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#g: hurt/comfort
spuffyarchive · 3 months
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maybe i'm ready to love you by chasingfictions [NC-17]
“Buffy?” He almost never used to call her Buffy. Did he? Always Slayer, or pet, or love. Or like, he’d use her name, but it always sounded odd, in his mouth. All tender, touchy. Like, like he was making eye contact with her, just by saying it. "Spike." She wonders if it feels the same, for him. His name, her tongue. - (Or: Spike’s gone, and Buffy doesn’t care. No, really, she doesn’t. Cross her heart.)
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whatstheproblembaby · 2 years
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Fic: Getting a Grip
So uh...who wants some Turnadette smut? ~1900 words, part hurt/comfort, part filth.
Also on AO3.
“I can’t tell if this is more your Christmas present or mine,” Shelagh teased as they entered the house. “You’re happy to have your arm out of that wretched cast, of course-”
“But you’re happy you won’t have to chide me about potentially soaking it whenever I do so much as attempt to pour my own coffee,” Patrick said, finishing her thought fairly accurately. Shelagh watched as he swung his coat off unencumbered for the first time in weeks, matching smiles blooming across their faces. “I’m not sure I’ll ever take my freedom of motion for granted again. Or at least not for a few months.”
“That and your dexterity,” she said, hanging up her own coat and swapping her shoes for her house slippers. “I shudder to think what your handwriting’s going to look like on your next few prescriptions.”
“Can’t be any worse than the ones I tried to scribble out with my right hand!” Patrick followed her into the kitchen, where she reached for the kettle. Timothy had promised to pick the little ones up from school and take them out for the afternoon so Shelagh and Patrick could get his cast removal and introductory physiotherapy done without having to wrangle three children under the age of ten, and they had just enough time for a quick cup of tea alone before meeting their family for a celebratory dinner at Nonnatus. “Here, let me get that.”
Shelagh watched as her husband grabbed and filled the kettle, clearly enjoying having his dominant hand restored to him. He hadn’t bothered to roll his shirtsleeves down after their appointment at St. Cuthbert’s, and the sight of his forearm, paler than usual but still strong and capable, moved her to unexpected tears.
“Shelagh?” Patrick quickly set the kettle on the counter and gathered her in his arms. “Darling, what is it?”
“I’m being silly,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’ve known you were going to recover perfectly well for ages, but you’re finally out of your cast and concussion-free, standing safely in our home-”
She broke off, unable to speak through her tears. Patrick tightened his hold around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair.
“I was so scared I was going to lose you that night,” Shelagh murmured eventually. “I’m sorry, I know you were actually on that train-”
“Don’t apologise.” She felt Patrick shift their stance so he could look her in the eyes before he continued. “You weren’t in the crash - and I thank my lucky stars daily for that - but I can only imagine how stressful that night was for you, Shelagh. Told your husband and dearest friend were unaccounted for, trying to perform triage on no sleep, worried about what to tell our small children at home. And then you get sent home with an injured husband, those three lively children, and an eldest still recovering from glandular fever. You’ve risen to the challenge like you always do - but I should have provided you with the opportunity to process your feelings far sooner than this.”
“Well, you did have concussion,” Shelagh said, one corner of her mouth quirking up even as she sniffled. She stepped back into his loose embrace, her hands trailing up his chest almost of their own accord. “You get some grace when you’ve suffered a head injury.”
“I don’t have concussion anymore,” Patrick said. His voice was low and fervent, and it made her toes curl. “Let me take care of you.”
In the space of a breath, he leaned down and kissed her thoroughly, his big hands hitching her hips up so there was no space between their bodies. A fire stoked low in her belly, and she gasped into his mouth.
He broke away and put his lips against her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“I’m right here, Shelagh.”
There was a kiss to her temple.
“I came home to you.”
A kiss to her cheek.
“I would never go anywhere you couldn’t find me.”
To her other cheek.
“Of that, I am completely certain.”
At the echo of his long-ago words on the Columbia Road, she snapped, surging up on her toes and growling as she dragged him into another kiss. Her hands grasped the hair at his nape while his caressed her bottom, sending the flames from earlier crackling through her veins.
Shelagh tugged at Patrick’s hair once before scraping her nails gently over his scalp just the way he liked it, making him shiver and squeeze the curve of her ass.
“I have always been completely certain of you,” she said, mouth a hairsbreadth from his. “But I’m holding you to that promise not to leave me.”
“As long as that’s not the only part of me you’re holding,” Patrick wisecracked. He moved his mouth to her throat, trailing suckling kisses down to the neckline of her dress.
“Shouldn’t you be holding me?” Shelagh pointed out. Her tone was dry - or at least as close to dry as she was going to get in the moment - but she couldn’t keep from arching her neck and giving Patrick more access to the skin of her collarbone. “You were just prescribed strengthening exercises, after all.”
“Excellent point, my love.” Patrick shot her a saucy wink before scooping her up and depositing her on the counter, spreading her legs wide enough that he could stand between them. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint my favourite nurse.”
He leaned in to kiss her, hands looping back to unzip her dress. When she felt it loosen at her waistline, she pulled free just long enough to remove her arms from the sleeves, not wanting her own mobility impeded.
“Now for the dexterity practice,” Patrick continued. He helped her wiggle out of the top half of her slip before reaching back to undo the clasp of her brassiere and pull it off of her in one fluid motion. “Your assessment, Nurse?”
“Full marks,” Shelagh said on a gasp, Patrick already lavishing attention on her breasts. Her head knocked against the upper cabinets as he alternately kissed and bit at her left breast, stimulating and soothing all at once. His left hand tweaked her other nipple, and she let out a soft ohhh of pleasure before reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
“Not yet,” he said, gently restraining her wrists. She couldn’t keep from frowning slightly, and he relented with a laugh. As he undid his own shirt, he continued, “I suppose fair is fair, but I said I was going to take care of you, remember? Ladies first.”
His shirt fell to the ground, followed shortly by her slippers.
“Well, if you insist,” Shelagh said as Patrick lifted her hips and pushed her dress down. She took care of her own stockings, figuring she may as well assist with the proceedings.
“That’s my girl,” Patrick rumbled. Her stockings, underwear, and garter belt joined the rest of her clothing on the floor, and for a long moment, Patrick just gazed at her bare body, devouring her with his eyes.
She couldn’t blame the responding goose bumps on the December chill.
He seized her mouth once more, left hand sinking into her hair as the other braced them against the counter, and she whined, wishing for more friction. With him between her legs, she couldn’t press her thighs together to soothe the growing ache in her core.
“Is this what you want?” Patrick teased, removing his hand from her hair to cup her mound. He pressed gently against her clitoris before grinding the heel of his hand in a lazy circle, and she moaned. “Or would you prefer…”
His index finger entered her, crooking forward to find her most sensitive place.
Shelagh couldn’t control the litany of sounds coming out of her throat. She clung to his shoulders, vision starting to go hazy as Patrick rediscovered her body and all the ways he could make her whimper, groan, and sigh.
“You’re never…allowed…to get another arm injury,” she informed him brokenly. “I can’t…can’t-”
“Shh, that’s it, darling,” Patrick said, kissing her again. “I know. You can let go now.”
Now three fingers deep, he bent them inside her and rubbed his thumb over her clit, and Shelagh did just as he said. When she regained awareness, she nuzzled her face into the jointure of Patrick’s neck and shoulder and squeezed her arms around his waist before dropping her hands to his belt.
“My turn,” she said, pushing all the clothing at his hips down. He stepped out of his shoes and socks before dragging her off the counter.
“Not here,” he replied, taking her hand and leading her to the settee. “I don’t want you smacking your head.”
“We’ve had enough injuries in this family for a while,” Shelagh agreed, laughing once. “I think we deserve a little tenderness, don’t you?”
With that, she pushed Patrick down, straddling his lap as he let out a surprised oof! Before he got his wits back about him, she cradled his face for a kiss and slowly, carefully took him inside of her.
“Shelagh,” he groaned, throwing his head back. She took the opportunity to kiss down his throat, circling her hips gently as she set an easy rhythm for their union. His hands settled more firmly at her waist.
“Oh, Patrick!” His support helped her take him a little deeper, furthering her own pleasure that much more. “Oh!”
“We can be tender later,” Patrick said, rolling his own hips. “For now, I want to show you how much I missed you.”
Shelagh increased her pace, keeping a close hold on his shoulders as he clutched her hips fiercely. She suspected she would have bruises there later, and though she would never admit it to anyone outside of the room, she relished the prospect.
Electricity crackled down Shelagh’s spine. “Patrick!”
“I’m close,” he said, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “So close.”
She cried out with her second release, soaring high above the room. Patrick held her close before twisting to lay her flat on the settee, driving his hips inside her a few seconds more before he shuddered with his own climax.
“I missed this,” Shelagh said once they had both regained their breath, curled into Patrick’s side.
“We’ve never been able to be in the habit of making love on the settee,” Patrick said wryly, stroking her hair. “Or the kitchen.”
“Not these locations!” Shelagh playfully swatted at his arm. “I missed being able to be near you. Especially at night. We may have been able to keep sharing a bed, but with those pillows between us to keep you stable…I missed being in my husband’s arms.”
“I missed having you there,” Patrick said, drawing her closer. “Hopefully you’ll never have cause to leave my side again.”
Shelagh hummed in agreement, perfectly at ease. She felt herself slipping into sleep before a thought shattered her newfound peace.
“Dinner! The children!”
She almost tumbled off the settee as she and Patrick tried to get up and gather their clothing, hoping beyond hope they wouldn’t be unforgivably late. She suspected her hair would look like she had tried to re-pin it in a moving car (since, well, she had), but she couldn’t make herself regret it when Patrick’s newly freed hand slipped into hers as they walked up the front stairs at Nonnatus. She could weather being slightly disheveled if it meant her husband was hale, healthy, and, most importantly, hers.
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pepperonyfic · 1 year
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If I Believe You
Author: tonystarktrash Rating: Mature  Word Count: Above 10K Genre(s): Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort Film-specific: Post-Endgame Tropes: endgame fix it, future fic, morgan stark, thoughtful!pepper, supportive!pepper, domesticity, injured Tony, depression
Summary: “Oh, God,” he says, his voice almost unintelligible — it sounds like gears grating together, and his right hand presses hard against his throat. His panic over the state of his right eye is dwarfed by the panic that rises in him at the feeling of metal against his throat — metal, instead of the callused skin of his palm. The vitals monitor starts to chime shrilly, his heart rate climbing, as Tony attempts to burrow the fingers of his left hand underneath the panels of the suit gauntlet covering his right arm. Blood streams down the gauntlet as he frantically attempts to wrench his right arm free, the skin and delicate muscles of his fingers shredded by the metal panels. Tony is so intent on removing the gauntlet, sweat beading on his forehead, his teeth gritted together, the whites of his eyes flashing as his eyes roll madly — that he doesn’t feel the pinch of the needle as it is inserted into the base of his neck, the plunger of the syringe is depressed, and Tony falls limply back against the bed.
against all odds, tony stark survives using the infinity stones — but, god, he wishes he hadn't.
writing prompt challenge 31: little touches
READ HERE: AO3
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jensettermandu · 1 month
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six feet under - yu jimin
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genre; smut, angst, hurt/comfort
pairing; karina x g!p reader
content; despite the title there's no character death (it's just for metaphors) , unhealthy relationship; lack of communication , difficulty dealing with acceptance/reality , unintentionally hurting e/o , smut; p in v :D , unprotected sex , top karina/service bottom reader , oral (reader giving) , slight breast play , some praising
synopsis; it had always been said that nothing stays the same, it had been said ever since they were little kids and that acceptance of it was important. it helped move forward because dwelling in a past that no longer existed did no one any good. to hang onto something that didn’t exist meant falling to the deepest parts of hell willingly because no matter how much it hurt it felt like it was worth it the second they looked back at what it used to be.
wc; 15.6k+
masterlist.
It had always been said that nothing stays the same, it had been said ever since they were little kids and that acceptance of it was important. It helped move forward because dwelling in a past that no longer existed did no one any good. To hang onto something that didn’t exist meant falling to the deepest parts of hell willingly because no matter how much it hurt it felt like it was worth it the second they looked back at what it used to be. 
The silence could almost be dreading, it was so loud that it vibrated through their ribcage. It was so loud with their thoughts that they had no clue what to do. Love could be so many things, couldn’t it? It also meant that love got mistaken a lot of times too. It could make a bed feel comfortable, one they would always want to be at the end of every night, but it would always feel cold with spaces bigger than the ocean even if they were just an inch away. 
At times it felt like acknowledging the damage would only damage the rest of the world too if it was brought up. It was for everyone’s best and they could silently try to fix the damage with minimum casualties around them.
They both fell blind and only realised that they forgot to do something about it when they were dragged out of the daydreams and brought back to reality. The daydream that was the past was what made Y/n look away from her monitor once her eyes fell on the time at the bottom corner. She slipped the headphones off of her head, loose bangs falling over her forehead as they no longer were held back by the gear and she turned the chair around. Her eyes fell on the bed that was empty despite it being 0:30 AM. 
Routines changed, but they stayed. 
It had become a game of avoiding the other to not bring up the actual problems. Y/n indulged in her video games the whole day so they could avoid even looking at each other. She hadn’t spared Jimin a single glance but was now looking at the empty bed with sentiment filling her veins heavily. She deeply inhaled, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen to air out the sadness and hang on to the hope of stitching the torn back together. 
It was harder than it looked though when she had no clue how to put together a world that had been caught in a landslide and pulled them apart. It was all drifting apart, burning bridges they couldn’t stop imagining still existed. All they did was stand and look at it happening because there was nothing that they could do about these new feelings. 
She placed the headset onto the desk and reached over to the power button on the PC, her index finger coming in contact with it. Y/n pressed it and still deep in lamentful thoughts she held it for a while longer than needed before letting go. 
Just as she stood up the door opened and her tired eyes landed on Jimin whose gaze immediately was drawn to Y/n despite how far away they were. It was time to let go, but all that heaviness caused by the thoughts of finally mending their worlds and leaving the one they had built together in the past was hard to get rid of. There were so many reasons that told them to let go, but so many that told them to stay because of what once was their everything. 
“I just have to take a quick shower.” Jimin nodded at that as she stepped inside the room, leaving the door ajar as she knew what it meant. It was too cold to fall asleep beside each other on the bed, it was too uncertain of what they should do in the familiar sheets. It was easier to fall asleep alone, but it was difficult to sleep fully through the night if they weren’t both in bed at the same time. 
It had become a routine of leaving to let the other fall asleep before getting in bed too. The shower felt agonising, unsure if she had been in there long enough or if she should stay and continue to ponder. Everything around them still felt the same, but on the inside everything was different. Was it because of how suddenly it had happened? Was it because it was scary to let go of something that used to be all their comfort, scared that it was their only comfort after being it for so long? Was it because of how much they still had for each other? 
What if they got lost and became wanderers once they would let go of each other and would end up walking life without a goal to reach?
The shower felt like the only place where she could ponder now since it felt like it was too much to cry in front of each other. That would mean that they would have to talk about what was wrong and what they had to do, to do the things they weren’t ready for. The past felt so worth holding onto despite the feelings of the future never looking like they imagined. 
It was like every other time when Y/n walked back to the room, she quietly opened it, stepping inside the warmth and the comforting scent of Jimin that lingered in the air. Was it because all these things still brought her warmth and comfort? Her eyes landed on the bed that wasn’t empty this time, but would still feel cold once she settled in it. Never did they do it intentionally, but it had started happening at some point and there was nothing they could do to stop it. 
She couldn’t just not care, she always did and always would as she threw her black hoodie onto the backrest of the swivel chair she had been sitting in earlier. It merely made a sound when it landed on the chair and she walked a few small steps over to the edge of the bed where Jimin was lying. 
It had become a new routine to just stare at Jimin from a distance while trying to figure out what exactly was wrong between them. She had always adored the girl whether with words or just by looking at her from across a room, but this was different despite the adoration. This always made her eyes look a certain way, a way that whenever Jimin caught Y/n looking at her she could tell what she was thinking and Jimin found herself leaving to wipe away her tears. 
So Y/n was crouched down right by Jimin who was asleep on the bed, her head tilting as a small frown adorned her features in thought. The longer she thought the more it all felt like a pipe dream as her eyes lingered on the girl's soft features Y/n adored. The white duvet pulled up to her chin and the younger reached over to Jimin, gently grazing her fingers over the tender skin. Nothing about it had changed, it still felt as good as it always had under her fingertips. 
She pushed back some of the loose strands away from the sleeping girl’s face before she pulled her hand away fully, scared that she would wake her up, that Jimin would pull away from her touch, that they would both freeze and then go back to pretending. 
Y/n sighed at the feelings she couldn’t decipher anymore and her forehead rested on the edge of the bed for a few seconds as she closed her eyes tightly. Her fists clenched and so did her jaw to shut out everything, the landslide wiped away from her mind, the future too, the past stayed as she fished for the answers from the burning bridge. She was utterly confused, she was so lost in that field where everything had burned to the ground. 
Where did it all go? When did it all disappear?
She deeply inhaled and raised her head, shakily letting out her breath, doing it slowly to not wake Jimin up. Her fingers peeled at the cover, the small bear coming into view that Jimin was hugging–it was Y/n’s childhood plushie, but the comfort that it had held once had been transferred to Jimin. She had no clue if Jimin had transferred it further or if she still held onto it. It felt too cold at times, but they were still hanging on to the daydream.
“Goodnight, angel.” Her fists gripped onto the sheets as she left a ghost-like peck against Jimin’s soft cheek while standing up before climbing carefully over the girl to lie down by the wall. Y/n got under the duvet and laid on her back, staring at the ceiling that was empty while her head raced with thoughts that would make falling asleep so much harder. The itch to hold each other, but the fear of it not feeling the same anymore kept them at a distance and so the ache grew, but the silence didn’t dissipate. It was loud enough to mask the sounds of the heartbreak. 
Jimin heaved a sigh, her eyes opening in the silent room, knowing that Y/n was lying just behind her, but she wasn’t able to feel her. The simple peck, the brush of fingers against her skin, the goodnight, the innocent pet name; all made her eyes burn hot in the freezing weather that the room was in. It made her stiffen up her lower lip to try and keep them at bay, clutching the little bear harder, burying her nose into its brown fuzzy fur. 
Each time she blinked her eyes its fur soaked up the tears, being the only witness of them, the only thing wiping them for her, holding her sorrows inside its small frame. She was afraid that it would overfill soon enough, that the bear would turn salty and bitter from her tears, and that it wouldn’t want to give her any more comfort because of that. She longed, but they flew apart and she couldn’t figure out what exactly she longed for as Jimin felt just as lost and confused about everything as Y/n was. 
Was it all broken or just bent? She had no clue, Jimin didn’t even know what exactly it was that was wrong. Or maybe she knew just what was wrong, but pretended that she didn’t?
It echoed in Y/n’s head after the alarm had gone off around 6 AM and she had turned it off–their last rehearsal before they were off to Tokyo, Japan. What their mornings used to look like kept replaying in her head, the sounds of them like an echo of silence now because they no longer happened. There was no room filled with giggles despite it being early at dawn or noon. No words that were sweet affection were exchanged between them. There was no holding each other, hugging, kissing, and just being there with each other, close and content.
Neither could remember the last time they had said an ‘I love you’ to each other. 
It used to be always in the mornings, before bed and throughout the day. 
It made Y/n exhale while turning to lay on her back as they slept with their backs turned to each other. She tiredly stared at the ceiling unable not to look over at Jimin whose back was still turned to her, it was like a big ice wall fell and blocked them off. ‘It’s fine’ kept repeating itself in Y/n’s head as she pursed her lips and grabbed her phone to see that the time still flew and didn’t wait for them. It did not wait and they were wasting time away from each other when they could be making it meaningful. 
The footsteps outside were heard now and Y/n knew that they didn’t have more time to sit and wallow in their sorrows of holding onto something that wasn’t there. 
“We have to start getting up.” The girl mumbled just to make sure that the first alarm had managed to wake up Jimin. It did for Y/n because she hadn’t been able to fall into a deep slumber because of all the thoughts.
It was harsh, it was like a strong tornado carrying all types of feelings in it came through the room and cut through Y/n’s skin. “I know, Y/n.” The softness was gone and Y/n bit her lower lip because despite it all they hadn’t been like two snakes around each other, ready to bite and leave venom any second. They hadn’t tried to make it sting more than it already did, but it seemed impossible to do for too long. 
The younger still caught the sweet scent of Jimin that made the moment slightly less bitter, reminding her of all the good times when she’d be drowned in the scent. The duvet was thrown off of Jimin who got up from the bed, grabbing the hoodie from the chair on her way and all she left behind was a whirlwind of unspoken emotions after leaving the door ajar when she walked out. 
Y/n grabbed the little bear that fell beside her and stared at it, looking for answers in the tears she knew that Jimin was shedding every night. She pretended that she didn’t hear it, that she was asleep, that she simply didn’t know that she was making the girl cry. It was easier that way and in the morning she would look at the bear and still get no answers. She couldn’t acknowledge her silent cries because they would have to do something about everything if she did. 
Practice went as usual, almost as usual for the two of them. They both wondered if the rest had noticed their lack of communication and how they occupied themselves with the others to not make eye contact by accident. If they did notice, it wasn’t like any of them would comment on it since Y/n and Jimin’s relationship wasn’t their business. 
It didn’t even seem to be Jimin and Y/n’s business anymore as neither of them spoke about it. 
Still half panting, Y/n sat on the couch with Minjeong as the two got engulfed in the Nintendo 3DS Y/n had brought with her. There was an emptiness that she hadn’t been able to grow used to, she had become so used to having someone always right next to her for the past three years. It wasn’t constant clinging to each other, but even the small things such as brushing their legs or glancing at each other. The loss of that made a void grow bigger each second and the only thing that would fill it was if things went back to how they used to be.
