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misserabella · 2 days

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ask nicely

bodyguard abby x str!pper reader

summary; your night was going good until some asshole tried touching you. abby stepped in to save you and took you to a safe place. what happens when you find yourselves alone in a private room?

cw; +18 content, minors dni!!, sa (groping) coming from a man towards reader, abby kicks him out, tension, reader flirts, reader is in lingerie, abby being a gentlewoman, drinking (reader), lots of teasing, groping (coming from abby so we like it), making out, hair pulling, dom! abby and switch! reader, bratty reader, abby being an asshole, praising, begging, dirty talking, tit and nipple play (r receiving), use of good girl, choking, multiple orgasms implied, lots of teasing…

you were having a pretty good night. the club was full. your makeup looked gorgeous, your dancing routine had never came out better and the money kept flowing in steadily.

but of course something, or better said, someone had to come by and ruin it.

his hands are warm, and big on your hips, his breath smelled like alcohol as he leant on your face, trying to kiss you. “come on, sweetheart, just one little taste…” you were dodging his attempts, trying to move away, but he’s insistent and you’re getting tired of it.

lucky enough, a kind soul comes to your rescue, taking you out of the disgusting man’s grasp. you can’t help but sigh in relief when you see her. her 6ft tall height, her muscular arms dressed in a tight black muscle tee and his big thighs in a just as tight black pants… its making you salivate. her blonde hair is up on a braid, and there’s a scowl on her pretty features as her rough voice cuts the air.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

it makes you shiver. how she handles the man that easily, how she manhandles him and pulls him away from you as if he weighted nothing. your thighs clench at the thought of being under her touch and strong hands. would she be rough with you too? would she manhandle you like she had with the man? would she be soft, treat you kindly?

“kick this fucker out.” your mind was spiraling in thoughts as the other security member came at her order and took the man away to kick him out of the club, but she pulled you away from all of it with her voice, this time softer, worried.

“are you okay?” your eyes met her sky blue ones, and you swore you could melt. you fixed your lingerie set, somehow worried you’d be in disarray. you weren’t. you looked as perfect as ever under her glance. irresistible.

you nodded, afraid that if you spoke she’d understand the whine in your voice. how her protection affected you.

“come with me.” she offered, her warm hand on the low of your back to guide you to one of the private rooms where you took clients for private shows.

you found yourself walking slower than how you usually did to elongate the feeling of her touch on your skin, your hips swaying at her side.

you sighed when you heard the click of the door behind you, your hands making quick work of pouring yourself a drink.

“thank you. i needed some air.” you muttered to the woman, who nodded.

“i figured.” she gave you a soft smile.

“would you like some?” you inquired her, raising the bottle of bourbon.

“sorry. working.” she turned the offer down, and you grinned.

“responsible. cute.” something inside abby stirred at your comment, her cheeks reddening slightly under the dim lights. her eyes were everywhere but on your body, and you noticed.

you took a sip of your drink, sighing.

“my night was going so good… until that pig started bothering me.” you said. “but thanks to you… i don’t have to worry about no one touching me again, huh, abby?” you smirked, your voice low, sending shivers down her spine as your heels clacked towards her.

you’ve been observing her for a while, craving her for just as long. and you could tell she did as well. so what was stopping her? was she afraid she’ll break you? if so… why did you want it so badly?

“i wouldn’t let anybody touch you…” she swallowed, her eyes on yours, even when you stood practically naked on front of her. such good manners…

“good…” one of your manicured nails trailed down her chest, she took a step back, her back flush against the door, with no scape when you followed her. “‘cause i wouldn’t let anybody touch me except you.” you smiled, and her eyes widened, mouth falling ajar.

“except for me?” you hummed, your chest pressed against hers as you looked at her lips. if she didn’t want that she could easily deny you, push you away, but she wasn’t, and she wouldn’t.

“only you.”

your words seemed to shift something in her, ‘cause next thing you knew is that it was you the one being caged in between her strong body and the door, her lips hungrily ravishing yours in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. you moaned against her mouth, giving her the opportunity to push her tongue inside, tasting the bourbon out of your spit. your arms surrounded her neck, pulling her closer, her own on your hips, pressing you against her front.

“abby…” you sighed as her lips trailed down your neck, her teeth slightly biting your sensitive skin.

“you don’t know what you do to me…” she muttered. “always looking so perfect… so fucking beautiful. makes it difficult to hold back.” you smirked, pulling from her perfectly made braid and winning a groan.

“then don’t. i like you when you’re gentle with me. but i think i’ll like it more when you aren’t.” she bit down on her lip.

“fuck. you drive me crazy.” you smiled as her warm hands cupped your ass, hosting you up so you’d surround her hips, walking you towards the sofa or the room to plop down, pulling you down against her strong thighs.

you sigh, your hips waving against hers, making her grunt as she gropes at the meat of your ass, thrusting you harder against her body. you can see the way her muscles pop in her arms, feel how her thighs clench underneath you. and it only adds to the wetness that’s already soaking your lace thin panties. the fact that it was the only thing that kept her from touching you was driving you insane.

your hands came behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving it aside and biting your lips under her hungry gaze. you smirked, taking the back of her hand and pulling her towards your chest, moaning when she gave you what you wanted, her lips wrapping around your perky nipples, sucking and licking over the buds until spit left them shiny and her teeth, swollen and sensitive. as she played with you, one of her hands, —the one that didn’t play with your free breast— came down in between your legs, her expert fingers touching you from beneath your panties.

“you’re soaked.” she smirked as she noticed the slick mess you’d become by just a few kisses and touches. “someone needs it bad, huh?” you groaned.

“give me what i want.” you ordered as you tugged from her hair and she scoffed.

“manners.” she answered. “only good girls get what they want. if you want something you need to ask for it.” you whined.

“i want you to touch me.”

“but i’m touching you.” you moaned as her fingers squeezed your nipple.

“you know what i mean…”

“i still want to hear you say it.” she whispered and your hips rocked against her fingertips in seek of relief.

“i want your fingers. in my pussy.” you breathed against her lips. “is that clear enough for you?” you spat, and she chuckled, humming with that cocky smirk of hers that you’d absolutely despise if it didn’t turn you on so much.

“say please.” you groaned, looking down at her as daggers left your eyes. she was teasing you. pushing all your buttons to break you. and she did.

“please.” you gritted in between your teeth, and she pinched your nipple harder, making you whimper and your hips buck as she pressed up against your cunt with her hand, brushing your clit.

“be sweet about it.” you were pleading now.

“please abby, please. fuck me.”

“atta girl…” she praised in a low voice, and then she was pushing your panties aside and finally giving you what you wanted. a honey sweet moan left your lips when her fingers brushed your sensitive clit, drawing tight circles that left you shuddering.

she whistled due to how easily her fingers slipped in between your folds. “completely soaked for me, huh? so fucking pretty…” all breath left your lungs as two of her thick fingers plunged inside of you, stretching your walls and making a slick sound dive into the music that surrounded the two of you. “so tight…”

“fuck.” you groaned as she curled them, easily finding your g spot and making your back arch.

“right there, hm? look at you…” her free hand came up to surround your neck, keeping you in place. “so ready to take everything i give you, hm?” you nodded.

“yes… yes, please. anything…” you begged as she started to thrust in and out of you, your slick wetting her fingers and making white rings up her knuckles.

she chuckled. “so all i needed to do for you to behave was bury my fingers knuckle deep in your pussy, huh?” you whimpered when she curled them once again.

“shut up.” you stuttered and she laughed, curling her fingers faster and harder, making you moan and curse. “fuck, abby...”

“you sound so pretty like this, moaning my name. do it again.”

“abby, please, make me cum, please…” her thumb came up to your clit, and her grip on your throat tightened.

“you wanna cum? wanna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded. “then beg for it.”

“please…” you cried out, feeling the warmth on your lower stomach rising. you were so close… “please let me cum, please…” she hummed.

“such a good girl…” you whimpered at the praise, your walls clenching around her fingers. “go ahead angel, wanna see it drip.” with a few more curls of her dingers and circles on your swollen and sensitive clit, you fell apart, moans spilling from your lips as she helped you ride it, sucking at your nipples to extend it. “thaaat’s it. good fucking girl.”

it was not necessary to say that abby made you cum again, and again, and maybe a couple more times…

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luvvixu · 10 hours

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mind over matter pt. 2

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: couldn't still believe that this ff blew up like tysm for all of your support! and thank you so much for waiting~ and like always, this is not proofread lol

previous / masterlist / next

“if i'm not mistaken, the mission would take at least three to four business days.” yaga passes satoru a sheet of paper where it contains all of the information he needed to know and what kind of things he should focus on investigating.

satoru looked at his former teacher in uncertainty despite the blindfold in his eyes. he's very hesitant to take the mission not because he cannot beat this curse, but because he still needs to apologize to you as soon as possible.

“yaga, c—can i not…” satoru was about to continue when he suddenly trailed off.

“not what?” yaga raises his eyebrow.

but to think that it's all his fault, he must have really hurted you this time, and you wouldn't probably hear him out that easily. that is why satoru thinks that it is best to just give you some space as of now, and when he comes back from his mission, that is the time when he would bother you with his presence.

“it's nothing. i’ll be taking my leave now.”

“very well—” before yaga could even finish his sentence, satoru already vanished in thin air.

the duo, yuuji and megumi, was on their way to visit you just like what they had promised to themselves a while ago.

it was around eight o'clock in the evening and here they are, kind of tiptoeing through the hallway where your room is located.

“i think it's better to let her know our presence first.” megumi said quietly to the pink haired male while holding out a basket with foods that are suitable for digestion of a pregnant lady.

“then it wouldn't be a surprise if we told her.” yuuji then answered. he was carrying two board games on his left arm and a uno card on his right hand. you actually once told them that you were exceptionally good at these kinds of games, so yuuji wanted to test that out.

suddenly, the two boys stopped in front of a door where they immediately froze at the smell of something oddly familiar. “me…megumi, is this y/n sensei’s room?” yuuji slowly mumbles out a word, his eyes going wide.

however, megumi didn't answer him. instead, he immediately tries to open the door without any hesitation just to know that it is locked.

panic slashed across their faces as the smell of blood coming out of your room becomes the leading factor of their franticness behavior.

“y/n sensei! are you there?!” yuuji keeps on calling out to you while megumi does the door breaking.

“it's locked! i can’t break the door!” curse these doors in jujutsu high. megumi could not help but to mumble profanities when he remembered that the doors in jujutsu high are purposely made this strong so any invading curses could not sneak in especially during sleeping hours where most of the sorcerers are vulnerable.

“itadori! call yaga sensei and shoko-san, quick!” megumi screamed at the other boy, whom he instantly obliged.

a weave of panic surge on their bodies because you are involved in this situation. not to mention, you are pregnant on top of that and that puts the situation into a more nerve-wracking experience.

sweat drips on megumi’s forehead as he still tries to break the door. kicks and punches were made but still the door wouldn't flinch his attacks. the idea of using his curse technique came into his mind but he's afraid that it would worsen the situation.

sooner and faster, yuuji came back with the two elders running faster than before. both also have a panic flash on their faces as yaga begins to break the door with his insane force. and after countless tries, he successfully invades the door.

everybody froze at the sight, because there they saw you, lying unconsciously in a pool of your blood that trickled down on your lower body.

“shit! what happened?!” shoko was the first to react and immediately came closer to you to check your pulse, it was there but weak. then shoko proceeds to check your baby's heartbeat, and to her disappointment, there was none that she could detect.

“yaga sensei, please help me get y/n to my clinic. now!” without a further do, yaga carefully lifted up your body and then proceeded to follow the frantic shoko to her said clinic.

on the other hand, yuuji and megumi watch the two elders quickly move away from the scene and that leaves the two. they had been quiet all the time, probably still traumatized because they just saw one of their teachers (plus with an unborn child) on the literal verge of dying.

megumi's eyes trailed on the pool of blood that had been sitting on your floor. he could tell that you had been unconscious for like way past an hour now due to some parts of the blood being fresh while some parts were dried.

“what the hell just happened…?” yuuji was still flabbergasted. he would never expect that this would happen when he just visualizes this night as a fun one because he got everything ready for a surprise mini party to cheer you up.

“i don't know.” megumi solemnly answered.

“...do you think y/n sensei and her baby would be alright?” yuuji added, totally worried about your situation.

for the first time in his life, megumi didn't think he that would utter the same word but with a different tone, different meaning, and in a different situation.

“i…i don't know.”

satoru gojo was busy walking through the busy street of roppongi despite the sky being nighttime. the whole atmosphere was still so lively from bright signage up to crowded night market stalls. this makes a perfect night for a perfect leisure.

but satoru isn't here to do that. he was supposed to do a job and finish it as soon as possible so he could get back to you and finally do the right thing.

he was about to enter an abandoned building when he received a phone call. without looking at the caller, he answered.

“what?”

“where are you?” it was his corporate friend, nanami.

a teasing smile made it into his demeanor. “oh wow! here is my underclassmen calling me first—!”

“i am asking you, where are you?” nanami was clearly not in the mood for his bullshit. his tone was beyond serious and it made satoru wonder if something happened.

“i'm in roppongi. somewhere behind a luxurious night bar.” gojo said.

the moment he said his address, the phone suddenly dropped. confused, the six eyes looked at his phone then just shrugged it off. for the second time, he was about to enter the said building when someone appeared from behind.

“you should go back.” there he saw nanami, breathless as he tried to catch his breath. looks like he ran his way towards his location.

“yo, my man! what are you doing he—”

“go back to the jujutsu high. i’ll be taking your mission here.” nanami explained like he was .

did something happen? was on satoru's mind.

“why?” satoru dropped all of his mischievousness as it was replaced by his unhidden worry—you were literally there at the jujutsu high.

there was a pause on nanami, he seemed very hesitant to say it and satoru was growing impatient.

“just say it nanami—”

“yaga asked me to take your mission on your behalf after something happened. it's about your wife. she was found unconscious in her room.”

never ever in his life he could feel the quickest adrenaline rush in his body as nanami didn't even manage to utter the last syllables of his sentence when satoru already uses his technique and teleports himself towards your room back in jujutsu high.

and there, he was welcomed by the janitors of the said school, mopping the dried liquid on the floor. the smell was so familiar that it made his body tremble in a span of a second.

“w-what the fuck happened here?” he asked the janitor who looked at him in pity as he continued to solemnly wipe the floor.

“miss y/n was found unconscious and there was blood…in her lower area.”

blood, y/n, unconscious, my wife, danger, the baby…my baby!

that was the only thing that came into his mind as he went out of the hallway and ran somewhere he wasn't aware of. his mind raced with negative thoughts.

and since his life is not always about sugarcoating—he thought that probably you just had a miscarriage, got attacked by some curses, or worse, you're dead. his wife, you, were hurt when he was away and not even there to at least protect you.

unbeknownst, to the man, tears were threatening to slip down his six eyes, making his blindfold become wet as it was being absorbed by his tears constantly. satoru could feel that his body was filled with self-loathing, guilt, and regret all over his system.

“satoru.” a voice called him from behind. satoru does not need to turn around to know who it was. it was yaga.

“come to my office.” without waiting for him, yaga already left with satoru trailing behind him. taking off his blindfold, satoru wiped the tears that were about to fall.

when they arrived at yaga’s office, he saw his two students, yuuji and megumi, sitting quietly by the couch. they were both acting quietly odd, like they knew what was going on too.

“where's y/n?” satoru asked.

“do you want to know what happened first?” yaga avoided his question for now. instead, he goes into the other aspect that he's been wondering too. satoru fell quiet, so yaga took it as a yes.

the principal looked at the two students who were already looking at him. sighing deeply, yaga then proceeds to start explaining.

“y/n was found unconscious by these two. it has been over an hour since she's been in that situation judging by the dryness of her blood. right now, we still had no idea about her state since shoko's the one who's been handling the situation. and it's been a while too since we have seen her.”

“and the baby…i'm sorry, gojo. but we have no idea either.” yaga sighed heavily. satoru was all silent, he couldn't bring himself to utter any word. he was too caught up about the situation that he had so many things to say to the point that he couldn't figure out where to start.

“i know it's not my business to interfere but…did something happen that leads to this?” the principal asked the strongest. the next moment was something that everyone expected—they did not receive any response from the man.

suddenly, the door burst open, revealing the tired doctor. her eyes landed on your husband who's still frozen about your condition. on the other hand, satoru was too busy drowning himself with his thoughts to notice shoko in the room.

“itadori, megumi…go back to your dorm for now. it's getting late and i’ll just update you two tomorrow.” shoko scurry the two younger boys and they obliged.

as the door in yaga's office closed, the three grown-ups fell into a silent atmosphere, only the sound of the air ventilation could be heard inside.

“h-how’s y/n and the child?” yaga was the first one to speak among the three. but shoko's attention was drawn to gojo only and gojo was still unable to move.

“her situation was so severe that we needed to put her into a hospital as soon as possible.” shoko said quietly and directed to gojo only. her eyes were trailed to him, and only him. she wants him to taste the bitter medicine of his aftermath and she is going to make sure he's taking it.

call her brutal and cruel, but in your realm of marriage where her role is only being a worried close friend, she would choose you over everything. that's how much she cares for you. shoko could see what kind of person you are, and she believes that you deserve better than what you are right now.

sure, gojo was right when he said that she'd only known you for a short period of time. but that is enough for her to determine that she is going to stick by your side whatever may happen. because she knows how a gojo satoru works, she knows what kind of person he could be.

if gojo can manage to leave shoko out in his life, then he could do it to y/n too.

“she was bleeding too much, i'm afraid it has to do with the child. so if we don't act fast, we might have to choose who to save—are we going to save y/n and lose the baby? are we going to save the baby and lose y/n? or…what if we lose them both—”

*boogsh!*

a sudden explosion was seen. the four walls inside yaga’s office have officially become three when satoru couldn't handle his emotions that he let his cursed energy slip and create a hole into one of yaga’s walls. the impact was so strong that it literally shook the whole jujutsu high.

and surprisingly, none of the three inside the scene was scratched, just emotionally taken aback. the once gojo satoru who couldn't even utter a word earlier, was now looking at shoko with a mixture of menace, trouble, anger, grief, and…extreme sadness.

shoko ties his stare, looking equivalently. “did you hear what i said, gojo? your wife and your baby are currently facing the grim reaper. do you understand that?” she said calmly but there is a hit or hardness into her tone.

