#100 days without them feels like a lie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zara-renata · 1 month ago

Text

Control | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary:

You are feeling a bit depressed after completing a mission that didn't go 100% the way you wanted. Mephisto, and then Sylus, pay you a visit to cheer you up.

Notes:

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, a little Sylus POV This is not actually strictly part of the Sylus series, but rather a bit of an interlude outside of the series I'm writing because it doesn't advance the plot and I don't know where I'd fit it in. I was having an awful day earlier this week and wrote this purely to make myself feel better. I hope it does the same for others. It doesn't contain all the same triggers as the series (but I'd still advise checking the CWs) and can be read as a standalone if you'd like. This story contains: sfw, pure self-indulgent hurt/comfort for overachievers who, despite doing their very best, still feel like they didn't do enough, fluff, banter, tender Sylus, clingy Sylus, still-bit-of-a-jerk-Sylus, CWs: grief, discussion of the realities of law enforcement and innocent civilian death as a result of criminal activity, violence typical of the game and Sylus's criminal tendencies, mention of slight depression and feelings of emptiness.

Here you are, again. It has been a long day, a long week, a long month. You’ve been called out almost every shift to counter an increased spurt of wanderer attacks, while also trying to execute a carefully orchestrated undercover mission to stem the tide of illegal modified protocore weapons that recently flooded the black market by arms smugglers.

No, not Sylus. He’s too clever to put himself on the Association’s radar for his arms dealing in a way that could result in a trap being set for him.

No, the idiots you were going after couldn’t hold a candle to Sylus.

But their activity resulted in civilians being caught in the crossfire, and you had spent the last month seeing firsthand the carnage left behind after a gang battle erupted on the outskirts of Linkon City. You forced yourself to look at the broken bodies and broken families of the people affected, boots crunching on shattered glass, trailing bloody footprints on the cracked tarmac of the street. You would not allow your… situationship with Sylus to blind you to the reality of what his line of work could do to people. People just trying to live their lives, make their rent, raise their children–to survive a life that’s already painful and short enough already, without people like the assholes you just finished bringing down tonight arming other assholes with weapons that no one should be able to access. Weapons designed with one purpose in mind: maximum damage, minimum finesse. Weapons designed as if collateral damage is a feature and not a bug.

You’re tired. Days like this have always happened to you, even before you became a Hunter. The lethargy seeping through your body, the disinterest in doing anything that normally makes you happy. You lie on your bed, staring blankly through your gauzy curtains, the autumn wind driving the intermittent raindrops against the glass of your window. Each one a crystalline jewel, splattering, liquid diamonds trailing down the pane like tears.

You have the evening stretching before you, and you want to enjoy it, you do. But you can’t seem to make yourself get up, as your mind drifts to the images you made yourself engrave in your brain. The least those people deserved was you to bear witness, and ensure that you never forget, since your work as a Hunter came too late to help them, in the end.

You turn your gaze away from the gloomy late afternoon, let it wander over the riot of plants hanging from your ceiling and along the shelving in your room. Life continues. Proof of it is right here in your bedroom, the plants turning carbon dioxide into oxygen for you to breathe with your healthy lungs. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

Before, you might have dropped in on your grandmother, making her a meal and sharing it in quiet companionship. If Caleb weren’t on a flight mission, you might have asked him to go on a run or to the gym with you, worked off some of this jittery aggression on the mats or by pushing your lungs past their capacity in an effort to leave him laughing in your dust.

But they’re gone now, of course. Victims of the same type of assholes you took down today.

You should be reveling in the success of your mission, but all you can see is the still form of one victim in particular, a snapshot in your memory of their slender wrist, their half-opened hand, lying in the street amongst the glittering shards of glass and scorch marks on the asphalt.

This empty feeling will pass. You know that. You have enough life experience to understand that feelings like this, moods like this, ebb and flow like Rafayel’s tide. So what if it’s harder now, to pull yourself out of them when you find yourself drifting in this sorrowful sea, because your support network has been washed away? That doesn’t mean you’ll feel like this forever. Only that it might take a little longer to drag your tired body off the bed, to refill your empty tank and survive and maybe enjoy another day.

Suddenly, you hear a tapping. You turn your head back to the window. Mephisto is perched on the other side of the glass, gently pecking the pane. He tilts his head and regards you with one glittering red eye.

You haven’t seen Sylus for several weeks now, both of you busy with your respective occupations, and you, doubly busy with the undercover mission. He has sent photos, here and there–blurry pictures of a black cat, a flock of birds in flight against an evening sky, the setting sun’s rays the color of fire and blood. He has asked how you’re doing, and you’ve lied and said you’re fine. He sent you a photo of a glass of wine on a low table near a roaring fire. “You should be here,” he’d captioned it.

Despite all of your complicated feelings about who he is, who he was to you when you first met him, what he does to afford his huge open hearth fireplace and all the finest things in life, you wished you were there with him too.

But you weren’t, and you haven’t been for awhile now. Over the past few weeks, you’ve seen Mephisto in the trees, heard his grating call over the sounds of traffic. But he hasn’t approached you, until today. Normally you would play your typical cat and mouse game with him, or rather, crow and worm, and you’d grab your paintball gun and see how good your aim is as he flaps outside your window, or you’d lure him in with a treat and lock him in the bathroom and wait and see how long it takes Sylus to send Luke and Kieran to set him free. You like to think of it as enrichment activities for both the crow and his owner–you’re not going to make it easy for Sylus to stalk you. He might get bored, after all.

But you just don’t have it in you, today. You slip off the bed and pad to the window, throwing it open. Rain mists your face, drawing goosebumps up your bare arms. Mephisto watches you, and caws softly. You’d call it a coo, if it wasn’t such a horrible sound. Much like his owner’s attempt at a lullaby. You back away, slip back onto the bed. If he’d like to come in, he’s welcome.

You return to staring at your bedroom walls. After a while, you hear the flapping of wings, and suddenly Mephisto lands next to you on the duvet. He shakes his mechanical feathers, and water droplets are flung onto the fabric and the mountain of pillows.

“Thanks, buddy,” you murmur, watching as he uses his beak to groom himself. It’s uncanny, sometimes, how alive-acting he is. Like a real bird. You’ve always wanted a pet. You know that Sylus insists that Mephisto is not a pet, but you really can’t see the difference. Mephisto clearly likes his owner, and does his job dutifully, and sometimes you think, with great pleasure. He drops little destroyed bits of surveillance hardware at Sylus’s feet on occasion, like a real crow bringing something shiny to a human who was previously kind to him.

Curiously, but without much expectation, you extend your hand to the bird. He hops backward, away from you, but remains on the bed. “May I pet you?” you ask.

He cocks his head, makes soft little chirruping noises in his mechanical throat. You let your hand fall to the duvet, palm up, and close your eyes. It’s nice to have company, in any case.

After a while, you feel him hopping again, and then something cold and smooth hesitantly nudges your palm. You open your eyes. Mephisto is gently pecking your palm. He nudges it, then bobs his head, observing you with his beautiful ruby eye.

“Is that a yes?” you ask. In response, he sits down, nestling into your duvet. You lift your hand, and he lets you run your fingertips along the top of his head and along the smooth, cool metal feathers along his back.

Every few minutes, he ruffles his feathers and readjusts his position, slowly inching his way closer to you on the bed. Finally, he is resting against your thigh, within easy reach of your hand, head tucked into one of his wings like he’s ready for a nap.

The open window lets the brisk, rainy autumn evening in, and the light slowly fades. Eventually, you manage to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

And this is how Sylus finds you, towards midnight. He lets himself in through your front door, using the fingerprint scanner he reprogrammed to accept his own as well as yours. He enjoyed seeing the look on your face, when you figured out that’s how he had gotten into your apartment without the key you had offered and he had refused. Your angry facial expression is worth more than all of his dragon’s hoard of wealth, in his trustworthy opinion.

He notes that the temperature in your apartment is surprisingly cool, even through the warm wool of his thick black coat. He had sent Mephisto to check on you, but he hasn’t managed to get an update since the bird was tapping at your window, sending back images to Sylus’s phone of you lying on the bed in your sleep clothes, awake, but not looking at your phone or watching your wall-screen, even though it hadn’t even been dinner time yet. He had told himself not to worry, that you were probably just tired after the past grueling month. But now he is worrying. He slides off his black monk strap shoes, and places them neatly along your entryway wall. Despite the faint worry edging up his spine, he takes the time to neatly line up your own hastily kicked off boots next to his, because he also worries that you’re going to trip and break your neck one of these days on all the shit you just leave scattered around on your floor, too exhausted to immediately tidy them up and put them away.

He makes his way through your dark apartment, picking up discarded clothing and folding them over his arm to put in your laundry basket, and quietly steps into your bedroom.

No wonder it’s cold in here–your window is wide open. It’s no longer raining, but the chill night air drifts into your bedroom and stirs the leaves of your indoor plants. You’re buried in your duvet, curled around an equally nestled Mephisto, who deigns to lift his head from where he had it tucked under his wings. He caws softly, as if to tell Sylus to be quiet and to not wake Sylus’s sweet little Hunter.

“This is dereliction of duty,” Sylus quietly scolds the bird, lifting the lid of your laundry basket next to your closet and neatly putting the clothes inside. He goes to the window and shuts it, and then draws the gauzy as well as the blackout curtains against the night outside. He returns to the living room, hangs up his coat, and brings a glass of water back to your bedroom.

He leans over the bed and pokes Mephisto. “You’re in my spot.” The bird puffs up his feathers a little in indignation and caws quietly.

“Nope, out. You’ve had your turn.” Sylus prods him again, and finally Mephisto ruffles his wings, hops to his feet, and flaps off to the living room, making disgruntled noises as he goes. Sylus sympathizes, but doesn’t feel guilty at all for dislodging him from your side. It’s Sylus’s turn now.

He slips out of his slacks, pulls his sweater and undershirt over his head, and slides under the blanket next to you. You sigh in your sleep, frowning a little, and Sylus runs his finger between your eyebrows, smoothing the furrow there. If he could, he’d reach into your dreams and crush anything that would cause such an expression on your face in his bare hands. Unfortunately, that’s not one of the perks of the aether core in his eye. He settles for plastering his body against your back and wrapping an arm around you, running his nose along your neck and inhaling the scent of your hair. The distance between Linkon City and the N109 zone is getting harder and harder for him to handle gracefully.

While you’ve been busy taking down the low level morons playing at being arms smugglers, Sylus has also been busy for the past few weeks, negotiating deals, consolidating his power, tightening his grip in his efforts to acquire a monopoly on the illegal protocore arms trade in both the N109 zone and Linkon City. He’s making progress, but his work is not yet done. He’s tired, and he has spent every day of the past month missing you. Now that he knows your latest mission is over, he intends to soak in your presence for as long as you’re available, before he has to head back out into the cold gloom without you again.

Sylus closes his eyes. Just for a moment. He’ll check in on some online auctions in a few minutes, review the stock market moves of the day and reconsider investments, but for just this moment, he’ll hold you in his arms, and warm your cold hands in his warm palms.

And that’s how you find yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning, a big warm body pressed against yours. You blink, note the time of two in the morning. You reach out and feel around, setting your bedside lamp to its dimmest setting so that you can see in the pitch-black room. You turn your head, and find Sylus’s sleeping face on the pillow next to yours, looking more peaceful than he ever appears when awake. The furrow between his brows is almost nonexistent, and his mouth is soft, plush lips parted a little. In this moment, you can imagine him as a little boy, angelic in sleep, mischievous while awake. Your heart hurts a little, imagining what kind of life that little boy had to endure to become the sleeping panther next to you tonight.

You turn fully, brush your nose against his, and then cuddle into him, head tucked into his neck. You breathe him in. He smells like warm, sleepy Sylus, a little sweaty under the duvet. You resist the urge to lick him.

“This is the best way to wake up from a nap,” his hoarse, sleep-filled voice vibrates through you.

You laugh softly. “Good, because this is the only package we offer tonight. No refunds.”

“I wouldn’t dream of returning this experience.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You both lie like that for a while, the sound of the wind outside and your combined quiet breathing the only sounds filtering through the room.

You had fallen asleep feeling empty, but waking up with this elusive man in your bed has you feeling sated. Refueled. Full. You sigh. How is it possible that a man who is responsible for the same things as those assholes you apprehended yesterday can make you feel like this? You remember that person lying in the street, eyes that will never see again, a parent who will never come home again. As if they were just sleeping. But as you stood over them, you knew better–your heart was the gravity well of a black hole, and you felt like you would fold in on yourself from the weight. If only you had been a little quicker, a little cleverer. If only you could disintegrate another human being like Sylus can, with just a gesture. You could have disappeared the assholes who were responsible for this person’s death, an entire life, someone’s baby at some point, brought into the world with love and effort and surviving each and every day, right up until the day you found yourself standing over them, as they lay broken in the street. And they died, for what? For some senseless, stupid feud over money? Turf? A feud they had absolutely nothing to do with. Fuck . You’re feeling sick again.

You burrow deeper into Sylus’s warmth.

“Speak,” Sylus says.

You pull back slightly and look up into his sleep-bleary face.

“Speak?”

“Are we a parrot tonight?” He smiles, eyes heavy-lidded.

“A parrot?”

“And a comedian, ladies and gentlemen,” he leans forward, nuzzles your nose with his.

“Don’t get too close, I probably have morning breath,” you murmur.

“Ah, so you can formulate your own thoughts.” He nuzzles the side of your mouth. “Do I look like a give a fuck if you have morning breath? I probably do too.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then you yawn, widely.

He runs his hand down your side and pinches your hip. You yelp.

“Don’t change the subject,” he commands. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I can hear it racing from here–I’m pretty sure it’s what woke me up from my pleasant nap.”

“Oh, did I disturb his royal highness’s beauty sleep?”

“Yes, so you owe me. The compensation is telling me what had you staring into the void yesterday, and what made you sound so sad just now while enjoying being wrapped in my extraordinary arms. Many people would pay a lot to be in the position you’re in right now,” he says smugly.

“Yes, in order to slit your throat.”

He huffs. You note that he’s wrong; you’re probably the only one with morning breath. He somehow manages to just smell good. Toothpaste and mouth. You want to lick his teeth. “You’re probably not wrong.” He pauses. “Please talk to me. I’ve gotten used to hearing your worries. You can shut everyone else out, but I don’t like it when you shut me out too.”

You roll away from him, but his arm around you prevents you from going far. You glance at your windows, but the blackout curtains block even the city lights.

“I’ve just. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things over the past few weeks.”

“Uh oh. Nothing ever good comes from that,” he teases. You swat him in the chest. His body shakes with quiet laughter.

“Do you want to know or not?” you gripe.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t make it clear that you won’t be accepting editorial commentary at this time. But I’ve learned my lesson. Continue.”

You throw your arm over your eyes and laugh. You can’t help it. Even when you’re feeling at your worst, this man manages to make you laugh. But you feel guilty for laughing, because the person you can’t get out of your head, this stranger who you were unable to save, will never laugh again. You hate it.

You sigh. “I’ve always struggled with the fact that my evol seems to have only a support function. Like, I often need a partner in order to be optimally effective in battle against wanderers, because otherwise it’s just me and whatever my physical talents are. Which, though amazing,” you sniff, “are often just, not enough when dealing with the kind of creatures that I often have to deal with.” You fall silent, imagining if you could set shit on fire like Rafayel without resorting to a flamethrower, or freezing a swathe of enemies all at once like Zayne. The battles you would wage would be epic.

