#I'm just like... filled to the brim with feels that have nowhere to go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luimagines · 1 year ago

Note

I dare you to do one with your favorite trope to write (unless you've already done it)

Oh my goodness, this might be longer that usual. XD

And I really had to think about what I wanted to write. I think I'll make this a one-shot. (unless you guys want more anyway) Prepare for this to be as self indulgent as hell. :D

And I'll make it Time while I'm at it.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

This was the third time this week that you found something like this. You didn't know who was doing this.

A basket, filled to the brim with goodies and trinkets alike, sat properly outside of your window sill. It would be charming if you weren't on the third floor. Someone was climbing up to your balcony and leaving the baskets for you to find.

It was creepy- to a degree. There was never anything malicious about it though. The baskets typically held a flower, a warm meal (or groceries) and some little thing for you to put around your apartment.

You see, you moved to the Kingdom of Kokiri with nothing but a backpack and small child's wagon. Your apartment wasn't even on a nicer side of town. But it hard to be worried about robbers when you're home is bare and empty.

Slowly, that's been changing though. The baskets always had a poem attached, but no name. You secret admirer would give little things from time to time. The baskets are getting more frequent too.

What used to be a small monthly thing, turned weekly then bi weekly- and you're beginning to suspect that they're turning into a daily thing.

Part of you worries that whoever this is, is spending too much on you.

But seeing that the last basket had a new set of dining wear with plates and cups and a some nice utensils to match- you're not inclined to have them stop anytime soon when they're improve your very living conditions as it is. Even if you feel a little guilty.

That being said, this basket had a warm meal already prepared, still steaming in the glass tupperware. There was a small bouquet of roses near the top and a small little box that you opened to see a single slice of chocolate cake.

The card was attached on the inside but it lacked the typical poem. It simple read: "Rest well, Love. You've worked hard today. Dinner's on me. I just want to see you smile in the morning."

You smiles and tucked the card back into its place, bringing the basket back into your apartment.

You have to figure out who this secret admirer of yours is. It has to be someone with access to your floor but it can't be a neighbor. Right? You're on the corner so it can't be anyone to your left. But maybe your neighbor to the right? That's a creepy thought. You hardy ever see him and you don't think he showers throughout the week.

It can't be him. Or at least you're going to deny it.

Maybe it's someone from above? That's more likely. There is this cute guy that you know lives on the floor above you, but you don't know which apartment. It wouldn't be hard to drop the basket secretively onto your balcony from above if that was the case.

The thought rotates in your head as you eat the food. It's delicious. Decadent, even.

Gratitude fills your heart and soul. you have to return the favor somehow after everything this person has provided for you. But how?

You head to bed with a smile on your face and a full stomach. You'll have to start small but you can think of something.

The next morning you head to the castle and walk straight to the throne room.

It was a deal that the king had proposed personally to you. You get to work concern free in his kingdom but you have to report to him every other Tuesday. Seeing as you had nowhere else to go, you didn't think it wise to refuse.

You've grown somewhat close, but with his power and status by his side, you couldn't help but slightly intimidated by him even now.

The king- like most Royals of Kingdoms of Hyrule- was a dragon. Sure, he could take the form of a typical man, but he stayed in his half form more often than not. His age and strength add to his credentials. As the current senior amongst dragons, all you've gathered is that he's lived longer than he appears. The older the dragon, the stronger they are.

King Link is a force to be reckoned with.

However, he's kind and patient with you. He's not all that bad.

You nod and grin at the Captain, who's affectionately called Warrior. Another dragon hidden among the people. You don't know his story, but he's a hard working fellow. He also came to the king in a time of need, looking for asylum and has been working under his employ ever since. He is the king's right hand man.

Warrior smiles back and salutes you softly as you enter. You'll never understand why you've more or less been given free reign of the castle, but with his approval, you feel better to head on in.

You meet the king and curtsy clumsily, still feeling rushed. He's asked you call him Time and he stands from the throne. His face is kind, amused even. A chuckle tumbles out of him as he walks toward you, his marble like tail swinging behind him. "I thought we were passed the formalities, my dear."

You clear your throat. "Were we? I don't recall."

He laughs again. "Come. We have much to discuss."

You nod and follow. He leads you to the back room with a gentle touch the small of your back. It's a familiar routine that you've grown comfortable with.

There's a small rounded table with a pale blue laced table cloth. There's a delicate tea set and it's covered to the brim with snacks and treats alike. You think you see a few of your favorites and your eyes light up at the sight.

King Time notices and he smiles, pleased. "Sit."

You nod and take your usual spot. Time sits across from you and serves you the pieces that you eyes earlier. You almost feel bad. You're still full from the night before.

Time notices. "Something wrong, dear?"

"No." You shake your head, afraid of insulting him. "Someone gave me dinner last night and I'm still a bit full from it."

Time seemed to be shocked by the tidbit. "Really?... Was it good?"

"It was delicious!" You can't help but gush. "I would normally cook for myself but they send food from time to time and it was still warm so I couldn't resist."

His smile turns a little tight. "Is that so? I'm glad that you were fed adequately then.... May I ask who?"

You falter, the smile on your face turning more soft and shy. "Um... I think it was my neighbor..."

"...You don't know who it is?"

You blush and look down onto the table, playing with the treats on your plate. "I know that I should be more cautious. But they've only ever left it on my balcony... It's a secret admirer so to speak. They've given me trinkets and flowers and food. It seems as if they've slowly been furnishing my house for me. I don't know... I've been trying to think about who it may be, but I'm coming up short. Regardless, enough about my lack of love life-"

Time abruptly puts his hand under the table but you catch the reason why before he can hide it.

He's bent the fork in half with his hand, seemingly without realizing it. He smiles brightly, as if nothing happened and the thought gets put on the back burner for now. "Right... Well, you can always ask for my assistance, Darling."

You shake your head with a small smile. "Thank you, but I'm here to report my work. Let's get to business then."

Time clenches his jaw slightly but nods in agreement. "Right. I believe last time you mentioned that you were following a trail of some suspicious individuals on the property of the farm lands for relief efforts. Did that bloom into anything substantial?"

You pull out a manila folder with a smirk and hand it to the king. "Did it ever."

The time passes before you know it. Little by little, as you give your report, if drifts away and you're talking about your lives as much as you can before you leave.

Warrior comes in, informing Time of another meeting has to attend. He looks apologetic.

The king winces but you're quick to stand up, mid panic. "I'm sorry. I've overstayed my welcome."

"Impossible." Time blurts, standing abruptly as well. He reach out as if to stop you and moves around the table as if to block your path. His tail curls around your ankle, stopping your in your tracks. It's gentle but firm. Even if his grip is painless, you can already tell that you wouldn't be able to escape on your own.

You freeze and after a beat he lets you go. Time gulps and stands, seemingly more aware of what he was doing. His grip falls away and he takes a step back. "R-right... I won't keep you from your work much longer then."

You can't help but blush. He's always been fine with putting a hand on your shoulder or your back... but the tail is one of the most sensitive parts of a dragon. And he just grabbed you with it. For some reason, you find yourself blushing.

You nod dumbly, as if your schedule is jammed packed like his. Your heart is pounding. You follow Warrior out of the room as he leads you back to the main gate of the castle.

"Sorry." Warrior says quietly. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Nonono-" You're still shaken by the phantom feelings of the scales around you. Even if it was just a brush, there was a power there. You don't know why you're so out of whack suddenly. The act was more intimate than you were able to admit. "If you didn't say anything, I would have kept going. Honestly, I swear he's just humoring most of the time."

"This is the only time we get him to actually take a break." Warrior tells you. "He'd work himself t the bone if it weren't for you. It's not like he can't afford it. He's two years ahead of his work. By all means, keep him there longer."

You flush and look away, walking out of the gate. "Oh please, he'll get sick of me before we'd know it."

Warrior is quick to bite his tongue, biting back the instant retort that no doubt sat on his tongue. He takes a breath and shakes his head.

"...He likes you." Warrior looks pained. Like there's something there that he wants to say but can't. You don't see it. "Would you like me to walk you home? If I recall you live far enough away-"

"Not enough to cause concern, Captain." You smile and pat his shoulder. "But thank you."

"His Majesty wouldn't like it if anything happened to you." Warrior tries to push it a little bit.

You shake you head. "And take more of your time away? You work just as hard, if not harder, than the entirety of the castle staff. I think only the King works harder than you."

He presses his lips into a thin line. His own scales poke from under his skin. Something is riling him up but you don't know what. You've never seen his dragon form or even his half. He seems to hide it more often than not. You would never know he was a dragon if the King hadn't said anything earlier.

Warrior sighs and runs his hands through his hair. "Very well... Just... be safe, yeah? I don't think the goddesses themselves would be able to calm the king should things go wrong."

"Like what?" You snort. "I end up in the hospital? I'll be fine. No worries."

You wink for good measure and head home, happy, fulfilled and ready to take on the rest of the week.

You miss the next three visits.

Part 2

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idorukiss · 3 months ago

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Heres a sorta drabble/headcanon of sorts of how I picture MC's relationship with Rafayel would devleop~ I'm not much of a writer but the brainrot is real and im working on making similar ones for the other boys too!

1,051 words || You can also read it on ao3

‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙⁺˚･༓･˚⁺‧͙ Xavier ・ Zayne ・ Sylus

There have been many different things in Rafayel's life that inspired him when it comes to his art, But nothing took control of his heart so intensely as much as you have. Like a whirlpool you shook him to his core from that first meeting, and all he wants to do is capture you on his canvas for eternity.

It really was quite the blessing with how willing you were to become his bodyguard- not only can he keep you within arms reach but you can also protect him from all the shady people after his life. Like killing 2 birds with one stone, except you were so much stronger and beautiful than any stone he’s ever set eyes on before

He absolutely felt like a flirt to you at the start with all of the compliments and casual physical touch between you guys, He just loved to say how amazing you are while enclosing you in a deep bear hug. It was strange at first you'd admit, but it never felt like he was trying to make any passes at you or act like he was expecting anything in return. Perhaps that's just how he acts with people he trusts?

When Rafayel isnt painting, you two spend a lot of time outside finding inspiration all around. He usually has a sketchbook with him scribbling away anytime he sees something interesting- the landscapes, pretty flowers, or even a parfait you guys got to share. You’ve seen some of these sketches as he works on them, it always amazes you how much detail he can capture with so few lines.

He never let you fully flip through the sketchbook however, claiming all sorts of reasons why, like that the drawings were scared of the sunlight or you had to go through many trials to be worthy. It was obvious how much he cherished it and you respected his wishes, though it would be nice to reminisce on some of the good times you guys had together again. Though its not like your phone wasn't filled to the brim with photos already

Late one night, you stop by his place to make sure he didn't need any motivation to finish a painting for a deadline set the next morning. You have confidence he could make it in time, he always did, but you want to help him as best as you can otherwise. When you arrive you spot a stunning completed painting and a Rafayel sleeping on the sofa below it- both stunning as they're illuminated by the moonlight.

Taking it upon yourself to clean up his supplies a little, just enough to not be a walking hazard of course, you spot his precious travel sketchbook on the floor. Surely he wouldn't mind if you took a little peak in it, you'd love to see how he finished the last landscape you guys saw before he locked himself up to work. As you flip through the pages you see so many familiar sights from your time together so far, but scattered around them filling maybe even more pages was many drawings of a person. Of you. All surrounded by hearts and little notes about things you've said.

When did he have a chance to draw all of these? Is this how you look to him?? Questions race your mind as your face flushes at the image of him intensely scribbling in the sketchbook as you dance around the beach being dumb. You decide to grab a pencil and add your attempt of a sketch of him in the back, signing it with a little heart of your own. It’s nowhere near his skill level but something that captures how you feel, and maybe he would get a chuckle out of it once he spots it.

You don’t realize when the casual acts of affection he started out with turn slightly more romantic- going from linking arms together to holding your hand, and you swear you feel him press little kisses on the top of your head every time he wraps his arms around you. But you don't hate it, in fact it makes your heart flutter every time you realize it

Rafayel often messages you at the most random times to meet him somewhere, usually it was because he found a stunning view and wanted to share the experience with you. Sometimes he would even show up at your apartment to whisk you away, and every time it filled you with joy. These dates and every moment you get to spend with him fill your heart with so much warmth.

One particularly warm night you were woken up by a call inviting you to the beach near his studio. It was worth crawling out of the bed at an ungodly hour, not only for the view but for him. While you were admiring the waves, he couldn't keep his eyes off you as a cautious pinky is hooked around yours. Two faces flush as you look at him, it lasts for only a moment before its interrupted by your watch.

Your face falls as you read the notification “It looks like I got a last minute mission in the morning…I guess this means I have to head back already.” As you take a heavy step to start walking away he reaches out to stop you with a pleading look on his face “Wait, don’t go yet” “Rafayel…. I’m sorry, I really am. This night- everything was wonderful, it really was” “Can’t you just stay the night?” He wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your neck “Please just stay the night, I don’t want you to leave.” Your heart flutters as you wrap your arms around him in return “Okay, I’ll stay for you my sweet painter”

He is the most clingy man you’ve ever met, constantly torn between wrapping himself around you while peppering every inch of skin with kisses and diving headfirst into hundreds of paintings with you as his muse. His studio would be covered in nothing but paintings of you if he didn't have to focus on his commissions.

He sculpted out a place in your heart that held him, and in turn you've devoted yourself to him- loving him with every fiber of your being

#love and deepspace #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel l&ds #rafayel lads #irodruwrite #just sylus next before i can move onto the next lil series of drabbles teehee #budding relationships

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akaakeis · 5 months ago

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room for you -- oikawa t.

synopsis :: you and tooru oikawa have a history. you're known each other for over a decade. as he outgrew sendai, you got left behind while he took leaps and bounds forward, moving to argentina. when you're already a university student, the two of you end up getting back in touch.

wc :: 1936.ᐟ

gn!reader x oikawa tooru (2nd person)

notes//cw :: named after and inspired by 'room for you' by grentperez + lyn lapid,, im so projecting onto the reader like they are literally me,, fic follows you from elementary -> junior high -> high school -> university (just in little snippets, nothing too long!!),, the school system in this is some kind of japanese school system mixed with the american school system,, kinda hurt/comfort(?) im not even sure if this qualifies actually,, fluffy end <3

a playground. it's filled to the brim with little kids, hanging from the monkey bars and sliding headfirst down the slide. yet here you are, sitting on the sidelines, cross-legged on the sidewalk as you twirl a piece of sidewalk chalk in your little hands. you're alone- till you're not. the sound of quick, loud steps, followed by a final huff, draws you out of your distracted state. the smallest gust of wind blows your hair away from your face as someone drops to the ground to sit next to you.

"heya, i'm tooru. why're you all alone? whatcha doing?" his eyes dart all over your face excitedly. it doesn't seem like he minds the fact that you didn't answer his questions. he finally glances down at the sidewalk below him and is absolutely fascinated with your chalk drawings. he looks at both you and your drawings with childlike wonder. you can't help but wonder why he came up to you, but you're glad that he did.

that was 14 years ago.

a full cafeteria sits in front of you, tables shoved full with kids. it's loud and overstimulating to be there, especially when you have nowhere to be sitting. junior high students rowdily chatter as they mow through their lunches and head outside to play. it's almost as if you're watching a movie play out in front of you as people keep moving about the cafeteria- until you hear a voice call out for you, pulling you out of your daze.

"hey!! over here!" tooru calls out, waving you over to his lunch table. he has a wide grin on his face as he beckons you over. when you get over to the table, he casually slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you to sit down at the table with him and his friends. maybe junior high wasn't going to be so bad, after all. now you had a friend group, no?

"you fit right in!" tooru comments, nudging you as he laughs. truth be told, it's relieving to hear him say that. you could get used to this.

that was 7 years ago.

aoba johsai's gym. tooru's first high school volleyball match is going on right in front of you. it's amazing, the way that his serves spin across the net with such force. he plays with such agility and honed skill, and it leaves you in awe. the game wraps up quickly- practically in the blink of an eye. when he runs off of the court, you're the first person he comes up to. he jogs to you happily, beaming with excitement.

"how'd i do? did you see all my serves??" he asks, looking at you expectantly. he's very proud of how the game went.

"you did great!" you reply back, just as excited as he is.

after the gym is cleaned up, you accompany the team to a nearby restaurant for a celebratory dinner. it's a walk, with the silence being filled by tooru and hajime's endless banter. this is comfortable. everything feels right, in this moment. as you walk in silence, listening in on hajime and oikawa's latest disagreement, you can't help but reflect on what you saw at the game. tooru was already playing so well. was it wrong to feel like you were getting left behind? to fear that he would leave you behind sooner or later?

that was 5 years ago.

seijoh's auditorium. it's now filled with rows of students, ranging from 1st to 3rd years. it's your- it's all of the 3rd years' ending credits. it's all happening too fast. as you hear your name called out, it echos and rings through the auditorium. you automatically fall out of the line of students, and you receive your diploma, bowing to the principal and thanking him. then, you quickly head back to your spot in line. this was really it. it was weird, but it didn't make you feel any certain way. that was, until you heard the principal call out another name.

"oikawa tooru." you pause. all of a sudden, your heart ached. it was truly sinking in, how momentous of an occasion this was, whether it was for better or for worse. as tooru made his way to the front of the auditorium, you found your eyes gravitated to him as he walked. he glanced towards you and flashed a brief smile. he walked up to the principal, receiving his diploma with a bow and a "thank you." this was actually happening. it wasn't something incomprehensible that you would always be working towards. you had truly completed high school, and that was it. you could feel your heart twisting in your chest as he walked back to his spot in line, waving his diploma at you for a moment and grinning. you muster a smile back to him.

you get a bad feeling about this. what if this is it? what if you never see each other again after this? of course, tooru isn't some mindreader, though. he has no idea you're feeling that way- he's completely clueless. you're probably just getting into your head about it, though. of course you guys would see one another, again. after all, the two of you had plans to go to the same university, anyway.

that was 3 years ago.

a phone is being held in front of your face. argentina national team, it says on the screen. is this some kind of joke? what about all the plans you had made with him? he's definitely joking... but his face betrays that idea. he looks dead serious about this, but at the sane time, he looks so excited. that means you have to be happy for them, no matter how much you feel like going home to process the grief you're now going through.

"oh, wow..." you manage to choke out. "argentina." where even is that? it's sure as hell not close.

"yeah!" he says excitedly. "isn't that cool?" it's like he's forgotten about all the plans the two of you had made. how disappointing.

you nod slightly, mustering up a happy reply. it sounds forced. "yeah, it's super cool! when are you leaving, then?"

"umm... in a week! and we can stay in touch for sure! i'll message you as soon as i land, and then we can call at night!" he says, shutting off his phone and pocketing it as he looks at you, his ever-excited face still apparent. you need to match his energy- you wouldn't want to ruin the excitement of this moment for him, of course.

"totally!" you reply, smiling back at him. you're excited for him, but admittedly, you felt a little worried over being left behind. what would happen from here?

that was 1 year ago.

after tooru left for argentina, he stayed true to his promise. he texted you once he landed, and he called you every night- for a while at least. then the calls started coming less...

and less...

till they altogether stopped.

it only took 2 months for the calls to stop coming. not to mention, when you'd try to call, he'd answer, but he would only say he's busy and would talk to you later. you would be lying if you said you didn't get what could have caused it, though. for one thing, he's now committed to a national level volleyball team. the two of you are also 12 hours apart, time wise. it really does make sense why the calls stopped, but you just can't wrap your head around it. the two of you have been friends since 1st grade, so how could your relationship be falling apart so easily?

you missed him- you missed talking to him, too.

that was 10 months ago.

now, you sit in your university dorm, watching the computer screen in front of you as it plays a live volleyball game: argentina vs. japan. there were a couple familiar faces- amongst them, of course, being tooru. it felt weird, seeing him like this. it was like you had never known each other, seeing the game from here.

you wonder how he is. he was so enamored with the idea of being a part of a national team. he truly put in an effort to become as good as he is now. you miss him. you resent him for leaving you behind. hopefully, he's okay, though. you still care about him.

the volleyball game comes to a close after long struggle, with japan coming out on top. hours pass as you sit in your dorm room, wasting time with multiple activities. the day feels so slow.

bzzt—

your phone rings, but quickly stops. you pick up your phone and check where the call was from. it was from tooru, and it was followed by a text that read, "oops sorry." you text back a "you're fine dw" and then put down your phone with a sigh, only for your phone to buzz again. tooru texts you again, asking how you are.

soon enough, a conversation starts as the two of you continue to text back and forth. tooru calls you, explaining, "i figured if we were gonna continue talking... we should just call, right?" he pauses for a moment. "ah- and i'm sorry.. for not talking to you for a while. i don't have any excuse... i just stopped."

your heart twists in your chest. "...it's fine, don't worry. i get it. you're busy." you reply, picking at the sides of your phone case. it hurt to know he didn't even have a reason to stop talking to you,

"no... seriously. i'm sorry." tooru continues, "it won't happen again. i've missed you a lot."

"i missed you too," you reply simply. "i just wish you were still here, y'know? ...i saw your game against japan. you guys did really good. your serves have improved since high school, tooru," you add, feeling slightly better.

"yeah, i've been missing sendai, seriously." he sighs. "and why the hell did you not tell me they tore down the old house?" he groans. "our precious meet up spot..."

you laugh softly. "i figured it would only make you upset. but hey, we can make a new meet up spot. that old house was so school days," you reply, a joking lilt in your voice.

"yeah, you're right," he replies, laughing. "sorry, i won't have time to meet up this time, though. i'll make time next time i'm here visiting, promise."

you smile slightly, still picking at the sides of your phone case. "alright, that sounds good."

"and... hey," he says, his voice softer.

"hm?"

"you know i'll always make time for you, right? there's always room for you," he says, your name following. it rolls off his tongue effortlessly. you've always adored the way he says your name. it felt comforting.

his words make you freeze up for a moment as you process what he just told you. "...thanks, tooru. i hope you know i will too. there's always room for you," you echo, a smile gracing your features as you realize- maybe your relationship didn't fall apart at all. after all, the relationships that have stood the test of time are usually the strongest, no? distance is just another obstacle for the two of you to overcome together.

while you two may not be fortunate enough to live near one another, neither of you will let physical distance be the reason your relationship fails. the two of you will always have room for each other inside of your hearts.

notes ::

₊ ⊹ guys im gonna be honest w u i heavily fw this fic

₊ ⊹ i hope u guys feel the same way <3

₊ ⊹ I WAS SO CLOSE TO 2K WORDS ON THIS DAMN IT

₊ ⊹ i feel like i get all my fic plot ideas from music i listen to... pls forgive me for that i can't help it

₊ ⊹ idk what this fic genre would be classified as? but i really enjoyed writing it

₊ ⊹ i was on a plane when i wrote this i was SO locked in

₊ ⊹ i also wrote some of this in a car and i got so sick... that was not demure!!!

₊ ⊹ oh and not proofread are we surprised! let me know if u find any glaring grammar or spelling mistakes PLEASE

₊ ⊹ i'm so tired it's like 3 something itm in my timezone... if u see formatting issues thats why probably??? idk my vision is blurry rn

₊ ⊹ any other works can be found on my masterlist!

🏷️ (sorry for the random tags.. i just really really like this one </3) :: @bokukos ,, @iiwaijime ,, @hatsukeii ,, @causenessus ,, @kuroppiii <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #dividers by @/plutism #GOOD NIGHT #I CANT SEE STRAIGHT OMF #omori's sketchbook.

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runningfrom2am · 5 months ago

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michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write.

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

#michigan cherry !#billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy bonney #billy the kid #william bonney x you #william h bonney x you #william h bonney x reader #william bonney x reader #william bonney #william h bonney #tom blyth fic #tom blyth #billy the kid 2022 #tom blyth x reader

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plaidos · 2 months ago

Note

PZ girlie here again bc so far none of my friends have taken the bait and thus I have nowhere to celebrate my progress:

I've managed to survive more than a week in one go! I can take on groups of 5-10 zombies now without too much trouble, as long as I manage to keep myself from getting surrounded. my favorite weapon is the pipe wrench, though the baseball bat has also been really useful. I have yet to fire a gun, and I feel like I'm probably going to keep it that way since they attract SO much attention.

My next issue is finding a permanent base: I've been doing a really nomadic thing so far, moving from house to house and then finding a place to crash when I need to sleep. One playthrough I made the mistake of walking out to the countryside with no car and even though I was surviving okay I got so bored that I found the biggest group of zombies I could and ended the run early. any base suggestions for muldraugh or rosewood?

boy do i have incredibly good base suggestions for specifically muldraugh and rosewood!!!

in Rosewood check out the fire station in the south. it’s got everything a prospective base needs — two floors ✅ built-in kitchen with oven ✅ plenty of storage space ✅ dual garage ✅ it’s in the safest spot in Rosewood imo (there’s an open field across the street perfect for farming) and it’s literally across the road from the police station which should be filled to the brim with guns to steal, and police batons if you don’t wanna fire a bullet. it’s also near a residential area so it’s already blocked off by a big fence from most angles, it’s very easy to fence off this courtyard-like parking lot outside the front, plus it’ll have a ton of fireman clothes which are really tough & provide a lot of protection and if you run out you can always take a trip into town for long enough for zombies to respawn back near the fire department for infinite fire helmets/axes/etc

Muldraugh is definitely a tougher start for a newer player but the Mass Gen Fac Co warehouse building on the north side of town. it has THREE floors (technically four if you build a staircase up to put rain collectors over the stairwell, which i have) one of which is just fully outside and you can FARM THINGS FROM THE ROOF!!! it’s literally packed to the brim with the biggest storage containers in the game and they’re almost all full of useful tools etc. it also has a dual garage & a parking lot, but the only downside is no oven so you’re gonna have to go find some houses nearby to cook or if you’re my friend @quantumshade you’ll disassemble 100 digital watches until you can move an oven into the base.

good luck!!!

#project zomboid

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arcadia-of-pluto · 4 months ago

Text

Twist of Fate; Twenty-One

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 3,309

Themes; isekai, slow-burn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Rating; 18+ for swearing and mature themes

Notes; I would apologize for taking so long (both for this update and for Foreseer going on too long–), but I'm tired of doing that so just buckle up because Foreseer Zayne is still on-going! I haven't really felt like writing or doing anything lately, so I'm still only on chapter 23 so the chapters might be a bit slower to drop. I'm doing all I can, but I only feel like writing when I feel like it so– I'll get back to it soon!

As much as I love writing for LADS, I have so many original story ideas and if I ever start writing them, I'd love to post them here. I'm just not sure how well original content would go on Tumblr tbh? I'm sure yall will grow tired of isekai content, but I have so many original ideas for stuff like that. Like seriously– I could count at least five in my Google docs! But I also have a few non-isekai ideas, like a possible miraculous ladybug type idea (with superheros and the hidden identity trope), a game of thrones type of story with my own set of gods and goddesses (I came up with it in the 11th grade and I'm desperate for people to know about it, it makes me so mf happy)...I could go on and on about it tbh but I'll just say more about it after the chapter is done since I don't want to clog this section up too much! <3

Enjoy this chapter of ToF!

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

Under your care, the jasmine bud grows bigger and bigger by the day. You’re happy, but also a bit nervous. According to your expertise, the jasmine will bloom in less than a week…That means you don’t have much time. You’ve also learned that, other than reading and checking on the jasmine, the Foreseer stays at a location hidden behind an ordinary door in the basement.

What does he do in there? Is the Creatio protocore’s location perhaps…

When the Foreseer disappears behind the door again, you pretend to lose your way and follow after him. What greets you is unbelievable, a sight to behold. Behind that door is a library, the ceiling nowhere to be found. Bookshelves stretch as far as the eye can see.

“Huh…Does the Foreseer obtain his books from here? How can he find anything in this place? I don’t even know where he is…” Your mumbles activate some sort of switch, ice materializes beneath your feet and carries you into the air. “Wha–” You’re in disbelief. “...I guess the mystery of how he acquires his books has been solved.”

You feel as if you are lost in a sea of books, for shelf after shelf is filled to the brim with them. The ice stops in front of a bookshelf. You’re a good distance off the ground. “Where is he…” You mutter to yourself, struggling against the ice that held you in place. You sigh and decide to make the most of your time, reaching out to carefully grab the book that’s right in front of you.

Its title is Philos: Floral Inquiry.

Philos? Was every single male lead from Philos?

You open the book and see the pages about jasmines have been read the most. “Jasmines again…Why is this flower important to him? Is it just because he wants the one atop the Tower to bloom?” Reading the notes, you try to piece together an answer.

When you turn to the title page, there is a single word on it: Zayne.

“Zayne…? Who is this Zayne?”

While this version of you would clearly be confused, you were not. You were more shocked that he had the same name in this life as well.

You’re not sure what you expected, but you assumed he’d be called the Foreseer until the end of your dream…

“He is the person you seek.”

In your surprise, you fumble with the book in your hands and turn around. On a platform of ice, the Foreseer stands behind you. His steadfast gaze sends a chill down your spine.

“I had no intention of intruding, Foreseer. The ice clearly kidnapped me–”

“Are you claiming the frost coerced you?” He raises an eyebrow and you take a step back, forgetting that you’re standing on a sheet of ice. Your foot touches nothing.

“W-Woah! Help!” You windmill your arms in the air to stop yourself from falling, but it doesn’t help much. In a moment, you go from descending to being caught in the air.

“Expressing your regret does not require theatrics.”

“...Are you mocking me? I find that hard to believe.” You look up at him with a frown and his eyes, their depths seemingly immeasurable, are close to your face.

The Foreseer carries you to the ground with your heart pounding in your chest.

Was it hot in this room?

Yeah…That’s the reasoning behind your reddened cheeks.

You come to your senses and quickly lower your head. “You…can let me go now. It was good that you were present. It must be dangerous to acquire your books like this.”

“Likewise, ‘tis dangerous to push one’s duty onto others.” He still hadn’t put you down yet.

“Others..?” An ice cluster appears in front of you and slowly spins. “The ice at my feet…Is this its original form? Are you its creator?”

“‘Twas not the work of magic, but a phantasm.” The Foreseer taps the ice cluster. “Carrying her to the higher shelves without a reason was your doing. Am I wrong?”

He’s…talking to the ice?

It unfurls and blooms like jasmine, ice particles ripping around you both.

“Does it understand our language?” You ask, once he finally sets you down.

“We are like-minded in our distaste for lies.”

Well…that doesn’t answer your question.

Though part of you is still in disbelief, the Foreseer’s spells and this library’s very existence are starting to convince you that what you’ve experienced is real.

“My apologies…I snuck in because I wanted to know what you did here. The ice heard me talking to myself, so it flew me up there.” You look down and the phantasmal jasmine runs circles around you before leaping into your hand.

“...Your forgiveness is boundless, for better or worse.”

“So…it accepts my apology?” Ice gathers under you again, and it lifts you into the air. You stumble, about to fall again.

Yet another piece of ice appears beneath your foot, steadying you. Curious, you take another step. Regardless of the direction you take, ice forms beneath you. You walk around, excitement in every step.

It’s…so fascinating.

It’s like having a platform at your command.

“Incredible! It knows what I’m about to do.” You clap your hands together with a gleeful smile.

“The individual subconscious is also a form of energy. It can sense even the smallest of changes.” The Foreseer is still as curt as ever.

“Oh!” You look down at him as you smile. “May I name it Jas? It was reminiscent of jasmine when it unfurled.”

“You and the phantasm should decide. I am but a witness.” You stop before the Foreseer. With your icy platform, you can look him straight in the eye.

“Then may I…call you Zayne?”

With a piercing gaze, he stares at you and you stumble over your words. “A…name defines a person. ‘Tis important, I would think.”

You are unable to read his expression.

“Do what you must.”

You mutter his name under your breath a few times in front of the mirror in your dimly lit room. All your mind can focus on is him in the library, watching you scurry about.

“I encroached on his territory by sneaking into the library…Why didn’t he lash out? Does he perhaps trust me now?” The icy marks on your chest are reflected in the mirror, tendrils spreading and twisting, approaching your collarbone.

Your time is nearing its end. At this time, an idea presents itself.

Since Jas took you to the Foreseer in the library, could you also use it to obtain the Creatio protocore?

“Jas…Are you here?” You call out to it. The sound of swirling ice reverberates in the air. The cluster of ice manifests and makes an arc in the air to greet you.

“You’re here!” You smile at it before clearing your throat, “Jas, I…I have a request. Could you take me to the Foreseer’s scepter?”

The phantasm stops moving. By Astra’s eyes…Does Jas know of your true purpose?

“I wish to–”

Before you can fully explain yourself, Jas expands and lunges at you.

…Are you destined to perish in the cold?

Before you could utter a scream, you realize the crystals phased through your body. There is only darkness. The faint sound of running water catches your attention.

Where…are you?

A distance away, you can make out an indigo spark. That’s…surely the Creatio protocore.

So Jas really did listen to you! As the light is within your reach, you take note of your surroundings.

Oh…

Steam escapes from behind a dark-coloured curtain. Moonlight shines through the window, landing on Zayne’s shoulders and revealing the drops of water running along his back.

Oh my…Wait, why were you brought to his bedchamber? Shit, you’ve got to get out of there before he notices.

You hold your breath and take one step back…Your foot bumps into something and makes a barely audible noise, but Zayne turns around and your gazes meet.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you! But I swear on my name that Jas brought me here..”

Maybe the turmoil in your mind is playing tricks on you, but Zayne is unperturbed. With the slight curl of his finger, the steam around us turns into a white cloth that hangs around his waist.

And with another wave of his hand, an unseen force pulls you in his direction. You stand before him, doing your best to look him in the eyes.

“What brings you here?” His hair, his face, his chest– all wet from the water– You are unable to avert your gaze, and you feel a rising heat on your face.

But what is more astounding is the number of scars etched on Zayne’s body.

“I thought the jasmine was about to bloom…I was unaware you were bathing!” Having coughed up a pitiful excuse, you close your eyes in embarrassment. You sense the invisible force is gone and when you open your eyes, Zayne is putting on his robes.

“No one could have predicted Jas to be unwavering in its loyalty to you. However, I expected as much. It knows only of us, thus it considers you a friend.”

Aww...That’s really sweet!

Wait—

“Are you going to punish Jas? It only indulged in my whimsy…”

“Should I punish you instead?” Zayne’s unwavering gaze meets your eyes.

“If the jasmine meets something terrible as I sit in an icy prison for three days and three nights…”

“Worry not, punishment awaits.”

Huh?

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him. “What do you mean? Are you going to kill me after the jasmine blooms?”

“...Is a horrible death the only consequence you can think of? I have no interest in taking the life of another.”

“Is it for this reason you will let me leave?” Your head tilts to the side and Zayne turns his head to look away from you. “You should decide that for yourself.” With a wave of his hand, you are pushed out of his bedchamber by an unseen force.

After another few days of deliberating on what to do next, you take a few notes. Zayne will catch you if you are anywhere near the Creatio protocore…and the more you learn about Zayne, the greater the mystery enshrouding him.

Those scars etched into his flesh. It seems like…he was stabbed in the past. Yet no one else lives in this Tower.

How could he have been wounded? He is also blessed by Astra. Who could be powerful enough to injure him?

But…more importantly, why would Astra allow His follower to become injured?

Your curiosity extends beyond your current relationship. In other words…You will never be given an answer.

The very next day, you visit the library at midnight. Jas takes you to the same shelf that has Philos: Floral Inquiry.

“Is Zayne always reading this book?”

Everything…seems to be connected to the jasmine flower.

You open the book and study the text, paying special attention to the pages with notes left by Zayne.

“ ‘Once again, jasmine appears…’ How is it related to all of this?” You read his note out loud, and responding to your voice, the pages begin to glow. “What…is happening!?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as a bright light shines in front of you.

When your vision returns, you find yourself in a sea of white flowers. The sun’s golden rays shine across the field of jasmines. Except the flowers that aren’t in bloom. They are all flower buds.

Nearby, a familiar figure, its watcher you presume, observes this field. “Huh– Zayne? Why are you here? Where are we?”

You slowly walk in his direction, running your hands through your hair.

What was this?? A dream within a dream or something?

Zayne turns to look at you, confusion in his expression. “Have we met before?”

“Um..”

“Who are you?”

As you approach him, you realize his body is but a mirage. Sunlight passes through his robes. His appearance is that of Zayne’s, but he lacks the Foreseer’s frigid character.

“Through what means did you enter this place?”

Well, whatever he was, this version of Zayne seems to be the most similar to your Zayne, so you didn’t want to give him too difficult of a time.

“I was just reading a…Huh. Am I in the book?” You bring your hand up to your chin to think, but Zayne speaks once more, “You stand in an illusion crafted by words and words alone.”

“Then what are you?”

A corner of his mouth curls up and he turns his gaze away from you. “A lonely wraith.” The sight of Zayne’s face smiling was the last thing you thought you’d see in this life.

Then again, you’ve met Jas. You have come to accept these bizarre events.

“Were you the one who planted these jasmines?” You crouch down near him to run your finger across the buds.

“They are more than just mere flowers.” His voice felt as free as the wind. While he was lonely here, he was able to express his emotions.

He didn’t feel cold at all.

“Are they phantasms?” As you ask him, you inspect the growth of the flowers. They seem to be in the same state as the jasmine on top of the roof of the Tower.

An image appears in your mind as your fingers touch the buds. Zayne lowering his head to kiss the jasmine.

The man in front of you seems just as surprised as you are.

“My memories..Or perhaps it would be better to say they are the jasmines in my memories.”

You wonder if the jasmines are actual flowers or if they’re meant to represent something…or someone. You touch another one.

This time you see Zayne in an unfamiliar garb, but still lowering his head to kiss the flower.

Wait, you recognize that outfit!

That’s…his hospital coat.

“Why does the Zayne in these memories appear to be from another era?” You look over at this Zayne and, even if this is a dream from the past, you can still feel anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“Each one is my life of another time.”

“Is your destiny and the jasmine intertwined?” As this version of you asks questions, you are left with no one to ask anything to.

Questions going unanswered and you ponder if maybe you– well, the protagonist of the games– are supposed to represent the jasmine flower.

“All I can recall is my end with that moment.”

“So…you know what I saw just now?”

At this point, you’re not sure if Zayne is upset or relieved to finally have someone to talk to.

“Again and again and again like a cycle…I do not remember what happens after. Therefore, these buds can never blossom. ‘Tis why I bring each one here.”

You stare out at the seemingly endless ocean of flower buds. If each one represents a memory without an end, then how many are there?

If you recall Zayne’s note: ‘Once again, jasmine appears…’

“Isn’t the Foreseer able to see the fate of everyone in the world?” You decide to sit down in the grass next to the man, running your fingers through the dewy blades.

“He cannot see his own.” The wraith, seemingly moments away from dissipating into the sunlight, looks into the distance. “Such is Astra’s will.”

Astra this, Astra that. You’re starting to think this guy isn’t as great and everyone says he is…

With a sigh, you leave the library and slowly climb the staircase to check on your jasmine. Your thoughts still linger on the book’s illusion and especially the wraith within.

You reach the top of the Tower and there, Zayne stands in the moon’s immaculate glow. It seems he’s thinking deeply while gazing at the jasmine. You understand its significance to him now.

He’s pinning his desire to remember onto the flower bud.

“You are not forbidden from entering the library, but you cannot venture there as you please.”

It seems he knew you were inside of that illusion…

”Zayne, have you ever considered leaving the Tower?” Your voice was soft, hands nervously grabbing onto one another as you tried to keep the pitied expression off of your face. Zayne looks at you, his emotions inexplicable.

“What text did you find to make you ask such a thing?”

“Maybe…These jasmines represent the outside–” Zayne silently lifts his hand up into the air, and you are abruptly pulled toward him. His hand grasps your throat, his wintery gaze meeting yours.

“Your insolence reveals itself. Allow me to remind you of your place.”

What the hell is his problem!? Why did you even have to worry about him in the first place..?

Just steal the protocore and leave, simple and easy…Right? Well, it would’ve been easy if you hadn’t– No, don’t even finish that thought.

You are not in love with the guy who is literally choking you right now.

Fear spreads through your very being, your fingers clawing at his hand around your throat. All of the sudden, the Creatio protocore on his scepter releases an eerie, indigo light.

Frowning, Zayne relaxes his grip and pushes you away. “Stand back.” Your brows furrow as you cough, holding a hand up to your slightly sore throat.

Now what?

“Zayne?”

“Stay away from me.”

Before you can do anything, a myriad of brambles sprout and slither with serpentine precision toward Zayne.

“What are these things!?” You were clearly in a panic, worried for yourself but also…worried for Zayne.

Seemingly alive, the brambles ensnare Zayne’s entire body and dig into his limbs and torso. It’s exactly like your first meeting, when he was bound to the throne.

“There…Are they preventing you from leaving?” You bring your hand up to your mouth in shock.

This…was how Astra treated His followers?

Zayne’s gaze is as cold as winter’s sting. “The Foreseer cannot set foot outside of the Tower of Thorns.”

One of the brambles rushes for you and you try your best to move out of the way. It manages to scrape your arm, a clean cut, almost as if it were trying to send a warning toward you.

Zayne lifts his finger and a wall of ice appears to shield you from the remaining brambles. “A few swipes is all it needs to take your life.” You remember how the Creatio protocore glowed when you talked about being outside the Tower.

“...Is it because I suggested you leave this place? Your wounds…Are they from the brambles?”

Is this your fault for mentioning anything?

“He is warning us.”

“...Astra?”

You were really starting to dislike this so-called ‘God’.

Though, you do recall that only Astra could “perpetually freeze” His Foreseer. The Creatio protocore…is that His method to keep an eye on the Foreseer?

Not only does Astra punish any attempt to leave the Tower, but even the mere thought of it is also intolerable.

“You’ve attempted to leave this Tower before…Haven’t you? That’s the reasoning behind all of your scars.”

What kind of God punishes His own followers?

“I have no recollections of such.”

“I’m sorry. I was unaware…I assumed you didn’t want to leave.” Your hand clenches into a fist.

Maybe…If you broke the Creatio– No, you still need it to ensure your survival.

“You’ve begged enough for forgiveness. Destiny’s guiding hand may have brought you here, but it is time to abandon your curiosity.”

The brambles seem to have calmed down and disappeared into smoke. If not for your wounded arm, you would’ve assumed you were dreaming.

“There will be a solar eclipse tomorrow. I must wait at the Tower’s pinnacle for the prophecy. Unless I tell you, you are prohibited from entering.”

“Astra gifted one of His eyes to the Foreseer. By walking the winding path of time did the Foreseer understand His passings. This is the power of a god.”

- Philos: Tome of the Foreseer

Hey guys! Hope you didn't forget about what I said earlier <3

I'm gonna soft-drop a few ideas I have here, just because I don't want to make a separate post if no one is actually interested!

So here's some old Google docs ideas I had; one was a marvel version of my hero academia– with like Iron Man as All Might and Spiderman as Izuku and our main character would've been someone else entirely. Gertrude Yorkes who is an actual character in the comics, who has a pet velociraptor (or a deinonychus). I have everything fleshed out (and by that I mean all of the teachers and I even included the Titans because...lets face it. They're some of the best DC characters.

I also had a sword art online fic and some black clover ocs but...let's not talk about them 😭

My miraculous type idea was instead of kwamis, there's spirits in the items. And it'll be slightly asian inspired with the two heroes being Yin and Yang to each other, like how Cat Noir and Ladybug are the opposites. Like the jewelry is called shinzō (which means heart), so if the jewelry is destroyed the divine beast inside of it will die. And the top evil person being a hot lady, possibly the female mc's older sister or something.

I had another my hero idea, but since it's hard to insert ocs into the main plot, I made my own school with teachers, students, etc. So instead of trying to fit an oc in, I decided to make it so much more difficult for myself by making over 20+ new characters and quirks for a new school in the universe of mha. 🕴 I still have it, but I honestly doubt I have plans to write it 😭 or any of the above ones besides maybe the miraculous spin-off one.

I had a BL (boy's love, gay, yaoi) isekai idea where either the mc is afab non-binary and isekai's into the body of a male character or I might just make them a boy instead? However, I might scrap this idea because I had a better one a few months later that was the mc being a trans man, but not being accepted so he uh...possibly unalives himself and then wakes up in an alternative universe where he's a man (and it's a/b/o for some reason) and the plus side to this is, the version of him in this universe was a trans woman. So, they switch realities and it's a whole "they were put in the wrong universe on accident" type of thing. Either way, both ideas were a/b/o and I definitely had more written for the first one (I even named it "Out of Tune"), but it's a toss up for if I'd write it or not.

I have an isekai one where the mc went into a game she was playing, a mature game so– yeah. I have an S-rank hunter story since there's not many dungeon stories with a female mc. I have a random regression story that I don't have much written on...one called "All the villainess wants to do is die", which I might change tbh, but the mc possibly isekai's ofc. And of course she's a wrongly accused villainess who is actually a saintess. There's magical powers usually based on family lines, there's divine beasts, just wild stuff like that!

Then I have a non-isekai story similar to the manwha "Philomel" where the mc reads a book about her life at a young age and learns she might be a fake princess and eventually gets executed for being a fake.

And then finally, my magnum opus, the game of thrones-like story. I had no name for it, the Google doc is simply named "Vothad, Odura" which is the name of the world it takes place in. Vothad is the capital in the North and I have the other names as well, but this note is getting pretty lengthy tbh 😭 so I'll make Odura have it's own post if anyone is interested in the gods and the universe itself. I made all of this for a project in the 12th grade to create our own country, only for my teacher to say...it had to be based in the real world on the day of the presentation so...imagine my surprise. I even had to come up with a stupid national anthem 😭

There is a lot more I could say about this one, but just let me know if yall wanna hear about it and I can make a separate post for it! Like I have some mythos I was working on, a lesbian goddess couple who spawned a kid from their brain like Zeus having Athena– and just about the geography of Odura!

Anyway, I am so sorry for the rant, I doubt anyone came here for original work. Yall are just here for the hot LADS men and, honestly, I can't blame you 🩷

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog , @shypotatoes013-blog

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supernaturalscribe67 · 1 year ago

Text

Euphoric

Words: 3,587

POV: 3rd Person and brief 1st Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Language, Dysphoria, a single mention of Deadname (D/N), self-hate, mention of past self-harm, attempted self-harm, hurt/comfort

Summary: Dysphoria can hit at any moment, and when it hits, it hits hard. The reader is going through a tough time with the way he looks, doubting himself and the people around him. When he feels at his lowest, ready to seep back into his old ways, his boyfriend, Gabriel, is there to help him out.

Request:

Hi I've been binge-reading your stories recently and I was wondering if you could do this request. :)

So a Gabriel/FTM!Reader where the reader is dealing with really bad dysphoria (possibly mentioning past SH?) and a comforting Gabe? Possibly with an established relationship?

(Would be so fucking rad if he Sam and Dean's younger brother!!)

Tysm even if you don't do this, I love your work so much and it's helped so much recently

@genekies

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to get out, hun! A lot has been going on at work that has taken my focus away from writing. However, I finally found the inspiration to write this with the help of my Supernatural novels that I found hidden away in a box! I really hope you enjoy this story and that it brings you some type of comfort! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Much love~

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Good morning, sugarplum!

Sorry, I couldn’t be there when you woke up this morning. Duty calls. I’ll be back later tonight! I hope you have a good day! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! <3

Your Casanova,

Gabriel

Why do some people wake up with an already negative attitude? A multitude of factors could be the cause; relationship issues, low self-esteem, stress, unhealthy thoughts, and lack of sleep are just a handful of possibilities. Some have their reasonings read out to them by a licensed professional they pay an arm and a leg to visit every couple of weeks, while others lack the funds and/or the proper motivation to cope, so they bottle it up inside, casting it away to the darkest depths of their mind for weeks, maybe months. They ignore the feelings they get, the troubles that stalk them, until the bottle inside of them fills to the brim. It shakes and stirs, begging for release. It spills out, slowly at first, but then the pressure becomes too much to handle, and it combusts.

And (Y/N) felt like he was about to explode.

Nothing looked right. His jawline wasn’t sharp enough, his curves were more pronounced than ever, his binder didn’t make him flat enough, he was too short, the hair on his face was barely considered peach fuzz at that point, and his eyes - yes, his eyes - screamed femininity. Screamed female. Screamed everything about you is wrong. Screamed;

You are not a man, and you never will be.

It wasn’t often that his gender dysphoria acted out as bad as it had that day. Sure, there were times when he woke up and the negative thoughts just never seemed to go away. The thoughts that made certain parts of him look wrong, misplaced. Rarely had his mind told him that everything about him was wrong. Rarely did his mind tell him he wasn’t the man he wanted to be. But, when those thoughts arose, they hit him hard, as if he got struck by a semi-truck going eighty on the interstate. It hollowed him out and made him a shell of his former self. A shell that was slowly wilting away.

His brothers were the first to notice his shift in demeanor. While he normally came into the kitchen every morning with a goofy grin on his face, a smile was nowhere to be seen. His head was cast down and he barely spoke a word to either Sam or Dean. Another thing they noticed was the lack of exposed skin he had. Usually, (Y/N) would walk out of his room clad in a t-shirt and shorts in the morning. That day, he wore a hoodie, sweatpants, and socks. The temperature in the bunker hadn’t changed, so it wouldn’t make sense that he was cold. If he had been, he would have complained about it for the rest of the day, yet he didn’t say a word. Instead, he silently got some coffee and sat down with his brothers at the table. He didn’t engage in conversation.

Later on, the three of them sat in the library, heads buried in books and computer screens. They would typically sit around, and talk about potential hunts or random information that they had found. (Y/N) acted the same way he did when he was in the kitchen, though. He was physically present, but nowhere near as mentally present. His head was down, the cord from his earbuds wrapped around his phone, which was sitting next to the book he had been reading. It didn’t even seem as if he was actively reading the text. It had been ten minutes since he turned the page.

Sam leaned closer to Dean, who sat next to him. “Does he seem off to you?” He asked in a low, quiet voice.

Dean looked up from his computer and glanced over at his youngest brother. He hesitated, studying him for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, something’s wrong with him. Has he said anything?”

Sam shook his head. “No.”

“Do you think it has something to do with Gabriel?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?”

Dean pursed his lips for a moment before he turned back to (Y/N). He leaned over and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. (Y/N) lifted his head to look at his brother and, for the first time that whole morning, their eyes connected. Dean noticed something almost immediately. His eyes were empty, void of any emotion. (Y/N) took an earbud out.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice low and monotone.

“Hey, man, you doing okay?”

(Y/N) looked away for a moment. “Yeah?” He shook his head and shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a bit off today.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did something happen with Gabriel?” Sam asked.

“No? I said I’m fine.”

“Ok, well, obviously you’re not,” Dean said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” (Y/N) spoke in an exasperated tone.

“(Y/N),” Sam leaned forward, palms flat on the wooden surface. “If something’s wrong, you know you can tell us, right?”

“Nothing’s wrong! Will you two stop fucking bugging me!?” He exclaimed.

(Y/N) slammed his book shut and shoved it away from him. Quickly, he stood, stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, and stormed out of the library. Sam and Dean’s eyes were attached to him until he was out of sight. Dean and Sam shot a glance at one another, both of them opening their mouths as if to say something, but decided against it before they went back to their work.

(Y/N) was numb, aside from the small annoyance that had bubbled up inside of him from his brothers’ persistence. One common trait that was distributed through all the Winchester siblings was the lack of willingness to talk about their emotions. It was an ideology that was beaten into them when they were younger and first got into hunting. Bury your emotions deep within, don’t let them show, and don’t let your enemy know your weakness. Hell, don’t let your allies know your weaknesses, either. They’ll turn their back on you if they see you at your lowest. Stay strong, hide your feelings, and don’t let anyone in, even if it’s family.

When he made it back to his room, he walked over to the small dresser that was pressed along the far wall. Beside the dresser sat his tennis shoes. He grabbed them and put them on. He walked back over to the dresser, opened up the top drawer, and rummaged around in his undergarments for a moment before he fished out a pack of Marlboro Reds. The box was slightly creased, the plastic rustling in his grasp. It had been a while since he had a cigarette. He hadn’t felt the need for them, but he could feel the stress and anxiety grumble inside of him. He needed something to clear his mind. (Y/N) placed the carton into his hoodie pocket and left his room.

As he made his way past the library archway, he was stopped by his brother’s voice.

“Where’re you going?” Dean piped up.

(Y/N) stopped in his tracks and turned towards them. “Out.”

“Out where?” Sam asked.

“Look, I’m just going to take a walk around the bunker, that’s all. Going to clear my head.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. “You sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged. “Just need a breather is all.”

“Alright, well…don’t go wandering too far.”

“I won’t.” (Y/N) shared a small smile.

Sam and Dean returned the smile as (Y/N) turned his back on his brothers and headed up the staircase toward the front door.

The afternoon sun slithered past the canopy of oak tree branches. Orange, red, and yellow leaves shined bright, painting the dirt floor like a kaleidoscope. About half a mile from the bunker, a dead tree had fallen during a heavy thunderstorm several years prior. The trunk has since been embedded in the ground, forming a natural bench in the middle of the forest. This was where (Y/N) had gone to clear his head.

He sat at the edge of the log, back slouched, elbows resting against his knees, and hands hung limply between his legs. The smoke from his lit cig wafted upward towards the treetops. The end of the cigarette slowly withered away, a small amount of ash falling upon the autumn leaves. His eyes were cast down and glazed over, the thoughts in his mind running at a hundred miles an hour.

You’re delusional. A man? No one would ever consider you a man. You look nothing like a man. Nothing like what you want to, and you never will. You’ll always look like the girl you were born as. You’ll always be (D/N), and there is nothing you can do about it. Sam, Dean, Gabriel? They’re all lying to you. They’re feeding into your delusion because they feel bad for you. They don’t love you or support you. They’ll never see you as a man. Never have and never will.

(Y/N) lowered his head as he brought the cigarette up to his lips. He inhaled deeply, feeling the burn of the smoke filling his lungs, before he brought the cig away from his mouth. He tapped the end of the cig, the ash falling onto the ground. As he shifted, the sleeves of his hoodie lifted, the remnants of depressive episodes from his past peeking out through the cotton fabric. His eyes shifted to the discolored scars. He could remember how he felt when he first made the scars. The relaxation he felt afterward, the relief. It was a distraction from the pain he felt within. It was a distraction that he desperately craved.

For a moment, he looked at the end of the cigarette. It was slowly dwindling to half its original length. He shifted it in his fingers and brought it to his wrist, stopping right before the end of the butt touched his skin. He hesitated and contemplated. (Y/N) closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and moved the cig closer to his arm.

“Hey Sugarplum,” the voice came out of nowhere.

(Y/N) let out a startled shout, the cigarette fell to the ground as he turned toward the sound of the voice. Sitting beside him on the log was Gabriel, his signature smirk etched onto his lips. (Y/N) sighed and leaned down, grabbed the butt, brought it to his lips, and took a final drag. He then lifted his foot and put the cig out on the bottom of his shoe before he flicked the remnants onto the ground. He placed his hand on the log and exhaled, the smoke leaving his lungs and creating a halo around his head.

“A little birdie or two told me you went on a walk. The little birdie also told me you weren’t feeling the best.” Gabriel said as he reached an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

(Y/N) could feel himself instantly relax at Gabriel’s touch, the tension leaving his shoulders. So much was going through his head. So many emotions beating at his heart, begging to be released, begging to be expressed. Yet something was stopping them.

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, his voice soft.

The smirk was gone from Gabriel’s face, his expression turned more serious. He inched closer to (Y/N) so that their sides were pressing against one another. He pulled him close.

“You know that’s not true,” Gabriel whispered. He pressed his nose against (Y/N)’s cheek. He ran his fingers through his hair softly and soothingly. “I can hear everything going on in your pretty little head, sugar, and I know that it’s not quiet.”

Gabriel’s closeness was comforting, something that he had been craving all day. The longer Gabriel sat next to him, the more relaxed he felt, yet the demons were still scratching at the inner crevices of his mind. With the mixed feelings he experienced, it was all so overwhelming. (Y/N) recognized the familiar prickle of tears appearing in the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Gabriel breathed as he wrapped his arms around (Y/N)’s body, pulling him as close as he could, his head resting on Gabriel’s chest.

(Y/N) sniffled as he allowed the tears to fall, something that didn’t happen very often. Something he would, normally, not let himself do. Be vulnerable. Vulnerability is what gets you killed in the hunting career, and there was no time for that. Still, the warm feeling of Gabriel’s arms wrapped around him made him feel at home, made him feel safe, and told him that it was okay to let himself go.

Gabriel rubbed (Y/N)’s back. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” He asked quietly.

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment as he clasped his hands together. He rubbed the back of his knuckles, a soothing gesture he learned from a young age. “I don’t…” he trailed and let out a sigh, shoulders slouched. “I don’t look like a man.”

“What?” Gabriel furrowed his brows.

“I don’t look like a man, okay!?” (Y/N) exclaimed and moved away from Gabriel, standing abruptly. “I mean, look at me! I’m so short and feminine! Look at my hips! Look at my face! Everything about me is wrong. Everything about me isn’t what it’s supposed to be and it’s killing me.” (Y/N)’s voice got louder, frustration evident in his tone.

The tears were freefalling, and (Y/N) did not attempt to wipe them away. Gabriel simply stared up at him, listening, a saddened expression making its way across his face.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up and look at yourself in the mirror and see nothing but a body that you hate? A body that you don’t want to be in? That you feel like you don’t belong in? It feels like my life is a lie, that I’ve just been kidding myself when I said that I could finally be the man that I always wanted to be. Everything that you or Sam or Dean have said about me, validating my emotions, supporting me through everything, was just some pathetic pity party in an attempt to make me feel better about myself, even though, deep down, I know I’m not going to look anything like I want to. I’m not going to be the man that I’ve always dreamt I’d be because I’m stuck. I’m stuck in this worthless body that I was forced to have and I can’t do anything about it. I want…”

The tears were coming faster now, his words becoming shaky, almost unintelligible.

“I want to be happy…but I look at myself and I just can’t.”

Gabriel stood and walked over to him. “(Y/N), look at me,” he reached down and cupped (Y/N)’s wet cheeks, lifting his head so that he could gaze into his reddening eyes. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears away. “Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?” He had a smile on his face.

(Y/N) sniffled. “What?”

“I see a handsome, strong, brave man who risks his life daily for the people that he loves. I see a man with a heart of gold, who would do anything to make other people happy. I see the most handsome man on the face of this planet, the most wonderful man that my father had ever created. More importantly, I see your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Yes, your soul. I see how bright, beautiful, magnificent, and glorious it is. How perfect it is. The man you truly are.”

(Y/N) looked down at the ground. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s middle. Gabriel wrapped his arms around him, running his fingers through his hair.

“I know it’s hard some days. You look at yourself and don’t like what you see. You feel like there’s nothing you can do to change it. That people aren’t going to see you for who you are. I hate to break it to you, sugarplum, but that’s all I see.” He chuckled deeply. “All I can see is the man you are. The man you were meant to be. And some days are going to be harder than others, you're going to beat yourself up more than you should, and that’s okay. Because, in the end, you’ll get through this. You’ll gain your confidence back. You’ll see yourself and finally say ‘This is me’, and I am going to be with you every step of the way.”

Gabriel leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of (Y/N)’s forehead.

“Because I love you. Every part of you. The parts that you like and the parts that you don’t like. I love it even more when you’re happy with yourself. When you love yourself. And even if I pop in one day and you’re dressed as an Oompa Loompa with a five-foot-tall bright green and yellow mohawk and a beard the size of Gandolf’s, then I would still love you.”

(Y/N) snorted and let out a short laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” (Y/N) shook his head. “An Oompa Loompa?”

“Hey, it’s not my place to judge if or when you decide to dress up as an Oompa Loompa.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes, a smile curled into the corner of his lips. Gabriel brushed his wet cheek with his thumb.

“Feeling better?” He asked softly.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good, I’m glad. And I’m proud of you.”

(Y/N) furrowed his brows and glanced up at Gabriel. “For what?”

“For telling me how you feel. If I know anything about you Winchesters, I know that that wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t. But…it felt good.”

Gabriel nodded. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against (Y/N)’s lips. When he pulled back, he stared lovingly into his eyes.

“You’re my person, (Y/N). The person that I love and care for, and if you ever feel like this again, just give me a shout and I’ll be there faster than you can get my name out of your mouth. I never want you to be alone when you feel like this. You don’t deserve to be alone through this. Promise me that you’ll call me next time you feel like this?” Gabriel’s hands trailed down from his face to his arms and stopped to grab his wrists gently. He rubbed them softly through the sleeves.

(Y/N) opened his mouth and hesitated. “I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Gabriel smirked and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now, do you want to go back to the bunker? We can cuddle on your bed, and watch some of those terrible reality TV shows. I think I have a bit of an addiction to 90-Day-Fiance.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Do you mind if we sit out here for a little bit? It’s a beautiful day out and…I’m not quite ready to go back inside yet.”

“Of course, anything for my sugarplum,” he leaned forward, his nose brushing gently against (Y/N)’s.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) whispered. “I love you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. You deserve the world and every beautiful thing in it.”

“I don’t want the world. All I want is you.”

“Then have me you shall. Forever and always.”

“Forever and always?” (Y/N) lifted a hand, his pinkie finger sticking out.

Gabriel smirked and chuckled. He lifted a hand, hooked his pinkie onto (Y/N)’s, and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Forever and always.”

My Dearest (Y/N),

I’m writing this, not as one of my regular notes, but as a reminder to you. I want you to pack this away somewhere safe where you can take it out and read it whenever you feel down about yourself in any way.

You are strong. You are brave. You are handsome. You are perfect. You are loved. You are you.

I know it’s hard to see yourself in a positive light at the moment, and everything may seem like it’s closing in as if nothing is going right and it will never get fixed, but, just know, you’ll make it through this. Just like you’ve done on multiple hunts, you will prevail. You will conquer the enemy, even if that enemy is yourself.

Remember, you don’t have to fight this battle alone. I’m here for you, and so is Sam and Dean. We all love you so much and we want you to be happy! We love seeing your smile when you walk into a room. You brighten our day just by being you, and nothing will ever change that.

If you need anything, anything at all, just think of me, and I will be there for you. We can watch your favorite movie and I’ll even bring you some of those little dessert cakes you like from the cafe I took you to on our first date. Even if you don’t want to talk to me about it, I want you to know that you don’t have to suffer in silence. Not while I’m around. I’ll always be by your side, no matter what you go through.

I love you,

Forever and always,

Your Casanova,

Gabriel

106 notes · View notes

noroi1000 · 2 years ago

Note

Ayo, can ask for part 2 of yandere Geto is so good!!!!

Little Monkey, my sweetheart 2

Paring: Yandere Geto x reader

words: 1,4k

You got scared as soon as you saw the tall, dark-haired man approaching you with a tray filled to the brim with food.

You were hungry, but you didn't know if you could look at food.

Your brain was filled with thinking about why all this happened. Not thinking you're hungry. The truth is that you felt hunger hitting your body.

However, you were more concerned all the time if you were safe that way and if you were going to be okay.

You've accepted the fact that you'll never get out of here in your life. This temple you live in now is big. And this is your home... Many doors are locked, corridors are long and wide. And sometimes way forward lead nowhere.

Tired of running in the same direction all the time. Escape from his room, running through the corridors, looking for the sliding doors that will open. There weren't any, and you didn't want to try to pry the wood. You could only accept that you had to run. Or accept that there is no escape.

He, who always smiled as you ran past him to find a way out, wasn't laughing now. He always thought it was funny how desperate and struggling you were to get out of here. It was even cute to him. But now, a week after you've been here, it's not that fun for him. Repeating the same thing over and over often gets boring. And you can't help but feel like it won't do anything.

Because you got caught by him later anyway, or once or twice you came back to him yourself. You ran so far that you started to panic because you couldn't find any way you remembered running. Your brain was obsessed with panic that coursed through you. You didn't want to be left alone in this huge temple. Especially since there were strange creatures hanging around there. Even if the man who "loves you" wields these creatures. You're still terrified to see this. You run away from it.

He didn't even chase after you once to catch you. He just stood by the door to his room, watching. And after a while you came around the corner, looking at him with terrified eyes.

However, you were relieved to see him. Inner peace brought you that you were not alone here. And also that you know this man.

You lay in bed, blinking weakly as he sat on the edge of the mattress next to you.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, placing the tray on a small table nearby.

"No..." you mumbled softly, hugging your pillow.

"Why?"

His fingers brushed your forehead gently, picking up stray strands of hair.

"Chain... And I'm afraid to be here alone..." you moaned.

You didn't notice him touching you. You might even hug him. Just to make sure someone is there for you... You don't want to be here alone, and you were glad that he was always around.

Even if he left, he would come back later.

"I know that little chain is uncomfortable..." he murmured sadly, looking at the leather band that is attached to your ankle above the foot, and there is also a thin but strong chain that connects your leg to the leg of the large bed. "And if I take it off you today, will you sleep in bed with me?"

You thought about your answer for a moment.

And you finally nodded your head in agreement.

You were able to touch him. In the time you've been here, you've learned something about him, especially because he's been telling you things to make you know him better. And he knew everything about you.

"You will never be alone here. I am here almost always. And there are girls in other rooms. Besides, they've been wanting to meet you for days."

"Girls...?" You asked, watching as his fingers deftly unhook the chain from your leg.

His hands began to massage the irritated skin.

"I told you about them. Two girls I look after. They will surely love you. Just like me." He looked at you lovingly. "I have some of your favorite food. Choose whatever you want from it. I'll come over later and fix you a bath. And when the day is over, I hope I can hold you to sleep in my arms. I'll be back soon, little Monkey~. I love you, baby~."

You saw him leave the room with a small smile.

You know he didn't lock the door.

But you didn't even want to think about plans to get away from here.

Maybe life as his pet to cuddle, integrate and love will be a good life?

After all, he is able to provide housing in the great temple, and he also brings you the best things you can ask for. Even if you didn't ask him for anything. He just came with all the things you could possibly need.

He dressed you up like a dress-up toy in whatever he liked. Or rather, what will look beautiful on you.

Even though you weren't his prisoner like you might think, and it didn't feel like prison, you felt different.

Not as a prisoner, not as a free person.

Would you like to fall in love with someone who already loves you...

Maybe then it would be easier for you to spend your days with him.

And you will also feel happy.

For now, you can sleep peacefully with him next to you and not run away from him.

A smile can appear on your face.

Besides, falling in love with him won't be that hard.

He's really nice, and apart from his behavior being weird at times, he's someone you might consider a cool person.

Plus, he's handsome. So caring.

He gives you all the best things, and waits until you are satisfied first. Only then does he focus on it.

You looked all over you, nightgown made of fine material. No signs of you being unwell. You are clean, without any wounds or bruises, you keep getting food. You are literally pampered.

There are no more restrictions on movement on your arms or legs. You are in a comfortable room, with a window where you can see the outside world, you can leave this room.

Your kidnapper is such a very nice man.

Even though you're a bit like a pet to him. Because like he said: He hates people without cursed energy. And also, you are a human without it.

But he told you that he loves you. But for the sake of his psyche, he kept saying that you were his beloved pet.

How can someone who hates all people love only one person? You're still below him in society.

If he loved you like you were a sorcerer, it would be different. He can't have in his "family" someone who is from a society of people he hates.

But he loves you, and for the sake of his psyche, he might have told himself that you were his beloved sweet pet to pamper.

You thought for a long time, and before you could reach for the tray of food, he was back.

You looked at his cute smile as he approached you.

"So how are you? Did you enjoy the food?" he asked, then looked down at the untouched tray. His smile faded a little. "You haven't eaten anything. Why?"

Sitting on the bed, your head dropped slightly as you stared at your hands.

"Sorry..." You groaned, thinking you had pissed him off. You didn't want to explain to him that you were about to start eating because he wouldn't believe you anyway.

He sighed and suddenly you felt the bed next to you drop down as he sat there, not even trying to sit down gently.

He grabbed the metal tray on the table and moved the table closer, handing you the fork.

A spoon with a creamy dessert suddenly appeared at your mouth.

As you looked at him questioningly, he suddenly picked you up, placing you on his lap and started feeding you.

The moment you had enough food because he was feeding you so much, you buried your face in his neck, wanting to avoid further feeding.

Once he felt it, he pulled you closer and started hugging you. Holding you against his body while you felt strangely relaxed in his arms.

It's like you've never been here and he's close to you.

Because this man has never done anything wrong to you, you can accept his love that he pours out on you.

And maybe someday you'll be able to give him the same?

#jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #geto x reader #jjk x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto suguru x reader #yandere geto

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error-dream-was-found · 3 months ago

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More proof that I'm alive and writing

You know what is better than one snippet to prove that your author is not dead? Two snippets! (Yes, I have the attention span of a hyperactive squirrel and jump between two works but this ain't about that)

Snippet 'monsters don't deserve hugs but you aren't a monster' edition:

“- should kill him.”

Dream's train of thought crashed when he caught a piece of someone else's conversation, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who they were referring to. Suddenly, being punished by Bad became a lesser concern in the face of a new, worse punishment. He had tried so hard, endured months of torture, pain, and dehumanization just to survive. Now people wanted to take even that from him once again. He didn't come this far to die here. He’d rather they untie Quackity and continue his training than die. But despite the panic seizing his chest, he couldn’t get his mind to focus on all the voices. He could only catch bits and pieces of everything being said.

“-got out?”

“Should’ve killed-”

“Less trouble-”

“- put him back.”

“- can’t be free.”

“- monster-”

“- too dangerous-”

With each word, each clipped bit of conversation he heard, fear gripped his heart stronger. Every once in a while, he could hear one of his friends’ voices speak up in his defense, attempting to placate the crowd but it was nearly drowned out by everyone else. He thought his friends would protect him. Now, he wasn’t so sure. There were too many people, even on the odd chance that his friends would try and fight for him they would be outmatched. In the best-case scenario, people might believe he had manipulated them. He could probably convince them of it. But if not … his friends could die and it would all be his fault! He couldn’t let that happen!

Maybe his friends would be smart and not fight for him? There were too many people and they all hated him, they all wanted him dead. Only a fool would try to fight them all-

“Dream?”

A voice sounded out near him, filled to the brim with worry, but Dream didn’t hear that. All he could hear in his head was contempt and disgust, voices talking about killing him before he could cause more trouble and hurt everyone again. His friends were trying to explain, but he knew it would not work. No one ever listened when he tried to explain. Why would they now? They only cared about a single thing—putting him six feet under. Maybe after that, they would ask questions, but it would be too late. It was always too late by the time they asked.

He flinched, shying back from the voice, only to freeze when he realized he had nowhere to go. The wall was firm against his back and there was no escaping his punishment. But he didn’t want to die! Tears pushed into his eyes as the desperation crept in. He didn’t want to die, he was just 22 and he still hadn’t made it up to his friends and he- he never got to experience what a family is and-

A black, clawed hand, far too big to belong to a human, entered his field of vision. The claws were shining sinisterly in the light, promising pain. He could already feel them tearing through his flesh and ripping him to sheds. Just like sir’s knives did before.

Dream’s already rapid breathing sped up even more when the mental image formed, and he curled in on himself instinctively, shielding Patches with his whole body. The cat squirmed in his hold, trying to get out, but he didn’t let her, he couldn’t. The demon was too close, his claws just moments from tearing into Dream and-

“- better off death-”

“No!”

#c!dream #dsmp #c!george #c!badboyhalo #c!bad #c!sapnap #c!quackity #c!sam #c!karl #dream smp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #monsters don't deserve hugs #can i tell you a story?#snippet

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binniesoob · 1 year ago

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The Name Chapter: Freefall Concepts Analysis

let's analyze the concept pictures and trailers for the new upcoming TXT album! there are a lot of details hidden everywhere 👀

looks like my predictions were mostly right btw 🤭 if you haven't yet, i suggest you read them here before reading this post because they are strictly connected!

— REALITY VERSION

We didn't get an obvious autumn setting, but we did get colder rainy weather:

TXT just fell down to earth, to the harsh reality of things, they don't have nowhere to run away to anymore.

The vibes are very reminiscent of the Mess concept for Minisode 2, after all, TXT's feelings are the same: in Mess they just lost their first romantic love, their other/new Neverland.

Mess was also connected to the You version of Freeze, through props as well (the teddy bear, the flowers, the helmet, etc.), and Reality is now connected to You as well, because of the rain and umbrellas it looks like a darker sad version of it.

Just a quick recap...

1) YOU in Freeze = TXT found their first romantic love (aka Moa, very y/n fanfic of them ik ik) and invite them on a date.

2) MESS in Tuesday's Child = Moa doesn't show up to the date because it's actually tootiming all five of them 🤡 (see Lo$er=Lo♡er mv and Good Boy Gone Bad Japanese version mv). TXT are now about to go back to their childhood Neverland to mend their broken hearts and refuse the pain that comes with growing up.

3) REALITY in Freefall = TXT are heartbroken again, this time because they had to leave Neverland too and there's no way of escaping growing pains... 😔

(i swear i'm gonna complete the storyline summary with Minisode 2 by the end of the year 🧍‍♀️)

This version is also FILLED! TO! THE! BRIM! with hints through words and phrases written everywhere, on walls, signs, clothes...

If you zoom in the pictures you should be able to read them, i'm gonna list all those i found and collected and what i think they stand for:

• "step to earth" = TXT are back to earth/reality

• "tel: 03042019" and "fax 08222019" = the numbers contain the dates of TXT debut and moa day: TXT should talk their feelings out with eachother and connect with Moa again (are we going to see TXT coming in contact again with Moa in the music video? 👀 are we gonna get love songs again in this album?)

• “find my feet” = TXT need to let go of escapistic fantasies and come back down to earth. the meaning of this phrase also is "to start becoming comfortable in a new situation"

• “parachute” = it probably references something that represents a "saviour" for TXT during their harsh return to reality, it could be Moa and the Star 🤔

• “loadstar” = the STAR they need to light up again rembering their promise song and singing it together, also pretty sure the it's the title track name or part of it 😧 looks like they weren't fooling us in the end with the signs on the beach pic from Temptation-Farewell 🤡👍

• “dive” also written as "•Di♡E!•" in the black&white running-in-the-rain group pic = could be a track name, perhaps referencing Lo$er=Lo♡er 😮!!

• “rags rags rags” = could be the remains of TXT's inner selves after not having Neverland/Magic Island anymore 🤔

• "lost of found " = TXT lost themselves at Neverland and when they forgot their true names as children, but are now going to find themselves again once they remember them.

• " Running Instead of crying" = TXT shouldn't cry mourning Neverland (but focus on what's ahead of them instead and run towards it ?)

• "kicking tomorrow kicking" = they need to hold on, accept that tomorrow is coming, keep going and keep fighting

• "stand tall, walk tall, stand still" = they should be proud and confident of who they are but ? stay the same ? 🤔

• "one dream" = TXT's motto, they need to remember what they are really fighting for and what's truly their goal

• "in dreams begin responsibility" = if TXT dream to turn the world into a brighter place again, where people believe in their dreams, through awakening the Star, they have to take responsibility for it.

This should be all but if you notice i missed something feel free to point it out <3

Now let's focus on the store behind TXT in the group pictures! Credits to @/txtbook on twitter because i included what they wrote as well.

The shop is called LOADSTAR and it's in the building 304... remember the train also called 304 that previously showed TXT memories and predictions? The shop offers repairings for VCRs 👀

@/txtbook:

(at the shop) they repair the DVD that contains memories and we have the theme of memories & "remembering the name" in txt concept + since the building number is 304 it's great connection to their "start line" aka magic island but now in reality!

Loadstar is a guiding star used in navigation and MOA are always referenced as Stars + morse code was used for txt debut album TDC: STAR & questioning films words (true names?) — (me: yes, their true names👍)

The LoadSTAR shop that also sells music instruments & radio can fix their "melancholy DVD" & give back memories about their start line, dream & magic, music, song of a star 😭

And guess what Beomgyu holds in the CLARITY version? 👀 a video camera

but first let's analyze...

— MELANCHOLY VERSION

On a recent Weverse Live Soobin, Taehyun and Hueningkai opened up about their trainee days, in what conditions they rehearsed in the old basement of the old BigHit building (in 2014-16 -ish if i'm correct) here's a extract:

🐰 when we were in the basement practice room, there was a time when the ventilator wasn’t working…the ventilator was broken, the air conditioner was broken, there as water leaking onto the floor, there was mushroom growing on the floor 🐧 the mushrooms were really… 🐰 and since we’d have dance lessons in that situation for like 8-9 hours, the mirror was barely visible 🐧 because of the humidity 🐰 the mirror would get all fogged up because of the humidity making things barely visible 🐰 so we’d practice and… 🐿️ we used to wipe it down with newspaper 🐰 oh right! we’d all wipe it away with newspaper 🐰 and then we’d open the window for ventilation but leaving the window open in the middle of winter…opening the window when you’re already sweating makes you feel super cold 🐰 so we’d be shivering while trying to get some ventilation in the room 🐰 at that time, i kinda really hated the company, i hated our teachers… 🐰 but when else would we be able to experience something like that? 😅

source

This concept seems reminiscing of that. They were a group of boys working hard for their dream of debuting and making music, holding on despite the hard reality and injustices they had to face everyday.

This concept also features a wolf dog !

we already saw one in Frost mv

Yeonjun's real name is "promise" and the hint for it is "the one who shall not eat dogs"

5:53 is the hour between ‘dog and wolf’ from the French expression "l'heure entre chien et loup", it's the time when you can't distinguish a friend from a foe: it might reference how TXT will have to fight eachother and themselves in the rest of The Name Chapter

— CLARITY VERSION

This concept reminds of TXT abandoning Neverland in the The Name Chapter Concept Trailer. TXT used to travel to Neverland at Blue Hour (the sunset), but they don't go this time: when night comes they are still on earth.

honestly, the first thing that came to my mind when i saw these pictures was the last line from from Dante's Inferno: "E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle", translated "and thence we came forth to see the stars again". After all, Neverland has been hell for TXT, a nightmare dressed as a daydream, and now that they have a clear mind, freed from the temptations, they can see the reality of things again and the real stars, amongst which there's their Star!

If these pictures seem familiar there's a reason...

they are actually a replica of The Dream Chapter: Eternity, Starboard Version.

TXT are in the same exact order: in Can You See Me mv (title track of TDC: Eternity) we saw Beomgyu and Taehyun fighting, and on The Name Chapter Concept Trailer we saw that Beomgyu and Taehyun are the last ones to fight eachother. In addition everyone but Beomgyu is facing to the right: Beomgyu is the last one left after they fight eachother in the concept trailer.

Taehyun stands opposite to Beomgyu and is not holding hands with him = they fight, but let's remember as well what we said about him experiencing the fall back to reality differently from the other members in the Temptation analysis and Freefall predictions. That is further confirmed by the fact that in the solo pictures for this version everyone is out in the open, while Taehyun is the only one inside a window. The same as Taehyun's boat being the only one flipped around in the Farewell concept.

They also are on a rooftop 👀 like in 0x1lovesong Japanese Version mv, and on the mini posters for this version looks like they are either falling or on the ground after the fall 👇

... but it also could be something else, judging by the colors that remind of the Nightmare concept in Temptation... we'll see 👀

edit: forgot to add that Kai has odd eyes like a certain someone...

Kai is not the cat but has been the most tempted beside Yeonjun by the devil/peter pan/cat because he doesn't want to leave childhood most of all members. We saw him hesitant to leave Neverland at the end of Sugar Rush Ride, and we know his evil doppelgänger (see Frost mv) is going to fight Kai himself and the members (see TNC concept trailer) inside a labyrinth he built (see TNC concept trailer and Run Away mv when Kai draws blue and yellow - like the cat eyes - intertwined circles around the school), he probably was tempted to take over by the devil/cat, that's why the odd eyes.

Also didn't notice that the glass dome that we had in TDC: Eternity, Starboard Version pictures has been shattered by TXT literally - there are glass pieces and metal bars on the ground at their feet in the Clarity pictures - and metaphorically!

TXT broke the barrier that locked them in eternal dream. (@/0X1ZEROBASEONE on twitter/X)

Remember how TXT were surrounded by glass pieces at the end of 0x1lovesong Japanese Version mv too? 👀 It's all coming together.

This is all i have for now! If i need to add more details i'm gonna either edit the post or use a reblog. Thank you for reading <3 see you in the next TXT LORE O'CLOCK 👋 :)

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #the name chapter: freefall #— txt lore #txt lore #txt storyline #the star seekers

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oogaboogaspookyman · 1 year ago

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L Is Real 2401

[THALASSOPHOBIA]

[1]

I hear something in the fountain's waters

Should i reach out and search for what's underneath the surface?

I hear something in the fountain's waters

I'm scared to know what's down in the depths of this strange fountain...

[2]

LET ME OUT OF HERE, I CAN'T STRUGGLE TO BREATHE FOR LONG

I HAVEN'T SEEN THE SUN IN A WHILE

I hear something in the fountain's waters, it's screaming for help

(I CAN'T BREATHE)

I'm too scared to see the body in the darkness

(WHERE'S MARIO?)

[3]

ALL THE WATER, GOING DOWN MY THROAT

I FEEL MY LUNGS FILLING UP TO THE BRIM

*what the actual HELL is down there*

(I'M DROWNING!!)

[4]

WHERE'S MARIO AT? I COULD REALLY USE HIS HELP, WHERE HAS HE GONE?

IT'S GETTING IN MY LUNGS, I DON'T WANNA DIE

*what the FUCK*

[5]

I hear something in the fountain's waters

Should i reach out and search for what's underneath..?

I'm too scared of what i may find in the depths

I don't want to see another body down there

I can't handle the bloodshed

I'd rather find a skeleton than wet rotting flesh

(MARIO!!)

[6]

I DON'T WANT TO DIE DOWN HERE ALL ALONE

GET ME OUT OF HERE BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE FOR ME

*JESUS*

*the track be bangin' but THIS IS FUCKED*

(WHERE IN THE WORLD IS MARIO?!)

(HE WOULDN'T LEAVE ME HERE FOR DEAD, IT'S JUST NOT LIKE HIM AT ALL)

[7]

The hell is down there?! I can hear a man screaming from the bottom of this fountain?!

I'M STRUGGLING TO BREATHE

(Who's...)

EVERY SECOND I'M CLINGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

(... That?)

[8]

I can see it now, the body of a hero chained to the bottom of the dark blue

(CAN YOU SEE ME? PLEASE?)

I would help but i'm too afraid for my safety to try and i don't see anyone else around to help

(IS MARIO REALLY NOWHERE TO BE SEEN?! I DON'T WANT TO DIE DOWN HERE ALONE)

[9]

I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE

(I want to try, but i'm scared)

I DON'T WANT TO DIE

(I want to try to help)

REAL

[10] (ALL TIME FAVORITE NOW)

I'm sorry, buddy, i'm scared...

(I DON'T WANT TO DIE...)

[11]

I'm sorry i couldn't help you more, at least i'm here to keep you company till the afterlife

(I GUESS IT'S TIME, MY WILL TO FIGHT IS DRAINING FASTER THAN I CAN PREVENT)

Let's just hope you can find your peace in a better place

(I DON'T WANT THIS TO REALLY BE MY END)

[12]

In the end, i'm too much of a coward to enter the deepest pits of the belly of the beast

(IN THE END, ALL I NEEDED WAS TO PASS AWAY NOT ALL BY MYSELF IN THE DARK)

I'm sorry, let's hope you find a better place

(IT'S THE END, I CAN'T FIGHT IT)

I'm sorry i couldn't do more than i have

(I CAN'T FIGHT LONG--)

(I CAN'T- SOMEONE HELP..!)

[13]

I'm sorry, nobody else is around to help

I'm sorry, i wanted to try but i'm scared...

Rest in peace

Luigi Mario

1983 - 1997

I'm-a Luigi, number one!

#spooker's banger lyrics #fnf #mario madness #L Is Real #SoundCloud

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tryingtimi · 2 months ago

Note

66 for the spotify wrapped writing game?

Glitter in Your Eyes & Mistletoe Kiss 🎊

Okay, I'm sorry this is another convoluted post. First off, thank you so much for the prompt! I combined this one with two things from this prompt list too: Mistletoe Kiss and Glitter in Your Eyes. Also I love this song so much, and even tho it was a Cronlyn one for a long time, it fit perfectly for Liahn x Yune too. Second, I would like to bring back the mistletoe kiss tag game, so here we go. (look over that i dont have a mistletoe exactly in the story, it counts as one, alright? lol)

Rules from before: If anyone wants to join in and turn this into a mistletoe tag game for the holidays, I’d love to see yall’s OCs kissing under a mistletoe, or your WIPs version of it! Whether in-world or a modern AU version where mistletoes exist. tagging: @bloodlessheirbyjacques, @the-void-writes, @aalinaaaaaa, @forthesanityofstorytellers, @wildswrites, @odysseywritings, @dyrewrites and anyone who wants to join in, take this as a free invitation!

DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | FLUFF | NON-CANON | WC: 1,465

Finely dressed guests mingled in the decorated room as the piano’s slow singing filled it to the brims.

Kil’s fingers brushed the black and white keys so softly, Liahn could not imagine those roughened, scarred knuckles bending to such gentle music if she couldn’t see it. The crowd lingered, swaying to the melody Pheni sang alongside. Red-orange fire crackled quietly in the glittering fireplace, luring some clan members close, their little circle waxing and waning as the cold kept peeking in and out through the window. Outside the snow was falling at a steady pace, a breeze sometimes curious enough to tiptoe inside.

Crystal glasses in hands, the members chattered, chuckled, and smiled at the pair ruling the parlour.

Liahn put down her half-empty glass on the tall table, watching her brother and sister-in-law in content. Pheni’s pomegranate red dress glinted whenever she moved a little closer to Kil, her voice like the first warm touch in the cold afternoon. Liahn’s brother concentrated on the keys, yet a stolen smile found his lips as Pheni put a hand on his shoulder before the next verse.

“They never run out of things up in their sleeves.”

Liahn offered Fang a smile as she joined her by the table. Her white suit flexed over her muscles when she drank the last of her drink, the wine-red shirt under buttoned only enough so her tattoos still could peek through on her neck and chest.

“Never,” Liahn agreed, thinking of all the times she thought her brother could not do something, just to discover he could. Quiet proficiently. “Life is just that unfair, I gathered.”

Fang scoffed, accepting the glass pushed to her by Liahn.

“For life to be unfair, it should need intention, little cub. Life doesn’t care. They’re just restless.” And that was true. Neither Kil, nor Pehni ever stopped before they were the best in their choice of occupation. A match made in the heavens, some said.

The melody invited hums along, subtle, yet enough to feel like a choir. Inseo stood not far from Kil and Pheni, a calm settling on her figure too. Liahn’s father and Inseo had the same solemn expression on their face, yet it lacked any of the distance and cold. They were surrounded by some members, one-two words were exchanged from time to time.

Fehn was nowhere to be seen.

Liahn kept roaming the crowd with her gaze, finding her little sister’s friends around, but not her. Well, she must have had things to do. She was a thornado on feet, after all.

Her eyes kept searching, as they did for a while now.

“Looking for someone?” Fang asked, grimacing after a sip of Liahn’s drink.

“Just looking.”

She didn’t turn to the big woman, a rare kind of warmth sneaking in her cheeks. She could have blamed it on the drink, but she didn’t. It wasn’t a question or a dilemma. A secret, perhaps. Yet not a thought to be banished. Liahn looked from member to member, slowly, and privately. Soft smiles, and suits, beautifully tailored dresses and stolen touches. Many faces, decorated green life, candles and hanging lights, yet nothing.

Liahn’s eyes met Kil’s as he looked to the side. His smile turned, the signature — and infuriating — confidence shining through a half-curve. He lifted his brows, then nodded to the left with his chin.

As the music became louder by the constantly joining hums, the door on Lianh’s left opened. A chilling breeze slipped inside, eager and giddy with snowflakes. Liahn pulled her half-burgundy, half-white jacket tighter a bit, but her grip lightened when she looked to the side.

Fehn stepped inside, flashing teeth by the curve on her painted lips.

And behind her, Yune came.

Their thick dresses shimmered and swirled around their form as they closed the door, giggling while trying to brush away the melting snowflakes. Yune’s hair straightened where the drops touched her curled locks. Her face was powdered, lips blushing from paint. Their eyes met, and Liahn couldn’t take her gaze from the rare sight of charcoal strokes over the round edges of Yune’s sight. The brown of her irises glinted like the lacquered wood of the room.

“That took you long enough, baby cub,” Fang mused as she handed Yune Liahn’s drink. “But you look nice, niece.”

“Thank you.”

Yune smiled, and Liahn noticed some sparkling freckles on her cheeks.

“A good work needs time, Fang, and besides, you’re really going to praise only her for it? That’s just cruel.” Fehn twirled to the gathering, not stomping away, but Liahn could see her face slightly puffing as she huffed through her short walk.

Fang chuckled, flashing a silver teeth. “She’s in her element.”

“She’s excited. Everyone wears her and Pheni’s handiwork, after all.”

Yune gravitated towards the table. She didn’t seem to think twice before she settled on the side closest to Liahn, her thawing skin radiating a subtle kind of cold. There was a glitter in her eye, that Liahn couldn’t put anywhere.

Yet, she found it fit her. The same swirl of glitter was left in Fehn’s wake as well.

Yune’s skin prickled with goosebumps on her arm. The room had a nice temperature, yet the opened door left a lingering chill around the table.

Liahn placed her jacket over Yune’s shoulders. “We can go over the fireplace.”

“You should, go and warm up. I’ll make peace with little cub in the meantime.” And with that Fang strolled over the other side, leaving the two women to themselves.

“I’m fine,” Yune said, smiling and never breaking the eye contact. She thanked the jacket with a subtle bow, the glitter dancing on her face and hair.

“I know.”

Still, Liahn put a gentle hand on Yune’s back to show her the way. Kil and Pheni finished their song, and the applause swallowed Yune’s darling scoff. She let herself guide to the dressed-up fireplace, the brick already warming their body from a fair distance.

Liahn clapped alongside the crowd, but she kept her eyes in the corner — at Yune. “You’re beautiful.”

People gathered around Kil and Pheni, and then some surrounded Fehn and Fang, congratulating the youngest for her tailoring work. The gathering sprinkled into small groups, all closing their circle. No one looked Liahn’s way for now.

Yune’s eyes crinkled from the widening smile. “So do you. Red always suited you.”

“It did?” she asked, then gently pulled her glass out of Yune’s fingers. “I didn’t know. And this was mine, so believe me, I’m doing you a favour.”

Liahn poured the contents out the open window.

“Well then, aren’t you my hero?” Yune teased, linking her arm to Liahn’s. From so little a distance, she could finally see. The frackles from earlier, and the sparkling of her eyes were all glitter. A twinkling touch that turned Yune into a fallen star. She smiled up at Liahn with that glint in her eyes.

Liahn couldn’t help but bring a hand to Yune’s cheeks, her palm soft against the shimmering skin.

“You glitter.” It wasn’t a question or a statement. It was a wonder. Amusement — to see what she always did whenever she lay eyes on Yune. The stars, the moon, the sun. Light, that shone bright enough to warm you to the bones.

Yune leaned into the touch. “Fehn accidentally knocked over the whole bottle.”

“A mad little genius, this Fehn.”

The room seemed to quiet around them as they kept staring at each other, Liahn’s eyes roaming every spark, and every corner of Yune’s face. She brushed and knew the contours by heart, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off. Her thumb moved almost on its own, brushing under Yune’s blushing lips.

The heat licked Liahn’s back, when she leaned over eventually.

She kissed off the tint from Yune’s lips, the sweet, yet sour taste foreign on her tongue. Yune moulded into her front, one hand softly pulling on Liahn’s shirt. It was to hold onto something, anything, or else she would crumble. Liahn knew because her fingers did the same on Yune’s chin, and shoulder. Their kiss was a short one, but it echoed in their chest even when they parted.

As Liahn opened her eyes, she caught a glimpse of Kil way behind Yune, amidst the clueless crowd. He smiled enough so his eyes disappeared, then lifted his glass a touch, toasting at them silently.

#Project Sasin #Hora Liahn #Hora Fehn #Grey Fang #Lin Yune #Hora Kilto #writeblr #writing community #mistletoe kiss tag game #idk man im just excited to see if anyone will join #cuz i loved that one time we did it lmaooo #lesbian #Liahn x Yune #wanna see those OCs heads bump #allthatthawsinthecold

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aghost-writer · 14 days ago

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Goddess

Chapter 11

This is a Yandere Haikyuu x Female Reader Fic!

MDNI!!

Y/N quickly combed through her hair, trying to smooth down the tangles from her restless sleep. Her mind raced as she hurried to dress, feeling the weight of Ittesu’s presence just beyond the door. She grabbed a pair of shorts and pulled them on, followed by a thin robe that she tied loosely at the waist. Glancing at her reflection, she noticed the faint scars scattered across her thighs—old memories she preferred to leave untouched. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair one last time before stepping out of her bedroom.

As she entered the living room, Ittesu’s eyes followed her, his gaze soft and observant as always. Y/N avoided his stare, her heartbeat quickening, and sat down on the loveseat across from him. The quiet tension in the room was palpable, but Ittesu was patient, waiting for her to settle in before he spoke.

"I wanted to check on you after what happened at Aoba Johsai," Ittesu began, his voice calm but filled with concern. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes focused entirely on her. "That was...a lot to go through, Y/N. I saw what happened, and I couldn't stop thinking about you."

Y/N shifted uncomfortably, curling her legs beneath her and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart pounded in her chest as she recalled the incident—the faces of those fangirls, the sudden chaos, the helplessness that washed over her as they attacked her out of nowhere. She had felt like prey, cornered and vulnerable, but she didn’t want to dwell on it now.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice soft, almost dismissive. She forced a small smile, not meeting his eyes. "Really, Ittesu, I’m okay."

But Ittesu didn’t buy it, not completely. He knew her too well. His eyes searched her face, noting the tiredness in her eyes, the way her body was slightly tense even though she was trying to appear relaxed. She could sense his hesitation, the way he was trying to piece together what was really going on with her.

"Y/N," he said gently, his voice dipping lower, almost coaxing her to open up. "You don't have to pretend with me. What happened was terrifying, and it's okay to not be okay. You don't have to be strong all the time."

Y/N’s smile faltered for a moment, and she looked away, her fingers tightening the knot of her robe around her waist. She felt a mixture of guilt and exhaustion settling in her chest. It was true—she wasn’t okay. The attack had shaken her in ways she hadn’t even fully processed yet, but she didn’t want to be a burden to him. Not now. She had to stay composed, to keep moving forward.

But Ittesu wasn’t fooled. He leaned forward, resting a hand on the arm of her loveseat, his touch warm and reassuring. "I was there, Y/N. I saw everything, and I saw how you tried to hold it together, even when you were hurt. You don’t have to do that anymore, not with me."

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes finally meeting his, and in that moment, she let her guard down—just a little. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. The silence between them was thick with unspoken words, and Ittesu took it as a sign to keep going. He slid closer to her, his hand gently resting on her knee, the contact grounding her in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and safe.

"You’ve been through enough," he whispered, his thumb brushing lightly over her knee, careful not to touch the scars she tried to hide. "I don’t want you to carry this alone."

Y/N’s breath hitched, and for a second, she let herself believe that it was okay to lean on someone else. She nodded slowly, her eyes brimming with emotions she didn’t have the words for. She wasn’t falling apart—not completely—but she didn’t stop him from thinking she was.

Ittesu wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him, and Y/N rested her head against his chest, letting out a slow, shaky breath. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, and for the first time since the incident, she felt a sliver of peace creeping in, though she wasn’t sure how long it would last.

"I’ve got you," Ittesu murmured into her hair, his hand gently rubbing her back in soothing circles. "You don’t have to be afraid anymore."

Y/N closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax into his embrace, even though her mind was still swirling with thoughts she couldn’t voice. She didn’t know how to explain what was really going on inside her, how the fear and anxiety from the attack had wormed its way into her thoughts at random moments, how she felt so exposed even in the safety of her own home.

But she let him think she was breaking—let him believe that she needed his comfort more than anything. It wasn’t a complete lie. Maybe she needed this closeness, just for a moment, to remind herself that she wasn’t alone. Even though she was far from okay, she didn’t have to fight this battle entirely on her own.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, as she rested her hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

"You don’t have to thank me," Ittesu replied softly, holding her a little tighter. "Just let me be here for you."

For a long while, they sat there in silence, the weight of the past few days settling between them. Y/N let herself sink deeper into the warmth of his embrace, her mind slowly calming, though the shadows of what happened at Aoba Johsai lingered at the edges of her thoughts.

When Ittesu finally pulled back slightly, he looked down at her, his eyes filled with understanding and care. "If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here," he said, his voice still gentle but firm. "Anytime, Y/N."

Y/N nodded, giving him a small, grateful smile. "I know," she replied softly, though she wasn’t sure if she’d ever find the words to explain what was really going on in her head. But for now, this was enough. ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡ ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡

After Ittesu left, Y/N stood at the door, her hand still gripping the doorknob as if it could anchor her in the moment. His presence had a way of filling every inch of space, and even in his absence, it lingered, heavy in the air. She sighed softly, pressing her back against the door for a moment before pushing herself away. As the quietness of the house settled around her, she felt the familiar weight of exhaustion begin to creep back in.

She made her way to the hallway mirror, and as soon as she caught sight of her reflection, a tired groan escaped her lips. She looked terrible, even worse than she felt. Her hair was a wild mess, despite her half-hearted attempt to brush it earlier, and the dark circles under her eyes had only deepened, giving her a hollow, almost haunted look. Her skin was pale, and her lips were chapped, remnants of her sleep deprivation from the past few nights. Her oversized t-shirt, the one she had slept in, hung loosely on her, barely covering the random scars that dotted her thighs.

"God, I look like hell," Y/N muttered to herself, pulling at her hair in an attempt to tame it, though the effort was fruitless. She leaned in closer to the mirror, examining her face with a critical eye, but there was no hiding the exhaustion written all over it. Her mind wandered back to Ittesu’s visit, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had noticed how rough she looked. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks momentarily, but she quickly pushed the thought away.

Shaking her head, she stepped away from the mirror and headed toward her small office space. She needed to refocus her energy on something else, something more productive. The events of the past few days had left her feeling unsteady, but there was one thing that could give her a sense of control, a way to ground herself. She reached her desk, her eyes flicking toward the dark screens of her computers, the ones connected to the cameras she had planted in the Nekoma gym last night. The idea of checking in gave her a strange sense of calm, a reminder that she was still in charge of her own narrative.

Y/N sat down, her fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard as she powered up the machines. The room hummed to life, the screens lighting up with feeds from the gym. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes scanning the various camera angles she had meticulously set up. Everything was working perfectly, just as she had planned. The gym was empty, just as it should be this early in the morning, but the sight of the pristine court brought a small, satisfied smile to her lips.

The microphones picked up the faint buzzing of the overhead lights and the occasional creak of the building settling. It was quiet, peaceful even, and Y/N allowed herself to relax as she watched the empty space. The act of surveillance was calming, a way to regain control in the face of everything else that felt chaotic in her life. After the traumatic events at Aoba Johsai and the emotional weight of Ittesu’s visit, this was a much-needed reprieve.

Her thoughts briefly returned to Ittesu, to the way his eyes had raked over her body when she had answered the door. Despite her embarrassment over her appearance, there had been something reassuring in the way he looked at her, like he saw more than just her disheveled state. Ittesu had always been kind to her, always treated her with a tenderness that sometimes left her feeling vulnerable. But that vulnerability wasn’t something she could afford to dwell on right now. Not with everything she had planned.

Her gaze shifted back to the gym feeds, watching as the stillness persisted. It was strange how comforting it could be to simply watch an empty room. But this was her way of helping, her way of supporting Ittesu from a distance. The cameras, the microphones—this was her contribution, her role in the game. And she would always play her part perfectly.

She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she monitored the feeds. Nothing was out of the ordinary, but that was how she liked it. Predictable. Controlled. For now, there was no need to interfere, just watch and wait. This was just the beginning, after all. She had set everything in motion last night, and now it was a matter of patience.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched the empty court, imagining the possibilities. She would always do what was necessary to help Ittesu, no matter the cost. Even if it meant stepping further into the shadows, she was prepared. This was for him, and she would always make sure he was protected, even if he didn’t know it.

Y/N’s eyes flitted across the different camera angles, each one providing a clear view of the gym. The microphones picked up nothing but the soft hum of the lights. It was almost serene. She leaned back in her chair again, crossing her arms as she let her mind wander.

She thought about her own exhaustion, the way her body was screaming for rest. But sleep could wait. There was always something more important to take care of, always another step in the plan. And as long as she had a purpose, as long as she could contribute to Ittesu’s world, she could push through the tiredness.

With a quiet sigh, Y/N leaned forward again, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Maybe just a few more minutes of watching wouldn’t hurt. The team wouldn’t arrive for practice for a while, and she could afford to keep an eye on things a little longer. This was her space, her moment of control. And in this quiet solitude, she could find a sense of peace.

The night was calm, the gym was empty, and everything was in place. Y/N smiled to herself, satisfied with the work she had done. This was her way of helping, her way of staying one step ahead. And for now, that was enough. ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡ ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡

Iwaizumi stood near the gym doors, arms crossed, his brow furrowed deeply in irritation. The morning light filtered in from the high windows of the Aoba Johsai gym, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Oikawa, ever the charismatic figure, leaned casually against the wall, a slight smirk playing on his lips despite the tension hanging in the air. His carefree posture only served to aggravate Iwaizumi further.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Iwaizumi growled, his voice low and tight with frustration. His eyes bore into Oikawa, whose nonchalance only fanned the flames of his anger.

"What did I do this time, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa replied, feigning innocence as he pushed off the wall and stood straight. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit, his smirk unwavering. "I can't control everything that happens."

Iwaizumi took a step forward, his posture rigid with barely-contained irritation. "You pushed her too hard. You’re always doing that with her. And now, thanks to your stupid obsession with winning and looking good, Y/N canceled our session."

Oikawa’s expression faltered, just for a second, before he quickly recovered. "So now it's my fault she canceled?"

"Of course it's your fault!" Iwaizumi shot back, his voice louder now. "You know damn well what happened. You’re constantly dragging her into your nonsense, making her be there for every practice, every event. And now this—this mess with those fangirls? You should’ve been more careful! You always have to be the center of attention, don’t you? And now look at the result."

Oikawa’s eyes narrowed at the accusation, his easygoing demeanor slipping away. "You think I wanted this to happen?" His voice was quieter, but there was an edge of defensiveness. "I didn’t ask for those fangirls to go crazy. They just—"

"They just what? You think that makes it better?" Iwaizumi cut him off, stepping even closer. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve done something instead of basking in their attention, like you always do. But no, you had to let it get out of hand. And now Y/N is the one who’s suffering because of it."

Oikawa clenched his jaw, his smirk now long gone. The tension between them was palpable, both of them standing toe-to-toe, eyes locked in a heated standoff.

"I didn’t think it would get that bad," Oikawa muttered, his gaze dropping momentarily. "I didn’t think—"

"Exactly. You didn’t think." Iwaizumi’s voice softened slightly, but his frustration remained. "You never think about the consequences of your actions, especially when it comes to her."

Oikawa looked away, biting the inside of his cheek as he leaned against the wall again, this time without the relaxed confidence from earlier. "I didn’t mean for her to get hurt."

"Whether you meant it or not, it happened. And now she’s not coming to practice. She’s distancing herself because of what happened." Iwaizumi ran a hand through his hair, his anger giving way to concern. "She needs time, and I don’t blame her for canceling. After what she went through…"

The gym fell into silence as both of them stood there, the weight of Iwaizumi's words sinking in. Oikawa crossed his arms, his brows knitting together in frustration. He hated the idea that he might’ve played a role in Y/N’s decision, even if unintentionally.

"She’s stronger than you think," Oikawa muttered, more to himself than to Iwaizumi. "She’ll bounce back. She always does."

Iwaizumi scoffed, shaking his head. "This isn’t about her bouncing back, Oikawa. She shouldn’t have to bounce back from anything. She’s not part of your fan club, and she’s not just another person for you to throw into your games. She deserves better than that."

Oikawa’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t argue. He knew Iwaizumi was right, even if he didn’t want to admit it. The last thing he wanted was to make Y/N feel like she was just a pawn in his pursuit of greatness. She was more important than that.

"I’ll talk to her," Oikawa said quietly, his gaze still averted. "I’ll make it right."

Iwaizumi let out a sigh, finally relaxing his stance a little. "You better. For her sake." He paused, his expression softening. "She doesn’t need this kind of stress right now. You know that."

Oikawa nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of the situation fully settled in. He had pushed too far, let things spiral out of control, and now Y/N was the one paying for it. He wasn’t sure how to fix it, but he knew he had to try.

"Just don’t mess it up any more than you already have," Iwaizumi added, though his tone was less accusatory this time. "And for once, think about someone else before yourself."

Oikawa’s lips twitched into a small, humorless smile. "Iwa-chan, I always think about other people. It’s just that I also think about how I can win at the same time."

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that’s the problem."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Iwaizumi finally sighed and turned away, walking toward the gym doors. "I’ll catch up with you later. I’ve got stuff to do."

Oikawa watched him leave, the weight of the argument still hanging heavy in the air. He stayed there for a moment, leaning against the wall as he replayed the conversation in his head. Iwaizumi was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d let his ego get in the way, and now Y/N was suffering for it.

But Oikawa wasn’t one to let things stay broken for long. He’d fix it. Somehow.

And next time, he promised himself, he wouldn’t let his need for attention come at the cost of someone he cared about. ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡ ♡⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ⌒*:ﾟ♡

Y/N sat quietly in the bleachers, her eyes focused on the volleyball court below. Karasuno's practice was in full swing, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor and the thud of the ball hitting hands echoing through the gym. She tapped her pen absently against her notebook, jotting down notes on the players' movements and strategies, her mind half-engaged in the action before her.

The team’s energy was infectious, each member giving their all as they worked together, honing their skills. But Y/N’s focus wasn’t entirely on them. Every few seconds, the soft vibration of her phone would pull her attention away from the court. She glanced down at the screen, her lips pressed into a thin line as the familiar name appeared again and again.

Kenma.

The messages ranged from apologies to desperate pleas for her to respond. Her screen filled with texts, each one more insistent than the last.

“I’m sorry I passed out.”

“Please, can we talk?”

“Y/N, I didn’t mean for it to happen. Please don’t ignore me.”

“I need to see you.”

She clenched her jaw, feeling a wave of irritation surge through her. It wasn't like she hadn't expected this. Kenma, with his soft-spoken demeanor and introverted nature, had a way of attaching himself to her in a way that often felt suffocating. She had tolerated it for a long time, playing her part, but after last night? After the hotel?

She wasn’t in the mood.

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the screen, contemplating whether to respond. The buzzing wouldn’t stop, each message pushing her patience further. But she had already made her decision—she wasn’t going to acknowledge him, not now. Not after everything that had happened.

With a quiet sigh, she silenced her phone and slipped it into her bag, focusing back on the game in front of her. She scribbled a few more notes, noting how Kageyama and Hinata’s sync was improving, how Daichi was managing the team from the back, keeping everything running smoothly. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the phone.

Kenma’s texts haunted her like a persistent fly, buzzing at the back of her mind.

She could imagine his pale face, his wide, pleading eyes as he sent message after message, waiting for her to respond, expecting her to forgive and forget like she always did. But this time, something felt different. Maybe it was the way he had clung to her at the hotel, the way Kuroo’s possessive arm draped over him, the way Kenma seemed too caught in his own emotions to care about what she wanted.

A spike from the court brought her attention back, and she watched as Hinata launched himself into the air, hitting the ball with a ferocity that belied his small stature. It was impressive, the way the first-year threw himself into everything, determined to prove himself as the best. Y/N respected that kind of drive. It was refreshing compared to the emotional mess she was dealing with off the court.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was longer, a call. Y/N’s fingers tightened around her pen as she stared at her bag, knowing who it was without even looking.

Kenma.

She let it ring. Let it buzz for a few more seconds until it finally stopped, the silence in its wake almost more jarring than the constant buzzing.

The practice continued without pause, the players shouting to each other as they moved across the court. Y/N watched with detached interest, scribbling down a few more observations, trying to bury her irritation in the routine of note-taking. But her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

Kenma had always been difficult to read, even in their closest moments. His quiet nature made him seem detached, but Y/N knew better. He was obsessive, needy in a way that often caught her off guard. She had managed to navigate it so far, but after the hotel incident, things felt... off. Something in their dynamic had shifted, and Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to put it back the way it was.

She glanced back at her bag, almost daring herself to check her phone. But she didn’t. Instead, she leaned back in the bleachers, crossing one leg over the other, and watched as the practice started winding down. Coach Ukai shouted out instructions, guiding the players through their last few drills, his voice gruff but encouraging.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message. Another attempt from Kenma.

Y/N clenched her jaw, feeling the tension rise in her chest. She took a deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm, to stay in control. She wasn’t going to give in. Not today.

The players gathered in the center of the court, panting and sweating, their faces flushed with effort. Y/N made a few final notes, her handwriting neat and controlled despite the storm brewing inside her.

When the practice ended, she packed up her things methodically, ignoring the weight of her phone in her bag. The buzzing had finally stopped, but she knew it wouldn’t last. Kenma wouldn’t give up that easily. He never did.

As she stood and slung her bag over her shoulder, Y/N took one last look at the court. The players were huddled together, laughing and chatting, their energy infectious. She envied their simplicity, their ability to focus solely on the game without the emotional baggage weighing them down.

With a quiet sigh, Y/N made her way out of the gym, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. Her phone remained silent for now, but she knew it was only a matter of time before the buzzing started again.

And when it did, she would be ready to ignore it once more.

#haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #yandere #yandere x reader

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shantalangel · 2 months ago

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Some thoughts. The game, of course, shows Tut's story as so-called comedy, but if to think about the context… seriously, it's scenario of 18+ horror movie:

You live a wonderful life of a normal teenager (I don't know how old he is, but clearly under twenty), and not just some ordinary person but the heir to the throne; because of this, of course, your entire life everyone treat you like a treasure (and yes, most likely, they raise you a fragile flower that cannot stand up for himself (though I don't know the full picture here, since I'm judging by the beginning of the plot)). And then, out of nowhere, your closest relative tortures you until you die, after which kidnaps you, and you find yourself in a completely unfamiliar nightmarish place where only "living" things are your half-decayed body, which for completely mysterious reasons can move, and an unknown animate object which tells you something about your stolen soul. The first, second and third thing, of course, are complete nonsense for you, bordering on insanity, because you are not a magician and have never met anything similar before.

As a result, you are now completely alone with your thoughts of this whole wild situation and complete ignorance of whether your entire family has betrayed you and whether at least someone is going to save you, and if not, then what to do at all.

Moreover, you're locked in a prison, piled high with human corpses and torture devices (don't know though if Tut knows what iron maidens are), and with a huge pit filled to the brim with severed human heads – all of which was obviously dragged here by either your precious relative or some other kidnapper. Of course, maybe if you're already dead, your views on death somehow changes - like, if it no longer threatens you, then what to fear? But, on the other hand, you exist, obviously, only as long as you have at least some kind of body - lose it, and your soul will end up who knows where, and who knows in what state (hope Tut at least doesn't feels that as soul he is sealed in an urn), as if you've died again, what is no good already. And also, my God, your normal child psyche is locked inside your own corpse! No way it will stay normal for long in such a state.

And, in addition to all this, absolutely unclear who, with unclear goals (at least for me, at the very beginning of the game and from monkey god’s words, it is unclear whether the monkey is going to save the poor guy later), is exploiting you simply because "Oh, how convenient, you can't die! Now we need you to go through some masochism!!" and gods having some feuds between them.

God forbid such a “comedy” appear in your dreams at night… O.o

#sphinx and the cursed mummy #satcm #sphinx

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rosenongrata · 10 months ago

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an offer taken – i

summary: After running into Galene – a Dreamscape Motivator – in the Golden Hour of Penacony, Dr. Ratio and Aventurine find themselves trying to get information out of her – only for the tables to turn.

a/n: i am bored. more HSR OC blurbs. woo yeah?

cw/s: mostly just the boys going at each others throats (normal). sort of OC x Canon but also not really. OC-insert. POTENTIALLY OOC.

wc: 1.2k

"You truly think a naive Dreamscape Motivator will have any…tangible information? You sound desperate." Dr. Ratio sighs, his gruff voice filled to the brim with mild disappointment.

"Bet!" Aventurine protests, "I found one not too long ago, actually. I have a good feeling about her." He says with a pointed finger and prideful grin, but never does his smile reach his eyes.

"Okay…" Dr. Ratio holds back a groan, "And what is her name? Where is she?" He crosses his arms, his features stricken with what could be boredom.

"Follow me, my good sir!" Aventurine nods before striding away, his "friend" not too far behind him. "Her name is Galene. She's got a really sweet smile!" He notes aloud.

"…I am far too uninterested in what her smile is like, Aventurine." The doctor's eyes roll.

"C'mon, Dr. Ratio, lighten up a little! You have to appreciate the little things life has to offer sometimes." The blonde advises sagely.

"…Right." The azure-haired man sighs.

"Hey again, Ms. Galene! Or, uh—" Aventurine stumbles over his words as he takes smooth steps up to her seat outside of a restaurant, "Are you…?" He blinks, curiously glancing down at her where she sits.

"Hehe, I am not married…or even with anyone." Galene smiles, her light pink eyes twinkling under the Golden Hour's city lights. She places the small cup of her drink back down on its coaster.

"Ohhh," He nods and grins, "Are you looking for anyone—"

Dr. Ratio clears his throat loudly from behind Aventurine – he's had enough shenanigans for one day. The professor would much rather get this meeting over with as quickly as possible. All he desires is a long, hot bath to cleanse himself from the filth and sins of the world—

"Oops." Aventurine laughs sheepishly, "This is Doctor Veritas Ratio – he, uh, is…a friend of mine!" He lies through his teeth.

"Good evening, Dr. Ratio," Galene rises to her feet, offering her hand to the esteemed doctor, "I'm sure Mr. Aventurine has already told you, but… I am Galene, a Dreamscape Motivator. It's my pleasure to meet you." She nods.

Despite his initial hesitation and how he stared a little too long at her hand, he gives her a firm handshake – only to have it returned rather roughly. He blinks - swearing to himself that she was about to rip his arm off during it. She could use some practice, that much he knows.

(I cannot tell how earnest and sincere she is right now… Albeit, I have barely met her, but… Something about her strikes me as odd.) He gives her a nod, keeping his thoughts to himself for now.

"Would you like me to order you two some drinks? I don't mind." Galene takes her seat at the table once more, one hand resting near her cup and the other on her lap.

"Sure! That sounds great! Although, I could pay instead, Ms. Galene. I'd hate to take your money away from you…" Aventurine offers.

"If she wants to pay, then let her pay." Dr. Ratio hisses.

Galene snickers, "Please, it's my treat." Her eyes crinkle with her smile.

And so the men take their seats, placing their drink orders in for her to pay for. Aventurine feels a tad bit of guilt in his gut but neglects the wrenching in favor of giving her his utmost attention. Dr. Ratio – on the other side of the table - merely listens to them chat, regardless of how bored he is with the whole scene.

Galene pushes her black-haired ponytail behind her shoulder before taking a sip of her dark-colored drink. When she sets it back down – handling the cup like porcelain – she turns her attention back to the two men.

"How are you both faring this evening?" She inquires, her voice soft and light - nowhere near intrusive to one's thoughts. If anything, hearing her speak is like a loving lullaby before bed.

"We're doing fine, thanks for asking!" Aventurine nods.

"I was going to say I am quite bored, actually." Dr. Ratio huffs, his arms crossing again under his chest.

"Aw, don't say that…" His comrade smiles wearily, "Sorry about him… He has no friends."

"Pardon?" Veritas groans.

Galene is hardly bothered by their bickering – if anything, she finds them amusing, eliciting soft giggles out of her. The men shoot her confused stares.

"I like you two already." She smiles a little brighter, "I know you probably find each other insufferable, but…" She glances away while she brushes stray hairs out of her face.

"But…we are amusing. Our plights are amusing—" Dr. Ratio deadpans.

"Y'know, I'm taking that in stride." Aventurine snickers, "A Dreamscape Motivator must be stressed a lot of the time with…the work they have to take on."

"I suppose so," She nods in agreement, "I'm not too stressed or overworked, though, I'm pretty happy so far. It's…nice to see others cheer up and smile."

"Fair enough." The blond shrugs, "You're very compassionate, Ms. Galene—"

"Must I sit here and watch you fail to flirt with her at every turn, Aventurine?" Veritas intercepts.

"I'm not—" He sighs and goes to retort, but is interrupted again.

"I beg to differ." The doctor scoffs.

And they break out into a hushed argument, leaving Galene to observe them up close.

(Silly boys…) She glances at the professor, (He's calmer but uncomfortably aloof and forthright. I'd even say he's a little too rude for his own good. He seems so confident, but he’s covering up insecurity.) She looks to Aventurine, (And… Aventurine is a sweetheart, but he hides things from everyone…even himself. I can see it in his vibrant yet lightless eyes. He's missing pieces of himself right now… Truly a pity.) She glances at the busy streets, (What would HooH think?)

“Well, boys, it’s been a fun time - thank you so much for the plentiful entertainment, hehe.” Galene snickers, poking fun at their poor chemistry.

She then swiftly rises to her full height – legs and back straight as she straightens her clothes and plucks her purse from the table.

“Are you leaving? We were such poor guests. Any way I can make it up to you?” Aventurine immediately offers, his smile softening when he locks eyes with her.

“I must leave, unfortunately. I have an appointment in reality soon,” She sighs wistfully, “But…” She hums thoughtfully.

“But?” The men say in unison and proceed to throw dagger-like glares at each other.

“But!” She perks up, grabbing a small business card from the breast pocket of her feather-lined coat, “…Feel free to contact me any time. You’re both cute in your own ways, so… Think about talking to me at my office some time soon. Though, one at a time, please.” She slides the card to Aventurine, the tips of their fingers kissing on accident,

“I’d love to pick your brains.”

She then promptly leaves after those rather ominous words – not giving the men a chance to say anything once they broke out of their speechlessness.

“Haha…” Aventurine laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Hoo boy… She, uh…” He sputters, unsure how to convey his thoughts.

“I do believe she has already figured us all out from this meeting alone. Why else would she offer us…therapy?” Dr. Ratio sighs heavily.

“Y’know what? I agree with you for once. She’s got us figured out.” The blonde sighs with him in unison, “I gotta say, though… We both sorely underestimated her.”

#mine #oc #original character #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x oc #hsr dr ratio #hsr aventurine #hsr oc #honkai star rail oc #fic: an offer taken #does this even count as a fic ?? whatever. fuck it we ball

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