#alone with the shell of your loved one in the void

[brigriv]

doomed timelines. 💔

[guess-my-next-obsession]

blue. | chapter three

pairing: bfd!joel miller x curvy!fem!reader

chapter warnings: series is 18+ only, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader's age is set at 25, joel is 40), best friend's dad trope, reader works at a bikini bar (race is a blank slate but reader is described as being curvy/plus size and is very much comfortable in her skin), dual POV, divorced!joel, alcohol consumption, shit female bartenders have to deal with (men), all the yearning

word count: 3.6k

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JOEL

“So, not to pry into your love life n’all, but—“

“But you’re goin’ to anyways,” I heave a sigh and set the oil-stained rag in my hands on the edge of the old pickup I’ve been working on all summer. Tommy was supposed to be here to help me with lifting the transmission, but it seems like my little brother has a secret agenda this afternoon. 

“Janelle said you flaked on her again,” he says, leaning back against my woodworking table in the garage. “What’s all that about?”

Contrary to what I told Blue last Sunday, I hadn’t seen Janelle in next to nothing. I hadn’t seen her at all. I got too in my head and flaked, choosing to spend my night at the bowling alley like some lonely old man. I don’t even like bowling. It just seemed like a good way to pass time until Sarah and Blue went to bed. 

“S’nothin’ against her,” I say, using the back of my hand to wipe the sweat off my brow. “Just not ready for anythin’ right now.”

“I don’t think she’s expectin’ you to get down on one knee anytime soon, Joel,” Tommy chuckles, rhat easy going smile on his face that I could never quite manage. “She just wants to go on a date. See if there’s a spark.”

There is no spark, I want to say. The only spark I feel is with a woman a decade and a half younger than me, who just so happens to be my daughter’s best friend. 

But I can’t say that. So, I go on the defensive. 

“Why are you so concerned with my love life?” I spit, folding my arms over my chest as I level a glare at him. “The ink isn’t even dry yet on me and Shannan’s divorce papers. Don’t I deserve some time to figure shit out?”

Tommy deflates a little, his shoulders dropping as he tilts his head towards the ground. “I know, and you do. I just…you’ve been alone for so damn long now. You and Shannan haven’t been a couple for years now. Sarah’s moved out. It’s just you in this big ole house. Just want you to be happy, s’all.”

“I’m happy,” I lie, and it’s a shitty lie at that. 

Since Sarah moved out for college and then made her home in Dallas, I’ve been a lonely old bastard. Shannan and I haven’t lived under the same roof since her affair five years ago, aside from a few shitty attempts at reconciliation. Tommy, Maria, and Benji stop by enough to fill the void, but it’s not like I’m a social butterfly. I’ve never been that way, despite Tommy’s best efforts to bring me out of my shell. 

At the end of the day, I’m just a man who enjoys the quiet comfort of being at home. I just wish I had someone else around to enjoy that quiet with. 

“Well,” Tommy shrugs, his smile looking skeptical but rooted in affection. “As long as you’re happy. I just think you should tell Janelle that maybe it’s not the right time yet. She’s under the impression you’re interested.”

Letting her down easy is the least I could do after flaking on her. But a part of me worries that if I call things off with Janelle, I’ll cave to the temptation to go see Blue at The Boot, and Lord knows that’s the last thing I need to be doing. 

“Yeah, I’ll call her up,” I say, turning back to the engine in front of me. “Now can we stop talkin’ about me and get to work on this truck?”

The Boot is busy tonight, but it always is on Saturday night. You don’t mind the chaos, not when customers tip as good as they do on hectic nights. The only downside to working weekend shifts is the bachelor parties that stumble in. Finance bros from Dallas and Austin’s most entitled pretty boys flocking to the closest thing to a strip club they can get away with without pissing off their fiancées. 

It’s something I never understood. How can someone be ready to commit to a person, to claim to love them enough to spend the rest of their lives with them, and yet still want to go out and spend the night vying for the attention of half-naked women? 

The booth occupied by a group of men in their late twenties seem more than content to spend the night whistling for whatever bartender or server in sight. Thankfully, you’re behind the bar and only have to deal with their harassment for as long as it takes to make their drinks, apart from the straggler in front of you that has made himself at home on the barstool across from your station. 

“What happens if you get wet?” he asks, his words slurred and obnoxious. 

You play along, allowing Blue’s playful persona to take over rather than the one that wants to tell him to go fuck himself. “Like a spill?” 

He smiles, all veneers and no charm. “You think I’m talking about spills, baby?” 

“Enlighten me,” you say, folding your arms on the counter and locking eyes with his glassy blue ones. 

“I mean, surely you’ve gotta see some dudes come through that get you horny,” he says, his eyes trailing from yours down to your cleavage. “What happens to that pretty lace if you get wet on the job?”

You can count the amount of times you’ve even come close to feeling aroused while working here on one hand. Scratch that. One finger. 

Joel Miller. That’s it. 

“You gonna be the one to pay for a new pair?” you tease, even though it physically hurts to pretend you enjoy this conversation in the slightest. 

“If I get to take those off you,” he says, grinning like a fool. Like a man who truly thinks he’s going to get lucky tonight. “What time are you out of here?”

“I—“ Your rejection is cut off by the sight of a familiar broad shouldered, dark haired, salt-and-pepper bearded man stepping into the bar with a scowl on his face. “I, uh…excuse me for a minute.”

You block out the sound of him calling after you as you make your way down the bar to where Joel stands with his hands in his pocket, waiting for a turn to order a drink from Diamond—a blonde college sophomore working to pay off her loans. 

“Joel,” you call out into the crowd, stealing his attention away from Diamond as she shakes a cocktail rather emphatically. The perpetual jealousy you feel where Joel’s concerned gnaws at you, but you ignore it. “I can get you down at my station.”

He nods, weaving through the crowd to the empty spot besides Mr. Veneers. 

“Hey,” he says with a clear of his throat. “Just a whiskey.”

“The good shit this time?” you ask, forcing a smile onto your face despite the flurry of emotions he stirs inside of you. Arousal, irritation, jealousy, deep, agonizing longing. 

One corner of his mouth quirks up just enough for you to notice it, and then it’s gone. “Dealer’s choice.” 

You get to work on filling him up a drink—top shelf, of course. You tell yourself you’d do that for any friend, but truthfully, you’ve never had a friend come by and see you at work. Not even Sarah knows what bar you work at. It’s just better that way. Keeps the personal and business parts of your life separate. 

Until now. 

“Here you go,” you say, sliding the tumbler across the wood to him. 

“Thanks, Blue,” he murmurs, avoiding your eyes. 

“So what time are you off, sweetheart?” Veneers chimes in like an annoying gnat of a man. “I got a backyard with a pool. We could go for a late night swim to make sure those panties get real wet.”

Joel’s eyes swing to the man beside him, dark and deadly and too fucking sexy. “What’d you just say?”

Veneers gives Joel a narrowed look, as if to silently berate him for daring to interrupt his poor excuse of a pick up line. “Mind your business, pops.”

Joel chuckles, the sound humorless and lethal to anyone with common sense. Unfortunately for Veneers, he seems to be lacking in that department. “Listen, son—“

“Joel,” you interrupt with a hiss. “Drop it.”

Joel sets his glass of whiskey down calmly and lets his head drop between his shoulder blades for a beat before lifting his eyes to meet yours. You give him a pleading look, silently begging him to not start a bar fight in your honor despite some twisted part of you that relishes in the fantasy. 

“What do you say, baby?” Veneers tries his luck one more time, and you watch as Joel clenches his jaw to keep himself from chiming in. 

“I don’t go home with customers,” you say, fixing a flirty smile onto your face like nothing ever happened. “Maybe catch me out in the wild and see what happens.”

Veneers smiles that horrible, plastic-y smile and gives you a wink. Poor guy thinks he has a shot. 

“Well I should get back to the boys,” he says, tapping his hand on the bar before drunkenly stumbling off his stool. “Let me know if you change your policy.”

“Mmhm, have fun,” you say, watching as he trips over his feet. 

“Dickhead,” Joel murmurs beneath his breath. 

“You can’t come in here and act like my bodyguard,” you snap, fixing a stern glare onto him. Joel quirks an eyebrow, his eyes dancing across your features as if he’s enjoying the sight of you pissed off at him. 

A confusing man, that Joel Miller.  

“You shouldn’t be coming in here at all,” you add with a sigh, shaking your head as you reach for an empty glass to pour yourself a water. “Don’t you have anything better to do on a Saturday than come in here and ruin my chance at a good tip?”

Janelle comes to mind, and your stomach starts to flip in that same nasty way it did when Joel all but admitted he fucked her last weekend. You wouldn’t tell a single soul this, the least of which Joel, but you very nearly threw up over the thought of him with another woman—which is something you’ve never done over a man. Whatever this infatuation with Joel is, it’s a heady one. 

“What’s your degree in, again?” he asks, avoiding your question altogether. 

“None of your business,” you reply, giving him a sardonic smile. Joel’s lips threaten to curl again, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s slightly out of his mind. That, or he just likes mean women. Judging by his ex-wife, that very well might be the case. 

“Just wonderin’ why you’re here doin’ this instead of—“

“Instead of what?” You rest your hands on your hips and raise your brows expectantly. 

“Instead of doin’ somethin’ that doesn’t involve dealing with idiots like that kid who sit here and harass you all night.” 

Your name gets called down the bar, your shift manager waving the latest schedule in the air. Sighing, you turn back to Joel. “Give me a minute.”

He lifts his hands, waving you off as you walk into the back room to sign off on this week’s schedule before coming back out. Joel’s in that same spot, only this time, his attention is fixed on Diamond who’s flashing her pearly whites at him like she’s paid to do. 

Only, you can’t help but wonder if like you, she’s actually taken a genuine liking to this customer. 

“So you build houses and stuff like that?” she asks, fixing her crystal blue eyes on him like he hung the moon in place. 

“I used to,” he says. “I own my own company now, so it’s mostly paperwork these days.”

“Do you miss it? Getting your hands dirty?” God, Diamond has the voice of a pornstar. How have you never noticed just how sultry and innocent she sounds? It makes your sarcastic, flirty persona look like amateur hour. 

“Hey,” you interrupt, tapping her on the shoulder. “Schedule’s up. Need you to sign it.”

“Be right back,” she tells Joel before skipping off towards the back room. Your eyes follow her petite but busty frame for a second before sliding back to Joel, expecting him to be staring at her too. Only he’s not. He’s looking at you. 

“She’s bubbly,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like a compliment. 

“She’s sweet,” you reply with a shrug. It’s true. Diamond is sweet and pretty and petite. By far one of the most popular bartenders here at The Boot, and for obvious reasons. “Seemed like you two struck up conversation fast. Does Janelle have some competition?”

You don’t know why you say it. It’s crossing a line into dangerous, touchy territory. One you’re not sure you want to venture into. 

Joel’s eyes wander from your eyes to your lips, your lips to your chest, your chest to your round hips. “Yeah. She’s got competition.”

With a sigh and not many ways to dance around the obvious, you fold your arms on the bar and stare at him point blank. “Why’d you come here tonight, Joel? Seems counterproductive to the whole forgetting we ever met plan.”

Joel let’s out an airy, dark chuckle and shakes his head. “Yeah, it is.”

You wait on him, giving him the space he needs to find the right words. There’s gotta be something other than your killer cocktails and superb customer service that he’s come back for. 

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. 

Joel heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders, avoiding your eyes as he spins the amber liquid in his glass around in circles. “With Sarah gone, the house is lonely. I don’t really go out to bars anymore, so I figured best to stick with the devil I know. Doesn’t hurt that y’all have good whiskey.”

“And pretty barbacks like Diamond to look at,” you tease. Joel’s eyes lift to meet yours, something equal parts dangerous and thrilling dancing in his eyes. 

“I haven’t been lookin’ at Diamond.” 

JOEL

With nothing better to do with my night, I decide to stick around the bar until closing. Seems that pretty boy from earlier has the same idea as he sits across the counter from Blue, eyeing her up like a piece of meat. 

She doesn’t bat a single eye at his ogling. In fact, she plays it to her advantage, giggling and shooting those flirty eyes at him every chance she gets. I know she’s just working him for his money, but damn it if that green little monster inside me doesn’t hate the sight of the two of them together. 

And I have no fucking reason to. 

I lift my ice water to my lips to wash away the bitter taste in my mouth. One whiskey was enough for me tonight. Any more and I’ll start thinking about what it might be like to slip that lacy set right off of Blue, and that’s the last thing I need to be doing. 

“Come on,” Pretty Boy begs, clasping his hands together as he watches Blue hand him his tab. “One night. No strings attached, I promise.”

Since when is that what a woman wants to hear? Please just let me fuck you once and then you’ll never hear from me again. Sign of the times, I suppose. 

“Sorry,” Blue shrugs, shooting him another one of those teasing smiles as she unties her apron, giving both of us a glimpse at the soft, supple skin hidden beneath it all night. 

God, her curves. She’s got the kind of body that sends a man straight to his knees in worship. Her thick thighs alone make me want to kneel at her altar. 

I’m so consumed with the sight of her that I don’t notice she’s walking towards me, sliding me a blank tab with a wink before leaning in an whispering conspiratorially, “Your drink’s on the house, but I don’t want to hurt his ego so just play along, alright?”

I nod along like a dazed fool and reach for my wallet in my back pocket before slapping my card down onto the check. I’m not even conscious enough to argue about the free drink, not when she’s walking away from me, swinging those full hips that make my hands itch. 

Pretty Boy pays his tab and heads out with his head hung, accepting the loss that is a night without Blue. It’s what I’m about to do, soon as I make sure she’s gotten to her truck alright. 

That fucking beater that looks like it should’ve been turned into scrap metal a decade ago, and yet she’s driving it like it’s new.

I sit here for at least another fifteen minutes, watching the girls head back to the kitchen while the managers close out the tills for the night. The last of the stragglers are stumbling their way out of the bar, and judging by the impatient glances I’m getting from the manager closest to me, my welcome has been overstayed. So, not wanting to get scolded, I get up and head towards the doors. 

“Wait up,” Blue calls from behind me. I turn to see her walking over with her purse slung over her shoulder, her lingerie swapped for a pair of daisy dukes and a white linen crop top that shows almost as much skin as before. 

I swing the door open and hold it for her before waving her through. It’s a mistake I realize immediately as my eyes fall to her plump behind. Clearing my throat, I try to think of something to say that doesn’t lean towards come home with me. “I’m payin’ for my drinks next time.”

She shoots me a smirk as she matches my slow pace, the two of us walking through the empty parking lot like two people who aren’t entirely inappropriate for one another. “Next time, huh?”

“Unless I get a life,” I joke, earning a laugh. It might be the first one I’ve pulled out of her, despite her chuckles and smiles the first night. This one has nothing to do with getting a nice tip. She’s just laughing because she thinks I said something funny. 

We carry on in silence, our feet crunching against the gravel as we near her truck that I may or may not have deliberately parked next to earlier. 

“Thanks for walking me to my truck,” she says as she slides her key into the lock and swings the driver door open. “I was half-expecting Veneers to be waiting for me out here.”

