#I wish they would've said something directly so we could clear it up

[bookwyrminspiration]

check the @/am-i-the-asshole-official account

Nonsie's directing me to this post, which involves the recent discourse. I'd hoped we could get through this one without using blogs like this, because I've found it's yet to be helpful; it creates non-direct communication and the posting delays drag things out, but oh well. Here we are.

It does give me a chance to clarify things, since I believe a good portion of what they're talking about references what I've said, but they've partially misrepresented my position (I assume non-maliciously).

I agree with them. Tagging is polite and a common fandom courtesy. It's respectful to your fellow fans, allowing them to better curate their online spaces. Wanting tagging is not censorship, nor have I called it such--if that's the impression anyone's gotten, perhaps I haven't been clear enough. Censorship is (simplified) suppressing something's existence/controlling other people's access (e.g. by banning it), not controlling your own access.

Asking someone to tag something is entirely fine, and wanting media properly tagged is, too. Nothing I have said argues against that. The point of my posts was directed to people thinking it can't exist and those who create/engage with that media are immoral/inherently awful/bad people for doing so. Which is separate, though I apologize if the way I presented my points assumed understanding of that

One thing that I will add though: at the end of the day, you can't make someone tag something, even if it is a courtesy. If someone isn't/won't tag how you need or want for whatever reason, then the responsibility circles back to you to take control and remove that person from your online experience. You're both within your rights still. Just another facet to it.

So to summarize: I have no qualms with this person's desire for tagging. If they think that's what I've been arguing, they've misunderstood my posts. However, I do concede I don't think I directly addressed tagging, which may have contributed.

Hopefully this clears things up, though it's possible whoever submitted that has me blocked/I blocked them and they won't see this.

[catsfor2]

hit me, part 2

wc: 2.5k, largely unedited warnings: swearing/language, talk of homophobia, physical injury a/n: omg hey. this part takes place directly after part 1. things are starting to happen...!also idk shit about shit so don't come at me for the medical stuff if its wrong :) tags: @elliewilliamsmunch@intrnetdoll@me-and-your-husbandur-husband@3zae-zae3@milahnoz@elliescumm@dragonasflowercrown

part 1

part 1.5

"So...where are we going?"

"It's a clearing. In the woods." Ellie's hands lazily slide around the steering wheel as she speaks. You could daydream while staring at Ellie for hours. It's relaxing to watch her drive.

"Hm. Are you gonna...kill me there? Or something?" You joke.

"Still deciding."

"Oh my—are you seriously still mad?"

She says nothing, pretending to be engaged with driving.

You let out an irked breath.

"Okay—Ellie, I'm sorry. I was wasted out of my mind. And you look really different. Like, not just in your face. Everywhere is different." You confess, fiddling with the stickers peeling off of her dashboard.

"So do you. I still managed to fuckin' figure it out."

"I—I think I almost did? I remember looking at you and feeling really—confused, mostly. I didn't understand why I liked this stranger so much." You say, vaguely remembering how clingy and overt you acted last night.

"You were confused? I was fucking confused," her head swivels to yours. "a lesbian? That's what you are now?"

"Don't—don't say it like that. I came out like everyone else. You just weren't there to hear it."

Ellie lets out a choked laugh.

"Oh, Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"I wrote you and called you for fucking months. Nothing. A letter a fucking day. Are you listening? Do you know how many letters that is?"

You stay silent. Your hands ball up where they rest on your lap.

"Fuckin' say something! I even asked Dina for your number but you cut her off too! Is there a reason you basically fucking died?"

"I wasn't home, Ellie."

She stills, her shoulders relaxing a touch. She adjusts back towards the road before clearing her throat.

"At...at sixteen? What happened?"

You recall you, sixteen, sobbing and frantic. Tearing apart the letter Ellie wrote to tell you that she left. Wondering why it felt more like a breakup then your actual one did. Cursing yourself over and over and over again for only being sixteen. Your parents cursing Ellie for corrupting you.

"I feel like you can connect the dots." Your voice is just barely loud enough to hear over the droning tone of the car. The only focus you had at this point was trying not to cry in front of Ellie.

"Oh, fuck, y/n. I'm—I'm sorry. Did those fuckers kick you out?"

"No," you sigh. "I just knew I had leave. They're...crazy. I don't know. I'm fine now."

Her knuckles flex and tense over the steering wheel. Her teeth start to bite at her lips. There's a couple more seconds of quiet before she speaks up.

"I wish I would've been there."

You pause, not totally expecting what she said.

"Yeah," you breathe, gazing at the side of her head. "I wished that too."

And that wasn't a lie. Your family instilled a lot on you, mostly turning you away from religion. But then? You were desperate. Painfully, achingly desperate. And completely alone. After you left home, you prayed every single night. A genuine prayer, on your knees and everything. You even bought a $1.50 pocket bible from goodwill. All to aide in your bedtime routine of begging God to make Ellie come back.

She never did. You've been an atheist ever since. You weren't sure if her being here now changed anything.

The silence marinates for a short while longer until you feel the rocky texture of a gravel road beneath the car.

"We're here," Ellie states, throwing the gear in park. She takes a glance at your feet. "and you should've worn better shoes. We have walking to do."

You both hop out of the car.

"Like you couldn't have told me before we left?" You scoff.

"It's more fun to fuck with you later. C'mon," she grabs your hand, tightly clutching it in hers. "there's coyotes and shit around here. Don't be fuckin' stupid and stay close."

You try to will the warmth away from your cheeks. You've never held Ellie's hand before. Even if this doesn't really count as holding.

"Yeah, got it." You force out.

She leads you into the trees, hand warmly on yours, briskly following a mental path she's clearly walked many times.

"I almost got arrested over here," She sighs, far too casually.

"What?!"

"Damn—I said almost, chill." She assures, laughing at your shock.

You lightly slap her shoulder.

"I don't care! Almost getting arrested is still crazy!" You chide, eyes wide and judgmental.

Ellie's always been pretty...rebellious, but a part of you always thought that she'd be smart enough to avoid anything truly consequential. I guess she still is, you think.

"Lemme explain, ok. I was high as fuck, minding my business, when I saw some kids shootin'—a wolf, I think? Maybe a coyote—I saw them just...fuckin' up this poor thing with a—a BB gun."

"Oh my god..." You say, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do shit at first—I thought they'd stop. But they were like—about to kill this thing, I swear to God. So, I...ha..." Her face breaks into a wide smile. "you're not gonna like this,"

"...What. Not gonna like what."

"I pulled my gun on 'em."

"Ellie!"

"It wasn't even loaded, y'know I like to have it with me just in case..."

"They're kids!—"

"Asshole kids. Ok? And it fuckin' worked so—"

"I thought you said you almost got arrested?"

"Jesus—I did. You keep interrupting me—"

"Sorry." You quip, also realizing you just interrupted her with your apology.

"It's—it's fine. Anyway, those fucks called the cops on me after they ran. I found out cause the fuckin' pigs stopped me and asked if I'd seen an 'armed gunman in the area,'" She says, imitating a deep 'cop' voice. "dumbasses had no clue it was me."

You watch as she laughs, amused at her own story. Suddenly, your foot gets caught under a thick root and your arms fly out in an instant.

Ellie's hands hit your shoulders, grasping them upright, causing you to sharply crash into her chest.

"Oh—shit, sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going." You gasp out, trying to regain your balance while loosening your grip on Ellie's coat.

"No, it's those fuckin' shoes," she rebukes, hands still resting on your shoulders. She immediately takes them off you when she notices. "we're almost there anyway. Try not to kill yourself before then."

Your hand burns at your side, palm itching. Is she going to grab it again?

"Where's 'there'?" You ask, glancing around at the wall of trees and shrubbery encircling you both.

"You'll see. Just stay close." She repeats like before, clutching your hand once again.

You tighten your grip, wanting to show Ellie you're listening.

"Good. Let's move."

The two of you walk for about a mile or so more, before the view steals your eyes and you both freeze.

"Oh—wow, Ellie. This is really pretty," you breathe, entranced by the piercingly vibrant colors and towering mountainous structures.

Her head is turned toward you, taking in your reaction to the sight, instead of the sight itself.

She's must've seen it so many times, you think.

"Yeah, you like it? I knew you would." She tells you, unable to keep the satisfied grin from her face.

"Shut up. I'm still mad you didn't even let me get ready this morning."

"There's nobody here. Who're you fuckin' getting ready for?" She barks, arms wide and gesturing.

I still wanted to get ready for you, Ellie. But obviously you don't say that.

"Whatever. You just did it to be a dick." You mutter, plopping yourself down onto the boulder in front of you.

"Yeah, I did. It's funny when you're mad. You're like a cat." She laughs, sitting down next to you.

"That's toxic. You shouldn't make people mad just cause you find it funny." You chide, crossing your legs over the rock.

"Guess I'm toxic, then." She sighs, carelessly throwing pebbles at your head.

"Was that the plan? Sit on a rock and be mean to me?"

"Truly adorable that you think this is mean—"

"Well it's not nice, that's for sure." You huff.

Ellie shifts so that her body faces yours. Her legs spread out wide, elbows comfortably resting on her thighs.

"I don't think you want me to be nice to you."

Your mouth parts open in surprise, eyes now burning into Ellie's.

"Well that's a lie. I'd love for you to be nice—"

"I think you like when I'm mean to you. I think you...prefer it, actually." She juts, a confident smile forming.

"Yeah, and who told you that, Dina?" You question, crossing your arms as a breeze starts to make you shiver.

"Nobody told me anything." her head quirks to the side. "I can just tell."

It was difficult to keep your composure. There were some things Ellie seemed to know about you that you didn't even know yourself. It was terrifying, embarrassing, and flattering all at once. Your face feels like its melting. You stay silent.

"Oh—am I right? I've totally got you, haven't I?" She asks, enjoying fully the power she seems to have over you and your emotions.

"No." You bite, unwilling to try and say anything else.

You hated how often Ellie was right.

She takes a ball of black fabric from her pocket, tossing it in your lap. It's a hat.

"Put it on. It's cold."

A swarm of bats fly over the both of you, chaotic and eruptive.

"It's gonna be dark, Ellie."

"I know, I know. I was, uh—saving the best for last." She quips, hopping off of the rock to stand in front of you.

It felt kind of awkward this way, Ellie fully standing while you sat. You had to look straight up to meet her eyes. It put your head in whirl.

"What, the tattoo? I saw that already."

"No. Something else," She grabs your hand and places it on the bottom hem of her top. Your heart beats a little faster.

"Lift up my shirt."

Your eyes widen as your hand fidgets. You wait for her to keep talking. She doesn't.

"Um...like all the way?" You struggle to find words. "Or—"

"Lift up," her hand grasps yours, guiding it up. "my shirt."

Fabric shifts and the pale flesh of her abdomen comes into view. Her belly is lean—all hard edges and dense muscle. What catches your eye is the long, winding, angry scar tracing along her hip.

Your brain goes into overdrive.

Traumatic injury, surgery needed... most likely...flexor or... IT band tendonitis? Maybe, what, Bursitis? Something...invasive—a tear? Labral tear? Iliopsoas tear? What the fuck was she doing?

"Street fighting." She states. "It's my job."

Your face is blank. You shakily stand.

"Uhhh—you, you better be fucking with me, Ellie." You stutter out. Unconsciously, you move to trace your finger along the scar, feeling the warped, healed skin. "I mean this is...this is serious. This is...surgery."

"Don't I fuckin' know it," she moves her shirt back down, covering the scar. "took me out of the ring for like, eight weeks."

"Jesus—Jesus Christ. How long have you been doing this!?"

"Not much longer than you've been in school, really."

"So, not long. Is what you're saying." your fingers rake through your hair. "This is...this is fucking crazy."

"It's not that—"

"Dina's okay with this? Really. I really don't see how she could be okay with this, like, at all." You argue, cutting her off.

"She wasn't. I had to convince her."

"And how often do you go to the doctor? Once a week? Or do you pretend like you know how to patch yourself up?"

Her face slightly reddens.

"I—I learned how to do it myself. I know how."

"Oh sure. Did you google it? I'm sure google will save you from a life threatening injury."

"Ok, most of them are not 'life threatening'—"

"You don't know that! Not certainly, at least! Not certain enough to be safe!" You exclaim, voice full of anger, but mostly, fear.

She places a hand on your shoulder, gripping it tightly. She doesn't talk until you meet her eyes.

"Hey. I am fine. The hip thing was a fluke. Honest. Most of the time nothing fuckin' happens." She assures, her other hand rubbing up and down your arm. You must've looked more upset than you'd realized.

"Ok."

"Just, 'ok'? Are we...good now?" Ellie asks, blue eyes still deeply connected to yours.

"Um...yeah..." You say, partly hesitating. Ellie watches you closely.

"I wanna go with you."

Her face lights up in...shock?, you think, a pleased grin shaping her mouth.

"What—really?"

"If you really want to do...this," you bite your lip. "being there is what would make me feel...better...about it."

"Yeah? That's...I mean, I think that's great," She says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "my own cheerleader."

You step backwards, letting Ellie's hands slide away from your body.

"No, not a cheerleader. A fucking medic. So I'm not sitting home worried about you—dying. I can just be there to help if stuff goes wrong."

"I'm happy either way, princess." She gleams.

As the sun sets, it gets harder to make out the shape of her face. The woods are also quieter, amplifying the subtle sounds of you and Ellie. You wonder about the details of your plan.

"Do I have to pay to get in? How does this...work?"

"No, you're set. Pretty girls get in free—it's a club rule. Y'know, good for business and everything."

You thank the sky for it's darkness, as Ellie is unable to see the rosy hue reaching your cheeks.

"Oh. Okay...good to know."

Ellie steps up, and now familiarly, encloses your hand in hers.

"C'mon. It's too fuckin' dark to stay any longer."

You walk out of the clearing, back into the dense foliage of where you came. Your grip tightens.

"So...have you had girlfriend?" Ellie blurts.

"Um, weird question, but," you look away. "no."

"Just...trying to gauge how good of a lesbian you are. Pretty bad, it seems."

"Oh, fuck off. I've been focusing on...school." You retort, fully knowing how lame it sounds.

If you were being honest, it was just nerves. You didn't have to try for a boyfriend, he basically wouldn't even take 'no' for an answer. But with girls? It was like you froze.

"Hey I'd give you some tips but...I don't think they'd really...apply for you, y'know?"

"No, I don't know. Explain it." You demand.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying think of a way where it makes...sense. And won't make you mad."

"I won't get mad Ellie. Just say it." You encourage, now more curious than anything.

She stops walking and turns to you.

"Well, it's like...the roles. The roles you can have."

"What...roles...?"

She huffs a laugh before continuing, and positions her hand to point to herself.

"I'm the type that flusters the girl. The...fluster-er, right?"

She walks forwards, getting so close that you can smell the scents of the forest soaked up in her clothing.

"And you," She says, her finger poking your collarbone. "...are the girl that...is flustered. It's a...a dynamic, yeah?"

Your skin heats and all you can do is gaze at Ellie, who's completely enthused with this discussion. She stays quiet, watching your face intently, despite it being so dark.

"You're making stuff up again. I don't even—I don't even know why I let you talk." You utter.

"See? You're doing it already! It's the fuckin' dynamic princess—you know I'm never wrong." She gushes, pinching at your checks and making them even redder.

"This so stupid. And don't call me that."

It was like the world stopped. As soon as you said it, you could see Ellie's brain distinctly remembering you, in that whiny drunken voice, begging. You won't ever forget it. And neither will Ellie, for completely different reasons.

You knew exactly what she was going to say, so you try and stop her.

"Don't. I don't care what I did yesterday. Just—don't."

She sighs, clearly dropping it. Thank god. Her teeth bite the inside of her cheek.