It made Y/n wonder if Jimin felt the same and so she glanced away from the game, her eyes landing on her girlfriend. She was so used to it so she wasn’t sure if it was Jimin specifically or just a habit that was hard to let go of now, all that affection. The girl was busy talking to Aeri and no matter what they were doing someone’s back was always turned to the other. Y/n’s hoodie-clad the girl’s upper body and Y/n tilted her head, thinking about how maybe that was what brought Jimin the comfort of having someone next to her, just the warmth and scent. 
Their confusion about the situation was what made it hard for them to get back to the intimacy they used to share.
The door opened and Ning walked in with their manager, catching everyone’s attention as it got noisier when they started to all converse while making it to the couch. However, Y/n looked back down at the 3DS to occupy her eyes with something for a few more seconds to not try to figure out where Jimin would sit this time. 
Aeri was about to sit on the wooden floor, her eyes seeing the lone spot left beside Y/n as Ning was already on the floor by Minjeong’s legs with her drink and one of the pastries. Jimin made sure to insist that she could take the spot, but it still left her in an awkward spot on the floor by Y/n’s legs. Her shoulder brushed against them, bumping into each other constantly and she couldn’t bring herself to sit still, especially not when all the emotions were bubbling inside her. 
She couldn’t remember being this emotional before. 
How else was she supposed to be when everything felt out of control and she had no clue what to do? There was nothing she could do no matter how hard she tried to catch everything only for it to slip right through her fingers. 
Jimin wanted to cry when she took a sip of her drink and something just had to top it all off when her order seemed nothing but wrong. Everything in her life was crumbling, she was in pure distress and despair. However, things only could get worse–they had yet to reach the bottom–and not better because among the cold there was always a warmth as she tried to stop the pout on her lips while staring at her drink. 
Jimin felt like a puddle of water in the middle of the road, no one appreciated them and walked around them and all they did was harbour filth; filth being these feelings that only grew bigger, the mess of a puddle becoming bigger too. 
She looked up at the hand that took her drink, her glossy eyes meeting Y/n’s for a split second. 
The younger felt a heat shoot through her body, it was as if she broke a limb at the pain that she felt seeing Jimin actually harbour these tears and not just cry at night when she thought that Y/n was asleep. It hurt her chest, she cared about Jimin, and she knew that she always would because before she became her lover she was her best friend and member. Maybe that's why it hurt even more. Y/n had no clue who she lost in this silent war they were stuck in. 
Was she losing a lover? A best friend? A member?
“You can have mine.” Y/n knew her, Jimin hated it because it made everything even harder and Y/n could see the way the tears grew as quickly as a high tide in the girl’s eyes. She looked hurt, she was hurting, they were hurting, but they continued to do so without saying anything. Why could Y/n tell from a certain pout that Jimin wasn’t satisfied with her food or drink? Why did they have to be so caring for each other? It made cold things warm and they had no clue why things were cold to begin with.
They didn’t want to lose it.
She took the iced green tea she knew that Y/n loved and the younger took her drink. All it took was a sip of it and it all got overwhelming once again because the thoughts didn’t stop crashing inside of her head, exploding and occupying every corner of her mind. It made her wonder if Y/n was busy thinking the same things throughout her whole day too and the thought of being the only one to do so hurt immensely. 
“I will be back–restroom.”
The girls hummed, going back to what they were doing as Jimin excused herself, leaving everything behind her and she wished she could do that with the reality that she didn’t want to live in. It was haunting her. 
She missed the days when her biggest worries in a relationship were that the promised forever wouldn’t be long enough and not that everything had possibly dropped dead like flies around them, that the forever would never happen. It was a painfully slow dance in a burning room that neither of them left just to see if they could still survive once everything had crumbled fully and the smoke had filled their lungs.
Y/n knew that letting time pass would be too painful to sit through. Nothing was waiting for them. Even if it meant a bigger gap, she gave her 3DS to Minjeong who continued on the game while Y/n had become a pawn in a game no one was controlling. It was a game of chaos no one could cultivate anything out of, no order, no logic, no helpful solutions. This was a game of walking a thin line of nothing and everything. 
It was too tiring, walking inside the bathroom felt like getting locked in the confines of a place where no one would ever find her, no one would see her. No one would see if Jimin broke down in the bathroom and it made relief wash over her and the tears spilled like a broken dam. That was all it took and she tried to calm down, but it wasn’t possible as she turned on the faucet, letting it run to drown out her snivels and deep breaths. 
It was exhausting to be crying almost every day, she didn’t know what sleep was anymore and all she lived for was sorrow, she lived to continue hurting. 
Why did they make something simple so complicated? Love was what made it complicated. 
She used the pads of her palms and wiped at her eyes while tilting her head back and letting out a shaky breath. It felt like there was no calming down from this and each second only made it worse. The silence despite the running water, the echoes in the tiled bathroom, and the stalls empty. 
Jimin could still remember all the other times she had been crying in the same bathroom when everything felt like it was all for nothing because she couldn’t feel fulfilment despite her achievements. She could remember the way her girlfriend would end up in the same bathroom, coaxing it all out of her, taking all her burdens and carrying them for her. Could Y/n do the same thing now when they both were in the same shoes?
Everything reminded her of Y/n except Y/n herself. They both felt distant and like different people. 
Even the light knock on the door was familiar and she took in a shuddering breath, turning to look at Y/n when she opened the door. It fell closed right after, her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants, restricting herself from all those instincts that always kicked in. Her eyes followed the hesitance that was clear in Jimin’s body that pulled to Y/n, but with so much trouble as she held the sleeve of the hoodie against her trembling lips. 
“Come on,” Y/n mumbled, knowing that it was all that was needed to get the girl to just break down fully. “It’s okay to not be okay,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arms around the girl’s shoulders who shook in her arms. The hot tears were burning against her pale skin, wetting her neck, trailing down and spilling like they never had before. Her cheek rested against the side of Jimin’s head, pulling her closer to her body, into her warmth because it was all still the same, but it felt different. 
What was it that exactly wasn’t okay? It wasn’t just them themselves, but them together and it ended up making both of them not feel okay. 
Jimin tightly wrapped her arms around Y/n’s waist, crying into her neck. She got pulled closer, her head being cradled by Y/n’s hand. All of it made it impossible to hold the walls up, the ones that were supposed to show that she wasn’t as bothered by it as she truly was. In reality, Jimin could barely breathe through it without falling into a panic attack. Hearing Y/n’s words, and hearing that it was okay made it so much easier to let it all out, especially when she was with the girl and held by her. 
The reassurance that it was okay to cry about the landslide made it easier. Y/n recognised the burdens and Jimin wasn’t alone.
“I’m sorry for how I took it out on you in the morning.” Y/n only hummed, holding her close as Jimin had been a rose with its thorns aimed at Y/n since they woke up. From the harsh words to the ways she blatantly shut her out even when it was a small question not to her girlfriend but to the leader of Aespa. Jimin was scared and it was affecting her role as a leader too, as a member of the group. The fear was consuming her life fully and was getting in the way of everything. 
“I’m just so tired and I can barely sleep at night.” Or maybe she could sleep just fine but chose to cry at night instead of closing her eyes. She woke up more tired each day, every little second got more exhausting than the other. 
“I know, I’m sorry for all of this.” The younger knew all about it, but what she didn’t know was what exactly she was apologising for. Y/n knew that Jimin was crying at night because of what was happening between them, but she knew that it wasn’t her fault or Jimin’s. It was natural, it would have happened at some point, right? Y/n inhaled, closing her eyes because it hurt her, but seeing how much it affected Jimin made it hurt so much more and it made everything more complicated. 
“We can’t keep going without knowing where it’s all heading. I’m confused and–” Y/n stopped her before they got too deep into the truth because neither of them was ready to let go just yet, neither wanted to end it just yet. They needed some more time, some more time to find more than just one option to end their pain. There always was more than one choice. 
She pulled away from Jimin, her upper body lingered with the warmth that the shorter girl left after her. Jimin gripped at Y/n’s sweater, knowing that once they let go they would be apart for what would feel like years again. The void between them would become even bigger than it already was and they would avoid it for much longer. 
“I care about you, nothing will change that and it’s all fine, Jimin.” She held her face cupped in her hands, tears hitting her skin as the girl looked up at her with quivering eyes. They knew that these false paintings of their relationship would make them feel better for now. Not in the long run, but they tried to live in the present–it didn’t matter if they reminisced and avoided the problems of the present. 
Jimin blinked her eyes, trying her best to run into the daydream, trying to escape reality. Her eyes closed, hoping that she would be thrown into her daydream as Y/n kissed her forehead. 
She missed the pretty sunset sky, the fireworks, the green grass, the clouds that came in different shapes and would be fluffy. It was like a childish dream and possibly some people had been right when they said that young love was complicated. It wasn’t like they cared, they had always felt like teenagers in love with each other. 
Why wasn’t it working though? Where did it all go? It no longer felt like a daydream. It no longer felt like it used to do. 
It was so difficult to grasp something that physically wasn’t there, neither of them could grasp it, at the feelings. Love was so beautifully painful the way it painted them with all these different colours. The canvas would always be filled with them and to the eye it would always be beautiful but to the souls that served as the canvas it would always be heaven and hell. Among white there was blue, among blue there was green, among green there was red and it went on. 
The daydream was constantly corrupted by the harsh reality. 
It was like walking a tightrope.
The smallest mistakes felt deadly.
The stupidest mistakes.
It would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that there was so much on the line. 
It was part of the social culture and Y/n had happened to fall victim to it because a few cigarettes had turned into a pack or two a week. What were her reasons? Probably all that went on in her hectic life, but it hadn’t been easy to sneak around with an addiction. It got especially hard when the dorm arrangements changed because she and Jimin got together. 
Y/n had managed to sneak around for a whole two months. All it took was one week of sharing a room with Jimin who gave up on pretending that she didn’t notice the lingering smell of tobacco on Y/n and slowly herself. 
‘Fine, I will quit for you.’
‘Not for me. For yourself and your health.’
‘Doing it for you makes it easier.’
‘Only if you don’t start doing it again. It will hurt to think that doing it for me wasn’t enough.’
‘I promise.’
Even the simplest promises were being broken. It felt all the more hopeless.
It was hard, to say the least with starting to dose down on how much she smoked until it was nothing at all. Y/n had never thought of herself as someone who grew addicted easily, but nicotine turned out to be a bitch and even a year and a half after quitting the cravings came back. There were certain times when they were extra tempting, it made her irritated and restless. It was times like these that she always had her substitutes for them, from nicotine patches to nicotine gum or simply Jimin. 
This time it felt like Jimin was the cause of the cravings. 
The world around them no longer felt real because of how they had surrounded themselves in a fake reality. 
“Did you slam the door in my face?” Venom, that was what Jimin spat out, pure venom behind her words as she locked the door to the green room. The rest were out and talking to their label mates, but it was better to make sure they didn’t walk in if they came back earlier. The last thing Jimin or Y/n wanted was for the rest to notice that everything around them was crumbling, that it had all become a smoke screen. 
Y/n inhaled deeply, rummaging through her stuff, ignoring the clatter as she was on the brink of losing it. “I didn’t and if I did, it wasn’t intentionally. I had no fucking clue you were behind me.” It was a low mutter, but it was just as poisonous as Jimin’s tone which had been louder. At the back of her head, Y/n had been expecting Jimin to be right behind her, she was the whole reason why she was buzzing with cravings. 
“You slammed it in my face and an apology wouldn’t hurt you, Y/n.” Jimin had no clue why she was letting it drag on. She could have dropped it, she was aware that Y/n didn’t know and even if she did, Jimin knew she deserved ten more doors slammed closed in her face. 
“You want me to apologise?” Y/n snapped that easily and it had never happened between the two of them–the cravings only made it worse together with the tension of constantly being on their guard not to let anything slip past them. 
They never really fought to begin with. All those small fights that never meant anything, that never held any real frustrations, it was different now. Those pent-up emotions came out and spilled right over the head of the other. Y/n wanted to throw it at Jimin because her girlfriend had been doing it since they landed in Tokyo. They were being petty for the sake of being it and not for any good causes. Y/n tossed the stuff onto the table, ignoring the even louder clatter of the things and continued to look through her stuff. 
“Called manners.” She commented. It was like she knew that something so simple would irk Y/n more than she already was, especially in this state.
“Oh, so Karina wants to talk manners.” Y/n huffed and turned around, leaning back against the table. Her arms crossed as she gripped onto her arms, hiding the tremor in her fingers as the anger and everything else was overwhelming. She hated fighting with the girl, but it felt inevitable when they were alone in the room with so much tension already lingering between them. 
The past couple of fights they’ve had been nothing but hurtful with no apologies after, pretending it never happened to begin with. 
Jimin’s eyes squinted at the words, Y/n barely called her by her stage name even when they were on stage. Hearing her bring it up was enough to let her know what Y/n was pointing at.
Jimin was falling under the pressure of juggling work and a relationship she could no longer figure out. It had never been a problem for them, but she felt like she had failed her role in the group by letting personal conflicts get in the way. 
Nonetheless, it would be impossible to admit to now when they were in an argument that grew by the second. 
“Don’t comment on my work ethic when you barely have yours under control. You’re being sensitive.” She argued, knowing very well that she had been letting her complex emotions and confusion about where she and Y/n were heading get in the way of her professionalism. 
“You’re the one crying over a door.” Y/n scoffed in disbelief, pointing at the door in question that was behind Jimin. The girl pulled on the strings of her hoodie in frustration at Y/n’s words. It only fueled her on, she couldn’t remember being able to get this angry with Y/n before, she had never thought that she could get angry with her. Or maybe it wasn’t anger that she felt towards Y/n, but just frustration because of how confusing their relationship had turned. How dead it was. 
Maybe she was angry at herself, at the world, or at how confusing love could be. She was angry at the fact that they let it die to begin with. 
“Because you slammed it in my face!” This time she let her voice fly way above what she imagined she would, her foot stomping down in frustration. The tears welled up in her eyes so easily, that constant haunting fragile mentality as everything was hurting and it didn’t let her breathe. 
“Because you are doing a shit job at being a leader!” Y/n watched Jimin pace around, watching how desperately she tried to get rid of her tears. Those tears of frustration, not knowing how else to take it out she yelled at Y/n and cried, but there was only so much that could cover her tears now. 
“Don’t comment on my work ethic, Y/n.” She repeated and found herself in front of Y/n, it almost felt dangerous to be so close to each other at a moment like this. It was scary because they had never had these fights and being so close to what used to be just comfort felt wrong, it felt wrong to bring these feelings into their safety net.
It ruined their purpose, the place they went to when they wanted to escape these feelings, the pressure, the world. It was all truly gone, wasn’t it?
She could feel it all spiral, leaving them with no control over what happened between them in the room.
“Someone has to when you forget how to separate relationships from work. Be a fucking leader and answer a fucking question instead of shutting me out because of our personal life.”
“It’s not easy when this is what it looks like!” She threw her arms, motioning to the mess they were together, the one they both had been avoiding because of how complicated it was. It was hard not to notice, but impossible to truly acknowledge and so it all mixed into everything else.  
“Nothing is ever easy for you, is it? That’s why I always become your punching bag when things go wrong.” The words left Y/n bitterly, her hands gripping onto the table behind her as she exhaled these deep breaths that helped with nothing. Watching Jimin with tears in her eyes wasn’t helping, but Y/n felt like the girl had been trampling all over her. She was using her title as a leader and girlfriend in a nonchalant way, she was neglecting Y/n as a member and not a lover. 
“That’s not true and you know it.” Jimin knew that it was all true, her tone faltering as she would feel even more guilty if she raised her voice to spit out lies. It hurt too much to say the truth of the situation. 
“It has been even more true lately,” Y/n muttered, her eyes leaving Jimin’s. 
It felt like the woman in front of her was trying to coax her into forgiving her without Jimin having to apologise. Y/n was done doing those things. She couldn’t put it all aside like all the other times when she accepted Jimin’s apologies she never even said. The ones where Y/n blatantly admitted to being wrong even when she wasn’t because she didn’t want to fight or see Jimin cry.
“Because–because—” Now came the difficult part for Jimin who had no good excuse for this and she knew that she was wrong. The problem bigger than this one was her pride and ego, they got in the way, especially now after how tense everything has been.  
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing is changing.” It made Jimin’s heart drop, Y/n’s stomach twisting at her own words that she never wanted to say. It was what it felt like though. 
She gently grabbed Jimin’s shoulder to have her step aside as she stood up to walk out the door. 
“Don’t say that.” A quiver fell from between her lips, a lump in Jimin’s throat that cut deep and made it all bleed much worse than it already was. Her hand grabbed Y/n’s to have her stay because, in the end, she didn’t want her lover to leave, not just yet and she quickly stopped in front of Y/n. She would never accept those words, not now at least because hearing them made her lightheaded, it made her chest clench and she wanted to collapse onto the floor to be swallowed before she could feel more pain.
“Where’s our manager? I need her to buy cig–”
“You’re not smoking just because things go wrong for us!” It wasn’t possible to speak with a quivering voice, it was too soft so she raised her voice again. She still cared about Y/n as a member, friend, lover and person, it didn’t matter what was going on between them. Jimin would always care about Y/n. Her hand bunched up the material of Y/n’s shirt in her hand as to keep the girl from leaving her. She refused to let go, in the end, she wasn’t supposed to want anything else but Y/n and even if her feelings were different she clung to that idea. 
That there was only one person for the both of them.
“Is this something else you want to cry about!? You didn’t bring my shit with you because you’re being petty and expect me to break habits.” It had become a habit, Jimin had become someone Y/n relied on with most of her things. If Jimin had been packing certain things for her it had become a habit that she would do it every time and it never crossed Y/n’s mind to do it herself anymore. 
It had never bothered Jimin either and now it was doing nothing but pissing both of them off. Those flaws they had accepted and learned to love before were nothing but a hassle to deal with now and they wanted the other to erase them and change. To change so they could learn to love these new people they would become.
“If you said that you quit for me then fucking keep the promise or will you break them all just because it isn’t working out for us at the moment? And I’m not your mother, Y/n, why do you rely on me packing your fucking things!” She shoved Y/n by the shoulder, wanting to get her away from her even for a split second because she was boiling over with emotions. It would never end well no matter who they were fighting with when there were too many emotions.
Jimin felt conflicted at her own pushing and pulling as she one second wanted no one but Y/n and the other second she couldn’t stand the girl.
“Everything I did for you feels like a waste at the moment when all you give me is headaches, Jimin.” Y/n’s voice was rough and loud, ignoring that they had more performances tomorrow. Jimin could feel the vibrations in her ribcage and she harshly wiped away the tears. It felt like Y/n didn’t deserve her tears at this exact moment, not after those words. She snivelled, still unable to stop them though because how couldn’t she cry when this was what they were now?
They continuously watched what they used to be washed away with each wave that clashed with their shore and dragged away the good to leave filth behind instead.
“I fucking regret even giving you an ounce of my time and life because you’re nothing but a pain to look after. You don’t get to be angry at me because I had to worry about not forgetting my stuff and yours on top of everything!” She couldn’t help but feel like all the blame was now coming her way and maybe she had let Y/n get too comfortable. Jimin couldn’t help it then, but the longer it went on the more she realised that it wouldn’t work that way. 
“You’re like a manchild for fuck’s sake.” Jimin groaned out as it continued to dawn upon her how much of an immature child Y/n could be. Had she been blind all this time? Why did she suddenly mind it? Why were these words even leaving her mouth when she had always loved and accepted Y/n for the person that she was? Were they just looking for reasons to make it all stop? 
“You made it a habit and I stuck to it. Suck it up the same way I have to suck up when I’m your punching bag whenever things don’t go your way.” Y/n couldn’t help but truly realise how much she always let Jimin get away with. The things she would say, the things she would do that hurt, Y/n always forgave her for every little thing because Jimin could do no wrong in her eyes. Jimin was spiralling right now because Y/n hadn’t forgiven her yet for how she had been pushing the younger girl around for the past few days as a member of the same group.
Here she was, still letting the woman in front of her shove her around and blame her for her own mistakes. The way she always forgave Jimin within seconds when she saw tears in her eyes even if Jimin was in the wrong. Y/n felt played by the older now as she realised how their dynamic had worked. 
Y/n would always be the one to take the blame even when it wasn’t hers to take. 
Jimin would always be the one to suffer from how much she took on herself willingly because Y/n couldn’t do it.
“You were playing video games instead of packing even after you saw how stressed I was with my stuff. You got upset over your motion sickness patches, your headphones, fucking lenses and now your gum. I’m fucking surprised you packed your clothes!” 
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t even enter the room without you getting pissed off because I would breathe. I’m not the one being immature but you, Jimin. You are the one who mixed our relationship into work, you’re the one who isn’t professional–” The older girl could feel herself boil over with anger with each point that Y/n made, each word pushing her closer to the edge. She felt like the points Y/n made were being invalidated, Y/n had yet to accept it for what it was and Jimin hated having the truth about herself being pointed out this way. 
“–the one to force habits and then thinking you can just switch them up within a second because you suddenly don’t like what you wanted. Not the whole world revolves around you, but you’ve been too fucking selfish lately to realise it.” Despite all the coldness between them and all that seemed gone, they hung on because every day small things happened that gave them hope–small gestures were enough and they were brought back to the past. It felt as if Jimin hadn’t been trying to work towards each other, but away from each other. “I’m always looking out for you and caring for you.”
Jimin was simply too scared to move anywhere at all because it felt like the smallest mistake would make what was left fall apart fully. She felt paralysed by how scared she was of the truth. It was like having bricks constantly pile on her chest, it was difficult to breathe with them there, and it was difficult to move with them there. The girl felt like she was chained to the pits of hell while staring up at heaven in hopes of it coming down to her. 
What it ended with was it looked like she was selfish for being too scared to move, as if she wanted the world to revolve around her. And maybe if it did it would make everything easier for her. 
