#this is totally the truth and i will accept nothing else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

threadbaresweater · 8 months

Text

in between | megumi fushiguro

You're not his girlfriend, but it's hard to deny the ache in your chest when you think of him. You're always there when he calls, but at what cost?

The details: female reader; fwb, sex with feelings, no curse au, megumi being distant and unemotional (for the most part). Aged-up Megumi (he and reader are both in their 20's). Previously posted under a different username. 3.1k words. Divider by @/cafekitsune

It’s late when Megumi calls.

The buzz of your phone against the nightstand lulls you from a dreamless sleep. You rub your eyes and squint at the screen, taking a deep breath as you decide whether or not you want to answer. You’re tired– it’s been a long week, and if you pick up the phone, you’ll be cutting into your precious sleep time. The other side of this coin is that if you don’t pick up, you’re not sure when you’ll see him or talk to him again. He’s not exactly been a predictable presence in your life, and you really do enjoy the fleeting moments he gives to you. So you accept the call, squeezing your eyes shut and yawning against the back of your hand.

“I woke you up, didn’t I?” His voice makes your spine tingle; it's hushed and raspy, and you know he’s trying not to wake his roommate by talking too loud.

“Well, yeah. It’s…” you pull your phone away and squint at the time. “... ‘s past midnight, Megumi. What else would I be doing?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I’ll let you go.”

“No, wait!” Damn it, you curse yourself. It’s clear you sound desperate, but the more you hear his breath, the more you want to feel it on your skin. You sit up and pull a pillow into your lap. “I’m up. I can’t sleep now, anyway.”

His laugh is quiet– a little bashful, a little incredulous. “You sure?”

“Totally.” I don’t know when I’ll see you again. “Give me a minute. Ten. Twenty.” You giggle and blush, swinging your feet over the side of the bed so you can shuffle to the bathroom. “Is it cold outside?”

“Not too bad, really. I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You end the call and find something comfortable to wear– nothing showy or dressy. It isn’t like you’re going anywhere public, anyway. Hair fixed into a sensible style, you spritz a little of the perfume that he’s told you he loves and grab your purse, deciding to take the stairs down to the lobby of your building.

He’s waiting in his little black car, windows down, music thumping– though not too loud. He reaches across and opens the door for you and you slip in, breathless, your heart already pounding.

“Hi,” he offers, nonchalant, almost bored. His lips curve into a little grin, and your stomach does a flip.

“Hi.” Your smile is a little more eager, but he thinks it’s cute, and he lets you know so by shaking his head, turning his eyes toward the road. “It’s nice out tonight.”

For a moment, you tune into the music on the stereo and murmur a few bars, laughing to yourself because the lyrics are so Megumi. He has a knack for choosing music that speaks to him while speaking about him at the same time, and you're always struck by how poignant the words are. There's not a particular genre that he sticks to– he's not picky. It just depends on the message of the song. The two of you have had several long discussions about what music means to you, and you always come away from them feeling like you don't know him as well as you thought you did.

Megumi is an enigma. He doesn't talk about his family or his past before you came into the picture. He tells you about all the crazy shit he does with his friends, all of his near-death experiences and places he's traveled and famous people he's met. There's a new story every time you meet up, and at some point you begin to wonder if he's telling the truth or if his life really is as insane as he makes it out to be. At just barely twenty-three, Megumi has seen and done more things than the average person will experience in an entire lifetime.

He's never met anyone like you, though. No one cuts through his defenses the way you do. No one clouds his thoughts the way you do, day in and day out. It's why he has to limit himself to only seeing you once a week, give or take. If he were to see you more often than that, he'd never be able to focus on anything else.

"You're quiet tonight," he says, reaching across to lay his hand on your thigh and give it a subtle squeeze. You roll down your window and suck in some of the fragrant, early summer air, thankful to see that he's driving further away from town tonight. There's a good amount of countryside that you've explored together, and you hope he's driving to your favorite spot. The sky is clear, temperature mild. It's the perfect night to lay a blanket out in your favorite field and stare at the stars.

"Been a long week," you say. "Work has been hell."

"Tell me about it," he encourages, making a gentle left turn onto the road you'd hoped. This one is gravel; he slows the car to avoid jostling you too much, but you don't mind. In the rear view mirror, you see a cloud of dust stirring in your path and it awakens a memory of the last time you came to this spot. You squeeze your legs together and stare out of the open window, hoping that tonight will be another for the memory books.

You tell him about work, about your shitty coworker who got caught stealing money from the bank deposits and threw a giant tantrum on her way out the door. About the lawsuit she threatened and the line of customers that was more concerned with the time they'd waited than the resulting drama from the discovery. By the time you're finished, he hasn't said a word, but he slows the car once he crests the top of a familiar hill and comes to a stop, shifting into park. The rumble of the gravel road stops, and the resulting silence feels too loud for a few seconds. The song changes, and he hums the melody, his arm hanging loosely out the window, fingers drumming on the side of the car.

"I remembered you liked it up here." He's quiet tonight, too. There's something on his mind, but you don't want to pry. Megumi will talk when he wants to and not a second before. So you nod and hum in agreement, hopping out of the car. You circle around to the back and knock on the trunk; he opens it with the press of a button and kills the engine but leaves the radio playing. The music is an important part of his night with you.

You pull the blanket from the trunk and toss it over your shoulder. Megumi meets you and steps close, fingertips grazing your hips while his eyes adjust to the darkness. Your heart jumps when his scent surrounds you, and you find yourself stepping closer as if you're somehow magnetized to him, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

"Hi," you breathe, lips slightly parted, anticipating his next move.

"Let's walk," he says, threading his fingers between yours and stepping off into the tall grass. You don't move far from the car before you stop, declaring that this is the perfect spot, your head tilted back toward the sky as you drink in the stars. Away from the city, they're brilliant and sparkling, and you aren't really able to fathom just how many there actually are.

Megumi thinks your eyes shine brighter than any of them, but he'd never say that out loud. He'd never forgive himself for being so unbelievably dorky by saying something romantic like that. Instead, he lifts the blanket from your shoulders and spreads it out on the dewy grass, then sits down with his long legs crossed, tugging at your hand until you crumple to the ground beside him and kick off your shoes.

"You have a knack for finding good scenery," he admits, gliding his hand back and forth over your knee, your calf, then back up to your thigh. "I like this spot a lot."

"You like small talk tonight, too," you counter, poking his shoulder, feeling impatient for his touch somewhere other than your leg. "What's going on with you? You're acting weird."

He shrugs and grabs your hand before you can reclaim it, lifting it to his lips for a kiss to the back. "I'm not allowed to miss you?"

You laugh a little, short and exasperated. "Well yeah, but just say it instead of trying to make small talk. This isn't like you."

He leans into you then, fingers trailing over your cheek, his breath cool and peppermint-scented. Your eyes flutter closed and you curl your own fingers just under the collar of his shirt, giving him a subtle tug to bring him even closer. "Fine. I missed you. But I don't now." He kisses you then, soft and pliant and achingly tender. It leaves you wanting more, but you could also kiss him just like this for the rest of your life.

"I missed you, too," you whisper when his lips fall to your neck and his tongue traces a path back upward to your jawline. His hands cup your face, fingers fanned behind your ears, guiding you so that more of your neck is exposed to his mouth.

He whispers your name and guides you to lie back just as a breeze blows through the field. It stirs his hair and he pushes it back away from his eyes before leaning against you to kiss you differently now- a little harder, a little more insistent. It's instinct for you to arch your back, hands pressing into his back to hold him in place. You find yourself at ease with Megumi more often than not– you're not afraid to give into your desires, most of which have been discovered and explored thoroughly by (and with) his hand. You've not been with many men, but Megumi has been your favorite.

It's not just about the sex, though anyone looking from the outside in might think that. It's convenient for both of you– no strings, no feelings beyond a deep friendship. Your best friend calls him your fuck-buddy, but you know it's more. Just…not as much as it takes for a full-fledged relationship. Megumi has told you that time and time again. He's satisfied with your arrangement. You are too, for the most part. You're free to date other people, free to live your own life, to finish your degree and keep your apartment tidy and keep your own hours without worrying about accommodating someone else.

When he lifts your shirt away and unclasps your bra, you wonder fleetingly what it might be like to wake up next to him. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and all coherent thought floats away on the night breeze, and you bury your fingers in his hair, crying out his name. You scramble to pull his own shirt away, claiming an unfair playing field, then drag your nails down his back as he moves over top of you, grinding his half-hard self against your thigh. You suck a mark into his neck and hear him hiss, muttering something about his roommate.

You freeze. "What?"

Nonplussed, he devours the soft skin between your breasts, one hand grabbing and pulling while the other parts your thighs, fingers pressing against the heat beneath your jeans. "They're gonna ask about the hickey."

"So?" Try as you might, you can't fight the roll of your hips when he touches you through your pants. He's good. Too good.

"They don't know about us." He kisses downward over your abdomen, nibbling at the soft flesh of your belly before biting the waist of your jeans, pulling them away from your body and nudging his nose against your hip.

"Whose fault is that?" you ask, unable to resist pushing your fingers through his hair again. "Why is it a big deal if you're sleeping with me?"

He unfastens your jeans. You let him. "'S not. Just not their business, that's all."

He's right, but it gnaws at you anyway. You grab fistfuls of his hair and tug when you feel his breath on the part of you that needs him most, and he peels your jeans away fully, dropping them into the pile of clothes at the foot of your blanket. You're completely nude and entirely vulnerable to him now. He kneels over you, bangs hanging in his face, a small smile on his kiss-swollen lips. "You alright?"

You lie. You nod, using the ball of your foot to nudge the bulge in his pants. "Need you," you say, sitting up to help him take off his pants.

Months of this, and you know exactly what he likes– how he wants to be with you, where he likes to be kissed (his neck, just below his ear) and how he likes to be touched (a heavy, reassuring hand, kneading his muscles, pulling at flesh). You know he doesn't care to receive, but he loves to give. Megumi is a generous lover, thorough and deliberate and intentional with every move, each kiss. He wasn't always; the first few times you hooked up were less than incredible, but you couldn't stay away from him. It wasn't always about the sex at first, anyway. He was easy to talk to because he didn't say much. He let you ramble without judgment and without making you feel as if you were burdening him somehow. Though he'd offer little in the way of advice or encouragement, you appreciated his quiet candor, his way of absorbing without getting emotionally involved in your woes.

You connected in a physical way, too. It was obvious the first time he kissed you, and with how fast things escalated, you knew he wouldn't be someone you could easily give up. He made it clear from the beginning that he didn't want a relationship beyond a friendship, and you agreed. You didn't need the drama of a romantic relationship, either.

When he moves inside you, you'd swear you're lifted clean off the ground. He's a perfect fit, and it never fails to take your breath away. Week after week, he brings you the most satisfying pleasure, taking his time to make sure there's not one inch of your body left untouched, un-kissed, unloved. He worships you, the way you make him feel, the way your body seems made for his. He likes to do it outside, though the car has proved hot in more ways than one when the weather isn't cooperative. You've done it in the rain though, all giggles and slippery skin and soaked hair. There's a certain trust you've built, but because you're not a regular thing, it feels special every time he calls you to meet up.

When he feels you begin to quiver, your breath fast and hot against the sharp line of his jaw, he pulls you up, away from the blanket, arms wrapped securely around your back. He shifts just enough so that he's sitting with you straddled across his lap, his cock still buried deep inside you, just at a different angle now. He pushes his thumbs under your chin and cups your cheeks, staring into your eyes with intimidating intensity. He's close– you see it in the way his jaw twitches, his eyes shine with something deep and concentrated. His lips hover close to yours, parted just slightly while you roll your hips against his, fingers knotted together at the base of his neck. You start to tell him you're coming but he licks the words out of your mouth, muffling your whimpers when you start to pulse and fall apart around him.

Megumi curses and bites down on your bottom lip, sharing his breath with you while he tugs at your hair, his other hand splayed across your lower back to push you in at just the right angle so he feels all of you. It spurns his release, too, and his typically quiet nature is betrayed with a surprised shout as he comes faster than he'd known he could. Each breath you take is punctuated with your cries, and you cling desperately to him, your entire body coursing with the aftershock of your release.

For a long time, you hold each other. You wait until your heart steadies, Megumi regulates his breathing, and he kisses your shoulder, then rubs his cheek against the sweat-slick skin of your neck. He kisses your ear, then pushes his nose against your cheek, cradling you as close as you can possibly get.

"It's hard for me…to admit that I need someone," he confesses.

You kiss the crown of his head and tug him against your chest. Though your legs still quiver, you try your best to stay like this for him. He's almost always more likely to talk after you've had sex– he feels raw and vulnerable, and he knows he can bury his secrets in your skin. You're good at giving him that, too.

"I know…I know." You stroke his back and feel him relax further until he's heavy enough to push you down onto your back.

He hovers over you, eyes searching your face. "Why do you always answer when I call?"

"I never know when I'll see you again if I don't," you admit, feeling oddly embarrassed.

"You can call me too, you know," he says, as if it's the most logical thing in the world.

You know better than to fall for it, though. He's said it before, and you've called. You've texted. You've waited and waited for him to call back, and he'll only do it on his time. So, you've learned to save yourself the embarrassment and wait for him to make a move. Is it wrong? Your best friend seems to think so.

Do you care? Nah. It makes sense for you right now. And when Megumi whispers to you how soft you are, and how right you feel, you find you can't argue with him about who calls who and who is more available at the drop of a hat.

It's not love…at least not yet. But you'll enjoy the in-between for a while.

#megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #cleaning up the google docs and found this old gem

704 notes · View notes

ozzgin · 8 months

Note

Hello, i wanted to ask you for a part 2 about the female predator from earth.

I wanted to know if you could write about the courting process with which male ? The gifts, show of power, that they are capable of producing and protect pups ... And one day reader has her first heat because before she didn't have potential mate. She's all sweet, affectionate and vulnerable, and that is total opposite of the typical female in heat who is dominant and fight her partner. How ours sexy hunters react and do ???

And expect me to soon ask a part 3 with a pregnant female 😁.

Bye, thanks for reading this.

Assuming the courting happens simultaneously I have a feeling it’d end in a bloodbath, so the harem shall be at distanced intervals for the time being.

Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons: Courting

Featuring the previous Predators (Feral, Elite, Bad Blood and Berserker) but with a more detailed description of their courting process. Time to pick your baby daddy. TW: Dubious consent again.

Part 1: Meeting

Part 2: Courting

Part 3: Mating

Feral Predator is the most respectful and approachable of the lot. After all, he’s the one that introduced you to your lost heritage. His communion with nature and tradition shapes his beliefs of sacred respect towards the opposite gender. You’re the bringer of Life and his purpose is to serve you. He enjoys impressing you with his agile hunting prowess. He has perfectly adapted to Earth and if you desire to remain here, he is the only one that can provide for you. But don’t rush to assume he wouldn’t do well anywhere else. His blood is that of noble survival, relying on raw, primitive instinct and intelligence. He is not bound to technology or modern aids, just pure skill. Your lineage will have its success guaranteed under his watch. Feral Predator is briefly taken aback upon seeing your sudden affection, but he’s quick to figure out why you’re acting like this. At this point he may know your body even better than you do. No worries, he will show you the ropes. He will lead everything.

Elite Predator would very much like to simply scoop you up and return you to Yautja Prime. Though spending the rest of his life with a resentful wife doesn’t sound too fun, so he’ll have to make an extra effort to convince you. What do you even need convincing for? Truly, it must be your human background that stops you from seeing the obvious facts. He hasn’t been ranked Elite for nothing. He’s a veteran of the battlefield and has proven his worth plenty of times. You cannot possibly find someone better when it comes to guarding and training the offspring. He’s ready to put an end to your stubbornness when he notices your abrupt neediness. This it not how it usually goes and he’s unsure of how to proceed, but maybe this will serve as the final proof that you must choose him as your partner. Do yourself a favor and accept the given truth. There’s no one else for you.

The fugitive Bad Blood isn’t one to care much for approvals. Or morals, for that matter. Your protests are mere foreplay to him, although a little bit of compliance every now and then wouldn’t hurt. In that case he doesn’t mind threatening you with the lives of your little human caregivers. So you can be good and agree that he’s the best choice for a partner, or he himself can help you with your reluctance. Give you a little push. Oh, don’t make that face. Your parents would’ve agreed! There’s a whole universe to explore and you’re held back by pitiful attachments to creatures that don’t even matter. Once you accept him as your mate, you won’t need anything else. That’s a promise. It’ll be you, him, and the future sucklings as proof of your bond. There’s a reason he’s managed to survive for so long all alone: he’s strong. So really, it’s better to have him on your side rather than your opponent. Especially when you’re so vulnerable.

The Berserker doesn’t need to rely on threats or persuasion. He prefers to let his raw power and aggression speak for themselves. He knows that you can tell the difference: he’s a different breed altogether, stronger and bigger. Why would you willingly settle for less, when you can have the best of the best? You wouldn’t deny your future younglings the superior genes of survival. If you become his mate, you’ve sealed your success whether on Earth or any other Planet. As much as he enjoys your feisty, stubborn side, he finds your heated clinginess an addicting stroke to his ego. Your displays of affection are borderline pathetic, but that’s fine because it’s for his eyes only. See, you have the privilege of being as vulnerable as you wish with him as your protector. So go ahead and beg for his attention. He’ll be happy to comply.

#predator #predator x reader #predator headcanons #yautja #yautja x reader #prey #monster x reader

474 notes · View notes

vicocaaisha · 18 days

Text

Love Triangle

Seong Suji x Reader x Baek Harin

Sypnosis: Two girls fighting for your love. Whom will you choose?

Warning: idk, just overrall fluff! This will have two parts! I hope you guys could wait:).

Requested & inspired by this!

“W-what?” You asked Harin. You might have misheard or misunderstood what she said, but in reality, you were just denying the truth, and your tears are about to fall.

“I said I don’t want you anymore.” Harin said, emotionless.

Were you just a toy to her?

I mean, who wouldn't want you? You were practically the school’s muse. Everyone either wants to be you or wants to be with you.

That’s why Harin felt she needed to have you as her girlfriend. For her to feel powerful that she can get anything easily, even the school’s muse would be wrapped around her fingers.

When you were hers already, she got bored fast. You were that easy to fool, there’s no point in controlling you when you were whipped for her; will do anything just to please her. Harin felt like there’s no challenge being with you, minus the suitors that you have so many. But is that even applicable when you rejected everyone because you were head over heels for Harin?

There’s nothing you can do, but to accept that she doesn’t want you anymore.

You walked out of her smoking spot, crying. You swore in your life that you would never love someone again.

And yet, here we are, again, someone has caught your eyes.

It has only been a month since you and Harin broke up. During that time someone transferred to your class, Seong Suji, the one who caught your eyes.

She’s pretty and simple, you like her. That’s why when she was getting bullied you’re always trying to protect her in a not obvious way because you knew Harin would be pissed.

You haven’t totally moved on from Harin. You truly loved her. Is it bad to have a crush on someone? They could be a distraction.

But you aren’t really that ready to date again because you felt betrayed by Harin.

So when Suji confessed her feelings, you just laughed at her… Awkwardly.

You told her that you’re not ready to be with someone again. Suji was fine with it and she said that she’ll wait until you’re ready again.

You were amused at first, almost everyone had told you that already. Suji though, she definitely did stay.

You don’t even know how she liked you to begin with. Suji’s not the person who typically would focus on love, but here she is, bothering you with her affections everyday.

Suji won’t leave your side, unless she’s doing something else. She kept meeting up with that Jaeun girl, and sometimes it makes you feel jealous. Suji reassured you that she only likes you so you just trusted her.

Right now, you were sitting under a tree with Suji. Suji has been acting weird lately though. When you asked her about it, she kept brushing it off.

“Y/N, you look so irresistible,” Suji said in a low voice.

You blushed. Lately, you have been falling for Suji too because she really is caring for you and she’s not afraid to show you that.

Suji unexpectedly held your face and turned it towards her, so now you are face to face with her. Then… She suddenly leaned it for a kiss.

You didn’t even protest, you just let her kiss you. She got too bold though, her hands were trailing down from your face to your chest, so you ended the kiss by backing out.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked her, teasingly. You then proceeded to strike her head with the notebook you have. You only intended to hurt her as a joke.

“Ouch, Y/N! You’re acting as if you didn’t like that.” Suji replied with a laugh that made you flustered. Maybe you did like it.

You and Suji were having too much fun. Harin thought to herself as she was staring at the both of you from the building’s window. Harin felt something… You didn’t even kiss throughout the relationship with her, and then you kissed Suji? How pathetic.

Suji excused herself again because she had to meet Jaeun. You tried not to mind it but deep inside you felt jealous. As you were walking down the hallway to your classroom, you unexpectedly bumped into your ex-girlfriend, Harin.

You were going to ignore her when she suddenly greeted you, “You’ve been looking good lately.” Harin smiled at you.

It has been a long time since you’ve talked to her. Well, particularly, your last conversation with her was when she told you she doesn’t want you anymore.

She smiled, the smile that captivated you. You can’t deny that you still love her because there’s something about her that you just can’t resist.

“Oh, thank you.” you answered timidly. You were going to continue walking but she asked you a question that you thought you'd never hear from her again.

“Do you want to go out with me later? Just the two of us.” she asked you seriously.

“Um… I don’t know.” you responded and quickly ran away from her. You heart was beating so fast. Deep inside you still love Harin even if she betrayed you, but Suji showed you what genuine love is like. You just don’t want to think about it, maybe Harin’s being friendly to make amends? You just want to focus on Suji since she’s in your present now.

You met Suji in front of your room’s door, she was confused as to why you were running.

“What were you running from?” Suji asked you and she got her small napkin from her pocket to wipe your sweat on your forehead.

“Nothing. Let’s go inside.” you said as if you were in a hurry, Suji noticed this.

When she looked at the hallway from where you came from, she saw Harin, her arms crossed walking towards the both of you. So that’s where you were running from.

Suji didn’t budged when you held her hand to go inside your classroom, so you left her and immediately seated on your seat.

You saw Suji walking towards the way where you came from. You face palmed and hoped she didn’t see Harin.

Well, guess what? You saw them enter the room at the same time, with noticeable tension between them. You just ignored it, don’t want to think about what happened today.

Lately, strange things have been happening. Suji is getting more clingy and clingier, you’re not complaining but seeing that your classmates were always eyeing the two of you as if they were judging your soul was very uncomfortable for you. Maybe it was too much PDA?

About Harin, she had been tailing you too. Every chance she gets to be alone with you, she’ll take it, and you know what will happen next. Suji will interrupt your conversation with your ex-girlfriend. At first, you appreciated it because you were scared of Harin. You were contemplating about it lately that Harin would like to reconnect your friendship with her or you’re just still inlove with her. That's why you think Harin wants to make amends with you.

Whatever, though. It’s getting more annoying now. Luckily, Harin stopped seeing you when you were on your own. Maybe she got tired of Suji? But when you stopped seeing Harin, you started to receive expensive gifts from her. Which Suji got jealous of and told you to reject the gifts you were receiving.

You get Suji that she likes you, but you two were not even together? How can she be angry over you receiving gifts when she’s not even officially your girlfriend?

“I don’t want you to accept gifts from Harin anymore.” Suji said as she was going to throw the gift that you received from Wooyi. Wooyi said it’s from Harin.

“No, wait. That’s mine and I want to open it.” You protested.

“No, Y/N.” Suji ignored your argument and continued to dump the gift into the garbage can.

“What’s your problem, Suji? Last time I checked we’re not even together.” You snapped at her.

“Don’t tell me you still like Harin.” Suji said as she looked you into your eyes, crossing her arms. Damn, you didn't like Harin. You still love her.

You facepalmed from the thought of it, “Maybe, I do! I don’t know. Maybe we should take a break from each other.”

You felt as if you were getting pressured over your two admirers’ affection. You fell for Suji and you still love Harin. You can’t pick and you can’t make up your mind.

Suji is the best thing you could ever ask for. She’s kind and sweet, heck, she’s not even scared to show the world that she loves you.

Harin is something else… You can’t describe it, but you sure know that you love her. Plus, she’s trying her best to win back your heart. You’ve been reading her letters…

But you can’t pick because you’re scared to trust again. You think that they’ll break your heart either way.

All you wanted to do is to be alone for a while. No Suji. No Harin.

They definitely got the memo that you wanted to be alone. They stopped bothering you, which gave you peace and the opportunity to think who do you really want? Or what does your heart wants?

Being alone made you feel so peaceful, but you kinda miss Suji’s presence and reading Harin’s love letters. You sighed, this is better at least you’re not getting pressured into picking someone… Not until…

It was late at night, you parents are on a business trip. So that means you’re alone for the rest of the week. You’re not complaining because it means more freedom!

Dingdong!

You heard your doorbell ring. That’s unusual, it’s already past 8 p.m. Who could that be? You looked at your doorbell cam through your phone.

It was Harin, holding a cake?

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You had been feeling that Harin’s actions towards you are sincere because she has never put so much effort before. Maybe you’ll hear what her say to you.

You opened the door,

“Hey, Harin. What are you doing here? It’s late already.” you asked her.

“Oh, um… Just wanted to give you this, cause you know… I’ve been missing you.” Harin said, avoiding your gaze.

You felt your phone buzz; Harin noticed it but you just turned your phone off. It must be your parents.

“Sorry, that must be my parents. Thank you for the gift, I appreciate it so much but you don’t really have to give me gifts always.” You smiled at her genuinely.

“Y/N, I want to tell you something.” Harin looked at your eyes, her stare felt so genuine. You feel like you want to trust her again.

“Yes?” You answered.

“I want to apologi–” Harin was suddenly cut off when someone shouted your name.

“Y/N!” When you looked where the sound came from, it was Suji. She’s out of breath, she must have been running. You looked at your phone to see what time it was, but you only saw that Suji had missed calling you three times.

Feeling annoyed by the situation, you only crossed your arms. “What now?”

“Don’t listen to her, she’s toying you again!” Suji said while breathing hard.

“Oh yeah? How about we tell her that you’re just Y/N to get back at me.” Harin said, her cold demeanor is back now. The one that you were so scared of.