"Whatever you say, princess."

You don't even acknowledge it, just rolling your eyes as you walk ahead. Stray branches brush over your legs and thighs, feeling like gentle scratches. You slow a bit, waiting for Ellie to join you.

And hold your hand again.

Stepping ahead of you to lead, Ellie does just that. The warmth makes you smile, and you let it own your face, bright and wide. You didn't care. It was dark enough.

"Alright. Stay close."

"I know, Ellie."

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxviii - hearing

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

Seconds felt like hours, minutes felt like days, and hours felt like weeks.

You sat in front of your laptop with so much anxiety and uncertainty. It had probably been only a couple hours but it fely like forever and it didn't felt good at all. It didn't help that you couldn't sleep much the other day not just because of the damn email looming in your mind but also because of your stupid ankle that decided it wanted to have a big fucking rave with all the pulsing and the heat that caused the area to twitch. So you were anxiety riddled and in pain and to be quite honest, a lot pissed that neither San nor your work friends were answering your text. You wanted to ask about what happened the other day and also if any one of them knew what the email was about but of course you didn't get any answer. It was like being kept in the dark about something major that was affecting everything and everyone.

The email was so sudden and you were worried if it had anything to do with what was happening at High Breed. Who would've guessed that the day you took a day off from dealing with your ankle, some major shit happened to the office and then you suddenly got a hearing from HR. All you could do at that moment was simply to convince yourself that you would be okay and that it was just protocol. Nothing big, nothing to worry about.

As soon as the clock chimed 9, you saw that the Head of HR and the General Manager got into the meeting room with their camera on and San in attendance with his camera off. Your heart beats harshly against your chest in worry, noticing how the meeting was attended by high ranking staffs so there was a chance that the issue at hand that somehow involved you was an absolute big one. But despite your gut screaming that something was wrong, you sucked the anxiety in and just think positive thoughts. Maybe they wanted to tell you that you passed your probation early and the reason it involved high ranking officials are because you worked directly with the CEO's son so they took things seriously.

Here's to wishful thinking.

"Good morning, everybody," you greeted, smiling brightly to mask the nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Unfortunately your greeting was met with silence, not even a single sound of acknowledgement. Chills ran down your spine from dread and embarrassment, the situation just became much much worse just from that exchange and your confidence almost slipped completely away. Luckily, the Head of HR spoke up but in a very uninterested tone, "Good morning ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our disciplinary hearing momentarily," the words she said made your eyebrows furrow in utter confusion, "Excuse me, disciplinary hearing for what exactly?" You cut her off which was completely ignored as she kept rambling on about who was present in the meeting. Next to speak was the General Manager who cleared his throat and tipped his glasses down slightly, "If you had been more patient, miss, we would've explained that we conducted this meeting to inform you that as of today, you are put on a temporary unpaid administrative leave until the issue you have caused be resolved."

If your eyebrows were furrowed before, now they're knitted so tight a sweater had formed. "Whoah, I don't understand, what issue did I cause??" You asked, obviously not knowing what they were talking about. "Okay, we'll bite," the General Manager said which you took notice of and didn't feel great about because the mannerism indicated that they didn't believe you about something. "It has come to our attention that you have been sharing personal information about Mr. Choi San to the media which is a complete breach of your contract as Mr. Choi San's personal assistant," he said. You waved your hands in front of the camera to stop the guy from talking more because the confusion wasn't resolved, it doubled. "Okay, I really don't know what you're talking about because I've never talked to the media before, I never shared my boss's personal information, not even with my friends," after the words left your mouth, you realized how flimsy of an excuse that was and those people could've easily misunderstood you as making up excuses or just simply disregard you. Then again, they could take your explanation masked as a flimsy excuse as suspicious behaviour despite you only telling the truth.

"As crude as it sounds, we do not care about what you talk about with your friends outside the office but this particular action has affected the company negatively especially since it affected Mr. Choi San," then the Head of HR clicked on something from her screen and presented some pictures, "Now, miss, do you recognize these?" Your eyes barely scanned through the file but you immediately took notice of it. "It's my company database account," you answered, still not understanding what their point was. "What about this?" She then showed the next picture and you saw your account information at the top and a bunch of numbers and letters listed under it and next to them are other numbers that look like specific dates. "My account and random numbers? I'm not sure," by now you have a bit of an attitude and it's mostly because of the fact that you had just been accused of something and you didn't appreciate it.

With a raise of his eyebrows, the General Manager leaned forward in his seat and sighed, "This, Miss (y/l/n), is proof that your account has been accessing important data and files from the company database that detailed Mr. Choi's private information including his medical report which if it turns out to be true, is a direct violation of the privacy law and you can be penalized," he stated firmly. "Wait," you tried to interject, wanting a moment to take the revelation in and made sense of the situation. Unfortunately, the General Manager kept going on about what you supposedly did and which files you accessed. Words thrown at you floated in your brain and none of them stuck, you couldn't process the explanation as your brain was trying to remember when and why you opened those files. Sure, some of the files that were on the list you actually accessed yourself but you remembered that it was under the direction of other superior officers. Files like San's most recent medical record that San himself requested to be sent to his family physician, or files like the company's pharmaceutical records that include sales, testing, production dates and locations, issue report, etc. that was sent to you by the lab supervisor for you to compile so San won't have a hard time looking them over. But other things like employee attendance, employee login timestamps and information, company finance report, patents, MFDS clearance, legal reports, and much more files that were under the record list, you couldn't remember ever accessing nor do you even know how and where to access them. Despite the defence bubbling in your head, your were frozen, you couldn't say the words you wanted to say because at that moment, you were being bombarded by two people while San was watching.

Why wasn't he saying anything?

"...That being said and with the evidence stacked against you, the company has decided, as we said earlier, to put you in unpaid administrative leave until the issue is resolved," the Head of HR said. As it seemed like they were about to conclude the meeting, your body reacted as quickly as it could and you called out to them. "Hey, wait!" thankfully, it seemed like it managed to catch their attention momentarily, "Don't I get to defend myself first? This is a lot to take in and you can't just make a decision for yourselves," it was hard for you to keep your voice stable because all you want to do was scream at them for accusing you of doing something so ridiculous but you knew full well that if you let your emotions get the best of you, they wouldn't take you seriously. The General Manager sighed before answering you, "Yes, in a less dire situation, we would've let you defend yourself, but as this issue has become public and seemingly uncontrollable, we have to take immediate action to prevent further issues from arising." To make matters worse, the Head of HR just HAD to comment in her faux low voice that you were pretty sure she wanted you to hear. "You should have thought of that before doing something so reckless," and before you could've said something, she called out to San, "Is there anything you wish to add, Mr. Choi?"

Almost embarrassingly quickly, your eyes flit to San's account and you saw him opening his mic. Seconds pass awfully slow as you waited, hoping for him to defend you, telling both people who seemingly had it against you that the company shouldn't be rash, that they should take a moment to assess the situation better before putting you on leave and treating you like a criminal. You believed that he would come to your aid because he knew you wouldn't have done that to him. After all, you have been covering for his ass and you have done nothing but a good job in the office as his assistant. Not to mention the fact that you let him fuck you whenever he wants which shouldn't be the main reason but it kinda felt like it should. So why would he assume that you even wanted to hurt him?

But all hopes you had were lost when your screen suddenly returned to your browser, showing that the meeting has ended without any more addition. Without San saying anything to defend you.

"He... Ended the meeting..." you muttered to yourself in disbelief. He didn't even say anything, he didn't even have the decency to say something to you, something comforting or just something that acknowledge the fact that you were in that situation and it was such a shit situation. He just dismissed you like that.

Your chest tightened and your hands shook. Emotions mix together, emotions you can't even discern, and emotions you've never felt before.

Standing up from your desk, the first thing you thought of was to get a glass of water to calm yourself down. Your injured ankle forced you to limp to the kitchen and you suddenly chuckle to yourself, thinking about how ridiculous your luck was for giving you an injury and putting you in such a difficult and absurd situation. You try to make sense of things but at the same time you didn't want to think about it just yet, you didn't want to have to deal with the issue as quickly but how could you not when it affects you greatly? Does this mean you can't go to work for the foreseeable future? Does this mean you're replaced? You accepted the job in the first place because you wanted something to do and now you were being denied of your own decision. With this happening, do you want to stay? Can you stay? You're willing to be everyone else knows about this issue so it's safe to assume that even if you did come back to work, say you were proven not guilty which was the truth in the first place, you will be a pariah. Those who knew about the details and believed that you were the kind of human being who would do such a thing would not treat you nicely. And apparently, one of those people is the boss who you've been fucking. Working for him would be different after this issue no matter the truth. It was too much for you to handle alone and you didn't want to have to handle it alone. But what could you have done? Contact your friends just because you're in a shit position? Is that how you want to treat your friends?

The water you poured for yourself felt heavy like lead down your throat and your body couldn't help but want to expel it. You coughed and coughed the liquid out and while doing so, you accidentally knocked your glass over and it shattered. In between fits of coughs and blurry vision, you saw the mess you just made and suddenly the pain in your chest doubled.

What are you going to do now?

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[rarepairnation]

augh this is driving me truly crazyinsane. i think he has always known that his story would end in tragedy. he is a numenorean lord who has dared to vie directly with the enemy. and separately, she knows the same. she is a princess with elvish blood named finduilas who marries a tragic hero. they can each, individually, only delay their own fate. fighting the long defeat. but i think finduilas is very clear of both of their endings, but denethor is not. he knows his own end, but never anticipates hers. perhaps before her he always thought he would be facing that end alone, and dares to think that perhaps he has been granted one single great blessing, that she will stand by his side to the end (because she would have, if she could have, and he always knows that). he thinks that perhaps for once in his life he will be able to have both love and duty in his hand. she is his political partner and the love of his life and both of these are true. and then all of it gets torn away. yeah youve said what i have to say about his grief i am personally going to go to the desert and let the scarabs take me.

#what if DENETHOR dreamt of finduilas dying. i mean i’d rather he didn’t bc THEN there would be a lot of potential for angst and his self#destructive behaviour. what if denethor DIDN’T FORESEE HER DEATH. BUT WISHED THAT HE DID.#GOD. HIM WONDERING IF HE COULD HAVE SAVED HER. DONE SOMETHING SOONER TO PREVENT HER HEALTH FROM DETERIORATING#but no. nothing he could have done would have changed what happened. THAT’S WHY it’s a tragedy. but *he* doesn’t know that (op's tags) truly you cannot leave this one in the tags it is eating my brain. if he doesn't foresee her death and feels like his mind, his strongest best asset, has betrayed him and betrayed her and if only he had known he would have saved her. now i like to play really fast and loose with the specifics of everyone's powers because it is fun for me but i think canonically denethor leans more towards the mindreading realm rather than the prophetic dreams. so, ok really Get Ready for this one, what if. if he doesn't have foresight at all, but faramir does, and GOD does he resent him for it. i would have used the power better i would have known her fate i would have saved her, is what he thinks; you do not deserve to have it. and it's one more brick in the wall of resentment they build up between each other and if she had lived to see it it would've broken her heart and that! does not help!

and the worst part about it is that in a kinder world it doesn't actually matter. foresight or no, he knows he couldn't have saved her. but i think there's a part of him that is simply not emotionally intelligent enough to know that she never would have wanted her death to ruin him. she was always the one who kept him out of the worst of his moods, who drew him out of the despair, and without her he has kind of. no clue how to regulate that. it becomes less of managing it and more of simply getting up each day and continuing on just because he has to. it is the war, and nothing else.

there is, however, one thing he will never ever do and it is resent her for leaving him. because he knows everything about her because she is a better version of him and she is his perfect partner and she is one he would raise to the black seat in his place if he ever needed to. and he knows she would make every sacrifice for gondor. just like he would. (she has already made a massive sacrifice, leaving dol amroth behind, but she does it both for duty and for love and that is a thing he very much understands. what he does not know and will never know is that she knew it would kill her. and perhaps...she even knew it would kill him, too. and yet she did it anyway. maybe we will be letting finduilas make one (1) bad choice tonight).

god. anyway. you're so right it makes it so much more tragic, the way they understood each other, and how he loses a lot of his ability to understand himself once she's gone. the sacrifices they are both willing to make And what they will cost the other. when love is never going to be enough to save anyone but it still matters. even though it is a part of the fall, even though it is a part of the doom and the despair, there is never regret. he has never feared death but after she's gone any vestige of fear leaves him forever. she has already walked that path and when his time comes he need only hold out his hand, and she will be there to take it. all he has to do until then is hold on, and fight until he no longer can. after her he knows he will never be able to save anything or anyone he has ever loved. he does not expect it to be love, in the end, that breaks him.

denethor is said to have been greatly affected by finduilas’ death, right. and i know their marriage was a political one but i like to believe that they still loved each other. not in the ‘traditional sense’ i guess but they loved each other’s spirits, their souls. the duty (as they viewed it) to protect their people & the willpower to do it, they both shared. and so i think that more precious than love, they understood each other perfectly. as no one else could, or did. i can’t stop thinking about denethor’s grief at losing her. to love someone, and to have them understand you, but to lose them so abruptly… no wonder denethor became embittered by her death. i think he became sad too. closed-off. built even more walls around him, not wanting to be seen as vulnerable by anyone. but his anger, at what (or whom), exactly? he already broke up with god when he was young. at the universe? at his fate? to have lost her so unfairly.

i came here to talk about their love & somewhere in the middle lost myself in his grief lol. never mind, bc what is grief if not love persevering????? they loved each other. i can’t. i CAN’T get over this simple truth. the love was there. it wouldn’t have been this tragic if there’s wasn’t. the love was there. and isn’t that enough (it isn’t. but it is. IT IS). the love was there. THE LOVE WAS. THERE. sobbing. truly sobbing DON’T TOUCH ME

[two-white-butterflies]

his real ambition | king viserys x reader 

Description: Being a matriarch to a family was has hard, watching the love of your life marry someone else is harder. requested by @tremendouscoffeeprincess

A/N: I know that you requested the reader to be his mistress but that breaks my heart :((

The men in your life were weak — they were all sheep. Being the lady of your house was hard work, especially when there was a realm of men plotting against your demise. King Viserys stays by your side however — a constant, a light that guides you through the maze.

But he was a fool — and everyone played him like a fiddle. Perhaps that was the reason you were so enamored by him, there was something about his naivety that allowed you to become a much more stronger woman.

He wasn't married when you loved him. He was still a young lord reigning over the shadow of his cousin; Princess Rhaenys. But after his marriage to Aemma, the rift between both of you supermounted to the highest degree.

You'd bump shoulders in some days, and act like the other didn't exist in the other. It was a charade — a stupid circus that wasn't going to burn down soon. After Aemma died, it felt like a door was opened — and you had your chance once again.

That was until he announced his engagement to Lady Alicent of Hightower — and then you realized that he was truly a fiddle. A dumb twat who could easily be manipulated.

You slam the door loudly as he takes a step back. "Lady Y/N? Is everything alright?" he questions intuitively as you roll your eyes in shock. "You're marrying Lady Alicent?" you exasperate as he nods in return.

Alicent was a delicate flower — a beautiful submissive woman, who'd be perfect for Viserys if he weren't submissive himself. Their marriage would turn the entire court into a puppet show.

"Yes, have you come to give your blessings?" he taunts as he stands up from his seat. You cross your hands in disbelief, "Blessings? Have you gone dumb?" you beseeched as his frown deepens.

There was no way in hell, you were going to give them your blessing. You had love for his daughter, Princess Rhaenyra — allowing Lady Alicent to marry The King, meant killing Nyra (even if it wasn't said directly.)

"Pardon me?" he excuses as you bite your lip. He's a stupid idiot, a sheep, I shouldn't have loved him.