“No problem,” I say, rubbing the sweat off the back of my neck as I try not to watch her climb into her truck. 

She goes to start the engine, but it just whirs back at her, revving but never catching. I watch and wait for her to try it a few more times, each to no avail. 

“Shit,” she rests her head against the steering wheel with a thunk. 

My mouth opens before I can think twice about it. “I can give you a ride home.”

She lifts her head slowly, turning to meet my eyes with hesitation dancing in hers. “What about my truck? I can’t just leave it here.” 

“I’ll tow it tomorrow,” I say, already turning around and unlocking my own truck before getting it started so that the A/C can run for a bit. When I turn back around to face her, I find her watching me with a frown and a tilted head. “What?”

“I don’t want to put you out,” she says, her voice soft and forlorn. Like she’s more worried about being a burden than about the two of us being alone together. 

Maybe it’s just me. 

“You live a couple blocks down from me, right?” Sarah told me as much when I grilled her about who this friend of hers was before the party last weekend. Apparently, I hadn’t grilled her nearly enough. “You ain’t putin’ me out, alright? Not unless you keep makin’ me stand here in this heat.”

She smiles and a chuckle escapes her as she caves. Sighing as if I just asked the world of her, she hops out of her truck, grabs her bag, and locks up the rusty dinosaur she calls a vehicle. “Wouldn’t want to be reported for elderly abuse.”

I stop and glare at her as she walks by, keeping my face blank despite wanting to smile. A part of me thinks that if I give in even just a little--even just a smile--I’ll lose all footing and tumble headfirst into the mistake that would be the two of us. 

“Very funny,” I say, following her over to the passenger side so that I can open the door for her. She eyes me as I do just that, like I’m some sort of alien creature. “What?”

“I can open my own doors, you know.”

I shrug. “Doesn’t mean you have to. Now hurry up.”

“You’ve got a real bossy streak to you, you know that?” She hops into the passenger seat and I have to ignore the feeling in my chest--like all the puzzle pieces have come together now that she’s where she belongs.

Because this, right here with me, is the last place she belongs.

[whimsytwines]

Learning to Break

Summary: just a sweet but sultry blurb about Leon helping you through some hard times <3

Pairings: re2 Leon x Reader

Warnings: triggering content about mental health, self harm mentioned!!!!!!, MDNI, 18+, oral, piv, soft!dom Leon? <3 boyfriend leon 😘😘 porn with very little plot

Always trying to piece me back together, he deserves better

“Baby,” Leon cooed, holding you in his lap. “Look at me.”

You look up reluctantly from burying your face in his chest with a furrowed brow. Eyes tinged red with tears streaming down aching cheeks. Things were just hard. You had an insatiable ache- a void- within you that had a hankering for melancholy. It often manifested in cold numbness mistaken for bitchiness by your closest friends. But Leon knew you better than that. He could see through the cracked shell of a defense mechanism. He knew how to soften you up, how to make you feel safe in his arms.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Leon reassured, somehow reading your thoughts as his fingers danced in the strands of your hair. “Not ever.”

You mustered a nod and tried to catch your breath. You were a mess. Leon’s reassurances always dripped from his mouth like sweet honey; they were genuine and sweet, but at times you doubted them. How could he love someone like you?

Leon pulled you closer, still cradling you, still running his fingers through your hair. He hummed an unfamiliar tune- a lullaby in sound. Planting soft kisses on your forehead, he caught your gaze before he proceeded. You just couldn’t help but smile.

Turning your body towards him, he kissed gently all over your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. A sweet caress from his hands was enough to make you melt every time. And soon enough, he made his way down to your neck, sucking gently but passionately.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Leon whispered against your skin, the air of his breath making your skin tingle beneath it. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Your hands, now mangled in his hair, gripped tighter.

Leon cupped your breasts over the thin fabric of your shirt, still working on your neck. You threw your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“Leon,” you whined, feeling your arousal grow. Before you knew it, Leon hoisted you up by both legs, carrying you over to the couch. His hands undoubtedly strong but gentle as they carry you.

You then lay before him, sprawled out and needy. As he lowered himself to his knees, you could see the growing bulge through his grey sweatpants.

“Let me take care of you,” he affirmed, maintaining eye contact as he toyed with the hem of your shirt. You were wearing one of Leon’s old police academy shirts, which draped over you much differently than it did him.

As he got the shirt off you, he leaned down to your chest kissing each breast, squeezing and sucking. “So beautiful for me,” he whispered, licking around each bud.

You couldn’t help but moan out his name in delicate whines, and he couldn’t help but touch every part of you he could with those plush lips.

“You- you don’t have to…” you trailed off, feeling his fingers pull on the band of your panties.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do,” Leon said, confidence oozing from his husky voice alone. “And what I want is to taste every part of you.”

You nodded biting your lip, watching as his lips trailed up and down your inner thighs, brushing over your small scars. He kissed each one- his way of erasing the pain.

It was agonizing, watching him take his time before meeting your center. In one long stroke, he had already sent your back arching. After all, he was licking you up as if you were salvation itself.

Your moans grew louder, heavier, closer to what you needed. The neighbors of the apartment complex beat on the wall in annoyance, but Leon assured you to not worry. That you were safe to come undone.

His hands gripped your thighs, his tongue still circling your clit. “You deserve to feel good, baby,” he whispered against you, before increasing his pace.

With unexpected intensity, you came for him. Deafening moans rolled off your tongue, echoing off the walls as your moment of bliss crashed like waves. Leon watched intensely as your rode out your orgasm; he loved watching you let go, watching you come undone by his tongue.

As he came up, he hovered over you. One hand on your cheek, stroking your soft skin where your tears once were. “I love you so much,” Leon said, the other hand brushing the sweat off his forehead. “But I’m not quite done.”

In no time, he shimmied off his sweatpants to reveal his aching cock. He takes himself in hand, lowering himself down to you once again. Before entering, he teases, rubbing your slick folds with the head. Intentionally pressing your clit to elicit those sweet moans he loves.

“Leon,” you whimper, desperately needing him inside.

“Be patient, sweetheart,” Leon smirked, slightly clenching his jaw. He continued his motion of up and down, tempting you more.

You locked your eyes with his. He looked so sweet, so kind. You were just to lucky to be his.

When you moaned again, this time throwing your head back, he finally pushed himself in. Leon watched carefully as he pushed little by little, allowing you to adjust to his size. No matter how many times, he knew you needed him in increments because of his size.

“You feel incredible baby,” Leon whispered. “So perfect around me.”

You moaned, throwing your hands in his hair again, pulling him closer to you. Interchangeable moans filled the air between you as Leon increased his pace little by little. He was sure to be deliberate and not rush your pleasure.

With each stroke, he allows himself to almost fully pull out before thrusting back in, allowing himself to fill you up with each motion. Leon is steady, but he is passionate.

When he locks eyes with you again, he sings your praises. How you’re taking him so well, that you were made for him, that he loves feeling you inside.

“Think you can come for me again?” He asks, groaning as he quickens the pace more.

You nod, throwing your head back in the ecstacy only he can provide. “I- I’m close-“ you babble out, feeling your body begin to shake.

Leon then pushed your thighs back, deepening his thrusts. You cried out, feeling that familiar wave come back stronger.

“That’s it baby, go ahead,” he moaned, feeling your walls flutter at a rapid pace.

That’s when it came crashing, your second orgasm rushed over you. Leon’s name echoed once again off the walls of the apartment as you came for him again.

“I’m gonna come,” Leon said, huskily, his cock twitching inside as you rode out your orgasm.

Your walls squeezed him hard, helping him release inside. His jaw was slightly agape, eyes shut, whispering oh fuck as shot into you. There was nothing more he loved than this feeling- this feeling of knowing he could pleasure you in a way that was unmatched.

[gay-dorito-dust]

More pjo things that I’ve thought about. More or less things/ behaviours they only have towards you.

Percy would hate going back to an empty cabin, so he just drags you along with him instead.

He doesn’t like how void of life and laughter it is that sometimes he’d sneak himself into your cabin to join you if he couldn’t wait until the next day to see you.

Percy just hates being alone with his thoughts and stuff that he’s more then often doing anything in his power to not be on his own for longer then a hour, it typically never ends well and so he just tries to fill time by doing whatever he could with you in order to have his mind fixated on the new memories, and not the ones he’s still not ready to confront just yet.

Thoughts such as whether Luke was right (he was)

So yeah impromptu sleepovers at cabin 3 are a thing you do.

The gods ask far too much out of him, so when he has time with you, all he wants to do is either nothing at all or mundane things that reminded him that he was someone outside of being a demigod. So baking foods and dying them blue was a favoured pass time for you both before it quickly dissolved into a fight that ends with a really cute kiss.

You guys are sickeningly sweet to everyone but they can’t look away either because if they want to know what a healthy relationship looked like, they’d just look at you and Percy as he’s splashing you with water, meanwhile you can’t do shit because he can’t get wet unless he will himself to. You call him a cheater for this but find that you can’t stay mad at your water boy for very long when he’s giving you sea puppy dog eyes and a cute pout.

He’s even attempted to make you something out of the seashells he’s found amongst other things he’s found at the bottom of the lake, with some help of course, and would beam brightly when he sees that you’ve kept them in good use afterwards that he didn’t mind if a shell or two fell off because as long as you were using what he gifted you Percy didn’t care.

With Percy to be loved is to be a comforting thought, a guiding light in the bleaker moments and a tether to one’s own humanity.

Leo utilises his talents to make something for you that you end up having scattered across your bedside table.

He’s the kind to say ‘you want to kiss me so bad’ but the moment you do give him a kiss, whether it’s his lip, cheek, forehead or even his nose, he’s silent as a mouse and is looking at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

This dude is a living furnace and a sassy bastard, so if you’ve got a lot to get off of your chest please let this man be the first to know and he’s more then willing to cradle you in his arms as you both chat shit on those that you don’t like.

Leo doesn’t even need to hear the whole story to know whose side he’s on because it’s yours and only yours! He’s in your corner no matter what, hell he’d even support your wrongdoings if you wanted him to and needles to say he’s the man who boosts your self confidence more than anyone else. Without a shadow of a doubt.

Also by the end of the rants your more then likely to be fast asleep as this man runs hotter then most and Leo will shamelessly admire you as you slept against him before feeling left out and joining you in your dreams. He’s a sweetheart and wherever you went, Leo will always follow.

With Leo to be loved is to be seen, thought about and cherished as though you were a treasure only found once in a lifetime.

Nico would tolerate you more than others.

He keeps to himself but he can be often found within your company as though he were your second shadow.

He’s weary of the people who’d come your way, but that’s mainly due to the fact that he’s been through so much and had much taken away from him unfairly, he’s naturally going to want to keep a tight grasp on what he still has while he could.

So needless to say he forms somewhat an attachment to you that Chiron and Mr D considered borderline worrisome considering the hod whom Nico was the forbidden child of. Yet they knew that there wasn’t much that can be done to undo what had already been done.

So when your on quests, Nico is more then likely to follow afterwards if he can get away with it.

If he can’t then he’s most likely to stay near your cabin -the only thing that he had of you- and waits for you to come back on your bed, the longer your gone the more likely you’ll find him fast asleep in your bed, making you smile at how sweet he could be underneath his hardened persona.

You knew the sweet boy Nico use to be was still in there, and he knew it too, so don’t be surprised when he comes back from travelling through the shadows to bring you something that would make you feel a little less shittier. He acts like it doesn’t matter but he just wants you to be okay and doesn’t like the idea of being in able to help you when you’ve been nothing but accommodating to him and his needs after everything.

With Nico to be loved is to be at peace with the silence and welcome it, for words tends to loose meaning when overused to the point it losses meaning. For nothing every proclamation of love has to be said aloud, when it can be said in a whisper also.

Luke is overly more affectionate to you compared to the rest of camp and it shows.

There’s an arm being tossed over your shoulder here, and a nudge against your side with his elbow here, with a sprinkle of his head resting against your shoulder for added effect.

It was as if it came natural to the son of Hermes to always be touching you somehow, as though he couldn’t go a minute without having a hand on you to guide you away from other campers when he wanted to show you something he was keen you’d like.

While sitting at tables that weren’t your own was a camp rule not to be broken, Luke would either save you a seat at his table or even joins you at yours on the odd occasion, much to the curiosity of the rest of camp.

So you knew for certain this was going to be talked about for a good while as he only smiles mischievously at those who wanted to know what was going through his mind when doing such a thing, all despite knowing that he’ll end up with extra chores to do because of it.

He’s very intuitive towards you and poetically knows you better then you know yourself on most days, so it’s not surprising when he’s taking you out of a situation that you find stressful and somewhere less crowded for you both, only to find that he’s set up a lovely little picnic for you as well as you both overlooked the lake in comfortable silence as you just enjoy the others company.

With Luke to be loved is to be known deeper then any ocean, revered with respect and to be valued more then surface level.

[kakiastro]

Astrology Observations and notes of all things Cancer related

This how cancers act when they’re home alone😅, just vibes and music😅

In honor of Cancer season, If you have Cancer, 4h, dominate Moon aspects placements, this post is for you !

-besides Crabs, other animals such as Elephants, Wolves and Bears are also ruled by the moon

-cancers are known as the nurturing sign and they most definitely can be, however, they struggle with being feeling vulnerable. Due to their sweet aura, they attract all kinds of people but it takes a lot for them to come out their shell.

-Cancer energy can also be very cold when they get angry. I know they are known as being “cry babies” but from what I’ve researched and seen, they can turn cold like sub zero, they turn into their sister sign capricorns(dark side of cap) 😭🤚🏽 they have the memory of an elephant, they’ll remember what you did to them forever in this lifetime and the next 50😭

- people who have Mars Cancer do NOT play when it comes to protecting their family members. Their anger is down right terrifying because how sweet and naive they appear. Oh no, they turn full on gangsta if you hurt anyone they love. 🤺

- I noticed you all are named after someone in your family or you get told that you act like a certain family member. You may be named after a women in your family or get told you act like her in someway

-motherhood may be a big theme in your life. This can include your own mother, friends who are mothers, working with mothers. Even if you don’t want or have kids, motherhood is still apart of your life somehow. Maybe being a mother to your own mother, the mom friend, the cool auntie that gives off mom vibes, mom to your siblings.

-Moon/Neptune aspects may struggle with fog memory. They can remember the big things in their life but have trouble with the small events. Taking pictures or journaling can help with this. I also notice they have these random moments where they remember the most random things at random times😅

-Moon/Sun aspects have such a powerful energy about them. You really light the room

-Cancer rising either have a face shaped like 🌝 or like🌛

- speaking of Cancer risings, them dimples! They deep like the moon craters

- acne problems, it’s even worse during adolescence but it does get better as you get older but you may occasionally break out. I also notice you guys have oily skin.

- Venus Cancer loves them a home cooked meal. They’re the type to go home to their mom or grandma for dinner. They may have a family recipe that’s passed down to them or they create one and pass it down to there kids

-they have a hard time with letting material things go especially if it’s sentimental to them. To the outside world it’s junk but to them it’s treasure. I get it tall I do lol

- Moon 11h attract a lot women as friend groups. Strangers may feel too comfortable with telling their personal business unprovoked

- leader of the family, it doesn’t matter what your role is, you are the one that holds the family together, people may be heavily dependent on you especially emotionally. You may be the first person in your family to accomplish something big.

