#he looked sooooo happy i can't deal
Text
Pink + White

pairing: charles leclerc x black fem dj!reader
summary: in which your relationship with charles gets exposed so you decide to just hard launch
face claim: uncle waffles 😋
social media au. (with a bit of writing)
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twitter
instagram
yourinstagram
liked by carlossainz55, arthurleclerc and 3,684,291 others
yourinstagram mon amour
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user did we skip a few chapters??
user i don't remember seeing this in the prologue???
leclerk MARRIAGE?!
yourinstagram i'm just as surprised as you are tbh
carlossainz55 you have no idea how hard it was to keep this secret
charles_leclerc you are very much appreciated, mate
landonoriss i took the second pic btw 🤭
yourinstagram you want a cookie?
landonoriss yes pls
yourinstagram they're in the pantry, come over whenever
lewishamilton congrats you two! sending love and light 🤍
yourinstagram thank you Lewis 🥹 and thank you for making me work during our engagement party
lewishamilton i didn't know anyone better 😭
yourinstagram i'll take that hidden compliment, old man
user user look! she’s sooooo pretty! Charles is so lucky
user and they do look like the ending of pink + white
yourinstagram this is the sweetest thing ever omg??
fan my fav dj is engaged to my fav f1 driver?? what is life? tutorial?
yourinstagram we have a couples interview coming up soon so stay tuned for that 🩷
scuderiaferrari our favourite lady in red ❤️
yourinstagram didn't want to mess up this face beat but the tears are already flowing 🥹🫂
danielricciardo so i have a slight favour....
yourinstagram lemme hard launch in peace pls
lilymhe and how the FUCK have i never seen you at races?
yourinstagram what if i told you i'm an international super spy?
user SUPER SPYYY
ynstan we lost you to a YT MAN?!
yourinstagram listen, i love this yt man very much
arthurleclerc am i allowed to gloat that i was the first to know?
yourinstagram you can gloat but don't forget you literally barged in after the proposal
arthurleclerc why'd you call me out like this?
formula1 this was not on our 2023 bingo card but we love this very much
charles_leclerc my beautiful wife
yourinstagram my darling husband
f1wagupdates
liked by ynlover, mercedesgirly and 3,345 others
f1wagupdates looks like we have a new lady joining the paddock (she’s on the left!). Her name is Y/n Y/l/n (soon to be Leclerc) and she is an international dj by profession. She is reportedly two years younger than Charles and spends most of her off days in Monaco with him. The couple revealed their relationship by Y/n showing off a diamond ring on her latest post. We wish this beautiful couples nothing but happiness!
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user are we just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?
user is the elephant in the room with us? and if you're gonna say it, just say it with your chest you loser
user an insider said that she already deals with direct insults from paddocks around the world. i can't imagine what she's about to go through
user if you scroll on her page, all you see is her wearing skimpy clothes for her job with everything showing. charles deserves better
user if anything, she serves cunt in every way possible and when you say he deserves better, you're talking about yourself? bc boy do I have news for YOU 🤣
user love a black woman from infinity to infinityyyyyy
user my god, she is gorgeous
user saw her in show once and she is TALENTEDT
user here comes his 'wives' in the comments being weird
user like he's my husband but i will GLADLY be sister wives with her
user not sure if i want her or him or both
user when i saw the rumours, i didn't know that she was THIS pretty like how did Charles pull her????
f1wagupdates that's what we're thinking
user the twitter girlies were right omg and the fact that she drives the pista had to mean they were married bc literally no one but him drives that car
user she seems so sweet, i hope nothing bad happens to her
charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, sebastianvettel and 5,838,393 others
charles_leclerc mi belle
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user how the hell did he pull her???
charles_leclerc her mom helped
sebastianvettel congratulations ❤️
charles_leclerc thank you, mate 🫂
carmenmmundt my girlfriend 😋
georgerussell63 hello??
charles_leclerc hello???
yourinstagram hey Carmen 🥰
user this hair colour on her is so pretty
maxverstappen1 the one lady that Yuki is taller than ❤️
yourinstagram i will literally burn all your rbr caps, don’t test me
maxverstappen1 what are you gonna do? hit my knees? 🤣
yourinstagram i’ll ban you from entering clubs :)
maxverstappen1 okay sorry y/n 😕
interview
"Does this hair look fine?" You looked at Charles as you flipped your hair to the front to decide on how you want to look on camera. The Monegasque man stared with you with such admiration that he didn't even realise he wasn't blinking. You nudged him to break him out of his trance that you seemed to have on him and he shook his head a little, giving you a boyish smile when he saw your amused face.
“Everything looks good on you, baby.” Charles complimented you, something he can’t go a day without doing. Your smile had closed your eyes as you held each other’s hands. The camera crew in front of you were in awe at the two of you showing each other your love.
“Okay, are you guys ready to begin?” The interviewer asked as she sat across from you two. You both nodded and scooted closer together. She had introduced herself and the both of you as her guests before you introduced yourselves as each other’s fiancés before your careers which caused the studio to laugh.
“How did you two meet?”
“Mon amour, you can start. I’ll add on here and there.” Charles encouraged, playing with the jewellery on your hand and staring at your engagement ring, all the memories of the proposal coming back to him. It was summer break for f1 and you two were in the hotel room overlooking Lake Como, feeling like you were in a movie. You had planned to get lunch then take a boat ride to a famous landmark there. When you had gotten there, it was quiet and you barely saw the photographer that Charles had hired for that day. You both stood in the huge butterfly garden, with you distracted by the flowers, he knelt down on his knee and professed his love for you, ‘pink + white’ by frank ocean playing in the background per his request. It was private yet so beautiful, calling both your families who knew and Arthur surprising you after the proposal.
“It’s a cute story if I do say so myself. I had taken my mom to Monaco as it has always been our dream and I was finally able to provide that for her. We were sitting in this pretty cafe in Monte Carlo and to be fair, we were gossiping and laughing so of course people would hear us but we weren’t that loud.” You smiled at the memory, seeing everything as you spoke.
“All during our lunch, Charles and Arthur, my brother in law, were sitting next to us and they were in their own realm too.” You said, giving him a look so that he could say his version of the story.
“Well um like Y/n said, I’m with my brother and I kept trying to hear what accent she had because it was beautiful. So I turn to her and ask her where she was from and we just started talking as her mom and my brother are waiting for us to finish. Her mom even said that we were meant to be because when we met, the dress she was wearing was the same colour as my eyes.” Charles spoke, constantly looking between you and the camera.
“He then asked to take me on a date the very next day and he said that he wanted to give me the universe and would be happy if i spent time with him, even if it were a short while. Three years later, here we are.” You concluded, showing your ring to the camera as you couldn’t stop smiling.
Just the beginning for the Ferrari boy and his queen.
#formula one x black reader#x black fem reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x black reader#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 x you#x black reader#Spotify
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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xiv
series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |
chapter summary: The final chapter
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
words: 9.2k (I love being insane)
chapter warnings: SMUT (18+only) - unprotected sex. Insecurity/Jealousy. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, blood and injuries. Alcohol & Marijuana use. Fluff. Bisexual reader (happy pride ya'll!). As always please dm for more specifics.
a/n: This could probs use another round of proofreading but it would've delayed this even longer sooooo.... Here we go! I feel pretty emo right now and I might make a more in-depth post about my thoughts at a later date bc I just finished writing this in a hot daze so I can't put all my thoughts coherently together. But I just wanna say thank you to everyone who supported and gave love to this story. This is by far the most popular fic I've ever written, and I don't really know how? Or what I did to deserve all the love but I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me through all the angst and delayed updates and everything. I'll never forget you and I'll never forget Joel x Reader!! Thank you so much, I hope the finale lives up to your expectations! ❤️
**I DO NOT HAVE A TAGLIST. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **
I’m not the kind of man who tends to socialize
I seem to lean on old familiar ways….
-May 16, 2024-
“Are you sure you’re okay if I leave you here alone?”
Ethan’s voice jolts you out of a daze, and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’d dozed off while sitting upright in a patio chair, the cheesy romance novel you’d been reading still lying open on your lap. Turning to look over your shoulder, you find him standing with one foot on the deck, and one foot still inside, cut in half by the sliding glass door.
Clearing your throat, you straighten up and nod. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”
Ethan studies you carefully, like he’s not entirely convinced. He’s been hesitant to leave you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary – only stepping away from the house to go on patrol shifts and to bring home meals from the mess hall. Recovery has made you feel like a burden to him – to all your friends in the community, really. Everyone….well, almost everyone, has been supportive, but you’ve never been comfortable being openly vulnerable.
Unfortunately, it’s too hard to deny the pain that you’ve been in since the accident, the trouble you have getting around, the exhaustion that clings no matter how many long naps and twelve-hour nights of sleep you get. According to the doctors, being so tired is just part of recovery – rest is important, but the concoction of pain medication you’ve been prescribed only makes your drowsiness and confusion worse. It had been a big deal that tonight you’d mustered the energy to drag yourself outside to sit in the fresh air.
“I’m fine,” you assure Ethan, once again. “Have fun on your date.”
“It’s not really a date,” he says, almost a little too quickly. “We’re just hanging out.”
“Right,” you say, matter-of-factly. “Do I know who this person is?”
Ethan looks at his feet. “You remember the day this shit happened?” he asks, gesturing towards you. “Before you left on patrol, the girl that said hi to me? It’s her. Her name is Alex.”
“Oh?” you tilt your head, give him a small smile. “She was cute. How’d you ask her out?”
“Well,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have…uh, gotten some advice.”
“You didn’t think to ask me?” you’re able to muster up a small smile.
“I would’ve, I just…..” he shakes his head. “It seemed stupid…with everything you have going on.”
“It’s not stupid,” you say, feeling a wave of guilt. Even though he’s the one looking after you, you haven’t spoken to him much about anything going on in his life. In fact, you haven’t really spoken to anyone in a long time, beyond thank you’s and blanket statements like I’m doing better. You feel disconnected, and more lonely than ever. If you ever get enough energy to leave your house, you expect most of the people in the community to have forgotten you exist. “Who’d you ask?”
“Uhm….” Ethan runs a hand through his long dark hair, shifts his weight. “….I’ve been assigned on patrol with Joel Miller a lot lately….so….”
You almost laugh when he uses Joel’s full name. Joel has been such a huge part of your life – sometimes the hero, sometimes the villain – that you don’t need to hear his last name to know who Ethan’s talking about. You could know a thousand Joel’s, and he’d still be the first person that came to mind. But Joel is still a sore subject, and Ethan knows it, which is why you suspect he’s avoided telling you this in the first place. You feel your eyebrows knit together, only able to let out an unenthused. “Oh.”
“I just, you know….he’s a guy. And it sounds like you even liked him at one point so….he must know something, right?”
“That was a long time ago,” you say quickly, regardless of the fact that he’s right.
It’s probably not fair to blame Joel for everything that has happened to you. You know this, deep down. But you’ve been so helpless and isolated since you’ve woken up in that hospital bed that you’re desperate to find someone to hold accountable. And Joel hadn’t visited you in the hospital once. By this point, he’s abandoned you so many times that your resentment feels justified, even if your current state is not directly his fault. Because it was you, after all, who had walked into the path of those men, too angry to think clearly, too weak to take them down alone. The only person you can blame is yourself, and you really don’t want to.
“Did he tell you to take her out on patrol, make her cry, and almost get her killed?”
Ethan clicks his tongue, looks down, almost ashamed. “No. He did not.”
“You should be careful with Joel,” you warn.
“I was…” Ethan says. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he’s actually alright.”
“So you’re friends with him now,” you state, hoping he refutes. But instead, he looks up at you, frowns, and lifts his chin.
“What happened to you was horrible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yeah, maybe you think he’s the reason you almost died…. I don’t know the specifics so you can believe whatever you want. But I know that he’s the reason you’re still alive.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and you feel tears brimming your eyes before he continues. “He brought you back here, he donated his blood, he-”
“What?” you cut him off.
“What do you mean, what?” Ethan asks. “He was the only person there who had your blood type. You would’ve died if he didn’t. They didn’t tell you this?”
“Whatever it took to make him feel less guilty, sounds like,” you say, dismissively.
Something hot burns in your veins, something that must have always been there since you woke up, but you’re only feeling it now. It’s unsettling, Joel being a part of you that way. Your lives had already seemed intertwined enough already. But now, he’s inescapable.
“Well, he stayed by your side every night while you were asleep. Fuck, I mean, he was probably there just as often as I was. He made sure I ate, and slept and showered and… and he never once asked for anything in return. He cares about you as much as I do, clearly, so I don’t think it’s wrong to think he’s a good guy….”
You must not care about me that much, you want to say, but you stop yourself. Because it’s not true, and you’d only be saying it to hurt him. You have nothing to defend yourself with, no way to convince him otherwise, and so you just stare at him until he shakes his head and slips back inside.
Ethan is stubborn, he always has been. And it’s a special kind of stubbornness, fueled by anger – so common in most of the young people you meet these days. You understand why they’re all like this. When you’re robbed of your childhood – you get stuck there….waiting….. Like someday you’ll have a chance to do it all over again, regardless of how obvious it is that you won’t.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
-May 25, 2024-
Things get better, albeit slowly. You begin to wean off the pain medication, which makes you more alert. It’s still difficult to leave your house, but you can move around it more easily, and you don’t spend all your days sleeping. Luckily, you aren’t as stir-crazy as you’d been expecting.
One afternoon, Ellie Williams shows up on your doorstep with a bag full of groceries.
“Maria wanted me to bring these to you,” she says when you open the door. “She told me to tell you she’ll be over tomorrow, but she wanted me to give you these to tide you over.”
“That’s very nice. Thank you for bringing them to me,” you try to take the bag from her hands, but she steps back just a little, like she’s unsure if you should be carrying anything. You let your hands drop to your sides. “Would you like to come in?”
Ellie hesitates for a split second, adjusting the bag in her arms, and then nods. “Sure.”
Stepping to the side, you allow her into the home. Because of how warm it is outside, you’ve opened all the windows to let the breeze through.
“Sorry for the mess,” you say, Ellie following you into the living room. There are stacks of books and pill bottles with instructions scattered on your countertop. You haven’t swept the floors in awhile and all the hard surfaces are covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s not really that bad, but you don’t have the energy or strength to be on your feet for long – let alone to clean the house.
“I don’t mind,” Ellie says. “It’s not even that bad. I don’t know why older people worry about leaving your house messy and shit….no offense.”
“There was a time it used to matter,” you tell her. “And I see where you’re coming from, but my thing is – if you’re going to live somewhere, you should do what you can to make yourself feel comfortable.”
Ellie purses her lips, as if you’ve made a good point but she doesn’t know how to answer. Instead, you continue. “Can I get you anything? Water?”
“No, I’m okay,” she puts the bag on your kitchen counter.
“You can sit if you’d like,” you tell her. “I just need a moment to put these away.”
When you walk into your living room a few minutes later, she’s hovering near your record player, looking through the vinyls. The turntable was already in the house when you’d arrived years ago, but it was buried in the closet and broken. Ethan had managed to fix it after a little troubleshooting and scavenging for parts. Now, you both were always looking for records to bring home, and had amassed quite the eclectic collection – jazz, funk, hip-hop, and everything in between.
“Wow,” Ellie says, running her fingers along the shelved records. “You found all these?”
“Some of them were already here. But yeah. Ethan and I are always on the lookout on patrol. I can play you something. What do you like?”
“Eighties, I think,” she says. “But…I also haven’t heard as much.”
“Well here,” you thumb through the records, pull out a worn copy of Speaking In Tongues. “How about some Talking Heads?”
You pass the record over to her, and she stares at you blankly. It’s only then that you realize — she’s never used a record player before. There’s a familiar pang of sadness before you show her how.
“Are you feeling better?” Ellie eyes you wearily once the music starts, and you settle onto the couch, feeling a little worn out after being on your feet.
“Yes,” you say. “I’m older now, so it seems like healing takes a lot more time.”
Ellie nods, then bobs her head to the music a little. “This is better than most of the stuff Joel likes.”
“Oh yeah,” you smirk, and instinctually, you recall his enthusiasm for all things old-school country. “I remember that,” you say softly.
With so much time on your hands lately, you’ve found yourself thinking of Joel a lot, reminiscing on the time you’d spent with him and Sarah. What Ethan had told you about him staying by your side was definitely making you reconsider your assessment of him, even if you were still hesitant. It was probably a trap to think you’d ever be able to feel those things with him again, but if remembering them brought you comfort, you weren’t going to resist it.
“You’re more than welcome to come over to listen anytime,” you offer, and she nods excitedly.
Ellie stays for longer than you expect. You talk a fair bit. She tells you about what she’s learning in school – but mostly how ‘fucking useless’ it is. She wanders around your living room and pokes through your stuff without asking, but you don’t think to stop her – you just answer her questions and let her be curious.
Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and she excuses herself to go home, insisting that Joel will ‘fucking kill her’ if she’s out too late. Even though you’re exhausted after entertaining her for a few hours, you find it feels nice. Being on house arrest, essentially, had left your starved for connection outside Maria and Ethan.
You see her out the door before returning to your refrigerator to look for something to eat. Ethan will be back from patrol any minute, so it may be nice to make him something even if you have almost no energy.
But when there’s another knock on your front door, you’re shocked to see who you find staring on your porch.
Joel.
You almost forget to speak at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since your accident and he might as well have moved away from Jackson since you hadn’t seen him at all.
“Hey,” you say, tentatively, taking him in. He seems preoccupied – cheeks flushed, hair rumpled, and out of breath, like he had run all the way to get here.
“Have you seen Ellie?” he asks, not even greeting you in return. “I’ve looked everywhere and I-
“You just missed her,” you cut him off, not because you’re trying to dismiss him, but because he's clearly distressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on your way over.”
Joel sighs, eyes closing in relief. “Thank God.” For a second, you glimpse the frazzled and overworked father you used to know. “She stayed out too late, had me worried sick.”
“She’s fine,” you say. “Although she did say you might kill her if she didn’t get home soon.”
Joel gives you an almost imperceptible smile, but seems mostly irritated by Ellie’s suggestion. “I would do no such thing.” He shakes his head and takes two steps backwards. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to be a bother.”
Your mind floats to a memory of Joel on your front porch, late getting home from work and looking for Sarah, and you can’t help but feel a bit of sadness and longing for a simpler time, a surge of affection.
Joel is halfway down your front porch steps when you speak again. “You aren’t bothering me.”
He pauses, turns to look over his shoulder. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, and you step outside, letting the door fall shut behind you and remaining huddled against the siding, and he turns to face you fully, sighing. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, actually….”
“Oh…really?” you can’t keep the surprise from your voice, and he notices.
“Yeah,” Joel rubs his fingers together, a nervous habit of his you know all too well. “Yeah. I- well, I wanted to apologize to you.”
You’re so startled by the words you can’t answer right away. But the split second of hesitation causes Joel to continue, looking to fill the empty space.
“I’ve been waiting to find the right thing to say….but it doesn’t seem like that’ll ever happen. I’m not even sure I know where to start.”