"And what of me? I've waited like a martyr—" your voice gets cut off. "Waiting for the death of my wife?" he exclaims as he treads towards you. He loved Aemma, and you knew that — perhaps even more than he loved you.

After all, that woman gave her a child. "Isn't that what we always agreed upon?" you spat as he sighs loudly. Alicent was his love, and you his lust. There was a clear barrier between the both.

"We never agreed upon anything," he clears up as you chuckle once more. He was an asshole, not a real dragon. "Then why have you disagreed upon every marriage proposal given to me? It's foolish enough that you've had me wishing —"

"Wishing? Apologies, but I assumed that you were the one who wanted not to marry." he apologizes as he waved his arm around. You scoff, now he's acting like I'm the one at wrong.

You loved the man inside of Viserys, even if he was cruel. "Then what about me?" you imply as he freezes slightly. In the midst of all the celebrations, he's forgotten about the woman who loved him first.

He sits down, and takes a deep breath. "Lady Y/N, you are a wonderful woman. And perhaps I would've married you — if I was any other man." he trailed off as you took a step towards him. White pools of water now filling your eyes as he clears his throat.

"But I must think of my duties first. Marrying Lady Alicent would benefit the realm" he reasons as you bite your lip. Another load of his lies. "Then love me still." you reply as you kneeled beneath his sitting form. "Love you how?" he questions as he places a hand on your face.

"Love me in ways we've always had"

[lfc-fanfiction]

Darwin Núñez- Taken off after a goal.

It was the 22nd minute of the match, after a tidy cross from Kostas your boyfriend Darwin had headed it firmly past the hands of Fabiański and into the back of the net. Anfield erupted- his first home goal. A massive smile spread across your face as Darwin blew a kiss in your direction- a charmer as usual.

The rest of the first half blew by, Darwin searching for his brace and getting so close to it. You knew that it would come in the second half. At around the 60 minute mark substitutions were coming on. To everyone's shock Darwin would come off- after looking so hungry and passionate to score more. Without him in the second half, you were left to wonder if maybe this game would end up drawn or even lost- with the defence shaky and no clear-cut scoring opportunities. But as per usual Ali was a brick wall between the posts and the lead was kept.

When Darwin came home you were quick to greet him with a hug, "How's my favourite goal scorer?" you softly said into his ear. He nodded in reply- even though it would never make sense in this context. "Mi amor, what's on your mind?" you asked noticing something was wrong. He pulled away from the hug and looked you directly in the eye, "What did I do wrong?" The question struck you- he hadn't done anything wrong. "What do you mean? You haven't done anything wrong bonito."

He shook his head as he begun to unlace his shoes, "Then how come el jefe took me off after the goal?" You sighed, "Don't be ridiculous, Jurgen only took you off to give you a rest and to make sure you were ok to play for the Forest game. You were brilliant today." Darwin shrugged off your comment and laid on the sofa inviting you back into his arms. For the next few minutes you stayed like that- feeling him lightly play with your hair, "You know I wish we could stay like this forever, Darwin."

"Why couldn't we?" he said after a few moments. "I don't think Jurgen would be best pleased with you." You laughed internally at how Jurgen may react if he found out Darwin was too busy cuddled up to you to come to training. "I doubt he is best pleased with me anyway, maybe I would've been better staying at Benfica." You turn slightly to look at him, taking in his solemn and serious bearing. "Don't you ever say that again, Amor. We both know you don't mean it." "I do mean it, I'm not good enough to play here." When you look into his eyes this time they appear glossy- and you can tell he does mean it.

"Listen up man bun, you're here now so you may as well take your best shot at it. See if you can say that again to me in a few months time." Darwin weakly smiles at you before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, "You're right as usual but don't you call me man bun again, woman bun." He says wagging his finger at you before re-wrapping his strong arms around you.

~536 Words~

Requested by @liverpool-is-life

[ttuesday]

Hi there! It's not tuesday, but nevertheless is a good day to wish you the best in life, op! uwu

The trope enemies-to-lovers if one of my faves. This is an idea I saw on tiktok.

Character: *trying to be a smug little shit to tease reader* Oh, you wanna fuck me sooo bad it makes you look stupid.

Reader: *matching their asshole energy to not give them the satisfaction* If I wanted to fuck you I would've done it by now.

Can I please have some HC on the VLD boys reactions after being told this by their enemy they are so obviously crushing on?

Arthur

Arthur was tipsy. He had a few drinks before bumping into you so he was feeling more confident than usual. He puffs out his chest as he says it, feeling uncharacteristically smug.

But my god, the second you snapped back that quick witted response, all that smugness disappeared in an instance. It was kinda like a metaphorical slap in the face that Arthur needed to stop trying to be a smug bastard.

"Right..." he said clearing his throat, suddenly feeling very awkward "well then I guess I'll be on my way". Honestly, he feels a little embarrassed that he said it and regrets it considering he now believes you have zero interest in him. But if you asked, then Arthur would be more than happy to buy you a drink to make up for it.

Dutch

Dutch had thought about this many, many times. This whole back and forth thing you both have going on, constantly insulting each other and trying to one up the other. Oh yeah, Dutch sees all of that as some good ol' foreplay.

It was during a heated fight between the two of you when he finally decides to say it. He was so confident it was going to turn you in a blushing, flustered mess. He couldn't stop smirking after he says it.

But his face drops when you say your response. He wants you a lot more now but he knows that nothing is going to happen now. "Touche" he replies, squinting his eyes slightly. He knows you’ll fall for his charms some day but until then he’ll keep muttering curse words whenever he sees you.

Micah

Micah loves how good you are with comebacks. You don't take any bullshit and you're incredibly badass, and luckily for you both of these things are big turn on’s for him. When Micah said this, his plan was to see how you’d react to the idea of y'all fucking.

And your response? Damn, is it getting hot in here? After hearing your response now he's just horny. If anything, your reply has reinforced his attraction to you.

"How's about you give me the chance to change your mind, hm?" he smirks. Micah would love the chance to tell you 'I told you so' especially when it comes to the possibility of you wanting him too.

John

John was having a bad day so he wasn't in the best of moods when he ran into you. Normally he tries to be somewhat civil around you but today he didn't care anymore. When he said it, John tried to say it in the most teasing tone he could muster.

John expected you to come back with a quick witted response. If he was going to be honest with himself, your sharp replies is one of the many triats he finds so hot about you.

Surprisingly John smiles when you say your response and shakes his head slightly. "Sure, whatever you say" you can tell he doesn't believe you but you can't tell if he's saying it to get under your skin or because he genuinely thinks you're lying.

Javier

Javier had just messed up a robbery when he saw you. He was pissed off and once he spotted you, he was just waiting for you to make some snarky comment and so he decided he'd make a remark before you could. Javier knew he was being kinda petty but he didn’t care.

Though he'd never admit it to you, he was actually impressed with your response. If he overheard you saying that to someone else he probably would've laughed and thought it was really funny but since you were saying this to him, Javier didn't see the funny side of it.

Javier does love some angsty back and forth so he doesn't back down. Lowering his voice and gazing directly into your eyes, he says "We both know that's a lie, I've seen how you look at me".

Bill

Bill was drinking his sorrows away at the local saloon when you walked in and made his day a whole lot worse. You annoy Bill so goddamn much. Sometimes he'll even go on rants by the campfire late at night about how much you irk him but this has only led to the others teasing him about you.

He hates how the others could pick up that he has a crush on you and that's another reason why you annoy him. Bill just blurts it out, not fully thinking through the sentence before he says it out loud.

Bill creases his brow once you retort back your answer. "Well you... I, uh..." Bill's brain goes blank when he tries to think of something else to say. "Shit" he mutters, chugging the rest of his drink.

Sean

Sean was actually very proud of his quick witted comment. In his head, Sean was thinking 'oh yeah, this'll get 'em all flustered'. Christ, he was so goddamn cocky saying this.

He also really hoped you'd admit to being madly in love with him if he said this and then you'd both start ripping each other's clothes off and make some sweet sweet love... Sean has thought about this a lot.

But when you reply, Sean’s in shock and honestly he was trying his best not to pout. "What's that supposed to mean? You really don't find me attractive?" he's gobsmacked "Are you sure? Maybe it's the lighting in here”.

[ming-sik]

so two things about the lestilaut/ferdinand comparison, i'm not sure i buy that argument. oswald says that while he's insulting rozemyne in order to convince wilfried that she needs to step down in order to prop him up-- something which ultimately gets him fired and which is never treated seriously by any sympathetic characters. i don't think that's very compelling evidence in lestilaut's favor, so i would argue that the narrative is on rozemyne's side unless we're also going to argue that the narrative thinks damuel shouldn't have stepped in when she was being attacked by shikza because, i mean, shikza said it. her saying that it was crazy that ehrenfest was allowed to be in charge of the shumils for so long is general enough i don't think it implies anything one way or the other.

to be clear that's not really the problem, lestilaut was in the wrong there which is why i said his plan was stupid, although i'd also point out that lestilaut's plan is stupid, but its consequences wouldn't kill anyone and hannelore almost certainly would've taken over once they realized she couldn't touch the shumils otherwise. i also don't have a problem with rozemyne being way more lenient on ferdinand than lestilaut, but i would argue that the narrative's with him on this one.

it's my fault for not being clear here, i'm not referring to the literal act of conquering ahrensbach, i'm referring to ferdinand's saying that when he goes to ahrensbach he's going to conquer it from the inside out. you could definitely argue that he's putting on a brave face to comfort her but this is at a point where they don't know that georgine is planning to sink both duchies at once and detlinde herself hasn't committed treason. so at this point that would be a massive escalation that would turn the large problem of "the first wife of ahrensbach is our enemy" to a country-wide problem of "hey why did ehrenfest, the duchy already being suspected of treason which is why ferdinand is being sent to ahrensbach, just conquer ahrensbach? we should eliminate them before they gain more power". given that it is possible that he was bluffing to comfort her, i would've been completely happy with idk karstedt whacking him with a harisen and telling him that's a very bad idea and ferdinand replying that he wasn't being serious. instead him essentially saying he's actually going to commit treason is left unchallenged. i don't need a character to turn directly to me and say "it's weird that ferdinand interpreting rozemyne's desire for fish as a genuine desire to declare war is treated as romantic when lestilaut doing essentially the same thing because he wants to make his sister happy is rightfully treated as stupid", it's more of a general complaint that we never really see ferdinand get criticized for being wrong. in fact he gets exonerated because it conveniently turns out that detlinde commits treason and also georgine was planning to declare war on the entire country anyway so them conquering ahrensbach just kinda happens and he actually turns out to be even more correct and smart.

re: wilfried, i've said before that i think wilfried shouldn't be aub and in fact i'm in favor of him going to the temple but i also think that not being suited to be aub isn't like a moral failing. wilfried's initial problem is his environment and the main reason he never really gets better is that 1) he's still being influenced by his retainers who are mostly from the former veronica faction, because he's not savvy enough to realize they're manipulating him, and 2) he just generally lacks that social acumen to match the level of social intelligence required of a yurgenschmidt noble. to which i say: so what? my problem here is that this standard by yurgenschmidt's society represents a societal issue that i kinda wish wasn't eventually just treated as totally fine because rozemyne was personally able to meet that standard and sylvester lacks the character development to move beyond insisting that wilfried needs to be the aub. the fact that ferdinand is in line with yurgenschmidt noble society in thinking that 6 year old wilfried should've been condemned to the ivory tower is what i'm talking about, here, i wish this kind of thing wasn't brushed aside with "ah it's a shame ferdinand's such a jerk even though he's so talented" instead of being the basis of either some kind of character or narrative arc beyond him being nicer to rozemyne and rozemyne alone because he likes her.

My dear good comrade in the trenches against AoB's nonsense: I'm having Ferdinand thoughts (derogatory, mostly) and stewing. You said you thought Ferdinand's boring, if you would be up for it we could complain to hell and back about him T_T (aka, I remembered someone saying “Lestilaut's bad and he doesn't even have [Ferdinand's] trauma excuse!” as if... trauma... is an excuse for... anything... also did we forget the system was inherently abusive and traumatizing orrrrrrr)

i'm always up to complain about ferdinand. i swear i tried to like aob's golden boy but he just... is bad.

like ok my main problem with him is honestly just that by being the most perfectest bestest coolest guy ever he makes the story so fuuuuuuucking boring. there are so many potential conflicts especially from part 4 onward that just get completely ironed over with "ferdinand took care of it offscreen" or "literally as soon as the problem was introduced ferdinand already had the solution", half of the remaining conflicts are just getting ferdinand to stop being an asshole long enough to easily solve the conflict, and half of the conflicts left over after that are how to stop ferdinand from being so incredibly selfless that he burns himself out solving all the story's problems before they can go anywhere interesting. it'd be one thing if he existed in a story that wasn't trying to be serious or if he was used very sparingly as a hermit whose help was difficult to acquire or came at a high price, but as it is i can't even bring myself to get that invested in new conflicts because aob's world has been mostly converted into a playground for rozemyne and ferdinand to flex their enormous brainpower over because obviously the only thing more interesting than one ridiculously overpowered protagonist whose only flaw is being too self-sacrificing is two of the damn things.

to which the counterargument is obviously "noooooo ferdinand isn't a perfect angel, he's deeply flawed!" and yeah he is, but not in a way the narrative is at all interested in doing anything but glorifying. i love it when characters are deeply flawed unpleasant assholes, but only if 1) that's taken in an interesting direction and 2) the story doesn't lie to my face and pretend everyone loves them. YS's society is systematically and inherently abusive, which means that every noble we meet is dealing with an intense web of motivations and pressures that mean being a "good" person in yurgenschmidt's nobility is basically impossible, but ideally that's a way to set up interesting tragic characters, not a reason i'm supposed to excuse ferdinand(and only ferdinand) from judgment for perpetuating that abuse and call for the execution of anyone who thinks he's an asshole.

and the counterargument to that is "oh it's not the narrative that thinks ferdinand is perfect, it's rozemyne!" but that's objectively wrong. the entire plot point of ferdinand's marriage to detlinde is when the story just spends basically an entire volume repeatedly telling the audience that ferdinand is actually the only reason anything gets done in ehrenfest ever and he's the most wonderfulest person ever and everyone is overcome with grief that their savior is gone. even sylvester's habit of pushing off work seems to exist basically entirely so we can have the literal archduke be hugely reliant on ferdinand for day-to-day work just so he can get a little extra credit.

that's not to say that he and rozemyne aren't massively codependent. they are. and again i understand that ferdinand doesn't intentionally put rozemyne in a position where he's literally the only person she can fully trust and she's both completely reliant on him for guidance and terrified of losing him, he does do that. he claims he wants her to rely on wilfried but outside of trying to train him to be more competent(unsuccessfully) he doesn't actually do anything to achieve that, and he never thinks of the perhaps more sustainable option of trying to get her an actual support network. a lot of the tragedy of her losing her life in the lower city is that originally she had a wide group of people to trust: she had her family for comfort, benno for guidance, and lutz as a peer who also knew the full story of her reincarnation. afterwards, she only has ferdinand, and the paranoia he teaches her prevents her from trying to find anyone else, to the point that she only realizes that elvira knows about her commoner origins when he's leaving! and. again. i get so hard that this is an understandable result of ferdinand's trauma making him extremely insular, it's in character, but it's also really, really something that i want the story to, at some point, actually interrogate, but it doesn't! even when ferdinand is totally for real ripped away during the marriage plotline, he actually isn't because they stay in contact the entire time and then she has an excuse to come rescue him and post-battle he's literally just back on the team and it's like he never left so that ended up having the same emotional impact as if he just moved to the next town over. so he never really "leaves", and rozemyne never has to actually get used to life without ferdinand, which would've been really interesting and a way to actually deliver on the ticking time bomb that is grooming subplots.