“What?! Stop lying!” Suji said, in front of the two of you now.

“No, you stop lying.” Harin said with her soulless gaze on Suji.

Getting fed up from the situation you decided to end their nonsense bickering, “I’m tired of this!” you suddenly shouted, which caused the two girls arguing in front of you to be shocked.

“You know what? Let’s end this, I don’t want to be with any of you anymore. Let’s just stop!” You said, trying to massage your forehead with your fingers because of the stress you were feeling.

“No, no, no.”, “I’m sorry” you heard them say, but you just want to end this so bad.

“Go home, guys. I’m going to sleep. I don’t want to hear you fight outside of my home.” You said, slamming the door in front of them, leaving Harin and Suji stunned.

Months have passed, Suji and Harin did stop bothering you. Although, sometimes, you can feel their stares at you. You couldn’t care less, they’re just causing you stress. But lately, you have been feeling that they have tension between them. Like bad tension.

Anyway, a school field trip is coming up. You decided to stick with Wooyi. Ever since her grade knocked down into C, Harin started to treat her as if she she doesn’t know Wooyi. So here you are with Wooyi.

“I hope we get to be in the same room.” Wooyi said as she snuggled to your arm.

“I hope so, you’re my only close friend.” You replied. Your class is currently on a double decker bus. On the way to your field trip’s location.

When the bus arrived, the school let you roam around the place. You were with Wooyi the whole time. You can visibly see that she’s upset and jealous because Harin had replaced her with Eunbyol. You didn’t like that girl, she’s so clingy with Harin.

It makes you wonder sometimes if Harin’s fine with someone invading their personal space. Because you know Harin. When you were with her, she didn’t like physical affection. That's why you felt like being with her was restricted, you can’t cuddle or hug her.

To make things worse, you felt like Suji had already moved on from you. She’s always with Jaeun. You see them sometimes act like a couple. One time, you saw Suji feeding Jaeun with her ramen.

Well, it’s your fault anyway. You asked them to stop courting you and you basically told them to move on. Whatever.

You were walking down the aisle of the hotel, you were literally missing. The place is huge. Trying to find your way back to Wooyi, you saw Harin and Suji standing in front of each other.

You heard them talking but you can’t make out what they’re saying so you walked nearer to them, hiding behind a wall.

“She chose me.” You heard Suji say.

“Did she?” Harin retorted.

You felt like if a needle was dropped, you could hear it because of the tension they have. You tried to leave quietly so they won’t know that you overheard them.

After exploring the venue, your teacher had asked you to meet up at the garden field of the hotel. Maybe they are assigning rooms. You were hoping you’re not going to be roommates with the two people you were thinking about earlier.

You arrived there with Wooyi.

“Okay, let’s get this over with. Group yourselves into five so that you can now go to your rooms.” Your homeroom teacher said. Nobody moved.

“Go now, don’t let me group you!” Your teacher yelled, getting impatient.

Your classmates started to move. You didn’t know who to group with, if you started a group with Wooyi nobody will join the two of you because some of the group friends in your classroom are big enough.

They already formed into four groups. You were standing with Wooyi awkwardly. She doesn’t know where to go either.

When you were going to pick a group, you saw Harin’s group with four members and Suji’s group with four members also. They must have saved you a spot, you were thinking to yourself. When you look into their eyes, you can feel them pleading to join their group.

You have to pick between them now…

Go with Harin?

Go with Suji?

Hey guys! Who do you want to end up with? Also, for the next part do you want NSFW scene or just fluff?

Enjoyy!

#baek harin #pyramid game #pyramid game x reader #baek harin x reader #jang daah #jang daah x reader #sung suji #seung suji x reader #sung suji x reader #bona

350 notes · View notes

jenscx · 9 months

Text

UNDERSTAND — kim chaewon x f!reader

kim chaewon, your best friend and the girl you were in love with, was finally getting married. just not to you.

TAGS — angst, unrequited love, best friends, yn against the world, pining, this is so sad, red flag chaewon (Bad best friend!)

WORDCOUNT — 2.1k

the envelope in your trembling hands feel heavy. the closer it came towards you, the further your heart dropped. the simple words adorned across the back started to slowly choke you. a beige card resided inside, a string of words written that crushed your heart as your eyes glazed over the contents.

‘kim chaewon and kim minju requests the pleasure of your company to celebrate their marriage.’

you squeeze your eyes shut, as if this was a mere nightmare, yet the masochist part of you longs to continue reading. maybe somewhere in the invitation, there would be reasons as to why kim fucking chaewon decided to abandon you for someone else. this wasn’t the whole truth of course. you hated it, but chaewon was never the type to leave anyone. it was just difficult for you to accept the cold and harsh reality of the situation.

it was a dangerous game your head was playing, and your heart was like a marionette on strings to your mind. your phone buzzes, distracting you. messages flowing through your inbox, all full of worry by your friends. and hidden in those words of sympathy, there laid one, from chaewon.

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.17am]:

ynnie!

u got the invite?

you considered not replying, yet, the longing feelings for your best friend pushed you to type out a shaky message.

ynnie (^з^) [9.20am]:

yeah.

i’ll check my schedule

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.21am]:

huh

it’s my wedding!! take a day off

pls yn :<

when you don't reply after a minute, your phone rings with the opening of speak now by taylor swift.

“hello?”

“yn, don’t tell me you’re considering not coming to my wedding?” chaewon says, “you’re my best friend, you have to be one of the bridesmaids!”

your throat clenches up. “unnie, i can't just take a day off,” (you totally could, but it was just easier to say that instead of explaining the real reason for your absence), “and being a bridesmaid? i don’t have time for that, i’m sorry.”

and then sharply, chaewon snaps, “you don’t have time for anything.”

“are you seriously saying that?”

“yes, i am seriously saying that. when’s the last time we hung out, huh? probably in high school. you never have time for me anymore. i’m like, some meaningless stranger that you can’t care for!”

her words make your blood boil. because how could she say that? how could she just ignore all the times she brushed you off to go hang out with minju instead?

and why is she making it a big deal when you’ve never done so in the past?

“don’t say that,” you state firmly, “chaewon unnie. the more you try, the less i feel like attending. i have a life outside of high school friend groups—”

“stop calling me that!” chaewon yells.

you push the phone further from your ears, “calling you what?”

“chaewon unnie. why are you changing your nicknames for me? why are you acting like we’re nothing more than just friends?”

“more than just friends?” you ask, confused.

“we’re best friends! so, please stop being so cold and distant! i’ve know you for so long, what happened to ‘chae’ or ‘wonnie’?”

best friends. you fall silent at her words. until, another voice can be heard from chaewon’s side, one that sounds strikingly familiar with the only girl you’ve ever hated in high school.

“chae? are you on a call with someone?” kim minju’s voice shatters your heart.

“yeah, i’ll be done in a bit, maybe like half an hour?”

you make up your mind on the spot.

“chaewon unnie.”

“oh my god, i just told you to not call me—” her voice breaks and you feel a stab of guilt. a sniffle comes through the line and you can hear the frustration in her voice when she asks, “what?”

you clear your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t waver when you say slowly, “i don’t think you know me.”

“what?”

“you said that you know me. i don’t think you do.”

a relented sigh of exasperation.

“y/n, i don’t have time for this. get to the point. i need to finish up wedding stuff.”

you nod forlornly, despite chaewon not being able to see you.

“ok. i’ll end the call now. goodbye.”

“what?! wait—”

a flurry of angry messages come through once you end the call. you can’t help but laugh at the situation (and chaewon’s messages).

chae ( ̀⌄ ́) [9.37am]:

YN ANSWER UR PHONE RN

oh my god URE SO ANNOYING

istg im going to come over.

the first thing that you do after skimming through the continuous train of messages is change chaewon’s name to a simple, ‘kim chaewon’, ridding her contact of any affection.

the second thing that you do is send a message to choi yena. a friend of yours that you met through kim chaewon. maybe if you didn’t exist, choi yena would be chaewon’s best friend.

after the read appears, you hear a knock on your apartment door.

oh shit. you widen your eyes. was chaewon actually here?

cautiously, you look through the peephole, breathing out a sigh of relief when yena’s duck-like face comes into view.

“hey,” you greet after opening the door. yena’s eyes glide over the wedding invitation on your dining table.

“oh,” her smirk widens, “is that why chaewon called me screaming about you?”

you shrug. “maybe.”

“and is that why you sent me a text that you needed help?” you shrug again. “you’re lucky i was just in the neighbourhood.”

“do you not have work today?”

“nah,” yena waves you off, “boss is hyewon, remember? bro barely even comes to work herself.”

you laugh heartily, recalling high school days of when hyewon would always show up to class late, panting, sweating and zero assignments done.

“anyway, chaewon had some things to say about you,” yena turns to you, eyes narrowing, “were you actually thinking about not going to their wedding?”

“maybe. i just said that to piss chaewon off, but i really do have work that day.”

she examines your expression carefully, “and you’re not going to take a day off?” you shake your head, sighing. “if i go, it’ll only make things worse.”

yena nods and you let out a sigh of relief inwardly. she was always so understanding towards your feelings for chaewon, having been the first one to know.

“i… i think you’re making a bad choice here,” yena says after a few seconds, “i understand what you’re feeling but i think chaewon’s hurting too. is distancing yourself for the best for both of you? or only for you?”

you’re taken aback.

“unnie, my heart has been hurting for so long. what else can i do?” right as you blurt those words out, yena’s gaze softens and you dip your head down.

“okay. do what you need to do. unnie will always be here to help you.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears of gratitude.

“thank you.”

“there’s a woman downstairs demanding to meet you,” kazuha, your assistant, says, “pretty tiny, short hair and very cute but angry.”

you tense up, peeking at kazuha through your bangs, “oh.”

“do i let her up?”

you weigh the options. either ignore chaewon and probably ruin your friendship, or let her up and have a huge argument in your office.

“hm, yeah.”

“yes ma’am!” kazuha salutes and exits the room. you sigh, running your hands through your dishevelled hair, papers strewn on your desk.

deciding that it would be best to clean up a bit before chaewon arrives, you try your best to stack up the documents neatly and arrange your attire.

you could hear footsteps approaching; kazuha’s light ones with chaewon’s angry stomps trailing behind.

the door bursts open, revealing your best friend and assistant, their expressions couldn’t have been more different.

“call me when you need me,” kazuha bows and flashes her gummy smile. you shoot a grateful smile back and turn your attention to chaewon.

she’s dressed in a black spaghetti strapped dress and a random jacket thrown on top of her shoulders. you purse your lips, “what are you doing here?”

“i wouldn’t be here if you had just given me a proper response,” chaewon approaches your desk, eyes aflame.

“is this about that? i already told you, i can’t make it. the date is scheduled at the end of december. year ends are always busier for me.”

“you can’t just take one day off for me? not even for my wedding?” chaewon scoffs, “what type of friend are you?”

you freeze, fists clenched and eyes closed.

“i’m sorry that i can’t make it. this job is important to me. i’m sorry that i’m a bad friend, but i can’t live without this job,” you try to explain, the last thing that you wanted was for chaewon to fling something at you.

“so you could live without our friendship?”

“that’s not what i said. i’m saying that this is the one time i need to prioritise something over you.”

chaewon’s eyes light up in surprise, then they narrow. “this isn’t the only time you are doing so. stop lying.”

“and you haven’t either? don’t act like you’re an angel, kim chaewon,” you snap, “you always ditched me to go hang out with minju.”

“why are you always talking about the past? and for the record, i never ditched you!”

you stare at her.

“you forgot my sixteenth birthday. you forgot that i had a competition. you forgot that my mom was in the hospital and i didn’t have anyone else but you. but you never came. so don’t say that you never ditched me. because you did.”

“you aren’t the most important thing in my life. don’t act like any of that matters. i don't care about you that much.”

oh, you think, this is what true heartbreak feels like. your heart clenches painfully and your throat closes up, making you feel suffocated. your eyes are attacked by an onslaught of tears. your best friend, saying that she didn’t truly care about you? even if you were rid of your affections for chaewon, it would have still hurt.

(and you feel like you’re seventeen again, heart crushed and head ringing with chaewon’s chat open on your phone. the day she had met kim minju was the day your world came crashing down.)

chaewon’s eyes are gleaming. you’re reminded of every attribute of hers that makes her so likeable. from her smile, puffy cheeks, silly personality, you find yourself vulnerable.

“i’ve liked you ever since we became friends. even if you don’t fucking care about me. and i’m sorry if me not attending your wedding hurts your feelings. but it doesn’t matter since you don’t care about me right?” you blurt out, as if you were possessed. tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them hastily.

“what? hey, wait, what do you mean you like me?” chaewon asked, eyes widened.

“i like you. i’m in love with you,” you repeat while chaewon gapes at you.

“i… yn,” chaewon takes a step backwards, “i’m getting married.”

“i know. i just wanted to tell you anyway,” you turn away, not wanting to see the look of disgust on her face.

you both don’t say a word. the sound of the raindrops hitting the windows piercing through the silence. you hear your heart tear into two again when chaewon speaks up, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“would you have accepted? would this change anything? you’re still getting married. i just wanted to tell you the truth, so you would just understand.”

before long, the dreaded words finally come.

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.” you can’t believe you hate something about chaewon. the sympathetic look on her face, the way the pitiful words are spoken, you hate it all. a final bittersweet ending to your friendship. it’s finally over. all the yearning, painful pining and nights you’ve spent crying under your blanket. it all led up to this.

“congratulations on your marriage, chae. i hope you and minju stay happy,” you force a smile.

(i will forever love you.)

“thank you, ynnie.”

(thank you for loving me.)

#kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x reader #lesserafim #lesserafim x reader

384 notes · View notes

2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

(part 6 of November Paramedic; part 5 is here and the AO3 version is here.)

"... and the biggest problem is that I like him. I really like him! I haven't liked anyone this much since fucking high school, and that's not comparable because I never got close to those guys. Just hopeless pining from afar."

Eddie takes a step back from the dresser. The clothes in the top drawer are in disarray, and after rummaging through them twice he must accept the shirt he seeks isn't among them.

"I admit, at first it was primarily physical," he says, slamming the drawer shut and yanking open the middle drawer to search it again. This time he pulls out the incorrect items and tosses them on the floor. "He's the guardian of my spank bank – of course I wanted to sleep with him. I would've been fine with that happening once and then never seeing him again. There's nothing wrong with that. Right?"

He turns to Gareth, who's lying in an uncomfortable-looking position on Eddie's unmade bed, spinning a pencil between his fingers like it's a drumstick. Though grimacing in disgust at the spank bank-mention, he nods. Eddie nods too, punctuating their mutual agreement.

"Right. But then I just had to go and get to know him, and he just had to be the perfect man, and I had to… ugh. Catch feelings."

The middle drawer is an equally lost cause. He moves on to the bottom drawer for the second time. He knows the shirt is there and he will find it.

"So, the good news is that I'm pretty sure I'm going to snag the guy. The worst news is that I have to tell him all my secrets, or else our relationship will be built on lies. And I- ah-hah!"

Rising from his ocean of fabric, he holds the shirt aloft in triumph before donning it. It's wrinkled from having been balled up in a corner, but that's okay. The creases add to the aesthetic.

Awesome. He's washed, brushed, dressed, and he's still got – he glances at the clock – five minutes before he's supposed to leave. Some of his nerves cool at the certainty of, if nothing else, at least he won't be late.

"Where was I?"

"You have to tell him all your secrets," Gareth says.

"Yeah. I have to tell the truth without it sounding like the creepiest thing ever. Emphasize the flattering angles. Be clever about it." Yeah. Yeah! He can totally do that. Sighing, he drags both hands down his face. "I'll need to strategize. I'm going to put distance between us while I plan my next move."

"Uh huh," Gareth says, dropping the pencil and sitting up. "But, Eddie-"

"No!" Eddie foresaw Gareth disliking the 'distance' part of it all. If he had his way, Steve and Eddie would be married already, just so Gareth could rub his essential matchmaking into Eddie's face during his best man speech. "I don't want to hear your counterarguments. It's what I'll do and I don't care what you think."

"Right, yeah, sure, that's not it," Gareth says. "It's just that curious minds would like to enquire why, if you're distancing yourself, you're 1. going to see him today, and 2. wearing your seduction shirt?"

Eddie's gaze dips to his chest, and the aforementioned shirt. It's just a normal shirt! A black and yellow Anthrax shirt, to be precise. Sure, he cut up the sides and the neck because it was too small, but that's irrelevant. It's not that revealing, just airier. His clavicles are visible but you can barely see any of his torso in it, unless he bends over and the front piece sags. But he's not going to bend over today, because his jeans are too tight for that to be safe. He glares at Gareth.

"This isn't my 'seduction shirt'."

"Yes, it is."

"I don't have a seduction shirt!"

"You do. It's that one. You only wear it when you want to show off to someone."

"You're creepy for noticing that," Eddie says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gareth leans forward with a shark-like grin. "Oh, so you admit it?"

"No! It's not a seduction shirt!"

"All right, a 'manwhore shirt', then. Listen-"

"Oh, fuck you."

Eddie flounces out of the bedroom and through the living room, gathering keys and wallet on the way. Gareth follows.

"Listen. I'm not against you going out to see him-"

"I'm not seeing him, it's a group outing-"

"-pulling back now is stupid-"

"-that Max invited me to-"

"-and I think you should go all out and get your man. So I'm all for this. It's exactly what I would do."

Eddie pivots; Gareth almost crashes into him.

"Well," Eddie says, wearing a barbed smile. "I suppose that is how I know it's a bad idea."

Then he leaves for the hallway to put on his shoes. He tries simply shoving his feet into them, but the knot is too tight and he must untie them. Gareth leans on one shoulder against the hallway wall.

"Oh, ouch," he says. "You're grouchy today. Is it because I, while sloshed may I add, gave you an excellent opportunity to get your dick wet and you still returned home unfucked? You had Steve and his pouty lips and one size too small clothes on a silver platter. You were like a towel draped around him after a really intense workout, man. He looked willing to wipe the sweat off his junk with you and you still failed. That's sad."

Eddie, shoe dangling from his fingers by the laces and face schooled into new-sketchbook-bought-to-combat-art-block levels of blank, allows himself one raised but carefully unimpressed eyebrow.

"Are you finished?" he asks.

"Hm. Yeah, I think so."

"You're never beating the 'wanting to fuck Steve' allegations after this."

Gareth shrugs. "I mean, if he had a sister…"

"Jesus Christ."

Shoes mostly on, Eddie continues storming out of the apartment. He'd have slammed the door behind him if he didn't need to lock it after Gareth. He compromises by chucking the keys at Gareth and letting him lock the door (and slam it, if he so wishes).

Max is waiting for him on the front steps, skateboard by her feet and one earbud in; she pulls it out when Eddie passes her and pushes off the steps. She's dressy again today: dark jeans and a crimson shirt left unbuttoned and tied over a black camisole. And heeled boots! No more than an inch, but it's a big deal considering Eddie's never seen her in anything other than sneakers before. He's not under the delusion that it's his business to tell her what clothes to wear, but it's nice seeing her like this. Also, her being spruced up means his outfit won't be under as much scrutiny. He appreciates her for that.

Scrutinizing him, Max smirks as she says, "You're showing skin today. Nice."

Never mind, she is detestable.

"It's his seduction shirt," Gareth stage whispers, both hands circling his mouth.

Max scrunches her nose. "What's with him and seduction?"

"I think he just likes how the word sounds."

"It's not a fucking seduction shirt. Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Eddie stomps over to his car. "We're leaving now!"

Max jogs to catch up while Gareth laughingly waves them off and tells them to have fun on their dates.

He's wrong, though. There'll be nothing datelike about this outing, and Eddie's determined to make it so. However, in the end, it seems like he won't have to. Two minutes in and it's as unromantic as it'll ever be.

Why? Well.

"Okay," Robin says, flinging a lined notebook and a pen onto the diner table. "It's settled: Nancy, Jonathan, and El will all be home during July. And Argyle and the boys have their plane tickets?"

Because they're planning a mass reunion. The plat du jour may be delicious, but nothing beats the taste of vindication!

"Yeah," Steve says through a half-chewed bite of pulled pork. It should be gross, but it's not. Neither is his tongue darting out to lap the BBQ sauce from his bottom lip. Eddie takes a big enough gulp of his pop to drown himself; Steve rubs his back through the coughing fit. Having a mere thin layer of fabric between him and Steve's big hand doesn't really help, but Eddie will be the last person to admit that.

(Okay, so maybe Gareth had a minuscule point in this counteracting the 'distancing', but shhhhh… Eddie won't tell if you won't.)

"And Erica has permission to come over?" Robin asks after scribbling check marks next to most of the names.

"Uh huh," Lucas says. His mouth is also full, with fried chicken, but he has the decency to cover his mouth with a napkin as he speaks.

"Great. So, about the accommodations. You have space for the boys?"

Lucas nods. "My housemates will be home for the summer and they're fine with me having people over as long as we stay out of their rooms."

"Where will everyone sleep if the bedrooms are off-limits?" Steve asks, reaching for his glass. His arm, tee-shirt sleeve folded up and leaving the whoooooole bicep free to view, brushes against Eddie's and leaves a trail of fire in its wake. Thank God he wasn't drinking this time.

"There's a couch, Sammy has a futon we can borrow, and I've an air mattress," Lucas says, counting on his fingers. "We'll have a weeks-long sleepover in the living room."

"The boys are accounted for." Robin checks three of the names a second time. She points her pen at Max. "You will have El and Erica at your place?"

"Yeah," Max says, nibbling on an onion ring in an unusually ladylike manner. As if to counteract the daintiness, she's slumped in her seat, one foot on the upholstery and head resting against Lucas' arm. She narrows her icy blues at Eddie. "Remember that you'll have to be quiet. There'll be virgin ears on the other side of the wall."

"You're not a virgin?" Steve says over Eddie's indignant sputtering that he's not that loud, the walls aren't that thin, and exactly what has she been hearing anyway?!

Max ignores Eddie to roll her eyes at Steve. "I'm talking about Erica. Pretty sure she's still a virgin."

Steve's expression clouds over. "She better be."

Robin scoffs. "Seriously? She's sixteen."

"So?"

"So! You were slutting it up at sixteen!"

"Now, hold on." Steve shakes his finger at her. "I was with Nancy then, and we were monogamous."

"Oh, excuse me," Robin says in a phony voice. "You were slutting it up at fifteen."

"That's different!"

"Why? Because she's a girl?"

"Because it was a mistake, and I don't want her repeating it!"

They're both glaring, leaning so far toward each other over the table it looks like they're either about to kiss or duke it out. Eddie doesn't know which option is less appetizing. In their corner, Max and Lucas share a squirmy look that can only be interpreted as 'mom and dad are fighting.

Then Robin withdraws with a curt nod. Steve relaxes next to Eddie. Crisis averted, it seems. Still…

"I wish I'd been slutting it up at sixteen," Eddie says, mock-mournful, because nothing evaporates tension like a well-placed joke. It works, too; both Steve and Robin huff a chuckle.

"Tell me about it," Lucas says. Max straightens up to stare at him; he flounders. "Uh, tell me about it because I've never experienced the feeling and don't know what it's like."

Max shakes her head, but re-settles against him. And she doesn't shrug him off when his arm slips an inch closer to wrapping around her shoulders, so he's forgiven.

"Anyway," Robin says, tapping her lists. "That leaves Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. If we" – she waves the pen between her and Steve – "share a bed that leaves one bed and the sofa for the others, but it'll be cramped."

"That's why Eddie is here," Max says.

As if on command, everyone's head snaps to Eddie. He clicks his tongue.

"Exploited for lodging purposes. I should have known."

Robin frowns, contemplative. "Put someone with Eddie?"

"Yeah." Max smiles and, oh. He sees what she's doing now. "Like Steve. Then there are four in your apartment, and you two in Eddie's. You're good enough friends by now to make it work."

How nefarious. Is this a coincidence, or are she and Gareth in cahoots? Do they conspire behind his back? How dare they concoct plots to improve his life against his will!

"Max," Steve sighs, "volunteering Eddie's home like this is rude."

"He doesn't mind."

The worst thing is, it's true. He wouldn't mind. Not only would he give his skimpy shirt off his back for these people. Not only is he getting queasy green at the thought of Steve sharing close quarters with his badass and apparently Pulitzer-worthy ex, his equally badass friend whom he used to co-big brother with, and a guy who's a tall, dark California hunk with hair longer and silkier than Eddie could ever hope to achieve. Not only that, but also? Just sharing a living space with Steve 'November Paramedic' Harrington?

A dream come true.

Eddie's couch is fine to lounge on for a couple of hours, but not to sleep on a whole night. But they could share his bed. And they'd have breakfast together. Exist in each other's space. He'd find out what Steve does in his spare time. What his favorite song is, if he showers in the mornings or the evenings, how he dresses when he wants to be comfy.

It'd be amazing… and it'd completely fuck with his plan to distance himself. Honestly, he can imagine two scenarios: him falling even harder and proposing marriage and permanent cohabitation within a week, or Steve unearthing the calendar by accident, calling Eddie a stalker creep, and leaving forever. He'll have to reveal himself before that.

"Uh," he says. "We can figure it out. It's a while until they'll be here, right?"

Steve smiles softly at him; Eddie's heart gallops around his ribcage, thudding so fiercely he can feel it in his mouth, and, fuck, he's blushing down to his exposed collarbones. He might propose now. Do any of his rings fit Steve? Their hands aren't the same size.

"Yeah," Steve says. "We'll find a solution."

After lunch they drive to a nearby park, to aid their digestion with a promenade (Steve's suggestion, of course). Reminded by Robin, Eddie brings up D&D to Lucas – they discuss possible campaigns while Steve and Robin spectate. Max, her boots exchanged for Nikes, skates circles around them. Every so often she'll ride close enough to call them dorks, but mostly she keeps a wide berth, alternating between zigzags and jumps and waving like a queen when they whoop and holler at her.

And then it happens.

She's ahead of them, having reached a stone staircase. Leaping onto the railing, she slides along it like a pro. But halfway she loses her balance and falls. Slamming against the stone, she then tumbles the last steps.