-Cancer Suns may be the firstborn or firstborn daughter or son(not always). They are born during a time when their parents were especially father was ready to settle down and start a family. They could be born during a time where the family was going through some sort of emotional event and you were the fresh start. Will either feel more emotionally connected or feel disconnected due to trying to live up to his efforts and family ideals.

-Cancer moon feel a deep connection to their mothers theses are the type of children that will live with their mom into adulthood. Even if they move out, they calling they momma lol. Maybe very dependent emotionally on mom. If they don’t have a good relationship with mom, they will get will partners who can feel that void. It’s a lot harder for men with this placement.

-Moon/Jupiter comes from families with such strong belief systems and ideals. They carry these ideals into adulthood, it may be hard to break away from them. They may have a belief that they family viewpoint is everyone’s. They have to leave there nest and see the world for themselves and realize their family viewpoint may be short sighted. This can be triggering because you wonder what else were you not accurately taught.

-if you have 28°, that’s matriarch energy

-have you noticed Cancer starts in June which is the 6th month. 6 in astrology is ruled by Virgo. Summer months are chaotic because your starting a new routine for the season lol

-it’s also interesting that Cancer is the start of Summer season. All the kids is out of school and at home. This is one of the rare times of the year where families are vacationing and spending time together. Visiting other cities and countries. Cancer literally rules home countries and cities y’all lol

I’ll stop here but happy Cancer season and birthday Cancers

[dilly-dahlia]

vi. Check

pairing: Gene x Reader

content: pdh, drill team!reader, opposites attract, sunshine/grumpy, feelings (finally), suggestive but not explicit, images used are NOT an indication of the reader's appearance

summary: Practically everyone you knew was pointing out the alleged spark you had with Gene. You denied it every time, but once you're left alone with your own thoughts, you realize that they might not be wrong.

word count: 7.4k

masterlist

The Problem With Popularity masterlist

previous part

There was nothing that could have prepared you for the debate Garroth, Laurance, Dante, and Travis had found themselves entangled in during lunch. You weren’t even sure how you got to this point, but you definitely didn’t want to be part of it.

Somehow, your curious question about whether Garroth or Laurance had a girlfriend (because they had been acting weird lately when the topic was brought up) led to the guys at your lunch table debating who had the most game. So far, it definitely seemed like Garroth and Laurance were in the lead, which was unsurprising. Dante, however, seemed to have fallen dead last among the four of them. He was not very happy about it.

“I have lots of girls that would date me!” His hands were splayed out on the table, and he stuttered as he frantically looked around the lunch room for any familiar faces. “Lori said she likes me.”

“Lori said you were cute but she’d never date you,” you cut in dryly. She’d told you one day in the locker room attempting to get Dante to quit bothering her. You hadn’t done anything about it yet, but Lori hadn’t said anything else to you and Dante had stopped rambling about her.

“What? Why?”

“Maybe because when you were dating your last girlfriend you still flirted with girls,” Laurance suggested. He shrugged, holding his hands up in surrender. “I dunno, though. That’s just a hunch I have.”

“First of all, Daisy said she didn’t want to label it and didn’t care. She turned out to be lesbian anyway, so that doesn’t count.”

“What I’m hearing is you were such a bad boyfriend that she never wanted to like a man again,” Travis said. He had come out of his shell more and often put himself into conversations with the other guys. You were glad for it, but he was more like Dante than you ever imagined. 

“Second,” Dante made his voice louder and glared at Travis to shush him, “Laurance, you fumbled Y/n, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“At least I could pull her.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Dante’s defense and Laurance’s rebuttal. At some point it had been decided that the most significant thing anyone had done in your friend group was date you. You weren’t sure when that happened, but you didn’t mind. You found it amusing that they’d made you the standard, as stupid as it was. Not to mention it boosted your confidence and had helped you during your sophomore year. 

“Dante, you need to just face the fact that you aren’t all that,” Garroth said, shrugging. “It’s okay. Not everyone can be the best.”

Dante glared at Garroth. His expression was void of any feeling and it looked like he might have been plotting a murder.

“Well, I’m sure Katelyn would-“

“Nope.” Katelyn was hardly paying attention to the conversation. Most of her attention seemed to be turned toward her phone and the chicken noodle soup that had been served for lunch.

“Aphmau, if I asked you out, you'd accept, right?”

“Wow, uhm. Look at that.” The freshman looked down at her wrist, clicking her tongue at the time displayed on her imaginary watch. “I have to go.”

Aphmau stood up, lifting her tray from the table and hurrying over to the trash. She lingered there for a moment, but she had left her backpack, so you knew she would be back.

Travis reached over to aggressively pat Dante on the back. “Sucks, man.”

“Travis, you don’t know how to talk to girls.”

“And yet girls love my awkward charm.”

Dante rolled his eyes, looking around the room before his gaze landed on you. You raised your brows at him, daring him to continue with his poorly thought out plan. Aphmau returned to her spot just as he started talking.

“I’m sure Y/n would date me.” He pointed to you, sounding slightly exasperated.

The thought made you laugh. Loudly. You and Dante? It was ridiculous to you. As you lifted your water bottle to your lips, you said, “In your dreams.”

Katelyn snickered. “Maybe if you were your brother,” Her tone was teasing. She glanced up and laughed at the sight of you coughing on water.

“Katelyn! That was one time,” you exclaimed. Your voice was slightly hoarse from coughing, and you cleared your throat to get rid of the scratchy feeling. You shook your head, reaching to lightly hit her arm. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, my god, Gene?” Dante seemed appalled. You weren’t sure why, since it had been brought up multiple times that you and Gene appeared to have a thing going on. Though Dante did tend to forget things, even if he paid attention.

Laurance leaned forward and you found yourself wanting to curl up and disappear. Just poof out of existence. “What does that mean?” He asked you instead of Katelyn, his blue gaze unwavering from yours. It felt like he was staring deep into your soul, learning every single one of your secrets without your having to say anything.

Katelyn, as oblivious to tone and atmosphere as she often was, laughed. “Me, her, and Sasha made a hear me out cake a while ago and she put Gene on it.”

You thanked God she didn’t mention the tangent you had gone on the previous Sunday. The one where you told her you didn’t know what was happening, but that every time you found yourself with Gene you were smiling more and butterflies flapped in your stomach. If she did, you knew it would have been over for you. That was something you would never live down and you’d face judgement for the rest of your life.

“It wasn’t, like, an admission to a crush or anything!” you quickly added. Your voice was shaky. It was clear you were nervous and you hoped your friends couldn’t tell that you were getting hot. “It’s a hear me out cake, so I was saying, like . . . y’know. Hear me out. Maybe if Gene wasn’t a complete jerk I’d . . .”

You trailed off, finding that your sad attempt at defending yourself was crashing and burning and Dante and Laurance and everyone else’s faces slowly twisted into varying expressions of surprise and disgust. You covered your mouth, hoping the physical barrier would be better than your self conscious filter at making you not speak. 

“She said she’d”—Katelyn imitated the hand motion you made to her weeks ago. Immediately you reached over to smack her hand down and hold it beneath the table.

“I did not do that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No. You were tired and seeing things.”

“No, you definitely did that.”

“Can we get back to how Y/n would date Gene?” Laurance cut in. His brows were pulled together, his gaze was flicking between you and Katelyn, though it always lingered longer on you.

“Yeah, I want to know why you’d rather go out with my brother than me,” Dante added. He leaned forward as well, his arms crossed in a judging manner.

“Okay, I never said I would date Gene.” You rolled your eyes. You had started using your hands to try and paint a picture, but it only ended up being a slop of random motions. “I only admitted that I think he’s attractive.”

“So you think I’m ugly?” Dante asked.

You furrowed your brows and side eyed him. You paused your train of thought to process his words and carefully consider your next words so you didn’t make an even deeper hole for yourself. “I never said that.”

“But I wasn’t on the hear me out cake.”

You grumbled something unintelligible, dropping your head and splaying your hands over your face. After a moment, you lifted your head and clapped your hands. “Just because you were not on the hear me out cake doesn’t mean anything! It’s called a hear me out, so you hear me out about different people and/or objects!”

“Objects?” Travis muttered. It was more to himself, though, as his question went unheard.

“It’s not supposed to be a universally accepted thing, and you guys weren’t supposed to know about it anyway,” you finished, letting out a huff. “But just because I put Gene on there doesn’t mean-“

“I feel like that warrants the jar,” Dante said bluntly. Your jaw dropped, and you stared at him for a moment.

“What?”

“I feel like I should be able to call the jar on you because you’re saying my brother-“

“Oh, my god Dante! It was a theoretical situation!”

“It was a hear me out cake so you deliberately chose him beforehand!” Dante crossed his arms, leaning forward on the table. His gaze was unwavering. So much so that it almost scared you. “Jar.”

You scoffed in defiance, but once Garroth and Travis chimed in that Dante was right, you reluctantly dug the bedazzled jar from your bag.

“You guys are terrible,” you mumbled to yourself, counting out seven ones and shoving them in the glass.

“More.”

“What?”

“This is Gene we’re talking about, Y/n,” Laurance added. Since when did he have Dante’s side? Well, obviously he was but why was he only just now voicing it? “He’s a terrible person and has bothered almost every single person at this table.”

“Yeah, and he’s my brother.”

“Oh, my goodness. I know he’s your brother, Dante,” you groaned, fishing a crumpled ten out of your wallet and dropping it in as well. “That’s all I have,” you said, capping the jar and shoving it back in your backpack. “There. Happy?”

You looked to Dante for approval. You scoffed at the sight of the grimace on his face. “I guess if that’s all you have,” he sighed.

You rolled your eyes, standing to take your tray to the wash station just as the bell rang. “You are so dramatic.”

Once you had walked over and set your dirty bowl and tray into their designated spots, you waited by the hallway entrance for Garroth, Laurance, and Aphmau to catch up. You debated just leaving them behind and continuing to sixth period on your own, though, since they (mainly Laurance) would be questioning you relentlessly.

You spent too long thinking about it and found yourself stepping in time with the three of them. Just as you predicted, the entire walk and majority of the class was spent grilling you about your feelings.

You claimed they were nonexistent.

They didn’t believe you.

—

“You know,” Lucinda began. She took a long pause in her sentence, using a drawn out sip of her sweet tea to bridge the gap between her words. “Studies show the more time you spend with someone the more you like them.”

Both you and Katelyn slowly blinked at her from across the booth. The two of you sat in silence, your food momentarily forgotten as you tried to figure out why that was relevant to the conversation.

“What does that even mean?” Katelyn finally asked, her brows furrowed. “Obviously the more time you spend with someone the more you like them.”

“What were we even talking about to prompt that?” you cut in, scraping the sides of the pink ice cream cup in your hand with a spoon.

Lucinda shrugged, setting her foam cup down on the table again. She spent a second swirling it around, distracted by the sounds of ice clinking together. It was clear there were multiple things on her mind, though from the way she let out a dejected sigh made you think she had settled for talking about something heavier.

“I don’t know,” she mused, propping her head against her hand. She stared at the expanse of wall behind yours and Katelyn’s heads, her gaze seeming far off. “Just thinking that the opposite might be true, too.”

You raised a brow, sharing a glance with Katelyn. Neither of you were sure how to respond to her revelation, so you just kept quiet until Lucinda continued.

“Is there something wrong with me?” she suddenly asked. Your eyes widened and you instinctively reached across the restaurant table to take Lucinda’s hand.

“What? Of course not. Why would there be something wrong with you?” Beside you, Katelyn straightened in her seat and pursed her lips. She was being uncharacteristically quiet, and if Lucinda weren’t about to experience a crisis you might have commented on it.

“Just . . . Ivan-”

Katelyn groaned, tilting her head back. “Luz, I’ve told you a million times-”

“I know! I know.” Lucinda sighed again, fully leaning against the table now. “But he didn’t exactly . . . do anything this time. I just- I don’t know if I like him. Anymore, at least. I think I did, but now it’s . . .”

She made a vague spinning motion with her hand. Clearly her brain was too scrambled to actually form a fully coherent thought, but now that she had partially laid her woes before you, it was understandable.

And it made sense—Lucinda had been acting weird lately. You noticed it was a gradual thing, but over the past couple weeks her usual bubbly and playful personality had been slowly diminishing. You had never commented on it, assuming it was just a natural shift in her mood, but now knowing that Ivan had something to do with it made sense.

Which you should’ve known, really. She hadn’t talked about him without being prompted by someone else for weeks. Normally she would’ve let at least something about her relationship with him slip, whether accidentally or not.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Lucinda continued. “We decided to go on a break a while ago. The break was supposed to end earlier this week, but being on it made me feel . . .”

“Relieved?” Katelyn offered when Lucinda trailed off.

“Like you could do whatever you want?” you added.

Lucinda was silent for a moment, taking in your words before slowly nodding. “Yeah. Which is weird to me because people also say that the more time you spend away from a person, the more you miss them. Like the getting to know and liking someone thing I said earlier. But when Ivan and I went on this break, I realized that I don’t really want him.”

“Maybe you’ve been forcing yourself to like him,” you suggested. It wouldn’t have been surprising, to you or Katelyn or anyone else for that matter. Looking from the outside in, it didn’t seem like Ivan and Lucinda even liked each other. “I mean, I can’t even remember the last time you said something positive about him.”

“He asked me to homecoming. Made me a cute sign,” Lucinda reminded, though the attempt to paint Ivan in a positive light seemed less than half-hearted.

“Yeah, after you begged him to,” Katelyn pointed out. “And that sign was the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It was so low effort, Lucinda. I’m surprised you even accepted.”

Lucinda let out a heavy sigh, though she didn’t seem too disappointed. And knowing her, it was entirely possible that she had already drawn a conclusion herself—she just wanted the affirmation from her closest friends.

She laid against her crossed arms on the table. For a few minutes, the three of you stayed completely silent as she ran through a million thoughts on her own. You continued to scrape the sides of your ice cream cup and Katelyn savored each fry she dipped into her strawberry milkshake. The two of you let your friend stew in her own emotions before she finally sat back up. Neither you or Katelyn drew attention to her reddened eyes, and you pretended that the brief wipe she gave them was just to fix her lashes.

“Enough about me,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she wanted. She cleared her throat before leaning forward again, propping her head against her fist once more. “What’s going on with you two?”

Katelyn shrugged, taking Lucinda’s question and previous grievance as an invitation to talk about her own. “Jeffory and I are arguing.”

Lucinda furrowed her brows, leaning forward. “Oh, my god. What about?”

Katelyn rolled her eyes, waving her hand as if she wanted to dismiss the topic (like she wasn’t the one that brought it up). “How nice he is. What else?”

“What happened?” you asked, turning your head toward her.

“He just is so . . . good.” Katelyn blinked, trying to find another way to describe it but ultimately failing. “I mean, you know how he is. Nice to everyone, even if they’re bothering him or being rude. There’s this girl.”

Lucinda scrunched her nose. “Oh. Talya?”