“Go fuck yourself Y/n and stop trying to make yourself look like a hero when you make as many mistakes as I do.” Jimin scoffed and wiped at her eyes as she pushed past Y/n, they both felt completely neglected and invalidated by the other. The reality of what it always has been wasn’t easy to swallow because it had never bothered them until now. She was aware that she made mistakes, but Y/n made them too and couldn’t claim the title of a hero when they did as much caring as they did hurting.
Y/n turned on her heels as Jimin pushed past her, she could see the anger, despair and distress clouding her. It was like a grey cloud over their heads, constantly being there for them when they didn’t want it. “It doesn’t excuse your mistakes either and considering my girlfriend won’t do it, yeah, I will ‘cause she’s too busy being stuck up.” Y/n could tell that the last of her words were too much, that they were too disrespectful and insensitive, and that she shouldn’t even be thinking about it right now. Maybe Jimin was right about being nothing but a ‘manchild’. 
Y/n truly felt the consequences of her words when Jimin felt them dig deep into her heart and it was enough to throw everything else out. It was just for a second and she knew she could regret it and feel guilty about it later. The stinging on her palm would subside, but feeling disrespected by Y/n for the first time in her life would linger far longer as she turned back around and landed it across the younger’s cheek. 
“You’re an immature fucking child, Y/n. I’m not just for your pleasure and needs, so fucking respect me.” She spat out, holding onto the girl’s shirt with her stinging hand as it all shut Y/n up. The two were able to very clearly see through each other like glass, it wasn’t even like glass, but air from how clear it was and all they could see was pain and hurt. They caused each other pain and hurt and everything else they used to make each other feel was gone—but then came those moments where it wasn’t gone even if it was for a second and so they held on.
They both felt horrible as Jimin grabbed her things while wiping her tears, not sparing Y/n more glances. All she knew was that she needed to cry to let it all subside for even a bit. Y/n slumped down on the couch, the nicotine cravings slapped out of her. She held her cold palm against her cheek trying to ease the pulsating pain she knew she deserved and Jimin did too as they both were suffering for keeping each other chained down. 
Maybe they had never been perfect, to begin with.
Were all these things stuff they had always wanted to say and they now took the opportunity to do so since everything was already falling apart? Did they hold back on saying these things before because they were scared that they would ruin everything? Or were these things something that should have been brought up a long time ago to make it work out? 
They couldn’t answer that. No one could because it was too late.
Jimin had known that she would feel bad after, that the guilt would eat at her. She was terrified that their relationship had taken a new step forward, towards a goal they didn’t want to reach when Y/n slept in Minjeong’s hotel room. The two peers–in age–were close in the end and so Jimin spent the night tossing and turning wondering if the truth would come out now. That their love was under ruins, crushed and bleeding to death, setting the truth in stone and burying what they used to have six feet under to start a new life. 
She wondered if Y/n spent the whole night awake. Jimin could barely fall asleep knowing they were in the same bed, but with their backs turned to each other, let alone after what happened. She could barely sleep because of how her insides twisted in hopes of escaping to get away from the excruciating pain. The part of them being away after what went down only made her even more anxious. 
The girl got her answers the next day when Y/n was tired and Minjeong went on about her day without a single knowing glance or word. 
They had avoided each other unless they were on stage, but the second they came off it was back to normal. The new normal, they both missed the old normal but they seemingly couldn’t go back to it. 
Or so they thought because once again all that they had been missing poured over them like a rainstorm. 
The simple idea for all of them to go out and eat after the days of performing. There had been an undoubtful tension between the two and not for the same reason they would like to think. It felt horrible to sit beside each other without having apologised for what had happened. However, the longer they sat at the table the closer they seemed to get, but it could have been the alcohol in their veins. 
“I swear, it’s the first time these two aren’t all over each other.” 
Y/n felt a slight heat shoot through her, one of anxiety at Ning’s drunken words because now everyone seemed aware of the situation. It could have been the fact that they dared to speak up about it when they were drunk. Y/n didn’t know what it was, but she toyed with one of the side dishes, knowing that she and Jimin always got more affectionate when they were drunk.
“Tired, that’s all…” Y/n mumbled, trailing off as she looked over at Jimin who sat right beside her–the rest continuing the chatter. The two had been coming closer and closer with each shot of soju and every beer they finished. They could feel the other's heat on them, craving each other in this state no matter what had happened between them for the past months. They craved the affection of the other so much that it hurt, it was boiling from the inside and they were waiting for the other to cave in so they could be close. 
She watched for a second more as Jimin struggled with the marinated perilla leaf, lip between her teeth as she gently swayed, going over her limit this time. Y/n would always be the one to cave in for the older girl. Jimin rarely drank more than she could handle and even that was a lot, but Y/n could tell she was trying to drown herself further. The older woman was already drowning in all her emotions and trying to drown them in alcohol only intensified it all and Jimin felt like she would burst any second and start begging in front of everyone else. 
Y/n turned in her seat the slightest, her attention on the woman who was still the most beautiful one she had ever seen. The one she desired, but it was all so different no matter how beautiful they both were to each other. Her right hand reached over to Jimin, brushing the hair behind her ear and reaching with her left for the leaf. 
Eyes were glossed over, like polished glass from alcohol when Jimin finally looked up and Y/n picked up the leaf, her hand still holding back the hair so it wouldn’t get in the way. 
It was crushing both of them. Jimin felt her world brighten up with hope that had no space in their world anymore, but she wasn’t letting go yet. Y/n fed her with eyes gazing over Jimin’s features, feeling excruciating pain at the fact that she had made her cry, at the fact that they kept hurting each other unintentionally by holding on. It was worth it when these moments still managed to slip through the cracks and let in some light. 
Y/n let go of the latter's hair and wrapped her arm around Jimin’s waist when she leaned into her, resting her weight on Y/n’s side. Her hands found Y/n’s warmth as they pushed under the girl's loose sweater, doing all the holding on that she could. 
“I miss you.” They were sentimental words as Jimin gently whispered, her breath brushing over Y/n’s neck and the younger girl pulled her closer. Y/n took in a deep breath at how homesick she felt for a home she no longer had. They missed each other, they missed what they used to have, but no longer did and it dug into their hearts with no care, tearing them into pieces at how messy it felt. 
“I miss you–miss us,” Y/n mumbled, their world shutting the rest out, inhaling the smog-filled air of everything that had burned down to ashes. Jimin hummed as her eyes closed, hoping that the drunk sentiment would be able to suffice for now even if it was for just one night. All they needed was one night to figure it out, to get to feel what they missed and see if they could bring it all back to life. She felt Y/n’s soft lips press against her head and she nuzzled her face further into the scent that used to be a home and now was only what was left of one.
Her lips gently pressed over Y/n’s skin, her nails gently scratching over Y/n’s back as she moved her other hand up. She cupped the younger’s face, thumb caressing the porcelain-like skin she deeply regretted putting her hand on but she couldn’t regret it when she thought back on what they said to each other. Jimin deserved to suffer for her actions and Y/n deserved to suffer just as much. They would continue until they did the necessary.
Y/n got her head tilted down and looked at Jimin who rested her head against the younger’s shoulder. Her eyes pleaded for a remedy for all the heartbreak even if it was for just one night. To just get away from reality for a few hours. Her fingers brushed over Y/n’s cheek. Y/n gave a small nod and reached over for the beer she had left, finishing it and hoping it would all last long enough and not end the way it did a few days ago. 
“Will you guys mind if we leave early?” The girl asked, but it was already set in stone as she grabbed her jacket and helped Jimin up. They looked over at the two who were closer to each other than they had been for the past few months as Y/n put her jacket over Jimin. 
“Not at all,” Aeri replied, the rest humming in agreement.
It was a short walk to the hotel, wrapped up in each other the whole way and not letting go for a second as they walked in silence, scared to let go or say something that would make it difficult to be this way again. 
They at last did let go as they walked inside the hotel room, but it all shifted for a second as Y/n kicked off her shoes and sat down at the foot of the bed. There was no escaping this landslide, the clash that destroyed so much as she missed what she used to have with Jimin, but had no clue if they could get that back. It tied knots around her heart and tugged on it constantly. 
The latter managed to get her shoes off, the jacket falling after her as she walked over to Y/n. Despite the slight blur, she could see clearly through everything else and now was the only time she knew she could apologise. 
It used to be easier. 
“Y/n…” 
The girl took a deep breath and looked away from her hands and at Jimin who kneeled beside her. Her chin rested against Y/n’s thigh as she stared up at her girlfriend, her lower lip slightly jutted out. The younger one hummed, her hand running through Jimin’s hair as she caressed her scalp gently, missing the touch of someone else. The back of her fingers trailed over Jimin’s cold cheek who grabbed hold of Y/n’s hand, intertwining their fingers.
The silence braced them as they stared at each other, heads tilting, ears filling with the heavy yet soft breaths from alcohol-filled veins, the buzz of the outside world only faint. That silence of acceptance of what their love was, what it used to be and how it no longer was. 
Jimin heaved a sigh and rested her cheek against Y/n’s thigh, staring off into the dimly lit hotel room. The sentiment of sorrow, sadness and nostalgia as everything had become too farro reach now and it would be hard to save anything. If they could continue to pretend then everything would go back to being fine. If they lived a lie long enough, it would become their reality. 
“I’m sorry about the other day—” She mumbled, slumped on the floor and her gaze moved as she tilted her head to look Y/n in the eye. Their eyes connected, filled with the buzz of alcohol, and the perception of the fake reality they had created in their head washed over them. Those small gestures that made hope wash over them wouldn’t change anything, would they? They didn’t want to think about it. “I shouldn’t have raised my hand,” her lips momentarily formed into a pout at the disdain she felt for her actions.
Jimin knew there was no excuse for it even if she felt like an emotional wreck. They were losing control and it was starting to deeply affect them. They were going full speed through crossings with no hands on the wheels, covering their eyes to not look at the truth and soon enough they would crash right into a wall. 
“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Y/n always let Jimin get away with everything and nothing would probably ever change that.
Jimin shook her head, lifting it from Y/n’s thigh as she got up to stand on her two feet. Y/n’s fingers tangled into the sweatshirt the girl had on as she stood between her legs. Despite the slight tremors in Jimin’s fingers, buzzing with more than just alcohol, but also a surge of feelings, the uncertainty, longing, feelings of loss and hope; she cupped Y/n’s face in her hands. Her touch was soft as Y/n’s glimmering eyes met her.
“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did either.” Y/n mumbled, closing her eyes and resting in Jmin’s hands who caressed her features with her thumbs. They still would always melt at the affection because it was normal to crave, but it didn’t feel like it used to. Aside from it feeling good, those other things didn’t spread across them. “I’m sorry.” 
That sorry felt like it was for more than what happened in that room and Jimin knew it. She knew that the apology was because they both genuinely felt bad for letting a promise of forever die. 
‘I love you.’
‘Never stop loving me, Y/n.’
‘I will love you forever, I promise.’
‘I will love you forever, Y/n, I will always care about you.’
‘Don’t cry, Jimin, I’m always here for you.’
Jimin deeply exhaled and closed her eyes before she could let the tears even form and with a lump in her throat she closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a kiss to suckle on the hope left in them. It was eagerness, it was to forget and not to remember. Y/n’s hands grabbed hold of Jimin’s hips, pulling her closer.
They tilted their heads to meet tongues that tasted as bitter as the beer they had and the longing for what they had lost, as sweet as the sake they downed and the reverie they lived in. It was with desperation because it felt like it was the last of them that was left and they would do everything to latch onto it and stick forever. The forever they had promised. 
Jimin ran her fingers through Y/n’s hair, pushing deeper, wanting to feel more, she needed more. She needed Y/n, she missed the touch against her body and that was all that it felt like for them now. The fulfilment of each other’s needs and nothing else as Jimin discarded Y/n’s sweater, letting it fall to the floor. Her cool hands ran over the warm skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, emotions swirling under their skin as they pulled away to remove Jimin’s top. 
Their eyes locked, looking for something, searching, but they had no clue what they were trying to find anymore. It ended quicker than expected and their lips met once again, meeting tongues and letting out desperate sounds. Y/n’s fingertips grazed over Jimin’s skin as if the girl was made of gold, the gentle and careful touch making the latter bubble with more need. She ran them over her sides, tracing every ridge, coming to her spine with one hand as the other slid over her ribs until she reached the hem of Jimin’s jeans. 
With ease she undid them and as they fell to the floor the older girl straddled Y/n who huffed at the weight that pressed down against her growing cock. As Jimin looked Y/n in the eye, the girl reached over to her face, brushing away the black strands of hair. She could still see a sparkle in Y/n’s eyes, but it was flickering. It wasn’t there for the same reasons that it used to sparkle. This was for the lust that would always linger inside their veins.
“Make me feel good, you owe me this,” Jimin mumbled, knowing that they both owed each other this for the things they had been putting the other through for the past months. This was finally their chance to make the other feel good in a way that was more than just sentimental. There was no sentiment in lust because it had never been part of it, but now it ruled them. 
She grabbed Y/n’s hand which was still by her face and captured those sweet lips while guiding the hand to the back of her bra. Jimin trailed her kisses away from Y/n’s lips and along her jawline, slowly going further and nuzzling her nose into her neck. The scent was still one of her favourites. She took it in and ran her tongue over the skin before wrapping her lips around it. 
It made Y/n stall with the bra, a faint whimper falling from between her lips as Jimin slowly started to gyrate her hips, rolling her heat against Y/n’s that was straining against her jeans. “I want your lips on me Y/n.” She breathed out against the red mark, wanting to feel the pleasure, they both wanted to be brought out of this hell they had painted as heaven. This was their chance. 
Y/n bit her lower lip, her neck being plated with kisses by Jimin all while the girl continued to press against her cock, grinding slowly while releasing shaky breaths between kisses. The girl managed to undo the bra and only then did her girlfriend pull away, letting Y/n remove it fully whose eyes focused on her chest right away. Jimin’s words hadn’t fallen deaf to her ears and all she wanted was to give the girl exactly what she wanted. This was the only thing that they could make work. 
“I love every inch of you.” Any other time the words would burn within Jimin’s soul and leave their mark and they had done so permanently, but they no longer reached as deep. They were all for the outside as they had changed from the inside towards each other. 
Her fingers tangled at the back of Y/n’s head, gently making her look her in the eye as she tilted her head. “Show me instead.” It was like a whisper, her lips ghosting Y/n’s, knowing that she would be able to feel more from actions rather than words now. 
Y/n manoeuvred them, laying Jimin down on the bed, legs wrapped around her waist as she stood by the edge of the bed. The girl bunched up the duvet beside Jimin’s head, taking one last look at her chest before she leaned down to show how much she appreciated her body. With fingers tangled in her hair and nails scratching her scalp Y/n started to leave scorching kisses along Jimin’s skin.
Her tongue soothed over the pulse, tenderly kissing down, her kisses tickling as she trailed down, taking in the soft hums and breaths that the girl let out. She came down to her collarbones, grazing her teeth over them, leaving her marks after her as those were the only good ones they managed to leave on each other now. Everything that went deeper hurt. 
A faint gasp left Jimin’s mouth when lips fervently latched onto her chest, all the heat running through her body and shooting straight to her aching clit. “Fuck,” was all that she could mutter at the warm tongue playing with her nipple, sucking on the tender flesh. Y/n’s devotion to what was left of them was shown through the way she consumed her flesh, leaving her bites to linger.
Y/n moved her mouth to the other nipple, her hand coming down to fondle the older’s chest. It was enough for more sounds to start coming from Jimin at the way her nipples were being played with and her chest littered with kisses. It made her thighs tense around Y/n’s waist, pulling her closer and when the rough material pressed against her cunt a moan fell from her lips. The younger girl hummed, pressing more against Jimin while toying with the hard nipples with her mouth and fingers, twisting and pulling, touching her in a way only she knew. 
It was yet another thing that was hard to let go of. The fact that they knew each other’s bodies so well and knew exactly what to do. It was all working against what should be done and driving them towards pipe dreams.
Her chest heaved, losing her words as they all came out breathless, being greedy for more to fill all the emptiness that had been growing for the past months. “You’re so good, baby.” She hummed, her eyes closing as her mind finally went empty, it went silent with everything else and all they could focus on was the moment and not what was and what would be. It was enough to make Y/n’s hips press more into Jimin, slowly moving them for friction while leaving the older’s chest glistening. 
She slowly started to move down further, kissing along the heaving slim stomach until she was on her knees in front of Jimin. The lacy black underwear seeped through with her arousal and Y/n’s fingers hooked at their hem, looking up at Jimin who was sitting up and looking down at her with lust-clouded eyes. She leaned back against her palms, raising her hips and letting Y/n peel off the last piece of her body.
Her hands ran over Jimin’s thighs, spreading her legs further apart while biting onto her lower lip at the view of her glistening pussy that was leaking with juices. She lifted the girl’s leg and rested it over her shoulder before she started to kiss along her inner thighs, gently biting and sucking on the soft flesh as her hands needily kneaded them. It made Jimin heave a sigh, her hand coming to grab hold of Y/n’s head, dwelling in the feeling of the butterfly kisses left along her inner thighs. 
Through her hooded eyes, she watched Y/n, making eye contact every time the younger looked up through her lashes for approval of what she was doing despite knowing Jimin’s body better than most things. Her fingers pressed into the flesh as her arm was wrapped around one of her thighs, inching closer until she reached the girl’s heat. It was enough to make the older girl squirm the slightest when she got pulled closer to the edge before feeling the wet muscle drag between her folds.
Y/n grabbed hold of her waist with her free hand, holding Jimin in place to not have her squirm too much. Her tongue ran between her folds, spreading the wetness as she dipped her head and circled the grasping hole. The grip on her hair tightened, ears being filled with soft moans and whimpers as she continued to work her tongue and lips around the puffy cunt. She sucked on her lips, enjoying the mess that was spreading on her chin, lapping every little bit up to get more on her tongue. 
Jimin slowly felt herself lose her mind at the teasing tongue, Y/n taking her time to continue working her up. The need continued to bubble inside her, her clit throbbing for attention and her hole clenching as she wanted to be filled until she would feel numb in the brain for at least a few minutes. This was finally something they could grasp at, the escape from everything even the daydream they had created, getting to a real one even if it wouldn’t last too long.
The light moans filled the hotel room when Y/n’s lips at last wrapped around her swollen clit, her tongue coming out to flick at the bud. The pace between slow and fast, sucking and flicking was making Jimin’s thighs tremble around the girl’s head. Her fingers were tangled in Y/n’s hair, pulling her closer to her pussy as her hips faintly bucked at the pleasure. 
Y/n drowned, getting as much pleasure from drowning between Jimin’s soft thighs as the girl above her was feeling from the tongue that was toying with her needy cunt. She caressed her heaving stomach with her other hand, kneading the plush flesh of her thigh as she felt Jimin pull her further into her with her leg that was on her shoulder. 
“Fuck, Y/n–” She whined, her breathing picking up and growing heavier the longer her clit was played with. She could feel it all slowly approaching her and soon enough she would reach the edge and fall off of it. 
The girl dipped her head, her nose rubbing against the swollen clit and her tongue lapped at the juices. The room filled with the sopping sounds of Jimin’s pussy and moans and Y/n’s mouth messily eating her out, moaning at the taste and tugs on her hair, her cock throbbing at how good it felt. With the sticky mess collected on her tongue, she circled her clit and went back to flicking at it and tugging with her lips. 
“So close, ‘m so close, baby.” 
Her body started to tense up, Y/n’s ears muffled at how the thighs locked around her head with her head being held in place. It made her sore tongue work harder to be able to hear Jimin’s voice go up higher. 
That was enough for the older girl to lose her control and the sounds started to spill from her mouth, moaning Y/n’s name in a high pitch. Her body got consumed by heat as her vision blacked out and her ears started to buzz when the orgasm hit its peak as Y/n continued to flick at her clit. It was making her whine and buck her hips for more until she felt herself crash back down to reality. She heaved for air, loosening her grip on Y/n’s hair and the girl slowed down, only leaving small kisses along her skin that was scorching. 
When she got back up on her feet their lips met in a vivid kiss, Jimin’s hands working on Y/n’s jeans to undo the loose material. She tugged them down together with Y/n’s boxers, her hand wrapping around the thick cock that was scalding in her hold as she pumped it, smearing the precum as she reached the swollen tip. The whimpers that fell from Y/n’s lips were swallowed by Jimin, moaning into the intense kiss. 
She pulled Y/n down, making her lay down on the bed, the younger girl moved back until she was in the middle of the bed, leaning against her elbows. Her eyes were on Jimin who got on the bed before crawling over to her. They got engulfed in each other's heat as she straddled Y/n who slumped back, running her hands over the girl’s thighs and to the back of her ass to caress it. 
“No one knows me like you do.” She whispered, leaning down and letting her lips brush over Y/n’s with her fingers tracing along her jawline. No one knew Jimin like Y/n did and no one knew Y/n like Jimin did and even if it looked the way it did, they carried that fact with pride. She pecked the girl's lips, pulling away and letting Y/n chase after her as she tried to grab hold of Jimin’s face, but got her hands pinned down to the bed. 
“Jimin–” She tried although was cut off as she let her head fall back against the mattress, fingers twisting the duvet as her wrists were held down by the girl on top of her. 
“I hate that now.” She admitted, hating that no one knew her as well as Y/n and that no one would ever get to know her as well again. They had learned from their mistakes and now no one would ever be able to compare. There was no one she would open up to like this again, not when it hurt so much when it all died. They didn’t want to go through this pain twice when they never wanted to experience it to begin with.
“I know.” Jimin huffed, her lips brushing over Y/n’s neck because obviously, the younger girl would know that Jimin hated it now. “Do you regret it?” Y/n mumbled, doing her best to not squirm under the girl who was leaving light kisses along her neck. The words from the other day still lingering, but Jimin knew that she never meant what she said about regretting it.
“No matter how much it hurts–” Jimin pulled away and looked Y/n in the eye, the younger’s head tilting to the side as she stared up at her with hopeful eyes. Y/n’s eyes alone were enough for Jimin to know the answer, she knew it right away as she reached her hand down to Y/n’s face, one still holding her wrists down. Her thumb tenderly caressed along Y/n’s cheek and over her lips. “I could never regret everything I’ve given you.” And everything she gave was all that she had after she placed herself in Y/n’s hands and she would always be there even if what made her give herself in the first place had withered. 
Her thumb tugged down on Y/n’s lip before she leaned down and attached their lips once again. Sighs fell from between their lips, Jimin’s hand running between their bodies to grab hold of Y/n’s cock. 
Y/n pulled away from the kiss, panting for air as her eyes fell between their bodies, watching Jimin drag the swollen tip through her folds, the slickness and warmth were enough to make Y/n bite back a whine at how good it felt. The grip on her wrists tightened when her tip made contact with Jimin’s clenching hole, slowly pushing into the tightness that sucked her in. 
“So tight.” The younger mumbled, her chest heaving at the anticipation as she watched herself slowly disappear inside of the girl on top of her, splitting her folds with her cock. The tight walls engulfed her length, grasping it and sucking her inside with greed as they continuously clenched at the stretch. 
“You make me feel so full.” Jimin sighed with a whine at the slight pain. 
Y/n’s eyes stayed glued on how her cock got engulfed by Jimin’s tight pussy, splitting her lips around the thick shaft and she slowly moved. The older girl hummed, letting go of Y/n’s wrists. Both her palms rested on top of the girl’s stomach with her nails slightly digging in at the painful stretch. Hands caressed her thighs while she lowered herself until she felt Y/n deep inside her, filling her to the hilt. 
Y/n dropped her head, shutting her eyes tightly when she was fully inside Jimin who let out a light moan at the feeling. Her cock was throbbing, twitching at how good it felt, the warm and wet walls were pulsating around her and her stomach flexed with every little move. 
She slowly started moving her hips back and forth, her clit still sensitive from her first orgasm as it dragged along Y/n’s pelvis. Her walls fluttered, and being filled up was making her crave more at how good it felt. The feeling of Y/n’s veiny cock raw inside her tight cunt was overwhelmingly good, making out each vein that dragged along her walls.
She gyrated them as they whined back and forth on Y/n’s dick whose lips were parted at the way it dragged along the clenching walls. Her ears were graced by Jimin’s soft gasps and sighs, nails digging into her stomach. The older’s thighs flexed, her walls pulsating and clit throbbing as she slowly increased her speed, chasing her pleasure by using Y/n. 
“I love using your cock to make myself feel good,” Jimin whined, her head getting thrown back and Y/n groaned at the words that made her dick ache inside the hot and wet cunt of the girl. Their bodies moved and fit together perfectly like waves that collided against waves, their bodies buzzing with that feeling from the inside as their head splashed with desires. 
Her chest heaved at the sight of her girlfriend grinding along her cock, watching how she chased her high once again. The sounds were starting to get more lewd with each moan falling from the girl’s lips, Jimin’s wetness coating Y/n’s base and the mess only got bigger.
“You look so good doing it.” Y/n could feel the way the walls clasped around her at the words, the girl taking all the pleasure in using Y/n for her benefit as Y/n enjoyed it just as much. The way the girl would go on and have her orgasms before Y/n even got to think of hers.
Jimin was on top of her with a vice grip on her cock with her sopping cunt. Y/n’s hands were on her the thighs flexed with each movement and her tip was hitting all the right spots deep inside her. She watched the way the older gasped and threw her head back, dragging her swollen clit along Y/n’s pelvis. Jimin reached behind her and held onto Y/n’s tense thighs instead, rolling her hips in a way that was making her stomach tighten and warm up as she fucked herself on top of the girl.
“I’m so close, baby–fuck, so good.” Her voice cut into a higher pitch as the orgasm started to wash over her with her hips bucking for more and Y/n’s thumb found its way to her swollen clit. She circled the bud as Jimin kept bucking her hips against her, watching the way her chest bounced with each movement.
The throbbing walls clasped around her cock, squeezing it tightly enough for the movement to slow down. Her thighs quivered and she let out cries of pleasure, her voice light and bringing Y/n closer to the edge at how good she looked on top of her. Nails dug into Y/n’s thighs, heat pouring over Jimin’s whole body at her second orgasm.
She heaved for breath, stopping her movement and shivering at the shocks going through her warm body. Her body got engulfed in Y/n’s arms when the girl sat up, her cock still buried deep within the confines of Jimin’s pulsating pussy. She wrapped her arms around Y/n’s shoulders, palms running over her back which was covered in a sheen of sweat. 
As Jimin looked at Y/n, she didn’t want to be done yet, she wished she could drag this out for the rest of her life. To make this serene moment last forever as their bodies became one and all that had been on her mind disappeared. Those worries were gone, it was just now, the present forgotten and the future didn’t exist until it was tomorrow and by then it was present again. 
She tangled her fingers at the back of Y/n’s hair, slowly moving up and down while pulling Y/n more into her. Their breaths mingled, parted lips grazing until she caught Y/n’s lower lip between hers and gently tugged. It was all that they needed, to be back in each other’s arms, to be close and it started to ignite the spark of hope although it didn’t seem to glow strong enough as it continued to flicker back to life before disappearing. 
“I miss you–so much,” Jimin mumbled as she pulled away, moving her hips back and forth as Y/n’s breaths grew heavier. The younger buried her face in the crook of her neck, planting tender kisses. Jimin could feel it all coming back, maybe she hadn’t been drunk enough, or maybe no matter how drunk she was on lust and alcohol she would never be able to drown out the pain of a breaking heart. 
The alcohol and lust weren’t able to mend their hearts. 
Y/n looked up when Jimin pulled her away from her sweltering neck, their eyes met, Jimin’s were glimmering and the entry to her soul had always been open for Y/n. The longer she stared into the window of her soul, the more she realised how crushed Jimin was and it was enough to clarify that they were both suffering. Her hand smoothed over Y/n’s jaw, running along it as she tilted the girl’s head back, her movement not stopping as she watched Y/n slowly crumble under her.
It was shattering her insides to see Y/n this way, the same way it was shattering Y/n to see Jimin like that. They had never thought that the person they loved the most would be the one to destroy them the most too. 
Love was lethal no matter how much two people loved each other.
“Fuck–” Y/n breathed out, being cut off by Jimin’s soft lips, the girl could feel the length inside her grow harder and twitch as it was clasped inside her heat. They swallowed each other’s moans until they no longer could and the older’s pace picked up, her ass colliding with Y/n’s thighs each time she went down while letting out quick and sharp breaths. Y/n’s hands gripped onto her ass, fingers digging into the soft yet firm flesh as she helped Jimin move, feeling the movement slack off at times. 
A soft and light moan escaped Jimin’s lips, grounding herself down on Y/n’s cock, arms wrapped around her shoulders as she panted against her neck. Teeth dug into her shoulder, the whimper suppressed from the younger as she could feel the ropes of cum shoot one after another into her, painting her walls white. Y/n pulled away from her shoulder, slipping out of Jimin’s warmth as they eased down to reality.
Everything stilled as the younger girl still held Jimin in her arms, caressing her warm back while taking deep breaths. It felt like neither of them planned to move any second as the girl snuggled closer into Y/n’s neck, burying her face in the crook of it, her eyes shutting tightly.
It was making Jimin’s chest heave at the panic she felt because she could only watch it all slip through her fingers, unable to do anything to save it.
The attempt to suppress her sobs was feeble as the first one slipped through and then a second followed and her tears were staining Y/n’s skin once again. “Jimin–” 
“I’m scared, Y/n.” She cried into her neck, sobbing and snivelling as it overwhelmed her once again, this time she wasn’t able to hold back on releasing what was heavily on her chest. It didn’t matter how scared they were to bring up the obvious because the thought of how it would end was terrifying. Neither wanted it to end. However, the realisation dawned upon them and it would all end much sooner than intended if they did nothing about it. 
“I’m right here.” Y/n slowly pulled her away, manoeuvring Jimin’s body like fragile butterfly wings that could crumble with a little too much pressure. The girl continued to cry, pulling her knees to her chest, crying into them as Y/n draped the duvet over her, covering her naked body. 
She couldn’t grasp at it, at how all the promises died the second their love did, that they made promises they couldn’t keep and it never should have been this way. They promised to love each other forever and they did, but it no longer was the love that was beyond care and compassion. It was adoration and not love, the love; was gone. 
Jimin refused to accept it, no, she couldn’t accept that and would dig through every little corner until she found something that would help the withered flower bloom back to life. She’d shed all her tears until her eyes would be bleeding just to have enough to water their flower of love that had died. There had to be some way to save it even if it hurt, even if it hurt more than it already did.
Y/n got back onto the bed after she pulled on her boxers, Jimin was still crying into her knees until the younger girl sat behind her, the duvet resting over the both of them. She held back on her tears as she cradled the weeping girl’s head, lending her shoulder to cry on once again and she would continue doing so until her last breath. It would never matter what type of love they held for each other, she would always care even if everything else they used to have that was deeper had died. 
It was a death neither of them knew how to cope with.
“I’m here for you.” She reassured her, kissing the top of her head.
“I hate this, Y/n—” Her sobs cut through her words, her hands gripping the duvet before they let go, feeling hopeless; what was there to hold on to in reality? There was nothing to hold onto as they both freely fell through hell for each other. It made them weak in so many ways. “Nothing is the same anymore and I don’t know what to do.” Acceptance was hard for anyone, it had always been hard, but it was even harder when it came to something they made their whole lives revolve around. How could they just accept that their worlds no longer circled the other? 
It stung, it hurt deeply to think that this was possible, something they had never thought about had become their reality. The flower that bloomed with their love was dead. Yet these tears and the pain they felt at the thought of needing to let go made them want to try again. One last try to revive something that had been dead and cold for months. If some miracle happened, they would be able to bring it back to life. Their love would bloom from a dead flower at some point, they would continue watering it with their tears, crying over the dead flower that was their love in hopes of it coming back to life.
“We can make it work again.” Y/n wasn’t brave enough to say the words, she wasn’t strong enough to say them for Jimin and herself. To admit for the both of them that what was lost was lost and that it was time to say goodbye and bury their love because there was nothing to save once it was already gone.It was too difficult to bury it when they had yet to accept its death. They had no clue how to cope with everything.
It was eating at them, tearing them apart and glueing them back together into an even bigger mess.
“We can fix everything,” Y/n reassured, knowing that these could as well be empty words and new promises to break, but she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up on Jimin even if they were mistaking care and compassion for a small ember of love that they could turn into a fire. That fire had gone out a while ago and what was left were ashes.
“Do you think that’s possible?” She whimpered, wanting to do anything to try and grasp at that false little ember of hope.
“I don’t know,” Y/n whispered, just as uncertain, but she would do anything for Jimin even if it meant ruining herself. 
They couldn’t know, but at least it was reassurance that they didn’t have to let go yet and could continue no matter how much it hurt because it would hurt even more if they were apart. It was too difficult to let go of someone they had built their lives around. They would hurt for each other and they would choose that over happiness with someone else because no one would ever be able to give them what they used to have.
They longed for each other’s love. They missed it and just wanted to feel it again but it was all gone. It no longer felt like it used to and they missed those feelings they used to have. Where did they go wrong for it to happen in the first place? What were they supposed to do to fix it? Let go and move on. Stay and continue to drag through the impossible to try and fix it?
They weren’t in love anymore, they just loved each other.
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stanlees-stuff · 8 months
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"Cc we're sorry, just .... please don't be scared, I promise we won't hurt you..."
based on @kix-mm's story here
DAMM, I never knew I needed gt throuples in my life till now!! decided to draw one of the scenes in the story. AAAH THE STORY WAS SO GOOD!! The amount of love they have for each other is just so fricking sweet!! and how much you can tell A and B cherish C and want them in their lives
anyways kix is a really good writer, bye >:]
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afraidparade · 9 months
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comfort
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imagine-darksiders · 1 year
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So, what do you think of this? Bowser sees Y/N in an extreme state of danger, like, I dunno, trying to be taken against her will by an arranged Prince suitor or something, and the state of her distress/fear get's him so mad he transforms into Giga Bowser.
Well, first of all, I have done nothing BUT think of this for the past week! Thanks so much for the inspiration! Here's a little drabble <3
TW: Physical abuse, Kidnapping, Captive Reader, Implied arranged marriage, Giga Bowser is kinda scary? Mentions of being eaten etc
----
Bowser's thunderous footsteps come grinding to a halt of their own accord, stilling the colossal Koopa in his tracks at the opposite end of the docks, his eyes bulging open at the sight that looms out of the mist to greet him.
He's found you, his little runaway, for which he's rendered breathless with palpable relief.
But to his mounting dismay, there's another human with you.
A stranger...
A man.
And not only is this man encroaching well into your personal space, but his hands have captured your wrists as well, keeping you anchored in place with his chest shoved firmly against yours.
The pair of you are so wrapped up in the presence of the other, that neither one of you notices the King lurking nearby.
For a single beat, Bowser almost can't tear his wild-eyed stare away from the fingertips squeezing into your supple skin.
But then, he hears your voice, laden with thick and palpable alarm that's badly disguised by the composure you're attempting to maintain.
“Falkner, please,” you're shakily telling the other human, “Whatever agreement you may have had with my father is null and void now that he's dead!”
“Bullshit!” the stranger is quick to contend, giving you a rough jostle that throws fuel on the fire already raging in Bowser's gut, “Your old man promised you to me! I didn't sail halfway around the world just to be told no!”
Neither of you register the Koopa, not even when he lowers his horned head and takes a heavy, dangerous step towards you, his hackles starting to rise just like his gorge.
Just who the Hell does this idiot think he is to speak to you so crassly?!
Another step sends the pebbles near his feet skittering across the ground.
Your jaw is set, but you continue to tug at your ensnared wrists as you retort, “Promises made in a drunken stupor are hardly binding agreements!”
The man's face is swiftly changing from sallow and pallid to a vivid crimson and he parts his lips to shout, “You are mine by rights! You're coming with me!”
“Let me GO!” At last, perhaps inevitably, your voice cracks.
Bowser's jaw aches with how tightly his fangs are wedged together.
He can feel a fireball trying to crawl its way up his throat, leaving a sting that burns like venom along the walls of his trachea, but he gulps it down. No matter how great and terrible his rage might grow, he'd be remiss to let an attack loose with you so close to the firing line.
But there's something else building in his chest. Something swollen and ugly that rumbles like a slumbering giant just underneath his scales when he sees the moisture glistening on your dainty eyelashes.
Bowser hasn't ever seen you cry. Not even when he informed you that you'd be a permanent guest at his castle. Not even when it dawned on you that you could never go back to your old home across the seas. Not even when you fell from your window during an escape attempt and sprained your ankle, and the pain was great enough that you actually clung to him as he lifted you gently into his arms, your lips stuffed together to refrain from whimpering.
So to see you this close to tears now instills an outrage in him that differs from his usual temper. This is tumultuous. Primal, even.
He wants you to notice him now, to glance over and see that he's here for you, that you'll be all right because Bowser would never let anything bad happen to you.
Heart aflame, his pace quickens to a lurching gallop.
With a wrench, you manage to free one of your hands from Falkner's grip and use it to pry his fingers from your remaining wrist. “I said, GET! OFF!”
The anger in Bowser's chest dims only slightly to make room for a burst of pride.
But that momentary delight is stamped out as swiftly as it comes.
In an awful, jarring instant, the man - evidently fed up with your continued resistance – reels his hand back into the air behind his head, fingers pressed together, open-palmed...
Bowser can see the disaster unfurling right in front of him, but his shame is in knowing that he was too slow to stop it from happening.
The hand hurtles forwards...
A harrowing 'CRACK' ruptures the air as calloused skin meets the vulnerable flesh of your cheek.
Your head is flung sideways and you cry out, eyes wide with shock, and it's only then that your startled gaze land upon your audience. Cheek humming, the tears finally spill over the walls of your eyelids, tumbling in ceaseless rivulets down your face.
You choke on a wet sob, unable to drag your gaze away from the Koopa.
You can't summon the will to be pleased for his interference, if anything, you're ashamed to have been caught by your captor in a moment of such vulnerability.
Perhaps it's the tears distorting your vision, or perhaps the slap had knocked something loose in your brain, but through blurred vision, you think you can see a change come over Bowser, and if you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear that he was growing.
A hiss from your side catches your attention, but you don't turn to look at Falkner, though you can see him flapping his hand about to rid it of the lingering sting. “Damn,” he sucks a breath through his teeth, “Now look what you made me do... If you hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't've had to do-” He finally notices the ground trembling beneath his leather boots. "-that...?"
Whatever had been hiding under the surface of Bowser's scales is howling out with rage, stirred from its slumber by the vicious and unprovoked attack on his friend.
Muscles ripple and bulge as they expand, bones snap, twisting out of shape. The Koopa King's gums burn as his fangs grow longer, sharper, squeaking against one another whilst his rapidly changing jaw struggles to keep up with their rate of growth.
It's agony, this transformation, but it can't be helped.
His friend has been struck. Hurt. And everything in him, every last instinct and sinew and atom, is bellowing out at him that he needs to protect you.
He would swallow this agony over and over again if it keeps you from experiencing pain.
He may be monstrous in size and temperament, but he isn't a monster.
He can't be...
Anger feeds into his expanding body, giving itself more space to spread like a wildfire, or perhaps more like a wave of churning acid that washes through his veins and takes the place of his blood.
It must... Because his body feels as if it's corroding.
“What the HELL is that?!”
Falkner's shriek adequately echoes your own inner monologue.
And you thought Bowser was terrifying before.
The tyrant must be absolutely livid with you for managing to escape from your room. If only you hadn't run into Sir Falkner on the docks. You went looking for a rescue party, but the man who did come to 'rescue' you might be even worse than King Bowser. At least Bowser, for all his uninvited clinginess, had never raised a hand against you.
Now though, locked in his blood-red stare, you start to wonder if you've pushed your luck just a step too far.
Pounding footsteps take off behind you, slapping against the cobblestone as Falkner simply turns tail and runs, leaving you frozen in place with your limbs as rigid as petrified wood, like your body knows instinctively that to turn your back and run from something with teeth that sharp is a very bad idea.
Inevitably, Bowser's head shoots up almost the moment Falkner starts to flee, and you're helpless but to watch on in horror as a gigantic paw surges over your head and snatches your would-be suitor right off the ground, hoisting the man up into the air.
Falker's resulting scream chills you down to the marrow in your bones, so wracked with terror and urgency that it sets your teeth on edge.
The oversized Koopa draws the thrashing human up to his maw and peels back his thick, rubbery lips, giving Falkner an uninterrupted view of his fate.
A constant growl spills between gleaming fangs, each one about the length of your own forearm, and the sound itself is loud enough that it could be mistaken for an unending grumble of far-off thunder, easily drowning out the man's screams.
It's gruesome to see. Your imagination runs wild with awful possibilities that you pray don't come to pass. Trembling in your boots, you lower your gaze to stare unblinkingly at the ground instead whilst short, sharp breaths fall out of your lungs, coming fast enough to leave you feeling light-headed.
Slowly, carefully, you take a single step back.
This might be your only chance to escape.
But then, like a damning acknowledgement of your cowardice, Falkner screams your name.
“Y/N!” he screeches, his back arched against the pain of being crushed in Bowser's grip, “HELP ME! PLEASE!”
'...You don't have to help him,' logic whispers into your ear, set on self-preservation, 'Nobody but his mother would miss him. He's a bad person, and you're not a hero.'
No. You're not a hero. And it certainly wouldn't be heroic to save a man like Falkner, who does more harm than good most days.
Bowser's immense jaws part in reaction to the human's screams, and his growl explodes into a deafening roar that blasts the man's hair back and forces him to pinch his eyes firmly shut.
Similarly, you raise your hands and slap them over your ears, teeth grit until the sound starts to fade. You can only imagine what the volume had done to Falkner's eardrums.
Even through the cushioning of your palms, you still hear him crying out once more, “DO SOMETHING!”
… Your head twists slowly towards a little wooden boat that bobs invitingly on the nearby docks. You're strong enough to work the oars, you could very easily jump into it, raise the little, white sail and let the wind carry you far out to sea, away from this place.
Away from Bowser.
This could be your only shot of escaping imprisonment and going home.
“I beg of you!”
… You could...
“Y/N!”
… Oh, damn it all.
Your eyes snap back up to Falkner and you immediately start to feel the burning of your cheek, as if to remind you of what he did.
But already, your scruples are disintegrating. A direct cry for help is a tough thing to ignore, after all.
On shaking knees, you reclaim the step you'd made in retreat and instead move towards Bowser, tipping your head back and peeling your tongue from the roof of your bone-dry mouth. “B-!” You falter on the first syllable and have to swallow roughly before trying again. “Bowser!”
Almost as soon as it had begun, the thunderous roar falls silent, echoing off in the distance until it's lost over the crashing waves.
Falkner continues to gasp and whimper inside the colossal fist, but those haunting, blood-red eyes turn gradually in your direction, pinning you once again in their subtle glow.
Your legs threaten to buckle as you realise he's now focusing solely on you.
You've no idea if he can be reasoned with in this state, but you know you can't do much else but try. “Release him, Bowser!” you yelp without an ounce of any real authority, “I'm the one who ran from you! Not him! Put him down!”
The docks are still and disarmingly placid for a time, disturbed only by the sounds of Falkner struggling to free himself, and the breaths that enter and leave a set of gargantuan lungs.
The hulking Koopa continues to glower down at you, his nostrils flared wide to reveal a red-hot glow from within, like a burning core.