“Oh,” is all you can manage, still taken aback. The only thing that doesn’t surprise you about his admission is the sincerity. You could say a lot of things about Joel, but he isn’t a liar. He always tells the truth. Maybe it’s why he pulled away from you to begin with. It’s easier than the alternative – spending time with you, which would force him to be honest. For how much you’ve changed, you’d probably do the same.
But the thing with Joel is that you’re exhausted. You’re tired of the back and forth, of the push and pull, of the constant struggle to hold your care over each other's head, hoping the other will break first. Maybe this is a fresh start.
You step closer to him, and you see him study the way you move. Of course, you’re trying to look strong, but he can surely sense the weakness. He’d always been good at that, better than any of the others. Your hand comes to rest on the porch railing for support.
But…..
There’s that voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you this is a mistake. The one that reminds of the pain you’ve often earned through vulnerability. It likes to think it’s served you, protected you, and it has. But it’s not always right.
“I suppose I owe you an apology, too,” you say. “At the very least I should thank you for what you did.”
Joel shakes his head, dismissively, but looks to where your hand rests on the porch railing, looks back up to you as he reaches out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
His hand clasps over yours, and to anyone else, this might be nothing. It’s so innocent, unassuming. But the effect it has on you is palpable. He squeezes once, and you flip your hand over, squeezing his back, giving him a gentle smile. “I am too.”
Joel’s eyes fill with a warmth you haven’t seen in twenty years, and your stomach flutters, your heart races. A part of yourself that you’d considered long dead seems to rouse.“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“I told Ellie we’d go to the mess hall together,” Joel says. “Otherwise I would.”
You blink once, and Joel sees it, immediately continuing on. “But maybe Ellie and I can come another time, join you and Ethan?”
“Yeah. He’d like that,” you say. “That might be nice.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
-June 20, 2024-
You think that at the end of a long winter, bears must hate coming out of hibernation.
It must suck. They spend months sleeping, doing almost nothing, and then suddenly they’re forced to function again – to hunt, to eat, to roam, to survive and socialize. You imagine there has to be a learning curve, a desire to crawl back into their den and never leave again.
Or maybe you could be wrong, and they love it. And you’re just a wimp who hates feeling uncomfortable.
All you know is that you’re huddled in the back corner of the Tipsy Bison, nursing a whiskey – and it’s the last place you want to be.
You’re overwhelmed.
And despite the fact that you regularly used to attend community events, it’s been so long since you've been out in Jackson that you feel like you don’t belong. To some extent, you’ve always felt this – too hardened by the outside world to fully assimilate, especially when the town throws dances. But in the past, you at least attempted to convince yourself otherwise.
Two weeks back, the doctors had cleared you to go about your daily activities as normal – within reason, of course – but you hadn’t exactly jumped at the opportunity. Tonight, Ethan had accused you of becoming ‘antisocial’ and ‘reclusive’. You had agreed to attend – but only to beat those allegations. So far, you are definitely not.
You scan the crowd, taking in the people spinning around the dance floor. Some of the women are wearing dresses. You can’t help but feel a little envious of how easily they’re able to perform femininity, which is something you’d given up on a while ago. It hadn’t exactly served you before arriving in Jackson, and you predict it would be humiliating to start trying now. After all the things you’d experienced, you were left marred with scars and wrinkles, stretch marks and loose skin. Since then, you’ve remained loyal to the combination of men’s denim and tank tops with flannel-button downs overtop.
It doesn’t always stop the men in the community from descending like vultures. You might be the last pick – there are plenty others who are younger and prettier – but you’re still an option. Bea, your old partner, had always theorized that some men were particularly drawn to sapphic women, that it was ‘the ultimate challenge’. Maybe there is some truth to her theory, but you like men….sometimes. So there is always a part of you that yearns for their validation, for as many times as you tell yourself you don’t want it. But it never feels good to get it after you’ve watched them exhaust all their other options.
It’s pathetic, but it makes you think of Joel. He and Ellie had been over to yours and Ethans last week for a nice dinner, and you had tried to gauge whether there was any romantic connection between you still. Occasionally, you’d caught him looking at you with a wistful smile, but he could have been lost in thought. It’s not like you needed that from him or anything, but it might be useful information. After all this time, Joel is still so handsome, and probably has an impressive selection of potential partners here in Jackson – women of all ages. You hope he’s not here tonight – you can’t see much besides the dance floor at this point – because the thought of him cozied up to anyone here, combined with the acrid taste of the drink in your hand, makes you want to gag.
You take another look around the room. Eugene, your partner in crime – quite literally – is walking towards you, which helps quell your spiraling mind . If you talk to him, say hello to Tommy and Maria, maybe Ethan will see the effort you’re making and you can sneak out without having to deal with anyone. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot. The sooner you can get home tonight, the better.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel can’t stop staring.
He knows it’s impolite. He knows that he’s not being subtle. He knows that if any other person in this bar followed his eyeline, they’d pick up on what he was doing in an instant. But every minute he doesn’t get called out for it, he becomes more and more emboldened.
It’s the first dance he’s ever been to in Jackson, and the only reason he’s here is to placate Ellie and Tommy. But even they have abandoned him in favor of better companions – his brother is deep in conversation with Maria, sitting across from him in a booth, and Ellie is out on the dance floor dancing with one of her new friends, Dina.
Joel just can’t help himself. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but he can’t shake the feeling of a soft hand clasped within his own – the first time he’d felt any semblance of hope since arriving here. Tommy and Maria had already slyly let him know about all the women who were interested, but he couldn’t bring himself to entertain their advances. There’s only one he wants, and she won’t even look in his direction.
When he’d first noticed you, you were whispering with Eugene on the opposite side of the dance floor. According to Tommy, you spend a fair bit of your time with the old man, which Joel initially thought to mean that you had some sort of entanglement. At first, Joel thought that couldn’t be possible. But you were deep in focus as you listened to Eugene’s words, nodding and leaning in closer and closer, and Joel thinks Tommy might be right. He wants to understand what you see in this man – tall and unkempt, covered in tattoos with long, graying hair and a beard to match. But Joel catches himself in his judgment, he’s probably just as unappealing – not just because of how he’s aged, but because of how horrible he’s been to you in general.
The next time Joel sees you, you’re at the bar, chatting with a man who Maria had introduced him to not long ago, a resident who is new in town. Joel had been too busy focusing on the fact that he’d been in Jackson long enough to not be its newest resident that he couldn’t remember his name. He wishes he had, so he could keep tabs on him. Of course, he can’t blame the man for being drawn to you – Joel knows very well that you’re hard to miss in a crowd.
Still, Joel bristles when you both step away from the bar, and the man’s hand lands just above your sacrum. He actually finds himself tensing up, resisting the urge to intervene, because it’d likely only make you angry. Plus, maybe you are interested. That question is answered quickly when you reach behind your to clasp the man's hand and place it back at his side. Where it belongs, he thinks.
“Joel!”
He snaps his attention to what’s in front of him – interrupted, and probably for good measure, lest he get himself too worked up. Ethan approaches with a girl his age, her arm linked through his. Joel stands to greet them.
The terse understanding between himself and Ethan while you were still in the hospital had somehow turned into a friendship, especially after they’d begun getting paired up on patrol. Ethan reaches out for Joel’s hand to dap him up, slinging an arm briefly over his shoulder.
“How’s it going, kid?”
“Good, good,” Ethan nods, pulling back, and gestures to the girl next to him. “Joel, this is Alex.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Ethan’s told me all about you.”
“Really?” Joel asks, feeling a little bewildered.
“Only good things,” Alex says quickly, as if she senses his apprehension. Ethan puts his arm around her waist. Joel recalls a few weeks back when he’d asked for advice on how to ask out a girl. Joel hadn’t pried at the time, but now he seems to understand, and is surprised by the swell of pride he feels. “Ethan says you’re a fucking badass,”she giggles after she swears.
Joel looks over at Ethan. “I don’t know about that.”
He shrugs, changes the subject. “Since when do you come to these things?” Ethan asks.
“Ellie dragged me out,” Joel answers.
“I did the same with my aunt,” Ethan chuckles. “But now I can’t find her, and I’m pretty sure she’s escaped.”
“Oh, is she here?” Joel plays dumb, like he hasn’t been aware of exactly where you have been all night. “I haven’t seen her.”
“I think she was with Eugene earlier,” Alex has to stand on her toes to speak into Ethan’s ear. Joel watches Ethan’s nose wrinkle.
“Do you know Eugene at all?” Ethan turns to Joel. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on there, but she won’t say anything.”
Joel wishes that he had more information. “Tommy says they seem close.”
“I know that,” Ethan says. “I wish she would just be honest with me. It’s not like I would be mad. Whatever,” he shakes his head. “We can talk about it another time. I just want to find her so I can introduce her to Alex.”
“We should say hi to Tommy and Maria first,” Alex says, and Ethan nods in agreement before saying goodbye to him. Joel claps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him, and Alex gives him a shy smile in acknowledgement.
Focusing back on the crowd, Joel realizes that you’ve vanished in the short span of his last interaction. Maybe you’d rejected that guy, and then he’d retaliated. Maybe you’d gone home with Eugene. Joel shakes his hand. It’s none of his business. He doesn’t need to get involved. It’s not his job to look after you, regardless of how much better he feels when he does. Old instincts. He can’t help himself.
He settles on watching Ellie and Dina spin each other around on the dance floor. Eventually, Tommy and Maria, then Ethan and Alex all trickle out of the booth to go get another round or head to dance. Joel stands to release the booth to someone who actually needs it – and is left in the corner, nursing a nearly empty beer that’s now flat and warm. He looks towards his family and friends, but for some reason, he still feels alone.
Joel isn’t sure how long he stands sulking, but he starts when someone approaches from behind.
“Having fun?”
You’re a pace or two back, one thumb hooked through a belt loop, a whiskey in your opposite hand. Joel looks back at the crowd a moment, then at the ground. “No.”
“Neither am I,” you commiserate, stepping alongside him.
Joel considers offering that Ethan was looking for you, but selfishly does not want to give you a reason to leave, so he stays quiet. You observe the dance floor like he is, smiling slightly at the sight of Ethan and Alex dancing. The flannel you’re wearing over a gray tank hangs loosely off one shoulder, and Joel wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin. You take your last sip of whiskey, bring a finger to swipe under your bottom lip, and Joel wishes he knew what you might taste like right now. He scolds himself for fantasizing.
You don’t speak either, and you stand in silence for a while, until you eventually pop your hip, shifting closer to him. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’re already standing so close that your arm gets pressed up against his. Neither of you acknowledge the contact, but Joel is acutely aware of how your skin burns hot against his own. He feels comforted by the affection, even if it’s unintentional.
“Want to leave?” Joel asks, and can hardly believe that the words came out of his mouth, even if he wanted them to.
You look over at him, not bothering to hide your surprise, but your expression evens out quickly, and you give him a single nod. “Yeah.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel’s still not convinced this is real. It feels too much like a dream, the weather outside is so pleasantly warm it feels like he’s floating as you walk down the street. He had never expected you to agree to leave with him, and now he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.
The greater distance you put between yourselves and the bar, the quieter the town is. Most of Jackson’s residents are at the dance, save for the guards at the front gate and the handful of people that had been mingling just outside.
He heads in the general direction of the neighborhood, even though he lives on a different street.
“What are we supposed to do now?” you wonder out loud, and you sound a little incredulous, like you’re equally as shocked to find yourself beside him. The question carries a bit more weight than it would have coming from anyone else.
Joel contemplates. He’s not sure what he wants from you – there are a lot of things, actually – but he doesn’t know if he really deserves any of them. For now, your companionship is more than enough.
“You’re welcome to come back to mine,” he offers. “But if you’re looking to keep drinking, all the booze is back at the bar.”
“I’m good.” You shake your head like you’re uninterested, but look over at him with a sparkle in your eye. “I have something better….”
You reach into the pocket of your flannel and produce a rolled joint between two fingers, looking over your shoulder. “Those dances are usually terrible, so I always come prepared.”
Joel can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and the sheepish grin he gets in return makes his cheeks feel warm. “Where’d you even get that?”
“You’ve never been on patrol with Eugene, have you?” you ask. “He has a place just out of town where he grows it. I’ve been helping him since we first got paired up, and in exchange, I get to sample the supply.”
Of course. Joel would’ve never imagined that was the reason you were so close with Eugene, but it suddenly makes incredible sense. He shakes his head in a combination of relief and amusement. “You really haven’t changed.”
“Oh, I’m sure I have,” you answer, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground. “But of course I haven’t shaken all my bad habits.”
“That’s not true,” Joel mutters.
“Well, you haven’t changed either, for as much as you’ve tried to convince me,” you nudge him gently, offering him the joint. “What do you think?”
Joel plucks it from between your fingers and puts it between his lips. “I think I have a lighter at home.”
“Sounds perfect.”
In the front hallway of his house, you slip out of your tennis shoes, shuffling behind him in your socks, pausing occasionally to study some of the doodles that Ellie had drawn and hung on the walls – it wasn’t exactly a priority to decorate these days, but they certainly livened up the place. He knows how much Ellie likes you, despite the fact that she doesn’t gush, but the odd comment here and there says as much. Joel remembers how difficult it had been to keep Sarah away, and Ellie now is no different. He doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, either.
You sit next to Joel on his wicker couch, curling your feet up under you as he lights the joint and study him while he takes the first few puffs. He does it without thinking. That’s how soft Jackson has made him. Normally, he’d be too stressed about being out of his wits. But he can’t see how hypervigilance has served him since settling down. He feels safe here, and somehow especially because he’s with you.
When he passes the joint your way, you look at him wistfully. “Old times,” you say with a grin.
Joel nods as he exhales, coughing. “Old times.”
“Oh yeah,” you say, as if you just remembered something. “You can’t tell Ethan about this. He doesn’t know, and he will give me shit about it. I need him to take me seriously.”
Joel shakes his head. “Well, you know, it sounds like he and Tommy both think you and Eugene are together.”
“What?” your head jerks forward in shock, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, no. Do people think that?”
“I’m just sayin’,” Joel wants to mention how he had seen you whispering to each other at the bar earlier, but then realizes it’d give a bit too much away. “That’s what they think.”
“Well....historically speaking I might’ve liked older men…. but not that old.”
Joel purses his lips. “You’ve lived here awhile, huh?” When you nod, he continues. “Has no one caught your eye?”
“Uhm….not really. But….” you trail off, looking into Joel’s backyard. “To be completely honest, I don't think about that much these days. I guess I feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. I don’t want to push it.”
Joel understands, and nods pensively.
“What about you?” you ask.
“I guess I feel the same.”
That causes you to smile a little bit, look over at him. “I bet you already know this. But the women here would line up down the block for you.”
Joel can’t help but roll his eyes, though he wonders if you would, too. Even if you did like him, that didn’t seem like your style.
“I’m serious. I’ve heard the things they whisper behind your back. All their fantasies about you are pretty creative...”
“Fantasies?” He grimaces. He imagines none of them know anything about who he really is. You’re the closest thing, and all he’s done is hurt you. “I’m sure you were quick to set them straight.”
“I don’t say anything,” you say, then continue on, a little quieter, looking at him from under your lashes. “I like to keep you to myself.”
Joel isn’t sure how to respond to that. You have every right to tell all of them that you were once together, and all the ways he’s hurt you since. Yet for some reason, you’ve chosen to protect him.
“So….all this time….” you wonder. “You had to have been with other people, right?”
Joel doesn’t think to hold back. “I had a partner for a long time. Tess. First, it was all business, I helped her smuggle things in and out of the Boston QZ…and then, I don’t know….we got along, we trusted each other and…” Joel trails off, hoping you’d put together the rest before he has to go into too much detail. “She was real fuckin’ tough. Scared me a little at first. You would’ve liked her.”
“Well, we already have one thing in common. What happened?”
“She’s the whole reason I ended up out here….with Ellie,” Joel explains. “But I lost her a little over a year ago.”
He hopes you don’t ask how. Maybe someday he’d be willing to go into detail, but talking about it generally is hard enough as it is. But fortunately, you seem to pick up on his hesitance. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say softly.
He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. To her. I should've....after Sarah died I didn’t want to get attached, so I kept her at arms length and I... I wished I hadn’t in the end. It only made things worse.”
“Yeah,” you nod, look down. “I’ve made that mistake before.”
Joel doesn’t want to linger any longer on the memory. “What about you? Were you with anyone?”
“Uhm, yeah,” you fidget, looking uncomfortable. “I had a partner….for like ten years."
Ten years? He had been with Tess for more, but something about that information feels jarring. He’s shocked Tommy never told him this. Did Tommy even know? Suddenly, it dawns on Joel everything that could’ve happened to you since you’ve been apart. Entire lifetimes. And he’d said such horrible things when you’d fought. He remembers your face when he’d told you that you didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. Maybe you had. He’d been so cruel and inconsiderate just because he was uncomfortable.
His throat feels tight, almost scared to learn anymore. “What…what was his name?”
“Well, Bea….was her name.”
Joel is sure he doesn't hide the shock well. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”
“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I did either. Well, I sort of did, but I was too young I think when I first realized to make any sense of it, but…. I met her and…yeah,” then, you smirk. “I mean, I went to an all-girls school and I had a really bad relationship with my dad so…it definitely makes sense. ”
Joel considers this, smiles along with you. “But anyways. Her and I met shortly after my brother died and it was kind of the same. We kept each other alive, things developed from there. We ended up getting involved with this group who lived in the middle of nowhere. That’s a whole other story, but…” you wave your hand. “I loved her, and I lost her right before Ethan and I got here.”
Joel sees all the pain in your eyes, and wishes he could say something to take it all away. He knows he can’t. You look back out into the woods in his backyard, take a deep breath, and reach back towards the joint that you had put out not long before, lighting it again. Joel gets the sense that both of you had done the most amount of sharing possible for the time being.
“Look at us,” you take another drag before passing it over. “Old times.”
“Old times,” he repeats, a smile working its way onto his face.
“This used to be my favorite thing to do with you.”
“It was nice,” Joel agrees….hesitates before continuing. “But I can think of some things I liked better.” He gives you a knowing look, and you roll your eyes, laughing easily at his joke. It feels so good to make you laugh, to see you smile. Why had he spent so much time resisting?
“Touche.”
What happens next spills out of Joel so quickly he doesn’t think to stop it. “I tried to look for you….after all this happened. I didn’t have Sarah anymore, and I thought maybe….I don’t know. It was the only thing that kept me going for a while.”
“I did too,” you confess. “But…I was with Vincent and Ethan, and I felt like I couldn’t leave them alone for something that might just be…. I always hoped you both made it. And I’m so sorry she’s gone. I really did love her.”
“I know you did,” Joel reaches out to take your hand. “I know. And I shouldn’t have said those things I did. I’m still not sure why you’ve been so patient with me.”
“Hmm,” you shift so that you’re closer to him. “You waited around for me back then. It’s only fair that I’d wait around for you now. I want you in my life. I don’t care what that looks like. But it’s too hard to forget about a person that you loved.”
Joel wants as much from you as you’re willing to give, and he can’t tear his gaze away from you. But he wants you to see him, all of him, before he takes it.
“I’ve let a lot of people down. I’ve done a lot of h-horrible things,” his voice cracks, and tears well in his eyes.