which he is! and to be clear, he's a groomer in the general sense, not even specifically the pedophilic sense(although yknow. he is explicitly pro-child marriage), i mean that he grooms her to accept that the way yurgenschmidt's society works is normal and fine. he's not solely responsible for the inherent abuse of feudalism, but he's a product of the system he lives in and a product that's not particularly interested in changing that system, so he views myne primarily as an aberration who needs to be incorporated into yurgenschmidt's nobility and made to understand that things work the way they do because this is the best system. i think people rail against ferdinand being called a groomer for two main reasons-- firstly people think that if you say a character is immoral you're saying that they're a bad person for liking them or finding them interesting, and secondly people not understanding that grooming isn't as simple as mustache-twirling villain evilly and intentionally completely controlling a helpless child. bc yeah rozemyne struggles against ferdinand's attempts to fit her into noble society and at multiple points does the opposite of what he tells her to, but that doesn't disprove my argument! it's actually repeatedly acknowledged(well, joked about) where characters including rozemyne and ferdinand themselves say that ferdinand has made her more and more similar to him. like basically the first thing that happens when he gets her into noble society is him convincing her to start participating in the buying and selling of orphans and speaking of orphans do not get me started on the temple it drives me so insane how her turning it into a company town where they serve as her unpaid labor is presented as her being a saint. that can't totally be blamed on ferdinand but he sure does talk her into accepting that the only way she can interact with lower status people is through the lens of a benevolent master. one of the main facets of their relationship is him making her worse.

which is interesting! conceptually! ferdinand is entirely a product of the cycle of abuse and his reaction to his trauma is to preserve that cycle even as it continues to harm him and everyone around him because it's just the way things are. on that topic, he's completely bought into yurgenschmidt's view of children where 5-year-olds are expected to be capable of fending off psychological warfare and 15-year-olds are expected to be fully mature adults, so he has a vitriolic, burning hatred for wilfried age 6 and later detlinde age 15 despite both of their biggest crimes being not magically overcoming the fact that they're being neglected and abused, because he did, which means it is possible and therefore required. even his favorite oops all negative reinforcement education is irl infamous for being literally the worst possible way to educate children because it doesn't work very well and also traumatizes them, something which rozemyne herself seems to understand when she tries to keep ferdinand from being so harsh on letizia but never ends up interrogating because she can keep up with it. just kind of because? the implication is that she has a big headstart from her being an adult university student in japan but we actually don't see him do much instructing outside of giving his pupils a bunch of stuff to memorize and then getting really mad if they don't do it fast enough, which is... not the most effective strategy, wouldn't help with her memorizing new information, and also requires her to show a level of attentiveness and reading comprehension she never actually shows when she's onscreen doing stuff because when she's onscreen she lacks basic reading comprehension and stops paying attention to literally anything she's not interested in, but all of that's just ignored because the whole reason ferdinand cares about rozemyne is that she's the only one who understands that he's just trying to do the right thing and she's the only one who can keep up with him in this world of idiot sheeple. and i don't like that either i think it's pretty boring.

the specific combination of his plot purpose mainly being to instantly solve problems and his actual character just kind of being an insufferable asshole who won't shut up about how awesome child abuse is means that unfortunately every time the male lead of the series is onscreen i'm booing and throwing tomatoes at the page because he isn't interesting enough to pull off being morally grey or fun enough to pull off being a terrible little freak. and i really do not feel sorry for him because everyone in the story is experience similar levels of abuse but mysteriously the story can recognize that it's bad when literally anyone else treats any character the way ferdinand treats everyone all the time.

the lestilaut comparison is so specifically dumb oh my god. like yeah he has the trauma excuse.... everyone does... if we take dunkelfelger seriously lestilaut was raised in an environment where his worth was entirely placed on how physically strong he is and the only solution to any problem is physical force, so that's the only way he can think of to solve problems. his main character flaws are being kind of a jerk in a way that's very normal for a teenager! like his character introduction is revealed to be him misinterpreting hannelore's desire to hang out with the cute shumils as a need to have them at any cost which combines with the existing prejudices he's been taught(yknow the excuse that works for ferdinand and nobody else) to mean that he executes a stupid plan, and then even the bride-stealing ditter plot which is... not his finest moment, definitely, but is him trying to save rozemyne from what he thinks is severe abuse. which isn't an excuse for his actions, like i said with sylvester you kind of lose the right to appeal to good intentions if your mistakes have a body count, but you could make the exact same criticism of ferdinand. i mean his "i'll get ahrensbach for you" bit is basically just the shumils thing but it's treated as romantic instead of "what the hell are you doing"

tbh in the AU i'm working on i just toss him out the window entirely but if he IS going to stick around he neeeeeeeeds to have his untouchability be dialed way the fuck down. he can't just solve literally every story problem with "and then ferdinand pulled the solution out of his ass" and there need to be things that he is actively bad at which other characters are good at. also other characters NEED to be able to criticize him for things other than being too self-sacrificing or limply saying that even though he's the most skilled wonderful guy ever it's a shame he's such a jerk. instead of having people being worried about how dependent rozemyne is on ferdinand be played for cheap jokes about her being in love with him you could idk have it GO SOMEWHERE because if ferdinand isn't totally perfect then you could have that relationship actually negatively affect her in some sort of way that could perhaps cause a narrative conflict, and there should be sympathetic characters who actively dislike him for reasons other than not being able to keep up with his amazingness. like florencia just thinks he's a massive piece of shit because he tried to get her 6 year old son condemned to the ivory tower, or lutz thinks ferdinand is wrecking the myne he knows and loves in order to fit her into noble society, or charlotte and wilfried just end up hating him after he tries teaching them because he's an abusive jerk. i don't even wanna give him a redemption arc because i don't want rozemyne to need to "fix" him and idk who else it would be outside of maybe sylvester? if i was gonna try and not fundamentally change the structure of aob i genuinely think i would just move detlinde's assassination attempt to basically as soon as he gets settled in ahrensbach and also have it succeed. just fucking kill him! make rozemyne navigate the world without him! it also killing off justus and eckhart could even make it so they're also invading ahrensbach without knowing anything about lanzenave so the silver cloth and instant-death poison can actually matter.

[mommybard]

This is gonna sound so chaotic and so confusing and I just need someone to listen. So I’ve been interested in this guy for a long time. Years. And right before the pandemic hit, we finally talked for real rather in passing (it took me a while bc I’m really shy and so is he) and I thought we hit it off. We chatted, we laughed, and the way he looked at me… I’ll never forget it. It was the way I looked at him. And from that point on, I had so much hope. I carried that hope through the entirety of the pandemic and due to circumstances, didn’t see him for over a year. We never exchanged numbers or anything so we’re kinda back to square one given the time that’s passed. I’ve gotten to befriend some of his friends and I thought FINALLY this is gonna come to fruition…. But now, I’m not certain he’s interested in me… or women at all. This summer I’ve been unable to see him and I stayed hopeful, until I noticed his social media. He’s been mass following men. All very young men who fit a particular type. Ages 18-22, very small men, athletic. And he’s been spamming their accounts with likes, mostly of their sexy photos. He’s been doing this to openly gay men as well as straight men… and some idk their sexuality. But now, after all this time of hearing that he went out with women and did hook ups but didn’t want anything serious…. then we talked and everything seemed so perfect… and now that I’m closer than ever to getting to be around him more often and in an atmosphere where I can really get to know him…. I’m not sure he’s even into women anymore. After years of believing he was and knowing he went out with women… Years of wishing he’d feel something for me. Idk what to do. I can’t ask him about his sexuality of course. And I’m scared to confide in a mutual friend out of fear of outting him if he is in fact gay or bi or pan. It’s driving me insane. And I feel like an idiot for actually believing the man of my dreams liked *me*. I’m spiritual in the sense of I believe in signs and everything. And I’ve gotten signs for so long that made me feel it was gonna work out. And even now, I asked the world whether I should move on or not and suddenly, everywhere I look is something saying “don’t give up! don’t lose hope!”. I’m so confused. I like him so much and I’ve liked him for so long. Idk what to do.

So, I'm gonna need you to take a few steps back and breathe hun. I'm...mixed on this. I've written a few answers but deleted and restarted a few times now. So, I'll try to be clear and give you the best advice I can. I'm a bit worried for a few things you said at the start of this. That you've just had conversations in passing with this guy but have been pining after him for years now. This makes me worried if you're more attracted to the idea of him, like an idealized version of what he might be like that you've built up from the conversations in passing, rumors, and social media, instead of who he is. But, the best way to find out what he really is like is getting to know him, which it sounds like you've attempted in the pre-pandemic conversation. If you're not close enough to have exchanged numbers or contact info, I probably wouldn't suggest asking him directly what his orientation is. You could be the nicest person in the world, but I know that at certain parts of my life if someone I wasn't close to had asked me that I would've straight up lied to them to avoid any messy conversations. Just kind of how it is. So, with that out of the way, my best advice to you is to ask him on a date. Yes, I know, this sounds like an extreme option and can seem like a terrifying way to go about it. But, it's the best way to find out. If he says yes, then great! You know that he feels something to, and wants to explore it. You have the date you've been wanting for a while. If he says no, for whatever reason, then it's gonna hurt a bit, not gonna lie. Unrequited affection can sting. It happens, and it sucks, but its something the person feeling that way has to handle themselves. If he's still a cool person, hey you might not've gotten a partner out of it, but he might be a chill friend, and that's always an awesome thing to have! The longer you wait though, the more that anxiety is going to build, and the worse that pining is going to feel. So go on, ask him out, and find out if you've got a potential date or just a potential new friend. And please don't check out his socials unless its to check for red flags, it's just gonna lead to you getting in your own head hun <3

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 4

Previous chapter links:

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER FOUR

The cab ride towards the White Wolf was much faster and louder than you anticipated. The cab driver's blaring music from the radio was so loud it felt like you were inside a rave. You and Bucky had to yell over the music for you to talk about what has been happening in your lives for the past few months. You couldn't summarize everything in a five-minute cab ride. So far, these were just some milestones you both gathered (well, more of his): while Bucky was in different parts of the world (Greece, Macau, Amsterdam, Monaco, Aruba) managing interrelation business and hosting nightly parties and whatnots, you were just in New York tending to drunkards (and that includes Peter sometimes) and taking photos of whatever products that come your way.

At that moment, you saw your life pass by in black and white, while Bucky's in color -- just a parade of rainbows trailing behind him wherever he goes.

Yet he still found the things you did interesting.

You wondered what the word interesting meant to him. Of course, you didn't bother asking him that. Perhaps he just felt sorry and wanted to make you feel good.

The moment you got out of the cab, you guys took a deep breath, thankful that that awful ride was over. The music floated away as the cab sped up in the streets.

"What a dick." Bucky commented, watching the cab race through the streets. Any more speed, the cab would've flown in the air.

"I know." You snorted. "God, that was an awful ride. I felt like I was at a frat party."

"Funny. You don't look like someone who would go to one." He joked.

"I went once." You defended. "With Parker."

Bucky raised his eyebrows at you and stared.  Blue eyes piercing right through you in disbelief. "Okay." You sighed. "I picked his drunk ass up at that party. But I really have been to a party with Parker." You left out that detail of you and Peter making out at that party. That was just between you and Peter and you wouldn't want to include his stepbrother in it. Or perhaps Bucky knew about it. You did just found out they talk to each other almost every night. But as you told Bucky about that party, you received no reaction whatsoever which meant he knew nothing. You felt good about that.

You and Bucky stood in front of the White Wolf, trying to shake out the ringing in your ears. Stupid cab ride. Why you couldn't just walk here was because of Bucky. Apparently, he was still a bit hungover. You wondered what would take him to get fully sober.

You stared at the wolf headstone once more, admiring it for the second time today.

"I commissioned an artist for that." Bucky spoke, poking his finger on his right ear. "Just found him on the subway one day. He was selling some sculptures he's made. Asked him if he could make me one and ta-da!"

"It is beautiful."

"I have others he has made inside." With this, Bucky started to walk towards the inside of his hotel.

The uniformed man greeted you on the steps. You sent him a knowing smile once his eyes landed on yours. He smiled back as you introduced yourselves to each other.

"Is she still in my room?" Bucky asked the uniformed man who you now know goes by the name Leonard.

"Yes, sir." He replied. "She said she'd -- "

"I know what she said." Bucky groaned, remembering what you'd told him earlier. "I'll call you from up there if anything goes wrong, okay Leonard?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be on alert."

You watched the exchange in utter fascination. It was like watching something straight out of an action movie: "I'll be on high alert" "I'll tell you when the coast is clear" "Roger that" "I'll call you when something goes wrong"

The only thing was, this wasn't some action movie though Bucky did have a plan. You just never knew about it until you got in the elevators.

"Here's the plan." He started. "We go in holding hands, I'll introduce you as my girlfriend. Maybe fiancé! When she sees you, tell her you're my fiancé and when she tells you that she slept with me, I'm going to deny and you're going to believe me because as my fiancé, you deeply love me and believe everything I say."

"Ew, it's like I'm a sub."

"Wow, you're a dom?"

"I can be." You winked at him.

"Huh, I honestly thought you're a virgin. You know, that type of 'never been kissed, never been loved' type."

In your head, you started singing the rest of the song. "I'm an angel in the streets and devil in the sheets, Bucky." You joked which he took seriously seeing it on the look on his face. "Anyway, your plan?"

"Right! She'd yell and go nuts until she gives up and then leaves the hotel -- "

"Then we get married and let Peter pay for our honeymoon!" You finished for him with a sarcastic smile on your face.

He smirked. "I like the way you think, Aria. But I don't think Peter's gonna want that."

"What do you mean?"

"W-well, he's not gonna afford it is what I meant."

"You're probably right." You gave him a low chuckle. "You're rich. Pay for our honeymoon." You joked.

"As soon as we get this bitch out of here, yes I will, doll." He scrunched his nose up and winked at you right before the elevator doors opened. Swiftly, Bucky grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, you stepped out of the elevator. What stood in front of you was the same woman from earlier this morning. Body still clinging to Bucky's shirt. Faint red lipstick still smeared on some parts outside her lips. Blonde hair still disheveled. If you didn't know any better she was just here in the penthouse, waiting, not moving even a single inch.

You put your hand on Bucky's arm, hiding a faint expression of how big it felt against your skin. "Honey, who is this?"

"I-I don't know!"

The unnamed woman managed to step forward, looking Bucky in the eyes. "What do you mean you don't know? We slept last night!" Then, she looked at you. "Who the hell are you?"

"His fiancé." There was a sly smug tone in your voice. Even on your face.

"Fiancé? He didn't tell me anything about a fucking fiancé!"

"What the hell are you saying?" Bucky yelled. His grip tightened on your hand. "I've never even met you! How did you get in here?"

"We spent the night together, what the hell, Bucky!" She bellowed like a monster, then her voice softened. "I-I told you I love you."

"You're crazy."

"Call security." You said. "Now, Bucky!"

While Bucky grabbed for his phone, the woman pleaded, still trying to convince you that she slept with your fake fiancé. "If he says he doesn't know you," you responded, "then I believe him." Bucky slipped away from you, probably calling Leonard from downstairs. He gave you a knowing look, as if ushering you to unleash some kind of hell on his one-night stand. "You need to go, lady, if you don't want to be banned in every hotel here in New York. Yes, my fiancé can do that. So better get your ass out of here or -- "

"Okay, okay!" She held up her hands, giving up. "I'm out of here! Jesus fucking Christ -- " She mumbled more under her breath as she took of Bucky's clothes, revealing a white tank top underneath. She picked up her heels that were scattered on the living room: one shoe on the couch, the other near a foot of a small table. Picked up some pair of jeans on the carpet before stepping inside the elevator.

"I wish you luck in your fucking marriage." She said, tone filled with rage. Then, she proceeded to flip Bucky one last time before she disappeared behind the elevator doors, eyes boring into Bucky's.

"Okay, she's going down. Tell her to never come here again. Thanks, Lenny." Bucky dropped the phone call and gave you a smile. "And thank you for your performance."

You bowed, like how actors bow after a play ends, and flashed him a smile. "Why, thank you."

"Thanks to you I'm never gonna see that woman again in my life."

You turned your back on him, seeing the place for the first time without a tainted image of the woman. A line of little sculptures near every wall (perhaps the ones he commissioned from that subway artist). Family photos, albums and trophies took up a whole cabinet. You shifted your gaze towards the living room where a nice brown couch sits on top of a beige rug, which faced a huge flat screen television. Two pairs of love seats sat across from each other. A glass table set in the middle. On the back wall was a photograph of Bucky which took the whole space. He wore a neat, well-pressed grey suit, sitting on what seemed like a throne inside a home office, one leg stretched outwards and one leg just resting normally on the floor. He had this head tilt on one side, right hand under his chin, blue eyes looking directly at the camera. On its floor were stacks of magazines, and papers.

Even you couldn't deny how good Bucky looked in the photo but the photograph itself? You knew you could do better than that.

You turned around and found Bucky nowhere. "Bucky?"

He then emerged from what seemed like a kitchen because he was carrying loads of food and trod towards where you were and placed everything on the coffee table. "Yeah?"

"If I wasn't here, what would've you done?"

He shrugged, and opened a yogurt. "Probably stay in your apartment forever."

"Wow," you sat on the couch, watching him devour the food on the table, "seems like you've planned everything out."

"Seems like it, yeah."

"Do you always do this, Bucky?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have sex with girls, then make up a lie to get them out of your life."

"Oh, that was the first time." He replied. "Those three words really freaked me out. I've never heard that come from someone besides my family. Never even told anyone I've loved them, again, except my family."

You nodded in response and looked around the penthouse some more, admiring some paintings, big and small, on the walls. Perhaps some were real, perhaps some were just school ofs. On your right, was a draped curtain covering a whole glass wall that overlooked New York city. Bucky clicked some button somewhere which let the curtains open, letting some of the New York sun inside. From here, one could see the whole view of New York. All its pleasure, glory, grime, and lowliness.

Oh, the things you would give to live in a place like this. If you wanted to take in the beauty of New York, you had to climb up on the fire exit towards the rooftop. And the view from up there wasn't as pretty as this one. All the pretty spots were behind million dollar skyscrapers.

You looked at Bucky once more who leaned against the love seat, then closed his eyes. That same fuzzy image, which you thought you had buried at the back of my mind, resurfaced.

"Bucky?"

He shot straight up. "Yeah?"

"Have we... met each other before?"

A frown formed on his face, his blue eyes meeting yours, his gaze intense; as if he was trying to put a finger on something, on you. But then he gave up, telling you perhaps you'd just seen him somewhere here in New York the last time he was here, bumped into him. Something like that.

You agreed. Maybe that was it.

Again, you pushed that image at the back of your mind, hoping it would never come up while Bucky was still here.

You were about to ask Bucky how long he was planning to stay in New York before partying in every country outside America when your phone rang.

It was Steve. You picked it up immediately. "Hey, Steve. Is everything okay?"

Bucky shot his head towards you, perhaps wondering who this Steve was.

"Hey." He replied. His voice was groggy, like he just woke up. "There's been some misunderstanding with the shipments. They thought I said drop them in the morning. Long story short, the shipments are just outside the pub's door."

"What? They can't do that!"

"They have a lot of deliveries today so they had to. I told them to wait for you but those are impatient bastards. New shipment boys."

You cursed then stood up. "I'm actually not in the apartment right now. I'm somewhere else. Not important. I'm on my way."

"Get there fast, Aria."

"I will, don't worry. Bye, Steve."

Once you got off the phone, you told Bucky the whole situation.

"Let's go then!" He said with much enthusiasm. "Those drinks are no good sitting out there. How else am I going to make you the best drink you'll ever have, darling?"

[bookwyrminspiration]

i just saw the post about the AITA thing and i know i already replied but im still ?????

i only ever recieved ONE ask asking me to tag anything, which i did. immediately. i have NO idea who that person is or what the hell they're talking about. i have also literally never made anything akin to a callout post or said anything like what they're claiming i'm saying??

did someone else say that and they're misattributing it to me? what is going on?? help?????

(2/2) ive always supported proper tagging and it's very strange to know someone's just... throwing shit out there about me that's not true? the actual word "censorship" has never left my mouth. or my drafts. i dont understand how this many misunderstandings happened?

can people please just talk to me when something's wrong like im not scary i promise don't bite. i will gladly tag posts as long as i know what to tag them with (which is my main problem, i never know what needs to be tagged, so it would be incredibly helpful if people could tell me that.)

this is incredibly distressing, to say the least.

Yeah, I was also quite surprised by that post. I don't think it's an accurate depiction of what was/is going on, and if they think that's what we were saying I'd love to clear it up. If they were deliberately misrepresenting instead, well then that's just rude.

Also, I don't think that post is just about you. They're not, to my knowledge, saying you made a callout post, or that you spoke about censorship. They're talking about the general divide. I'm still not sure who the callout post thing was about, but I spoke a lot about censorship myself (though I didn't say tagging was censorship).

The crux of what they spoke of was about tagging, which wasn't a very central part of what we (or at least I) talked about at all. Perhaps it was central to their circles, and as such it felt like my points about censorship were arguing against that when it wasn't my intention.

Because yes, tagging is great. We can't make people tag, but it's courteous. No one has refused to tag anything or claimed it's censorship to my knowledge--though it's entirely possible I missed something.

It's just frustrating and trying to see misunderstandings like these, and to have discourse like this in the first place. My main focus has been in response to the "ewwww that's gross people shouldn't write/engage with that" (not a direct quote) reaction that initiated this, which didn't have to do with tagging at all. That got brought in later, but by then the direction of my posts was fairly established.

Anyway. I do wish whoever submitted that would've talked to you/me/us/otherwise directly. I find outsourcing like this doesn't help the situation. I suppose it's possible they tried, but I don't believe I've seen this summary/specific position before.

I think it'll all be fine.

[reginaaxxwrites]

Walls Could Talk • Todoroki Shoto

Pro Hero! Shoto x Villain! Reader

warning: mentions of blood, gore, killing, problems in psychological thinking

° • ° • ° •

"I'm asking you again. Why did you kill those people?" Tsukauchi asked the 20-year-old woman.

They were both sitting at a chair, a table between them as they were facing each other. He couldn't believe that the girl who's sitting in front of him, used to dream about being a hero someday.

But instead, she became a wanted villain. A woman who would kill innocent people, enjoying every stab she makes at a lifeless body. Her hands were used to be gentle and pure. Now, it's tainted in blood and hatred.

Tsukauchi didn't understand why she would do such a thing and why did she become what she is.

Y/N looked at him. Instead of answering his question. Her lips form a grin and started to laugh. It frightened him.

"Of course, you would ask that question." She stopped laughing and remained her body composed.

She leans forward even though chains surround her body, keeping her from escaping under their hands.

"I can see how sad and frightened you are, Mr. Tsukauchi. But you see... You can't change the fact that I killed people. I can see it in your eyes that you couldn't believe what I had become. A girl who you once thought a pure and innocent—you probably still think of me that. But I'm sorry to tell you that L/N Y/N is no longer here." She laughed again.

Tsukauchi wanted to save her. Maybe there's another way that could bring herself. He believes that there's still hope to bring back into your senses.

"No one can save me... Not even All Might himself." She looked at him, this time her eyes glowed in red like Aizawa's.

He stood up in his chair, leaving her behind. He took out his phone dialed his number. Maybe he can make her talk. Maybe he can bring her senses back.

Maybe he can bring her back.

He can't let her become like this.

Tsukauchi waited for him to pick up his phone. He balled his fist, his knuckles turning white. He's becoming impatient. He knows that he's busy due to his hero works but if he could just answer the phone.

He's the only person he thought could save her.

"Hello?"

"Shoto! I know that this might not be in a good time. But could you lend me some of yours? I need you here. ASAP." He said in frustration.

Todoroki could hear his frustration and panic through the phone. In fact, Tsukauchi called at a good time since he was about to talk to him about his recent investigation.

"I'll be there in 10 minutes." Todoroki hanged up and went to his car.

Δ Δ Δ

"I don't why Mount Lady said that girls would die if I smiled. Is my smile, deadly? Does my smile kill you?" Todoroki said, sitting beside the girl who tried her best to stop herself from laughing.

"Pfft—Sho, no. You're helpless." She laughed.

Todoroki stared at her. He felt warm in his chest, hearing her laugh, seeing her smile. Everything about her just makes him feel warm and happy.

"Okay—Pfft—I'm done laughing." She giggled, removing her small tears from her eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." She smiled and let her head lay at Todoroki's broad shoulder. "It's just a way of telling that they love how you smile. Because you know... You're handsome, seeing you smile makes them like you even more. It's making me kinda jealous, though." She giggled as she intertwined her fingers to his.

Todoroki caressed her hand and kissed it, making Y/N flustered from his sudden actions.

"Then, should I only smile whenever I'm around you?"

"Oh, stop. That's making me sound a little selfish."

"I don't mind."

"You're literally taking every word seriously, aren't you?"

"Is that bad?"

Y/N once laughed again. Todoroki never fails to make her laugh. But he didn't mind. Her laughs were music to his ears. He loved them. Everything. He loved everything about her.

Days like these... He wishes to stay like these forever. He never wants to let go of her hand. Without her feels empty and cold.

She brings him happiness. A love that once was taken away from him was brought back because of her.

Δ Δ Δ

Todoroki arrived at the police station where Tsukauchi is. Tsukauchi went to Todoroki after seeing him enter inside the building.

"About the investigation—"

"We have some important serious matter besides that mission." He cuts him off. "Follow me." He turned around and walks off.

Todoroki followed him, yet he is confused. What is that important serious matter is he talking about? He hopes that it isn't dangerous because if it is Tsukauchi would not just have called him but also Midoriya and Bakugo.

After entering a room. Todoroki stood there in shock to see a familiar woman sitting inside the custody suite. Chains were surrounded her body as she looks emotionless.

She's breathing, alive. But at the same time, the aura she's giving was cold. There was no warm feeling he used to feel whenever he sees her.

Todoroki could feel his body weakened. How could possibly that the girl he thought died a few years ago was alive and is sitting inside the room? Not knowing that he's outside. He could've sworn he saw her took her last breathe.

"I'm sure you know why I called you."

"H-How? She died in my arms." His voice was shaking.

"Remember the wanted villain? Phantom Scarlet. Who kills innocent people. Whether it's a child or an elder. She kills them without mercy." Tsukauchi feels sick of how brutal her ways of killing are. She likes to kill them in a creative way. She's a psychopath. A serial killer. Sure, saving her is not a solution to this case. But he wanted to know why and how did this happen.

All of her classmates knew that she had died. They were there during her funeral. So how could a dead L/N Y/N is still here, killing people as the way of her fun time, a hobby?

"Maybe you could bring herself back to senses. Or ask the questions that could get answered. I know this is a sensitive favor. But I know that you also, have some questions to ask her." Tsukauchi started to talk. He gave Todoroki a glance that he should enter inside the custody suite.

Todoroki nodded at him as he held the doorknob tightly, taking a deep breath before entering.

He sat down at the chair that faces her and kept himself calm. He took one last glance at the large window where he could see Tsukauchi looking at them.

"Y/N."

The E/C-haired girl looked at the man she once knew. She stared at him, plainly. Not really surprised that he was sitting in front of her.

"Who would've thought that he would call you."

"You died. We were at your funeral. You died during the war between Midoriya and Tomura Shigaraki. How—"

"You know nothing, Todoroki. The man we fought killed my parents, my family. I seek revenge. I wanted to avenge my parents that's why I fought him together with Midoriya even if it caused my life."

Todoroki gripped his pants. He remembered how Shigaraki stabbed her deep. He stabbed the critical parts of her body. She coughed blood, she was losing all of her blood. Todoroki trying to keep the pressure. He was desperate to close your wounds so she would stop bleeding.

"H-How did you survived?"

"I didn't die. Everyone thought I did. But I didn't." She chuckled. "No one dared to open my casket because I wasn't the one who's inside of it."

Todoroki widens his eyes as Tsukauchi heard the words she said. If she isn't the person inside... Then who?

"Surprising, isn't it?" She smiled, her voice in excitement as she was about to reveal something important. "You're wondering who's inside? Honestly, I don't even who's inside. Probably another person's dead body that I killed." She giggled.

Todoroki was in shock to see the girl he loved. Up until now. He couldn't even go out on dates and love another girl because he still loves her.

"Disappointed to see the girl you once fell in love with is a psychopath? I killed people because I wanted to. I woke up and felt an urge to kill. The first time I killed after the war... I felt alive. It's like it was the missing piece in a puzzle. It completed me. I let all of you knew that I died because being with all of you doesn't feel like home anymore."

"What about you told me that you wanted to be a hero? To save people and bring them into justice?" Todoroki asked. He was still looking for her.

Y/N...

"Aww... Can't you see, Shoto? I'm not in the right mindset. I said those words to fit in. When clearly what I wanted was to avenge my family and kill villains. It's a cruel reality, Sho. Accept it."

Bring her back...

"Did you... Did you really loved me?" He looked directly at her eyes. He could've sworn she saw her eyes widen by the sudden question he asked.

He's hoping that even if she lied about becoming a hero and her true intentions. At least the love that she gave to him was enough to make him believe that deep inside she was honest about herself. That she really, truly loved him.

"Our love made me crazy, Shoto. I wanted to kill those girls who come and flirt with you. But I stopped myself because I knew you would leave me. Though, I did hurt Camie once. She kept texting you so I gave her a little warning." She giggled. "You made me a maniac, Shoto. And you didn't even know."

Everything was clear. The days they spent together, he didn't even notice that she was a psychopath. That she has a longing for killing people. But how would he know when you were the girl that kept him warm and loved?

All of it was a lie.

"I did love you. That's why I am willing to kill for you. But seeing your face right now, makes me wanna burst into a laugh. Did I disappoint you? I hope I did."

"STOP! BRING HER BACK. I KNOW SHE'S STILL IN THERE. WHOEVER ARE YOU—JUST FUCKING BRING HER BACK!" Todoroki couldn't hold it any longer and shouted at her.

He refused to believe, but how can he tell that this wasn't happening when she told him everything.

Everything is twisted.

"Give up, Shoto. You can't save everyone. That includes me. Let me go and move on." Y/N said in a gentle voice. Todoroki calmed himself but he already knew.

She has a split personality.

"Y/N?"

"There's nothing you can do. I let myself do this. I chose this path." She looked at him the way she looked at him during their high school days. "No one can stop me from killing." Then a split second, she was no longer there, again.

"That's enough, Shoto," Tsukauchi called to get their attention. "We've got the answers we wanted. It's enough."

It was truly terrifying. Tsukauchi looked at her. She was still there but it feels like she isn't.

Todoroki went out of the room, feeling sick about what happened. She had a split personality all this time. He couldn't save her... He can't save her. Not anymore. In order for her to stop killing, is by locking her inside a psychiatric ward or by putting her on a death sentence.

"Thank you for your help, Shoto. And I'm sorry." He followed Todoroki as sat down in frustration. His right hand on his face, still shocked about everything.