“And I’m obviously competent at eliminating wanderers–I can usually arrive before the damage occurs. I can actually help people. And wanderers, they’re not like human perpetrators. They have no ill intent. They’re like animals, driven by instinct. Even when I do arrive too late, it feels more like a natural disaster than a malicious injustice. Of course, it’s still awful when someone dies for something so senseless, but that’s been the case for all of humanity’s history in the face of stronger predators.” Your mind races. You’re trying so hard to articulate what has been weighing on you. “But that’s only one part of my job. The other side of it, the side that involves going after humans with ill-intent, that’s a lot more complicated. So often, I arrive after the damage has already been done. I feel like the cleanup crew, completely useless to the normal people who just are trying to get through the day who get caught up in other peoples’ cruelty. It’s not like evil assholes announce their arrival with a metaflux fluctuation like wanderers do. I’m just.. too late, too often.” You try to imagine everything you’d do if you had Sylus’s power. You’d probably turn into a supervillain too, to be honest.

You fall quiet again. Sylus props his head on his hand and runs a finger along your clavicle with his free hand. You enjoy the feel of his calloused fingertip along your skin.

“And what else? I’m sensing there’s more to this story.”

You don’t want to hurt him. But you also don’t want to lie to him. “I just can’t reconcile the fact that I spent the last month tracking down the arms smugglers that I managed to catch yesterday, and I’d have gladly killed them if given half a chance. If I could snap my fingers like you, and just fucking annihilate them. But here I am, lying here in bed, with you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the face as you say this.

You feel Sylus’s fingers begin to trail up your forearm and gently encircle your wrist, pulling your arm away from your eyes. You turn and look into his face.

“I’m certainly glad you’re not in bed with them now, sweetheart,” he says drily. “I don’t think there would be room for all of us, what with your army of plushies and my impressive physique.”

You groan.

“So let me get this straight. You’re upset because you feel like your skills aren’t sufficient to protect every single person who is in need of help. You’re upset that you can’t kill with a thought. And you’re upset because you would have killed these guys, who are in the same business as me, but you refuse to do the same to me?”

It sounds so simple, succinctly listed like that, for how heavy your heart feels. For the emptiness you felt, instead of triumph, after successfully protecting a lot of people over the last month, and getting a few more petty dealers off the street so they can't contribute to hurting anyone else in the future.

The bit about Sylus being the same as those criminals, without meeting their fate, on the other hand. That doesn’t sound simple at all.

You nod. “Instead of feeling like I did well, and taking the free time I have after I’ve completed a job to enjoy myself, or do something that makes me happy, all I can do is think about all the ways I failed, or how could have done it better, or how I’m still not doing everything I should be doing to help people. That’s why I was …staring at the void, as you put it. I couldn’t imagine one thing that I wanted to do with the free evening I had.”

Sylus pokes you in the forehead. “I knew you were arrogant, and greedy. I just never realized how much until this moment,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

You jerk back from his touch. “I pour my heart out to you, and you call me arrogant and greedy?” He lifts his eyebrows at your outburst. “The fuck, Sylus?”

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Mephisto.” He drapes an arm back over you and pulls you back into his warmth.

“Oh nooo, wouldn’t want to wake your mechanical murder bird,” you bite out, but quietly. You feel like you have a new understanding with Mephisto now that he let you pet him and you shared a nap with him. It’s not his fault that his owner is an insensitive asshole.

“No, we wouldn’t,” he agrees placidly. “Would you care to know why I am rightfully pointing out that your attitude about what you 'should' be capable of is arrogant and greedy? Or do you just want to stay upset about it for a little longer? I can wait.”

You scowl at him. “Oh, I’m happy to wait if you keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You put your palm on his face and push him away. He rolls away with a soft laugh.

“Just tell me,” you grumble. “And then go home. I’m suddenly not feeling like company anymore.”

“Hmm,” he props himself back up on his hand. “You have an incredibly powerful aether core in your heart, one that is coveted by countless people.” He rests his other hand over your heart as he speaks. “You've recently increased its power by absorbing the power of another aether core. You can heal other evolvers, resonate with them to exponentially increase their power, and probably do a lot more than you’re aware of yet. You’ve probably not even scratched the surface of what it can do for you.”

You look away, but enjoy the press of his palm against you.

“You have extraordinary physical capabilities–I’m not just patronizing you when I said that I’d rather have you at my back than anyone else I know, even without your evol.” He reaches for your cheek, and gently tilts your head to look at him again. His wine-dark gaze drifts over your face. “And you’re not the only Hunter in the Association. If only one person were capable of doing your job, there would be no Association at all. You can’t expect to be one-hundred percent successful, one-hundred percent of the time. Not even I am greedy enough to feel like I should be able to have that kind of success rate. And I’m also not arrogant enough to expect that of myself. I can’t run Onychinus alone. I rely on many subordinates and competent people to take care of the business when my attention is elsewhere.” He looks at you pointedly, as if you’re the elsewhere slurping up all of his attention.

You blow a raspberry at him.

More quickly than you thought he could move, he snatches your tongue between his thumb and forefinger and gently wags it. His skin is salty. “Da thuck, Thylus?”

“Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want me to take it,” he wags it once more, as if to emphasize his point, and then lets go. “Next time I won’t give it back.”

You suppress the urge to just slobber all over his face in retaliation.

“So yes. I find the expectations you have for yourself to be arrogant and greedy, and entirely excessive. Do you think that your colleagues are failures, or haven't done enough, when they return from missions that went tits up, or when they failed to protect one hundred percent of those threatened?"

You scowl. Of course not. You know that they work their asses off to the best job they can. You'd never think less of them for having a bad day, or a bad mission. For people dying on their watch. But they're not you.

"Kitten, you’re doing your best, with everything you have in you. The world is cruel, and so are the people in it. You can’t control that. But you can control what you do about that cruelty. You're already fighting as hard as you can--too hard, if you want my valuable opinion."

"Trying as hard as I can with as much hardware and bodywork I can exploit. But it's just no the same as having your evol," you grumble. You might be slightly jealous of Sylus's power. Just slightly.

Sylus huffs, sounding a little impatient. "If it's not enough for you to be a walking grenade launcher, and you're frustrated that you can’t disintegrate those you want to eliminate with a snap of your fingers, just bring me with you. You can control me, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

You just stare at him, mouth hanging open a little. He lifts his hand and chucks you under your chin with his thumb to close it. “Why so shocked?”

“Aside from the fact that you just offered to murder for me?” you ask, shaking your head a little.

“I already have murdered for you. I’d do a lot more than that, for you.” He pulls you into his side again and rests his head on your shoulder. “So don’t be too greedy. You're already very talented at what you do. You have control over the most powerful person in the N109 zone. The people you work to protect every single day are lucky that you are on the Association’s side, and not anyone else’s. You can’t save the entire world from injustice. But you can continue doing your best, with your already impressive skills, to protect as many people as you can. And if anyone tries to tell you that what you’re doing isn’t enough, you can send them to me. Including yourself. I will take care of them for you.”

You turn your head and rest your cheek in his silky hair. You breathe deeply and feel your heart settle in your chest. You notice that he hasn’t addressed the fact that he’s involved in the same business as the people you took down yesterday. But you don’t care. You know, somehow, in the calm beating of your heart, that he isn’t anything like them. He isn’t anything like them at all.

Your thoughts drift to a slender wrist, to an open palm. You will never forget this person. Hopefully you can honor them, in some small way, by continuing to force yourself to look, and not surrendering to the horror of it. You will keep going. Maybe next time, you'll arrive in time. You hope it is enough. And you'll also try to hear what Sylus is telling you. All you can give is your everything. No one can ask more of you than that, even if it's you who is asking.

As you continue rubbing your cheek in his hair like a cat, he speaks again. "And as for you not arresting me... or taking advantage of your position and slitting my throat." You freeze. You thought maybe you could just pretend you hadn't expressed this worry tonight. "Have you ever considered the possibility that, in order to treat an infection, it's not sufficient to just address the symptoms?"

For a second you feel like you can hear Zayne coming out of Sylus's mouth, and you're totally weirded out. "What do you mean?" you reluctantly ask.

"Sometimes, the only way to destroy a rotten core is to work from the inside out. It's not enough to desperately amputate the affected limbs. And that kind of work requires getting your hands dirty."

You feel like he just told you something very important. But you can also sense that he won't explain anything else tonight. This is the closest the two of you have ever gotten to actually discussing the substance of his work, and you're satisfied with that. The certainty you felt before, about him being utterly different than the others, settles deeper into your bones. You relax into him again.

“And your last worry. About not knowing what to do with yourself when you’ve completed something extraordinary, and find yourself with some free time on your hands… just call me. We can figure out what to do together.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. If you do, you might start crying and not be able to stop. He is everything you needed tonight. You just press closer into him, hoping he can hear everything you can’t say out loud yet.

“So, still not feeling like company anymore?” Sylus asks, after you’ve sat in peaceful silence for a few moments. “Or am I allowed to stay?”

“Would you go even if I asked you to?” You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, and he makes a pleased noise deep in his throat.

“If I thought that was what you really wanted, sweetheart.”

And you believe him.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #lnds #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace fanfiction #my fanfic #please enjoy this soft sylus #the next actual plot part of the sylus series is written and waiting for gali's beta reading #i'm hoping to post it this weekend

356 notes · View notes

voikiraz · 7 days ago

Text

Lover ; niki 니키 .

Lovers . bf!niki x fem!reader w. None i think step ? #758 M.recordings ! [ i cant believe its overrr, but im so grateful for the love yall gave this seriesand im glad you enjoyed ittt ! Mwahh ]

Syn. Lover niki and actions he does that makes you fold every time

ꕤ ni-ki always has a thing for making you origami stuff, whenever you meet up, he has something made out of paper for you, a flower on a picnic date, a bird while you're watching the sunrise, an animal when you're in a pet shop cause you're thinking of adopting a pet, a little envelope with a paper that has his number even though you already have it, everything, you name it.

One day you decided to show up unannounced at his dorm.

You had made him an origami flower, deciding to pay him back for all the hard work he put into the ones he made you, you knew how hard it is from the constant tries that you were taking, over and over again.

You knocked on his door three times then waited, humming to some song while waiting for someone to open the door.

Once the door opened, a shocked niki stood in front of you.

"What are you doing here?"

"Is that how you greet your girlfriend?" You ask, frowning.

"No- I'm sorry I just-" he tries to reason but then a smiley jake pops up from behind him.

"He was making you an origami bouquet and he doesn't want you to know" Jake says, rolling his eyes as riki groans, there goes the surprise.

ꕤ TRUST ME WHEN I TELL YOU. this boy 100% has a locked folder of a ton of pictures of you. He can have pictures from your born day and you would never know where he got them from.

He probably bribed your dad to get these photos.

And the way he takes pictures of you all the time.

If you two meet on campus on a busy day and you only have 2 minutes to talk, HE WILL TAKE A PIC OF YOU.

he just loves you like that, and he probably looks at these pictures all the time.

You thought he just takes pics for fun and delets them later, but you found out that it's totally the opposite.

"Yo niki, can I change the song?" Sunoo asks from the passenger seat, niki sitting right behind him with the aux plugged in his phone.

"Yeah sure" niki hands him his phone, being stupid enough to not close the opened folder that's FLOODED with your pics.

"Do you seriously have a full folder of y/n pictures?" Sunoo says and nikis eyes widen, snatching his phone from sunoos hold as you stare at him with a smile.

"Wait you do? I want to see" you say and he just rolls his head back, wondering why everything gets exposed by his bandmates, he can never live in peace.

ꕤ anywhere, everywhere, all the time. Your scrunchie or hair tie is always around his srist.

First sleepover? He stole a hair tie.

You went out on a cafe date and you need to tie your hair? He has one!

It's the start of his concert but he almost forgot to take off your hair scrunchie from his wrist.

He always will Have one.

It came to a point where fans started questioning it.

Whenever he comes over he steals one, or whenever you let your hair down, he just steals it and never returns it.

You started to think you will never see them again (you won't)

He has a collection. Trust me.

It just makes him feel close to you, but he will never say it, he hides it by saying 'you always lose your hair ties, and you always whine when we're out that you want to tie your hair that's why I have one with me'

Total lie, but you find him adorable so you let him.

ꕤ okay this may sound stupid, but you and niki would definitely buy colouring books and colour together when you're alone in the dorm, away from the eyes of your friends.

Now look me in the eyes and say he wouldn't do that.

One day you were hanging together and you saw he had a colouring game so you just bought some colouring books without saying anything to him.

And then you just go to his dorm, your bag filled with colours and colouring books, and you 'force' him to colour with you.

(You let him pick the drawing)

You two took it so seriously, assigning each one with colours and the spaces they should colour, and you definitely made a competition about who would and wouldn't go out of line.

It just became your thing at this point.

222 notes · View notes

hannahhook7744 · 1 month ago

Text

Why Franklin and Maryann Portman are the Worst™ (Part 1)!;

I want to preface this by saying that I know that by no means Franklin and Maryann Portman are the actual worst parents in fiction or in this series even.

Of course they aren't.

But that doesn't mean that I can't still refer to them as the worst™ for them being shitty. Even if I do believe that on some leave that they do care about/love their son.

I also wanna point out that it's been awhile since I read the books so I'm going off my memory and the wiki for this. So I may forget some context of why this or that happens, and if I do that, feel free to comment it down below respectfully. And if I forget something that you find shitty that they did, also feel free to reblog or comment it down below because I would love to talk about these characters and fandom more.

Am I saying that Abe Portman is 100% perfect and did nothing wrong whatsoever? No, that would go against how his character is betrayed in the books—as a flawed traumatized man who did his best to be there for his family and keep them and himself (as well as others) safe and went about some things the wrong way.

Now that that's out of the way…

According to the wiki:

“Jacob was born on Halloween, and up until he was eight years old was convinced by his parents that trick-or-treating candy was birthday presents (something apparently revealed in Hollow City).”

These people are rich.

R-I-C-H.

Rich enough that Jacob’s dad can study birds and volunteer and write mine books that he never publishes without the worry of them not having anything to eat.

R-I-C-H enough that Jacob comments that “I did love her, of course, but mostly because loving your mom is mandatory, not because she was someone I think I'd like very much if I met her walking down the street. Which she wouldn't be, anyway; walking is for poor people.” And rich enough that they gave their kid their four year old sundan so that they could get a brand new car.

And for eight years, they had their son believing that candy was a birthday present.

1. Now, look. I get it. Birthday shopping is hard, especially for a little itty bitty kid but not actually having the money to buy your only kid gifts and choosing not to because people are handing out candy on that day anyway? That's not a very nice thing to do for that long.

They let him go through three years of school thinking that and we never learned how he found out that was a lie. That's not even including the fact that the rest of their extended family let this lie continue (assuming they knew).

Can you imagine if Jacob found out because he mentioned this to his classmates or a teacher? Maybe a teacher or family member could salvage the situation but little kids can be brutal, especially towards other little kids who they think are wrong and considering we know that in that same year, Jacob was pants-ed causing him to stop believing anything Abe said…. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility tl believe that one of Jacob's classmates got in a fight with him over it and caused some kind of embarrassing, painful memory.

Though I guess it's a good thing they didn't get Jacob birthday presents that early on considering my second point.

2. The birthday scene.

Look at his birthday scene.

This scene? Shouldn't really exist.

Not because I hate birthday scenes but because Jacob literally told his parents he didn't want a party which under normal circumstances is a reasonable ask within itself. But these? These aren't even normal circumstances.

Jacob doesn't want a party because the one person he'd actually want there, in his own words, is his grandpa. His grandpa who died in his arms nine months before and who Jacob has been viciously mourning for said nine months. His grandpa whose death caused Jacob's ‘mental breakdown’.

Whose house they had also cleaned out recently, doing shit all for the now sixteen year old’s mental health and grief.

But what do his parents do?

Throw him a surprise party.

A surprise party.

For their jumpy traumatized son who found his grandpa bleeding out in the dark after getting attacked by a monster (or ‘rabid dogs’) and who has been sleeping in the fucking laundry room.