They freeze, a collective breath rushing out of their lungs.

Steve reacts first, speedwalking toward Max, still on the ground. Robin is babbling that she's probably fine, that she eats shit all the time and takes it like a champ.

Max rises on wobbly legs. She stumbles, sinks back into a heap.

Steve sprints.

In an eyeblink he's reached her, skidding to a stop and dropping to his knees in front of her. By the time everyone's joined them, he's examining every inch of her by prodding and poking, even as she mutters that she's fine. She's not, though. Her clothes are dusty, her hair has come loose from her ponytail, there are scrapes on her jaw and hands, and the left knee of her jeans is torn open, bright red glistening where pale skin should be. Lucas sits behind Max, hands hovering over her shoulders. Wanting to soothe but not quite daring.

At last, after an eon has passed, Steve puffs in relief.

"No need for emergency care. Knee might be sprained," he gestures to the bloody, bruised thing, "but that should be the worst of it."

"Told you," Max mumbles, picking dirt from her palm.

Steve frowns.

"You know, this could've been prevented if you wore knee pads."

"Oh, really?" she says, mockingly exaggerated.

"Yes. And a helmet."

Max pushes out her bottom lip; it leaks more sarcasm than her leg does blood. "I thought my head was fine?"

"This time! But might not have been!" Steve exclaims.

"But it was!" she snaps, matching his volume.

"Guys, please…" Lucas says quietly; they ignore him.

"I just think you should know better by now," Steve says. "I mean, you've done this for how many years? How many times have you seen others get fucked up? How many times have I told you-"

"Oh. My. God. I get it. You think I'm irresponsible. You don't have to talk to me like I'm stupid, or a child. I'm not."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you should back that up with your actions."

"Fuck you!"

They're both screaming now. Lucas is sitting with his head in his hands. Robin has wrapped her arms around herself and is swaying to and fro in discomfort. The tension in the air is thick enough to taste. Eddie doesn't know what to say or do.

"Come on!" Steve barks. "I need to wrap your knee"

He reaches for her; she finches away and kicks at him with her good leg.

"Don't touch me! I'll walk on my own."

"You'll exacerbate your injury. I'm carrying you to my car."

"Like hell you are!"

"Max…"

"I refuse care!" She bares her teeth at him like a rabid dog. "Leave me alone!"

Steve glowers at her. His chest is heaving and his body is drawn taut, rigid with cold fury. He shoots up and marches off without another word, leaving awkwardness in his wake.

Max gets to her feet slowly, winces slipping past her clenched teeth. Lucas touches her elbow to help, but she violently shrugs him off and limps away.

Sighing, Lucas pats Eddie's back.

"C'mon, man. She'll get more pissed if we try to match her pace."

So they walk ahead, sometimes glancing back at Max and Robin, the only one allowed near her, apparently. Even then she keeps a five-foot gap between her and the human firecracker.

Steve's already by the car, with a thunderous expression and a first aid kit in hand. When Max finally arrives, he yanks open the passenger seat door for her. She sits, he cleans her wounds, and not one word is uttered. Once finished, he slams the kit shut and storms off again, stopping by a fountain some 50 yards away, hands on his hips and back toward them.

Max, face somehow even sourer, curls up in the passager seat with her arms tightly crossed. Gliding down the BMW's polished side, Lucas takes a seat right beneath her.

Robin tugs at Eddie's wrist.

"Come," she whispers. "Let's give them space."

She brings them to a bench where everyone is within their view but out of their hearing. She collapses on the wooden seat like a potato sack.

"I hate when it gets like this," she says. "Don't you?"

"Yeah." He sits beside her. "Does it happen often?"

"Not anymore. But back when the kids were actual kids, sheesh. They were easier with us than with their parents, but still. Hormones and rebellious phases. Not that we were much better. We thought we were so adult." She rolls her eyes.

"Have you known them as long as Steve?"

"No, I joined the gang a year or two late. At first, I only hung out with Steve and the occasional child, when they deigned to stick around. I'm closest with Dustin, the MIT wunderkind, and Erica, Lucas' sister, the one still stuck at home. You'll love both of them – they're so savage."

Eddie nods, worrying his lower lip. At the car, Max’s hand has slipped down for Lucas to hold, but they still seem not to be speaking. Steve is stubbornly staring at the fountain like it'll reveal all of life's secrets if he's patient enough.

"You know after our gig?" Eddie asks. "When you raced ahead and we walked and talked? We talked a lot. Overshared, really."

Robin nods. "As you do."

"Steve told me about something important that happened at your old job? He wouldn't say what, because it's about you and it's private. But I'm curious, so… ?"

She sighs while grinning fondly. "He made it sound bigger than it is. All right. So we worked this shitty summer job at a mall ice cream parlor. The uniforms were hideous. We actually had to film a local commercial for it?"

"Oh my God."

"Yeah. I think it's still circulating – I'll ask around for it. Steve will never forgive me for showing it, but it has to be seen. Anyway, it was a summer job that continued into fall. That November, it all came to an end when the mall caught on fire."

"No!" he gasps, already invested.

"Yes!" she says, waving her hands, growing theatrical. "In the middle of the day! Rush hour! There was a stampede; we were trapped in the parlor for ages. By the time we got out of the shop, the fire had spread. Smoke everywhere! I inhaled so much I passed out. Steve carried me outside and gave me CPR."

He blinks at her, jaw slack. "Holy shit. Jesus Christ."

"Yeah. I'd have died if not for him."

She shrugs as if it's nothing, merely a fun little anecdote from yesteryear. Perhaps, to her, it is. Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.

"Why didn't he tell me this? He talked about his dad being a shithead, but not this?"

"Yeah… I don't know. When it's about him, he'll happily overshare. But when it's someone else it's all 'it's not my story to tell, I need permission'. Unless he hates them – he's sooo gossipy about people he doesn't like," she says, giggling a beat before sobering again. "Anyway, I'm telling you now that it was him saving my life and keeping me alive until the actual professionals showed up with the oxygen mask."

"Wow," Eddie breathes out. He gazes over at Steve's rugged form. "He's amazing."

Robin nudges him with her elbow. "He likes you, you know."

He likes him. He likes Eddie. He likes Eddie. Eddie kind of already figured. But hearing it from Steve's best friend is still…

"Yeah," he says, ducking his head and pulling ringlets of hair in front of his face. "Not sure I'm good enough for him."

"Oh come on. Isn't that for him to decide?"

"He doesn't know yet… what I'm capable of."

"Are you kidding me?" Grabbing him by the shoulder, she forcibly turns him to look at her. "Listen: I'm judgmental and I'm not afraid to admit it. When we first met, I took one look and thought I had you pinned down. 'Check out this guy. Leather and tattoos and black black black. So hardcore and gothic-'"

"I'm not goth-"

"'-he probably thinks he's soooo tortured'. And then you turned out to be a geeky-sweet bundle of sunshine. Well done, proving me wrong. And now you're doing this?" She gently smacks his chest. "Hitting me with all your self-loathing? Get over yourself! It's not like he's perfect either. Look at him!" She points at Steve. "He's sulking!"

A fit of giggles bubbles from Eddie's throat. It's true – he is sulking. No matter how impressive or resolute he's looking, that's what he's doing. It's so ridiculous and adorable.

"Whatever you're capable of," Robin says once the laughter abates, "you deserve to be happy. He deserves it."

She sends Steve a long look of pure love. It tells Eddie everything he'd ever need to know about her, he's sure.

"Also," she continues. "I'm getting seriously sick of the pining. I know, I should be kinder because Steve endured years of me desponding over various girls, but I can't stand this."

Eddie emits a triumphant noise. "I knew it. Only a lesbian dresses like that."

Robin's chin dips to her suspenders and tartan tie. She raises her brows at him.

"You wish you had my drip."

He would have replied if he hadn't caught movement in the corner of his eye.

Max is leaving the car. Eddie observes with bated breath as she slowly hobbles over to Steve. When reaching him, he spins to face her but makes no effort to step closer. She says something. He nods, sternness carved into his features.

For a moment, they're still.

Then she sways toward him; his arms envelop her, pulling her into a full-body hug. She tucks herself under his chin while he caresses her hair.

Eddie breathes out.

"They're fine."

"'Course they are," Robin says. "Don't you fight like this with your family?"

"Yeah." Eddie chuckles. By the fountain, Steve seems to be coaxing Max into letting him give her a piggyback ride. "Guess I do."

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lenore1232, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll, @theysherobinbuckley, @freddykicksasses, @winterbuckwild, @sideblogofthcentury, @subparbrainfunction, @pemsha

------------------------------

Part 7

#steve has been on his best behavior because he's made an effort to be #and because he's older and thus wiser and chiller #but it wouldn't be steve if he didn't throw at least one bitchfit #and here it is!#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fic: november paramedic #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #stobin #lumax #my writing

989 notes · View notes

subdee · 3 months

Text

The more I think Phantom Troupe thoughts, the more I become convinced that "actually the phantom troupe wasn't responsible for the Kurta Clan massacre" is the funniest twist the manga could make, BTW.

Not in a "the Phantom Troupe did nothing wrong" kind of way (bleugh), but in a "they are a group of thieves and mass murderers but THIS PARTICULAR mass murder was someone else" kind of way.

Partially because Kurapika starts the manga SO SURE it was them, and instead of asking what evidence he had we all just accepted it.

Partially because it would be in character for what we know about Uvo for him to lie about committing mass murder to Kurapika just for the purpose of motivating him and making it a better fight.**

Partially because FOR YEARS the fandom has interpreted Chrollo's cryptic remarks when Kurapika kidnaps him and interrogates him in the car as evidence of his solipsism or his sociopathy... But what if he's being cryptic because he doesn't want to tell the truth about what happened (that the phantom troupe didn't do it), for whatever reason*** but he also knows someone on Kurapika's team can tell if he's lying? So he just says something technically true, and let's Kurapika draw his own conclusions...

But mostly because it would make some parts of the fandom real Big Mad. Haha.

Anyway, I'm going to like ...convince myself this is true if I keep this up, so just to be clear, I don't have any evidence that they didn't do it. I DO think that would be a massively funny (read: interesting, unexpected) turn for the manga to take.

**The 1999 anime actually has a similar plot point with Killua during the Hunter Exam... It's been a while but I FROM WHAT I REMEMBER Killua takes credit for killing this girl's father and fights her even though it was Illumi who killed him, just because karmically he is guilty of killing a lot of people so it's not like he's innocent in general, even if he didn't kill this particular person. And because avengers trying to get him is such a common thing that he doesn't even bother trying to explain himself to them... it's episode 11 of the 1999 anime btw if someone wants to check that I'm not totally misremembering this.

***Why would Chrollo not simply say they didn't do it, if they didn't do it? Maybe they were paid to take the blame. Maybe they have accepted blame for 10 years to bolster their rep as mass murderers and it would be weird to back out now. Maybe he doesn't think Kurapika would believe him - Melody or not - if he said they didn't do it, and he doesn't have evidence they didn't do it, so he finds it pointless to argue. There could be many reasons. But those lines in the car have been weird for a long time, I would love an explanation from Togashi for why Chrollo was such a weirdo in that scene.

#hxh #hxh meta #phantom troupe thoughts

139 notes · View notes

tbzhub · 7 months

Text

Just Go Fuck Him

Pairing: photographer!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

Summary: Hyunjae moves back into his childhood home and old feelings and memories come up.

Warnings: MDNI, reader has scars, brief mention of childhood trauma, brief mention of surgeries, flashbacks, a smidge negative self-talk, hyunjae is the rizzler, smut... creampie, pet names, yada yada

Rating / Genre: M, neighbor au, childhood crush au, fluff?, slight angst (it’s really not THAT bad), lots of pining

WC: 8K (2K+ words for the smut scenes)

Artist Note: @everynewiee Enjoy! Special thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this and giving me the best fucking commentary. You're a gem and I probably would not have posted this if you hadn't stroked my ego. Love youuuuuu. If there's a typo I'll get to it eventually

m.list tag list

The living room was quiet in its typical offputting fashion as you sat around with your parents; no one saying anything as there were no conversations to be had and nothing playing on the television since no one would pay attention anyway, a phone captivating its user as everyone sat in their respective places. Any interaction at this point would feel almost disrespectful and annoying, disrupting the usual routine of your and your parent’s day.

Your favorite place to cocoon was on the right side of the sofa, wrapped in a plush blanket while you doom-scrolled until you eventually needed to walk the dogs. This is how your days were spent since your college graduation, making your parents the only ones on the block who weren’t empty nesters. Maybe that explained why you never went out— there was no one to go out with. Everyone else seemed to blossom rapidly, moving away and starting lives too hectic to return to their childhood homes on a regular basis while you sat at home, wrapped in blankets, feeling left behind.

Feeling left behind wasn’t inherently a negative thing, though— and it wasn’t really a feeling either. Acknowledgment: that’s what you’d describe this part of your life as— the acknowledgment of being a late bloomer, the acceptance of being the last flower waiting to bloom. The last person to leave the nest, as some would say, and that fact was totally okay with you because, in truth, it was okay for you to spend your days the way you pleased. There was no reason to run out and chase after what everyone else was doing just to keep up, to avoid loneliness at the risk of getting hurt.

Maybe it wasn’t just an acknowledgment; perhaps being a flower that’s yet to bloom guaranteed safety from a world so wide with new people who didn’t know you and old people who’d changed so much that you didn’t know them at all. You certainly weren’t close with anyone that you’d grown up with, and when you’d run into them at the odd holiday party that you were forced to attend, that fact was always highlighted awkwardly and sometimes painfully. There’s something to be said about standing silently in a circle full of adults that you used to run around outside with as a child, as wild stories are passed around, and accomplishments are one upped by additional accomplishments. You’ve watched enough cliques coalesce in real time, cliques that you were a part of as a child but somehow couldn’t squeeze into as an adult… and to say the least, it gets old. Thus, you cocooned, you doom-scrolled, and you became content with the silent life you’d curated with your parents.

So the living room is as quiet as it always was, and the day would drone on as it always did, and you’d be just fine not rocking the boat until it was time to go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow.

But sometimes the boat needs to be rocked, and the loud knock that’s heard does the trick in making your mom flinch in her seat, and your father crane his neck to the rather unexpected sound.

You, on the other hand, do not react because a knock at the door— regardless of how foreign, is never for you. The shifting of your parents getting out of their seats and the creaking of the floorboards underneath their feet does nothing to pull you away from your phone because, again, no one is knocking on the door for you, and you’d never entirely inherited your nan's natural curiosity.

It’s not until your mom comes back into the living room with her head peeking out from behind the foyer wall as she calls out your name that you finally get up from your favorite spot on the couch. The action is done begrudgingly, but your mom swears someone is here to visit you, and her smile is vast, so at the very least, you would appease your mom and be polite.

The thing about people-pleasing was that you never knew where you’d end up. You could set out to be polite to some unexpected guest to appease your mother and end up staring face-to-face with your childhood fucking crush. This wasn’t hypothetical; this was actually happening, and you were currently wearing drab black sweatpants.

He says hi first, hugging you at the front door as your parents invite him in for tea, and you stand there looking like a fucking idiot troll whose soul has just left their body. Specifically, you were internally screaming as you said hello and tried not to look like you were combing through your hair with your fingers.

“It’s been so long, Hyunjae. How’s your mom?” Your mom asks as she heads into the kitchen to start the kettle, and you look down at your hands as he responds to her.

He’s still just as polite as he used to be when you were kids, and that pisses you off.

“It’s so lovely of you to visit,” you hear your dad chime in, and you want to scowl because you felt quite the opposite. Who visits someone they haven’t spoken to in well over half a decade out of the blue without even a single warning? How were you the only person put off by this rogue visitation?

“I thought you were a travel photographer. What are you doing back here?” You ask, and really, you wish you could tell him to leave because this was too much, and you could feel the memories starting to stew inside your brain. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you looked up at his ever-charming smile, and all you wanted to do was flee to your room.

“I moved back. I missed home.”

Hyunjae’s return meant your parents weren’t the only non-empty nesters anymore, which should make you feel better about yourself, but it doesn’t. It makes you feel like a child again and not in a way that should feel safe or warm and fuzzy. It makes you remember your childhood with him as your next-door neighbor. It makes you remember your childhood in general, and it makes you remember all the shenanigans that the two of you got up to together. All the silly poems and doodles you’d write about him in your journal growing up start to whisper around in your mind. All the conversations you’d have in your backyards pull to the forefront of your brain. Core memories flash like you’re watching a synopsis of your life thus far when you close your eyes after turning in for the night.

You slowly began to remember just how easy it was for you to grow attached to the boy that lived next door…

Hyunjae was a few years older than you, but he was always sweet, unlike the boys his age who lived in the neighborhood. Even in your younger years, it was his kindness that really set him apart in your mind. He was one of the few older kids who played nicely with the younger kids instead of ditching or excluding them or stealing their toys.

When you fell and scraped your knee trying to ride a bike for the very first time without any training wheels, he was quick to run inside his house to get a bandaid and a small bag of ice. He had kissed your bandaid-covered knee in hopes that it would get you to stop crying, and at the time, you thought the gesture was ludicrous; he wasn’t a mom, so there was no way that he could have the ability to wipe away someone’s pain with the simple press of his lips.

That was the day that you learned it wasn’t just mothers who held such a magical power

So you were putting effort into your looks to walk the dogs now... Nothing crazy— just making sure your hair wasn’t frizzy and that your clothes weren’t wrinkled before you left the house. You hadn’t run into Hyunjae yet, but it was bound to happen, and you wouldn’t be caught off guard when it did.

The dogs were slower than usual to round the block this afternoon, but you didn’t mind, enjoying the album you were listening to as you admired the cotton candy-like clouds dashed across the beautiful pale blue sky. For someone who spent such a massive chunk of their time indoors, you really did appreciate being outside.

Apparently Hyunjae felt the same way. You saw him outside for the first time since he came back, sitting on his front porch with a camera in his hands as he presumably took shots of the sky above. This was perfect actually. You could skitter by unnoticed. With your headphones over your ears and a fancy digital camera concealing most of his face, there should be this shared agreement that deterred one from interrupting the other for the sake of exchanging pleasantries.

As you move closer, your house getting more prominent in your field of view, you’re reminded that dogs don’t give a fuck about made-up social contracts. Yours pull on their leashes to get to Hyunjae, one barking, and that’s enough to steal the man’s attention away from snapping the shutter.

Damn. Your streak of avoidance shattered.

He smiles when he sees it’s you and waves with the most earnest expression on his face, and for a brief moment, you forget how to walk like an able-bodied person, legs feeling like mush and mind going blank as his inviting eyes settle on you and your dogs.

“One foot in front of the other. Smile like a sane person. Don’t let him sense his sheer power over you.”

You repeat the mantra in your mind as you let your dogs pull you closer to him, nearing his front porch with bated breath and a weak smile. It's those wooden steps at the entrance of his house that get you, the ones that harbored far too many sweet core memories. As you sit beside him on the landing, you can’t help but think of every single time that you’ve sat here in the past.

“Hey,” He says, wrapping his arm around you briefly in a friendly, one-armed hug before he sets his fancy digital camera far away from the dogs’ reach.

Your hello is soft and shy, but you didn’t stutter at the physical touch, so you’d consider that a small win.

“So you came home just to take pictures of the sky?”

He snorts at your question, “I already told you why…

“I got tired of the world at large. Plus, there’s more than enough beauty around here. The familiar things deserve to be photographed, too.” He admits simply– as if the sentiment is genuine common knowledge. He’s smiling down at you, and for a second, maybe it was a delusion, but you honestly felt like he was talking about you specifically.

“Watch. I’ll show you what I mean.”

He reaches out for his camera and begins to snap pictures of your dogs, petting them and scratching behind their ears. One of your dogs must secretly be a Hyunjae simp because he can capture her dopey smile perfectly.

You silently watch as he goes through the pictures, his smile widening, and he leans close to show you the one that must have tugged at his heartstrings. It’s a picture of your dog, face cradled in Hyunjae’s large hand, her eyes practically shining with glee, and she has the cutest doggy smile to match.

You giggle, face breaking into perhaps its first genuine smile in such a long time. “This is perfect. I have to show Mom. I’d love a copy if you don’t mind?”

When you look up from the camera, you notice just how close you are, invading his personal space unwittingly, and a blush rises in your cheeks as you quickly lean away to create some tangible distance.

He only hums in agreement before shutting his camera off again and making eye contact with you. “I’ll send you a copy later tonight. Has your number changed?”

When you finally get home, your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and the spring in your step is undeniable. You let the dogs off their leashes and put away your headphones before practically skipping to your bedroom.

You flop on your bed, feeling weightless and energized from the crumb of interaction... This could become a problem, an addiction— could a person become addicted to another person? Regardless of the answer, you squealed in bed, covering your face in your hands as you let every single positive emotion flood through your body. Your legs kick in the air, and you feel giddy, high on the love and infatuation of a crush a decade in the making.

Oh, you were so fucking doomed. Hyunjae needed to either move away or express his intent to marry you as soon as possible because every feeling you’d shoved down had come back in full force, plus interest.

A knock on your bedroom door makes you freeze mid-tizzy, and as the door creaks open, it's your mom’s head that peeks into your room, and the smile that graces her lips looks nearly childlike. She wanted to gossip, you could tell.

“I saw you sitting over at the Lee’s. It’s been so long since I've seen you two sit outside on his porch steps like that.” She says, and immediately, your face goes blank. Any traces of giddiness is sucked right out of you in exchange for bashfulness.

Vibe ruined. You felt so exposed.

“What? I’m happy. You two used to be so close growing up, and he was such a sweet kid. It’s just nice to see…” she trails off before finally taking the hint and leaving you alone to writhe in your newfound angst and embarrassment.

Your mom was right, though. You spent ample time on the Lee’s front porch growing up.

When everyone had gotten old enough to where the playing field was level, and the neighborhood kids could all get off the school bus together, it was common to hang out in a large group after school. Sometimes, this entailed sitting around and talking. Still, most of the time, this led to adventuring around the block and getting into what could only be labeled as dumb, child-appropriate shenanigans.

It didn’t take long for you to bow out of these afternoon activities in exchange for seclusion, sat at your front door doing your homework, reading a book, or maybe drawing. You didn’t want to partake in what everyone else was doing.

Hyunjae had been the one to start the unspoken tradition by randomly sitting on his porch one day instead of running out to play with everyone else. You noticed him outside, but your head is inside a book about horses, and frankly, what someone else did on their porch was none of your adolescent business.

But that day, he called you over, asking if you wanted to sit with him, and when you explained that you were reading a book, he was quick to respond, saying the same thing.

“We don’t have to talk. Just sit next to me.” That was his persuasive pitch, and it worked.

That day, you sat side by side on his front porch steps, one reading a picture book about horses and the other reading a Spiderman comic book. When he noticed you struggling to sound out an unfamiliar word, he broke the comfortable silence to help you.

That's how it started, the many sessions of keeping each other company on his wooden steps. That’s probably the true catalyst of your friendship, him calling you over and you obliging his request, sitting side by side on wooden steps instead of running around with the other neighborhood kids.

Gradually, this evolved from a mini reading club to you bringing art supplies over to paint together, him helping you with your math homework when it got tough, or even him simply reading a chapter of his library books to you with your head laid against his shoulder, eyes closed as you pictured the fictitious world that Hyunjae was describing to you.

The Lee’s front porch steps slowly became a second home to you, and as you both grew up, experiencing life in new and complicated ways, sometimes the only thing that helped you get by was sitting on those steps with Hyunjae by your side.

The coming days felt slow; your typical routine of couch cocooning left you unsatisfied, and you found yourself counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could walk your dogs outside. Which was silly because you were a grown adult; you didn't need to find an excuse to go out… but you did want an excuse to run into Hyunjae again.

Which again— you were a grown adult, and you could take life by the balls and knock on his front door, say hi, and invite yourself in. You weren't going to do that, but at the very least, you acknowledged that plan as a viable option: baby steps and all that.

In your defense, though, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself, and you were scared. So much has changed over the years since you’d last appropriately spoken. You had so many unanswered questions, and you felt like the elephant in the room, the elephant that you’d birthed, still hadn't been addressed… You didn’t think that you’d earned the right to rogue, unannounced visitations in the same way that Hyunjae did.

As of right now, you are settling on the waiting game. Hyunjae sent you the picture of your dog, just as he’d promised, but you haven't seen him outside since. At this point, the ball was in the universe’s court, and you hoped to be favored kindly.

Today, you decided to bring your pinning to a different location, settling on cleaning your bedroom instead of wistfully thinking about Hyunjae as you stared out your living room windows. You would give your room a real deal deep clean; organize and clean out your closet, vacuum, feather dust, wipe down your bedroom windows, and toss out anything that hadn’t been used in three years— the works.

You were moving through these tasks with music on blast, shimmying and singing along while you harbored a spray bottle in one hand and a cloth in the other. No area was safe for dirt or dust in your room. You were intent on cleaning until your room was interior design magazine-level spotless, and the next inanimate victim was your window. You pushed back the curtains and drew the blinds to reveal the dusty glass pane.

Wow, this should get done more often.

You attacked the window pane with cleaning spray and started wiping, swaying to the beat of the bass-heavy song that played through your speakers, and soon you're doing more dancing than wiping. You get lost in the song, singing into the window as if you were in a music video as you run the cleaning cloth over the glass like it was a prop.

Then you notice Hyunjae standing in his bedroom window, and you halt. How long had he stood there? How much of your theatrics had he witnessed? You remove your hand from the glass, and your face twists up in humiliation.

He crosses his arms, eyebrows arching upwards, but the rest of his expression seems impassive before he finally bursts into a fit of laughter, causing you to do the same. Your embarrassment dissipates as he claps his hands to applaud you for such a lovely showcase, and you playfully bow.

This moment wasn’t the first time that one of you has gotten caught being weird in the recesses of your bedrooms by the other, but it’s been so long that you can’t help but giggle. Some things really don’t change, and you’re glad that, at this point, getting caught by Hyujnae feels the same way as it did when you were younger. No judgment, just a short shock of embarrassment followed by playfulness and laughter shared between good friends.