“shut up! fucking shut up!” another surge of curse energy flows in different directions, making yaga and shoko feel goosebumps on how strong it is.

“satoru!” yaga yelled in panic.

“where is she? where the fuck is she?! show me where she is!” satoru screamed at the doctor. shoko, whose face is now back to emotionless, decides to subside her annoyance to the man as she knows you are the top priority right now.

“i will let you see her. but once you see her, you have to teleport us into the hospital immediately if you still want to see her open her eyes.” shoko said seriously. thankfully, satoru managed to calm himself alone and just stared at shoko, waiting for her to continue.

“y/n was experiencing placenta abruption. it's a very serious complication in her case because the placenta in the inner wall of her uterus is completely detached. it greatly affects the baby’s supply of oxygen and nutrients and the situation causes her to bleed heavily.”

“i immediately minimize the bleeding but i cannot guarantee the two's safety, especially the baby, since it is not worth the risk to imply cursed energy to an unborn child—” before shoko could even finished explaining, satoru already stormed out of the room and just proceeds to the room where his guts tell you where. he was being followed by shoko who was screaming at him.

opening one of the doors, there he saw you all pale. he could feel your cursed energy barely beating, and that scared the shit out of him because that indicates your weakness.

“o-oh god…” satoru couldn't help but to feel his breathing pattern becoming irregular as a single tear followed by another drop from his gorgeous powerful blue eyes.

this can't be happening. you were just fine a while ago!

“y/n, oh my g-god! my wife…” gojo satoru, known by his title as the strongest sorcerer in his generation, was seen crying over his dying wife and dying unborn child. his tall figure was trembling in tangled emotions that he couldn't even determine the two ends.

“sorry to ruin your moment, but if you want to save your family, it's better for us to keep moving now.” shoko followed the suit, still savage as ever.

gojo does what she said and teleports the three of you into the bestest hospital that he knows. ignoring the toll on his cursed energy as it took more, more than the usual usage, satoru believes that your well-being should be his priority rather than his.

when they arrived, shoko immediately started to bump the people out of the way and started to call for help. “someone! get us to an emergency!” she screamed.

meanwhile, satoru keeps your body close to him. hugging your frame ever so delicately, scared that you might break or disappear.

a man like satoru gojo, whom to some called him a man-god, find himself crying out to every gods and deities out there to help you, to help him get this through. he prays and prays to keep you safe and how he's sorry for all of the things he would do.

for sure, he knew this sudden care for you is not born out of pity or regret, it is a late realization on how much he couldn't bear to see you like this. because deep inside him, satoru couldn't deny the warm feeling of having someone that was waiting for him to come home, provide him service, and even give him a bundle of joy.

the words he swore to himself that he doesn't need a wife to console his woes as he is completely capable of being by himself was getting eaten by his current self. served on a silver platter, satoru didn't mind eating his own words.

a stretcher was bought on sight and shoko instructed him to put your body there and watch the series of doctors rush your body into the emergency room. satoru watches the light above the door where you were in turns red, signaling that it requires immediate medical attention.

placing his traumatized body on one of the cold walls of the hospital, sliding his man shoulders and crumbling himself into small pieces to make himself as small as possible. never he would have thought that the night would end with him continuing to pray for your safety.

satoru didn't realize that he dozed off within the walls of a random corner of a hospital where he brought you in. he only realized his current situation when he could feel someone kicking his lower body constantly.

opening his tired eyes, he saw shoko eyeing him while still continuing to nudge him. “good, you're awake.” she said.

it feels like a surge of energy flows to his body and it immediately makes him rise up faster than he could. that was also when he started to feel all of the aches in his body just from sleeping in that kind of position.

“fuck, my whole body aches.” he mumbles to himself. satoru was about to stretch himself when he saw the time on the wall.

5:05 AM

and then his eyes landed on the door.

there was no red light anymore.

“y/n. shoko, where's y/n?!” anxiousness washed all over his body. he didn't know what to expect on what answers he's about to receive regarding his family condition.

meanwhile, shoko thinks that gojo looked like a lost puppy on how his eyes literally beg for a positive answer. despite his six foot frame, he looks like a poor and desperate child.

“the operation ended an hour ago. y/n was now stable and goy transferred into one of the private rooms. while the baby…” she pauses.

“w-what? what happened to my baby?” shoko almost grimaces the way satoru addresses the unborn child, wondering where the hell did he get the guts to say that.

the doctor was this close to brutally and savagely roast this man until he flew in shame—that’s how mad, angry, and upset shoko from what satoru did to you. but today is not the suitable day for that, she may be cruel but she had limits. so, shoko forcefully swallowed the harsh words and decided to just put it aside.

“the baby was delivered early through cesarean, it's the only way to save y/n and the child. the baby is currently in a neonatal intensive care unit where the bestest doctors monitor the child until it reaches mature development.”

so basically, you give birth to his child. satoru couldn't explain what he's feeling right now. he's happy for the baby, and yet at the same time, he feels really undeserving, but he still wants to be part of the child's life—this is too complicated for him.

and besides, this is not the right time to contemplate. because as a husband and father, he needed to stay with his family to provide them love, support, and to patch that once had been wounded. and he's going to start with…

“can i go and see y/n?” deep inside him, satoru felt ridiculous for asking that question since he is the literal husband! or was he? after everything he had done to her for five years?

shoko then tiredly pointed at the room at the end of the hallway and satoru, with the help of his long legs, never ran faster than his whole life.

gently opening the door in your room, satoru was greeted by your peaceful and sleeping form with all of the tubes connected on the back of your hand. closing the door behind him, satoru finally let go of the tears he's been holding the whole time, ranging from the confrontation with you until to to this situation.

sitting on the chair beside your bed, satoru weeps as he holds your arm. at this moment, the strongest no longer exists, it was just gojo satoru who couldn't stop himself from muttering an apology to his wife that he did so wrong.

they say, you would only realize the importance of something when it's now late. satoru would absolutely agree to that statement and he could even provide proofs and evidence. at first, he's being a total dick and douchebag to his wife who clearly doesn't even do anything wrong to him. then his own wife endured all of his actions for the whole five years and still remained as if their relationship could be only determined on a sheet of paper.

“i'm sorry. i'm so sorry.” satoru may not know what would happen the moment you would open your eyes. would you send him away? or would you let him stay despite all of the pain and trauma he caused you? for now, he can never know.

but one thing he's going to let you know, he's going to change for you and for his baby. he's done doing things for himself, and now, he should focus on you.

and he's going to start with cutting all of his ties to his mistress.

[part 3 will be announced as soon as possible, for those who wanted to be tagged, just say it on the comments — ©luvvixu2024]

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @tttttttf @slyhersophia @rirk-ke @username23345 @lvstru @neteyxms

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bellsmess · 23 hours

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Whenever someone calls Charles Rowland straight an angel dies.

What straight guy tells his best friend who just confessed to him that there's no one else – no one – he would go to Hell for. and that they have forever to figure out what that means. You don’t get his repressed bisexuality like i do!

Even modern bisexuals (I may or may not be speaking from personal experience) are oblivious to the fact they're bi because heteronormative roles are so engraved in our minds. when you're attracted to other genders, it's easy to miss a same-sex crush, only then to realise that oh, it wasn’t just admiration, it was attraction.

Charles, having grown up at the height of the AIDS crisis, with an abusive and probably homophobic father, killed by racist bullies? That would make anyone repress any gay feelings. Especially if you experience crushes on people with a different sex than you.

Charles sees Crystal and takes his chance. He's enamoured with this smart, strong-willed, pretty girl who can see him not only in a physical sense, but pays attention to him. He longs to be loved. Then he says the infamous "That sounds alot like you, doesn't it? Maybe that's why I like her so much" line. What an icon. And compares himself and his best friend to the greatest love story of all time, Orpheus and Euridyce's.

When Edwin confesses to him, he doesn't rule out the possibility of returning these feelings. He knows they're already devoted to each other. They'vealready had 30 years of companionshipand solving cases together.

"As long as I have my best mate and a case to solve I'm good."

Being with Edwin is simple. They solve cases, help others, run away from Death. Charles gave up eternity to be with Edwin, because he was kind to him when he was dying. Charles finds him fun, wants to protect him, knows that Edwin is the kind and good person. One that Charles wants to be.

"Bad guys don't worry about being bad guys. And you, Charles Rowland, are the best person I know."

Crystal's role is very important in changing the dynamic between Edwin and Charles. Not only because Charles falls for her, but because she opens them up. She digs out their repressed feelings and trauma. Charles finally deals with his dad's abuse, his happy-go-lucky mask falls. She points it out to Edwin. Charles kept it up so well because Edwin didn't press it, but Crystal does. And Charles finally lets himself process what happened to him, and how that affects his relationships.

Charles never saw genuine love between his parents, and that affects how he views relationships. It impacts how he forms them, too. But he's a loverboy, he longs to be loved, he falls easily. Why wouldn’t he fall for someone who stuck to his side for 30 years?

Crystal and Monty's roles mirror each other – they help the boys figure out their feelings and desires. Crystal makes Edwin jealous that there's someone else Charles cares about in the same sense he cares for Edwin. The Cat King helps Edwin discover desire, Monty – genuine love. As Charles' and Crystal's relationship kickstarts (albeit ends as quickly) and Monty persues Edwin, he discovers the depth of his feelings.

"These complicated feelings that you have? They're for Charles."

I would love to see their wants explored more in the future season(s, hopefully multiple). Charles giving into desire with Desire of the Endless' guidance? Yes please.

I simply cannot believe that anyone would doubt Painland/Payneland endgame. They're everything to each other. They're a constant presence, reassurance, and love. Platonic, romantic, it doesn't matter. Their bond is so deep and genuine that immortal beings see it and leave them be, in the afterlife they chose for each other. Their love is so deep it transcends planes: from mortal plane to Hell, it leads Charles to Edwin. Charles is not Orpheus, when he turns around to hear Edwin out on the staircase from Hell, he manages to get him out. And they have literally forever.

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #painland #payneland

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penkura · 2 days

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No One Better

Note: Ahh I didn't know how to go about this, but here it is! It's another in the OP Men as Dads series, but this one is ONLY Zoro and his son. I just had this idea after seeing this OC template on Pinterest, and I had to do it, I couldn't not. I have thoughts floating around for other characters in this same vein of calming down their children, and I will post them separately like this most likely! For now, please enjoy Zoro being a wonderful, soft dad to his little boy. 🥹 I want to have his babies so bad, where is my irl Zoro omg

Your son may be Zoro’s child too, but he’s a big crybaby when either of you are missing from his sight. He could be happily sitting in your lap or on Zoro’s chest, but when Keitaro notices one of you isn’t around, he immediately pouts and begins to cry. At first it’s legitimate tears, until he learns that he can get you with crocodile tears because that’s your baby boy, of course you’re going to run to him when he cries! You figured it out quickly when he instantly started to smile and coo at you the first time he cried crocodile tears to get your attention, Zoro didn’t believe you for a few weeks until your ten-month-old did it to him too. He just loves you and Zoro so much, he wants you both around him all the time.

Zoro is able to calm him down very easily, just by talking to Keitaro gently. An older woman on an island you stopped at was surprised to see how easily Keitaro calmed down and went from nearly sobbing to happy little giggles when Zoro just took him from you and started asking him what was wrong, why was he so upset all of a sudden (he couldn’t see Zoro standing nearby, that was the problem). The woman was highly impressed and said her own husband hadn’t been that good with their children, it made you smile and thank her for the compliment, since you knew Zoro would never.

Keitaro is big enough to sit up on your lap during a party between your crew, the Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates when the three of you run into each other. Members of your (now permanently) allied crews coo and fawn over your son, the youngest of all the crews, and he adores the attention he receives from all these new people. Once everyone goes back to drinking and playing games, you choose to stay to the side with Keitaro, keeping him from the alcohol and making sure he stays happy while everything goes on, and he does, looking around at everyone and giggling when he sees Luffy do something funny.

Keitaro is happy and calm until he realizes he doesn’t see Zoro anywhere, making your nearly year old son start to pout and fuss. You try your hardest to calm him down when he really starts to cry and kick his legs because he’s frustrated, quietly speaking to him and placing kisses on his little head to help.

“Hey, little guy,” you feel beyond relived when Zoro comes over, resting his arms on your thighs and getting nose to nose with your son, which starts to calm him down, “What’re you crying for?”

Keitaro slowly calms down, looking at Zoro cross-eyed at first before his eyes fully focus on him, starting to smile and coo again as he puts his tiny hands on Zoro’s face. It makes Zoro smile in return as he takes your son from you, intending to give you a small break.

“Let’s give mama a few minutes to enjoy the party too, yeah?” Zoro gently tosses your son in the air a few times, Keitaro letting out squeals and giggles in response.

You slip away to the girls for a while, Ikkaku giving you a smile and telling you how lucky you are with Zoro, causing you to look back at them with your own smile. Keitaro has his thumb in his mouth as he lays against Zoro’s chest where he can see you, content and slowly falling asleep, while your husband rubs his back to help him relax.

“He’s really the best dad to Keitaro, I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

#one piece x reader #reader insert #zoro x reader #op men as dads #fem!reader #roronoa zoro x reader #good dad zoro

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vampzity · 10 hours

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a distant memory | ateez

"i know you’re somewhere out there, somewhere far away." — talking to the moon, bruno mars

—✫ pairing: ateez x gn! reader

—✫ genre: angst, fluff??, ateez, one shot, ot8

—✫ synopsis: it’s been a year since the gang went their separate ways, however you can’t help but reminisce all the good times you shared. you constantly hope that one day, it’ll go back to normal again.

—✫ wc: 1.6k

[warnings]: mentions of scars, mentions of violence???, arguing, blood, accusations, yelling, cursing, name calling

—✫ a/n: i’m sorry in advance.. i seen these photos from the special and just felt a whole wave of nostalgia wash over me 🧎‍♀️

“.. and then we can all look through the photos again!”

You sighed heavily, going through the loads of videos and pictutes taken by the cam recorder. Every happy memory playing like a small scene from a movie in your head. No matter what you did, no matter how many times you watched these same videos, it never seemed to fill the empty void they once occupied in your heart.

It’s been a year since the incident, a hell of a year at that, and yet you still can’t seem to figure out where it all went wrong. Why such a tragic moment, broke the bond between you all.

“Y/n-ah! You walk so slow, let’s go!”

You smiled softly hearing Wooyoung teasing you. Even if it bugged you, you hated to admit that you missed someone bothering you every five minutes.

Seonghwa soon came into view, holding his own cam recorder toward yours. His soft laugh echoed through your ears as he made fun of you for recording him, even though he was doing it too. Jongho soon shoved Seonghwa out of the way, bringing his face up close to the camera as he sang to it jokingly.

“Does Jongho ever stop singing?!” Mingi teased.

It’s as if they’ve never left your heart. You looked onto your phone, seeing the groupchat still pinned on your messages. It was now a ghost town if a groupchat could even have one, and each member quietly made their way out of it. You however, chose to stay. So many memories, core memories, resided in that chat. From happy birthdays, to silly pictures that were sent amongst you all, to even the smallest moments of reassurance between members. You couldn’t just let all of that go, and you couldn’t let it go back then either.

However it pained you to see how easily the rest of them let it be. Were they even feeling the way that you were? How could they just up and leave after years of memories that were engraved into your heads.

The moonlight shone through your window. It was fuller today, just as it was that same time ago. You looked up at the moon, a few tears escaping your eyes.

Were they too, looking up at the same moon?

You felt crazy for thinking that any one of the boys missed not just you, but all of them as much as you did. You knew that somewhere out there, the boys were going on with their lives normally, having to carry the weight of that night with them just as you did.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it your fault? If you hadn’t stood against San like that, would you all have worked it out in the end? However, it wasn’t your fault. All you wanted was to stop the arguing, only for it to resort to violence.

You played with the cam recorder, holding it to your face as you sobbed. As much as you wanted to forget about that day, you knew you never could be able to. So many things reminded you of them, which then reminded you of that day. Scars you obtained from your fight with San still remained, even after they healed. Not even your body could forget.

“y/n-ah!”

You lifted your head, seeing the video turn to San as he waved to you. A smile stretched across his face as he grabbed the camera from you, turning it to face the both of you. You pouted at him as he kept it at a high angle, unable to take it from his hands.

“Sannie, give me that back!”

You jumped up to reach it, as all the other members sat around laughing with San. You stopped jumping and punched his arm softly, the boys chuckling around you.

“Ah, you guys suck!”

You sighed heavily, laying down on your bed as you closed your eyes. It’s as if every time you closed your eyes, that very night replayed in your head. No matter what you did to avoid thinking of it, you couldn’t get it to stop. No amount of therapy was helping for that.

“San stop!!”

Seonghwa pulled San away as you all stood there in shock. Mingi laid on the floor, hands still protecting his face. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, only because it’s never gotten to a point like this. There was never a thought that crossed your mind over the boys arguing so bad, that they’d get physical.

Yunho helped Mingi up, his face bruised and nose dripping blood from the attack. Tears escaped Yunho’s eyes as he realized how bad the situation was getting. However it wasn’t just him, you were all unsure of how to help.

It’s been ongoing for weeks, where random members would break out into arguments and it would sometimes get physical. The more arguments that ensued, the more distant everyone became.

“This is getting out of hand! What happened to all of you?!”

You looked at all the members in horror, tears streaming down your face as they looked away from you. Hongjoong walked up to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he tried to offer you some comfort.

“All you ever do is fight with one another, and when things get too far, you guys just resort to violence!”

Wooyoung stood up, an annoyed look on his face as he looked toward the members. Bandages covered his hands and cheeks, reminding you of the fight between him and Jongho just last week.

“She’s right. We all can’t keep going on like this.”

San scoffed, crossing his arms in disbelief as he stood on the opposite side of the room. He rolled his eyes, soon walking up to you and Hongjoong.

“So what? You never seen a group fall apart before?”

