#i love her expressions so much esp the disgusted one | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

army-of-mai-lovers · 3 years

Text

in which I get progressively angrier at the various tropes of atla fandom misogyny

tbh I think it would serve all of us to have a larger conversation about the specific ways misogyny manifests in this fandom, because I’ve seen a lot of people who characterize themselves as feminists, many of whom are women themselves, discuss the female characters of atla/lok in misogynistic ways, and people don’t talk about it enough.

disclaimer before I start: I’m not a woman, I’m an afab nonbinary person who is semi-closeted and thus often read as a woman. I’m speaking to things that I’ve seen that have made me uncomfy, but if any women (esp women existing along other axes of oppression, e.g. trans women, women of color, disabled women, etc) want to add onto this post, please do!

“This female character is a total badass but I’m not even a little bit interested in exploring her as a human being.”

I’ve seen a lot of people say of various female characters in atla/lok, “I love her! She’s such a badass!” now, this statement on its own isn’t misogynistic, but it represents a pretty pervasive form of misogyny that I’ve seen leveled in large part toward the canon female love interests of one or both of the members of a popular gay ship (*cough* zukka *cough*) I’m going to use Suki as an example of this because I see it with her most often, but it can honestly be applied to nearly every female character in atla/lok. Basically, people will say that they stan Suki, but when it comes time to engage with her as an actual character, they refuse to do it. I’ve seen meta after meta about Zuko’s redemption arc, but I so rarely see people engage with Suki on any level beyond “look at this cool fight scene!” and yeah, I love a cool Suki fight scene as much as anybody else, but I’m also interested in meta and headcanons and fics about who she is as a person, when she isn’t an accessory to Sokka’s development or doing something cool. of course, the material for this kind of engagement with Suki is scant considering she doesn’t have a canon backstory (yet) (don’t let me down Faith Erin Hicks counting on you girl) but with the way I’ve seen people in this fandom expand upon canon to flesh out male characters, I know y’all have it in you to do more with Suki, and with all the female characters, than you currently do. frankly, the most engagement I’ve seen with Suki in mainstream fandom is justifying either zukki (which again, is characterizing her in relation to male characters, one of whom she barely interacts with in canon) or one of the Suki wlw pairings. which brings me to--

“I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”

now, I will admit, two of my favorite atla ships are yueki and mailee, and so I totally understand being interested in these characters’ dynamics, even if, as is the case with yueki, they’ve never interacted canonically. however, it becomes a problem for me when these ships are always in the background of a zukka fic. at some point, it becomes obvious that you like this ship because it gets either Zuko or Sokka’s female love interests out of the way, not because you actually think the characters would mesh well together. It’s bad form to dislike a female character because she gets in the way of your gay ship, so instead, you find another girl to pair her off with and call it a day. to be clear, I’m not saying that everybody who ships either mailee or yueki (or tysuki or maisuki or yumai or whatever other wlw rarepair involving Zuko or Sokka’s canon love interests) is nefariously trying to sideline a female character while acting publicly as if she’s is one of their faves--far from it--but it is noteworthy to me how difficult it is to find content that centers wlw ships, while it’s incredibly easy to find content that centers zukka in which mailee and/or yueki plays a background role.

also, notice how little traction wlw Katara ships gain in this fandom. when’s the last time you saw yuetara on your dash? there’s no reason for wlw Katara ships to gain traction in a fandom that is so focused on Zuko and Sokka getting together, bc she doesn’t present an immediate obstacle to that goal (at least, not an obstacle that can be overcome by pairing her up with a woman). if you are primarily interested in Zuko and Sokka’s relationship, and your queer readings of other female characters are motivated by a desire to get them out of the way for zukka, then Katara’s canon m/f relationship isn’t a threat to you, and thus, there’s no reason to read her as potentially queer. Or even, really, to think about her at all.

“Katara’s here but she’s not actually going to do anything, because deep down, I’m not interested in her as a person.”

the show has an enormous amount of textual evidence to support the claim that Sokka and Katara are integral parts of each other’s lives. so, she typically makes some kind of appearance in zukka content. sometimes, her presence in the story is as an actual character with layers and nuance, someone whom Sokka cares about and who cares about Sokka in return, but also has her own life and goals outside of her brother (or other male characters, for that matter.) sometimes, however, she’s just there because halfway through writing the author remembered that Sokka actually has a sister who’s a huge part of the show they’re writing fanfiction for, and then they proceed to show her having a meetcute with Aang or helping Sokka through an emotional problem, without expressing wants or desires outside of those characters. I’m honestly really surprised that I haven’t seen more people calling out the fact that so much of Katara’s personality in fanon revolves around her connections to men? she’s Aang’s girlfriend, she’s Sokka’s sister, she’s Zuko’s bestie. never mind that in canon she spends an enormous amount of time fighting against (anachronistic, Westernized) sexism to establish herself as a person in her own right, outside of these connections. and that in canon she has such interesting complex relationships with other female characters (e.g. Toph, Kanna, Hama, Korra if you want to write lok content) or that there are a plethora of characters with whom she could have interesting relationships with in fanon (Mai, Suki, Ty Lee, Yue, Smellerbee, and if you want to write lok content, Kya II, Lin, Asami, Senna, etc). to me, the lack of fandom material exploring Katara’s relationships with other women or with herself speak to a profound indifference to Katara as a character. I’m not saying you have to like Katara or include her in everything you write, but I am asking you to consider why you don’t find her interesting outside of her relationships with men.

“I hate Katara because she talks about her mother dying too often.”

this is something I’ve seen addressed by people far more qualified than I to address it, but I want to mention it here in part because when I asked people which fandom tropes they wanted me to talk about, this came up often, but also because I find it really disgusting that this is a thing that needs to be addressed at all. Y’all see a little girl who watched her mother be killed by the forces of an imperialist nation and say that she talks about it too much??? That is a formational, foundational event in a child’s life. Of course she’s going to talk about it. I’ve seen people say that she doesn’t talk about it that often, or that she only talks about it to connect with other victims of fn imperialism e.g. Jet and Haru, but frankly, she could speak about it every episode for no plot-significant reason whatsoever and I would still be angry to see people say she talks about it too much. And before you even bring up the Sokka comparison, people deal with grief in different ways. Sokka repressed a lot of his grief/channeled it into being the “man” of his village because he knew that they would come for Katara next if he gave them the opportunity. he probably would talk about his mother more if a) he didn’t feel massive guilt at not being able to remember what she looked like, and b) he was allowed to be a child processing the loss of his mother instead of having to become a tiny adult when Hakoda had to leave to help fight the fn. And this gets into an intersection with fandom racism, in that white fans (esp white American fans) are incapable of relating to the structural trauma that both Sokka and Katara experience and thus can’t see the ways in which structural trauma colors every single aspect of both of their characters, leading them to flatten nuance and to have some really bad takes. And you know what, speaking of bad fandom takes--

“Shitting on Mai because she gets in the way of my favorite Zuko ship is actually totally okay because she’s ~abusive~”

y’all WHAT.

ok listen, I get not liking maiko. I didn’t like it when I first got into fandom, and later I realized that while bryke cannot write romance to save their lives, fans who like maiko sure can, so I changed my tune. but if you still don’t like it, that’s fine. no skin off my back.

what IS skin off my back is taking instances in which Mai had justified anger toward Zuko, and turning it into “Mai abused Zuko.” do you not realize how ridiculous you sound? this is another thing where I get so angry about it that I don’t know how useful my analysis is actually going to be, but I’ll do my best. numerous people have noted how analysis of Mai and Zuko’s breakup in “The Beach” or Mai being justifiably angry with him at Boiling Rock or her asking for FUCKING FRUIT in “Nightmares and Daydreams” that says that all of these events were her trying to gain control over him is....ahhh...lacking in reading comprehension, but I’d like to go a step further and talk about why y’all are so intent on taking down a girl who doesn’t show emotion in normative ways. obviously, there’s a “Zuko can do no wrong” aspect to Mai criticism (which is super weird considering how his whole arc is about how he can do lots of wrong and he has to atone for the wrong that he’s done--but that’s a separate post.) But I also see slandering Mai for not expressing her emotions normatively and not putting up with Zuko’s shit and slandering Katara for “talking about her mother too often” as two sides of the same coin. In both cases, a female character expresses emotions that make you, the viewer, uncomfortable, and so instead of attempting to understand where those emotions may have come from and why they might be manifesting the way they are, y’all just throw the whole character away. this is another instance of people in the fandom being fundamentally disinterested in engaging with the female characters of atla in a real way, except instead of shallowly “stanning” Mai, y’all hate her. so we get to this point where female characters are flattened into one of two things: perfect queens who can do no wrong, or bitches. and that’s not who they are. that’s not who anyone is. but while we as a fandom are pretty good at understanding b1 Zuko’s actions as layered and multifaceted even though he’s essentially an asshole then, few are willing to lend the same grace to any female character, least of all Mai.

and what’s funny is sometimes this trope will intersect with “I conveniently ship this female character whose canon love interest is one of the members of my favorite non-canon ship with another female character! gay rights!”, so you’ll have someone actively calling Mai toxic/problematic/abusive, and at the same time ship her with Ty Lee? make it make sense! but then again, maybe that’s happening because y’all are fundamentally disinterested in Ty Lee as a character too.

“I love Ty Lee so much that I’m going to treat her like an infantilized hypersexual airhead!”

there are so many things happening in y’alls characterization of Ty Lee that I struggled to synthesize it into one quippy section header. on one hand, you have the hypersexualization, and on the other hand, you have the infantilization, which just makes the hypersexualization that much worse.

(of course, sexualizing or hypersexualizing ANY atla character is really not the move, considering that these are child characters in a children’s show, but then again, that’s a separate post.)

now, I understand how, from a very, very surface reading of the text, you could come to the conclusion that Ty Lee is an uncomplicated bimbo. if you grew up on Western media the way I did, you’ll know that Ty Lee has a lot of the character traits we associate with bimbos: the form-fitting pink crop top, the general conventional attractiveness, the ditzy dialogue. but if you think about it for more than three seconds, you’ll understand that Ty Lee has spent her whole life walking a tightrope, trying to please Azula and the rest of the royal family while also staying true to herself. Ty Lee and Azula’s relationship is a really complex and interesting topic that I don’t really have time to explore at the moment given how long this post is, but I’d argue that Ty Lee’s constant, vocal adulation is at least partially a product of learning to survive at court at an early age. Like Mai, she has been forced to regulate her emotions as a member of fn nobility, but unlike Mai, she also has six sisters who look exactly like her, so she has a motivation to be more peppy and more affectionate to stand out.

fandom does not do the work to understand Ty Lee. as is a theme with this post, fandom is actively disinterested in investigating female characters beyond a very surface level reading of them. Thus, fandom takes Ty Lee’s surface level qualities--her love of the color pink, her revealing standard outfit, and the fact that once she found a boy attractive and also once a lot of boys found her attractive--and they stretch this into “Ty Lee is basically Karen Smith from Mean Girls.” thus, Ty Lee is painted as a bimbo, or more specifically, as not smart, uncritically adoring of Azula (did y’all forget all the non-zukka bits of Boiling Rock?), and attractive to the point of hypersexualization. I saw somebody make a post that was like “I wish mailee was more popular but I’m also glad it isn’t because otherwise people would write it as Mai having to put up with her dumb gf” and honestly I have to agree!! this is one instance in which I’m glad that fandom doesn’t discuss one of my favorite characters that often because I hate the fanon interpretation of Ty Lee, I think it’s rooted in misogyny (particularly misogyny against East Asian women, which often takes the form of fetishizing them and viewing them only through a Western white male gaze)

(side note: here at army-of-mai-lovers, we stan bimbos. bimbos are fucking awesome. I personally don’t read Ty Lee as a bimbo, but if that’s you, that’s fucking awesome. keep doing what you’re doing, queen <3 or king or monarch, it’s 2021, anyone can be a bimbo, bitches <3)

“Toph can and will destroy everyone here with her bare hands because she’s a meathead who likes to murder people and that’s it!”

Toph is, and always has been, one of my favorite ATLA characters. My very first fic in fandom was about her, and she appears prominently in a lot of my other work as well. One thing that I am always struck by with Toph is how big a heart she has. She’s independent, yes, snarky, yes, but she cares about people--even the family that forced her to make herself smaller because they didn’t believe that their blind daughter could be powerful and strong. Her storyline is powerful and emotionally resonant, her bending is cool precisely because it’s based in a “wait and listen” approach instead of just smashing things indiscriminately, she’s great disabled rep, and overall one of the best characters in the show.

And in fandom, she gets flattened into “snarky murder child.”

So where does this come from? Well, as we all know, Toph was originally conceived of as a male character, and retained a lot of androgyny (or as the kids call it, Gender) when she was rewritten as a female character. There are a lot of cultural ideas about androgynous/butch women being violent, and people in fandom seem to connect that larger cultural narrative with some of Toph’s more violent moments in the show to create the meathead murder child trope, erasing her canon emotionality, softness, heart, and femininity in the process.

This is not to say that you shouldn’t write or characterize Toph as being violent or snarky at all ever, because yeah, Toph definitely did do Earth Rumbles a lot before joining the gaang, and yeah, Toph is definitely a sarcastic person who makes fun of her friends a lot. What I am saying is that people take these traits, sans the emotional logic, marry them to their conception of androgynous/butch women as violent/unemotional/uncaring, and thus create a caricature of Toph that is not at all up to snuff. When I see Toph as a side character in a fic (because yeah, Toph never gets to be a main character, because why would a fandom obsessed with one male character in particular ever make Toph a protagonist in her own right?) she’s making fun of people, killing people, pranking people, etc, etc. She’s never talking to people about her emotions, or palling around with her found family, or showing that she cares about her friends. Everything about her relationship with her parents, her disability, her relationship to Gender, and her love of her friends is shoved aside to focus on a version of Toph that is mean and uncaring because people have gotten it into their heads that androgynous/butch women are mean and uncaring.

again, we see a female character who does not emote normatively or in a way that makes you, the viewer, comfortable, and so you warp her character until she’s completely unrecognizable and flat. and for what?

Azula

no, I didn’t come up with a snappy name for this section, mainly because fanon interpretations of Azula and my own feelings toward the character are...complicated. I know there were some people who wanted me to write about Azula and the intersection of misogyny and ableism in fanon interpretations of her character, but I don’t think I can deliver on that because I personally am in a period of transition with how I see Azula. that is to say, while I still like her and believe that she can be redeemed, there is a lot of merit to disliking her. the whole point of this post is that the female characters of ATLA are complex people whom the fandom flattens into stereotypes that don’t hold up to scrutiny, or dislike for reasons that don’t make sense. Azula, however, is a different case. the rise of Azula defenders and Azula stans has led to this sentiment that Azula is a 14 y/o abuse victim who shouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. it seems to me that people are reacting to a long, horrible legacy of male ATLA fans armchair diagnosing Azula with various personality disorders (and suggesting that people with those personality disorders are inherently monstrous and unlovable which ahhhh....yikes) and then saying that those personality disorders make her unlovable, which is quite obviously bad. and hey, I get loving a character that everyone else hates and maybe getting so swept up in that love that you forget that your fave is complicated and has made some unsavory choices. it sucks that fanon takes these well-written, complex villains/antiheroes and turns them into monsters with no critical thought whatsoever. but the attitude among Azula stans that her redemption shouldn’t be hard, that her being a child excuses all of the bad things that she’s done, that she is owed redemption....all of that rubs me the wrong way. I might make another post about this in the future that discusses this in more depth, but as it stands now: while I understand that there is a legacy of misogynistic, ableist, unnuanced takes on Azula, the backlash to that does not take into account the people she hurt or the fact that in ATLA she does not make the choice to pursue redemption. and yes, Zuko had help in making that choice that Azula didn’t, and yes, Azula is a victim of abuse, but in a show about children who have gone through untold horrors and still work to better the lives of the people around them, that is not enough for me to uncritically stan her.

Conclusion

misogyny in this fandom runs rampant. while there are some tropes of fandom misogyny that are well-documented and have been debunked numerous times, there are other, subtler forms of misogyny that as far as I know have gone completely unchecked.

what I find so interesting about misogyny in atla fandom is that it’s clear that it’s perpetrated by people who are aware of fandom misogyny who are actively trying not to be misogynistic. when I first joined atla fandom last summer, memes about how zukka fandom was better than every other fandom because they didn’t hate the female characters who got in the way of their gay ship were extremely prevalent, and there was this sense that *this* fandom was going to model respectful, fun, feminist online fandom. not all of the topes I’ve outlined are exclusive to or even largely utilized in zukka fandom, but a lot of them are. I’ve been in and out of fandom since I was eleven years old, and most of the fandom spaces I’ve been in have been majority-female, and all of them have been incredibly misogynistic. and I always want to know why. why, in these communities created in large part by women, in large part for women, does misogyny run wild? what I realize now is that there’s never going to be a one-size fits all answer to that question. what’s true for 1D fandom on Wattpad in 2012 is absolutely not true for atla fandom on tumblr in 2021. the answers that I’ve cobbled together for previous fandoms don’t work here.

so, why is atla fandom like this? why did the dream of a feminist fandom almost entirely focused on the romantic relationship between two male characters fall apart? honestly, I think the notion that zukka fandom ever was this way was horrifically ignorant to begin with. from my very first moment in the fandom, I was seeing racism, widespread sexualization of minors, and yes, misogyny. these aspects of the fandom weren’t talked about as much as the crocverse or other, much more fun aspects. further, atla (specifically zukka) fandom misogyny often doesn’t look like the fandom misogyny we’ve become familiar with from like, Sherlock fandom or what have you. for the most part, people don’t actively hate Suki, they just “stan” without actually caring about her. they hate Mai because they believe in treating male victims of abuse equally. they’re not characterizing Toph poorly, they’re writing her as a “strong woman.” in short, people are misogynistic, and then invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of feminist theory to shield themselves from accusations of misogyny. it’s not unlike the way some people will invoke a shallow, incomplete interpretation of critical race theory to shield themselves from accusations of racism, or how they’ll talk about “freedom of speech” and “the suppression of women’s sexuality” to justify sexualizing minors. the performance of feminism and antiracism is what’s important, not the actual practice.

if you’ve made it this far, first off, hi, thanks so much for reading, I know this was a lot. second, I would seriously encourage you to be aware of these fandom tropes and to call them out when you see them. elevate the voices of fans who do the work of bringing the female characters of atla to life. invest in the wlw ships in this fandom. drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic (please, drop a kudos and a comment on a rangshi fic). read some yuetara. let’s all be honest about where we are now, and try to do better in the future. I believe in us.

818 notes · View notes

asuka--langley--soryu · 3 years

Note

If you haven't already, could you expand more on the "Asuka's a lesbian" theory? I've seen people say it and I think it seems reasonable, but I haven't found anyone actually explain their thought process.

calling it a theory makes it seem a little more serious than it is, i think. more or less its just that a lot of asuka’s characterization resonates with the experiences of gay women (which i am using broadly, tho i do specifically think asuka is a lesbian), especially in regards to alienation from womanhood/women and compulsive heterosexuality.

basically, she exhibits literally no genuine affection for men but feels like she has to imitate heterosexuality (ie kissing shinji), she chooses kaji as a man to fixate on bc he is inherently unavailable, rejects all of the boys at her school and leaves her date early bc she can’t simulate interest in them, and mentions a few times how the idea of being in a relationship or having sex with a man disgusts and disturbs her. the only person she is even remotely close to is hikari and, emotionally, really the only person who seems to have an understanding of her and vice versa is rei (who she has a kind of classic baby gay obsession-rivalry thing with, which i will talk about in my eventual asuka/rei post lol). these are all things that mirror the actual experiences of young wlw p closely, which is why hc-ing asuka as a lesbian is popular.

probably this kind of thing is more difficult for non-wlw to understand bc there isnt the sort of obvious gesturing to same sex attraction like w maya or kaworu or w/e. even though, for me, asuka is a much more accurate depiction of my experiences as a lesbian than maya. but if youre not a gay woman youre probably not well versed in their experiences and commonalities beyond like.....being attracted to girls--for a lot of reasons, obvi, one of which being that gay women arent often depicted in realistic ways so like.... how would you know what actions/emotions are signals or flags.

then again, of course, how many ‘true lives of real and nonsexy lesbians’ stories is any given cishet person (and, to a point, non-wlw people in general) really intaking--esp w the goal of gaining this understanding so that you can approach media with an actual metric for judging whether or not a character may be gay without them having to be like ‘i literally love women/men’ (and even then like... look at fucking kaworu). im not kind enough to really give people the benefit of the doubt, i guess, but either way the difficulty in this kind of thing is that it’s all based in reading actions and expressions that feel inherent to the gay experience as therefore representative of gayness. and also being willing to accept the presence of gayness as something not necessitating textual confirmation--which is, for way too many fucking people, where the problem lies.

its a bit of a dead horse but really the idea of like having to prove a sexuality for a character who has no stated sexuality is rooted in the presumption of heterosexuality as not only a neutral category but an inherent one. like, if we are to remove something from the default set there needs to be a given reason and evidence, a detailed claim of divergence, and what counts as acceptable is ever shifting and impossible. there isnt a like....homosexual scientific method or kinsey scale conditional proof system and, even if there was, people probably still wouldn’t believe it.

basically what im trying to say is that if a lot of lesbians say ‘i think this character is a lesbian’ it might be best to just believe them.

#asks #nge #evangelion #asuka langley soryu #neon genesis evangelion #god this got out of hand #but it was between being brief and snippy or extremely longwinded #and yknow where i went #kind of this is a thing that i have thought about forever and ever and so #i did kind of tangent and ramble #chozomechanic #q #this has been a text post #mine

149 notes · View notes

kim-chann · 4 years

Text

“Smile” [Karamatsu X Reader X Ichimatsu]

This is a soul mate AU where the last words of their soulmates are embarked to their wrists.

Keep in mind that the reader is already in a relationship with Ichimatsu!

Word count: 11,781 words (wow!)

This is heavy angst, so beware!

"Man, Darkmatsu really changed, huh?" Osomatsu spurs, taking a swig of his glass of beer.

The brother's hum in response, "Speaking of Ichimatsu-niisan, where is he anyway?" Todomatsu asks, prickling at his phone, his cheeks red, and his eyes half-lidded with a little light of soberness.

The brother's hum in response again, shrugging this time.

"Probably banging her-- OUCH!" Choromatsu smacked Osomatsu in the back of the head, a glare embarked on his drunk attire.

The brothers were having a night out, drinking till they pass out for no goddamn reason. They felt like getting drunk, so they did. Without a fucking reason.

"You should be glad that Ichimatsu actually has a girl, unlike you, Osomatsu-niisan." Choromatsu crossed his arms, his voice filled with venom.

Osomatsu glared at him, "Right back at you, Fappymatsu."

Choromatsu let out a 'tch,' and glares coldly at Osomatsu, daring him to say it one more time before he throws hands.

"Brothers, brothers, there is no need to fight. We can all get along and--"

"Shut up, Karamatsu!" Everyone says, glaring at him.

"Uh--what? I didn't even do anything..." He looks taken back. He slouches back in the booth where he sits next to Todomatsu and a sleeping Jyushimatsu. He shuffles in his seat, his drunk estate bringing him closer to sleep. The angry brawls from Choromatsu and Osomatsu don't even phase him anymore. Fuck, he has a headache. Karamatsu tries to shut his eyes to try and fight the pain in his head, but the loudness of his brothers snap him awake.

His head droops and nudges upwards again, his body trying to fight sleep. He groans, "Ugh, let's go home now, it's getting late." He says, stopping the angered atmosphere. Todomatsu hums in response, "Yeah, It's getting late." The brothers just sigh and nod, before they leave out crumbled cash and yen from their pockets to pay for their meal and beer. They stumble towards the exits, small groans escaping their lips from their tired and non-sober state.

It takes them a bit to arrive home, but they open the door and don't even bother to announce that they're home because it was in the middle of the night anyway. They kick off their shoes before going upstairs. They all retreat upstairs, slow-paced, and eased. As Karamatsu was about to head upstairs he saw a light that reflected in the hallway. The light was coming from the living room. Karamatsu's eyebrows narrow as he makes his way towards the light that peaks under the door. The door was slightly ajar and he felt his chest grow heavy with slight anxiety.

(Y/n) was in Ichimatsu's arms, sleeping soundly in a pile of blankets with ESP kitty next to them. Ichimatsu was holding onto her with a blush on his face. He looks peaceful, contented, and most of all: happy.

Karamatsu's smile widened when he sees them together. He was so happy for them. Even if it hurts him to see the girl that he loves with his brother. Well, that doesn't matter anyway. As long as they were happy, so was he.

Karamatsu carefully opens the door to the room and tiptoes his way around the room to shut the light. He fiddles with the switch before turning it off. Karamatsu blinks his way through the dark, trying to make his eyes adjust faster. He walks back to where he came from and smiles once again before closing the door. He makes his way up the stairs and quickly changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth. He brushes a hand through his hair and grunts in exhaustion. He was tired. In many ways.

He opens the door quietly to their bedroom. He grins slightly when he sees that everyone was asleep. He slips into his futon and closes his eyes.

He recalls when (Y/n) met the brothers after she was going to live with them for a while until her house was finished building. He remembers her quirky smile, he remembers when she made them food, he remembers when she helped every single one of them with their problem, he remembers the exact moment when he fell in love with her.

After months and months of their relationship developing, he felt like he had a chance. It was like a thread that he worked to pull in order to win a prize. The thread was in his grip, but it was yanked out of his hands.

Ichimatsu took her away from him. He fell in love with her and made his way for them to become a relationship. (Y/n) looked happy with him when they got together. The way her hair shined in the sun, the way her eyes glittered when she was excited, the way she fidgeted when she was nervous.

Her eyes.

Her hair.

Her quirks.

Her interests.

He loved it all. But it was not his anymore. It was Ichimatsu's.

...

He can't sleep.

"Check this out," Todomatsu says, showing his phone screen towards his brothers. "Soulmates?'" Choromatsu repeats. His curious demeanor spoiled into an 'are-you-serious' look. "Are you seriously going to believe that, Todomatsu?" He asks, entwining a chunk of rice between his chopsticks before putting it into his mouth.

Todomatsu retrieved his phone back and glanced back at his phone, "Well, yeah. It explains why we have random words on our wrists." He shrugs, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Oooh! Maybe Homura-chan and I are soulmates!!" Jyushimatsu says with his mouth full, which earns a scowl from Choromatsu.

Todomatsu playfully glares at them, "See? Jyushimatsu-niisan believes in soulmates as I do." He sticks out his tongue, which causes his brothers to shiver in disgust. "Whatever, just don't believe what the media says all the time," Choromatsu says, finishing his meal. (Y/n) prances around uncomfortably, deciding if she should say something or not. She opens her mouth, but shuts it tight, resisting her urge to speak. Ichimatsu notices and mutters an, "Are you okay?" to her. She nods her head and looks at Todomatsu. "What does the article say about soulmates?"

The brothers look at her. A blush on both Ichimatsu and (Y/n)'s cheeks. Todomatsu giggles before he looks at his phone once again, "Let's see..." He begins to read. "Well, it says that the words on your wrist tell you what your soulmate will say to you as their last words." He informs, "Damn, that sounds pretty depressing..." He adds, eyebrow arches as he continues to read. (Y/n) and Ichimatsu glance at each other with a blush. They begin to roll up their sleeves and they read what's on their wrists.

"Mine says, 'Always.'" Ichimatsu reads. "And mine says, 'Smile.'" (Y/n) reads hers.

They blink.

"And together, they say, 'Always Smile'," Osomatsu says with a grin on his face. Ichimatsu and (Y/n) blush before they giggle stupidly. The brothers smile at the cute connected message they have together. They were so cute together. The message, 'always smile' was beautiful and most of all: adorable.

"That's so cute," Todomatsu says with a blush on his face before he raises a brow at Choromatsu, "Well? What do you think, Fappymatsu?" Choromatsu glares at him, "Don't you ever call me--" He stops himself mid-sentence when he sees (Y/n)'s concerned expression. He didn't want to ruin the moment, "Well..." He sighs, "Sure, I guess."

"Yes!" Victors Todomatsu. "Mine says, 'Together forever.' Awww~ My soulmate loves me so much~" His coos, his cheeks dusted a deeper shade of red with anticipation and love. Osomatsu rolls up his sleeves before he grins, "Mine says 'Fuck you.' Damn, they must really want me to fuck them, huh? With my huge co--" Choromatsu smacks him in the head again.

"Oy! Stop doing that! That actually hurts!" He yells at Choromatsu, points his chopsticks at him. Choromatsu huffs. Osomatsu stammers with his words, "Why don't you tell us what your soulmates last words to us then, huh?! Maybe she'll say that your dick is so small that she fucking dies-"

"Mine says, 'I love you too.'" Choromatsu interrupts.

"What?!" Osomatsu exclaims, generally shocked by Choromatsu's soulmates' last words.

"Damn, Chorofappyski's girlfriend actually loves a guy like him? Damn, she must have really low standards." He shakes his head. Choromatsu glares at his eldest brother before he glances at the words on his wrist. His heart tugs with desperation and happiness. He's actually happy about the soulmate theory. He can't believe that a girl would like him.

"My soulmate says, 'Thank you.' What does that mean?" Jyushimatsu says, his sleeve covers his mouth in confusion. The brothers glanced at his wrist before shrugging, "Ooh, maybe your soulmate is thanking you for what you've done in your lives to be living together! Gosh, I'm surprised that you virgins have good last words from your soulmate. Maybe there is good in our name." Todomatsu tilts his head and giggles, which is meant to be used in a cutesy manner, but in the context of Todomatsu, it was an insult.

The brothers glared at him, "Says a virgin." Osomatsu spits under his breath.

Todomatsu turns his head to Karamatsu, "Hm, what about you, Karamatsu-niisan?" He asks, his head resting on his chin as he looks at Karamatsu in anticipation. Karamatsu remains silent. He was shaking. What did his soulmate say to him?

"Karamatsu?" Choromatsu calls again.

"I," Karamatsu licks his lips, his body shaking a bit, "I don't have words..."

"What?!" Everyone exclaims. They all gather around Karamatsu to see his wrist. There were no words or anything. There was a water drop. Karamatsu just stares at his wrist. He was confused. The words on people's wrists meant what they're soulmates were going to say to them before they pass, what did a goddamn water drop mean?

"Karamatsu-niisan, I don't see anything related to stuff like that. I don't know what that means, sorry..." Todomatsu says sympathetically. Karamatsu just hums, not daring to speak any words.

Waterdrop? Did it mean a setting? The ocean beach? Rain?

It was so confusing to him.

(Y/n) suddenly appeared next to him and gently grabbed his wrist. Karamatsu snapped out his thoughts as his eyebrows furrowed down towards her, a blush dusted on his cheeks. "That's so strange. I've never seen anything like it, that's so cool." (Y/n) says with amazement, her eyes glittering with praise. Karamatsu hums, "Well, my Karamatsu girl~ My soulmate awaits the essence of my arms of water in spite of the rain."

"Your soulmate dies in the rain, damn, tragic..." Osomatsu says, sighing. Karamatsu looks at him with wide eyes. That could be a possibility. Ichimatsu pulls (Y/n) closer to him and he wraps his arms around her waist, causing her to laugh. He was always so possessive when she talked to other men, especially Karamatsu. Ichimatsu knows that Karamatsu still likes her.

Karamatsu remains silent and thinks about the endless possibility.

Maybe his soulmate does die in a water-related setting...

"Okay, Ichimatsu-niisan, you're going to need to dress well for this date today," Todomatsu says, already setting up outfits. Ichimatsu fiddles with his fingers, his mouth curved into a nervous line. "Heh. Don't be nervous, brother. I'm sure that your Ichimatsu-girl will like anything you wear!" Karamatsu reassures him, his arm wraps around his neck and shoulder. Ichimatsu hisses and punches him in the face.

"Don't touch me you filthy pig!" He spits, glaring coldly at Karamatsu who fell, fortunately, on the couch with no injuries. Karamatsu hums and smirks, "As you wish, brother!" He quickly exits the room. The rest of the brothers roll their eyes, "Jeez, can he not be so cringy for one moment?" Osomatsu rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Exactly, I honestly can't really put up with him sometimes..." Choromatsu nods.

Jyushimatsu stares at the door before he chases after Karamatsu. Todomatsu glances at Jyushimatsu who exits the door to find his niisan.

He shrugs, "Well, let's begin!" He says, offering Ichimatsu clothes.

The first outfit was... okay? It was a purple jacket with a striped shirt underneath it with some jeans and Converse.

The second outfit was appropriate. It was their blue suit that all the brothers had, but there was a hole in the back. Ichimatsu says that one of his cats played with it. The brothers shook their heads, disappointed that their brother could leave his suit blazer with a cat.

The third outfit was perfect, it was a black trenchcoat with a dark-purple turtleneck, with black pants and grey dress shoes. The brothers smile at him, approving his outfit. "You look good for once, Nekomatsu!" Osomatsu says, his finger rubbing under his nose. "Yeah, you look good," Choromatsu says with his signature smile. Todomatsu pats Ichimatsu on the back, "Well, you're ready to go Niisan! Good luck!" Ichimatsu shakes a bit, nervous that (Y/n) might not like it. He just nods, not wanting to cause any more attention to be on him.

Ichimatsu leaves the house, after telling them not to follow them as they did with Jyushimatsu's date. They just nod, saying, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Karamatsu wipes his tears with Jyushimatsu at his aid, wiping his mouth and cheeks before he throws his tissue in the trash. "Why are you here, brother? Shouldn't you be upstairs helping out Ichimatsu?" Jyushimatsu just hums and shakes his head, "Well, I was worried for you, Karamatsu-niisan. When did this start?" Karamatsu's eyes went wide. Worried for him? He hasn't heard nor seen someone worried about his state in such a long time. His eyes soon became half-lidded once again. The last time someone was worried about him was when (Y/n) was there for him.

It was always her.

It was with her smile, her laughter, her attitude that always made him happy.

He should stop.

He should stop thinking about her. It will just cause him more damage, it feels like a sin to be thinking about her when she was already in a relationship with his brother. An unknown rage overcomes his being. He clenches his fists and bites on his bottom lip. Jyushimatsu notices and tilts his head, concerned and confused. "Niisan?"

No, she's happy with him. That's all that matters.

Karamatsu takes a deep breath before he looks at Jyushimatsu, smiling reassuringly at him, "I'm okay, don't worry about me. Please don't tell our brothers... especially (Y/n)."

Jyushimatsu nods, hesitantly.

Yes, (Y/n)'s happy with Ichimatsu.

And he shouldn't feel angry about that.

"You look amazing, Ichimatsu-kun..." (Y/n) stares at Ichimatsu, her eyes wide with awe. He blushes and looks away, "Ah, thank you... You look beautiful as well, (Y/n)-chan." He says, a crimson shade dusted on his cheeks. They intertwined their hands, his hands were clammy and sweaty; filled with nervousness and fear that he might not be able to make her happy. "Are you okay, Ichimatsu-kun?" (Y/n) asks her face a bit too close to his. His blush increases as he moves slightly away from her. "Yes, yes... please don't worry about me." He says, grinning a bit.

(Y/n) nods and grips tighter. It wasn't painful, it was filled with reassurance and calmness. That's what she always had; a calming charm. Ichimatsu loved that about her. She always made him so calm and reassured him that everything was going to be fine. He felt safer with her, happier even. It always brought him joy to finally know that he was never going to be alone. Ever.

"So, what do you have planned for us?" (Y/n) asks, hooking her arm around him and pulled him closer. He blushes and arches a brow in frustration in embarrassment. Despite that he loves (Y/n) to death, he can't help but hate that she can make him feel like putty by the simplest affection she gives him. He releases the grip around (Y/n) to pull something out of his pockets. He felt empty when she released his grip around him. He always wanted (Y/n) to be with him no matter what. He pulls out two tickets and shows it to her. "It's tickets to go to an aquarium, is that... okay?" He asks, nervous once again.

(Y/n)'s smile widened when she held the tickets in her hand, "Yes! I've always wanted to go to the aquarium!" She confesses, her cheeks glistening red with happiness. The weight came off of Ichimatsu's chest as he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. He chuckles at her reaction, "Well I've always heard you say that you've always wanted to go a few weeks ago, you dummy. So... I started saving up for us to go and have fun together." He shrugs.

He looks at (Y/n), before his smile drops. Tears were leaking out of her eyes as she stared at him with a smile on her face, "Gosh, you're so kind, Ichimatsu-kun," She pulls him into a hug. "You didn't have to do that for me..." She says, her words muffled from her face being buried into his turtleneck. Ichimatsu takes a moment to collect himself as he returns the hug; one arm around her waist and one around her head to pull her closer. He smiles, his cheeks flaring a deep red. He loved her so much, he would do anything for her.

After a few minutes, he pats her head, telling her that's enough and she apologizes. He acts boldly and pecks her lips quickly to tell her that it's fine, causing her to blush and giggle at the quick action. They both hold hands again, this time, Ichimatsu feels a familiar warm feeling in his chest. He felt love. He loved this feeling. He always thought that he would never feel such a thing, but here he was, loving a beautiful woman of his dreams.

He gave her occasional glances as she held a smile with a blush on her face. She looked happy, which caused Ichimatsu to have a shiver down his spine. He wanted to be with her together.

When they arrive at the aquarium, they both smile stupidly when they enter and begin their date. (Y/n) pulls Ichimatsu to where the dolphins are, and she smiles when one of the staff members begins to pour food down into its aquarium where they cry out in harmony and begin to feast. (Y/n) holds a smile on her face, her eyes glittering with a highlight from the blue from the glass, complimenting her being. Ichimatsu couldn't help but stare at her, his eyes a bit wide, admiring his lover. What a lucky guy he was.

(Y/n) glances back at Ichimatsu-- him jolting away as a blush grows on his face. (Y/n) giggled at his reaction before squeezing his hand a bit, reassuring him. Ichimatsu just hums and looks down at their intertwined hands, causing his stomach to do small flips.

When the dolphins ate to their fill, Ichimatsu gestures (Y/n) forwards, wanting to show her something. She ascends and walks alongside him. When they pass through a corridor with small TV's and tiny fishes in their little aquarium, Ichimatsu and (Y/n) converse in small talk, giggling to each other occasionally and kissing each other when it seems appropriate.

Ichimatsu shrugs his shoulder towards (Y/n), gaining her attention and tilts his heads upwards. A huge window of thick glass peers in front of her, covering at least half a hundred feet with a wider width that shows fishes, sharks, water bugs, etc. (Y/n)'s smile went wide as she stared, astonished, at the beautiful sea creatures that live in the huge tank of gallons of water. Many people stood by, admiring the huge glass of water that held many creatures. A bloom of jellyfish suddenly overtake (Y/n)'s view of the sea wildlife and greet her with the swaying of their little tentacles.

"Look," Ichimatsu points at one of the jellyfish, "That one is Hashi, he's one of the oldest jellyfish here..." He says, staring at its flow in the water. (Y/n) looks intrigued, "How do you know that one is Hashi?"

"I've been here with Jyushimatsu before, and the staff people said Hashi has purple leaf-shaped scars on their skin." He explains. "And that one is his mate, Jenko..."

(Y/n) nods her head, interested.

Ichimatsu brushes his thumb across her hand, "I want to live with you... like a jellyfish that sways... just like Hashi and Jenko." He turns his body to look at (Y/n), a smile on his face, his eyebrows raised, showing that he was serious. (Y/n)'s flushed cheeks gave Ichimatsu more courage and he cups her cheek with one hand, and brushes his thumb against her soft cheeks, causing her to smile even more.

It was comforting. Ichimatsu always brushed his hand against her cheek to show his affection towards her. It was quite rare for him to do it in public. But a few times in a few days? This was an extremely rare day.

"Can," Ichimatsu gulps, "C-Can I kiss you...?" He asks, his voice quite shaky. (Y/n) giggles and cups her hand over his hand on her cheek and smiles dreamily. "Of course."

Ichimatsu smiles sweetly before closing the gap between the two. Their lips pressing against each other with passion and love, his hand still cupping her cheek while the other slips through her soft (H/C) hair locks, gripping tightly, yet gently. The same warmth that they were both addicted to, shoot through their bodies, causing them to have goosebumps. Ichimatsu grows bold all of the sudden, and bites on (Y/n)'s bottom lip, asking her for entrance. She hums, parting her wet lips, and Ichimatsu complies, tilts his head to allow him to gain more access, and causes the kiss to grow more deep and rough. It was then a moan accidentally slips through (Y/n)'s mouth, causing them to both go red, realizing that they've gotten too much into it. When they part their lips and pant, a thin string of saliva still connecting their mouths. It breaks naturally, making them both wipe their mouths in embarrassment. When they turn to their side, stares of many families and partners raise a brow at them, causing Ichimatsu and (Y/n) to want to die from inevitable embarrassment.

The brothers stare at a flushed Ichimatsu as they eat their dinner. Their usual expressions of cockyness were now overwritten with proudness but hinted with loathness of jealousy. Karamatsu wasn't in the room, probably playing his guitar in the bridge by himself, trying to attract non-existent Karamatsu-girls, of which the brothers assumed anyways.

"How was it, Ichimatsu?" Choromatsu asks, generally interested in how his little brother's dating life was going. Ichimatsu just hums, his cheeks still red from remembering the embarrassment he had just gone through. "That's not even an answer..." Choromatsu says to himself, quiet enough for himself to hear.

"Did you guys bang?" Osomatsu blurts, wiggling his eyebrows. His little brothers all scowl at him. "What?" He says, not aware that he can't just ask a question like that at the dinner table. The brothers click their tongue and roll their eyes, and try to distract themselves with their meal.

It was quiet for a moment before Jyushimatsu finished his meal, and said his thanks. Usually, he'll just race out of the room and get ready to go to bed, but this time, he stayed. "Ichimatsu-niisan," he starts, his hands on his lap as his wide smile never leaves his face. "Hm?" Ichimatsu acknowledges, gesturing for him to continue.

"Usually when you come home from a date, you usually seem happier and refreshed, did something happen on your date?" Jyushimatsu questions, tilting his head. The brothers hum and stare at Ichimatsu, interested, stopping their rumbling chopstick on their plates. Ichimatsu stammers for a bit, not really open to his dates with (Y/n). He takes a moment to respond before quietly muttering out, "...(Y/n)-chan and I got kicked out of the museum because..." Ichimatsu stops talking, not wanting to think about the humiliating memory, and just interrupts himself by slurping on his soup.

"Huh?!" The brothers exclaim.

"Because of what?!" Todomatsu asks horror in his eyes.

"Don't tell me, did you guys actually have s*x in an aquarium?" Osomatsu asks, his cheeks dusted with a crimson color. The rest of his brothers glint their eyes in curiosity and disgust, but nonetheless, impressed.

Ichimatsu looks a bit taken back, shocked, but not surprised that Osomatsu would immediately go to that conclusion. "...huh? N-No--"

"Wow, Ichimacchan, I didn't know you had the guts to do that! I'm so proud of you!" Osomatsu teases, not letting him speak and appealing to his monstrosity of a situation.

"What was it like?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Did you guys get caught?"

As the brother bombards Ichimatsu with many inappropriate questions, the home phone rings. Jyushimatsu, who was not interested in pressuring his older brother, got up from the loud room and went to pick up the phone.

"Hello, hello! This is the Matsuno household! This is Jyushimatsu!" He introduces. He listens carefully, humming, and nodding along what the person behind the line was telling him.

Suddenly, Jyushimatsu's face loses its color, and his wide smile drops.

"Karamatsu-niisan...

is in the hospital...?"

Rushed footsteps echo throughout the hospital corridors, as panic overtakes the air.

'656'

What happened?

Did he get hurt?

Was he okay?

Questions overrun the minds of the brothers, including their parents who have a horrified and nervous look on their faces, wanting to see their second eldest son to calm their nerves.

'657'

It happened so quickly. When Jyushimatsu burst through the doors to their dining room, announcing that Karamatsu was in the hospital in the late evening, it explained why he wasn't at the dinner table in the first place. At first, they dissed the thought, thinking it was just another joke, but when Jyushimatsu explained that he fell ill and suddenly unconscious, that spiked worry in their guts.

'658'

As soon as they see Karamatsu's hospital room, they burst through the door, "Karamatsu-niisan!" Todomatsu exclaims when he sees his older brother in a hospital bed.

They surround his bed, worry planted on their faces, not fitting their characters at all.

"Woah, woah," The nurse says, trying to ease the family. "He's unconscious at the moment, please give him some rest." Matsuzo and Matsuyo sniff, trying their best not to break down right in front of their whole family, as they clench their fist. Matsuyo stumbles forward to Karamatsu first, placing a hand gently on his pale hands.

"What happened to my son...?" She asks, her voice trembling.

"Karamatsu-san was reported to be pale and ill when he was walking through the mists of Shibuya and suddenly fell unconscious. The people who brought him in said that his eyes were bloodred when they tried to make him conscious once again. I'm not sure what happened to him, but the doctor is certain that Karamatsu has been sick for a while now."

Jyushimatsu flinches upon hearing the explanation, as his tears roll down his cheeks in worry.

"What kind of sickness?" Matsuzo asks, going next to Matsuyo and stares troubled at Karamatsu's pale and frail face.

The nurse shakes her head, "We're not sure. We don't even know what kind of illness this is, but the thing we know is that it doesn't really spread easily like usually, illnesses do," the nurse states, looking at her clipboard.

Upon hearing those words, the Matsuno's grow stiff and numb, their worry perplexing their every action.

It was quiet for a few moments before the nurse excused herself to give them some time with their ill family member.

When the door closes, Jyushimatsu trembles. He can't handle the guilt that he was feeling right now. He was the first one to know about Karamatsu's illness when he retrieved out of the living room when Ichimatsu was dressing up for his date. He promised that he would keep quiet about his illness, but he couldn't handle keeping it to himself right now. He just can't handle the guilt he was feeling.

"This is all my fault..." Jyushimatsu mutters, his voice was quiet but audible. His family looked at him, their eyes wet with tears as their expressions were worried, yet startled at Jyushimatsu's confession. "Huh?"

"This is all my fault," Jyushimatsu says more boldly. The attention was on him now. "I knew about Karamatsu-niisan's illness, but I didn't say anything because he told me not to!" He interrupts himself with a sob, "I'm sorry! This is my fault!" Jyushimatsu gets on his hands and knees, trying to show that he was at fault here and accepting anything as a punishment.

It was silent for a moment but Jyushimatsu's tears echoed in the room.

"You," Osomatsu's voice was filled with venom. Jyushimatsu looks up, only to be met with wet, yet angry eyes. "You knew all about this?!" He spat, grabbing Jyushimatsu by the collar of his yellow hoodie and pulled him upwards.

Jyushimatsu's eyes were glistening with tears and fear. "You should've said something! If you said something-- anything, then Karamatsu wouldn't collapse in the middle of the fucking evening! He could've gotten immediate help, you useless piece of shit!" Osomatsu screams in Jyushimatsu's face, shaking him with anger. At this moment, Karamatsu would stop such madness of the eldest, but there was no one. There was no one to help Jyushimatsu, and his savior was in the hospital bed, dying before him.

It should've been Jyushimatsu who should've saved Karamatsu instead of agreeing to what he wanted: to remain quiet about his illness.

Maybe it was his fault after all...

Jyushimatsu's tears fell down his cheeks, sobbing, as he refused to look into his eldest brother's eyes.

"That's enough, Osomatsu..." Matsuyo says, her eyebrow arched, not wanting to deal with two things at once. Osomatsu doesn't listen for a moment before raising his fist at Jyushimatsu.

Jyushimatsu's eyes went wide, before shutting them and preparing for the hit.

Pain.

His ears rang as pain overcame his body.

It hurt.

His vision was blurry when he realized that he was on the floor, and tasted something metallic on his tongue. He spits it out, spitting out blood and a tooth.

All he hears is distant yelling and murmurs of anger as he sees a flash of red, getting dragged out of the room with a flash of orange and green.

Jyushimatsu sits up, feeling pain on the side of his head, wanting to know what was going on. It happened too fast, he almost forgot where he was at the moment.

"Hey, hey, hey," Ichimatsu's voice filled his ears, and a blob of purple settled before him. Jyushimatsu takes a moment when Ichimatsu props Jyushimatsu against the wall, and he blinks rapidly, trying to make his vision become better. He takes a moment to calm himself down before he sees clearly now. "Are you okay?" Ichimatsu asks, worry in his tone. Jyushimatsu hums.

"Dumbass-niisan is being escorted out of the hospital with mom and Choromatsu, we didn't expect him to hurt you at all..." Ichimatsu confesses.

The door opens as Todomatsu comes into view with an ice pack and water, "Here..." He gently places the icepack on the wound where Osomatsu hit and offers Jyushimatsu cold water. Jyushimatsu takes it and swallows gently. When he stops drinking, he thanks Todomatsu with a weak smile.

"Are you okay, Jyushimatsu?" Matsuzo asks, kneeling down towards his second youngest son. Jyushimatsu just nods, "I'm okay, I deserved it anyways," He confessed with a laugh. Todomatsu, Ichimatsu, and Matsuzo stare at him with remorse.

"No you don't Jyushimatsu-niisan, you don't deserve to be hit for keeping a promise to one of your oniisans." Todomatsu appeals, shaking his head.

"And besides, hitting you won't even resolve anything, it won't help Shittymatsu get better, so he had no reason to hit you," Ichimatsu adds on, patting Jyushimatsu's head to show that he was innocent. Jyushimatsu just smiles gently at their brother's reassurance.

When Karamatsu gets up, it'll be hell for Osomatsu. Or if not, then Ichimatsu and Todomatsu will be glad to fill in that role.

A few days later, (Y/n) was informed of such matters with Karamatsu and was horrified by the news. The Matusunos thought that she would just send in her graces and condolences for having such matters presented beforehand for their family, but no, she was scared, worried, and most of all: angry.

She was angry that Karamatsu didn't say anything beforehand, and didn't call out for help. (Y/n) always beckoned that Karamatsu should always tell her what's going on every time he was bothered because they were best friends.

He trusted her, and she trusted him.

What happened?

So when (Y/n) visited Karamatsu's room one day, she was the one to see him grow sicker and sicker each passing day.

(Y/n) rubbed her thumb against Karamatsu's, a habit that she picked up from Ichimatsu, as she stared with half-lidded eyes at his hand, never-ending thoughts combusting her mind. She was worried about him. Karamatsu trusted (Y/n) with every fiber of his being, what suddenly made him stop talking to her?

The only noise in the room was the occasional beeping of Karamatsu's heart monitor and the soft sounds of (Y/n)'s gentle breaths. She was growing a bit tired when she sat down on the stool, drawing shapes and people that designate a story on his pale hand-- growing a bit desperate that she wanted him to wake up as soon as possible.

A few minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Every time (Y/n) blinked, her eyes would sting from the tiredness that she grew upon herself. She yawned, her free hand covering her mouth. She looked at the clock in the upper-middle wall and noticed that she had stayed by his side for 4 hours straight, tracing small lines in his hand for hours beyond the end. (Y/n) was almost impressed with herself.

She gets up to leave and stretches a bit, groaning when her spine pops from her slouching position. She takes one look at Karamatsu's face before bidding her goodbyes. (Y/n) walks to the door and slides it gently open before she heard an unfamiliar noise behind her. She ignores it for a moment, thinking that it was the door making such noises.

Another pained groan.

That was not a door...

...That was Karamatsu.

Her heart stops before she whips her head around, staring intensely at Karamatsu, making sure that she wasn't hearing things.

When Karamatsu groans again and moves to lay on his side, (Y/n) immediately closes the door and fast-walks towards Karamatsu's side, her heart racing.

"Karamatsu? Hey, hey, Kara-chan?" She whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder, gently shoving him. He groans in response before he lays on his back once more, he grunts and yawns before he opens his eyes.

"Oh my god, Karamatsu!" (Y/n) breathes out, taking his hand into hers before squeezing gently. Tears fill her eyes as he looks at her, his eyebrows arched.

He opens his mouth to say something but his voice sounds dry and weak. "Wa-" he croaks, "Water..."

(Y/n) immediately fetches for a water bottle and claps it open and offers him to drink it. He tilts his head upwards, and he drinks it before coughing a bit. He drinks until he signals (Y/n) to stop before he rests down onto the bed once more, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

It was quiet for a moment as (Y/n) stares intensely into his eyes, wondering what he wants her to do.

"...(Y/n)-chan?" he spoke out, making eye contact with her red ones. She hums and nods, smiling happily at him. His dry lips curve into a smile and gentle smile. "What are you doing here my darling?... And where am I?" He asks softly, his breath shaky.

"You're in the hospital, Karamatsu, you've been here for 4 days." She informs him, brushing her hand through his hair, causing him to groan pleasantly at her touch. (Y/n) blushes and smiles a bit. "4 days?" he begins to sit up, bit (Y/n) hushes him, and gently pushes him down, telling him that he needs to rest up. He takes a moment to realize that he is unconscious for a long period of time. The thought alone quite worried him.

"What happened?" he asks.

(Y/n) shrugs a bit not knowing how to answer that because she doesn't know the answer herself. She sighs, raking gently on his scalp, "I don't know, Kara-chan..." She says, a bit saddened that she can't inform him of this matter.

They stay in that position for a few minutes of (Y/n) brushing her hands through his oily, yet soft hair as he sighs in content.

"Karamatsu," (Y/n) calls. Karamatsu hums in response. "I need to inform the nurse that you're awake now, okay?" She says, the gentle smile on which Karamatsu fell in love with, was plastered on her face. He stares into her eyes, a gentle smile on his face before nodding. Her calming charm always worked, and shamefully, he wished that he could stop the desperate feeling of love aching in his heart, knowing that he can't have her at all.

(Y/n) nods at him and makes her way across the room to leave him. Karamatsu watches (Y/n) every move as she does so... happy that she was the first one to see when fate decided to spare him this time. But guiltily as this sinner of a man, he can't help but fall in love with her.

Every little bit of her being.

"Karamatsu!" All his brothers yell, barging into his hospital room, startling him.

"Are you okay?" Todomatsu asks, gripping the bottom frame of his bed.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Choromatsu asks.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Osomatsu questions, but it sounded more of a demand.

"...You okay?" Ichimatsu mutters.

"I'm sorry, Karamatsu-niisan!" Jyushimatsu cries.

The brothers interrupt each other with questions, wanting to know what was going on with him. Karamatsu blinks, his eyes a bit wide, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. 'This is a strange surprise,' he thinks. 'Usually, they don't care this much for me.'

(Y/n) smiles in the corner of the room with Matsuyo and Matsuzo crying their eyes out with wide smiles on their faces, happy and relieved that their son was doing fine.

"Brothers, brothers," Karamatsu says, his "cool" façade coming back to him. "You came to check up on your best brother, huh? Oh, my Karamatsu boys~"

The mutters of concern from his brothers stop and spoil into a narrowed glare. "Yeah, I think I'm done here." They all say at the same time, already tired of his bullshit.

"Huh! W-Wait!" Karamatsu says, worried that they were actually going to leave so soon.

Matsuyo and Matuzo stop their sons from leaving the room and insist that they stay longer for their brother and find out answers from their never-ending questions. (Y/n) retrieved to Karamatsu's side, pulling out a stool before sitting down and insisting the brothers that they needed to talk.

The brothers sigh before they agree, wanting to know what was wrong with their shitty ass brother. They all sit down on the spare seats, while some of them stand up because there wasn't enough for all of them.

"When did this start?" Jyushimatsu re-asks, going first.

Karamatsu hums before he looks to the side, humming, "A few months..."

"'A few months'!" They all repeat, shocked.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"How did you get it?"

"Why did you keep it a secret?"

More questions echo in the room, making Karamatsu a bit ticked off. "Guys, can you shut up for once?" (Y/n) says, rolling her eyes.

The brothers shut up, muttering a small apology.

Karamatsu sighs, and smiles at his family, and (Y/n). "I know you guys have a lot of questions for my condition, and I'm sorry that I kept this from you all. I didn't want to worry you, brothers." He looks at his parents, "And I didn't want you to suffer from major hospital bills, heh." He tried to make a joke, but it was humorless. "I'm... not necessarily sure how I got this illness, but I knew coughing up blood was something serious, but I compelled it." The brothers open their mouth but Karamatsu interrupts him, "I know it was stupid and ignorant, but I did it anyway... I thought that it would just go away, but dear god, I was so wrong." He rolls his eyes, knowing that he was dumb as fuck. "I grew very fragile and weak, I noticed that I was growing paler and paler every month. But one day, I was just walking through Shibuya before I felt exhausted for some reason, and before I knew it, I'm in the hospital." He shrugs, grunting as he prepositions on the bed to be more comfortable.

It was quiet for a few moments before Choromatsu stands up and walks over to his older brother, "Honestly, you're so dumb, Karamatsu." He ruffled Karamatsu's hair. The brothers smile gently, understanding that what Karamatsu was going through was tough and scary. They join in with Choromatsu, teasing him a bit, but gently and harmlessly making fun of his idiocy.

(Y/n) backs away and smiles, and rubs her wrist, growing itchy.

"...(Y/n)-chan?" Ichimatsu's voice was quiet in her bedroom. "Are you visiting Karamatsu again?" He asks, gripping her wrist gently, preventing her to leave the bed. She turns back to him and nods. "But you already visited him two days ago..." (Y/n) hums and gently moves out of his grip. "I know, love." She says, yawning before she slips on her house slippers. "But I promised to visit him today." She says with a smile as she makes her way into the bathroom.

Ichimatsu watches (Y/n) walk to the bathroom, her nightgown complimenting her body, as he narrows his eyes in concern. Ever since Karamatsu fell ill in the hospital, she has been visiting him more often than Ichimatsu, and (Y/n) would go on dates. He tells himself that he can't get jealous because his brother is in the damn hospital and (Y/n) was his best friend. But why wasn't he really concerned about Karamatsu's health in the first place?

He sighs as he moves a bit closer to where (Y/n) slept, savoring her body warmth on the bed as he huddles himself back into the blankets. Ichimatsu loved spending the night with (Y/n) and having a good night's sleep with the woman that he loves, cherishing their cuddles and memories they made together. The king bed was always a perfect fit for their two bodies to become one just like every lover should cherish. Two bodies in a bed, wrapped in blankets as they cuddle in love.

But during this time, the side of her bed was always empty.

And he didn't like the absence.

Not one bit.

He hears the showerhead turn on as he inhales trying to go back to sleep as he closes his eyes, but his body says otherwise, telling him that he doesn't want to sleep anymore.

He pulls his hand out from the warm blankets and stares at his wrist,

'Always'

Ichimatsu narrows his brows as he glares at the message on his wrist and grunts, "Bullshit."

"Honey? What is this?" Karamatsu says, a blush on his face. He takes a sip of his apple juice before he snickers at (Y/n). "Why did you bring your guitar here, dove?" He asks, propping himself upwards so he wasn't lying down anymore.

(Y/n) giggles before she goes on her knees to unzip the guitar case before pulling out her guitar with her family crest of a rose surrounded with vines and stars.

It was an (L/N) crest.

It was a very powerful crest in their city. To have a surname of the name of the (L/N)'s would be God's blessing to a person. The (L/N)'s were always powerful in high class, owning a company that is powerful in their country was a bit intimidating to Karamatsu.

"I know that you're kinda bored here just watching TV and reading some manga your brothers brought you," She says, walking over to Karamatsu's side of the bed before sitting down in the guest chair, propping her guitar on her thigh. "So I wanted to sing a song for you, since you haven't really listened to music in a while, huh?" She says, chuckling a bit.

"That's very sweet of you my dear, but I don't think a sinful man deserves something this graceful." He says, shaking his head.

(Y/n) disses his appeal and begins to tune the strings with a grin on her face. "I know a lot of English songs, so I'll sing you one since you always say you like it when I speak English around you." She snorts, which causes Karamatsu to blush.

"Why are you doing all this, honey?" Karamatsu asks, his usual confident tone was lowered into a confused and cornered tone, causing (Y/n) to look up at him.

"Because you're one of my best friends in the world, I could never ask for a better friend." She says, winking at him.

Ahhh... 'friend'...

Karamatsu smiles through the burning pain in his heart, forcing out a giggle to show that he was contemptuous.

"This is called, 'I Won't Give Up', written by, Jason Mraz, a personal favorite of mine,"

She strums the strings before she begins to sing,

"When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

There's so much they hold,"

She sings, her soft, (E/C) eyes never leaving his, causing him to feel butterflies in his stomach. God, why was God punishing him, yet gifting him with such a thing?

"And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?"

Karamatsu hums along, his hands resting on his stomach underneath the thin sheets of the hospital bed, his eyes half-lidded, feeling an overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach of warmth.

"Well, I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up,"

(Y/n) strums the strings of her guitar gently, as she leans back into the chair, her eyes now focusing on where she was fingering on the frets.

"And when you're needing your space

To do some navigating

I'll be here patiently waiting

To see what you find,"

He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, but he didn't want to ruin this honorable moment of someone that he loves, singing something for him specifically. Karamatsu knew that this was her favorite song, as he takes in a breath, and sings along with the woman that he's grown to love in his short life;

"Cause even the stars, they burn

Some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

No, I won't give up,"

(Y/n) smiles, and giggles as she sings, indents in the corner of her eyes as she listens to Karamatsu speak poor-- but not bad English through his lips, as he sings along,

"I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily

I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make

Our differences, they do a lot to teach us how to use

The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake

And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend

For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn

We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not

And who I am,"

'Karamatsu was killing it!'-- is something (Y/n) would say if he weren't spitting out some English verses with him going crazy on the vibrato, causing (Y/n) to almost burst out laughing from how much he was getting into it.

"I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up,

Well, I won't give up on us

God knows I'm tough enough

We got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it"

Karamatsu patted his thigh, going on beat with the song as (Y/n), and Karamatsu both sang in harmony.

"I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up."

As the song ends, (Y/n) and Karamatsu smile at each other, eyes making contact as they both giggle with pride with each other.

"That was really good!" (Y/n) says, clapping her hands.

"It was your angelic voice that made it harmonic, my angel!" Karamatsu flirts, his index finger under his chin and his thumb against his cheeks, winking at (Y/n), causing her to snort.

An itch begins to grow on her wrist as she scratches it rather harshly, a bit confused why it felt so tingly all of a sudden that needed a good scratch.

At this very moment, Karamatsu's heart was racing in his chest, causing his heart monitor to keep a beep louder and faster.

"Ah, Karamatsu? Are you okay?" (Y/n) gets up from her seat, propping her guitar against the chair that she sat on and checked what may be causing it as Karmatsu watched-- nervously as his heart monitor increased.

"Ah-" He clears his throat, "Non, non, non, my honey, it's nothing, I apologize, my dear, ~"

He tries to calm himself by taking silent deep breathes, trying not to make (Y/n) notice that her affection towards him was causing his heart to go a bit berserk.

God, he was blessed with his crush singing to him while being punished by being exposed by a damn heart monitor. He took a moment to blame his health that was leading him to embarrassment.

The beeping of the heart monitor was slowly going down as Karamatsu sighed in relief. He continued to take quiet deep breaths to slow down his traitor-of-a-heart beating in his chest.

"Ah, It's going down, that's good." (Y/n) acknowledges, nodding in approval before she retrieved back to her chair, sitting down at the other one that wasn't preoccupied with her guitar. "Have you eaten much lately?" (Y/n) asks, pulling out her bag, her hand shuffling inside of it a bit.

"Just some crackers and chicken soup they gave me," Karamatsu answers, wondering what (Y/n) was doing. (Y/n) hums before pulling out some pears in a small plastic container. Karamatsu's eyes lit up by the sight of his favorite snack. "Here, I brought some pears since I know you and your brothers really love them." She opens the plastic container and picks out a toothpick and pricks the juicy fruit.

"Ahhh," She coos, her hand offering the pear to Karamatsu, expecting him to open his mouth. Karamatsu's face grows red as his body stiffens as he grows hot. "U-Uh...? (Y/n)-chan? I think I can feed myself-- I mean I'm not that sick, my darling..." He says, thinking that (Y/n) was only pampering him because he was really sick. But despite having an illness that hasn't been diagnosed yet, he feels uneasy-- yet flattered that he's being treated very well. He no longer wonders why Todomatsu loves being pampered because he can clearly see why.

"So what? I pampered Todomatsu, why can't I pamper you?" She says with a smirk, still awaiting him to open his mouth. Karamatsu gulps and pries his mouth open, she smiles as she feeds Karamatsu the pear. Karamatsu's eyes widened from how juicy it tasted. For some reason, it tasted better than how it usually tastes when he fills his share with his brothers. Or perhaps it was his long-lost cravings that he wished that tricked his taste buds that the pear tasted ten times better.

"Good?" (Y/n) asks, she asks, spearing another pear slice in the toothpick.

Being fed by the woman that he loved throughout his early twenties and so on till this day was doing no justice to his poor heart. Still, his feelings were conveyed in his chest, he can't help but convince himself that she was his girlfriend at the moment just like he's always wanted. But the thought of (Y/n) being his significant other always spoiled into a bitter infatuation, knowing that she was taken by his younger brother, Ichimatsu. He will never forget the empty feeling when Ichimatsu and (Y/n) came together and proposed that they were dating. And that empty feeling always lingered when he was in the presence of Ichimatsu or (Y/n), and he grew exhausted every time he had to block out his feelings to pretend that he was okay.

But at this very moment, he felt like it was just her, and just him.

He loved it.

Karamatsu licks his lips, "Delicious."

(Y/n) yawns, stepping onto her porch before she plunges her house key into her door, opening it before closing it. She walks through the pathway that leads to her minimalist house, smiling at the lights in the kitchen. She knew Ichimatsu was waiting for her and she was in debt to give him the attention that he deserves from her from spending her time with Karamatsu.

Fukumi, (Y/n)'s housekeeper opens the door and greets her with a smile. "Good evening, (L/N)-sama." She bows, allowing (Y/n) to come in. "Thank you, Fukumi-san," (Y/n) says, taking off her shoes and slipping on some house slippers that she always wore.

As she turns her head into the living room, she sees Ichimatsu on the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV above the fireplace as he ignores her presence, not bothering to greet her like he's always done. (Y/n) grows a heavy feeling in her stomach, knowing that something was bothering him. (Y/n) turns to Fukumi, her eyes uncertain and laced with worry, "Is he okay?" She asks, removing her coat.

"Quite, he's a bit... bothered at the moment." Fukumi answers, her grey eyes never leaving Ichimatsu's back head. (Y/n) nods and thanks her as she makes her way into the living room, a bit nervous since Ichimatsu doesn't show this emotion of tense motion.

"Ichimatsu? Love?" She calls, she sits at the ledge of the couch, her hands making its way into his hair. She knew that he loved the sensation of being pet. Especially in times like these, a small massage on the scalp is something that always made him melt into putty before her.

He slaps her hand away from her and rolls his shoulders, his half-lidded eyes never leaving the TV screen. That's when she knew something was up. She retrieves her hand by her side before she goes around the couch to sit down next to Ichimatsu, but with a small gap to give him his space. It was quiet for a moment, as they both stare at the TV screen of Hannibal Lector. It was always one of Ichimatsu's favorite shows. (Y/n) even bought him a costume because of his love concerning praise for a cannibalistic serial killer. Well, whatever made him happy, she was happy.

"You okay?" (Y/n) asks, quiet, but assertive. "Do you want to talk about it, love?"

Ichimatsu grumbles a bit under his breath, with no audible words coming out of his mouth.

"What was that?" She asks, going polite and gentle to not startle him.

"Tch," Ichimatsu sighs, "It's nothing important." He rolls his eyes.

"Ichimatsu, your welfare is something that is important, I care about you... Did something happen?" She asks once again, her head turning towards him instead of putting half her attention to the TV show. Ichimatsu lets out a deep sigh, "Yes, something happened." He says, a little loudly for something coming from him. "...My girlfriend is having more fun with my shitty brother than her actual boyfriend." He spits, his tone emphasizing on the titles.

(Y/n) was not expecting that at all. Her first instinct to react to such behavior was to tease him, but she felt a sense that this was more serious than other cases of jealousy.

(Y/n) takes a moment to think of a reply, wanting to reassure him that the negative thoughts that are swarming in his mind are not at all true. "Ichimatsu, your brother's in the hospital. He's my best friend, and I'm worried about his welfare."

Ichimatsu remains silent.

"I know that we haven't been on dates in a while ever since Karamatsu fell ill in the hospital, but I promise you that we will go on dates when this is all over, okay?" She reaches over to hold his hand and brush a thumb against his hand, but he yanks his hand away from her gentle grip.

"'When this is all over'? When will that be? When Shittymatsu gets better? When he dies? Huh?!" He grumbles under his breath.

(Y/n) narrows her eyes, "Ichimatsu, watch it..."

"That damn idiot has an unidentified illness! For all I know, he's already dying the moment we're having this useless conversation...!" He spits through his gritted teeth, his hands digging into his thigh in resentment.

"...Why are you jealous?--"

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!" He snaps, interrupting (Y/n).

She lets out a shaky breath, "Ichimatsu, this is your brother here. Your older brother who is in the hospital! Why are you getting so angry at something so sentimental?" She argues back, not having the patience to deal with this. This was completely childish.

Ichimatsu lets out a breathy sigh, "...When news got around about Shittymatsu being in the hospital, I was actually worried. But I didn't care enough to visit him in the hospital occasionally." He looks up and stares into (Y/n)'s (E/C) eyes, "But you did... And I really just wanted you to be with me until the end... I know having these feelings is the worst time, but I can't control them...!"

His eyes dart around (Y/n)'s face, trying to read what emotion she was feeling, "I know I'm shitty and unburnable trash that will have no will to live, but..." he gulps, his cheeks going a bit red, "...You changed that about me, (Y/n)-chan. You're my reason to live... and every time I hear that you're visiting Karamatsu for hours, I feel like my will to live has gone away. I... I miss you, (Y/n)-chan..." Ichimatsu confesses.

(Y/n)'s face goes gentle as she smiles slightly at him, showing that she appreciates his words, and testing if she was safe enough to approach him. Ichimatsu's red circles on his eyes show that he has been bottling up his emotions the entire time (Y/n) has been visiting her best friend in the hospital. She felt her heartache at the sight of Ichimatsu so fragile and heartbroken before her, she can't help but feel the urge to just hug him.

(Y/n) scoots herself closer to the kitty boy, before wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. Ichimatsu takes a moment to stop his eyes from watering as he slowly wraps his weak arms around her waist, his face burying into her neck, his nose resting on her shoulder as his lip and chin press against her collarbone as (Y/n) smiles against Ichimatsu's shoulder, before pulling away, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

She takes his wrist and turns it over so that the familiar words of fortune shine before them, "'Always'," (Y/n) reads, smiling, and taking her own wrist and showing Ichimatsu her's, "'Smile'."

"'Always Smile', Ichimatsu..." (Y/n) says, brushing her nose against his before taking their hands together, their fingers intertwining as Ichimatsu's smile comes back to his face, his cheeks red as he smiles at her before closing the gap, kissing her freely.

"Oh, hello, (Y/n)-chan, darling-- Ichimatsu?!" Karamatsu grows startled when he sees Ichimatsu enter the hospital room with (Y/n). His eyebrows narrowed, nervous, not knowing what to do when Ichimatsu was there. Sure, he knew that Ichimatsu didn't really like every fiber of his being, and seeing him now to visit him was quite heartwarming.

He sits upon his bed, making himself comfortable as he watches (Y/n)'s and Ichimatsu's movements as they walk around his bed and sit at the guest chairs. "Good afternoon, Kara-chan," (Y/n) greets, smiling at him. Guiltily, Karamatsu grows uncomfortable when Ichimatsu sits down next to (Y/n). He was used to seeing (Y/n) by herself while they have their own little fun as best friends do. It was a little more awkward, knowing that the feelings for (Y/n) had increased tremendously when she visited him every single day, and bringing her boyfriend into the room one day gave him a bad feeling.

Ichimatsu hums and nods, showing his own form of greeting. "Ichimatsu brought something for you," (Y/n) says, speaking up for her boyfriend, lightly nudging him. Ichimatsu blinks, and nods before he pulls something out of his pocket as he fishes out a card with cats on it saying, "Get well!"

Karamatsu takes the card, his cheeks flushing red with honor. It was a huge honor to gain such a thing, and most of all; a gift from someone who loathes you.

"Thank you, my Karamatsu boy!" Karamatsu manages, a wide smile on his face. "This is such a great honor to receive such a thing from you, Ichimatsu--"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, no problem." Ichimatsu interrupts, knowing that Karamatsu was going to bombard him with compliments and praise for getting him a simple get well card. What an idiot, am I right?

But despite all this, (Y/n) and Karamatsu fail to see the small look of pride and the tiny smile he wore on his apathetic face.

'Get well, Karamatsu-niisan.'

Karamatsu's family visited him during random time periods at random times of the day. It was odd at times, even while he wasn't surprised when Jyushimatsu came in to visit him randomly at four in the goddamn morning. With his family visiting schedules, he can't really conclude any pattern at all, but he really appreciated their visits, gifts, and stories they brought him. The one that was simple for him to remember was (Y/n). She visited him every day ever since he came into the hospital, spoiling him rotten while he should be the one doing that.

But as the passing day, which turned into weeks as the doctors and nurses performed tests on him, he was faced with a dilemma of something wasn't expected at all. So he remained quiet, keeping his mouth shut, even though his family told and begged him to tell them everything he knows about his health.

But... family does everything to protect each other right?

...right?

"Hi, Kara-chan," (Y/n) greets, coming into his room once again in the late evening. "Good evening, darling!" Karamatsu greets.

"Sorry that I'm a bit late, work has been kinda stressing me out a bit." She excuses herself, placing the bags down at the table that held the TV and brochures of the hospital. It was dark in the room, so she couldn't see much. But as her eyes soon adjust, she can see Karamatsu's figure formed under the wraps of the white-thin blankets.

"It's a bit dark, want me to turn on the light?" (Y/n) asks, making her way to flip the switch. "No, it's fine. The light is too bright anyways." (Y/n) hums making her way back to the guest chairs, grabbing something that was from the plastic bags, "I got you some Nikuman and some other snacks in the bags if you find yourself hungry."

She hands him a Nikuman that is prepackaged as he takes it and smiles, "Oh, thank you, my darling." He says, opening it and taking a little bite out of the snack. "Are you okay? You seem a bit more tired than usual." Karamatsu shakes his head, "There's nothing to worry about, you must be imagining things, honey!" He defends himself, taking another bite out of his treat.

"Are you sure, hold on," She reaches over to turn on the little light that stood next to his bed to see his face. Karamatsu gets stiff, "Wait, no, no--"

When (Y/n) switches off the lights, (Y/n)'s eyes grow wide, as she stares at Karamatsu, horror lurking on her face. "Karamatsu...you're so pale...!" She exclaims, walking over to feel his skin, seeing if he were cold. "You're not well, are you? What have the doctors been telling you?" She asks, sitting at the edge of the bed as she stares into his brown eyes that were growing a bit grey; dull.

It was heartbreaking to see him in such a condition.

Karamatsu shuts his mouth, his lip form into a small line as he avoids her gaze. He can't keep it in forever, now can he?

He takes a deep breath and stares into the IV needle in his forearm, "...The doctors told me that I won't get to live for a long time," He starts, feeling the air growing tense, "I... I only have a short amount of time left, honey. I don't know how long I'll stay alive..." His eyes begin to water as his voice grows weak. "I-I'm sorry..." he sobs, his heart monitor beeping faster the more he cries silently. (Y/n) scoots herself closer to him, "Shhh," She hushes, her arm hooking around his head as she pulls him towards her chest, as her head rests against his, as she sobs quietly to herself.

"We need to tell your family..." She whispers to him, as his cries stop as he turns to face her, his expression dulled with horror and anxiety, "No, you can't tell them...! I don't want them to worry." He argues, begging (Y/n) not to tell his family that he can die any minute. This is the exact same thing he has done with Jyushimatsu. Telling him to not tell anyone but doesn't resolve anything.

"I have to Kara-chan..." She says, meeting eye-to-eye with him, wanting him to feel the courage of truth that he needs in his life. "Would you rather have your family worried and spend your last living days together, or have them pissed at you when the time comes, knowing that you kept something from them again?" She questions. Karamatsu stiffens a small laugh and nods relentlessly, before he rests his forehead against her chest, "You're right..." he says, "Please tell my family..."

His parents and his brothers came to visit him more often as they cry and angrily tease him that if he dies, his brothers are going to kill him. (Y/n) visits after his family come by and hang out with him more often, their schedule no longer all over the place, but for once, simple and every day. Spending their days together to make it memorable and peaceful, wanting every moment to last forever.

The days pass on as Karamatsu grows paler and paler, his eyes growing more grey as his vision begins to fade little by little. But despite his life slowly slipping away, each and every day, his smile was always the same, his laugh was always happy, and his confidence never faded away.

Today marks the third week since the horrible news of Karamatsu's death announcement. I know it seems so bold for me to say this, but there is no sugar coating to remind you of what happened.

(Y/n) walks into the room, greeting him like usual as his breath grew rigid and hoarse, (Y/n) goes to his side immediately and pets his head, whispering the news of what happened at work today. It was a normal ritual for them to be doing this: (Y/n) brushing her hands through his hair as she tells him a story that brings him more joy than he could ever ask for.

As she ends the story, she sobs, her eyes watering as she stares at Karamatsu.

His hair was falling off his scalp as his eyes were fully grey; dull to comprehend that he was blind. His breathing was no longer quiet, as he breathed with a fight, trying to savor every moment of air as he could; alive.

His heart monitor beeps lower.

"(Y/n)-chan?" His whispers, his hands feeling up her arm-- to her shoulder-- and up to her cheek. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

Despite all this, he never stopped calling her names that she has grown to adapt to. The thought alone was placing more damage on her heart than she ever wanted it to hurt. His hand wipes the tears that escape under her eyes, as a small smile embarks on his face. (Y/n)'s sobs grow louder, not barring to see him in such a condition. She places her hand on top of his as she grips his cold hand desperately.

"...My angel," he spoke, his voice hoarse and breathless. "Please smile for me... for whenever I'm gone..." He stops to catch his breath, smiling up at her, "...Smile." Then the grip on (Y/n)'s hand became immobile and lifeless.

BEEP--!

Her eyes darted over to the heart monitor, it gave out a cry that has concluded a life; he was dead.

"No, no, no!" She screams, she looks over at Karamatsu, his smile still on his face as she screams at him to wake up. The nurses and doctors try to separate her and Karamatsu as she cries out in loss, wanting to be in his warmth again to sing him songs and tell him stories forever.

The nurses forbid her to enter the room as the doctors and nurse check Karamatsu's vitality and name the time of death. (Y/n) cries, tears falling down her cheeks as her knees go weak--sliding down the wall and to the floor. She covers her face, her knees to her chest as her arms cover her face, sobbing her heart out. As she removes her arms away from her face, her eyes dart over to her wrist, noticing that the words, "Smile" was gone.

Karamatsu was her soulmate.

END

#Osomatsu-san #osomatsu san #ichimatsu #ichimatsu x reader #ichimatsu matsuno #karamatsu #karamatsu x reader #choromatsu #jyushimatsu #todomatsu #angst

73 notes · View notes

musicallisto · 4 years

Text

♬ Pour Your Heart Out (Ashton Irwin)

( I PROMISED I had stopped writing about real people, because, in hindsight, it’s kind of weird to them (esp. bc 5sos used to say they feel sorta uncomfortable with fanfic, I don’t know what their stance is now), and I had done a pretty good job of it for a few years. but then this idea came and as much as I tried to repress it, it wouldn’t go away. I blame @softeninglooks and our walk down memory lane for prompting me to write this eventually. I think it’s supposed to give me some kind of closure with the rabid 5sos stan I was in 2015-2018, a parting gift to that teenage girl, a reconciliation of sorts, if you will. In a way, this is all a metaphor for my own state of mind regarding Ashton, whom I adored so very dearly during those years and that I think I’ll always like, deep down. Anyway, y’all don’t care about my Freudian portrait and with good reason, so like, enjoy. )

word count: 4.0k words

summary: In which you cross paths at the hotel bar with a handsome face you prayed to God you would never see again.

warnings: angst, alcohol, foul language, gets a bit steamy, implied sex (but no smut!). we’re gonna be antagonizing Ashton a lot in this one so if you can’t bear insulting him (which I wouldn’t lmfao) I guess don’t read?

soundtrack: ♬

FOR A PLACE so upscale and brimming with obscene luxury, New York City’s Fifth Avenue Hotel’s bourbon was horrendous.

Or maybe it was merely because you’d never been an avid drinker anyway. All alcohols merged in your throat in some bubbling fire, until you couldn’t distinguish anything inside you.

Which was exactly why you were leaning your elbows on the bar, mindlessly playing with a finger of whiskey in your glass, the hem of your slit dress hugging the cold feet of the bar stool, and a completely absent look in your tired eyes. Because you wanted to drown all that stirred inside of you - a chaos in your chest, an incomprehensible riot in your stomach. All because the universe and its sickening sense of humor had thrust in your mind memories you’d rather forget, like a knife to the chest.

All because your work had sent you to a gala in New York City on the exact same night he would be there as well, playing in Brooklyn to a crowd of adoring admirers.

Not that it mattered anyway. The day you left, you had accused him of only adoring himself. You were a revolted fury, and you had spat out every single word you could before your mind would go numb and your throat would constrict forever.

You regretted all of it. The fighting, the accusations, the way you had slammed the door when you had left. Something in your chest, however, growled that you still resented him for never reaching out to you.

And just like that you both had returned to your respective nights - he in the spotlight and the unconditional love, you in the business and the casual dates. It was a crash like no other, coming down from the high of being his goddess every day and every night, but you managed. You always did. You were strong, resilient. Stronger than a sudden pang of nostalgia and certainly stronger than the foolish hope that you’d somehow run into him in New York...

And even if you did, he wouldn’t recognize you, anyway. Your hair was different, your face more tired despite the golden hues that the ceiling lights cast on your cheeks. He was different, too - and in all likelihood you would see him on the arm of a young and beautiful starlet. Not that it would matter to you, or that it would break your heart to see someone in your spot, or that it was any of your business who he shared his nights and secrets and tears and laughs with - no, you were stronger than that. You downed your bourbon. Disgusting, and you were still too acutely aware of your emotional confusion for your liking.

A light breeze suddenly breathed on your neck, slightly lifting your dress around your ankles, and the rustling sound of a door opening barely made its way to your ears before you drowned it out. Maybe the alcohol was having an effect after a —

You turned your head around. Your beath hitched. Your vision was suddenly restricted to a single tunnel right in front of you - a tunnel one single silhouette occupied entirely, making his way to the reception with nonchalance, his hair tousled from the autumn wind of the city. Your eyes traveled to his face of their own accord. Before you could make out the outline of his eyes - Gosh, his eyes, you remembered them so vividly, the spark that inhabited them whenever he would play music to you -, you had frantically turned around.

“Bartender, please. Another,” you signaled.

Maybe it wasn’t the best choice to get another drink when you were already starting to hallucinate, but a sudden urge had overpowered you, almost to the point of nausea. The bartender’s empathetic shake of the head did nothing to alleviate the shrill alert that had suddenly overcome you.

“Sorry, miss. The bar is closing for the night.”

“Deliver it to my room then,” you pleaded, and you thought for a moment that your sincerely distraught expression would be enough to convince him. But he shook his head once again as he turned to wipe a plate, his voice dropping.

“I don’t mean to pry, miss, but I don’t think it would be good for you. It’s getting late. Maybe catch some sleep?”

Heavens, you wished nothing more than to go to your room and sleep it all off - to wake up to an empty room and an empty heart, devoid of fear, hurt, and passion, but you were certain now that you wouldn’t catch any sleep that night if you chased it for hours. Not when closing your eyes meant seeing him again, striding towards the reception with his natural ease and focused gaze, that same one he had when he walked up to you for the first time... Almost unvoluntarily, you had turned around once more on your stool. He was leaning on the reception desk and chatting with the receptionist - judging by the bright smile lighting up her tired features, he still had all of his charm and humor. You found yourself observing his back, his relaxed shoulders, then his neck, the ink where you used to leave bruises... his hazel eyes, familiar and stunned... his eyes? He had turned around, mindlessly playing with his keycard, and was now looking straight at you, a glimmer of astonishment pulsing through his pupils. A cold shiver washed over you. You returned to your drink. Empty. Dammit.

You hated them, all the steps that had let you to that moment. You hated your firm for sending you to a gala in New York of all places, on that night of all nights, booking you a ridiculously expensive room in that hotel of all hotels. You hated the bartender for not refilling your glass, and yourself for thinking that running into Ashton would make for a sweet reunion like in the movies. You hated him for walking up to you, footsteps all but timid, bathed in the assurance you knew so well - the one he had after playing a show, when he perspired confidence and enthusiasm, when the blood in his veins pounded against your skin in the dressing room backstage — Godammit, why couldn’t he be in a groupie’s bed, and why couldn’t you actually hate him...

And yet, when he spoke, his voice was soft and warm.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t have turned to face him, even if you had wanted. The voice that called out your name was that of a stranger. The last time you had heard it in his mouth, it was but a strangled cry, a crack that shrouded what little of his Australian accent remained, enough to remind you of home. There was no space for a home in his voice anymore; he could’ve blended with the locals perfectly if he had wanted.

Somehow, yet... you would have picked him in a crowd of billions. Something about his radiance.

“What are you doing here?”

“Same as you.”

“Oh, you’ve started a band?”

You rolled your eyes. You hated him. Always joking. Always fun. Always affable...

“Work.”

“Of course.”

He had mumbled, his gaze dropping to the empty drink in your hands and its pitiful foamy stains. You almost clicked your tongue in annoyance. He was bitter, unusually so; you much preferred the upfront and unwavering Ashton, the one who had told you without blinking that you might as well leave him, since you hated him so much.

Still, for a reason incomprehensible to you, he hoisted himself up on the barstool immediately next to yours. You could've sworn you heard the vibrations of his heart, though you couldn't tell if they were caused by his post-concert adrenaline, or your warm breath on his tense hand.

“What?”

“It was always work.”

“On your side too, Ashton.”

You almost shivered when pronouncing his name. The chant that used to paint your lips, like a prayer you would whimper in the crook of his neck.

“I know.”

You would've expected an apology, and obviously there was none. There never was any with Ashton, no matter how profoundly he wounded you. Why would he need to? He was so unapologetically himself, so radiant and imperial, like a solar king... and you but a common girl in his wake.

You refused to go over all the reasons that had caused your constant fighting and eventual breakup - you had thought them over time and time again, tossing and turning in a bed too cold. And if you let your mind wander astray, it would inevitably come back to his hand on the small of your back, the devilish grin you heard in his voice when he whispered in your ear, and the pulsing between your legs only he could vainquish... it was the last thing you wanted to think about when you were alone with him, with a luxury suite all to yourselves...

With a stir, you finally looked up to him. The fire in your throat, from all the glasses of whisky, instantly descended to your chest, your stomach, then lower, as your eyes trailed down his figure. He looked tired, but blissfully so; the same disheveled hair, tanned and slightly clammy skin you woke up to in the morning. His eyes - Gosh, his eyes - detailed you with this amused attentiveness he always had. And the top buttons of his shirt, untied, revealed the beginning of a strong torso you had cried and laughed and moaned into until the ungodly hours of the night... a few more tattoos, a face older, eyes and jaw sharper, and yet you recognized the stranger in front of you. You had been everywhere inside of him, seen everything; your body ached suddenly for his touch, his warmth, his burn.

Biting back an expletive and squeezing your legs together to calm the throbbing, you grabbed your glass and... Still empty. Dammit!

You hated him.

And yet the sound of him murmuring your name, soft and tender, like a sunray on your eyelids, was an abominable indicator that you didn't really.

“Come on, I'll walk you to your room.”

He extended an arm towards your shoulder; instinctively you bolted up from your stool. Your hand grabbed your handbag; his, hesitant, fell by his side.

“You're the last person I'd want with me right now.”

You're the last person I'd want with me in front of my room.

“Y/N, come on. You can't stay here and drink all your problems away.”

“Yeah, you'd know about that.”

Low. So abjectly low, even in your slightly ebriated state, even in the irascible torpor clouding your mind. Did you regret it, when his gaze darkened, when his lips - Gosh, his lips - twitched in a scowl?

“Fuck you, Y/N.”

“No, fuck you, Ashton.”

Your voice had raised as he stood up from his barstool; his somber figure, now entirely devoid of its post-concert enthusiasm, facing you like an angered god, reminded you all too well of all the nights spent arguing and making up. This time, however, you would utter your parting words. Or so you promised.

“Fuck you, Ashton, you want to know why? Because you're a self-absorbed asshole who doesn't care about anyone but himself. Everything in our relationship was about you. You, you, you, always you, like you were the goddamn center of the universe, and I swear to God, for me before anyone else, you fucking were. All my friends, all my family, everyone in the whole damn world only ever cared about Ashton Irwin. Everything was catered to Ashton Irwin's best interest. Everything calculated to please Ashton Irwin. Everything to prioritize Ashton Irwin's career, Ashton Irwin's comfort, Ashton Irwin's fun. And you know what? Fuck that.”

Your words weren't slurred, you hadn't drunk that much, even. Why, then, was the world suddenly spinning around you? Why were your tears brimming to the surface of your eyes? Why did you get the urge to fall in Ashton's strong arms and close your eyes forever in his embrace?

You opened your mouth to resume, breathless, but your train of thought derailed for a second when your eyes fell on his dark gaze, piercing through you with the intensity of a titan, and every inch of your skin combusted simultaneously. You swallowed, hard. Where were you? Right, fucking him. No! Absolutely not! Not fucking him! Only fuck him!

“All I wanted was you to see a person when you looked at me... not a freaking satellite. And the worst thing is I didn't even see myself when I looked in the mirror, didn't even hear myself in my thoughts. I was you, entirely you, I had you everywhere on me, in me.”

You inhaled deeply, but still, the tears were threatening to spill. To hide them and simulate assurance, you grabbed your handbag, raised your chin, puffed out your chest. A chest your dress did its best to showcase in the most sensual and classiest way, obviously.

“I would've liked our story to work out, truly.”

Oh, how I wish our story had worked out.

“But we're better off on our own, I guess.”

You were about to turn around when a hand grabbed your wrist, and your heart stopped beating for a second. Heavens, it was the first time in years you felt his skin on yours, and your nerves were seconds away from combustion.

When he lightly tugged on your arm to make you face him, however, you swore something in your core exploded.

“You say that as if you hadn't hurt me too,” he stated coldly.

His eyes, dark golden under the lights, eyeing you up and down, stopping imperceptibly longer than decent on your cleavage... his now harsh features, so alluringly enticing... an interdiction you would be willing to die just to taste.

“You'd never talk to me. I'd never know what was wrong, what you wanted, what you needed. I couldn't guess, Y/N, I can't read your mind! You never told me anything - don't you think I suffered from your silence? I loved you and I never knew if you loved me back or if you resented me!”

“You shut me up. You're so important, why would you bother with my input? Better keep my mouth shut, and save everyone the trouble.”

Without realizing, you had both started striding towards the elevator. Too focused on the argument, on your raising, raspy voices, on the brush of his shaky fingers against your skin, you didn't tell him to leave you alone.

Maybe you didn't want to.

“That's bullshit, Y/N, you know it. I always cared about you, more than anyone else.”

“Oh, really, now?”

“Yes, really! Remember how I'd fly all the way from L.A. on each of your birthdays if I wasn't there, no matter what we were doing the day after? Remember all the songs I wrote you and never sold, because they were gifts to you? Remember all the journalists I told off because they disrespected you? God, Y/N, if you weren't so focused on your self-loathing, you'd see that I sacrificed so much of my career, all for you.”

You pressed the button to call the elevator.

“You're one to talk about self-loathing! And is that supposed to make me feel better about feeling like a burden?”

“Stop twisting everything I say, you know very well you never were--”

“Well that's the thing with you, Ashton! I never know! I never know anything! I wasn't your girlfriend, I was just a you in a song!”

The doors opened. You both stepped in. You furiously hit the forty-ninth floor button. Twenty-five excruciatingly long seconds ahead of you.

“You created this idealized version of me in your head, and because I wasn't as perfect as you thought--”

“I wouldn't call being a self-obsessed prick not being perfect--”

“Will you let me talk? Jesus, I can't believe - this is ridiculous - I fucking hate you!”

“Good, because I fucking hate you too!”

And with that the screaming match died as suddenly as it had started, with two panting hearts suspended in the air, facing each other mere centimeters away.

All you could focus on was the boiling fury pulsing under your humid skin, Ashton's face, contorted with exasperation and yet still as handsome as ever, his breath fanning over your mouth... the unquenchable burn in the pit of your stomach and between your legs, the unshakable pull toward him.

Your mouth and throat, all your soul had spat out all the7y had. Now they desperately needed something to fill them back up.

You took a step forward; he did too. Your lips came together immediately after.

Instead of stepping back, he pressed you closer to his body, as if he had wanted to consume you whole, his embrace erratic and furious. With a swift motion, he had pinned you to the back wall; when he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, you swatted it away and deepened the raging kiss instead; you were two pyres desperately clinging onto each other, kissing and biting and grunting. Your head filled with a flurry of touches and colors, the warmth of his lips under yours and the throbbing of your blood desperate to mix with this, and your unforgettable hate for him and how fucking putty in your hands you were, and as you bit his lower lip and he let out the rawest of moans in your mouth and your entire body trembled, you were not sure if you wanted to devour him or be devoured.

“I still hate you--” he murmured against your parted lips, but you shut him up with your tongue.

When his hands tentatively settled on the small of your back, though, sliding under your dress, you let them in. Maybe you did hate him, but you needed him, you needed him filling every angle and inch of your body, every crack of your soul, every side of your senses, just as much as he needed you.

Like someting out of a frenzied dream, the elevator doors opened, and he broke the kiss abruptly, so much so that you barely bit back a whimper. The somber, sinful look he gave you for a split second, though, was enough to make you shiver in anticipation. You grabbed his arm, making sure not to look at him - he didn't deserve it just yet -, and strode towards your suite.

You had barely turned on the light and closed the door behind you when Ashton swooped down on you like a starved man. His lips found yours like they had so many times before, his grip so mean on your back, his other hand tugging at your hair lightly to keep you in place. Your mind pleaded you to push him away; instead your body grinded against his, and a hundred flares roared everywhere he kissed you and everywhere you wanted him. Would you regret this in the morning? Undoubtedly, but his lips were biting your neck and you were sighing and moaning and praying to God he wouldn't let you go, so you couldn't care less about the shame and guilt you'd feel waking up.

Your dizzy head didn't register he had unlaced your dress until it fell to the floor. Still savoring the ever familiar taste of his tongue, you made work of his shirt - your burning skin couldn't stand the agony of being far from his anymore -, but he pushed you back on the bed instead.

Almost bare on your bed, your hair fanned out like a halo around your disdainful face, your breath erratic, you were traversed by a shiver when Ashton took off his shirt and crawled over to you. Your breath hitched. You swallowed. His face hovered just above yours. He bit his lip, and something growled in your belly.

“Can I--”

“Do it,” you spat, your eyes stern steel.

If you let him see how desperately you needed him, nothing would cure the guilt and hatred you'd wake up to. Better to pretend you were still the mistress of your soul... not to give him the satisfaction of owning you whole.

Though as soon as his lips scraped your collarbone and his hands cupped your breasts, then lower, lower, tantalizingly lower, you forgot every good intention and every strong facade. All that remained were the delicious ache at the tip of his fingers, and his name, like a prayer to a demon.

New York City was always a hundred times more beautiful in the dead of the night. Faraway lights pulsed like a thousand stars in the ink sky, and a distant buzzing climbed up along the buildings, slithering into the windows. The light breeze from outside, skimming your bare skin, was enough to kept you awake. So were your thoughts, and the heavy, steady breathing in the bed behind you.

For this night, and for this night alone, you had belonged to him and to him alone, like you had countless nights before. For this night, and for this night alone, you had slipped back into his arms, his strong and comforting embrace, the familiar caress of his skin, and his voice lulling you to sleep.

And the worst of it all was that you had enjoyed it. Sincerely, not as an expiatory, but rather a delicacy.

You couldn't promise that this was a one-time thing. You couldn't promise you would turn your head and never look back. If you could've, you would've up and left in the night for him to wake up alone. It was a worthless pact. You already knew you would break it.

You already knew a part of you, so detestable and therefore humane, would always run back to him in a world of billions.

You exhaled heavily. The flow of air from the street was a welcome reminder that a fresh and beautiful world existed outside of this bedroom where you had abandoned everything.

You didn't hate him. Not really. But you ached whenever someone uttered his name in your presence.

He had been your first love. The hollow in your chest when you thought of him was simply the part of your heart you had given him, all those years ago.

You turned around. His chest rose and dipped peacefully in your bed. As always, he remained unbothered, unatteignable, and maybe it was for the best. You shook your head.

Then your eyes fell on the door instead. Nothing kept you in this city anymore. You could walk away with only your lingering smell and the trace of your nails in his back to keep him company. But running away would be weak, unhonorable, and most importantly an incomplete goodbye that would precipitate you back in his arms the next time you'd see him.

The skyline called out to you once again. The air was getting chillier by the minute, but you remained by the window, quiet. Up above the horizon, the blinking light of an airplane crossed, indolent as a swan, the navy blanket of the sky, and your chest filled with a bittersweet wistfulness.

You would wait for the sunrise.

You were certain, after all, that dawn would break.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #5sos x reader #mywriting

14 notes · View notes

nad-zeta · 4 years

Text

Match up! (◠‿◠✿)

hiya!! can i pls get a matchup for ikesen, if its ok? 💞

bi girl i prefer guys! ambiverted intp, gryffindor, n true neutral. i have an older twin sis n i love/hate her sm lmao!!

i have medium-length straight-ish black hair (w/ a side bang to the right) & dark brown eyes!! im 5'5-ish, fun fact: im a filipina!

sooo im a complex daydreamer!! i NEED attention/affirmation or ill feel unwanted/sad. emotional scorpio, im quite sensitive. anxiety, i overthink too much! quiet w/ people im not close w/. easily annoyed but guilty after ‘cause im soft-hearted. im like half funny/playful/kind & half deep/mature/awkward- hopeless romantic! i have a way w/ words, sorta poetic? i wanna be the best! sorta socially anxious, i have a fear of judgement. im not innocent but ppl think i am at first. i look fine but deep down im a big mess. rlly smart & knowledgable. vv passionate, big nerd actually! im like a kid w/ my twin but w/ others im more mature. im the type to do fun stuff and loosen up but would also just cuddle and have long convos. im vv good w/ technology! very imaginative, i come up with stories a lot- around others im very quiet because i literally have no idea what to say. actually a big history fanatic, hehe. i act confident but im not rlly, actually vv insecure and i regret a lot of things.

a habit of mine is that i tend to drift away and just… think? i also tend to care a lot abt my appearance! i get competative but there are also times when im just chill. i get vv embarrassed when i lose control tho n i regret it sm :(( i have loads of trouble asking for help even if i like to help others a lot! i like being organised but i tend to be… chaotic.

hsjsh- fun fact: there are times where im just,, super hyper n say the weirdest things? im good in school but,, im lazy yknow- i love math (surprisingly, i got a natural talent?), science (esp abt stars n space), history, and english (actually my 2nd languange but im very fluent) the most. bilingual but im also learnin french! wanna learn latin too tho but id break down- i have the fear of the unknown, failure, n loneliness! im scared of the future cause its beyond human ability to know,, the only guys ive rlly talked to r family members so my awkwardness goes 100x hsjsjs

oh, i rlly love affection, but i need a lot of space too, tho! girls gotta have privacy- games r a hUge part of my life, so is technology and the modern era! i actually like sports too- not very good at em tho :((

some likes: gaming, jokes (esp corny/stupid/puns), space, stars, weapons (esp swords/guns), philosophy, psychology, testing myself, affection, animals, doing exhilirating things, music, movies, books, writing, astrology, astronomy, learning new things, & mythology.

some dislikes: too much heat, school presentations, creepy dolls, being under pressure, dirty things, blind faith, & annoying people.

tysm! omg i hope this isnt too long- i think this is too long?? yIkes i hope that this is ok!! love ur writing btw! stay safe 💞

Hi hi love! thank you so much for the request! You sound like a wonderful person and omw it soooo cool that you have a twin! I actually think she sent in a request right after you did lol! Anyways sorry for making you wait sooooo long and i hope you enjoy it! @x-joie-x

So i match you with...................... Mitsuhide

The first time you meet this sneki boy, you were quiet and reserved. War council had just ended and you were named as a princess of the Oda forces. You were super socially awkward, and anxiety was slowly starting to creep in, as the curious warlords started to surround you. It wasn’t until Mitsuhide had pulled you away in a teasing manner to save you from the crowd that you finally started to calm down. He had noticed this new little mouse had been on edge since arriving. However, he didn’t suspect you of being an assassin or spy as, during the whole council, your hands shook, and you could barely speak up against Nobunaga’s demanding and commanding tones.

Mitsuhide had found you incredibly amusing from the first moment you walked in, you caught this foxes eye. He didn’t know if it was the innocence or naïve purity that just seemed to radiate from you, but for some reason when he was looking at you, he found that he simply couldn’t look away.

It took all of one day for all the warlords to officially drop all suspicions of you. You were just such a sweetheart how could they not instantly love you and feel the need to protect you. You had started helping a few of the maids that first morning after you were named princess. You didn’t want to be a freeloader, so you worked hard to earn your keep and soon, the maids were fighting over who would get to work with you cause all of then just loved and adored you so much.

You got annoyed with Hideyoshi when he first found you helping the maids, as he was 100% started micromanaging you. You lost you cool and raised your voice at him, TBH Hideyoshi didn’t think anything of it, but it wasn’t until you had pitched up at his manor an hour later to apologize for being so rude to him that he realized what a sweet and sensitive person you truly were. Of course from that moment onward you had gained yourself a big doting brother.

All the Oda forces agreed that you were too sweet and naïve for your own good, so Mitsuhude was assigned to give you princess lesson to prepare you for your new life as Oda princess. You were super excited when Mitsuhide had told you that he was going to teach you a variety topics such as economics, politics, history and self-defence. You even managed to impress the sneki boy, by getting all the questions correct on the first test he had handed you. You had found that first test incredibly easy as you were a bit of a history buff, and all the questions had been based on Nobunaga’s history. This low key shook the sliver kitsune a little bit, as this proved that not only were you pure and naive but you were also super smart. You kind of reminded him a little bit of Mitsunari, a cleaver professor with their head in the clouds.

Mitushide praised you for your ability to pick up on concepts quickly and work diligently as a student, “I dare say little one, you are the best student a teacher could ask for.” You spend masses amount of time with sneki boi, and through that time you realized just how sweet Mitsuhide truly was, although he was a massive tease leaving you a blushy mess almost every day after lessons with his teasing comments. And naturally, the more time Mitsuhide had spent with you, the more in love he fell. It was also noted by the fellow warlords that, Mitsuhide always wore a soft gentle expression when it came to you, and in your experience he had been a kind gentle patient teacher. SO naturally you found yourself more and more drawn to this mysterious man.

Through all the time spent with the kitsune, you found yourself opening up more and more. He was one of the few people that got to see your playful side. You now would make the puniest, corniest jokes he has ever heard, leaving this kitsune in a fit of laughter mid-way through a lecture. Not only that, but he loved loved loved your competitiveness side.

This side of you slowly started to surface after the 3rd or 4th self-defence lesson when you started challenging the kitsune to rematches whenever he would pin you down, ultimately beating you in your little makeshift sword fight. Boy oh boy, don’t even get me started on the shooting lessons, once you were able to fire the rifle, you were straight-up challenging this boy, the best marksmen around to a shoot-off. “Come on Mitsuhide, the first one to get 100 bulls-eyes in a row wins, and the loser has to buy tea.” Needless to say, you always lost and even though every day you would make that exact bet, Mitsuhide would always insist on sticking you for tea and lunch as reward for being such a good student.

He really enjoyed spending time with you and would absolutely insist on holding your hands whenever the two of you were on your way to the tea house together after your lessons. “I can’t have my clumsy little mouse tripping and falling now can I.” Every day without fail, he would say that to you as he wraps his big hand around your small one, while leading you to your favourite tea house.

The two of you would talk about everything and anything over tea, these topics ranged from you making stupid jokes, to talking about random topics such as philosophy and psychology. Either way, Mitsuhide loved to spend time with you. He would always listen to and hang on to every word you said, storing every word in his memory.

You were his precious little mouse, and he knew you were an extremely sensitive creature. If anyone dared say a single bad word to you or make you sad, they would face the wrath of this very protective kitsune. Like one time, one of the visiting daimyos had talked down to you for accidentally bumped into him. You were busy cleaning the windows when you accidentally lost your balance and bumped into him. He was so disgusted that a mere maid had touched him. He started yelling at you and insulting you, this escalated to such a point that he even had his hand raised ready to hit you for getting dirty window water on his shoes. That’s when sneki boi decided to intervene. Mitsuhide legit stood protectively in front of you with his rifle pointed at the man’s heart, with the full intention to shoot. “Golly me it appears like you are quite the troublesome little mouse, my dear.” He then turned his sharp gaze towards the daimyo “I do suggest you apologize to the Oda princess, lest you want to answer for your crimes directly to Nobunaga.” The man simply scoffed and walked away. Mitsuhide then turned to you and enveloped you in a warm hug while kissing the top of your head, “Are you alright, my dear little mouse?” Mitsuhide looked into your beautiful eyes and gently took your hands in his, “Come little one, I have something I wish to show you.”

The two of you walked hand in hand to Mitsuhide’s manor, Mitsuhide led you out into his garden, where you saw something so beautiful you could cry. The garden was filled with flowers and candles and in the centre was a table set up, with a feast laid out op top of it.

Mitsihide had told you that night that he was hopelessly in love with you. He was overjoyed when he had discovered that you like him, was also a hopeless romantic and that you had an incredibly poetic, romantic way with words. You handed him a letter in which you had expressed your feelings for him in the form of a beautifully written poem. You were actually intending to leave the poem on his desk as a way of confessing your feelings. This instantly melted sneki bois heart into a giant puddle and he couldn’t help but pull you in for a sweet kiss.

After diner Mitsuhide had led you deeper into the garden where a fluffy blankie was sprawled out on the grass, he guided you to sit down and the motioned for you to lookup. Above you, a thousand stares were shooting across the sky in a big meteor shower. Mitsuhide pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheeks as the two of you watched the sky. He always remembered every detail you had told him about yourself, so when you revealed that you loved the sky and the stars, he knew he had to incorporate this rare meteor shower in your date somehow.

This had sparked a new tradition between the two of you, to stargaze and spend the whole night in deep conversation. These nights were full of love and affection as Mitsuhide would pull you into his lap and just hold you there for hours and hours as the two of you talked and watched the sky

Of course sneki boi also had a bit of a spontaneous side, and would take you on exhilarating trips around Nobunaga’s territories. They were mostly missions but after you had nagged Nobunaga to give you permission to go along on the missions, you and Mitsuhide would finish the official work asap so that the two of you cuties had plenty of time to enjoy yourself in the new environment.

Mitsuhide loves everything about you from your slight messiness, to your love of learning new things. He also knows that his sweet little mouse sometimes needs some space and alone time and will be sure to give you as much alone time as you need to recharge. He knows that you will seek him out when you have had enough of your own company. He will always welcome you back with outstretched arms when you have had enough alone time, and shower you with endless amounts of affection.

Whenever you are feeling insecure or worrying about the future Mitsuhide is right there by your side, whispering words of affection and reassurance in your ears. He makes sure to remind you every day just how perfect you are and just how much he loves you.

Often you can be found in sneki boys lap with your head resting comfortably in the crook of his neck as he soothingly strokes your hair. Don’t be surprised if this sneaky kitsune drops a few kissed on your nose, cheeks or lips during these quiet and peaceful moments, just as a way to convey how much he loves and adores you.

Other potential matches……………..Masamune

I hope you enjoyed it dear and i hope you have the best day!

#ikesen matchup #matchups #match ups #matches #akechi mitsuhide #ikesen mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #mitsuhide ma #submission

17 notes · View notes

delicatetrashstranger · 4 years

Text

i need something to distract me from the wall i’ve hit with my beta-compliant slug of a garashir fic... and instead of just writing cute or sexy one-offs... i’ve decided i should probably just start planning an equally sluggish “non-canon” “getting together” ds9 fic where

garak targets ziyal for the appearance of closeness because he wants to exploit her as a way to fuck up the power dynamic between him and dukat...

all the while secretly harboring forever big big love for julian...

but then he like realizes ziyal is like totally innocent baby who’s never had a true friend and he feels bad for manipulating her (especially proving himself to be just another older cardassian man who’s pulling the strings on her life... like he’s disgusted to find himself comparing his motives and methods to dukat and coming up short in the comparison...)

garak also feels wretched about giving julian the impression that he’s way into this poor traumatized young girl...

such angst...

[and then there’s the changeling and the prison camp and tain dying and julian’s there and i dunno I DUNNO]

i think garak just hits a point of crisis (WHAT IS THE POINT OF CRISIS THO WHAT IS THE ACTUAL IMPETUS, I HAVE TO FIGURE IT OUT)

he needs to communicate to julian somehow or another how much he’s having the big love feelings and try in his fashion to come clean

but also THE TRUTH of his manipulation of ziyal among other things is actually WORSE than the impression he’s already given of being way way too creepily hot to trot on a helpless much too young woman...?

garak doesn’t want to crush and disappoint her now that he’s in effect manipulated her into falling for him (which was stupid easy but he’s very sure would not have otherwise happened without his manipulations?)

on the other hand, he doesn’t want everything up to this point to have been for nothing in terms of getting a leg up on dukat (esp. after dukat has faced the uniquely cardassian disgrace of a divorce just so he can try to make a worthwhile public life for ziyal on prime, making her all the more important to him and perhaps the key to his downfall if garak can just stay the course...)

but there again garak’s reducing the worth of someone he now considers KIN to an old grudge with stinky old dukat...

but the whole friggin obsidian order is like GONE and garak doesn’t think he has a lot of options for a return from exile at this point other than just fully ruining dukat’s life and public image to make the cardassians flip on the dominion before what garak feels is the inevitable occurs...

meanwhile garak’s struggling to deal with the fact that the CHANGELING julian had sussed all this crap out, called him out on his bs, and expressed deep disgust for him... and he’s worried he might expect a similar reaction from julian...

who garak’s also super worried for, because julian seems super duper traumatized by having been replaced for weeks...

FINALLY how do you reassure someone that they’re loved and cared for and uniquely appreciated for being uniquely them without you know DISCLOSING IT IS YOU WHO LOVES THEM and having to give up the whole damn jig in the process only for WHAT probably to be rejected but then he perversely deserves all of his machinations to blow up in his face...

(i dunno my lack of folks i don’t know why i friggin do this to myself.)

but like eventually cuddles

i’m sure it’s been done and probably better than i can do it but w/e i do what i WANT

#probably because i'm a slug #garashir

3 notes · View notes

sunsetsover · 5 years

Text

underrated parts from last night:

the entire ben and bobby scene :-( i love them sm :-(

the absolute BANTER of them being like ‘what do u fancy?’ ’do u have to ask?’ and ben leaning into callum’s space so he can kiss him and then being like ‘lets go shag in an empty coffin 🤪’ and callum’s disapproving tut like he’s disgusted but not really disgusted and ben looking at callum like he hung the sun in the sky :-(

jay and lola’s little faces when ben was like ‘this better be worth it’

the absolute devastating softness of ben’s voice when he says ‘pam’ :-(

callum’s face when he realized that that was pam. like it was immediately obvious that he not only felt very out of place, but he knew that however this situation went and whatever ben did or didn’t tell her, it was going to be difficult. that it was going to be hard for ben, and depending on what was said, it was going to be hard for pam too. like you could just tell from the look on his face when ben was hugging pam that he knew straight away that this was not going to be easy, which is very telling of how well knows ben - he understands how much paul still means to ben, how much pam and les mean to ben, and how much what happened still affects him. and callum probably knew it was going to be hard on him too, bc i think the possibility of ben lying abt who callum was/their relationship was probably one of the first things that came to mind.

ben’s face when callum introduced himself to pam (esp that first second where he suddenly remembers that oh yeah, callum’s here too) because you can tell that ben’s just had the exact same realization that callum had, except he’s the one who’s now got to decide what to say, what to tell pam, and how to navigate this incredibly delicate situation with the least amount of upset.

CALLUM LOOKING ALL HAPPY THINKING BEN HAD TOLD PAM ALL ABOUT HIM FOLLOWED BY THE DEVASTATION OF HIM REALIZING THAT IT HAD JUST BEEN JAY. THE SAD LITTLE LAUGH AND SHAKE OF HIS HEAD AS IF HE WAS INTERNALLY GOING ‘OF COURSE IT WAS JAY, OF COURSE BEN HASN’T TOLD HER ABOUT YOU, DON’T BE SO STUPID’ THAT KILLED ME MORE THAN ANYTHING

the fact that ben hesitated and looked at callum when pam asked how they knew each other. like he really considered telling her the truth and being honest but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it :-( and then his immediate change in body language when he tells her they’re just mates, like his excessive nodding and awkwardly clearing his throat and running away to the bar - he was so obviously uncomfortable. he KNEW saying that was going to upset callum and clearly immediately felt bad but what else could he do? what else could he have said? he didn’t feel like he could tell pam the truth. he was between a rock and a hard place.

jay and lola’s shared ‘ben’s being a dumbass again’ look

THE FACT THAT CALLUM STAYED INSTEAD OF LEAVING LIKE I REALIZE IT WAS PROBABLY JUST FOR PLOT SO THEY COULD ARGUE LATER IN THE EP BUT IN MY HEAD HE STAYED BECAUSE HE WANTED BEN TO KNOW IT WAS OK THAT HE LIED ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND THAT HE WASN’T MAD :-(

ben and pam just sitting there holding hands while they talked bitch i’m CRYING

pam including callum in the conversation!! like she must have realized he was sitting there awkward and quiet bc obviously everyone there had history but him and made sure to include him :-(

the way ben looked at callum when pam brought up whitney. like it was SO obvious he wanted to say something or do something; that he wanted to reach out and comfort callum, support him, reassure him. because like... he didn’t know whether callum was gonna come out to pam or not, and ben knows that it doesn’t matter that he was in a safe environment surrounded by loved ones, that’s still a difficult thing to do! and even if he didn’t (which he didn’t, probably more for ben’s sake than his own tbh which is a whole nother can of worms) ben knows that his break up with whitney is still a difficult and raw thing for callum to talk about. like all of that on top of this incredibly awkward situation they were in and the fact that that callum was probably already upset like??? ben’s face in that moment said SO much

lola being the one to tell pam callum and whit aren’t together anymore so callum didn’t have to.... i love one (1) friendship

callum’s absolute lack of offence abt pam bringing whitney up.... like he’s literally an angel

pam saying ‘i’m sure you’re gonna find somebody else’ as opposed to saying ‘i’m sure you’ll find another woman’ or smth 😔✊🏻

callum and ben sneaking looks at each other when pam said ‘there’s a lid for every pot :-( ben’s his lid :-(

(plus ben catching himself looking at callum and forcing himself to look away and schooling his expression back into something more neutral like please)

lola and jay absentmindedly linking hands bitch that GOT me

jay repeatedly glancing at ben and callum when they were at the bar together like!!! he was worried about them!!

pam just generally being a nan and being like U HAVE TO COME VISIT i love her can she stay forever :-(

lola’s quiet support of jay when pam was asking him abt terry’s funeral :-( i love them so mf much

not underrated but callum understanding why ben didn’t tell pam about them and instead being more upset about the fact that ben had ignored him the whole time like :-( literally the kindest most understanding angel

who is no longer afraid to tell ppl when he’s upset and hurt and why! i love that growth!

the absolute domesticity of them talking abt callum struggling w money and the fact that callum didn’t seem to be that embarrassed and was honest abt the situation he’s in and ben not judging him at all like ! but the whole thing was still really tense and dramatic anyway bc of what they were arguing abt before lmao

pam watching the whole thing in the background like.... she Knows

lola trying to distract pam bc ben and callum are just straight up having a domestic at the bar and not being subtle at ALL and pam is just. Watching. and poor lola has to at least TRY to cover their dumbasses (+ pam having none of it and being like hang on i’m trying earwig here kddslkflskf)

how sad ben’s little ‘don’t be like that’ was despite him obviously trying to seem annoyed lmao :-( and the fact that he immediately jumped up and didn’t want callum to leave like he really hadn’t wanted to upset callum and he didn’t want him thinking he didn’t care but poor ben just didn’t know what to do and who to please and how to behave :-(

how tired callum must have been to just be like ‘just forget it’ and not only leave, be leave without saying goodbye to anyone like :-(

BEN’S SAD LITTLE FACE AS CALLUM WALKED AWAY LIKE SCREENSHOTS DO NOT DO IT JUSTICE AND I DON’T THINK ANYONE’S GIFFED IT BUT IT’S FUCKING HEARTBREAKING

pam watching the entire interaction like 👀

ben’s annoyed sigh at the end like he’s just !! annoyed but he’s annoyed at himself for upsetting callum and fucking up this entire situation like he’s in such an awkward and difficult position and he probably feels like he can’t do right for doing wrong and no matter what he said or did someone was gonna get upset and like :-( just wanna hug him tbh

anyways i cannot wait for tonights ep

thank u for ur time 💖💖

#ballum #eastenders #jay x lola #lola x jay #idk what their tag is sorry :-(#anyways i love my family #i cant wait to see callum talk to mick and ben talk to pam like ! im excited #*

110 notes · View notes

lamentsof-bee · 4 years

Text

you can take scissors to pure canon IF YOU’RE NOT A COWARD

listen, this is how little women truly should have ended. and i’m not saying i ship it (but i am clearly saying i ship it).

y'all. i am 100% for the feminist notion of jo not needing anyone, esp not a man in her life and that she loves her books and her liberty more than anything. believe me, i am. but saorise ronan and timothy chala-whatevs played it too well. i got too invested. and no one can tell me jo wasn't destined to meet her teddy and find out that liberty and love do not need to be mutually exclusive.

this is shameless self indulgence, but you can read it if you want lmao

Summary: She shouldn't have left. She shouldn't have turned him down. But she did.

Jo March turned down her Teddy and then it all happened so quickly. She lost her love, her Beth and her drive all in one.

But what if she didn't? What if Laurie and Amy made a mistake and Jo hadn't thrown out her letter?

What if two souls truly are too entwined to ever find peace with anyone but each other?

The day of the funeral an eery silence is found in the March house. The house that was always filled with shouts, jubilee and cheer now stood quiet and sombre against a backdrop of white. The piano music that had once drifted along the rooms is quiet, not to be heard for a long, long time.

Jo stood at Beth’s grave. Her dear Beth, her loveliest sister, her other half. And the sorrow was incomprehensive. It crashed in waves so strong Jo did not feel as Mr Brooke pulled Meg away, sheltering her sister. She did not feel Marmee and Father too move to the side. All she could do was stare straight out, above the gravestone and beg that Beth should arise again.

‘Please,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Please!’

She called upon the Lord’s name, maybe she took it in vain, but she begged for her sister’s return. She begged any almighty above to grant her this one wish and in return she would give herself. Sacrifice was nothing to her, if her Beth could live on.

‘Please…’ her cries grew quieter and she sank to her knees. Tears stained her cheeks and for the second time in her life, Jo March asked herself if this is how broken she is.

Is she really so broken that she should ask an almighty presence, one she doesn’t even believe in mind you, to turn back the clock.

The answer is yes.

She would have given everything she had, everything she knew and everything she felt if it meant she could change this cold winter day.

She had asked Beth to fight, to be loud, but she didn’t feel much like fighting herself anymore.

It’s unclear how long she stands there. Waiting for something to change. Maybe waiting for God to take her too.

But eventually she finds her way back to the attic. Beth’s sheets of music lay gently in her hands, the dolls that once were hers already packed into a box, letters from Mr Laurence stacked neatly on the side.

They remind Jo of the letters she wrote to Teddy. The fact that they are still unanswered stings.

Her thoughts are tumultuous and suddenly, where there was only empty space and the loss of a love, suddenly there is a whirlwind of thought.

Marmee asked her if she loved Laurie and her answer… it had been true…

Her desire to be loved, to be cared for. It was all she ever wanted. To find someone who could look at her, truly look and her and see her, and not look away in disgust. She knew she was not beautiful like Meg, regal like Amy or kind like Beth. She knew she did not fit into the society she was accustomed to. And although she often made a mockery of the rigid structures of their Victorian life, she too longed to be seen. And heard … and loved.

She meant it. ‘Women have minds and souls,’ it had burst out of her ‘as well as hearts. Ambition and talent as well as beauty.’ Her sisters came to mind. ‘And I’m sick of being told that love is all a woman is fit for… But I’m…’ she faltered. Her hands trembled as well as her voice but Marmee looked at her with gentle understanding. As if coaxing a cub into the sunlight. ‘But I’m so lonely.’

In that moment, the façade Jo March had created shattered. The candle with dreams, desires and endless amounts of passion had burned out.

Marmee stared at her for a long moment, her hands wrung in her lap before she finally said ‘You can be lonely and still love him.’

‘I don’t think I know what love is.’

‘Of course you do.’ Ever present was her patience. ‘Look at you, you are suffering because of a love well lost. We all are.’

Losing her Beth, it should have rendered everything else unimportant but it had done the exact opposite. It had made Teddy’s absence feel stronger. As if her hand had been cut off and she knew not how to act without it. No, she knew not how to write without it.

Marmee left her with a soft shoulder squeeze and the look of a mother in mourning but she still pressed her lips together in a comforting smile that seemed to say You will find your way child.

The attic had always been Jo’s but with Beth’s absence, Jo hardly allowed herself to move from it. After a long night of staring at the ceiling behind a shimmer of tears, losing count of the days she had spent curled up, she finally took pen to paper.

My dear Teddy,

I miss you more than I can express.

I used to think the worst fate was to be a wife. I was young and stupid. Now I have changed. The worst fate is to live my life without you in it. I was wrong to turn you down and to run away to New York when in actuality I should have run away with you. To New York, to a pirate ship, to anywhere.

If all were lost in the world… and it truly does seem that way these days, I only hope I could be reunited with you one last time. To see the smile I have sorely missed and the heart I feel akin to.

I’m still not kind like Beth. But maybe you’ll still have me anyway.

Forever yours,

Jo March

She walked to the letterbox in the forest. It was a slow walk, one of trepidation. She had written the letter already, there was no going back now. So she placed it in the small wooden box, locked it with the golden key and turned. Surely, he would check it, wouldn’t he? He was still Teddy after all.

Amy’s return from Paris brought with it sick Aunt March and a feeling of doubt in the pit of Jo’s stomach. She wished she had missed her sister’s arrival. She could have dozed off in the attic, sleep always seemed to come more easily while the sun was up these days. She wasn’t though, she was in the kitchen with Marmee. Waxing over what to have for dinner as if any of it mattered anymore. All her food tasted like uncertainty.

Amy entered garbed in black. She opened the door with her arms slightly wide as if she expected something to happen. But the house was still. There was no music, no laughter. Tears filled her eyes as she made her way to the kitchen. She hugged Marmee tightly whispering apologies I should have been there, it was horrid of me. I should have known something was wrong. Marmee, who had amazingly found her inner strength again so soon after such a terrible loss, looked bravely at her now youngest daughter and shook her head. ‘It was not what she wanted.’

Jo watched her mother with revered curiosity. Perhaps Marmee’s steel strong disposition had been awakened again with her daughter’s cry. One day, Jo thought to herself, I shall be like Marmee. Patient, yet unyielding to the world.

Amy sat at their tiny kitchen table, her black gown entirely too big and fancy for their dreary common house. Her lips began to move and she told them of Rome and then Paris. The stories seemed to spill out of her, unstoppable. Aunt March had fallen sick several weeks ago and her recovery, although promising at the time, had been halted by her immediate desire to return to home soil. The doctors had warned her against traveling so soon while the sickness was still taking its course but ever stubborn, Aunt March refused. Now being nursed by her staff in her manor, Aunt March is bedridden and traveling had taken a toll on even her angry spirit.

As Amy mentioned Laurie’s name, the breath hitched in Jo’s chest. She willed herself to breathe normally and slowly started counting her inhalations. She felt she was in something of a trance. Amy waxed on about fights with Laurie, about not wanting to be second best to Jo (at which Jo could only look into an empty corner) but still loving him because it’s Laurie.

Jo’s heart rate quickened when Amy spoke of a kiss and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. How was anyone ever meant to navigate this foggy world of feelings if others were constantly adding to the fog with their words? She smiled humourlessly to herself and thought Such is usually the occupation of a writer. The conversation continues and Jo seems to be the only one missing the subtext and sadness in her sister’s eyes.

‘I thought perhaps someday I would be able to call him My Lord – .’

Amy’s sentence fades out. There is a beat, no one says anything. There is a pang, one that strikes Jo directly in her heart.

Amy looks at Jo with worry, knowing her wish will never come true. Without being fully aware of what she is doing, Jo rises, wiping her hands on her dress. ‘I should call on Aunt March.’ She wills herself to make a joke to cut through the tension. She almost does. Someone has got to make sure she hasn’t beat the bush. It’s on the tip of her tongue. Yet, she holds it. It’s still too soon. Too soon after Beth’s passing. Death doesn’t seem like a joke to her anymore. It seems like a thief. And thieves are not to be joked about.

Seeing Aunt March in bed, her duvet perfectly folded and a duck feather pillow behind her head, leaves Jo with a feeling of melancholy. As if she suddenly realized that even the strongest, most resilient women must give way to the tides of time.

‘I have come to read to you, Aunt March.’ Jo says quietly from the door, a faint smile on her lips.

Aunt March only gives a short nod in return after which her eyes wander back to the big window looking out onto the grounds. Jo reads to Aunt March for a while but it becomes clear that her aunt is not listening. Her glassy eyes stare out at the garden with unmistakeable sadness.

‘Your Amy did a fine job in Europe,’ she mutters in a croaking voice.

Jo halts her reading and looks up, suddenly feeling chastised. ‘I knew she would.’

She looks down to continue her passage but Aunt March interrupts her.

‘She was made for high society.’ The old lady’s eyes stop on Jo judgementally. ‘Unlike some I know.’

‘I do not wish to become decoration to a place already filled with frills and flowers.’ Jo answered simply.

‘No, you do not.’ An honest statement. ‘Just like your father.’ Another. ‘Penniless and useless.’ Aunt March huffs, her eyes linger on the door. As if she were hoping someone else would walk through it. As if she were craving more company.

‘I do wish to read to you, Aunt March.’ Jo says, only then understanding the old woman’s loneliness.

‘It would have been better if that ghastly Laurence boy hadn’t given her false hope.’ The pain in Jo’s chest awakens again. Not knowing where to look Jo faces her passage again, waiting for her aunt to continue speaking. She does not.

Quietly, instead, Jo continues to read until Aunt March falls asleep, her breathing shallow but constant.

Darkness was already falling when she left the big manor. The rooms felt hollow and empty. Aunt March’s rigor and strength seemed to have been leeched from the walls. Tonight the skies are clear. Jo trudges through the town with familiarity. Here is the town she grew up in, a place she knew she wanted to escape but always felt too attached to withdraw completely. After all, here was her family. What remained of it. Yet now, with Beth gone and Teddy unresponsive, her little home felt more like a prison. A gilded cage full of forget-me-nots and memories too precious to forget but too precarious to dream about.

Out of habit she passes the Laurence estate looking to her right, swallowing the hard knot in her throat. She walks through the woods between their homes and only stops briefly to mourn the words she poured into her letter, the honesty and vulnerability she would have to reclaim. She couldn’t let him find the letter. Not if he intended to make a wife out of Amy.

Jo’s steely determination had her walking towards the little post box. She had always put her sisters’ lives before her own. She would not stop now simply because of her infatuation for a boy. Even if that boy was Teddy.

But there was a figure already standing by the tree. Tall and lanky, Jo would recognize him even in the darkest of nights. She hadn’t the courage to speak up, so she simply stopped in her tracks and watched. If all that she had created in her head, the life they could live and happiness they could have, was to fall apart, then she should be allowed at least one moment of heart fluttering before it happens. He sinks to the ground, his hand covering his mouth. She is unsure how he would even be able to read in this dusk but she is certain he has managed.

His shoulder falls against the tree trunk heavily and for a moment she thinks his eyes are filled with tears.

She dares not to speak. She thinks she may not be able to find words anyway. Instead, she hangs back and watches as he rubs his face and gives a sigh as if he were the loneliest man in the world.

They hover in silence for what feels like eternity. Jo isn’t even sure that he knows she is there and then, a sudden panic rushes over her. She can no longer watch him. A short but loud gasp for air has him looking in her direction and clambering to his feet quickly but Jo is already on her way. Her brain feels fuzzy as if her senses had reached out too far and tried to take in too much. She begins to run, though where she is not quite sure.

Unaware that the person she tried to leave behind is following her, she stops short when she is breathless and a little ways away from the grave. Of course, she thinks. I always find my way back to my compass.

‘Jo.’ His voice is quiet and husky as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time.

This time the tears well in her eyes.

She allows herself one inhale to steady her breaking heart (again, it’s breaking again) and turns with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Welcome home, my boy.’ She says.

For a long moment they stand and merely look at each other.

‘I –‘ but she beats him to it.

‘I hear of your impending nuptials. Congratulations.’

‘No, you misunderstand.’

Unclear if she had heard him or not, she continues. ‘Amy was full of vigour when she spoke of Paris. It seems you left quite an impression on her young heart.’ She’s speaking to the ground now, unable to meet his eyes. ‘Though you have always had your ways with young, impressionable maids.’

‘I only ever cared for one.’

‘Amy will be happy to hear th - .’

‘I’m not marrying Amy!’ His voice is booming, her eyes look up with uncertainty.

‘Just for once, could you stop thinking you know everything and just listen?’ He begs.

‘Amy and I made a mistake. We were both wrought with grief and you weren’t there.’

She thinks he will begin a monologue but after a short silence instead he asks her a question. He takes a shaky breath.

‘Why didn’t you write to me about Beth?’

The knot is back. The one that sits in her throat and hinders her breathing.

Still, she can’t look him in the eyes. Her embarrassment is too great.

‘You hadn’t responded to any of my letters thus far. Writing to you about Beth seemed folly, like bait. I knew you would respond if I did but only out of loyalty to Beth, not out of loyalty…’ her voice breaks. ‘To me.’

‘I deserved to know.’

‘You found out through Amy - .’

‘I deserved to know from you.’

Her eyes flash and she feels a lick of hot anger in her stomach.

‘Deserve? Now you suddenly deserve to know? As if all my unanswered letters filled with woes and apologies weren’t suffering enough?’ Her voice grows hard. ‘What good does knowing of my suffering bring you? She was not your sister!’

It was mean. The one habit she hadn’t yet outgrown – lashing out when she felt attacked. It came too easily. She sees on his face that he feels no joy in her sorrow. He feels broken and beaten by this loss as much as she does. He too had loved Beth.

His words are so quiet, she almost doesn’t hear them. The way his voice shakes undoes her.

‘I miss her.’

Tears run down her face.

‘I miss us.’ She answers, the presence of the gravestone heavy at her back. ‘All of us. When we were younger and didn’t have a care in the world.’

She takes a breath. ‘Beth was the best of us.’

‘She was.’ He agreed quietly.

‘We need to be better for her.’ She feels tired as she looks at him, as if this conversation had taken everything out of her. Suddenly, he realizes she is missing her fight. His Jo is lost in the sea of her mind and sorrow.

‘Do you regret turning me down?’

It had to come to this. She knew it had to come to this. But speaking of it was too soon. Her heart still ached and she felt so young and stupid and at the same time so marred by the world. She tried to answer in a way that Beth would.

‘No,’ she says finally. ‘Because I could not have loved you then. All I could do was crave love.’ She takes in his face and pity overtakes hers. She wasn’t explaining this right. ‘Please understand that I have always felt suffocated by the rigid structures of the world we were born into. And yet, I longed for affection and love because I just felt… I feel…’ she falters, the tears threaten to spill again. ‘I am so lonely. Teddy, I am still so lonely.’

She sees him wrestle with himself. He takes a half a step towards her on pure instinct alone but stops mid-stride unsure if he is doing the appropriate thing. She continues.

‘Women have hearts and souls and dreams, just like men do. I have a heart and soul and a dream. And I don’t want to give any of that up simply because society tells me it is not right. I don’t want to marry out of loyalty to my Bourgeois generation or because every other woman is inclined to do so.’

He is shaking his head and this time the pity is in his eyes. For he knows how she suffers under the threat of society and he knows she could be free with him. One tiny conformity could grant her all the freedom she desires.

The words continue to pour out of her.

‘I realize now that … that women … that people have all kinds of different dreams. Meg wished nothing more than to be married to poor Mr Brookes and that has made her truly happy. But I don’t think she found happiness in an impoverished home but in the comfort of someone who truly sees her.’

‘I see you.’ He quietly interrupts.

A beat.

‘I know.’ She says back in a tiny voice.

They are looking at each other.

‘If you could not love me then, could you love me now?’

She is unsure. She still does not know if she is fit for loving and deserves the same in kind but Beth would say that there is no person in this world undeserving of kindness.

‘I will never be a good wife to you.’ He needed to know. ‘I will always be awkward and strange and vicious.’

He is nodding because he knows it is true.

‘And I may never want children. I have too much to give to this world to burden myself with raising a child.’

Then I will raise it. Teddy thinks to himself. It’s as simple as that.

It has always been as simple as that.

‘My fingers will always be ink stained and I will never slow down for you and … and …’ She looks at him, trying to come up with more excuses for her heart to not take this leap again.

‘And I will love you anyway.’ He concludes. ‘I will watch you love your writing, and your sisters and your liberty and I will only hope that you spare me a little of that affection too.’

They don’t move. They stand opposite each other, staring.

‘I told you it was your way – to care for somebody and love them until you die. Could you not let it be me? For my the worst fate of my life is also if I should live it without you.’

There is a hope in his pleading eyes that was not there before.

She gathers all her courage and in a tiny voice she says:

‘I think I should like to try my best.’

A quietness entered her soul. A tranquility.

Some souls are too entwined that they may never find peace.

But thankfully, these two have.

#little #little women 2019 #little women film #beewrites #bee writes #idk yall i was having FEELINGS YA KNOW??#so many feelings #greta gerwig #honestly i read the screenplay and worked off that bc it was brilliant and i cried #I CRIED THROUGHOUT ALL OF THE MOVIE AND THE SCREENPLAY OK???#judge me if you want #it is funny #and i am not ashamed

6 notes · View notes

smnthchrstn · 5 years

Text

I love you endlessly | Cordelia Goode x reader

author’s note: i’ve been working on this one for a while, friends. this is a cordelia x reader one-shot ft. reader having an eating disorder and cordelia realizing this and basically loving tf out of her. this is something that i’ve wanted to write for so long and started planning months ago. when i joined this fandom, i looked for something similar to this and couldn’t find it - so naturally, i had to write my own. please be mindful that this could be triggering for some. it also includes some mature themes and a hell of a lot of love. i wanna thank my friends, esp @echoesout for encouraging me to stumble out of my writer’s block and always want to say a biiiig 😍😘 @remuspolaris for giving me the soft and gentle mindset that i needed to be able to write something like this. the word count is: 3,156 i hope it helps someone out, thanks a lot for reading.

check out more of my writing here.

"Honey?" Hearing the word panicked you. You didn't think anyone would even be awake that early - certainly not Cordelia. Why would she be roaming the halls so early in the morning? Why hadn't the sink drowned out the sounds? You flushed the toilet and rinsed out your mouth, trying your hardest to not look as terrible as you felt. She knocked again and leaned her small frame against the door. "Honey, please let me in." You unlocked the door to worried eyes scanning the room, searching for answers. "Are you sick?" she asked next, her eyes scanning from the toilet seat to the stained towel on the sink. "No, I - no, I'm okay," you lied. "I thought maybe I needed to vomit, but I didn't, so." Cordelia's eyes locked on the vomit colored stain exposed on the towel. "Are you sure that you're feeling okay?" she asked. "Yeah," you answered cautiously. The worried expression didn't want to leave the older witch's face. She stepped forward to feel your forehead. "I'm fine," you said defensively. "I just want to see if you have a fever." You pulled back again, away from Cordelia's grasp. "I'm fine, Delia. I'm fine." The defensiveness caught her off guard, but she didn't really have a choice. She had to accept that, even if you'd been acting strangely.

Breakfast that morning went a little strange too. Something didn't sit well with Cordelia, but she couldn't obsess over that. She didn't want to air out your business, even if what happened at breakfast made the knots in her stomach a little worse. It didn't take much for the Supreme's wondering eyes to pick up on the little fact that you weren't eating. She noticed nearly everything. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, but she wouldn't embarrass you in front of the others. With each meal, she could tell you hadn't been consuming your food and had planned to confront you that night.

You'd been avoiding Delia all day and didn't know how much longer you could get away with it. Things had been going so well with your relationship and the guilt of lying to the girl that you really loved the most, maybe even the only girl you'd ever loved - killed you inside. The anxiety-filled you and sometime after you'd skipped dinner and before bedtime, you'd managed to sneak off to the kitchen. It started with a bagel. Then a piece of cake. That led to candy and baby carrots and chips and whatever you could get your hands on to fill the void. Anything that would help the guilt to subside. Bingeing only backfired, though. Your guilt for lying to Cordelia only turned into guilt over your appearance.

You stood in the bedroom, picking and pulling at your features, reminding yourself of all the parts you hated the most. You had to keep all of this a secret from Cordelia. If she learned what you were insecure about, wouldn't she see you that way too? Your thoughts had no choice but to come to an abrupt stop when she knocked gently and walked in. "I didn't see you in the library. Everything okay?" the Supreme asked. "Oh yeah, I snuck downstairs," you responded casually. "What were you looking for down there?" she questioned. "An apple," you lied. Cordelia didn't believe you but nodded anyway. "Let's go to bed. Sleep with me tonight?" she asked. Cordelia began undressing, feeling your eyes on her as she stood in her lingerie. You suddenly felt sick, thinking of all the food you'd consumed. "Love?" You reluctantly climbed into bed with Cordelia, knowing you needed to act as normal as possible. "I wanted to talk with you about something," Cordelia started to say. You tried to avoid her gaze, but knew you couldn't for long. "I - honey, I saw the stain on the towel, I noticed you wouldn't eat today," she started to say, hoping to word things in a way that wouldn't hurt or offend you. "What do you mean? I ate today," you retorted. "Not with everyone else." You huffed. "What stain?" Cordelia tensed a little. You hated when she did that, knowing that only happened during stressful situations. "The vomit stain on your bathroom towel this morning," she elaborated. "Now I don't want to upset you or accuse you, but I'm worried. I've been worried all day. You don't look good, you don't look like yourself." Unfortunately, your mind only heard 'you don't look good'. You blinked back the hurt tears in your eyes. "Maybe it's none of your business," you mumbled. "Maybe it is my business because I love you and don't want to see you hurting, especially in silence." You swallowed hard. She really didn't get it, did she? "You'd never even understand," you mumbled irritably. Cordelia watched you with concerned eyes. You knew in some way that you were being mean. "And for the record, I know that I don't look good," you muttered. The older witch extended her arm, placing a hand against your own arm. "Why would you say something like that? You always look good." You shrugged Cordelia away roughly, causing a hurt expression to come across the older woman's face. "What wouldn't I understand?" she questioned again. You still didn't want to tell her and wondered if you could get away with dropping the subject. Your gaze dropped to the blanket and a sick feeling settled within you. "God," you thought. All that food sickened you too. "I - I need to go to the bathroom," you suddenly stated. "There's one right here," Delia pointed out. "I mean, I need to go downstairs," you stuttered, standing quickly. With a simple raise of her hand, the Supreme shut and locked the door and tears began to well in your eyes. "What the hell is going on?" Cordelia asked, a little sternly. The worried look in her eyes only intensified with each peculiar statement and action. The tears only accumulated in your eyes, your throat closing up slightly at the entire situation you'd found yourself in. You could feel Cordelia's steady gaze and her watchful and concerned expression watching your own. You noticed your heartbeat thudding in your ears and could feel your blood pulsing through your veins at an alarming rate. You could almost taste the food coming back up your throat and did everything in your power to prevent that from happening. The lightest of touches grazed your hand's back and you knew you couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I - I can't stand myself," you finally admitted aloud. "I can't stand myself," you whispered, anger laced in your tone. You wouldn't dare to even take a quick glance at Cordelia's face. You swallowed hard. "I -" you stammered, your mind fumbling over every thought you had. The tears started to flow to your dismay and it only took mere seconds for Cordelia to wrap an arm around you, pulling you in as close as she possibly could. A swift finger dried a few tears that had managed to trickle down your left cheek. "You can tell me anything," the older witch reassured you. "I am by your side no matter what." You sucked in a deep breath, wishing you could curl up with the woman you loved, instead of having to share something like that. "I - I don't want you to think," you started to explain. "Think what?" she asked. "I don't want you to think that I'm disgusting." Your eyes squeezed shut at what you'd said and you suddenly weren't so sure if you could catch your breath. "Listen, listen to me. I could never, ever think that. You are so beautiful," Cordelia expressed in a very loving yet firm tone. You shut your eyes, allowing your shoulders to shrug away from the older witch. "I don't like my body. I hate my body. I do things sometimes that I think will make it easier, but something I really don't think that anything will work," you admitted, barely above a whisper. "Was that your vomit on the towel?" Cordelia cautiously asked. "Yeah. I - I didn't want you to know I feel this way, I didn't want to risk causing you to realize that I'm - that I'm gross," you said brokenly. Your tone and words shattered Cordelia's heart. How hadn't she figured it out?

"I'm going to need you to listen very carefully to what I have to say, okay?" she asked. You barely nodded. "There isn't anything in this world, nothing that you could tell me that would ever make me believe that you're any of these terrible things you've been painting yourself to be and it breaks my heart that you've been dealing with this alone. I don't see -" she began to say. "See? What do you mean you don't see? Everyone can see it all the time. I hate everything. My arms, my legs, my face, my stomach," you listed off angrily. "How can't you see it?" The older witch set a hand on you tenderly. "And how can't you see how gorgeous you are?" Cordelia asked. "If only I could show you what I see when I look at you," she carefully spoke. "You are the most beautiful person in the world to me. The things you hate, I couldn't love more," she admitted, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You finally looked to Cordelia. "That's easy for you to say - you've never had to see me naked." Cordelia knew she didn't need to see that to know you were incredibly attractive. "I know your heart - and that tells me everything I've ever needed to know." The thudding in your chest had slowed down substantially until you heard those words. In a split second, you'd placed a hand over the Supreme's jaw, cupping it tenderly as you leaned in - your lips crashing against her own. The kiss surprised Delia, but she wouldn't dare pull away, never from one of your kisses. Cordelia's hand slid up your arm, her fingertips gently trickling up and causing instantaneous goosebumps along your skin. You breathed quickly and subtly as your hold on the older witch tightened. Your tongue slid lovingly against Cordelia's, tasting every inch of her mouth.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, the Supreme peppered kisses against the sensitive skin near your pulse point, hitting every spot to drive you wild. When Cordelia asked if she could take her shirt off, you definitely didn't argue - you encouraged her. Your hands explored the older woman's arms, not being able to detect a single imperfection on her skin. Cordelia's warm breath settled against your ear and the more she nibbled, the more you felt. "Delia," you groaned. "You know what I'd love to do?" she whispered. You had an idea, but you'd never done that with her before - mostly due to your own insecurities. "I would love to spend all the time in the world showing you how much I love you, how much I love your body. How I love the things that keep you alive, how proud I am of your body for knowing what you need and always taking care of you," she whispered into your ear. Her breath against your skin caused your lower stomach to tremble. "I'm scared," you were ashamed to admit. Cordelia lifted her head, brushing her fingertips lightly across your cheek. "You don't have to be scared with me, I love you endlessly."

She'd started at the top, pressing kisses along your hairline, soft and steady. She traveled to your forehead, leaving wet and gentle kisses, pressing air light smooches over your eyelids and whispering sweet nothings about how your eyes work so you can see all the beauty the world has to offer. She pressed a soft kiss to your nose, reminding you of how your nose allows you to smell amazing things - flowers in the greenhouse, bagels in the morning and Cordelia's own perfume. She trailed her way over to each ear, reminding you of all the glorious sounds your ears could hear; music, voices, dogs panting and babies giggling. She nibbled the outer part of both of your ears, pressing gentle kisses and sweet nibbles to the exposed skin. The older witch moved her lips to your cheeks, giving them love as she passed by. You wondered if she could feel the warmth of your growing blush. Cordelia didn't stay for long though, moving on to your chin. That made you a little uneasy - not as much as other places, but with each gentle press of her lips, you could almost feel that insecurity melt away. At least with Cordelia. It didn't surprise you in the slightest when a quick "oops, how could I forget this?" left her mouth and you'd suddenly been granted the best kiss of your life. You could taste every inch of her mouth with your own and it only made you want more. "Think of all the smart, lovely words that have left these lips," she mumbled against your mouth. "Think of all that you do, all you impact. All that you taste; food, water - and me." Kisses trailed down your jawline, each one sending a flutter directly to your heart. She started to pepper kisses down your neck but struggled to gain access to all the space she wanted. You noticed that too and a part of you so badly wanted to let her in. You loved her and you trusted her.

"Are you sure?" she asked once you'd given her the green light. You helped her to remove your shirt, carefully covering the newly revealed skin with a blanket. Now that she had the room, she maneuvered her way down your neck, nipping and kissing and even sucking a little at the exposed skin. Merely tracing her fingertip over your collarbone sent a series of shivers down your spine. It took everything in you to not fold yourself into Cordelia right there and then. Your arms came next. Delia started with your fingers, taking her sweet time with each one, reminding you of all the good things you could do with your hands - even things you hadn't used them for yet. She moved her lips over your veins, tracing each on that led up to your arm. She kissed over the tired skin, reminding you that your arms were strong. They could hold loved ones, carry things, and help you do daily things that people often take for granted. She reminded you that it didn't matter how they looked to you or anyone else - because arms are arms and nothing more or less.

Despite not having full access to it, the older witch managed to straddle your lower half so she could focus on the rest of your body. Her eyes settled on the cleavage she could see from her viewpoint. "You are gorgeous," she breathed. "Is this okay?" she asked, watching you nod before placing one hand strategically to cup your breast. "If you ever have a child, these will help feed them," she pointed out. "They could never be too big or too little - they're perfect just the way they were given to you." Your eyes shut for a moment while Cordelia moved her hand to your chest. "And even though I can't see it and no one can outwardly, this keeps you alive. And each time you go through any trial or tribulation, it keeps beating and the sun always comes up the next morning, doesn't it?" You blinked back the tears in your eyes, nodding slightly. She scooted a tiny bit, allowing herself room to touch your torso. She placed a tiny kiss over your heart, before trailing her fingertips over each of your ribs, feeling the bones underneath your skin. Her hands trailed down your sides, sending shiver after shiver down your spine - tingles everywhere. You grew fearful when her fingers inched closer, even despite all that Cordelia had done, you were still concerned that she wouldn't be so sure about you once she saw all of you. She'd finally reached your stomach, something that made you increasingly nervous. "Breathe," Cordelia reminded you. "I love you. I love every little thing about you - don't worry about a single thing." So you closed your eyes, feeling your love trace her fingers over your body's imperfections. And then her lips, feeling the swarm of butterflies fill your insides with each kiss, raspberry, or make she'd leave upon your tender skin. How loved Cordelia finally made you feel, how comfortable you felt in your own skin.

With a kiss or two underneath your belly button, Cordelia placed a hand on the waistband of your pants. "May I?" she asked. You nodded once, feeling a tingle below your waist and had to bite your lip. She trailed kisses down your stomach and stopped when she reached your underwear. She slid her hands down your legs, feeling the shivers echo through your body. Cordelia placed kisses over your skin, smoothing her lips over any imperfections she felt, soaking each one up in love. Her hands found their way to your thighs, slowly trickling closer and closer. Your lower stomach ached with need, wishing you could pull her into you. She left wet and hot kisses against your inner thighs, causing you to push back against the bed, a soft moan leaving your lips. When Cordelia's hand cupped you and she could physically feel how wet she'd made you, she knew it'd be cruel to make you wait any longer.

"How do you feel?" That was a good question. You felt a lot; loved, accepted, relieved. "I just love you," you chose breathlessly, curling against Cordelia's side. She smoothed out your hair, looking you over in the dark. The older woman closed her eyes, taking solace in the way she could feel your steady breathing. "I would be foolish to expect a little lovemaking to fix all of your problems, but I'd like to remind you that we're in this together. I want to help you through this. What you've been doing isn't safe and I think deep down you know that." You opened your eyes, giving Cordelia an emotional stare. "Okay," you whispered. "I'm going to need you for a long time. I'm going to need you to let me help you. I'm going to need you to be kinder to yourself and I'm sure this is all hard for you. I'm not leaving your side, okay? I know you don't know how to do this on your own." The witch reached over to wipe the tears from your face. "I love you, Delia," you whispered. "And I love you. We're going to get through this together, I promise."

#cordelia x reader #cordelia goode #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven #ahs fic #my ficx #she lives aka me i'm alive hi

143 notes · View notes