Katelyn nodded, an exaggerated motion to portray her annoyance at the situation. “Yes. She so obviously likes him, but he doesn’t see it even though I’ve told him.” Katelyn groaned, leaning back and tilting her head against the wall behind her. “And I keep telling him I don’t like that he keeps talking to her, but he just- He can’t be mean to her, is what he says.”

You and Lucinda both hum in consideration, taking in Katelyn’s words and choosing your own carefully. It could be hard when she vented to you—she would get herself so worked up and then the smallest things would make her tick like a bomb and explode. It was something she was working on, as well as her patience. But, well, she was getting impatient with it.

“Well, that is the kind of person Jeffory is,” you carefully started, your words coming out slowly as if it would lessen the blow. “You knew that before you started dating. You also told me that was part of the reason you liked him.”

Katelyn let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “I mean, yeah, I did. But now it’s getting on my nerves. And . . . God, he’s so patient. He’s never gotten mad at me.”

You furrowed your brows and exchanged a glance with Lucinda. “Isn’t that good?”

“Yeah, that sounds perfect. Imagine having a boyfriend that doesn’t get mad at you.”

Katelyn deadpanned, glaring at you both. She rolled her eyes again as she dipped a fry into her milkshake. “You guys know what I mean. I obviously don’t need someone that gets upset as easily as I do, but it’d also be nice to have someone challenge me every now and then.”

“So you’re less upset that he won’t tell Talya to leave him alone and more mad that he’s just . . . passive?” you said, leaning against the table. You had scraped the edges of your cup completely clean, so you put the empty paper cup on the tray with the rest of the food that had been finished.

“No. I’m still upset that he won’t tell Talya to buzz off.”

“I think him being passive is a big part of that,” Lucinda commented. Katelyn rolled her eyes in response and waved her off.

“Okay, Lucinda. Every time you’ve told me about when Ivan talks to other girls, he at least tries to defend himself. Jeffory just doesn’t. He just apologizes for making me feel that way and then moves on.”

Lucinda softly hummed and shut her mouth. She wouldn’t be saying anything anymore—at least not about Katelyn.

“So that might just be a different conversation you need to have with him,” you suggested, breaking the tense silence that had entered the air. “Because it sounds more like you just want him to argue with you instead of just brushing off your feelings.”

Katelyn sighed. The tips of her ears reddened and she was starting to talk with her hands more. “I don’t want him to argue with me I just want him to respond! He never- He always gives me space to process what I’m thinking and I don’t always want that, I want him to engage.” She huffed, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t even want to completely argue, I want to banter with him. Like you and Gene, Y/n.”

Lucinda perked up at the slight shift in topic. You, on the other hand, scoffed.

“Gene and I don’t banter,” you said. “We just have normal conversations. As friends.”

“Well whatever you and Gene have, I want it,” Katelyn said. “There’s chemistry there, there’s interaction. I want a response from Jeffory. Not just a . . . Let’s come back to this.” She sighed again, slumping in her seat and fully leaning against the wall. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled, trying to calm herself down.

You reached over to grab her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. When Katelyn started to get like this, you found that the best way to ground her was through physical touch. It didn’t have to be anything big—just holding onto her in some way. She returned the squeeze you gave, letting out another heavy breath.

“Call what you have with Gene whatever you want,” she started after a moment, meeting your gaze, “but there’s something there. The two of you have this . . . weird spark. I might not like him but I’m not blind like Laurance or some of our other friends.”

Your brows raised and your eyes widened. You hadn’t expected this to turn on you, and you definitely hadn’t expected that to be the thing Katelyn seemed the most level-headed about. Though, you supposed that was a good thing since Lucinda took Katelyn’s comment as an invitation to direct the conversation in a different direction to try and take Katelyn’s mind off her own problems.

“Gene and I aren’t . . .” You paused. Weren’t what? It didn’t matter because Lucinda’s smooth voice slipped into the empty gap.

“You and him have been spending a lot of time together,” she said, wiggling her brows at you.

Your expression straightened. You’d had this conversation before, right? “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure it does.” Lucinda waved your weak defense off, taking a slow sip of her sweet tea. “People don’t typically spend time with people they don’t like.”

“Okay, then I like him, just not like that,” you replied, lifting your hands in a so what? motion. Lucinda rolled her eyes in response.

“Please, Y/n. I could feel the tension between you two from Dante’s couch on Sunday. The two of you were practically soaked in desire.” Both yours and Katelyn’s faces scrunched in disgust. “Okay, maybe that was a bad description. But I’m serious! You and Gene have something going on when no one else is looking, I can feel it.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Katelyn managed to laugh. She rolled her eyes as she drank the last of her milkshake before setting the tall glass to the side. “As unnecessarily explicit as Lucinda’s description was”—she turned her head to face you, her expression not doing anything to hide the reluctance she held in agreeing—“there is definitely something.”

You scoffed, looking at both your friends in disbelief. How else were you supposed to look at them when they suggested something as ridiculous as that? You certainly weren’t going to be bowing at their feet, praising them for their insight. Especially not when their insight was so poor and practically non existent.

When neither of their expressions wavered—when they kept that same unyielding look of certainty—you couldn’t help but scoff again. You truly couldn’t think of another way to react.

“There is nothing!” you eventually decided to say, throwing your hands up. “Gene and I are just friends. I’m not interested in him romantically, and he doesn’t even–”

“Yeah, that’s why you nearly broke down on the ride home Sunday,” Katelyn mumbled. After the words left her mouth, her gaze wandered. It was almost like she was looking for whoever had said that.

“Katelyn!” Lucinda laughed as you hit Katelyn’s shoulder, and you practically watched the lightbulb go off over Lucinda’s head.

She gasped dramatically and spread her arms across the dining table, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, my goodness. You do!”

“Do what?” You really didn’t need to ask. You knew.

“The first stage is denial, Y/n. And you are deep in that stage right now.”

You sputtered. Apparently, choosing to hang out with your friends would leave you so appalled that you forgot how to speak. “Am not!”

“Yuh-huh.” Lucinda nodded in a very exaggerated fashion. “And I have more evidence. Not only were the two of you being weird on Sunday, but I totally saw your face when he was talking to Lacy.”

Your cheeks heated and your eyes widened. Somehow you managed to cough up an argument. “Who even is Lacy?”

You were possibly the worst actress to exist on the planet. There was no way Lucinda or Katelyn would hear your shaky voice and actually believe you had no clue what they were talking about. Lucinda’s expression said as much, but before she could get the rest of her words out, you jumped in.

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at him, I was . . . Just wondering what they were talking about. Totally normal”

Lucinda hummed, though the pitch of it made you uncomfortable. “Say what you want, but I saw you. I saw your eyes and the way you stared Lacy down.”

“I love Lacy!” you suddenly exclaimed, not wanting to seem like you just disliked the girl. “She’s just a sweet freshman. If anything, I was making sure Gene wasn’t trying to blackmail her or date her or something . . .”

“Why would he want to date Lacy?” Katelyn asked, pushing her empty glass down the table and toward the growing pile of trash.

“I don’t think Gene’s interested in a freshman so much as he’s interested in a certain junior,” Lucinda softly sang, completely ignoring Katelyn’s question. You rolled your eyes, and instead of responding you gathered all the trash on the table and piled it on top of your food tray.

“You are both ridiculous,” you said, standing up. You carefully lifted the restaurant tray in your hands, making sure nothing would fall off before taking it to the trash. You put everything in its designated area—trash in the chute, Katelyn’s milkshake glass upside down on the counter, and finally the tray atop the can. When you returned to the table, you didn’t sit back down.

“I have to get going,” you said, grabbing your purse from where you had sat and wrapping it around yourself. You searched through it for everything you needed as you spoke. “Gene told me about sixish for meeting at Sasha’s and she lives kind of far.”

“Aw, she’s spending the night with Gene,” Lucinda mused. Katelyn did not seem impressed. She gave a mirthless hum and pulled out her phone instead. Taking note of Katelyn’s disinterest, Lucinda playfully swatted at her. “Katelyn, be excited. This is the first guy Y/n’s been interested in since Laurance.”

“Yeah, and she chose probably the worst choice she could have,” Katelyn reasoned, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me if I’m not excited.”

“Oh, my god.” You zipped up your purse, probably more aggressively than you realized. “Guys, for the last time, nothing is going on. Gene and I are just friends.”

Both girls hummed in disbelief, a perfectly synchronised reaction that made them both chuckle. You rolled your eyes (really, how had they not fallen out of your head?) before giving them a brief goodbye and leaving.

You didn’t start driving once you got in your car. You spent a moment just sitting there, taking in a moment—feeling the fresh air from the vents against your skin, watching a couple people walk to their cars, admiring the last of the sun’s golden rays, Laufey’s “Promise” playing from your car speakers. It was a slow moment. Nothing was happening. Nothing needed your immediate attention. You just breathed.

Which you felt like you needed. Non stop for the past week you had been fighting arguments about your alleged relationship with Gene. Constantly telling Laurance and Garroth and whoever else asked that no, you weren’t in love with (or even romantically interested in) Gene. You shut down Travis’s entirely inappropriate remark about you and Gene fucking, which you had promptly smacked him across the face and yelled at him for. After that, you refused to talk or acknowledge him for two and a half days before he presented a box of chocolates to you and begged for an apology during your second period. He ended up putting a hundred dollars in the jar as retribution. All week you had been ignoring the passing comments you heard in the halls, which proved to be incredibly difficult. People were bad at minding their business and keeping their opinions to themselves. Any time someone brought it up, you would vehemently deny anything they said. Total strangers had started approaching you, asking if Gene was really as bad as his reputation said.

It was getting overwhelming. No part of you liked it. You had considered cutting everything off with Gene entirely, but that would also affect your relationship with Sasha. You didn’t want that.

Not to mention that, as much as you denied it to anyone that said anything, you had grown to enjoy Gene’s company. The more time you spent with him the more he showed you small parts of himself that you doubted he let anyone else see. His downturned smile, for example. You hadn’t seen him give that genuine smile to anyone except you, and even then he kept it confined to when the two of you were alone or only around Sasha and Zenix. No one else.

During the conversations you had under the moon—when it was late and neither of you could sleep and you found yourselves texting each other because you knew the other would respond—both of you let yourselves go, just a little. Gene had confided in you that he hated his dad, who always found a reason to be out of the house. That he felt bad for hating his dad because his mom still loved him more than anything. You had admitted that you felt Phoenix Drop wasn’t the place for you. That, despite your popularity and how many people were kind to you, you found your high school and the entire city to be shallow and unwelcoming.

“That’s just Phoenix Drop High. A bunch of stuck up rich kids that think they’re better than everyone else. Don’t worry about that,” he told you, his voice low so he didn’t wake his sleeping family. “You’re a magnet. There might be really shitty people, but you also attract the good ones. Like Sasha.”

And you had gone silent for a moment. Of course there were a couple good people. Like Sasha, but also like Katelyn and Lucinda and Aphmau and your entire friend group, really. Even if they were stuck up rich kids, they were good at their cores.

In that silence between the two of you, the only noise passing through being the soft buzz of the phone line, you took in Gene’s words. There were good people—even ones that seemed unlikely.

“Like you,” you had replied. Your voice was soft, and if Gene didn’t know you he might’ve thought you were hesitant to say it. Or that you didn’t mean it.

But you did. He knew you did. His breath had hitched—so quietly that it was entirely possible to think you had imagined it. Another moment of silence enveloped the two of you as he took in your words. In the quiet, you had started to run your finger against the seam of your stuffed chicken. Had you said the wrong thing?

“Yeah.” His voice finally broke the silence, quiet and low in a way that was different than it had been. It was almost disbelieving. “If that’s what you wanna believe, bunny.”

So yes, you had grown to enjoy his company. Weirdly, Gene had become some sort of rock for you—someone you could confide in and tell things that you were hesitant to admit even to Katelyn.

But you didn’t like him. No, you really didn’t. You had just become fond of him. You weren’t going to let what anyone said gaslight you into liking him (or admitting that you did like him). A similar thing had happened with Laurance, and look how that turned out. You’d cried in your room for weeks and dug yourself into a hole that had been nearly impossible to climb out of.

So no. You wouldn’t let yourself like Gene. You were declaring Gene Accardi off limits for a million reasons. He had a horrendous reputation, none of your friends liked him, he was Dante’s brother.

Falling for Gene was a terrible move. If life were a game of chess, then making that move would get yourself checkmated before you could even do anything about it. With everyone’s assumptions and words, you were in check. You needed to move and keep your king safe.

Unfortunately, you never could grasp the concept of chess.

—

Sasha’s house was just as homey on the inside as it was outside. There was a number of plants everywhere, climbing up the walls outside and flowering into pretty blooms inside. It would have felt cluttered if the house weren’t so big.

It was Sasha’s mom that had met you at the door. She’d told you to call her Zizi and to remove your shoes in the foyer before she led you to a windowless room. It was mostly empty, but in the middle there was an array of blankets and pillows arranged in what you could only describe as a nest of some sort. Zenix, Gene, and Sasha were either sitting or lying on the blankets, and the three of them were scrolling through a long list of movies.

Zenix was the only one that initially turned at the sound of the door opening. He offered you an awkward smile and wave, greeting you to bring attention to the fact that you were even there.

Gene turned next. You might have imagined it, but at the sight of you his eyes lit up. You gave them a soft smile before fully entering the room, closing the door behind you and setting your old backpack down on the mass of pillows.

“What is that?” Gene asked as you tossed your stuffed Stardew Valley chicken to Sasha. Her entire expression lit up once she was hit with it, and immediately she held it in her arms tight.

“It’s a stuffed chicken, Gene,” you replied. You kept your tone straight to emphasize that it was an obvious fact. Zenix snickered, which you considered a win since you figured he was pretty stone faced and quiet about most things. He was probably why Gene knew so much about everyone.

“Obviously it’s a chicken, Y/n.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Because who has a giant chicken?”

“Uhm. Me, obviously.” You rolled your eyes, settling yourself on the blankets next to Gene.

“Are you disrespecting Benedict?” Sasha asked. When you looked over she was looking at Gene with a raised brow and a nasty side eye, covering the chicken’s eyes like she was protecting it from an unseemly sight.

“Who the hell is Benedict?”

“The chicken!” you and Sasha exclaimed at the same time.

“What kind of name is Benedict?”

“Like eggs benedict, Gene. You idiot,” Zenix cut in. You were grateful for it because finally, someone who understood the joke in the name without you needing to explain it.

“Because chickens lay eggs,” Sasha added.

Gene blinked at the three of you before softly shaking his head and laying back on the blankets. “I think you three are a little”—he whistled, lifting his hand to tap his temple—“up here.”

You smacked Gene with a nearby pillow, making Sasha and Zenix burst out laughing. In response, Gene got a firm grip on the pillow—his hands above yours, his callouses rubbing against your skin—and pulled you forward. You slid over him without much fight, yelping when he pulled the pillow out of your hands and laid an arm across your waist to keep you down as he tossed it out of your reach.

“You’re a brat,” he said, though it was through a laugh and his tone was lighthearted. You tried wiggling out of his grasp, but Gene kept a stubborn arm around you.

