took your hand from them Missouris' eyes darted at the vial.

"What is that..." she almost whispered.

"You know damn well what that is..." you could feel another lecture coming.

"Where did you get that?"

"Morpheus...he gave it to me..." you replied quietly.

"Gave it to you?!" her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes. He gave it to me," you repeated, "Back when we were in Hell. I wanted to give it back but he asked me to keep it. He said it was a gift."

"Child...this is a powerful object...." she looked fearfully at the vial, "Mortals are not equipped to possess objects like this, god only knows what it can do to you! What kind of control it can place over you!"

"I can..." you started quietly, "I can hold it, and I'm pretty sure that Morpheus knows that..." Missouri gazed at you questioningly so you continued, "I can, well... sort of use it. When I hold it, it sort of amplifies my powers. But doesn't give me new ones, just amplifies the ones that I have. During last week's events, I could hear a voice in my head, the voice of the man who was doing all of it, but it wasn't speaking to me. I think he was talking to Morpheus and I sort of overheard it. It was like I heard Morpheus's thoughts. When I touched the vial, I saw him. I saw Morpheus and he saw me," in your friend's eyes you saw fear mixed with fascination, "The same thing happened while we've been in Hell. You saw images in my head. I could hear and sense things around me before I even touched the vial. But when I touched it I could see it all...I could see it all and more...it was like my eyes had suddenly opened only to reveal a whole different world hidden behind the veil."

"But you had it with you, it was in your pocket..." she interrupted.

"You're right. But I didn't have it when I ventured in my dreams to his Realm. More than once. I haven't even known him..." you lowered your voice again, "I'm telling you. For some reason, I can use it."

Missouri did not answer anything, she only looked suspiciously at the vial and after a moment pushed it further away with her hand hidden under the sleeve of her blouse. She was afraid to touch it.

"How long do you have this neckless?" She gazed at your silver neckless with a pentacle pendant.

"I had it for ages! Why?"

"It's got strange energy..." her eyes peered through the amulet in concentration, "Can't you feel it? I don't know what is it, but it's got strange energy... I've felt it since the moment you arrived."

"It is a pentacle embodied with amethyst stones infused with my own magic! Of course, it has strange energy!" you exclaimed, "Now you are just being silly! Are we doing this or not?"

Missouri only sighed heavily. One thing she knew perfectly well, stubbornness was one of your strengths, and if you refused to listen then her words were of no use.

"Close your eyes and try to relax," she instructed you, "and please, for my sake, try not to think about anything that I do not want to know!" she warned, "Just keep your mind clear, do not think about anything or anyone, breath steady."

You closed your eyes and did as instructed. For a moment, images of the previous week's events tried to invade your mind, you had to focus all your will on the all-encompassing blackness and your own breathing. Missouri waited, waited while observing as your eyes stopped twitching nervously under closed eyelids and your chest began to rise calmly and evenly.

"Good...." she gently took both your hands and closed them in her own, "just breath..."

For a moment you felt her presence in your own mind, you flinched, as your defense mechanisms automatically attempted to fight her. Missouri, however, only clenched her hands tighter on yours. It seemed as if it lasted an eternity, the darkness in front of your eyes, the silence so deafening that it began to ring in your ears, the warm touch of her hands on your own after a while began to cause an unpleasant tingling sensation.

"What do you see?" you whispered.

"I see..." she began, "I see...nothing..." she removed her hands and you opened your eyes.

"What do you mean, nothing? It didn't work?"

"No...it is not that..." her voice trembled.

"Oh my lord just tell me!!"

"I saw nothing, just darkness...I saw nothing... only darkness, all around you there was darkness, implacable, endless darkness. There were no images, no people, no places, just you and all around you endless darkness."

"Endless darkness..." you repeated in your mind, and involuntarily your thoughts led you to Morpheus. That's how it felt to be near him sometimes, that's how it felt to gaze into the universe in his eyes. Yet it was also an image of the void, the one that almost consumed him.

"What had he told you?" Missouri brought you back to reality, "You know, back then, before you threw yourself onto him," she did not pass up the opportunity to point this out to you.

"He asked me to go with him..." you whispered in contentment, "he asked me to go with him to his realm."

Only a quiet gasp escaped her lips, and she asked nothing more.

"Thank you for doing this for me," you smiled kindly, "I really appreciate that. I know that it was hard for you and I know that it was a lot to ask." you got up from a chair, and grabbed your things, the amulet was back on your neck and the sand vial was safely hidden in your pocket, "And thank you for this week. I know it wasn't exactly a vacation, but to me, it was the most precious time. I better get going. I bet my whole apartment smells like a two-week old laundry and left out trash," you smirked.

"My dear..." she stopped you by gently placing her hands on your shoulders, "I do not know what future awaits you, but I strongly implore you, to be careful. Seeing him talking with you got me thinking that perhaps I was wrong...perhaps..." she cut off the thought, "but still, please be careful. Please be smart and act on reason, not on emotions."

"I cannot promise that," you smirked again, "You know me..."

"And child...," she squizzed your arms gently and continued, "please stop blaming yourself for everything bad that happened. Turners, Jeffersons, that poor man, your parents...Y/N it is not your fault. Your parents died of natural causes, you cannot drive yourself to the grave trying to help everyone, you simply cannot help everyone. You can't save everyone..." tears shone in her concerned eyes.

"Jeffersons?" you saw regret slowly creeping onto her face, "Who are Jeffersons?"

"I thought you knew..." she mouthed apologetically.

"Poltergeist case?" a cold shiver ran through your body, a feeling you were beginning to get used to, after all, you had experienced it so often in recent weeks, "I've sent Constantine here..."

"He got here a few hours too late. They attempted to flee their house in the hurry, it was a particularly nasty ghost."

"What happened?"

"Car crash, head-on collision with a truck... no one survived."

A feeling of helplessness and anger flooded you completely. Suddenly all the good that you and Missouri had given back to the people in need had no longer mattered. For each life you saved, there were four sniffed away, four that you could not save. Four that, through your decisions, had ceased to exist. A new feeling suddenly arose in your heart, a desire, a desire to feel nothing anymore, a desire not to feel the despair that seemed to follow your every step.

"I think you should name the dog Ace, it is a good name for a Dane."

At least this life you could save, "at least he survived".

***

The moment your foot crossed the doorstep of your apartment you knew something was wrong. Your magical senses momentarily picked up strange energy in the air, a change, an energy that shouldn't be here. Without even turning on the light, you walked carefully through the entire apartment checking every room, from the bathroom to the bedroom. You found no one. Yet, your attention got drawn to the books scattered on the floor, to the candles that had been knocked over, and to the bed in disarray. You examined everything carefully as if looking for traces of someone who might have left them. "I think I'm already starting to lose my mind," you thought calmly, after all, the locks were secured, there was no sign of a break-in. After examining the front door and locks closely once more, you decided that you clearly must have left this mess when you left your apartment in a hurry more than a week ago.

The night was already deep, the hour was approaching two o'clock, so you decided that apartment cleaning will have to wait until tomorrow. You took a long relaxing shower, trying not to think about the Turners, drank a cup of vanilla tea trying not to think about the Jeffersons, smoked a couple of cigarettes trying not to think about the burning man, changed into your favorite black satin nightgown trying not to think about Hell and determined to fall asleep quickly you went to bed.

"At least Ace will have a good life now…"

***

Morpheus felt her presence the moment she entered the Dreaming. He was strolling along the riverfront talking to the wind and the mountains when suddenly his mind was pierced by that new familiar feeling, the one he couldn't name, the one he had begun to feel since he had traveled through Hell with her. He knew she was here, he knew she was dreaming. He nodded to the mountains and the river, thanked them for the conversation, then reached for his pouch of sand and disappeared into the golden swirls of grain.

He found himself in a long dark corridor, illuminated by a dimming frigid light. The metallic gray walls seemed to overwhelm as if they wanted to suffocate anyone who dared to walk through. He stopped for a moment and ran his fingers over the words scratched on them;

loser...weak...useless...powerless...hopeless...

your fault...you killed them...they died because of you...

you can't help anyone... just die already...

regret...grief...despair...

"So much pain…" words covered the walls of the entire corridor and around the doors, three doors, each hiding different grief. Yet, he knew which one she was behind. He reached out his hand and opened one of them. A wave of scents and images burst from inside and surrounded him in a rippled stream, the smells of blood and death, images of violence and despair, tried to push him away with a powerful overwhelming force. Memories that had shaped Nightmares, Nightmares that had not recognized their master. They obstructed his view, whispered to him...

leave her...leave her...she gave us shape...

leave her...she is ours...leave...

"Let me pass." he ordered, "This has gone far enough. You have exceeded your bounds.

The Nightmares had parted creating the way for him, whispering quietly in terror, cowering before their Ruler.

Morpheus stepped through the door and there he saw her. She was kneeling on the wooden floor, she was looking at her hands covered with blood, she was crying. To her left rested a headless female body, to her right a male body with its chest torn open and its heart ripped out, and in front of her on the bed, the body of a young girl was leaning against the wall. The girl who had taken her own life.

"Who are they?" he asked in a low voice.

"I should help them…" she whispered.

"Who are they?" he insisted.

"It was my job, my responsibility, and I failed them," she whimpered with her eyes fixed on her bloody hands, "their blood is on my hands. They asked for my help, and I…. instead of helping them I helped you…"

She raised her eyes and looked at him, standing a few steps behind her, watching her carefully, his heart broke when their eyes met. "So much despair…"

"I don't blame you…" she said with her eyes fixed on him, "It was my decision, I chose to help you not them, I am to blame here, their blood is on my hands."

"It is not within your power to save everyone…" his voice took on a warm tone. He had seen similar nightmares billions of times, but for some reason, he didn't quite understand, looking at this one seemed unbearable, "You must not blame yourself…"

"That's what everyone seems to be saying…" she whispered as the image of the nightmare faded and changed.

They found themselves in a cemetery. She was sitting on a bench with her head lowered in sadness, in front of her three monuments rose from the ground, Turners, Jeffersons, and her family.

"I killed them…" she wept, "my decisions…the fallout of my decisions…"

He did not agree with it, could not agree with it, "she should know that she cannot help everyone," he thought. A desire rose inside him to end this nightmare, a desire to take her away, a desire to wipe the blood from her hands and the tears from her face. But he knew he could not do that, the wounds had to heal, even if the process was painful.

"Why are you here?" she asked without looking at him, "Why did you come?"

He did not answer.

"There are seven billion people in the world, at least half of them are sleeping now…I'm sure you have something to do, so many dreams and nightmares to control. Why are you in mine?"

Morpheus remained silent.

"You don't have to bother with me Dream Lord. There are others. Leave me... leave me alone..."

"No."

Morpheus sat down on the bench next to her and held out his open hand. She hesitated only to weave her fingers between his a moment later. They said nothing, in silence mourning those who had passed away.

He stayed with her until the end of the dream...

Part twelve: Living Nightmare

~~***~~

Authors note: And here we are at the end of Chapter 11. I spoke with a friend today about this chapter knowing very well that it will not be light and happy. I thought to myself that I definitely need to write something more happy, just pure fluff. But...there will be a moment for happiness and joy, yet this is not this moment. And to be honest I really like writing these painful and horror-ish scenes that are only cut through by moments of comfort, and glimpses of hope. That's why I fell in love with a Sandman in the first place. This utterly dark story with such powerful hopeful and uplifting themes. I do hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you will follow the story. I promise, there will be light, eventually ;) Thank you so much for your constant support, for all of your reblogs, and comments, each and every one of them means the world to me. See ya in Sunday in chapter 12 ;) As for now, Dear Reader, I thank you for reading :)

~~***~~

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#morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

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neuvillettism · 1 year

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kamisato ayato x fem!reader “under the snow”

— uses of feminine titles, pronouns, & descriptors — just a short little winter-time imagine for our fav hyrdo man <3

IT WAS NOT EVERY DAY THAT LORD KAMISATO AYATO WAS SEEN STROLLING AROUND INAZUMA. But today, it seems, was an exception for the head of the Kamisato Clan. He had his rumored lover at his side, who excitedly chatted with the man as they walked. Though from afar it looked like they were barely touching, however, up close one could see that the man just barely had his hand wrapped around the girl's arm. Holding her close, but still giving the woman room.

"Y/N, dear, where are you taking me-?" Ayato asked quietly, glancing down at his beloved with his light purple eyes. They had been walking all through the snow-covered Inazuma City, after Y/N had begged the poor man to ditch the paperwork for once in his life.

"Just be patient, my lord. You trust me right?" the girl responded, meeting his gaze briefly before returning it to the street in front of them. Ayato only nodded, not sure how to respond to his beloved's odd antics.

They continued walking through Inazuma City for quite some time before stepping off the path and heading toward a large body of frozen water underneath the city itself. Inside the cave beneath the city were dozens of Inazuman people gliding around the frozen water; some with partners, others just enjoying the activity by themselves.

Y/N removed herself from Ayato's side and sat on the snowy ground for a moment, getting her backpack and sliding out two pairs of ice skates that she had custom embroidered for herself and Kamisato Ayato. She slipped the backpack around her shoulders once more, before standing up and handing one of the two pairs (embroidered with the initials "A.K." and a Hydro symbol) to Ayato. He stared at her for a moment, occasionally glancing back at the people behind them.

"You really want to ice skate together, with all these people watching? This isn't going to beat the allegations about us, which I'm sure you know," Ayato spoke with utmost sincerity. Not wanting the girls in Inazuma who were fond of him to get a newfound hatred for the girl in front of him.

She had begun walking toward a nearby bench, taking a seat and patting the spot next to her for Ayato to follow. Slipping off their usual shoes, and replacing them with the new ice skates. The girl's head seemed busy to Ayato, as he occasionally glanced at her while putting on his ice skates. As if it was taking an unusual amount of time to come up with a witty comeback.

Finally, Y/N simply shrugged, tossing his words away. "I don't mind, once we are skating we can pretend like there's no one else here but us." She leaned closer to him, head turning so her eyes looked at his side profile, and placed her mouth right beside Ayato's ear. "Besides, they aren't really allegations if they're true," she whispered, her breath tickling the skin of his ear.

She backed her head away slowly, placing a small kiss on his now rose-colored cheek. Before returning to her original position and pushing herself up from the bench, holding her hand out for Ayato to take.

"Shall we?"

Kamisato Ayato had never grabbed something so quicker in his entire life, wanting nothing more than to spend some more intimate time with his beloved.

The couple eventually found themselves skating far away from the crowd, entering a small area outside the cave that was barren compared to the remainder of the ice rink which was covered with people. However, neither Ayato nor Y/N minded, and more privacy for them to skate circles around each other.

At some point, Ayato grabbed the girl's hand and began leading her around the round ice rink, occasionally spinning her as they made their rounds. He slowly brought the girl closer to him, to the point where their torsos had touched and Y/N could feel the heat radiating from Ayato's warm body. The two stared at each other for an elongated amount of time, love and longing in both of their expressions.

While the two disagreed on many, many, many things, they could never disagree on how much they loved each other. Both were smitten from the moment their eyes locked when Ayaka brought Y/N home one evening after the two girl's spent an entire day chatting at the Tea House. From that point onward, Kamisato Ayato and Y/N had been constantly making up excuses to be around each other. So much so that Ayaka, Thoma, the Traveler, and Paimon had started a bet on who would ask the other out first.

And here the two were now, standing in the center of a small ice rink, bodies close and faces even closer. It took only moments for the two to longingly stare at each other before Ayato slowly dipped his head down, and put his lips onto Y/N's. His gloved hand found her soft cheek, holding it as he deepened their kiss. Not caring if anyone had discovered the two sharing this most intimate moment, confirming the rumors that had surrounded them. After all, it was about time the "rumors" got confirmed and he might just do that with the silver ring that was hidden in his desk back at Kamisato Estate.

For now, all Kamisato Ayato cared about was Y/N's lips on his and their embrace deepening as snowflakes began falling from the sky around them. And all Y/N cared about was never ever leaving the moment, wishing she could just live in it forever. Oh, how the girl simply loved the wintertime.

The two eventually broke away, faces still close but no longer in a deep kiss. They just stared at each other, Ayato's hand on her cheek and Y/N's arms wrapped around his waist.

"Perhaps you should convince me to leave my paperwork more often, especially if your ideas entail ice skating or anything like this," Ayato whispered, giving the girl a small smile on his pale lips.

Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes. "I always have been trying, this is just the first time you've actually listened to me," she teased. "However, I'll keep that in mind from hear on out."