Hyunjae’s been back home for over a month now, and you were still… dragging your feet when it came to acknowledging the obvious. You were being stubborn, and you were starting to annoy your mother. She, so badly, wanted to play matchmaker. Yet, you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction, insisting for the nth time that you did not like Hyunjae and that he did not like you. She’d roll her eyes and drop the matter, but she always muttered something under her breath. Then you’d act like you didn't hear, just like she’d act like you hadn’t spewed such a bald-faced lie.

You did like him, though. You more than liked him, and that’s what startled you most. To want someone in so many ways... The concept was so new to you, and Hyunjae made pining over him refreshing.

There were parts of it that were innocent and parts that felt like carnal desire. You wanted to talk to Hyunjae every day like you used to— to spend time with him every day, just like when you were kids. There was this familiarity in his presence that was soothing, and yet most days, he left you feeling drunk off the feelings and needs that you’d developed for him.

He was sweet, and he made you laugh, but at his baseline? Hyunjae was a flirt that left you flustered all the time.

It’s the looks he gives you, the curve at the corner of his lips when he’d notice you short-circuit from one of his sly compliments, or the intense eye contact he’d give you while you spoke. It was the way he’d playfully nudge you as you sat beside him on his porch steps, and it was most definitely the cheeky smile he'd flash at you when he was jogging around the block with his shirt off. With all of that, you were starting to look at him differently, and you found yourself appreciating him in ways that you’d never paid attention to before.

When had he gotten so irresistibly attractive? Has he always been this undeniably sexy?

He’d gotten stronger, bulkier. It only took a few shameless glances in his direction while he was outside, gearing up for a run, to notice just how toned he was. His back muscles were lean. His arms looked so firm… like he could protect you with them or wrap them around you as he drilled nothing but raw pleasure into your body. The thought alone made you shiver, and it was becoming damn near impossible to look at him in a friendly way. Exceptionally not with his lips so perfectly crafted. He had lips that could easily hypnotize you— and they did often. You’d try your hardest to focus on his words just to fantasize about how sweet and kissable his lips were.

Right now, you were stuck between reality and a daydream as you stood outside listening to Hyunjae speak. You’d crossed paths as he was coming in from a late evening jog, and you were heading out to walk the dogs. You watched the way his tongue ran along his bottom lip slowly, and then your eyes began to trail down past his bare chest. Before you could fall deeper into your thoughts, heat spread across your chin, and your face got tilted upward for you to meet Hyunjae’s gaze.

“Like what you see?” He guesses, calling you out playfully, and your reaction time is slow to it all.

You barely register getting caught as you focus on the sudden physical contact, the way his hand cups your chin firmly, and the warmth that his fingers provide to your skin. His touch lingers as you stare up at him with a facial expression displaying nothing but need. How could such a simple gesture cause you to buckle so intensely? If you tried to speak right away, you might let out a moan.

You have to take a step back to regain your composure, and your hand tightens around the leash that you're holding.

Fuck.

For a moment, you’d even forgotten all about your dogs. They needed a walk, and here you were eye fucking Hyunjae outside his childhood home. Your words are mumbled and short as you try to slink away, stepping to the side to get around him on the sidewalk.

“My bad.”

That’s all you could say. It was the lamest thing to come out of your mouth in a while, but your dogs could be your escape from such an awkward situation.

His hand grabs your wrist, though, stopping you from completing one of your little vanishing acts. You can barely hear him over your rapidly beating heart. All you can make out is that he’ll text you when to come over, and there's something else about going for a drive.

Hyunjae kept taking casual side glances your way while you sat together in his car. No one was talking, and you could tell he was gearing up to say something ridiculous. The smirk that graced his mouth was your leading indicator, and the suspense killed you. The lull in your conversation only heightened your anticipation as you tried to relax into the passenger seat, sitting silently and with thick tension.

“You never answered my question, you know.” His words come out so nonchalant that you nearly misunderstand him.

But you could play coy, too, so you take a long sip from your drink to keep him waiting.

“Hm?”

The eye roll he gives you is comical and dramatic, and he feigns offense as his hand covers his heart.

“You forgot that fast? Wow, dude. Check me out, and then forget all about it. I feel used.” Even as the words pass his lips, he’s smiling, his eyes creasing, and the rise of his cheekbones are very telling. Hyunjae just loved to see you squirm in the hot seat.

“I don’t know what— did you just call me dude?” His phrasing finally registers, and you scoff. Was this a date, or did you just get painfully friendzoned?

His eyebrows quirk upward, and the smirk along his lips turns devilish momentarily as he hums, eyes intently on your own.

“I’m sorry. Would you prefer something more forward? I could call you baby… there's also babe, angel, sunshine. Buttercup if we’re feeling frisky. Darling is a favorite of mine, but anything’s on the table, really.”

Your nose scrunches up at his blatant teasing. The man was straight up toying with your emotions. “Just f-forget about it.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.”

His words bounce around the car before striking straight through you. The cup in your hand clatters clumsily into its holder as you drop it.

So much for keeping it cool.

“Ooooh, so that’s the one. I’ll remember that.” He says through a chuckle and a smug grin as he reclines further in his seat.

“You know you didn’t have to bring me all the way out here to tease me. You were doing a pretty good job from the comfort of your own home.”

You tried to sound dry and aloof, but you started to buzz with anticipation. The feelings that you’d kept hidden, albeit poorly, would be pushed and prodded to the surface, thanks to Hyunjae and his charming smile.

“That’s not why I brought you out here. I actually wanted to talk. I’ve missed you.” He admits, reaching out to touch your shoulder tenderly.

“Hyunjae. We’re neighbors. You see me every day.” You assert, facial expression going deadpan as you stare back at his unwavering flirtatious gaze.

He sighs at that, mind seeming to go to a faraway place before he speaks up again.

“It’s more than that. I miss how close we used to be. We haven’t hung out alone like this since the summer before my senior year of high school. It feels like decades have passed and…

“It felt like it happened out of nowhere. It was like one day, we were close. I’d say we were best friends, and then the next day, you woke up and decided that wasn’t the case anymore. Why? What did I do?”

There was a gleam of hurt in his eyes that caused your bottom lip to jut out as guilt struck you. Hyunjae was right. You were close. He was your favorite person, and you were his. He was ever-present throughout much of your life, and then you ghosted him. You could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed, and you’d decided to stop being his friend.

You were a teenager riddled with insecurities, and instead of talking to him about it— or talking to anyone for that matter, you’d made the conscious decision to become reclusive. You thought that you needed to detach from someone that you, for the longest time, considered was your one and only gift from the universe growing up.

You purse your lips together before opening your mouth to speak, but doubt settles and seeps into your bones. “I don’t know how to explain this without sounding dumb.”

Hyunjae shrugs, “Just say it. Dumb or not. We’ll piece everything together as a team.”

His eyes were soft, and his hand went to rest on your knee, giving you all the comfort and safety that you needed to explain yourself.

“Um… obviously, I have a crush on you, right? Like, let’s move past that fact fast.” You pause to read Hyunjae’s reaction, but he only gives you a small smile while his hand reaches for yours, lacing his fingers through your own.

“A-and… I guess I knew that even back then. I mean, yeah. I had a huge fucking crush on you back then. Oh god, it was bad. It's just as bad as it is now, honestly. But when we were in high school, I started developing all these insecurities. I started noticing that other girls looked different from me. They didn’t grow up getting used to the hospital like I did. They didn’t have these long surgical scars on their legs like mine. You remember that part of my life, right? Your mom let you visit me after my first surgery when I was super young.”

Somewhere along the way, you shifted in your seat to stare out the window as you spoke, unable to hold eye contact and show vulnerability simultaneously.

“I didn’t realize it then because I was so young… I just wanted to feel better, but my body was branded with all this trauma. The scars on my thighs documented it all. It was hard going to gym class. The locker room was awful; I’d feel so insecure, and then I’d have to think about you constantly. All the girls knew you, and they’d talk about how hot you were. All. The. Time. And because I was your best friend, they’d ask me about you all the time. I was ‘popular’ but only because they wanted something from me. I couldn’t deal with it. All these beautiful girls with perfect, flawless skin constantly asked me about the guy that I’d liked for so long.

“I could not deal with another school year being seen only as the gateway to Hyunjae. I spent that summer in my room crying and wishing that things were different. That I was different, that I'd wake up and these scars would be gone. That I could finally get the guy that I’d wanted for so long… Obviously, that never happened. So I thought that if I put you and our friendship behind me, maybe I could, at the very least, move on because why would a guy like you want someone so far from perfect.”

You did it. Hyunjae is finally caught up and no longer left in the dark. All that was left to do now was listen to his response. You feel firm hands grab at your waist, and you're awkwardly pulled out of your seat until you're straddling Hyunjae’s lap.

“Thank you for sharing all of this with me, but… is that what you really think? That I wouldn’t want you because of something like that?” He’s looking up at you with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and all you can do is nod meekly.

“I hate that, you know. I hate knowing that you spent an entire summer crying, and I was right next door, and I didn’t know.” His hands fall to your thighs, squishing them in his hold gently as he processes all of this information.

“I can’t even joke about how down bad we’ve been for each other because right now I’m shocked.” He goes on, sighing heavily before chewing on his bottom lip.

“My mom raised me right. I can reassure you that I would never care about something like that. I know, all too well, how to appreciate and treat a good woman. You’ve always been beautiful to me, and you’ll continue to be. Always. No matter what. Those parts of you are gorgeous, too, because they’re a part of the bigger, breathtaking picture.

“I don’t want to miss out on any more time, okay?”

Before you can grace him with a response, his lips are on yours, and his hand is pressed against your back as he pushes your body closer to his.

It was the kind of kiss that made you realize just how lonely you’d been. Urgency and desire ran straight through your veins to pool at your center, and you felt like you were melting into the man below you. You could stay like this forever, straddling Hyunjae’s hips while your tongue collided beautifully with his. He kissed you like a thirsty man dying for a drink. Faint gasps leave your chest whenever he pulls away to breathe to dive back in and fuse his mouth with yours again.

So this is how Hyunjae’s lips feel. This is how it feels to be kissed by him.

You both become lost in the kiss, and his hands begin to roam. Warmth spreads across your lower back as one of Hyunjae’s hands snakes its way underneath your shirt to caress your skin, and a shiver flows up your spine. Your fingers tangle into his hair, anchoring yourself to this moment as your hips roll. That’s when you feel it.

“Oh.” You breathe out.

The tent in his pants nudges against you perfectly as you're coaxed into a steady grind by the firm hand pressed along your back.

“Feel good?” He asks, pulling away to look up at you with glossy lips and messy hair. Your nod is an eager one as you try to lean down, eyes closing as you search for his lips again while Hyunjae leans into you, pressing kisses to your neck instead.

You feel his free hand creep up to your thighs as you continue to chase after the friction his crotch provides. Your skirt slowly becomes bunched up, cool air hitting your thighs, and you freeze, shyness and insecurity washing over you.

“J-jae…” You stutter out in a whisper, grabbing his face in your hand to stop him from looking down.

There’s a look of understanding on his face, but you also see a glint of something else in his eyes. “Wanna come back to my place, Sweetheart? I can think of some ways to help you get comfortable.”

As promised, Hyunjae made you feel safe and comfortable. He asked for permission before peeling a new article of clothing away from your body each time. He litters soothing touches and gentle kisses to any freshly exposed skin as he gets you undressed fully. When you’re completely bare, he’s keen to comfort you, making a point of looking you in the eyes before sneaking a glance down to your chest briefly.

“Just focus on me, okay?” He says, voice as soft as cotton while his hand comes up to stroke the side of your face sweetly.

He leans back to take off his shirt, and even though you’ve seen him shirtless more than a handful of times, you can’t help the whine that leaves you. Your eyes trail down his toned torso and settle expectantly on his hands that fiddle with his jeans. You were about to learn something new about Hyunjae, and you were paying very close attention.

He was big, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip to stop the moan that tries to punch out of you. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest as you stare blatantly at every part of him before your wide eyes finally lift to meet his gaze.

“It’ll fit.” He reassures smugly, and you roll your eyes at that.

“When did you get so cocky?” You sass through a tease as you're pushed backward onto his bedsheets.

“Don’t be jealous, Sweetheart. You’ll be full of cock soon.” He tosses back, causing you to shudder.

He hovers above you for a moment, caging your body in between his strong arms as he looks down at you with fondness in his gaze while he admires your beauty. He leans down to kiss you on the lips before moving down your body.

His lips press against every part of your body on his trek down your chest and past your stomach. When he gets to your thighs, he takes his time, closing his eyes as he kisses every spot, running his tongue along the blemishes that make you doubt yourself. He alternates his love and affection as he slots himself between your legs, nipping at one thigh before pressing a wet kiss to the other.

You feel weightless already. There's not an ounce of nervousness in your body as Hyunjae worships the parts of you that you thought you disliked the most. You felt cared for, cherished, and like you were the most enticing person in the world. The tingling sensations travel closer and closer to the apex between your thighs until you let out a gasp that quickly morphs into a whimper.

“Jae—

You're cut off by a moan as Hyunjae’s tongue swipes up your wetness in one languid motion, causing a jolt of pleasure to dash through your body. He hums into your pussy as he runs his tongue from side to side, parting your folds and tasting you hungrily before he slots your clit between his lips. You lurch forward, and he reaches one arm up to press you back into the bed, resting his hand on your stomach. He pushes your thighs farther apart with his free hand; his grip is tight around your thigh while he buries his face further into your pussy, tongue unrelenting as he sucks on your clit in tandem with the flicks of the wet muscle.

You didn’t know how to move through life after experiencing something life-altering like this. Hyunjae’s mouth made you feel unreal. His tongue could easily be labeled the 8th wonder of the world. All you could do was softly moan his name like you were reciting a prayer as he worked you over.

The bed dips as he shifts his positioning, stopping his ministrations for a minute, and when you look down, you notice just how drenched his chin is because of you, and you shyly close your legs.

“Y-you don’t have to contin—

He cuts you off by forcing your legs apart and looking up at you purposely while he settles between your thighs again.

“Why would you deny yourself something we both know you want?” He challenges, tongue sticking out to ghost over your glistening pussy, and the delicate warmth that the barely-there touch provides is enough to have you whining in need. You push his head back down, hoping he’ll just shut up and go back to town. He does, but not without having the last word.

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, words slurred as he tries to talk between sloppy licks. His tongue remains flat as he laps at your pussy to make you fall apart.

When you seem close, with moans flowing out of you ceaselessly, he sinks into you, tongue massaging your spasming walls as he fucks you with his mouth, and that’s all you need. Your face grows hot, and you start to quiver; your thighs begin to falter, and Hyunjae has to hold them steady with his large hands as your orgasm swallows you whole.

“Oh FUCK.”

You will never be the same. Your body throbs with pleasure, and you shake through the most powerful feeling that you’ve ever encountered in your life. You’re speaking only in incoherent babbles as Hyunjae continues to tongue fuck you until the sensation is far too much for your pussy, and you have to push him away. You look up at him breathlessly, eyes unable to stay open for more than a few seconds at a time as you come down from such an intense finish.

“God bless you, Hyunjae.” You finally say, still twitching from your nerves getting lit on fire.

“I take it I did pretty good, hm?” He points out with the cockiest grin while he wipes his chin, coating the back of his hand in your essence. His eyes drift away from your face to check you out, and his face melts into a genuine smile.

“Your body is perfect to me, by the way. Every single part of it. Every minor detail.” He reassures, voice coated in sincerity as he trails his hand along your thigh, thumb running across a faded scar.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you turn your face away from him, with a blush peppering your cheeks. “It’s your turn…” You add, letting your legs fall open for him.

“Our turn,” He corrects as he turns your face to look up at him.

“You ready, Sweetheart?” He asks while he hovers above you, and you can feel how warm and heavy he is against you, prompting you to nod your head yes.

Hyunjae sheathes himself inside you slowly, causing you to groan blissfully as your eyes fall closed. He feels so good. The stretch is just right, and as he buries himself deep inside you, it’s like you’re being split open, but in the best way. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you adjust to his girth and length. When you finally open your eyes, you're met with the sight of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen trying his hardest to hold himself together.

“You okay, Darling?” You ask in a teasing whisper while you take in Hyunjae’s state. He looks tense, his teeth are abusing his bottom lip, and for shits and giggles, you clench around him and he hisses.

“You’re incredibly tight.” He says through gritted teeth before he exhales. He rears back, his eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you hear him curse under his breath.

“I-it’s like your pussy is choking my cock…” He mumbles before he leans down to kiss your neck and tries to press forward again. You hear him whimper softly, and it’s the most alluring sound you’ve ever heard, and it's all because of you.

“I feel good?”

“You feel so. Fucking. Good.” He praises through a pant.

His hips start to roll against yours as he finds a steady pace to fuck you with, and soon his bedroom is filled with a mixture of moans and skin slapping against skin. His body weight presses you further into the bedsheets, and you feel like you’re being surrounded by love and warmth as every fantasy that you’ve ever had comes true.

Hyunjae’s strong body lays flush on top of yours, and his fingers lace through yours while he rocks into you harder with precise movements. His other arm goes under your body to tilt your pelvis upward as he begins hitting you at a new angle that pulls a cry out of you. Your legs tighten around his waist, needing him closer and deeper as you’re fucked into oblivion. Each powerful thrust has you sliding up the sheets, and your pussy clamps down on him whenever his cock drags out of you. You felt stuffed, filled to the brim, and you missed him when he reared back, leaving you nearly empty for half a second at a time.

Praises were mumbled against your skin while he plunged into you. You had the best pussy. You were doing a good job; you’re taking him so well. You felt incredible. Hyunjae’s words sent you to the edge, and all you could do was gasp and moan as you came undone. Your walls flutter and spasm as you arch your back, screaming his name out for the neighborhood to hear.

“J-Jae,” you whimper, lip trembling as Hyunjae molds your body to his fat cock.

“I know, Sweetheart… Relax and enjoy it.” He coos softly, coaching you through your second orgasm.

His hips don’t slacken; they do the opposite, speeding up as he hammers the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly until something inside you snaps. You writhe underneath him, and your fingers tighten around his own as you fall into bliss. Hyunjae’s eyes are glued to your face as your mouth drops open, and a long, drawn-out groan leaves your body.

“That’s right, baby. Keep going.” He says through a grunt as he starts to chase his high.

He shifts, lifting you into his arms while his cock stays buried inside you. You're positioned upright, body going limp against his muscular thighs as he continues to drill into you, massaging your walls at a merciless pace. One large bicep stays wrapped around your waist, and his free hand snakes between you both to rub against your clit as if he could get you to cum a third time. You’re just a brainless lump of whimpers at this point as your head rests against his sweaty chest.

“I’m close, Sweetheart. I know you can do it again, come on, baby.” He pleaded, voice ragged as his thrusts turned desperate.

His moans get more prominent, and when you look up to meet his gaze, Hyunjae looks fucked out beyond belief, lips parted, and hair a disaster on top of his head. You muster up enough energy to kiss him on the lips, swallowing all his pretty noises and whimpering against his plush lips. You feel his hips stutter. Then heat spreads inside you, and you shake as he fills you with cum while you experience another earth-shattering orgasm.

You're both tired and sticky. The bed sheets are hardly halfway on the bed, twisted onto one side, but neither of you seems to care. You collapse onto the bare mattress with Hyunjae’s cock still hidden inside you. When he finally pulls out, your dripping pussy adds to the mess on his bed. He lays down beside you, immediately pulling you in for a cuddle.

“You’re going to stay here, right?” He asks, looking down at you with a hopeful gleam.

“Of course. Even if I wanted to go home, I couldn’t deal with a walk of shame right now. My legs don’t work. I’ll leave tomorrow afternoon when I have to walk the dogs.” You answer through a giggle.

#kvanity #lee hyunjae imagines #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz smut #lee hyunjae fic #lee hyunjae smut #the boyz imagines #tbz smut #tbz x reader #tbz drabbles #tbz imagines #tbz hyunjae #hyunjae smut

295 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for being friends with someone my roommate didnt like?

ok this might be long but here we go. Last semester I had a roommate who I liked pretty well, and we had a mutual friend, H. At some point, roomie got mad at h because h had apparently outed someone as schizophrenic.

H is not exactly anti-weed, but she is very adamantly against it for herself and anyone else at risk of psychological complications from it. My roomie was smoking with someone who h knew to be schizophrenic, so h told the group that they were smoking with about her concerns. I don't really agree with the way h went about this, but I'm ashamed to admit I sort of forgot to bring it up with her.

Later, h told me that roomie was avoiding her, and we talked about her possibly apologizing and why it was something roomie was particularly sensitive to.

[I'm afraid there's something missing here, maybe something more that I did to drive roomie away. I dunno.]

Roomie began to avoid both of us, but I didn't realize that it was on purpose and I was probably forcing myself into conversations with them because of that. Eventually, roomie started to move out of our room without telling me. Somewhere towards the beginning of this, a mutual friend? of ours made a joke about them looking for a new roommate. I asked why their books were all packed up, they told me it was because they'd be taking them home for thanksgiving. I thought ok, sounds like a lie, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. I truly had no idea why they would be moving out. I gradually went a little crazy watching them sleep in another room and pack all their stuff up, all the while saying nothing to me about it. I finally asked them about it, and they told me yes, they were moving out. Problem is though I think they might've been upset about something already when I asked about it? But they said they were fine so I accepted that as the truth. Again, I dunno. I think I was rude during this interaction but sadly can't remember anything I said besides yelling maybe the start of a sentence and then cutting myself off.

They moved out the next morning. I offered to help, they asked me not to. I was really upset and, stupidly, decided to take it up with them. That evening when I asked if we could talk, they openly rolled their eyes at me. I know it's stupid and probably the most asshole-y thing in this ask, but that drove me crazy. I said some shit, I don't remember what, but part of it was that I was "disappointed" in them. I don't know what that was supposed to be but it was NOT what I wanted to say. They, understandably, were really mad. I left and, too soon, texted them an apology. They replied, not rudely, telling me they don't want any contact with me, but also said, and I'll paraphrase, that they knew h had told me some things (probably referring to the possible reasons they moved out) and [my] friend is one of the reasons [they] left because they like to lie. This really hurt me because I still have no idea what this was about.

Later on, I'm not sure how much later, I was talking to h while roomie and their friends were in the next room. h was saying some things about the situation that I thought were a little extreme. I don't totally remember the order of events but it somehow ended up that roomie was yelling at h and they said something about h "creeping on transmasc freshmen." H is a trans woman and a sophomore, we are college students. I have a vague idea of who this might be referring to, if not myself or my roomie, who I don't think identifies as transmasc, but h had led me to believe that things ended amicably with this third party.

Anyways this story doesnt totally fit the aita format but I just needed to write it all out. If you're involved in this story, please know I'm trying not to be mad abt it anymore which is why I'm submitting it here, I'm hoping to be told why i'm TA or NAH.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

69 notes · View notes

harry-sussex · 10 months

Text

The media has branded Harry and Meghan a “flop” - there’s no coming back from that reputation.

That WSJ article just made my stomach drop. I have no idea how it’s possible that things have gotten this bad. The worst part is that there’s no way up from here - only further down. Rock bottom is a challenge at this point, and it feels like they’re shooting for it every single day.

This is what they wanted? This is better? They’re happy? No fucking way, man. No fucking way. If I know anything about Harry at all - and at this point, we all know Harry a bit too well - he must be outright miserable. There’s no way this whole thing has been worth it. None whatsoever. To someone like me, this is nauseating. I hate it. I hate this. I have always hated this, I always knew that they weren’t going to live the life they thought they would after they left, I’ve been saying for three years until I’m blue in the face - and the reception I’ve gotten from Sussex fans around the world has been horrific (you guys should see some of the shit that’s come through my inbox courtesy of the squad - so much for mental health, Harry and Meghan would be ashamed of them, but I digress).

If you give even a sliver of a shit about Harry, you’ll be able to get your head out of the sand and recognize that leaving was the absolute worst thing he could have done for himself. Look at him! Directionless! Lost! Misguided! Unproductive! Not to mention paranoid, tired, isolated, and he fact that he always looks miserable.

I will say it again and again and again - it. did. not. have. to. be. this. way. 3 years in - what do they have to show for it?:

A successful commercial venture? Nope - almost nothing has come out of Archetypes or anything else, as in the article. Bill Simmons called them “fucking grifters!” If he’s willing to say it loud and proud for the media to pounce on, how many are saying it behind closed doors?

More money? Their income hinges upon content they haven’t created yet. Clearly, these companies have no trouble pulling the plug on their deals and therefore cutting off the income. (Not for nothing - the more this happens, the less money they’ll be able to say they grossed by leaving the royal family. Since this looks like a trend, at what point do they stop and say ‘I probably would have more money at my disposal if I just stuck with the Duchy of Cornwall?’)

More exposure? Yeah, I guess, but look how shitty it is all the time. This is not the kind of exposure they were looking for.

More privacy? Totally goes against everything above, but they’ve never been more vulnerable to intrusive speculation. They invite it! Encourage it! Hand their personal lives over to the media and the public on a silver platter! The only thing keeping them ‘private’ is living in a gated community - imagine how private their personal life would be if they were in a palace instead?

Better treatment from the press? The American media are vultures too. The world media has made a fortune off of their bullshit. Even the gently critical ones that tell the hard truth - like the WSJ - show that the media does not care who you are if you deserve the criticism or if your bullshit is so completely out of this world that the story writes itself. Nothing is sacred, and it’s even worse now that there’s nothing standing in between them and the press.

The opportunity to provide universal service? What the hell have they done? One single Invictus Games? The occasional event? The occasional donation? They spend more time accepting awards for doing something rather than actually doing something!

Being happier? Bullshit, man. Look at Prince Harry. He hasn’t had a genuine smile on his face in public since 2021. I could go down a rabbit hole here, but you’re blinded by adoration if you can’t recognize he’s outright miserable and a complete shell of the person he used to be. That spark is completely gone.