“I have, too, you know? Those things still live with me. But I think what matters is who we are now,” you reach out, fingertips brushing the scar on his temple, and Joel swears that even if you don’t know the story behind it, you can see right through him. “And I know who you are.”
“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.”
“You won’t,” you say. “No more than anyone else has. And if it makes you feel better…when people hurt me, I’ve gotten pretty good at hurting them back.”
“If I do, I’d hope you would.”
“I will. I promise,” your thumb strokes his cheek, marveling at him. “I would suggest a blood oath or something but….I heard we kind of already did that…”
He’s given you every warning, every barrier, and you’re still here. He can’t believe it, and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. “Come here.”
He kisses you. He wishes that he could be slow and tender and gentle like he used to be – and certainly he’s still capable, but he realizes that he’s been depriving himself of something he wanted for so long, and can’t seem to control himself.
Your hands land on the side of his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Maybe you’re somewhat taken aback by his urgency, you hum against his lips, but you don’t resist at all. Joel maneuvers you so you’re straddling his thighs, and he grips your hips, your ass, coasts his hands up your side. Your lips part in a moan, and he slips his tongue into your mouth.
For a while, he stays there, savors the taste of you, whiskey and smoke still lingering on your lips. His hands cup your jaw, feel your body, grip and squeeze and stroke and you let him, continue to let him. He tries everything, wondering if you’ll tell him to stop, if you’ll decide you’ve had too much, but you don’t. Then again, he should know by now that you’re a woman who knows what she wants. He just finds it’s hard to believe that he’s the thing you want.
You break away from him, just a little, and Joel presses his nose to your neck, kisses your pulse point.
“Should we go upstairs?” your voice is raspy and breathless. “Will Ellie be home soon?”
“Probably not for a while. We can be quick.”
“Hopefully not too quick,” you raise your eyebrows. Joel can’t help but laugh a little. He relishes in the way your hands rake up and down his arms, exploring him, touching him. Of course he wants you, but even just this would be enough. He’d be content with less, he hadn’t realized how starved of affection he’d been.
You’re able to pry yourselves off one another to make it up the stairs, and Joel guides you with a hand to the small of your back. When you get to his bedroom, he opens the door, but stops you before you go inside.
“Hold on,” Joel mutters, winding one arm around your waist, the other behind your knee.
“Joel, what-no, you’ll–” he pulls you into his arms.
“Do you really think I’m not strong enough?”
“I didn’t say that,” you chuckle as he carries you over the threshold and into the bedroom, breath puffing against him before he lays you down on the bed.
When he hovers over you, your fingers wind into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. He savors every sweet sigh he’s able to pull from you, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips. You’re so pliant and open beneath his body, it makes it easier to not feel guilty about what he’s doing. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, you’ve said as much, but it might take some time before the feeling will die completely. Hopefully, he has enough time with you to see it off completely.
Clothes are removed quickly, intentionally, as you both bare more and more of yourself to each other. And while he wishes he could’ve been there to see the ways in which your body has changed, you’re still as beautiful as ever.
Joel, however, is hesitant to give himself away completely. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he hesitates.
“I don’t know if-” he pauses. “If you want to see all that.”
“Joel,” you stare at him knowingly, kneeling across from him as he stands at the edge of the bed. “I do.”
So he releases your hand, and lets you pull it over his head. Carefully, you study him, his body littered with scars. He knows he’s not as in shape as you remember. These days, he hardly can look at himself in the mirror after a shower. He expects you to be disgusted, or at least see it flit across your face before you compose yourself, but you don’t. Your fingertips drag through the smattering of hair on his chest and down his torso, tracing several prominent scars – each one with a story – but you linger on the one at his abdomen, frowning.
He sees the question on your face, but you don’t ask it. Instead, you return to press yourself against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here….”
You kiss him, then, and Joel can only kiss you back.
Joel isn’t the only one with battle scars. Some of them he feels are his fault, but you seem less self-concious about them, which gives him a surprising amount of confidence. Maybe it’s just a reality of what happens when you make it this long.
When you’re finally bare beneath him, he admires how you look, stretched out and waiting, chest heaving and shivering with anticipation. He slides his hand between your legs – feels you already wet and warm, sinking two fingers inside. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, back arcing off the bed when you sigh out his name. Joel.
He’d forgotten how nice it felt to hear that.
Joel is already thinking about what he’d like to do to you next time. He’d be more careful, more patient. He’d bury his face between your thighs to see if you tasted as good as he remembers, he’d let your fingers curl into his hair. But right now you both seem desperate for the same thing.
He pumps his cock a few times with his hand, he can’t remember the last time he’d been this hard – the last time he’s wanted anyone this badly. Even with Tess, it had always felt like the both of them were hurrying to scratch an itch, her eyes would wander like she was thinking of other people, and maybe he was, too.
Joel lines himself up with your slick cunt, teases you a little, and you roll your body down to meet him, gasping when his blunt head slides in – just a little.
He can’t hold back. You practically suck him in, so tight and hot around him he finds it immediately overwhelming, but he doesn’t even think to pull out. Only when he’s fully seated inside you, and given you a chance to adjust, does he start to move.
It’s euphoric. You’re both older now, more mature, but he still remembers all the things you liked, even if it takes a moment for him to find the spot inside you that makes you cry out, legs wrapping around his hips.
Unlike before, you don’t bother trying to hide from him. You kiss him, hold him, touch him, look him in the eyes, tell him how good he feels – you don’t hold back. Joel relishes every word you say, clings to the praise and gives it back. Your lashes flutter when he tells you how pretty you look.
He can think of nothing else other than bringing you pleasure, can tell you’re getting close when you begin to rut against him, and he reaches down to let the pads of his fingers slide over your clit.
When you come, you whine his name, lock your lips with his own and he swallows your moans. The feeling of you so impossibly tight and wet and pulsing and squeezing him so tightly has him following closely after.
His head is still buried in the crook of your neck when you speak again. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
The second Joel pulls out, he starts missing how close he felt to you. But you fix that by rolling over onto your stomach, curling up at his side, head on his chest, and arm across his stomach.
“Joel. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”
He’s far from it. But he’s starting to think if you say it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. He turns his head to kiss you gently, slowly. “So are you.”
“We can do this again, right?” you ask.
“Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”
“Good,” you settle back against him, and very slowly, he dozes off with you right beside him. He doesn’t want to sleep alone again, and luckily, he doesn’t have to.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
-December 4th, 2026-
When you return home from patrol, you find Joel in his living room – boots off and socked feet propped on the arm of the couch. You don’t notice his eyes are closed, that he’s asleep, until you get closer, see the book he’d been reading resting on his chest as he snores lightly. You can’t help but feel for him – he’s probably exhausted from constant patrols, so he must be tired.
But mostly, you’re just overwhelmed by the love you feel for him, catching him in a quiet moment of vulnerability. Hesitantly, you reach out and squeeze his foot. It’s gentle and tender enough that he blinks his eyes open and looks around, taking in his surroundings, rather than jolting awake like he often does. When he sees you on the opposite end of the couch, he melts back into the pillow he’s propped against.
“Hey, stud,” you lean against the arm of the couch.
“Hey,” Joel answers, voice still gruff with sleep. “How long was I out?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just got in.”
“Hmm,” Joel closes his eyes again, folds his hands across his stomach.
“You’re wearing the glasses I got you,” you point out. They’re simple. Rectangular black frames. You’d found them on patrol, and brought them home after Joel had been complaining that he could barely see when he read before bed. But he’d tried them on and insisted he hated the way they looked, so you’d ended up using them most of the time.
“They do work,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to admit it. “But I still think they look stupid.”
“You look like a sexy librarian,” Joel rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s suppressing a grin. There’s always a bit of defiance about him, he can’t fully admit how you get him so flustered even after you’ve spent so much time together. You press your thumb into the arch of his foot and he groans. “That feel good?” you ask.
“Yes.”
“Whatcha reading?” You gesture towards the book.
“Some book about the moon landing,” Joel lifts it off of his chest, where it lay face down and open, looks at the back cover. “For Ellie.”
“How sweet.”
“It’s a little dry,” he deadpans. “But she likes this stuff.”
You shift your massage to his other foot. Joel stretches, his arms lifting above his head, the shirt he’s wearing rides up just so, so you see a sliver of his lower belly before it disappears again, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Are you tired?” you ask.
“Always,” he says through a yawn.
“Me too,” you yawn along with him, since they’re contagious. He pulls the glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and shuts the book, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him. You take your hands off his feet and he sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand.
“Come ‘ere,” he says, and you do.
He grunts as you settle into his arms, head nestled against his chest, sprawling out almost on top of him, the only way you both can fit like this on the couch.
“You’re so warm,” you say softly, letting him wrap his arms around you.
“You’re cold. Your hands are freezing,” he holds them in his own.
“It’s cold out.”
“Don’t know why you left today.”
“Obligations. Patrol.”
“Fuck that.”
You laugh into his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I think we might be boring.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, we don’t really leave the house. We spend all day reading. And we’re old.”
“We’re not that old.”
“But we’re getting up there.”
“Sure, but…” Joel trails off.
“Everything’s so quiet, so calm.”
“I think that’s what most people would describe as content.”
“Are you content?” you ask, lifting your head to look him in the eyes.
“I’m happy,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. “Are you?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Then don’t worry about the rest.”
“Okay,” you settle back against your husband's chest, feel his lips brush your forehead.
His fingers search absentmindedly for the ring on your finger he’d found while clearing out a pawn shop not too long ago. The one he wore looked nothing like your own. But the marriage had been long overdue, and neither of you cared what the rings actually looked like.
Nowadays, you split your time between his place with Ellie, and your own with Ethan, but end up in his bed every night. At this point, you don’t think you could sleep without him.
Years ago, another lifetime, you’d had a conversation underneath a sky full of stars. You’d told him that for you, good things had never lasted. Joel had made a promise.
This will.
It took time. There was a lot of pain. But in the end, he had told you the truth.
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#i hope ya'll like this???#i feel like i am pretty proud of it tbh#AND TLOU 2 never happened!!!!#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller series#joel miller imagine#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x you#the last of us#the last of us writing#tlou#tlou writing#pedro pascal#troy baker#tommy miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#ellie williams#maria miller
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I don't know if this counts as a prompt but how about the "Only One Bed" trope with Hinata~?
nonnie this is perfect!! thank you sooooo much for the idea heehee i hope this turned out okay!
brazil!hinata, fluff, friends to lovers
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hinata's bubbling with excitement all day long. through his morning shower, while he took out the garbage, during the practice games this afternoon, and the entirety of the evening, he's been giddy. riding the transit to the airport and dealing with the tense flow of travelers didn't phase him one bit.
now he stands in the airport holding a ridiculously large and vibrant sign with your name in massive letters, right above his head.
the two of you had planned this trip a little over three months ago. hinata had almost reached his two-year mark in brazil, and was getting ready to move home. he asked you to be his travel buddy, even offering to pay for your travel if you would be so kind to accompany him. you couldn't say no, of course, and made plans to fly to see your best friend.
you and hinata met when you were first years, both in the same elective classes. you've been inseparable ever since. you watched every game that you could, despite your own busy schedule. even while he's been gone, weekly facetimes and daily chats have kept you closer than ever.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous, though.
over the past two years, you've watched hinata grow from a bouncy, excited teenager into a confident and strong man. he's honed his skills to perfection and it shows. you've seen the streams. you thought he was incredible in high school, but he's got to be the best volleyball player you've ever seen. it's amazing, and you're so proud.
but this confidence has affected more than just his performance.
hinata carries himself in a way that exudes confidence and pride. he's tan, dusted with freckles, and toned muscles that prove the hours of volleyball he's endured. he smiles often, a bright and toothy grin whenever he speaks. hinata is sure of himself. he knows who he is, speaking with a clear voice and tone.
which is much more attractive than you had thought.
you've found yourself thinking about him more, lingering thoughts of his happy grin that follow you throughout the day. you think about his pretty hair and how it shines in the sun during your morning commute. you think about his cheery voice and the nicknames he calls you on your lunch break.
and as you step off of the plane, those thoughts come to a screeching halt.
once off the terminal and into the building, you're hit with the heat of brazil. that combined with the disorientation of it all, you are a little overwhelmed. until a near fluorescent pink sign held up by tan, strong arms and an orange mop of hair catch your eye.
"sho!"
you run, carry on dragging behind you until you meet your best friend. hinata picks you up, squeezing you as tight as he can before setting you down.
"god, i'm so glad to see you. was the flight okay? did i get you good seats? were you able to sleep?"
hinata tucks the sign under his arm, picks your bag up for you, and leads you to the exit. you follow behind him with a laugh.
"yes, yes, and a little bit," you answer while the two of you wait in the shade of the large sign, being put to good use in the evening sun. "did you wait long?"
he shakes his head. "less than twenty minutes. but you know that i would've stayed all day for you."
as the bus pulls and the two of you find a seat, hinata can't sit still. he's been feeling the same way that you have, but he's been able to distract himself until now. the way you say his name feels special, something that he looks forward to on every call. he counts down the hours until your weekly facetimes, heart pounding in anticipation everytime the call rings through.
"so, what's on the agenda shoyo?"
thankfully, that snaps him out of his thoughts and back to you as you rest your hand on his knee to get him from bouncing it.
"sorry," he stills. "well, i figured we could grab something to eat at my place. i don't have any practice until tomorrow, so we can relax tonight and head to the beach tomorrow. i figured you would want to rest after flying all day."
you can't help but smile. years of beach photos and now it's finally your turn to run into those waves he gushes about every day.
"sounds perfect to me. after the house tour i'll change and we can relax."
hinata snorts. "can't wait to show you everything, it will take a whole two minutes!"
you push into his side with your shoulder, rolling your eyes. the bus slows to a stop and hinata stands up, nodding his head towards a set of apartment buildings.
"this is our stop," he sighs, grabbing your hand to lead you off of the bus and across the street. as soon as you are en route for the building, he lets go of your hand. a small wave of tension washes over the two of you, but you're quick to move on. the excitement of seeing your best friend after two years outweighs the newfound feelings.
"okay, first part of the tour," hinata mumbles as his fingers fuss with the lock on his door. he cheers to himself as he finally gets it open, and runs into the middle of the room.
"ta-da!" he puts his arms out and waves his hands. "here's...everything!"
it is quite small, but it's just what he needed. a small kitchen with a couple of bar stools, a large window with an AC unit, and a few photos taped to the fridge. a couple volleyballs sit in what must be the living room, along with his goggles and extra water bottles. he walks to a door adjacent to the front door and laughs.
"so that's my kitchen, obviously. and then this was my living room, but i already sold my couch and chairs,"
you stop walking and give him a confused stare.
"wait, you got rid of your couch? what am i going to-"
"here's my room. that's the bathroom," he points towards another door which is next to a large map of japan taped to the wall. the other walls are decorated as well, with photos of friends and family and other photos he enjoyed. some scenery from home, photos he snapped at the beach, and some volleyball posters as well. hinata scratches his head. "i know it's pretty small, but i didn't need much. but, if you need towels they're in here, and-"
"shoyo."
"the AC unit is perfect, too. if you need it turned up just let me know-"
"shoyo."
he stops finally, hand reached towards his small closet door when he turns to you.
"what's up?"
"you got rid of your couch?"
he laughs, flopping onto his bed. "yeah! two days ago. it was a pain in the ass to get down the stairs," he shakes his head, remembering how ridiculous the whole thing was.
"why did you do that?"
now he returns your confused look. tilting his head to the side, he looks at you. your arms are folded across your chest, your boarding passes still in your hand from earlier. a habit you clearly haven't let go of.
"what do you mean? i'm moving home next week, and i can't take it with me."
"shoyo, i was going to sleep on the couch."
hinata's smile falters slightly as the realization sets in. you're right, he was going to sell it the day before the two of you left. the busyness of the past few days caused that to slip his mind, selling it to his downstairs neighbor.
he swallows. normally, this wouldn't be a huge deal. the two of you have had tons of sleepovers before. but something is different now. something that he doesn't want to ruin.
"you can take my bed. i can just sleep on the floor, i don't mind at all!"
you shake your head, shuffling to join him on the bed. "it's your bed, sho. i'm not going to do that to you!"
"you're my guest, what sort of host would i be to make you sleep on the floor? c'mon, it's my fault i sold the couch to begin with. you can take the bed, i promise."
you play with your fingers for a moment, deciding what you're going to say for a bit.
"we could share," you suggest, voice quiet. when you look up at him, hinata's cheeks are dusted pink. he clears his throat.
"i-if you're okay with it, of course."
you nod. "i don't mind. it would keep us both comfortable."
hinata nods, hoping you don't hear the pounding of his heart in his chest. honestly, he would like nothing more than to keep you close. many nights, especially over the last few months, he's awake with thoughts of holding you, keeping you tight to him as you count the stars.
"well, i'll start dinner. feel free to shower, change, whatever you want."
"is that your way of telling me that i stink?"
hinata laughs out loud, throwing his extra pillow toward you before heading to the kitchen. god, he missed you. he missed your wit, your laugh, and the way your nose scrunches when he tells a bad joke. he missed everything about you, but he can't find the words to tell you.
the two of you spend the night playing cards on his living room floor, sharing stories of silly things that occurred over the last few weeks. hinata showed you a few photos he took a couple days ago, and laughed as he retold the stories behind them. before you knew it, it was almost 2:30 am, which meant it was time to go to bed.
the two of you had been putting it off as long as possible. but, with the way you rest your head in your hands between games, hinata knows it's time.
"i have extra blankets in the closet if you need them," he points from the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his lips. you nod, moving your things out of your suitcase to keep busy. you're hoping to distract yourself as much as you can. "i'm going to shower really quick, but make yourself comfortable. i'll keep quiet," he closes the door all but a crack, the warm light escaping onto the bed like a spotlight.
you do as he says, getting comfortable underneath the blankets as far to the side as possible. as soon as your head hits the pillow, you begin to fall under. hinata's warm scent envelopes you and you feel safe, the hours of travel finally catching up to you as you shut your eyes.
you're not sure how long it's been before hinata joins you, sliding into bed as carefully as he can. he lies on his back for a while, trying to decide if he should hold you or keep his distance. the smell of his body wash causes you to stir a little, and without thinking hinata pulls your back to his chest.
you hum, very groggily as you feel the warmth of his bare skin on you. after a moment your eyes snap open as you realize the situation.
"i didn't mean to wake you, i'm sorry," he whispers, voice close to your ear in the position the two of you are in.
"it's okay," you breathe, scared if you move that he will push away.
a few minutes pass, the two of you unmoving and listening to the sounds of your rapid heartbeats, slowly beginning to beat as one.
"i'm sorry about the couch," hinata whispers once more, voice raspy with sleep. "but i like having you close."
your lips part slightly at the confession. your mind is swimming, shocked at the fact that he feels the same. you start to speak, but nothing comes out. instead, you reach for his hand with yours, softly pulling it wraps around you in wordless accord. hinata pulls you closer, a silent reassurance that he feels the same.
"goodnight, shoyo," you sigh, leaning back into his chest. shakily, he leans forward to place a kiss on the back of your head.