Why on earth would going against his wishes be good for him? He said he didn't want a party and under these circumstances, it's even more understandable. If you really want your son to socialize or to celebrate, then get him a cake or some food he likes and invite his friend over. Talk to him.

Don't throw him a party he doesn't want and don't throw the kid who's been having non-stop nightmares about the monsters who killed his grandfather a fucking surprise party.

To make matters, in this party:

One of his uncles he’s not close to tries to spring a summer trip to his house on him, listing shit that he likely knows Jacob doesn't like with no previous warning to the kid himself (his parents were just planning to ship him off, whether he wanted it or not).

They're calling Jacob's apparent disorder ‘his thing’.

And nobody is actually getting him anything he wants. Just shit they've been gifted and are trying to get rid of.

Gifts like CD's of country Christmas music or subscriptions to Field and Stream (because his Uncle Les thinks he's outdoorsy, this one I can understand slightly since Jacob did want to be an adventurer but still).

The only exceptions being:

1. The key to the family four-year-old sedan, which Jacob is embarrassed to be receiving in front of Ricky (who Jacob hasn't talked to in a long while after a fight they had).

And

2. A camera Jacob had been wanting for ages (since last summer) from his parents….who likely only gifted it to him because of his dad's new book.

Which leads to his mom drunkeningly making front of her husband at her sixteen year old’s birthday party…. Real classy.

Oh and 3. A book that belonged to Abe that Jacob's parental Aunt Susie snagged trom the house when they were cleaning it out. A book titled “The Selected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson”.

She gave this to him, saying it was from Abe because he'd written Jacob's name in it.

Thoughtful right?

Well everyone else doesn't think so because they go quiet. Jacob's mom, Maryann even while drunk, tries to say it was thoughtful and that she didn't know Abe was a reader.

Meanwhile Jacob's dad, Franklin, is barely hiding how pissed he is.

Like dude.

Dude.

Do you really hate your own dad so much that you don't want your grieving son to have even just a book of poems that the only member of the family who he was close to left for him? Are you still, even after that disastrous day where you cleaned out the fucking house with him there and fought with him, refusing to let him have any ties left?

To be fair, you can say that this is because of his own history with Abe and that it's because Jacob is in a worrying state. But that doesn't really hold up considering that they let Abe babysit Jacob often and fill his head up with stories they thought he embellished due to his own trauma and because they thought that Jacob was well enough to handle trashing and donating all of his dead grandpa’s stuff.

Sure, they don't take the book from him but the fact Franklin can't even hide how pissed he is is shitty.

That's not even considering this little tidbit here:

“My mother leaned toward me and in a tense whisper asked if I needed a drink of water, which was mom-speak for keep it together, people are staring.”

….

Do I even need to say anything?

The fact that Jacob thinks this probably means that his parents—or even just Maryann—have said this to him before. Frequently so, even. To the point where he's trying to escape the room, feeling like he might cry, and instead of thinking that his parents (or anyone in this family) might be able to potentially comfort him in this hard moment, this is what he's thinking.

It's infuriating.

But not as infuriating as my last point for now!

3. Franklin sent his then fifteen year old son to deal with what he thought was his dementia ridden, war world 2 veteran father having a PTSD attack/episode.

Franklin gets called when he's volunteering at a bird rescue in what is either early afternoon or night by his worried fifteen year old said who tells him that Abe called him ‘flipping out’.

He asks if he's taken his pills today and Jacob tells him Abe wouldn't tell him.

At this point, any reasonable adult would go and help their poor ailing father who may be having an episode or PTSD attack about the war, what happened to his family. The monsters.

At this point, any reasonable adult would send their son home out of danger and call up a friend or sibling or in-law to go deal with the situation.

What does Franklin do?

He sends his fifteen year old, who is at his job, to go check on Abe. Who again, Franklin thinks is having an episode.

Now, even if there was a chance that Abe would still recognize Jacob and wouldn't be a danger to him, who would risk sending their son to check on an ailing relative by himself when there's every chance that when Jacob gets there he'll be having flashbacks to the horrors he witnessed. I mean, it's understandable if you or another adult is there and need help calming the man for you to maybe have your teenage son there. Especially if he may be caring for him one day out of choice.

But sending your fifteen year old there by himself to handle the situation when he probably won't know what to do and when he probably hasn't seen one before?

And doing that when you know that your dad was in a war and still has a sea of weapons hidden away behind lock and key (a key which you have) because you can't be half assed to tell the shelter your volunteering at that there's a family emergency?

Franklin literally sent Jacob into a traumatizing situation that could turn dangerous (for Abe or Jacob, if Abe didn't recognize his grandson) under the assumption that all of his paranoid dad's weapons are stored away.

And what did Abe die with in his hand?

A box cutter.

Which just proves that Abe had things lying around that he could use as a weapon if needed. Things he could improvise with.

Just think for a moment about what could have wrong if Abe wasn't actually in danger from a wight but something he was actually imagining—a memory from his past. Imagine what could have happened to Jacob if Abe had mistaken him for a burglar or a wight or what Franklin thought he was imagining.

Jacob can't fight.

It's dark.

Things could easily go wrong.

And what would happen if they did?

Jacob would be hurt and traumatized or dead and Abe would likely be in a horrible place if he wasn't, all because Franklin didn't care enough about his dad to go check on him himself. Hell you can he didn't even care about Jacob enough here, because he didn't care about what Jacob could possibly see if he sent him to deal with his grandfather.

Like, not only is he being incredibly shitty to his son but to his own ailing father who was at the very least convinced he was in danger and who was actually in danger (for all Franklin knew his dad could have actually heard someone breaking in but he didn't even take the time to think about it).

That's all I have time to write for today but there's several other things that they do that are pretty crappy where their son is involved that I will happily discuss.

Hope this doesn't disappoint, @kallmeweirdhprroe .

#miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #the portman family #jacob portman #maryann portman #abe portman #rant/list #this isn't even considering the disgusting way Jacob's parents talk/think about Abe and Jacob when they think they're unwell #Or their horrible views they passed on to Jacob #just. they are the worst

173 notes · View notes

aumarias · 1 month ago

Text

haikyu!! headcanons - seijoh main four

slight suggestive themes in matsukawa's

iwaizumi hajime

100% without a doubt, works out to relieve stress. it's an escape from his problems (oikawa) and helps him take out his anger in a healthy way.

his favorite color is definitely red. i don't know why he just seems like a red guy.

literally gets SO pouty when he's surprised with something. it could be a gift or a party and he'll get so pouty. he's so emotional i love him

he loves LOVES when you grab his bicep. it makes him feel so strong and manly and proud it's so cute his face lights up.

contrary to popular opinion, he LOVES physical touch, but only with specific people. he just loves feeling loved.

whatever you cook for him, he'll DEVOUR it. he'll literally eat it up he loves food especially if you're the one who made it.

oikawa tooru

he has major separation anxiety. when he's in argentina you know damn well he's spamming the group chat with messages and calls.

his friends mean everything to him. he'd abandon volleyball for them anyday. he'd never admit it though...

a horrible, terrible liar. cannot lie to save his life, he'll start laughing or smiling. his voice cracks if he tries to drag it on too long.

when he falls in love, he's in LOVE. the gc is spammed with messages about how much he loves his gf and pictures of her followed by long ass paragraphs.

if he ever catches you in his jersey, oh honey... you're never gonna hear the end of it. he'll do a whole photoshoot of you in it, it doesn't matter if you just woke up. he thinks you look stunning and now it's his lockscreen wallpaper.

the SASSIEST man alive. he'll give you so much attitude if he's pissed off. you gotta sit his ass down and tell him to cut it out cause it gets BAD.

matsukawa issei

i don't see him as a smoker honestly. however...he is a big drinker. beer, whiskey, rum and coke, you name it, he'll have it.

super handsy. can't keep him hands off you, he needs to be touching you at all times. whether it be a hand on your hip, waist, thigh, head, or an arm around your shoulder, he's always touching you.

working in a funeral home, he sees a lot of grieving families yk.. he has nightmares that one day he'll be the one grieving you. please hold him tight at night!!

king of midnight snack runs! it's 4am and you're hungry? no problem! let's do a cvs run. oh you want taco bell? it closes soon better hurry!

has the LONGEST eyelashes you've ever seen. it's not even funny how are they so long. he looks great with mascara, he'll even beg you to put it on him so he can show off to oikawa. (he does, in fact, get jealous)

jams out with hanamaki to 2000's white girl songs. i'm talking christina aguilera, britney spears, natasha bedingfield, etc. it's their favorite way to mess with hajime. (he secretly loves it though)

hanamaki takahiro

matsukawa might not be a smoker, but hanamaki totally is. he doesn't smoke often, but when he does he comes back higher than a kite. he only smokes to relieve stress.

our dear boy is unemployed, but he still tries to spoil you as much as he can. you want that swimsuit? you'd look so hot babe of course he's buying it for you.

not a very touchy person, but he tries to make it up to you by spending time with you. he'll stand by you in the kitchen while you're whipping up some coffee for yourself. he sees you on the couch? now you guys are watching a movie together. he just loves being with you.

late night drives with takahiro are to die for. you've never had this much fun in your life. the city lights and the music blasting from the radio lifts you to a high you've never felt before.

uses hot cocoa flavored chapstick. he stocks up during the winter since it's a seasonal flavor (which he thinks is super annoying) but you complimented him on it once and now it's the only one he uses.

on twitter nearly 24/7. he posts his every thought and somehow they go viral. he prides himself on that and comes to you every time his tweet blows up. "look babe! my tweet hit 100k retweets."

#haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu iwaizumi #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #hq oikawa #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei #haikyuu matsukawa #hq matsukawa #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu hanamaki #hq hanamaki

251 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I hope your having a nice day, can I request Yandere 1st Years + Grim (Platonic) with a Komi Reader? (From Komi can’t Communicate)

Reader’s known for being incredibly beautiful, intelligent, athletic and elegant in everything she does, however she has crippling Social Anxiety and ends up scaring everyone away with her ‘mean/scary’ look so everyone tends to avoid her (When it’s actually herself that’s nervous since she doesn’t know what to say)

Except for Ace, Deuce and Grim after they spent time with Reader in the mine, they discovered her anxiety she wrote it out so now they’re mostly the ones who do the talking for her and try to help her reach her goal of making 100 Friends in NRC, even though they both think that’s a ‘weird/bad goal’ because this IS NRC

Reader loves cats, so she spoils Grim and Lucius (The latter likes laying in her lap and even follows her around) with pets, treats and affection and helping her friends with studying since she gets perfect marks

How would they react to hearing Reader’s voice for the first time? Not to mention have Reader tell write out that she made a friend all by herself who visits her dorm at night and does nightly walks (You know who it is)

Komi-San Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’re quiet and intimidating but not because others find you scary. The exact opposite, they’re obsessed. You’re athletic, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re kind, and the list goes on. Without so much as opening your mouth, the school is at its hands and knees all for you. Little do they know about your silent struggle, not like your dearest first-year friends. More than anyone they know how hard you work and if their hearts could overfill with love for you it already has. So imagine your stalkers' friends; reaction to you’re never heard before voice:

Ace Trappola

“Aw man, (Y/n) I can’t begin to explain how much of a pain he is! With his moodiness, we’re not going to win the game.”

“...”

“Don’t say that, I am great but not that great.”

“...Y-you c-can d-do it!”

He plays 10x better

All while running on his excitement and embarrassment

“Whoa, Ace! W-were you holding out on us!”

Everyone is floored that he’s suddenly just doing so well

He’s keeping your quiet cheers to himself

Replaying it in his head

He will teasingly ask you for a recording even when you cutely shake your head

“Oi oi don’t get all shy now, you were doing so well!”

He does circle back having already written down the names of those who turned their heads

If they’re so inclined to hear your voice in a roaring crowd

Then they should be alright with their ears no longer working

He’s being merciful when he does just this

And if you mention any mysterious friends, he’d no doubt try to follow up on that same treatment

Deuce Spade

“M-maybe being an honor student was too high of a goal.”

You shake your head

“Ahh I appreciate it, (Y/n) but if I’m going to flunk again I’ll be in trouble. Both with Riddle and my mom, I just can’t measure up. ”

“You…are a good student.”

He blushes

“G-g-g-g-good j-job (Y/n)!”

He knows how much this is taking for you to try

But he just can’t keep it together

He’s among the first to hear your precious voice

He has to be the only one

He doesn’t know what this feeling is but he doesn’t want to share

It especially rubs him the wrong way when you mention a mysterious friend

He decides to wait it out

See who this new friend he’s going to gut he has to meet

Epel Felmier

“Grrrr I can’t stand it! Why can’t I be taken seriously? I just hate my face!”

“...”

“Don’t hafta lie ta me, (Y/n)! I know I’m not handsome.”

“...I….th-th-”

“Huh?”

“I think you’re handsome.”

“Aw shucks, (Y/n)!”

He definitely wasn’t was expecting that

You’re just the sweetest as he predicted

He already keeps the notebook you’ve lost+ gone through with your written words

And the apple cores he lovingly retrieves from Ramshackle’s trash no doubt cultivating whatever ends up growing from them

He avoids the impulse to tear his book open at the mention of a new friend

Well I hope they like a poison-apple

Jack Howl

“I have a magift practice later on…are you still going to come?”

You nod your head

“T-thank you, I’d appreciate your support from the stands.”

When he says that he doesn’t expect you to actually whisper anything out

“G-go Jack!”

His keen ears pick it up and suddenly he’s breezing through obstacles like never before

And of course, he did his mate practically cheered him on

It makes it much earlier to replay that encouragement when he’s fighting for your honor his ownership of you

No doubt Savvannclaw is filled with your admirers

But some are a little too bold

So leave it to your mate to take action first

And while he’s at it he might as well guard your home more intensely

Sebek Zigvolt

“WHAT A MARVEL HUMAN! YOU’VE TAMED ALL THE FERAL FELINES ON CAMPUS!”

“...”

“WELL FOR A HUMAN IT IS DECENT WORK! PERHAPS YOU DO HAVE–”

“C-can you please be quiet?”

“...?....!..Y-you think y-you, a mere human, can tell me what to do?!”

Yes you can, having the loud half-fae go down two whole octaves was a feat

And he keeps replaying the moment in his head specifically the way your lips moved

Burning hot all over he’s not really listening to anyone for the next week month

But once he’s broken out of it he’s determined to repeat the miracle

And it seems it works best if your alone?

Then he’ll be sure to chase off the gaggle of scum+ admirers who you claim to be friends with

And he thinks nothing of a midnight friend…that is if you’re alone with them than that’s completely unacceptable

Grim

“Henchhuman! Everyone is soooo mean! Why doesn’t anyone like me? I know I’m so cool and maybe that’s why–”

“I like you.”

“Well of course you w–W-wait did you speak? T-t to me! Whoopee, I’m going to tell everyone the great Grim is who you spoke to first!”

He runs off to do just that

Bragging to anyone who would listen

He has to dodge a lot of assassination hits that day

But it gives him the content whenever that icky feeling comes up sometimes

And as for your ‘Hornton’ friend he’s seen him and next time he comes around he’ll boast all about his greatness and how you spoke to him

2K notes · View notes

lovedrruunk · 2 months ago

Text

Dating Jinx Headcanons (´ཀ`」 ∠)

Vi version!

I’m so sorry but this girl is so greasy. Smells like gunpowder and hair grease 24/7. She’s like a sphinx cat where if she sits down on something she’ll leave an oil spot so be warned because you’ll have to throw out any white sheets or cushions. She’s completely in denial about this by the way, loves to say she smells like “glitter and wonder” like no bitch when you get in the bath the water turns rainbow

Loves doing your hair! She’s either really good at it or really bad at it, depends on the day. Loves using accessories that she makes herself + giving you really fun hairstyles. “What was the inspiration behind this look...?” “A swan.”