I could go on, but these articles are starting to pop up in legitimate news sources. We’re not talking about the National Enquirer here - this is the Wall Street Journal. A legitimate news source is reporting on the way they’re failing to meet their own standards and the standards of those who control the purse strings - and how they’re nothing without their titles. If the money is the bottom line, then they need the star power behind their HRHs to make it. They don’t have anything else worth marketing. That star power is dwindling more and more as they get closer and closer to rock bottom and as they continue to bite the hand that has always fed them. Look at this from Vanity Fair:

So much for “service is universal.” They don’t get traction for any of their charity work because they spend so much time BITCHING. The world can’t focus on their service and help support those causes because they spend so much FUCKING TIME milking their only cash cow that nobody has any idea what kinds of causes they support! In fact - I’d bet that the only causes recognized by the general public are those they SUPPORTED BY WORKING FOR THE FAMILY. This isn’t about service - it’s about clout, star power, mystique, and the aura associated with the blurred lines between royal and celebrity. The service hasn’t been part of it for a long time. They’ve wronged their ship and there’s no way to right it anymore. That ship, for lack of better term, has sailed. The world doesn’t see them as charitable - the way they were seen when they were working for the family. The world sees them as washed up crybabies who don’t have anything to offer. It’s not just a “hater” thing anymore. They’ve lost their allure and that was the only thing they had going for them. Without that allure, they’re nothing compared to the Hollywood lights.

They’ve completely fucked up. I know it, you know it, Hollywood knows it, the Royal Family knows it. Harry and Meghan are the only people on earth who haven’t figured it out. They haven’t done a single thing they planned since leaving. They’re not happier, they don’t live a more private life, they don’t have more bandwidth to do charity work, they’re not making money hand over fist, they’re not successful in their new endeavors… they’ve completely fucked up.

Harry, in particular, has completely fucked up. He gave up a life of structure, service, wealth, luxury, success, protection, guidance, family, friendship for… this? And he’s pretending that it was the best decision he ever made? Please. He fucked up, and it will continue to come back to bite him day in and day out until he learns to sit down, shut up, get some help, and hire some competent people to make shit happen for him, because clearly he cannot direct the ship on his own.

This is not how it was supposed to be - not for us as fans, nor for them after leaving. It did not have to be this way. I’d bet anything that the part of Harry who wanted this is dwindling more and more each day. Someday, he’s going to regret the whole thing. The more I see him and hear him, the more I think he’s already there. He fucked up, and I think he’s finally on his way to realizing that they have to do something to make the world interested in them beyond their association with the family. That will diminish, and then they’ll really be shit out of luck.

What a complete and utter disaster, Henry. What a mess. With all due respect, Your Royal Highness - you fucked up.

#prince Harry #Duke of sussex #Meghan Markle #Duchess of sussex #British royal family #Harry and Meghan #my post #oh I’m going to get so much shit for this lolol

208 notes · View notes

yurislilygarden · 2 months

Text

ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self-aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1

ʚїɞ Angel Dust and Husk / Part 2!

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.1k

ʚїɞ Part 1! (Lucifer and Alastor)

ʚїɞ This is WAY shorter than I would like, but I suppose that the first part was more filler-like for the au😭 May rewrite it one day ngl, am not satisfied with how this turned out but I've been at this for way too long

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch.

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

Angel Dust

Irritation, a little bit of Anger, paranoid

Angel would be mainly irritated and somewhat angry due to realizing that all his pain was technically for nothing. The treatment from Val? His life back on earth that supposedly never happened? His life generally in hell? All that pain and suffering just to entertain someone? At first, he doesn't want to accept that it never happened, that he never existed, that he was never actually alive. That he’s just a 2D character. He just can’t.

He would become paranoid after the immense stress from noticing the little butterfly flying above them from time to time came in, after all, he had no way of knowing if he himself or others were watched only when they could see the little glowing motherfucker, or maybe they could be watched even without seeing them, without their knowledge. He would be a little disappointed in himself for not noticing anything earlier, especially since they don’t know just how long have you been watching them. He'd be up for drugs way more than ever, no, he didn't want to disappoint Charlie or anyone else by fucking up the progress he'd been doing, but surely they would understand looking at the whole picture right? He’d rather go back to being blissfully unaware than knowing he's not real if it means he's gonna feel like this. He hates it. He hates you.

At least at the start.

It was soon after he became self-aware that the others realized why he was acting more strangely than normal and filled him in on what they knew, which was barely anything, to tell the truth, but it was enough to get him thinking. Were you as bad as he first thought if you did nothing but watch them the whole time? He will blame Charlie for all the better thoughts of you, but he started thinking, what if you really can't do anything but watch? He knows others have mixed thoughts about what can you do, an example being whether you can only watch, or do you choose to just watch. He's on the ‘can only watch‘ team.

His feelings were mixed for a pretty long time. On one side, he thought he should be against the small glowing thingy, but there's also the other side seeing that you do nothing to them, just watch.

(I would say that he would have a little soft spot if you reminded him of Molly, his sister, but we don’t know anything about her. I’m guessing she was nice/good since she landed in heaven, so yeah, remind him of his sister in some way and there’s a soft spot he tries to hide.)

He was really negative at first, starting out as really irritated, but with time and help from the others (mainly Charlie since she didn't want anyone in the hotel to be against you), he did get to the neutral zone, and by the time any of them meet you, he would be in the more positive neutral zone.

Husk

Anger and worry

To say he's pissed would be the understatement of the century. The moment he processed his, everyone’s, situation and the disbelief passed, he could just feel anger, because how dare someone disregard their feelings, their whole damn existence like that? Do you think that they’re some sort of clowns that are supposed to entertain you?! Like most characters, he’s disappointed in himself as well for not noticing earlier. It’s even worse when there’s others who noticed before him and didn’t say shit.

But as much as he's pissed off, there's actually the feeling of worrying just under. What does it mean for them now that they realize they're just characters in a show, that they find out something they shouldn't? Can it fuck up their life on this side? Can it fuck up the whole city or more because of this? Should they try to continue living like they don't know shit or try to communicate with you or your world? Similar to Lucifer's, his mind is a mess.

Like everyone, he hates the idea, the knowledge, of the fact that they all are just some 2D characters created to be in some sort of a show to entertain people. Did that mean that his whole past of being an Overlord didn’t happen at all? That his supposed memories of that time were fake? Could he have been free from the deal if he had an actual choice in his actions?

He would keep reminding himself all the time about their situation even if he doesn’t want to, his mind just goes there without permission. He feels his skin crawl thinking about all the time that they’ve been watched, controlled, without knowing, for who knows how long. He would be in the middle when it comes to when all of the characters became self-aware, there were some before him, but there were also some people after him.

Reader can only see what they're meant to, and the characters realize it over time, but Husk knowing it leads to him sometimes trying to catch the small glowing butterfly in his paws when he is off screen/camera for you. Which he fails at every time as his hands just phase through your small form.

The others can just occasionally see him jumping up and down trying to catch the little shit or use his wings and try to catch your small form like that just to fail every single time.

Like with everyone else, you could have a small personal favor. You would have a sort of a plus point in his mind if you turned out to like gambling or card games, he would find the idea of playing with/against you somewhat enjoyable (he would think of gambling for answers, a deal where the one who wins a round will ask a question and the other has to answer to the best of their capability).

It would take longer than most, even with the others trying to help, to get him to the neutral zone, never mind the positive one. It was hard for him to see you in any other light than negative when they had so little information on you, for all they could know, what little they had could’ve been completely wrong. So his feelings start at practically despising you, then after a longer time going into simply not caring as much, shrugging off, if you will, and that wouldn’t change too much until he meets reader personally.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

｡⋆｡˚ ʚ Taglist ɞ ˚｡⋆｡

@laundrybear413

216 notes · View notes

cemeterything · 7 months

Note

This sounds like an amazing scene. Please tell me more.

so Valentine and Reaver (tentative names, i'm still not sure i like them) are both extremely damaged people living utterly miserable lives in a pre-apocalyptic world. Valentine is a celebrity, a star soldier, a former no-name nobody orphan of the apocalypse who gained fame and fortune and success through apparent sheer good fortune, hard work, and innate charisma. but she has no identity outside of piloting. they lost their entire world as a kid when her town was destroyed, and as a result of that traumatic experience developed the belief that the only way she can ever hope to matter or be worth anything is by making a name for themself, making herself impossible to ignore, for fear of dying alone and forgotten. so they've dedicated their whole life to piloting, and sustain themself on the praise and adoration of the masses and her superiors, and have virtually no life outside of that, let alone plans or dreams for the future. she doesn't often let herself entertain her own personal desires, believing it's pointless; doesn't form connections with other people outside of the professional and transactional because they feel they have nothing else to offer. they're a shell of a person, a pretty face for the propaganda posters and a brilliant smile and shiny medal-laden uniform for the press and a machine of war to inspire the troops. and because of her single-minded total dedication to piloting, she's always first to volunteer for combat and last to accept any assistance or admit to any perceived weakness; their body is literally falling apart from pushing it too hard and hidden beneath their clothes is a patchwork of skin grafts and wounds that refuse to heal held together by glue and stitches and infection that's slowly spreading and killing them. but Valentine is determined to keep going until she drops or dies in combat, to be a martyr for the cause and for public opinion. she has nothing else.

Reaver is more or less the opposite. he's washed-up, a failure, out of time; a good soldier and a good man but a bitter, lonely, cynical wreck of a person. he was never recognized for his efforts like his peers, possessed too much candor and not enough charisma to ingratiate himself with his superiors, was well-liked but always secondary at best to those who burned brighter and were willing to compromise their principles and ethics in exchange for opportunities for advancement and promotion. he drinks too much, cares for himself too little, treats every opportunity to save lives like an obligation and every failure like an inevitability, pushes everyone away before they even get close out of fear of being hurt or abandoned again, and has generally made himself hard to love. at the same time, he's resentful, aloof and unapproachable, sneering with contempt at everyone around him and taking a certain grim satisfaction in self-sabotage and lashing out because it allows him to justify his misery. he and Valentine hate each other because he pities Valentine more than he resents them; he sees Valentine as naive, overconfident and shallow, a bright young thing that will be used til it burns, so he's cruel to her. and Valentine, in turn, is furious at Reaver for his selfish attitude, for allowing himself to descend into despair and self-loathing at the expense of potentially the entire rest of the world, for giving up the opportunity to do good and childishly railing against everyone who comes near him because he didn't get patted on the head enough for his efforts.

they absolutely loathe each other at first, because they see their worst fears in each other, their worst selves, who they could have been if things had just been a little different, and the brutal truth that they would be no better off or happier in the other's place. however, they're forced to work together and regularly be in close proximity to one another by the inexorably advancing apocalypse and budget cuts in military spending, and their bitter conflict helps to peel back the layers and walls they've built up around themselves and get them to confront how badly they've been failed and hurt by the rest of the world and begin to find solace in each other, in their shared experiences and pain and the love and comfort and hope and meaning they can offer each other.

#oc: valentine #oc: reaver #reval #you can probably see both the nge and terror influences lol

144 notes · View notes

apteryxparvus · 4 months

Text

truth beneath the spell

Pairing — Lyney / Reader

Word count — 5865

Content warning — mild cursing • idiots in love • mean pranks

Summary — For years, you and Lyney have been locked in a fierce rivalry, constantly one-upping each other. But when Lyney’s latest stunt results in the destruction of your cherished garden, revenge is the only thing on your mind.

Driven by a desperate desire to settle the score at the upcoming Fontaine Grand Gala, you devise a cunning plan — you infuse Lyney’s favorite Pate de Fruit with a potent dose of truth powder.

However, what you don’t anticipate is your plan going awry as emotions buried deep within both of you begin to surface.

“Don’t you think this is a tad bit excessive?” Mona muses, casting a lazy glance your way, as she reclines on your plush couch. She idly flips through a weathered spellbook, her once neatly tied hair cascading freely around her shoulders. “I mean, if you keep retaliating to every prank, you’ll forever be stuck in this endless all-out war.”

You huff dramatically from your spot on the floor, attention fixated on the pile of journals chaotically scattered around. “He started it first,” you retort, completely ignoring your friend’s advice.

She arches an elegant eyebrow. “And you just had to get back at him, didn't you?"

“Yes! My reputation is on the line!”

She sighs, a hint of exasperation evident in her voice, as she joins you on the carpet. "Why yes, you're totally not trying to hide—really badly at that, by the way—your extremely obvious crush on Lyney."

“No!” you deny too quickly, shoving the first heavy journal you find against Mona, catching her off guard. "Just — just, shut up and help me, or I swear to the Archons above, I will tell the Old Hag who read and misplaced her precious journal."

Mona gapes, her light blue eyes narrowing as her teasing smirk fades away from her soft face. “This is blackmail,” she declares, gaze fixated on your menacing, yet cheerful expression. “You wouldn’t dare.”

You say nothing in response, and a silence envelops the two of you, lingering in the air, broken only by the rhythmic sound of pages being flipped. Each turn feels like an eternity as you scan through the books.

“Aha!” you exclaim, eyes gleaming with triumph as you point towards a page adorned with scribbles and intricate diagrams.

Mona’s gaze shifts from skepticism to intrigue, and she leans in, studying the page with genuine interest. Her eyes flicker between you and the diagrams, and she shakes her head.

“I think that one is too much, even for your standards,” she remarks, furrowing her brows.

"What do you mean? It's perfectly acceptable!"

She looks at you, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. "You cannot just open an extradimensional portal and send him tumbling into an unknown domain! Are you out of your mind?"

"Fine, fine. I'll look for something else," you grumble, resuming your little quest. You skim over the pages with renewed determination. Each time you eagerly point towards a spell, Mona shoots you a disapproving look, shaking her head.

Finally, you stumble upon the perfect spell — one with easily obtainable ingredients and a straightward diagram and incantation. Your face lights up as Mona nods in approval.

"Mockingbird's Echo," you begin to read, your fingers delicately tracing the frayed page. "Transforms the fauna in proximity to its target into impish mimics, compelling them to emulate every gesture and vocalization in a sarcastic and mocking tone. These enchanted creatures persistently trail the subject."

"I suppose that's an interesting tactic to silence him," Mona comments with a sly smirk. “Will you need my help gathering the ingredients?”

You inspect the list of items mentioned — a generous amount of dried Tongue Grass, a combination of Swine’s Snout and Lion’s Tooth, along with century-old Mayflower bark, three purple candles, and a moon-charged Septarian.

A brief moment of contemplation passes over your features, and your eyes shift to your herb corner comfortably nestled on your windowsill.

“Perhaps you can ask Jean if she’s willing to part with one of her quality blends of Swine's Snout and Lion's Tooth."

A few days later, after Mona had successfully procured a high-quality blend of herbs from Jean — whose only response was the thinning of her lips along with a deadpan expression at the mention of your plan — you’re sitting, legs crossed, in your ritual room.

The moon bathes the room in its ethereal glow, revealing your altar, cluttered with numerous hanging smudge sticks, spell jars, and a multitude of colorful misshapen crystals and stones. The air seems to shimmer with a subtle energy, carrying whispers of ancient magic. All the necessary ingredients are neatly arranged next to you, catching the moonlight that reflects their textures and deep colors.

The silence is interrupted by the soft rustle of pages as you look over the instructions for the spell. Following the guidance, you carefully place each herb in your trusty mortar, grinding them into a fine powder. As you add the century-old Mayflower, you grimace at the memory of haggling for a cheaper price, recalling the heated argument with the pink-haired merchant. You transfer the powder to a small bowl, placing it in the center of the altar.

With a swat of your wrist, the candles next to you flicker to life, their flames dancing in response to your command. You meticulously draw several runes, ensuring each one is somewhat connected with the burning candles beside them.

Reciting the incantations, you hold the charged Septarian close to your chest. The air around you crackles with energy, the temperature growing hotter with each uttered word.

Moments later, the candles die, their flames extinguished abruptly. The room plunges into sudden darkness, and only the residual warmth and charged energy lingering in the air is left.

You let out a sigh of relief, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck, and your limbs feel heavy, as if gravity is pulling your body harder and harder to the ground.

Performing spells has always taken its toll on you, and ever since Lyney's remark about your limited mana levels — sparking the beginning of your little rivalry — you've been dedicated to surpass your own limitations, improving and strengthening your energy, determined to prove him wrong.

With a proud smile, you place the ground herbs in a small sack, expertly wrapping it with cotton twine.

“That’ll teach him,” you mumble to yourself.

Slipping the enchanted sack of herbs into Lyney's coat proves to be amusingly simple; a bribe for his familiar — a fluffy black cat with red eyes and a sly feline smirk — involving a bag of catnip and a few morsels of fatty tuna seals the deal.

"Rosseland, come here, boy," you whisper-yell, propped against the fence that separates your house from Lyney's. The cat glances at you, then at the tempting bag of catnip in your hand.

He lets out a loud meow, and you see his expression shift into one of mischief, perfectly mirroring your own. The cat trots over to you, skillfully climbing the wooden fence.

“Good boy,” you murmur as he purrs, affectionately headbutting you. You scratch behind his ear, earning a satisfied meow.

It's amusing how much Lyney's own familiar adores you; he’s constantly overjoyed to see you, and you are the only other person apart from the trio of siblings allowed to give him belly rubs.

Rosseland climbs onto your shoulders, playfully biting into your hair, anticipating the promised treats. "Yes, yes, my boy." You wave the catnip in front of his face, and his whiskers twitch happily as he takes a whiff. He gracefully jumps off you, landing on the grass. You crouch next to him. "Listen, you'll get all this — maybe even some Pate de Fruit — but on one condition." The cat perks up at the mention of his favorite jelly candy, staring at you expectantly. "I need you to place this in Lyney's coat, yeah?" you say, presenting the enchanted sachet.

Purring once more, the cat headbutts you in agreement, his long bushy tail brushing across your face. You laugh softly as you offer him the promised pieces of fatty tuna. Once he finishes the treats, you let him play with the catnip, observing him as he rolls around the grass, meowing and growling loudly.

You release a sigh. "It's a mystery how such an adorable familiar ended up with such an annoying owner like Lyney..."

The same evening, as you prepare a simple vegetable stew and savor a glass of dandelion wine for dinner, a loud, insistent knock echoes from your front door. Glancing at the oven clock, you realize the only person who would be knocking this late could only be—

"Open the door right now, or else!" Lyney yells, and you smirk at the evident frustration in his voice, his words echoed by several mocking tones.

“As if,” you mutter under your breath dismissively, ignoring his shouts. You carry on stirring the simmering mixture, checking the thickness of the stew and tenderness of the potatoes. Licking the wooden spoon, you release a contented hum, pleased with the spiciness level of your creation.

Just as you're about to turn off the stove, the room grows unbearably hot, the flame of the stove flares for a moment, and a scorching breeze envelops you. Swirling around, you brandish the wooden spoon like a weapon.

“How dare you!” you shout as Lyney materializes in your kitchen. “You just had to come and ruin my dinner, didn’t you?” You point an accusatory finger towards the now-blackened dish.

“And you really had to cast such an annoying spell on me?” he fires back, his voice mirrored by the two ravens swirling around him. You can't help but giggle at the mocking tones of the birds. Lyney only shoots you a glare, his violet eyes narrowed into slits.

"Remove this spell right now," he demands, crossing his arms.

“No,” you answer bluntly. “You trespassed into my home, scorched my floor,” you continue, pointing towards the now-charred floorboards around Lyney, “and ruined the dinner I was looking forward to the whole day.”

"And anyway, shouldn't you be the better one of us, huh? Why not get rid of the spell by yourself?" you smirk, enjoying the flush that colors his face.

Lyney stays silent for a few moments, then releases a grunt and turns around without uttering another word. The birds follow, hovering nearby. One of them pecks at his hat, and he swats the raven away, fists clenched.

You wait for the inevitable sound of your front door slamming shut, and as it does, you sink into a seat at the table. Cheeks ablaze, you hide your face in your palms, and let out a groan. "Of all the people, why did I have to develop a crush on you?"

“Barghest, Mama’s home!” you holler, your familiar dashing towards you, tail wagging. The large wolf-dog leaps into your arms, and you both tumble onto the grass, laughter bubbling out as he showers you with slobbery kisses. “Bargest, enough — enough,” you giggle through his affectionate onslaught, running a hand through his short, silky fur. “I missed you too, baby.”

"He was very obedient while you were away," Clorinde remarks, leaning against her front door. "How was your trip to Mondstadt?"

"Tiring as usual," you sigh, rubbing your temples. "Fischl roped me and Mona into yet another commission. This time, we ended up getting lost in a labyrinth-like domain… and chased off by wind spirits.”

Clorinde's laughter fills the air as she gives you a thorough once-over. Her gaze lingers on the eye bags beneath your tired eyes and the fading bruises scattered over your body.

"Go home and rest; you'll need it if you want to be at least partly presentable for the meeting this Wednesday."

Your eyes widen for a split second, and your stomach plummets—the meeting, oh shit, Fontaine Grand Gala.

In the midst of the ongoing prank war and the recent commission in Mondstadt, you had entirely forgotten about the bi-yearly gathering between the Fontaine magical society members. The last one had been absolute chaos — arguments had erupted between different factions, and neither Lady Furina’s authoritative commands nor Monsieur Neuvillette's diplomatic skills could calm anyone down.

As the cherry on top, you and Lyney ended up in an elemental brawl that echoed through the grand hall. The sizzling magic and the crackling flames did not only set a few ancient artifacts on fire but also managed to engulf a couple of innocent coats and dresses in the process.

"Maybe this time it'll be less eventful," Clorinde offers optimistically, though the subtle raise of her eyebrow suggests she's not entirely convinced. "But seriously, take care of yourself before Wednesday."

As you traverse the familiar forest path leading towards your home, accompanied by the rhythmic thud of your familiar’s heavy paws, your mind is haunted by the vivid memories of the fiasco. And you can’t help but cringe at the thought of how your fiery clash with Lyney had quickly become part of the gossip fodder of the community.

"Barghest, I am so utterly screwed.” Your companion’s ears perk up at the mention of his name as you lament. “This stupid rivalry is only fueling my crush. Am I some sort of masochist?" Barghest, of course, remains silent, but responds with a look — his red eyes slightly narrowed, as if silently calling you out on your own stupidity.

The evening air is cool, and the dimming sunlight is hidden behind the canopy of tall trees, casting a gentle shadow over the path leading to your home. As you approach, a sudden shiver runs down your spine, and goosebumps prickle your skin. Beside you, Barghest snarls, revealing his sharp fangs, his eyes aglow in an ominous red.

In the distance, you notice several small creatures circling your garden, an unsettling dark aura barely cloaking their presence.

"He wouldn't have," you whisper, unable to comprehend the scene unfolding before your eyes.

Barghest doesn't wait for your command, already leaping towards the boggards. The creatures, sensing the imminent danger, emit squeaks of terror. In panic, they release their grip on the plants they were holding, fleeing into the distance. You command your familiar to stay put as you take cautious steps towards the now disturbed spot.

The soil beneath your feet is upturned, and the once vibrant plants lie trampled and torn. There is a lingering malevolence tainting the air, intermingling with the putrid smell of sulfur.

As you lower yourself to the ground, a wave of emotion washes over you, and a few tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. Gently, your fingers trace the once vibrant, now crumpled petals of a bluebell.

Amidst the disarray, a lone tansy stands tall, slender stem unwavering against the chaos. The petite yellow blooms stand out against the aftermath.

You narrow your eyes, a simmering anger bubbling within you. The significance of the plant isn't lost on you — after all, herbology is your strongest subject. Could Lyney have intentionally left this flower as a declaration of war, knowing full well its meaning? You shake your head, dismissing the notion, but the uncertainty lingers on within you.

Barghest moves closer, his furry form leaning in, and with a gentle nudge, his wet snout presses against your cheek.

"Don't worry, we'll get back at him," you murmur soothingly into his fur.

"Try this on," Mona suggests, gently fastening a choker around your neck. The piece is adorned with a large amber gemstone, encapsulating the fossilized remains of a spider.

You run your fingers along the delicate lace of the choker, observing your reflection in the mirror. You’re elegantly dressed for the grand gala, light makeup accentuating your features. Mona had offered to help you get ready, preaching how the best revenge is appearing uncaring and looking your best.

And while you agree with Mona’s sentiment, you’ve kept your true intentions hidden from her — how you intend to make Lyney confess all his wrongdoings and embarrass him before the community.

Your friend had seemed wary upon spotting the assortment of desserts in your bag — pate de fruits, conch madeleines, and colorful macarons. But you had swiftly explained it as an apology for the previous incident. Mona had raised an eyebrow in suspicion but chose not to press further, and you had sighed internally, relieved.

There was no way in Celestia you’d disclose the fact that the fruit jelly slices — one of Lyney’s favorite snacks — were discreetly laced with a potent dose of truth powder, cleverly mixed with the sugar.

"Promise me, no arguments, no fights, and especially no more pyro brawls with Lyney.”

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping a bit. "Yes, I know," you mumble, pouting. “Chiori still shoots me icy stares whenever she passes by. The coat was apparently a family heirloom or something.”

Mona gives you a pointed look. "I know you're plotting something to avenge your garden, but promise me you'll hold off until after the gala."

Rolling your eyes, you assure her, "I'll behave, alright?” Raising your right hand dramatically, you declare, "cross my heart, Mona. I'll be the picture of perfect behavior."

A soft, monotone voice calls your name, and you turn around to find Lynette approaching. “This bow looks really cute on you,” you comment, eyes flickering to the teal accessory adorning her hair.

She responds with a quiet thanks, a delicate blush dusting her cheeks. "I should go look for Freminet. He's probably feeling overwhelmed from the party by now," she states, glancing around the bustling gala. You nod in understanding.

"Also, I would recommend not going near the punch table. A feral cat is on the loose there," she warns and you cannot help but laugh, knowing full well who she is referring to. She's been aware of her older brother’s antics since the beginning of your prank war, maintaining a neutral stance despite Lyney’s persistent attempts to enlist her help on multiple occasions.

As Lynette makes her way through the crowd, you take a moment to admire the lively atmosphere of the gala.

The grand hall, with its soaring ceiling and arched doorways, exudes an air of timeless elegance. Elaborate tapestries hang from the walls, and the polished marble floors reflect the shimmering lights above. As you walk around the room, you pass by tall columns, embellished with sophisticated carvings, depicting scenes that capture the rich history of Fontaine.