"It's all my fault."

[kerie-prince]

daisy cafe

Harry Potter x Muggle!reader

not a request

warnings: mentions of death, ptsd?? (in the form of nightmares)

summary: Harry starts his healing journey after the Battle, and a rainy night after a counseling session brought him into your café

a/n: hope y'all like this random imagine i wrote <3 i was meant to post it last night but i got into a heated debate about ww84 and i don't queue posts so here's this. no lie, i had a hard time writing this lol it's a whole 4k long imagine (whoops) also, when i say 'football' in this fic, i mean soccer lol

(gif cred)

The Battle of Hogwarts.

There was a lot to say about that day. So many perspectives and interpretations from different people. And today, Harry would talk to his counselor about his. At first, he opposed the idea of having a counselor but Hermione insisted that he talks to a professional. Well, insisted probably isn't the word. If anything, Hermione probably forced him into it and made the appointment herself.

So here he sat in the waiting room, sitting awkwardly in an uncomfortable chair. Even the chairs in the Hogwarts classrooms were more comfortable than these. The room was small and had tacky sunflower wallpaper. Harry sat by himself and internally cursed his best friends for just leaving him there and drove off. ‘Call me when it's over!’ Hermione had yelled out through the window.

“Mr. Harry Potter?” a young man called out for him. Harry followed him into the counselors office, noticing that the room was much nicer than the waiting room and the chairs looked more comfortable. And if he was going to be stuck here for over an hour, he better not walk out with back pain.

Harry sat patiently as he waited for the counselor to come. He noticed the golden name plate on the desk with a name written in black letters. Jon Osborne. Harry’s leg was unconsciously bouncing in rhythm with the ticking of the clock on the wall. He didn't think he'd be nervous about it as he was now. He immediately stood up as he heard Dr. Osborne come in. “Mr. Potter, it’s an honor to meet you,” he stretched his hand out to greet Harry.

“Pleasure’s all mine, sir,” Harry said with a shy smile. Once they sat down, Dr. Osborne went straight into it, “So tell me, Mr. Potter, how have you been?”

“Great. I've been busy planning a wedding,” Harry stated like it was a normal conversation. “Congratulations. Yours, I'm assuming?”

“No, it's for my two best mates,” Harry corrected. “They're getting married pretty soon and I offered to help pay for it. Not really doing much of decoration planning, Hermione thinks Ron and I would pick something stupid,” Harry wasn't looking at Dr. Osborne directly, but he had a faint smile as he explained the details. “And are you with anyone?” Dr. Osborne asked.

It made the young wizard think. Ron and Hermione were getting married, Neville and Luna were having fun on small dates, and Ginny was still going back and forth with Dean. “No, I'm not with anyone at the moment.”

His counselor wrote something down quickly before going forward with the next question. “Do you think about it often?” Harry knew what he was insinuating. His breath hitched a bit. Harry certainly didn’t expect to be asked this question so early on. From Hermione’s explanation, he wasn’t expecting to talk about the Battle for maybe another couple sessions. And that was if Harry even wanted to do other sessions.

“You don’t think you need to be here,” it was like he read Harry’s mind. And it was true. “Well, I do have a pretty solid support group. We all went through it together.” Harry rubbed the palms of his unusually sweaty hands against his pants.

“So because you and your friends went through it together, you're okay? Nothing about it bothers you?” had Dr. Osborne’s tone altered just a bit, he would've sounded condescending. He sounded a bit empathetic. It made Harry actually want to talk. “Do you and your friends actually talk about it?”

The answer was clear to Harry. No. If he was being honest, he didn't think there's even a reason to talk about it. The worst had been over, and now that him and his friends and family – and by family, he meant the Weasleys – were finally in peace, Harry figured that he wouldn't have to think about it again.

But the nightmares were relentless. It wasn't like the ones he had when Voldemort was in his mind and showing him things he wanted to show Harry. These nightmares were worse. They consisted of the worst that could have happened that day. Watching his friends die, his professors, his peers. The worst of the worst. And there's one that he hated the most. Being in Voldemort's point of view and killing Harry successfully and for good this time.

Hermione tried to get Harry to talk, but he's too stubborn. So she figured the only way to get him to talk was to schedule this appointment. He was promised confidentiality and listening ears with no judgement. Harry accepted because he knew that even though Hermione would always be there, she would probably say something like ‘You're not alone in this, we're all here for you and with you.’ Ron would listen to the whole thing and suggest getting a drink and food. Harry loves his friends, but it's hard to talk about such things when they've gone through it too. He wondered if they felt the same.

—

Harry was leaving his fourth session with Dr. Osborne. Unexpectedly, he enjoyed these meetings. It felt good to talk to someone outside of his friends. Hermione noticed how he was returning to his old self, joking around and enjoying playing quidditch at the Burrow.

Harry decided on taking a small walk around the Muggle London street before calling Hermione and Ron to pick him up. After ten minutes, though, sprinkles of rain were falling down. And sprinkles turned into hard falls. Harry covered his head with his hands and looked around for someplace to run in. Next to him was a dental office, but to his luck the door was locked. He kept looking and looking for some place to stay inside until finally, he saw a building across the street with a lit up ‘Open’ sign.

Harry looked both sides of the street before running across. He was getting soaked by the second and when he ran inside, his jacket was dripping onto the mat. The place was warm and smelled lovely. Harry took his glasses off and wiped it with the driest part of his shirt. The cafe looked as warm as it felt. There weren’t any guests inside and he didn't find anyone working there. Harry saw the bell on the bread display and pressed on it a few times. After a couple of minutes, a girl came to the front. “Sorry for taking so long, how can I help– oh are you alright?” You saw the puddles of water that were splattered all around the floor. But your worry was with the stranger that was most likely freezing. “D-do you happen to have a phone around?” Harry asked you. He was shaking where he stood and all he wanted was to go home and get into some warm clothes. You nodded your head and went in the back to get the phone. Harry wanted to sit down, but he didn't want to make more of a mess than he’s already done. You came back quickly with a phone and a few rags so he could dry himself.

Harry dialed Hermione’s number and waited for her to answer. She didn't answer the first or second time which made Harry frustrated. They better not be in the middle of it right now. Finally, she answered on his third call. “Hello?”

“Hermione, what the bloody hell have you been doing?” Harry sassed. When he looked up, he saw how you stood awkwardly to the side, surprised that in contrast to his sweet demeanor, he sounded like the opposite. But that was just your assumption.

“Harry? Is that you? Why are you calling from this number?” In the background, he could hear Teddy joyful coos. “I was just giving Teddy a bath, I couldn't hear the phone.”

“Oh. Well, it’s raining really hard, can you come pick me up?” Harry felt your eyes on him still and he smiled awkwardly.

“Of course, are you still in the office?”

“No, I’m– hold on” he stopped mid-sentence and lowered the phone down, “where am I?” It took you a couple seconds to process that he was talking to you now, “Oh, uh, Daisy Cafe.”

“Daisy Cafe,” Harry repeated back to Hermione. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” And she hung up. Harry handed the phone back to you, “Thanks.”

Your hand was warm against his, a warmth he wished he had instead of the cold that enveloped his body. Harry’s legs were getting tired from standing so long and you noticed the shift in his position. “Please, take a seat,” you had gestured to a table. Harry insisted that he didn't want to ruin the chairs, but you didn't mind.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and ran to the back leaving Harry alone. He wondered what you were doing until he saw you come back slowly dragging a large heating machine. Harry stood from his seat and rushed to help you, “Where did you want this?”

“I was going to put this in front of the table so you can warm up. Don’t want you to get sick,” you spoke softly. You felt yourself warm up on your cheeks, somehow shy in this moment. On a daily basis, you talk to loads of strangers and some of them were quite attractive. But something about this stranger felt different.

Harry blinked with an indescribable look in his eyes as he stuttered a ‘thank you’. You turned on the large heater after Harry sat back down and slightly shifted his chair so he could be in range of the heaters’ direction.

You grabbed your keys from your back pants pocket to lock the door and turned the ‘Open’ sign off. “Would you like some coffee?” you offered him. Harry nodded and searched his pockets for his wallet before you stopped him, “Don't worry! It's on the house.”

There was a pot of coffee that was still hot on the warmer and you grabbed a tray, filling it with a mug, creamer, sugar, and a small plate of assorted biscuits in case he was hungry as well. You walked to his table and sat them down. He was in awe of all the things you brought out for him and felt grateful that you would do this for a stranger. “Thank you,” he nodded his head at you with a genuine smile.

“It’s no trouble,” you smiled back. You sat across from him with a mug of your own and sipped on the hot beverage you made. Harry took a sip of the coffee he finished preparing and nearly sighed at the feeling of it warming him up inside. Mixed with the heat that was coming from the heater, he felt brilliant as he usually says.

“Do you live around here?” You started small chat to get out of the awkward silence.

“No, I live just outside Ottery St. Catchpole.” Harry stated. He noticed the confused look on your face, you had probably had no idea where that was. “It’s kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

You nodded in response. Harry then asked if you lived around. After a while, you had gotten to know each other pretty well. He learned about your two cats that are always fighting, you learned about his friends always pulling pranks on each other in the house. As Harry waited for Hermione to pick him up, he was enjoying talking and laughing with you. You two were having such a good time getting to know each other in what felt like thirty minutes, but was actually an hour.

Once Hermione was in front of the cafe and beeped the horn of the car, Harry felt a bit disappointed to leave. This was probably the first conversation he had with someone who he didn't already live with or paid to listen. And it was a bonus that he found you quite attractive. “That’s for me. Thank you… for letting me stay.”

“Oh it’s no trouble. Safe travels on your way home! I hope you don’t get sick,” you waved off as you opened the door for him. Harry ran through the hard rain to get into his friend's car, but once he opened the door to the front seat, he turned back to you. “I never got your name!” Harry yelled out.

“Y/N! What’s yours?” You voiced with the same energy.

“Harry!” You smiled and waved one last time before closing the door and got yourself ready to go home. Harry fastened his seatbelt and held a small smile nearly the entire ride home. Hermione cleared her throat to get her friends’ attention. “How was the session today?”

Harry nodded ‘yes’ in an attempt to not have to talk. Not because he was gloomy, but distracted. He then processed what she said and replied back to the bushy haired woman, “Oh, i-it went fine. Good, great.” Harry was stuttering over his words. It was something that Hermione instantly noticed what was going on. The last time he was like this was when he first met Cho in fourth year. It was nice, she thought, that Harry was not only getting back to normal, but was also focused on something - or rather someone - other than his nightmares.

—

Harry goes to your cafe now after every session with Dr. Osborne. He finally went for his drivers license so he didn't have to depend on Hermione anymore. Ron and Hermione apparate to work anyway, so it granted him more access to the car.

Every Monday and Thursday, you would wait for him to walk through your doors. You would set aside a small box of warm biscuits for him that he seemed to enjoy and remembered how he took his coffee. After a couple of weeks, the people you worked with would give you a smirk and tease you with ‘He’s here~’. One of them, Jo, would constantly ask you if Harry has asked you out yet. And every time, you'd say ‘No.’ only for him to reply back ‘Well, why don’t you ask him out?’

You’ve definitely thought about it, but you didn't know how to ask him. There would be times that you thought Harry would do it before he left, but he’d just be a stuttering mess and leave. So, tonight before he leaves, you planned to just be straight with him and ask him to dinner.

Harry came later than usual today. After he stepped out of the counselors’ office, he checked his hair in the mirror he saw in the hallways. Tonight, he was also planning on asking you out. He likes you and he was pretty sure you liked him too. Once he stepped outside, he saw a flower cart in front of a local bank. Harry debated whether or not to buy you some, but opted out. What if she says no? What do I do with them at that point?

After an hour of having a mental pep talk, he entered Daisy Cafe. He didn't see you behind the bread display like he always had. Jo had recognized him immediately and watched as Harry looked around the small cafe for you. “She’s in the back, would you like for me to get her?”

“I-I can wait. She’s probably busy,” Harry stuttered. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or bad thing that your co-worker instantly knew what he was there for. Is it really obvious? Harry thought. He saw as Jo walked to the back anyway, probably announcing his presence to you. As it turned out, you were in the back checking yourself out in the small mirror that was hung on the inside of your locker. You ran out as soon as Jo said "He’s here" and dusted the flour off onto your apron.

“Hi, Harry,” you greeted.

“Hi,” Harry greeted back. “How are you?”

“I’m doing good, just cleaning up. Did you have a good day?” you asked. Harry nodded his head. He was about to order before you stopped him, “Your usual today?” He gave a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head, “I come in that often, don't I?” You chuckled and began making his coffee. “It’s alright, I enjoy your company.” The both of you blushed, more so you after the sudden confession.

You couldn't see him, but Jo was listening to your conversation and wanted to laugh. You looked at Harry for any signs of possible rejection and just as quickly looked away to finish his order. Jo came out from the back with his bag and keys in his hand, “I’ve counted the safe for you. Have a good night, I’ll head out.” You nodded your head and thanked god for the interruption, “Thanks hun, see you tomorrow.” He winked at Harry once you looked away as to say ‘Good luck’ and walked out.

Harry became nervous and thought about just grabbing his coffee and going home. He hadn't dated anyone in a long time and didn't know where to even start. Merlin, he didn't even know what to do in a relationship. And especially with a muggle. Harry nearly forgot what it was like to be around muggles after the Dursley's left their home on Privet Drive and Harry moved in the Weasley’s in the Burrow. He certainly couldn't bring you there anytime soon. Especially when Arthur would ask you loads of questions. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

Neither of you knew how to get a conversation going. You took your time stirring his coffee and grabbing the small box of biscuits before turning back to him. You made yourself tea instead, having drank too much coffee throughout the day to calm your nerves. He took the styrofoam cup and box from your hands and purposely brushed his fingers against yours but made it seem like an accident. Your neck stiffened at the sudden physical contact and pulled your hands back. He felt electric and if he let you, you'd grab his hands and keep them intertwined with yours.

It’s now or never you thought. “Do you want to go to dinner sometime–”

“Would you like to go out with me–” you and Harry spoke at the same time. You hadn't processed what he said so you questioned, “Huh? What was that?” Harry thought he heard you correctly, but he asked you again, “Would you like to go out with me? For dinner, maybe?”

YES, YES, YES you chanted in your head. Your heart was warm and you felt a butterfly flutter about inside you. On the outside, you were cool and collected. But your smile could have spoken for you. “Yes, I’d love that.”

—

Hermione helped Harry with looking for nice places in muggle London. George offered his best suit to the raven-haired boy, but Harry declined because he was significantly smaller in stature than the tall ginger, and also because he feared that George would have hexed the suit to either squirt out water, or have random objects falling out the sleeves.

George, Ginny and Ron would tease Harry about finally having a girlfriend, only to get scolded by both Hermione and Molly to stop. “Harry is a perfectly handsome young boy, he should be dating as much as he can,” Molly would defend.

“Ah, but mum, Harry isn't a boy anymore,” George joked. Molly hit her sons’ head with a cleaning rag and returned to what she was doing. Harry had picked a small restaurant that Hermione recommended that was inexpensive but not shabby. He never really liked expensive places or things even though he can absolutely afford them. She suggested that she helped him pick out something to wear, but he stopped her right there. “I can dress myself, thanks,” Harry sassed.

“The one you should be helping is my hopeless brother,” Ginny joked about Ron. He didn't find it all funny as Ron had a sour look on his face and whispered under his breath, “Bloody menace.”

“What did you say?” Ginny stood straight up from the couch and chased Ron throughout the house. She may be the youngest in the house, but it didn't make her any less scary when mad. George laughed at the sight of his siblings fighting while Molly yelled at them to be careful.