His voice rushed through you like cold water, giving you chills as you felt mini to him. No matter how afraid you were getting of the boys and their acts of violence, you refused to let it overtake you. Let alone, be obvious that you were growing afraid of them.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, your eyes straying from him.

He crossed his arms, leaning his face down to you. You felt his breath hit your cheek, making the hairs on your skin stand up.

“Suck it up. You weren’t even apart of our group in the first place.”

The room went quiet. Whenever arguments broke out, you were always the one maintaining peace between the members. Who would’ve known that was only a matter of time before you too have had enough.

“Are you just going to keep being hardheaded?!” you yelled out, pushing him harshly.

“Don’t push me, y/n.” San snarled, his voice low and raspy.

Wooyoung looked over at San, eyebrows furrowed as he wondered what was going to happen. None of the members expected this, especially not from you. When it came to you, everyone had their guard up as they weren’t going to let you be the one who got hurt from them.

“How many times do I need to get this into your head?!” You continued to pushed at San, punching his chest as you cried out.

“All of you! You’re all idiots! Can’t we just stop fighting?!”

San took every hit you gave him, growing increasingly aggravated with you. Tears steamed down your face as you continued to punch at him, wishing for the boys who once promised to never let arguing get as bad as it was now.

“God, quit it!” San pushed you harshly, making you stumble to the ground and hit your head.

He got ontop of you, holding your arms over your head as you struggled out of his grasp. His nails dug into your skin as he glared at you with a rabid look. Hongjoong grabbed onto his back, desperately trying to pull him off of you as he yelled into your face. Wooyoung grabbed onto his arm, using all his weight to pull.

“You’re the reason our group went to shit, you know that?! If you haven’t came in here being all pissy and flirting with all the members— slap!“

With the help of Jongho, he pulled your hand out of San’s grip, allowing you to slap him across the face. Everyone around you froze for a second, seeing your face red from anger and embarrassment after San’s words. San rubbed his cheek, eyes narrowed at you. He grabbed onto your hair, pulling you toward him.

“San! Let them go!! Stop!!”

Yunho rushed over to you, pushing San off of you as the other members pulled him off. It was a bit scary how much stronger San could be when he was angry. Wooyoung and Jongho pulled San off of you as he tried hard to fight back. Yunho held you in his arms, sitting in shock at how San just reacted to you.

“You fucking tramp! This is all your fault!”

Everyone froze, unsure of what to say, as did you. San has lost his mind, everyone did in their own way, though it seemed the group was far from saving at this point. There wasn’t much any of you could do.

You watched as San grabbed his things, making his way out of your home and slamming the door behind him. Silence filled the room, as you all remained speechless. Yunho continued to hold you as small tears ran down your face. What did this mean for you guys now? Was the really just the end of the people you called home?

The people your cherished and loved dearly, were no longer with you, instead living on their own terms. A year later, and you still remained without your home.

a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR THIS PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. listening to Empty Box while writing the ending of this made it even worse 💔 i love that song so much.

taglist: @skzline @rvereri @evidive @xoxkii @vrtualsins

@sanslovesblog @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @honeyhwaaa @sundaybossanova

@kittykat-25 @losrpark @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @aestheticjoonie @interweab

@roomsofangel @mingtinysworld @minghaoslatina @vnessalau

#—♡vampzity #—♡︎vamp’s soft hours #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez atiny #atiny #ateez angst #ateez oneshot

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lucysarah-c · 1 day

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Question: for Virgin! Canon Levi; how do you think that would go down? Like full blown sex one night? Taking it slow over time? Just how do you think reader would need to navigate it with him? Slow burn / build up, a passionate night, tipsy reader?

This is assuming Levi and Reader’s emotions are confirmed for each other

Hiiiii~~ How are you? What have you been up to lately?

Haha, honestly, I'm not entirely sure what caused this full blow-up of questions, but I'm kinda loving it.

Mhh, I think my answer depends a lot on two factors: "Levi's age" and "the experience of the reader." I know you said Canon Levi, but I wonder if you mean canon season 1-4 Levi, Underground Levi, pre-promotion Levi, etc. haha

I'll conclude that you meant "canon season 1-3" Levi. While I personally don't headcanon Captain Levi as a virgin during the "overall" period of AoT (I mean, since season 1, not ACWNR or Underground Levi), I think his reaction depends a lot on how much experience the reader has. Levi strikes me as one of those friends/partners who loves you, cares about you, etc., but hardly ever talks about themselves. In my humble opinion, even if Levi has feelings for you and you two decide to pursue a relationship together, it may take him a lot of time to open up about his past. I mean, this man gets along with Hange amazingly in the story; Isayama says that Hange is who "understands" or "gets along better with Levi," and yet Hange didn't know about Kenny.

So this may be a wild take… but I think Levi wouldn't tell you it's his first time, lmao. He may try to play it cool; you might notice he's not the most "skilled" dude out there ('cause let me tell you, no amount of Ackerman powers makes you seem experienced, lol), but he's not telling you it's his first time. Which, you know, everybody is entitled to their past. Perhaps if the reader is also a virgin and she opens up emotionally like, "It's my first time," Levi would feel she's opening up to him, and he would feel it's a good time to be honest too and be like, "Well… it's mine too, so I guess we will figure it out as we go."

About "how" it would be, I think the reader would have to set the tempo. Most men are READY to blow off some steam if you give them a chance, haha, so if the reader is also a virgin and they kinda want to test the waters before going all the way, Levi would be down for it, especially because it will give him time to catch a trick or two, learn what she likes.

I think that porn or movies make us believe how "sex" usually happens, and I mean, talking from my experience and my friends' experiences… none of us went from 0 to 10. Like, we kiss, we make out, then maybe we got a little handy, then riding on top of clothes, oral sex, fingers, etc. Especially because maybe you don't have your own place to crash at, maybe you two would like to talk it out before it happens. Buy condoms, get ready, etc.

Now, if you are curious how I think Underground Levi would decide to lose his V-card while younger… probably rather quick, steamy, and not giving it much thought, haha. He'd let the hormones talk and make decisions for him. In both occasions, I don't think he made the girl cum before him, which is something that happens a lot; we women are harder to please, it requires more technique than men who… well, let's say that they come rather easily, lol. BUT he will 100% offer to make her cum anyway, with fingers or mouth. Levi will be such a fast learner, give him a chance or two, and he will pick it up like a champ.

Though why can't I shake the idea of a younger Levi in the underground in his 18s, having something with a girl slightly older than him, perhaps 20, etc. And her saying between chuckles, "Slow down, boy."

God, I would pay to see his blushed, embarrassed face.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme @galactict3a Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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helaintoloki · 2 days

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Relenting

pairing: sparrow!ben x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of death, sparrow!ben is an asshole as usual, some fluff if you squint

notes: haven’t posted on this blog in forever but the new teaser brought me back from the dead so here’s this

summary: the world is ending and ben thinks it’s time to enjoy what’s left of it

You swirl the glass of champagne in your hand and watch as the alcohol begins to whirl around the cup. There’s a slight breeze in the air, but it’s warm and strangely comforting despite the current circumstances. The music from inside faintly reaches your ears out on the balcony, and though you feel slightly guilty for missing out on such a momentous occasion for Luther and Sloane, you can’t bring yourself to go back inside. What’s the point? Your time on this earth is limited, dwindling with each second that passes, so why bother trying to act like it isn’t.

An unwelcome presence joins your sulking figure outside, and you don’t even bother to spare him a passing glance. You think you hate him, or at least you want to hate him, but it’s hard to despise the man who shares the face of your long lost love. Blame it on nostalgia or pathetic longing, but there’s still some small part of you that believes he could be just like the boy you knew and loved in your youth, even if he hasn’t shown it at all in the time you’ve gotten to know him.

Finally acknowledging his presence, you take a swig of your champagne before retorting, “Don’t you have to go be an asshole somewhere else?”

“You’re hilarious,” he replies in a deadpan tone, and you don’t have to look at him to see that he’s rolling his eyes in annoyance. You like how easily you get under his skin, and his sarcastic remark prompts the smallest quirk of your lips.

“Yeah?” You reiterate with a small shrug, eager to push his buttons in any way you can. “My Ben used to think so too.”

“Would you shut up about ‘your’ Ben, already? It’s pathetic,” He snaps in irritation, obviously set off by your remarks. “All you do is whine and complain about what a jerk I am instead of realizing I could help you out if you’d just help me.”

“By pretending to be your dead girlfriend? No thanks,” you scoff with a wry laugh before downing the rest of your drink. It burns your throat, but the discomfort is almost soothing in a way. It’s a type of pain you can control and inflict upon yourself out of your own volition. You haven’t been in control of anything since becoming wrapped up in all this apocalypse time travel nonsense, and you grapple for any semblance of it whenever possible.

“It’s not pretending if you technically are her,” the Sparrow insists adamantly, faltering for a moment as he adds under his breath, “albeit a more whiney and uptight version of her.”

He immediately ducks when you chuck your glass in his direction, narrowly missing his head in the process. You wish you had Diego’s precision so you could hit the desired target of his face, but the look of bewilderment on his features is good enough for now. You wordlessly turn to head back inside and rejoin the wedding festivities, because forcing yourself to act like attending wedding at the end of the world is normal is much better than spending another second out here with him, but his firm grip on your wrist halts your movements. If you really wanted to you could break free from his hold, you’re a better fighter than he is and you could easily use your abilities to overpower him, but you make no attempt to do so. The touch is familiar, comforting despite how hard you try to deny it, and you’d like to savor it even if it’s not right.

“The world is ending, and there’s no going back,” he reminds you, the gentleness of his voice almost scaring you. It’s a jarring contrast from the usual sharpness that he speaks to you with, and you’re not sure if it disgusts or comforts you. He sounds like your Ben now, and the realization prompts your breath to hitch in your throat.

“What do you want from me?” You demand with a lack of conviction, your previous confidence dwindling as you morph back into that same scared little girl who once thought she could never survive without the boy she loved.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left on this shit hole with my y/n, even though I know it’s not really her,” the Sparrow relents in defeat as he comes to terms with his fate. “Don’t you want to spend one last night with Ben?”

You remain silent, your lips held together in a firm line and your brows creased in thought as you digest his words. This man is not yours, not even close, but he belonged to another version of you in this timeline, a version that is currently buried six feet underground. This entire time you’ve done your best to fight the urge to give in to him, to let yourself play pretend with the Sparrow and act as if tragedy had never struck the Umbrella Academy. With the world coming to an end, did it really matter now if you finally relented to his pleas? Didn’t you deserve to be happy, too?

Taking your silence as rejection, Ben slowly begins to release his hold on you. However, he’s taken by surprise when you immediately throw yourself into his embrace and pull his face towards you for a kiss. He doesn’t notice the tears that streak down your cheeks or the way your hands tremble as you cup his face; he’s too busy savoring the taste of something that had been taken from his years ago.

As he wraps his arms tighter around your waist, he determines that this time around, he’s not letting go.

#oh my god i haven’t written anything tua related in years #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #sparrow!ben x reader #sparrow!ben imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #sparrow academy

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xxspringmelodyxx · 3 days

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The legend~

Childe x reader (angst)

Part 2/?? For part I, here

A/n: here it is! Part two of The Legend! Please enjoy my lovelies and thank you all again for the support🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

It had been a few, but long, good years… well, for you at least. You had already mastered five out of the seven elements, with only Electro and Hydro left to finally obtain the final element. The journey had been the most fun you’d had in years, and it made you stronger both mentally and physically. There was still much to work on, but with the progress you were making, you felt confident that you’d be ready to fight the darkness in no time.

“No, not like that. You must be graceful as you move. The stiffer you are when trying to move the water, the harder it will be. Remember, work with the water, not against it. Now, do it again, this time with more fluidity,” Eleanor instructed.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you stood in the deep waters. The sensation of nothingness surrounded you, making you feel like you were flying. Slowly, you lifted your hands and placed them together. You relaxed your body, allowing the water to fully envelop you, listening to the deep, bassy sounds of the liquid.

You began to drag your left leg in a half-circle around you, lifting your knee, your hands following the same motion. The water started to vibrate around you, mirroring your movements. You then pushed your hands down softly, as did your leg, and suddenly, a huge part of the water was pushed down all the way to the ground. For about three seconds, the waters were separated. You looked down and smiled widely as you saw your favorite ring.

Why was it down there, you might ask? Well, the answer is simple… Eleanor threw it down there to help you with your training. You had not been improving much in mastering the art of the Hydro element, so she decided to push you a bit by sacrificing something meaningful to you.

Seeing the ring, you reached to grab it… but lost control due to your focus on the ring. The waters caved in, trapping you underneath. You were too deep underwater to swim out alive. Panic struck as you tried to figure out what to do… but the more you thought, the more precious air you lost!

Desperation set in, and you tried to calm yourself, but it was just too hard… especially knowing there was a chance you could die! You placed your hands together and pushed upwards, hoping the water would lift you to the surface… but nothing happened.

Time was running out and you couldn’t do anything, but keep trying. You kept doing different motions forcefully, your emotions getting the better of you.

Slowly, your vision started to fade, and that's when something unusual appeared. Glancing to your right, you saw a small tornado forming from the ground. Your eyes widened in surprise. The mini tornado grew larger with each passing second, moving directly toward you.

It enveloped you, lifting you back to the surface. You gasped for air, coughing as you tried to fill your lungs. Before you, a pair of feet stood firm, making you look up.

“You must learn to focus,” Eleanor said sternly.

“I-I was! Or… at least I was trying to,” you stammered.

“If you were truly focused, the water wouldn’t have almost drowned you. You were too fixated on the ring and lost your connection with the water. Imagine fighting someone who holds someone you love hostage. You’re doing well, but then you spot the hostage and become distracted. Blam! The opponent strikes, catching you off guard. It could be a fatal blow,” she said, helping you to your feet.

“I’m sorry… but that ring is special—” you began.

“If it’s special, then you must do everything to protect it. To do that, you need to eliminate the threats. Steady your mind, and you'll find it easier to control your surroundings. Had you not been distracted by the ring, you could have easily retrieved it while keeping the waters separate.”

“So… what should I do? I can’t just ignore something important to me. What if someone I care about is in danger? How can I not think about them?” you asked, frustration evident in your voice.

“This is a difficult lesson, but you must learn to set aside those feelings in the moment. Block out distractions and focus solely on your primary objective. That way, your chances of success are much higher. Once you succeed, you can then devote your attention to the person you care about,” she explained.

You nodded, taking in her advice.

“How about we take a break? I need to buy more herbs for tea. We’re running low. I should be gone for about two hours. Please, don’t cause any trouble, alright?” she said, making you smile.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. E! I won’t even make a sound,” you replied, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Good. I better get going now. The sun will set in a few hours, and I want to return before then. I’ll be back!” she said, heading toward the city.

As she disappeared from view, you sat by the water’s edge, reflecting on her words. The training was more challenging than you had anticipated, but you knew it was necessary. You picked up the ring, holding it tightly, vowing to master your focus and control. The path ahead was still long and arduous, but you were determined to overcome every obstacle and harness the power of all seven elements.

*****

About an hour passed by, and still, there was no sign of Eleanor. I sighed, feeling the weight of boredom pressing down on me. My feet dangled in the cool, refreshing water as I sat perched atop a rock, my mind wandering aimlessly in search of something to do. The stillness of the surroundings only heightened my restlessness, and I found myself wishing for some kind of distraction.

As time crept by, a spark of inspiration ignited in my mind. Perhaps I could try to retrieve the ring while Eleanor was gone! Surely, she would be impressed by my initiative and progress. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, aside from the fact that I almost drowned the last time I attempted it. Pushing that thought aside, I exhaled deeply to calm my racing thoughts. If I wanted to master the elements, I needed to keep practicing.

With newfound determination, I placed my hands together in front of my chest, then gracefully pulled them apart, swaying them to the side and up toward the sky. Suddenly, a small ball of water plopped out of the sea, shimmering in the sunlight. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight—it was adorable!

“I think I’ll call you… Blob!” I said, giggling at my own whimsy.

Keeping my left palm facing the blob of water suspended in the air, I began making spiral motions with my right hand. Gradually, strands of water rose up and started to spiral around the blob, forming intricate patterns like double helixes encircling a small nucleus. It was mesmerizing to watch.

As I maintained the motion, the strands of water grew longer and thicker, causing the water level in that specific area to lower. After about thirty seconds, I finally reached the bottom, where the sunlight glinted off my ring, making it sparkle. Excitement bubbled up inside me as I saw it. I hopped off the rock and waded through the water to retrieve my prized possession.

“Remember to focus on your main target…” Eleanor’s voice echoed in my mind, reminding me of her wisdom.

I took her advice to heart, concentrating on the water around me to ensure I maintained control. Slowly, I picked up the ring, careful not to lose focus. With the ring securely in my hand, a sense of triumph washed over me. I had accomplished my goal.

“Haha! I did it! Take that water!” I announced proudly.

However, my celebration was cut short as the water began to tumble around me. I glanced up in alarm and quickly raised my hand, focusing intently on the impending wave.

“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me…”

Closing my eyes, I forced myself to relax and reconnect with the water’s essence. I placed my hands up above me, shielding me from the incoming water. Inhaling and exhaling steadily, I felt the water touch my hand but not engulf my body.

Opening my eyes, I was met with the sight of a massive body of water hovering above me, emitting deep, resonant sounds. The sheer size and power of it made me shiver, but I couldn’t help but smile. I had managed to control the water and prevent it from harming me. Slowly but surely, I was becoming one with the element, inching closer to mastering it.

I slipped my ring on, feeling its familiar weight, and placed my hand down, spiraling it once more. The water responded, circling around me and lifting me gently to the surface. I cheered as I made it to land, elated by my success.

I ran back to our old little cottage, catching my reflection in the mirror. I noticed that I looked more fit than I used to, my muscles more defined. A few scars adorned my arms and stomach, reminders of my journey. I smiled as I recalled my transformation and how challenging it had been to master even a single element.

**Flashback**

"Come on. You cannot give up so quickly!" Eleanor urged, her voice firm but encouraging.

"But it’s been five weeks since we started, and I’m getting nowhere!" I complained, frustration evident in my voice.

"Patience is key, my dear. You must remember that you cannot force the element to obey until you learn to become—"

"Become one with it, yeah, I know. You've only said that like a hundred times," I interrupted, my tone tinged with impatience.