#ayato #ayato genshin impact #kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato imagine #ayato imagines #kamisato ayato imagines #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagine #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #imagine #imagines #x reader

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aquietwritingcorner · 4 months

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Snowfall

@tmnt-event-blog

Title: Snowfall Challenge: TMNT-Event-Blog’s “Snow Day Play” Bingo Card (Leonardo) Prompt: Snowfall Fandom: TMNT 2003 Word Count: 629 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Leonardo Warning: NA Summary: Leo sits on a rooftop, watching the snowfall, and reflects on the city that he loves. Notes: AO3 || ff.net

____________________________________

Snowfall

Leonardo sat on a rooftop. It was cold, and he could feel the cold concrete of the ledge biting into his skin, pulling away at his heat, but he still stayed put, one leg dangling, the other pulled up, foot resting on the ledge, and an arm resting on his knee. It was quiet—well, as quiet at New York City ever got—and he was enjoying the moment.

He’d come out alone, promising that he wouldn’t stay out too long, but feeling restless enough that he needed to get out of the lair for a while. No one faulted him for it. Living so close together all these years, everyone understood the need for a break. As much as Leo loved his family, his brothers could be a little overwhelming from time to time. Taking a moment like this? It was just what he needed.

The wind was cold, chilly, with the promise of snow in it, and Leo knew that he couldn’t stay out in it for too long. But for a little while, he would be fine. He watched as the city moved under him and around him. Cars in the streets, people walking; laughter, music, talking; the smells of food and car exhaust; the streetlights and the Christmas lights twinkling in the dark of the night. It all painted a beautiful picture, at least to Leo. Life, family, community—it all seemed to be reflected right here, a reminder of what he fought for, why he loved this city. For a second, he closed his eyes, letting his other senses take in what was around him, and just being in the moment.

And then he felt something, and he opened his eyes.

Drifting down in front of him, falling in delicate flakes, was snow. Leo blinked, looked at it, and then looked around. It was, indeed, snowing, and the light snowfall was starting to accumulate on things. Below him he could hear the sounds change, as children grinned and called out to their parents and as people commented on the falling snow.

People looked up at the snow, but Leo wasn’t too concerned about being seen. He held still, keeping silent, and most people’s gazes just slipped right past him. After a few minutes, people stopped looking up, but the snow didn’t stop falling. And Leo didn’t stop watching it.

Instead, he sat there, watching as the gentle snowfall decorated the window ledges and canopies, providing a white, reflective blanket for the colored lights that blinked and shone from windows and store fronts. He watched as it dusted men’s hats and got caught in women’s hair, as foot traffic and car tires carved paths in the white flakes, as it built up, providing something of a hush for the city.

Leonardo watched all of this, and found himself relaxing, taking it all in, and watching as the snowfall just added to the beauty of this city, of his home.

Of course, he couldn’t stay up there forever, and eventually he stood, brushing the snow from himself. He knew that once he got home, things would be noisy again. Don would fuss over how cold he was, asking him why he didn’t come home earlier. Mikey would pull him towards the couch, to sit down and warm up. Raph would drape a blanket over him, and then sit beside him, to help him get warmer, grumbling all the while. Splinter would fix him a cup of hot tea and bring it to him. Leo would let them fuss, and accept their help, even relax into it, in his own way.

But as he left the rooftop, he couldn’t help but give one more look around at the falling snow and appreciate its beauty on his city.

#tmnt-event-blog #snow day play #TMNT Leonardo #snowfall #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3

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jkknight98 · 2 years

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Wilbur’s Pov (3rd Times not the charm)

This has been in my drafts nearly finished for months and I wanted to get it done before I started on the next chapter of the Familial Forest Au. While it isn’t a true 2nd part to the first story, its from Wilbur’s mind and a small view of what could come. I hope you guys enjoy this as I try to balance this blog with irl life.

Warning: Soft vore, fear of digestion, digestion mention, fear of death.

Everything had just seemed so normal that day, so ordinary that Wilbur actually felt bored while walking with Tommy, teasing how the kid needed to touch every tree or large rock on the path. It was as if he was following some hidden trail he couldn’t see. But he chalked it up to Tommy’s hybrid traits that weren’t physically visible. “ Do you seriously have to touch every single tree Tommy, you’re going to rub the moss off them and leave them nude~”

He watched Tommy laugh, the blue eyes bright and shining in the sun, but the bright smile on his face quickly dropped as the eyes moved to stare over his shoulders into the brush behind him. His ear twitched at a sound, but before he could turn to investigate, Tommy completely changed. He watched as the boy grew taller (he was already tall, to begin with, but more so) and a flush of red scales led to extended ears, but what made the siren go cold with Terror, was the massive red tail that replaced the legs. This wasn’t his baby brother, not the child Phil found in the woods that grew up with him and his brother, this thing lunging at him was a naga. He let out a scream as the warm tail wrapped tightly around his body, cutting off any chance of escape and half of his air supply as he tried to get away, but he fell silent when a low voice echoed behind him. He froze when he saw an even larger naga, it was acid green in color and had the most menacing mask on its face, a simple smile. What made things whole thing worse was that it was asking why Tommy hadn’t eaten him yet, and when Tommy said he wasn’t attached to him, he let out a soft whine of fear.

He got pissed when Tommy talked about using them for free food, he let out his own hiss at the boy holding him,” Was that all we were to you??? An easy scam until you got bored and decide to eat us in your sleep,” He fought harder as Tommy ignored him to focus on the other naga, which had decided to get close to his face, the mask almost touching him as the eyes glowed with a terrifying hunger,” What are you doing asshole, get away from me you snakeskin freak!!” The monster had the nerve to lick his face, commenting on his taste, and actively tried to take him, but to some bit of relief, Tommy jerked him closer. It pissed him off that they were talking about him as if he wasn’t there, only a slab of meat to be fought over. That small relief was tarnished when Tommy placed his hands on his shoulders, and he was forced to look into the younger’s face, still able to see the boy he loved like a brother under the reptilian features,” Tommy….Please don’t do this... I thought I was your big bro?” He thought he saw a flash of regret pass through those cornflower blue orbs, but they closed just as the maw filled with hidden fangs opened.

Wilbur thought snakes were supposed to be cold-blooded, but as the forked tongue and humming mouth descended onto him, Tommy’s mouth was very warm… and tight as he was shoved further inside. He was back to full panic mode at this point, no longer speaking coherent words as his body fought to get away from the threat, barely noticing the conversation going on outside. He thrashed harder when the gravity changed, Tommy wasn’t going down his body anymore, he was being lifted into the air…. So he would have a straight shot downward. He shrieked as his body slid further towards the low rumbles, he froze with a weak whimper when a hand gripped his own as the body stilled around him, he thought it might have been the other naga who wanted to put more fear into him. The hand gripping his gently rubbed his knuckles the same way he had rubbed Tommy’s when the boy lost his first tooth and thought he was going to lose all of them… was that Tommy trying to comfort him… but he realized he was wrong as the naga swallowed hard.

He wailed as he was shoved harshly against a fleshy wall, forcing his head and neck into his shoulders as the flesh around him started to stretch as more of his body was shoved inside. The walls seemed to rumble in satisfaction, pressing into him and rubbing slime into his skin and clothing. The moment that his hands came free he tried shoving the walls away from him, especially when he felt outside pressure against him. All of his senses were filled with the presence of Tommy, he could hear anything but the body around him, feel the walls compressing him with every rumble, and his limited night vision let him see the rippling pink flesh around him. He fought as hard as he could against the flesh, but the walls let out a very loud rumble as they crushed into his form, forcing his arms and legs into his chest, and making him into a less-than-agreeable lump. “Tommy I’m begging you, Let me out!!! We can work something out.”

He couldn’t hear the other naga but could hear Tommy yelling at them, he was too tired to fight anymore as he listened in to Tommy's side of the situation. He got interested as the boy spoke as if this naga used to know him, were they his guardian before Phil found them, and decided they were nothing but an easy meal ticket for them….will he go back for them once he’s… He flinched when he felt pressure against his head, it wasn’t forceful..but almost as if his head was being stroked through the layers of flesh. He pressed back at the feeling with some hesitance, maybe….maybe Tommy was just keeping him here until the other naga left. That could be entirely possible, he didn't trick them for so long right?? He was just a kid, what child makes up a horrible plan like that?

He was so hopeful… everything got so quiet outside the bodily noises,” Tommy…?” The boy didn’t say anything to him, but the walls around him did. The flesh tightened around him suddenly, the wet embrace almost crushing the breath out of him as the floor below him softened as the pressure returned to shove him downwards. Oh, he was so wrong.

So so wrong…

This is what being digested felt like…

He fought and screamed as he was shoved further into the digestive tract of the monster with the face of a child, feeling stronger muscles than the ones in the throat drag him down away from the heart and lungs, he was too panicked himself to notice how equally as panicked the other was. The walls changed temperature and texture, being cooler and much rougher, and as they ground into his legs as he was fed further into it… they were clearly made to crush anything that entered them. He couldn’t hear the heartbeat anymore, only the deeper gurgling of the new walls, and it made him feel alone without that last bit of comfort.

He fought as the walls crushed him, almost breaking his glasses, and used his shaking arms to try and give himself more breathing room. He could faintly hear Tommy yelling again at the other naga, probably proving that there was no way the other could take..his meal now. The man didn’t realize he was crying at first, his face already so covered with slime, it only occurred to him when his breath began to hitch. He was going to die here, no one but Tommy would know what happened to him, and would he only be remembered as a forcefully early taken meal. What would his family get to bury?

He continued to cry as the walls pressed in again, thinking that it was just the normal contractions of the stomach around him until they moved as if something was rubbing at him in a purposeful manner. He felt a rush of rage at the thought of Tommy rubbing at him to make him squirm more, but before he could yell into the unforgiving walls, he stopped when he heard the boy's voice.

“Wilbur… Wilbur calm down, it's going to be ok, I’m going to let you out alright.”

Calm down…. Calm down?? How could someone be calm after being eaten and hearing everything that was just said about them?! “Don’t fucking lie to me you bastard, You've already eaten me, why are you keeping up the act??” Wilbur flailed hard against the slimy walls, grimacing as this just made the organ growl lowly and compress him with a crushing embrace. He froze as he heard Tommy apologize and call himself a monster…. Echoing the same thing Wilbur had said when this whole mess started. Did…Did Tommy really just do this to protect him from the other Naga… he flinched when he felt the large body move around him, Tommy was on the move somewhere at a fast pace. Why would he be moving so fast if he was just going to digest him…Phil always told them not to run on a full stomach unless they wanted to get..sick. He slowly brought his hands up to gently rub the walls, hardly believing that he was doing it, and smiled when he heard the same rumbling purr the boy would try to hide when he was happy.

How could he be so dumb..

Tommy would never do anything like that to him.

`=`

Wilbur awoke with a quiet gasp as he wrapped his arms around himself, shaken from the dream of smothering walls that dripped with slime and sounded with the beating of his brother's heart. It had been a few weeks since the incident and after Tommy nearly ran away after talking with Phil and Techno, things were almost back to normal with Tommy embracing his true form. But Wilbur couldn’t escape the experience in his sleep…but it wasn’t a nightmare, even if he almost wished it was. He tried to hide his conflicted feelings the best he could, but he couldn’t help but sneak glances at his brother as he ate, freezing if he heard his stomach growl, and would let Tommy hug him longer than he used to. He was slightly fearful that Tommy was starting to notice his behavior… especially when the youngest would talk about wanting coffee more than he used to, especially after he confessed to Wilbur on that's how he tasted.

He couldn’t help but jump when there was a quick knock on his door and a softy whispered voice,” Wilby…can I talk with you?”

#soft vore #safe vore #mcyt vore #mcyt g/t community #jkknight story

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grimalkinmessor · 1 year

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Near from Death Note for the character headcanon ask game

I love Near he's my baby ^.^

Fluffy-

As an adult his favorite toys are actually rubix cubes; not because they're hard for him to do, but because he can switch around the colors and push them together to make pictures. It's like forming his own, more complicated puzzles, and he often tries to build them so they have different pictures on each side. Roger hates it because he'll walk in and there's just a huge WALL of rubix cubes in the middle of the room and he can't risk knocking them over on pain of death disappointment.

He learned how to braid hair from Mello when they were young, and it becomes a bit of a stim as his hair gets longer. It stays almost perpetually tangled and he has to get someone to help him brush it after a bath. He gets a bag of ribbons once and spends the rest of the day making a whole rainbow of braids in his hair.

Mello used to give him pieces of his chocolate, but because Mello freezes his chocolate bars and Near has sensory issues, he usually just likes to let the square sit in his mouth and melt instead of eating it normally. You can give him a square of chocolate and come back an hour later and he'll still be holding it in his mouth.

Near is a bit like a cat in that he likes to hide in invisible spaces. He'll disappear for several hours and all of his agents go nuts trying to find him, thinking his been kidnapped, only to find him playing solitaire on top of the fridge, and the only reason they saw him is because he scared the hell out of Giovanni by asking him to grab a card that he'd dropped. The people at Wammy's quickly got used to it—it takes his agents far longer lmao.

While Near hates actually being outside, he really enjoys laying out in the sun. He will move his toys across the floor to follow the patches of sunlight throughout the day. There was a sun room at Wammy's, and if he wasn't curled up in one of the library window seats, he was down there sprawled out on one of the couches. In the winter he builds himself a blanket nest near one of the radiators and refuses to move. You will have forcibly pry him away from his chosen spot unless you give him a very good reason to vacate it.

Angsty-

Near's mother gave him up voluntarily. He was the product of an abusive relationship and she just couldn't bear to look at him anymore, so she left him in a bundle on the doorstep of an orphanage with his birth certificate and never looked back. Near looked her up once as an adult out of curiosity—she's living happily with her wife somewhere down in France. Near leaves her alone.

He only knows four (4) languages fluently—even though he picks them up very quickly—and it's through conscious choice. Given that he already struggles with verbal nuances in his home tongue, he only learns new languages when he has to. He much prefers to communicate either through text or sign language because he's gotten in trouble a few too many times with his 'monotonous' tone of voice.

Near never actually gave a shit about becoming the next L. He didn't care about upholding his legacy or carrying out L's justice—he just was so much like L in his mannerisms that Wammy's pushed him far harder towards that path than the others. He's been told he should be a detective for so long that he just accepted that he would be one instead of actually examining what he wanted to do with his life. Detective work is fun to an extent, but Near doesn't really enjoy it. At least, not without something to make it interesting.

Near fucking hates food. He hates it. The act of eating makes him queasy a lot of the time simply because he dislikes the texture of a lot of foods in his mouth. It is a struggle to get him to eat literally anything. The human function of having a digestive tract and needing to consume food annoys him deeply. What he can handle varies from day to day too, so Roger can't easily work around his dietary restrictions like Watari did for L. Some days he can eat two whole meals with minimal struggle, and other days it's a fight to get him to eat literally anything.

Despite telling Mello that he gave him the only remaining photo of him, that was a lie. Near kept a copy of it in a lockbox back in America in one of his safe houses, and he went back for it after the Kira case was over. He keeps it in his shirt, close to his heart, and he keeps meaning to make a necklace out of it but always bails before he has to hand over the picture. Every year on Mello's birthday, he'll go to the spot he died and curl up against his gravestone and whisper little apologies for lying to him about it. Most years he falls asleep out there and Giovanni has to come fetch him in the morning.

#near #nate river #headcanons #death note #tw food issues

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will80sbyers · 2 years

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part one

part two

part three

part four

this is the final chapter, part 5!

Enjoy and thank you for reading!! 😊

______________________

They arrived in Hawkins the next day, in the morning. Jonathan decided to make only a brief stop to use the bathroom at a gas station and buy some snacks for the road. All of them wanted to get back as soon as possible, the encounter with Sullivan had left them uneasy.

Will was feeling nervous. He immediately knew that the anger that grew inside him was not entirely his own, but he hadn’t found a way to stop it, and was letting it prevail without meaning to.

It was the first thing he had felt as the van passed the big sign welcoming them back in their hometown. That anger was accompanied by a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. The shivers of fear, that seemed to be a warning against a predator. Will knew in that moment that Vecna was not dead. They had lost.

The shock of that knowledge was soon replaced by the scenery that was all around them. Hawkins was destroyed. Enormous cracks had formed and devoured buildings on their path. People were going around in a frenzy, packing their belongings, and getting ready to leave.

Will looked at Mike, still sitting beside him. It was a reflex, he always searched for reassurance in him. He hated it. He didn’t want to feel like this for him anymore, and he was sick of his games.

He remembered Mike trying to touch his hand in the van and the anger pierced his brain again. How could he do that while El was sleeping near him? What was he thinking? Was this all a game to him? A sick prank?

Will managed to stop that train of thoughts.

No. Mike was not like that. There must have been another reason. He couldn’t start thinking like that, he had to wait for an explanation from him.

These thoughts were not his... it was Henry.

Will still remembered how scared he was when the Mindflayer had taken over his body, how filthy and wrong it had felt. He still had to fight with the night terrors that came after, when he was back to himself. He still, to this day, spent some nights lying awake in bed, thinking about how it was his fault that a lot of people had died. How it was partly his fault that Bob had died. Will was still searching for a way to stop the pain that overwhelmed him in those moments. The guilt of having hurt so many people by making the mistake of not running away from the shadow, was always with him.