Ignoring Lynette’s warning, you decide to make your way towards the punch table, where the “feral cat” supposedly roams. As you approach, you spot the magician engaged in an animated conversation with Aether, their laughter filling the air.

Lyney, as if possessing the hearing of a wild cat, detects the sound of your approaching footsteps and swiftly turns around. He offers you a cheerful smile that doesn’t fully mask the challenge lurking in his eyes.

Aether, the embodiment of warmth and light, greets you in a friendly manner, his eyes a rich glowing amber hue.

"I brought some desserts," you announce with a hesitant smile, presenting the carefully arranged selection of sweets. “As an apology for last time.” Your gaze flickers away in an attempt to appear shy and humble.

Aether’s eyes light up at the sight of the intricately crafted macarons. You generously offer him a few, suggesting he shares them with his gluttonous fairy familiar. Grateful, he thanks you and departs, leaving you alone with your rival.

The atmosphere between the two of you thickens, the tension palpable.

"You're not going to share some with me?" Lyney teases, a mock pout on his face.

"After you ruined my garden, no, not really."

"Then would you like a glass of punch as an apology?" he suggests, pointing to the fruity mixture.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. "A drink from you? No thanks, I don't trust you."

Lyney's playful demeanor doesn't falter; instead, he takes a deliberate step closer, his gaze holding a challenge. "Come on, don't be so uptight. It's just punch."

"And why would I take anything from you?" you question, suspicion lacing your words. "How can I be sure that you wouldn't have poured something in it?"

"Because why would I drink it myself, too? And look," he points casually to a few figures engaged in lively conversation near you. "They’re also drinking from the punch. Why would I risk angering the rest, especially today?"

You pause, considering his argument.

If you're going to endure this gala until Mona decides it's time to leave, a little liquid courage would not hurt. You look away from Lyney's captivating violet eyes, snatching the glass he is holding. With a sly grin, you pour yourself a generous amount of the sparkling liquid.

“Well, it was unpleasant meeting you, as always,” you say with a smirk, your hair swaying as you turn to leave. Unbeknownst to you, Lyney’s eyes follow your every move, a faint pink hue dusting his cheeks.

His lively façade noticeably deflates as he witnesses you greet a dark-haired man whose muscles strain against his clothes. Lyney clicks his tongue disapprovingly, downing his drink in one swift gulp — he doesn’t care that you’re talking to Wriothesley, and he is absolutely indifferent about your little crush on the older warlock.

The magician refuses to acknowledge the subtle shifts in his emotions, trying his best to avoid the implications they carry.

He pours himself another glass of the punch, scanning the various tables. His eyes lock onto a plate of jellied fruits, sitting there untouched, the tempting delicacy calling out to him.

Wriothesley casually leans against a column, sipping tea from a delicate cup.

"Has Barghest been giving you any trouble?" he inquires, his voice smooth.

"Um…" you start, feeling your tongue dry up, the words unable to leave your mouth. "Actually, yes," you stammer, and you gape, not believing your own words.

"Oh? What's wrong?"

“To start off, anytime we're at the dog park, attempting to blend in with normal people and play fetch with a stick, he insists on bringing me enchanted — and by that I mean cursed — artifacts. Not only does he refuse to let go, but he hoards all his little finds and won't even let me touch them!" You rant, voice rising. "And don't get me started on his behavior during the full moon. It would've been fine if the only problem was his howling — I could easily cast a spell and soundproof the room. But no! He gets the zoomies and has to run around for hours!"

Wriothesley arches an eyebrow, motioning for you to continue. His expression is of mild curiosity, partly entertained by your unusual behavior.

You gasp, hands instinctively flying to cover your mouth. The words had spilled out unintentionally, and it takes you a moment to grasp the bizarre nature of the situation.

“Ask me what’s two plus two,” you implore in an attempt to make sense of the situation, eyes pleading.

With a bemused expression, the Duke obliges.

Summoning all your willpower, you try to say “five”. However, each attempt feels like dragging your tongue through sand, rendering your voice mute before the incorrect word can escape. After a brief struggle, you give up with a reluctant "four."

"Congratulations, you can do basic math," Wriothesley deadpans.

"Lyney, you little shit!”

Your eyes sweep across the hall, searching for his unmistakable figure amidst the crowd. His figure seems to grow more prominent as he gets closer and closer. The room seems to narrow down to just the two of you, the distant chatter and laughter fading away.

Lyney is now just a few paces away, his eyes fixed on yours.

"You!" The accusation erupts simultaneously from both of you,

"You think you can just ruin my night and get away with it?"

"You ruined my garden, and now you're trying to ruin my reputation at the gala!”

The onlookers, previously engaged in light-hearted conversations, now turn their attention towards the spectacle unfolding before them. The entire grand hall holds its breath, sensing the growing hostility, awaiting the next move.

Lyney smirks, seemingly unfazed by the attention. "Well, if you're looking for a fight, you've got one."

Before you can formulate a response, a voice echoes through the hall, cutting through the tension. "Enough!" The commanding presence of Monsieur Neuvillette silences the murmurs in an instant. "The two of you, out now."

Attempting to explain yourself ends up being futile, as Chevreuse firmly grasps your shoulders, propelling you towards the exit. You find yourself unceremoniously dropped on the grass outside, protests lost in the scuffle. Clorinde follows suit, pushing Lyney out with a force that sends him stumbling besides you.

"You are not allowed to re-enter until you've resolved this petty drama between you," Clorinde declares, tone unyielding, as she forcefully closes the door behind you, the latch clicking shut.

"You drugged me with a truth serum!" you shout as you nurse your aching tailbone. Lyney ignores you, nonchalantly standing up and brushing off his clothes.

"And you didn't do the same?" he retorts with a sharp edge to his words, his nostrils flaring.

"It was payback for my garden! An answer to your little declaration of war!" you snap.

The male in front of you appears taken aback for a split second. "Declaration of what? What are you even talking about?”

"The tansy, you asshole!"

"Tansy? What even is a tansy? Have you gone mad?" he responds, a furrow forming on his brow as he struggles to comprehend your accusations.

"The only flower the stupid boggards you summoned left alone in my whole garden. Do you even know what it means?" Your voice echoes in the stillness, punctuated by the distant sounds of crickets and the passing night breeze.

"I really don't know what a tansy is," he admits, his confessions handing in the air, the admission catching you off guard. Despite your initial reluctance to believe him, the truth serum’s influence prevents him from lying — and you’re left grappling with the realization that perhaps he is genuinely unaware of its significance.

You groan, the weight of the chaotic evening bearing down on you. "Seriously, why did it have to be you?" you mumble into your hands, your words muffled by your palms.

"Me what?" Lyney asks, leaning in slightly.

Your eyes widen, and panic courses through you. You quickly press your hands against your lips in a desperate attempt to keep them closed. The truth serum is still affecting you, and you’re acutely aware you’ve almost revealed more than you intended.

Lyney narrows his eyes, sensing that there's more to your words than meets the eye. "Come on, spill it," he prods, leaning in even closer, his lips brushing past your ear.

You gulp, squeezing your eyes shut. "It's unfair that I had to like you of all people," you confess quickly through gritted teeth, your fists clenching the grass beneath you. "What idiot falls in love with someone who clearly hates them and sees them as weak and useless?"

Lyney is stunned, not expecting your answer. He stumbles back, and you feel a few tears pricking in your eyes at his obvious rejection.

"You love me?" he slowly asks, confused. You take a look at him — the moonlight accentuates the contours of his face, revealing a vulnerability you've never witnessed before.

"Yes, how many times do you want me to repeat it and embarrass myself? I think this was more than enough."

"An infinite amount of times," he states softly. You meet his gaze with damp eyelashes, taken aback by the sudden flush of his cheeks. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then, drawing a shaky breath, he murmurs, "I want to hear you say it again and again."

“Why?”

"Because—because I love you too.”

His confession hangs in the air, every vulnerable emotion laid bare before you.

“You must be lying,” you mumble, shaking your head.

Lyney crouches down to meet your averted gaze. “Look at me,” he murmurs gently as he reaches out to brush away the lone tear tracking down your cheek. “You know I cannot lie.”

As his thumb wipes away the dampness from your skin, you find yourself leaning into his touch. “Then why do and say all these hurtful things?”

A tense silence hangs between you as Lyney seems to search for the right words. He takes a steadying breath before meeting your eyes. “Fear… Fear made me lash out in stupid ways. When I first saw you, it stirred memories of my own immaturity and overconfidence, back before I realized I could depend on other people, too.” His shoulders slump. “I didn't mean to hurl those hurtful remarks towards you — I really didn't — but I wanted to shield myself from caring for you.”

His eyes plead for understanding, hand reaching for you, but he lets it fall limply to his side when he sees the turbulent swirl of hurt and anger in your eyes.

"You are so stupid, Lyney!" you cry, hot tears coursing freely down your cheeks now. "Instead of facing your true feelings, you chose to lash out and say cruel things, just to drive me away! Clearly that didn't work out, did it?”

Your ragged breaths echo in the tense silence between you both. Lyney offers no defense, unable to justify his actions.

"I should've been honest from the beginning. I wanted you to become stronger... and while doing so, I hurt you," he says, eyes downcast, and you notice how the fight he had in him has left him. “I saw my own weakness reflected in you…”

"Wow, thanks for noticing," you bite back, the hurt in your words hidden by your simmering anger, veiling the vulnerability underneath. "So, all those times you cast spells on me, all those attempts to humiliate me in front of friends and superiors—what was it all for? To help me grow? Get over yourself, Lyney."

He looks down, unable to meet your eyes. "I truly am sorry," he murmurs, “and I wish I could take it all back.”

You stand up, your body surging with conflicting emotions as you close the distance between you and Lyney. As you draw near, your face is mere inches away from his; nostrils flaring, you grit your teeth, and without breaking eye contact, you grab him by his shirt.

"Sorry won't fix it." Your fingers dig into the fabric. "And yet, I still love you."

With those words left hanging in the air, you press your lips to his.

Your mouths collide in a frenzied dance, all the bottled up emotions pouring out. Your hand moves from his collar to the back of his neck, gripping him tightly, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer to you.

Lyney responds with a fervor that matches your own — his lips move against your with a hunger that mirrors your desires, his pent up feelings coming undone. His hands find their way to your sides, holding you tightly as if afraid to let go. The pressure of his touch sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

The kiss is not gentle; its rawness — a proof of the unspoken tension that has defined your relationship.

You feel the wetness of tears streaming down Lyney’s cheeks, and his grip on your sides tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he deepens the kiss. His teeth graze your lower lip, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

"I love you so, so much," he whispers as he moves his lips away from yours, leaning his forehead against yours. "I will do my best to repent for my actions until the day I die."

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and you can't help but let out a choked sob, heart feeling both heavy and light. You reach for his face, your trembling hands gently cradling his cheeks.

"I know you will," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion, "and I know I will forgive you."

You press your lips against his once again, this time tenderly. Your bodies draw closer, molding together as if they were made to fit each other perfectly. The heat between you intensifies, and you feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours.

The world around you fades into insignificance, and time becomes irrelevant as you lose yourselves in the intoxicating passion.

“—rinde, Clorinde, wait” a distant voice calls out.

"They’ve been out there for a while. I must make sure no property is destroyed, again."

Clorinde flings the heavy door open, eyes narrowed, body crackling with purple electricity that dances around her. Seconds later, Navia follows suit, appearing slightly out of breath with her intricate dress billowing behind her.

Caught in the act, you and Lyney spring apart at their entrance. The two women's eyes scan your disheveled appearances — your lipstick smudged around your mouth, with marks matching its shade plainly visible on Lyney's collar and neck, both your clothing rumpled, and his hairdo now a tangled mess.

"Damn it," Clorinde's groans, her hand pressing against her forehead in apparent frustration. "You couldn't wait — I don't know — a few more weeks until Mabon. Now I'm down 72,000 mora."

"What?" you ask, puzzled by your friend’s outburst.

Navia sighs, offering a sympathetic pat on Clorinde's shoulder. "A few people had a betting pool running."

"A betting pool? About what?"

Clorinde crosses her arms, her expression softening. "How long it would take you and Lyney to finally confess your feelings," she reveals. Lyney's cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and realization. "I bet that it would happen after Mabon. A few others had different predictions, and of course, there was Wriothesley who bet on tonight. That smug asshole was so sure."

“Well, then, we will leave you two lovebirds alone," Navia teases, giving you a playful wink.

"Wait," you yell out, feeling a sudden surge of curiosity. "What did — what did Mona bet on?"

Clorinde's laughter fills the air. "Oh, Mona? She bet that you'll always be at each other's necks," she reveals, unable to contain her amusement.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mona," you mutter under your breath, exasperation evident in your voice.

Clorinde waves a dismissive hand. "Oh, don't take it too seriously. Just remember, I expect an invitation to the wedding."

"We're not even officially together yet, and you're already planning our wedding?" you exclaim.

"Let's take it one step at a time, shall we?” Lyney teases, his voice filled with warmth as he presses his lips against your cheek. “But I must admit, a wedding would be quite the celebration." Lyney teases, pressing his lips against your cheek.

"Anyway, I will leave you two alone now, just try to keep it PG in here," Clorinde teases once again before shutting the door behind her, leaving you and Lyney alone.

Your whole body flushes. On one hand, you feel a tinge of embarrassment and anger at the thought of your friends betting on your love life — particularly your best friend betting against you. But on the other hand, you can’t deny the contentment swirling within you, knowing that you’ve finally broken down Lyney's walls and glimpsed at the raw emotions behind his eyes.

"I think before we go in, we should have a proper talk about us," you murmur, meeting Lyney’s gaze with a determined expression. "Just so you know, I'm not toning down on the pranks even if we are together. I have a score to settle."

"Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less," he replies, a hint of challenge in his voice. "But remember, love, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve as well."

Author's note: My brain is completly fried from the amount of RedBulls and painkillers, so sorry for any mistakes. This was meant to be around 2k words, but yea... 💀

Some extra information for the curious 😋

English folk names for the herbs used — Chickweed (Tongue Grass), Dandelion seeds and roots (Swine’s Snout and Lion’s Tooth, respectively), Hawthorn (Mayflower)

Dragon's Egg — another name for Septarian, a brownish-red stone that "enhances communication abilities", a healing stone

Rosseland — in-game name for Lyney's cat

Barghest — a monstrous black dog from English Folklore; I like to imagine Barghest was from the same litter as Wriothesley's familiar (Cerberus), which is why the two of you are close friends

The Fontaine Grand Gala being hosted on a Wednesday — supposedly this day of the week is associated with "communication"

Lyney did not spike the punch, but the empty glass he was holding (which was rudely snatched) was coated in the truth-serum powder

Tansy (Tanacetum vulgare) — a perennial flowering plant; "I declare war on you"

#genshin x reader #lyney x reader #genshin x you #lyney x you #genshin x y/n #lyney x y/n #reader insert #lyney #x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact #lyney brainrot #i love him too much

113 notes · View notes

dokyccis · 5 months

Text

busy II | h. renjun

it’s been a while !! // part one here.

“sometimes i wonder when are you gonna stop humiliating yourself because of renjun.” yunjin says in a serious, but ironic tone.

it’s been 2 weeks since renjun left you all alone in your apartment. the way your boyfriend left coldly still gives you goosebumps and you feel like crying with the thought of him not loving you anymore.

you’re insecure about all that, you don’t wanna believe your thoughts but you feel like you need to. you need to face reality and accept the truth.

“i don’t humiliate myself.” yunjin chuckles sarcastically when you finally answer. “do i?” you genuinely ask.

“do we really have to answer?” it’s karina’s turn to say something. “that’s obvious, honey. you just need to open your eyes and see what’s going on.” she’s realistic.

maybe they’re right, you think to yourself.

those were 2 weeks of pure silence between you and renjun, he didn’t message you or call you to ask how you’ve been or just to say hi.

you feel like the feeling that used to be like fire burning in yours and renjun’s heart is now dying little by little, and you don’t want that. does renjun want that? you wonder.

you still remember the sweet thoughts you shared with renjun in silent and calm nights at your place, the atmosphere matching the way you two looked at each other and talked to each other so lovingly.

you believed that renjun was the one & only for you and would always be, but destiny stabbed you with it’s tricks.

“y/n, come on! you need to move on, y’know?” yunjin encourages you.

“it’s not like we broke up, yunjin. he just left and…” you pause. “god, i sincerely don’t know what’s going on with renjun.” you sigh deeply and hide your face in your hands.

“he’s just an ass.” karina says, making yunjin laugh and being contaminated by the red haired girl.

you laugh along with your friends, trying to shrug the pain off. it’s like you lost a significant part of you, like your heart has a big hole that’s just filled up with renjun’s presence.

you’re afraid renjun just played with you all this time, but you also can’t believe that. his sweet words, delicate touch and innocent gaze leads you to think the otherwise.

you can’t imagine your life without renjun, your mind and heart refuses to even think of the possibility. you gave your whole self to renjun, dedicating each special part of you to him.

“he may be an asshole, but i still miss him.” you reveal.

“we know that, hun’.” yunjin says, ceasing her laugh. “it’s kind of normal to miss him, though. look what you’ve created within these past 3 years, you had a pretty admirable relationship with renjun, you two were like bee and honey.” she mocks, karina nods her head in agreement.

“it’s okay to miss him, babe, we’re not judging you for that. remember that we’re your best friends, we’re here to help you recover and stay safe over all of this.” karina smiles genuinely, and you can’t be happier to have friends like yours.

“thank you so much, you two.” you smile back, pulling your two best friends into a warm, comforting and loving hug.

a little bit wild, a little bit tamed

it’s the final line, isn’t it?

a little bit lost, a little bit saved

ain’t we all just a little bit hypocrite?

you sing along to your favorite song’s lyrics. all alone at home, you’re totally distracted by the song’s rhythm and melody, like nothing or anyone else could reach you in that moment.

the thin sound of your apartment’s bell leads you out of your own thoughts and immersion, echoing in your head until it gives you a minimum headache.

you get up from the couch, making your way to the front door to open it.

“who the fuck is bothering me this late?” you ask yourself, picking up the key standing in the little desk nearby the door. you open the door.

“hey, how can i help yo-” your body froze when you looked at the person standing in front of you.

it’s like you haven’t looked at renjun for a while, like you two spent 2 years without talking to each other. he looks devastated, and you feel sick with his presence.

you try to shut your door, but renjun doesn’t let you. “please, let’s talk.” he says in a calm and low tone.

your mind doesn’t wanna let him in, but your heart is weak for renjun and everything he does. if he wants something, then you’re giving it to him.

you sigh deeply, letting renjun in before shutting your door and following him to your couch.

you two sat there in silence. renjun was looking at his fingers, maybe thinking of what he could say to you. in the other side, you felt totally restless. your hands were sweating, your heart was beating fast and your vision started getting blurry.

renjun cleared his throat, gaining your attention. you look at him.

“i know i was very immature.” he assumed. “i’m sorry for that.” he looked at you, your gaze meeting.

you immediately look away, not handling keep eye contact with him. “that’s it?” you say without even thinking, the two words swimming out of your mouth.

renjun was taken aback by your response, you could sense the way atmosphere in the room got more tense than it already was.

“what… what do you mean?” he tilts his head towards you in confusion.

every word said by renjun made you feel more and more nervous, like your heart could explode at any moment. “i mean, you ghosted me for 2 weeks, you never explained me why you were acting like that…” you gain courage to look him in the eyes.

“i cannot accept your apology if you can’t explain me what’s happening.” you’re clear. renjun keeps looking at you, looking for answers in your eyes.

“i told you everything’s oka-” you cut him.

“it’s not okay, renjun!” you yell, getting up from the couch with an impulse. “you always say it’s okay, when it’s evidently not okay.” you burst, emphasizing the “not” in the phrase.

“y/n, calm do-” you cut him again.

“how can i calm down?! tell me, renjun! how the heck can i calm down? you didn’t contact me for 2 weeks, i cried everyday because i thought you didn’t love me,” you pause, sighing deeply before continuing. “and you want me to calm down?”

“look, if you came here just to bother the shit out of me, then leave.” your tone is heavy and serious. “i’m already too stressed and i really don’t wanna hear your stupid excuses anymo-” it’s renjun’s turn to cut you off.

“can you please hear me?” he speaks a little louder. “god, listen to me for once in your life!” he exclaims and you cross your arms, signing for him to continue.

“i’m sorry for ghosting you, i’m sorry for everything i did to you all this time.” he gets up from the couch, facing you. “i love you so much, y/n. you don’t even imagine how much it hurts to know that i made you feel like that.” he steps closer.

you feel your shoulders tense, your hands sweat again and your breath stop with him getting closer.

“y/n.” he takes you by the arm, hugging you tightly. “please, forgive me.” his voice is weak.

you feel the tears form in your eyes, threatening to fall and stain your whole face. renjun tightens up the hug even more when he noticed you didn’t answer him, wanting a minimum reaction from you.

“please, y/n.” he begs. “i know i messed up, i know i made stupid excuses, i know i should pay more attention to you.” renjun said, feeling the tears fall all over his face. “but please, stay.” he begs one more time.

you can’t control yourself, hugging renjun back and crying like a newborn baby in renjun’s arms. his whispered-apologies could still be heard by you, followed by his hands going to your hair and a kiss being deposited in your forehead.

“please, i’m so sorry. please forgive me, y/n.” he begs for the third time.

your heart melted over renjun’s broken tone. you couldn’t handle one more week away from him, so you didn’t think twice before saying:

“i forgive you, jun.”

renjun looked at you with wide eyes, a smiling growing in his face and lightening up his dark eyes. “a-are you serious?” he stuttered. you nod in agreement.

the boy hugs you again, but this time the embrace is filled with happiness and relief. you smile, your arms still wrapped around his body.

“thank you so much, y/n.” renjun thanks you. “i swear i’ll never do that again, i swear to god.” he says without letting go, making you feel safe in his arms after a long time feeling empty when hugging him.

you spend minutes hugging renjun, hearing him apologize to you more than he should and hearing him trying his best to convince you he would never do that again.

the love, affection and admiration that used to be like fire burning in your heart now feels like it again. your love battery with renjun is finally charging itself up after so much time.

you felt like you just returned home and you really don’t wanna ever leave again.

“renjun, we spent about 10 minutes hugging,” you point out. “i think we can pull away, can’t we?”

“let’s stay like this for a little longer, please.” he asks, burrying his face in your neck. you giggle with your boyfriend’s attitude, whispering sweet things and melting in the pleasure sensation that genuine touch gave you.

#— ✦ :: on your lin !! < 3 #lulu ★ing neo!#renjun x reader #renjun angst #renjun fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct x reader #nct angst #nct fluff

72 notes · View notes

butterflydm · 10 months

Text

wot reread: a memory of light (chapter 38-epilogue)

spoilers for a memory of light!

Well, the rest of the chapters have fewer pages in total than chapter 37 did, so this is going to be my last full reread post, though I do have a couple of follow-ups planned.

My timing ended up being pretty good, even though my original intention was just to reread books 1-3 in anticipation of the second season of the show. And now I’ve still got over a month to get good and excited about everything the show will be bringing to the table.

1. We go back to Rand, still deep in his conversation with TDO. The chapter “the Last Battle” really revolved around the battle between the forces outside Shayol Ghul, because it ended when the commander of the other army finally was killed (though there are still a ton of his forces to take care of, the head of the snake was cut off and so was the person who fancied himself Demandred’s replacement).

2. The ‘let go’ that Rand is hearing in his mind is in his father’s voice, and the meaning expands here -- let them sacrifice. it is their choice to make. And then Egwene��s voice -- am I not allowed to be a hero too?

Because this is something that Rand has been resisting over the course of the books -- basically ever since he accepted that he will be the sacrifice, he’s struggled with knowing that he’s not the only one, with knowing that other people are sometimes even sacrificing just to get him here, to this place. And, I imagine, with his tentative plans to maybe even survive this ‘sacrifice’, that’s going to make him feel even more guilty about other people giving up their lives in this fight.

3. He talks in dialogue with Egwene’s voice in his head (given that he’s existing around and between reality, it might really be Egwene’s voice too). He is not in charge of protecting her. He decided to take that charge on himself, back in EotW, but it was never his to claim. Let us die for what we believe, and do not try to steal that from us.

4. And so Rand takes himself through his list again, backwards, this time, releasing his feelings of shame for failing to save them, releasing his need to protect them. Letting go of the mountain that has been crushing him for the majority of the series.

He hadn’t realized how large it had become, how much he had let himself carry.

...

Ilyena was last. We are reborn, Rand thought, so we can do better the next time.

So do better.

5. And now Rand, as he stands surrounded by all time and nothing at the same time, comes to understand that the Darkness was never a being, never an entity of its own. It is the between of everything. It can only win if no one is willing to keep fighting against it.

6. Mat gets the news of Lan’s reported death. As he did with Egwene and with Elayne, he swallows the grief and doesn’t let it show to anyone else, instead using the news to spur the army onward to attack the now-stunned foe.

7. Rand tells TDO that he can’t win, and TDO argues that it has Rand in its grasp right now, and Rand says that that’s missing the point, because it was never just about his victory. The people he lists:

Morgase (?) - a woman, torn and beaten down, cast from her throne and made a puppet

Thom - a man who remembered stories and took fool boys under his wing

Moiraine - a woman who hunted truth before others could

Perrin (?) - a man whose family was taken from him, but who stood tall

Nynaeve - a woman who refused to believe she could not Heal those who had been harmed

Mat - a hero who insisted with every breath that he was not a hero

Egwene - a woman who would not bend her back while she was beaten and who stone with the Light for all who watched

Rand realizes -- “it was never about beating me. It was about breaking me.”

8. Okay, I have to say. I have to! But this is... this is literally also how the Seanchan work. This is their philosophy of life -- to take people and break them to the Seanchan’s purpose. As I’ve said before, there really is no way around the fact that the Seanchan are going to be the Great Evil of the Fourth Age. There are just too many Shadow-Seanchan parallels! Maybe Mat and Min can slow the train slightly but I don’t think they can actually put the breaks on it.