Is actually really embarrassing. Taking her out in public feels like a humiliation ritual. Half the time it’s shit she does on purpose just being herself the other half is her being completely unaware. 100% lacks social awareness and you always find yourself apologizing for her. “Isn’t it crazy that they wouldn’t let us in?” “YOU’RE BAREFOOT.”

Overly honest at the worst times. She’ll blurt out stuff like, “That guy smells like wet dog” while the guy is standing right next to you which makes you want to crawl in a hole. If you scold her about it she’ll just snap back with “would you rather me lie?”

Loves to draw on your skin with markers. She’ll doodle hearts, smiley faces, and even little stick figures of the two of you. It’s messy but endearing, and it’s her own quirky way of being intimate with you

Stays up late just to watch you sleep. As scary and creepy as this sounds sometimes after a day full of her usual mayhem, she’ll find peace just staring at you sleep. She’ll never admit to doing it but there’s something about seeing you calm that makes her feel grounded

Your RIDE OR DIE!!! Don’t let her hear anybody say anything even remotely negative about you because she will be on their necks immediately. If there’s anyone you just slightly dislike, she’ll HATE them with her entire soul like it’s crazy. Your opps are her blood sworn enemies it doesn’t even matter if you’re over what they’ve done to you because she very well is NOT like she’s the type to be madder than you and mad FOR you. Unironically loves gossiping and will remember every little detail you tell her

Unbelievably bad at picking up hints. You’ll be sending every signal under the sun when you want her to calm down in a public place and she’ll just smile and wave, thinking you’re being affectionate, meanwhile you're trying to get her to stop climbing a memorial statue.

Loves it when you hold her hand. even if she pretends it’s no big deal. Her fingers will always end up intertwined with yours, and she’ll usually murmur something about how soft yours are or about wanting to do your nails

Has a weirdly sweet way of saying goodbye. Before you leave for the day she’ll pull you into a bear hug and whisper something like “Don’t go dying without me” before planting a quick kiss on your cheek. It’s her own weird version of “Take care.”

All for now!! The jinx brainrot is very much real

#I LOVE HAA I JUST LOVW HAAAAAARRRR #har har har har #jinx #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane league of legends x reader #arcane league of legends #x reader #arcane

312 notes · View notes

rubra-wav · 9 months ago

Text

The Main Hazbin cast x taking care of sick reader

A/N : I'm going off of flu-like symptoms type sickness for this one

Cw: Sfw, gn reader, Niffty being strange asf - injection mentions

[ Part 2 ] >>

Charlie

- no. 1 caretaker of those who are sick istg (in theory at least)

- She pulls out every single thing; medicine, soup, heating bottles, electrolyte drinks, extra blankets, entertainment stuff, etc. Etc.

- She will straight up fixate upon you getting better so you can come back to group exercises without the others worrying about your contagiousness.

- The only issue with her is that she won't leave you alone like at all.

- Vaggie needs to come drag her out so she'll stop talking about all the 'work' you've missed while you've been away recovering and all the theory behind it while you're trying to rest.

- Charlie 100% gets sick as well.

- Probably will try to keep hugging you and stuff like that, disregarding your grossness because she doesn't want you to feel 'lonely'.

Vaggie

- Understandably a bit avoidant of you, but not straight up averse.

- She needs to stay in top shape to guard the hotel.

- She would wear a mask around you and come see you still in short intervals, though, bringing you some stuff you need occasionally.

- insists you stay in your room so the hotel doesn't have a sweep of whatever the hell you have. Even with you wearing a mask or something yourself, she's iffy.

- Apologises each time she has to pull Charlie out of your room so you can sleep in peace.

- Also apologises when Alastor and Niffty show up to be menaces.

- Wants you to get better probably just as much as Charlie does.

- But mostly so she'll stop having to personally come drag away her overly good-natured girlfriend and the other two.

- Probably ends up getting sick eventually because Charlie ends up getting sick.

Angel Dust

- Avoids you like the plague.

- If he has to give you stuff, he will just leave it outside, knock, then bolt.

- Would probably talk with you over phone calls a fair bit while you're bedridden.

- The absolute last thing Angel needs is to get sick in his mind. It's not sexy at all, and with the hours he works?

- Fucking hell no.

- And he doesn't want to find out if there's a kink about that.

- Sorry, not sorry, but he's staying away.

- Would probably dress in a sexy nurse outfit while he delivers stuff to your door as a joke.

- If you don't answer the door, he'll assume you are asleep and will send a selfie with whatever he's left at your door and send it to you with some kind of 'get well soon' esque message so you know it's there.

- Wants you to get better but isn't gonna actively take any kinds of risks.

Husk

- Would also not want to be around you.

- Another person with a 'I can't get sick with my job' mindset.

- Would probably just purely communicate over messages, wouldn't actually come up to your door.

- May make you special (nonalcoholic ofc) drinks to help you recover and get someone else to send them up to you - makes the excuse that he needs to be at his 'post' at all times so he can't himself.

- I hc him as secretly being really good at cooking and liking to, so makes you lots of soups and things like that.

- Annoyed because he then has to deal with other people complaining about why he isn't making food for them as well.

- He's confident you're going to get better so doesn't really care all that much.

Pentious

- He's genuinely worried.

- Both for himself, but also for you as well.

- He comes from a time where people got what you got and died very quickly with no treatment available, so he's scared shitless about it even if everyone's insisting it's not going to kill you.

- Doesn't go see you in person because he's freaked out about it, but sends his eggs to come talk to you, ask you how you are and deliver messages from him to you every day.

- Will lie and say he doesn't care at all, then probably go cry in private about it.

- When it's clear you're no longer sick, he's going to be so relieved.

- Will probably genuinely show physical affection without thinking about it.

- Glomps you via wrapping himself around you, and then acts like it never happened.

Alastor

- He's such an awful cunt the whole time.

- Always shows up to go see you but its only to laugh at you like you're the funniest thing ever.

- Will bring you stuff, but it's very obviously not goof faith.

- He cannot get sick off of normal things, so he's all up in your business the whole time he decides it's 'go bother (name)!' Time.

- If you're delirious with temperature he'll probably openly talk to you about certain secret things because if you remember and bring them up he can just gaslight you about it.

- "Oh (name), you must be misremembering because you were so unwell!"

- He is the absolute worst about you being sick.

- Vaggie is your saviour in this situation, shooing him out of your room when she realises that he's once again back.

Niffty

- Okay, Alastor is objectively the worst, but Niffty is also fucking terrible.

- She's seemingly good faith with her bs at least, though.

- Acts like the insanest, most unhinged nurse taking care of a child with you.

- Will be there trying to cram food and drink down your throat aggressively, spoon feeding you things while gripping your mouth open way too hard.

- Dresses up like a nurse as well, courtesy of Alastor of course.

- Will show up with God knows what in syringes and try to inject them into you.

- Probably will try get a blood sample from you as well for some terrifying reason.

- You probably end up tripping balls at some point because she's injected you with some unidentifiable substance.

- Also needs to be escorted out by Vaggie so you aren't straight up killed by her attempts to... help(?) You get better. The motivation is unclear.

I may also make one about reader taking care of them when they're sick too atsp 🤔

528 notes · View notes

l0stglitch · 2 months ago

Text

Platonic yandere lost boys headcannons

Notes- This was supposed to be general headcannons but then I started leaning into the darker side of the dynamics more, so now it’s more focused on the relationships between reader and the boys.

Warnings- Emotional manipulation, Psychosis, Non consensual drug use, Yandere behaviour, Murder

Dwayne

• You mean the absolute world to Dwayne.

• Seriously- every waking thought is spent on you. You’re like a drug that he can’t function without.

• Sometimes the others joke that he has separation anxiety (he 100% does).

• He loves listening to you speak. Often you’ll both lie down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You’ll tell him about your day through the rose-tinted lenses of childhood, and he’ll listen. He listens with an interest that you have never been regarded with before. It makes you feel special.

• The two of you go down to the skatepark together every now and again and your dad teaches you how to skate.

• You’d never tell the others, but those are your favourite nights. When it’s just you and Dwayne out at night practicing tricks under the solitary streetlight.

• It’s usually empty, but when there is anyone else there Dwayne warns you of how dangerous they could be.

• He doesn’t mean to scare you, but sometimes the only way you’ll follow the rules is by telling you every other man out there is out to get you.

• His warnings made you paranoid and untrusting of everyone for a while.

• It eventually got so bad that you had a psychotic episode- locking yourself in your room for days because you believed that your fathers wanted to harm you.

• Eventually they broke down your door to find you starving and severely dehydrated, having spent days completely devoid of food and water.

• You were too weak to even fight back when they scooped you up and carried you out your room.

• Dwayne was in hysterics.

• He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the week, and made sure to hand feed you all your meals.

• You protested, but he was relentless.

• He almost made you feel like it was your fault. Acting so hurt that you would take such little care for yourself. Do you really hate them that much? Why don’t you trust them after everything they’ve done for you?

• Days later, you found yourself crying in his arms, begging for forgiveness. Through desperate sobs you sputtered out apology after apology, clinging to his leather jacket.

• Seeing you so needy for him- so desperate for his love almost made it all worth it.

• He just ran his fingers through your hair like you were a scared animal, trying to get you to calm down.

• That’s how disputes between you and your father almost always end. With you begging for his forgiveness for something you know deep down wasn’t your fault.

• After your breakdowns, you often sit alone in your room wondering how you let the same thing happen every time. You’ve always had a soft spot for Dwayne, but sometimes you wonder if his powers have more uses than you thought.

• All those times you’ve awoken from a horrifyingly realistic nightmare, or felt a piercing sense of dread at the thought of sneaking out, a tiny fear itches in the back of your brain.

• Are your thoughts actually yours?

Marko

• Marko 100% plays with you the most.

• He’s just naturally more energetic than the others (which often leads him to getting into fights).

• But when he’s not scrapping with surf nazis, he spends the rest of his time practically worshipping you.

• Sometimes when it’s just the two of you, you’ll stop by a playground to play for a bit.

• He’d never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he gets jealous seeing you play with the kids there.

• I feel like Marko is a very creative person (I mean cmon look at his jacket). One of my personal hcs is that he painted the leopard on Dwayne’s jacket.

• He’d definitely buy (or steal) a jacket for you just so he can customise it. He also sees it as a way of showing that you belong to them.

• You’d sit next to him on the couch, sketching out every little detail you want whilst he listens, hanging onto your every word.

• Despite his need to show everyone you are theirs, he also genuinely loves making things for you.

• He made a bracelet for you to match the one Dwayne stole when you first met.

• Out of everyone he’s the most possessive.

• Sometimes, depending on his mood, he’ll ban you from speaking to anyone other than them (even Max). Other times he’ll outright stop you from going to the boardwalk with them. He’d stay with you in the cave whilst the other three go out to hunt.

• It worked when you were younger and more obedient, however during your teen years you grew to be a lot more rebellious.

• Marko absolutely HATES the thought of you growing up. He doesn’t know what kind of a person you’ll be in the future, and that scares him.

• That and the fact that he knows you’ll inevitably want to start dating.

• He’s kind of in denial about the whole growing up thing.

• Unfortunately when you do become a teenager he literally can’t cope. He refuses to believe you are able to take care of yourself and will baby you.

• On multiple occasions you have lashed out at him for the way he treats you, sick of how he refuses to accept the fact that you have a functional brain and can think for yourself.

• Unfortunately Marko has a particularly short temper. He has, on multiple occasions, accidentally shoved you into a cabinet in the heat of an argument, and left you with dark, angry bruises.

• And then comes the guilt tripping. Sometimes you’d wonder if he secretly likes it when you get hurt because of how happy he always looks when he gets to take care of you.

• You’re father’s mood can switch up in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking on eggshells around him, afraid that the slightest mistake will set him off.

• Usually Dwayne or Paul are around to tell him to chill out, but when you’re alone you just have to play along with his delusions of you still being his little girl to avoid conflict.

• It’s hard though, especially when he suddenly brings up a new rule to ‘keep you safe’. It’s practically impossible to keep Marko happy, and with every new rule, you know it’s only a matter of time until you break it (intentionally or not).

• He would never admit it, even to himself, but part of him secretly enjoys it when you break the rules. He likes hearing your heart pounding loudly from your chest, betraying the unbothered scowl on your face.

• It reminds him that no matter how grown up you look on the outside, you’ll always just be that timid little girl they found by the carousel. Helpless and in need of her fathers.

Paul

• He doesn’t mean to be, but Paul is definitely the dad that lets you get away with anything.

• Poor guy doesn’t really know how to act around kids, so he ends up either being a bit awkward around you or just treating you like a mini adult.

• As a result, you don’t really fear him as much as you do the others, but you also don’t see him as reliable as they are.

• You know Dwayne will always be there for you. Paul though? Half the time he’s too high to even tell you what day of the week it is.

• He feels guilty about it. Really guilty. He loves you just as much as the others do, but he just doesn’t know how to show it, so he lets you get away with things.

• Oh- you want a chocolate bar for breakfast? Sure, so long as you don’t tell Dwayne.

• You wanna try his cigarette? Ok, but make sure David doesn’t find out.

• At first it’s great. You love getting to hang out with Paul because of the little secrets you share. He gets high and you get to do what you want.

• It isn’t until you start to grow up, and he begins to enjoy your company more that his behaviour starts changing.

• Out of everyone, Paul (ironically) knows the most of your secrets.

• He’s just so much easier to talk to than the others- and whilst he doesn’t always give you particularly good advice on how to deal with certain situations, you can appreciate him for listening.

• Your trust in him backfires though, as he realises he can use your secrets against you.

• He literally blackmails you into spending more time with him. You don’t wanna hang out? That’s fine- but be prepared to have a stern telling off from David after Paul found a bag of weed under your bed.

• You picked up most of your bad habits from your father. Getting black out drunk and stealing cigarettes with your small group of friends, for example.

• Compared to the others, he isn’t very controlling in terms of rules. He knows that telling you what to do directly will only make you rebel, so instead he takes a slightly different approach.

• He drugs you.

• It took years for you to finally realise why you would sometimes sleep for such long amounts of time, despite not feeling tired beforehand.

• Eventually you connected the dots, and came to the sickening realisation that he would put crushed sleeping pills in your food every time you mentioned wanting to go out with your friends.

• After confronting your fathers about it, you refused to eat any food they had prepared for you. This lasted a while, until you ran out of money and were no longer able to afford cheap takeaways.

• It becomes a lot harder for Paul to drug you after that, however every now and again he manages to slip you a sedative.

• You absolutely hate it.

• You hate feeling completely helpless. Mind dull and emotions muffled by the effects of the drug. Even your body feels heavy, and you find that you only have enough energy to lay in Paul’s embrace, waiting to fall asleep.

David

• Ok let’s be real David is definitely the most distant father out everyone.

• After all, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’s scared of completely fucking up as a dad).

• He prefers spending time with you inside the cave rather than going out to the boardwalk.

• He uses excuses similar to Dwayne- telling you how dangerous it is, but unlike Dwayne he doesn’t actually believe what he’s telling you.

• David knows that it’s very unlikely that anything will happen to you. You’re hardly ever by yourself, so the chances of someone actually managing to hurt you are slim- especially with four overprotective vampire fathers lurking nearby.

• The real reason is that it makes him feel less in control. He can’t decide who you’re friends with, or who talks to you when you do occasionally manage to sneak away from them.

• Your biological family is gone. But who’s to say there isn’t someone out there looking for you still? David can’t help the everlasting paranoia from seeping into his every thought.

• So for peace of mind, he sets rules and curfews. Anything that will ease his worries.

• Practically every minute of your life is dictated by David. He thrives off of controlling you.