Harry finally put everything together – but if he was honest, he was putting together whatever Hermione said – and went to his room. There was still a couple days until the date, but he was nervous. He’s never really gone on a date. There was the night with Patil at the Yule Ball, but that didn't end well. There were a couple hang outs with Cho in the library, but never an actual date. So he hoped that this would turn out well.

—

Harry's breath was taken away when he saw you. You looked absolutely beautiful in the sundress you wore. Looking ethereal, you hadn't noticed Harry across the street parking the car. For a split second, he almost rear ended the car in front of him.

He walked towards slowly after taking a deep breath and held a single daisy in one hand. Hermione said roses were ideal, but he figured he should come up with at least one thing on his own. Your e/c eyes met his green ones and your heart did somersaults in your chest. Once he stood in front of you, you both said ‘Hi’ at the same time. Harry handed you the daisy and you were flattered by the gesture. It was a beautiful flower and you couldn't wait to put it in a small vase and display it at the cafe.

“Shall we go inside?” Harry had one of his hands pointed towards the door of the restaurant. You nodded and walked into the place with Harry holding the door open for you and another elderly couple behind him. He’s so sweet you thought.

The night was perfect; Harry had felt comfortable in your presence. Much like the first night you had met and the times after, you both spent the dinner talking and laughing. This was the most normal, but also best Harry had felt in a long time. He hadn't realized how he never really got to be a young person due to all the insane things he’d gone through his six years at Hogwarts and then before with his aunt and uncle. But here he was with you, doing the most normal thing. Harry’s troubles were lifted off of his shoulders. There was no threat of Death Eaters terrorizing the streets, there was no Dark Lord out to get him; it was just him sitting down and having dinner with a woman that he really liked.

He learned more about you tonight. For one, you were also an only child. Other than your cats, you also liked dogs. And you occasionally played football with some of your cousins. Harry had never played football, but if it was anything like quidditch, he was sure that he'd love it as well.

At the end of the date, he took you to your underground tube station. You walked side by side, hands slightly brushing against another. You walked a bit faster to stop in your tracks right in front of him. “I had a lot of fun,” you confessed.

“Me too,” Harry expressed. You looked down at your fiddling hands while Harry couldn't take his eyes off of you. He was about to say ‘good night’ before you built up the courage and kissed him on the cheek. “Night, Harry,” you beamed at him. Harry was turned into a blubbering, love-struck fool as he saw you walk further and further away. Finally, he yelled out, “I’ll see you on Monday!”

Before turning away into the tube, you waved and repeated his words back at him, “See you Monday!”

—

“Well you're certainly in a bright mood today, Mr. Potter,” Dr. Osborne observed Harry from his seat. Since the date, he’s been talking a bit brighter and his smile is more genuine than when he first came in. “Could it be because you’re seeing someone after you leave?” All Harry could do was smile. “Well I’m very happy that you now have a companion aside from your friends.”

Harry nodded before he replied back, “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to thank me, Mr. Potter. You did this on your own,” Dr. Osborne stated. “Will you bring her to the wedding?”

“No, I don't think we’re ready for that,” Harry informed. This wedding would definitely include magic and you hadn't been close to any exposure of it. “Of course.” Dr, Osborne added. There was a bit of silence after that, which gave the counselor an opportune moment to ask about some of the things that were the reason for his weekly visits. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

Harry’s smile lowered. “Yeah, I do. But not as frequent as I used to have them.” It was true, it went down from him having them about nearly everyday to only get them once every couple weeks. He thanked Merlin you were kept out of his nightmares. He didn't need to see something traumatizing.

Dr. Osborne took notes and set his notepad down. “Well, Mr. Potter. I have seen excellent progress since day one. I think we can move down to just one session per week and work our way down to once every few weeks. I'll see you next Monday.” He opened the door for Harry and shook his hand as Harry left. Harry went to your cafe right after. The daisy he gifted you was on display above the glass bread display in a small, white vase. He hoped that you regularly watered and fed it so you wouldn't notice that Harry actually hexed the flower to never die. You were currently helping someone out when Harry stood in line. Once the customer you were with left, you noticed your boyfriend – at least you assumed he was, now – standing behind a couple of people. He waved at you, and you pointed to the usual table he sat at. It was almost like you reserved the table only for him. He nodded and sat down, patiently waiting for you to finish the line of customers.

Harry was mesmerized watching you work, the beautiful, kind smile you had when talking to customers. Some of them were obviously regulars as you asked one elderly man how his grandchildren were. Once she finished helping everyone, she started working on the usual coffees and tray on biscuits for the two of you.

Harry loved hearing about your day and he wished he could tell you more beyond what happens at home that didn't include magic. He didn't know when he'd tell you about him being a wizard. Ron and Hermione told him that if he were to tell you, you're more than welcome to attend their wedding which was still a few months away now that they have all the time in the world to plan it. He didn't know what to say, but there was one thing he was sure about. He really liked, maybe even loved, how comfortable he felt around you. He liked the way your hands felt in his, your eyes shying away when you looked at him for too long. And he loved the feeling of your warm, soft lips against his at the end of the night when you had just locked the doors and he just went for it. Because in that moment, he wasn't the famous Harry Potter who saved the wizarding world, he wasn't Harry Potter who was recovering from the aftermath of the Battle. He was just Harry, and he really liked being your boyfriend.

At least he assumed he was.

—

requests open!

[indianamoonshine]

Strawberry | Chapter 12 | Flames

Summary: Will joins the family dinner. The night can hide many things.

Rating: (+18) for…situations.

A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the long hiatus. Please accept this peace offering (jealous!Din) as a token of my gratitude.

TAG LIST: @t3a-bag @lumimon47 @dodgerandevans @hallway5 @dancingwiththeplanets @steeevienicks @orneryscandallousandevil @ficthots @gaiusfrakkinbaltar @reginagina-blog1 @loveme-tenderly @lastphoenixrising @rattlemyb0nes @rebellou @alljusthumans @gaiuswrites @lovecatsnotpeople

The symposium of a midwestern dinner sounds a lot like Bach's work.

Difficult notes with high to reach places and then very low caverns just a moment later. The cicadas in the background are a nice touch; it's something Tchaikovsky might have wished he could capture. Silverware - old enough to be considered vintage now - clank against the porcelain dinner plates. Charlotte lets out her fae-like laughter and Rhea listens intently, eyes gazing dreamily upon Tommy as he carries on conversation. The house is full tonight.

You suppose it was out of the kindness of your father's heart to invite Will to this dinner. Everyone within a two mile radius usually came to these spur-of-the-moment things. Will was an old family friend and his father supplied yours with fresh goat's milk and chicken eggs, so it wasn't all that strange he came along. Still, it made the meal a bit more difficult to swallow. Quite literally.

Din is sitting directly across from you. You think it might have been intentional because Will chose to plop his happy ass right beside you, grinning that lopsided smile and charming his way out of the discomfort with a joke. You play the part by laughing when he tries to outwit everyone in the room or by asking him how the farm manages these days. Will isn't a cocky person by nature, but something about the rigidness of his composure when Din asks for the green beans makes you all too suspicious.

It doesn't make any sense. Will broke things off with you. If he were to be jealous, it wouldn't be for anything but pride and show. A year ago it would've bothered you that Will was cajoling the room for the sake of his vanity, but now it was just embarrassing for everyone involved.

"Din, do you remember the summer of '90?" your father asks across the table, clearly involved in another conversation that pertains to this anecdote.

The man across you hums and shakes his head with a reluctant grin. "I try not to," he fibs, cutting at his steak.

Your father chuckles. "I was nineteen and Din was..." he pauses. "Jeez, Din. How old were ya?"

"Seventeen."

"Ah, right! Rhea hadn't been born yet but Scarlett was pregnant with her by the end of the summer. That was our last free year, wasn't it? Well, mine anyway." You dad points his fork in Rhea's direction, a bit of steak dangling from its end. "And then you came along."

Rhea scoffs. "Well, geez. My bad for existing."

There's no darkness in either of their words so the exchange makes everyone at the table chuckle in good humor. Your father and Din go back and forth about the irresponsible and, well, illegal things that had been done that summer. Underage drinking. Trespassing. And somehow Din always got away with it.

"He never got us caught. Ever. I still don't know how you did it." Your father says to his friend, eyes wrinkling with a genuine smile. "Damn good thing too considering how much pot we smoked. It's a good thing my girls didn't get that rebellious streak."

A witty response is formed upon your lips but only until Will cuts you off.

"I don't know about that," he pipes in.

You're taken aback, quite literally tossing your head to gauge his interjection. "What?"

An indifferent silence hushes the dinner party. Your sisters chew their food carefully, eyes glued upon the scene before them like it was one of their soap operas. Your father awaits an explanation with a rather scandalized look upon his face, but Will's father - Clarence - doesn't seem at all fazed by any probability of illegal activity.

Will rolls his chin to serve you an exasperated look. "Oh, come on. We're adults now; we can come clean." He drenches his steak in more A1 sauce before revealing: "Your daughter was the one to egg the sheriff's house."

The entire room initially goes as silent as a graveyard before everyone chokes on a snort and begins to roar with laughter. Clarence slaps your father on the back as the two of them snicker like a pair of hyenas.

"Will!" you growl. "You said you'd take that to your deathbed!"

The pain in the ass beside you howls with laughter, holding his stomach, and having to pause from drinking his beer. "Daffi, it's fine. They can't do anything about it now."

"That's not the point!" you scowl.

Din is grinning from ear to ear, obviously amused by your humiliation. It was a childish thing to do but the sheriff was a dick in the worst way and you wanted him to know it. That was a hot summer - record breaking, actually - and by the time he'd woken, the egg had dried upon his lawn and across the face of his home. Ole' Sheriff Winslow scoured the town for weeks before finally abandoning his quest altogether.

"You got something to say, Mister Djarin?" you inquire playfully, scolding him with a fire in your eyes.

Din clears his throat and furrows his brows. "No, no. I wouldn't dare."

The two of you exchange a glance that was far too intimate for this dining room. His eyes softened upon meeting yours and his smirk was silly, drunk on something other than the beer in his hand. If it weren't for dear Will's additional reminiscence, you might've fallen under the spell lingering in the space between you.

"Yeah, that was a great summer. We had our first kiss that year, remember?"

You blink, all thoughts of Din's mouth upon yours fizzling away like steam. Instead, it is replaced with the frayed-edged memory of Will's rusted pick-up parked in the darkest corner of the local McDonalds. It was hardly a first kiss worth mentioning if it hadn't been for how good he was at it and how bad you were. Still: what the fuck?

You wanted to say just that but refrained from doing so. Instead you say, "Lots of awkward fumbling if I recall." It comes out sharp - petty. If he wanted to behave like a child, you could do it too.

Din's trying so desperately hard not to glare at Will. You can see it in the deliberate chug of his beer.

-

“What. The. Hell.”

“I know.”

“Wait,” Charlotte holds up a hand, expression dumbstruck. “I’m not done.”

You roll your eyes and scrub at a particularly stubborn dish, waiting for her dramatics to be over.

“…was that?” she finishes.

Rather anti-climactic.

“It’s Will,” you tell her, voice bored but teetering on the edge of fury. “It’s fucking Will. What do you expect?”

Charlotte shakes her head, eyes bulging with disbelief as she blinks over and over again as though trying to compute. She takes a dish from you, sopping wet, and begins to dry it with a rag. You know Charlotte is eager to gossip because she never - never - offers to help clean after supper.

Everyone else is carrying on from the awkward conversation by sitting at the bonfire and making pudgy-pies. It’s the kind of snack one eats when they need to forget about anything other than the impending weight gain. You watch from the window as Rhea slathers Nutella upon a piece of white bread and then some cut strawberries. Honestly, you could really go for one, but the idea of being anywhere near Will makes your skin crawl.

“Did he say anything to you? Before dinner? Or after? Like…why would he say something like that?” Charlotte carefully stacks the delicate plates atop each other. They clank against one another noisily.

Like cymbals within the symphony.

“Nope,” you tell her. “Not a word. I have no idea what’s gotten into him.”

Charlotte goes silent, rubbing at the plates until they’re dry as a bone, and then whispers, “He obviously knows.”

You square your jaw, glancing around to make sure no one is in the vicinity, and then let out a great sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure he does. I was all over Din at the bar.”

Your dear sister brightens at the mention of the night prior. She stops her drying and places her hands upon your shoulders so that you may look her in the eyes. You see mahogany. Deep. Rich. Full of life and excitement. In her eyes, it is proof that she’s a good spirit and in good health. (And…well, maybe a little tipsy, but that’s besides the point.)

“I like him. For you.” Is what she confesses. She places her hands upon your cheeks and squishes them together. You protest, taking her wrists and wrestling her, but giggling all the while. “I mean it. I think he adores you. And so do I.”

You nod in her grasp. “Okay, okay! I know, yes. I know!” you chuckle, breathless from the lack of air supply. She still has you in a chokehold. “Can you please let me go now?!”

Charlotte releases you from her trap and you gasp a throat-full of air, belly aching from laughter. The two of you embrace one another in a hug, attempting to lift the other, and then falling upon the linoleum - sore with serenity.

-

There is something stirring in Din.

It is a fire that has just been fanned from embers he sought to snuff out. But they hadn’t perished, despite how hard he had tried. The coals burned. He burned.

For you.

At the bar, Din ignored Will to the best of his ability; sort of like how one ignores an irritating bumblebee. Leave him be, Din had chanted. He’s harmless. After all, Din had years stacked against Will. How was it possible to be so insecure by this kid?

Because that’s essentially what he is, right? He’s so goddamned young; he looks as though he’s never taken a hit in his life. He’s too pretty, too put together. He’s firm skin and tight abs. And Din, well…

Din was not.

Din was old. He was well past forty years of age now, playing house with a woman over twenty years his senior. No matter how well he managed to keep the façade so believable, it would one day end in disaster - embarrassment. Heartache. And defeat. He can’t bear the thought.

It wasn’t like him. He’s never given a shit about anyone’s perception of him before, nevertheless mulled over the ex of a romantic interest. Not to say that Din’s ever felt the way he did with you; no one has even come close. Xian was his longest “situationship” and when it inevitably burst into flames, he didn’t bat an eye. (He wonders if that makes him a terrible person.) If his toxicity with Xian was worth anything, it was just a testament of his endurance.

But you. The world fucking blurs when you’re near.

So when Will - cocky as Din once was - utters unsolicited bullshit, it takes every ounce of dignity he has left to remain silent.

We had our first kiss that year, remember?

There is a primal urge to reach across the table and wring the smug expression from Will’s face, to grab you with an unfamiliar hunger, carry you across the acre, and toss you onto his bed and just…

No. That was brutish. He wasn’t like that. He couldn’t allow himself to feel possessive over you because you couldn’t be owned. He knew that. But that fire licked at his inner conscious until he had to excuse himself from dinner altogether.

The darkest parts of him pace during the bonfire, though he manages to sit still and interpret Will’s behavior. His youth glows betwixt the crazed flames, an ombré of red and orange dancing across everyone’s skin. Din watches, he listens, he notes every little thing like hunters do. Because for some reason - some ungodly, twisted reason - Din felt as though Will were a bounty now. It’s the only way he could feel superior.

“Daffodil!” Will calls out suddenly. “Get over here!”

The hinges in Din’s jaw pop as he clenches his teeth, grinding them so forcefully he thinks Rhea - who sits beside him - might hear. When you arrive from the house (he guessed you were cleaning up, just as you always do), he notes the skimpy length of your cotton shorts and…

Wait. Is that his shirt?

It is. It’s the very same shirt Din offered you after the rain debacle after the bar. It was one of his favorites despite how plain it was; just a grey t-shirt that fit snugly on him but dwarfed you entirely. It skimmed the top of your knees and pressed against the swell of your chest. That something within him growled once more.

“Come sit,” Will instructs, patting at his lap.

You hesitate. “I…”

Will chuckles, urging you with waggling fingers. “We’ve been like this since we were kids, Daffi. Come on.”

There’s a pathetic attempt to steady himself as Din watches you perch upon Will’s lap.

You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt. You’re wearing his shirt…

The group chats a while longer, exchanging stories Din’s never heard, but none of it matters. You’re on another man’s lap. And despite Mark’s very obvious presence, he wants so badly to grip your wrist and run.

“I’ve seen you before,” Will says suddenly. He points a finger in Din’s direction, eyes a little hooded from drink. “Weren’t you at the bar a couple of nights ago?”

Those who partook in the rendezvous go silent. Rhea freezes and Charlotte blanches, looking towards their dear sister who’s pale in the face now. Mark, in his sheer oblivion, raises a brow. Din’s been in every intense situation imaginable, but something about now makes his gut churn.

He could loose you. Right now.

He’s about to lie, to make up some bullshit excuse about having ‘one of those faces’, but Rhea pipes in.

Her voice is strong and firm when she says, “What the hell are you talking about? He wasn’t there.”

Effortless. Shoulders sag, the tension subsiding thanks to Rhea’s impeccable skill.

“Strange. Swore I saw you with…” he shakes his head and shrugs. “Never mind.”

An artificial laugh - so sickly sweet that it’s almost impossible to digest - escapes your lips. “You must’ve drank too much. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-

His kiss takes you by surprise.

You’re walking back to the house after the men have soiled the fire and everyone’s said their good nights when he just does it.

It’s covertly enough, but it’s shocking. A massive hand encircles your wrist and pulls you behind the shed out back, pressing you against the mossy wood and stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s the biggest risk the two of you have taken. For God’s sake, your father is just now walking inside the main house and Din’s mouth is attached to the hollow of your neck.

You’re dizzy, gripping his shoulders so tightly that the fabric of his shirt warps beneath your fingers. “Din,” you breathe out. He kisses you speechless again and you break for air. “Din, what’s the matter?”

He curses under his breath. It’s sharp. Fuck. It’s not angry, per say, but it is damaged. You weave your fingers through his hair as he settles his breathing, concentrating on the strings of your shorts that he fiddles with.

“I…” He sighs, pressing his nose against your cheek. His breath is warm and you shiver. “He touched you.”

He sounds ashamed. Embarrassed. You can’t imagine how difficult it must be to vocalize your self-doubt as someone who relishes in secrecy. He had a wall built around him and it was made of iron.

“Not like you,” you whisper shyly.

You had some walls of your own. He was tearing them down like that of Jericho.

There’s softness in the air. The two of you are silent, eyes closed, and mouths inches apart. Exchanging of breath. It’s an ancient form of intimacy.

You trust him. You trust him with your life.

His hand feels natural in your own as you lift it to your breast. The trembling of his fingers is almost endearing; the man was far older than you and he still shook at the mere touch of a woman.

“No one can touch me like you.” Your hands glide south, pressing underneath the fabric covering the raw parts of you, until you stop at the band of your panties. “No one can.”

It’s all he needs to hear.

Soon after, he kisses you fiercely, but not without nodding in agreement. And that very hand, which grazes so deliciously at your belly, finally dips.

Sparks.

[neverlandsky]

Kaz Brekker × Inej Ghafa

Undercover Ballroom AU

843 words || Warning: None

Set after Crooked Kingdom but AU where everyone is alive and happy. (because thats how its supposed to be coz no mourners, no funerals)

Plot: The main six are on a heist to steal a painting from a museum where a ball is held and they have to go undercover. (lies- the main plot is kanej content because i'm trash for them so its not really about the heist-)

All characters are from the Six of Crows duology. References to both the books and the show.

p.s. follow @mvrsecode on instagram <3

Kaz rested his hand on his cane and leaned on one of the pillars. His other hand beckoned Wylan to give him the bag the red-head was carrying.

"Alright here's Plan A. Wylan and Jes will be on-" Kaz started.

"Hey! You finally accepted my nickname," Jesper interrupted, giving a half-smile and fidgeting with his rings.

"Wylan and Jesper will be on the lookout from this roof and they will give us light signals by flickering a device Wylan made. Keep your eyes on the quarter point clockwise on the dome. You will be able to spot the blue light," he explained.

"However, also remember to always focus on your surroundings. The signal they'll give is important but do not act suspicious by constantly looking up. Someone else might spot it," Inej has become quite good at joining Kaz in his plan speeches. She was mostly there to remind the others to take care of themselves, something Kaz always forgot.

"Helvar will enter through the back door and clear our escape route. Make sure no one sees you, take a guard's uniform if you will. Nina will tag along the Ravka guests and into the ballroom. Let's hope the security system isn't counting faces. We need a heartrender inside for emergencies," Kaz wasn't always thorough with his explanation but this time he wouldn't risk it.

"Lastly, Inej and I will pose as the guests Nina put to sleep. When everyone else gets distracted on the main attraction, we will slip out through the open corridor right there and into the rest of the building. I'm sure they wouldn't think to look twice at a couple of kids messing around," Kaz finished and looked at each of them directly in the eye, as if asking if they understood.

Nina, however, knew it was just a display of intimidation. Kaz's heart was beating quickly, possibly because he has to dance with Inej but Nina smiled to herself. After all, Inej's heart was matching his. She smiled to herself, wondering when they would finally admit it, but again maybe she was just a romantic.

"No mourners," Jesper said.

"No funerals." Good luck would've been too much, they do not expect good luck. The least they could hope for is getting out of here alive.

Kaz handed Inej her dress. It would've been hard for her to scale walls if she was in a ball-gown, not that she couldn't do it. It was just impractical. The gown itself was ash blue in color. Kaz didn't know why he thought Inej would've liked it but the small smile on her face confirmed he was right.

Inej layered the dress on top of her black unitard and bulletproof fabric. It would've looked ridiculous if Kaz hadn't gotten the perfect gown. She strapped a dagger around her calf, under her dress. For emergencies, for Plan B and E.

"Good to know you still remember my size," Inej thanked him.

The plan was in motion now. Nina got in quite easily, she looked the part. She was beautiful and obviously charming. She could charm her way through anything. Inej and Kaz, however, was to play a harder role. Two criminals who lived in the streets of Ketterdam to play a rich, privileged couple. Eventually, the guards let them in, with the papers Jesper had gotten forged for them.

Everyone else was dancing. Even Nina had gotten herself a dance partner, a real person, not waffles. Matthias would've had to be restrained if he saw how this man was looking at his girl.

Inej took a deep breath and looked at Kaz, "We should probably-"

"Of course," he knew what she was going to say. They needed to fit in and so they did. Dancing wasn't really Kaz's forte but it was hers.

He offered his gloved hand and he wished he could hold her soft hands again but he couldn't risk fainting in the middle of a heist and compromising it. He could try holding her hands again another time.

Kaz's other arm was loosely wrapped around her waist. Their faces a bit too close. Nina could've heard their heartbeats from a mile away. Even Inej wouldve heard Kaz's heart if she wasn't too focused on her own.

"Are you alright?" Inej whispered. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"I'll be alright. It's you. I'm alright because its you," Kaz was being honest. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have been alright but it was Inej. He'll be alright. He was still wearing gloves anyways, there wasn't any skin-to-skin contact.

Maybe in another life, in another universe, they could've been in a ballroom as guests, dancing fully comfortable. Not on some heist trying to steal a one-of-a-kind painting worth millions of kruge. He could've held her hand and he would smile without a care. She wouldn't have to be cautious where her hand dropped and she could've rested her head on his shoulders. In another life but not this one. They were just thieves from Ketterdam trying to live better lives.

plus a random pic of them coz theyre so adorable-

[erenxneya]

It’s You.

Pairing: Armin Arlert x reader.

Warnings: angst, mentions of a suicide attempt, not proofread

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: I wrote this late at night yesterday (on Wattpad) so I apologize for any mistakes.

You're egocentric.

You only care about yourself. Selfish, even.

You don’t care about anything or one.

…do you?

...

You stood in front of the vivid ocean, such a bright color at nightfall. The sand felt warm under your feet despite the cold weather that was usually around during the night. The sky was a bright blue, the water matching in color.

Your bow moved up and down against the strings connected to the violin, an elegant melody emitting from it. You felt at comfort while battling the ocean, fighting over who can make a more peaceful sound. You were reaching the end of the song you played, the boy behind you letting out a small sigh. He watched you the whole time— from when you first began to play and now the end.

"Armin," You whispered as you played. His eyes opened— the same eyelids that were droopy from the late hour. He stood from the sandy bottom. The boy was beautifully shaded from the night sky— he looked too good to be real. A painting, even.

"Hm?" He responded, staring straight into the back of your head with pure admiration. Even amid your playing, you separated the bow from the violin and looked back at him.

"Do you feel safe?" You asked, your body fully turning towards him. In his eyes, you looked like a clear photograph. He would capture this moment if he could— you looked so... calm. He loved that about you— no matter what the situation, you always were tranquil.

"Yes, of course I do. Why wouldn't I?" He took a step closer, the sand beneath him crunching in the process. As he got a better look at you, he saw how your eyes looked sad. Despite your relaxed voice, you looked worried. You always did.

"...I heard it’s bad luck when I’m around," You gave him a light chuckle at the end, your arm falling to your side. You looked up at the sky as you felt your knees begin to feel weak.

"I guess we just weren't meant to meet."

"Wh-Why?" He almost shrieked. His arms flew up to his chest in a panic— he thought you were going to abandon him like you always did.

He was scared— scared of the things you do. You're known to be hidden— like every piece of information about you is just out of reach. You're so mysterious, but he likes that about you. You keep to yourself, but he wished you didn't. You scare him every day— he's scared of the outcome of your absentminded efforts.

Especially times like this, when you just stopped caring. Caring about what you say to others, that is. The words you speak leave such an impact on him that he wished he could tell you about, but he can't. He knows how much it would break you, telling you that you're in the wrong. He cares so much about you that it destroys everything around him.

So hearing this makes him break. It's like he's attached to you— you're his only thing left. He can't lose you now, what else would he do? Why weren't you both meant to meet? He thinks of it as an amazing coincidence to have met such a wonderful person.

"...Our relationship hurts, Armin," You muttered, ashamed of the words coming out of your mouth. You both are only friends in a one-sided relationship. It hurts you to see how much he cares for you, a waste of space, in your eyes. It hurts to see how devoted he is to you, how you can't do anything in return because you're too damn insecure about yourself that you don't want to leave a bad impression just because of the things you might say.

He stayed silent as you paused. The wind blew against you both, making you shiver quite a bit. You weren't sure why you were out here with him. You could've been doing better things, but you just care about him too much not to.

"It really does," You finally continued. "I don't know why we're still here together when we should be apart."

"S-So what are you trying to say?" He asked in worry— worry about the same abandonment he's feared ever since your relationship began. Maybe he's just too reliant on you. He loves you so much but you don't have a clue. It's becoming a toxic relationship— you're pushing him away only for him to come closer.

"I'm saying that we should stop being friends." You finished, your knees finally giving out. He was already an arm's length away from you, so he grabbed you to stop your fall, making your violin the only thing that hits the ground. You couldn't make eye contact with him. You couldn't see the sad blue eyes that were filled with complete sorrow that could make you tear up once you saw them. He had that sort of impact on you— the one only toxic relationships may have.

"What...? We... We are meant to be together!" He cried out, his voice slowly beginning to break as he whimpered. "You promised..."

"..." You were at a loss of words. What could you say that wouldn't hurt him even more than he already was? He held you so tightly yet so carefully like you were a fine porcelain doll— so fragile and soft, so hurting him like this would feel like he can break you in a million pieces.

"Go on, what are you so afraid of?" He suddenly yelled, his voice filled with such great distress. You could tell he was enraged— not with anger, but with sadness. You were his only friend since childhood, so talking to him about this was sure to make him feel some sort of sorrow.

"Just say what you think already, dammit...!"

"..." You still avoided eye contact with the blonde boy above you. It would break you too much to see the tears slowly falling from his canal. You even felt a small, cold droplet on your cheek, something that would've made you sob if you weren't so emotionally strong at the moment.

"...I don't want to hurt you," You finally responded in a hushed voice. You could hear the small sniffles emitting from his nose, the arm holding you up on your waist coming up to his eyes. He was gently holding your head in his palm as if you were a newborn baby, so fragile and precious to him.

"What, you don't think you already have?" He then bent down to the sand, your body following suit. He let you go, making you sit and look up at him. He was wiping his tears away with the bottom of his palms before he looked directly into your eyes with a small smile.

"It's alright. I'll do anything for you either way."

...

It's been another dreadful night since then. You've cut off almost all contact with him, the only exception being your phone's built-in messaging app. He only texted you one thing last night when you got home;

"I love you."

You don't know where the sudden rush of guilt and disgust came from, and you weren't happy about it. You were guilty of how much of an impact the simple phrase you said left on him, and disgusted how easy it would be for him to do anything for him. He was almost infatuated with you that it was disgusting.

You lie in bed— the same bed Armin would occasionally sleep with you in. The same bed you both would talk at night about your problems, about your emotions, and about your daily life. He never cared too much about himself to actually speak about it, but he was such a great listener and responder. He knew just the right words to say and when to say it— something you barely knew how to do. You were verbally impulsive and you knew it. He's told you himself, but you lashed out on him afterward. No matter how pissed-off you get at him— how much you verbally abuse him, he still comes racing back to you. But why?

You let a single sob mixed with a scoff come out from your mouth just thinking about him. You missed him, of course you did. You meant the things you said, though. It would be better for your mental health if he was truly gone from your life.

You rolled over on your side, your mind clouded with memories of the boy. It felt like a breakup and you hated it. But you hated how when he said I love you, you couldn't even respond. You're too careless about him. But you also want someone else— you know it would completely break his heart if he knew. You know he would never forgive you if he saw you smiling with someone else, something he never was able to make you do.

Maybe he scares you, too. You were scared of how generous he was. You hate him for it. You hate him. You hate him You hate him You hate him You hate him You hate him. You hate him so much but you're too needy for him. No, you're too needy for the comfort he's able to supply. The comfort you can't find unless he's near. You hate him so much that it eats up your insides. You hate him so much that it's probably the cause of your toxicity. You hate him for all of the positive things he does to you— that he does for you, that you could never bring yourself to give back because you're so damn selfish.

"That's probably why you're depressed," Armin said after hearing what's on your mind. "You think too toxic. It's hurting you and you know it. You're just too afraid to do something about it, right?"

He sat on your bed with his finger on his chin. You listened intently about what he had to say which was something you rarely did. He was making sense— you were quite the toxic one, and that's probably why you've been depressed for the past 3 years.

"It's probably the cause of your suicide attempt, too. You can't think straight, and that's what being toxic is doing to you. It's like a facade that's hiding the real you."

"We don't need to talk about that..." You muttered, but he shook his head.

"No, we do. F/n, you can't keep brushing things like this to the side. That's why you're still depressed after 3 whole years. I care about you so much, you know? I'd hate if keeping everything to yourself led to your end."

That's right. He cares for you so much that you're now filled with pure disgust. Why does he love you so much? However, your body is doing otherwise.

You grabbed your phone from your nightstand— the Notification Center still empty as usual. You weren't thinking straight— you opened Armin's messages and began typing. Why? You hate him. You shouldn't be wasting your time talking to him. But you do. You care for him. But you hate him.

You sighed, letting out a breath you seemed to be holding in before closing your phone once again and shutting your eyes. You feel at ease, like a heavy weight was just lifted off of your shoulders.

"I love you too."