"Again," she insisted, pointing to my hand where a small pebble rested. "We are not going to stop until you at least move that pebble from one hand to the other without physically touching it."

After a few seconds of futile effort, I became frustrated and dropped the rock. "Okay, I’m done. Obviously, I’m not supposed to master this, which means I’m definitely not going to master the other six. I am not going to be the next host of this light element, so it’s better to just stop now before we waste more time."

"Y/N—"

"No, maybe you made a mistake in choosing me. You should find someone who can actually handle this. Maybe someone who has already mastered one of the elements. I can’t do this," I said, turning to walk away. However, a huge pile of rocks formed in front of me, creating an impassable wall.

I clenched my fists, my frustration mounting at her persistence. Eleanor appeared in front of me, her expression calm yet resolute.

"At least allow me to speak before you leave," she said, making me sigh in resignation.

"Fine. But you won’t be able to say anything that will help me."

"Fine, but let me try," she insisted. I nodded reluctantly, and we both sat down to talk.

"When I was your age, I too struggled. I almost gave up because I thought there was no way I could achieve something as monumental as mastering an element," she began, her eyes distant as she recalled her past. "I was impatient and frustrated, just like you. But then, I realized that every great achievement starts with small steps. The process requires patience, dedication, and most importantly, belief in oneself."

Her words struck a chord with me, and I felt a glimmer of hope reignite within. "How did you keep going?" I asked softly.

“Atlas.” She spoke with a smile.

”He never gave up on me,” Eleanor continued, her voice tinged with nostalgia. “Every day, he would greet me with a smile, ready to impart new lessons. Months passed, and I still wasn’t making much progress… until one fateful day.”

“There was a deadly battle between us and another group, specifically one person. A boy chosen as the host for the dark element,” she said.

Your eyes widened as you listened intently.

“His name was Micah. He was a truly terrifying being—large, muscular, covered in scars, and bloodstains all over his clothes. He was ruthless.”

Eleanor paused, her expression darkening as she recalled the memory. “On that day, Atlas and Micah were locked in combat. Atlas was fighting to protect me, but he was struggling because the darkness had grown more powerful. I remember seeing Atlas get stabbed in the stomach with a sword, and I screamed in pure terror.”

“Did he die?” you asked, unable to hide your concern.

“No, but he couldn’t move due to the severe blood loss. Micah placed his hand over Atlas’ mouth, and I saw purple lines spreading all over both of their bodies.”

“Why? What did he do to Atlas?” you pressed, leaning forward.

“He was draining Atlas’ power, trying to extinguish the light… but I couldn’t just stand there and watch him die. I had to help. And suddenly, I felt an immense surge of power from within.”

**Eleanor’s Flashback**( A flashback within a flashback. Flashbackception)

“Master Atlas!” Eleanor screamed, her voice filled with desperation.

“Run, Eleanor! Save yourself!” Atlas shouted, struggling to free himself.

Overwhelmed by fear, Eleanor began to run, tears streaming down her face. But she stopped in her tracks when she heard Atlas scream in agony. Turning back, she saw him from afar.

“Atlas!” she yelled, sprinting back toward him.

Micah turned and shot a beam of dark energy at her, striking her in the back. She groaned in pain, her vision swimming with spots.

“Now, you will die… and I will take over the world,” Micah declared.

Atlas let out a bloodcurdling scream, and Eleanor, driven by sheer will, forced herself to stand. She focused intently on Micah, her breathing steadying. Ignoring the chaos around her, she raised her hands and brought them together. Slowly, flames began to surround her body, lifting her into the air.

Both Atlas and Micah stared in shock. Micah released Atlas, who collapsed, coughing up black residue and struggling to breathe.

“You never know when to give up, do you?” Micah sneered.

Eleanor remained silent, channeling her energy inward. “I will not allow you to hurt Master Atlas! If I have to sacrifice myself, I will!” she proclaimed, thrusting her hands forward.

A massive fireball shot toward Micah, hitting him squarely. She continued her fiery assault, each blast pushing him back. Seizing the moment, Atlas rose behind Micah and launched shards of light at him, eliciting a screech of pain. Working together seamlessly, Eleanor and Atlas overwhelmed Micah, who eventually realized he was no match for them. He fled the scene, leaving them alone.

Eleanor rushed to Atlas’ side, helping him to his feet.

“You did well, my child. I knew you could do it,” he said, his voice weak but filled with pride.

“Thank you for always believing in me… but enough of that. We need to get you help. Let’s go,” Eleanor replied, determined to save her mentor.

***End of her flashback***

Eleanor’s eyes met yours, a soft smile on her lips. “It was that day I realized the true extent of my power and the importance of never giving up. You have that same potential, Y/N. Remember, every great journey begins with a single step. Stay determined, and you will master the elements, one by one.” She started

“That moment was pivotal—I knew I was destined to become the next host for the light element. From then on, I trained harder and grew stronger. Within five years, I became the new host. But you, you have the potential to achieve this in even less time if you learn to clear your mind."

"Clear my mind?" you asked, intrigued.

Eleanor nodded and brought her hands together, forming a sphere of water between them. As she slowly separated her hands, the water expanded and swirled in various directions.

"Look at this water as a representation of your mind. Right now, it is agitated, frustrated, angry, and sad. You can't see through it clearly, can you?" she asked.

"Yeah. So?"

"Well, if you allow it to settle and calm down…” She said, causing the water to still, “Soon, you'll be able to see through it clearly," she explained.

"This is your mind. When you become angry or frustrated, you'll find it difficult to accomplish many things. But if you calm down, relax, and focus on your main goal, you'll see that it becomes much easier to achieve."

Eleanor placed a small pebble in your hand. "You haven't been able to move the pebble because you're too focused on your frustration at not being able to move it. If you forget about that frustration and instead focus solely on moving the pebble, you'll have a better chance of succeeding. So, let's try it one more time. This time, think about nothing but the pebble. Learn from your past mistakes and use that knowledge to help you now."

You sighed, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. Fixing your gaze on the pebble, you focused your mind entirely on it.

"Remember, do not worry about your surroundings, and do not let your anger or frustrations get to you. Put your mind at ease. Be determined to move the rock," Eleanor advised.

You relaxed, clearing your mind of all distractions. Slowly, you felt the pebble begin to shift, and you gasped in surprise. As you moved your head up, the pebble followed your movements, floating in the air.

"I did it!" you shouted, letting the pebble fall in excitement.

Eleanor smiled warmly. "I told you, once you calm your mind and have determination, it's much easier to do things you once thought impossible."

You couldn't believe it—you had finally done it. Suddenly, my smile turned into a frown as I looked up at her.

“Do you really think I can do it? Do you really think I am destined to be the holder of the light element?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," she replied confidently. "And I will be here to guide you every step of the way. But you have to promise me one thing: never give up on yourself."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination. "I promise."

**End of Your Flashback**

The memory of that moment filled you with renewed confidence. Now look at me. I’ve mastered five, almost six, of the seven elements. It’s something that has been unheard of… but not anymore. I am the new standard, the new example. I will prove those who doubted me wrong. My achievements aren’t just for me but for everyone who ever believed in me, and those who didn’t. They will all see what I am capable of.

Suddenly, my thoughts drifted to Ajax, and a frown crept onto my face. I wondered how he was doing these days, how he and Lumine were faring together. Despite everything, a part of me still longed to be with him, even after the awful things he said. Maybe it was because I missed him—the old him. The boy who brought joy with his smile, who lulled me to sleep with his warm voice, who made me feel like a princess. All of that was gone now… because of another girl. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I knew I had to move on.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away. “Stop thinking about him, Y/N. It’s over,” I muttered to myself, hoping that speaking the words aloud would make them more real.

Barely a moment later, I heard a cry for help—a little girl’s voice piercing through the quiet. My eyes widened as I rushed outside to see what was happening. I followed the noise, my heart pounding in my chest, and saw a tiny girl… flying? She was hiding behind a boy who looked to be my height, if not a bit taller, with blond hair tied in a braid at the end. I’d never seen him before, but then again, I’d been gone for three long years, and much could have changed in that time.

Ahead of them were two figures. A girl with a red blindfold, brown hair tied in high pigtails, and wielding small hand blades stood poised for a fight. Beside her was a man with short blond hair, blue eyes, and a black mask. My eyes widened as more figures appeared behind them—at least fifteen in total. They looked menacing and ready for battle.

The boy with the little girl, who was still crying for help, held a sword and was trying to fend them off. He looked determined but outnumbered and overwhelmed.

Should I help him? It might make things easier for them… Eh, why not. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, and it seemed like the right thing to do.

I quickly circled around the group, ensuring I stayed out of sight. Positioning myself behind the enemies, I raised my hands, ready to intervene.

-Aether’s POV-

Paimon and I were sprinting, a horde of people hot on our heels, intent on delivering us to their “leader” for some twisted reward. We found ourselves in an unfamiliar locale, a breathtaking vista of azure seas stretching out before us. It was a scene straight out of a vacation brochure, but there was no time to admire the view. I had to focus on evading our pursuers.

As Paimon’s cries for help echoed, I made a split-second decision to halt our flight. There was no way help could reach us in this remote spot. Turning to face our aggressors, I drew my sword, bracing myself for the confrontation.

Just as our adversaries closed in, a sudden gust of wind erupted, sending them sprawling in all directions. Shocked expressions mirrored my own confusion. Was it Venti’s doing? But no, there was no sign of him. A second onslaught, this time a combination of wind and fire, sent the attackers reeling.

“Are you doing that?” Paimon’s query hung in the air, but neither of us claimed responsibility for the elemental barrage.

Caught off guard, I found myself momentarily distracted, my attention diverted elsewhere. In that fleeting moment, a menacing figure charged toward me, sword raised high, poised for a deadly strike. But before his blade could find its mark, a verdant tendril burst forth from the earth, coiling around his leg with formidable strength, hoisting him into the air.

My gaze shifted ahead, drawn to the source of this unexpected intervention. Standing before me was a young woman, her presence commanding and her demeanor resolute. My eyes widened as she addressed our assailant, her words carrying an air of authority that brooked no defiance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her presence commanding attention. Was she friend or foe? Her actions seemed to be in our favor, but appearances could be deceiving.

"Who are you?" The man bellowed, his voice laced with both pain and defiance.

"That's none of your business," she retorted, her tone unwavering as she clenched her fist.

The man's laughter mingled with his anguish. "Is that all you can do, pretty girl? You’re just gonna use your green little plants to stop us? There’s no chance, bunny!" he taunted, but the girl remained unperturbed, a smirk playing at her lips.

"Oh, I can test the fires if you’d like," she countered, her hand igniting with a brilliant orange and red glow. With a swift motion, she slammed her palm onto the ground, unleashing a ring of fire that engulfed her and the man in a fiery barrier.

My eyes widened in astonishment at the display before me. "She has…two visions!?" Paimon gasped in disbelief.

"I don’t think she has just two…" I murmured, realization dawning upon me. Three elements wielded with finesse and power, yet only one young woman stood before us, a testament to her extraordinary abilities.

The man’s pleas dissolved into the charged atmosphere as the girl advanced, her presence commanding respect. “You insult me, I demonstrate my capabilities… and now you recoil in fear?” she remarked, her tone tinged with authority, causing the man to falter.

With a firm grip, she grasped his face, his whimper echoing in the stillness. “I will grant you clemency this time… but further transgressions will not be met with such leniency,” she warned, her words resonating with consequence as the man nodded solemnly. “Y-Yes, ma’am! We will depart! I give you my word!” he pledged, his fear palpable.

However, danger lurked in the shadows, as a sword dancer crept toward her, poised to strike. Without hesitation, I sprang into action, intercepting the blow meant for her.

“Thank you," she whispered softly, her gratitude conveyed with sincerity.

Before I could fully process her words, another assailant lunged towards me, but the girl swiftly intervened, conjuring a fiery sword to intercept the attack.

"I suppose you're all itching for a fight, aren't you?" she remarked coolly, her gaze steady as she addressed our adversaries.

"Very well... hey," she called out to me, her tone steady and determined. I met her gaze, observing the faint smile that graced her lips.

"Are you ready?" she inquired, her voice carrying a quiet resolve. I nodded in response.

"Always," I affirmed, my commitment unwavering.

With a soft hum of acknowledgment, she lifted her sword, swiftly disarming our assailant with a precise strike. Following her lead, I mirrored her actions, swiftly rendering another opponent weaponless.

Together, we fought with valor and unity, our movements synchronized as we defended ourselves against our adversaries.

As I glanced over at her, I witnessed her engaging four opponents with a grace and skill that left me in awe. With a swift and precise motion, she hurled her sword at one of them, piercing their stomach and incapacitating them instantly. Without missing a beat, she retrieved her weapon and swiftly dispatched another assailant with a forceful strike to the chest, eliciting a cry of pain.

Meanwhile, the remaining two assailants closed in on her before she could retrieve her sword, prompting her to unleash a torrent of flames from her hands. In a dazzling display of power and control, she summoned forth blazing infernos that engulfed her attackers, leaving them writhing in agony.

I stood transfixed, marveling at her prowess as she effortlessly held her own against multiple adversaries. However, my momentary distraction proved costly as I failed to notice the incoming threat before it was too late. With a sharp impact to my stomach, I felt a surge of pain and the warmth of blood seeping from the wound.

-Back with you-

Amidst the chaos of the skirmish, a groan of pain caught my attention, drawing my gaze towards the wounded boy lying on the ground, his stomach grievously injured and blood staining the earth beneath him. My heart clenched at the sight, a surge of urgency propelling me into action as I realized the severity of his condition. He needed help, and he needed it urgently.

But before I could reach him, I was accosted by four assailants, their grasp firm and unyielding as they sought to restrain me. Frustration boiled within me, mingling with a fierce determination to break free and aid the wounded boy. Ignoring their demands to cease, I pleaded for release, my voice echoing with urgency and desperation.

The boy’s pained expression spoke volumes, his silent plea for assistance driving home the gravity of the situation. With every passing moment, his life hung in the balance, his need for aid growing more dire by the second. In the midst of the tumult, I knew that I couldn’t stand idly by while he suffered.

“I said. Let. GO!” I yelled.

Suddenly, as if conjured by the urgency of the moment, a towering wave surged forth from the depths of the sea, its colossal presence commanding the attention of all who bore witness to its awe-inspiring might. In an instant, the assailants' grip on me faltered, their fear palpable as they realized the magnitude of the force arrayed against them.

Panicked cries filled the air, a chorus of voices clamoring for escape as the relentless tide bore down upon them with unrelenting ferocity. Frantic shouts echoed amidst the chaos, urging retreat and flight as the looming wave threatened to engulf everything in its path.

"We gotta get out of here!"

"Everyone flee! Flee!"

"Let's go! I don't wanna die like this!"

The urgency in their voices was unmistakable, their terror mirroring my own as we stood on the brink of disaster. In the tumult of the moment, there was no time for hesitation or second-guessing—only the instinctual drive for survival and escape.

Amidst the chaos and confusion, the wave crashed upon the shore with a deafening roar, its relentless force driving the assailants to scatter in a desperate bid for safety. With each passing moment, their cries grew fainter, swallowed up by the tumultuous roar of the sea as they fled the scene, leaving behind a trail of chaos and destruction in their wake.

Relief flooded through me as the tumultuous wave subsided, my attention immediately drawn to the boy writhing in pain on the ground. With each wince and gasp, his suffering became palpable, igniting a fierce determination within me to ensure his safety.

Without hesitation, I rushed to his side, my eyes softening with concern as I took in the extent of his injuries. "You're hurt! We have to get you somewhere safe," I insisted, my voice laced with urgency and determination.

"No, I-it's okay. I think... ngh... I can manage," he protested weakly, his words punctuated by the strain of his labored breaths. "Are you kidding me? You are losing way too much blood. Come on. Let me help you and tend to your wound," I countered firmly, wrapping his arm around me with gentle yet firm resolve.

"Paimon will help as well!" the little girl piped up, her voice infused with a sense of determination and solidarity.

With their support bolstering my resolve, I guided the injured boy toward safety, each step a testament to our shared determination to overcome adversity. "Come on, my place is right over there," I reassured him, leading the way with unwavering resolve and determination.

*****

I gently lowered him onto our dining table, wincing at the sound of his groans of pain. "Sorry!" I apologized, feeling a pang of guilt for his suffering.

Hurrying to gather the necessary supplies, I retrieved disinfectant, cloth, and bandages, my heart racing with urgency as I returned to his side. As I approached, I noticed his condition worsening, prompting a surge of determination to alleviate his pain.

"Okay, I'm just going to apply some pressure to stop the bleeding. This might hurt a bit, so grab onto my arm if you need to. Okay?" I explained, meeting his gaze with reassurance as he nodded in understanding. Gently, I placed my hand with the cloth onto his wound, his sharp intake of breath accompanied by a tight grip on my arm, the pressure of his hold sending a twinge of pain through me.

Persisting through his discomfort, I maintained the pressure until the bleeding finally ceased. With cautious precision, I dabbed disinfectant across the cut, his grip on my wrist tightening further, the strain threatening to overwhelm me.

"Ah... you're doing... really good! Just keep breathing. I'm almost done," I offered words of encouragement, my voice strained with effort as I worked to ease his suffering.

With the last few dabs of disinfectant, I sensed his tension beginning to ease. Carefully, I helped him sit up, preparing to wrap his wound with bandages, each movement infused with a sense of relief and gratitude for his resilience in the face of adversity.

"Okay, I'm gonna need you to sit up a bit for me, alright? I need to get this wrapped around you tightly," I instructed, receiving a nod of understanding from him.

"Could you help me a bit, Paimon?" I requested, and she quickly obliged, assisting in maneuvering him into a sitting position.

As I wrapped my arms around his chest and Paimon pushed his back, he groaned in pain, his discomfort weighing heavily on my conscience. "We're almost there. Keep breathing," I urged, offering whatever comfort I could.

After what felt like an eternity of careful wrapping, we finally got him situated against the wall. I began to work on securing the bandage around his waist, ensuring it was snug but not constricting. Gradually, his breathing steadied, and his grip on me loosened.