9. But back to now -- Rand and TDO watch the battlefield, where Mat is fighting -- Tam at his side, then Karede and his suicide-slave troops, then Loial and the Ogier. “Outnumbered three to one”. Mat is shouting in the Old Tongue: For the Light! For honor! For glory! For life itself!

I will take a moment to be glad that, despite the first half of this book trying so hard to align Mat with the slavers for whatever fucking reason, he’s not fighting for the slavers in this battle. That he actually did become the General of the Forces of the Light, not primarily the General of the Slavers. Looking back, it really does feel like the change was signaled when Mat first took off his Seanchan clothes and put back on his Two Rivers coat*. That seems to have been a visual cue about his change in characterization -- how he started pushing back more against Tuon, forcing her into more compromises, and standing more aligned with the Forces of Light rather than pandering to the slavers all the time. idk, maybe forcing Mat over to Ebou Dar at the start of the book was Sanderson’s way of trying to finally create a synthesis between the horrible Mat of CoT & KoD and the non-horrible Mat of the earlier books, and he felt like he actually had to take Seanchan!Mat to his worst conclusion before bringing him out again? It still really sucks that the Mat and Rand reunion happened during our low point of Mat’s characterization, though.

(* which appears to have been triggered by the ‘not pleasant’ conversation that Mat and Tuon had after Tuon berates him for not telling her that Egwene was briefly enslaved by the Seanchan. After that (off-screen) conversation, Mat starts being much more combative re: the Seanchan -- after that conversation is when he has his bitter/sarcastic thought that he’s not done much to convince Tuon to stop using damane and when he suggests to Min that she mislead Tuon about her viewings to try to soften her stance on Aes Sedai; so I think we can safely give Egwene credit for the turnaround in Mat’s characterization -- I wish that that conversation between Mat and Tuon hadn’t happened off-screen! like so many important emotional moments!, but it seems like perhaps that was a watershed moment for Mat)

Rand and TDO watch, and TDO taunts Rand “the son of battles. I will take him [Mat!]. I will take them all, adversary. As I took the king of nothing [this is Lan, I assume]”.

10. Mat thinks about how he knows he can win this battle, despite the horrible odds. He just needs “a favorable toss of the dice”.

And, not too far away, with the Trollocs outside his hiding place, Olver gives up on the idea of trying to get the Horn to Mat, and lifts the Horn of Valere to his lips.

11. First Mat, and then everyone else, hears Rand’s voice -- he calls out Shai’tan as wrong, telling everyone that Lan isn’t dead. And just after he says that, Mat hears the familiar golden and clear note of the Horn of Valere.

...wow, the Seanchan feel so superfluous to requirements right now. They didn’t show up until after the final combat was engaged, after Rand had his final necessary epiphany, after the Horn was blown (they have still not shown up, technically).

I’m going to take a moment to daydream about a world where Tuon’s nature as marath’damane was revealed and accepted, so she really did flee with the Seanchan (so that she can try to recover from this blow to her powerbase) and the Seanchan never returned to the Last Battle. This would be a much easier way to de-tangle Mat from the Seanchan than whatever he’s gonna need to actually do post-canon.

12. The Heroes of the Horn return and our first sight of them is Birgitte coming to save Elayne from Mellar, with a shining silver arrow. 😍

Birgitte standing over her own corpse kinda cracks me up. Good for her! It’s also probably the first time she’s felt like herself in books and books.

“That was the bloody Horn of Valere!” Mat announces to his troops. “We can still win this night!” Inside, he marvels over how the Horn was sounded without him, showing that one of the things that he’d believed that he was permanently tied to isn’t tied to him after all.

Well, if that knot can be untied, Mat, maybe another one can be as well.

13. Between losing Demandred and the appearance of the Heroes of the Horn, the Shadow are now the ones who are on the defensive, with some Trollocs breaking and trying to run away.

The mist of the Heroes forms near Mat and he feels a moment of worry, wondering if maybe someone on the side of the Shadow summoned them. Hawkwing rides up to Mat, and tells him, “Do take better care of what has been allotted you. Almost, I worried we would not be summoned for this fight.”

I know, right? The lack of urgency in the Mat-in-Ebou-Dar half of the book about actually getting him to Merrilor to blow the Horn was really frustrating to me too!

When Mat confirms that this mean they’re fighting for the Light, Hawkwing tells him, “We would never fight for the Shadow.” The rumors about the Horn are wrong -- I feel like we learned this back in TGH as well but, you know, Mat was dying at the time, so I don’t blame him for not remembering.

Yeah, here’s the line: “We have come to the Horn, but we must follow the banner. And the Dragon.” So it was Rand, Perrin, and Mat who learned that. But, like I said, I don’t blame Mat for not remembering.

14. Hawkwing and Amaresu both scold Mat for not showing Rand enough appreciation for saving his life. Honestly, so fair and legit for Mat to finally be on the other end of a scolding like that. “I have seen you murmur that you fear his madness but all the while you forget that every breath you breathe - every step you take - comes at his forbearance. Your life is a gift from the Dragon Reborn, Gambler. Twice over.”

Mat feels so scolded. As he deserves.

He’s told that they can fight here because they have Rand’s banner and because Rand is... technically sort-of kind-of leading them... from a distance.

Amazingly, Mat takes a moment out of this encounter to marvel at how pretty one of the heroes is and then Remind Himself again that he’s married. He really does have to keep Reminding Himself. One of these days, he’s not going to remember to Remind Himself until after he’s already slept with someone else. It’s been more subtle in this book than in ToM, but Mat is still constantly checking out Every Other Lady around him.

15. Olver gets dug out of his hole by Trollocs but Noal, now one of the Heroes, arrives to save him. I don’t care about Noal, and Jordan definitely didn’t do enough to build up their relationship in CoT & KoD, but I still got a little misty at the tiny orphan child feeling grateful that one of the people who ‘abandoned’ him has finally come back.

16. haha, this next chapter is called ‘wolfbrother’ so I guess that Perrin is finally gonna wake up. But first, we have Elayne!

She’s able to wriggle lose enough to make the medallion copy shift away from her skin and fall to the ground, and now she can embrace saidar again. Elayne apologizes to Birgitte but Birgitte laughs it off, “Why do you mourn, Elayne? I have it all back! My memory has returned. It is wonderful! I don’t know how you stood me these last few weeks. I moped worse than a child who’d just broken her favorite toy.” Ah, yeah, that confirms that Birgitte’s spiral into bitterness was not meant to be a reflection of Elayne but on the dark place that Birgitte was in, with her loss of memories, I think. But it’s a shame that it feels like parts of the fandom just took Birgitte’s unrelated bitterness as a reason to slam on Elayne more. My girl gets so much undeserved hate.

And Elayne and Birgitte will ride back into the battle together. Not as Aes Sedai and Warder, but as friends. 😍 😍 😍 😍

17. Aviendha! I’ve missed you! Her timeline isn’t advancing as quickly as it has been for those further away from Shayol Ghul, so not as much as happened here in the valley. She can feel the channeling inside the Pit of Doom - “a quiet pulse”. Oh! The wolfbrother of the chapter’s title is actually Elyas, who Aviendha runs across now. The Darkhound Wild Hunt is happening, and hundreds of wolves have come to fight back against them.

Aviendha is about to go fetch channelers to help bring down the Darkhounds, when she spies Graendal a bit higher on the slope, with some Turned channelers, and Aiel guards under compulsion. Aviendha alerts her companions (Amys & Cadsuane) and then begins the fight against Graendal.

18. Elayne has a sword again. Where is she getting these swords? I’m just gonna assume it’s made out of Air or something. More useful than the sword, Elayne creates a banner with the Power, the red lion of Andor, lighting up the night.

19. [Mat] remembered, within those memories that were not his, leading forces far grander. Armies that were not fragmented, half-trained, wounded and exhausted. But Light help him, he had never been so proud.

...

This was the moment he had been seeking. It was the card upon which to bet everything he had. Ten to one odds, still, but the Sharan army, the Trollocs and the Fades had no head. No general to guide them.

...

Elayne’s death had been a lie. Her troops had been in disarray - they had lost more than a third of their soldiers - but just as they were about to be routed by the Trollocs, she rode into their midst and rallied them.

20. Catching up with Moggy! Hi, Moghedien. I bet your Last Battle is going pretty shitty. She kicks Demandred’s abandoned corpse. Oh, his devoted Shendla just left his body there to rot? Yikes. For Moghedien, she discovers that now that so many of the Chosen have been killed off, TDO is ready to let her have a taste of that sweet sweet True Power.

She disguises herself as Demandred and heads to the Sharan forces. I have to admit, given how open Min has been about her Talents, it’s kinda astonishing that Moghedien doesn’t know about her viewings. Min will tell anyone who stands still for five seconds, plus Tuon announced her as a Doomseer and has been plumping her up for the past whatever-number of chapters.

Moghedien starts to gear up for her role as Fake Demandred...

...and then she gets a blast of cannon/dragon-fire in her face from the Band’s part of Mat’s plan.

21. Instead of the Band leaving their caves to fight; channelers are opening them up brief windows to shoot through. Aludra is placed up on a high location with a spy-glass, giving orders to the channelers for the next locations for the booms. Honestly very clever.

22. As Aviendha fights in the valley, plants grow to cover her passage.

They had come right when she had needed them to hide her approach. Happenstance? She chose to believe otherwise. She could feel [Rand], in the back of her mind. He fought, a true warrior. His battle lent her strength, and she tried to return the same.

Determination. Honor. Glory. Fight on, shade of my heart. Fight on.

😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍

23. Aviendha kills a Compelled attacker, only realizing it’s Rhuarc after she has struck the fatal blow. She kills him moments before he would have killed her, and only her shoulder gets injured.

She does her best to convince herself that she only killed a shell. That Rhuarc was already dead.

There is a burst of determination from Rand (Strength, Aviendha) and her fatigue leaves her, and she refocuses on the fight.

24. Aviendha studies Graendal and decides on her approach -- she creates a spear made out of fire and light, and some other weaves in reserve -- and charges for Graendal. See, this makes a lot more sense that Elayne randomly having a sword, because this is a weapon and Aviendha knows and has trained in most of her life. I think that Sanderson Just Likes Swords tbh.

I really love the description here because of how it brings back Aviendha’s Maiden roots as she launches her attack on Graendal. The ground explodes underneath her (her legs get pretty destroyed, it sounds like), but she’s leaping up already aimed like a spear herself, and she sinks the spear into Graendal’s side just as Graendal is using the True Power to Travel... and because they’re touching, she goes along with Graendal when she Travels.

25. Mat rides with the Heroes of the Horn. He gets them to confirm that he isn’t one of them. He can see Elayne from where he is.

Mat saw Elayne’s banner glowing above them in the sky, crafted of the One Power, and caught a glimpse of someone who looked like her riding among the soldiers, hair glowing as if lit from behind her. She seemed a bloody Hero of the Horn herself.

26. And then the great battle is over, at least here on the battlefield.

He would have to thank Tuon for returning. He did not go looking for her, though. He had a feeling she would expect him to perform his princely duties, whatever they might be.

Hmm.

27. He does feel that tugging. Rand needs him. He tries to convince himself that this was his part, out here, and whatever is going on where Rand is... that’s Rand’s business. The dice are still tumbling in his head. This part here manages to capture Mat’s double-think in a way that I didn’t feel like came across in the actual chapter when we had the Rand & Mat reunion.

After trying to talk himself out of it, Mat ends up saying that he’s a fool because “I need to go to Rand.”

As a parting note, he asks Hawkwing to go have a conversation with “their Empress” (Tuon), and hmm, interesting. Okay, I need to break this down a bit.

So, one of the things that gave Tuon the big jollies back in the negotiation chapter with Rand was Mat referring to the Seanchan forces as “our forces”, which she basically interpreted as “haha you’re mine now, no take-backs”. And here, he does not call the Seanchan empress “my” Empress. He says she’s “their” Empress. The Empress of the Seanchan, who he is not currently identifying with, it would seem. So. That’s interesting.

We don’t get to see the conversation between Hawkwing and Tuon, of course, but what would Mat assume about what Hawkwing would tell Tuon? Why would Mat send Hawkwing to talk to her? The Heroes of the Horn follow Rand, pretty explicitly. They literally just recently scolded Mat for not appreciating Rand enough. They are aware of current events in the world and of the Seanchan Empire.

Which is to say... of course, Mat is assuming that Hawkwing will try to set Tuon straight on how to be an Empress without abusing millions of people under her power. Hawkwing told him that they would never fight for the Shadow. I think it’s reasonable for Mat to assume that he would disapprove of slavery. And Hawkwing’s hatred of Aes Sedai in his lifetime was canonically influenced by Ishamael, if I recall correctly, so the idea that Ishamael’s corruption is still influencing him in his Horn-form just seems like kinda silly to me. So. That’s my stance on that. Mat has clearly stated in recent chapters that he disapproves of the damane system, in particular, and that he wants to influence Tuon to soften her stance on Aes Sedai. So we know what Mat’s motivations are in sending Hawkwing off to talk to her. And it kinda fits Mat’s pattern of trying to use other people to influence Tuon to be less awful.

28. Rand has thought about Mat often, here in the battle with TDO. He thinks of him again -- Beneath them, on the battlefield, the Trollocs had fallen, beaten by a young gambler from the Two Rivers.

29. Oh, hey, Perrin just woke up. Page 853. He went to sleep on page 670. Nice long nap. Missed... a lot of stuff.

He learns that the battle at Merrilor has been won, but the battle at Thakan’dar, outside of Shayol Ghul, rages on. He gets his exhaustion washed away by one of the Aes Sedai and goes physically back into TAR (where he left Gaul to guard the cave where Rand fights).

30. In the waking world, Thom is the one guarding that cave entrance and he ponders the various ways that the ending of the world can be turned into a song, once this is all over.

31. Mat goes to Grady and tells him that he needs to be taken to Shayol Ghul. He’s brought Rand’s banner with him. Hanging out with Grady are Olver and Noal. The dice are still tumbling in Mat’s head. As far as I can tell, they haven’t stopped since Elayne asked him if he knew what he was doing.

Mat, on thinking about Noal/Jain becoming a Hero of the Horn:

Well, you wouldn’t find Mat trading places with him. Noal might enjoy it, but Mat wouldn’t dance at another man’s command. Not for immortality itself, no he wouldn’t.

Another data point that I’m placing into the pile.

Grady says that Traveling is wonky in that direction. Can’t be done.

Mat won’t accept that as an answer, and he gets Grady to take him (and Olver) as close as they can get -- a Seanchan scouting camp, a day away.

32. lol, we get a tiny glimpse into Fain the mist god-demon here. This just feels so anti-climatic, to still have Fain around at a time like this. Anyway, he’s basically a walking Shadar Logoth at this point. Fain kinda suffers from the same issues as Slayer, in that it feels like he’s a villain that the story grew past and yet he hung around anyway.

33. Gaul has been standing alone against Slayer all this time in TAR, fighting against him and protecting Rand, on his own, while Perrin was taking his restorative nap. But now Perrin is back to help. On the plus side, because of the time dilation stuff, only two hours has passed for Gaul in here.

34. Since he couldn’t take a gateway to Shayol Ghul, Mat is going by dragon to’raken. And, yes, Mat takes time out of his terror at being up so high to notice how pretty the morat’to’raken is, even as he thinks that anyone willing to do this must be “completely insane”. Olver, who is riding with them, is having a great time, though.

From up high, Mat sees a mist covering the valley below and gets a tingling that tells him... it’s about Fain and the dagger.

35. Then their to’raken gets hit by arrows, killing the rider or knocking her out. Mat undoes his straps and climbs over to take the to’raken’s reins. So he’s... he’s riding the closest thing that this world has to a dragon. Subtext, fun for the whole family.

He does his best to give them a gentle landing. It is not terribly gentle.

36. In the aftermath of the crash, Mat thinks that kidnapping Tuon (aka marrying her) is the worst decision that he’s ever made. Hmm. And this is after she ‘returned’ to the battlefield per their plan.

“That,” [Mat] finally groaned, “is the worst bloody idea I’ve ever had.” He hesitated. “Maybe the second worst.” He had decided to kidnap Tuon, after all.

And he doesn’t undercut that thought with any kind of caveat. He just lets it stand as he moves on to the next thing. Another interesting data point.

37. Mat literally panics when he realizes that Rand’s banner has gone missing during their dragon to’raken flight. Why does it seem like Sanderson is so much better at writing Cauthor-related scenes when Mat and Rand are separated from each other?

Olver points out that the swirling clouds above them are forming Rand’s sign, and then he blows the Horn again, for good measure.

38. Rand breaks out of his frozen battle with TDO and re-enters his own body. “From his watching of the Pattern, he knew that although only minutes had passed here since he’d entered, in the valley outside this cavern, days had passed, and farther out into the world, it had been much longer.”

He points Callandor at Moridin, and Moridin promptly throws a knife at Alanna.

Broke back to consciousness by Nynaeve’s herbs, Alanna pulls herself together long enough to release the bond she forced on Rand before she dies.

...I kinda feel the need to point out that Moiraine has done nothing but be a battery for Rand since she entered the cave with him.

I also feel bad for Alanna, who really disappeared from the story once Min was bonded to Rand and could take over as Cadsuane’s Rand mood-ring, and now is only here so that she can die. I have extremely large beef against Alanna for forcibly bonding Rand but it feels like the story really should have used that beat even more than it did, rather than it disappearing after WH.

39. Perrin kills Slayer. Finally. And then he pulls back out of TAR and is “on the rocks in the valley of Thakan’dar”, near where the Aiel are gathered.

40. Mat leaves Olver with the Heroes and meets up with Perrin at the mouth of the cave. So, yes, Mat and Perrin get another reunion. Why does Perrin! Get all the reunions! This is what I was talking about when I said how annoyed I was that Mat thinking about Rand tugging on him wouldn’t end up with any good payoff. All we get is yet another Mat and Perrin reunion.

That Rand is literally inside that cave and yet the three ta’veren do not reunite here is honestly somewhat infuriating for me. Genuinely those two things: the Emond’s Five reunite and the ta’veren three reunite should have been at the TOP of Sanderson’s priority list! There is a lot that I have enjoyed about AMoL but there are just way too many important emotional moments that were either skipped or didn’t happen at all but should have happened.

And, fuck, letting Mat and Rand have a scene that doesn’t take place during Mat’s weird Ebou Dar adventure. That would have been nice! Once Mat decides that he’s not going to be a lapdog for the Seanchan/Tuon anymore, his storyline and his PoV get so much better and so much more enjoyable and I am just... eternal bitterness that our only Mat & Rand reunion was plopped into our most lapdoggy-Mat era.

Mat came here specifically to protect Rand and then he never sees him! That is just fucking awful. They deserved a better reunion. What was the point of having the Heroes scold Mat if we didn’t actually get to see Mat and Rand interact again after it? This is kinda a place where the epilogue is mostly at fault -- Mat just strolling off to plan a fireworks show for Tuon post-Last Battle conflicts pretty hard with him spending time with his dying best friend, tonally-speaking -- but that really just makes it all the more frustrating that the only Cauthor reunion took place when Mat was in his worst Seanchan-era.

41. Aviendha attacks Graendal with an exploding gateway; and Mat kills Fain/Mordeth/etc.

And Perrin almost takes off to go searching for Faile but manages to resist the urge: If Rand died, then he would lose Faile. And everything else.

Yes. I have tried to yell this at the fictional characters so many times: if the world dies, then so does your sweetheart! It’s nice that Perrin finally listened.

42. And for his final trick, Moridin grabs Callandor, and Moiraine and Nynaeve spring their trap, using the flaw in Callandor to take control of the ‘circle’ that Moridin has accidentally formed with them. With Moridin having pulled the True Power, Rand is now able to enter the link, and Moiraine and Nynaeve can feed him all three sets of Power: saidar, saidin, and the True Power. Light explodes from him, and from Shayol Ghul, as Rand uses the True Power to protect himself as he reaches through the Bore and grabs onto the Dark One.

43. We get a quick beat of people reacting to the light:

Elayne is on the battlefield of Merrilor, as they search for the living among the dead. She feels the “swelling of power in Rand” and her attention focuses on him.

Thom shields his eyes as the light bursts from the entrance to the Pit of Doom.

Min appears to have managed to get away from the Seanchan for now, changing linens for the wounded, perhaps also on the Field of Merrilor.

Aviendha is drawn back from the darkness of near-death by the light and the warmth of Rand inside her, and realizes that her explosion twisted the compulsion weave so that Graendal compelled herself to worship Aviendha. Awkward!

Logain sees the light and knows that it’s what was meant by the message that Egwene sent, and he breaks the seals on the Dark One’s prison.

44. In TAR, Perrin runs across Lanfear. Together, they walk into Shayol Ghul, and we learn that she apparently compelled Perrin a little while ago? He’s able to pull out of it by reminding himself of his duty and of Faile, and he snaps her neck, killing her.

*squints at the scene*

Yeah, I mean. That’s certainly still what looks like happened? Sorry, Sanderson, I’m not seeing your hints here about Lanfear tricking Perrin and surviving.

45. Rand holds the Dark One in his hand. Or the representation of his hand. And, once again, when Rand tells TDO how pitiful he is, all I see are echoes of the Seanchan:

You would have enslaved me as you would have enslaved the others. You cannot give oblivion. Rest is not yours. Only torment.

Rand can feel himself dying, his life blood slipping away. Realizing that the world that he’d seen without the Dark One would have been the truth, he knows that he cannot kill it. So he thrusts TDO back into his prison, braids saidar and saidin together to reforge a new shield onto the Bore.

With this new form of the Power, Rand pulled together the rent that had been made here long ago by foolish men.

He understood, finally, that the Dark One was not the enemy.

It never had been.

(because it only reflected the evil that people were already capable of)

46. The black hole inside the cave expands, as Moiraine and Nynaeve run for the safety of the cave entrance.

47. And now we are at the epilogue.

Much like I did with The Last Battle chapter, I’ll take the epilogue in sections by character. Rand & co will go last, this time.

Perrin

The spirits of the dead wolves fade back into the dream. Perrin voluntarily worries about Rand? Wow, that feels kinda out of character for Perrin, who has always been way better at pushing away thoughts of Rand than Mat has been, but I guess let’s go with it. It seems to exist to tell us that Perrin no longer sees color swirls and no longer feels any tugging towards anything. “Those seemed like very bad signs.”

“Have you sent for the three?”

What a weird way to ask “do Rand’s girlfriends know that he’s dying?”

I’m going to take a minute and count up the PoV & page counts everyone gets in the epilogue.

Rand: 3 PoVs (4 pages total)

Mat: 2 PoVs (1 1/5 pages)

Perrin: 3 PoVs (6 1/5 pages)

Loial: 1 PoV (3 pages)

Moghedien: 1 PoV (1 page)

Nynaeve: 1 PoV (2 pages)

Birgitte: 1 PoV (1 page)

Tam: 1 PoV (1 page)

Min: 1 PoV (1/2 page)

Cadsuane: 1 PoV (1 page)

That’s a lot of Perrin, comparatively-speaking.

Anyway, Perrin finds Faile, happy ending, etc.

...oh, I just looked it up and Sanderson answered some questions about the epilogue (tor[dot]com/2013/01/23/brandon-sandersons-wheel-of-time-answers-from-torchat/)! He added Perrin’s and Loial’s scene(s). Ha! I knew that Loial was a Sanderson addition because he uses “Matrim” instead of Mat (that is, imo, by far the easiest ‘tell’ of a Sanderson scene -- someone using ‘Matrim’ when they normally wouldn’t). And the Perrin scenes make sense too because it really builds off of and finishes the narrative thread that was at play earlier in the book for Perrin, which was presumably all written by Sanderson.

Mat

Mat strolls away from the aftermath of having killed Padan Fain, calling the dagger “a gamble I don’t want to touch”. The dice stop rolling in Mat’s head after he decides not to pick up the dagger. Hmm. Mat avoiding becoming the new Fain for the Fourth Age?

After that, we skip to his scene with Tuon. And there are only those two scenes with Mat in the epilogue -- killing Fain and finding out that he’s been baby-trapped into the Seanchan Empire. Though Perrin confirms in his own PoV scenes that he no longer gets the swirls or the tugging, we don’t get the same kind of confirmation in Mat’s (very short) scenes.

I will say that there is more subtlety in Mat’s ending here than I had remembered -- I was extremely unhappy about his ending but this marriage is pretty troubled already in the text, and so it’s not really the book that tries to pretend this is a happy “babies ever after” ending for Mat; I feel like that’s maybe more of a vibe that I got from fans at the time, rather than from the text. There are a lot of “male power fantasy” fans who just really like that Mat ends up married to an Empress and commanding vast armies, I think, at least from what I’ve seen around the internet (and especially back when the series was originally published).

And Mat specifically forces a grin at the news that Fortuona is pregnant, so he’s not genuinely happy about it (and we got things in recent chapters like Mat thinking that kidnapping Tuon was the worst idea he’d ever had).

But, honestly, I do still hate that it happens. I hate it up one side and down the other. It sucks as an ending for Mat so much. Miserable marriage, awful wife, horrible shackles tying him to a terrible fascist empire built on slavery.

That being said... just Tuon’s rule is incredibly fragile, this marriage is also incredibly fragile (which is probably why Jordan slapped a baby in there to begin with -- otherwise, given his general misery level in many of the Seanchan-related scenes, it’s difficult to see how Mat could bring himself to stick with Tuon for long enough to do whatever plot-related things Jordan was imagining would have happened in the outriggers -- the baby is a trap for Mat, not from Tuon but from Jordan).

There are still so many things about the Seanchan that could end up being deal-breakers for Mat if he finds out about them!

(ex. Bodewhin Cauthon is never mentioned in the books after Knife of Dreams, so it is entirely possible that she is among the new damane who were taken by the Seanchan in recent days, and Mat might end up seeing his sister with a collar around her neck post-canon. How would he react to that? And to Tuon’s unwillingness to let her go?)