Mike turned his head towards him, as if he had sensed Will watching him. They locked eyes for a moment. Will noticed that Mike’s brown eyes were shining, a few silent tears were rolling down his cheeks.

He felt his anger slowly fade away, replaced by sorrow. He knew that Mike Wheeler was going to be the only boy he would ever love in his life and he wished he could carry his pain for him. Will was used to it, he thought, he could bear it for both.

Jonathan took the road that would have brought them to the Wheeler’s home, and no one dared to speak a word until they arrived on the driveway.

…

He felt the shivers again outside the cabin.

The news of Hopper being alive had reinvigorated the moral of the group after they had come back from the hospital to visit Max, but Will knew that the worst was still coming for them. Vecna was alive out there, and they had to find him. They had to kill him.

The particles of the Upside down that looked like ash were falling all around them. Eleven approached him as soon as she saw him touch the back of his neck.

«Will?» she asked.

His mother, Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy and Mike all watched him now, clearly worried and confused by what was happening.

«I can feel him.» he said. «Follow me.»

They walked through the woods until they arrived at the clearing that allowed them to have a view of the whole town. Black smoke rose from the four gigantic cracks that scarred Hawkins. Half of the flowers on the clearing had withered away, the red, yellow and blue colors slowly fading in a burned gray.

They watched in stunned silence, observing the disaster in front of them, until Hopper decided to break it.

«Let’s go back to the cabin. We can’t do anything about it now, kid.» He said to Eleven. She walked back to her father and his mother, that were already holding hands, and took Hopper’s free hand.

They walked away, followed by Nancy and Jonathan.

Will didn’t move.

«Are you coming?» Mike was standing behind him and lightly touched his hand. That touch alone sent an electric current through Will’s body. He moved his hand away, hastily.

«What the hell, Mike!» he snapped, turning back towards his best friend.

They were staring at each other now. Will was struck by Mike’s beauty; the sun had found a way to reach him despite the black smoke that was filling the sky behind them. Will felt his anger decrease.

How could he be angry while he was staring at a work of art. Mike’s face looked like the combination of mathematical and artistic perfection to Will. His sculpted jawline and pronounced cheekbones had always made him want to draw him. He had tried too many times to capture him on paper, but he was never satisfied of the results. They were never quite perfect as the original. Will came back to himself and saw that Mike had taken a few steps back. He looked hurt and confused, and Will’s eyes started to well up with tears of frustration. They had to talk, he had to ask him.

«Do you think this is funny? » he whispered.

Mike’s confusion seemed only to grow.

«No. That’s not… I wasn’t thinking… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable» his tone was apologetic.

« I’m sorry» he said finally.

«Can I ask you a question?» Will said, and Mike nodded, wary.

«Did you mean it? At the motel… you called me pretty.» Will stared at the ground between them, the blue and yellow flowers were still untouched by Vecna’s curse on the town.

Once he had asked, Will found the strength to look at Mike’s face again and discovered that… his best friend was blushing?

«Yes.» Mike admitted.

«I think I need to go» Will was about to run away, but Mike moved faster, standing in front of him.

«Hey! No. You are not going to leave me before we talk. Please!»

«And what about El, Mike? She’s my sister!» Will raged.

«We broke up at the pizza place, Will.» Mike got closer to him and took his hands. Will was stunned. He looked at their intertwined hands and then looked up at Mike. The other boy was smiling at him, almost beaming from emotion.

He continued. «I broke up with her… because of you. Since your speech in the van… and the painting… Will, I… What you said about me in the van, about me being the heart, it made me realize that I think about you as more than just my best friend. I’m sorry. I thought… I mean, maybe it’s dumb and just wishful thinking, but…. I thought you felt the same about me. I know that El did not commission the painting and… I thought… maybe… maybe you were talking about yourself…. About us.»

Will was in shock. His mind was full of literal white noise.

«I was.» he said.

He didn’t know when exactly his heart had started to beat so fast. He was feeling lightheaded, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

«You were?» Mike’s smile was the final shot through his heart. «Thank god… I thought I was going crazy.» He chuckled to himself.

Will started to laugh too.

«Crazy together?» he said, a few tears were streaming down his eyes.

Mike gently wiped the tears away from his cheek, then he smiled slyly and cupped Will’s face with his hands, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

Will’s heart stopped for the second time that evening.

After their first kiss, Mike was watching him to understand his reaction, and Will went in for another kiss. He needed more than that, he needed Mike to be closer. He needed Mike to never stop kissing him.

They kissed gently and then with more passion than he had ever thought a kiss could have. They were both acting like air wasn’t really a priority for survival. Mike broke them apart at one point and just hugged him tightly, Will felt giddy and warm all over. He wanted to stay in that hug forever and wanted to go back to kissing Mike at the same time.

«So… you really think I’m pretty, uh?» Will said, playful and intrigued by the idea of making Mike blush for a second time.

«Shut up» Mike smiled, and they kissed again.

The world they knew before that moment in the clearing had ended, but Will decided that he liked this one much more.

He would fight to keep it, no matter what happened next.

#byler #mini fanfiction by me #mine #final chapter #forgive me bc it's late lol #mike wheeler #will byers #byler fanfiction

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daisys-gard3n · 2 years

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Flores Malorum {Giorno x Mateo}

cw: yandere and obsessive behavior, sex scenes, implied murder, implied miscarriage and r*pe allegation, giogio v screwy in the head

commissioned by @ladybugblues @neratics

Giorno wasn’t particularly a man of religion, but maybe there was something going on with the concept of ‘fate’. Two people coming together because of ‘God’s will’ bringing them close together, attracting each other thanks to the concept of ‘gravity’. Maybe Giorno should thank god, thank him for bringing him the most precious thing he could ever obtain – thank god for blessing him with a soulmate that came to him, now he knows to make sure to never let go.

It was a wonder how Giorno made it this far into his life. Listlessly walking around, not having a true purpose in life. It was fuzzy, but he could see that art was a part of it but never understood why. Sure, he enjoyed painting and learning those before him and it even helped him discover his minor in flower arrangement. He was always attracted to plant life and flowers in general, although it was difficult to pinpoint why. It just guided him gently towards him furthering his education:

Denyrae School of Art: “obsessio est passio quae agit in futurum”. Translated to: “obsession is the passion that drives the future”.

The school phrase is hammered into everyone’s brain from the moment they step on campus, it confused Giorno for the longest time. He was never truly ‘obsessed’ with his work, that sounded rather unhealthy in his opinion. Wouldn’t that drive you insane to think of your passion twenty-four seven? When he brought this up to his upperclassman and pseudo mentor, Bruno Buccellati, during one of their still life painting sessions: Bruno only smiled at him and laughed with exuberance as his brush left streaks of oil paint onto the canvas that slowly lost its pure white color to replicate the still life set up in front of Bruno.

“You’ll understand once you find what your ‘obsession’ is, Giovanna. Just relax a bit, it’ll come to you naturally. Fate has an interesting way of letting you know when the time comes around…When you want it so bad that you think of it all day, everyday…When you yearn for it and want it for yourself and yourself alone, then you’ll know.” All Giorno could do in the moment was crinkle his brows in confusion whilst his raven-haired mentor continued to replicate the set up with precision. Nevertheless, he decided to not worry about the concept for a while. He had prerequisite classes he needed to focus on after all: drawing, painting, arranging, and mindlessly gulping down latte after latte was only thing running through Giorno’s mind throughout the first half his freshman year. It wasn’t until his sophomore year that he started to find himself in the right path, and it began with his figure drawing class. The usual model of the class was switched with another nude model, nothing too serious. Giorno shuffled around his art box to find the tools he needed, not paying attention who was standing on the elevated platform whilst his professor gave directions on what pose to make to the model. When Giorno finally looked up, he was taken aback for a moment. Sure, he didn’t expect the usual model Melone to be there, but he didn’t expect a large and muscular man to be taking his place: such a rich golden tan with dark tattoos on his muscular arms that contrasted against his skin wonderfully, raven-black hair that fell past his shoulders and cascaded in the way he was lounging on the chair the professor set up for him, the red and green dyed stands of his bangs laying over some of his face. His eyes were like pools of wine, they sparkled with a carefree attitude as he laughed and made small talk with some of the people he knew in the class while class was getting into gear. Giorno shook his head, finding it laughable that he found himself ogling at some guy. What was he, fifteen? Giorno had work to do: taking out his vine charcoal and sketching the form of the man in front of him, completely in focus until he was snapped out of it.

“Hey! Giorno, right?”

Giorno looked up from the skeleton of his drawing to see this new model gazing down at him from the elevated platform as he lounged on the odd-looking chair. Confused for a moment, he couldn’t recall meeting this man anywhere or understand why he was trying to make small talk with him. The dark-haired man had such a warm smile, that Giorno couldn’t deny, sent a small flutter to the blonde’s chest.

“En La Musica Café, vanilla latte with double espresso shots? You get the same thing every time you come in, it’s not that hard to remember you…I’m usually the one who takes your order, Mateo.”

Oh lord, this was rather embarrassing…He was brought into such a state of delirium and caffeine dependency, Giorno didn’t even register the faces he was looking at whilst searching for caffeine? A light pink dusted his ears, flustered slightly as he cleared his voice awkwardly.

“Y-Yes, that would be me.”

“I’ve always wanted to come up and talk to you, but your nose is usually buried in that sketchbook of yours, but it’s understandable…The prereq classes here are insane. So glad I never have to do that again…You’re a sophomore?” Giorno nodded, beginning to multitask with his hand sketching out the rest of Mateo’s body, “I’m a senior, I’m hoping to graduate by the end of the semester if everything goes my way…But y’know, things happen.”

Mateo’s extroverted and bright personality is certainly a contrast to Giorno’s antisocial and demure one, in fact he did most of the talking whilst Giorno drew which would end up getting a playful ‘shut up’ from one of the other students he was friendly with. It took a bit to getting used to, since the blonde didn’t really have anyone come up to him at the levels Mateo was at – the most he got was women thinking he was cute and shyly flirting with him, but giorno always softly turned them down or put distance in between. Was it because Giorno spent too much time with his face buried in art history textbooks and fingers cramping from holding his art utensils that having someone like Mateo metaphorically come up to him and offer a sense of interaction made a small flutter in his chest? Usually Giorno avoided the super extroverted types, but this time…It was rather welcoming. As time flew, the sound of charcoal and erasers rubbing against paper and the chatter of the model at the center of the room with Giorno, the professor, and some of the other students with breaks in between made it seem like seconds. As the class transitioned into clean up time for the next class, Giorno neatly put his tools back in his violet art box. The muted sound of sandals sneaking up to his desk didn’t go unnoticed, green eyes looking up to see Mateo eyeing his piece and whistling as his burgundy eyes traveled on the ecru-colored page – widened with awe.

“Oh wow! You a drawing major? This is some insane detail.”

“No, I’m actually a painting major.”

“Shit, if this is what you can do with a pencil you gotta do some amazing things with a paintbrush!”

“O-Oh…Thank you.” The blonde rubbed the back of his neck out of bashfulness, his cheeks slightly reddening with flow of blood rising closer to his skin. His chest tightened, his heart flipped with pride – it was rather stranger…Considering that Giorno hadn’t gotten these feelings since he was in middle school, a simple compliment from Mateo made such a giddy reaction within him…Was unexpected but Giorno didn’t find it abhorrent. Mateo fished his phone out of his robe pocket, unlocking it and asking the blonde if he was allowed to take a picture of it to turn in as proof he modeled that day. After he snapped a picture of the charcoal drawing, Mateo tapped on the screen a couple of times before turning it towards Giorno. The LED screen displaying a blank contact information with the digital keyboard pulled up ready for someone to type in the empty spaces.

“Let’s get together sometime? Figured it would be better to ask earlier than later, since I’ll be seeing you around the shop.”

“Ah…Alright…” Giorno reached out to grasp onto the red case of the phone, momentarily making skin contact with Mateo’s fingers – it was like a shock of electricity running through his veins, flustering Giorno a little more as he quickly typed in his name and phone number before handing it back to the slightly taller man. Who gave him a smile filled with such an addicting warmth, excitedly telling Giorno that he’ll see him around later before turning away to go and change into his regular clothes.

One could call this planting the seeds of yearning.

Giorno felt more…Alert? Aware?...Alive? Ever since meeting Mateo, it was like the opaque veil of confusion was lifted from his eyes just ever so slightly and the path started to become a bit clearer. He was enjoying his days more, visiting the coffee shop to see Mateo with the sleeves of his cerise red shirt rolled past his elbows as he worked the espresso machine for different orders, to pass along to one of his co-workers. A smile appearing on his plump lips when he notices the blonde, greeting him and getting straight to his order. Mateo would go on break everyone in a while to sit over at Giorno’s table to chat, look at whatever he was sketching this time around, sometimes sneaking him an extra pastry before going back to work. Whenever Giorno didn’t visit En La Musica, Mateo invited him out for either drinks, going out to eat, or to some exhibit Mateo thought Giorno would like. The blonde hadn’t been taking advantage of his college opportunities to focus on studies, so being with Mateo was truly Giorno’s first experiences with hanging around friends and going out often. Something he used to watch the kids in high school do with their friends as he sat by himself, a small part of him yearning for company like that. It truly has lifted Giorno’s mood as of recently, it even reflected it in his works as he channeled more romantic than baroque in his style. Earning a cheeky smile from Bruno as he expressed a twinge of childish glee that Giorno was ‘starting to get the hang of it’. Whatever that meant.

Eventually, Giorno is welcomed into Mateo’s apartment. The two men were coming back from an outing and it had began to rain, Mateo offering to let Giorno stay the night since his place was the closest. The scent of spices and musk hitting his nose as the fusion of modern and rustic interior décor greeted him as the dark-haired man flipped the light switch up. The blonde was offered some spare clothes to sleep in whilst the ones he was wearing were put into the wash and allowed to use the shower – hot water running down his pale skin and soaking through his long blonde hair, Giorno reached for the shampoo bottle and took a small whiff…If Giorno had gotten closer to him…Is this what his hair would smell like? Musk and ocean with a hint of mint.

Pushing the thought to the side, Giorno squirted the shampoo in his hands and rubbed his through his hair to create a lather.

The Latin man was built much more broad and wider than Giorno, so his clothes on him draped lower than average. Carefully taking some of the collar of the t-shirt, pressing the fabric to his nose and slowly breathing in the fresh cotton scent of his laundry detergent mixing in with a hint Mateo’s natural scent from wearing it for a while. It created those butterflies lodged in Giorno’s chest, tight yet it radiated a warmth that he’d grown accustomed to. The two young men lounged around for a bit as the time dipped its toes into the night, watching whatever movie the subscription app had at the moment until it was eventually time for bed. Giorno was given a pillow and some blankets for his time on the plush brick red couch, being let off with a good night from Mateo as he shut the lights off and travelled into his own bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Giorno turned onto his side, getting settled into the couch and the pillow under his head. The familiar scent of Mateo engulfing his senses, a warmth that lulled Giorno into a sleep as he snuggled into the black blanket for the night. Oh, could he really be allowed to enjoy something like this? Mateo…Was just a friend…Should Giorno really be acting so giddy? It was unclear, but for the moment he decided to enjoy his drift to sleep. It was pretty good; however he was a rather light sleeper, so it was only natural he had to wake up eventually. The blonde man sat up from the couch, half asleep as his throat stung at him for a beverage. Standing up, Giorno sought out Mateo’s kitchen – gently flicking the lights on to find a glass. Once he had properly quenched his thirst, his attention was brought to a woman’s purse on the counter. It was odd, he didn’t recall it being there before when he walked in all those hours ago. Giorno’s brain slowly began to register the muted and repetitive creaking noises, all coming from Mateo’s bedroom. Naturally, it would be polite to not snoop around someone’s matters especially if you were in their home…But something in Giorno told him to check it out, just to settle this irking curiosity. The closer he got to the door to Mateo’s room, he could hear: panting, moaning, and gasps at a variety of lowered volumes alongside the creaking. The door was ajar just slightly, enough for one of Giorno’s emerald green eyes to get a view of what was causing the noise:

“Fuck, you gotta be such a slut~?”

“Oh c’mon, sugar, you love it~”

There Giorno could see Mateo’s large and tanned back, forming sweat as he was bent over a woman’s body. Her pale legs wrapped around his bare waist as he rutted into her sopping cunt, Mateo’s big and tatted arms reaching around for his hands to grab onto this unknown woman’s hips. Grunting as he felt himself reach closer to his climax as the woman let out a string of erotic moans, inciting a laugh from the young man.

“Keep it down, I got company. Hnng, fuck- You don’t wanna wake him up, do you?”

“I saw him fast asleep on your couch, he’s quite handsome. H-Hahh…Blondes are so cute. Maybe he’ll wanna join in if he does~”

“You better hope he doesn’t-hnng, fuck. Don’t wanna explain why I got someone twice my age sneaking in my bed and beggin’ for cock like a teenager. Unless you want’em to see this pussy full of cum.~”

“Oh you!-Ahhh~!” The woman sat up, her arms wrapping around Mateo’s broad shoulders and searing him into a messy kiss. Giorno could see momentarily her bright red hair, moaning into Mateo’s mouth as she ruts against him to finally cum herself. He could vaguely recognize her as the same redhead that took over Mateo’s place at the cash register when he was busy, her girly handwriting on Giorno’s cup and how she would flirt with him subtly with a smile on her ruby red lips. Oh, see her all over Mateo…Giorno’s hands balled into fists that trembled slightly, the rage boiling inside of him and coiled around him as if he was trapped in a pit of snakes. Who was this woman…To be so disgraceful as to spread her legs open when he was just in the next room over…And this woman was in her forties? This was someone’s mother moaning like a whore as she took Mateo’s dick. It didn’t make sense for Giorno to be so angry, it wasn’t his right to be…But god, he didn’t give a fuck. Eyebrows furrowing as rage shook through his system, having to peel his emerald eyes away from the scene before anything could happen as he thudded over to the couch. Gripping onto the pillow with both of his hands, trying to squeeze out his anger before any trouble happened…He needed to relax, he needed to vent…He needed to get rid of these strong emotions. As his eyes hazed over with his anger, Giorno’s nails dug into the cloth of the pillow below…His mind transferring from reality into delusion, translating the shape of the pillow into the shape of this woman – making Giorno see that he was choking her with his bare hands. Gritting his teeth, he felt his hands squeeze tighter at the image of that woman…That whore…Her body on Mateo’s set Giorno aflame, a demon taking over his body and letting these toxic feelings take control. Hearing those two fuck in the next room over only helped fuel this flame, his heart pumping blood faster and faster…Oh, that woman was asking for it. The seeds sprouted from the ground.

Giorno was always terrible at controlling his anger, even as a kid he couldn’t keep it to himself for no longer than twenty-four hours. It somehow became less in the morning, Giorno couldn’t even dream to sleep with his blood boiling. Seeing this red-headed woman waltz around in one of Mateo’s shirts in the morning, earning a playful smack on the ass from Mateo as he cooked and the flirty comments they gave each other. This ugly feeling wrapping Giorno’s heart, a feeling called jealousy.

Jealousy was the one who found this woman, who was named Romance, in a bar. Jealousy was the one who sat next to her and started chatting her up, under the guise of a charming man and taking her hand for the night. Jealousy was the one who kissed her like he loved her until she was vulnerable enough for his hands to wrap around that fragile throat and squeeze. Jealousy was the one who watched Romance struggle for air, trying to claw at his hands to escape until the light left her amethyst eyes as she fell limp in his arms. And just like that, Jealousy helped Giorno overcome this ugly feeling as he accompanied him whilst Giorno had to deal with the aftermath – leaving her in the bathtub to bleed out until she was empty enough to chop up without making a huge mess. Thanks to Jealousy, Giorno could safely store away parts of that woman and dispose the rest, allowing him to have Mateo all to himself.

Why would you do this to her, Giorno asked.

Because Mateo is yours and yours alone, you’re in love with him. Aren’t you? Jealousy laughed.

And Jealousy was right, Giorno was able to have Mateo all to himself without her in the way. And how that happened quite smoothly. To be sitting in Mateo’s home once more without the presence of Romance anywhere, as the man himself was sat by Giorno on the brick red couch: Mateo bounced his leg out of anxiety whilst one of his hands wiped the sweat off itself against his jeans and the other hand with his phone. As if he was ready to take the call the second it rang with good news.

“I-I don’t know, I haven’t heard from Romance in a few days. She’s a free spirit but she never…And I mean NEVER forgets to at least let someone know where she’s going…S-She hasn’t been answering her phone, no one can get to her…She didn’t take anything but a purse. God, what…W-What if she’s in serious trouble?”

“I’m sure the authorities are working hard to find Romance.” Giorno placed a hand on Mateo’s back. It wasn’t hard to see that this was eating away at Mateo, it looked like he didn’t get sleep in days: darkened undereye circles, eyes slightly red and puffy from crying out of stress, and slightly tattered from ignoring his own basic needs. Giorno bit his tongue back, that woman dare to linger in Mateo’s mind? How cruel, she’s clearly making him suffer with all this unnecessary worrying. Yet this was rather a blessing in disguise, having the Latino clinging to him for comfort and getting the privilege of walking in whenever he wanted into Mateo’s apartment. Even when Giorno executed the socially acceptable leaving time, even if he didn’t want to, Mateo would quickly grab onto Giorno’s wrist with a grip tight like a child not wanting a mother to leave them alone. Asking if he could stay a little longer or stay the night, that anxious look in his wine-red eyes, oh how simply adorable he was…Giorno could never refuse such a request such as that. Days passed as Mateo reached out to Giorno for comfort, either by hanging out in between classes, inviting him over to the shop until closing, or over to either of their apartments. Giorno treasured each hint of skin contact he was allowed to have, whether that would be handing something off or Mateo wrapping a friendly arm around his shoulders when chatting with some of his other friends with Giorno tagging along…Sometimes, when Mateo was deep asleep on the couch after the movie he put on finished – the blonde would go closer to him, just to hold onto his hand and to see Mateo subconsciously return the favor when Giorno’s fingers were laced in between. Just to press an ear to his broad chest to listen to his heartbeat and pulled into that warmth he oh-so adored. Pulling away just in time before Mateo stirred awake. The plant was growing taller and taller every day, leaves had begun to sprout. Eventually, there would be rewards to reap from all this constant coddling and comforting – one night, on a waxing crescent moon, the two young men came back from an unrelated event. Mateo lingered behind as Giorno had taken off his shoes and his socked feet padded on the wooden floor, hands going to unravel his classic braid.

“Are you thinking another movie tonight? One of my classmates actually recommended this one film we could watch-“

“Hey…Giorno?” The blonde stopped mid-sentence, turning over to the slightly taller man as his fingers wove the strands of hair out of the braid and letting fall into golden-blonde waves. He tilted his head questioningly, a que to let Mateo speak his mind. “There’s…Been something on my mind lately…Got some advice on it earlier and…I think it’s about time I get it off my chest.”

“Oh?” Giorno watched Mateo come closer to him, his heart nearly pounding against his ribs. Oh, that determined sparkle in his eyes…How he looked so serious…Could it be? The love confession he had been dreaming of for such a long time? Trying to keep himself calm, Giorno bit the inside of his cheek and watched carefully as Mateo made a full stop in front of him. Oh god, he smelled so good and he could tell he was nervous. Giorno could jump for joy right now, all the body language was giving him the impression of a confession. “You’ve…Been there for me for some time now. You didn’t leave when I was going through the worst parts of my stress, the whole situation with Romance…And I think…I think I like you…Like��A lot. Even before when we didn’t talk to each other, how you would come into the shop and just have your head stuck in your sketchbook for hours at a time…You were so fascinating to me, and modeling for Professor Straizo was possibly one of the best decisions I’ve made in a while…It’s gotten me closer to you, to find out who you are as a person. And all this time we’ve spent together, how you’re so calm and assuring to me…How you’re so kind…It’s made be realized that…I’ve been developing feelings for you…And I just wanna let you know, that it’s okay if you don’t accept my feelings or this is a bit sudden. But I wanted to be honest with you-“

“Mateo.” The raven-haired man was cut off and taken aback a bit, blinking as the man in front of him smiled – so warm and green eyes glittering with affection. One of Giorno’s hand reached out, brushing away the green and red strands of his bangs before his cool and soft hand cupped the side of his phase. Their noses were just barely touching, blood rising to Mateo’s skin with the anticipation killing his heart. Giorno could tell just from the way he glanced at his lips what he was expecting: Why not give it to him? Pulling him closer to press his lips against his, to taste the mint and tequila on his lips – good god was it a rush, like an intoxicating buzz that Giorno wanted to consume more of. However, he held back, in fear of scaring Mateo off with his eagerness by pulling away just to see that cute and flustered look on the dark-haired man’s face.

“I love you too.” Giorno laughed, watching carefully at how Mateo seemed flabbergasted at what he just did to him. Eyes widen and mouth agape slightly, flustered and blood rushing to the surface under his olive skin. It was so adorable, and oh how Giorno’s heart swelled looking at his beloved – it just made him want to kiss him again. “What? Don’t believe me?”

“I-I…Um…Sorry, it’s just…Never thought you’d…Y’know…Like me too.” His eyes shifting away as he muttered, feeling shy when now confronted with the possibility of having his feelings being returned. Giorno’s smile hadn’t faltered, his other hand coming up and resting just below Mateo’s shoulder. Fingers dragging down slowly on his maroon shirt, resulting in a dry gulp from the taller man. The hand that was cupping his face removed itself as Giorno’s slim fingers traced down his jawline and stopped just below his chin. “Believe that I do, and have for quite sometime…Would you like to confirm it yourself?”

“Y…Yes.”

Finally having what he wanted in his grasp, Giorno could bind Mateo to him like a calculating python. Using Mateo’s own sweltering passion to put him into a state of yearning, to take his hand to lead to his bedroom with small whispers that it wasn’t going to be ‘much’. Was Giorno going to fast? To an outsider’s view, yes he was. But they don’t understand – how good it feels to hold the man you love in your arms as his lips are against your, to have wandering hands on him and on your body, all until the two of you are panting and can’t handle it anymore. Love is so addicting, each kiss leading to Giorno falling flat against the mattress as the older man climbed on top of him. Their touches going as far as to undo each button or pulling clothes off each other to toss to the side, to feel his hot skin so close and the smell luring him into such a wild frenzy. Giorno felt like he was in heaven, a dream he didn’t want to wake up from to savor each second of every minute. To pull the Latino down and lock lips with him, the longer the two went at it the more comfortable they got with different techniques, as his hands traveled down his bare chest and started to feel him up down below. That’s how they did it in adult films, right? But it wasn’t something to worry about for now, since Mateo so graciously saw that this was Giorno’s first time – deciding to take the lead for this one time, just to teach what he could do to him next time. A tongue so hot and a mouth so warm wrapped around his most private of areas and fingers that coerced him into a calmer state for what was the come. So full, so big, so happy as Giorno’s mouth opened with gasps and pants like a tune of a nymph’s flute, coming up to shut Mateo’s own grunts and groans with his lips against his. Legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his broad shoulders, holding onto the dark-haired man so tightly as they rutted against each other. That wonderous build up and filled with Mateo’s cum as his own spurted onto his abdomen and some onto his lover’s, the pure bliss of the realization that he was finally all Giorno’s and Giorno’s alone. The flowers were budding, ready to burst as Giorno held Mateo in his arms after their long night that entered the early hours of the morning. How he looked so calm and at peace with his body finally allowing him to rest, letting him be completely vulnerable in Giorno’s arms. Just to have these moments was worth the protecting to Giorno. To have days passing: greeted by the taller man who kissed him sweetly on the lips with a ‘good morning’, fingers interlocking as they walk side-by-side down the street, to have those warm hugs with that scent that filled Giorno’s stomach with butterflies and flowers growing in his lungs, to have those sweet words cooed at him and him alone with eyes coated in affection and innocence. Is this what it’s like to feel alive? Giorno finally understood what Bruno said all those weeks ago – he couldn’t stand the thought of being without Mateo, how it fills his brain and flows through his veins, how each breath was dedicated to his lover and his lover alone. Sketching each day and filling up notepads to the brim with Mateo in seemingly every position and facial expression one could think of. That included some more mature concepts, but it wasn’t like anyone was going to go digging through these pages. After all, what’s to worry when Giorno could spent all his time with his beloved Mateo? Even the cute reminders that Giorno needed to take care of himself: To eat, to drink water, to sleep properly. Were the sweet symphonies he got to listen to everyday. Even the cheeky visits to En La Musica café, getting a latte (and an extra baked good sneaked in sometimes) alongside a kiss goodbye was enough to continue each day. To be called Mateo’s ‘boyfriend’ and referring to him as his ‘boyfriend’ is what it’s like to be ‘alive’. To Mateo, Giorno was the ideal partner anyone wanted – sweet, caring, a gentleman, bringing him small gifts simply because ‘he thought about him’, calling him petnames that just sent electricity down his spine…Mateo couldn’t remember if there was ever someone who made him feel the way Giorno did as of lately, lovestruck. It was unbelievable still that they were together, sure Mateo had his feelings but he honestly believed that Giorno would settle for him when he’s…Basically the perfect man. To have that floral yet oceanic scent fill up his lungs when the blonde would hold him close and to taste the strawberry lip balm on him with each kiss, to even wake up everyday to get to see that smile and a voice that sent a spell to his heart to beat faster. It seemed too good to be true, especially when Mateo gets the privilege of having a key to Giorno’s apartment. Clean, warm earthy tones, a scented candle always lit and making the room smell like flowers, pieces of artwork hanging from the walls. It’s very Giorno.

Mateo wanted to surprise Giorno this evening, bringing home a few bags of groceries over to his apartment and setting them on the counter alongside some of his other stuff. He had been busy for a few days with a student-ran exhibition coming up, bandages on his fingers from hours of cutting and bending wire for his flower arrangements - Mateo could see blocks of floral foam and an assortment of petals still on the table. Giorno’s been so stressed out as of lately, something like cooking him a surprise dinner to help him relax can help ease his nerves at least a little bit. Putting away some of the ingredients in the refrigerator for now, since he should have enough time to cook in an hour, Mateo traveled over to the door of Giorno’s bathroom…Until he stopped in front of it, turning his head to another closed door nearby. Mateo was told that was Giorno’s art room, where he could paint and store away his bigger floral arrangements so they wouldn’t be all over the place. Anytime the Latino man inquired about it, he was politely brushed off and focused to another subject. It was locked most of the time he was over, with the excuse that Giorno was rather embarrassed by the condition the room was always in. Now that he wasn’t home…Mateo couldn’t help but reach out to the gilded doorknob, twisting it to find that it was unlocked. Now, it was considered rude to be snooping around other people’s things – especially when they usually didn’t want people in their things to begin with…But they were dating and it’s important to not hide anything from your partner…And the curiosity was just clawing at Mateo ever since he was first invited to his now boyfriend’s apartment. He pushed the door open to reveal a dark room, going to the wall and blindly searching for the light switch until he felt it in his fingertips and flipped it upwards. The bulb on the ceiling light ignited, engulfing the room with light for Mateo to see. It was rather messy – canvases stored in a neat yet large stack, paint splatters on mostly all surfaces that weren’t the walls, beautiful flower arrangements made with fake flowers tucked away in one corner, art tools scattered about, and there was an impressive stack of used sketchbooks on a desk. Mateo walked over towards the paint-splattered desk, looking over the pile and selecting ones off the top. His calloused fingers opening it and thumbing through the pages, drawings and sketches used with a variety of media…The ones of him made him a bit flustered, flattered that his talented boyfriend even drew him in the first place. As he continued to scan through pages of still lifes, landscapes, random people, different sketches of Mateo (did he really have to draw him asleep when his mouth was open and drooling?), until he stopped on one…It was mostly red and such aggressive strokes of a pen was used.

“What is this?...A flower?” Mateo squinted his burgundy eyes, turning the sketchbook on its side a couple of times to see if he could get a better understanding of what he was looking at. He could see parts of a person, like a leg and a hand…Was this person under a large flower? The closer he looked at it, he could spot long salmon-pink hair, like his friend Baroque’s. With a shrug, Mateo flipped through more of the pages…Only to get more images similar to what he was just looking at, although it started to get more clear what Mateo was looking at…Sketches of someone holding a knife to someone’s throat, someone getting hanged, a large hole in someone’s stomach as the bled out, limbs getting chopped off…It started to make Mateo feel a bit uncomfortable, especially when he could point out similarities of his friends in each picture. Such as long blue hair, strong facial features, the same color of eyes full of fear. It was purely coincidental, Giorno probably has been watching too many slasher films or was secretly EXTREMELY stressed out by this exhibition more than he led Mateo onto. Setting the sketchbook back into its original place, Mateo was about to leave until he noticed something that seemed…Out of place. A large dark wooden box, standing vertically and looking similar to the altar of a church with such fanciful carving.

“Huh…Didn’t take Giorno to be religious.” Mateo mindlessly reached out to the shrine box with both hands grasping onto the handles to open the doors. He expected to see Mother Mary or Jesus with some other religious pictures…Only to find his own face staring back at him. Unlit candles underneath the framed picture of himself, other items hanging on the backs of the doors or underneath the shelving of the shrine box. Drying roses, a small black velvet box, a fortune from a fortune cookie scribing about love being prominent in the future, the small stuffed cat Mateo won Giorno at a crane game, ticket stubs to a movie they went to after officially becoming a couple, and other simple romantic stuff…Then it started going left immediately: three separate locks of Mateo’s green, red, and black hair, a used toothbrush, ripped cloth from a shirt, used toothpicks, the bottle of cologne Mateo thought he lost, some of his hair ties…Why did Giorno have this? He was the perfect boyfriend, why was he…Keeping this like a deranged stalker? Anxiety pooling in the bottom of his stomach, his burgundy eyes looking down to see pictures of his friends he ran the café with. It looked like the pictures were significantly scratched at with a knife, different colored pens scratched onto the photos:

Stupid bitch

Die die die die

Keep your hands off of him

Hes mine

Stay away from him

Inferior beings

I’ll slit your throat

I’ll kill you

He’ll never figure out

Mateo’s mine

He suddenly felt sick. Immediately shutting the doors and running out of the room, clumsily shutting the lights off and shutting the door behind him…Mateo couldn’t stay, he just couldn’t after what he just saw. Why would Giorno do such a thing? He was usually so sweet to his friends, he knew how important they all were to Mateo…He smiled and laughed alongside them, why would he write these awful things about them? Why was Giorno treating him like this in private? He wasn’t someone’s object, he’s a person! It just didn’t make sense, it confused him and it made him hot from the rising stress in his blood. Fumbling to put his shoes back on and grabbing his personal things, he left the groceries where they were and ran out the door. Mateo didn’t feel safe here anymore…Maybe he had been a little too clingy? Maybe it’s just him! Maybe giving Giorno some space will help tone down whatever the fuck he just saw. God, it was nerve-wracking…Mateo’s first boyfriend and he turned out to be a nutjob, his fucking luck. He knew it was too good to be true…Slamming himself into his car, he figured the only thing he can do for right now is just avoid Giorno for a little bit. Just until he can gradually remove himself from him, crashing at someone’s house for a bit so Giorno wouldn’t come knocking at his door, changing his phone number, the likes of that. Hands shaking as he gripped onto the black steering wheel and shaky pants leaving his lips, Mateo turned his car on and immediately drove as fast as he could away from Giorno’s apartment, disturbed and needing help but didn’t have anyone but himself to turn to.

Mateo proceeded to avoid Giorno like the plague, anytime he tried to reach out to him and ask if he wanted to hang out, he was promptly shot down. Calls were left to die, Mateo switched with someone else’s schedule so he didn’t have to see his ‘boyfriend’ coming in at his usual time. As much as it hurt to give Giorno, his first ever boyfriend, that fake customer service voice and to pretend that he was a stranger. Not even looking at him in those emerald eyes full of hurt. This amount of space was good for the both of them. Mateo just needed room to breath after what he saw in Giorno’s art room, hoping that he’d toss that thing away by the time he felt comfortable enough to come back. He even started sleeping at someone else’s place because Mateo was just so uncomfortable sleeping alone, since Giorno knew where he lived. A foolish part of him wanted everything to go back to normal once Giorno got ‘normal’ again…But Mateo knew better, he was a grown man with common sense – someone who did such fucked up things behind closed doors wouldn’t get better immediately…Those perfect days with Giorno felt too good to be true, Mateo was foolish to think that Giorno was his soulmate at one point…This and the fact that Romance was still missing kept him awake at night, stress loading onto his shoulders each day.

With Mateo’s sleeves rolled up past his elbows, Mateo mindlessly wiped down latte cups and counters – obviously distracted and a bit jumpy if anyone were to sneak up on him.

Pull yourself together, he thought. He had a legitimate business he needed to run, Mateo didn’t have time to worry over personal matters while on the clock. As someone came up to the counter, Mateo greeted the person with a smile, a sharpie marker in hand ready to grab a cup and write down the order.

“Hi, welcome to En La Musica Café. What can I get you?”

“Medium black coffee, double espresso shot, hot.”

“Coming right up! Can I get a name for it?” Mateo asked happily, his sharpie scribbling on the order onto the paper cup. The man in front of him, just matter-of-factly stated. “Donatello.”

“Alright, that should be out real soon.”

“So, you’re my brother’s boytoy, huh?” Mateo froze for a second, looking up to focus his gaze on this man. He did share a striking resemblance to Giorno, the facial features were very obvious and the blonde hair was a giveaway (although he was sporting an odd hairstyle, connecting mutton chops and a buzz cut with a ponytail?). The only different they had was his bright blue eyes. Donatello smirked at the Latino who was taken aback. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“What does it matter to you, sir?” Mateo had a polite voice, although the daggers in it were telling Donatello to stop talking to him as he went to make the coffee. The man rolled his eyes in response, “I wasn’t sent here by him, don’t get your panties in a twist. I wouldn’t do anything for the shithead even if I was on my last leg.”

“Then why are you questioning about this?”

“To ask you if you have half a brain to cease all contact with him yet.”

“What Giorno and I are doing is none of your business-“

“You saw it, didn’t you? The shrine? The hateful messages to others around you?” Mateo paused for a moment as the espresso machine filled up the two glasses to pour into the cup, steaming and wafting the smell of the Colombian roast behind the counter. Burgundy eyes looking up back into Donatello’s ocean-blue ones, watching him scoff. “You did…And you’re still here? My brother’s a wackjob if you haven’t noticed, always has been. If you knew what was good for you, you would move away before it’s too late.”

“Here’s your coffee.” Mateo placed the full cup of hot coffee on the serving counter, allowing Donatello to rip open a packet of sweetener to dump into it and stirring it with a stick, closing it with a lid. “I can tell you anything you need to know about Giorno. The reason why he’s so fucked up and tell you that I know for a fact that he’ll never stop doing this if you let him.”

“…I have a break in five, I’ll talk to you outside.”

Mateo needed to know, needed to know why Giorno did what he did in private…And who was better to find out the answer from than his brother? Was it wrong to hear him out? Sitting outside in one of the patio tables, Mateo stepped outside and sat in front of Donatello who slowly sipped on his coffee. Introducing himself as ‘Donatello Versus’, Giorno’s younger half-brother by just a year. Making the odd claim that he didn’t give a damn about Mateo necessarily, he was just letting him know the warning that came with knowing the older blonde.

“Giorno’s always had…Issues. Ever since we were little too. His mom was a piece of shit and we barely exist to our dad, so it was only natural he’d cling onto anyone slightly parental or nice to him…No amount of therapy has worked for him, it only made him good at hiding his feelings until he can’t…There was this maid we had, she was some young thing who needed money and took on being our part-time caretaker. She was doting to Giorno since he came off as nice to her, he’d spend his free time with her whenever he could…Asking for help on his homework, playing, showing her a drawing…He was all over her. And then she put in her two weeks’ notice, she was six months pregnant and had to get home to her husband…What we’ve noticed over the years was Giorno can’t handle rejection well…When that sweet little maid told Giorno she couldn’t stay forever like he asked…He snapped.” Donatello took a sip of his coffee in between, seeing that Mateo was getting interested in the story. “Six months pregnant…Only to end up with tragedy. Giorno couldn’t handle the fact that she was going to be a mother to some other kid and not him…So he pushed her down the stairs, one of those grand staircases you’d see in like fancy rich people homes…Around 3 flights of stairs did that woman tumble…She miscarried. One of my other brothers saw it happen and told me and our other brother. She was grief-stricken, and she knew Giorno did it to her…When she screamed out that Giorno was the one who pushed her down the stairs, pointing her finger at him, all Giorno had to do was tilt his head and lie to the servants that restrained her that he didn’t. Not like she could take the family to court either, my old man practically rules over the judicial system. The golden shithead got away with murder and got a slap on the wrist from dad, that it could ruin the Brando reputation if he acted recklessly like that. Rykiel, the one that saw it, said that he could still remember what he heard before that maid was pushed down the stairs…’If I can’t have you, no one will’.”

Mateo blinked, his mouth slightly agape. He couldn’t believe what he just heard, like this was some messed up prank. Donatello laughed at the look on the dark-haired man’s face.

“Don’t believe me? Want me to tell you about his first and only girlfriend? Thought she was cheating on him and proceeded to have her dad framed for statutory rape, tearing her family apart. If you ask him, he’d probably say he doesn’t remember. Little psycho has most of his memories blocked out after a while and a new obsession forms, which would be you I guess. I’m serious, man. If you don’t pack your shit now and leave, you’ll end up regretting it.” Donatello stood up from his seat, taking another sip of his coffee as he trailed off to the side of the café. Mateo following suit, quickly as if he was desperate to hear more from this man. Just until they were out of view from the large open windows of the café, Donatello looked to the taller man. “Don’t bother trying to fix him, no one can…You’ve seen it. He’ll just be like this forever…Gotten anything else besides the stupid shrines he makes?”

Mateo hesitated for a second, quietly gulping before nodding.

“Y-Yeah…He…He’s been changing his phone number a lot and trying to contact me…He’s begging why I’m just ignoring him…And…And I haven’t slept at my place in a while, I feel like he’s watching.”

“Wow, you’d usually change your phone number after 2 different numbers contact you. That second one I’ll commend you on, he’d probably smash a window in to break in and do somethin’ to you. To anyone else you’d get a restraining order, but our old man has a grip on the courthouse so that’s not gonna happen. Just pack up and leave town or somethin’.” As Donatello took another swig at his coffee, another voice popped into the conversation that made him joke on the hot liquid.

“So…My own brother, huh?” Mateo’s eyes widen, peering over to see Giorno standing in front of the two. His facial expression was neutral, yet those emerald eyes had such a dangerous glint to them – it sent warning signs throughout Mateo’s body, telling him to run away from him. Donatello wiped this mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning himself up and trying to control his coughing. “Damn, fucking surprised me golden shithead.”

“I was beginning to wonder what I did wrong…How you cruelly ignored me the last time I came here, the calls and texts you don’t return…You haven’t been home in days either…Only to find out you were with my own brother.”

“Relax, I don’t want nothing that touched your mouth.” Donatello scoffed, seeing that he didn’t exist in Giorno’s view as of right now. It was only Mateo in his clouded vision, walking closer to him. That calm yet dangerous animosity exuding out of the blonde, making the dark-haired man dryly gulp at the scene. The other blonde man rolled his eyes, giving Mateo a pat on the shoulder and wishing him good luck (albeit sarcastically) before walking away from the scene to leave the two men to face off.

“Mateo.”

“I…I don’t wanna hear it.”

“There must be some mistake, please tell me so I can fix it right away. We should be able to communicate what’s bothering us-“

“Do you really want the truth? What’s really bothering me?” Mateo interrupted, his brows furrowing as he looked down at the slightly shorter man. He was slightly taken aback, but he nodded – expecting something small and manageable so that their relationship can get back to being the way it was meant to be: Happy and spent together. Mateo took a deep breath in and exhaled, gathering the courage to finally speak up. “It’s you. You’re the problem. You’re obsessive, you’re a stalker, you’re fucking weird…I found your weird shrine and I’m creeped out by you…And the shit you wrote about my friends…The weird ass art you made…Were you torturing them in your drawings?! You know how much I care about them and to see you have such a violent reaction to them…And now that I look back, you were a fucking creep. Why were you stealing my shit?! Why do you have locks of my hair?! Why can’t you get the hint that I don’t wanna see you?! You just keep changing your fucking number and spamming my phone…Hell, I’m scared to go back home because I knew you would be there! LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU!”

Mateo didn’t care if he was making a scene, he just needed to get through Giorno’s head that this relationship was over. Panting and with tears pricking in his eyes, heart thumping against his chest with aggression. Yes, it stung that he had to do this but it was the only thing he could do at the moment. Mateo was truly in love with Giorno, he swore that there was no one else that made him feel like what Giorno did to him…But this couldn’t go on, not when Giorno was a walking red flag and he could put his friends in danger – one of the few things he has left in this world. He’ll overcome this heart wrenching pain for them. It didn’t take long, in fact it was a blink’s worth of time, for Mateo to be forcibly dragged into the alley next to the café – hands wrapped around his olive throat and gripping as tightly as they could. Letting out a choked out wheeze, his nails trying to dig at the reaper’s hands trying to choke him out. His vision began to darken as all he could see was Giorno’s envy-colored eyes. It was horrifying to look at, that neutral expression snapped into what Mateo could describe as ‘snapped’. The man Mateo learned to love was no longer there behind those snake-like eyes, all he could see was the husk and the corrupted soul of this man…No…That corrupted soul had always been there, Giorno simply lifted his mask. As drool dripped out the corner of Mateo’s mouth as his hands grew weak, the darkness in his vision taking over quickly. Only to hear Giorno before he blacked out:

“I’d do anything for you…I did everything for you…I’ll make sure this temper tantrum is smothered, then we can go back to normal…I’ll make you understand your stance in this situation. That you’re mine and mine alone.”

It seemed like a daze when Mateo eventually woke up, head throbbing and his throat killing him as his vision slowly adjusted to the light. He tried to go in and rub at his eyes only to find his arms stuck in place. Mateo slowly looked down, squinting to see his hands tied to the arms of a chair. He tried to pull at the rope to no avail.

“Hm? You’re awake? Good, do you prefer the lace or the flower veil? I’m having a hard time making decisions for the bride-well…Groom I guess?”

“W-Wha…?” Mateo blinked his eyes a couple of times, trying to pull himself out of his daze and to focus on what he was looking at. A young woman with bubblegum-pink hair and green eyes wearing a pink dress, holding up two masses of tulle that made a white veil – as she described, one had lace sewn into it and the other had fake flowers sewn in as well. In a confused panic, Mateo looked up to the young woman and asked. “W-Where am I?”

“I…Can’t really tell you or Giorno will get mad at me.” She sheepishly laughed, lifting her arms out and comparing the two veils to Mateo’s head and nodded. “Yeah, I think the flower one is more of the theme. We’ll go with that one…I know you’re probably scared out of your mind but try not to make too much movement. This thing’s being held by pins alone. God, I hate that he asked me to do this last minute – this is really not my best work. But I do love designing wedding attire.”

As more clarity hit Mateo, he could recognize the woman as that fashion major who came to the café – large, iced macchiato with two pumps of vanilla and an espresso shot. He thinks her name was Trish? She came and got the same order almost every time, sometimes she’d get a London Fog on colder days. Mateo looked the room to see it was someone’s very spacious sunroom, a makeshift altar next to him that was covered in beautiful white and red flowers. Looking down, Mateo saw he wasn’t wearing his own clothes. It was an odd combination of a suit and a wedding dress, all white: a white lacey corset top covered by a white suit jacket, it was long enough for Mateo to be sitting on top of it and ran off like the train of a traditional wedding dress. It had a lace trim, some embroidered flower pattern on the inside of the train of the coat. White pants that flared out, although his feet wear bound to the legs of the chair he was trapped in, and what seemed to be white healed boots. Trish draped the veil behind Mateo’s head and pinned it to his hair, trying to struggle out of his restraints once more. He was rather strong physically, but it seems that whoever tied him up made sure he would be unable to get out of these restraints.

“W-Why am I here? I need to go back to the café.”

“Hey, hey. Relax, you’re stressing out pretty bad over there. And I told you that this piece is not sewn together properly, you might pop it open. I’m sorry I can’t give you any answers, hell I don’t even know what’s going on other than the upcoming ceremony.”

“Ceremony?”

“Right…Uh…” Trish scratched her head, unable to explain this situation to Mateo. “Look, it’s not like I particularly want to dress up a captive. But I don’t want to know what happens to the other groom if I disagree with him.”

As if it were on cue, the doors open to let a group of people into the sunroom. A few of them sat down in pre-assembled folding chairs, wearing formal attire you would wear to a wedding – nice suits and beautiful dresses that differed from the maid attraction of weddings. And then he saw him. Giorno dressed in a tailored black suit, a matching undershirt and an emerald-green tie that complimented his eyes wonderfully. A matching handkerchief sticking out of his breast pocket and a green ladybug brooch just underneath. His hair was left long and free from the braid Mateo usually saw him in, those empty green eyes staring directly at him and sending nothing but pure dread down his system. Mateo became more frantic, trying to yank his limbs out of the tightly-done ropes with little to no success – only giving him rope burn that stung his skin. His heart pounding against his chest, yelling at him that he needed to leave or something bad was going to happen whilst sweat formed in the palms of his hands. Trish failed to calm him down as she continued to fuss over his outfit until Giorno walked over, smiling so charmingly and yet it had no real heart in it.

“Oh, just those special day nerves, right Amor?”

“Let me fucking go!”

“My, that’s quite a choice of language and in front of our esteemed guests!” Giorno chuckled, referring to the small crowd of people that appeared alongside him. One of them walked over to the altar, seemingly acting as the priest to officiate this ‘wedding’. Looking over at Mateo and smiling. “Congratulations! You’ve made Giorno so happy these days, I knew the two of you would get together.”

“I DON’T WANNA BE WITH HIM! LET ME FUCKING GO YOU PSYCHO!” Mateo thrashed against his seat, but his aggressive pleads fall deaf on the ears. Especially the man who was dressed up as his ‘groom’ this evening, who simply bent over to his level and placed a hand on his broad shoulder. He smiled, those empty eyes had an odd yet dangerous glint to them. “Now, I figured that since I had company here, I didn’t want you to go without company. It would be unfair, your loved ones should experience this moment too! You’re going to be married! So I took the liberty of gathering your friends.”

Giorno pointed over to where the workers of the café were, currently tied up and duct tape covering their mouths as their muffled screams fell deaf onto everyone’s ears, struggling in their restraints just like Mateo had been doing so. Blues’s wails muffled and tears running down her eyes as she was dressed in a medium-length blue gown and her hair braided while Disco was in the middle of being restrained herself, wearing a pastel pink dress as she continued to sleep through whatever happened to her. Baroque in a dark-colored suit and his hair tied back as he thrashed in his chair, screaming against the two layers of duct tape put over his mouth. Even the newest employee, Espresso, was giving the men tying her down a hard time as she struggled against her restraints in a maroon dress. Their muffled screams and cries and the state they were in made Mateo’s eyes go wide, mouth agape as rage boiled in his blood. Turning to Giorno and only thrashed more.

“YOU SICK BASTARD! LET THEM GO, THEY HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN US! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU FOR HURTING THEM!”

“Now, now, relax. They’re not hurt as bad as you think; they were simply knocked out. Ah, don’t worry your shop was closed so you don’t have any customers to worry about. Now…We wouldn’t want your precious friends getting more hurt than they were, do we?”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! JUST LET THEM GO!”

“See, the more difficult you make it on yourself…The more bad things might happen.” One of the men restraining the group pulled out a gun, pressing it to Blues’ temple. It made her freeze up, trembling as more tears rolled down her face as she squeezed her eyes shut out of fear, dreading if the man would pull the trigger or not. It made Mateo’s heart drop to his stomach, turning his head to Giorno and his eyes widen. The expression asking if he was serious about this, that this was some cruel prank and he wasn’t serious about this. Giorno’s hand went up to Mateo’s face, brushing past the green, red, and black strands of hair of his bands to cup his face. That smile hadn’t left his face, like it was forever fixated there when Mateo was in his line of direction. “Behave for me and nothing will happen.”

“…You…You promise?”

“I’m a man of my word, Amor.” Mateo could hear the muffled screams of his friends, probably yelling at him to not accept Giorno’s word. But at this point, what sort of choice did he have? His shoulders dropping and letting out a deep breath, the anger had eventually been forcefully stewed out of him and all that was left was defeat. Mateo had given into Giorno, eventually getting set free from his restraints. Unbalanced from being in the chair for so long, Mateo wobbled in his steps and was held up by Giorno’s hands until he regained his balance. Trish fussed over his outfit once more, making sure he looked presentable enough to be standing at the altar. Eventually draping the veil over his face so it was almost like a traditional wedding. Giorno had made a joke, saying that this wasn’t the most traditional wedding but that as artists they tended to go beyond traditional; earning a laugh from the few people who attended. It was all a blur to Mateo; the man named Bruno acting as the priest that would officiate the wedding as words left his lips about the joys of coming together with marriage, but Mateo didn’t hear a single one. He was given a ring, slipped onto his finger by Giorno, that had such an odd purple gem for the centerpiece…It looked more like an eye watching him, mocking him that he had to go through with this without a choice. Like a zombie, Mateo pushed the wedding band onto Giorno’s ring finger and watched him speak about his ‘devotion’ to Mateo when it fell deaf onto his ears. It was a numbing torture, being prompted into saying ‘I do’ after Giorno. Bruno hearing no objections to the two men getting married, of course Mateo’s friends’ duct taped mouths being promptly ignored, and officially declaring that Mateo and Giorno were husbands. Mateo was pulled into Giorno’s kiss, even if it was the most sweetest kiss in the world the dark-haired man couldn’t tell if it was – he only kept his burgundy eyes open and mindlessly stared off, as if he truly wasn’t there mentally. The cheers from Giorno’s guests were deafening, mocking even as he was dragged by the arm to wherever else in this villa. The sunset-yellow walls and cheerful décor couldn’t make a single emotion out of Mateo, seeing his friends still bound and mouths still duct taped as they looked to him as if he was really serious about this. It seems that Giorno saw that they would try and run up and convince Mateo otherwise to run away, so he ordered to keep them bound to their chairs and just simply sat at a table ‘reserved’ for them. Mateo had always dreamt of having a wedding, to be married to the one he loved and to dance with them as he was surrounded by loved ones…But this isn’t what he wanted, even if for a moment in time he did want to marry Giorno, this isn’t how he wanted everything to turn out. Not to this corrupted soul of a man, flowers of evil blooming so brightly and covering his soul. It was like a punishment from god, being married to death himself without a choice. Forever cursed to rot in Giorno’s hands for however long he’ll live. Not even alcohol served could make him happy, watching those raising up their champagne glasses and cheering as Giorno lifted his glass and made a toast.

“Obsessio est passio quae agit in futurum!” Giorno smiled happily, like a child who obtained the toy they wanted on Christmas morning. His friends cheering afterwards, toasting to the school’s moto and clinking glasses together with everyone. Mateo could only stare at the pale gold liquid bubbling in his glass, not seeing Giorno take a portion of his own drink into his mouth before coming closer to newly wedded ‘husband’. Forcing him to look at him, those corrupted green eyes growing closer in his vision as his lips were forced onto his. The blonde was able to force Mateo’s chin down just a bit so that his mouth would open, pouring the champagne into his mouth and flooding his tastebuds. Some of his dribbled down the corners of his mouth as he was forced to swallow. The raven-haired man pushed Giorno away and coughed, wiping his mouth as he looked over to Giorno. This husk of a human being just smiled at him tenderly, as if it could replicate that emotion. If Mateo could study him closely, there might have been hearts forming in his eyes as he let out a little laugh – his pale hands holding Mateo’s together in his cold grasp. The wolf whistles and cheering from Giorno’s friends stung Mateo, pulling him back into this scary reality – not allowing him to return to his mindless state of comfort.

“Won’t you smile for me, Amor? We’ll be spending the rest of our lives together here, in this villa. This is a celebration.”

Oh, how Mateo wanted nothing to do with these weeds of obsession. Wanting to go back into time and stopping himself from greeting Giorno that one day he took over that professor’s class. Oh how Mateo had no choice but to force a smile on his face, when tears formed in his eyes – Giorno could think they were tears of happiness all he wanted, but they were tears of sorrow. Rather than a wedding, it was a funeral to Mateo…A funeral to the man he was and welcoming the corpse he would be for the future, holding a bouquet of corrupted flowers to his chest in his coffin.

#yandere art school au #not sfw #yandere #yandere giorno #giorno giovanna x oc #commission #ladybugblues #neratics #giorno x oc #gioteo #dark themes

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proceduralpassion · 2 years

Text

It Would Be So Simple | Chapter 04

Pairing: Horacio Carrillo x OC

Summary/synopsis: Horacio and Kiara have split after the disintegration of their marriage. Some time later, Horacio is alarmed when he receives word that Kiara may be missing.

Chapter warning(s): you're bout to be up to your knees in angst, language, subtle mention of pregnancy

WC: ~6.1K

Horacio didn’t show that night at the bar. While disappointed, Kiara didn’t find herself all that surprised. The man screamed disciplined and orderly. He probably went home to shower, color code and crisply fold his laundry before falling into bed exactly at 22:00. The thought amused her and instead of pouting, she laughed that night and enjoyed some unwinding time with her fellow classmates and nurses.

A week later, she found herself with a day off from both studying and working. She spent it taking a leisurely walk through the nearby park. It was a slice of quiet nestled into the busy city where she found herself entranced by the dazzling sun and fresh air. She spun around in her trance and lifted her arms, saluting to the daylight. In her daze, she wasn’t able to course correct from colliding with a solid hunk of flesh that nearly tossed her to the ground. The figure obviously wasn’t paying much attention themselves by the way their hands struggled to grasp her before falling. She just barely avoided the ground and the strong arms were there to pull her back up to normal height.

Immediately, upon recognizing his face, she laughed a full laugh, “Well, if it isn’t fate…”

Horacio, too, recognized her instantly and just barely masked his embarrassed and flustered state. He hadn’t meant to leave her hanging by not showing up to the bar. In fact, he was pretty enticed to take her up on the offer, enjoying the breath of fresh air she brought into his life for only a few minutes. The only barrier was that there were still some perpetrators who had escaped from the earlier raid that landed him at the clinic in the first place. The young man imagined that he’d be fighting against other countries as a soldier, but so far, most of his efforts had been geared towards home-grown guerilla organizations. His focus had kept him from enjoying a night of enjoyment and healing, even when he really needed it.

He had opened his mouth to apologize and give an explanation, but she beat him to it.

“Save it,” she said. This made him feel even worse, but that’s because he hadn’t taken notice of the light and not at all antagonistic tone with which she spoke. “My brother just started at Interpol and I don’t think I’ve physically seen him in like two weeks, so… I get it. Es la vida de policía.”

“Y militar.”

Though Horacio wondered how long he could see himself serving in the military if there were ways for him to focus specifically on the woes within his country…

“How’s your ribs?” She asked. Her eyes scanned over his frame, examining the way his bruises were forming.

Horacio shrugged his shoulders in response despite the fact that he woke up hissing in pain and clawing for the pain medications the doctor gave him.

Kiara merely hummed, not surprised or fazed by his tough guy persona. She moved to the side of the concrete path upon noticing a group of kids on their bikes coming their way. Horacio’s back was to them and she pulled his arm, softly guiding him out of the way too.

She was too busy smiling at the young passing children to notice the way he cleared his throat or how his eyes lingered on her hand that had just touched him. She also wasn’t intent on throwing herself out there by extending another invitation he wouldn’t accept. It was nothing personal; she truly hadn’t felt slighted. But it was up to him to voice his inclination over whether he wanted to socialize with her or not, as friends or otherwise.

Surprisingly, he was incredibly upfront with his next question, “Would I be too forward to ask for your number, señorita?”

She looked up with raised eyebrows in shock.

Maybe it was her facial expression or maybe he simply lost his nerve, but he cleaned up his request only a second later.

“Por si acaso. Tú entiendes,” He gestured towards his injured ribs.

He wasn’t quite sure he sounded as smooth as he wanted to and he hoped the annoyance at himself wasn’t apparent on his face.

“Sí,” she responded while pulling a scrap of paper and pen out of her purse. Horacio hadn’t realized that she was none the wiser to his inner turmoil. She was surprised at his request, sure, but she actually appreciated that he saw her as a reliable figure to seek medical advice from. In fact, she felt compelled to give him some more right now.

“Deberías practicar algunos ejercicios de respiración en tu tiempo libre. Lo último que quieres es neumonía.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded.

She smiled at him again and handed him the scrap of paper with her number on it, “Hopefully, you won’t need to use it. For your ribs anyway.”

**********

Peña tapped his foot with his hands on his hips as he glanced down once more at his watch. He blew out an impatient breath as he realized only a minute had passed. He fanned his yellow short sleeve button down shirt a few times, not allowing the sweat to adhere to his clothes. He wasn’t sure if he cursed in praise or annoyance as the man he’d been waiting for finally walked up.

“What’re you doing here?” Laz greeted.

Peña sent him a sickly smile that said “you’re on thin fucking ice” before gesturing farther away from the building that housed Colombia’s Interpol headquarters.

Laz looked at him expectantly.

“Well, you didn’t answer my calls!” Peña exclaimed impatiently.

“So you came all the way over here?”

“It’s a drive across town,” Peña shot back, “And it’s been three fucking days that I’ve been trying to call you.”

“What do you want?,” Laz asked sharply. He was busy with a full caseload of his own as an Interpol agent among other things and didn’t have time for pulling Javi’s teeth about whatever this was about.

“You called me out of nowhere asking about Kiara. As if the only person she keeps in contact isn’t you. And then when I call you and leave a voicemail telling you no one’s heard from her, you don’t call back. What the fuck is going on?!”

“Nothing.” Laz bit back.

“Bullshit.”

Laz looked down, “Look. I was just hoping that someone had heard from her.”

His voice had grown softer which only further confused Peña.

“What?”

“It wasn’t that I was curious if anyone had heard from her. It was that I was hoping someone had heard from her. Anyone.”

Peña stood there, quiet, trying to work his way through deciphering all of this. Carrillo hadn’t heard from her. And from the sounds of it, neither had her older brother. There wasn’t necessarily fear on Laz’s face, but he still didn’t know what to make of this all. Laz used Peña’s silence as his exit. He looked back up to his place of work and took a step back.

“Look, I gotta go. If you or the Murphys or Carrillo hear from her, let me know.”

“Laz, what is going on?”

The man turned away and started walking towards the entrance. Peña decided on another method. He shouted after him, “You need to talk to Carrillo!”

He didn’t turn back around but he stopped walking. Peña jogged up to him.

“You might not want to tell me what’s going on, but Carrillo needs to know. If something’s going on, then he deserves to know.”

At this, Laz scoffs, “You really think he’d care?”

“That’s not fair, Laz.”

Laz turned back around fiercely, “No! What’s not fucking fair is no one having my sister’s back! You! Him! Everyone at that damn hospital has been acting like this is all her fault!”

“She’s the one that left, Laz. What did you expect?,” the DEA agent threw back.

Laz scoffed again, “Do you even know why she left?”

Javi scrunched his face up in confusion. The answer was obvious. “Well yeah, she got that job offer in the D.R. and she took it.”

“No, I mean why she left,” Laz took Peña’s silence as enough to continue explaining, “She turned down the job at first. She wasn’t gonna take it.”

Confusion wrinkled further into Peña’s features.

“Exactly. Did you know the last conversation Kiara and Connie had was an argument? Connie basically told her to fuck off and that maybe they shouldn’t work together anymore, whatever the fuck that means.”

Javier’s eyes widened in surprise which told Laz that he, indeed, was in the dark about some of Kiara’s last conversations before she fled.

“Or what about her last conversation with Carillo? Hell, I still don’t know all the details about that, but I know it was brutal enough for her to march her ass back to that recruiter and take that job in the D.R. And then she calls me crying her eyes out saying he doesn’t love her anymore and that she needed to get out of Medellin.”

Laz drew several angry, heavy breaths. He took a second to calm himself because he knew by Peña’s face alone that he was unaware of all of this. He was getting worked up at this man who knew none of this before today.

“That day, when she called me, I hadn’t heard her so heartbroken in a long time… Probably since dad died,” Laz expressed while referencing the death of their stepfather. “So you can understand why I’m a little defensive when it comes to her. She didn’t just flee the country for no reason. I’m not necessarily happy about it, I’m angry with her too, but she had reasons, Peña.”

And with that, he turned back around and went to head inside his workplace building. Peña stood there for a moment processing the new information he had just received and worked to fit them into the fast-changing puzzle that was rumbling around in his head. Just before Laz walked into the building, Peña realized he had one more thing to suggest.

“Laz!,” he shouted out and walked towards the steps. Laz waited by the door and looked at the DEA agent waiting to hear what he came over to say. “I still think you should talk to Carrillo. Whatever happened between them, whatever fights they had, none of that matters. You know he’d drop everything for her if something were wrong. He needs to know, Laz.”

Peña stood there, waiting to see if Laz would fight back or provide a petty, useless reason why he wouldn’t talk to his former brother-in-law. Neither never came so he took that as his in to continue.

“You haven’t seen him, Laz. He hides it well, but he’s a fucking shell. He just shuts down at the mention of her name. It wouldn’t hurt so much if he didn’t love her and I think you know that.”

Peña waited and watched. Laz was obviously thinking and if Peña could see inside his head, he’d see synapses firing as several thoughts rattled around his brain.

“Just think about it. If something’s up, he deserves to know.”

Back in the driver’s seat of his ride, Pena allowed all of the words from the conversation to rush back, everything he learned in the last fifteen minutes. He didn’t realize that he never had the full story of what transpired that led to Kiara leaving. Hell, he still didn’t. But he should’ve known there was more to the story. If there was one thing he knew about that woman is that she’s a fighter. With a headstrong tenacity that was neck and neck with Carrillo’s. In his head, he couldn’t see her just up and leaving without fighting for their marriage.

And apparently, that fight had happened. Only he hadn’t known the brutal depths of it. And now that he knew things were not as they seem, things were starting to fall into place within his mind. There was obviously an event, or maybe a few events, that led Kiara to believe she no longer had a home here.

In those last few weeks before she left, Carrillo was absolutely more on edge, much akin to the way a bomb fuse grew shorter and shorter. But they were in the thick of hunting down Escobar and everybody had a mounting heap of stress on their plates. Of course, he imagined there had probably been some strain on their marriage due to the fact that the Search Bloc head was barely at home, too stuck and focused on narrowing leads. And then, he heard from Steve, who obviously found out from his wife, Connie, that Kiara was taking temporary leave from her job for a travel assignment in the Dominican Republic.

Peña didn’t think much about it during that time. Only that it served to pull Carrillo down into a much pissier mood. He maybe only saw Kiara once more before she left and that was in passing when he helped rush Trujillo in for medical assistance after he’d taken a bullet in the shoulder.

Which was pretty shitty considering he’d think of Kiara as a friend. Sure, he only met her because of who she was married to, but they had developed a unique bond. Kiara seemed to be one of few who appreciated his crass sense of humor after all. Now, he was starting to think that maybe if he’d been a better friend, maybe if he’d checked in on her and lent an ear to vent to, maybe that could have been the tipping of the scale that convinced her to stay.

When he drove back across town and sat down at his desk, he picked up his phone after searching for the phone number of the clinical site where she was supposed to be stationed. There was only an hour time difference between Medellin and Santo Domingo, so ideally, there’d be someone working there during the afternoon hour. It was a call six months too late, but it was better than never, right?

The line rang only one time before a female voice, not Kiara's, picked up and answered, “Hola. Esto es el Centro Medico del Caribe en Santo Domingo. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarte?”

“Hola, señora. ¿Hay una Kiara trabajando allí hoy?” He held his breath, waiting and hoping to hear his friend’s voice in the background as she came to the phone.

Alas, he was met with another response.

“Ahhh, Kiara! La puesto en otra clínica en Puerto Plata que necesitaba mucha ayuda. Hace más o menos un mes.”

He sighed. OK, not the answer I was looking for, but maybe this explained things. It was all too possible that Laz didn’t know that Kiara had been placed in another city for her hurricane relief work. If the area was worse than in Santo Domingo, it was possible she didn’t even have access to phones or electricity. Still, he dug around a little more to see if he could get the number of the new area she was working out.

“Ah, vale. ¿Hay un número de dónde está trabajando ahora? ¿O por casualidad tienes su nuevo número de casa?”

The woman gave a non-committal “un momento” as she assumedly went to check the clinic’s records.

A few minutes later, she spoke, “Sin número personal. Pero aquí está el número de la clínica en la que estuvo asignada.”

“Perfecto. Muchas gracias, querida,” He exclaimed in relief as he wrote down the digits that the woman supplied.

*************

Bringing his vehicle to a halt, Horacio shifted it into park and removed his foot off of the brake. He blew out a rough sigh and brought his hands to his face. He just needed a second to himself before going inside. He spent an hour at his grandfather’s house, checking in to make sure the stubborn old man was alive and not in need of anything. The ninety six year old clung to every dulcet of independence, which is why he fussed over Horacio making sure his medications weren’t expired or in need of a refill or resituating a couple of cords that the senior citizen could have easily tripped over.

It wasn’t the fussing that was draining. It was having to answer questions about Kiara. The old man didn’t care for many people, but he had a soft spot for his grandson’s ex-wife. The only problem was that he didn’t know she was his ex-wife.

He could never bring himself to tell his abuelito the truth. Not only because he’d probably be forced to go through the entire story and be called an idiot in the process, but also because laying out the whole story out loud just might kill him. Absolutely no one knew the whole story. No one knew how they went from a loving couple trying for a baby to two strangers living under the same roof, but keeping secrets and constantly fighting. The dangerous lengths she put her body through to carry a child. The unforgiving hostility he spewed in his confused anguish. Resentment. Bitterness. Selfishness. Cruelty. Martyrdom. Dishonesty. That was what was bred by them and between them with each passing day before that breaking point snapped like a twig. No one knew about any of that, and as far as he was concerned, there was absolutely no reasonable way why he’d justify putting himself through the torment of recalling every harrowing detail of how their life together fell apart.

There was a sudden tapping on the side of the vehicle and Horacio snapped his eyes open to the woman smiling while standing on the sidewalk.

Sandra Rodriguez.

The meek yet dogged reporter who’d been covering the takedown and aftermath of Escobar for the past several months. It was her tenacious work ethic that landed herself a guest spot at Horacio’s residence. A death threat had landed on her lap after her most recent coverage of one of Escobar’s lieutenants being taken down in a raid last week. It wasn’t her first, and if she kept up her career, it wouldn’t be her last. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry and Carrillo’s place was on the short list of one of the most protected properties in the city, a haven she could rest her head at until things blew over.

“How are you?” He asked as he met up to her and began leading them inside.

“I’m good. And you?” She placed an amicable kiss on his cheek, which Horacio didn’t acknowledge. Not that he had time to even acknowledge it since it was over before it began.

Sometimes, he thought the lines blurred between them. She’d do something like touch his arm when passing by or calling him by his first name, but blink as if it were nothing. It was innocent enough to not be regarded as inappropriate but personal enough that it gave him pause.

“Busy. Along with another potential raid on our hands, I’ve been running surveillance in collaboration with a team over in Cali about some activity going on there.”

“Hm. Yeah, I heard a little about that. Some whispers about the narcos who managed to escape here are setting up shop in Cali?” He nodded in response as his eyes followed her into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m making sancocho for dinner tonight. The least I can do since you’re letting me crash.”

As if she had eyes in the back of her head and saw the discomfort Horacio attempted to wipe from his face, she said, “And it’s just food, Horacio. Nothing more, nothing less.” She was warming up the stove as Horacio released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. At least, they were on the same page, he thought. He said nothing else, not wanting to go near that conversation topic.

As he silently watched her saute vegetables, his thoughts drifted to how that conversation might go when it inevitably came up. They’d been spending more time together. Mainly with work, but it had allowed them to also get to know one another in a more personal regard, too. Not necessarily with their backgrounds, but the more mundane slice of life elements. The fact that she was more of a night owl than an early bird. Or the fact that Horacio’s penmanship was so horrible that it sometimes confused himself.

She was nice company. Good at her job. However, he couldn’t help but think, despite what she says, that she was looking for something from him. Expecting something. It makes him feel like he’s stringing her along despite the fact that nothing has actually happened between them. And then his mind veers off to the prospect of what would happen if something transpired between them. He tries to picture how he might pursue an actual relationship with her and he can’t. Because she’s not Kiara.

Which was another thing altogether.

Since Connie had dropped off her things and his last conversation with Peña, his mind hadn’t been able to focus on much besides Kiara. Which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence over the last several months, but still. In a matter of days, she was creeping back into his head with any free moment he had, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

He knew he missed her, he always did. Her soft smiles. Her sultry eyes. Her caring hands. Her unwavering stubbornness. He missed it all.

His eyes veered off into the living room and his mind followed. He sighed at their last moments together. Their last words echoed in his head. The tender yet exasperated kiss that was forever etched into his mind. Because he now knew what he didn’t know then. That it would be their last kiss.

He’d never let these thoughts breathe air but he wanted so badly to have gone after her. To have abandoned the search for Escobar and all of the hard work he put into bleeding his country dry of its miscreants. It filled him with shame that such thoughts colored his brain, that he’d even considered abandoning his duties. But it filled him with just as much contempt that he essentially ignored her pleading for them to start fresh. Garden-fresh, away from the place in which so many grim memories had accumulated for them.

He couldn’t say he didn’t make a good decision from the point of view of being a leader. A commander. It’s him staying that ultimately led to Escobar being captured. But it had also been him staying that slipped the opportunity of them reuniting from his fingers. Maybe he would’ve been happy. He wasn’t a man that needed much. But then, maybe he would’ve been filled with resentment with her for taking him away from his years-long mission. It was a double-edged sword and he couldn’t place more blame on her than he would on himself. After all, if he was expecting her love for him to keep her in Medellin, was she so wrong to expect his love for her to be enough to move him to the D.R.? How could he expect her to do something for him if he hadn’t been willing to do the same?

Except that he was willing.

Oh, so willing.

For every mental step he wanted to take to follow her out that door, he hurt even more. Because his mind wouldn’t allow him to take the steps his heart wanted to walk. It would be so simple. All he would have to do is keep walking. Open the car door and get in. Hell, he wouldn’t have even needed to pack; he could get clothes when he landed. He could even go right now at this very moment. He could stand up from his chair and simply walk out that door. He knew she’d be there, ready with open arms, to welcome him into the start of their lives together. And he could even do it with significantly less guilt or shame now that the worst was over with the war on drugs. It sounded so perfect in his head. But every time he instructed his feet to take the first step, doubt rushed in like a dam breaking.

Horacio had always prided himself on knowing how to read her. He was no psychic, but he could almost always figure out what she needed without her having to vocalize it herself. To maybe no one else but him, she was an open book. It was only in their last few months that he felt like maybe his skills were waning. The months leading up to her departure, she was more like a locked diary than open pages. One look at her and he could no longer gauge what was behind those eyes. Kiara had become more closed off and he wondered if she could even feel herself doing it. Would her walls be ten feet tall after the way their last phone conversation went? And even if he was able to tear them back down, who’s to say they would stay down? They had been having problems before the doctor’s appointment, which was probably the official beginning of the end. So even if the haze of them being together again lasted for eons, wouldn’t they eventually be right back where they started? A different country, but the same people? Her, who was unwilling to communicate and him, who was unwilling to express remorse?

So he stayed, because maybe no matter how much they loved each other, they weren’t meant to be together. He was convinced too much time had passed and too little of themselves had changed. He definitely hadn’t changed much. He knew because with all the love he had for her, with the huge part of him that missed her, he was also still angry at her. Because why hadn’t she come back? Why wasn’t he enough? At some point he stopped being enough for her, which had him convinced that she hadn’t changed much either. Because at some point, her trip went from having an end date attached, to her coming back for the rest of her things.

They had smoothed things over enough to stupidly convince themselves that a long-term, long-distance marriage could work. Or that even an amicable divorce would be possible. But then their phone calls went from a few combative retorts here and there to full out arguments. And that was when they even had time for calls. Conversations became infrequent and they seldom ended on a good note. Admittedly, that was mostly due to him igniting the arguments. He didn’t know how to handle her phone calls once they officially split. It was supposed to help. Knowing that she was still making the effort to check up on him even though they were no longer together. But it turned into something sour that ended with him spewing more callous words at her. Words he’d never be able to take back.

Horacio sat back on the sofa as he waited for her to answer. He couldn’t remember the first time that he called first. But he was done. He wanted it to be over with. And he needed her to know that he was moving on.

“Hello?” Her silky voice filled his ears and he immediately let out a sigh, appreciating how hearing it immediately lifted a mass of stress off of his body. He shook it off after a second, focusing on the purpose of this call.

“Kiara.” He greeted, no ounce of emotion in his voice.

“Is everything okay?” Hesitance filled her tone as she spoke. She wasn’t sure what to expect, what with their last few conversations ending with an exchange of fiery words. And also the fact that there was no warmth to be found in his voice.

“Yes. Did you get the papers?”

A beat passed and he heard her sigh.

“Yeah, this morning.”

“Did you sign them yet?”

More silence before she spoke. It frustrated him with every millisecond of quiet.

“Horacio… Here’s the thing…” Her words were slow as if she were using the time to gather more of them up in her head. “I think we might be rushing this. I mean, me and my team, we’ve already made a lot of progress here after the hurricane. So, maybe the D.R. won’t be a permanent thing for me… And you know, it’s only been three months. Feels like it’s been longer, but it really hasn’t. Would you mind if we… put things on hold?” Nerves occupied her words, which only irritated him more. “I mean, at least until I can figure out if I’m coming back or not. I mean, we really shouldn’t be doing this while we’re in two different countries. It’s a big deal, Horacio. It’s something that should be done righ-”

He wasn’t able to let her continue without lashing out, “You think I don’t realize that it’s a ‘big deal’, Kiara? You think I called up a fucking lawyer to draft up papers for fun and games? And now you want me to wait, as if I sit around all day and do nothing, you want me to wait for you to take your precious time deciding the fate of our marriage?”

“Horacio, I-”

“No. YOU chose this. Don’t you forget that. You chose to leave. And you chose to end this marriage. When things got tough, you ran away from your problems. That was YOUR decision. I’m not inconveniencing myself for you just because you might be having second thoughts.”

“I-I’m just asking-” he heard the crack in her voice and ignored it, staying silent until she found her words again. “I’m just asking for a couple of weeks. Some time to think. Some time so that I can really kno-”

“And are you coming back to Medellin after those couple of weeks?” He asked, but the question wasn’t hopeful. It was biting, baiting. Hostile, even.

“Horacio,” she pleaded.

“That’s what I thought. Dragging this isn’t going to make you feel less guilty. It isn’t going to absolve you, Kiara. You left thinking only of yourself. You don’t get to turn back around and switch gears just because you want to. And you’d only be delaying the inevitable. You’d be so selfish to deny me the one thing that I ask for?? I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re only thinking of yourself.”

He was met with more silence, save for his own heavy breathing from his loud words.

“I’m tired of it, Kiara.” A beat. “I’m tired. If there’s any part of you that even cares or wants my input, you’d just sign the papers.” Though his voice was now softer, his words were still firm and resolute.

He heard what sounded like the phone moving away from her face. And then the shuffle of papers in the background.

After another bout of silence, her broken voice spoke.

“It’s signed. I’ll send the papers in the morning.”

Letting out another sigh, it felt different from the one when he first heard her voice.

“Thank you,” he said. There was quiet in response which he filled with his last request. “It’s better if this is the last time we spoke.” The statement was detached and clinical. No argument came from the other line. “It’s better this way. We need to move on. Without each other. It’s for the best, don’t you think?”

“Mmm hmm.” Her reply was barely audible, but it was the confirmation he’d been looking for. The acknowledgement he needed to hear.

“Okay then,” he said. “Well, goodbye, Kiara.”

There was no goodbye returned. Only the line going dead ,as Kiara was too centered on choking back her tortuous sobs to utter a legible word.

He returned the phone back to its base and waited. Waited for the rest of his stress to lift. Waited for relief to fill his lungs like air.

It never came.

“Horacio!” His eyes snapped back into focus and surmised that his name had probably been called a few times before Sandra had gotten his attention.

He cleared his throat and looked at her as he transitioned back into the present.

Her eyebrows furrowed in worry, “You okay?”

“Yes,” he nodded with a miniscule smile.

“You sure? You seemed out of it just now. And back outside when you were in the car too…”

He opened his mouth again to assure her that he was fine, but was cut off from the knock of the door. His senses were immediately on alert, seeing as he wasn’t the type to get a lot of visitors.

“Stay in here,” he muttered, as he walked towards the door with his hand on his weapon.

Once he went through the proper measures of carefully checking for any signs of jeopardy, he swung the door open to become face to face with one of the last people he’d expected.

His ex-brother in law.

“Laz, what are you doing here?” He wasn’t quite able to hide his startled expression. There’d been as much tension with him since his and Kiara’s marriage were on the rocks. They, too, had a blazing row the last time they spoke to one another, which of course, contributed to the shock of Laz showing up on his front door.

“I need to talk to you about something. I don’t have long, I’m still on the clock, but this is important. You got a minut-” Laz’s voice had trailed off just as Horacio heard movement behind him. He saw the flurry of emotions hit Laz’s face before nothing but disdain was targeted towards him.

Horacio lifted his hand to clear up who Sandra was, but Laz wasn’t trying to hear any of it.

“You know what, nevermind. Don’t let me keep you.” Sarcasm and venom dripped off his words and were left on the door as the man stormed off back onto the walkway that led him to the street where he was parked. Horacio would’ve left things as is, but he knew Laz wouldn’t have come here if he didn’t have a reason.

“Laz, what is it?” he called out while venturing a couple of steps outside. Laz was still hotly charging towards his car

“I said, fucking forget it. You wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.”

****************

Horacio sat quietly in his dark living room as his thoughts ran rampant from the events of today. Sandra thought better of igniting any kind of conversation after Laz left. In fact, after their silent dinner, she went back to the office she worked out of under the guise of listening to the police radio scanner of any rumblings going around in the city. She hadn’t recognized who the man was at Horacio’s door earlier, but she was able to easily surmise that it had been her presence that set him off.

Horacio had done nothing to dissuade her from leaving, only advising her to be careful. He wanted the peace and quiet. Because he was still trying to work out why Laz would have shown up in the first place. It had to have been important given the scorn they openly displayed to one another whenever they found themselves in close proximity to one another.

And if it were anything work-related, he would’ve shown up at Carlos Holguin school instead of at his personal home. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a ton of overlap with their organizations, but whenever there was, they simply communicated at the base.

He thought about calling him, but if there was one thing that the Nash siblings shared, it was their stubbornness. Horacio probably wouldn’t get far if the Interpol agent was still pissed off.

The telephone rang and the Search Bloc leader took his sweet time answering, not in the mood for conversation. Answering on what had to be on the last ring, he greeted the speaker only to be met with silence.

Great, he sighed to himself. The unidentified voice who obviously had no interest in doing anything but listening to his breathing on the line.

“Hello?” He said again with no effort in hiding his annoyance.

And still, the caller said nothing. He clenched in frustration, not intent on entertaining the mystery speaker today of all days.

“Listen, I don’t know why you keep calling me. If you’re one of Escobar’s little worshippers, it’s gonna take more than some cold calls to rile me after blowing the man’s head off.”

There was a sharp intake of breath at this, but still no words.

He bid the stranger adieu with his final words, “Fuck off.” However, he heard an unmistakable voice before he could hang the phone up. It was his name. A voice calling his name. And hearing that voice after these past couple of months, he was paralyzed in his seat.

“Kiara…”

“I just needed to hear your voice…”

A/N: I feel the need to specify that this fic will NOT be a love triangle. Eager to hear what you all think about this chapter though. I’m sorry for the pain lol.

Taglist: @drabbles-mc @supersanelyromantic @mysun-n-stars @ashlingnarcos

Translations below:

Es la vida de policía- It's the life of police.

Y militar- And the military.

Por si acaso. Tú entiendes- Just in case.. You understand.

Deberías practicar algunos ejercicios de respiración en tu tiempo libre. Lo último que quieres es neumonía- You should practice some breathing exercises in your spare time. The last thing you want is pneumonia.

Esto es el Centro Medico del Caribe en Santo Domingo. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarte?- This is el Centro Medico del Caribe in Santo Domino. How can I help you?

¿Hay una Kiara trabajando allí hoy?- Is there a Kiara working there today?

Ahhh, Kiara! La puesto en otra clínica en Puerto Plata que necesitaba mucha ayuda. Hace más o menos un mes- She was put in another clinic in Puerto Plata that needed a lot of help. About a month ago

Ah, vale. ¿Hay un número de dónde está trabajando ahora? ¿O por casualidad tienes su nuevo número de casa?- Ah, okay. Is there a number for where she’s working now? Or do you happen to have her new home number?

“Sin número personal. Pero aquí está el número de la clínica en la que estuvo asignada.” -No personal number. But here's the number of the clinic she was assigned to.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #c: kiara nash #iwbss

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skvaderarts · 11 months

Text

Petrichor Chapter 46: Destination

Chapter 46: Destination

Note: Hey, everyone! I hope you are doing well and that you enjoy this chapter! Sorry, I'm a little late. I started baking cinnamon rolls today and just lost track of time. The cinnamon rolls were great, though!

(-~-)

The museum was impressive, filled with bright overhead light from the skylights that made up the center of each enfilade compartment. Tall, pointed gothic-style arches separated the space but kept it open and airy, the lighting bright enough to enjoy the artwork but dim enough to not blind anyone who was trying to enjoy the pieces on display. All and all, a splendid showcase of the talents of local artists, their diverse styles and color choices popping beautifully against the light gray walls and black carpet floors. This place was a goldmine of regional charm and ambition, and it was adored for that.

There were finishing up at the museum, viewing the last few pieces on display before heading to another location in town. It was around 10 am now, the city taking on a different air under different lighting. There was a cool mist in the air, a byproduct of the large lake that dwarfed the city. Their shared decision to wear coats had been a wise one, not that either of them would have frozen to death without them.

Making his way back over towards the door where Sirrus sat idly flipping through a pamphlet, the young summoner waived a single time in his direction, nodding in thanks as the man with the mostly white hair regarded him wordlessly but in a friendly manner nonetheless. They’d come here by his recommendation, and the establishment had not disappointed. It was smaller than many places he’d had the privilege of entering over the years, but the quality was spectacular. He had not been let down by any measure.

“You were correct, this establishment has been very enjoyable,” V said as his companion stood up, setting his reading materials aside. He’d finished browsing the available selection about ten minutes prior and had opted to save his energy by taking a short break. An advisable idea considering everything they’d been through recently. Ad they still had a lot of walking ahead of them today. “Thank you for recommending it.”

“The pleasure is mine. I’ve been looking for an excuse to come back here for a while now, but coming alone isn’t as enjoyable as bringing along someone else for company.” Sirrus said as they turned towards the door, the docent opening it for them as they approached and crossed its threshold. They nodded in quiet approval, thanking the individual in question for their politeness. It was a slow day so they probably had some free time on their hands at the moment, but regardless, they had still done them a favor and they were appreciative of that.

Heading down the road and away from the building past a bazaar that they’d checked out for a little while on the way there, they passed through a local public garden. It mostly consisted of bushes now, with only a few seasonal flowers able to blossom in the sparse seasonal light, but some of those bushes came in stunning shades of yellow, purple, and red. The gravel path that led through the area crunched under their feet as they followed the path through to the next block.

“A while back they started adding these little green spaces to the city. They said they wanted to further reclaim nature. I enjoy them. And the momentary quiet they bring.” Sirrus said as they continued forward, a look of calm reflection on his face. The air smelled nice here, like a forest after rain. A happy side effect of the misty morning air.

“Urban areas can always do with more plant life. Too many of them have lost that in pursuit of more office space and luxury apartment space that the majority of the populace cannot afford.” V said with a very slight shake of his head as he scoffed quietly. The sheer number of cities that he’d been to that were just grey monoliths, completely devoid of nature broke something in him. And what little landscaping there was almost always resided in high-end shopping areas that no one but a select few visited outside of window shopping. It was one of the reasons he liked places like this city and the area his family resided in. Even places like Fortuna. Why he could not live in most urban areas he’d visited. He would miss the established trees and flower bushes. The sound of birds in the morning and the sight of squirrels dashing up trees. The sleepy little rivers that brought with them the soft sound of trickling water. He needed something to look at besides the next building over. Something to hear besides traffic. Something to breathe in besides smog from the industrial sector. He didn’t want to live in a suburb or a city. A place like this was the perfect middle ground, at least for him. Easy to traverse and with plenty of reason to want to. He didn’t hate urbanization by any means, but it just wasn’t for him. It just wasn’t his style.

Sirrus nodded, agreeing with his friend’s sentiment. He enjoyed the little pockets of greenery that had been reintroduced in the town. The area was already very lush, probably thanks in part to its historic roots. You couldn’t plant trees this old in a modern city. Sadly, it just didn’t work the majority of the time. They couldn’t grow this tall anymore. There just wasn’t any room. Nature had to come first, and then the buildings.

Enjoying the silence for a handful of minutes as they approached the open wrought iron gate that led back to the road, the two remained quiet, savoring the cool air and their shared togetherness. At least until V suddenly remembered something he’d seen earlier that day that he’d meant to bring up and subsequently completely forgotten about until just then. He didn’t want to break the silence that they’d both been enjoying, but he also didn’t want to waste their remaining daylight hours. “I saw a trolly pass by just as we went into the museum. Where does that go?”

“The blue one with the green and white diagonal stripes?” Sirrus asked, vaguely recalling the routes that passed through the area. He took them from time to time, but considering that he was capable of moving faster than the average person, and even some vehicles given the proper circumstances, he didn’t often need to.

V nodded after a moment of consideration. That was indeed the one he’d seen before. He’d only really noticed it because of the stripes, if he was being honest. Things with patterns simply stood out more to him than solid colors, unless those colors were very bright.

“Yes, that would be the one I had in mind.” He said with a nod as he ducked under a slightly low pine tree branch, his hair getting dusted with morning dew in the process. They had just about reached the exit now, so they would be able to see their surroundings better momentarily.

The man with the mostly red hair seemed to think for a moment as he passed under the gateway, trying to recall the line that Trolly belonged to. And then he remembered and a self-satisfied little smile sunk onto his face. Oh yes, how had he forgotten? If he knew anything about his friend, and he liked to think that he did, then this was going to be fun.

“Oh, nowhere special. Just down to goes down to the marina. To the aquarium.”

V stopped dead in his tracks, the combination of the sound of one of his feet hitting the pavement while the other crunched on the gravel behind them being enough in of itself to cause Sirrus to notice that V had stopped at the transition point between the garden’s wrought iron archway gate and the pavement. That, and the distinct metal ping of his cane hitting the concrete. He’s switched to using it slightly more as they’d passed through the uneven surface of the garden path. He didn’t even need to turn around to know that his words had the exact effect that he was hoping they would. He could practically feel V staring at his back right now, his mouth figuratively agape and his eyes twinkling with childlike excitement. And he loved that. And the second he turned around, he was pleased to find out that he was correct. He was unquestionably correct. And V was making no effort to hide it.

“Did you just say… There is an aquarium in this city?” The barely contained excitement that he radiated at the very thought of that was evident, even if his face didn’t fully betray it. There was just something in his eyes and his tone of voice, a little sparkle that hadn’t been there moments ago. He was oozing anticipation like he’d just been submerged in radium. He knew that he’d heard Sirrus correctly, but he still wanted to be correct.

Giving off a small chuckle, Sirrus reached up and gently patted V’s shoulder, his fined following his hand to his shoulder but his facial expression not changing to any noticeable degree. He wasn’t uncomfortable with the gesture in the slightest, and that only served to make Sirrus almost as quietly excited as V was.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did say that.” He leaned in, making direct eye contact with his friend as he allowed his sneaky little smirk to remain on full display. Both the tone of his voice and the volume he spoke in lowered slightly as he tried not to laugh at himself for how ridiculous he was being. “Did you, by any chance… perhaps wish to venture to the aquarium in question. They should be open by now.”

Much to Sirrus’s surprise, he was the first of the two of them to crack, but only a millisecond before V did, the both of them laughing at one another’s respective reactions before V became visibly embarrassed by the sound of his own laughter, something that only made him laugh harder, his entire face turning bright red. He placed his face in both of his hands as his eyes began to water, nearly dropping his cane as he tucked it under his arm for the time being. Sirrus struggled to catch his own breath from a potent combination of all the air evacuating his lungs as he laughed at V’s reaction to his own embarrassment as well as at himself for being so embarrassing in the first place. They were trapped in a cycle of laughing at one another’s collective shame, and neither of them could complain. Mostly because they couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like a lifetime to his thoroughly overworked larynx and lungs, V finally managed to stop laughing just enough to speak as he wiped the last of the tears from his eyes. He put a hand upon Sirrus’s shoulder, half to try and shake him out of his stupified stupor and half to keep his own balance as his abdomen cramped slightly from laughing too much. It had been a good while since he’d done that. It felt good, even if they probably looked like a set of prize fools to anyone who might be passing by, standing here on the corner laughing at virtually nothing. But for once he didn’t care about that, even if he knew that was the case. They were just two friends having a good laugh, and they'd more than earned that. “I earnestly believe that if we do not stop laughing we shall both simply perish here and now upon this street corner.”

“Honestly, I think your right,” Sirrus said as he came to a breathless, wheezy stop, clearing his slightly sore throat as he took in several deep breaths and slowly managed to compose himself. That had been so sudden, and yet, he couldn’t complain. He’d forgotten that he could laugh that hard, and seeing V in such a state was always a happy occasion. It couldn’t be anything but that, in truth. V simply didn’t have it in him to laugh like that as a result of misfortune or anguish. He wondered randomly at that moment if V was the kind of person who laughed and then devolved into tears when in anguish. Something told him that might be the case if he did that while laughing… he hoped to never see that. And if he had to, he hoped that he could bring him some measure of solace and that he could serve as the relief, not the cause of his heartbreak.

Gesturing towards the nearest corner, Sirrus pretended to sho V towards their next destination. The trolly stop was only a few yards away. It had several stops, and aside from the one across the street from the museum they had just left, this was their closest option. He would offer to walk to the aquarium with V, but he thought it best to preserve their energy. They had plenty of time left, and he wanted to make the most of every second. He wanted every memory to be meaningful, be it small or large. Tomorrow had the potential to be a very long and difficult day. They both needed this break more than he’d realized. He knew that V did, but the more time they spent together the more he realized that he did, too.

“Alright, after you, then. The stop is over here. The trolly should be along any moment now. It should be a short wait.” Sirrus said as he stepped towards the corner, waiting for V to follow behind him. If they were going to hit either of them with a car, it was going to be him. His bones weren’t made of paper mache broken glass like his companions were, after all. People around here didn’t typically speed, but the two of them did have uncharacteristically dreadful luck, so it was best to be cautious, especially since this corner had a paved crosswalk but no indicator lights.

“Followed by a long ride,” V said as he started in that direction, finding himself using his cane a bit more than he might have intended. But for the moment, he needed it, and that was something that he’d long since accepted and felt no shame in. He got the occasional look from others when they saw him, probably wondering why someone so young had one, but he didn’t mind being stared at as much as he used to. The right people understood. That was all that mattered to him now. He wasn’t alone anymore. He wasn’t afraid. “I’m going to need some time to fully catch my breath.”

(-~-)

Is it hot where you all live yet, too? It hit 90F today (Wednesday 5/31) and I’m not ready. Like, no. I don’t want to be hot smh. Anyway, I hope you liked it! I’m hyped to see V experience the aquarium. He’s having fun and so am I, and I hope you are, too! Also, what do you think V and Sirrus’s favorite marine animals are? I have my thoughts but I’d love to know what you think, too! Take care out there and thank you for all your support this year. Truly. I know the schedule is a mess smh. Let me know what you think in the comments if you’d like, and I’ll see you all next Friday!

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ardenssolis · 2 years

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@metsurisen said (inbox):

❛❛ Isn't it funny ? ❜❜ She hums softly , feet kicking among the water ; ripples dance & swirl among the edges , scattering off elsewhere. & she is made of tender laughter , falling into the sun's side. To the moon , she scatters her gaze ( it looks more like a sun now , amid the night ; glowing no longer white but brighter , something of color. ) She glances to him with a little silly smile , finger tips pressing into the earth. ❛❛ I was named for the sky. You are the sun. We bonded beneath the moon & stars. I just think there's an irony to that somewhere , or a meaning. Perhaps , it's easier to be each other having bonded like this. ❜❜

❝I WAS NOT AWARE that you were such a romantic, Koto. I would almost think that you sit and think about me on a frequent basis. Which, of course, is understandable.❞ He chuckled, leaning back against his hands as he too glanced up towards the sky. It didn't matter what era he was called into, whether it be his soul summoned into a Singularity or him being called by someone in different timelines and realities -- at the end of the day, the sky was the same as it was back when he had ruled. The same brilliant blues, the same gorgeous reds, oranges, and yellows... There was almost something humbling about that thought, a reminder of how vast this world was in comparison to himself. Almost. ❝The concept of fate was one that fascinated my people greatly, although I suppose throughout the world, it still does. When someone comes into our life at a specific time or place, were they meant to be there? Or as it merely chance?❞ He paused, his gaze soon shifting from the sky to Koto once more. ❝In this case, I like to think that we met now because we were supposed to. Just as our summoner was meant to call upon us when the time came as well.❞

Fate could be such a cruel thing. It forced one to walk down a path that could not be avoided no matter what they did to break that chain, and yet...at the same time...there was also beauty in that concept too. On that long, long path, you met those who would help shape you as a person, some of it bad, some of it otherwise, but it is the journey that mattered. Fate or not. ❝That aside, regardless of what the answer is, I have enjoyed myself. Hopefully, you too feel the same.❞

#metsurisen #;metsurisen : koto #;v: chaldea days #;;f.go #answered #;;inbox

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years

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May I Taste Your Sin

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.

A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!

Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)

Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!

~*~

He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.

You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.

You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.

“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”

The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.

Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.

Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.

What is he even doing...?

“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.

You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.

“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.

Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.

Chores now, panic later.

~*~

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.

Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.

Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.

Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.

Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.

You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.

Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.

Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?

The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.

It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.

“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.

You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”

You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.

“You’re bleeding, I know.”

Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.

“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”

When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”

It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.

“Please don’t do that.”

You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.

Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.

If I could only just lick that...

Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”

“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.

“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”

It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”

“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.

“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.

Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”

Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.

Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.

~*~

Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.

“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.

You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.

Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.

Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..

On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”

Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.

“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.

Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”

“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.

They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?

You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.

You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.

“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.

You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.

He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”

You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.

“Take down your hair, Y/N.”

Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.

“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”

“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.

“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”

A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.

“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.

Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.

His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.

Closer... He’s getting closer...

When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.

“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.

You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.

Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”

Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”

It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.

“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.

“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.

It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.

That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.

In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.

His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.

“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.

Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.

He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.

“What... Michael, who are you?”

He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”

Tag list : @littledemondani @dark-mei-rose @fckinsupreme @angelicmichael @icylangdon @ritualmichael @sojournmichael @celestialrequiem @instinctsxbaby @infernwetrust @ferndolan @9layerdevilfoodcake @bloodcoatedeclipse @wormycircumstance @antichristsxbox @xavierplympton @xavierplymptons @ramona-thorns @lovelylangdonx @langdxn @codyarchives @dailylangdon @codyfernuk @langdonsjoyy @7-wonders @blakescoven @holylangdon @bitchchatter @suspiriva @taskmastter @kitty4860 @ladynuwanda @langdonsexual @sammythankyou

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