"Thank you," he breathed out, his gaze meeting mine. I offered a slightly awkward smile in return, nodding in acknowledgment. "No problem. I wouldn't want to just leave you out there," I replied, my voice tinged with sincerity.

Just as I was finishing up, I pulled the last strip of bandage a bit too tightly, eliciting a hiss of pain from him. "Sorry! I guess I did it a bit too tight. Here, let me loos-"

"No, it's okay. I need it to be that tight," he interjected, mustering a small, tired smile. Despite my inclination to adjust it, his reassurance quelled my concerns. "But I can-"

"Trust me, I'll be fine," he assured me, his words carrying a sense of resolve that I couldn't help but admireI looked up at him and nodded, slowly backing away from him.

I held my arm where he had grasped it, noticing it beginning to bruise. The boy observed it too and promptly got off the table.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"No, no, no. It's fine, really. I've been through much worse than this. I'll manage," I reassured him with a chuckle. He took a step back, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Okay... just wanted to make sure you were okay," he said.

"I appreciate that," I replied warmly.

He continued to stare at you, something about your features reminding him of something. It's like he has seen you before…but he's not sure where? Maybe it's just in his head?

A few moments of awkward silence passed by... so you decided to break the ice.

"Uhm… so if you don't mind me asking… what's your name?" you asked the boy.

"Oh… I guess that is something you should know now… especially after helping me," he said, holding his hand out.

"I'm Aether. And you are?"

You took his hand and shook it.

"Y/n. Nice to meet you, Aether. I don't think I've seen you around anywhere before... but... for some reason… you look oddly familiar now that I think of it."

He smiled.

“That’s a nice name. And yeah, I just ‘arrived’ here about two years ago. I’ve been traveling all around the place to find my sister…” he said, his voice trailing off as if lost in memories.

“Ah…I see. And your sister, what is her name?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Her name is-“

“I’m back! Oh y/n, the nice men at the market gave me three brand new things of tea for free! Isn’t that-oh…whose this?” Eleanor burst into the room with her usual energy.

“Oh! Eleanor! This is…a friend of mine.”

“Friend? Y/n…don’t treat me as a fool. I know exactly who this boy is. It’s nice to see you again, Aether.” Eleanor greeted him warmly.

“It’s nice to see you again too, Lady Eleanor.” Aether smiled politely.

“What!? If you knew who he was, why’d you ask?” you inquired, curious about Eleanor's playful charade.

“Just something to do, I guess—Ah!” She cut herself off as she noticed the ring on your finger. Hurriedly, she came closer to inspect it.

“You did it! Without me watching you?! Y/n, you could have been seriously hurt!” Eleanor exclaimed, her initial joy turning to concern.

“Hey, I still did it! That’s all that matters! In fact, I accomplished even more,” you announced proudly.

“What?”

“Well, you see, Aether is only here because there were a bunch of people chasing him and Paimon over there,” you explained, gesturing to the little floating companion beside him.

“Haiii again!” Paimon chirped, earning a smile from Eleanor.

“So, I decided to help and fight with Aether! Needless to say, we kicked their butts!” you said with enthusiasm.

“No, it was more like you kicked their butts. I mean, especially with that huge wave you caused—” Aether interjected.

“Wave? You made a wave?” Eleanor asked, her excitement evident.

“Yeah. It was gigantic! Paimon thought it was bigger than a giant!” Paimon added.

Eleanor looked down at you, pleased. “Well, my dear. This is certainly wonderful news. It sounds like you are one step closer to your goal,” she said, patting your head.

“She also helped bandage me up. I have a lot to owe her,” Aether added, his gaze fixed on you. You smiled, thanking him.

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you both are safe. No need to repay me,” you reassured them.

“Well, I think it’s getting a little late, don’t you kiddos think so? Let’s all head to bed, shall we?” Eleanor suggested, prompting nods from all of you.

Taking Aether's hand, you carefully guided him to your room.

“I know we just met and all, but if Eleanor trusts and likes you, then I think it’s safe to say you are a good guy,” you said with a light laugh.

“So, here,” you continued, pointing at your bed. “You can sleep here tonight. You need a good night's rest, especially after today.”

“But…what about you? Where will you sleep?” Aether asked, concern evident in his voice.

“Oh, we have a pretty decent-sized couch out there. I’ll sleep there tonight—”

“No! You need your rest just as much as I do…maybe even more,” Aether insisted.

“No, Aether, it’s fine! You take my bed,” you insisted in return.

“No, I wouldn’t feel right if you had to go sleep on the couch. I’ll go sleep there—”

“Hold it!” you interrupted, grabbing his wrist.

"I know this might sound a bit unusual, but considering the circumstances, I do have a fairly large bed. How about we both just sleep on it tonight? We’re both adamant that the other should rest here, so why not? We’ll be far enough apart that it won’t even be noticeable," you suggested thoughtfully. Aether's cheeks flushed slightly at the proposition.

“Aether! You’re turning red! Are you feeling unwell? Now I’m certain you need to sleep here tonight—”

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s not that... I mean, I agree with your idea. It’s just two friends sharing a bed,” he stammered awkwardly, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“Let’s not make it any more awkward than it needs to be. Just relax and get comfortable. With a good night’s sleep, we'll be better prepared for whatever tomorrow brings,” you reassured him, easing under the covers.

“Yeah, exactly,” he responded, settling onto his side of the bed. You extinguished the lights, bidding each other goodnight.

“Thanks, y/n... and to you too,” he murmured gratefully, quickly succumbing to sleep, with you following suit not long after.

—With Childe—

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and soon months turned to years, yet Childe couldn't shake the haunting absence of your presence. It had been precisely 3 years, 10 months, and 27 days since you disappeared, and not a day went by without him feeling the weight of your absence. He was consumed by regret, tormented by memories of his own mistreatment towards you.

Each passing day without you felt like an eternity of remorse, as he replayed the moments he took your laughter and smile for granted. Your infectious joy lingered in his mind, a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. He longed to turn back time, to undo the hurt he caused and hold you close once more.

“Something troubling you, Childe?” Pantalone's voice broke through his reverie, pulling him back to the present.

Childe's expression remained distant as he replied, "Just lost in thought."

Pantalone raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in his eyes. "Ah, it seems you're reminiscing about that girl again. What was her name…?"

Before Pantalone could finish his sentence, Childe interjected with a hint of urgency, "Y/n. Her name is y/n."

“Ah, y/n…such a beautiful name…and from what I’ve seen of her…very beautiful. I should’ve shot my shot when I heard you chose someone else over her~”

Childe’s jaw tensed as he resisted the urge to lash out at Pantalone’s taunts. His grip tightened around his weapon, the threat of violence simmering just beneath the surface.

“She would never go for someone as heartless as you,” Childe retorted, his voice strained with barely contained anger.

Pantalone’s laughter only fueled the fire within Childe, but he maintained his composure, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him.

“Me? Heartless? What about you? Surely if I had someone like y/n, I would never treat her how you treated her. Oh how cold and hurtful you were to her. I bet she ran far away from you and has found somebody else to be with~” Pantalone continued, making Childe clench his fists.

“Even I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Pantalone finished

Childe’s restraint snapped. With lightning speed, his sword whizzed past Pantalone’s head, a warning of the consequences if he continued his cruel taunts.

“Keep talking and I’ll cut your head off,” Childe threatened, his tone dripping with venom.

“My, you are getting impacted by this whole situation, aren’t you?”

Pantalone chuckled.

Before the tension could escalate further, another voice intervened, bringing a temporary reprieve from the heated confrontation.

“What’s going on here?” Another masculine voice asked.

“Ah, Dottore! Just in time,” Pantalone chimed in, eager to share the drama unfolding before them. “Childe here is feeling regret for his actions. You know, the one where he completely broke that poor girl, Y/n.”

Dottore’s laughter filled the room, a sinister sound that sent shivers down Childe’s spine. The mockery in his voice only deepened the wounds of Childe’s remorse, twisting the knife of guilt even further.

“You? You’re feeling remorse for something you caused? Hahaha!” He laughed maniacally.

“What about that Lumine girl? Weren’t you and her together-oh wait…” Dottore’s voice trailed off, his malicious grin widening as he relished in Childe’s discomfort.

“She betrayed you didn’t she? After all you did for her. After all you gave up for her? Especially the girl who has been by your side for years? You threw her away like she was plastic…just so you could get the all mighty traveler…”

Childe’s heart plummeted as Dottore’s words cut through him like a knife. The weight of his betrayal bore down on him, each accusation piercing deeper than the last. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, a painful reminder of his own shortcomings.

The memories flooded back, each one more agonizing than the last. He remembered the day he found out about Lumine’s betrayal, the shock and disbelief etched into his every fiber.

In a flashback, Childe recalled the moment vividly.

***Flashback***

He had been on his way back to their shared home, a bouquet of flowers in hand, when he heard the desperate cries for help. Intrigued, he followed the sound until he stumbled upon a scene that would forever haunt him.

There, lying on the ground, was a man in dire need of assistance. But what struck Childe to the core was the figure kneeling beside him—Lumine.

“Lumine?” Childe’s voice wavered with disbelief as he took in the sight before him. The man on the ground pleaded for aid, his eyes filled with fear and desperation.

“Please! Help me!” the man implored, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Lumine!? What the hell are you doing?” Childe’s voice cracked with desperation as he rushed to intervene, only to be met with a forceful kick that sent him sprawling to the ground. Pain seared through him as he looked up at her, his eyes wide with shock.

”Stay away. I need to-have to do this. It is the only way~” She spoke, walking towards him.

With each step she took, Lumine’s aura grew more menacing, her intentions shrouded in darkness. Childe’s heart clenched as he pleaded for answers, but his words fell on deaf ears.

”And I will not allow someone like you to get in my way.”

Childe's heart sank as Lumine's chilling words echoed in his ears, the finality of her betrayal piercing through him like a knife. He struggled to comprehend the darkness that had consumed the person he once thought he knew, his mind reeling with disbelief and anguish.

"Lumine… W-What are you talking about!? Why are you doing this!?" Childe's voice wavered with a mixture of desperation and confusion, his eyes pleading for answers. But Lumine's response was swift and cold, her actions speaking louder than words.

Before he could react, Childe was met with a brutal kick to the face, the force of the blow sending him sprawling to the ground once more. Pain radiated through him, but it paled in comparison to the agony of witnessing Lumine's descent into darkness.

As Lumine approached the injured man, she placed her hand over his mouth. A sense of dread washed over Childe. He watched in horror as dark purple lines began to snake across her hand, a sinister energy emanating from her touch. The man's agonized screams filled the air, sending shivers down Childe's spine.

Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Childe forced himself to his feet, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. With trembling hands, he reached for his sword, his gaze never leaving Lumine's twisted form.

“Shh. This will all be over soon.” She said.

“Lumine, stop!” Childe yelled, bringing his sword out. He threw it towards her hand, but she dodged it, glaring at him.

“You just never know when to stop, dO yOU?” She said as her voice became distorted.

Childe looked at her, terrified. What the hell was going on. Suddenly, a snap was heard from the man, and all went silent. Lumine sighed with satisfaction, lifting her hand from the poor man’s mouth, a trail of black smoke being left behind.

Childe stared at her as she got up, purple lines forming across her body.

“Sorry you had to find out this way, Childe.” She said

“What is this?! What did you do!?” Childe’s voice quivered with a mixture of fear and outrage, his sword hand shaking uncontrollably. But Lumine’s response was chillingly casual, her smirk sending a shiver down his spine.

“Relax. I only took his power and strength away so I could use it.” Lumine’s words sent a cold wave of realization crashing over Childe. He had been blind to her true intentions, deceived by the facade of the person she played out for him.

“Why? How?”

“Can’t you see, Childe?” Her voice echoed through the area, carrying an ominous weight. “This world is teeming with power, with those who claim dominion over others. The Archons, the Harbingers, those gifted with visions… They wield their strength without consequence, ruling over the masses with impunity.”

“And now,” she continued, “I am here to cleanse this world of its corruption. I will rise to claim my rightful place as its leader, to usher in a new era of justice”

Childe stared at her with concern. She walked up to him and lowered to his level.

“And I won’t let you get in my way.” She whispered in my ear.

She then touched his temples and knocked him out as her fingers pressed against his nerves.

-end of flashback-

“Honestly, you would be the one who falls for a traitor.” Dottore said

Childe glared at them, slamming his fist

“Shut up! Both of you!”

“Awe, is someone getting sensitive?” Another voice pitched in

Arlecchino appeared from the dark, with a smirk.

“Come now, let’s not make the child cry.” She teased.

Childe was beyond pissed at this point. He walked over to Pantalone, grabbed his sword and left, needing to get some steam released.

—

Childe’s training sessions became a battleground of conflicting emotions, his mind torn between honing his skills and grappling with the void left by your absence. With each swing of his sword and every surge of his elemental power, he found himself haunted by memories of you—your laughter, your warmth, the way your eyes lit up when you were together.

But these fleeting visions of you only served to deepen his despair, reminding him of the irreversible mistake he had made. The weight of his regret pressed down on him like a leaden cloak, suffocating him with the knowledge that he had driven away the one person who had always stood by his side.

As he sparred tirelessly, his movements grew erratic, his focus shattered by the specter of your absence. The image of you, tears glistening in your eyes, seared itself into his mind, a constant reminder of the pain he had inflicted upon you.

And then, as he collapsed to the ground, exhausted and defeated, the floodgates of his grief burst open. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the empty training grounds as he surrendered to the overwhelming anguish of your loss.

In that moment of raw vulnerability, Childe realized the depth of his need for you. You being gone left a horrible wound on his heart that refused to go away. He longed to turn back the hands of time, to undo the choices that had driven you away, to reclaim the happiness he had foolishly cast aside.

When he came back from a mission, you’d always be the first to help aid him. You’d always cook him something to eat as well since it’s probably been a while since he ate.

When he was in need of comforting, especially after a hard mission, he would always come to you to hear your soft, yet kind hearted voice. It was soothing to him and made him relax every time he heard it. But most of all, he missed your touch. The way you would hug him, rub his arm, play with his hair, all of it.

Now all of that is gone…you are gone. The thought of you out there, alone and vulnerable, haunted him day and night. Was he too late to save you? Was there any hope of finding you alive? The questions tormented him, gnawing away at his sanity with each passing moment.

Childe’s mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. Was someone hurting you? Were you suffering in silence, your cries for help going unheard? The thought of you in pain, or worse, dead, filled him with a sense of dread that threatened to consume him whole.

Childe refused to entertain the notion of your demise. The mere thought of such a tragic outcome was too much for him to bear. To accept that something terrible had befallen you would be the ultimate blow, shattering the fragile remnants of hope that still clung to his heart. The prospect of losing you, of never seeing your smile again or feeling your touch, was a nightmare he couldn’t bear to face.

He pulled out the picture you had in your room from out of his pocket. He looked at the neatly folded picture of you and him. You both were so little and full of joy…you two were like two peas in a pod. No one could separate you both.

But he, himself, did. He managed to do the unthinkable. He broke you two apart.

Tears fell down his face as he stared silently at the photo, clenching it in his hands as if he could go back to that time.

He let out a shaky sigh as he held it close to him.

“I’m so sorry, y/n…I’m so so sorry.” He whispered.

————

Part three up soon!

taglist:

@esthelily

@moloteco-real

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forbebeandjam · 3 days

Note

Heyyy!!! I love your works!!🌺

I was wondering if you could write a bully bada smut ?🎀

Fantasy | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | 21+

Summary: your bully makes you fantasize about things you shouldn’t.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: y’all this is a bully smut… please tell me you know what to expect 😭 still… Fingering, Spanking, etc. MDNI.

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

A/N: whoever requested this… sorry for taking so long bby😭 hope you like it!!

~♥︎~

Being the quiet kid in school had always been beneficial. Sitting in the back where no one could interrupt your learning was perfect for you.

The teachers wouldn't call on you, and the majority of your classmates didn't even know of your existence and only looked at you when the rankings came in and you ended up in first place.

"Well... where did she even come from?" they would say as they looked at you.

Your long hair fell over your face and your uniform was not flattering to your body but no one ever saw that, until one day when you entered your last year of high school.

Your parents had to move due to work and you ended up going to a prestigious school. Once again, you remained invisible to everyone.

However, that didn't last for long when your uniform changed. This uniform made your curly figure more prominent to students and to the perverted male teachers.

The boys started to talk about how many boys had fucked you for your hips to look like that. Many bet that they could get you into their bed easily.

The girls talked about how much of a slut you were because of the way you wore your uniform. You even tried to wear pants but the uniform was still accentuating your figure and there was nothing you could do about it.

You were always oblivious to class rankings so you only did what you were supposed to. When the boys tried to hit on you you always pushed them away.

That was until you fell for one of the boys in your class. You couldn't help it. He was the only one that made you feel like you existed without even knowing it.

You texted him every day, helped him study, hung out at his house, and even sat with him during lunch. Many girls started to hate on you even more when they knew you were always with him but you didn't care.

One day during a study session, you went to the bathroom of his house, and when you were walking past a room with loud music playing. The door was wide open and you saw the class president, Bada, making out with one of your classmates.

"You're so wet for me, Y/N,"

You stopped to look at the scene before you and felt something you'd never felt before. Why did she call your name? You didn't know but it made you bite your lip.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Bada said and you cleared your throat walking back to his room.

"Mark... Bada lives here?" You asked.

"Well, given the fact that she is my sister, yes," he said and you swallowed your spit in disbelief.

You started to love the way Mark treated you. He was kind and sweet but something about seeing Bada a few seconds ago made you feel all gushy and warm. You wanted more from her but you couldn't give that away.

"Um... I have to go home now. Can we study later?" You said as you packed your things.

"Sure. I'd give you a ride but my girlfriend is in Bada's room studying and I need to take her home as well," he said and you felt like an idiot falling for him.

Of course, he was too good to be single but you didn't know the girl in the next room was his girlfriend. The girl with Bada's hand up her skirt and her tongue down her throat.

"Oh! of course! I can just take the bus so I will head out now and I'll see you in school tomorrow," you said before walking out of the room and into the hall to Bada's room.

You stood in the door frame but the girl wasn't there anymore. Bada stood up and dragged you by the arm into the room and to her bathroom.

She slammed your body against the wall. You were scared. You had never been this close to Bada ever.

"I know you saw what happened and you know that's my brother's girlfriend so you will be quiet. Do you understand?" she said.

"Well, it didn't seem like you wanted to hide anything. Your door was wide open just like her legs," you said. You didn't know why. You had no clue what took over you to speak like that.

Bada hit the wall behind you making you flinch and squirm. A small smirk appeared on her lips.

"I was doing you a favor, babe. Like you didn't let Mark fuck you. Who knows what other filthy things you did in there?" your mouth widened.

"I did not! Mark is not like that!" you said.

"Aren't you the little slut everyone talks about in school? Tell me you didn't feel your pretty cunt dripping wet when you saw me fingering Hejin?" she said as she brought her head closer to yours until you could feel her breath on your lips.

You almost gave in but you decided to push her away.

"Fuck off!" you shouted and stormed out of the room. You took a minute to breathe and collect yourself. How did a stranger have this effect on you?

regardless, you pushed your thoughts away and went home.

The following day you went to school and everyone looked at you weirdly. You bit your lip and let your hair fall on your face again.

"What a slut. Sleeping with Mark was so low. He has a girlfriend," you heard someone say. Your eyes widened. This was definitely Bada's doing.

"Y/N, why would you sleep with my brother?" Bada said as she grabbed your face with great force making your eyes tear up.

"I didn't... Bada. You know I didn't," you said shaking your head... or at least trying.

"These are the consequences of snooping around, my little slut. Now get on your knees and beg," Bada whispered in your ear before pushing you down to the floor.

"It's what she deserves, huh?" you heard someone say.

"Bada, why are you doing this?" Mark spoke up and I felt my heart clench. I didn't want to hurt him but I had to speak up.

"It's because that stupid girlfriend of yours, Mark," you said. You felt a kick on your side and realized his girlfriend had hit and kicked you.

"What... what are you talking about?" Mark said.

"Tell him, you bitch. I'm on the floor but at least I wasn't the one begging for someone else to make me cum," she then slapped you across the face.

"Mark, don't listen to her. She's just jealous of me and you," the girl said as she held onto Mark's arm. He grabbed her and dragged her away from the scene leaving me on the floor.

Bada crouched down to your level and pulled your hair making your head tilt back.

"You better pray Mark doesn't find out or you will pay for it," she said before letting go of you and walking away.

So for the next few weeks, you were exhausted. Bada had been bullying you not only because of what happened with Mark but because you took her class rank.

Every day she would look for you just to give you a piece of her mind and destroy you with her words. Calling you things like "pathetic little girl" or "a stupid slut" and you got to the point where you'd just let her.

Why the hell you let her? you have no clue. It's almost as if you looked forward to being alone with her in the janitor's closet while she made you fall to your knees and humiliated you.

You always thought there was something wrong with you for wanting her after everything she did to you but when you looked into her eyes, all your thoughts disappeared.

The bell snapped you out of your thoughts and you placed your things into your bag and placed it over your shoulder. You were already anticipating Bada's hand on your shoulder as she pushed you down and made you beg for her to stop.

As you were about to walk out, you heard your teacher calling your name.

"Yes, Mr. Jones?" you asked as you walked back into the class.

"I noticed you are not far away from a higher grade in my class. How about we discuss how to bring your grade up?" he said as she started to close the door and walk to his desk.

He called you over to his desk and you walked toward him. You felt a strange aura but still decided to see what he wanted.

"Come closer. It's alright," He pulled your chair closer to him.

"Look, you can write an essay on your favorite book, retake your lowest grade test, or..." He paused and placed his hand on your thigh. You gasped as his hand moved up and down on your thigh and he began to lift your skirt. You tried to stop him but he grabbed your wrists and punned them down.

"Please, stop..." you said and he chuckled.

"Don't act all innocent. I heard what you've been doing around school. Letting any boy fuck you. What's the difference here?" as you felt his hand riding up your leg, you heard the door fly open.

"Well, would you look at this... Mr. Jones assaulting his student..." Bada said as she took a picture of the situation before her eyes. You panicked at the thought of Bada owning a picture of it.

"Delete that or I'll flunk you in my class!" he shouted as he walked up to Bada but she didn't move an inch.

"Like I need your class to pass. Besides, one click and I'll send it to my dad... the director of the board of education," Bada said showing the phone to him and he cleared his throat.

"How can we fix this? I will give you anything. A higher grade? WHAT? DAMN IT!" he shouted in frustration and all you could do was cry in silence.

"Never, ever talk or look at her again. I don't want you breathing the same air as her. You don't know her. And if you lay a finger on her again, I'll make sure you live the rest of your life, without a license, a job, and without fucking hands," Bada said before walking up to you.

She wrapped her oversized jacket around your figure and dragged you out of the classroom. She didn't stop until you reached a classroom in a really hidden place in the school. She pulled you inside the classroom and made you sit on the couch.

"What were you thinking? Why didn't you run away? Why did you just sit there and let him do whatever he wanted, Y/N?" she said clearly frustrated. You didn't respond.

"Oh, my gosh... you are actually a virgin?" she said and you started fiddling with your fingers. You felt pathetic for being so vulnerable with people, especially in front of Bada.

"Can you say something? I... I am going crazy," she said.

"Bada, I can't. You have no idea how you make me feel. Things I have never felt before. I feel pathetic for feeling all warm and gushy only when you touch me. I didn't know what to do with Mr. Jones. I was scared and now..." You paused and aggressively wiped your tears.

"Now the only thing in my head is you. You, pushing me down to the floor. Who in their right mind thinks like this? I don't even... I don't know, Bada,"

Bada approached you her touch was soft and you loved it. She lifted your chin.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She said locking eyes with you. Her pupils were dark and you could tell she was eager for your touch.

"Take it. If I'm going to be a slut, I'm going to be your slut. Take my virginity, Bada," you said making her smirk.

"It's that what you really want, pretty girl? You want to be my slut? Aren't you a pathetic little thing?" She said knowing well that you liked it when she did that.

She grabbed your face roughly and shoved her two long fingers inside of your mouth pushing them down your throat and you took them so well gagging slightly but sucking hard on them.

You felt your pussy grow wetter by the second as she played with your thigh. Her hand traced circles around your inner thigh dragging her hand up to your entrance. A new excitement was found in her eyes as she felt how wet you were through your panties.

"Is that all for me?" She asked and all you could do was nod causing her fingers to go deeper down your throat and your saliva was now slimy. She removed her fingers from your mouth and strings of thick saliva connected your mouth and her fingers.

"How well lubricated you left my fingers..." Without warning, she ripped off your soaked panties. She flipped you over and you were now lying on your stomach on her lap.

"Look at how wet my little slut is for me. Mh~ let's see how good you take me..." she shoved her two drenched fingers inside of you making you let out a whimpering noise.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Yes... but... keep... keep going," you said between heavy breathing and whimpering. You wanted to make her sadistic pleasures come true. And you had somehow turned all your pain into pleasure when you were under her touch.

You never told her this but, every time she beat you, cursed at you, or pulled you around, your panties would get drenched in your wetness.

"Mh~ Bada. Please, harder," you moaned as you wiggled your ass in front of her. You wanted her to spank you and she did. She left a red mark on your ass and you moaned.

She moved in and out of you harshly curling her fingers fighting to find your sweet spot, and with every thrust, she would hit your sensitive and swollen clit making you moan even more.

When she thrust in one more time, she finally came in contact with your spot as you moaned and moved more. So she stopped her movements and you started to squirm on her lap. She spanked you hard making you stop.

She turned to look at your face. You were still drooling and a stupid smile plastered on your face as your eyes rolled back. She chuckled and made you sit on the desk fingers still deep inside of you.

"Should I wipe that stupid smile off your face? You're such a pathetic slut, aren't you?" She said and you laughed.

"Only for you, Bada Lee," you replied. She smiled and attacked your lips. Kissing you and moving once again, she took hold of your neck and gently choked you.

You started to moan again, this time louder as she hit your spot over and over. Bada had come from seeing how you reacted to her. She never thought such a shy and innocent thing like you would be like this and just for her.

She always daydreamed about having you in this position and she never imagined that she would actually get to have you. But she wanted to taste you. To make you cum and taste you.

So she sped up. Having no mercy on your dripping pussy as the juices went everywhere on your thighs. And then you came all over her hand. She pushed her fingers back in your mouth and you started to suck.

She lowered herself on you and immediately attacked your sensitive clit collecting your cum with her tongue. You bit her fingers from the overstimulation and she moaned into your fold making you cum all over again letting out loud and shaky breaths.

"Mh~ you taste really good, my little slut. Cumming twice for me like that," she said as she licked up the mess you had made still twitching and whimpering every time her tongue made contact with your folds.

she made you sit up and use your panties to clean up the mess from your tights and folds before putting them in her pocket.

After a few minutes, you had come down from your orgasm and you managed to stand up. You pulled down your skirt afraid that your figure would make the skirt lift and others would see that your underwear was missing.

"Here. No one gets to see that but me," she said as she wrapped her jacket around your waist once more.

You started to walk out of the room with the same shy expression and your hair hanging from the sides of your head when you felt Bada take hold of your hair and pull your head back.

You moaned at her action and bit your lip as your eyes shut closed.

"I am not done with you, little slut," she said with a smirk. She planted a heated and sloppy kiss.

"I'll be waiting eagerly..." you said licking your lips and walked out of the room.

Thank you for reading 🩵

#forbebeandjam #honeybee156 #street woman fighter 2 #swf2 #bebe #bada lee #lgbt #street woman fighter x reader #jam republic #mdni #21+ only #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut

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vivalas-vega · 8 hours

Text

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

heyooo! new fic alert - with bradley !!! i'm not sure i even want to call this part one as it's more of an intro but here we are. super excited to finally be writing for mr. bradshaw, and even more excited to be revisiting this idea from back when this was exclusively a star wars blog and my writing was ass compared to now (professor poe dameron, anyone?) anyways, i wanted to get this out to get some feedback -- as always please please please let me know what you think !!!

longshot / part one / bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader (nickname dove!)

follow my taglist blog and turn on notifications to be updated @vegaslibrary

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mention of parental death -- general warnings going forward: typical 18+ content (drinking, swearing, smut, the works), me not knowing anything about college - this is my ideal world where everything works how I want it to not how it probably is :) (prob should mention this is not an au)

You relaxed as you stood in the aisle of the dimly-lit bookstore, taking in a deep breath of that new book smell and coffee from the in-house cafe, a smell so recognizable you almost felt the urge to cry as you reminisced. Your fingers nimbly opened a book, eyes scanning the description hidden within but you weren’t really absorbing the words so you closed it with a soft thud and slid it back onto the shelf. You continued to make your way through the store, thoughts as scattered as your approach to book shopping tonight but that was because you weren’t really shopping at all.

You weren’t even entirely sure why you’d come in, the comfort of your old college hangout called out to offer solace on your drive home and you couldn’t resist. You felt like the walls were caving in and to be standing in such a meaningful place, looking the same as it ever did, wrapped you in a sense of security. Your guard was beginning to drop for what felt like the first time in years and it was in that exact moment that you bumped into a familiar stranger, their voice raising the hairs on the back of your neck and flooding you with memories of a different time.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, let me help you…”

“Shit, my bad. Let me get that,” the handsome stranger that had just walked straight into you quickly knelt to pick up the books you’d both dropped. You felt your cheeks flush as you suddenly felt embarrassed, your wits already weren’t about you this morning and here you were colliding into the solid man currently gathering up your belongings in a perfectly fitted button up with a mustache that shouldn’t have worked and beautiful brown eyes.

“That’s alright, everyone needs a little jolt to keep them awake in the mornings,” you replied easily. You wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t checking him out, and it only made you flush further as he handed you your things, “Professor Bradshaw?” you asked, gesturing to the ID badge pinned to his pants and he nodded. “Weird coincidence, I was actually on my way to introduce myself to you,” you said before giving him your name, trying to put your earlier thoughts out of your head as his warm hand wrapped around yours to shake.

“Ah, yes… you applied to be my teaching assistant,” he said and you nodded.

“Figured it would be harder to tell me no if I came to pitch myself in person,” you chuckled.

“I take it you haven’t checked your email yet this morning?” he asked and you gave him a confused look. “Save the elevator pitch, I was inviting you to coffee to get to know you better and go over expectations.”

“Expectations? Does that mean I got it?” you asked, excitement palpable. “I thought you only accepted students who had taken your class before?”

“Decided to make an exception for you,” he replied with an easy smile. “Does three work for you? Here?”

You nodded, “absolutely, I’ll see you then. I promise you won’t regret this, Professor Bradshaw.”

“Please, call me Bradley.”

“Professor Bradshaw,” you said with a smirk as he looked up at you, and he quickly fumbled with the books before standing to give you a proper once over.

“Professor,” he sighed, “you know I hate that.”

“I know,” you responded. “Nice to see that this is still your go-to spot.”

“Old habits die hard,” he chuckled, “are you back home because of your parents?” he asked and you nodded, and you didn’t miss the solemn expression that passed over his features before he quickly corrected it. “I’m so sorry, Dove.”

You smiled softly, “haven’t heard that name in a while,” you replied, dodging past his condolences entirely.

“Sometimes I forget it’s not actually your name,” he chuckled. “Half expect the banner at the bottom of the screen to say Dove and I’m always shocked when it doesn’t.”

“You’ve been watching?” you asked, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Of course I have,” he replied as if it would have been absurd for him not to. You lapsed into comfortable silence as the two of you drank each other in, noting what had changed and what had stayed the same… you had to keep from squinting at him because he looked the same as he did four years ago, maybe the lines around his eyes were a little deeper when he smiled but it was the only indication that any time had passed at all.

You were taller, which he couldn’t reconcile until he glanced down and saw the stilettos on your feet, sharp and black and perfectly matching the black suit vest and jeans you wore. Your style was the same, classic and a little academic with an edge, only now it seemed more elevated, you seemed more elevated.

“How long have you been in town?” he finally asked.

“Only a few days,” you answered, “feel like my head is spinning with how unchanged everything is… and this certainly isn’t helping my deja vu,” you chuckled.

“If I remember correctly this is right about the same spot you ran into me all those years ago,” he said, looking around and you gave him an incredulous look.

“Me? It was you who ran into me, just like you did a few minutes ago,” you said through a laugh and he shrugged.

“He said she said,” he replied as you shook your head. “Well, how long are you here for?”

“Indefinitely, I’m afraid,” you said and he gave you a confused look. “Dealing with typical dead parents stuff, turns out there’s a lot more to it than one would think.”

He nodded in understanding, “yeah, no one prepares you for all the paperwork.”

“That and they were too busy to keep up on the house… I always knew it needed some love but I’ve got a contractor telling me it basically needs a top to bottom renovation,” you sighed. “But hey, it’s a nice distraction from Capitol Hill.”

“You’re not rushing to get back?”

“God no, if I even go back at all,” you said with a soft laugh and now he was really surprised. “Oh,” you said, suddenly a little self conscious about how much you’d already said in this bookstore aisle, “I’m keeping you.”

He shook his head, “you’re not. It’s not everyday I run into my favorite student,” he said and you couldn’t help but flush.

“Still? Guess I set the bar too high,” you teased and he nodded.

“If only you knew,” he chuckled. “I would love to see you again though, actually catch up if you have any free time?”

You smiled as you fished your phone out of your bag, “I would love that,” you said as you exchanged phones to input your numbers.

“I’ll text you,” he said and you were about to part ways but you were unsure of how to do so… you didn’t want to simply walk away, but you didn’t know if a handshake were too formal or a hug too personal, but he made the decision for you, already seeing the gears turning in your head as he opened his arms subtly and you softly laughed as you stepped in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It really is good to see you, Dove.”

“You too, Rooster,” you replied and he gave you a squeeze before letting you go as he laughed.

“Still regret telling you that.”

“What? You can use my callsign but I can’t use yours?” you asked with a smirk as you started walking backwards away from him.

“You don’t have a callsign!”

“Then what’s Dove?” you retorted and he didn’t have an answer, and so you gave him a soft nod as you turned for the register, and as you checked out you were unable to keep the smile off your face. Everything about returning home had been jarring, but not this… not him. Your favorite professor, your mentor, maybe even your friend towards the end of your working relationship. Your mind had been reeling as you tried to piece together what life would be like now with your career up in the air and your parents gone, and for the first time in weeks you felt like maybe this trip home wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

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undertheopensky · 1 day

Text

Extinction

Whumptober Day 27: I misread Alt Prompt #7 Examination, so I guess this is now a Skies-specific prompt of Extinction. Though if you wanted to get poetic about it, I guess ‘Scars’ would also work.

Characters: Sky, Four, everyone’s kind of there especially in the first part

Trigger warnings: Panic attacks, grief, dehumanisation, it makes sense in context

Read on Ao3!

–––

“No, see, wolves are to wolfos what unicorns are to horses,” Hyrule is explaining to a perplexed Wild. “And rabbits to a pols voice. Y’know, the non-monstery version.”

“Out of curiosity, what the fuck do you think a unicorn is?” Legend asks, visibly fascinated by the whole conversation.

Hyrule thinks for a moment. “I’m pretty sure it’s like a horse with fairy wings? That doesn’t want to kill you.”

“Okay, I think we need to introduce you to more horses than Twilight’s monster.”

“Oi!” Twilight protests, looking up from his leatherwork.

“Last week she stomped and then ate a deku baba,” Legend says flatly.

“So?”

“Oh my god,” Legend mutters. Then, as Time walks up, his patrol apparently finished, “Hey, old man! What’s a unicorn to you?”

“Horse with a horn,” he replies easily.

Wild wrinkles his nose, clearly struggling to imagine it. “What’s the horn for?”

“For stabbing people, obviously.”

“What?! No!” Indignant, Four looks up from his book. “They cleanse water and purify poisons! There are no legends associating them with the battlefield, except for one country that uses them as the heraldry device for medics!”

Time shrugs, clearly unbothered.

“No wings, then?” asks Hyrule, slightly crestfallen.

“Nah, that’s a pegasus,” says Warriors.

“Like the boots?” Legend squints at the wings on his own.

“I think so? It’s a horse with, like, bird wings. One of the noble families back home uses them in their heraldry. There’s a lot of mythical creatures on heraldry, actually.”

“Rabbits ain’t mythical,” says Twilight.

“I’ve never seen one before.”

“Wait, back up – what’s a rabbit?” says Wind.

“A non-monstery pols voice.”

Wind isn’t pleased with Hyrule’s answer. “And what the hell is a pols voice?”

“It’s like…” Hyrule is stumped by the question. “It’s like… a, a blob with whiskers and long ears, except then it opens its mouth and it’s ALL mouth, and all teeth, and –”

“Oh, those! Huh, I never knew what they were called. I only came across ‘em once. And a rabbit is…”

“Smaller and less evil,” says Legend dryly, which which for some reason makes Twilight sputter with choked laughter.

“Oh, yeah - Sky,” Hyrule turns around to address him, “Sky, you’re the earliest -”

“I have never seen a unicorn,” Sky interrupts. “And I’m not sure what a rabbit is, but there’s a lot of flora and fauna on the Surface we’re still struggling to figure out, and I haven’t seen much of it that’s familiar while travelling with you. Things must change a lot through the eras.” He feels his face fall as his heart does. “Like loftwings, I guess.”

“What are loftwings, anyway? You’ve mentioned them before.”

Sky’s brow furrows. “Have I not explained loftwings yet?”

“You got partway through and then we were attacked by those chuchus and got distracted,” Wild offers.

Sky pulls a face. Right, and then cleanup had taken forever, because chuchus. Of all monster species, why were those ones so universal? They were barely even functional! “Okay. Loftwings are… huge birds, I guess is the easiest way to describe them. Each Hylian gets a loftwing partner when we’re young, and we grow up together. It’s - everyone has one. It’s been really weird to me that none of your eras have them. Since we’re on an isolated series of islands - or, well, we were - loftwings are essential to carry us from place to place.”

“They carry you? How big are they?”

“Pretty big.” Sky squints for a moment. “Crimson’s wingspan would stretch between that log and where Twilight’s sitting, easy.”

“Giant birds?” Wind screws up his face. “Like the Helmaroc King? Don’t like that.”

It’s Hyrule’s turn to make a face. “What’s a helmaroc king?”

Wind shrugs. “Massive bird monster. Oh, hey, maybe that’s what happened to Loftwings?”

“Hm?” Sky blinks back from where he’d been imagining Crimson sitting between Twilight and Warriors, sneakily tugging the captain’s scarf whenever he looked away. Goddess, he misses him. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You said it was weird that they don’t exist in any of our eras, right? Maybe it’s because they turned into monsters over time, like wolves and rabbits!”

Sky doesn’t know what noise he makes at that, doesn’t know what his face is doing. He feels cold, and sick, and horrified, because no no no that can’t be what happened please tell him that’s not what happened -

But why did the loftwings disappear? Left behind only in heraldry and insignia, not even their names left to history? How could they have been forgotten so completely?

“No,” he chokes out, “no, that can’t be. Loftwings aren’t monsters.”

“But sometimes animals can become monsters when they’re exposed to lots of dark magic over many years, like with wolfos. It would make sense why we’ve never heard of them, right, if they all became, like, kargarocs or something.”

The voices of the others die away to an indistinct hum. Sky thinks he should be concerned about that, except he’s already occupied with the sudden chill against his skin, the way his heart feels simultaneously too large and too small for the space it occupies, straining and racing, the way his lungs burn when he tries to breathe and ache when he doesn’t.

His head hurts.

His heart hurts.

Slowly, the buzzing fades.

“If we find a unicorn, do you think we can smuggle it back to my Hyrule?” Hyrule is asking.

“The hell do you want one of them for?”

“If they can really purify water, then –”

They’ve moved on from the conversational bomb that had rocked Sky to his foundations. Accepted the explanation without comment or question. To them, it’s just another strange fact about the world, like the way monsters in Wild’s Hyrule will all spring back to life when the moon turns red, or that there’s magic trapped in music. Over time, animals can turn into monsters.

And Sky just – doesn’t know how, doesn’t have the vocabulary to explain to them that loftwings aren’t animals – they’re people.

(He’s never had to explain it before. On Skyloft, everyone knows this, from the smallest child to the most forgetful elder: loftwings are your partner, the other half of your soul. They’re people.

When they can’t even understand that much, how does he even begin to explain how horrifying it is to think of them becoming nothing more than monsters, over the millenia?)

–––

Maybe this time, Sky thinks. Maybe this time the portal will take them home.

To his home, at least. He’s never been away so long before. And his jaunts to the Surface had in no way prepared him for the loneliness of being eras and countries away from his friends and his family and his loftwing. And maybe - maybe with it all close to hand, the feelings at his fingertips - he’ll be able to explain it better to the others. Explain it so they’ll understand.

The saturated colours and faint burr of magic through the earth raise his hopes briefly, but - no. This isn’t Skyloft. Isn’t even the Surface beneath it. It’s - it’s easier to define it by what it isn’t. The Surface has lain untouched by Hylian hands for centuries, ancient and wild. This place - it feels tamer. Steadier. Young, almost, but not in the sense of age - in the sense of, of rawness in its magic. It feels new.

And for all that - he knows the days of Skyloft and her Knights are long behind this place.

“Mine,” announces Four, unknowingly confirming Sky’s thoughts. “We’re not far from Lake Hylia, from the looks of it. Anyone wanna watch Wild go fishing again?”

“Hell yeah!” Wind cheers immediately, over Twilight’s groan of frustration.

“Cub, really -”

Wild brightens. “We should compete! See who can catch the most fish for dinner!”

“Now that’s jus’ not fair, Wild, yer explosions will scare off any fish they don’t kill -”

Always happy to stir the pot, Legend says, “Sounds like a skill issue,” and grins at Twilight’s dark look.

Sitting at the base of a tree - or slumping, more accurately - Sky watches their antics with a quiet gaze and no interest in joining in himself.

He’d known it wasn’t likely. The number of times they’ve gone to a familiar Hyrule are far outnumbered by the times no one can identify, and even then, there’s eight other time periods they could land in. He can’t help the disappointment, is all.

Is this what homesickness feels like?

It kinda sucks. No wonder Wind was so miserable.

He’s drawn from contemplating the pooling unhappiness under his ribcage by Four inching closer, hands tucked behind his back. He looks - nervous. Not like he’s going to try to drag him into the water fight now happening on the lake’s shore, at least. Just uncertain. The smile Sky musters for him is probably not a very good one. “Something up, Four?”

“I, um.” Four rocks on his heels, looking almost uncertain. “I… wanted to show you. Something.”

Sky doesn’t actually want to be left alone with his thoughts, so he nods agreeably and hauls himself to his feet. “Lead the way, then.”

Four takes him far enough into the forest that the shouts and laughter and echoes of Wild’s small explosions fade entirely, before choosing a wide clearing to pause in. “I, um.” Four spins, clasping his hands behind his back again. “I noticed that you - well. When the others were talking about loftwings the other day. You got really upset when they were talking about them becoming monsters, or going extinct.”

Ice shoots through Sky’s heart, freezes over his throat for one critical moment. “Yeah,” he finally rasps. “I don’t - it’s - they don’t -”

Four shakes his head. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain it. I just wanted to show you -” He fumbles with his pouch, pulls out a child-sized ocarina that’s not quite too small for his hands.

The tune he plays sounds almost like a birdcall.

It’s pleasant, if mournful. Sweet-toned and piping like wind instruments tend to be. Sky wonders why Four had moved them so far away just to play him a short song, and then -

Wingbeats. Loud and unmistakeable.

He startles and looks up as a shadow passes overhead - a shadow too large to be any of the birds of Four’s era - and all he can see is a half-silhouette framed in the sun, but his heart leaps at the familiarity.

And when they land -

A loftwing.

Small, but distinctive: the beak broad and long and golden, the curl of their crest and their tail. Pure white, save the bars of colour across the feathertips - Sky’s never seen one like them and he’s never been so relieved.

“Her name is Zeffa,” Four says, from where he’s half-wrapped around the loftwing’s neck in a hug.

“You never told me you had a loftwing,” Sky breathes, stepping forward to greet them - to greet her, as she reaches out in curious welcome.

Four shrugs, feathers ruffling against his back. “I never knew what they were called. She was always just Zeffa, to me. She came to me when I was eight, in the middle of my first adventure. She saved my life,” he adds, snuggling his face into the side of hers as she ducks down and croons at him.

Sky takes the opportunity to look her over more closely. Definitely smaller than average, but with Four as her rider they’re perfectly proportioned. Her feathers are all clean white, no countershading or freckles or markings except the traditional wing bars, the gold fringed by something he’s never seen before. He’d thought it was a simple deep blue at first but it keeps changing colour as Zeffa shifts and the light hits it in different ways. Green one way, red another; a rainbow trapped in keratin fibre.

Sky can feel the grin creeping across his face; wouldn’t dream of trying to stop. “She suits you.”

Four grins back. He looks so comfortable, standing in the shade of Zeffa’s beak and leaning up against her. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Her mind is different to Crimson’s, all shades of cool water instead of open sky and cloud, but it’s still crystal clear. Greetings, Chosen Hero.

“Been a while since I heard that one.” Been a while since he’d last spoken with a loftwing, for that matter; he hopes he’s not rusty. Hopes she can sense his delight and fondness and gratitude, for the care she shows to Four.

She clacks her beak at him, pleased.

“Do all the loftwings call you that?” Four asks, riveted, and Sky’s heart swells at the knowledge that Four can hear her too.

“Usually just the ones who don’t know me personally, or the ones who are making fun of me.” He steps closer, with her approval.

The top of her head barely clears his own. Taking that into account, Sky thinks her beak is a little smaller, too. She smells of feathers and ozone and rain. She smells like home.

“So loftwings do still exist.”

She regards him with something like sorrow, and his heart drops.

I am the last.

I was born towards the end of your reign; the last true loftwing born to Skyloft. And I knew even then that I would be waiting a long time for my beloved. I was born knowing it.

You grieved that, even then. I was too young to tell you, but I will say now, in hopes you will remember: I do not regret the waiting. They were worth waiting for. She tugs Four’s headband playfully, making him shout in protest when it slips over his eyes.

“How long did you have to wait?” Sky whispers, heart aching. Even if she says - he knows it’s a long, long time between Four’s era and his own.

She shrugs, wings settling back against her sides. Who can say? What is time, and how does it pass? Is it truly waiting, to simply live?

And oh, her personality is shining through - mischief hidden under patience, the glee of being deliberately and annoyingly cryptic. No wonder Four didn’t know what she was. Every attempt to ask was probably met with a riddle until he gave up. Sky finds himself smiling again. Even though it hurts. “You still had to be alone, and for that, I’m sorry.”

There is no fault to claim. All things change. From the kikwi to the zora - as the world changes, all must change with it, or be left behind. She runs her beak through his hair, an attempt at comfort.

Sky buries his face in the side of her neck.

I am the last. But do not grieve us.

Four tugs on his sleeve, breaking the focus of his connection. “C’mon, I wanna - I’ve still got something to show you, Zeffa’s not all of it.”

Sky glances back towards the lake. “Is it far?” They’ve been gone long enough as it is, really, and he doesn’t want the others wasting their time searching for them in a panic.

Four shrugs. “It’s fine. I told Time where we’d be going. C’mon, hop on, it’s not far by air but I wouldn’t wanna walk.” He follows his own advice, clambering up Zeffa’s side with ease and sitting across her shoulders, legs in front of her wings. He doesn’t even seem to notice the lack of saddle.

Why would he? Sky thinks with another pang. Loftwing saddlers haven’t been needed for centuries. Does Four even know they existed? “Are you sure she can carry us both? I’m pretty heavy.”

Four looks offended on Zeffa’s behalf. “She’s not that small! And she’s taken multiple people before!”

I will be fine, your majesty. Zeffa clacks at him, amused.

Sky deliberately does not pay attention to that last part. “If you’re sure I won’t hurt her…”

“You won’t,” says Four, and he’s so confident with him that Sky believes him.

There’s nowhere to jump from so like Four he mounts up on the ground, Four in front and Sky behind. It makes him nervous, riding without a saddle - not because he thinks he’ll fall off, but because what if he hurts her? Crushes her feathers the wrong way, clamps down too tight without leather to buffer the force? And is Four sure she can take off from here, getting airborne is hard enough without carrying so much extra weight -

She turns her head to laugh at him with one large, dark eye.

Her wings spread wide. They’re beautiful in the sunlight, red and green flashing at the edges of her primaries. There’s even some purple in the shadows closest to her body, all four of Four’s tunic colours shining through her wings. Goddess, she fits him so beautifully.

Two steps and a powerful wingbeat and then the air is rushing up around them, catching them like they were already falling, and they’re in the air. It can only have been magic but Sky doesn’t know where it came from; can’t bring himself to care, when the forest is getting smaller and blurrier under their feet and the wind is streaming ice-cold against his face and neck and ears.

Goddess, he’s missed this.

The sky looks so much more beautiful from up here; the clouds like they could be solid enough to walk on (though he knows that’s not true). Laid out beneath them is the kingdom, in lines and squares and patches of colour, abstract and strange. Could he draw a map of this, Sky wonders? Could he figure out where things used to be, if he can find the right landmarks?

Four grins at him over his shoulder, delighted by Sky’s happiness.

True to Four’s word, they’re not in the air long before Zeffa is banking, beginning a descent that for the first time in years makes a pang of disappointment rise in Sky’s gut. Goddess, he wants to go home.

Four lets him jump off when they get close, but doesn’t follow. Sky has a moment of panic before remembering Four definitely has a gliding item, he’s not trapped up there, and then Zeffa’s actually landing with the Hero of the Four Sword still perched on her back. There’s another blast of definitely wind magic as she touches down, cushioning what might otherwise have been a heavy landing. That explains it. Does that happen every time? Is it something Zeffa learned, since there are no sky islands to jump off of here? He’ll have to ask her, later.

“Where are we?” Sky says as Four swings off the loftwing’s back. The ruins they landed in are ancient and unfamiliar, but he thinks - he can almost understand the text carved into stone, if he tilts his head and squints. He doesn’t know this place - it just - echoes, somehow.

“The Fortress of Winds,” Four says. He hasn’t moved from the centre platform, still pressed up against Zeffa as he watches Sky move around. “This is where I first met Zeffa.”

“Uh huh?” Sky’s listening, he swears, but there’s something about the letters on this stone tablet, almost but not-quite the same as his own. If he squints just a little - no, maybe this way -?

Four comes over to tug on his sleeve again. “C’mere, I think you’re moving too much.”

They both sit in the shade thrown by Zeffa, as she spreads her wings to sunbathe.

“Are we waiting for something?”

“Shhhh,” is all Four says in response.

Sky gives up and settles in. With Zeffa’s wing breaking the worst of the wind, and her dusty feather-smell surrounding him, Sky’s the most relaxed he’s been in weeks.

Then he starts to hear something.

High-pitched chitters and whistles, the beating of small wings. Four had said there were no monsters left in the fortress, but that sure sounded like keese to Sky. Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he turns his head to peer around the edge of Zeffa’s wing.

His heart leaps into his throat and stays there.

Birds. Brightly coloured, greens and blues and oranges, perching on the rockwork and hopping around the lichen-covered floor.

Their beaks are short and sharply curved. They’ve lost the long, flexible tails that streamed out behind them in flight, replaced by a fan of feathers that seems impractically small. The feather banding is missing, the white and gold of the goddess and the contrasting partner flashings.

And of course, they’re tiny. Small enough to sit on an outstretched arm; the smallest could sit on his hand.

But the crests are still there, three wispy, curling feathers on the back of the skull that flex and stretch as they chatter amongst themselves. There’s still a flash of intelligence in their small, dark eyes. The nearest hops closer and chirps in greeting, and he feels a press of joy! and welcome! and sneaky, mischievous play? Play! Play with us!

Sky doesn’t realise he’s crying until the tears spill over in hot rivers. Four shoots him a worried look.

“They’re still here,” he chokes out, and smiles.

After everything, the loftwings are still here.

#whumptober 2023 #skies writes #linked universe #lu fic #lu sky #lu four

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atopvisenyashill · 2 days

Note

Worst things GOT did casting wise:

- making Dany too beautiful (+ styling her in a way that she never has a hair out of place, always wears BLUE - which makes her look peaceful and soft and angelic, not making her burn her hair off etc). I just think of that one official art piece that's in the illustrated AGOT book where dany is bald, with the dragons and sparks and frames around her and its so striking instead of the "beautiful angelic blonde women stand empowered with her tits out" scene we got

- casting Iain Glen as Jorah and not like. a random Lannister (like. Come on. He is a burly and ugly man... why are you casting one of the most beautiful men to play him.... this is how we ended up with dany/jorah shippers)

-making Joffrey too unattractive (this is not meant to disparage JG who is a great actor and seems like a really cool dude and i'm not saying he's ugly but I think from his very first scene Joffrey looks very punchable and it would have been so much smarter to make the audience .. relate to Sansa's infatuation with his golden looks. In my head (and in all the official art) Joffrey looks like a male version of cersei/a younger version of Jaime.)

- making Dany, Jon, Robb, Marg, Brienne etc 10+ years older than Sansa and the younger starklings .... It's not "the main characters and arya (who is so cool and can kill people) + the little children" it's ONE AGE group of equally important characters

Like I know people are upset at Ned/Jon etc being too attractive, WHICH I GET, but I feel like those were very vibe based casting decisions and i'm ultimately fine with that (I also think it's easier for the audience to root for someone if they're attractive so like. I guess they had to do it) but these other things resulated in people's perception of the characters being so wildly different from what they're supposed to be. The real reason people get so angry whenever someone says they wish tamzin had stayed is because they don't like the idea of daenerys not being this ethereal beauty (TM is beautiful but not in a conventional way) that they can fully root for without issue.

1. NO YOU ARE SOOOOOO RIGHT ABOUT THEM REFUSING TO LET DANY LOOK UGLY. it’s not to say tamzin isn’t clearly beautiful, but i think she’s beautiful in the same way gwendoline christie is, which is that she’s very striking and she has a strong presence but she’s not exactly what people picture when they say “typical hot lady” (which is Crazy these are all able bodied white women, like the definition of “beauty” is soooooo fuckijg narrow that tamzin merchant is ~atypically beautiful) vs emilia definitely is, and YES like everything from not burning her hair off to emilia being,,,,,fuller in figure than dany as a fourteen year old would be is just very clear that they saw dany different than the way she is On The Page. i mean i know people whack george for saying that she’s like a sexy funny lady or whatever but george never lets go of the fact that she’s incredibly young whereas d&d completely miss that part of her character.

i will say i Get the criticism of tamzin perhaps not picking up on the conlangs easily because one thing you can say for emilia is that she had a decent head for the conlangs, she’s even still partially fluent in dothraki lmaooo. but all the other stuff they said about why they recast dany it’s like. hmmmmmmmmmm.

2. absolutely right about iain especially because he’s similar to idk paddy in that he’s got CHARISMA but unlike viserys, they didn’t intent to portray him as a deeply flawed, antagonistic character they went in portraying him as like an objectively Good Guy dedicated to dany. he’s just so much less creepy and pushy in the show and has several scenes where he shows some moral backbone - that “yet here you stand” “yet here i stand” scene is sooooooo good for example, the fact that he actually apologizes for spying on dany, giving him the greyscale story & not having him fuck a valyrian looking woman in a brothel 💀, etc etc - and you also just lose some of the creepiness here because emilia is clearly a grown if young woman and ian is handsome, so it’s like. welll of Course you want to root for them to be together! and never mind that this is a Massive departure from their book characterizations!! again, they have this idea of jorah in their head that doesn’t match up with what’s on the page even a little.

3. i do get your point re: joffrey and i think this is my problem with aidan as littlefucker too - they’re too obviously villains and it makes ned and sansa look stupid. like, in the books we have that moment where robb almost decks joffrey which does seem to signal something bad but the crown prince being full of himself doesn’t mean he’s going to threaten his betrothed’s sister with a sword then get his ass handed to him by a toddler. in the show we get QUITE a number of scenes where joffrey is shown to be a brat AND as you say, just like aidan, jack has a Certain Look, he looks like a shitty jock who has allegations against him ajsjdj like irl when jack smiles he’s so adorable!! but in the show they REALLY play up his ability to channel a greasy aura ya know aksjd. when the point of asoiaf is often that villains don’t LOOK like villains, but some of our Main Villains clearly resemble typical villains in the show.

4. “it’s ONE age group of characters” NO YOU ARE SO RIGHT. like, there’s several years difference from robert to ned to cat to the twins to tyrion but they’re all the same generation of characters. there’s that exact same age difference from brienne to robb, dany, jon to sansa, arya, bran, with theon kind of similar to characters like jorah, who are old enough to remember The Before Times but aren’t quite in either generation. but because they wanted dany, brienne, jon, robb, and margaery to be more of a Typical archetype rather than an exploration of that archetype, they aged everyone up and essentially invented another generation between the “adult” characters and the “kid” characters. not to be super nerdy here but one of my favorite worked shoots in wrestling is one cody rhodes did where he was ranting about the way young wrestlers get put through the grinder and he has this amazing line where he sums it up as “old men talking, young men dying” and it’s not to say there aren’t a lot of old dudes Also dying lmao but you really see this where young leaders are often unprepared for their responsibilities and used as puppets by older men and you just MISS THAT when that whole generation is so grown!

it’s like they looked at those themes of war being terrible and all consuming and brutal no matter how justified you feel you are and went “wow war is brutal 😍” LIKE PLEASE????

#asks #anti game of thrones #anti d&d #anons #also i know famous wrestler cody rhodes is not the first person to say something akin to that #but bc i am a nerd. he’s always the first person i think of bc his acting was amazing in that scene lmao aksjsjs #i think he was channeling some real frustration and anger there as someone from a wrestling family and as someone frustrated #with his own booking. ntm the run ins with injury and Death he personally had. and all this being passed down by vince’s old ass.#i think that wrestling problem where multiple generations of a family are mistreated by some old man making money.#is actually not dissimilar from the problems in asoiaf we see.#like tyrion even says himself! back and back and back it goes.#and for what? for why? robb is so young. ned is so young.#just something that feels completely missed by the show!#and here cody rhodes is feeling it in real life akskskdjd

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steviewashere · 1 day

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This may be a bit out there request (also feel free to ignore) for a small oneshot, but can I request some pure steve angst? him and hop sharing a drink, no ships, just two dudes talking about shitty things that have happened to them over the past few years. My boy desperately needs a father figure.

Okay, I'm so sorry this took so long to answer. I literally started writing it, forgot about it, and then came back and couldn't think of anything. And I also didn't have Hopper share too much, but I hope this suffices some. This was a fun challenge. <3

Pairing: Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper CW: Discussion of Canon Traumatic Events, Brief Mention of Canon Violence Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

🫂—————🫂 He’d been sitting outside with his head between his knees for the better part of half an hour when the door creaked open behind him. Even as the footfalls, heavy and slow, made their way towards him, Steve didn’t dare drag his eyes up. Kept them securely at his feet. To the wooden step underneath him. On the off chance that whatever world existed around him was a mirage.

The person sits down next to him with an unceremonious grunt. Their breaths are as heavy as their steps. A swallow clicking in their throat, probably dry and overused. Something chilled is pressed against his denim clad thigh. And that’s when Steve finally draws enough effort to look up.

Hopper sits hunched, head pointed at the trees beyond his cabin, eyes darting between them. In his right hand is an offered, cold bottle of beer. A firm outstretched bridge. And Steve tentatively takes it. He’s not quite old enough to be partaking in this, Hopper should know that, but also—he’s not the chief anymore, is he? So, why should he care?

His beer is already uncapped when he raises it to his face. Knocking it back and taking it in with a deep swallow. The foam churning on his tongue, sugary between his teeth, and moist on his lips. He heaves a sigh. Mutters, “Thanks.”

Another bottle is drank from. The slosh against the sides of the glass an easy sound. Hopper smacks his lips together. “Looked like you needed one,” he states gruffly. A swig. “God knows I did with all that damn commotion in there.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, “it’s too loud for me.” He takes a small sip at his drink. Shifts the bottle back and forth between his palms, relishing in the crisp condensation on his skin. Begins to pick at the label where it looks like it’ll peel away easily, if he just gave it his full effort. “I don’t even know why I came over. I can’t stand noisy shit.”

“Feel like the old Steve Harrington that I’ve met would say otherwise,” Hopper muses. Instead of dignifying it with a response, Steve just nods his head in silent agreement. Because yeah, pre-November, 1983 Steve would be doing keg stands and chanting at the top of his lungs. Not moping around on the front porch of the ex-chief of police. Sharing beer of all things.

The noise inside the house floats out from under the crooked front door. A mixture of birdsong and laughter. The subtle soft chirps of crickets beginning to wake up. It’s good outside, the air cold on Steve’s face and the sun nearly set. He takes a deep breath and just absorbs.

“Sometimes,” Hop starts softly when their shared silence stretches too long, “sometimes I look at you and see myself.”

Steve swallows around nothing. “That a good thing?” He asks just as quiet.

“No,” Hopper answers honestly. “You look like you’d rather be under the dirt than be anywhere. There’s…you’re a lonely lookin’ nineteen year old.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well—“ Steve sighs. “—maybe I’d rather that. All things considered, Hopper.” There are eyes on him, he can sense them through the aching joint of his left shoulder. They burn him. It hurts to have attention like this on him, after so much time alone. And he knows that he’s got Robin and the party members—he’ll maybe have Eddie if he pulls through in the hospital. But that doesn’t make his house any less silent, or his parents’ room any less dusty, or his bed any less cold.

“You got anybody you can talk to, kid? Outside of Robin?”

Steve sniffs. Picks at the label on his beer bottle. Tries not to notice his shaking hands. “Who ‘m I gonna talk to?” He asks lowly. “A shrink is gonna think I’m crazy, put me away. And y’know how my parents are. They aren’t going to believe me, let alone listen.”

Hopper’s leg bumps his. Beer bottle clinking against the porch as he sets it down. He ducks down, enough to make direct eye contact with Steve. His eyes are fierce, yet inviting and soft. Steve’s stomach churns. “Talk to me, then. You need an adult who will understand you? I’m right here.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything. Everything. Something, Steve.” A hand lands gently on his shoulder. The warmth a lull, a sweet thing. And something inside of him begins to melt. But he doesn’t say anything, still. Hopper sighs long and winded. And the touch dissipates, leaving Steve drifted and yearning.

Behind them, Hopper’s cabin swells with noise. That raspy laugh of Robin’s. And Mike’s honk snorting. Even Jonathan is adding something, a few loud comments here and there. “I can’t believe we won!” Dustin crows and the others join in intense agreement. And Steve wonders why he can’t celebrate like they can. What happened to him. Where his joy lays in all this.

Hopper sips his beer again, looking out at the trees once more. Smacks his lips together. “I don’t know how to celebrate this shit,” he admits quietly. “I’m…Part of me is excited to not see my girl use those powers of hers again. To hopefully see her hair grow out. But another part of me is—I just remember all the bad shit that happened before we got to this point.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaks. He gulps a good third of his beer in one go. The sour bitterness of the drink burning his throat alive. When he pulls the bottle away, he absentmindedly rubs at the dark red demobat scar on his neck. “Especially when my body remembers and is covered in my failures,” he mutters.

Beside him, Hopper makes a noise of agreement. A hum. A grunt sort of thing. “I used to be a fat guy.” He half-heartedly chuckles. “Now I’m just this skinny dude with real short hair and the eyes of a World War Two soldier.”

Steve snorts. “And I used to have plain, blemish free skin. Now look at me, Hop.” He gestures loosely at his own face and neck when Hopper does turn and look over. “No amount of coconut oil—or whatever—is going to get rid of this shit. Like my mom keeps insisting on. I mean…She doesn’t know all the shit I’ve been through. The—The plate I took to the crown of my head or the needle to my neck or those Russian shitheads that knocked me senseless.”

Hopper’s breath hitches. Steve curses at himself internally. Remembers the haunted body that pulled him in close when they reconvened. Remembers the frantic calls from Jonathan, of all people, asking what to do when it comes to nightmares—“Not mine,” Jonathan had said, “Hop’s. He just…He just yells.” And even remembers the faint hints Hop gave: the relief in finding a jar of peanut butter, the biting cold, the labor, and the cells. The separation from who he used to be. The loneliness within what he’d gone through, which Steve knows all too well. “Russians?” Hopper softly implores anyway.

And part of Steve knows what he’s doing. The crack to his shell deepening, stretching. But he answers despite it all. Keeps his voice leveled, careful as to not be heard from inside the cabin. “Yeah,” he whispers, the syllables cracking. “Robs and Dustin and I, we all decoded this tape, right? There was Russian speech on it or whatever and I ended up finding the source of the intermission. It was coming from underneath Starcourt. So, y’know how stupid we all are, we went ahead and found these assholes and…Well I—“ He rubs the lip of his beer bottle to his own bottom lip. Eyes glossing over, remembering. “They were going to hurt Robin,” he states, his own voice like gravel, “and Dustin. And little Erica. So I did the stupid thing. Answered their interrogation. They didn’t like the answers; I earned a few punches. Went unconscious. Got hit with some truth serum drug bullshit. Threw up my guts, ended up with a concussion, saw a guy die in front of me, went home and threw up again in the shower, and then I went to bed.”

All at once, the world narrows to just them. Hopper’s completely silent though and Steve doesn’t want to glance over. See the pity written on his sullen, aged face. So he shrugs, takes another swig of his beer, and burps lightly when the carbonation comes up. Nonchalance. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Right, Hop?” Steve pokes quietly. “Throw myself in danger for the people around me. Try to keep them on my good side. Show them I’m worth giving a shit about. Save ‘em. Love ‘em for a bit. Wait until they turn on me or whatever.

“I know you do it, too. So don’t try to lecture me,” Steve mutters, “At least we don’t have to do it again.”

He’s not sure what to really expect to any of that. But he doesn’t think he’d ever expect a firm, heavy arm to wrap around his shoulders. To tug him in close and warm. To hold him gently.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper murmurs.

Steve tries to pull away, but the hand on his opposite bicep squeezes him back. “It’s not your fault, Hop. It’s—“

“You’re a kid, Steve,” he emphasizes. “A kid with a long fucking life ahead of you. And you’ve already seen enough for, well, for lifetimes. You should’a never been in any of this shit, none of you teens should’a. Not just those Russians, Steve. But for everything.”

He doesn’t feel like a kid. Doesn’t really feel like anything, but Hopper doesn’t need to know that right now. Sure, he’d understand. That liminal space after losing his daughter, right after war, before his world quite literally turned upside down—Hopper lived that nothingness for a long while. Maybe he lives it again, Steve isn’t sure.

But he just sighs. “You shouldn’t have been there, either,” Steve murmurs. His face is warm and his eyes sting. And before he really knows what’s happening, he’s crying. Hot tears that sear all the way down to the underside of his jaw. That don’t really produce much noise from him, but he supposes the terrible stuttering in and out is something.

“C’mere, kid,” Hopper mutters.

His beer gets set aside somewhere. Pulled even further in. Head nestled on Hopper’s shoulder, the fresh shave of his beard burning on Steve’s forehead. A hand between his shoulder blades and the other on the back of his head. Steve’s arms sit limp at his sides. But within Hop’s warmth, the musk of aftershave and Irish Spring soap, and his firm and careful hold—Steve finally breaks.

It’s not a catastrophic thing, like he had expected. It’s not all that quiet either.

Shoulders shaking, eyes heavy, and nose burning—Steve cries. Cries with the force of a sudden summer downpour. Heaves giant breaths as if he’s just come up from drowning. And he sobs against the bare skin of Hopper’s neck. Open mouthed. Wet exhales. Big globs of spit sticky between his lips.

When he can finally catch his breath, feel the exhaustion into his bones, he pulls back.

Hopper lays his hands on either side of Steve’s face. His own cheeks wet with tears. Sniffling. “I know, okay? I know, kid,” he says quietly. “You need a home to run to? A shoulder to cry on? You just need a good dad hug? Come over, okay? Steve, you just gotta come over.”

And with that, all Steve can do, is give in.

He cries again into Hopper’s shoulder.

Later, he’ll listen to Hopper in turn. Hug him just as fiercely. Laugh at the absurdity of it all. But this is nice. Just this for a little while longer.

For the first time in his life, though, he feels like he’s got a home to return to. An ear to hear him. And a heart to care about him.

🫂—————🫂 Thank you for the ask, this was an interesting one!

#stranger things #steve harrington #jim hopper #steve harrington & jim hopper #angst and hurt/comfort

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eyes-of-nine · 7 months

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they're so childhood friends to lovers bodyguard au coded to me 😌✨ (they have killed so so many people)

#oh how i missed doing a good ol fashioned leyendecker study #and hey look IT'S THE SILLIES<3 #<- tho my lore knowledge has not improved since last time I posted about them I have in fact gotten slightly better at russian #anyways someone plss appreciate the fact that I edited all the serifs to make the font fit nicer ywy #why are cyrillic fonts so ...ehhh #and if anyone feels like summarising over 100 comic issues in my dms i would sell my soul and left kidney to you🥺👉👈#I wanna talk about them sm but also I genuinely don't really know shit #it's actually super fun highly recommend #sergey razumovsky #oleg volkov #....do they have a ship name??? I'm sure they do???? oh well #plss let's appreciate oleg for being very fun to draw too #major grom #major grom plague doctor #bubble comics #Сергей Разумовский #look look I figured out how to get cyrillic symbols on mobile easily :DD #Олег Волков #майор гром #fanart #my art #mgpd

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godsfavoritescientist · 11 months

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Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.

I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.

Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?

How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"

And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.

So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.

So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.

And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.

And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.

Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.

And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.

So you sail away in a boat together.

And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.

But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.

But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.

You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.

And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-

-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.

You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.

And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.

It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.

And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.

#succumbed to the stan twins angst visions and wrote 2000 words about this #ford pines #ford meta #this turned into a character analysis that almost reads like a fic #godswriting #<- i need to change my writing tag to this #something bothers me a little bit about the solution to their conflict being 'ford appreciates stan more now so he is now fine with-#-boat adventures with stan'. to me it leaves the initial conflict of 'he doesnt want to do that anymore' unresolved #obviously you could easily argue that ford never stopped wanting to go on boat adventures with stan and he just couldnt justify it to-#-himself when compared to the opportunity at west coast tech. but that has one less layer of conflict #compared to the possibility that he truly was not interested in boat adventures anymore. ESPECIALLY if its a manifestation of him #feeling suffocated by the whole dynamic-twins-duo thing #its normal to start wanting a little bit more space especially at that age. to want to have space to figure out who you are #the healthy thing would have been them talking about it and figuring out a compromise. like 'when ford needs space he can spend a few hours #-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and #-we still chat on the way to and from school every day and hang out at the beach on weekends'#like of fucking course it was never about hating stan or about wanting to get away from him because of who he is as a person!#he literally just wanted to have a little bit of breathing room to be his own separate person. he just didn't know how to put it into words #I really think the crux of it all was them not knowing how to navigate that balance between independence and identity while staying close #so ford misattributing/reducing that feeling to 'I dont have the exact same dream as stan anymore. why does he still have that dream. oh no #feels like a good way of giving that conflict a tangible aspect to it thats easy for the stans to point at and talk about as a way of-#-alluding to the REAL core of the conflict between them.#and of course the show never says 'they sail around the world for the rest of their lives 24/7' so it's not like it Actually Conflicts with #-my interpretation of the conflict and how it should be resolved. but since its the last thing we see happen between them when theyre given #their happy ending. I feel compelled to say 'hey I know them living in the shack together and traveling in a boat every single year sounds-#-really fun and like a satisfying ending but I think they should have a Little Bit more space from eachother than that. Hanging out almost-#-daily but not literally being in the same house and same boat for the rest of their lives. bc if stan was ok with ford asking for that-#-little bit of space and if ford didnt panic and isolate himself from everyone whenever he needs like one hour of alone time? that would-#-feel like a big piece of the puzzle fitting into place for their conflict resolution and growth as characters. to me #and I think they deserve to have all the tied-up-loose-ends and resolved-conflicts and character-growth in the world.

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