• Each and every rule and punishment goes through him first. He’s essentially the backbone of the pack.

• You resent him for it. You hate the way he encourages the others, and how he speaks down at you so condescendingly.

• Your relationship wasn’t always so strained though.

• As a kid you completely idolised David. His hair, his bike, his music. You were like his shadow. Constantly trailing behind him, grasping onto his signature trench coat.

• He loved every minute of it. Your father would spoil you. He’d steal little gifts at every opportunity, and buy you posters and t shirts of all the bands he had gotten you into.

• Unfortunately, as you got older you made friends outside the pack. You developed new interests, and David felt threatened.

• After all, you’re supposed to their little girl. You were supposed to grow up and stay with your fathers- your pack. Not branch out and meet new people.

• So in response, David killed one of your friends.

• One of the boys in your group who he thought you were becoming dangerously close to.

• Of course, you didn’t know David was the reason he had gone missing, so when you broke down in tears, feeling terrified for your friend, David was there to hold you.

• The way he gently rubbed your back and soothingly whispered into your ear almost made you forget about the disappearance of one of your closest friends.

• That brief moment of bliss bringing you back to your childhood as you sought comfort in your father’s tender embrace.

• David could only pray that you would remain ignorant to the truth about your dearly departed friend.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife (lmk if anyone else wants to be added)

#the lost boys 1987 #poly!lost boys x reader #the lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #platonic #yandere #the lost boys x child!reader #yandere lost boys #platonic yandere

244 notes · View notes

lightfeltmemories · 1 year ago

Text

episode one: phantom troupe and romance; headcanons from least toxic, to most toxic

characters include: chrollo, machi, pakunoda, shizuku, uvogin, shalnark, feitan, phinks, bonolenov, kortopi, hisoka, illumi, nobunaga, franklin. (not in order)

tw's: nsfw but nothing explicit, mentions of non-con, spoilers for the deaths of pakunoda, shalnark, kortopi and uvogin, toxic relationships, lovebombing, mentions of torture (not on reader), mentions of cheating, mentions of reader's death,

notes: a completely self indulgent post, you can probably tell who im biased towards by how long certain sections are.

because this contains mentions of nsfw, do not interact if you are under 18, you will be blocked if you do !! also, do not leave negative comments please, they will be deleted :)

pakunoda

out of everyone, guaranteed, she'll be the best partner out of everyone else, you might even end up shocked that she's apart of the troupe if it ever comes to you finding out.

she's a darling, spoils and cares for you like anyone else, a great listener and partakes in your interests in hobbies, its (almost) like a fairytale by how the relationship is, the troupe knows you but you don't know them! and she wants to keep it that way, of course still she's a murderer, so it would break her if you were to have found out about everything, she vowed to never let you know or even have you close to knowing about what she does, but you just can't help but wonder what she's doing when she's away for long periods of time.

until it comes to her death.

now, you eventually find out that she died from a close friend of hers, but he knows paku doesn't want you to know about the troupe, so, he's a bit vague, and a bit creepy.

nobunaga

personally out of everyone else, i feel like nobunaga would be other most normal when it comes to relationships, but then again, he's an enigma, he doesn't strike me as the type to be the best boyfriend literally ever or very very toxic, i feel like out of everyone else, if you're looking for someone to be in a semi normal relationship with, nobunaga is your best shot, but of course, he's a part of the phantom troupe, and any member apart of it isn't exactly the best partner by default.

he's still a murder and thief, like all members i believe that he would definitely steal things that remind him of you, he'd most definitely kill for you.

unlike someone like feitan or machi, he doesn't exactly have a problem with being vulnerable when you get to know him, he'll tell you about himself, and of course, because he's a criminal he can't exactly tell you what he does for a living, but can't bring himself to lie about it either, he's just hoping that one day, if you know, you won't leave or judge him for it, his childhood isn't exactly all sunshines and lolipops, y'know?

he'll love you from the ends of the earth, but he definitely won't let you walk all over him, quick to put your in your place and won't allow you to manipulate him, he won't lie to you (about trivial things, at least) so why should you? (who knows, maybe you're apart of a criminal organization and is pretty much a wanted criminal yourself :P)

bonolenov

similar to nobunaga i think if you want something that's somewhat normal, bonolenov is also a nice choice! (100% not putting him up so high because we don't really know that much about him it's totally because he would be a decent partner! honest!)

for one, you would definitely be introduced to usual romantic gestures and advances that come from his tribe, he'll tell you all about how things work with him, he'll do dances he learned when they were still here for you to show how much he adores you, and dresses you in garments that resemble such from his tribe, it's pretty cute, honestly!

now, what concerns him a bit is.. how you'll react without his bandages, he's not exactly sexy like chrollo but (to me, TO MEEEEEE) he's not the ugliest thing in the world! he just hopes that eventually if you see him in his true form, you don't scream and run away at the sight of him, its okay if you do! ..... kind of.

and if you don't, oh you'll mean so much to him!

kortopi

now, here's another one we don't know much about! but i'll try my best either way (i just want to contribute to the lack of attention him and bono get in these spaces.) he's another somewhat normal one, he also doesn't strike me as the type to be the absolute worst, but still is apart of a troupe of murderers and thieves.

similar to everyone else, he'll steal and kill for you (idk if this guy even has a body count but lets pretend he does.) and is a lot more open to being vulnerable than some other members.

now, nine times out of ten you'll be taller than him because this guy is even shorter than feitan, so, he'll definitely be wearing your t-shirts and hoodies, and he ain't complaining about it!

and eventually, he dies, now, honestly, something told you that kortopi seemed... like the odd one out when it came to the troupe, he doesn't seem like the type to be apart of... that! you better hope that hisoka doesn't care about you, or things are gonna turn ugly faster than you can blink.

uvogin

he's big (as hell), but he's sweeter (you know why they're in bold italics) than the others twice his size.

physically the strongest, you're rather lucky to have him has your partner, if someone won't stop messing with you, they're dead within a millisecond, or at least scared off since you know.. he isn't exactly built like the average guy and having someone that's eight foot fucking two walking up on you not really excited to see you is quite terrifying, depending on his mood they'll sometimes get away.... sometimes.

enough of that, how is it like when it's just the two of you? sitting on the couch or laying in bed watching movies together, his arm around you, it's basically a pillow! a hard ass pillow at that.

not the most vulnerable, he's not some weird incel who see's women as sex toys or anything, he's decently capable of being in a normal relationship, you won't see each other often sadly, but when you do, he'll pay 95% of his attention towards you, he'll even let you know straight up that he won't know when he'll get back, but he will! ... until he doesn't..

ah yes, his death at the hands of kurapika, how will you react? hell, how would kurapika react to your existence? something tells me that kurapika might kill you too, send you right off with him, or, in a rather strange twist of events, he might try to fuck you and take you to the other side, not in the way of barging into your house and straight up non con, nah, more like a get to know you then get in your pants type of way, uvo won't be there to protect you now would he? of course the latter is highly unlikely, but to be honest it's kind of fun to think about.

and now that you think of it... you don't even know what uvo was doing or where he was going, you choose how you want to react to how you found out about his troupe business.

shizuku

another woman! she's similar to another person right below her! she looks cute, but she's anything but!...... sort of.

she's not the best or worst partner, she's pretty normal, a bit distant but it's not something you can't manage, maybe she just needs some space and you're overwhelming her, but something that really gets to you is her forgetfulness.

at first, she'll forget things such as your birthday or your anniversary, but going further into the relationship, she becomes less and less forgetful (she might even remember things that you don't even remember.)

what exactly do you guys do together? well, she does try to partake in your interests, and does try to get things you like!

franklin

he's similar to uvo, he's big, he's actually nicer than he appears.

what makes him so low is.. well to be honest i don't know, i don't feel like he could be high up but not so low, so, this is the perfect spot for him.

for one he does have a bit of an anger problem, not as bad as phinks, but he doesn't mind a slight argument, good thing he wont assault you, and is quick to make up for the argument.

i don't know how to write him, so, please forgive me for how small this passage is. :(

shalnark

we're starting to get into uh... strange territory, he looks kind, and seems normal, but he's anything but that, he's not the most toxic but he also isn't the most caring and understanding either, similar to nobunaga he's kind of an enigma.

he's a love bomber and very good at manipulating, definitely takes advantage of his rather cute looks, he'll figure out what you're insecure about and compliment those things specifically, i do think he is capable of loving someone genuinely, but he sometimes does things without realizing that they aren't really normal, maybe he's getting his troupe personality mixed up with the one he has with you.

he does come off as sweet at first, brings you flowers and takes you on some rather expensive dates (an uncanny feeling creeps up on you about how the waiters act, but you don't pay much attention to it.) and sometimes he's more distant and a little bit aloof, you take this as him needing his space.

he's not abusive, but he isn't the absolute best partner, there's definitely better out there.

his death doesn't hit you as hard as the others but it was still devastating, you best hope hisoka doesn't come for you, and if he does, you hope he swiftly kills you, because you really don't want this murder clown to take an interest to you.

phinks

phinks is another one 'that's kind of odd to me, i don't want to judge a book by its cover and say "yeah he's a piece of shit!!" but again, he's a lot better in comparison to anyone below.

he's similar to shalnark in quite a few ways, one, he does things that kind of makes you think he's a bit of an odd ball, he's intimidating to look at and is the second strongest physically in the troupe, so you're lucky to have someone like him if you're looking for protection.

i don't see him as the type to take you out to fancy restaurants and bring you flowers, stuff like that is a bit too sappy for him, he shows other ways like giving you thinks you like or taking you to like carnivals or other fun events.

his main problem is his anger issues, he won't physically harm you especially if you don't use nen, but he's not above arguing with or yelling at you, he doesn't do it often, but he might call you an idiot or a bitch if you take him to that point.

the relationship is somewhat normal besides that.

chrollo

chrollo is weird, some say he's loving, caring, blah blah blah while some might say he's the exact opposite.

for one he is charming, he's a relatively good looking man, he's intelligent, and is looking for someone who's also intelligent.

i feel like chrollo definitely has a type, he likes people who are elegant, he wants someone that'll make him look good while he's in public, he doesn't care much for how people view the relationship outside of that, he also looks for someone with a personality he doesn't want someone who looks good yes, but is boring to be around, someone he can have a deep conversation with and talk about his interests with.

for one, you will not know about the troupe's existence, until he is 100% ready to tell you, which will definitely take a while, but he's confident that the troupe and himself will protect you from anyone who tries to avenge.

now, what makes him so low on this list? well, he's quite manipulative, a gaslighter, too, what do you mean you saw me with another woman? it's all for business, i'm just trying to steal her nen ability.

he does want to be a good partner, but this relationship is kind of a "too good to be true" type, something is happening behind closed doors and the thought is too persistent to ignore.

illumi

this guy is... strange, for one, his beady ass eyes make him look like a bug (affectionately), and section.. his very warped perception of what love even is.

i agree with the fandom that he has a breeding kink no doubt, his intention on dating is marriage, and you will bear his children, no ifs, ands or buts.

you'll meet his family but you'll never meet the troupe, he doesn't want you getting involved in fighting (he might have someone teach you some basic self protection) because he doesn't want you to die, that'll fuck with him... kind of, you're basically trapped in the mansion.

his overprotection is toxic on its own, you don't have that much freedom, you can't go shopping unless he's with you (or if he can't be there, one of his servants will accompany you), you're never truly alone unless he's away, and when he's here, things are no better, he's distant and cold, there's not much to talk about with him, sure, he loves you, but doesn't know how to express it much.

machi

one out of three toxic ass individuals, one of them consists of machi.

lets start off with the fact that she's cold hearted, as hell, if you cry in front of her she'll look at you like you're crazy, if she's really in that mood she'll tell you that you look stupid and you need to suck it up.

not good with physical touch or romance, who knows how the two of you managed to continue the relationship, she does leave flowers for you but won't tell you that they're from her, won't admit that she's the one who got them for you.

i feel like similar to a certain clown, she won't care much for you if you aren't either powerful or capable of protecting yourself in some way.

but all she's really doing is putting up barriers, she's actually caring in her own weird way, she'll still be there for you, patch up your wounds if you managed to get cut or stabbed and would probably mourn your death.

hisoka

were getting lower, and a certain sadist who loves torture is worse, but somehow, hisoka is slightly better than him in some way or another.

for one, hisoka probably won't be that interested in you if you aren't powerful, it would be worse if you were a regular civilian, he'll take that as an opportunity to take advantage of you sexually, physically, psychologically and mentally, and the relationship will be literal hell..

but, lets say you are pretty powerful, dare i say a troupe member yourself, he won't be as interested in fighting you as much as he would chrollo, but he would be interested in... other ways.

how you managed to get into a relationship with this freak is unclear, but you two one day just.. hooked up, and it all goes downhill from here.

he has no problem killing you if he gets tired of you, he already killed two and plans on killing the rest of the spiders, why not kill another? especially you? or, in an alternate scenario where he does manage to kill off all the spider, you're the only one who's left, this can go two ways, one, he can fuck you one last time then kill you, or, he takes you with him! if you managed to have a lasting impression on him, that is.

outside of sex, he just isn't a good partner, he's probably the only one on this list that's probably willing to cheat on you (don't you dare get back at him, both you and your lover will die) he's manipulative as hell, he doesn't necessarily care about how you feel and he'll provoke you just to get a reaction out of you.

feitan

and last but not least, feitan, oh boy, good luck to you for managing to have this man attracted to you. (im a feitan girlie, so this one might be a big longer than the rest)

for one, he'll hate your rotten guts for making him feel this way, for making him feel so weak, so emotional... he might even contemplate on killing you, but when that time comes he can't bring himself to do it.

i don't want to say yandere is his default since he doesn't really know how to properly love, because i do think he has some potential, but it does make sense for him, because there has to be something about you that makes you interested in him, maybe you're his polar opposite? maybe you're also a sadist?

he's not the most romantic partner, he doesn't want to come off as vulnerable, or sappy, so, what considers as a date to him? he's the type to probably take you to a cemetery at night as a form of a date.

he will not allow the troupe to know you or you to know them, for one he's going to be teased from hell and back for finally managing to pull someone and second while it appears that he doesn't care for you much, him protecting you from them is his way of showing you that he cares.

he can't find himself being vulnerable, he might teach you his language if you're up for it, and he might bring you some things he knows you like, but thats kind of it, also he won't force you to see him torture people.. unless you betray him in a way.

805 notes · View notes

flyingwargle · 3 months ago

Text

july fanfic recommendations!

i read an obscene amount of fanfic last month with some that i must share with others, hence this post. i still over >100 fics to read so maybe this will be a monthly series? we'll see.

some fics are rated e!

sakuatsu

rotten work & other things worth doing t. 3k. atsumu and sakusa clean atsumu's bathroom together. that's it, that's the fic. lots of hurt/comfort and love and affection <3

The Sakusa Complaint Jar t. 3.6k. hilarious take on the swear jar, especially as atsumu learns he's more down bad for sakusa than he thought.

Appease and Assuage t. 5.1k. sakusa has a bad day and atsumu is there for him. very soft and raw with sakusa feeling off-kilter, and atsumu knows exactly how to help him.

come, morning light g. 5.2k. sakusa gets sick and tries to push atsumu away but eventually lets him in. very soft and domestic.

Here Is Your Verse m. 15.52. 2/2. atsumu ends his fwb relationship with sakusa because he caught feelings. they end up reconciling in the end.

when you hear hoofbeats t. 42.4k. 14/14. university au slowburn where sakusa has eds and he gets into a relationship with atsumu. be aware of the chapter warnings because it gets heavy but has a happy ending!

Stockholm Syndrome Isn't Real e. 50.2k 8/8. side sunaosa(komo). au where atsumu is a pro athlete but osamu is secretly a hacker and atsumu is kidnapped in his place. love the action, tension, and everything about this.

sunaosa

slip of the pen t. 6k. suna channels all his pining into award-winning books and osamu has never read any of them. the pining is top-tier in this.

moonsick m. 7.8k. fwb to lovers in suna's pov. is it really a sunaosa fic without one of them being emotionally constipated?

in the mood for love m. 8.3k. friends to exes to friends to lovers pipeline. i love the prose and osamu's thoughtful narration.

Litany in Which Certain Words Are Said t. 10.9k. 5 times osamu says "i love you" and 1 time suna says it back. oohh the yearning in this is top-tier!

a type of hunger m. 9.1k. i love the exploration of suna's hunger in this as an athlete and feeling like he's falling behind. good thing osamu is there for him <3

An Inconvenient Espionage e. 26.6k. 5/5. side sakuatsu. spy au, assholes to lovers. good action, good spy work, good tension 👀

somewhere to lay the flowers t. 25.6k. i've read a healthy amount of bastigod's works and trans suna has me in a chokehold. i also love magical realism and the mythology in this was woven wonderfully. suna's daughter is also a delight!

iwaoi

stumble into the sun e. 3.6k words of iwaizumi discovering that oikawa has a praise kink. it's also very soft and lovely.

Press '1' to Get a Call From Your Drunk Best Friend t. 5.4k. a drunk iwaizumi spills about his love and appreciation for oikawa. it's hilarious and fluffy and one of my favorites <3

HIPS DON'T LIE e. 8.1k. iwaizumi overhears girls talk about how good oikawa is in bed and is given a live demonstration from the man, himself.

i wanna ruin our friendship t. 18/18. oikawa comes to terms that he's in love with his best friend. features heavy themes, read the chapter warnings before proceeding. there's a happy ending!

bokuaka

Tell Me, Eurydice (How Could I Not?) t. 6.3k. lovely prose from akaashi's perspective about bokuto becoming captain and the idea of akaashi being his vice captain.

hoot if you've heard this one before t. 5.2k. bokuto and akaashi lose contact and find each other in university at a cafe that akaashi owns. lovely reconciliation fic and relationship recovery.

papers (the special, laminated ones) t. 5.3k. bokuto's parents have a tradition of laminating all his special papers and he isn't allowed to get them until "he's ready." i loved how sweet and fluffy this was, especially with his relationship with akaashi <3

Spaces aren’t Voids 7.2k. bokuto had every intention to propose until he lost the ring. a very fun and fluffy fic of a marriage proposal that doesn't quite go through but things go well in the end.

To Have and to Rail e. 12.4k. this is more humor than smut about akaashi's scientific exploration to match bokuto's stamina in bed. it doesn't go as well as he hopes (of course. good luck, akaashi)

onigiri miya: brand ambassadors (applications closed) g. 4k. bokuto is kinda slightly jealous of how close akaashi is to osamu because he's obsessed with onigiri miya. hinata feels the same way with kageyama. so what do they do? become brand ambassadors for osamu. absolutely hilarious and fluffy!

Kiss Me (Like You Wanna Be Loved) e. 56.6k. 27/27. oh the pipeline of strangers to roommates to fwb to lovers, i love it so. equal parts hurt/comfort, fluff, with the perfect amount of nsfw.

kagehina

soft serve t. 9.6k. hinata and kageyama drive an ice cream truck to fundraise money for karasuno's volleyball club. that's it, that's the fic.

Meme of the Day g. 4k. kageyama accidentally turns hinata into a meme. very fluffy and cute!

miscellaneous

yachi hitoka stop being so relatable challenge t. 4.1k. i loved this exploration of yachi being known and getting closer with the karasuno boys. she's such a precious cinnamon roll <3

north is everywhere. t. 12.1k. an exploration of kiyoko's development through high school, from being a manager out of obligation to continuing out of choice. also ace rep!

summer rolling down a cheek gen. 13.2k. a beautiful character study of kenma after the spring tournament as he thinks about the future and what comes next. beautiful prose and introspection.

279 notes · View notes

catherinnn · 8 months ago

Text

Fears and Futures

summary: After hearing Steve's comments about a friend's unexpected pregnancy, you become fearful of your own uncertain future and start questioning the meaning and depth of your relationship with Eddie.

warnings: language, unexpected pregnancy (not reader), not actual smut talks about sex, talks about unprotected sex, a little angst but fluff overall, hurt/comfort.

words: 1.1k

a/n: a little something just cause I felt like writing and I wanted a little drama. not proofread cause I was tired :)

He opens his door for you and you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in, you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.

He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.

“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.

And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.

You’re currently at Steve’s house, hanging out with him Robin and Eddie.

“Hey, do you remember Rebeca Evans?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, she was a senior with Eddie and me” you answer.

“The first time I was a senior” Eddie jokes.

You and Eddie had been friends since high school —it’s safe to say you’re best friends actually—, it took Eddie a couple more tries to finish high school but he finally did it. ’86 baby! Now you’re studying and he started working as a mechanic.

A year ago you started some kind of… arrangement between you two, a friends with benefits kind of arrangement. It all started on a drunken night at a party and then you kept it going not only on drunken nights, but on your sober nights, or at any time for that matter.

“She’s pregnant” Steve announced, and then he complains when you say he’s the most gossipy of the group.

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, she went on a few dates with this guy but they didn’t really hit it off, but they kept hooking up a few times either way, and then it just happened”

“It didn’t just happened, Steve. Were they being safe?” Robin corrects him.

“She said they were, but the condom must have broken or something. Apparently they don’t provide 100% safety” he explained.

“God, she’s my age… and wasn’t she studying as well? She wasn’t working yet” you ask him.

“Yep, she was still studying. Imagine if it happened to you now, it would change your whole life” Steve comments.

“Yeah…” you start thinking how it would affect you, how much of an impact it would make on your life.

And suddenly you can’t stop thinking about it, fearing it. You’re not ready to have kids! But neither was Rebeca and then one day she woke up and she was.

The only person you’re having relationships with is Eddie, and similarly like Rebeca, you’re not in a relationship with him.

You don’t even really know if you want kids or not, but if you’d have them you’d imagine it at least be with someone you’re in love with.

Actually, let me paraphrase that.

At least it would be with someone you’re in a serious relationship with.

Because you do really like Eddie, but you know he doesn’t feel that way. So this arrangement was fine because of that, you know nothing more would ever happen so you’re not expecting it from him.

So for a few days you have been… you wouldn’t say ignoring him, but re-thinking some aspects of this arrangement… without answering his calls.

“Hey, Robs?” you pick up the phone.

“Fucking finally. Oh so you do pick up the phone to Robin?” You hear Eddie’s voice.

“Fuck- no, I was just waiting for her call. But I was gonna call you later” you lie- well, a few days can also mean ‘later.’

“Whatever, do you wanna come over?” he asks and you realize you are going to have to do this eventually.

“Yeah, sure”

When he opens his door for you, you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.

He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.

“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.

And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.

“Okay” he says either way.

“I’ve been- thinking a lot about this… Rebeca’s situation-“

“Oh, come on” he interrupts, “when Steve said it was similar to you it didn’t mean it was going to happen to you as well”

“But it could! Eddie, I’m also studying to become somebody, I’m also not working and with no intention on starting to soon, I’m also just twenty years old with no idea of what I want for my future, but I sure as hell don’t want a baby now. And it’s not like we’re being very careful, Eddie. For God’s sake, they were using a condom and it broke or just didn’t work, we’re not even doing that!” you explain.

“Okay, we can just be more careful, but we don’t have to stop all of this”

“That’s the other thing… she was also just hooking up with someone and now they’re bounded forever. She didn’t even like him that much and now she has a fucking kid with him!” you tell him and Eddie stays silent for a while, thinking of what you said.

“…Do you also feel that way?” he asks nervously.

“What?” you ask confused of what he means.

“Do you also… don’t even know if you like him?” he asks with a straight face this time, waiting for your answer.

“That’s not what I said”

“Okay, I’m asking you now” he kept insisting.

“Do you even feel that way?” you kept dodging his question. You weren’t going to admit to him that you liked him just for him to reject you.

He sighed, tired of this. “I fucking like you- I’m actually fucking crazy about you if I’m being honest. That’s why I’m trying to not break this whole thing up because it’s the only way I’m able to have you, even if it’s just sex and it shouldn’t mean anything”

“Are you- being serious?” you ask sceptical.

“Yes” he admits one more time.

It’s your time to sigh in frustration now, head back and everything. But because you can’t believe how stupid the two of you could be.

You run to him without saying a word and you see the confusion on his face, but you quickly grab it and pull him closer to finally give him that kiss. Only it’s with a passion and love that the first one wouldn’t have had, or maybe it would be hidden.

He kisses you back grabbing you by your waits and pulling you even closer.

Pulling apart slightly, you look into Eddie's eyes where you find warmth, relief, and an unmistakable spark of love.

"I guess we've been idiots, huh?" you say, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, we have" Eddie replies with a small laugh, his eyes still locked onto yours.

“I’ll start taking the pill from now on” you can finally decide since now it’s no longer meaningless.

He smiles, leaning in to give you another lingering kiss, “Yeah, that’d be great”, he whispers against your lips.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble

292 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 9 months ago

Text

When There Is Love, There is Life... pt 2

I had a few ask for a part 2, so here it is! I hope it's worth the read!

Part 1

WC: ~2.9k

Valentine’s Day had come and gone, and you meant what you told Melissa when she figured out that you were the secret admirer behind all of those gorgeous flowers that she received for the holiday. You are willing to wait for her- she is absolutely, 100% worth it to you. There is no doubt in your mind that Melissa Schemmenti is worth waiting for.

So you’ve been waiting for about two months now, and you entirely understand that these things take time. You’re in no rush.

Honestly, nothing has changed between the two of you since you confessed your feelings for her. The two of you still innocently flirt with each other. You’re there for her, and she’s there for you. She still brings in extra portions of her lunch for you, sometimes you spend your evenings lounging on her couch and drinking wine. She still stays with you during preps and any other opportunities the two of you have to spend together throughout the school day. When teachers are allowed to go home, the two of you walk out together.

It’s nice, it’s simple, it’s warm. It’s exactly what Melissa needs in order to continue to heal her heart from the breakup with Gary, and you are more than happy to be there for her in any way that you can be.

But lately, Melissa’s been thinking: it’s you. It’s always been you. Sure, Gary was fun and she could’ve stayed with him for the rest of her life, but… you’ve always been there. You’ve always acted as more of a life partner to her than Gary ever was. Even if it was just platonic at the time, she couldn’t shake the feelings that she had for you, no matter how hard she tried. When she told you that you were a big reason that she didn’t want to get married and officially broke it off with the vending machine man, she was serious.

It’s been two months. Two months. There was no rebound for her, and she certainly didn’t want to make you feel like a rebound. But two months is a long time, and she thinks she’s ready to start getting back into the game… get together with you.

But when you made this beautiful gesture to her, the redhead knew that she had to make a gesture that equaled your initial efforts. You’re worth it.

The flowers that you had given her all had meaning behind them, and she loved that. She actually pressed quite a few of them before it was too late so she could keep them forever. She’s planning to put them in resin to keep them on display forever.

So she decides to take a page out of your book.

During your preps, she tells you that she has a few parent phone calls to make, a simple white lie that will keep you out of her room without becoming suspicious.

“Oh, good luck with that one,” you chuckle as you head for your own room. “If you finish them up early, you know you’re always more than welcome to come down.”

She nods. She feels a bit guilty lying to you, but she knows it will worth it.

She spends most of her prep period researching the different meanings of flowers. She knows you love roses though, and roses come in all different colors and signify different things. She’s able to order a custom bouquet of roses, and she’s decided that she’ll put them around the school for you to find throughout your day when she’s able to pick them up. All she wants to do is make you feel as special as you made her feel. You’re worth it. She plans to buy a dozen roses, in an assortment of colors, before planning out where she’ll put them all. By the end of her research and planning, there’s only ten minutes left of her prep. Deciding that she wants to see you, she plans to order the flowers for you while she’s waiting for you to come over that night. Satisfied with her work, she closes her laptop and heads for your room.

When she gets there, she refrains from knocking for just a few seconds, taking in the sight of you.

You’re just sitting at your desk, looking at your laptop. But the way that the sun is hitting you makes you look like you’re glowing, and there’s almost a sort of angelic effect that the light in providing. One leg is crossed over the other, and the slit in your dress shows off just the smallest bit of your skin. Your blue light glasses are set on your face, and she can’t help but think that you look adorable with them on. She knows in that moment (not that she didn’t already) that she’s making the right choice. She licks her lips subconsciously before knocking gently on your door frame.

You glance up, and a smile washes over your face. “Hey. How’d the calls go?”

“Oh they went alright,” she tells you. “But it’s exhausting. Care to join me for a cup of coffee in the break room before we have to pick up our little gremlins?”

You laugh as you move your glasses so they’re on top of your head. “You know I can always use the jolt of caffeine.” You stand and make your way over to her, looping your arm through hers and heading for the staff room.

As she’s waiting for you to arrive at her house for dinner, she orders the bouquet of flowers that she’s going to give you piece by piece.

The order gets confirmed just as you text her to let you know that you’re in her driveway. She closes her laptop and heads for the door, ready to greet you.

You look perfect to her. Golden hour is upon the two of you, and she has to refrain from pulling you into a kiss right then and there. If she does that, then her flower gesture just won’t be the same.

She picks up the flower the next morning before heading into the school earlier than she ever has. She has to beat you to the school if she’s going to pull this off. Quickly, she drops her bag at her desk before grabbing the little notecards she had prepared the night before. She organizes the flowers and gets to putting them into the different places she wants you to find them. Once every flower is in its right place, she makes her way back into her classroom to actually prepare for her day with the students.

You come wandering in not fifteen minutes later, eager to see the redhead. You take your bags into your classroom and you go to set them down on the top of the desk, but you stop. Sitting there are two gorgeous yellow roses, and there’s a note tied around them neatly. You recognize the handwriting to be Melissa’s right away.

The note reads in her beautiful script, As much as I wanted to hate you, I just couldn’t. So we started off as friends… just friends.

You pick them up and bring them to your nose, delighted with the sweet aroma they let off. You drop your bag before heading over to your cabinet and plucking out the vase that you keep at the school. You fill it with water before heading over to her room to thank her.

Taped on the door though, is another rose. This one is orange, and there’s another note tied to the stem.

As I watched you settle into your role here, I couldn’t help but admire your excitement to get to make a difference. I couldn’t help but adore you… both the personal and professional side. You made work exciting.

You pull that one off the door and stick it in your vase before you knock gently three times. Her eyes flit to you, and she smiles warmly.

“Good morning,” she says in her usual tone, as if she isn’t up to something.

“These flowers are gorgeous,” you tell her as you make your way over to the redhead. “Thank you.”

She just smiles at you softly. “Of course, hun. I’m glad you like them.”

“How did you know I love roses?” you ask as you perch yourself on her desk, admiring the beautiful flowers being held to your chest.

“You have to remember that I’ve seen you walk in here with various bouquets over the months to liven up your room… they’re always roses.”

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention,” you shrug.

She chuckles softly. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you… coffee?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you laugh. The two of you start to make your way out of her room when you notice something taped to the inside of her door. It’s another flower- this one gold.

“How many flowers do you have hidden around here?” you ask as you gently pry it off the door and glance at the note. She ignores your question and instead gestures for you to read what she had written to pair with this rose.

Watching your loyalty to not only your students, but this school and your work family has been nothing short of beautiful- like you.

You practically swoon at that little note, and when you look over at Melissa, she’s watching you with a fondness in her eyes. You place the flower into the vase and carry it down with you to the staff room.