In addition to Mat potentially seeing people he knows and cares about in collars, we also have the possibility of him learning just how brutal Tuon’s attack against the White Tower was (there isn’t any indication that he knows about the attack at all yet); or Talmanes telling him about Verin’s letter and Mat realizing how damaging his fear of Aes Sedai has been for the world; or further in the future there’s Mat’s potential reaction to the lethal political wrangling that Imperial heirs are meant to get up to (he was disturbed enough that Galgan liking him only means that subpar assassins will be sent against him -- when he realizes that Tuon might well encourage their own kids to kill each other to win her favor, it’s very hard to see him brushing that off). Plus he’s regained his sense of disgust over the damane system. So there are a lot of powderkegs waiting to be blown sky-high for Mat, post-canon.

idk, Mat’s storyline is maybe the one where I most have to untangle whether I dislike it more because I feel like it was executed poorly or if I dislike it because it sets up a situation that will never get resolution. And how connected are those things?

A big frustration that I’ve had with how Jordan and then Sanderson handled Mat’s storyline over the course of the last few books of the series was how many shortcuts were taken with his character and how artificial forcing him into the Seanchans’ arms has felt to me.

a. Mat getting trapped in Ebou Dar and then all the characters involved taking a vow of silence when it came to telling Rand about it. Mat getting trapped in Ebou Dar is plot nonsense: relatively forgivable. But having multiple characters being given the opportunity to change that situation and just... not bothering to do it is... that’s a characterization issue. It severely impacted my feelings about Nynaeve for Jordan to turn her into the kind of person who just doesn’t bother to tell Rand that his best friend was left behind in that kind of perilous situation. Plot manipulations... that’s just how the plot works. But over and over, characters got broken or bent for the purpose of jamming Mat into the Seanchan storyline.

b. Setalle Anan is a minor character, so I get why people don’t care about her, but she’s a character who pretty much completely reverses her characterization between WH & CoT (in WH, she is anti-slavery and finds Mat charming and trustworthy; in CoT & KoD, she protects and waits on Tuon while treating Mat like the dangerous one, including betraying Mat’s secrets to Tuon -- and her betrayals are never acknowledged by the text in any way; she just keeps on being treated as if she’s a friendly supporting character) and, from what I could see, it’s just so obviously done in order to protect Tuon from ever having even a sliver of character growth rather than it making sense for Setalle Anan’s character.

c. We keep tiptoeing up to the brink of Actually Having A Plot Happen with the Seanchan and then backing away at the last minute without really having a good reason to do it. Incredibly frustrating. This was one of my main annoyances with CoT & KoD. And in AMoL, both Rand and Egwene inexplicably back down when they have Tuon on the ropes and off-balance.

d. Mat’s teleportation to Ebou Dar in-between Towers of Midnight and A Memory of Light. I’ve talked about this one a lot but yeah. It’s just... really bad? I do suspect that Sanderson couldn’t figure out any way to actually make it believable that Mat would go to the Seanchan and that’s why he had it all happen off-the-page. But the careless damage that it does to Mat’s characterization is just horrific. Mat gets ripped out of the action of the first third of the book, and doesn’t get to the Last Battle itself until the book is more than half over. Once Mat is actually engaging in the Last Battle, his characterization steadies a lot but especially those first four chapters with Mat, it feels like we’re only working with half of his characterization and the other half has vanished somewhere in-between ToM & AMoL.

(and if Mat hadn’t been cut-and-pasted from the Tower of Ghenjei over to Ebou Dar, then we would have had a full reunion at Merrilor. So I’m annoyed/bitter about that too)

I could keep going but... let’s keep it at four issues for right now so that we’re not here all day, lol.

All of those issues are problems that I had with the execution of the storyline.

I am not inherently opposed to depressing endings for characters that I love but... it has to be done well. It has to make sense. And Mat’s ending just... required cutting away too many parts of him (and other characters) for it to make sense to me.

But though it is not always handled well (to put it mildly), Mat’s storyline with Tuon (and Tylin before her) is an example of the ‘typical gender roles are swapped’ done in a way that is more down to the very core of his storyline than a lot of other storylines, which are more on the surface.

He’s much less politically powerful than his spouse and needs to use guile, intrigue, and manipulation to get his way and try to persuade her to a gentler and kinder path than her warlike nature naturally aligns towards.

He undergoes something of a gender-swapped version of “The Taming of the Shrew” storyline, in which a fiercely independent person gets coerced/’tamed’ into being a properly submissive spouse (or, depending on your interpretation, into pretending to be one) -- many of the tricks that Tuon and Tylin use are similar to what Petruchio does to Katherine in the play. Mat gets publicly humiliated and starved by Tylin into submitting to her (which is what Petruchio does to Katherine during/after their wedding), and isolated away from his past connections during his time with Tuon, where he constantly has to act to try to figure out how to appease her without provoking her temper (Petruchio compares taming Katherine to falcon-taming, but Tuon would probably compare it to horse-training or damane-breaking), and Petruchio changes her name from ‘Katherine’ to ‘Kate’, which fits pretty well with Tuon’s insistence on never once calling Mat ‘Mat’.

Plus Mat getting his name changed to indicate that he now ‘belongs’ to Tuon’s people fits into this general category -- and historically, in the culture that Jordan belonged to, that’s normally a role given to women, to be given a new name that shows that they are now of their husband’s people and not their father’s; it’s usually their last name but, in the not too-distant past (and maybe currently in some places as well, idk), at least in the USA, women were often referred to as Mrs. “husband’s first name” “husband’s last name” with none of their own name making it into the address.

But a lot of the issues that I have with how this was written is that it felt like Mat was behaving like his hand was forced even when it wasn’t. Which is definitely a writing issue -- it’s a similar issue to the one that I have with the Rand & Min romance, for example, where Min desperately chases after something even though she doesn’t really want it at the start. Prophecy gets used as a way to skip actually writing important character or relationship beats, instead of prophecy being one of many tools in the writer’s kit.

So, yeah, it really is the execution of the storyline that is the biggest problem for me with Mat & Tuon, and the way it feels like he is pulled away from his other attachments whether or not that makes any narrative or character sense.

I really hope that the show does better with them, and with Mat in his endgame (should we get there, etc.).

I will say that I do think that Sanderson handled the romance better than Jordan did; the main problem was that it was already fundamentally broken by how the relationship was written in CoT & KoD, imo (the KoD collaring chapter in particular made me despise them as a pairing and my feelings never recovered from that moment). But in Sanderson’s books, we actually see the effects of Tuon compromising with Mat during various points of the Last Battle (though we see don’t actually see their private discussions and/or arguments that lead to those compromises), and there’s always a throughline showing how miserable the Seanchan lifestyle is for Mat, and those are two things that were majorly missing from CoT & KoD for me, but that make sense as the only way to make the romance even half-believable for Mat’s pre-established characterization from WH and earlier.

The three big issues that I have with Sanderson’s Mat are: the terrible first chapter of TGS (with the gross sexism); the terrible first chapter of AMoL (now featuring inexplicable teleportation); and the deep deep disservice done to Mat and Rand’s friendship (Rand got a personal goodbye with EVERYONE important to him EXCEPT Mat! And Mat got a personal reunion with everyone important to him, except Rand! All they got was the negotiation scene that was ultimately all about Fortuona and the Seanchan treaty, with Mat and Rand’s friendship being the set dressing around the scene).

But the relationship with Tuon honestly... makes a lot more sense in this book than it did in CoT & KoD (once we work past the brain-breaking logistics of the first chapter or so). There are TONS of hints that Mat has uncomfortable vibes going on underneath his casual exterior, plus Tuon actually does make some attempts at compromising with him, and if the well hadn’t been poisoned by how much I despised CoT/KoD-era Mat & Tuon then... I might have had a chance at enjoying AMoL-era Mat & Tuon for the toxic trainwreck that it is.

But, like all the characters & relationships in AMoL, we skip some pretty big moments in the Mat & Tuon relationship -- we see the effects of them compromising but we never actually see them coming to that compromise in private, which I feel like we needed after how unyielding and frankly how annoying Jordan made Tuon about everything.

We do end up with a Mat & a ‘Fortuona’ who remain at cross-purposes -- Mat continues to think of and refer to her as ‘Tuon’ while Fortuona has kinda reversed from thinking of him as a ‘buffoon’ to instead believing that he has the same kind of practical motivations behind his choices that she does, which is also not accurate. But Sanderson did add in some actual give-and-take to their relationship, which Jordan never seemed willing to do, so the AMoL-era Mat & Tuon is a lot more genuinely engaging for me, even if I do still think that they are one of the most obviously doomed fictional marriages that I have ever seen.

Final Mat-related question for the moment: the Seanchan Empire is based on authoritarian governments throughout history, so does how the Seanchan Empire operates mimic the behavior of a cult?

The popular model for cults is the BITE model, which was developed by a man who was deprogrammed from the Moon cult in 1976 (Steve Hassan). It’s an acronym:

Behavior, Information, Thought, and Emotion control. BITE.

Do the Seanchan seek to control people’s behavior? (yes) Do they seek to control the flow of information that the people under them learn? (yes) Do they seek to have their members reject critical thought and only apply to the group-think? (yes) Do they manipulate the emotions of their followers, usually instilling fear or paranoia about outsiders? (yes)

We know from earlier books that the Seanchan culture =/= the Seanchan Empire. There are constant civil wars and uprisings in their native land. This is explicitly why they are such good soldiers, because they are always fighting each other. Yet they present themselves as a monolith when they come to the Westlands, bragging about how they’re here to bring ‘order’ to a lawless continent. What they say about themselves does not match the truth of what else we know about them.

How does the Seanchan Empire exercise its control over its people? Everything I included here is something I think we’ve see the Empire do, but I did bold ones that are particularly blatant in the text.

Behavior control: Control types of clothing and hairstyles; permission required for major decisions; rewards and punishments used to modify behaviors both positive and negative; discourage individualism; encourage group-think; impose rigid rules and regulations; punish disobedience by beating, torture, burning, cutting, rape, or tattooing/branding; threaten harm to family and friends; encourage and engage in corporal punishment; instill dependency and obedience; kidnapping; beating; torture; murder

Information control: Distort information to make it more acceptable; systematically lie to the cult members; minimize or discourage access to non-cult sources of information; ensure that information is not freely accessible; control information at different levels and missions within group; allow only leadership to decide who needs to know what and when; encourage spying on other members; impose a buddy system to monitor and control member; report deviant thoughts, feelings, and actions to leadership; ensure that individual behavior is monitored by group; extensive use of cult-generated propaganda

Thought control: require members to internalize the group’s doctrine as truth; adopting the group’s ‘map of reality’ as reality; instill black and white thinking; organize people into us vs them; change person’s name and identity; use of loaded language and cliches which constrict knowledge; encourage only ‘good and proper’ thoughts; thought-stopping techniques to shut down reality testing: denial, rationalization, justification, wishful thinking; rejection of rational analysis, critical thinking, constructive criticism; forbid critical questions about leader, doctrine, or policy; labeling alternative belief systems as illegitimate, evil, or not useful

Emotion control: teach emotion-stopping techniques to block feelings of homesickness, anger, doubt; make the person feel that problems are always their own fault, never the leader’s or the group’s fault; promote feelings of guilt or unworthiness; instill fear, such as fear of: thinking independently, the outside world, leaving or being shunned by the group; ritualistic and sometimes public confessions of sins; phobia indoctrination: inculcating irrational fears about leaving the group or questioning the leader’s authority, no happiness or fulfillment possible outside of group; shunning of those who leave; being told there is never a legitimate reason to leave.

“Destructive mind control can be determined when the overall effect of these four components promotes dependency and obedience to some leader or cause; it is not necessary for every single item on the list to be present.“ (in this case, that would be to the Empress, ~may she live forever~)

(all taken from freedomofmind(dot)com -- not linking because sometimes outside links make tumblr act weird about posts)

On the page, we witness the slow process of Leilwin née Egeanin pulling away and deprogramming from the Seanchan Empire, and then in this book, it feels like Mat has begun that process as well. And it feels like they started the same way -- because of a massive overreach by Tuon, the leader of the cult/Empire. Leilwin née Egeanin gets humiliated and punished by Tuon for no reason; just because Tuon felt like being a brat that day, and that moment of humiliation -- the re-naming and the forcing of the jewelry on her in a way that treated her like a slave -- was really what made Leilwin née Egeanin start to pull away from the other Seanchan and go into the path that eventually led to her being, however briefly, Egwene’s Warder.

For Mat, it really seems like whatever happened in that ‘not pleasant’ discussion that he and Tuon had after she berated him for, essentially, prioritizing Egwene’s privacy over Tuon’s desire to get information from him... that discussion (that we didn’t get to see) really seemed to lead to the more combative Mat who refused to back down and roll over for her. Mat still feels a level of protectiveness and affection for Tuon through the rest of the book but he stops letting her push him around and he starts acting like he cares about doing something about the slavery system in the Seanchan Empire again, which was a part of him that we lost at the start of CoT and I have hated so much that we lost in his character. But it slowly grows back over the course of the second half of AMoL.

Again, my big regret here is that the Mat & Rand reunion happened before Mat started his spine regrowth program. Even though Mat does start to push back on Tuon more here, he still never finished several of his character arcs that were set up over the course of the entire series: namely his own mistrust of Aes Sedai and his fear of Rand as a channeler. Both of those fears were things that he was actively working in the text and that he abruptly backtracked on when Tuon was introduced into his life (because being chill with channelers and being chill with people who enslave channelers is contradictory and so Jordan decided... to go with being chill with slavers). So those are two flapping loose ends for his character at the end of this series that never got to fully be addressed because the ‘romance’ was prioritized over Mat’s characterization.

Loial

Loial is looking for people to help him with accounts for his book and “Perrin ignored me and Mat cannot be found”.

Mat just completely disappearing from the Westlands side of things to go set up a fireworks show for Tuon (and asking Aludra to be the one to set it up, which just seems kinda mean, considering that the Seanchan pretty much completely eliminated the Illuminators) is just... frustrating. Apparently Mat visited the battlefield here “smiling and healthy” but then vanished. So, in theory, there’s an empty place here where Mat might have visited Rand and talked to Elayne & co one last time, since Rand is in the main healing tent on this battlefield.

Loial also notes how odd it is that Elayne and Min don’t seem to feel any urge to go in to hold Rand’s hand while he’s dying (Aviendha is getting her legs looked at). I know, Loial! They’re the worst fake-grievers who ever lived, I swear. If the whole point is to trick people into thinking Rand is dead, then it might be a good idea to... actually try to trick people?

Moghedien

In which Tuon’s people are already breaking the terms of the treaty by snatching up channelers from the battlefield at Merrilor. No hundred years of peace, Rand. I’m sorry.

Rand (& all those who say ‘goodbye’ to him, or who don’t)

Rand leaves the mountain, slipping on his own blood and carrying a body. Shayol Ghul is trying to close before he can leave and he only barely makes it out in time before the cave snaps shut behind him.

Moiraine tells Rand that he did well, and Nynaeve tries desperately to keep him alive, but eventually, and without ever waking back up, ‘Rand’ dies.

Elayne, Aviendha, and Min do the absolute worst job of playing grieving widows ever. Like, if Rand had actually died, I could understand this better. Because they might really be in shock. But they know he’s alive! And their whole job is to convince people that they absolutely believe that he’s dead! Just... pinch your arm until you start crying! This is literally the most suspicious way that they could have gone about things -- Nynaeve is already extremely suspicious of how they’re acting. Seriously, she’s gonna wiggle the truth out of them pretty much five seconds post-epilogue.

Birgitte comes to say goodbye to Elayne because she’s about to be reborn... and to mention that she’s tossed away the Horn of Valere. Sure hope that Elayne doesn’t regret that in ten years when they’re at war with the Seanchan!

Tam hopes that now his son can get some rest. My hope is that Rand will, you know, go and talk to his dad after he’s had a chance to recover from the stress and trauma of the Last Battle. Also, Tam... you’re gonna have grandkids. No thoughts on that, I see. Still no thoughts on that.

The funeral scene frustrates me to pieces.

Honestly, the most frustrating thing about the funeral scene is how easy it would have been to casually mention that Mat and Perrin were there? Like, that’s ONE SENTENCE. Just... the erasure of those years of friendship, because heterosexual marriage, in Jordan’s fictional world, meant that close male-male friendships just stopped existing. It’s depressing. That CADSUANE is considered to have more right to be at Rand’s funeral than his childhood friends who were also vital parts of the Last Battle. It’s insulting. And apparently Tam organized it? But he couldn’t be bothered to invite his kid’s best friends. Definitely a place where Sanderson should have done some editing of the original epilogue. One sentence is all that was needed.

*sigh*

I do think that Sanderson did try to set up why Mat wouldn’t have gone -- we have seen Mat, in several of his recent PoV scenes, swallowing his grief over losing people he loves and not letting it appear to affect him openly, even as it rocked him deeply, so Rand’s death would be another of those gut-punches that he would do his best to pretend didn’t happen. But, fuck... it just sucks that the friendship between Mat and Rand is such a sublimated thing in this last book, when Rand and Mat both got to much more openly deal with pretty much every other important relationship that they had (though I will note that Rand and Sulin never got a reunion either! Rude!).

Perrin didn’t get anything like that kind of subtextual explanation, but Perrin actually did visit Rand’s healing tent while he was dying, so at least he got that much. *shrugs*

Min thinking here about how the assembled people expect a ‘show’ of grief -- yes, they have all found it exceedingly odd that none of you appear to be grieving the man you said that you loved.

Rand wakes up in his new body, washed clean of the wounds that he’d taken over the course of the series. No more missing hand; no more agonizing pain in his side.

I have to admit “she left me some money” feels like a pretty anti-climatic way for Alivia to “help Rand die”? She wasn’t really involved in his “death” at all -- it was really Moiraine and Nynaeve who were the ones who ‘helped’ him die. I mean, any one of Min, Elayne, or Aviendha could have left him some money, since they all know he’s alive. I wonder if Jordan was originally thinking that Alivia would be the one joining Rand & Nynaeve for the cave journey, and it was Sanderson who decided that Moiraine would be more appropriate? Nothing distinctively Moiraine happens in that cave, not the way that Nynaeve was needed to be there to heal Alanna without using the Power. Like, this poor woman was harassed by Min for a handful of books because of that prophecy and all she did was leave Rand some money! Min better find her and apologize to her! (I already know that she won’t)

Haha, so confession: my brain edited out that new!Rand had lost saidin. My brain was just like “nope, of course he can still channel”. Personally, I’m not a huge fan of Rand not being a channeler at the end of the story, so that part I’m not thrilled about. He does have his newfound ability to use the threads of reality to basically channel anyway, though. Or at least I assume that’s what the pipe scene is about.

And then his thought, too, about ‘which’ of the women will follow him - yeah, you’re right that thinking that means you’ve gotten a swollen head! They all have responsibilities! Though since Rand leaves so abruptly here, there’s a lot that he doesn’t know, and the two things that most affect this specific question are: the extent of Aviendha’s injuries and the extent of Min’s involvement with the Seanchan. Literally zero of them is in a position to go chasing after Rand, even if they wanted to! Rand is the one who has no obligations and can easily visit them if he wants (well, maybe not ‘easily’ if Min does end up in the Empire).

But I can still remember, wow, what a relief it was that he was alive at the end, and free and unbound. The rest can be... adjusted by post-canon theories.

In terms of ‘things that aren’t covered but that we can probably assume’:

It does look like Elayne ended up with all three of the medallion copies -- the one Mellar used on her, the one that was on Birgitte’s body, and the third was with Lan and she probably reclaimed it (there’s nothing to indicate that Mat spoke with Lan and got it back), so the slaver empress never gets that medallion that Mat wanted to give her back in ToM. Tragic.

Despite Elayne and Tam speaking frequently over the course of AMoL, they somehow never speak about the whole grandkids issue. I feel like we can assume that this happens at some point, post-epilogue? Elayne and Aviendha both seem like they would go back to Caemlyn to rebuild. And Tam doesn’t really have a reason to go back to the Two Rivers at this point, so I can see him ending in Caemlyn too because: grandkids.

Technically, Min has slipped the Seanchan net at this point and could just not go back if she wants, so she can either go back to the Seanchan or she could go to Caemlyn with Elayne & Aviendha, but if she does stay away from the Seanchan, Tuon is going to try to get her back. Unless she was super-turned off by Min actually standing up to her in front of all the Blood and hastily makes Selucia her Truthspeaker again. That’s another possibility.

Ah, since we were told earlier that Melaine was about ready to give birth and Birgitte tells Elayne that she’s about to be reborn: Melaine might be her mom. I feel like Birgitte being reborn as Aiel sounds kinda fun.

I feel like Rand would not actually enjoy traveling all on his own after a while, given what we know about him, so he would probably end up visiting Caemlyn. And given how suspicious Nynaeve already is in the epilogue, I’m going to guess that she knows the truth by the time Rand goes to Caemlyn.

If Mat decides to leave the Seanchan behind at any point, he will probably also go to Caemlyn, and Mat and Rand can finally have a good reunion.

All in all, there are things about the ending that don’t thrill me but there are also things I really like. And having an ending at all helps in terms of sparking the imagination for fanfiction or meta or... an Amazon Prime television series. I don’t think we would have ever gotten the series if the books had stayed unfinished.

The epilogue checklist (and my theories about how it affected AMoL)

So, while reading AMoL, it felt like Sanderson took a couple of shortcuts in order to bruteforce the characters into reaching their epilogue endpoints, because there simply wasn’t enough time for it to happen naturally. This is my list of things that I believe got shortchanged due to “writing to the epilogue”:

Fortuona is pregnant in the epilogue: at the start of AMoL, Mat gets teleported to Ebou Dar without any kind of narrative or logistical explanation (contradicting his PoV chapter in the ending of ToM, where he was planning to return to Caemlyn, which would have thrust him directly into the main stories at play in the prologue & early chapters). I feel like part of it is that Sanderson really wanted to get that bun in the oven as quickly as possible.

“they expected something from the three of them; a show of some kind” : There’s just a wide acknowledgement in the epilogue that literally everyone knows that Rand has three girlfriends, so everyone just already knows in AMoL that Rand is in a relationship with three women now. No need for anyone to have emotional reactions to it, please! (not even Rand’s literal dad!) This one also ends up being weird because it seems to change from moment-to-moment whether or not the whole army knows that Rand has three girlfriends (if everyone knows already, why is Rand playing spy games with Elayne?).

Min is Fortuona’s pregnancy test: Min instantly respects ~Fortuona~ as an empress even while thinking that she doesn’t normally respect nobility. Bizarre, considering Min’s own history with the Seanchan from Falme.

Mat kills Fain: we got two super-quick glimpses of Fain earlier in the book to set up this moment but Mat had so much other stuff to do that Sanderson couldn’t really do more than say: yeah, Fain exists and he’s bad, lol.

Minor elements I think were affect by the epilogue:

Rand is still pondering over the idea of choosing between Elayne, Aviendha, or Min: we get Rand’s going “am I allowed to love three women? idk sounds fake” when he and Aviendha sleep together in chapter 4, which just was kinda silly. I think the epilogue is also the genesis of the vibe where Rand appears to consider “having sex with Min for months” to not be any kind of “choice” when it comes to the three women, but having a romantic interlude with Aviendha or Elayne would signal a choice -- because the epilogue acts like the situation between Rand and each of the three women is roughly equal, so “months of sex with Min” appears to hold the same emotional weight to Rand as “pining from afar with two nights of intense passion” does when he thinks of either Elayne or Aviendha.

Mat has no thoughts about any of the Westlands characters: I think that this is more of a subconscious effect -- as he focused more on the final book, I think Sanderson focused on the relationships highlighted in the all-important epilogue... and the only person that Mat cares about in the epilogue is himself *cough* I mean, Fortuona, of course, lol. In both TGS and in ToM, Mat’s deep affection for various Westlands characters was constantly on display, as shown in his own ‘loves lying to himself’ way. This gets curtailed in AMoL, especially in the early Ebou Dar chapters.

I think I’m going to let myself might let myself marinate over the various books before I post a final list of my personal ranking of the books.

One thing that I’ve really noticed is that, more than any other character, the quality of Mat’s storyline has a huge impact on my overall enjoyment of the book. In CoT & KoD, Elayne and Egwene (both of whom I love), got pretty good stories. But Mat’s story was so bad that it made it difficult for me to enjoy the good parts. But maybe some time just letting myself think about the series as a whole will balance out my thoughts. Does that make Mat my favorite character or just my most impactful character? idk. I feel like Elayne or Rand would more consistently hit the top of my favorites.

Overall top five characters throughout the entire series:

1. Elayne

2. Rand

3. Egwene

4. Mat (might be higher if not for CoT & KoD)

5. Nynaeve (might be higher if she didn’t basically disappear after she married Lan)

Then, moving on to the next favs, I think there’s more uncertainty there for me:

6. Verin, probably, but it could be Moiraine. Let’s say they tie.

7. Aviendha and Siuan can both go here. Both generally very good and interesting characters.

8. You know, I had a real turnaround with Gawyn in this reread of the books; I’m gonna put him here. He can share this spot with Leilwin née Egeanin.

9. Loial, probably. Needed more PoV; that would have been nice. I’ll put Faile here with him.

10. For more minor characters, I gotta give a shout-out to Narishma (favorite Asha’man), Sulin, Pevara during her Black Ajah Hunter phase, Olver is really good in his sections here in AMoL, Asmodean for being my favorite fail-Forsaken and Moghedien for sticking it out until the very end, Elaida honestly very fun PoV as far as villains go, Teslyn and Joline for being troopers and enduring Mat Cauthon at his very worst, my girl Berelain who always deserved better, the ‘Finn in general always lots of fun, Aludra and Juilin who always kept their integrity intact.

#wot #wheel of time #wot reread #wot book spoilers #wot spoilers #wot amol spoilers #wot a memory of light spoilers #mat cauthon #rand al'thor #elayne trakand #so it really feels like the 'main characters' of the actual last battle #were rand mat egwene and elayne #with everyone else being more of a secondary character #who helped the one of those main four storylines #posting this today because ao3 is being slightly iffy right now #so i'm going to post the next chapter of voice on thursday #and just give ao3 some time to work out whatever the connection issues are

139 notes · View notes