“And you’re mean,” you laughed. You kicked until you could finally shift away. You rolled over, out of Gene’s reach and sat back up. You were still laughing, so you missed the conspiratorial glance Sasha and Zenix shared.

On the TV—a big one, and you only realized then that Sasha had a proper movie room with a surround sound system—your other two friends had pulled up Sasha’s personal collection of movies. Ones she owned based on the word OWNED in the upper left corner.

“Okay, guys. What are we watching?” Sasha asked.

“The Shining.”

“Terrifier.”

It went silent for a moment, the trio of troublemakers looking over at you expectantly. Your eyes widened upon the realization that they were waiting for your answer. You blinked at them, thinking. They probably wanted you to say some sort of horror movie.

“I’m gonna be honest,” you started, holding your hands up in surrender, “the only scary movies I’ve ever seen is Scream and a 1920 silent film version of Phantom of the Opera.”

Sasha snickered. “Of course you’ve only seen Scream.”

You glared at her. You considered saying something, but Zenix unknowingly saved Sasha from whatever retort you had.

“Isn’t Phantom of the Opera a romance?” he asked, brows furrowed in skepticism.

“Actually”—you saw Gene roll his eyes in your peripheral, and you playfully swatted his shoulder—”it wasn’t really considered a romance until Andrew Lloyd Webber turned it into a musical. Before that the takes on it were mostly horror.”

Zenix hummed. He seemed indifferent to the information. Then again, he always seemed that way. He wasn’t very inclined to make many expressions or talk, at least not when you were around.

Who knew. Maybe he was different when it was just Gene and Sasha.

“So have you never seen any Tim Burton movies?” Gene asked, tilting his head back to look at you. He still laid on the floor next to you.

“Well, yeah. But I wouldn’t say Tim Burton is scary. It’s more creepy, you know,” you reasoned, shrugging. Gene nodded thoughtfully, probably going through an internal list of other movies

“Okay. Since our precious Y/n is new to horror”—Sasha reached over and gave you an affectionate pat on the head—“our options are now Christine and The Sixth Sense. Any preference?”

“Christine’s good.”

“Yeah. Nice and unsettling.”

“Christine it is.”

You raised a brow, looking between the three of them. Just like three peas in a pod, they were. “Christine?”

“Yup. It’s about a car that kills people because it’s jealous,” Gene mused. You knew he was watching for your reaction to the information because he laughed at your furrowed brows and slightly agape lips.

“What?” That was really the only thing that could express how you felt. It encapsulated it perfectly, actually. “What do you mean a car gets jealous?”

Sasha shushed you. “Watch the movie.”

She turned your head to the TV, where the movie had already started and the camera followed a factory line of old fashioned cars, before standing up to turn off the overhead light. You paid attention, watching with intrigue as the cherry red car cruised along the screen. You gasped when the car’s hood slammed down on a worker’s hand. Your jaw dropped when a different employee stepped inside it and was shown dead because of it just a few clips later.

Okay, an angry car was understandable now. But how was it jealous?

You got your answer a couple minutes later.

At some point, Sasha’s mom came into the room with a tray of arranged snacks and drinks. She set it down on the edge of the pile of blankets before leaving after all four of you had thanked her. By the time the movie ended, your eyebrows had furrowed in disbelief so much you were starting to get a headache.

“Never in my life did I think I would witness a car experiencing jealousy,” you said as the credits rolled. You softly shook your head. “If you told me this morning I would be watching a movie about a killer car I would’ve called you crazy and whacked you over the head.”

“Did you like it at least?” Zenix asked. You didn’t know how to answer his question because yes, you did enjoy it. More than you had anticipated. You did not like how there was no explanation for why the car was evil. Were you just supposed to believe it was made bad and not possessed? Surely there was something else.

You ended up nodding because your enjoyment from it outweighed your questions. Truth be told, you’d probably never think about it again.

The four of you continued watching movies until early morning Saturday. It was nearly three in the morning by the time you decided it was time to leave. As you gathered your things and your trash to throw away on the way out, Gene offered to drive you home. You politely refused, and instead he insisted on at least walking to your car.

The very short walk from Sasha’s TV room to your used car was more awkward than you wanted it to be and seemed to take centuries. Never in your life had you felt more tense, and it was all because this silent moment with Gene reminded you of all the shit you had been asked throughout the week. All the people commenting on the alleged spark you and him had.

You told yourself it didn’t exist until Gene held open the driver side door for you. Then you told yourself he was just being a gentleman because he was rich and was probably raised that way.

He tapped on the glass when you turned the car on. You rolled the window down and he leaned forward, crossing his arms against the frame of the car.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my car, Gene,” you said, leaning back in your seat. Your hands were settled in your lap, and to avoid fidgeting with anything you quietly tapped your hands against your thighs.

Gene shrugged. “I wanted to. You never know what kind of big bad wolves are out here.” You rolled your eyes at his jest, moving to jokingly roll the window back up before his hand intercepted yours. It was warm, just like your face was slowly becoming. “Fair tomorrow?”

You nodded, hoping it shook you out of whatever stupor holding his hand had put you in. “Obviously. I love the Fall Festival.”

Gene smiled. “Alright. I’ll come pick you up at ten?”

“Oh, you don’t have to-” You really didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with Gene. Not when so many detrimental things were making themselves apparent to you.

“I’m driving Sasha and Zenix anyway.” He let go of your hand, straightening up to his usual height. “I don’t mind. I’ll come pick you up at ten.”

You weren’t really given much of a choice to respond because after saying that, Gene turned and stared back to Sasha’s house. You watched in slight disbelief, appalled that he would just leave you like that, as he stepped up onto her porch.

“Okay!” you shouted after him. You waved your arm out the window in a what the hell? motion. Your expression would have added to the display, but unfortunately it was dark and Gene couldn’t see you clearly through the window tint.

At least he waited until you were out of the driveway to walk back into the yellow house. The jerk.

A jerk you wouldn’t mind spending even more time with. Alone.

The thought crossed your mind without realization, and you were left driving down the road in a trancelike state. What was that supposed to mean? Obviously you didn’t mind spending more time with him. Gene was your friend. You liked your friends and often wanted to spend time with them.

You pulled up to a red light and pulled to a stop, debating whether or not you wanted to call him upon your arrival home. As you considered it, your thoughts crashed into each other like two freight trains as the most obvious revelation seemed to finally dawn on you.

You liked Gene. Fuck.

You resisted the urge to honk your horn in frustration.

double update what??? who am I???

y'all gonna like the next chapter trust. I have big plans

TAGGING: @garrothswiferealnotfake @wasting-away-on-the-internet @mellozhi @pushingdaisies1 @orinlin @luckygirldotgov @snowblossomsx @lucciluvr @oliemolliever @endo-bunny @purpledsun @angelhyperfixates @angelarabella @dontcrackyourpinkytoes @siochandess @flynnbee @neptunesfantasies @natpakk @thehumanartist @khoizen @baguettetaylorsversion @tomzgutz @revxwrites @fartmonster98 @1-800-avs @afellow-simp if you’d like to be part of the taglist let me know!

next part >>

[bitterbutblue]

i'm right where you left me - castorice x reader

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

and if i could take it all back i swear that i would pull you from the tide

~ one of my all time favourite songs fr, im ngl imjust going through another episode but instead of processing it like a normal person i just write fanfiction instead ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Who you first truly fall in love with will shape the way you show love to others. They shape the way you view love, especially after you lose it. There are those lucky enough to stay with their first true loves, and there are those who experience watching someone who knew how many freckles were on your face become a stranger you pass by on the streets without as much of a second glance. But you both still feel your heart stutter slightly, a small flutter that can be accompanied with a bittersweet twist, maybe one fuelled with anger, or maybe one of longing- even after all this time. You wonder what happened, why she went from your home to nothing but a shell of someone you once knew. She is still her, she is a new version of her. One you can't read like you used to. A book that you know the story of inside and out, but written in a language you can't understand. The day you lost the love of your life to fate dividing the path you've been walking on together was the day you learned what heartbreak really meant. It's not screaming and sobbing and crying- that is simply an accompaniment to heartbreak. The real heartbreak was standing alone on the streets when you see a blooming flower and you think to yourself that she would have loved this. You think to yourself you want to show her this. You realise to yourself she is not here anymore.

Heartbreak is that sense of emptiness that follows that realisation, where you are a void waiting to be filled. Hollowness rumbling through your chest, leaving you with only a desire to crumble to your knees, curling up into a ball and just staying there with the pieces of your heart left up for grabs.

"Hey, come on, let's go."

You had forgotten what you were staring at, only knowing that some part of you had been drawn to this item on display at a bookstore and it reminded you of her. Himeko's voice snapped you out of it, and you force yourself to look away.

"Okay."

It doesn't fade, even though it has been over a year since she ended things with you. You still hold onto what had happened, how things unfurled. You wished more than anything that there was some way for you to turn back time, for you to have maybe loved her a bit harder so that she could still be in your life. You want to not believe in fate in that moment, because it would mean that you were predestined to be driven apart and nothing you can do would've kept her in your life.

"Are you okay?" Himeko asks you softly, her eyes darting across your face anxiously. Your eyes have that same glazed over look that you've carried ever since that day, it shows when you see something that's the same colour as her lilac eyes or maybe a blooming clematis. You clench your fist, letting out a short sigh as you nod.

"Yeah."

You have your ups and downs, some days Himeko will find you flirting with a woman at a bar, the next she will find you moping in in the parlor car when you think everyone else is asleep. You stare off into space often during moping sessions, your brain going through a flurry of thoughts and regrets and 'what if's even if you face is completely stoic. She knows, because whenever you get into these types of states your eyes are completely hollow. The usual spark when you are out with March and Dan Heng is gone, the usual light that shows around Stelle is gone. When you're alone, your eyes lose the light it once had and you become a shell. It hurts to watch from afar, knowing there was nothing she could do except simply watch you hurt. She's offered out a hand multiple times, but every time you turned her down. You say you'll get through it, and maybe the next day you do a bit better, but you're always hurting.

"It does get better, you know?"

She remembers the day Castorice broke up with you, how you had turned up to her doorstep with tears in your eyes but you never cried. You sat on her floor, staring at a spot on the ground and she sits next to you. You say nothing, only letting out shaky sighs once in a while as you look down to wipe at a tear that threatens to fall. She's afraid to reach out to touch you, worried that you will crumble and break completely. So she sits with you. Through all of it.

"I know."

Now you two are sat on the floor again, except this time it's been over a year and a half.

"I feel stupid for still caring." You whisper out "I fucked it up, so why am I still..."

"You loved her." Himeko frowns "It's understandable. You don't ever move on from your first love that fast."

You swallow painfully, trying to force down the lump in your throat.

"You don't let yourself grieve because you think you don't deserve it." Himeko says softly, and you tense up but she keeps going "But you have to. You made a mistake, you hurt her. You think you don't deserve to grieve but-"

"No." Your voice is strained, you feel the same burn in the back of your throat, the same feeling right before you break into tears and you just need that feeling to go away because you cant't cry "I don't deserve to."

You look down, wiping away at a tear.

"I just hope she knows I'm really sorry."

Himeko knows that whatever she says next will have no effect on what you think or say. She can give you all the advice there is on this earth, but you still refuse to do anything to make a change. So you're stuck there, even after all this time. Stuck in the same place she left you, rusting, cobwebs growing. A statue frozen in time, a permanent reminder of heartbreak.

Another year will pass, and you find that the pain will begin to dull down from a sharp sear into more of a dull ache that beats with your heart. It becomes a part of you. You don't find yourself drawn to anyone like you were drawn to her, you find yourself unable to love anyone because you compare everybody to her.

"Will I ever love again?" You mumble, pushing the now-empty glass away from you as you lean against the bar table. Himeko sighs, taking a sip from her espresso martini that you had so kindly bought for her.

"Yes."

"But it's been over two years-"

"Y/n." She looks at you with a more firm expression, reaching out to put a hand on yours "There is no timeline for healing, you don't need to rush anything. Take it at your own pace, but just know there is more to life than a heartbreak and there is more to love than romance."

You drop your head on the table, letting out a quiet groan.

"I don't wanna date ever again."

She laughs.

"For now, maybe you shouldn't."

A few months later, you find yourself walking through the streets of Amphoreous with Stelle. You don't like being back, with every corner of every street reminding you of her. How a place can scream her name, you will never understand. How she has left her mark on every cornerstone and every brick in every wall, you will never understand. But you are going to move on, you tell yourself. It is all in the past, it-

The sight of lilac hair has your heart stopping in your chest, an iciness rushing through you that you haven't felt since the last time you ran into her on the streets two weeks after she broke up with you. Her eyes meet yours, and you notice the way her small smile drops and that breaks you in ways you didn't even realise could be broken. Already shattered pieces now disintegrating into dust, fading into the memories you had with her.

You want her to walk towards you, maybe hold eye contact for a bit longer, shoot you a look or a smile or a frown or anything. Initiate something. Instead, she looks away first, and you turn around because you don't want Stelle to see the tears that are falling. You put a hand up to your face, trying to stop yourself, trying to stop the waterfall but it doesn't happen. Broken sobs fall from your lips as you push past the crowd, Stelle hot on your tail and calling your name but you don't hear her. You just run, you run wherever your legs can take you. Maybe it's the edge of the earth, maybe you can finally fall off and disappear into the depths of nothing. Instead you find yourself instinctively running back to the express. You find yourself collapsing onto the floor of your room, and for the first time since it all ended, you scream with no voice.

[nyxthedeity]

𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓘 𝓶𝓮𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾

Synopsis: Draco has never experienced aftection. He is a literal void where if you put some love, you don't know where it goes. Until he met a specific someone that managed to fill that void.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!femreader

Draco has always felt like an empty shell. He's convinced there is nothing inside of him anymore as his family did a good job carving it all out.

He wasn't looking for anything anymore and the only ambition he had was no longer to be the best of best but to just get out of the deadly grasp his family has on him. Everything was not how he imagined it would be.

Everyday was like a blur to him, just passing by and time was almost nothing to him. Life was no longer an adventure waiting to be taken, life is no longer a path for him to take.

So goes for love.

Every turn of his head he sees people falling in love. Crabbe even got himself a crush and he could only blankly stare at something as Crabbe babbles on.

But that was when before he saw her.

A random day in the hall of Hogwarts, he was walking alone. And he heard something normal, yet his head seemed to just snap it's way.

And there, the famous sunshine girl everyone adores, giggling over something that her bestfriend said.

Why is he attracted to that sound? He hears giggles and laughs all his year, why is hers so different? Why did he like that smile so much?

But he couldn't let himself stay any longer, he'll look weird. So he forced his feet to keept moving forward, though his mind stayed on her.

Then suddenly, his eyes seemed to always roam around. His eyes that used to look so tired suddenly wanted to find someone.

He was in courtyard one free period, and he felt something when he saw you enter with your friends and sat on the grass. She looked so kind... Like she would never look at him with pity or disgust once she knew what he has on his arm. But he knew that's impossible. Who wouldn't be disgusted? Who wouldn't want to get away from him?