You make your way over to where the coffee mugs are in order to start prepping the pot of coffee that you need to make. When you open the cupboard. there, in your mug is a beautiful yellow rose that has red ends, much like the one that you got her.

Somewhere along the line, our friendship turned into more.

As you hold that flower close and smell it, she wraps a gentle arm around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. You turn your head ever so slightly, and you look at her with a hopeful look.

“Is this going where I think it is?” you ask softly.

She shrugs. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But you’re not even halfway to the amount of flowers, so I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but you’re willing to play along with her game. You half expect another rose to be waiting for you when you open the other side of the cabinet with the coffee grounds in it, but there isn’t one. You go about your morning with more pep in your step than usual, and when your crew starts to filter in to the room, they all look at the two of you curiously. Neither of you says anything, choosing to stay in this little bubble that you’ve created for yourselves. Instead, you sip on your drinks and watch the news with them like you would any other day.

All too soon, it’s time for your group to disperse for the day. You head for the vending machine as you usually do, to grab your bag of chips that you have during snack time with the kids. In the machine is a blue rose. It has a note on it, but you can’t quite see it. Sighing, you insert your money and pay for the blue rose that clearly is meant for you.

As it drops, you feel a warm hand settle on your waist again.

Our friendship had turned into more, but it was impossible. There were too many pieces to make the puzzle fit, so it didn’t happen.

You look at her, a sad look in your eyes. But there’s a sparkle in her own green ones that tells you that this still might turn out okay.

As the two of you are walking down the halls, arm in arm, you ask her quietly, “How’d you manage to get that in there? Gary usually fills our machines, and I know he isn’t about to be doing you any favors.”

She shrugs. “I know a guy.”

You laugh at that. Of course she knows another guy who could open the vending machine for her to plant the blue rose.

“Have a good morning, hun,” she tells you as she drops you at her room. “I’ll see you during prep.”

You watch her as she saunters down the halls, hips swaying just a bit more than they usually do. You have to stop yourself from drooling at the sight.

You set the vase on your desk where you can see the beautiful flowers, but you take all of the notes off. You slip those in your purse before admiring the beautiful little bouquet that you’ve created.

Your kids are all too thrilled to see the different flowers.

“Miss Y/N!” one of your kids grins when she walks in. “Those are beautiful! Where did you get these ones?”

You grin. “A special someone gave them to me.”

The class lets out a chorus of ‘ooh’s, and you deal with quite a line of questioning before you can convince them to continue on with your morning.

The kids are wonderful for you as always, and before you know it, you’re dropping them off at art class. The art teacher hands you two beautiful roses, one light pink and one dark pink. Attached to them is a note.

“What does it say?!” one of the girls in your class questions. They don’t let you leave the room until you’ve read the note aloud.

“And even through all of this, you’ve been nothing short of perfect. These two flowers symbolize the thanks and appreciation I have for you, all that you do, all that you’ve done, and all that I know you’ll continue to do,” you read. Again, they let out a chorus of cheers before you turn on your heel and head down the hall to your favorite coworker’s classroom.

She’s all grins as you enter with the two flowers in hand.

“I see Sheila was able to deliver the flowers to you,” she smirks.

“I’m starting to think that she’s my secret admirer.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges you playfully. “Please.”

“Too bad I’m not into her, and I have a thing for this one other coworker of mine instead… sweet redhead, if I can admit that,” you flirt.

The two of you spend your prep quietly, both of you working on things that you have to get done for the rest of the day and preparing for future days. It’s soft, it’s warm, it feels like home. Melissa feels like home.

But that time is up all too quickly, and the two of you have to go pick up your kids.

When it comes time to pack your bags to head out for the night, you can’t help but admire your flowers again. Although they look a bit… more full. Without you noticing, there’s been two white flowers slipped into the bunch, a note attached to them.

I am worthy of you, and you are worthy of me, the note reads. It’s simple. Your heart nearly melts.

You take a picture of the bouquet that you’ve gathered before grabbing your bags and heading down the hall to Melissa’s room.

“How did you manage to slip those last two in there?” you ask her as you saunter in.

She just gives you a shy smile. “Every once in a while, it pays off to have your kids be familiar with me… like when I asked Jamal if he would sneak them in there while you were busy monitoring the kids packing up. It doesn’t help when I’m out at recess duty and they come up to me crying with their drama.”

You chuckle at that. It’s the same for you with her kids. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And? You love it.”

“I do.”

“I’ll see you at my house in an hour?”

“I wouldn’t miss a homemade Schemmenti meal,” you grin.

The two of you walk out together, but this time she gently slips her hand into your own, interlocking your fingers. You glance down at them, a blush creeping into your cheeks.

She walks you to your car, before getting into her own.

You pull up to her house the promised hour later, a nice bottle of wine in hand. You don’t even have the chance to knock before she’s opening the door for you. In her own hand are two red roses. There’s a note attached to them. And before you can even take the offered flowers, she takes your hand gently and pulls you in. She kisses you softly yet passionately.

When you pull away, your smile matches the one written into her face. You glance down at the flowers, reading the note.

From friends, to an impossible love, to something that I’ve found is worth fighting for.

“Red?” you whisper. “That means…”

She nods. “It means I love you.”

Those words take your breath away, and you have to control the tears that threaten to pour over onto your cheeks as you pull her in for another kiss.

“I love you too,” you whisper once you’ve pulled apart. Your forehead rests against hers.

“I’m ready,” she tells you quietly, but with confidence.

Yeah. She was worth the wait.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

312 notes · View notes

nebbyy · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!

King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies

A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!

Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭

Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!

Word count: 2918

Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.

It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.

It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.

And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.

And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.

With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.

His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy.

To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.

How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.

His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.

But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.

And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.

When I see the lark beating

Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun

That it forgets itself and lets itself fall

Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart

She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.

Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.

Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me

Of all those whom I see rejoicing,

But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?

His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.

I wonder that my heart, at that moment,

Does not melt from desire.

Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil.

Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.

Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...

Alas! How much I thought I knew

About love, and how little I know,

Because I cannot keep myself from loving

The one from whom I will gain nothing.

"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.

"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”

He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face.

He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"

You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."

His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.

"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.

"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven."

You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.

Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"

"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."

"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in.

For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.

@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3

#fluff #writers on tumblr #f!reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x reader #king baldwin x you #koh #medieval fiction #historical fiction #writing requests #requests open #anon ask #anon request

237 notes · View notes

ajortga · 11 months ago

Text

the forgotten letter

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader

a/n- ahh guys it's finally here! probably one of the longest word count story i've done with around 6k words, but yes! for the people who voted on my poll, i did both angst and happy ending<3. i hope you enjoy!

thank you for 100 followers, i guess this is a special!

You think you loved Tara for as long as you could remember.

Well, years later, you think you loved her ever since you laid eyes on her, if you knew what love meant.

It was like a click, a connection, the kind of love you didn't even know was real out of movies.

But it was, it all was when you met Tara.

You had met her in second grade, well, you could say a year after. How could you forget that every day, you were on the swings, and the only reason was to be able to see Tara eating at the same table with her lunch box without being caught staring. You always looked at the sky when she turned, sometimes you would make eye contact and she'd give you the sweetest smile that made you kick your feet and giggle till you fell asleep with a smile on your face two nights in a row.

You were always a shy soul when it came to making conversations with strangers, especially someone as beautiful as Tara, with her wavy, long hair that seemed to always be perfect. A little messy? You wouldn't dare to say that, one small messy hair is like realizing how it complimented the girl you thought was perfect enough. Her dark brown eyes seemed to have stars in them, you loved stars.

The first time you made an interaction, it was the same procedure, lunch-time bell rings, your classmates squeal, you all run out, and you make your way to the second swing that was next to the lunch tables. Then you'd wait and wait, till you saw her, then you'd swing, even though you weren't very good, you only got a foot high at most times.

Usually, when you would swing, your friends would be there, but when you told them about Tara, and how you said, "I think she's very very very pretty." They all laughed, saying "ewwwwww.." They kind of left you by yourself on the swings from then forward.

You were sad, but that didn't stop you from always looking at her.

Tara noticed, you were staring at your feet, swinging lowly and she felt bad, she didn't like strangers, but she always saw you, it was like you were friends. So she abandoned her lunch box and walked over to you.

"Hi.. Do you want me to help swing you? My sissy Sam taught me some ways so you could swing higher! I can push you if you want!"

You looked up at her mouth open as they quickly turned into a wide smile, Tara thought it was cute.

"Yes please! I-I don't know how to swing very high.."

She giggled, shaking her head as she approached closer behind you, where the handles were, "I know, every day you are here and every time, I see you swing and swing! But your friends.. They aren't here. Are they absent?"

You shook your head, a little pout showing, "No.. They.." You didn't know what to say, and as much as you wanted to lie.. You couldn't to this girl that made you smile. "I come here and see you every day, and I always want to talk to you, but I feel weird and not comfy when I try talking to people I don't know very well. My mommy says it's called being shy. I think you are very pretty. My friends don't like when people say that. They say it's yucky. So now I'm a little lonely."

Tara looked surprised, but it quickly turned into a small smile, tilting her head, "You think I'm pretty?"

You nod your head up and down, "I think you are very pretty, I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."

She smiles, happily, "I think you're very pretty too! Wow! I never been called pretty! Thank you! Wow!"

You turn to her and give her a smile you never knew existed, it looked so happy, "Thank you!"

"My name is Tara by the way. Tara Carpenter!"

"I'm Y/N! Y/N Y/L/N! That name fits you.. Tara.. I don't think I'll remember that.." (That was a lie, you memorized it by the time you got home and asked your mom to write it on your notebook..) "I think I'll have to call you a shorter name.. Like.. Cheese!"

She makes a small grimace, but it looked so cute, "Cheese? You're funny!"

You both giggled as you give her a cheeky grin, "I think we'll be really good friends."

"Me too," She says with a soft voice, pushing you on the swings, higher than you could ever imagine. You could see the clouds and felt like you could touch them, but most of all, you could see her name in the sky.

"Tara Carpenter," You whispered to yourself with a squeal as Tara pushed you higher.

- -

In 6th grade, your parents had a big fight that made your eyes go wide, making you hide under your bed as you clawed at your ears, silently sobbing. Sure they fought and it could be bad, but this one was different, it was worse, screaming, crying, your walls shaking and random things being thrown. You found out that they got divorced.

Then at that night, you grabbed your phone and opened your window with tears in your eyes, going to Tara's house, running as fast as you could move.

You climbed up the ladder that Tara had shown you and crawled to her room on top of the house, knocking quietly on her window, sniffling.

A long moment later, you could see her shadow as she opened it, rubbing her eyes as she looked at you, "Y/N?"

Then, she looked up at your face, the only light was from her lamp and the moonlight, finally seeing your tear stained cheeks and crying eyes.

"You're crying," She says, concern flooding through her features as she pulled you inside and onto her bed.

She sat next to you as you stared at her stuffed animal.

"Not too much.." You murmur, tears daring to fall down again.

"Why?"

Should you tell her something that has been going on for almost your whole life?..

"My parents fought today.. Oh Tara.. It was terrifying.. There was screaming, crying, I heard so many things being thrown and I tried everything.. It just w-wouldn't stop.. They.. I.. They..." You sniffle, your mouth opening to let out soft cries, she knew what happened, your mom and dad weren't together anymore.

Something in Tara broke, she couldn't see you cry. Seeing you cry made her eyes water, especially someone like you.

She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer, making you sob against her chest, rubbing circles behind your back, something she learned in the past.

"It's all going to be okay. I'm here. I won't ever leave you."

Your lip trembles, looking up at her, "Do you really promise?"

She can see it in your eyes, fear. You don't want her to leave you.

"I promise."

You nod against her chest, turning away from her so your back is facing her stomach as she hugs you.

A moment passes before you turn to her again, she could see something swimming underneath those eyes, uncertainty.

"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."

Tara can feel her heart squeeze as she nods, nuzzling your nose. "I really promise."

You nod, "I trust you. I always trust you." You whisper, sniffling as you hug her, your nose buried against her chest as you cry, cries turning more muffled as she can sense your beginning to fall asleep. You never heard, but as you slept, she kissed your forehead quickly, whispering a small, "Love you."

- -

When Tara was 15, her parents divorced like yours, and both her dad and sister left her. She didn't know what she felt.

She was upset, she cried in her bed for months..

But then, she felt angry. Angry at her dad, her sister, at the world.

It was a turn of events for her and it caused her to shut everyone out. Everyone.

Including you.

She didn't want to take any anger out on you, she would never be angry you. But she always felt like if she talked to someone she cared deeply about, like you, she would snap.

But she never thought abandoning you would hurt you as much as she thought.

At first, it was when she saw you in the halls, and you saw her, but as soon as she met your eyes, she would turn a corner, seeing your waving hand fall limp to your sides. She felt bad. But it would get easier, and it did.. But she always felt that small feeling of guilt eating at her.

It happened multiple times, but you thought she just couldn't see you.

Then it was in the classes you shared when she wouldn't talk to you.

You usually would talk to her, but whenever she wouldn't talk to you first, you would think she's busy.

But she never turned to you with a joke, a conversation, not even a glance when you saw.

You sat alone at lunch, you sat alone at dinner too, maybe be greeted with your dad if he was drinking.

No more good morning, goodnight, or any texts from Tara.

You tried approaching her, but every time you'd lock eyes, she'd give you this stare that made your gut twist and walk the other way.

You couldn't help but cry, you felt betrayed, everything was crumbling. You had lost the one person that you cared so so deeply about, the person you desperately wanted to be by your side for the rest of your life.

It was hard to get any sleep, because most of the time, you'd be staring at the ceiling, waiting for a goodnight text that would never come. The goodnight text that let you fall asleep as quickly as you shut your eyes.

And you thought that it was because of you, she didn't want to see you ever again.

You cried, every single night till you passed out from exhaustion.

Little did Tara know, that there was a letter on the side of your desk, the fresh ink marking it's words on the paper beginning to see the seasons change, beginning to grow as time went on.

The letter you were going to give Tara confessing your love.

The letter that you spent day and night on.

The letter that was now untouched for months, left on the side of your desk.

The letter, filled with your words of adoration, never being able to experience a reaction, because you never gave to her.

You felt numb, you didn't know what to feel, but you felt abandoned, it hurt so much, it hurt harder than a piercing knife in the heart.

Tara noticed you began to avoid her, began to finally accept it.

You never truly accepted it, you would say you just lost hope, 3 years had passed so quickly.

In class, when she'd turn to you, you never turned back.

When she would sit at the spot you both sat at, she would see your shadow sitting on the chair, untouched and cold.

Sometimes she'd see you at the park, just sitting on a picnic towel and writing in your journal.

Under the tree you both would always sit,

Never having the guts to approach you.

She would say you seemed peaceful, but you weren't. Because whenever she saw your face, it's like your sweet persona was gone and faded, the vibrant colors you used to have was long gone.

Replaced with eyebags, tired eyes, and hair that was always covered by headphones or a hoodie.

Tara never knew why her leaving you left a big mark on your heart, you two were just friends. Right?

She tried to stop thinking about why, but she couldn't help it, you popped up in her head on nights she couldn't go to bed so easily.

- -

Tara was looking at the stars one night, just staring, the moonlight glistening on her cheeks.

She thought of you. She thought back to second grade, words that were ages ago. She could hear your tiny voice.

"I see these stars in your eyes that no one else has, I think it's cool."

She then realized she made a huge mistake, why didn't she think of it before?

Her leaving you was like you being abandoned again, she left you in the dark when she said she would never abandon you. But she left just like your parents.. She left just like how her parents did..

She promised that night you had ran to her. She promised that she would never leave you, and you weren't the person who trusted people often.

But you trusted her. You knew that she wouldn't leave you.

You thought she wouldn't leave you.

She was the first person you thought of when you were afraid, because she was really all you had.