"goodnight," he says into the night. the two of you drift off to sleep, feelings pushed aside for the time being. for now, hinata finally holds you close, and falls asleep with a smile.
#hinata x reader#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata fluff#hinata shoyo#shoyo hinata x reader#hq fluff#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader fluff#haikyuu fluff#shoyo hinata
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Petite and oftentimes calm mc that can fling them across the room if upset. With the 7 brothers
(Can you do a masc mc for this? I don't mind gn either)
Hi there, anon!
Okay I wrote their reactions to being flung across the room because I find that idea sooooo funny. I definitely had masc MC in mind when I wrote it, but I think it's hard to tell since I'm still using the you/yours pronouns and such. Hopefully it turned out okay!
Anyway, I quite enjoyed writing this! Thank you for the request!
Brothers react to being flung across the room by petite masc!MC.
Warnings: Well... the bros get thrown around a little bit, but nobody gets hurt lol
Lucifer
The first time you get upset enough to throw him, he’s so surprised he almost crashes into the wall. Almost. He just barely manages to catch himself by shifting into demon form and using his wings. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to react that way and he was not expecting you to have the strength to do something like that. Completely shocked.
When he recovers, you’re going to have to deal with his hurt pride. Especially if you were around others at the time. How dare you do something like that to him, MC. Are you prepared for the consequences? Don’t back down. Point out that he’s the one who upset you. It isn’t your fault if he underestimated you.
Since you’re normally so calm, he understands that he really must have crossed a line to push you to such extremes. He assures you that he will not be making that mistake a second time. That’s about as close as you’re gonna get to an apology. Still he’s definitely going to be more careful. And he never does upset you that much again.
Now that he’s aware of what you can do despite your small stature, he takes pleasure in watching you do it to other people. Warns people ominously if it looks like they’re about to piss you off. They never take the warning though and he can't help but find it entertaining when you react accordingly.
Mammon
Definitely the first one to push you to this point. You’re always so chill, he thinks he can get away with anything. And yeah he can get away with a lot, but when he finally pushes you too far, he finds himself flying across the room.
Woah. Woah! MC! Since when have ya been so strong?! You totally took him by surprise. Once he gets over the shock, he blushes. A lot. Suddenly he can't quite look you in the eye. Turns out he kinda liked it. He's not happy that you're upset, but damn… it certainly gets him riled up.
Mammon can cause this reaction from you frequently, but he doesn't do it on purpose. He forgets about it and just goes about his usual trouble making ways. It doesn't happen often since it takes a lot to get you really upset at him, but when it does it flusters the hell out of him every time.
He gets good at dodging you, though. He's known for being a fast runner, but he only makes you chase him for a little bit. In the end, he lets you catch him. He doesn't want to make you even angrier. And he always apologizes.
Leviathan
Rarely upsets you enough to cause this reaction. Not expecting it when it happens even though he’s aware of it due to his brothers already experiencing it. He’s completely disoriented by it. What just happened? Where is he? What’s his name again??
After getting back his bearings, he switches to full on apologizing. Profusely. He's so sorry, MC! Please forgive him! Seriously, you should probably forgive him or his anxiety is gonna kick into high gear.
Actively tries not to upset you enough for it to happen again. He likes how calm you normally are, it helps him stay calm too. But since it takes quite a lot for you to get upset, he doesn’t always realize it’s happening until it’s too late.
Will always try to make it up to you somehow. Swears he will never underestimate you again. When he’s afraid of something, he’s going to hide behind you. Knows you’re strong enough to handle what he can’t. This is confusing to anyone who doesn't know you well. Is that the Admiral of Hell's Navy hiding behind some human guy? Something isn't adding up here…
Satan
Normally he's the one who loses his cool. Definitely not used to having someone upset enough with him to fling him across the room. He's going to be dazed a bit before coming back to his senses. Then his reaction could go one of two ways. Unlike him, it takes a lot for you to get upset. Knowing this might be enough for him to calm down, too. However, he might also just get angrier.
It's pretty clear to everyone at this point that you can hold your own against demons. So if Satan's anger intensifies, you're ready to meet him head on if you have to. You can be sure the other brothers are gonna try to get involved, though. This has the potential to devolve into complete and utter chaos. Your best bet is to leave and let yourself cool down.
If it goes that way, he will find you later when he's not angry anymore and apologize. He knows how he is and he's embarrassed that he let it get that far. If it doesn't escalate like that and he actually calms down after you throw him, he will apologize right then and there. You've stunned him into it.
When he has a moment to think about it, he's impressed with how strong you are. Appearances can be deceiving. You appear small and calm, but you have quite a bit of power, don't you, MC?
Asmodeus
Distraught at first. How could you do that to him, MC? What if he had broken a nail? Once he has confirmed that he still looks as fabulous as ever, he’s a little overcome by how strong you are. Gets naughty ideas because of course he does.
But he realizes that you’re upset and that's not good. He’s sorry, darling! He didn’t mean to upset you! He’s going to do whatever he can to make it up to you.
Now that he’s aware of how strong you are, though, he’s gonna come up with excuses to get you to flaunt it. Oh no, he’s hurt his ankle! Won’t you carry him to his next class? If you try to carry him on your back, he’s going to hop into your arms instead. Now you’re carrying him bridal style through the halls. He is loving every second.
He gets what it's like to be underestimated based on how you look. And he won't be able to stand it if other demons do it. He won't wait for you to get angry enough to take action, he’s just gonna take care of these lowlifes himself.
Beelzebub
If you actually manage to pick up and throw this giant, it’s going to shock everybody. Your name becomes legend because how is that even possible? He’s completely flabbergasted. It makes no sense. You’re just a little guy. How did this happen?
Beel is impressed. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of such strength. He’s usually the one carrying everybody else around. Thoroughly ashamed that he pushed you to this point though. Apologizes. Takes you out to lunch.
Teach him your ways. He wants to be able to throw people three times his size too. Not that he’s likely to encounter such a person, but you know. That’s not the point.
When nobody else is around, he might sheepishly ask you to pick him up. Likely just wants cuddles. Set him in your lap and he’ll get comfy and content. It’s just not something he’d ever expect anyone to be able to do, let alone you.
Belphegor
Startled so bad he shifts into demon form without realizing. Tail twitches as he blinks rapidly in confusion. What did he miss? Something's not right here. You’re way too small to have been the one to just launch him across the room… right?
After the surprise wears off, though, he gets it. You are calm most of the time, but Belphie is also a brat most of the time. He pushed you to your limit and it turns out you’re a lot stronger than you look.
Pretty annoyed with you at first. You really messed with him just now, you know? He might have deserved it, but still. You can’t just go around throwing people, MC. But he won’t protest for long, eventually apologizing.
Now he has two crazy strong people he can rely on. He already gets away with a lot but he sees this as an opportunity to threaten others. He’ll tell on his brothers to you in hopes he’ll get to watch them fly through the air haphazardly. He can’t help it, it’s funny when it happens to someone else.
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me brothers#request#misc writes
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Idol Error meets Idol Fresh (Short Story)
Finally, the long awaited prize for @zucchiyeni, I am sooooo sorry it took so long to get to..
These short stories were the prizes of the honorable mentions in the SeasonTale Creative Challenge.
Whew, now, onto the story!
~o0o~
"That's like, totally unrad bro."
Error glanced down at his watch again. 5 minutes... they were five minutes over the meeting time they were supposed to speak with him, and it ticked him off.
Error was one of the most famous independent singers in the entire multiverse. He had rewards for his skills in rapping and voice tuning. Despite his inefficiency with technology, he produced some of the most captivating videos and VR experiences known to mankind. It was said he only had one producer, but to this day, no one could figure out who it was.
And the contractors wanted to hire him.
He told himself it was stupid. He knew that they would take his rights to his music if he agreed to their deal... yet the price tag wasn't something he couldn't refuse.
His producer seriously needed a raise.
"Dude, you can't fire me! I won't be the vibe anymore! The town's countin on me radical skills!"
Error rubbed his head, hearing the younger guy talk in the room with the contractor. All he could think about was how annoying his voice sounded. The way he talked, and the way he yelled... It was ticking him off even more.
He decided he wasn't going to wait any longer. He stood up, banging on the door to the office. "HuRrY Up," he hissed. "I d0n't g0T a11 d@y t0 wa1t f0r y0u."
The conversation stopped, and rapid footsteps were heard before the employer, wearing a bright smile, opened the door. "Error!" He smiled with glee. "So happy to have you here, just give me maybe 5 more minutes as I deal with this hobo mkay?"
"1 d0n't h@vE m0r3 t1m3," Error glitched, adjusting his outfit. "T1m3 1s m0n3y."
"But of course," the small skeleton shuddered. "Right, Fresh, I'm going to need you to leave. Unfortunately, we will not be renewing your contract and that's final."
"But lad," Fresh, a tall-appearing skeleton begged. "Tis is ma only source of income! I can't produce any more music unless you chill and let me have the rights to my own voice yo!"
Error grimaced in disgust at his rainbow outfit. He was a walking kid's toy, with trinkets on his outfit that made no sense and the style skill of a two-year-old. However, he didn't like the look of the contractor's outfit either... it was all black with a white undershirt. Very boring, in his opinion.
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I could do."
"Wh@t d0 y0u m3an, yoU dOn'T hav3 th3 r1ghts t0 yoUr OwN v01c3?" Error gestured to the hobo, considering what he said earlier.
"Totally unfair, brah!" Fresh explained. "In the contract, they steal the rights to your voice, music, everything! They only pay a pretty penny until your rates drop because of their unrad standards!"
"Wait, no, that's not entirely true-" The contractor had a pleading look in his eyes, glancing at Error and grabbing the scruff of his sleeve.
Error immediately shot his hand out of his reach, looking at him in disgust. "N@h, that's BS r1GhT th3rE. I'1l c0nt1nuE t0 b3 ind3penDenT."
"But-" The contractor flattened his face with a defeated look. He glared at Fresh as Error walked out, but not out of earshot. "You just ruined our chance to make a big buck, prepared for your entire career to be ruined."
The scrape of a chair echoed through the hall. "Too bad you already did lad."
Error rubbed his head, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He really needed the extra cash, but with the terms he overheard and the reviews from other artists stuck in contracts with the company, he saw no benefit. Even the Star Sanses were stuck with them for six more years, unable to produce their own stuff. It made Error wonder if the instant fame was worth it for them.
Not like he experienced that desire. He had posted his music one day and it caught fire quickly, each of his videos going viral the moment it released.
Yet, nothing paid him enough to give his producer the raise she needed. Most of the money he made himself went back into his production and to pay his own bills.
"Yo broski, wait up!"
Error cringed, clenching his fists together as the footsteps behind him got louder. As if this hobo couldn't get any more annoying...
"Sorry about the lazy impression back there bud, I tots wasn't having the best convo of all time. But I know your music and I must say you're pretty rad and wanted to ask if you wanted to collab sometime." Fresh rambled, before stopping and taking a few big breaths.
Error glanced Fresh up and down... well, more up than anything. He raised an eyebrow and continued walking. I don't have time for this...
"C'mon broski!" Fresh bounded after him. "I won't let you down and I can add some sick beats to your vocals!"
"1 h@v3n't h3arD yOuR mus1c beFor3." Error glitched, adjusting his clothes once more. "YoU juSt g0t f1r3d, wHy shOulD 1?"
"Look look look," Fresh immediately pulled out his phone to search for examples of his music. Even Error was surprised at the rate he pulled it up while keeping up with his pace.
The song played fancy and radical tunes, ones that Error had never heard before. There were some parts he liked, but the main melody of most of them sucked in his opinion. Error then explained to Fresh the few parts he liked while everything else was trash.
Fresh did not seem disheartened in any way. "Thanks for the feedback broski, I will take it into account! I could lend you the sounds for a collab, just one brah."
Error scoffed, turning around to face the rainbow once more. "Tw0 w0RDs, m@ss1v3 mAk30v3r," Error gestured to his entire outfit. "Y0u'R3 n0t l0Ok1nG l1kE th@t 1n mY v1d30."
"Really brah?" Fresh frowned, unzipping part of his outfit to show the inside of it. "You think this is lame? It's better than the lazy hobo that you're wearing."
"Th1s 1s f@shi0n, thAT b3l0nGs 1n th3 DumPSt3r." Error fired back, getting more angry by the minute. He snarled and waved his hand in dismissal, walking towards his car.
He didn't see the devilish grin of a cunning idea wrap around the parasite's face. "Relax lad, why don't we let yo cute producer decide? The collab would be made by her anyway~"
Error stopped dead in his tracks, glitching in and out at the mention of his producer. There's no way this loser could have figured out who she was... right? The fact that he even talked like that about her fueled his fury. How disrespectful of him.
If it weren't for his popularity, Error would have strangled him on the spot. However, people were starting to look and point them out, as he was being recognized. Fresh knew this, he saw this... and he laughed about it. They both knew Fresh was taunting Error.
"I'll make it stop if ya wish to collab, broski," Fresh shrugged, rezipping his coat.
Subconsciously, Error pulled the strings from his eyes as they continued to glitch, showing his anger. "N3-3-3-v3r." He hissed, holding the strings around his fingers. "N0 0-0n3 wh0 diSr3sp3ctS m3 @nd m-m-my c-cr3w w0rkS w-w1th m3."
"Hope to see you on stage then broski, when you come crawling back to me!" Fresh bowed, the silver on his clothes blinding Error when the sun reflected off of it. "I'll personally be your rival. It'll be easier to get popular that way."
"D0n't f-forg3t a-a-ab0uT th@t s-stup1d c0ntr@ct y0u siGn3d." Error unlocked his car, seething.
"What they gonna do lad, fire me? I'm on my own," he gives a mocking salute to the rap star. "And I'll be the one to take over your career. Good luck broski..." his eyes turned a scary shade of purple. "You'll need it."
Error was incredibly puzzled by Fresh's behavior as he drove home. The only word he could use to describe it was childish, yet it still got under his nerves. Usually, threats don't bother him as they don't get very far. But this one... it was very unsettling.
The rap star would make his way home in silence before eating his favorite meal and collapsing in bed to sleep. Despite all the things he tried to do, Fresh stayed fresh in his mind, and he was unable to shake the feeling that something was about to go seriously wrong for him.
Little did he know what kind of battle for his career this rainbow hobo would bring... And the rivalry it started to this day.
Even then, his producer stayed loyal to him, and Error still made music as usual. Security was increased, and he was able to get his producer a raise due to the song rivalry with Fresh, despite never collabing. Error always thought Fresh's music was childish and inexperienced, especially when the song was putting him under the bus. He believed he had the real roasts when he finally put the song together to tick off the parasite back.
But after the song "Fresh to Rotten Fruit" was released, Error was unable to sleep. He pissed off the rainbow parasite... and the threat on his life and his producer's life was too serious to be ignored.
And Error couldn't fix it without ruining his career.
#idolverse#idol error#idol fresh#error sans#fresh sans#utmv#undertale au#sans au#seasontale creative challenge#short story#writing#Again sorry this took so long#I'm tired
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University au where now that Dream is in university, he's not under the direct supervision of his shitty parents, so what they did was that they basically forced Dream to be roommates with someone of their choosing. I can't decide if Dream should be trans in this au, cause if he is trans, his parents probably would pick Thessaly to be his roommate. If he's not trans, then Alexander Burgess. If it's Alex, then Dream's family has known and trusted the Burgesses for years, and so can rely on Alex to spy on Dream. If it's Thessaly, I think they'd just pay her to spy on Dream.
Dream is not happy about this. It starts out fine, except for the fact that he knows that his roommate is an attempt on his parent's part to control him, which bothers him a lot. But it starts out fine. But then the roommate never leaves him alone. The roommate clearly wants to be friends, Dream is not interested in friends of his parent's choosing.
Enter Hob, who has seen Dream day after day dealing with someone who doesn't seem to be able to take a hint that Dream wants to be left alone, if it's Alex. Or if it's Thessaly, he's overheard her talking to Dream about "those transgenders" and Dream, who very much looks like the stereotype of a pre-t trans guy, looks very much uncomfortable. Either way, Hob is tired of seeing Dream bothered by this person who Dream clearly wants nothing to do with.
So one day, he manages to catch Dream alone while his roommate is in the bathroom or something, and invites Dream to join him for lunch.
Of course, Dream warns him that he won't be good company, but Hob just smiles and says that he expects that Dream would be better company than the person who clearly can't take the hint that Dream doesn't want to talk to them. If it's Thessaly, Dream just says darkly "oh she can take a hint, she's just been paid off by my parents"
Hob is even more sure that he wants Dream to join him for lunch, so Dream agrees on the condition that they go somewhere where Thessaly or Alex can't find them
From there, Hob, who conveniently doesn't have a roommate practically lets Dream move in. Together they manage to formulate a plan so that Dream doesn't go insane from his terrible roommate, but also his parents don't realize that Dream has thwarted them, although, if Dream is trans in this, then they'll figure it out soon enough when he starts T. But Hob and Dream get up to a bunch of shenanigans to trick and prank Dream's roommate, and fall for each other in the process.
Dream went to college expecting that he'd only be there for his studies, but he's not upset with how it turned out cause now he has a boyfriend. And Hob is very glad that he approached Dream that first time he caught Dream alone.
🪐
I LOVE the idea of trans!Dream managing to absolutely fuck over his parents and the dreaded Thessaly. I definitely think this should be t4t dreamling, btw. Hob is a proud trans man who's been receiving gender affirming care for a while, so he has all kinds of knowledge and tips for Dream. Plus Dream looks at him like 😍😍😍 with 50% attraction, 50% gender envy. Hob is so gorgeous and confident, he makes Dream dare to hope that there's a better future out there for him.
Hob spend many happy hours making Thessaly run in circles and pulling various pranks on her while Dream holes up in the safely of Hob’s room, enjoying his first few weeks on T without even having to worry about Thessaly reporting to his parents. Hob does all kinds of stuff with a "Dream dummy" that he put together, it has a big mop of black hair and Hob sets it up in bed, in the bathroom, in random places so Thessaly either a) thinks it's Dream or B) gets majorly jumpscared.
The summer after their first year of uni, Dream moves in with Hob for the summer. His parents think that he's doing some internship thing, but he's actually hanging out in Hob’s home village, being doted on by Hob’s parents. Oh, and he gets top surgery. His parents are going to be sooooo mad - but Dream feels truly free of them for the first time ever. He has Hob, and most of all he has himself. And he knows that he's going to make it <3
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thoughts on the cage trailer? :0
Always happy to see more of Henry. That's it. I missed the old man. Also he will finally get to have hands if we play from his POV. Though that would be sooooo funny if we didn't play as him but for example as Joey. Okay maybe I just really would love a game where we play as Joey.
Remember when the devs made the whole hoopla around BATDR being "not a prequel, not a sequel, not BATIM 2"? And then BATDR turned out to be very much a sequel to BATIM?
Yeah this time looks like it is indeed not a sequel nor a prequel as it is literally a subplot of BATDR. Still funny though.
Not sure how I like "The Cage", of course it's hard to judge before knowing the content of the game but wouldn't it be better to just name it "The Pit"? Or something else but idk "The Cage" just sounds a bit uncreative to me but also it's just a little nitpick, I don't really care that much about it.