"Hey, Y/n, Malfoy seem to be looking at you." Said her friend as they talk a few distance away from him. When Y/n looked over her shoulder, Malfoy casually torn his eyes away.

"Was he?" Y/n asked with her head tilt and looked back at her friends. "Why do you think so?" She asks.

"Maybe he wants to be friends?" One friend answered, "Oh! Maybe he noticed you!" Said another.

"But, don't you guys notice that he's looking so gloomy? I wonder what's up." One brought up. It is true, everyone noticed how Draco's been quiet. Always observing... Always staring, not the loud and arrogant one from before.

"I've been wanting to get close to him. Though he's kind of hard to approach." Y/n said after a pause. He just became a closed book so fast that Y/n couldn't help but wonder what is exactly going on?

"I'm sure he'll appreciate you as his friend. Pansy is not really improving and Crabbe and Goyle are still dumb idiots." Said a friend that received nods in agreements.

Y/n took that in mind, making a mental note to always peel her eyes for opportunities.

And opportunity it is.

Draco had an Astronomy class, different from his minions. Y/n was in the same class so when it was over, she quickly packed up her bag and approached the Slytherin boy.

"Malfoy." She greets with a charming smile. "I didn't saw you partner up with someone in the project, you don't mind being mine, right?"

Well he just stopped working.

Why is this Hufflepuff talking to him and even inviting him to be his partner? Him? Why?

"Earth to Malfoy?" Y/n waved a hand in his face. "You good?" She flashed a smile.

Draco swears he need sunglasses for how bright that smile was.

"I'm fine with myself..." Draco mumbled in which she confusely frowned to. "But it's pairwork." She says.

So what? It's not like anyone want to work with him.

"C'mon, let's partner up!" She invited cheerfully again.

Draco just nodded his head slightly and it already brought a smile on her big round face. Was Hufflepuffs always been this kind? He feels like he's missing out.

Y/n hopped her way happily out of the classroom after securing her partner. But she doesn't want the project to be their only result. She wanted to crack that cold shell around him and spread that Malfoy was not a heartless jerk. She has always believed that no one is born like that, so she wanted to find out everything and make people understand.

The chance to do that came naturally as they meet up in the library to start their project.

She arrived a bit late with a bunch of books (some unrelated) in her arms and dropped down to the table with a proud smile.

Draco couldn't say anything and simply continued writing. A pout planted itself at Y/n's face as she got ignored. Her wish is for sure hard to get.

She opened one book, not related, but definitely interesting. She held up a page in his face, "Did you know that Hippogriffs can only lay one egg and it only takes a day to hatch and a week for it to start flying?" She said with enthusiastic voice.

"And that's... Connected to astronomy, how?" Draco replied with hesitation.

"Just saying. Hippogriffs are rare to come by." She put the book down with defeat. "I really hope they are. The only Hippogriff I met scratched my arm." He said bluntly.

Oh yeah. That one.

They finished it all up with less talking than what Y/n had hoped. But well... She believes that she'll get a chance soon enough.

And she did.

Though it was not pretty.

She was running late for potions, it's bad enough that she's late, it's worse cause she's a Hufflepuff. But being late was soon off her mind as she saw Draco fast walking towards the boys bathroom and she swore he got tears in his eyes.

So she ran, not to get to class but to catch up to him. She hesitated at the door to the boy's bathroom. But who cares? Draco may need her help.

So she pushed the door gently, seeing Draco lean over the sink with his sleeves pulled up as he wash his face.

"Draco?" His name fall over her lips so naturally as she called. Draco jumped at the voice, his face dripping as he looked over at her.

He looked surprised and... Scared. What for?

Her eyes then gazed down at his arm. The dark mark.

Her eyes went back to his eyes and he was terrified that he doesn't even know what to say.

He knew she'd be disgusted, terrified, even report him. But it took him by surprised when she entered and locked door and hurriedly came to him with a worried face.

"Are you okay? What happened?" She asked as if she knew him for long. Like he held a special place in her heart.

He couldn't bring himself to talk, not when shes looking at him like that.

She touched the trembled hand containg the dark mark and caressed it. How could they do this? He's 16. Why is this on his arm?

"They forced you, didn't they?" She mumbled with her brows furrowed. His silence says it all. Her eyes met his, but instead of pity, he saw empathy. Understanding. When's the last time he saw that in someone's eyes?

He felt so vulnerable and weak that when she brought him into a hug, all she could do was hung onto her and cry like he's on his mother's arms.

He loved how her hands came up to his head to gently pat it, he loves how her arms were keeping him grounded. Why did it take so long for someone to be like this to him? Why did she only arrive when he's already weak?

Only then did he felt like there is tomorrow. There is path he could take. All from a girl who held him.

Finally, I have a Draco fic! It's so great to post something cause I was dead for a long time because of school 😞

With this fic, I wanted to show just how powerful a single simple gesture does for a person experiencing something such as depression. And with that, I can also portray just how much Draco can change if he just received the right support, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Feel free to request something and I'm happy to be in your service!

Your dearest Author,

NyxTheDeity

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Too Far Gone

Just more angst, thank you @avengers-assemble-bingo for the chance to participate in #AvengersAssembleBingo

Square: B1 ("Don't make me")

Summary: An alternate universe Bucky was sent to stop your rampage but all it does is achieve the opposite effect

The emptiness never fades.

It gnaws away at you with every breath you take, reminding you of your failure, your powerlessness, your inability to protect those you love. So you don the mask, collect more power, become the strongest, all to never lose anyone ever again.

Not that you have anyone to lose anymore.

Your fingers curl, pulling your latest catch towards you squirming and kicking but they can't escape. They can only face their end, watch as a swirling black hole devours them whole, leaving behind nothing except their power. Staring down at them with cold, unfeeling eyes hidden behind a pitch black mask, you crush them with your mind, leaving them to shriek in pain until their body gives out.

To think that your stomach once coiled with horror at the sight of someone being turned into a mess of blood and insides when now you do just that without a second thought, the only thing on your mind being disgust at how such a pathetic being could harbour this kind of power. Gnats don't deserve to live, much less hold power. You turn away from the pile of flesh that lies at your feet, the thrum of your power fading back to a quiet hum, and pocket the ten rings.

Another artifact collected.

There was once where you were afraid of your powers, afraid of what you could do if you ever lost control but today, today you've long dropped the leash, letting go of your fears for you are in control. Everything bends to your will and yours alone, everyone lives in fear of what you can do, and there's nothing you can't do.

But despite it all, you can't bring him back. You've tried everything at your disposal, and all you've ever managed to bring back is a shell of the one you love, not the man himself. It's the one thing that's forever out of your grasp and you've already forced yourself to accept it. You'll never get him back, and that is a fact time can't heal. It tears you apart each time you think about it, your chest constricting with an indescribable pain and the only way to let it out is by tearing everything else apart.

You're sick of other heroes trying to tell you to stop, trying to appeal to your heart with 'innocents will get hurt'. You don't care about innocents anymore, you don't have enough energy or heart to do so. You've given everything to the world — your life, your time, your energy, and what do you get in return? Your entire world brutally ripped away from you, his last breath drawn in your arms, tears clouding your vision and ringing in your ears.

So you will rip everything they love from them in return.

Your path to ultimate power is soaked with blood, whose it is you don't know anymore but you can't be bothered to find out, not that it matters anyways. All that matters is the power you've gained, the destruction you can cause and most importantly, the suffering you can bring. There are no trophies in your residence from your crusade, only a simple display case where his dog tags hang, a permanent reminder of what has taken from you. Days blur into each other and your power always grows, but the void remains.

That was to be your fate, so you thought. A mindless creature fuelled by grief, pain and anger doomed to aimlessly wander around the universe, destroying everything with a single thought just to try and feel something else.

Until he appeared.

You'd sensed his presence before you saw him, a foreign yet familiar signature in your world that caused your heart to ache. Sharp blue eyes, ragged brown locks falling over said eyes, metal arm glinting under the light — all familiar sights you've yearned to lay eyes on just one more time.

"Doll." His voice is strained but you freeze all the same. Tears you long thought lost begin to flow unbidden but you force them to stop.

"Here to try and kill me as well?" Your voice comes out harsh, betraying none of your true emotions.

"No, I'm not." He raises his hands, showing that he isn't holding any weapons. "I'm just here to talk."

"If you're here to tell me to 'think about the innocents', you're wasting your time. The last person who said that had their tongue ripped out before I crushed them to a pulp." You turn, biting the inside of your cheek. Your heart is pounding in your chest, mind churning as your emotions tear you apart once more. You want nothing more than to hold him, cradle the one you call your world but you know this is not him. This is not your Bucky. It won't be the same.

It will never be the same.

"Leave." It's a command that spills from your lips, leaving no room for argument. He stares at you like a lost little lamb, his eyes filling with an emotion that creates a lump in your chest. You're the first one to break eye contact, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

"I will not repeat myself again."

This time he leaves, shoulders hunched but before he walks out the door, he pauses, turning to look over his shoulder. "Is the Y/N I know still in there somewhere?"

"No." You clench your fists tightly. "They died with you."

His gaze flicks to the dog tags on display, sorrow written on his face. "I see. I wish I died with you too."

I miss you.

You know he will be back. It's in his nature, to fight for good, to protect others, to protect the world. You're the enemy here, the villain, and his morals compel him to defeat you. Whether he kills you or not, you're not sure but the both of you will clash in battle and only one can emerge victorious.

You don't know if you can bring yourself to kill him. You've killed countless other heroes before, but none of them are James Buchanan Barnes. None of them have seen your heart laid bare, none know your deepest secrets, none have ever been your entire world. Only he has. Your mind hisses that you have to kill him no matter what, for he now stands in your way but a small part of you fights back, screaming that he's still the man you love, even if he's a different version.

You grit your teeth, frustrated. Why'd he have to appear and ruin your plans? Some hero had to be the one to send him over, someone with the ability to tap into the multiverse. Some…sorcerer.

Doctor Strange, Sorcerer Supreme.

That had to be the person responsible for this mess, the one who brought an alternate universe Bucky to your universe. He has to be removed before he interferes with your plans once more, and you will see your plan of conquest through. It is the only way to ensure you'll never be hurt again, the only way to never lose anything ever again.

Your eyes narrow, the items in your vicinity vibrating as your powers swirl within you. All who oppose you have to die. They made their choice, and you will deliver the consequences. With a snap of your fingers, you find yourself at the doors of the Sanctum Sanctorum, or what's left of it. Golden threads shimmer as you press your hand against the door but you push it open anyways, shielding yourself from the ensuing blast with your powers and step inside like nothing happened.

Footsteps sound from your left and right while the Sorcerer Supreme himself greets you from the front. Your nose picks up the scents of Bucky Barnes and Wanda Maximoff, and you can't help but grin. There's fear in the air, mainly coming from your right and front. Bucky's scent remains calm, but it's laced with concern and worry. You're not sure which you'd prefer, but this pain in your heart isn't helping.

"Y/N L/N. What brings you here?" Strange's voice is guarded.

"I'm here to put an end to your resistance. I know you were the one who brought the alternate universe's Bucky to this universe in hopes of getting him to stop me but it won't work. If you want to get a job done, do it yourself." With a sweep of your arm their knees buckle, crashing to the ground. Bucky grunts, somehow pushing himself up and grasps onto the nearest object to steady himself.

"Y/N…you don't…have to do this…" He gasps, metal hand crushing the table he's gripping onto as he struggles to remain upright.

"You're wrong. I have to. I can't lose anyone again." You clench your fist and red tendrils fly from Wanda's fingertips, clashing with the black tendrils from yours in an explosion of energy. Strange throws up a shield, protecting the trio from the debris and Bucky takes the opportunity to make his move.

Bucky's scent moves from your left to behind you and you sent him flying back with a flick of your wrist, wincing internally when you hear his body hit the door hard. Letting out a growl of frustration, you try to force your feelings down, refusing to let them interfere.

You've started down this path, you can't stop now.

Gold and red clash with black, and you can see the desperation in their eyes. Bucky is their key to victory for some reason or another, and the two sorcerers are doing their best to keep your attention on them so that he can prepare for something. It's working so far, you can't take your eyes off Strange or Wanda lest one of their spells land a devastating blow on you, and the only way to keep track of Bucky is through scent, but you need to actively search for it since he isn't registered as a threat.

Letting out a snarl of frustration, you pull both sorcerers towards you. They shine in long range spells but are less well-versed in close quarters combat. You on the other hand, started off as a close-quarters combatant, and that is your forte. Eyes gleaming, black mist condenses into a dagger that drops into your palm and you thrust the blade forward, aiming for Strange's heart when suddenly, metal tentacles wrap themselves around your arm, the blade mere inches from its target.

Crap. You forgot to keep track of him.

The tentacles yank you towards him and black mist swirls, ready to sever them when red and gold tendrils wrap themselves around the rest of your limbs, holding you in place. Hissing, you clench your fist, letting your powers feel their way around before pulling the entire building towards you, knowing that there will be two people in the way.

You're rewarded when the tendrils keeping you in place vanish and the metal tentacles slither back towards their owner. Exhaling deeply, you push on the debris gathered around you, sending them flying back the way they came.

Time to end this.

Black mist swirls around you as you stalk towards the two sorcerers, gravity holding them down. You can smell the fear that permeates the air once more and it excites you, for the end is near. With a single thought, all obstacles will finally be removed and nothing will be able to stop you anymore.

Blades of black appear behind you, poised to kill when suddenly they all shatter. You whirl around, despising how your instincts don't detect Bucky as a threat which allows him to pull off all these surprise attacks coupled with his assassination skills, and let out a growl.

"Don't make me." Your fingers curl, causing what's left of the ground to tremble.

"Right back at you, doll." His words are tinged with sadness, his gun pointed at you. You can see his trigger finger shake, he doesn't want to pull the trigger, he can't bring himself to kill the one who shares the image of his lover.

But you can. No, you have to.

"Why must you insist on standing in my way?!" Black mist envelopes the ruined Sanctorum, covering it with darkness. Your eyes glow an eerie yellow, ink decorating your arms and neck Bucky's eyes widen and you see the fear in the ice blue eyes. He's afraid of you, the person who swore to protect him no matter the cost, the person who promised to be a safe haven for him. Your heart plummets, throat dry and your raised hand shakes. The black mist wavers, mimicking its master's resolve and Bucky takes the chance to close the gap but he too falters at the crucial moment.

Before his finger can pull the trigger, a black blade pierces through his chest. He gasps, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth and the gun falls from his hand, but not before a singular bullet is fired, slicing open the skin of your left cheek. The cut stings, but the pain is nothing compared to what you're feeling in your chest. A tear slides down your face, melting into the wound as your favourite ice blue eyes gloss over. His chest falls for the last time and you close your eyes, jaw clenched.

"I'm sorry Buck, I can't let you see me like this. It's for the best, I'd rather you remember me for who I was before, not who I am now." You turn away from the body, ice flooding through your veins.

No more weaknesses, no more faltering. Your path of conquest almost ended because you wavered, because you second guessed yourself. You cannot afford that anymore, not when there's no other path for you to walk. Your next step now is to eliminate the two sorcerers at your feet, and scour the multiverse for other sources of power.