Just as you begin to fear that your plea will go unheeded, Bowser hisses through his fangs, and then, without much ceremony, he simply opens his fist and Falkner goes tumbling out of it, landing awkwardly on his ankle and eliciting a yelp of pain. Still, he wastes no time in whirling over onto his backside and kicking madly to push himself out from under the behemoth's shadow.
You follow his retreat from the corner of an eye, but you don't break Bowser's stare.
You daren't, even as he takes a lumbering step in your direction. The ground underneath your shudders with the impact, as though the island itself is afraid of his wrath.
Another step covers much of the distance between you, and the realisation that he's coming your way snaps you out of your trance. You've given Falkner a chance to escape. Now, you'll be taking yours.
Skirts flying, you whip yourself about and take off in a dead sprint. Behind you, the air quivers as Bowser releases an urgent chuff, the heat from his breath washing disconcertingly over the back of your neck and spurring you to kick up your heels.
However, you barely make it ten paces before a colossal palm suddenly descends from the sky and crashes into the ground just ahead of you. You let out a yelp and hit the brakes, but you've already come too close to his hand, and so, like a venus fly trap closes around a hapless insect, Bowser's fingers spring to action, sweeping you up off your feet and pinning you against the soft, warm leather of his palm.
“No, no, no!” you bleat, scrabbling desperately at thick scales as the ground falls away below you and you find yourself lifted up to Bowser's big, yellow muzzle.
All you can do is wait for the crunch. For the pain. To hear your bones grind together when he eventually clenches his fist.
You're ashamed to cry in front of him, but you're too afraid to stop. Nausea churns your stomach and you screw up your face in anticipation, eyes clamped tightly closed.
The agony of waiting is almost too much for you to bear.
You're too wrapped up in your fear to notice that Bowser has yet to even slightly tighten his grasp. If anything, his hold is shockingly gentle. The pad of an immense thumb is pressed against your belly, exerting just enough pressure to keep you safely tucked in the hollow of his palm.
Several, unbearable seconds tick by whilst you quiver and breathe as though you've just run a mile.
You nearly lose your composure, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from demanding that he just get your punishment over with.
And then, you feel it.
A gentle pressure, so light that you'd think a butterfly must have landed on your neck, but when your eyes burst open and you catch sight of a monolithic finger all but filling your field of view, you realise what a fool you were to close your eyes at all.
Bowser, it seems, has raised his unoccupied hand towards you, and the very tip of a single claw has come to rest in the hollow of your throat. You can feel it's ghosting presence as you swallow thickly and your larynx presses a little more solidly against it for all of a second.
You're too stunned to make a move.
With a gentleness that doesn't at all befit his size, Bowser slowly lifts his claw, and in doing so, your head is pushed up, then turned slightly to one side, exposing your cheek.
The cheek that had been viciously struck.
Why is he...?
Pinned under the weight of his scrutiny, you fall utterly motionless, your mouth stuck open as if you're emitting a silent scream.
A lonely tear escapes the confines of your lashes and trickles down to your chin when it dangles precariously for a before it falls, plopping down onto Bowser's fingertip.
The behemoth's muzzle shifts close, and those dark and dangerous eyes narrow to thin slits as he inspects your cheek. You'd almost entirely forgotten about the throbbing ache lancing across your face, and even now, adrenaline is doing wonders at keeping most of the discomfort at bay.
All of a sudden, Bowser's pupils shrink and a thrum of aggression starts up in his chest like the engine of some ancient and powerful machine. Drawing his head away from you, he twists it over his bulging shoulder and aims a vicious snarl in the direction that Falkner had fled.
You can't help but flinch when his fingers twitch around you, but he must have noticed the movement, because not a second later, the growl is cut off and he swings his nose around to peer down at you again, his slitted pupils expanding like ink in water once they land on you.
Your pulse is jackhammering against your skin. Nothing about this is adding up. He seems more agitated about Falkner than about you. But... you're the escaped prisoner...
You don't have much time to ponder over his strange behaviour though. Just as carefully as it had appeared, the Koopa's forefinger slides gradually from beneath your chin and you can finally gulp down a greedy breath of air, realising belatedly that you'd stopped breathing the moment he touched you.
All around you, the behemoth starts to move, pulling you close and tucking you against his chest as he takes step after impossibly lengthy step, turning his immense bulk about to head back across the island to your gloomy, familiar prison.
--------------
You used to wonder if it was simply Bowser's ostentatious taste in décor that made him choose such grand, wide doorways to separate the rooms of his castle. Now however, as the gargantuan Koopa squeezes himself through the entrance to your given chambers, his shell scraping noisily against the wooden doorframes, you realise the design might lend more to practicality than aesthetic, especially if this... transformation happens on a regular basis around here.
God, you hope not...
You've remained stiff as a board in Bowser's unwavering grasp all the way back, fearful of provoking a violent reaction out of him like you had when you tried to struggle out of Falkner's grip.
Shoulders sagging as he releases a massive sigh, the Koopa trundles to a stop at the foot of your bed and at long, long last, he peels you away from his chest. Your ears ring after so much time spent having to listen to a mighty heart thudding rhythmically right next to your head.
Again, with a care that you certainly never would have expected him to possess, Bowser cups you in his palms and lowers you onto the plush sheets, sliding his hands out from underneath you as if he's placing down a fragile, porcelain doll.
As soon as you're out of his grasp, he deflates, heaving a billowing breath and all but dropping onto all fours in front of you. Alarmed, you scramble backwards until your spine hits the bed's headboard, blurting out a yelp when Bowser's chin drops down to thwack on the sheets in front of you. The weight of his skull alone causes the bed to buckle and groan in protest, but to your astonishment, it somehow manages to support him as he gets himself settled, peering down the length of his snout and ensnaring you in that ruby-red gaze once more.
Your fingers flex into the sheets around you, bunching them up and wrinkling the fine cotton.
'Now what's he doing?'
His eyes are glued to your cheek again, his intense stare broken by the occasional, languid blink.
You're not expecting it when he suddenly moves.
He only extends his neck a little to bring his head closer to you, but he's so massive, the motion it far more jarring from your perspective. With a shriek, you slam your eyes shut and instinctively throw up your hands, pressing them hard against the soft muzzle, as if they alone are enough to keep him from advancing on you any further. To your immense shock however, the moment your fingers meet the warm surface of his nose, Bowser falls still.
You risk prying open an eyelid to peep up at him.
Judging by the impossibly wide smile that now stretches across his face, he's apparently delighted by this new development.
This is the first time you've touched his face.
Your palm is almost lost to a vast expanse of yellow skin, sitting right on the ridge of his nose between his flaring nostrils.
The Koopa's own gaze is heavy-lidded, each pupil angled to keep you within his sights whilst a pleased hum travels through his throat and causes the bed to quake underneath you.
His fangs remain safely tucked behind his lips, and as the seconds tick by without your hand getting snapped off, the tension in your fingers gradually begins to dissipate.
With your heartbeat receding as well, you allow yourself to lightly stroke just the tips of your fingers down his snout until they pause on the cusp of his upper lip, drawing a reverent shudder from the almighty juggernaut.
Pressing your teeth together, you inhale slowly through your nose, and murmur, “...Bowser?”
It's as if you've just broken him from some kind of trance.
The King's face suddenly twists up and he emits a throaty groan, like he's in pain.
Quick as a flash, you tear your hand from his muzzle and press yourself back as far away as you can when he peels his chin from the bed and brings both of his gargantuan paws up to clutch at his head, staggering to his feet.
“Bowser!” you cry again, this time in alarm, “What's happening!?”
A disconcerting notion occurs to you - that he could be on the verge of going bezerk - and you hurriedly throw back the covers with a view to scramble off the bed and make a break for the doors. But as soon as you move, the Koopa's eyes spring open again and zero in on you, trapping you in a stare so full of frantic desperation that you stop at once, though more from confusion than fear.
And so, you're left to do nothing but watch as the jagged behemoth undergoes another, painful transformation.
The heavy shell on his back grows smaller, losing the serrated quality of its spikes. His tail shortens, his jutting fangs soften around their edges. The sweeping horns on his head recede back inside his rapidly shrinking skull until only their tips remain poking out from between his mess of a mane.
You almost choke on a gushing sigh of relief when at last, the King is back to his regular, brutish self, knelt on the ground at the foot of your bed - though it strikes you quite abruptly that you shouldn't be feeling reassured by Bowser's presence, no matter which form he takes.
Despite your misgivings, you still find yourself croaking out, “A-are you okay?”
Arduously, he braces a palm on the end of the bed and uses it to push himself up onto his feet again, eventually dragging his eyes over to you. He gives you a brief, searching glance, focusing for an uncomfortable minute on your face, then, without a word, the Koopa spins around and staggers purposefully towards the adjoining bathroom, disappearing through the door.
Plagued by uncertainty, you allow your fists to tentatively unclench around the bedsheets, lowering them into your lap as the squeak of a tap filters out from beyond the ensuite door, followed by the unmistakable rush of running water.
Another squeak... and a few moments later, the Koopa comes stomping back into the room, this time with a wet flannel clutched inside his meaty paw.
“You should've let me pulverise 'im,” he grumbles, stalking around the bed until he comes to the side you're sitting on.
Gobsmacked, you let your mouth fall open, close it, then open it once more to ask, “I... I beg your pardon?”
“That GUY!” he snaps, “You shouldn't'a stopped me. He deserved the worst!”
You blink stupidly, lifting your eyebrows in tandem until they sit high on your forehead. “I'm sorry.. Are we... not going to talk about what just happened to you!?”
“What's there to talk about?” he grunts, flicking his tail up onto the bed before sinking his hefty backside down after it, fidgeting with the sodden flannel between his claws, “You got hurt. I got mad.”
“You got mad!?” Scoffing at the absurd understatement, you continue, “Bowser - you turned into a gigantic, terrifying monster who looked like he was three seconds away from chewing me up and spitting me back out! All because somebody slapped me!?”
You expect an uproarious retort, which would definitely be in keeping with your usual repartee with him, so it comes as a shock when Bowser glares heatedly at you for a few moments, then merely turns his nose away from you, hiding his expression.
It's... notably uncharacteristic of the hot-tempered Koopa. So much so that it prompts you to tilt your head and call, “Bowser?”
You can't see his face beyond the shell that covers his back, but motion on the covers draws your gaze down to see his tail. Slowly, the appendage curls inwards, tucking itself up against his thigh. Dejected.
“You didn't deserve what he did...”
You look up at Bowser again, blinking owlishly to find his arm reaching back towards you, though the King keeps his face stubbornly pointed in the opposite direction. The little, white flannel is draped across his proffered palm.
Keeping a dubious eye on the Koopa, you hesitantly stretch your hand out to his, pinching the fabric between your thumb and forefinger and pausing for a second to marvel over how cold it is. Drawing it into your grasp, you waste no time in bringing it up to your face and gently pressing the cool material against your cheek, unable to keep back the tiny smile that grows on your face with that slight modicum of relief.
You recognise his gesture is meant to be a peace offering, and you are grateful for the flannel... But you're also still bitter.
“So,” you hum pensively, eyeing his robust arm as it drops down to rest on the bed beside him, “I didn't deserve that. But I do deserve to be locked up and held prisoner in your castle?”
“I keep you safe.” His head twitches in your direction with a cursory show of teeth that are hardly very frightening anymore, not now that you've seen what they can become, “I keep you fed and warm and happy. I'd never hurt you.”
“No. You keep me fed and warm, and that's it,” you tell him sharply, “I don't feel safe here. And I am far from happy.”
You're more than aware that you're antagonising him, but you think you're damn well within your rights to do so. It isn't enough that he keeps you locked up in this castle and forbids you your freedom, but now he expects you to act as if you're happy about it too?
Another, disgruntled noise leaves him as he lurches off the bed, landing on his feet with a thud.
"Where are you going?" you demand.
"I'm-!" Bowser heaves a sigh, running a clawed hand through his thick, fiery mane. “I'm goin' to get you a proper ice-pack...” Trailing off, the King tromps heavily across your room, making his agitation known with every, deliberate step until he reaches the door.
Your teeth tug at a piece of loose skin on your lower lip. “... Bowser.”
He pauses, his hulking frame suddenly looking so small and vulnerable in the gargantuan doorway, with one of his hands sitting poised upon the handle.
Even from the bed, you can see the flash of his crimson iris swivelling in your direction.
You try to regard him passively, but the ice in your gaze is starting to melt fraction by fraction, and you don't know whether he can see it or not. “... Thanks,” you call gently anyway, lifting your shoulder into a shrug, “For... you know, for scaring Falkner off.”
You watch his eyelid widen, as if he's surprised to hear a word of thanks, from you of all people.
There's even the minutest quiver in his lip as it tries to tug itself up into the ghost of a smile. But then, he gives his head a rough shake, and the smile is gone.
“Just protectin' what's mine,” he rumbles, pushing the door open and slipping through the gap. The door closes again a second later, and your ears catch the sound of a heavy key sliding into the lock and turning, sending the tumblers clunking home.
… What's his...
Right.
A hollow space expands between your ribs, the familiar hole that disappointment often leaves behind.
Drawing your knees up against your chest, you wrap an arm around yourself for comfort, keeping the flannel pressed to your cheek as you wait for him to return with that ice pack.
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graceful-not · 5 months
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*grabs you* if the members of the found family aren't at least a little bit fucked up about each other what's even the point man. if the lines aren't even a little bit blurred when it comes to roles what's the point. buddy. pal. what's even the point of having a found family and then imposing strict nuclear family roles unto them, or never allowing the roles they do have to be bent or broken. what's even the point if one character (assuming they're the same age) is ALWAYS being taken care of by the other without it being related to one of their arcs. what's even the point if the found family doesn't take care of each other. what's even the point if they're normal about having people they are so so close to so as to trust with nearly everything and stick with and sweat bleed and die for. what's even the point if the roles arent flexible and based on a foundation of trust over any kind of imposed relationship, and the dynamics shift for what is needed in the situation. what's even the point if they're not a little bit in love about it. they need to LOVE EACH OTHER. what's the point if they are being kept at a distance the same to that of an acquaintance and it's not part of their greater arc or bc of their character. let them sleep together. let them cuddle. let them kiss (not necessarily romantically!!! on the forehead or the hand or a little peck on the top of a head). I'm so sick of sanitized found families I need them to care about each other so much it hurts they need to think about the others way too much do you get it. I don't want it to be a replacement for a real family I want them to Frankenstein together a new creation it needs to be elevated it needs to be bleeding and raw it needs to be REAL I want it to be ALIVE. WHY are your found family dynamics so fucking DEAD!!!! STOP SHOVELLING ROTTING MEET INTO MY MOUTH I CAN TELL ITS DEAD I CAN FUCKING TELL WHEN ITS DIVIDED SO CLEARLY BY CARETAKER/WHUMPEE WHY IS IT SO ONE-WAY THE FAMILY TAKES CARE OF EACH OTHER THEY DONT NEED TO BE JUST ONE ROLE. A PERSON CAN BE A FATHER A MOTHER A MENTOR A TEACHER. A BROTHER AND FRIEND IN SOLIDARITY OR EVEN A LOVER IF IT IS NEEDED. DO YOU GET IT. DO YOU GET IT.
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tinyclownhours · 2 months
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Human Hermit Crabs
I turned the silly little prompt I sent to @so-very-small into a full fic. Enjoy :)
Summary: Human gets abducted by giant aliens and sold as a novelty pet in an intergalactic souvenir shop, only to be rescued by a rugged space explorer.
Word Count: 5781
Cw: Abduction, dehumanisation (it's nothing too bad, but the MC is seen as a pet/object by the other aliens), mentions of death and humans being sold as pets/objects.
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An apex predator. That is what Henry had lived his entire life believing he was. Everyone knew humans were on top of the food chain. Even in situations where they were wildly outmatched in pure strength, it was their intelligence that kept them on top. The only one who could realistically hurt him was his own kind, he had thought. As long as he kept his head down, he could get by without trouble. Oh, how foolish he had been…
He was curled up at the far end of the glass cage, leaning against the cold wall as he breathed in a shallow manner. He was cold, and he was shivering ever so slightly. Every now and again a giant figure would glide past the outside of his cage, browsing all of the curiosities the shop had to offer, him included…
He thought back to that day, the 15th of October. The day when his perception of reality had been utterly shattered. It was a crisp autumn evening and Henry had been strolling around on a walk out by the countryside where he lived. There was rarely anyone out where he walked. Maybe that’s why they chose him…
He still remembered the feeling of being sucked up into the air, the feeling of his stomach dropping while he looked down at the ground becoming smaller and smaller below him until he was swallowed up by the sky. Or at least he thought. The pure terror and panic were still fresh in his mind, as he looked around the gigantic spaceship that he’d been beamed up into. He had seen the giant alien smirk down at him, roughly grabbing his body in his callus fist while he inspected him. Henry felt his stomach turn as he thought back to how the giant poacher had looked over him after putting a metal collar around his throat, calling him a “beautiful specimen” before carrying him off and throwing him into a crowded cage full of other humans, all of them equally confused and terrified. 
He remembered how horrific it had been initially, being sold as some sort of tiny novelty pet in this intergalactic souvenir shop. He was trembling almost if not every waking hour of the day, and would freeze up anytime someone walked past his cage. Rush hour was hell for him… Nowadays he was too exhausted to even lift a finger. Most customers took note of his sickly appearance, being so pale and thin he looked like he was one second away from crumbling into dust. Which he supposed was good, since most of them lost interest in him after a few seconds of inspection. It seemed like all of them knew. All of them knew he didn’t have long. And why buy a pet that you knew wasn't going to make it? He never bought those scrawny and off-colored goldfish at the pet store when he was a child. No one did, why would they? If it wasn’t for the fact that he was dying, he might’ve seen the cosmic irony of him ignoring those goldfish as a child only to feel some sort of comradery towards them now.
He was the last human left in the cage, all of his other fellow captives had either been sold off or passed away due to the horrid living conditions they’d all been exposed to for the last month. Unfortunately for Henry, he had been a stubborn one, as the owner of the shop commented quite frequently. It was clear he was just waiting for Henry to disappear so that he could order a fresh batch of captives to abuse with horrible housing.
The cage was small and made entirely of glass which stripped away any privacy any of them could’ve gotten. There wasn’t any padding or places to sleep comfortably. Besides, even if they did have someplace to sleep, the clunky metal collars made it a little hard to get comfortable. They had been provided with some sort of strange wood shavings on the cage floor, which quite possibly couldn’t have been any more itchy and uncomfortable. Any food they were provided with seemed deprived of any hint of nutrients and only provided Henry with temporary relief by filling his stomach with something to quell the searing pain of hunger. Lastly, they were put through so much distress, with the top of their cage being completely open for all of the shop's open hours, meaning that anyone could pick them up and manhandle them as they pleased in order to figure out if they liked the tiny human or not.
In the beginning, Henry had suffered quite a lot of stress at the (literal) hands of the shop's customers. A lot of them had been kids, or so he assumed, considering they were smaller and much less delicate with how they handled the poor humans. Henry had witnessed one too many of his fellow merchandise be dropped from tens of feet up in the air by those clumsy monsters. Some were quote-on-quote fine, getting lucky and only breaking a few bones. Others died upon impact. Although, Henry was starting to wonder which ones were actually the lucky ones…
Other times there were the odd tourists who walked in and were fascinated by the cage of humans. Most of them were quite handsy, pulling and playing with each one of their limbs as if they were just dolls. Of course, tourists are just what Henry called them. They were all bulky giants with what seemed to be purple scales and multiple eyes spread across their entire body. They were all just loud and quite frankly, too curious for his liking. It reminded him of the horror stories he’d read online by people recalling their experiences with obnoxious tourists… But he supposes that it was through them that he learned what the metal collars were for. There was a sign taped onto the side of the cage that read “Translator included!”, which many of them would read aloud and then condescendingly speak with them and try to get them to repeat words to them. Henry wasn’t quite sure why they were given translators. He wasn’t complaining of course, this whole ordeal would have been a thousand times worse if he hadn’t gotten a helpful (if a bit rude) explanation from the store owner as to what was going on when he first came into the store. However, he didn’t understand the appeal of a pet that could speak. Wouldn’t it feel weird to have a pet that could share its honest opinions with its owner? Surely they couldn’t think they enjoyed being here and would act like small puppy dogs once they brought them home? Henry wasn’t sure considering the way so many of them spoke to their purchased goods while leaving the store, all while ignoring their screaming and crying with soft coos and laughter. Maybe they were all sadists and didn’t care. It sure seemed like they didn’t.
His least favorite was the obnoxious teenagers that would come in, pick up and touch every single one of them, taking photos, tapping the glass, and being generally insufferable. A week or so ago a group of them came in and tried to get Henry’s attention. When he didn’t react to whatever they were doing, one of them grabbed the edges of the cage and started shaking it. 
But luckily, he didn’t have to deal with that now that he barely had any energy to move. Now that he was weak and unresponsive, he wasn’t entertaining anymore. Safe to say, Henry knew that they knew that he didn’t have much time left. On particularly desperate days he considered begging one of them to take him with them. He could try to perform his role as a souvenir if it meant getting out of there and maybe getting a shot at living life. But how good of a life was he really going to live if this was the standard?
Henry was pulled out of his thoughts as the shop owner walked by. He looked down at him with a scowl, eyebrows knit together as he picked up the full food bowl inside of the cage. He sighed in annoyance and walked away with it, presumably going to throw away the old pellets and replace them with new ones. Not that it mattered in Henry’s eyes. They were always dry and disgusting, and he wasn’t eating any longer.
He looked around the store, since his cage was placed at the very back he had a comfortable view of the entire thing. Despite being only one room, it was huge from his perspective, larger than a big football arena. Today seemed slower than usual. There were barely any customers. Three to be exact. A couple looking at some novelty junk, and a man at the end of the store. Was it a man? Henry wasn’t quite sure about alien biology, especially considering none of them looked to be the same species. Come to think of it, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that type of alien before. He kept a small list in his head to pass the time, and there were a couple of regularly reoccurring species that came through, some of the less common ones, and then there were wildcards like the man in the back.
His skin was dark, and he had large pointed ears. His eyes were sharp and yellow, and unlike the store owner and most of the regular aliens, his eyes sat at the front of his face, rather than the sides, just like Henry himself. It’s funny. He almost looked a little human if it weren’t for some of his more alien-esque features. From where Henry was sitting, he actually didn’t look half bad for a horrifying gigantic alien. His eyes seemed so cold and hyper-focused… And that’s when Henry realized, much to his horror, that the giant had been eyeing him, staring at him intensely. And Henry had been staring back.
He quickly averted his gaze, feeling his heart skip a beat as a small dose of adrenaline rushed through his veins for the first time in what felt like forever. That was… Weird. Why did he react like that? He didn’t think he had the energy to fear these creatures any longer. But something about him was making Henry nervous. Really nervous. Maybe it was the aliens' new and darker appearance. Maybe it was the way he seemed taller than most of the other aliens he had encountered. Maybe it was that cold stare… Or maybe it was the fact that forward-facing eyes only belonged to predators. Henry didn’t know. But something about him didn’t feel right. He turned to glance back at him only to bite his tongue and let out a muffled yelp as the alien now towered over his cage. Somehow, in the span of a couple of seconds, he had walked from the back of the store all the way to the cage in the front. 
His eyes seemed to drill into Henry as he looked and inspected him. Henry had an even better look at his face from this angle. He could see that the alien looked more reptile-like than most, having two small slotted holes where his nose should be and his pupils were narrow slits rather than round balls like humans had. Henry looked up at him with his tired eyes. Usually, he would look away and be unresponsive to disinterest whatever customer had their eyes on him, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the alien. 
He must’ve looked so pathetic. Small, and exhausted. Having to lean up against a corner to keep himself up. He hadn’t looked in the mirror in quite a while but he could only imagine how messy his hair must’ve been, how heavy the eyebags under his eyes must’ve gotten, and he didn’t even want to think about how pale and delicate he must’ve looked with how little he had been eating. For whatever reason, Henry felt ashamed. Like he was falling short under the judging eyes staring down at him.
Suddenly, Henry caught the slightest twitch of one of the aliens' long ears. He could see his eyes widen slightly for just a second, before he quickly walked off to a nearby shelf, looking at the different merchandise. It was only then that Henry picked up on the footsteps approaching his cage. He could see the store owner walking out with a new bowl of kibble and a basket of cleaning supplies. It was time for him to clean the cage. Henry prepared himself mentally as the store owner reached into the cage and pulled him out. The feeling of his leathery hands enveloping his tiny body made his skin crawl. Luckily it didn’t last long since the store owner quickly set him down into a separate open plastic box on the register counter. He then turned around to the cage and began the process of cleaning it. 
Just then, Henry saw the couple leave the shop and the reptilian man turned back around and faced him. He looked back to the shop owner, who had just emptied all the wood shavings and was scrubbing the cage clean, before looking back at Henry. After a few seconds, he swiftly approached the plastic container. It was truly impressive to see just how swift and soundless he was when he walked. Henry looked up at him with uncertainty and a small frown, and he swore he could see the man’s eyes soften just a little bit. He was lying on his side, too weak and shaky to try and crawl away from the descending hand that soon covered his entire vision. His breath hitched slightly when he felt the surprisingly soft fingers gingerly wrap around his sides before pulling him up and out of the plastic container. 
He didn’t know if this alien was extremely confident in his ability to go unnoticed or if he was just stupid, stealing a human mere feet away from the store owner. He debated making any sort of noise, but at this point, he honestly couldn’t be bothered by what would happen to him. He could die at the hands of a mysterious stranger or in a glass pet cage… One of those felt at least more dignified and less pathetic, and it also came with the possibility of not dying, depending on this alien’s intentions.
He felt the warmth of the man’s hand envelop him, between that and the soft padded insides of the jacket pocket he was placed into, this was the most comfort he’d been provided with for weeks. He could feel the giant shift around, probably walking to exit the store. He was afforded a small window to the outside world through the pocket opening, and could see some of the other shitty products that lined the store walls as they walked out. However, his sight was robbed of him as the alien's hand once again blocked his view. Henry tensed up as it got closer, only to feel it gently cover him. At first, he was confused until he heard that voice he had despised for weeks.
“Have a great day, we hope to see you again soon!” It was so loud and near. They were walking past the store owner. Henry tensed up as he realized this, and the giant could probably tell since he started to stroke his back with his thumb oh so gently. Henry couldn’t help but melt into the touch. By all means, he should be terrified. He had just been kidnapped… again. But is it really kidnapping if you get kidnapped away from a kidnapper??? Or would that be more of a rescue? Henry supposed it all had to do with the giant's intentions. He could be planning to torture and kill him for all he knew. But right now in this moment, he was handling him like he was the most delicate thing in the world, and that tenderness was something Henry needed desperately after three whole weeks of rough manhandling.
“Have a good day to you as well.” The giant spoke, Henry felt his breath hitch again as his heart skipped a beat. His voice was deep and velvety, he swore he could almost feel the base all the way down from his pocket. He felt the alien speed up a little once they were out of the store. He had stopped stroking Henry’s back and was now speed-walking somewhere. After a short while he sped up further, breaking into a jog. Henry let out a small yelp as the hand now enveloped him, still careful but holding him in place. It wasn’t before long that he could hear the sound of a mechanical whirring followed by air pressure and steam release, most likely a spaceship door opening. Henry’s suspicions were confirmed when he felt them walk upwards, probably on a ramp. He could see some hints of LED lights peeking through the gaps in the pocket opening and soon enough he was pulled out. 
Henry was set down in what appears to be the ship cup holder. The alien was using both hands to tap on buttons and pull levers that Henry could not begin to understand. Soon enough, the ship engine roared, and with the slow and precise pull on what appeared to be the startup leaver, the ship started taking off. Henry let out a small noise of displeasure when the alien suddenly covered the cup holder with his palm. However, Henry was thankful for it when only a mere second later, after pressing a button, the ship blasted off as if instantly and Henry’s body jerked backward. He probably would have fallen out of the cup had he not been covered. 
The ship soon smoothed out into an unnoticeable yet fast speed. The alien slowly uncovered said cup holder and placed his hand on the wheel. Henry looked up at the giant and fiddled with his fingers. They were alone now… What should he do? Should he say hi? Why was this so awkward all of a sudden?!
The air was tense as none of them seemed willing to make the first move… The reality of what had just happened was starting to settle into Henry. Had he just left the safety of the store for some stranger? Dread started to seep into his stomach as he wondered what this giant was possibly planning to do with him. 
Said Giant soon pressed another button on the spaceship panel before turning to look at Henry. He could probably see just how scared Henry was, considering his eyes once again softened just a little too much.
“Hey…” He spoke, and it shook Henry to his core. Just then, sitting curled up in the cup holder, having this gigantic alien looming over him after having taken him so effortlessly, Henry felt truly small. Almost insignificant. As if nothing he could say, do, or think was worth anything. He remembered when he thought he was on top of it all, that there wasn’t any predator that could harm him as long as he remained smart, only to find out that he was deemed as so uínsignificant that he was sold as a fucking novelty product… The alien above him could crush and dispose of him within a second, like how he would trap and dispose of mice and vermin that invaded his home back on Earth. He wondered if this was how they felt moments before he handed them over to the local pest control. His heart wept for them, for now, he knew just how it felt to be small.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as the giant slowly reached out and started stroking his arm with the back of his finger. Henry looked into his eyes only to see none of the previous sharpness, but rather nothing than affection and softness. “You’re okay… It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m not gonna hurt you, alright?” 
Looking down at the tiny human sitting in his cup holder, it was evident that he was terrified. The poor thing was shaking, and his eyes were wide as pinpricks. He hadn’t done this in quite some time, not since he was a teenager. And even though it was a little messed up, seeing the shivering tiny almost brought Kazurix some sort of nostalgia. Most if not all of them reacted this way initially. And in the less extreme cases, Kazurix thought their little shaking forms were quite cute. 
He continued to stroke to the little guys arm as gently as he could. The human was curled up, but it was quite clear he didn't have the strength to curl up completely. Just how malnourished was he? It was evident from his sickly appearance that he, like most humans, hadn’t been taken care of very well. His skin was pale, eyes tired, and his blonde hair was tangled and matted. As soon as he’d calmed the human down, he’d get something to eat. They’d have to start slow, with some liquid food to not overwhelm his stomach, but after that, they’d gradually be able to make their way into actual food. It’s a good thing Kazurix always kept liquid food on him. As much as he told himself he’d stop doing this, he always kept some emergency rescue supplies.
He looked down at the trembling human. He didn’t seem to be rejecting the physical touch. That was a good sign. But he wasn’t responding either. The alien took a deep breath and tried something a little more direct.
”What’s your name?” He asked, prompting the little human to speak. He had to show that he wasn’t a threat to him. He could see his eyebrows knit together as he processed the question. He seemed hesitant for a few seconds, but Kazurix remained patient.
“…H-Henry…” The tiny squeaked out. Kazurix's heart almost melted. He had forgotten just how attached he got to these guys. He smiled softly, being careful not to show his teeth.
“It’s nice to meet you, Henry.” He spoke, continuing to stroke Henry’s arm. “My name is Kazurix. But you can call me Kazu if the full name is too hard to pronounce.” The way he said his full name wasn’t even really how you said it, he had to simplify the phonemes a lot since most humans couldn’t pronounce it. Henry nodded at him. Every movement he made seemed to take so much effort on his part. 
“Do you want something to eat? I have some nutrient paste that should give you some energy back without being too much for your stomach to handle.” He reassured him, standing up from his seat. His ear twitched as he picked up on the small gasp that had escaped the human once he stood up. He crouched down in front of the cup holder to be a little more on the human’s level, while still keeping a little bit of a distance from him to give him some space.
“I… I-I…” The human, Henry, started before resorting to a simple nod. Kazurix nodded back at him.
“Alright. I’m going to pick you up now. I’ll be careful.” He warned before snaking his hands underneath and behind the human. He gingerly scooped the tiny one up into his palms. He was lying there, looking up at Kazurix with those big eyes. At least they weren’t as wide as before. Now they were back to those tired, sad doe eyes that had single-handedly convinced Kazurix to take the human with him. He walked over to the small kitchen space on the ship and put Henry on the counter. He propped him up against the wall, ensuring he wouldn’t fall to either side. Then he opened the cooling box and searched around for the nutrient paste. He wasn’t sure where it was since he hadn’t had to use it in so long. It was a good thing they lasted so long…
Finally, he found the tube. He pulled it out. It was supposed to taste sweet. He hoped it did. Kazurix squeezed out a small dollop of the paste onto one of the small capsules left over from a bottle he’d thrown away, creating a small makeshift plate for the human so he didn’t have to be hand-fed. He watched as Henry cautiously inspected the food before looking up at him.
“I don’t have anything you could use as a spoon.” The human's eyes widened only a little before he shook his head.
“O-Oh! N-No, it’s okay! I- Uhm-“ He took a shaky breath before reaching his shaky hand up. “I wasn’t expecting any utensils… I wasn’t even expecting any food at all.” Once he was handed the capsule he looked away. “Thank you…” Kazurix smiled.
“You’re welcome.” He was once again reminded of why he did this so much. Most of them took a while to warm up to him, but once they did they were so sweet. He had nursed his fair share of humans back to health. Some of them were incredibly grateful, and some of them were reluctantly so. There were of course the poor humans who were so traumatized that they sadly never let their guard down around him, even after he proved himself as a non-threat. But he nonetheless cared for each and every one of them… Although, he was surprised as to how willing Henry had seemed to be. Usually, they were a lot more hesitant and afraid in the beginning, and while he was both of those things, Henry still thanked Kazurix politely and didn’t put up a fight as he was picked up… He knew there was something about him the second he walked into that store.
He hadn’t expected to rescue a human today, but fate was a funny thing. He had flown his sister and her girlfriend to the intergalactic travel center since the two of them were going on a little trip together. He knew he would’ve run into one of those tourist shops eventually. It was inevitable at such a crossroads of different alien cultures and species, but his heart still dropped when he saw one. He figured they must’ve shut down the human souvenir section, right? The last time he rescued one of them was years ago, it had to have become outdated at this point, right? But alas, walking into the shop he was immediately greeted by a glass cage with a tiny human inside of it. His heart broke for the poor guy, leaned up into a corner of the cage and breathing shallowly. Two people were looking down at him and discussing him, so he took that time to slink past them and into the back of the store. It wasn’t too far away from the cage since the store was quite small and narrow. That was bad.
He preferred to do rescues in larger stores, especially ones where the human section was tucked away between shelves and not out in the open. As the two left to look at some cheap garbage in the store, Kazurix wondered if he even could rescue this tiny. The store owner walked out to grab the bowl of food from the cage. It was full, meaning the human hadn’t eaten. Not that it wasn’t obvious given how scrawny he was… 
Just as he was about to call it quits and leave, the human made eye contact with him. Kazurix’s species were known for their enhanced senses - There was a reason that despite having been found out multiple times while in the middle of a rescue, Kazurix had never been caught. Some would even go as far as to say he was an apex predator of sorts, but Kazurix didn’t agree. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to assume there weren't bigger fish out there… However, his enhanced eyesight helped him see all the details of the tinies face even from so far away. He looked tired, exhausted even, and he was indeed looking at Kazurix. His eyes were sad and round, he wondered how much life had previously been filled within them, only to be stripped away by forces out of his control.
Just then, those eyes widened and the tiny looked away. That was it. Kazurix didn’t care if he got in trouble, or if this was as far away from the ideal rescue circumstances as possible, or if the tiny seemed to be one day away from death. He was going to save him… He was going to give him at least one last day of comfort.
Walking up to the cage, Kazurix could take in even more details of the pocket-sized man. He was dressed in a loose T-shirt and shorts. Probably unisized ones that the shop provided all the humans with. He was wearing a cheaper model of the universal translator collar. That was unusual for a shop this small, but convenient for Kazurix since he didn’t have to worry about how to non-verbally explain what was going on to the human once they were out of there. Then, the human looked back only to yelp at the sudden appearance of Kazurix. Sometimes he could forget how light on his feet he was despite his size. It had always come so naturally to him, but apparently, some aliens thought it was freaky. He had to stop himself from laughing when he heard the small sound that escaped the human. He kept examining him, about to reach in and take him when he heard the footsteps of the owner. He had to wait for another opening. 
He quickly walked to a nearby shelf, pretending to look at whatever junk they were selling. He could hear slight shuffling behind him, and once he heard the scooping of wooden chips he turned to the shop owner. He was cleaning out the cage… Looking around, he quickly found the human on the register counter. He crept over to him, being kept in a small plastic box. His heart broke when he saw just how powerless the little one was, lying on his side with a frown. Without hesitation, Kazurix reached into the box and picked the human up. That’s when he felt just how truly small he was. He had forgotten the tender feeling of holding someone smaller than your index finger, of just how utterly helpless they were to anything and anyone bigger than them, which was just about everyone. And that’s why he needed to do this.
The little guy didn’t even put up a fight. He was lying limply in his hand as he gently stuffed him into his open pocket. Walking by the store owner, Kazurix shielded the tiny using his hand. When the store owner spoke up and politely said goodbye to him, he could feel the poor human tense up in his pocket. He started stroking the little one tenderly, hoping to calm him down as he responded to the store owner, and quickly making his way out before he got busted. 
Everything was so unplanned and happened so fast, and looking back at it, it was a miracle that they weren’t caught. Kazurix was snapped back into reality when he heard Henry call out to him.
“Hello? Uhm… K…Karu?” He asked. Kazurix looked back down at him, eyes now focused. He could see how the human seemed to squirm under his gaze. “Could I get some more food?” He seemed almost afraid to ask. Kazurix smiled down at him, squeezing out another dollop on the small makeshift plate.
“Of course… And,” he chuckled slightly, “it’s Kazu.” He smiled, but the human’s face seemed to pale at his correction.
“O-Oh! I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean-“ Henry scrambled to explain himself. Kazurix simply smirked in amusement. Something about this tinie's nervousness was so charming to him… 
“It’s no big deal.” He stated simply as he went back to stroking Henry’s tiny back with his finger. “Close enough. Don’t be nervous.” He smiled. The tiny paused, looking up at him hesitantly.
“…Why are you doing this?” He asked in a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
“Doing what?”
“Why did you take me? Wh-What are you going to do with me?” Kazurix could see the anxiety building up behind those eyes of his.
“…You looked so weak, and sad. I couldn’t just stand by without doing something.” He said. It was true if only a little simplified. Henry looked away, down at the pale brown paste dollop in front of him.
“…I want to go home.” His voice cracked, and Kazurix’s smile fell in an instant.
“…I know. Earth is… Quite far away from us.” He admitted, unsure if he could even get to earth from where they were right now. Not that he was going to tell Henry that. The human turned his face to the opposite side of Kazurix, but he managed to catch a glimpse of how glossy his eyes had gotten. Poor thing… He wouldn’t blame him if he broke down right now, considering all he went through.
“Hey?” Kazurix said softly. “Let me tell you something.” He moved a little closer. “I’ll get you to Earth… Okay? I promise.” The tiny human turned his head back, and Kazurix could see the small drops of tears that had built up in his eyes.
“You will?” Henry asked. Kazurix got a little closer once more.
“I will…” He reached his hand forward, extending his pinkie finger. “As soon as you feel better, I’ll take you to your home. I promise to protect you and escort you if you’ll have me as your travel companion?” He flashed the human a tender smile. Henry looked away, but this time, Kazurix could see the slight blush that spread to his ears. He couldn’t help but chuckle as the human grabbed his finger and shook it.
“Y-Yeah… That sounds nice.” He picked the paste back up and went back to eating, not before muttering a small and meek: “Thank you…”
And so it was decided. Kazurix was going to help Henry back to earth, a venture that would probably take them months… But he wasn’t about to drop that on Henry right now. He’s had a draining day as is. Although Kazurix was a little ashamed to admit it, he was almost a little happy that the journey would take a while. He’d be happy to get to know Henry more, and what’s a better way to get to know each other than a couple of months in space? He was sure they could make a couple of stops on the way so Kazurix could show off some fun places to Henry. He wouldn’t exactly be able to see them once he was dropped off on Earth anyway. He wouldn’t let anything happen to him while they were enjoying themselves.
“Of course. It’s my pleasure… Henry.” His name rolled nicely off his tongue. It’s been a hot minute since he’s last pronounced a human name. He would no doubt say it a lot more from now on.
Oh, he could tell this was going to be a fun experience.
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the--short--one · 2 years
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Find Part 1 and Part 2 here
Part 3! I’m sorry in advance; I’ve been told this one also hurts
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Again, I’m sorry if the quality tanked. Can you tell I have a hand fixation?
Just one more part to go :))
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nanstar200 · 1 year
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some sketchy hurt/ comfort doodles for the road! 
(ALSO, HAPPY BELATED VALENTINES DAY!!! I’LL MAKE SOMETHING TASTEFULL FOR U ALL!!)
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diodellet · 3 months
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no, i'd rather pretend (jamil viper x gn!reader)
summary: It was so easy to pretend that you weren't also drowning. content warnings: -reader is an unreliable narrator -reader is yuu -self-deprecating, mean inner thoughts (80% ventfic, 20% comfort) ++unbeta'd all mistakes are mine. word count: 1.4k words
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It was one of those days. Where everything felt too much.
Sure you could cope with it, carry on as if nothing was bothering you. Let all the little inconveniences wash off of you. After all, you couldn’t overblot. You were the Ramshackle Prefect, damn it. A long time ago, you were given the title of beast tamer and that made you believe that nothing could even come close to bothering you.
Sometimes though, it meant needing a few moments—maybe minutes to cry—alone to gather yourself.
Which, you couldn’t really get in NRC.
“I wish you would lean on us though.” Jamil’s voice, albeit low enough to give the sense of discretion, sounds far away. But you know that he’s crouched by you. 
“No… I can’t do that, I’m already dead weight to you all.” Your arms pull tighter around your knees, trying to compress your frame into something smaller than it actually was.
Most of all, you had no excuse to be throwing around words and thoughts you’d kept hidden like knives to pierce your opponents. Things that you thought once hidden, would remain hidden and eventually be pushed out of your memory.
It doesn’t work like that however. Unpleasant things liked to bubble to the surface, especially during one’s most vulnerable moments.
“Can you please leave… I’m already troubling you all by being like this…” Please let me fix myself. I can’t put myself back together like this.
You curl up further into yourself, pressing your face into your knees, bone against your eyesockets in a vain attempt to stifle the outcry of your pain.
All it does is make a pitiful sob heave from you once before cutting off abruptly. You feel a brush of fingertips against the back of your hand, damp from the futility of stopping your emotional fit. And with a gentle tug, your hand comes away—away from shrinking into yourself, away from reflexively hiding the worst of yourself—only to feel his fingers lace together with yours, not one bit bothered by the traces of your tears.
“You once mentioned that this comforted you.” And in the touch of his skin to yours, your first instinct is to yank yourself away.
You did bring it up once offhandedly, when you were sentimental about things you used to be able to do back home, when you were still a stone’s throw away from your friends and family. But his discomfort was understandable, as much as he spent time at the side of someone who wore their heart on their sleeve, not everyone who brandished their emotions did so in the same way. For a moment, his hold tightens, almost afraid that if he let go, then it would mean losing you to whatever it was that was eating you from the inside.
“You also told me once that burdens were meant to be shared.”
Hearing that come back to you—a thing you said in the heat of the moment, somewhere in the aftermath of his overblot—sends a new wave of tears spilling from you.
With those words, a dam breaks and you’re unable to clamp down on any more of your cries.
“But you already have enough on your plate…” you choke out between broken sobs.
Compared to everything he had gone through, your troubles were insignificant. Shallow, even. A meaner part of your mind cuts into you. If you could somehow muster the ability to throw words to ward off someone, then you weren’t actually helpless. You were using your pain to pretend, so you could catch them off guard. So you could eventually drive them away. That was why you were letting him see you like this, right? So he’d see you at your ugly and rotten core, so he’d know to turn around and leave you behind, right?
“Not right now, I don’t have much weighing me down. See?” And his grip shifts to hold your hand more firmly.
“...Are you sure you’re not just saying that? Just to make me stop?” It was fine if he was, as much as you were given comfort in the past, a part of you was dimly aware that the gentleness you were given as a kid was a disguised plea to stop being so immature. That fact of life carried you throughout your years. That everyone has it worse than you, that your problems aren’t all that bad in the first place, you just had to vocalize what was wrong because deep down, you already knew what needed fixing.
And that was the problem right now, wasn’t it? That instead of the big picture explanation you readily had, all you had were sharpened barbs of emotion to pierce yourself and others with.
“I’m not just saying that,” he counters. As measured as his words are, you can feel a faint tremble in his hand as it holds yours. “I… used to think you were. Just saying things, I mean.”
“I probably was.” You were bad with silence after all. Silence was difficult, because it wasn’t actually a total loss of sound, it was having every minute sensation amplified to a deafening degree, being able to hear what was unspoken.
“You weren’t wrong though.” Jamil says, “it took me a while to realize that.”
Does he mean witnessing the other overblots too? The ugly aftermaths of each one that he was privy to? You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during each one or the exact people who were there with you, only bits and pieces of those moments were locked away in a place much deeper than what your memory could hold.
Maybe the only way you could remember was from the bits that spilled out. The bits that mixed together with your ugly insides.
“But… you don’t have to be here.”
“I know, but you don’t have to deal with this on your own either.”
“...Did I also tell you that shit?”
“...Maybe.”
“God, tell me to shut up next time.” At your groan, you hear an amused laugh from him. Like he’s glad that the roles were reversed in his favor. 
There wouldn’t be enough words to describe how much you hated being this vulnerable. Yet not even a fraction of those words could even begin to encapsulate how secure you felt at the same time. All you can do is feel the calmness slowly take over your insides.
“I tried. But you wouldn’t stop.” You can still hear the bitter smile in Jamil’s voice, a pinprick of his true feelings in spite of what was meant to be a playful jab.
“...I’m sorry.”
“No—I’m glad you didn’t.”
And it’s those words that stop your train of thought in its tracks. And you tentatively lift your head to peer at him.
He meets your gaze, and there’s a note of something unbelievably tender, that you wish you looked up before this moment. Jamil Viper was good at hiding his emotions, good at dressing up his words with honey and sincerity.
“Hey,” he says. Like he wasn’t just sitting with you and holding your hand through the worst of your emotions.
“Why…” your voice cracks, “why would you tell me all of this?” Or rather, what you mean to say was, why stay with you when you weren't feeling like yourself?
You supposed that it was so easy to talk, to let observations and promises flow from you without abandon. It was easy being the unbothered party, deflecting any and all cause of concern. It was so easy to pretend that you weren’t also drowning.
“I wouldn’t have said all of that if I didn’t mean it.”
“But…”
And there, you see a falter in his expression, a slight frown forming on his lips. “Don’t make me say it all again.” His gaze momentarily breaks from yours as his free hand comes up to adjust the hood of his dorm uniform.
Ironically, it’s what dispels the last of your doubt.
“Not even one more time?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m leaving.” Yet even as Jamil says that, he still hasn’t let go of you.
“...Can you stay for a little bit longer?” And was it okay for you to open up a little bit more? Was he okay with hearing from you? Hearing about these useless worries and feelings that swallowed you up?
“I’m not going anywhere.”
And with the warmth surrounding your hand, a lifeline in your sea of emotions, maybe you could believe that.
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a.n. i'll fix this after i've had a moment to sleep. i wrote this on a whim while i was going through shit (i still kind of am... but i'm doing better). omake
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coffehbeans · 2 months
Text
Gt WAC Day 23
"A story with a nonhuman/ monstrous character"
THIS, this was a challenge to write ahsushus I'm so nervous cause it took me SO long and as per usual I'm still unsure about it.
This story is based on a dream I had a month ago, I was writing it since then so i could post it on day 23 of gtwac. So yep, new character. It's different from what I've wrote so far, but I hope you guys enjoy it!
Depending on the reception of this story I will continue it, but fair warning that it'll not be a happy one (IF I continue it).
I'm not sure if I'll rate this chapter in particular as above PG-13, but general warning for overall spooky, unsettling vibes.
Enjoy!
........................................................................................
Edward Becker has not seen his wife in seven years.
People called him crazy for waiting for her return. "She's done for", someone mentioned. "Why don't you find another one?", someone suggested, all falling in deaf ears as every single day, he'd go back from work, sit by the porch, and wait for her until the sun went down. A useless effort, as they said, a delusional hope, or the sign of going mad. But for Edward, it was his strength. The only support for his failed attempts at finding her. His last pillar of sanity that made him get up every morning and wait for her until nightfall. His wife would come back, like she always did. She would come back to his open arms, embrace him gently like she used to, cover him with kisses as he pulled her close. They would giggle and enter their home, enjoy a nice meal they cooked together, talking about their day during dinner, about plans for rebuilding their house, plans for a new job he wanted to get, plans about their future children. When night falls, they would sleep holding each other tight, relishing in their shared warmth.
All he had to do was wait for her by the porch.
...
One day, she did comeback.
It was past midnight. So dark and cold outside, most animals have gone to sleep, making the woods around his remote home dead silent. The cows and chickens of his small farm uttered no sound as they slept, and the wind billowed the wheat fields outside, his plain wooden house colored pitch black by the late-night sky. It was a weathered home, well kept indoors but in need of repairs, with ripped, dingy furniture and leaks on the roof. It was protected by a measly three-feet-tall fence that threatened to fall apart, and over the backyard, where the overgrown grass was blown by the wind, laid a simple wooden shed meant for storing farming equipment. Tossing and turning on his bed, Edward sat up with a jolt, sweat dripping on his face as anxiety threatened to eat him whole. He sighed, holding his face in his trembling hands, and letting out a shaky breath. He couldn't fall asleep in those nights, where the memory of Cordelia haunted his mind in his dreams, ones where she wore desperate expressions as she's dragged away from him by detached, withered hands, and no matter how much he ran, he didn't reach her. Nightmares where he found her dead body, pale and laying limp, lifeless eyes staring at him. Nightmares where he found her hurt, bleeding and beaten up, face covered by bruises ­– in most nights, those visions would plague him.
With a shiver, Edward got up, lighting up the oil lantern. He trudged for the kitchen, on his way to do the same as usual: put some water over the wood burning stove, boil it, try this new tea his friend had brought for him, and drink it aimlessly, hoping in vain for sleep to come back.
He sluggishly put wood pieces inside the firebox, reaching a hand for the lighter on the table. A flicker, two, and the fire was lit. He put the kettle over the stove with a clank, and stared at it blankly, waiting for bubbles to form. The house was pitch black, only the flickering flames of the stove and the lamp’s dim glow illuminated the room.
A loud sizzling of the kettle snapped Edward out of his torpor as the water boiled. He picked the hot handle, feeling its heat burning his skin, lifted it from the fire and — THUMP. A loud thud by the window behind him sent him jumping, fumbling with the kettle in his hands, heartbeat skyrocketing. He banged it on the table. Hot droplets prickled his hand. He turned around with rapid breaths. A blurred shadow dashed away from the window, sending a cold chill down his spine, the wind howling and heavy thuds echoing outside the house’s walls. Rhythmical and constant. Pounding on the ground. Edward sucked in a breath, head ringing against his skull. He stomped towards the cabinet containing his shotgun. There were thieves? In the middle of the night? Were they finally coming to steal a poor and mad man's house? He wouldn't allow it.
He can’t die yet. Not until Cordelia comes back to him.
Loading the gun with precise clicks, Edward aimed it at the window, darting his aim from window to window until he reached the door, the last place he heard the strange sound. With trembling hands over the trigger, his eyes focused on an invisible target. He held his breath, standing still. Not a single sound. Ears trained on any disturbance. THUMP. THUMP. A shadow passed by the window to his right. BANG!
He twisted his body and shot, missing the shadow by an inch.
"W-who's there!?" He shouted in a trepid tone.
No answer. Not even a sound. Maybe the sound of breathing. He couldn't tell. He couldn't tell if it was someone's breathing or his own.
The “sshhhs” and “thuds” echoed around him, heading towards the backyard. Edward adjusted the position of the gun in his arms.
He took a deep breath.
Edward ran to the back door and slammed it open with a kick, pointing the trembling shotgun towards the field. The sky was pitch-black outside, engulfing the horizon with its inky tint, and the stars didn't dare approach the darkness. The faint moonlight was partially obscured by the clouds, its glow too weak to lighten the outdoors. He huffed, feeling the weight of his gun, and headed further into the backyard with measured steps. His shoes crunched the grass below, the dry air amplifying the sound of his stride. Deadly silence filled the field. A puff of smoke left his nostrils as warm exhale met with the frigid air. Tightening the grip around the gun, he aimed it at the decrepit shed. Waiting for movement. Eyes trained forward. The dark blur of a large silhouette shifted behind it.
BANG.
He shot. Once. Twice. The sound of the bullets making his ears ring, metal creating holes in the aged wood. A loud, high-pitched, and definitely human scream cried behind it.
He stopped shooting, heart leaping to his throat. A weight plunked in his insides, making him loose the tight grip on his gun. Behind the shed, he heard it. A gasp. A whimper. A sob. Clearly feminine. Edward lowered the gun, furrowing his brows as the cries made a lump form inside his throat. A trick to let his guard down? A trap? It must be a trick for sure. No way an innocent person would show up in the middle of the night. No, there's no way. Goosebumps trailed down his back as the cries reached his ears. Why was there even someonehere?
The sobbing got louder, echoing in the cold, dark night. He shivered when the shrill voice reverberated in his ears, an uncomfortable knot twisting in his stomach at the thought he could have shot an innocent woman.
"Who... Who's there?" He repeated, cautious this time, as if talking to a cowering animal.
The sobs dwindled little by little. He didn't dare move. The figure was hidden behind the shed, not even the faint moonlight giving a glimpse of its appearance.
Finally, he heard it: that feminine voice. Frail, faint, and so utterly scared.
Its familiarity so potent, something clogged in his throat.
"... Ed..."
That voice. The voice he waited for so many years by the porch. The voice he dreamed of in his sleep. Screaming. Crying for help. Calling for his name.
"... Edward..."
The same voice that recited sweet words of so much care, so much love and adoration to him every day. The voice that followed a gentle embrace, the smell of perfume and a prolonged kiss. The same voice that said "I do" by the altar over 12 years ago, that whispered close to his ear, giggling with joy. The voice that chatted to him relentlessly, which he couldn't get enough of. The voice that laughed, cried, shouted, only to say sweet words of gentle love again. That melodic yet striking voice. Edward didn't notice the tears falling from his face. Didn't notice the gun falling to the ground. Didn't notice his feet moving on his own, towards the shed, towards the faint possibility that she was behind it. He stumbled faster towards it, raising a trembling hand. "C-Cordelia?!" "NO! DON'T COME CLOSER!" The powerful shout made him stop dead on his tracks, ears complaining from its sheer force. He never heard his wife sound so... Desperate. In panic. "... H-honey...?" "Pl-please... D-don't come closer yet." She said, her voice returning to its normal pitch, but shaking with trepidation.
  "W-what's wrong...? Did I –"
Then he remembered it. The gun. The shootings. The fact he almost killed his own wife. His heart sank, face turning pale, his voice hoarse.
"Oh God. It's - it's really you, it was you and I almost, I-I a-almost... A-are you hurt? Are you bleeding? I –"
Edward took more shaking steps towards it, the nightmare of his dead wife still clear in his mind.
"NO!" - He stopped again. - "I-I'm fine! I'm not hurt, you d-didn’t hit me."
Edward covered his face with a hand and stopped himself from wanting to vomit.
"Cordelia I'm- ... I-I'm so, so sorry I thought it was a thief, I..."
He lowered his head, and took a shaky breath.
"Am I going crazy? Is – is it r-really you?! I, I waited for s-so long – I thought you were dead —!"
Tears poured desperately from Edward's eyes, his attempts to stop his sobs coming in vain. He hiccupped under his cries, breathing rapidly as reality came crashing down and years of restrained emotion leaked out. The voice sounded just like her. The voice could really be her.
‘Then, if it’s her, why is she hiding?’
"Please, d-dear, if it's really you..." - he whispered, his voice croaky and dry. Tears continued to fall.
"Please let me see you..." The shed grew eerily silent. Cold air made him quiver. A silent second spread throughout the night, the sounds of his sobs echoing through the pitch-black darkness. "I... I can't."
She whispered back in a shaky voice. Unsure. Afraid. Edward raised his head, glancing to the fallen gun on the grass, a realization hitting deep inside his stomach. "Are you scared of me...?" A pause. He heard her sucking in a breath. A long, deep exhale was carried by the wind. Her voice faint and trembling. "N-no... Dear, I... I'm not scared of you." The shed's wood creaked, like something was gripping it and scratching it down. "...I'm scared of myself." Edward's guilty expression changed to confusion. He furrowed his brows. A part of him wanted to giggle. His adorable wife, scared of herself? Why? She always had some impatience and anger she was discontent about, but even so... That made no sense. The way she acted, hiding from him, made no sense. Another part of Edward felt an odd sense of dread. As if something was not right. "Honey, why are you hiding from me? I... I waited for so long... I-I searched everywhere for you, and when I couldn't find anything, I waited. And when I couldn't wait anymore, I prayed. I hoped. I-I never paid attention to what the others said, even if they called me crazy." He took a step towards the shed. She sucked in a breath. Edward didn't notice more tears started to pour from his face. "And it's you, r-right? It's you who's behind here, right? Alive and well? Please dear... Don't let me think I've gone crazy!" He took another step closer. Then another. She whimpered behind the decrepit barn. Edward's vision was blurry from his own tears, but he didn't care anymore. He just needed to see her, even if it wasn't true. Even if he died.
Gosh, he just wanted to see her.
"Honey, DON'T!" The sheer loudness of her rigid voice made him stop dead on his tracks again. He opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Cordelia interrupted him.
"It's n-not... It's not that I'm not alive and well, Edward..." "So why are y-"
"...I-it's that I don't know what I am anymore..." He paused. That uneasy sense of dread sank heavier inside him. "What...? Cordelia, what do you mean-" "If I," – She interrupted, taking a deep breath. – "If I really come out of this shed, Will you promise, promise me that you will not run?" A shiver ran down his spine. Heartbeat rocked harder against his chest. Something's not right. Something's clearly not right. But Edward planted his feet firmly on the ground. It was his wife's voice. He lost her seven years ago. He doesn't know what happened to her in that time. She could be different from how she looked back then, hurt and bruised from whatever abuse they inflicted on her. Rage bubbled up inside him. Whoever did anything to her, he would kill them in cold blood. They would pay for taking her away from him. Being hurt and disfigured by her captors… That was probably what Cordelia meant.
There was no need for him to feel so nervous.
"You know I love you, dear... No matter what. You know I'd never run away from you... So why would you even ask that?"
"Please, Edward." She said louder than he expected. Desperate. Too desperate. "Please promise you won't run." The moonlight cast over the shed, the little gaps between the wooden plates showing a faint shadow behind it. A hulking mass, piled up like a bundle of hay, a head peeking out of the lump as if there was no body attached to it. Edward's eyes widened, heart drumming faster in his chest. Cold sweat scurried down his forehead. 'What is that?' And yet, he couldn't deny the pleading voice of his wife, sounding exactly as she did seven years ago. It couldn't possibly not be her. Something grave must have happened when she was gone, and that's why she was so afraid. Yes, that's most likely it.
So Edward gulped his nervousness down, and wiped the sweat from his face.
"Honey... I promise I won't run away from you... I would never run away from you."
A light, quiet wail whispered in the cold night, slowly dwindling down. A sniff sounded behind the shed. A long inhale and exhale belonging to powerful lungs.
Silence.
"... Alright."
And the heavy sound of something dragging over the earth.
A form encased in shadow peeked from the wooden walls over fourteen feet above him. Edward took a while to notice the large silhouette was a head. His wife's head. It was truly, truly her! Looking just like he remembered and – pale. So sickeningly pale. A dark and somber expression covered her face. Her eyes were baggy and downcast, white lips trembling. But more importantly, he couldn't understand why she has so high up.
"P-please..." - she uttered, almost to herself. - Please don't run..." Gargantuan claws appeared next to her, black, sharp nails curling over the creaking wood. A long, bony hand covered by charcoal scales. His wife pressed her eyes firmly shut. Edward took a step back, his mouth going dry. The sinking feeling in his stomach cut deeper. And then he saw why she was so high up.
The rest of her appeared under the pale moonlight, her form triple of a human size. A gigantic torso loomed over him like a small tree, covering him in her shadow. She wore nothing on her, long, mahogany hair covering her chest.
Then he looked down.
Black and yellow scales jutted out of her skin, covering her lower half, legs attached together in a single, cylindrical body that twitched and writhed as it came closer. The thick tail uncoiled behind the shed, extending further and further to Edward's right, so much so it could envelop around him if it moved. With loud thumps, Cordelia's massive form fell on the ground, hair obscuring her downcast face. Black talons gripped the soil as she pushed herself forward. Rough and coarse scales scraping against the earth as the hulking, round tail crunched the grass and lugged over it like a corpse dragging on the dirt. Rocks broke with a sickening "crunch" under its weight.
Edward's face contorted in shock. He took one, two steps back, eyes widening in horror, shaken to the core as his heart jumped in his throat. Pounding harder against his ribcage.
It was a gargantuan something, half snake, half something that resembled human. Resembled his wife. He mumbled incomprehensibly. Primal fear took over him. A crying, shaky voice resounded from the creature's mouth. A clawed hand the size of his head reaching out to him. "P-please... Edward..." He ran. He screamed bloody murder and dashed back towards his house, hearing it holler back his name. Tears fell from his eyes, desperation taking hold of his body. A deafening sound of thumps and scratches came from behind him, growing closer, coming for him.
"WAIT–!" Tha thing can’t be his wife. Whatever it was it could not be his wife. It shouldn't be his wife. It shouldn't be human. He ran through the house's corridors, left became right and up became down and the crunches behind him grew louder and louder and he had to hide, he had to hide but there was nothing in his room aside from the cold, old bed so he bolted, ran and ducked under it, mumbling shaky prayers, begging to heavens for his life. Begging that he was hallucinating. To not die to someone who looked so much like her.
That couldn't be real. He heaved. It can't be real, can't be real can't be real it can’t – He's gone crazy. Yes, that must be it. He's finally gone mad and that’s why.
But the cracks of the floorboards under the creature's weight sounded far too real for him to doubt. The scratching of the claws over the ground as it dragged its gargantuan body caused a fear too intense for him to doubt. The cracking of the walls as it squeezed itself inside felt too real for him to doubt. Edward clamped his mouth shut with a shaking hand, curling up under the bed and closing his eyes tight. If he remained immovable, if he remained silent, maybe it wouldn't find him. Maybe he wouldn't die. He gulped down a whimper that threatened to escape from his throat. Cordelia's voice resonated from the creature's mouth again. Weak, raspy, and grieving. It was a strategy to lure him out. Yes. That was probably it. It couldn't possibly be something else. Because that huge monster with crude scales couldn't be his wife, with soft skin and flowing hair, with her dress that billowed in the wind when they walked over green fields together. No. That thing could not be her. "Edward... Please, I-I..." She whispered under her heavy sobs. Loud thumps echoed outside the room. "I won't hurt you... Please believe me!"
The sobs that sounded so much like her broke his heart in half. But he remembered to what it belonged to. He would not fall for it. Even if he wanted to scream for help, knowing that no one would come. Even if a part of him wanted nothing more than believe it was all true and run towards its scaly arms. He gulped down his screams of fear, and remained silent. Frozen. Unmoving. He would not fall for it
The scrapes and scratches got louder. Scales hissed over the floorboards that chirred in protest.
"I'm not a monster. I'm not –" A claw unhinged itself from the floor and the creature raised itself up. A loud bump thundered on the ceiling, a shocked gasp echoed in the dry air. Edward clutched his eyes shut. Dust and debris fell on the ground. The monster laid down again, a heavy bang thundering in the silent house. The floorboards groaned as it settled on the ground.
"If you... If you look at me like that again, I-I think I'll go crazy... I can't stand it!"
Loud sobs filled the house. Edward flinched and clutched his eyes shut, breathing heavily, curling further inside himself. He resisted the urge to break down into tears.
The dragging and shuffling got heavier. The floorboards of his bedroom, the ones he was currently laid over, creaked in complaint of the weight being placed upon them. The sound got louder. Closer.
It was entering his room.
He sucked in a quivering gasp. Heart threatening to escape his throat, he shook as if the room was freezing cold, tears cascading down his face at the thought that he really could die now. He would die. He would die. Maybe he should. Maybe she should just end him.
He saw it. The black and yellow scales, shimmering as it moved. The snake body crawling as it reached the door, so massive it got stuck in the door frame. A push or two and it got free, the walls around it cracked, dust fell around him and a crunching sound reverberated in the room. Black claws scraped the ground, wood screeching in the deafening silence. A towering human body, pale torso as tall as him, laid down, auburn locks of hair trailing on the floor. The face obscured by its raised head.
It stopped moving. He looked at its skin with heaving breaths and widened eyes.
They remained still for what felt like an eternity. The only sound was his own heartbeat, his breathing and the creature's. The tail twitched and thumped against the walls with a loud noise. He flinched as his eyes darted back and forth, hearing the friction of scales against wood.
Silence.
She sniffed. And spoke first. "... When the civil war happened, we hid here once. You would wrap your arms around me, and we'd curl up together under the bed, praying that it'd protect us." – she whispered.
"– But even when I cried, even when we thought we would die, I still felt safe with you. Do you remember that, dear…?"
The sorrowful voice spoke of memories that a monster should not have. Edward felt cold. So cold, alone under that bed.
He closed his eyes tightly shut. Maybe, after a while, he wouldn't see her when he opened them. Hugging himself, Edward shuddered as a shiver crawled up his spine. Maybe he could still return to a normal life, where he didn’t hallucinate. Maybe he could still pretend none of this happened.
There was a shifting sound, and he sucked in a trepid breath. A thud, right in front of him. With his lips trembling, and teeth grinding against each other, Edward wondered if his death would be quick. But time stretched as the room fell into stifling silence, the monster's breathing ruffling on his face. It was right in front of him. He knew. He knew that he should just keep his eyes closed, waiting for his death. He knew that. His heart hurt inside his ribcage from pounding so hard, and his stomach sank lower with fear. He should close his eyes more firmly. He should just wait a while longer.
But instead, he opened them.
Her face. Her same crying face, if not for the magnified size and its greyish blue eyes with slitted pupils. A shadow of what once was her. His wife. The one he waited for so long. The one he imagined walking back to him as he sat by that porch every day. It did come back, as a monster, a ghost ready to haunt him, blame him for the pathetic man that he was, for not being able to prevent her from going missing. A reflection of what he lost. Evidence of his cowardice. A sign that he has gone mad.
That's what he wanted to believe.
But the face that resembled his wife so faithfully mirrored his expression of dread and grief. It covered itself in such humanity, with the exhausted eyes dripping with tears. With the mouth, when its pale lips parted as it sucked in a shaky breath, even if it revealed sharp teeth underneath. With its thick, auburn hair as it clung to her sweating face. It looked so distinctly human. So distinctly real. Not at all like a ghost. Not at all like a monster out to hunt him.
In that closeup by the gap under the bed, it just looked like his wife.
Edward’s breathing got less exasperated. His heart rocked less inside his chest. His tears dried as his widened eyes remained frozen on the figure before him. He glared at its mouth, as it opened to speak.
"Edward..." It whispered. So silently, so tender yet certain, just like the time when he had her by his side.
"... I am real."
The tears resurfaced, a mix of fear, hope and despair turned into quiet, then loud sobs, then muffled screams as Edward cried and curled up further under the bed, letting out years of frustration. Years of guilt as it made his chest hurt and his breathing to narrow. He couldn't hear her, who was sobbing on her own, as he drowned in the sorrows that leaked out of his weathered body like a dam that has been broken. Did he have her back? Could he really put a stop to this? He felt guilty. So guilty. Was that his fault? If he found her, would she have turned out like this? No, she wouldn’t. He knew she wouldn’t and that was why the tears wouldn’t stop. If the monster wanted to hurt him, Edward wouldn’t blame it, not even a little.
When he started to calm down, he didn't realize the creature was still there, in front of him, with tears gathered on its enlarged face. He regained his breath, steadily and gradually, refocusing his eyes on the grey blue irises. Her gaze softened, just like when she greeted him home after a tiring day, eyes inviting him for peaceful rest.
He needed that rest. More so than any other day.
"If I... If I move away, will you come out?"
She whispered so quietly Edward struggled to hear it. But it still sounded the same, that sweet, honeyed voice that said “I love you” with so much earnest and ease. But a part of him still doubted. His body still trembled under her alien gaze. Doubts echoed in his mind, and adrenaline pumped in his veins. If this was her, then how? Why? What kind of degenerate devil would do this to her?
But still, he wanted to believe... He did, but... He didn't want to die.
"Dear... If I wanted to hurt you, don't you think I'd already done so?"
There it was, her bolder side, the one that always made her win an argument, that scolded him sometimes but he always loved it when she did. The one that now made him snap out of it, and helped Edward realize that he didn't have any power in this situation from the very beginning. The creature was huge and could see him. Indeed, if it wanted it would have hurt him long ago. Edward repeated this in his head over and over until it was enough to clear his mind.
In a glimpse of calmness, he managed to speak in what was left of his hoarse voice. "Yes... You're right, honey." And she smiled. A relieved, sad smile, one that did not have any hope in it, but that was glad he at least spoke to her like a person. Like his wife. Even if it was only for a little bit.
  She got up, the long claws visible for a second in Edward's field of vision. They recoiled towards the snake creature's chest as if it had touched a burning kettle, knowing he had seen its intimidating appendage. It shifted its body away and the scales glistened as it slithered towards the door. After a while, it stopped. The area in front of Edward was free to move now.
His heartbeat rocked louder. What if the moment he leaves it slices him open with those claws... – No. 'Snap out of it. Snap out of it.'  he repeated in his head, recalling the events and the fact that if it was a predator after its prey, he was already too difficult to be bothered with. He would be fine, Edward assumed. He had to be.
And if all of that was a lie, then it was better that he died anyway, granting the sweet release of death instead of sinking into his madness.
Because if all that he saw this night was not real, then he really has gone mad.
Edward took a deep breath. One... Two... The snake creature remained still.
Three.
He scrambled away from the bed and sat up in a hurry, heaving like he had run a marathon. Eyes closed. Waiting for the inevitable.
It never came.
So he opened his eyes, coming face to face with the creature's scales stretching in the distance. His heart throbbed.
"I-it's okay, honey... You're doing great." She whispered, voice clogged by her own desire to break down into tears.
Edward took another deep breath. In… And out. No closing his eyes now. And slowly, he raised his head up, searching for the face of his beloved. Even if he was shaking from head to toe.
His eyes trailed up her body. Nervous and slim hands, covered by black scales, interlaced over her lap. The scales of her tail became thinner and thinner as he looked up, their color contrasting against the ivory skin of her human upper body. It was ashen, slim, the torso alone was as tall as he was. He looked to the chest concealed by her hair, mahogany and wavy, just like he remembered, although the strands were much longer and thicker than before. And finally, he reached it. The same sweet, tender face, looking down at him. The trembling lips struggled to show a reassuring smile, forcing her mouth shut in order to cover the fangs underneath it. Those elongated eyes, with thick eyelashes that fluttered, blinking away tears. The same straight nose. Those previously beautiful blue eyes, now a greyer shade and with pupils like a reptile's, yet with that human, longing glance, darting around Edward's face as she analyzed his every expression.
It was her. No doubt about that now.
Edward opened his mouth and closed it, struggling to form words. Thoughts spiraled inside his mind. Feelings of guilt, frustration, anger, indignation. Fear. Sorrow. Pain.
Yet hope. Above all it was hope.
Edward got up, not taking his eyes off hers.
That was no monster. It was, indeed, his wife.
"Oh, Cordelia, what have they done to you?"
His voice whispered, thick with sorrow. He looked up to see pools of tears splashing from Cordelia's face, a clear expression of relief. She sobbed, burying her face in her clawed hands, relieved that her husband called her by her name again. Relieved that he was here. Relieved that he didn't see her as a monster, at least for that moment. A piece of humanity she lost, a piece of her previous life that she missed, a piece of hope that was snatched away from her seven years ago and that she never thought she'd have again. It was returning for her.
He was returning for her.
Cordelia was surprised by a warm touch over her scaled lap. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the rough back of her hand, looking down with a gasp. Her husband was rubbing his hand over it, tiny and shaking, comforting her. An attempt to reach out.
"D-don't. They are hideous..." Tears flowed on her face.
‘Indeed, they were’, Edward thought. He never liked snakes, their scales always making his skin crawl whenever he found one in the farm. The feeling wasn't any different as he trailed his hands over her, goosebumps raised the hairs on his skin and he shuddered with each motion. Edward exhaled shakily. No matter how much he looked at it, even if everything felt unreal at the moment, he couldn’t deny who was in front of him.
"They are still you." He said.
Cordelia widened her eyes and Edward looked up at her with compassion on his face. Love, longing. They both yearned for that. For the same feeling to return to them. For the same life, that was so cruelly snatched away from them, to return as if nothing had gotten between them in the first place. Even if it was a pointless dream.
They fumbled awkwardly at what to do.
Edward wasn't sure how to proceed. His mind conjured images of him holding her tightly, back to her human form, like a dream manifesting. Yet the reality loomed over him and the long tail that filled his bedroom in multiple coils covered his skin with goosebumps, a knot tightening on his throat.
He looked up and confirmed it, Cordelia's unsure face was there. He’s not crazy. All of that was still her.
She looked away under his apprehensive gaze, turning deep red and ashamed of herself. Edward took a deep breath; she didn’t feel well and he needed to fix this. He looked down. Then looked up again.
"Can I hold you?"
The question took Cordelia aback. She backed away from him and widened her eyes. Her tail bumped on the cabinet and he twisted his neck towards the source of the sound, clearly flinching from the movement.
He was still terrified of her. Then, why...?
"You don't need to do this, Edward. You did great already –“
"No. I want to do this. If you're really you, I want to do this."
Cordelia looked down and saw Edward's determined face. Her heart broke silently inside her. Why he was so adamant in dealing with her, Cordelia didn't know. But gosh, if it wasn't for his fear and for her disgusting claws, she'd have held him close a long time ago. She missed it so much. How much she missed his strong embrace.
So she nodded, and he came closer.
Edward couldn't quite contain how much he was shaking. Couldn't contain his jolt when he touched her frigid skin, chills crawling down his spine. But despite this, he pushed on forward, kneeling over her scaled lap, glancing at how they shone even in the partial darkness. With silent fascination, Cordelia let her arms hover around him.
A moment hung between them.
And Edward latched onto her. He rested on her torso and enveloped his arms around her, as much as he could, as they barely reached her back. Cold. She was cold like a corpse. He rested his cheek against her stomach, shivering upon contact. Gosh, it was so cold. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to hold her closer. Cordelia didn't remember the last time she sensed so much warmth. She felt herself getting hot inside even when she thought she was not capable of feeling warm anymore. Edward snuggled closer to her chest, and she sighed, relishing in his contact. Gently, like she was cradling an injured bird, Cordelia enveloped her arms around him, careful not to hold him too tight or not to loom over him, either. Gosh, the way her arms completely engulfed him... She felt monstrous. Edward shrank upon contact and she started to let him go, fearing this was a bad decision, but the feeling of his hug getting tighter made her arms remain still.
They stayed like this for an amount of time, taking in each other’s presence. Edward heard his wife's strong heartbeat against him, which grounded him in his current predicament, but still... Maybe he'd blink and she'd be gone, or maybe something would finally reveal that he'd made all of that up. Cordelia's embrace got a little tighter, not in a way that was hurting him, but she shifted around and her shadow loomed over as she curled around him. Her arms closed the hug in, and his heart skipped a beat.
"I missed you." she croaked.
She leaned over Edward, pulling him closer. He sighed in sweet relief upon hearing her melodic voice, feeling exhaustion weighing down on him as his body relaxed. He sank in her gentle embrace, kissing the surface of the freezing cold skin.
"I missed you too, dear."
...
They were laying on their backs under the early morning light, on the floor of the same bedroom where everything happened. Cordelia's tail stretched way further outside the room, disappearing through the door. Edward rested on top of her, not after much insistence that he wrapped a warm blanket around him. He ran his fingers through her hair, dazed, letting the reality of the situation sink in. He wasn't exactly afraid now, but the memories of the night made his heart twist with a mix of dread and guilt. Edward needed to know. How bad was everything that happened to her? Too much happened, she was gone, and now he had her back. It felt unreal and too real at the same time. And yet, Edward needed answers. Maybe, just for a few minutes, he thought, they could stay like this, and pretend that nothing had happened, but he knew that curiosity would get the best of him. Cordelia looked down at her husband with tenderness, watching as he caressed her hair, as she avoided touching him with her claws. She noticed his pensive expression and frowned.
“Is something wrong?
Edward hesitated, looking for ways to phrase his question. "What happened that made you turn into this?" He asked finally, tone even, yet with seething rage building up inside his chest. "Who did this to you?"
Cordelia sighed, closing her eyes. All the memories surfaced in her head like a messy conjecture of disfigured images and sounds. She took a shuddering breath, and spoke.
"I regained memories of you first before I remembered my own name..."
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munchkin1156 · 9 months
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Listen. Listen. LISTEN.
Zombie apocalypse with G/T Headcannons!
(Let me have my fun guys, come on-)
. . .
-Borrowers are already incredibly agile and smart, needing to avoid humans daily, but with zombies it's much easier, since they are slower, and less smart than humans! And they probably wouldn't even notice borrowers, they're only after human brains
-Lots of abandoned food and scraps for taking, plus no need to worry about beans! Mostly
-Get caught by a human? Easy! Just pretend to be a zombie! A foolproof plan that definitely won't make you get thrown across the room like a tennis ball!
-Borrower who already lives with humans teaching them how to scavenge and save food
-Group of borrowers fighting off zombies who enter their territory
-Borrowers who leave traps for humans and zombies to get caught in
-Borrower who borrows from a secret underground resistance against the zombies and gets caught trying to trick zombies to come into the humans base so that they can have all the supplies for themselves
-Borrower who gets caught by a human who was pretending to be a zombie to prank their friends the borrower thought it wouldn't care about them since it's a zombie
-Avian borrower who taunts the zombies so that they don't chase the humans and then they get caught because they got hurt and now the humans are freaking out oh no
-Borrower who thought they got caught by a human and is now best friends with a zombie
-giant zombies that are sixty feet high but ignore humans because their brains are too small
-tiny zombies that sneak into your house and bite you while you sleep like mosquitoes
. . .
Aaannddd that's all I have for now!
If anyone takes inspo from this, please tag me, I'd love to see what you guys made!
Speaking of tagging...
@i-am-beckyu for tagging! Idk if anyone else wants to be tagged, tell me if you do, and I'll gladly add you!
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lavendermage · 2 years
Text
A Safe Place to Go
Characters: Child Diluc and Kaeya, Crepus
Genre: Hurt comfort, gender neutral child reader, not canon compliant.
TW: Child abuse, physical abuse, bruses
1.5k words
AN: A comfort fic I wrote for myself. Hope this helps someone else too. Remember that you deserve to be safe. <3
The cold night air stung your face as you ran. You didn't know if they had decided to chase you. You didn't dare look back to check. It usually took half an hour to reach the winery, but you had never run like this. You usually gave up halfway through your races with the Ragnvindr brothers, when you saw them running ahead of you, racing with themselves more than they were racing with you. Fear forced your legs to keep going, to keep pushing off the cold earth.
You only stopped when you reached the winery, scooping up a handful of pebbles. You craned your neck up to find Diluc's window and aimed. You threw pebble after pebble, trying to wake him up. 
The window opened and Kaeya's face popped out. 
You waved desperately. "Kaeya! It's me! Let me in."
He ducked back into his room and you ran around to the entrance. Diluc opened the door, Kaeya hiding behind him. The lantern in his hand lit your face and the bruises on it. He opened the door wider. Kaeya led you to the couch while Diluc locked the door. 
"Who did this?" Diluc half-shouted.
You flinched. 
"We're not angry at you." Kaeya clarified, recognizing the fear on your face. He understood, in a way Diluc didn't, in a way both of you hoped he never would.
"I messed up, you know how angry they get…"
"Your guardian?" Diluc said. Both brothers knew how volatile they were, they had seen it themselves. Even in public they barely hid their anger.
You nodded, just barely. It felt wrong to tell them, it felt unfair to your guardian. They had done so much for you. You could feel the anger flare in the brothers. 
"Can I touch you?" Kaeya asked, the glow of cryo gathering on his hand. "Father always puts cold on our bruises."
You nodded again and he gently pressed his hand to your cheek. 
Diluc just watched, unsure of what to do. He settled for sitting next to you. "Do you want hot chocolate?" 
"I don't want to bother you."
"It only takes a minute."
"Ok. Then can I please have some?" You fidgeted, uncomfortable with asking anything from the brothers.. 
He stood up and took a few steps towards the kitchen. There was another set of steps though. Heavy, adult steps. The door opened and your arms darted to cover your head. 
"Did Kaeya have another nightmare?" A groggy voice asked, a voice you were in no state to recognize. You had woken them up, you were going to be punished.
"Father, (name) is hurt." Diluc said.
Their attention turned towards you, your arms over your head and shaking. The man crouched in front of you, staying more than an arm's length away. Far enough so he couldn’t strike you.
"You're not in trouble, no one is going to hurt you." His voice was even and calm, nothing like your guardian. 
You peeked out from behind your hands. Crepus wasn't like your guardian. He was safe. You lowered your hands until they were clasped in front of your throat. 
Worry was clear on his face as he took in your injuries. "Could you tell me who hurt you?"
You shook your head. Telling your friends was one thing, they were kids like you. Telling an adult was different. It was not allowed, there would be consequences.
"You don't have to worry about being punished. I won't let them hurt you." 
He didn't know. You pulled Kaeya's hand back to your check and looked away. "You can't promise that." 
"I can. It's alright if you're not ready though." He stood up. "How about a midnight snack? We're all up anyway."
Diluc held out his hand to you. You accepted it. You walked hand in hand with Diluc, your other hand holding Kaeya's sleeve. 
Crepus pulled out a box of cookies and started heating a pot of hot chocolate. "Take however many you want." 
Diluc handed Kaeya a blueberry jam linzer and picked a strawberry flavored one for himself. "What flavor do you want?" 
"Anything's fine." 
He frowned at your answer but gave you a raspberry cookie. 
"Diluc, come talk to me." Crepus called his son into the hallway. 
 ~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~
"This is important." Crepus put his hand on Diluc's shoulder. "I know you know who hurt them."
Diluc looked away defiantly. 
Crepus sighed. "I understand you don't want to betray your friend but not telling someone is putting them in danger."
Diluc mumbled something. 
"I didn't hear that. Could you say it again."
"Their guardian did it." Diluc spit out, disgust evident on his face.
"I suspected as much. Seems like I'll have to pay the knights a visit."
"I could-" Diluc offered. 
"No. This isn't a child's problem to solve. You're smart and brave but you are still a child."
"I understand." The disappointment was clear on his face.
Crepus noticed and decided to soften the blow. "You can help them by offering them support. That's what they need from you right now."
"I will." He said, determination etched in his face. 
~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~
When Crepus came back you were in the middle of a cookie. Your eyes widened. Had you eaten too many? You glanced at the box. Only half remained. 
He watched your reaction sadly, recognizing it from when he had first adopted Kaeya, that fear that still lingered in his son's eyes. "I see you liked the cookies. I'll be sure to tell the cooks that it was a success."
You relaxed. "Y-yes. They were very good."
"Those cookies are meant to be enjoyed, don't be afraid to eat more."
Diluc sat next to you. "The cooks here are great. You'll see when we eat breakfast."
"Will I be here for breakfast?"
"Of course." Kaeya said. "Father won't make you go back." His brilliant blue eye stared into yours, trying to convince you.
"Really?" You looked eagerly to Crepus.
"It's far too dangerous to go home at night." And too dangerous to be at home, he left unsaid.
"Thank you Mr. Ragnvindr!" You smiled for the first time that night, rubbing the tears from your eyes. You weren’t used to this.
"They can sleep in my room." Diluc recommended. "My bed's big enough for me, Kaeya, and them!"
"'Kaeya, them, and me'" Crepus corrected. "And that sounds like an excellent idea. Is everyone ok with it?" You nodded. "Alright then. Everybody needs to brush their teeth again after eating."
Diluc groaned and you laughed. You liked it here, it was safe. 
"(Name), are you ready to talk?" He asked. 
"Yes."
"Alright. Boys, go up and brush your teeth while I speak to your friend." The boys left and you were left alone with Crepus. "Diluc told me your guardian is hurting you. Is that right?"
You waited, looking away before nodding. 
"I'm going to have to go to the knights with this information." 
You shook your head desperately. "No, they're going to hurt me!"
"Listen to me." His voice was firm but gentle. "I will not let them. I will make sure you are safe, whether it is my own men taking care of you or the knights."
You cried. Was it finally going to stop? 
"Do you want a hug?" He asked, careful not to scare you.
You dove into his arms. He was big and strong and warm and he felt like the dad you never had. You sobbed and he just held you, petting your back comfortingly.
"It's alright. No one's going to hurt you." He whispered. "Not while I'm here."
"Thank you." You mumbled.
He led you up the stairs, holding your little hand in his huge one. You walked to the boys' bathroom, the little step from when they were smaller holding open the door. Crepus gave you a clean toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. 
"The maids put out some spare sleep clothes, pick whichever ones you'd like." He gestured at the three cups by the sink, one red, one blue, one yellow. "The yellow cup is yours if you need a drink at night. Do not hesitate to find me or any of the maids if you need anything."
"Thank you Mr. Ragnvindr."
"It's nothing." He patted your back kindly. "I need to check with Adeline about breakfast."
You waved goodbye and looked through the pile of clothes, picking shorts and a soft hooded shirt with a turtle on it. 
~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~×~
Crepus came by his son's room to check in with the three of you. Diluc was right; the bed had plenty of room for all of you. 
Diluc had kicked off the blanket, a habit he had since he received his vision. He didn't touch you, except for your hand clasped in his. Kaeya curled into you, huddled in a pile of blankets, a symptom of his vision. His hand rested on your face, cooling it. Your face was relaxed, a content smile resting on your lips. 
Crepus felt a wave of pride, for his two wonderful, kind, caring sons who supported you, and for you, for being brave enough to come for help. He would do his job now and make sure you were safe. "Goodnight children, sleep tight, don't let the crystal flies bite." He closed the door, allowing a sliver of light in.
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mishapen-dear · 2 months
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bagi saw him happy but she never saw him healthy. fuckf t. and now she’ll see him healthy but he’ll probably have forgotten what makes him happy!!!
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