"Do you really promise? Y-You're all I have."

She remembers those words she said that night, her voice running around her mind, saying the words, "I promise."

She remembers you telling her your parents divorced, she remembers you telling her that when you were with your mom, she was never home, you never had a holiday to spend with your family. Most days alone, and when you met Tara, she always let you come for the holidays.

She was all you had, and you were faithful in what she told you. But she abandoned you, just like everybody in your life had did. She had did something she never wanted to be in the first place. She was so mad that she was left by her family, even when her mom was still with her, that she didn't realize that she did the one thing she wanted so badly not to be.

Abandoned, you were abandoned when she was all you had.

She knew she had to do what was right, she thought distancing herself would work. But it made you worse. She had to fix it.

- -

You were sitting at the park, same place, with your journal, your tote bag in the other, listening to god knows what.

(You were listening to "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron..)

Tara was going to finally approach you.

Something in her gut told her something was wrong, something was going to be wrong. But she sighed, just brushing it off and thinking that it would be you possibly never forgiving her.

She sat next to you, making your head turn from the small thump next to you.

Your eyes were shocked, mouth agape, whispering the only word she could make up.

"Tara.."

She bit her lip, but instead of smiling at her, you didn't say anything, looking at her with a small scowl and turned your head back to your journal, exhaling an angry huff.

She frowned, looking at you, reaching for your shoulder.

"Look.. Y/N-"

"-Save it Tara." You snapped, making her flinch.

"Y/N, please."

You make a long sigh, turning to her. "Tara I really don't have time for this. You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"

She looked confused but she kept going, "Look I-I'm sorry. For leaving you."

You turned to her again, at this point she could read your gaze, you were angry, you were upset, most of all behind those eyes, you were hurt.

"You can't just leave me for 3 years and come back to apologize thinking I'll forgive you just like that! You're out of my life for so long and come back like nothing has happened."

She exhaled, "Let me just speak! I-I've learned from then and I'm trying to apologize!"

You stopped her, "I don't want you apologizing for this damage that has caused my life to crumble and has already been dealt with.."

She interrupted you, "I know! But I was dealing with so much! M-my parents divorced and I thought letting you go would be best.. Please, I'm trying! Can't we just go back to what we had and forget what has happened?"

You were hurt, tears brimming at your eyes, "You don't understand! Are you forgetting that you left me? YOU left me Tara! And you didn't bother to even tell me or apologize when you left. I was depressed okay? And it was because of you! Every single damn day for three years I was never able to sleep properly because I would think that you would finally text me one night and wish me a goodnight! You were all I had! When my parents divorced I didn't leave you!"

At this point, when your mouth opened, soft cries were being heard, "You were all I had.." You repeat, sniffling, "You promised me you wouldn't leave and that's just what you did."

She felt bad, the walls you put up to get away from her were all falling apart, she saw the little girl that she knew once before. The little girl she saw that night your parents divorced when they both left you. She felt all this guilt that has built up when she ignored you beginning to swarm in her chest, she felt horrible.

"I'm sorry. I don't even know who I was.." She whispered, looking at your shaking figure.

You turned to her, your tears flowing down, like the three years to stop them wasn't enough.

"Tara just s-stop! I-I'm just getting over you after this long and I can't have you here again. N-not today."

She looked at you, aghast, eyes wide, "What?"

You cover your face, hands sliding down to stop, "Yes Tara! I loved you! I fucking loved you and the day I was going to tell you, you left! YOU left me!" You screamed, angry, betrayed, sentence ending with a cry.

She was stunned. You loved her.. You loved Tara. And she thought that when she loved you, pushing you away could make her forget her feelings, making sure you were safe, but she caused this.

You didn't wait for her to respond, shuffling through your tote bag and grabbing up a crumpled piece of paper, slamming it in her hand before you got up and left, the gush of wind hitting her hair as she stared at her hand in horror, not knowing what to do.

- - night

Tara sat in her room, staring at the ceiling, hair draped all over her bed as the only light was from her lamp, only adding a light orange hue to her room.

She felt bad, she should've known that she never should've left you. She should've thought about how you were going to feel like. It made her want to cry.

As much as she's staring, she notices the crumpled up paper you gave her. She wasn't even sure what it was, maybe that's why she was so scared of opening it.

She grabs it from the side of her night stand and slowly uncrumples it, revealing a letter.

From you 3 years ago.

Dear Tara,

We've been friends for so long and I remember when you first came up to me in second grade because you noticed my friends weren't playing with me like they usually do everyday. To be honest, I never told you but for some reason, years ago, I remember staring at you every day while you ate lunch because you seemed so sweet and I wanted to approach you so badly. It's weird that myself in second grade would even do that. But you should know the only reason why I sat on the swings, every, single, day was because I wanted to see you. That's the first time we've ever met and I'm so blessed for that day because now, you're my best friend. Everyday I'm so happy to have you to be the reason I get to smile and have a shoulder to cry on or rest on. I've been wanting to tell you this for so long, but I remember feeling a strange feeling in my chest when I first confessed my problems at home with my parents and felt your soft hands touch mine to comfort me.

It was so so weird. Love always seemed like something I might never have because I found it to be gross. But when I met you, I felt like love wasn't so bad anymore. That day, I remember feeling this warmness in my cheeks when you hugged me, I remember feeling something I don't feel for people often. I felt trust. That's when I knew I was falling in love with you. you've been there every step of the way and I don't know where I'd be without you. Tara, I want to write to you that I love you. I've been falling ever since on nights where I got yelled at and came to your house crying, when you invited me over for Christmas with your family because I didn't have a home I wanted to go to, I love you because you're Tara and it's so hard to explain. but at the same time it isn't. I don't think I met someone as loving, understanding, and caring as you, I've seen you as someone who can light up a room. Even on my bad days, you somehow manage to make me smile, not many people can do that for a person like me.

My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay. I would've been long gone if you weren't here. But meeting you has caused me to look forward to something to everyday. To someone. I don't think I've ever been so happy to you know, just walk to your house randomly and pop out under your bed and see your scared reaction. But, Tara Carpenter, I love you. I don't even think these words can even explain the kind of comfort, or need that I feel when you're by my side. I hope that these words can help you realize how much you've taken a toll on my life, and possibly, one day I can be by your side for the rest of my life.

All my love,

Y/N/Y/L/N

<;33

Tara covered her mouth, trying to cover a cry, which came out muffled. Your words. Her betrayal. She left you before you could even tell her.

She thought of your face in her thoughts, she thought of seeing the letter fall out of your hands when she ignored you on every day she could ever see you.

She thought of you crumpling it with broken sobs and throwing it on your desk.

She thought of the letter you were going to give her, the letter that was supposed to be given, but never was.

The forgotten letter beginning to age.

And noticed, it was all ruffled and there were marks of fallen, long old tears on it, seeing how the ink smudged from the tears.

The letter fell, tears falling from her eyes and streaming down her face.

It must've been so long ago. But it felt like yesterday. Even though it was 3 years ago.

She could've changed the slightest thought of her mind the day she began to ignore you.

If she did, everything would've been right. She could picture her holding hands with you, cuddling at night with your favorite movie playing in the background. You two would've been in desperate, everlasting, love. If her parents didn't divorce, she could see you, in your usual wavy hair with a ribbon tied from the back with your half up half down, the smooth letter laying in your arms, running up to her. She could picture the way you smiled, the way your silly smile made her smile back with a tinted blush on her cheeks. She could picture the way she would jump up and down and say she loved you too.

Everything would've been perfect.

If she didn't leave you in the first place.

Instead, she was left with your letter, crumpled, not smooth, wrinkled, seeing the way the letter couldn't bear to be left anymore.

Tara fell asleep that night, broken, feeling horrible for the way you must've felt, with the crinkled letter in her hand.

- -

The next morning, Tara was at the park, she could see a train station up ahead, New York's local train station that she would take when she had to travel.

Tara was sitting under the tree you always sat at with her. The tree that held so many memories, the way when spring would hit, the white flowers would fall on the green grass when you two would be together. The way the tree's flowers began to wilt when you began to sit alone, like the friendship that began to wilt.

She waited, you sat at this tree every single day, but why weren't you coming? She waited, looking up at the flowers, they weren't very white anymore, the fallen flowers a little orange from being dried. It was spring, it was April, the flowers should've been whiter, but they weren't as bright. What a metaphor and sign it was for her. But still, they were as pretty as ever.

She bit her lip, sighing, grabbing the letter you wrote her again, reading it again. Then before she could read it again, as she looked up, she could see..

You?

You were at the train station, you held a luggage, looked packed, with your hair down, usually ribbon in your hair, waiting to enter the train.

Her eyes widened, and it came to her, everything made sense, her thoughts unfolding, everything like magic was happening.

She remembered something, something..

She quickly read the letter she was reading, then her eyes expanded with fear.

Then she remembered, it was 3 years since she left you, and it was April.

"My mother was planning to move to Canada in like 3 years, she said 3 years later in April, but she said it was up to me. And I told her we had to wait just a little longer because I wanted to give this letter to you and see what you said. I think I won't leave this place because it stores all our memories, like at the coffee shops or the tree we sit down at every morning of Saturday. I'm not leaving because you're the only person that is making me stay."

- -

happy ending

"Fuck!" Tara cried, grabbing the letter as she ran after you.

It couldn't be too late, it couldn't have been today!

As she ran, her legs taking her as far as they could, she could hear your voice in her mind,

"You shouldn't be being here right now. You can't be here today! You shouldn't be!"

She should've known you were going to leave, she should've seen last night! Is that why you were so afraid to see her when she came up to you? Because you knew you were going to be gone the next day? And she was going to keep you from leaving? Because you didn't have the heart to really tell her why she couldn't have talked to you?

It all made sense.

Tara sobbed as tears fell like a thunderstorm, running and seeing the train doors open, there were at least 10 people in front of you waiting to get on, it made her more desperate, running after you.

She screamed your name, she was so close but yet so far away, why can't the people move slower?

Tara lost her father and sister, she couldn't lose you. She can't. She needed to apologize, she never got to say her true apology.

She was almost there, and you were so close to entering the train, making her run up the stairs as fast as she could, panting and losing her breath.

The day was beginning to lose hope, there was only a few more people who needed to get on before it closed, before you did.

She saw your figure, your pretty face, not focusing on the tired eye bags as she got up the stairs, running to the train.

Tara screamed your name as loud as she could, making you turn, and her grabbing your arm, pulling you and your luggage out of the train, seeing it start to roll away.

She was panting hard, you turning to see her, your eyes full of fear, confusion, and most of all, a wave of.. Hope?

For some reason, it took her a while to catch her breath, but before you could say something, she hugged you, tightly.

The arms of you wrapped around her stomach, she felt you melt in her arms, burying your face against her chest, as she embraced you, the letter you wrote falling to the floor.

Tara cried as you both hugged, whispering in a slight broken voice, "I'm sorry Y-Y/N.."

You were crying too, softly as you hugged her, "I know.. It's okay. We're okay.."

She kept talking, she felt horrible, "I-I left you when you needed me.. I was the only person you relied on a-and I left because I w-wasn't thinking about how you felt.. I thought t-that if I c-could push you away, these feelings I-I felt would go away and I wouldn't take m-my anger out on you for my parents divorcing.. I'm s-so s-sorry.." The girl's scent comforted you, reminding you of your past, making you hug her more.

Tara could hear you hiccupping on cries as she twisted your hair, "I didn't even k-know you needed me that much, you s-should've told me you were planning to leave."

You looked up at her, you were crying horribly, she swept bangs away from your face to see your tired, broken face that has been building up these past 3 years.

"I-I thought you didn't want to see me anymore.. I thought you didn't need me.. I-I thought you left because you hated me.. or didn't care about me anymore.. I couldn't bear to think about you breaking your promise.. I thought you abandoned me.. I was s-so hurt that I j-just did all these things that weren't me.. I tried to avoid you.. I couldn't sleep or eat.. I was s-so scared because I had no one.." You said, voice barely a whisper, raw and full of hurt.

Tara's eyes widened a little, a wave of strong guilt hitting her, as she shushed you.. "No Y/N.. Of course not.. I never hated you.. I-I loved you and I couldn't bear to think that I would take my anger out that you never caused on you.. S-so I avoided you and didn't think about how m-much it would affect you. I'm sorry.." Tara said again, voice cracking.

You nodded against her chest, sniffling as Tara saw the tears fall again, wiping them.

"I love you," she whispered, "I always had."

She saw your eyes slightly sparkle, that sparkle that she thought she'd never see, the sparkle that disappeared that day she left.

Her hands reached to grab the letter she dropped, showing it to you, "Let's try to restart, okay?"

You were still crying, but managed to make a small smile formed as you nodded, "Tara, I love you. I've loved you for so long, I've loved you when I realized that you were the one person that I could finally trust, a word that I thought that might never happened, but it did because o-of you. C-can we maybe.. Just.."

She pulled you a little closer, grinning just a little as she nodded her head before you could finish, "Yes."

Then she kissed you softly, it was like everything had never happened, she could feel the way you hugged her, the way the wilted flowers were going to flourish again, the letter that was forgotten, finally given.

"Do you really promise you won't leave me?.."

You both locked eyes when pulling away, Tara held up a pinky.

"I don't break pinky promises."

You take her pinky and link it with yours, hugging her again.

"I trust you."

Every bad thing that happened between you two was long forgotten.

- -

angst ending

Tara's eyes widened with fear, seeing you with a packed luggage, your figure entering the train, you couldn't.. Not today..

"Fuck!" She cried, the train was not to far, she could still make it.

She screamed your name, all the feelings towards you she felt spilling out from her scream as she ran after you.

She ran, ran ran ran, running out of breath as her shoes crumpled on dry leaves and grass, crying.

"No! You can't be! Y/N! Please!" She screamed, but her voice was muffled, you couldn't hear her.

Tara was so close, yet so far as she kept running, getting closer, an apology of cries coming out.

The train got closer and closer as she finally saw you, screaming your name.

You finally turned around, knowing the voice all to well as you turned to see her.

Then the train doors closed, your eyes only being seen through the window as she cried out your name, shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes filled with regret and tears.

You looked at her, like you couldn't believe she was here, you thought you'd never see her again as your hand reached up to touch the window, your touch ghosting on her face as she could hear you mouth out her name.. "Tara.." Then she could sense the sense of shame on your face, sorrow.

"Please.. It's not too late.." She sobbed, her voice going in the crevices of the doors.

Then the train began to move, as she saw you getting farther and farther away, your hand on the window as she saw you mouth the words, "I'm sorry."

She ran after the train, but knew deep down, she wasn't going to make it. She wasn't going to see you again, the train leaving her sight as she cried, regretting the days she ignored you, regretting the way she made you think that she didn't ever care. She abandoned someone when knowing, years ago, she was once the girl who promised to protect them and never leave her side.

She knew that you had left, all those memories you two had created were left with her now. She knew that you weren't going to come back.

She never even got to say goodbye. She never got to say sorry. She never got to tell you she loved you, she loved you all of these years. She never knew where you would be. She would never know if you two would ever meet again.

The only sound she could hear was the wind blowing in her hair, blowing the muffled sounds of you two laughing and giggling, what you two once were, what you two could've been, it was just too late. You would just be a memory for her, a memory she could never forgive herself for. A broken memory she knew she caused. The memory was broken but she also knew, long season months ago, she broken your promised heart.

I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

Take me back to the night we met.

Tara thought back to the day you two met, the day you became friends. The day that led to you falling to her years later. The day that led to her falling for you, then pushing you away.

The day that led to this.

If she could see your face one last time and kiss you, everything would be okay.

Tara knew that she was just too late, seeing the train long gone, tears in her eyes as she let out a choking sob, the letter falling out of her hand, long forgotten.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna marie ortega #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n

375 notes · View notes