And most importantly. Theories.
"But how did we escape The Pit? How did we get away?"
I wonder what do the devs understand as "The Pit". Because my impression was that we have never reached this location in BATDR because Audrey got caught by one of the Keepers on her way there (to retrieve The End reel). However I saw some people interpret "The Pit" as the cells where Henry, Sammy, Norman and Bertrum (and before she made her escape - Alice) were kept. (Including the Bendy Wiki apparently.)
The Archives do mention "The Pit" as a prison belonging to Wilson and the Keepers. Heidi even mentions that in game:
"That's where the ghosts live. Just beyond that door. The Keeper's prison. The Pit. No one ever comes out. At least, they're not quite the same."
However I do not agree that this prison is "The Pit" because that just... doesn't make sense!
When Henry explains to Audrey the deal with The End reel, he says it's in "The Pit" as in in a different location.
Also above the cells, where the contraband items are, we see the entrance to "The Pit". It is clearly not the same area.
Though Henry does ask in the trailer "how did we escape The Pit?" as if it's something the viewer should already be asking themselves. And that would be again not making sense because to our knowledge if the cells they were in are not "The Pit" then we would have no reason to assume that they went there - because it was Joey who got The End reel, not them.
Do you see my struggle here? fdnffdgkjfd
But also I can't say that the devs are the best writers and they've made multiple contradicting, illogical things before so that wouldn't be the first. So probably better not to get too worked up over that :P
What we do know however is that they will be going to the place that ruined Heidi mentally, the place where The End reel is kept and the place where "the ghosts" live. So that will be fun!
And I hope Joey shows up in there because he did hand the reel to Audrey, so surely their paths must have crossed at some point. That will be very interesting to see and I am awaiting it impatiently. :)
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Eglantine
Eglantine - I wound to heal
Number 4 of my flowers drabble/one-shot series
Main Masterlist - Flowers Masterlist
CW: Mafia dealings, mentions of violence, trauma, angst?, spoilers for the light novels 15 and Stormbringer, episode 61 spoilers, a bit OOC methinks, no dialogue (tell me you can't write speech without telling me you can't write speech lmao), idk what else to place here.
Pairings: Chuuya x Reader
Author's Note: Haven't uploaded in SOOOOO long, which is my bad. It was exam season, then a lot of stuff happened and uni is a lot - shoutout to everyone interviewing for placement years right now. Anyway, hoping to write a bit more this time around. So, yeah, this is just a short thing I wrote after ep 61 aired, because I love Chuuya. There may be some vamp!Chuuya content coming soon too lmao.
Enjoy :)
Many tragedies had befallen Chuuya in his life. He had been a lab rat, tortured and trapped. He had been betrayed, his first friends, his family, being the ones to stick the knife in his back. He had met Dazai. Just when things were looking up, he bore witness to the murder of his closest friends. He had lost control, almost dying and taking everything with him, succumbing to his singularity. Multiple times.
For all the tragedies he had endured, Chuuya was certain he had also caused plenty of tragedy for others, both deserving and undeserving. Hurting people came with the territory as a Port Mafia member. Delivering calamity was his role, ever since he pledged himself to the mafia. Chuuya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia, former King of the Sheep, bringer of the storm awaited by Verlaine, was capable of so much destruction.
Sometimes it brought him joy. Sometimes he felt as if it was a way to get back at the universe, hurt the world back, devastate it as he had been devastated. It was a way to let out his rage and anger for everything that had happened. The pain of all he had endured was overwhelming, unbearable at times. If Chuuya could return even a fraction of that pain, he felt as if he would find some relief. Sometimes it worked, only temporarily, but, for a moment, he felt as if the scales had been balanced. Sometimes, most of the time actually, there was no such feeling.
Sometimes he hated it. Sometimes he hated himself, hated that he enjoyed it, that it didn't fill him with guilt. It made him feel inhuman, reminded him of how he would never know whether he was truly real, or a copy of someone else, designed only to be a vessel. It drudged up the memories of his past, the violence and horror and sorrow. His power, the reason he was capable of such destruction, was the result of an experiment. He was the result of an experiment. Sometimes he felt that was all he ever would be. Sometimes he hated that he had to use what made him feel so inhuman.
Chuuya had endured many tragedies. He had caused many calamities. He hurt and he healed, over and over. A cycle of pain and sorrow and acceptance. Chuuya had resigned himself to it, finding small moments where he felt fine. Never happy, but okay enough, and he had come to terms with that. It was manageable, the cycle repetitive. Tragedy, hurt, heal. He knew what was coming.
That was, until you came along.
You, who smiled at him and caused an explosion in his chest. A blossoming warmth that gave him comfort and unease in equal measure. He wasn't a stranger to caring for others, yet he had never cared for someone like this. You had consumed his heart, filled his thoughts and given him hope for his humanity. After all, how could someone be capable of such intense love if they did not have a soul? If Chuuya was so inhuman, how come he had such capacity for love?
At first, he wasn't sure if this emotion was love. When he had first met you, there had definitely been attraction, but nothing more than that. Chuuya wasn't stupid. He didn't believe in things like 'love at first sight', or anything like that. He knew he didn't love you from the moment he laid eyes on you, as nice as that would have been. After spending several months getting to know you, spending evenings drinking wine and laughing together, and spending nights in each other's embrace, Chuuya knew it must have been love. One day, there was a warmth in his chest, felt only with you. Chuuya loved you. He was certain.
It was the certainty of his own love that proved your reciprocation. Chuuya was loyal and, once he'd tied himself to someone (or some people), that was it. He was bound forever. It was that way with the Sheep. He stuck with them, despite their betrayal, inevitably giving Dazai the leverage to induct him into the Port Mafia. His loyalty was a defining trait, something that never wavered, but it had to be earned. You had earned his love, through sharing affection, trust and care of your own. Showing him the love you felt for him solidified his own feelings. Chuuya knew that he loved you, because you loved him. The devotion you had for him matched his own adoration for you.
Chuuya loved you. It was why he would collapse into your arms after every tough mission, every rough day at work. It was why he could relax around you, spending hours in your presence. It was why he knew that, after every moment he spent apart from you, he could always count on finding solace and respite in your arms. Even when he was miles from you, in another country, he knew. As soon as they made their way back, Chuuya, Dazai and the rest of team Meursault. As soon as he set foot back in Yokohama, his city, he knew you'd be waiting there.
He was right. The transport Mori had sent for them had only just landed, Chuuya had barely set foot on the ground, when you jumped on him, arms wrapping around his neck, knocking him to the ground. He felt his arms wrap around you in response, face burying itself in the crook of your neck, collapsing in the comfort of your embrace. He watched as you smiled and laughed and joked, your joy bringing a grin to his own face. Even as you giggled with Dazai, the bandaged man regaling you with the tale of his prison break, Chuuya's face was the picture of fondness. His eyes held a softness reserved only for you as you leaned into him, arm wrapped around your waist.
Many tragedies had befallen Chuuya in his life and Chuuya had been the creator of many tragedies. He had wounded and healed and wounded again. However, all of that ceased to exist when he was with you. Chuuya was able to finally feel more than okay, he was able to feel at home.
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya nakahara#bungou stray dogs x reader#flowers series
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@rosetylertisms replied to your post “I am so entranced by ur style it's crayzay . . . I...”:
YOU UNDERSTAND. SHAKING YOU AROUND. YOU GET ITTT ohhh i am spinning this around in my head . . . Sakura realizing she emulates the very person she criticizes and questions constantly Oh I'm going to also Go Insane if I think about it too long Ohhh
owauwauwauwauwauwau [sound of me being shaken around]
ITS A GOOD CONCEPT ISNT IT!!!! it's SOOOOO. and kakashi realizing that he gave his own "if i can't save the people around me i'm worthless" complex to sakura WHO BECAME A MEDNIN ABOUT IT!!!!!!
sakura probably, as a whole adult: yeah no me and ino started up the ninja therapy program for people who have ninja trauma and ninja ptsd and need help dealing with it—which we're happy to provide! nobody should be ashamed to seek help. part of being a village means supporting each other :)
sakura, as an aside: not me though. i'm good. i'm so so so so good and feel so normal all the time and am NOT living in a paralyzing fear of letting anyone down, knowing that as a mednin any moment i take to myself is a moment i could've spent literally using specialized ninja healing to save somebody else. haha.
kakashi, looking directly at a pink haired mirror: haha. oh no.
#rosetylertisms#yamswers#they're everything to me#I'M HAVING A NORMAL ONE TODAY !#image desc in alt text#for the gif
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𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝕸𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖚𝖕 : ̗̀➛ @darthvada
I pair you with... *drumroll*
*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓪 𝓜𝓮𝓰𝓾𝓻𝓾!!!ੈ✩‧₊˚
Song to describe your relationship:
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Heart Attack (츄) by Chuu ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
ꕥ Bachira strikes me as the type of person who likes talking but also enjoys listening so he's the best of both worlds!
ꕥ His mother is a painter aka a very creative women and I see that quality reflected in Bachira. He might not plan the best dates but they sure are creative-
ꕥ Part of your type was a kind person who was willing to open up. Bachira has no problem expressing his emotions and as we see in the anime treats everyone kindly (unless given a reason not to)
ꕥ He loves and I mean LOVES when you attend his games. It makes him so happy that the person he loves is watching him and that's when he starts to do extra fancy stuff to impress you lol
ꕥ Goes to all, ALL of your performances. ALL! And if he can't make it then he gets really sad. (showing him a recording of the performance or sing for him and he'll feel better lol)
ꕥ You love music! He also loves music! He dragged you to a karaoke (w/ consent) he wanted to sing with you. You were singing your favorite song sounding like an * 🎀 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 🎀 *and Bachira was over on the side "singing" like 👹 👺😀 All that matters is that you guys had a lot of fun :D
ꕥ Because Bachira was essentially bullied as a kid, he's probably conscience of what he says and how it makes people feel. In the heat of the moment he may say something that sounds rude without malicious intent and he will pause for a moment and immediately apologize. He's very open minded so if you think something you do is weird, don't. He's probably weirder :)
ꕥ If someone oversteps a boundary and says something borderline rude he can peacefully hint at them not to be a bitc- I mean to be a kinder person 🥰
ꕥ See someone who bullied you in public? They try to say something other than an apology? He scared them away. You won't have to deal with them anymore. Would throw hands. You have to hold his hand or smth so he doesn't commit a felony.
ꕥ You're in theater so I'm assuming that you like musicals. I think Bachira knows a little bit of popular songs from Ride the Cyclone, probably watched Hamilton with his mom. Other than that he doesn't know a lot. He would love to learn more if you're willing to teach him and if you have a favorite musical he buys tickets for your anniversary!
ꕥ Your school doing a Romeo and Juliet? Asks if you want to be Juliet so that he can be Romeo. Or same thing with a different play.
ꕥ First time he went to see you perform he may or may not have brought a giant poster with your name on it and held it up when you were on stage. You may or may not have had to tell him not to bring signs anymore because he was blocking the audience's view.
ꕥ You like playing games? Bachira is a fortnight kid (this is cannon no one can change my mind-) even if he didn't play fortnight he learned the dances. Was obsessed with soccer so didn't play many as a kid but will learn how to play all of your favorite ones with you. Will stay up all night playing video games or board games just for you. <3 You guys build a house in Minecraft together. And he sets it on fire. It gets destroyed. Bye bye house 😔
"Bachira what did you do how did this happen?!"
"Hehehehehehehe...he...he...honestly idk."
Something like that would probably happen.
ꕥ If you and Bachira do a self care night together that would be so cute <3 If you guys do face masks with the cucumbers he eats all of the cucumbers and takes off the face mask too early 💀 If you have long hair or hair long enough to be braided he braids your hair. Does it look like a braid? No absolutely not but it's cute sooooo
ꕥ He enjoys receiving hugs from you and if he sees you in the hallways (or anywhere really) he'll run up to you and basically tackle you. If you're someone who is not a big fan of physical affection then you'll have to tell him because this man wants to hold your hand 24/7
ꕥ Definitely tried to teach you a little bit of soccer. He doesn't care if you're good or not he just wants to share the things he loves with the people he loves.
ꕥ He confessed first. He was nervous that you would reject him because he got bullied for being weird as a kid. Asked you teach him like two cords on the piano and he "sang a song about his feelings" to you on the piano. With two cords. Yippee!
ꕥ Wants to play among us with you to troll random people by saying they're sus and voting them out.
ꕥ He likes cuddles and enjoys listening to you sing
ꕥ Introduced you to his friends but don't pay too much attention to them or he will get jealous (I don't know how to word it without it sounding cringe 💀) Was really excited for you guys to meet each other especially his bff Isagi 🫶 You said you liked making friends Bachira does too. You guys can become like a social butterfly couple and meet a ton of new people. You said you get anxious too and Bachira is an easy going person so dw he will always be there to help.
ꕥ This bundle of sunshine is happy as long as your happy and loves listening to things you're passionate about
ꕥ Gave you a bunch of random nicknames based off of your name, things you like, things you remind him of, etc
ꕥ Your relationship is like the golden standard for couples because your and Bachira's energies complement each other so well
Note: First request yippee! I had a lot of fun writing this and at first it took me a moment to pair you with someone but then I thought about and it came to me *snap* ☆Bachira☆
If I got any information from your request wrong or you want something changed lmk and I'll fix it ASAP. Have a nice day!
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The Love You Want: II: Part Two
Masterlist
The Love You Want: I
The Love You Want: II, part one
The Love You Want: II, part three
Link to AO3 version
Word Count: 11,289
Tags: Self-harm, suicide, pining, vomit, religious themes, eye horror I guess?, if anything else, lemme know <3
I'm not terribly happy with it but i've been staring at it for far too long sooooo
Fic under the cut <3
After their talk of the bond, Vessel leaves II to shower and have some time to himself, and they don't see each other for the rest of the day. II assumes that they just haven't crossed paths, but it becomes clear when the next day is the same, and the day after that, that Vessel is avoiding him.
He can't stop the hurt at the realization, and goes to look for Vessel to ask why. To ask if he's done something to upset the other man. He isn't in his room, or the kitchen. Not the living room, or the practice room where II finally sees the drumset sitting in the corner. He doesn't stop to look at it, a little worried now as Vessel still hasn't shown up anywhere. There is nothing but calm over their bond, but that doesn't reassure II in the slightest, having seen Vessel's physical distress while the bond projected nothing but peace. The other man has clearly figured out how to hide his own emotions, and II starts looking a bit more frantically.
Its as II is looking around outside the manor that he feels it, the bond clicking off entirely. The emptiness swallows him whole.
Panicked, II calls out for Sleep's help as he goes back inside. "Sleep, where is he? Please, I- I can't leave him like this."
"The first is in no danger. He is in the bathroom, hiding, sick." The God replies in confusion, "Doing as he always does."
"What does that even mean?!" II replies, heading for the restroom that is in the back of the house.
He hears a single sob, and he would feel more embarrassed for the frantic knocking on the bathroom door if he hadn't heard the choked retching that followed.
"Vessel, are you alright in there? I- I felt you shut off the bond and got worried."
Worried does not begin to cover it. Such a simple word could never describe the agony of Vessel's presence just- disappearing. But II told him he could turn the bond off whenever he wished, and he isn't going to go back on that now, even when he still isn't sure that Vessel is even al-
"I'm okay."
It's small, and shaky, but Vessel's voice floods II with relief, just knowing he really was in that bathroom.
"I know you're not. Vessel, please, don't lie to me. Let me help you."
"No! You- You can't see me like this. You'll hate me, I'm already ugly, please- Please, II, just go away!" He begs, and II's heart shatters at his feet at the fear, the desperation in the other man's voice.
"I would never think you ugly, and I'm not leaving you Vessel. I'll stay here until you come out yourself." II turns to sit against the door of the bathroom, resolved to sit and wait as long as he needs to.
He refuses to leave Vessel to wither away in his sadness alone. Try as he might to omit it from the bond now, II felt it clear as day and he is never going to leave Vessel to deal with such misery alone if he can help it.
II sits there for hours, mask pulled up to expose his mouth, tapping out a beat on his thighs while he waits. Vessel had gone silent, but every once in a while, II is able to feel his presence move closer, then, once realizing II was still there, move away, the bond unable to hide that from him, at least. At some point, II begins talking about the music he enjoys, R&B and Pop, then explains in further detail how he got Elvira and all the ways she's gotten herself into trouble over the years. The cat herself comes and go's as she pleases, never staying for long.
Vessel never says anything, never makes a sound except for the disgusting noise of vomiting into the toilet. At one point, II is sure he heard the other man crying but its so faint, II isn't sure he heard right. Sleep leaves them alone, and II doesn't bother the God. They clearly thought nothing was wrong.
"Vessel, please let me in." II tries again, "Nothing I see will make me hate you. I could never hate you. I promise, please, I just want to help. I don't want you to shut me out."
There is no answer for awhile, and II is sure he will have to continue to sit and wait. Then, the vines on the walls quiver, and II hears a click. The lock has been turned. Standing quickly, he tries the doorknob and it turns in his hand easily. Breathing a sigh of relief, II opens the door and if his heart hadn't already shattered at his feet, it would've at the sight before him.
Vessel is kneeled over the toilet, black sludge dripping from his lips and splattered in the bowl. His mask is lain at his feet, face on full display, but it looks... different. It is white, line the other one, and yet the design is different. Where once there were two eye holes, now six sit, more slitted than the other mask and painted over by Sleep's sigil in a blood red. His hoodie is nowhere to be seen, only a simple black t-shirt and jeans.
There's blood everywhere, smeared over his mouth and along his cheek, small puddles and droplets on the floor, and a knife on the counter. Golden tears drip down his face from three pairs of eyes, all of them scrunched in pain. Two of them, the middle and bottom pair that sit below his usual set, smaller with each pair, bleed black like blood that mixes with the gold. The edges of those two pairs are red and irritated, any bloodshot veins invisible due to the black sclera. His arms are bleeding, just barely noticeable on the black of his arms that goes up past his elbow where tendrils of ink disappear into the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Eyebrows furrowed, Vessel's entire face is creased in pain, in terror. Vessel has heavy eyebags and dark circles, and the saddest eyes II has ever seen. There is no life in them, no spark, an empty void. There is no will to live.
When II sees him, the bond opens like a floodgate and the shorter man is struck with the sheer intensity of the emotions on Vessel's face, but also his self-loathing, his sadness. II moves quickly, too quickly by the harsh jerk back Vessel does to get away, the fear heightening along with the strangeness of expectation. Expectation for what, II is scared to know so he stops moving entirely. He focuses instead on keeping his end of the bond as calm as possible, trying not to overwhelm Vessel.
Vessel can't meet his eyes, though its clear he's trying to force himself to, and II is quick to reassure him its not necessary. II pulls up his mask to bare his lips and lower jaw, tries to keep a smile on his face, to reassure the other man, but it threatens to slip with every tear that falls from Vessel's eyes, every fearful glance at II's hands. Its breaking II's heart to see him like this. There is also anger, a small thing that II can't allow to grow right now for fear of Vessel thinking it was directed at him. If II ever meets whoever did this to Vessel he'd kill them. He swears it. Swears it on his soul itself, with the wrath of this life and every one after.
II hasn't known Vessel long, but II knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he deserved the world, that he didn't deserve whatever abuse made him this way.
He didn't deserve to feel so lowly about himself he actively cuts into his own arms.
"I'm sorry." Its strange to hear Vessel's voice without the barrier of the mask that muffled it a bit.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Ves, its okay. Its okay." Reaching forward, slower now and giving Vessel ample time to pull away, II takes one hand in his as Vessel lurches forward to puke into the toilet again.
His dark hair falls over his face, and II shuffles as close as he dares, using his available hand to pull it away and hold the soft, messy strands at Vessel's nape gently.
When that wave of vomiting is over, II asks in as gentle of a tone as he can, "Can I clean up your arms? You're still bleeding."
Vessel doesn't want to admit that he wants it to hurt longer, that he feels he deserves the pain. He used a power that wasn't his to use, and now he has two more pairs of fucking eyes. If Vessel wasn't ugly before, he certainly is now. He deserves the hurt, the pain, every moment of it. He would rather pull his own teeth out than admit any of this to II, who's had unshed tears in his eyes ever since he first laid eyes on Vessel's pathetic form.
He nods, and hopes the cleanup hurts. Can't wait for II to leave him alone so he can add more.
II gets out the medkit and silently laments having to use it so soon. It was only for emergencies, but II has the worst feeling that its something they'll need to stock up regularly.
He knows the antiseptic stings, and II can't stop the tears that shed as Vessel doesn't wince, doesn't make a sound, can't stop them when he feels so many more cuts than he saw before, not to mention the multitude of scars that are a darker shade of grey that he can barely see. II knows that if he hadn't gotten this close of a look, it would have taken ages to see, to notice, and it hurts that without this bond, he might never have known about the self-harm at all.
'Thank you, Sleep. I- I know I've only just met him, barely spent much time with him, but- Vessel- this bond, I can help him now, if he'll continue to let me. Thank you.' II directs his thoughts to Sleep's presence, hoping the God can hear him.
The answering brush against his mind, returned gratitude sent down the bond he shares with the God by simply being a vessel, tells him more than any words. Sleep did this on purpose, this bond between he and Vessel, bringing them together.
II wraps gauze around Vessel's arms, thankful that it wasn't his entire forearm this time, unlike where his scars tell him he's cut before. "Let's get you into bed. It's my turn to take care of you."
"No, no- you've done enough, please, I'm fine. I can make it back to my room on my own. I can take care of myself, II." Vessel tries to be stern, but he's still crying, voice broken and hoarse.
He stands, the bond slamming shut, feeling like its crashed down on II's beating heart instead of simply locking away Vessel's emotions, and II follows, trying to reason with him and keep his frustration well away from the bond. "Vessel, you're sick, let me help you."
Arms held out to catch him if he starts to fall, II follows behind Vessel as the other man stumbles out of the bathroom. He bumps into the wall, then the first step of the staircase after feeling his way to the steps with the banister pillars.
"I don't need help, I'm fine, II. I know how to take care of myself, I swear." Vessel stumbles, one hand on the rail and the other trying to shield his eyes. He misses a step and II winces at the sound of his knee crashing into the hard wood. Vessel doesn't stop, feeling his way up the steps now, the vines along the walls, baseboards, and banister reaching out and brushing his hands as he goes. His tears are leaving splotches of gold on his shirt and the steps.
II has had just about enough of this, trying his hardest to keep his voice level, to not raise it in his frustration, "You shouldn't have to take care of yourself all of the time, even if you know how! I want you to rely on me, I want to be someone you can trust."
It starts as a buzz of pain over the bond. As Vessel gets more upset, it heightens, the door of his mind creaking open with every passing moment, leaving more and more of his emotions bared for II again. Vessel wants to lay down and never wake up. Anything to get away from this.
"It's not that easy." Vessel moans, nearly to the top of the stairs now.
When II moves to help him stand, he jerks back as though burned and II frowns, devastated at this entire situation, "Why isn't it? I want to help you Vessel, but I can't if you don't let me in."
Vessel sobs, stopping just in the upstairs sitting room, pillowing his head on his arms. He doesn't know how to let II in, is scared to try, to want to try. Vessel has never been cared for, he doesn't know how to let himself be cared for. Ever since II got here, everything Vessel knew about himself and how he expected to be treated has been upended.
'My vessel, you asked to be loved.'
'What does that have to do with anything!?' He cries, frustration like a hurricane inside him, trying so, so hard not to crush into sand at the force.
II crouches beside him, gentle hands lifting him up though Vessel doesn't make it easy, dead weight dragging him down, but II is strong, almost- almost too strong to be normal.
'Let him love you.'
'He doesn't even know me! Once he sees- sees how broken I am he will leave.'
'My vessel, has he left yet?'
'No.' Vessel's voice is small as II leads them down the hallway to Vessel's room, holding most of his weight as Vessel sobs silently, his head aching like a battering ram was slamming against it. 'He saw my cuts- my new eyes. He- II saw me, behind my mask.'
'He did not leave you, and he won't. You have to trust him.'
'I trusted my parents to take care of me, my God. They did not. I trusted who I thought were friends, and they only cared about what I could do for them. I trusted each and every one of my partners and they all broke me into fractions that can never be repaired.'
'Do you think I would have chosen a vessel that would treat you wrong? You are my First, my dearest Vessel. I do not understand your human emotions, and even less the pain the species on your planet feel, but I would never choose to bring another human who I thought would hurt you. Let the second in, my vessel, and if he breaks you like the other humans in your life, I will break him in return. There will be no coming back from the damage I will inflict.'
II helps Vessel lay down, going to grab a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. Vessel opens his eyes, squinting at the pain the action causes, at all the information overloading his brain. He can't see, can't process anything around him and his brain is melting- its going to melt right out of his ears-
Vessel's chest heaves and he chokes out a broken sob, suddenly so desperate not to be alone, but doesn't know how to ask. "II? I- I can't see you."
"What?" II is at his side in an instant, clothes tossed beside him on the bed.
With careful, slow movements, II takes his hands in his, "These eyes." Vessel sobs, "They're new. I- its like having triple vision- so much information, my brain, I can't think- it hurts. I can't see anything."
"It's alright Vessel, I'm sure its only temporary. Sleep wouldn't give you something you couldn't heal from. I'll be right back, I'm just going to get something to clean you up."
"Sleep didn't give me these. They said I gave them to myself." Vessel remarks quietly, wiping at his tears with the back of his hand.
It smears gold with the blood still on his face. All six eyes are closed now, Vessel giving up trying to see past the squinting, and golden tears clump his dark eyelashes together as they brush his cheeks. He truly is beautiful, II thinks. His voice, his visage, otherworldly almost, with the six eyes. He looks nothing less than a vessel for the divine, as tear stained, bandaged, and despaired as he is.
"They- You gave them to yourself?" II pauses at the door, not understanding, his confusion passing freely through the bond.
"Not on purpose. I- I used one of their powers that wasn't given to me at my creation, and apparently caused more of Sleep's essence to become entwined with mine, which led to more of their features." Vessel explains, a resigned expression on his face, but he doesn't regret it, not using his Gods power at least.
Not if it meant II was in far less pain.
II isn't sure what to say, so instead offers a reassuring smile and the sentiment that he'll be right back. He works quickly to grab cloths to wipe off Vessel's face, a plastic bag for him to puke in, and picks up his mask from the bathroom floor. It's heavy in his hands, but not from the weight. How much has Vessel hidden from him with this on? The man's face is an open book without it, though II can see he tries so hard to hide what he's feeling, but can't manage it like he can their bond.
II holds the mask to his chest carefully, like it will shatter if he even looks at it wrong. The surface is smooth and clean except for the designs, and II wonders if that is a testament to the sturdiness of the material or Vessel's care of it.
When he gets back to Vessel's room, the other man has sat up, shirt off and exposing his upper torso, and it seems he managed to get half into the pajama pants, though they sit barely above the knee and he looks as though he wants to collapse back onto the bed. There are tree-like markings, swirls and branches, like the ones on their arms, that reach over his shoulders and rest along his collarbones, with a few very small leaves, almost like the bough of a tree. Along his ribs, weaving between the bones, are branches that reach around from his back. A small sigil, like the one on the wall of the altar room and marks his mask, sits in the hollow of his neck, blood red like his eyes.
There are scars on both arms, but the ones on his thighs, and peeking over the waistband of his boxers are far more noticeable, thinner than the ones on his arms but stretching along the length of his hips. II tries not to stare, but he lets his sadness pass over the bond without restraint, painting a smile on his face.
"Do you need help getting dressed?"
Vessel's ears redden in embarrassment and the way his blush spreads over his cheeks and a little of his bottom pair of eyes is very cute. It's just- even as he blushes so prettily there's this air of hesitancy, of misery and shame. So much shame.
"Yes, please."
As II helps Vessel pull his pants over his hips, he tries his hardest not to let them brush against his scars. It does not reassure Vessel like he hopes. "I know they're disgusting..."
As close as he is to the other man, Vessel's whisper is heard clearly and II's heart has already been broken so many times today, but it can clearly be broken at least once more. He'll never be able to pick up the pieces at this rate.
"They're not ugly, Vessel. Your scars have never, and will never, disgust or even bother me in any way. They just- they make me sad, and I thought you might not want me to touch them is all."
Slipping the shirt over Vessel's head with a little difficulty, even as the other man tries to help, Vessel continues, sounding more and more upset again, "I don't understand why you are doing any of this, or why you never ask me to- to be quiet, to talk more, or demand I show my face. You're nothing like I expected. I don't understand you."
"I care about you, Vessel. It is that simple." II aims for soothing, but he knows that no matter how many times he says it, Vessel may never believe him.
"No one ever cared before you! I don't- II, I don't know how to handle you. You're so kind to me, I've never had anyone- please, tell me how to act. How do you want me? I can be silent, I- I can stay out of your way if you're in the room. You'll never even see me if that's what you want. I know how to be happy- or lifeless like a doll, if that's what you prefer. Just- please, I don't know what to do. You're always offering to help me with things or are so considerate of what I'm feeling, or might feel. I don't understand." Vessel cries and II wants to sob, to hold Vessel tightly in his arms and never let go.
Who destroyed this man so completely that he'd change his entire being just to please II?
"Can I hug you?" II asks, and is dejected when Vessel says no, so quickly II is almost shocked, but he accepts the answer and moves on, asking if he can hold his hands instead, to which Vessel nods.
"You don't need to change yourself for me. I want you exactly as you are, as yourself, no matter the circumstance."
"No one's ever wanted just me." Vessel whimpers, tightening his hold on II's hands. "I was never enough, I had to be exactly what they wanted for them to stay."
"Well, they were idiots who deserve to rot for the rest of eternity. You deserve to be yourself, to be loved and cared for as you are." II replies firmly, voice leaving no room for question, brows slightly furrowed under the mask.
It startles a laugh out of Vessel, a quiet huff of air and a small quirk of the lips that leaves II reeling at the majesty of such a small action. In a desperate bid to keep some control, II ignores how his admiration flows over the bond and causes Vessel's cheeks and ears to tinge red again, "You mind if I clean you up?"
The blushes on their faces deepen further, but Vessel seems to be thinking something over before finally coming to a decision and nods. II refuses to give thought to the way he misses Vessel's hand in his own as he pulls one away to work. The blood and tears come off with only a little, light scrubbing with a damp cloth. Vessel is unnaturally warm under his hands, which is unusual since II remembers he is usually quite cool to the touch. He is shivering as II hands him his mask. As it is handed over, it flickers, going translucent and back to solid repeatedly. Placing it on his face, the mask settles on a form that bares his mouth. Vessel cannot see it, but can feel the difference.
"Why did-" II starts, but stops as Vessel shakes his head slightly.
"Sleep told me it could do this, though this version of my mask is unfamiliar to me. I just- was too afraid to show you any part of me longer than a glance. I... I am still afraid." Vessel admits, keeping his eyes low.
Despite the words saddening II, it also gives him a little hope. Already, Vessel has opened up more to him. He supposes seeing someone at their worst means there is little reason to hide all the time.
II hums, helping Vessel lay down. He collapses into the only pillow on the bed, weak. Its time to repay Vessel the favor of caring for him while sick, though II wishes the other man didn't have to deal with any of this at all.
He wonders if it is related to the new eyes, or something else entirely. Wonders what Vessel did to gain them.
"It is okay to be afraid. Everyone is afraid sometimes, has something they're afraid of."
"I'm afraid of so many things that I fear you will give up on me once you see how truly weak I am." Vessel admits quietly, squinting up at II through blurry eyes that shoot pain through his skull every few moments.
"I will never give up on you." II states firmly, "Whenever you're afraid, you can come to me. I'll be there for you, Vessel, no matter what."
"I fear being a burden, so deeply that I ache with it constantly." Vessel sounds as though he's speaking through gritted teeth, like the words were being forced out of him, and II knows it must be hard for him to open up like this, but he appreciates it.
"Will you feel better if I burden you in return then?"
"You could never burde-"
"Let me finish, Ves." II admonishes gently, and is surprised that Vessel's answering flinch is small and not outright jerking away from II.
"I have nightmares of my death. It haunts me almost every night since I woke up from my transformation. When I wake, I can't stop shaking, can't stop crying until exhaustion kicks in. Can I come to you and keep you company whenever I have a nightmare?"
It's a lot to ask, II knows, when the other man is so adverse to touch that isn't holding hands, but II knows how to keep his hands to himself when it really matters. And he really does want comfort, desperately, when he wakes up and can still feel his lungs filling with blood, feel how it burns his throat and bubbles past his lips and can still remember the exact foggy blue of the sky above him as-
"II! II, its okay! Shit, I don't know how to comfort others..." There's a hand on his cheek, wiping away the tears under his eyes and seeping into his mask with gentle claws.
A soft, raspy humming fills the room as Vessel struggles to calm down the second vessel through a throat thick with tar.
II comes back to himself, leaning imperceptibly into the cool skin of Vessel's hands, though the other man still sweats and shakes with a fever.
"I'm sorry." II apologizes, feeling bad for getting lost in his own head when Vessel is suffering right now.
"If..." Vessel hesitates before steeling his resolve, even as his fingers tremble where it still rests on II's cheek, "If I cannot apologize for- for my reactions to things, then you cannot apologize for yours either."
II chuckles, leaning into Vessel's hand just a little bit more. "I suppose we'll work on our communication then."
"Your communication skills are- far, far above my own." Vessel says, and II lets his gaze linger on the other man's lips as he smiles.
The angel bites add to the pretty curve of Vessel's lips, and II forces himself to look away, lest his gaze lingers too long on his first real, non-delirious look at Vessel's smile, tired as it is. "I'll leave you to get some rest." II says, finally, after a few silent moments of just... existing with the other man.
II very carefully removes Vessel's hand from his cheek, bringing it up to his mouth in a not-quite kiss then places it gently down on the bed. As he goes to leave, that same hand blindly waves around trying to find any part of II he can grab.
"Can- can you stay here tonight?" Vessel's voice is small, hesitant, expecting outright rejection, "Y-you don't have to!"
His bond radiates hope, and who is II to kill it?
"I'd like that actually." II admits, "It hasn't been fun waking up alone with the taste of iron in my mouth and the phantom sensation of struggling to breathe through blood-filled lungs."
Vessel frowns, wishing there was some way he could help. He wonders if his new ability to put people to sleep means he could also influence the dreams they have.
II goes to get his pillow and figure out where Elvira has made off to, promising Vessel that he would come back. Even with that promise, II tries not to stay away long. As sad as it is, it is also endearing at how hopefully eager Vessel looked when II said he would be back soon.
If by some miracle from their God, II ever comes across the people who did this to Vessel, he's going to curb-stomp their fucking faces in.
The thought of violence on Vessel's behalf causes a stream of encouragement from Sleep. II lets out a small laugh as he changes into pajamas quickly. He picks up Elvira and squishes his pillow and blanket into his other arm as he makes his way back to Vessel's room. At least he and Sleep are in agreement on that regard.
Vessel lays in the same spot II left him, one arm slung over his eyes while the other rests at his side where II set it down. "Are you alright?" II asks, quiet, so as to not startle the ailing man.
"Head hurts." Vessel mutters, not moving an inch.
After II sets his things down on the other side of the bed, he lays a hand on Vessel's cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, frowning at the temperature. "I'll go get some medicine from the store tomorrow. Try- try to rest your eyes and mind as much as you can."
Nodding minutely, Vessel says nothing, mouth pulled into a grimace as tears leak down his cheeks where his arm doesn't cover all of his eyes. II climbs into bed, pulling the blanket over both of them and holding Vessel's hand tightly, rubbing soothing circles on the top. Isn't there anything II could do for him?
II eventually falls asleep after hours of laying awake, speaking quietly to Vessel about anything he could think of, explaining the intricacies of drumming and all the little things he personally implements into his playstyle. He struggles valiantly to keep his eyes open, and when Vessel's eyes could handle it, he would watch, endeared as II's pretty blues (so much brighter now that his sclera have turned black like Vessel's) would flutter, trying to stay awake. The bond between them remains filled with II's contentment and worry, leaving no room for doubt in Vessel's mind that the man wants to be here beside him, is worried for him.
Vessel doesn't deserve II, he knows he doesn't, but he wants him to stick around, to stay here, as a vessel, with him. He hates how quickly he is becoming attached, hopes he isn't driving II away by letting himself loosen his leash on his own self. Vessel was always too much and never enough. Always.
II wakes once during the night, nearing daybreak, and Vessel somehow knows its going to happen. He thrashes underneath the blanket, as though fighting off an invisible attacker. Vessel is as alert as he can be instantly, holding II's hand and speaking in a low, calming voice. The bond is ravaged with distress and fear, so much fear its choking Vessel's lungs with its potency, his own worry and distress skyrocketing. He immediately locks his own emotions behind the door of his mind tightly. The last thing II needs is Vessel's own emotions to overwhelm him.
"You're safe II. We're at the manor, in my room. Elvira is at the foot of the bed, staring in contempt at being woken up. The sun is going to rise soon." Vessel repeats in between gentle humming of a random tune for what feels like the longest two minutes he's ever experienced, no matter how his voice strains under his sore throat and his head screams at him to shut his eyes, though no light enters the room.
II shoots up, gasping as a sob rips out of his throat, free hand pressed firmly to his chest as though he was still bleeding out. "Vessel?" He asks quietly, crystal tears with flecks of gold trailing down his cheeks, blue eyes glimmering. "You're here?"
"I'm here. You're safe, II. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again." Vessel reaches up one hand to gently card his fingers through the sweaty mess of II's hair.
II holds Vessel's hand tightly, like a lifeline, broken sobs leaving his lips in loud gasps and cries. His touch is cold, but II couldn't ask for anything more. The simple action helps ground II, listening intently to Vessel's stumbling, soothing reassurances, focusing on calming his breathing. With their masks lain to the side, Vessel is easily able to wipe II's tears with a cold touch that sends shivers down II's spine.
"Thank you." II says finally, after an undetermined amount of time just sitting in each others presence as II calmed down.
Vessel smiles a small thing, a mere quirk of his lips, but his sincerity is felt in II's bones as he says a simple, "Anytime."
II smiles back tiredly, exhausted but almost unwilling to go back to sleep. II lays back down, so Vessel follows. The blanket is pulled over both of them, and for a time there is only the soft snoring of Elvira at their feet and Vessel's wheezing, labored breathing. They lay side by side, arms pressed against each other, and II turns his head to find Vessel already looking at him. Vessel blushes, a pretty pink overtaking his face, and looks away quickly. "Can I hold your hand?" II asks, and Vessel agrees after a moment of hesitation.
If II knew to pay attention, he would feel the lack of heartbeat. Yet, he did not know better, none of them will until the reality of just how far Vessel would go to be loved crashes down on them in the worst way imaginable. For now, Vessel will limit contact, no matter how he craves it, a hunger he can't control but one he knows to ignore. He has had years of practice in ignoring his longing for affection. How was he to know that II would crumble those walls with a glance and a pretty little single-dimpled smile. That others would come and worm their ways into his chest where his heart used to rest and make a home.
II's hand in warm in Vessel's own, wrists not quite pressed together. Vessel wishes he could touch more of II, even if it was through clothes. Maybe he'll take to wearing more long sleeves or his hoodie more often, just to be able to hold II a little closer like that again, if the other man allows it. It would help to hide the cuts and scars that would surely be added onto as soon as Vessel gets the chance.
"Can I lean my head on your shoulder?" II whispers in a breath Vessel barely heard.
Vessel's breath catches in his throat, and if his heart were in his chest it would be pounding like a jackhammer. As it is, the vines in the house shudder once, twice, for the seconds it takes for Vessel to answer with a breathy 'yes' barely louder than II's question, a rattling cough following the action as his lungs strain from that brief moment of less oxygen.
The careful weight of II's head against Vessel's clothed shoulder sends Vessel reeling at the intimacy of such a simple action, almost overwhelmed by the joy that stemmed from II's side of the bond. He knows that it is not much different from them already holding hands, but it feels like Vessel has just leaped off a cliff into frigid ocean waters. He can't remember when any of his partners would do something like this except in the beginnings of the relationship, let alone ask in the first place. Vessel was easy to take from, desperate for love and offering his heart up on a silver platter to anyone who showed him the smallest amount of care, and everyone in his life took and took until there was so little of him left but a broken shell of a man full of love that was never for himself. As it stands, offering his heart up this final time, to a God who offered him anything he desired in return, was the right thing to do if only just because Vessel has been gifted this moment.
"Is this okay?" II asks, keeping to their low volume, and sensing Vessel's unease, but also his elation.
"Yes, yes, its fine." Vessels breathes out, afraid anything louder will ruin the moment.
II falls asleep eventually, breaths evening out and face slackening into peace. Elvira has come to lay on Vessel's legs, a purring rumble filling the air as she kneeds his legs through the blanket.
Vessel is... calm. His mind still runs a mile a minute but he is so focused on the feeling of II so close, the warmth of his touch, that at some point, without his notice, Vessel is lulled into as close to sleep as he can get, listening intently to II's breathing.
::
The next day is much the same as the first, Vessel struggling to see through the pain in his head and the bleariness in his eyes, choking on black sludge that tastes worse than anything else he has ever eaten.
II, having stayed with him for most of the day after waking up, comes back after eating lunch to tell Vessel he was heading to the store for pain medication and some other things he hopes would help Vessel feel better.
"'M going." Vessel insists despite II's protests that he needs to stay and rest.
He crawls out of bed, blinking blearily and crumbles to the floor. Tears prick his eyes, but he refuses to let them fall. His head aches so terribly, but he has to go with II. He has to.
"Vessel, I really think its better if you stay." II attempts to persuade him, taking Vessel's bicep and elbow to help him stand.
"Don't wanna be 'lone." Vessel manages to get out, and II's gaze softens, eyes squinting up a bit, and he relents.
Grabbing the keys, II wraps a blanket around Vessel's shoulders and stuffs his pillow in his arms. Vessel clutches it to his chest, blinking blearily as II puts his mask on his face after adjusting his own so its sits properly. Vessel feels useless, but II won't even let him get a word of protest in, simply shushing him gently, as II helps him navigate the stairs.
Maybe he should have stayed at the house, Vessel thinks, as II manages to stop Vessel from tumbling down the staircase halfway down. He'd feel like less of a burden that way, surely. Already his anxiety is through the roof but he thinks if he tells II to go ahead without him, his anxiety will just build and build until he absolutely has to cut into himself to ease it. Vessel desperately doesn't want II to find him doing that again, as inevitable as he knows it is.
When II finally gets them outside, he sighs as quietly as he can manage, worried that Vessel's legs will give out before they can make it to the car. There is a push from Sleep to look around himself, so he does, and what he sees surprises him. There is a road leading into the forest, each side marked by a white ribbon tied to a low hanging branch of the trees beside it. II and Vessel make their way slowly down it, autumn leaves crunching underfoot. II keeps an eye on Vessel the whole way, admiring how the fractals of light from between the canopies above shine down upon the others unruly hair, creating patterns of yellow, gold, and orange.
Vessel is breathtaking, even sick and stumbling like a drunk man.
II finds that the road cuts the time it would usually take to get to the car in half, to only thirty minutes. A prayer is sent to Sleep in thanks, the God having already done so much more than asked. Vessel leans lightly against him, but every move to try and hold him better leads to Vessel pulling away.
Within minutes of reaching the rundown vehicle, Vessel is sitting curled up in the passenger seat, as much as a man of his size can, with a blanket spread over his lap, and mask held uncomfortably on his face as it is buried under his bedroom pillow to block out light. An unused plastic grocery bag sits at his feet in case he needs to throw up. II keeps one hand holding Vessel's as he drives, the only sound the hum of the car and the low thrum of whatever CD he has picked out. Vessel is thankful that his migraines are made worse by light, and not sound, as thankful as one can be out and about in full daylight. It is both hilarious and sad how far II has to adjust the seat forward so he can reach the pedals, and Vessel holds back a laugh at the sight.
When the car stops, II leaves the car running, the music playing. Promising to be back as quickly as he can, II locks the doors and heads inside the store with a heavy heart and moving like fire were at his heels.
Passing the home decor section, II has a sudden thought, uncaring of the stares he is getting for the mask. II has always brought attention on himself with his alternative clothing and piercings, getting stared at is nothing out of the ordinary, he remembers.
'Sleep, are we going to have issues with light forever? It hurts Vessel and I to be in direct sunlight, and especially right now, Vessel's eyes are extremely sensitive.'
It takes a moment for the God to respond, voice a little distant. 'Your eyes will adjust to the light soon enough, give it time. My first may always be sensitive, but it should lessen to merely being intensely bright lights, or sunlight for long periods that cause pain.' Sleep assures.
'Ah, I see. Thank you, Sleep.'
'Of course, my second.' Sleep responds fondly, voice already fading.
II grabs a couple of plain lamps, a few nightlights and a set of black-out curtains. As II makes his way to the pharmacy section, he passes a large box full of halloween items on clearance. II doesn't really remember what time of year it is, but it must be fate because at the very bottom, one of only two left, is a fluffy plague doctor plushie of a medium size. From its beak, a poppy peeks out, and in it's hands is a Victorian style lantern.
One quick glance and II wants to get it for Vessel. Admittedly, II isn't one for plushies, and he has no way of knowing if Vessel is either, but he wants to get it for him anyway. He wants to see the other man's reaction so badly his heart races in his chest.
II wonders if Vessel would mind if he got a radio and some other things for entertainment before going ahead and getting some things anyway. Vessel can't lay there sick and awake, without something to do.
Other than his find, II makes quick work of the store trip, eager to get back to Vessel. A sigh of relief falls from his lips as he opens the door and Vessel stirs, mask moving up to look in his direction and II holds out his gift with trembling fingers and a heart full of hope.
The uncertainty he stewed in gathering the rest of the items he needed was worth the way all six of Vessel's eyes lit up, a spark of life finally filling them for a moment as the man takes the plush with fingers that tremble just the same as II's.
Fleetingly, with a rueful smile, II wishes he could see his full face, but he supposes the way Vessel's smile was the biggest he'd ever seen would have to do.
"I can't wait to see this properly." Vessel says, looking between II and the plaguedoctor plush with the brightest eyes II has ever seen.
II's heart races, and little butterflies flutter in his stomach, but he smiles back just as wide. "Suppose you'll just have to get better quicker, then?"
Vessel huffs a laugh, bringing the plushie up to cover his mouth that the mask leaves bare, but his smile never falters from behind the plush material. He wishes he could see II's dimple, but the other man's mask is pulled down all the way to where it usually sits around his neck, eyes crinkled at the edges as II squints like he's the one who can't see properly. Its so fucking endearing and Vessel knows, without a shadow of a doubt that if his heart still beat in his chest, he would have offered it up to the other man right then. A prayer of thanks is sent to Sleep, and a subtle 'I told you so' was sent back, causing Vessel to smile wider.
"Mind if I do your hair?" II asks, waving a cluster of newly bought hair ties in hand, and Vessel nods, further surprised by all II is continuing to do for him.
He turns around as best as he can, long limbs making it difficult to move around, and lets II run his fingers through his hair to get it a little less knotted. The mess of hair, differing lengths in something resembling a grown out wolf cut, is soft under II's touch. "Can you move your mask from your face a little?" II requests, and Vessel aquiesces easily.
II's gentle hands pulls the few framing strands of hair from under the mask, pulling all of his hair back into a ponytail that keeps the hair away from his face. It'll make puking into that grocery bag much easier, Vessel realizes, running his fingers over the felt material of the plaguedoctor's lantern.
Vessel's voice is barely normal volume when he asks, feeling down the ponytail with nimble fingers, "You know how to do hair?"
II shrugs as he responds, "My mother-"
He pauses, frowning, eyebrows furrowed in thought as Vessel rights himself in the seat, plushie held securely in his lap. "My mothers," he corrects, "meant to teach me how. I- I just never made the time. I should've."
"You had people who cared for you before you joined Sleep?" Vessel asks, sad for the other man.
Vessel had no one, so he can't imagine how it must feel to have willingly left family behind.
"I think I did. I- I don't regret my choice to be here, I know I don't. I was meant for this, I can feel it in my bones, y'know?"
Vessel thinks back to how he had nothing, no one, was so alone and hated himself so utterly that he killed himself and only then was he brought to his God. Vessel really isn't sure he was meant for this, to be the vessel of a God alongside this man who is already beginning to mean more to Vessel than his heart can bare when he eventually leaves. He merely waits for the day Sleep realizes that these new vessels will spread their message far better than he ever could, and tosses him aside once he is of no use anymore. It always turns out that way.
Vessel smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, I know."
He doesn't.
Before II pulls out of the parking spot after putting it in reverse, he offers his hand to Vessel. Vessel clutches the plushie with one arm, taking II's hand with his and holding it reverently. He notices that he didn't even hesitate this time, and wonders when he got so soft, so pathetic and quick to break under his convictions. One of his previous partners would always slap his hand away when he wanted to hold theirs, so Vessel stopped trying. His third partner, who saved him from his previous, was- well, not so nice, but in a thankfully less physical way. II has yet to do anything like that, and its becoming apparent that if he did, Vessel would crumble away from the agony of the first person to act like they for care him finally realizing how undeserving of that care Vessel really is.
The drive back to the manor is uneventful, filled with whatever CD was playing in the radio while Vessel kept his head covered to block out the sun. II keeps a careful eye on the road, but also on Vessel. The other man is feeling a bit better today, it seems, though there is a twinge of pain from the bond that he keeps cracked open, but otherwise, II is happy to say Vessel seems as content as he can be, but II worries he is only projecting calm.
Pulling up to the road leading to the manor, II contemplates leaving the car where it usually sits, but decides against it. It fits through the small space easily, and II watches in the rear view mirror as the tree trunks on either side widen, branches reaching over and entwining, leaving no space for a vehicle to pass through. Eyes wide, he turns back to the road to be sure he doesn't crash the car, his surprise flitting over the bond.
"Y' 'kay?" Vessel mumbles, lightly squeezing II's hand to get his attention, drowsy but awake even now.
His mind begs for rest, but he knows he will not get it.
"The forest blocked off the road we're on at the invisible divide between the outside world and Sleep's mortal realm." II explains, and Vessel hums in response, satisfied with the answer.
"To keep people out." Vessel surmises, blinking blearily up at II whose eyes remain on the road, but Vessel appreciates the small squeeze of his hand that II does in acknowledgement that Vessel spoke.
After parking the car by the house, its a much easier affair getting Vessel into his room than it was before they left. Wrapped up in the blanket as he is, Vessel leans heavily onto II's side, the most contact they've had thus far despite the layers and layers of material between them. II's arm is wrapped around Vessel's shoulder, holding tightly to his bicep. His mask juts uncomfortably into II's shoulder where his head leans. II wouldn't ask him to lift his head for the world. To be allowed this much contact when it was clear Vessel shied away from anything more intimate than holding hands was a miracle II wasn't going to shun.
He worries that once Vessel is better, the other man will pull away. II knows its likely, and hates how quickly he realizes that he'll miss this.
Vessel clutches his plushie to his chest as he sits on his bed with both arms while II goes back and forth between the manor and the car. He sets up Vessel's blackout curtains and lamp. After plugging in the radio and setting it on the floor next to the lamp, he heads out to grab some of Vessel's cd's, making a note to buy some damn nightstands. When Vessel is better, they'll need to go back to the store.
So far, most of this being a Gods vessel thing has been grocery shopping and refurnishing the house. And lots of sickness.
As II comes back in for hopefully the final time, Vessel is watching him, mask off and all six eyes peeking over the hood of his plushie. The red of his irises stand out starkly against the black of his sclera, and as the other man blinks, they seem to glow in the low light. Already pieces of hair have slipped free from the ponytail II had pulled Vessel's hair into, little strands curling at the edges in wild waves that stick to his sweaty cheekbones and forehead, face flush from the fever. II wishes he had a phone, just so he could take a photo. Alas, his phone had been lost with his death. They should probably get some new ones. It's not like they're wanting for money.
Vessel raises an eyebrow at II's still form, locked in place in the doorframe, pretty blues simply staring him down. He wonders what it is II saw to make him freeze like that, pulling his plushie up further and hiding his face in its soft material.
"I noticed sound hurt less than light so I figured you'd enjoy some of your music since there isn't much else you can do right now?" II says, finally, moving further into the room as Elvira weaves between his feet, waving Vessel's CD case around in hand for emphasis.
Vessel says an agreement that ends up muffled by the plushie, but II understands anyway, bringing the CD case over so he can read through Vessel's collection aloud. Vessel listens intently to II, even after a CD is chosen and playing on the radio. II stays awake as long as he can, settling in beside Vessel at some point after having the sick man take some pain killers. II falls asleep turned on his side as Vessel is, facing each other, one hand in Vessel's and the other clutching the sleeve of his hoodie. Elvira curls up at the windowsill behind the curtains where a new pet bed sits.
During the night, II's eyebrows furrow and there is this growing feeling of hunger in Vessel's stomach, loud sounds emitting from his body that Vessel worries will wake II. Vessel senses something, though he isn't sure what, only that it is familiar. On instinct, Vessel reaches out with Sleep's power as it aches in his chest in time with Vessel's hunger.
In his sleep, II's hand has loosened its hold on Vessel's hoodie and Vessel is reaching out, laying a palm against II's temple as the other man sleeps. Before Vessel truly realizes what is going on, an inky swirling black mass filled with glimmering pieces of white, like stars, is encased in his palm, clawed fingers gripping it tightly as he pulls his hand from II's temple, more of the inky substance following the motion.
It gets lost in the darkness of his skin, but Vessel feels it in his palm, soft and wispy around the edges like a... dream.
II's eyebrows even out, face falling into a neutral expression. Vessel breathes a sigh of relief before his attention flits back to the thing in his hand. Without being fully aware of his actions, driven only by an instinct from within his soul, Vessel sits up enough to swallow the thing whole.
It slides down his throat smoothly, settling in his stomach with ease. His hunger abates, stomach satisfied for the first since he became a vessel, but his mind is in a frenzy of confusion and elation, buzzing throughout his body like a livewire.
He shuts his bond off, closing the door with a resounding mental click, II's emotions come through a little muffled afterwards but there isn't a lot of time to focus on that as-
There's yelling in his ears. Someone is demanding money, threats of violence and murder. He feels his own hand as it slams into a jaw, a resounding crack. A body slams into him, he falls, a fist against his cheek, his brow. The asphalt beneath him is cold and disgusting but the sky above is beautiful, an expanse of murky blue with stars peeking through. Feels the knife slide into his chest, once, twice, three times. Spit lands on his cheek after his clothing is rifled through.
"All that fight for twenty fucking dollars?" His attacker mutters, kicking his side as he makes to escape quickly.
It knocks the breath from his lungs. There is something in his throat, bubbling up past his lips. An uncontrollable cough splatters something wet on his face and clothes. He lays there for who knows how long, a grin pulling at his lips, a baring of teeth more than anything. He's dying, but he gave almost as much as he got. It gets cold, colder than the ground beneath him. He wants his cat, hopes his mom won't get rid of her cause she's allergic-
Vessel gasps, coming back to himself. A sob falls from parted lips, gasping breaths as he paws at his chest like the knife was still there, like the wounds still bleed.
This was how II died. Vessel feels it in his very soul.
Vessel's breaths come a little shorter, a little harder to intake, but he won't wake II, refuses to wake him when the other man doesn't stir once during the night, bond remaining a fuzzy sort of peaceful after Vessel ate whatever that was... He thinks it may have been II's nightmare.
It tasted... good. Vessel wants more. Longs for more even as his panic ravages his nervous system, body wracked with shaking as his mind runs wild, clawed fingers digging into his arms, careful not to ruin his favorite hoodie even now, even as tears slip down his cheeks and wet his hair, gold blurring his vision. He feels blood gather in the bandages where the wounds haven't healed all the way, but refuses to move, to do anything but stare up at the ceiling. He'll wait for this to pass, as he always does. When he's better, II will stop being so caring anyway. It's better this way.
::
When II wakes in the morning, he notices first Vessel's labored breathing and clammy skin. A smear of gold at the corner of one of his pairs of eyes, of it in his hair and by his pierced ears. His eyes are closed, but II knows he isn't asleep. That he cannot sleep, even if he wishes to. His eyes are creased in pain, scrunched so tightly they're thin lines on his face, mask lain off to the side, and his lips are pulled tight into a grimace.
II sits up and dabs at Vessel's sweaty forehead with a clean cloth he'd been setting aside for it, upset at the other being unable to sleep during any of this. Upset that Vessel didn't wake him up when it's clear he's been crying. II asks his God aloud if they could let Vessel sleep, even if only for a little while, but the reply causes bitter displeasure to well up within him.
"Vessel has tapped into a power not given to him, my second. He must suffer the consequences, awake, as is his Holy Duty."
Vessel sighs, resigned, already knowing this to be the case, and as used to pain as he is, it doesn't upset him much, easily accepting this answer. II, on the other hand, is not so accepting.
"Can this Holy Duty not wait until he is better?"
"My first did this for-"
'Do not tell him, my God. Please. He doesn't need to know. I am fine with staying awake for this. As you said, it is the consequence of my decision.'
"...Sleep, why did you stop speaking?"
"It is nothing you need concern yourself with, my second. The First will remain awake. He has already agreed to do so."
II turns sharply to stare Vessel down, not able to help the bite in his words, though he regrets it immediately, "Vessel! Why would you-? You don't have to punish yourself even further!"
Vessel cringes away, unable to meet II's eyes, clutching his plushie to his chest, trying to hide behind it. II apologizes for his tone and volume, but makes sure Vessel knows that he does not deserve to suffer. He knows it will take more than a few words in such a short amount of time, but II can only hope that he'll get through to Vessel eventually.
I do deserve it, Vessel thinks. I deserve every bit of this, and I'd do it a million times over if it meant I could still take away II's pain. To see him like that during his transformation... it was nothing short of torture. Vessel knows he shouldn't get attached so easily, but his mind and heart are not always in agreement.
Vessel continues with a fever that he cannot escape from, one that makes him relive memories with people whose faces he cannot see, cannot remember. He remembers the pain they caused, and while the faces and names are indecipherable, the memories, their actions remain in almost vivid detail. He shakes and shivers, but still won't let II any closer to try and keep him warm, never letting his stuffie go, so the shorter man resorts to piling blankets atop him and holding his available hand.
It takes two more days of a fever before it breaks in the afternoon, Vessel's wheezing coughs and aching lungs slowly going away as the days pass. Vessel goes to sit at the piano downstairs at random times of the day, and every time II looks for him, that is where he sits. A journal and pen sits in front of him as he taps out a slow tune on the worn keys, but there is a hint of a smile on his face. The plaguedoctor plush sits on top of the piano, watching over the man as he plays.
"We should probably get to figuring out songs for worship?" II asks, hating to disrupt the other man but knowing this was one of the reasons they were made vessels in the first place.
The smile falls from Vessel's face, but it returns quickly, a shadow of what it was.
Vessel assumed II was going to distance himself due to no longer needing to care for Vessel. He supposes performing one of the few duties their God required of them takes precedence over any annoyance II must feel at Vessel.
II frowns as Vessel presses a few more keys, a low, sad tune not unlike what he was playing before. The other man nods, agreeing, but won't turn to face him, deepening II's frown. II will admit readily that he's worried, but afraid Vessel will pull away entirely. He's given Vessel space, assuming he'd want it after being stuck around II si long while the shorter man took care of him. He wonders, now, if that was the right call.
Vessel gestures to the drumset and asks II quietly if he'd like to show him what he can do. So II does. Shows Vessel some of the songs he's written drums for, shows him covers he's learned and perfected or made him own.
Vessel looks... happy. Awed. To see II at work. Butterflies have made a permanent home in his stomach at the sight of Vessel looking- proud. Proud of II.
"You've clearly put a lot of effort into your instrument. I've never seen someone play the way you do. What are your influences again? Ah, pop, r&b, and gospel, right?" Vessel inquires, genuinely seeming interested.
II knows Vessel has listened to him talk about his drumming before, about his music taste and everything but II- II didn't realize that Vessel listened and remembered.
"Yeah. Metal too, which is mostly what I play. Any free time I had was spent learning the drums and analyzing my favorite drummers. I- I put a lot of time and effort into this." II replies, eyes wide, tapping out a quiet beat on the hi-hats.
"You're good, very good. I see you've worked for this level of skill. I'm not adept with the drums but even I can see that." Vessel affirms, smiling wide as he fixes his position at the piano from where he's turned to watch II play.
"You think you could come up with something for this song?" Vessel asks, beginning to play a soft tune.
II cannot do anything but stare, utterly captivated, as Vessel, masked, takes one last nervous glance at II, a deep, steadying breath, then begins to sing.
"Fold, secrets in the sweat, Like I, Swallow years beneath this bed. Until I wake I, dine on old encounters~" Vessel continues off into a lower register, vocals getting more powerful and already II can imagine what he'd do with him drumkit to follow along with the others man's voice.
It's over long before II wishes it was, and Vessel glances back at him shyly, explaining it was only a small section that he'd completed. It was the first time II had ever heard the other man sing fully before, only soft hums and quiet, almost whispers of lyrics when he was working in his notebook. His control and range was phenomenal, each word deliberately pronounced in a specific way that struck II as odd, but- but entrancing.
"Your voice is beautiful. It must have taken you ages to get that kind of control over it." Vessel blushes at II's compliment, the tips of his pointed ears turning rosy alongside the tint to his cheeks.
"It's not that great. I have a lot to improve on." II frowns slightly at Vessel clearly trying to deflect the compliments but leaves it be.
Something to be worked on, it seems, not that II minds. He'll gladly sing his praises over Vessel's vocal ability until the man finally understands that II truly thinks he's talented.
II thinks back to the song Vessel sung and begins to play what comes to mind. The first few beats don't sound quite right so he tries them a little differently the second go around, and finds it fits much better than before. When II has a good rhythm going, Vessel begins to sing again, those same lines from before.
Sleep's presence becomes more pronounced, their blood singing in tune with the God. Their skin begins to change, both of them, the darkness of their arms spreading up and covering their entire bodies. II's eyes glow bright blue when Vessel glances at him, and knows his must be glowing a bloody red.
II has worked with others in the past, he knows he has, remembers some not so great moments and people, but this sense of rightness, this euphoria when he plays music with Vessel is unlike anything he's ever experienced before. He knows it in his bone marrow, rushing through every vein.
They were meant for this.
It is not easy, despite their skill. They get stuck on certain parts of songs, respectively, give each other space when they need it and ideas or someone to bounce ideas off of when things get overwhelming. It is not easy, when Vessel's lyrics touch his soul so deeply he breaks down into sobs writing them, singing them. Such agony cracks his voice, baring his pain for the world to witness. It breaks II's heart to see him like this, but it is also relieving. Bringing all this pain back to the surface is not without its benefits. Inch by inch, so miniscule you'd barely notice at all if not for the bond connecting their souls, II can feel some of Vessel's pain slipping away the more of his soul he bares in their music. II likes to think that putting it out in the world and unlocking it from his heart is therapeutic, in some way. He has to believe it, because II wants Vessel to heal, he wants him happy, and playing music is one of the only times a true smile lights up Vessel's face, as anguished as he is, dripping tears onto his jeans.
There is peace to be found in the quieter moments, the days passing by but not without hardship. Vessel struggles with his mental health, with the effects of their God not letting his human mind rest, but he has II even as Vessel keeps him at as much of a distance as his heart will allow.
#sleep token#sleep token vessel#sleep token fic#sleep token band#ii sleep token#sleep sleep sleep#fanfic#am i tagging this right#poly sleep token#polyvessels#poly!vessels#polyamory#ii x vessel
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OOC | Ronan & Ciara
WHERE TO START!! sooooo ronan has...a whole host of issues™ and that's problematic for everyone, but ciara gets a special seat to witness them bc he has ~feelings for her and this makes him behave esp wildly, and really tap into a lot of those issues so!! you're welcome!! ironically, godfrey probs comes out looking like the healthier option in this triangle and that is!! horrible!! in that godfrey's literal actual honest to goodness goal is to bring abt the apocalypse alksdjflkjdsfdkjlsf no but honestly ciara does noT know that hahaha
ANYWAYYY!! dont get me wrong!! ronan def does his best to be ~professional towards ciara, like they're literally in this to save astaira, not to get all sentimental abt e/o, but he can't help what he feels (believe me, if he ~could reach into his chest and rip out all of his feelings abt everything he ~would)!!!
anyway, it goes smth like this: ronan is (more or less) in control doing his thing etc, ciara does smth that makes him feel smth™, ronan at first reacts w some happiness bc she makes him feel happy!!, the fears™ begin bc now he's feeling!!!!!, ronan shuts down real fast!!!!!
its a whole horrible process bc mostly i think he tries to avoid feeling anything other than just...anger frankly and when he gets out of that place he doesn't really know how to protect himself from it all anymore, and he's someone who, by turns, uses avoidance and obsession to cope w what he's going through, if that makes sense? and so he's not sure how to navigate other things. however, i do think being consistently around her as helped a bit w this and he's dealing better than he did initially but he does sometimes just sort of...seem to turn a switch and yeah!! esp bc he refuses to deal w what he's experiencing its just a lot and you don't necessrily know what ur gonna get re: him
but yeah!! other times he's just fine!! you don't know what ur gonna get unfortunately and, frankly, neither does ~he
when he's in leader mode tho he's purposeful, driven, ruthless, and visionary w a v liberal sprinkling of his signature dark humor so yeah!! good luck lakjsdfkjdsf
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okay so i read the newest part really late last night so i read it again just now and i SGABGHFHVJDHGJFF i have many things to say
“I’ll be back later tonight… wait for me?” “Yeah,” you finally agree, voice wavering. “I’ll wait for you.”
hey now. that one kinda hurt.
“Fate, the word haunts him, curses him, he wants to spit in its face but every passing day reminds him that the gods must be laughing down at him.” IM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS W FATE IDGAF
THE FLASHBACKS. THATS ENOUGH. DONT DO THAT TO ME.
“i am NOT coming to ur funeral.” our friends are so real tho 😭😭😭
THE KISS !! THE KISS THE KISS THE KISS
“and god, you want him.” YES TF I DO ‼️‼️
“it’s unfair, you might die” CARINA WE TALKED ABOUT THIS
“The man lets out a sigh of what can only be utter suffering, lifting his head to look up to the ceiling as if asking a higher deity ‘why me?’” chuuya ily you don’t get paid enough to deal with dazais shit
THE SCENE W HIM COMING BACN TO THE EMPTY APARTMENT IM SCREAMING. THE FLASHBACKS. THE PURE PANIC. I JUST.
“the way you meet him (although you’re always the one to find him), the way you die (he always finds you though),” hey so what the fuck.
the sunsets im sobbing 😭
WALKING TO THE EDGE OF THE ROOF??? AND STAYING THERE???? that shit made me so nervous my heart was in my ass for the entirety of this scene
the pov change at the end omfg i wanted to cry
UGH anyways ty for listening to my ramblings ily and your writing have a great day/night!! 🫶
TUMBLR USER PE4RL-DIVER WELCOME BACKKKK IVE MISSED YOU
dazai and his legendary beef with hate will never not make me snort - every time someone comments or sends an ask about it, it makes me giggle because this man is TRULY ready to throw hands with gods at this point
NOOOO WE LOVE THE FLASHBACKS <33333 it's not the end of them either!!!
I WAS SOOOOO EXCITED TO WRITE THE KISS - i wanted i to be in chapter 2 soooo bad but i just couldn't figure out a way to cleanly weave it in so i had to push it off</3 BUT I THINK IT WAS WORTH IT
HELP MEEEEE I CAN'T HELP IT also it's partially because i'm dramatic and every time something slightly inconvenient happens im seeking death so </3
CHUUYA IS SOOOO FUNNY BC YOU KNOW HE'S SO SICK OF DAZAI'S BULLSHIT LOLLLL poor man questions his existence every day
the pov change was such a last minute decision BUT im rlly happy i went with it because it also gave me an idea for uu6 that i think im going to try to implement so we shall see how it goes
TYYYY FOR SENDING YOUR RAMBLINGS ILY HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY
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❣ Who is your favorite Kpop group?❣
My favourite and really only group is BTS. My sisters a big fan and introduced me to them. They got me on their personalities which I got to know through Run and then I learned some songs. I still watch and read more than I actually listen 😂
❣ Which member sparked your interest first?
Okay I will be 100% honest and it's Tae. He's sooooo pretty. That's what got me first. I could also say Namjoon, simply because he was the first person I recognised and knew by face and name.
❣ Who was your first bias?
This would surprise no one after the last question, but Tae was my first bias. Also simply because he is so godsdamned pretty. Like I can't even express in any way I know how how pretty this man is en how much I would not he able to look at him because of this too.
❣ Who is your current bias?
It's still Tae, although it is an on going battle between him & Yoongi.
❣ What makes them your bias?
Again, at first his looks, but his personality is awesome as well. He's funny and just so cool and stylish and basically everything I hope to be too. Except funny. I know I'm not funny. Only unintentionally, but I don't count that as I don't mean to be funny then 😂 at first I could see myself in him, and that's what attracted me. I was depressed as shit, and here was a person who I thought was like me, and others liked him! That meant that at least my personality is likeable to other people too. I don't think this anymore, and I also don't think our personalities are similar anymore, but I do still like his.
❣ Who is your bias wrecker?
I have hinted at this before. Yoongi is my absolute bias wrecker. Kind of. I also kind of don't really believe in biases and they kind of make me feel guilty for liking someone best. I have settled on Yoongi & Tae being my bias and everyone else as my bias wrecker. But for the sake of these questions, I will leave my personal believe out of it, especially since this is really how it went in the beginning.
Anyway! I first fell for Tae cause of his looks, but Yoongi was the first personality that attracted me. I liked his no bs life style as I am very direct and I hate bs or people not communicating and such. It's such a bother and he was not like that. He was also very pretty, of course, and also just very soft? I got the vibes that this man would treasure me and take care of me and not even necessarily in a romantic or sexual way. I would've been just as happy being his sibling or friend or whatever. I then went back to Tae for a while because of the recognition I got from his personality. Later I realised we weren't all that similar, but that I was to Yoongi. We've got differences, but I feel like our personalities would match very well and he'd make a great person in your life regardless of how.
❣ Which member(s) are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/bias wrecker?
Like every other one? Is that an answer? There's always something I see or read or hear or watch that makes me like them or that reminds me of something or that inspires me to do or maybe change in my life? Idk I honestly just like everyone.
Oh and also IU
And Sungha Jung. He's a guitarist and amazing.
❣ Have you ever been to one of their concerts?
I have not, and unfortunately due to health stuff and such I'm not sure I'll be able to go. I have seen I think all of their online concerts. If I ever went, it'd be with my sister and I would definitely risk getting a crash from the concert. I kind of decided concerts aren't worth the crashes anymore, but BTS might definitely be an exception. And maybe the rose, but idk.
❣ What are some of your favorite songs by the group?
Oooffff I love Anpanman and Mic Drop. I also like Spring Day but I never listen to it. Its bringing me back to all the videos of the students I saw, and I cannot deal. So out of self preservation I don't listen to it.
Another one I rarely skip is August D's version of Life goes on, and Louder than bombs. I can't really think of many else right now?
I also feel very very bad about this, but I love basically everything Tae puts out? Our interests and hobbies and such are very alike and he's just the epitome of the exact type of music I like.
💜💜💜
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I am also having Maya and Phoenix 7-year gap thoughts. Like Maya is trying to hold it together and put on a brave face for Pearl after all they went through in 3-5. But because of that Maya is not allowing herself to process her emotions! And then Phoenix gets disbarred and he's doing the same thing as Maya but for Trucy. And it's like! I feel like that they get so used to hiding their actual emotions because they're both going through it and they don't want to add to each other's misery. But they also want to talk to each other and have some sense of normalcy and it's just ahhh I wanna write a fic exploring this but idk I can actually finish it so here are some thoughts living rent free in my mind
EXACTLYYYYY phoenix gets disbarred sooooo soon after aa3 it's insane. like off the top of my head i think it's barely even two months later. maya and pearl are STILL GONNA be dealing with the aftermath of 3-5. and maya is so so good at putting on a brave face ESPECIALLY for pearl she's so so good at pretending like nothing's wrong to the point where in those slight cameos phoenix and maya and pearl got in aai1-2 they both seem perfectly happy. and if you want to throw plvsaa into canon (which you honestly can because it doesn't contradict any timeline in the aa universe) she seems perfectly fine there as well. and then phoenix gets disbarred! and starts trying to put on a brave face for trucy as best as he can! and of course maya is gonna run down from kurain the minute she hears about it of course she's going to try to be there for him even if she's barely processed her OWN emotions because she's self-sacrificing and willing to do anything for the people she loves. but phoenix is the same way!!! so it's like you have maya trying to be brave for pearl and phoenix trying to be brave for trucy and them having a self-recognition through the other moment and still having to be so so brave about it because morgan tried to use pearl to kill maya and zak just up and ditched trucy at the courthouse and phoenix is twenty-six and maya is nineteen and they are both too young and have too much baggage of their own to be the primary caretakers of fully grown children with equal amounts of baggage and they still are anyway. and they are so good at hiding things when they want to that it makes them so bad about having actual emotional conversations but maya still worries over phoenix and phoenix still worries over maya because they're family and mia asked them to look after each other and life doesn't stop just because everything goes topsy-turvy all of a sudden. so maya visits him whenever she can with pearl in tow and phoenix visits her whenever he can with trucy in tow and when she can't visit maya sends him those samurai dvds and makes him write reports on them so she can hear back from him because there's still the nagging fear that he'll vanish on her like misty did (because of the news dragging him through the mud) or dying on her like mia did (because of investigations that always seem to inevitably go wrong) and phoenix always opens his door when pearl comes to visit by herself because of course he does and he watches as pearl becomes something akin to a big sister to trucy (like he said in dual destinies) and that despite everything they've all been through they're still standing. every last one of them. and he writes the stupid samurai reports
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👫 for kuro & io
so we've already established that io and kuro are... a bit of a slow burn. but in a kind of weird and funny way. they have plenty of time. i seriously love the idea of them not really being aware they're an item until it's very very clear to everyone else. and even then they slowly move into it. and it's less of an oh!!! moment, and more an alright it's official- as if there hasn't been a huge change. by the time they've accepting it for what it is, kuro's got clothes there, a few dishes, and food. like he's half moved in by the time they're calling it a legitimate relationship.
kuro is the promise of a meal whenever io wants. and though they do begin with places that are very easy to hide-- he does eventually trust io enough to allow her to bite along his neck too. it definitely helps he already covers the majority of it up with a silk choker. but the scar there is a bit of a sore topic. one that io never brings up and kuro is very happy not to talk about.
now hear me out. kuro would happily, eagerly even, introduce io to his cats. they're not really his, but to her it's obvious he cares a great deal about the strays that live nearby. and it would be sooooo cute if he moved in with her, and was able to bring mimi along with. she's an old cat but astonishingly well behaved, and tends to just sleep all day.
the size difference between them is QUITE substantial. and they both know it- even if io can shapeshift and change how she looks. he is perfectly fine reaching things for her she can't normally, or providing other tall person sort of help. // much later into their relationship, kuro does tease her wordlessly about it- by not leaning over for things, or questioning if she's sure she does or doesn't need help with something. but it's all in good fun, even if he gets shit for it sometimes.
( bonus ) bringing this back too-- but blood for a good sleep? worth it. and if io ends up using him as a pillow while he naps? what of it? he's warm and comfortable. and sometimes, kuro might wake up with io sitting on him and just,,, let himself drift back in and out until he's ready to get up again.
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 / paramythas
#𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓; 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆. / about#i need to make them a tag actually#theyre incredibly cute#i have MORE but#i didn't want to make this too long#i will pester u about them immediately because damn
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