You know that means potentially finding more Buckys, which means needing to confront the image of the one you loved again and again but your chest doesn't tighten at the thought anymore. There's just a stone lodged there now and you feel empty.

"Y/N." Strange pleads but his cries fall on deaf ears. You look down at them with contempt, yellow eyes glowing and wave your hand, not even looking back at the messy aftermath. No one will ever stop you again. You've started down this path, carved it with the blood of guilty and innocents alike, and there is no going back. Not anymore.

The path ahead will be flooded with more blood, you know, but you no longer feel anything about it. There is no contempt for the weak, no rage at the world that has taken everything from you, only the cold still emptiness of the void that has consumed you.

The Void. Yeah that's a good name. Y/N L/N is dead. The Void has been born.

[worldly-fluster]

WARNING: ANGST

So. As I've said in Zayne's, I'm gonna make this one (or try anyway) very very much angst.

--Rafayel-- Part 4 of 4

Last but not least, Fishy.

This is gonna be a little different from the other three, there might be death, but in the end there will be some comfort. I can't have angst without a little comfort in the end or I feel big sad lol.

Rafayel-

•He could get used to this.

•Your smiles and laughs that seem to be for only him.

•You can match his jokes with your sharp tongue and funny humor. He adores when you give him that confident look paired with your hand on the hip and flick of the wrist.

•This is what he knew you could be.

•Not like how he found you.

•Never again. No more silence, stares into the void with no sparkly shine in your eyes. Blank and waiting for something.

•Oh if he got his hands on whomever did that to you before he met you...

•He loves that he can finally help you be yourself now, and always.

•Honestly he just wants to stay with you, but then you would have missions. Constantly.

•This time was supposed to be a normal mission. Like all the others.

•You told him a day, two at least. And you'll be back. You even gave him a bag of yours so you would have a reason to come back to him, instead of straight home.

•He waited for those two days. Before he got a message from Thomas.

•Thomas told him to look at the news, and what he saw made his skin wash in a cold sweat and his breathe leave him.

•It was the place of your mission, they were talking about the casualties and how many are yet to be recovered.

•They showed videos of the carnage. He felt sick.

•He called, texted, and yet no answer. It felt like a cruel prank, like a punch to the gut by the tail of a whale.

•Where were you, were you okay?...Maybe your bag that you left had something to help? He doesn't know why he thought that but he needed to do something other than panic.

•He refuses to believe you could be gone. Not again.

•He opened it and didn't find much, your favorite plushie, a large hoodie, a notebook, a plastic bottle full of sea shells and sand-wait the notebook? Maybe it has something right?

•He opened it to a random page and...wait...why...No. No.NoNoNo that can't be it.

•Why would you give him this? This is talking about how to help him feel better after you d- No, there has to be something else. Something he's not getting.

•You can't be, no way, not yet. You're supposed to grow old next to him. You can't leave him alone again.

•No way would you know-...wait, this is the bag you gave him every time you went on a mission like this...

•But there were times when you would just give him the bag for no reason- there has to be more to it right?

•He reads just a little more.

•What...he can't...he can't breathe, it feels like the weight of the ocean is on him again...

•He throws the book across the room and picks up his phone again and before he can call you again, his phone rings.

•Its you.

•He hardly lets the phone ring twice, only because of his initial shock, when he answers.

•"Where the hell are you?! You-! You need to-! I can't-! Why..."

•He can barely get anymore words out before he chokes on the words, his pearly tears streaming down his paler than normal face.

•"I-I need you...to come here. Now. Please."

•He hears your soothing sweet voice telling him you'll be there in a few minutes, you were already on your way when you called back.

•It feels like years to him before he hears you walking up to his door.

•He has it open before you can make it to the threshold. He's a mess, his hair all over the place, his clothes wrinkled and front slightly wet, his face a little puffy and red from tears.

•His shaky yet strong arms are around you in seconds.

•"You're not leaving me again. Not for work, missions, or just out with friends. I can't- won't let you out of my sight until the ocean dries up. And even then I can't stand it, you're not going anywhere..."

•You can see behind him over his shaking shoulder, the bag you left is on the floor opened. The notebook can be seen practically torn in half on the far side of the room.

•You have tears in your eyes as you realize he read it's content, there isn't any going back from that.

•You hug him back as you say, "I wouldn't have it any other way, honestly."

•He hugs you close to him for what seems like hours, breathing in your sent, feeling your warmth. Knowing that sooner or later he will have to let you go...but that can be later. Not now, he wishes never.

***😁 @an-ever-angry-bi ***

[wrr000]

"like a shadow"

Summary: The ghoul you hired for protection liked you more than both of you would expect.

Warnings: english isn't my first language; really short; it's from my Cooper x oc fic, but idk if I should post chapters here; pure soft; inner thoughts; reader is similiar to Lucy

»»————-　♡　————-««

You finally made it to town. Walking thru the wasteland felt like an endless journey while burning sun was always watching every step of foolish humans, who dared to cross these lands. And it wasn't the only threat waiting for your mistep. You earned that stop to rest and gather strength. He deserved it as well.

This place was pretty civilian. By the standards of the wasteland, of course. People were trying to live a "normal" life and some constantly pretended like The Great War never happened. You didn't mind it as long as they didn't act suspicious towards you. Besides, he was here and that made you feel... safe. Kinda. Weird nonetheless.

He was the one who announced parting ways in town and you kindly agreed (like you had a choice).

"I'm goin' to check what chems they got here, think you can handle things on your own, Vaultie" - usual smirk appeared on his fucked up face.

That ghoul was driving you insane. Even after paying him for escort and protection he was still threatening you and bitching around that he actually doesn't care about you and if something big is going to happened - his life goes first, not you. But the sad truth was - you couldn't really blame him.

Ironically, someone like him turned out to be the kindest thing you met since reaching the surface. He was terriyfing, cruel and nothing alike anyone from the Vault. But as time passed, you saw something more in him, under that hard shell and feeling of fear passed. His action were still shocking to you, but wasteland has it's own rules and you started to understand that.

It wasn't a suprise that Cooper didn't want to walk around the town. You felt like he couldn't stand you. But it was fine, you kinda enjoyed exploring and discovering the town alone. Just like the good old times as a child in the Vault.

Little you knew that you had a shadow. Unaware of a pair of penetrating eyes watching your every graceful move. Your smile was the brightest on the whole planet and every small gesture was full of passion. Analizing you very carefuly. You didn't saw him, but he saw you perfectly.

It was hard for the ghoul to admit it to himself that he grew fond of you during your journey together. Very hard. Worst, poor bounty hunter realized that he had a soft spot for a stupid naive Vaultie. Thankfully, you didn't notice anything and he could suffer in silence.

You reminded him of a long gone humanity. Always kind and polite, naive as hell, delusional and annoying. You even never judged him for being a ghoul! Ohhh, how he hated you, but loved at the same time. You were like his human half, a long lost part. He knew you wouldn't last long out there, people like you never lasted long.

Cooper took this job for money of course. You offered a good amount of caps and it was equal with massive stock of chems. But now, he thougth to himself, it would be a shame if something happened to you, right? That's why he was doing an "extra" job. Always watching, even if he didn't had to, always protecting you, even if you didn't noticed it.

In a long long long time the ghoul felt like a human again. It was pissing him off, but he missed that feeling. Well, he missed his whole previous life actually, more than he would like, but you kinda started to filling that void inside his ghoulish heart. Slowly.

[dessertpanda]

The Music Box

2012Donnie x FemReader (fluffy/a little angst) MasterList

[FINALS ARE OVER AND IM FREEEE!!!!! Anyways! I'm so happy, i know ive been like MIA but i promise, I'll get y'all as many chapters as possible!!! Okay.... WHO HERE LOVES  2012 TURTLES!! Me i do... and Donnie is one of my favorites... Anyways this is becoming way too long... My point is... everyone remembers the Music box/ Big Foot episode right? Anyways this is based on that a Donnie x FemReader!.. please enjoy]

   "Ugh" Donnie sat, arms resting against the railway of the farmhouse porch. He was gazing into the night sky, unsure how to react to the day's rejection. The music box he had worked so hard on... from the construction of it, the careful song selection... the specific images chosen to decorate the delicate gift. He couldn't help but wonder if this whole crush thing was really worth it... Even after the kiss she gave him after the Big Foot incident... Going as far as calling him 'My Mutant.' her voice rang through his head... but was he really? "No... no, I'm just... A mutant... nothing more." He knew this... he'd known this for so long but, yet "God, I'm such an idiot," The soft thud of the music box falling from his hands didn't even faze him.

"D? You okay?" Y/n's soft voice rang out through the empty woods. Donnie glanced back at the front door, eyes slightly narrowing at her appearance.

"Oh, Hey..."  From the look in his eyes, she knew he had been crying, not to mention the slight rough end to his voice. He barely recognized her existence, simply drifting into his own little world.

"Okay, Y/n... let's help him out." She muttered to herself, kneeling down to gently retrieve the discarded music box. "It's beautiful!" As she stood to full height... she couldn't help but admire the careful craftsmanship that Donnie had put into it. Running her fingers softly over the engravings that littered the side. Each flower, letter, star... was all hand carved. She couldn't take her eyes away from the masterpiece... only looking away when she heard Donnie's frustrated groan.

"Not good enough apparently..." Shaking his head with a scowl... his voice hoarse. He looked over as the soft music began to play from the box... a soft gasp escaped Y/n's throat.

"It... you even had it play her favorite song..."

"I know..." Donnie sighed, leaning down to rest his head on his arms... a solemn look still present on his face. She could see him trying hard to suppress the sour feelings of rejection and sadness.

"Wanna... take a walk? Maybe talk a little?" She gently sat the music box on the swing chair that softly swayed with the night's air.

"Sure... sounds better than... whatever I'm doing right now" Pushing himself up off the railing, and slowly followed Y/n down the steps. For the first while, they walked in silence, the wildlife alone filling the void. The sounds of Owls softly cooing and rodents running across the ground. After getting a decent distance from the house, Y/n determined it was time to talk.

"Alright Turtle man... time to spill that heart." She watched as his shoulders slumped slightly, making his way over to a large rock and sitting his shell on it. Y/n could tell he wasn't exactly in a talking mood but followed his lead, sitting next to him on the rock, gently encouraging him.

"I just... really wanted to impress her..." he gently kicked the dirt, trying his best to avoid eye contact with her.

"Well... I don't think my opinion matters to you as much as hers but... I think it's impressive." She shrugged softly.

"Yeah... you're right...it doesn't... and she didn't." He murmured, the bitter tone did little to hurt Y/n's feelings, knowing he was in his feels. Never raising his gaze higher than the base of the tress.

"I'm sorry D... She just doesn't realize what she's missing."  A loud sigh left the tech genius. Gently shaking his head...

"I'm sorry for my harsh tone... it's not your fault..." he finally lifted his gaze to meet her y/c/e's. "It's not hers either... I just... I need to get over this little crush." he stared at her face for a moment... subconsciously admiring her features... "I... I don't exactly know how to do that tho..."

"Well..." Y/n blushed softly at his gaze... knowing he wasn't exactly looking at her... simply trying to focus his attention on anything other than his broken heart. "How about we do... Pros and cons! That way you can clearly see her... not just through rose-colored lenses." She hummed, pulling her T-phone from her pocket to take notes... "okay! Ready when you are! Let's start with the pros!"

She patiently waited as Donnie thought over all the pros about the redhead. "W-well her personality and sense of humor are some of the firsts that come to mind," he hummed, setting his hand against his chin in thought. "and she's a very intelligent girl," Y/n could only huff at his longing look. "She's... empathetic and protective... and..." He hummed... signifying that he had concluded his list.

"Okay... seems pretty good! Now... some bad things." She hummed, gently tapping away at her phone before looking up at him.

"She... can be judgmental at times... and she holds grudges for the longest time..." she glanced up at the sound of his shell scratching against the rock... watching as he sank to the floor, back preset near her legs.

"And... she's demanding... jumps to conclusions over anything," Y/n smirked softly... feeling his rage and annoyance slowly seeping through. "She... plays with my emotions! a-and doesn't appreciate anything I do!" With fast movements, he was constantly changing his position. Finally settling on a standing one, pacing back and forth in front of Y/n. With a soft hum, Y/n nodded along, making sure to put little star emojis by the traits he seemed most annoyed with.

 "Okay... another decent list!" gently setting the phone down on the spot Donnie was once sitting. "Okay... how about we talk about another person's positive traits!!" With a raised eyebrow, Donnie softly nodded. Curious as to the reason but trusting her nonetheless.

"Well... Raph is very protective, stubborn but... strong... and loving." He chuckled softly at the thoughts of his brother.

"Awesome! Let's keep going! continue, onto another!" She was glad Donnie's mode was shifting... slowly but steadily.

"Mikey is a good cook, and always knows how to bring the mood! Not to mention his enthusiastic attitude is something to envy!" He stopped his pacing for a moment... turning to face away from Y/n and just staring into the woods. "Then there's Leo... his sense of justice is impeccable, he's determined and funny... and just overall all," He turned to Y/n with a bright smile on his face. "Just all of my Brothers are... amazing," She giggled softly at his upbeat mood. "and... you!" he hushed as he was staring at her.

"Me?..." She tilted her head, and a soft nod signaled him to continue...

"You... you're very caring, kind, empathetic... and so patient with me... my brothers," He was back to playing with the dirt... but his words continued to flow "You're smart, strong... and pretty... PRETTY FUNNY!" He was quick to follow his words... trying to cover up his slip. "a-and you're sarcastic! But that adds to you being pretty funny." He moved to look at her again... his smile still bright.

"Feeling better?"

"yeah... a lot actually..." He moved again, taking his original spot on the rock... taking Y/n's T-phone into his hands. "This... helped... in an odd way." He sighed, handing her back her T-phone, before leaning back onto his arms.

"Wanna hear some pros and cons about you?" She scooted closer to him, gently patting his arm. He wasn't expecting her to offer such things. But after a few short moments, he nodded softly, somewhat nervous about what she could potentially say. "Hmm well for starters you're a literal genius, not to mention just how quick of a thinker you are!" She hummed softly, before continuing. "Anything scientist related you give 100 percent! And you're so caring, especially towards the person you love," She giggled softly glancing up to see his reaction.

"I... what else?" His face was flushed, a red color pigmented even through his green skin.

"oh! Your gap tooth is so cute! and the little whistle it does when you're sleeping... BUT C-Cons!! Right, you!" She gently cleared her throat, stopping herself before she went too far. "c-cons... you can be a little workaholic... and you're slightly obsessive." she finished, looking in the complete opposite direction of him, trying to hide the blush that littered her cheeks.  However, a three-fingered hand gently tugged her face so she would face him again.

"Y/n...thank you... really," He held a soft smile, looking into her eyes.  His own brownish-red ones held a soft gleam. He was flushed beyond belief but... he knew he had to thank her... for not only lighting his mood... but also showing him... just how amazing he was. "I know... now... that love will be a far-off thing for me but, it's nice to know you appreciate me.," He let out a soft gasp when she suddenly took hold of the hand on her face.

"Donnie... please don't think you're unlovable... just because April doesn't see you... doesn't mean there's not another girl who looks at you with the same eyes you give her,"  She smiled softly, pressing his hand closer into her cheek... "I promise... there's another girl... far closer than you think." She watched as his eyes gathered with tears, but he had a lax look.

"Thank you... I... I promise that when I'm ready...I'll love that girl... to the moon and back..." His heart was pounding. For his own good, he knew he should wait to truly ask her... but he needed her to know... to know that he understood her words... wholeheartedly.

"Don't worry Donnie... I'll be here," she hummed, leaning her head towards his face... watching as he closed his eyes... just soaking in her words..."I'll be here..." She whispered, before finally resting her forehead against his.

(OKAY HEAR ME OUT... this 2012 Donnie sometimes reminds me of Sanji... anyways!! hope you all enjoyed!! and I love yall!!!

HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL)

[noxiousgrace]

Hi I'm a marksman!krs believer

I've imagined him sitting in the ruins of a flattened korea, turning the safety on his gun on and off

Tw: suicide ideation

-----

Click (pull), click (don't), click (pull), click (don't)

Drowning in grief, he sits alone on cracked pavement.

He sits in the void of everyone he's ever cared about, the misery serves as a comfortable perch.

.

Click (pull), click (don't), click (pull), click (don't)

.

Plucking the sounds coming from his gun like it's a daisy.

They loved me, they loved me not

I'll end it, I'll end it not

The ringing in his ears and mind can't be silenced by white noise anymore

Click

.

Click

.

Click

.

He hears a scream off in the distance, his hand is already raised and the trigger has been pulled before his stagnant mind can catch up.

A creature takes it's final breath, it's prey running back to safety.

He looks at his gun, smoke still staining the air.

"i must be going insane" he said to the ghosts over his shoulder.

Taking one last look at the empty sky, he went back to his shell.

His responsibility.

The things that were left to him.

He paid for this with other peoples lives.

He isn't allowed a freedom such as death until he's paid off that debt.

It feels endless.

He deserves it, people don't understand that fact.

Stop offering me a vacation

I don't get to be tired

I couldn't even send them off properly

I didn't waste the energy to cry so why do i need to rest

I'm fine

My heart doesn't need rest if I don't have one in the first place

Leave me, alone, please

Let me ignore it, i hate pain.

It hurts.

Thinking hurts.

He places the finished stack of documents to the side, picking up a new pile to sort through.

He writes monster descriptions after that.

He works, the gun now forgotten in his drawer.

He will do what he must.

.

.

.

"jung soo and i are happy as well."

....

Fuck.

I'm glad.

I'm sorry for thinking of your last words as a burden.

I'm free now.

My shoulders feel light.

I never knew they were this heavy until the weight was gone

Thank you

[athforskz]

Sticky Dates - Bang Chan

Masterlist

type: drabble, angst (?)

wc: ~800

not proof-read

warnings: crying, loneliness, yearning, olfactophilia

a/n: wow something that isn’t explicit. also absolutely convinced that this man would smell like heaven.

Enjoy lovelies!

The place you called home felt empty, quiet, voided. It had become a shell of itself ever since you were the only one stepping through the threshold at night. Some days you couldn’t even bear to come back to the small and cozy apartment because it meant you’d be sleeping another night alone. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle being on your own, it was more so about the constant reminders of him that these four walls held.

You loved the memories you created with Chan, the good, the bad, all of it. But maybe you loved them to a fault. Too much to the point where you can’t stay while he was away. Maybe that was another flaw of yours; depending on him so much. It couldn’t be helped though. That’s just the kind of love you two shared. Chan loved to be needed by you, and you loved to need him. Honestly, it was a dangerous game to play considering his job and now you were paying the price for it.

A heavy sigh left your chest as you entered the darkened apartment. This was the first time you’d been back in three days: opting to stay with your best friend to avoid coming back home. Home? No, your home was gone, he was out traveling the world for the next six months on another world tour. This place was simply a shelter while Chan was away. Nonetheless, you had to face the reality, he had already been gone for a month and you still hadn’t gotten yourself into a routine to make the quiet, well, less quiet.

You made your way into the bedroom and stared at the bed where he normally slept. The sight of the empty space made your heart clench and pull out your phone to stare at the lockscreen of you two. It was a photo of you both laughing together at the beach that was taken on a trip while visiting his family. He had you wrapped up in his arms and his nose was all crinkled with laugh lines, you could still hear his little squeaky laugh playing in your head. If only you could actually hear it again right now. Maybe you should call him?

Your thumb hovered over Chan’s contact debating on if it was a good idea or not. It felt like an hour passed before you finally decided against it, you didn’t want to bother him. He’s probably busy, besides he said he’d call when he had the time. Chan always called, in fact, you spoke with him this morning, but now that you were back in the bedroom you two shared the need to hear his voice became overwhelming.

Dammit, when did you get so clingy? You shook your head to steel your resolve. You’ve gotta get it together if you’re going to get through half a year with Chan being on tour. Just one step at a time, you thought to yourself while entering the attached bathroom. A shower should do you some good.

The water cascading down your body felt heavenly, you hadn’t even noticed how tense your muscles had gotten before the warmth and steam enveloped you. When you had turned to grab the body wash your eyes landed on the half empty Lush bottle on the shelf, it was one of Chan’s favorite scents. A pout formed on your lips when you opened the bottle and inhaled, it smelled just like him. It sent a rush of mixed feelings through you, the smell of him making you think he was so close, yet he was still so far. You lathered the soap all over your body savoring the smell of Chan flooding your senses. Maybe this would end up becoming your favorite scent too.

Eventually, the water ran cold after spending such a long time in the shower. You were trying to soak up every second possible in your makeshift Channie scented sauna. You continued with the theme of ‘Chan-ifying’ yourself by spritzing a bit of his cologne on your neck and even putting on one of his black t-shirts to sleep in. Anything to make the illusion of him last a little bit longer.

Your mood had been content until you had slipped into his side of the bed, then the weight of how much you missed Chan hit you. You buried your face into his pillow and a whine left your throat as your eyes watered. There was nothing more you could do besides face the emotion of missing the love of your life. It’d get easier as time went on, it had to, right?

Just as a pitiful sob was about to make its escape, your phone began ringing. It was like your whole world lit up again when you saw his contact flashing across the screen. You answered the video call without a second thought. The lazy smile on Chan’s face instantly warmed your heart.

And for a little while, you felt at home again.

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @oc3anfloor @crybabykurominho

[scarletwritesshit]

🦕 Anaxa x Aglaea 🦕 Wire Monkey Theorem

Aglaea always thought that Anaxa’s obsession with the dromases was rather frivolous. In fact, it was almost comical to her. Dromas figures, dromas plushies, dromas pajamas…dromas nicknames, even.

Despite a scoff here and there from Aglaea, it never bothered her, truthfully. A love for such creatures, though common and utilitarian, inflicted no harm. There were far more pressing matters for her to pick fights with him over, such as, literally everything. Everything, they conflicted over, until the very end.

A short-lasting resolution, only for her beloved Anaxagoras to be the next to fall victim to the hands of fate. Though she was the one to set the stones in place on Anaxa’s path to the final destination, it was not done so without hesitation. So many words were left unsaid, and though they had managed to find a common ground and stand upon it together, lingering grudges cannot be settled as fast as one may wish.

Anaxa had not even a gravesite for Aglaea to visit in memoriam. Only one of many constellations in the Amphoreus sky was reminiscent of his legacy, and her only present option was to speak to these very stars and pray that he could hear.

“Anaxa, my dear Anaxa, your silence pains me so. Your sharp tongue has grown dull; humor me with one final witty remark, won’t you please?”

No response.

It was to be expected, as stars don’t have a voice of their own. Nevertheless, Aglaea felt uneasy with the lack of retribution. Never would her threads tremor at the jab of an insult under his breath, or catch a glimpse of him walking amongst the streets of Okhema.

The illuminated constellation would still be there to gaze upon her from the sky.

Aglaea wouldn’t be able to see his guiding light.

Remnants of his studies still lay scattered about the Grove of Epiphany.

Aglaea could not read the calligraphy for how it was written by him.

All she had left to cling onto were the memories of his voice slowly fading from what remained of her mind and the sensation of when their hands would accidentally brush amidst their scuffles. The one man who had managed to make her feel almost human again would be there to prod her no longer. If she claimed to have felt empty before, then at the present moment, she was nothing more than a shell of a former human being.

Anaxa was the only person Aglaea felt as if she could cling onto, regardless of her willingness to admit such. What little that was left of him was just enough to patch up the void within her heart. She forced herself to turn away from the stars that she could neither see nor embrace in her arms.

What living love of Anaxa’s that did remain, however, were the dromases. The creatures very much served their purpose of transportation, and thus Aglaea thought positively of them alone, but she had never bothered to interact with them much for herself.

On the contrary, Anaxa was obsessed with them. She had seen his obsession as childish, and a complete waste of time, though now the dromases were perhaps her only way of connecting with him at least one final time.

The dromases were not an uncommon occurrence within the city walls, a partial factor as to why she could not understand his fascination with them. Or perhaps, their commonness was indeed a factor as to why he was so obsessed with them.

Aglaea wished that she had asked him why. Just once.

Too late.

She had nothing left.

Just what he had left.

⋆｡°✩

She ran the palm of her hand down the side of the dromas's thick leg. Its scales were smooth and radiated a warmth existent only due to the ever-present sun.

In a way, it reminded her of Anaxa.

Everything was reminding her of Anaxa.

The massive creature kept its leg still, careful as to not accidentally crush her. Aglaea was prepared to duck out of the way in the event of a sudden movement, but the beast was surprisingly mindful of her smaller size. As she was gently stroking its leg, she felt the creature sniff her gently, then groaned out of curiosity.

"You still smell remnants of your beloved Anaxagoras on me, don’t you?"

The dromas growled gently and quietly. She had never bothered to communicate with them so closely, but already she could feel the sense of a mutual understanding. It nudged her very gently with its nose, as if to say yes to her question.

"You’re such an adorable thing. I would almost hate to say these words to you myself, though it’s not like you can understand me."

The dromas shook its head as if to say, Of course I can understand you, my lady! Aglaea smiled, then rested her head against its leg.

"Oh, you poor beast. Anaxa has regretfully departed from this world. He couldn’t even say his final farewell to any of you.”

The dromas growled, lifted up its head, and shook it no in disbelief. Aglaea could feel through her golden threads that the dromas was quite upset. It clearly did not want to believe her, but it was hard to dispute the integrity of her words when her body held such strong traces of his scent. She hadn’t enough experience with the dromases to be able to personally comfort them, let alone the single one she was leaned against.

The ones in the pen cried out once the realizations had struck them. Those who were strolling by stalled their travels in equal disbelief. Aglaea was being deafened by their grief vibrating throughout her strings. And she had no way of knowing how to silence it, thanks to her negligence.

It really seemed as if the dromases were more than just a strange fascination to Anaxa. The creatures viewed him as one of their own, and the love he held for them was all the equal.

Aglaea felt alive, but only alive with guilt.

Though unable to communicate in the same tongue, the dromas that Aglaea had clung onto had offered its condolences.

"I should be offering you my apologizes," she said, "for I was ignorant of just how much he cared for your kind."

The dromas seemed to understand that there was no harm nor foul intended by her actions. It nudged her as if to say it accepted and understood her apology. The threads that bound their communication together remained motionless. Could they even serve as a reliable indicator of a creature’s thoughts? She hadn’t bothered to question such prior. Aglaea would have to hope that the treads that bound the city were as reliable as always, upholding the same values of truth between Chrysos Heir and dromas alike.

It seemed to have accepted her rather quickly. Perhaps knowing of Anaxa’s scent helped her gain its trust. Aglaea let go of the dromas, and it protested by nudging its leg towards her. It seemed to be wanting her to act as a stand in for Anaxa.

She couldn’t do it. She didn’t even have a fraction of the knowledge as he did.

She had nothing left.

Not even her own humanity left.

Aglaea wasn’t even sure how much longer she was going to be physically around herself.

"I must leave now," she said, gently nudging the dromas away with the palm of her hand, "my duty calls, and the prophecy waits for no one.”

Unable to look back, Aglaea left the dromas pen. The dromas stomped its foot and bellowed for her return, but ultimately gave up and turned away.

During a rare moment of downtime, Aglaea once more paid a visit to the dromases. The gentle roar from the creature signified that it was delighted for her return.

"I know nothing, yet you are still delighted to see me?"

The dromas groaned in agreement.

"You are most aware that I cannot substitute as him, correct?" she said, lifting her hand up.

The dromas nudged her hand gently with its nose. It had grown quite fond of her touch rather quickly. A most curious behavior as her hands hardly felt the same as his, her body hardly had the same chill as his, and her body would no longer carry remnants of that scent of his.

It must be terribly lonely, Aglaea thought.

The others were eyeing her up with longing as well, and she could sense a void within their hearts that felt all too familiar. Sliding her hand off of the dromas’s nose, she walked over to the other ones within the enclosure, who looked at her with immense curiosity. They took turns investigating her, and all it took was a single sniff for them to accept her.

Anaxa’s presence must have provided them with a man and beast friendship that only he could bring, and they must have been under the assumption that Aglaea was capable of doing the same.

They were quiet.

They were gentle.

It wouldn’t wear away at her to spend even just a little extra time with the dromases.

"...I can at least come and visit you, should time allot to it."

The dromases stared at her in anticipation.

"Though, do be aware that I cannot serve as a true replacement for our beloved Anaxagoras."

Despite the dromases not being satisfied with her answer, they still retained a mellow tone. No true protests, nothing. Aglaea was starting to understand why he was so greatly fond of those creatures.

Though there was a mutual respect between Chrysos Heir and creature, something still felt...missing from their bond. The scales of the dromases naturally felt cool and smooth like Anaxa’s shell of a body, but they didn’t quite feel like him. Remnants of Anaxa were still present on Aglaea, but even the dromases weren’t blind to the fact that she wasn’t him.

All in all, it was a temporary solution. A bandaid laid upon shattered pottery. Even when such a realization fell upon Aglaea, she still continued to selfishly dedicate her time to the dromases, as a stand in for the comfort of Anaxa’s presence. As time carried on, despite Aglaea and the dromases having each other, it only seemed as if they all grew lonelier and emptier. She didn’t allow herself consciously to acknowledge that.

"It’s just as how Anaxa would have carried on," Aglaea claimed.

The strings in Okhema vibrated.

[acaaai-t]

3 months and counting

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk

The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.

Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.

The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.

Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.

How long has it been? He wonders.

Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.

Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.

He misses you.

On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.

For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.

It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.

The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.

“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.

What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.

Gone… all gone, far too soon.

“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.

Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”

You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”

“Hey,” he whined.

You beamed up at him. “I love you.”

How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.

“I love you too.”

God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?

It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.

He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.

Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.

The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.

3 months.

It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.

Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.

Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”

“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”

He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.

Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”

Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.

The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”

There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”

Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.

“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.

Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.

Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.

His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.

“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.

There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.

He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.

Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.

He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.

The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.

Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.

The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.

Then it all went dark.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was fun to write

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate