#i put the text in the empty space instead of where text is supposed to go usually just to make it easier on myself

[drawnbythestream]

A “quick” doodle storyboard of one of my favorite moments from the JA series

[helluvapoison]

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

[yiiyiiwrites]

Azriel x Day court scholar

You’re a day court scholar working as a historian, specialising in ancient magic and politics. Azriel’s shadows knew before you did, that you were his mate.

When you first see the shadows:

You catch a glimpse of a flicker of darkness, a floating shadow but it’s gone as soon your eyes leave the yellowed page of your book.

Turning back you stare at the cursive text, trying to find your last place. You scan the page, brows scrunching as the tiny shadow escapes from beneath it. As if it was marking the space, three pages back.

The next time you come across the tiny shadow it’s accompanied by another. It catches the book you’ve reached for before it falls to the floor, the action nearly makes you fall off the ladder.

You don’t know, but a part of your light magic particle tangles with one of his shadows. Azriel keeps it close to him wondering when he’ll see you

When you meet Azriel for the first time:

You’re staring a marbled statue in the depths of the library, convinced you saw the smooth face shift. But it was a trick of the shadows

A member of the night court is supposed to be visiting looking for a specific set of history books. There deep in the library, it’s a bit dim but theres lanterns grouped together wherever there is space, it fills the darkness with a yellow glow.

You see his shadows before you meet him, they dance around you before they return to him. It’s like spark of sunlight, the warmth of the day washes other you and you can’t help but stare at him.

Azriel squints back as you emit a glow around your body, he wonders if that’s what stars look like. He wonders if it’s a shield, if he puts you on edge. So he dips his head slightly and introduces himself.

“Oh forgive me, I’m still trying to work on the whole energy thing, happens quite a lot actually I don’t quite know what triggers it exactly,” you ramble on, beckoning him forwards to show him the way. (It’s not till later that you realise his shadows are the reason you keep glowing)

Catching his gaze between the empty shelf of bookcases. He’s down the next aisle from you and you can’t help but blush when your eyes connect, the ladder beneath you wobbling. You don’t see the shadows stabilising it.

Azriel offers to carry the heavy books for you as pick from the long list and map you’re following.

You pick an old leather bound tome from the pile and place it on the table, dust rising and pushing his shadows away as you blow the excess dirt off the cover.

Azriel courting you:

Library dates become both your favourite. Deep into the historic section where most people don’t wander.

Stolen kisses between the aisles of books.

He loves that you ramble about your new findings, you know that mystical creature that hasn’t been sighted in centuries or the old gods tradition you’d never heard of. (He definitely goes home and tells the boys. Did you know).

Trying to surprise him, but he always knows you’re approaching. He just lets you think you sneaked up on him.

Calls you “my light.”

Sometime you meet each other on the border between the night and day court.

Leaving notes for each other when you share a book.

You’re not fond of the dark, there’s always that little bit of light beside you keeping you company, but it’s now got a shadowy friend dancing around it.

When the mating bond snaps:

Makes the most of having you to himself, he visits the day court instead of you going to Velaris.

Azriel teaching you how to defend yourself, which goes wrong when you send a pulse of light at him in frustration. He jokes that you should probably not wear metal armour.

Gifting him a necklace with a little bit of your light energy in it. So that he can use it in the darkness whenever he wants you.

Doesn’t introduce you to the inner circle until you’re ready. Which takes you a while

Warns cassian to be on his best behaviour and threatens not to get him that old war book from the day court if he over steps.

You introduce him to your scholar friends who practically interrogate him as they are just as in awe by his shadows as you are. Granted you only two friends so it’s not too overwhelming.

[theamberfist]

Despite Everything | Vox + Reader + Alastor

Familial! Alastor is reader's dad, Vox is the dad that stepped up

Description: Tension is still high now that Alastor and Vox are fighting over you; can you and your father(s) come to an understanding despite all that has happened?

(Notes: CW Alastor, angst) (gender neutral reader) (Reader Alastor's kid from life) (Could be biological or adopted) (Teen Reader)

❀ This is part 2 of Hell's Second Greatest Dad! ❀

❀ This one will have a song! It's a rewrite of More than Anything, but with Alastor and reader instead of Lucifer and Charlie ❀

Words: 3,180

You weren't sure how long you'd been asleep for, but you woke up completely disoriented and tangled in your blankets. Since you had light-blocking curtains on your windows, you couldn't even tell what time it was as you sat up, rubbed your eyes, and looked around. A now-empty box of tissues rested on your bedside table, and one glance at your full trash can told you that was probably where they'd all gone.

Your eyes still stung like you'd been crying recently too, but at the moment, you couldn't remember what had caused you to do so. Finally untangling yourself from the blankets entrapping you, you rolled over and grabbed your phone. There were several missed calls and texts from Vox, which startled you. had you done something to upset or worry him? You were too sleepy to recall right now. 

Your most recent message, though, was a text from Velvette promising she would keep your dads from killing each other until you were ready to come out of your room. 

Wait, dads? Plural?

Now it all came crashing back to you. How you'd been about to go book shopping with Vox, how your father had shown up, how they'd fought over you, and how you'd eventually had enough; storming off to your room to cry until you fell asleep. 

You weren't sure you ever wanted to leave this room now that you recalled the full extent of what had happened, but you also knew Vox would never allow you to rot away over this. 

With a sigh, you pushed yourself out of bed and went into the bathroom that was connected to your room to clean yourself up. When you'd checked the time, you'd found that there was only an hour before your reader's segment was scheduled, meaning you had to pull yourself together anyway. Another text came from Velvette now, saying Valentino was coming up to check on you since you hadn't answered her all day. Great. 

After washing your face and changing your clothes, you exited the bathroom. The second you opened your bedroom door, you were met with the sight of Valentino, holding a fist up as if he'd been about to knock. He retracted his hand now, a smile spreading across his face. 

"There you are, little one!" He exclaimed, stepping out of the way as you closed the door to your room behind you. "I brought tissues." He held up a box of tissues, but it did little to comfort you.

"Thanks, Val." You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You'd never been particularly close with the moth sinner, even after living in the V's tower for the last seven years. With his line of work and reputation, you tended to stay clear of him, and Vox had never pushed you to do otherwise. In fact, you suspected he was secretly glad for it after he'd become so protective of you over time. 

"Where are Vox and my dad?" You asked, though, calling Alastor your dad felt like a bit of a stretch at this point. He was closer to an estranged relative you hadn't seen in years than anything. 

"Velvette has them waiting downstairs." Valentino replied with a shrug, letting out a puff from his cigarette. Nevermind that he wasn't supposed to smoke on this floor. 

"And they haven't killed each other yet? That's impressive." You said with a sigh, heading for the elevator now, rather than putting the confrontation off any longer. 

"She has a way with these things." Val shrugged, stepping into the space with you. You suspected Velvette's 'way' came from lots of practice she'd gotten handling his and Vox's disagreements, but you didn't bring that up. Instead, you awkwardly and nervously waited for the elevator to reach your desired floor, rocking back and forth on your feet. What would happen when you arrived? Would Vox and Alastor start fighting again? You were sure Velvette would get between them if they did, but it wouldn't make things any easier for you in the long run.

They were going to want you to choose.

The doors opened now and you took a deep breath before stepping out. "Good luck~" Valentino sang before pressing the button to close them behind you. No going back now.

You turned, seeing a familiar lounge area to your right. After all, this was the floor where your studio was located, so you'd been here plenty of times before. You never used this area, though; reserving it for whoever might need to wait outside as you did your segment. 

There were two couches set up so that they made a sort of 'L' shape. Alastor sat on the one that faced in your direction; his legs crossed and a teacup in his hand as if he had not a care in the world. Music faintly played from his microphone, which rested against the couch next to him. Meanwhile, Vox sat hunched over on the other couch, as far away from the Radio Demon as possible as he attempted to avoid contact with him. 

And finally, Velvette was in a chair facing them both like a teacher supervising detention. She had her phone in hand but looked up when she heard you approaching. 

"There you are," she exclaimed, setting her phone down. Vox shot up from his seat and Alastor's teacup disappeared into thin air as he calmly stood too. You could tell they both wanted to come over to you but Velvette shot them a warning look. You weren't sure how she'd managed to get both Vox and Alastor to listen to her like this, but you were grateful for it. 

"Hey..." You said awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Vox was the first to reply. 

"How are you feeling, kid?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned. You shrugged. 

"I don't know." It was all you could say, "But it's almost time for my segment, isn't it?" At this, the tech demon stiffened. 

"You don't have to do it today, you know." He told you, "We could just rerun an old one; no one would mind." You could tell Alastor preferred the idea too, considering he likely didn't approve of you being on TV in the first place, but you shook your head. 

"I think it would be good for me." You admitted, "Help me calm down." Vox nodded at that. 

"Alright." He sighed, "but if you're not feeling up for it, we can cancel any time. Just signal me." You nodded, feeling a small smile appear on your face. 

"Okay." 

"In that case, would you mind if I tag along?" Alastor asked, looking to you and no one else for permission, "I'd love to see what my little one has been up lately." You tensed.

Technically, the reader segment wasn't all that different from what you'd done before. When you both were alive, he would sometimes have you on his radio show in the evenings, where you would do exactly that; read your favorite books to the listeners at home. Everyone thought it was adorable, even if your features weren't very consistent at the time.

After you'd both ended up in hell, that had continued. You and Alastor were always close; after all, he'd been the only family you had for most of your life and afterlife. So when he kept up his radio show, you kept appearing on it to read your stories as a way of bonding more with your father. Plus, you could tell he reveled in the confusion your appearances brought; one moment he would be broadcasting the screams of those he tortured for all to hear, and then the next his child would be reading bedtime stories. It kept everyone on their toes, just the way he liked it. 

You weren't sure how Alastor would react to finding out you'd continued that same tradition on TV; the very thing he hated. Though, considering who your father was, he likely already knew. He had a way of finding out things like that. 

"I guess that's okay..." You decided after a moment, making Alastor's smile widen even more, "We have a lot of lost time to catch up on, anyway." The comment was meant to make him feel guilty but it seemed to bounce right off him instead.

"I couldn't agree more, darling!" He exclaimed, "Then, lead the way! I'd love to see your studio." You couldn't help feeling a little more nervous now but motioned for him to follow you towards the door anyway. Vox, however, wasn't giving up just yet. 

"I'll come too." He decided, crossing his arms over his chest. "In case we need to cancel the segment suddenly." He knew you weren't going to back out at the last minute like that but it didn't matter; the excuse gave him a reason to follow both you and Alastor to your recording studio.

There you gave the Radio Demon a brief tour before taking your place on the plush pink couch and letting Vox's makeup team give you a final check-over.

Another couch was brought in for Vox and Alastor to sit on as they watched you record your segment; each of them sitting as far away from the other on the thing as they possibly could. Finally, the cameraman cued you in, and you bit back your nervousness as you began reading; picking up where you'd left off in the book. 

The whole time you did your segment, you were extremely aware of the two extra pairs of eyes watching you. Vox, while still being extremely cautious of Alastor and glancing at him every so often, practically beamed with pride as he listened to you read. Alastor's eye kept twitching, likely in annoyance that you'd replaced yet another thing you used to do with him with Vox, but his smile still had genuine elements to it as he watched you.

Finally, you finished off the reader segment and the cameraman signaled to you that you were good to go. Once again feeling tired from the segment, but not as much so as you'd been the night before, you wrapped the lilac blanket around yourself and went over to where Vox and Alastor were sitting.

"Well done as always, kid." Vox grinned, patting your head. The Radio Demon's eyes narrowed at the sight and he cleared his throat.

"Yes, it was a wonderful performance, indeed." He added, "Though, I must admit a show of such format may have been better over radio." He'd considered corrupting the footage so Vox wouldn't be able to use it, but since this seemed to mean so much to you for whatever reason, decided to inconvenience him some other way later. 

You couldn't argue with the comment. After all, the idea had initially started in a radio format. You could, however, try again to make him feel guilty for leaving you.

"Yeah, well, I didn't really have access to a radio broadcast for the last seven years," you replied, "So Vox offered to give me a TV show instead." The tech demon beamed as Alastor came close to a scowl, or what would have been a scowl, if not for his permanent smile. 

There was nothing but silence after that. If not for the shuffling of your cameraman packing things up, you could have heard a pin drop. Feeling uncomfortable, you tugged the purple blanket more tightly around your shoulders. You knew the three of you needed to talk about things, but you still weren't sure where you even stood in the situation to be able to do so. 

"Are you tired?" Vox finally asked, "You can go up to your room and sleep if you want. We can always go shopping another day."

"I wouldn't be so sure." Alastor cut in, standing from the couch now, "They're still my child, so there's no need for them to live here anymore." He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "I appreciate you looking out for them in my absence, but now that I've returned, there's no need for you to be involved in their life any longer." Something seemed to snap in Vox at that and he shot up.

"Oh, no you don't!" He exclaimed, walking over and pointing a finger at the Radio Demon, "You're not taking them. You may have been their father, but you've been gone seven years. You have no claim to them anymore." 

You were afraid to speak up, unsure of what you would say. You didn't even know what you wanted anymore. 

"You've no more right to them than I do," Alastor shot back, glaring at Vox through his smile, "Who are you to tell me where I can or cannot take my child? Even if you think you've adopted them, I see no legal documents to prove it."

"Am I even your child anymore?" You asked suddenly, before you could stop yourself. Both overlords froze as you pushed Alastor's hand off your shoulders and took a step back. 

"Of course, my dear." Your father replied, taking a step towards you, only for you to back away more, "Nothing so fleeting as time could ever change that." Something in you told you he really believed that, and that was the worst part.

"Can't it?" You asked, feeling tears begin to well up in your eyes. You weren't ready to have this conversation, even after so long. "I thought you'd abandoned me. I thought you didn't want me anymore." Before he could reply, you turned and started walking away, pushing open the door to your studio as you wiped at your eyes. Alastor, however, went after you. 

You paused when he called out your name; already halfway to the elevator. "You didn't know that when I left you on your own, I made a deal I wouldn't condone." You were frozen in shock. Alastor make a deal? "And in the end, I had to leave you all alone," this time you didn't flinch as he came forward, placing a hand on your head, "Now you're the only thing worth fighting for." 

Your mouth went dry. For years, all you'd wanted was to know your dad really did care, but somehow, it didn't bring you as much comfort as you'd expected. 

"Despite everything," he went on, taking one of your hands from under the blanket you still had pulled around you, "Despite everything, I want to be there for you despite everything!" 

"But you didn't even tell me where you'd gone," You said softly.

"If I could have, I would," Alastor replied, "It was the only way to keep you out of it." You frowned, pulling your hand out of his. 

"Papa," you began, feeling a bit of comfort from the reassuring nod Vox gave you behind him, "When I was young, I always thought you stood so tall." You looked down, recalling the days when he'd let you sit on his lap as a child while he recorded his radio broadcasts, "It made me feel so small," you went on, "But you assured me that I was worth it all." You could recall countless nights in life when your father had made that very promise, but it felt as if it meant nothing now. 

"You said you would never leave me," you recalled, "That we were family." A tear slid down your face but you pushed it away, "And yet you left with no warning!" Vox placed a hand on your shoulder, which only seemed to make Alastor more irritated, but he listened as you went on. "So in the end, when I thought I had lost you," you took a deep breath, "They showed me I could have a family once more!" 

Vox smiled softly at you, encouraging you to go on. "Despite everything," you sang, echoing Alastor, "Despite everything, I wish I could believe you despite everything!" 

You turned to walk away, ready to be escorted by the tech demon, only for Alastor to speak up once again. "I've never forgot you all this time."

"Neither could I," you replied, not liking what he was insinuating, "How ever would I?"

"Seems I'll have to make up for this crime," he decided, finally giving up on trying to explain what he'd done. Nothing would ever excuse his leaving you; he knew that. 

"It'll take a while," you admitted, though a tiny grin tugged at your lips that didn't go unnoticed by the Radio Demon.

"I've missed that smile!" He said, taking your hands. You just wanted to feel like a family again; the way you had before his disappearance. And though it would take time, that might be able to come true if he could prove he'd never leave again. 

"All that I'm hopin' now that my eyes are open," The two of your chorused, "Is that we can start again; not be pulled apart again!" 

Vox wasn't sure who'd given you both the lyrics to this impromptu song and not told him, but even he had to admit the scene in front of him was quite sweet as he watched you and Alastor finally hug.

"Cause in the end, you are part of who I am!" You both sang.

"I'll be there for you even if he must too!" Alastor told you, pointing microphone towards Vox with only a slightly disgusted expression on his face. 

"Though, this is overdue," you added before letting your dad join back in.

"Despite everything!" He waved his cane, changing the lighting of the room so that it felt warmer.

"Despite everything!" You repeated, now watching as some of the furniture shifted so that it resembled the living room of your house when you were alive. it seemed Alastor was already adding a personal touch to this place if he was going to be around more because of you.

"Despite everything!"

"Despite everything!" You sang, "You're meant to be my father, despite everything!" You glanced at Vox, who only nodded at you with both pride and pain in his eyes. 

"Despite everything..." Both you and Alastor finished as you hugged him again, wishing he'd never disappeared in the first place but so glad he'd returned anyway. 

Finally, you pulled away from the embrace and looked up at the Radio Demon. "Alright," you said, "...We can try to fix things, but it's going to take time." You glanced back at the tech demon, who quickly came over to support you. "And for now, I want to keep staying here with the V's. While you were gone, Vox was the only father figure I had." 

Alastor's eye twitched at that but he slowly nodded, ignoring the look of victory his old friend was wearing. "I suppose I can agree to that." He decided at last, "Though, I hope eventually there will come a day when you only need the one father." He was referring to himself, making Vox's eyes narrow. 

"And I hope one day I won't have to be afraid of you leaving out of nowhere." You replied carefully before sighing, "But it's a start."

Right, Alastor nodded, a start. It would hardly be enough for him in the long run, but for now, he supposed he could tolerate the tech demon's presence around you. 

……….

Tags for those who requested them: @avitute

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Space Between Us

Prompt: I’m so glad you’re back! Can you write something where the reader & Luke are in an argument? Maybe he’s struggling when he gets back from Afghanistan or something? Idk you can be creative with the rest :) Thank you!

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: PTSD symptoms mentioned

A/N: thanks for the request, enjoy! 

You’re in the midst of scrubbing a dish clean when you see the headlights of Luke’s truck pull in the driveway. 

He cuts the ignition. The sun is long gone, set beyond the hills in the distance, so when the door opens and closes with a thud, you can’t get a good look at him. Suddenly, you realize how torn you are between being relieved that he’s finally home and still so angry at him for leaving in the first place. 

The fight you’d had a earlier had been a bad one– probably the biggest you’ve ever had. And Luke looks… God, he looks so tired as he walks across the driveway, his silhouette illuminated by the porch light you’d left on. His head is hanging low, his feet trudging along the steps towards the front door. Under normal circumstances, you would greet him there– throw your arms around him the second he walked inside and bury your face in his neck. But tonight you can’t– because these aren’t normal circumstances. 

Instead, as soon as he steps through the door, you set the dish down and turn to face him. 

“Hi baby,” he murmurs. The pet name he uses makes you cling to the small sliver of hope that maybe things will be okay. 

But still, your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Hi.”

“How has your day been?” he attempts. 

But you shake your head. “Luke, I really can’t fake pleasantries tonight.”

He scrubs his face with his hand and sighs, like he can’t wait to be done with this entire situation– the fighting, the chaos, you. As unbearable of a thought it is, you can’t help but glance at it in the horizon. What if that’s what’s happening here? What if he’s sick of you? What if his feelings for you had changed since he’d been away?

It’s a possibility– no matter how badly you don’t want it to be. 

“Listen, I’m just so tired–” He sounds defeated… empty. 

“And you think I’m not?” You challenge. 

He shifts before gripping his neck with his hand, still hovering near the door, not daring to move closer. It’s as if he’s already distancing himself from you… As if he’s done. 

“Well if we’re both tired, this probably won’t be a very productive conversation. Why don’t we just pick this back up after we’ve gotten some rest?”

You dig your nails into your palms, a distraction from the pain in your chest. He doesn’t get it– this anxiety that’s been making a home inside your chest. No matter how hard you push and plead. And you don’t know what else to say to make him get it. 

“How am I supposed to know you’d still be here by tomorrow?” 

His jaw tenses. 

“That’s a pretty fair possibility considering the shit you pulled today.”

Luke sighs. “I know I did and I’m–”

“You stormed out,” you say, taking a step forward so that you can grip the island counter. “You left.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you know you need to let him talk. You know he deserves a chance to say his piece. But you’re still just so angry… you’re consumed by it. So you continue. 

“What if I had done that to you?” You ask. “What if I had been the one to take off and then just… not come home for over twelve hours?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. 

“You’d be pretty worried, huh? Maybe a little mad…”

“Baby–”

“No, you’d be fucking pissed, Luke! I know you would. So why is it okay for you to do that to me? Why is it okay to take off and not answer any of my calls or texts?”

The pained look on his face tells you everything you need to know– that you’re right. 

“You say you have dreams– nightmares where you can’t find me,” you say, using the things he’s told you to prove your point– digging where you know it’ll hurt, because you’re just so fucking angry, and you need him to understand. “That was my reality today, Luke. You put me through your literal fucking nightmare.”

“Please don’t,” he mumbles, his head hanging low.

“I was so worried. I- I didn’t know where you were,” your voice breaks. I didn’t know if you’d ever come back– is what you don’t say… what you’re too afraid to say. 

When Luke got back from Afghanistan, that was supposed to be it. You were supposed to be through with the distance, through with the heartache, through with being terrified that every time the phone rang, it was someone telling you he was dead. 

But although he was discharged almost three months ago now– it doesn’t feel like it. Instead it feels like walking on eggshells and waiting for the other shoe to drop. And while you want to play it off as just an adjustment period and some misunderstandings, it’s starting to feel bigger than that. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice still empty-sounding. “I didn’t want to make you worry.”

“To make me worry?” 

“I was going to call,” he explains, “But my phone died. And I– I needed some space.”

“Some space?” You gawk. “Are you kidding me? You needed space?”

He nods, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours. 

“Luke, you’ve been gone for three years. All you’ve had is space– all I’ve given you since you’ve been back is fucking space– I have waited and waited for you to come home from the army. I counted down the years, the months, the days– I lived on letters and shitty phone calls where I could barely even hear you because of the horrible reception. And now… you’re out, you’re home. You’re finally here, except you’re not. You never fucking came back from Afghanistan, Luke. You haven’t even given me a chance to not give you space because you’re not fucking here.”

There’s an eerie silence, a dramatic, drawn out pause that only seems to magnify the space between you. 

“That’s not fair,” he says. 

“Not fair? You really want to talk not fair, Luke? What’s not fair is leaving in the middle of an argument and not coming home all day. What’s not fair is not calling or texting or giving me some shred of fucking evidence that you were alright. I mean, do you understand how fucking worried I was? Do you even care?”

“Of course I fucking care– I just… I needed to–”

“Needed to what?” You snap, your voice raising as your arms flail in the air. “To take off? To leave?”

“I don’t–” Luke stammers, sounding so defeated. “I don’t know.”

Another beat of eerie silence settles between you. After only a moment, you can’t take it anymore. So, you ask the question you’ve been terrified to know the answer to. “Are you going back?”

His head snaps up, like he’s surprised you even asked. 

“Th-this is all my fault. Fuck, I should never have let this get—” he stammers. 

“Don’t,” you say, your voice louder than you thought it could be at your current state. “Just don’t, Luke.”

But he continues. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he tells you, and you have to swipe the tear sliding down your cheek before he can see. “I just…”

“Just tell me, are you going back?” you say, harsher than you intended. 

“No,” he shakes his head, adamant. Finally he looks at you. You hoped that would’ve given you some sort of comfort, but it doesn’t. Instead, you see pleading eyes, usually so warm you want to sunbathe in them, so familiar that you want to curl up and call them home. But tonight they’re neither warm nor familiar. 

“Then what is it? What the hell is going on?” you say. 

“I don’t know what to do, but I can’t keep— I can’t keep…” 

“Just tell me,” you plead, voice rising. Because you can’t stand this. “Please, just fucking tell me. Luke, I’m begging–”

“I can’t do this,” he finally spits out. “I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t.”

And there it is. 

The nail in the coffin. 

The final straw.  

Your worst nightmare.

“Right,” you exhale the rest of the air in your lungs. Before you burst into a sobbing mess in front of him, you give Luke a short nod and turn away. 

“Wait–” you hear him call. 

“It’s fine, Luke,” you say over your shoulder without looking at him. “Like you said earlier, we’re both tired.”

“Wait, wait,” he follows you up the stairs, but you were too far ahead of him.

“Just forget it–” you say, voice choking with tears. 

“Baby– stop, please–” he gets out just as you slam the door to the bedroom shut.

You stifle your sob in the sleeve of your sweater, back pressed against the door for a moment while you try to collect yourself. Then you walk to the bed and collapse on the mattress in a heap. As you curl up, clutching Luke’s pillow like it’s your lifeline, you try desperately to breathe between sobs. And then, even though you know he won’t, you hope with everything inside of you that he comes after you. 

…

You can’t sleep. Whenever you try, you just feel like you hear sounds of him leaving again– the screen door snapping shut, the zipper of his bag, the fear and anxiety only intensifying as the hours wear on.

All you have is silence and your thoughts.

I can’t do this, he had said. His direct words. 

You bury your face in his pillow as you try to hold back more tears, wondering if you’re imagining the way his scent is starting to fade from the fabric. How could you miss someone living under the same roof as you?

You roll onto your back again as you stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan whirl around and around steadily. 

“Fuck,” you mutter as you sit up. You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes frustratedly before turning the lamp on. Was Luke even home? Or had he taken off again? You hate that you even have to wonder. How can things have gone so wrong so fast? 

As soon as the doubt creeps into your mind, you know it’s there to stay– at least until you can see for yourself whether or not Luke is still home. So, you swing your legs over the bed and head for the door. Except as soon as you swing it open and step forward into the hall, your feet collide with something– and before you know it, you’re crashing to the floor with a hard thud. 

All the air is sucked from your lungs as your stomach collides with the carpet beneath you. 

“Fuck, are you okay?” Luke’s familiar voice hovers above you. 

And while you don’t really have the oxygen in your lungs to answer his question, when you turn your head and open your eyes, you can see the faint outline of his features from the lamp you’d turned on in the bedroom. His eyebrows are scrunched together– like they’re concerned, and his mouth is slightly agape. 

“Baby, are you okay?” Luke repeats, his hand hovering on the outside of your hips. 

“No–” you stammer, flipping so that you’re lying on your back. You barely choke out the single word before you’re bursting into unfiltered tears– the blubbery kind, where you can barely breathe in between sobs. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding panicked. He shifts, scooching forward so that he’s closer to you, but he still doesn't dare to touch you. “What hurts, baby?” 

All you can manage to do is shake your head before you move to cover your face with your hands– a feeble attempt at hiding from him. Like that would make any difference. At one point, you feel his fingers ghost along the fabric of your sleeve, trying to tug your hands from your face. 

“Look at me, baby,” he begs. But you just shake your head harder, resisting his pleas. 

“C’mon, I just want to know if you’re–” 

But he doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before you break. Flinging your arms down, you shout, “No I’m not fucking okay! Nothing about this is okay!” 

He flinches back, arms dropping to his side. Instantly, another wave of tears well up in your eyes, choking out before you can stop them. And suddenly, you’re crying so hard you can barely breathe. You’re a mess– all blubbery and pathetic in front of him. But you don’t even have the energy to care anymore. 

“Just breathe, baby. Breathe,” he says. He moves like he’s going to reach for you– and you let yourself get your hopes up in that fraction of a second. But then he drops his arm back down and frowns, like he’s caught himself doing something he isn’t supposed to. The space between you now only makes you cry harder, gasping for air in between sobs. He’s right beside you, but in some ways, he feels even further than when he was across the ocean. 

“I’m sorry I tripped you.”

You shake your head. “I’m– I’m not crying because you tripped me,” you bellow. Before you can see the questioning look on his face, you continue. “What–” you try to say, but your voice is too choppy. “What… are… you even–” you stammer harder. “What are you even doing out here? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry–” Luke repeats. “I didn’t want to sleep on the couch– I wanted… I wanted to make sure you were okay, I wanted to be there if you needed anything.”

You pause, realization washing over you. 

Luke was here–

Outside the bedroom door.

Sleeping on the floor like a goddamn golden retriever. 

But why? After everything he’d said– and the way he’d acted earlier? 

“You dumbass,” you snap, finally sitting up from the carpet. “I did need you. Why don’t you get that? Why don’t you understand that I fucking need you? That I’ll always need you!”

“I–” he stammers. “I don’t– I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“Well guess what? You leaving upsets me! You sleeping in the hallway instead of in our bed upsets me! You not wanting me anymore upsets me!”

“Wait– what? Not wanting you?” he says, his tone disbelieving.  

“Not being able to do this anymore– or whatever you said. Guess what, Luke? That’s upsetting!”

“I didn't mean it like that–” he says quickly, his eyes downcast as he seems to try to think if he really had worded things that way. “I– Fuck, I just– I just meant I couldn’t fucking handle… I couldn’t handle things–. I couldn’t deal with this… this feeling inside of me since I’ve been back from the army– I didn’t mean you– God, baby it was never you–”

“But–” you whisper, shaking your head. “You said–”

“I don’t remember what I said–” Luke explains. “I bet it was fucking stupid– I’ve been so overwhelmed and frustrated at myself. I don’t know what I said, but I promise I didn’t mean it like that, baby.”

You close your eyes at his answer, everything clicking into place. Is it possible that this was just all one giant misunderstanding? Did Luke still want to be with you?

“I thought…” you stammered, your voice next to nothing. “I thought you were done with me. You said you were done.” 

More tears escape down your cheeks and you duck your face to hide from him once again. 

“No– no. God, I’m so sorry… I can’t,” he says, his voice low and tired. “I just don’t feel like myself since I’ve been home. I don’t know what to do and I’m always on edge… I can’t breathe half the time. But I swear it’s not you–” he swallows and takes a moment to compose himself. 

“Then what is it?” You plead. “Why can’t you stand being home with me? Why aren’t I enough?”

God, you sound pathetic– but after the emotional roller coaster Luke had put you through these last few months, you really couldn’t help it. 

“I don’t know what it is–” he admits. “I wish I did, but I don’t. But please trust me, baby girl, you are enough. You’re more than enough. I mean, you are the only thing that makes me even feel alive anymore. I can’t believe you haven’t gotten sick of me– I don’t know how you’ve put up with this for so long.”

He lets out a loud huff when you launch yourself into his lap– completely erasing the distance between you two on the floor once and for all. Before he knows what’s happening, you’re winding your arms around his neck and burrowing your face in the crook of his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. He hesitates, but only for a moment, before his arms are securely wrapping around your waist, anchoring you to him. He buries his face in your hair, breathing you in. 

“Because I love you, you idiot,” you sniffle. 

He squeezes you tighter, holding you to him like he’s scared you’ll disappear. You know the feeling, all too well. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he whispers into your hair. “I- I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything sets me on edge– every noise, every thought. 

When you pull back, your heart aches as soon as you see tears glistening in Luke’s eyes. You cup the outside of his face, your thumb trailing up and down his cheek. “We can figure it out,” you promise. “We’ll get you to see someone– a doctor or a therapist, or someone that can help. We’ll figure it out.”

He nods like he actually believes you. 

“I know you’re tired,” you say, shifting to move from his lap. “Let’s just go to bed, okay? We can figure the rest out in the morning.”

He nods and lets you tug him to his feet. You cling to his hand as you walk towards the bedroom, afraid that if you let him go, he’ll disappear again. 

“I can take the couch,” he says softly, making you halt in place. You turn to face him almost instantly. 

“What?” You shake your head, brow instantly furrowing. “No–” Instantly, you feel your anxiety creeping up again. 

“I just– I can take the couch if you want space.”

“No, Luke. I don’t want space. Do you want space?”

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good,” you say. “Then stay with me. Please.” 

He nods, while you walk him the rest of the way to your bed. He waits for you to crawl to your side closest to the wall before he slides under the sheets beside you. He looks stiff– awkward when he first lays down, but you don’t give him long before you’re scooting into his side, resting your head on his chest. 

“Thanks, for being patient with me,” he mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll figure this out,” you say. “I love you.”

He gathers the hand you have resting on his chest in his own, lacing your fingers together and giving it a tight squeeze. “I love you, too.”

You exhale, noticing that even breathing feels easier with him beside you. 

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-six

*gif created by me(thefallennightmare) feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: Possibly the last one for tonight but we'll see!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday

Things were different; weird.

It's been a few days since our time at the Airbnb and Noah's barely acknowledged what happened between us. And instead of avoiding me, he was always there. Before when I entered a room, he would find some excuse to leave, me doing the same. Now when I walk into a room or place he was in, he watches me with intense eyes. Not that I was complaining if I was being honest. But what happened between us still didn't excuse his previous attitude towards me. I'd done nothing to deserve his cold shoulder, and I planned to make sure he knew that if we continued this.

No, I rapidly shook my head. That was a one-time thing.

With a sigh, I kept my attention on finishing setting up the merch booth while the guys were on stage for a sound check. I bobbed my head along to the beat Folio smashed on his guitars, the opening to Artificial Suicide echoing loudly in the empty space. Thankfully, this venue had space for me to set up the booth in the main area so I could watch the show tonight.

As confusing as our relationship, if you could call it that, was. I still loved watching Bad Omens. They were electrifying on stage.

When Noah's voice came through the speakers, I cringed and turned on my heels to watch. He cleared his throat, the music halting before he threw his thumb in a circle showing that they started it from the top. They did and the same thing happened; Noah's voice cracked and sounded as if he was losing it.

"How does it sound, Y/N?" He asked into the microphone.

I walked closer to the stage with my face screwed up so I didn't have to yell. "Do you want the truth?"

"I wouldn't expect anything else from you."

That made me chuckle but then let out a deep sigh.

"You sound like shit, Noah. What's going on?" I stuck my hands in the back pockets of my jeans and put all of my weight on my left foot, cocking a hip out.

Noah sighed while handing the microphone to one stagehand before sitting on the edge of the stage, his long legs dangling off. I was a few feet in front of him and ignored the way my brain screamed at me to slink between them.

"I woke up this morning with a sore throat and thought it'd get better by now," he ran a hand through his hair.

Matt sighed next to me; stress clear on his face. "We've got about six hours until your set. Why don't you rest your voice until then. We can cover the rest of the sound check without you."

"You sure?"

Nick clasped a hand on Noah's shoulder and nodded. "We got it."

While they all conversed about what to do, an idea sprung to mind and I pulled out my phone to look up the nearest coffee shop. Thinking no one noticed, I slipped away from them while sending a text to Davis, who was still at the hotel, to see if he could finish setting up for me.

"Where are you going?"

Turning around, I noticed Noah followed me. I gave him a stern look, him already forgetting Matt's orders not to talk.

"You're not supposed to talk," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes then whipped out his phone and typed something on his notes app before showing me; he asked again where I was going.

"I was going to get you a tea to help soothe your throat," I said, suddenly nervous that the gesture might have seemed too much coming from me.

Noah's mouth curved into a smile and motioned for me to follow, him clearly coming with me.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? There's a line outside, you're bound to be seen."

I'm sure he knew that but I wasn't worried someone would see him alone. I was worried he'd be seen with me. After almost a year working for Bad Omens, I'd done a pretty good job and not to be seen with them out in public. Of course, in group settings, it was harder, with fans snapping pictures of us when we walked around the town, we were sightseeing. But now, alone with Noah, I couldn't fathom what people would say if they saw the two of us. Fans knew I was the merch girl so maybe they'd think we were just grabbing coffee for everyone else.

That's exactly what you're doing. No need to overthink things.

Noah led us out the back where fans weren't allowed and when I told him where the shop was, we began walking in stride there. We didn't speak, the silence something we were used to between us, but every once in a while, our hands would brush together. A spark of heat and electricity shot through me every time. Something I knew Noah felt as well because, at one point, his fingers brushed against the inside of my wrist, on purpose.

As the shop came into view, we noticed there was a small group of people hanging around outside; all wearing Bad Omens merch. The two of us came to a halt, and I peered up at Noah, seeing what he wanted to do. He shrugged before typing something on his phone and showing me the screen.

Can't hurt to talk for a few minutes, right?

I narrowed my eyes at him, debating whether this was a good idea.

"If I get any flak from Matt because I let you talk and your voice gets worse, I'll kick your ass," I pointed at him.

Something dark flashed across Noah's eyes and he licked his lips, typing a new message.

Sounds like a deal, angel.

Ignoring the way my insides burned at the pet name, I told him I would be right back while he socialized with the fans. As I stepped inside, the group of fans started muttering under their breath that 'the Noah Sebastian' was standing right in front of them. The wait for the tea wasn't that long and as I waited, my eyes dared a glance outside to see Noah finishing up taking some pictures with the fans. As if he felt me staring, his eyes locked with mine and gave a small wave.

An action one fan noticed then followed Noah's gaze, landing right on me.

With a start, I turned back to the counter when my name was called and took the tea with a smile. By the time I made it back outside, Noah was alone, leaning up against the wall of the building.

I handed him the tea. "I don't think it will cure you completely but maybe enough for tonight's show."

Noah nodded his thanks and soon we began the short walk back to the venue, in silence. Thankfully, he was not speaking to save his voice because I wasn't sure what we would talk about. Clearly, we were supposed to think what happened that night didn't, and I was glad to do that.

Was I?

I couldn't dwell on the question for long because my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting it to be Matt wondering where I ran off to with the vocalist, it surprised me to see my mom calling. She never called me on her phone. When we did talk, which was rare nowadays, it was when Lana called me.

With a soft hand on Noah's forearm, I pulled him to a stop.

"Give me a minute?" I asked.

He nodded, so I took a few steps away to give myself some privacy.

"Mom?" I asked once I answered.

"Yes, I'd like to report a break in."

My heart rate intensified hearing her calm, eerie voice. It wasn't anything I'd heard before which made me wonder what the fuck was going on.

"Mom, it's me. Y/N. What's going on?"

"There's a lady in my house trying to give me medication. I told her I don't need it but she said it'll help me."

I pinched my eyes shut while letting out a shaky breath. I could practically feel Noah's eyes gazing at me but ignored him; right now, my mom needed me.

"Mom, that's Lana. Your nurse," I spoke low into the phone so Noah couldn't hear me. "We've been through this, it will help you."

"NO! She said it will make me go to sleep. I don't want that."

I bit my lip, trying not to break down. It had been a good couple of days for both my mom and I, now everything was slowly turning to shit once again.

"Just take it, alright? For me?" I begged.

"Who are you?"

It wasn't the first time she questioned who I was but every time; it chipped away at my heart. Having your own mother forget who you were was a different kind of pain. There was some rustling on the other end, a struggle almost as I heard Lana grunting and my mom yelling obscenities to her. For a split second, I almost told Noah I had to leave but when Lana's calm voice came through the speaker, it erased that thought from my mind.

"Hi dear," she breathed into the phone. "How are things?"

I scoffed. "Really? That's how you answer the phone? What the fuck is going on?"

"I promise its nothing-."

"I swear to the Gods, Lana if you say its nothing you can't handle I'm going to fucking loose it," I spat through gritted teeth.

Every single phone call, Lana would tell me her version of the day but end it with 'nothing she couldn't handle'. I was tired of hearing it; I demanded to know the truth.

By now, Noah had come around to face me, a wondering spark in his eyes.

"Everything alright?" He mouthed.

I nodded with a sigh before turning slightly away from him.

"It's been a terrible day, dear. Your mother is getting worse, and she really needs to go to a facility where they're better equipt to handle this."

Tears burned in my eyes, and I hastily wiped them away with the back of my hand. This was not a conversation I would have with Lana over the phone.

"I know," I spoke out in a deep breath. "I have a few more weeks left and when I'm home, we can talk about it."

There was a long beat of silence on the other end that I almost checked to see if Lana hung up.

"I really hate bothering you, Y/N. You deserve this time away because of how tired you were from taking care of your mother. You're too young to deal with this on your own."

My heart warmed at Lana's words, and finally, a lone tear rolled over my cheek. Noah reached out with his thumb to brush it away and I instinctively leaned into it, not realizing how badly I needed it.

"I have to go. Whatever happens, no matter the time, please call me."

"Of course, dear."

I stared blankly at the black screen, replaying everything that happened and knowing that eventually I'd have to decide. I kept my mom at home because I thought she would remember things easier, all the memories we made but maybe it was only making things worse for her. I knew I was being selfish letting Lana deal with everything on her own while I was hundreds of miles away living my life.

Would she even let me back to help? She already told me I didn't deserve to deal with it on my own.

"Hey," Noah cupped my cheek. "What's going on?"

His voice was quiet so he wouldn't strain it.

I sniffled while refusing to meet his gaze. Even if he heard the conversation, I wasn't ready to talk about my mom yet; if ever.

"I don't want to talk about it," I shook my head in his grasp. "Please."

His thumb lifted my chin so I had no choice but to look at him as his eyes darted back and forth between mine as if he was searching for something. Eventually, he nodded but kept his grip on my face.

"Alright, but I'm here if you change your mind," he assured me.

"Why? What's different now?"

The question tumbled out of my mouth before I could even stop it. Noah let out a deep sigh before stepping away from me and letting his hand fall from my face.

"I-It's hard to explain."

I chuckled darkly and extended my hands to the side, a silent way of telling him I had the time to listen. But Noah said nothing, only gripped his tea tighter in one hand while the other ran over his face.

"Forget it," I mumbled. "You shouldn't even be talking. Matt would kill me if you lost your voice because of me. Can we just head back to the venue?"

Reluctantly, Noah nodded, and with that, I turned my back to him as I walked away.

A quick yawn fell from my lips as I loaded the last box of merch into the truck. It was a very long night and with his vocal rest and tea, Noah was able to perform tonight; not how he usually does, but no one noticed. Since I had been incredibly busy all night, I didn't have time to think about my mom but now as I walked back inside the venue, I couldn't help but think of her.

Was I a terrible daughter for leaving her?

Would she ever forgive me?

Would she ever remember me?

All the doctors and specialists I spoke to said never to think of that question, it only made things worse in the end. You couldn't dwell on the what ifs or the bad with Alzheimers, you had to relish in the good times.

A warm body slide up to me as I was aimless walking the back halls of the venue and I saw Folio smiling at me.

"I'd figure you left," I said.

"We're all still here having drinks in the green room. We couldn't find you so I came looking," he explained.

I tossed a thumb over my shoulder. "I was packing up the truck."

"Well, I've got some bad news."

That made me pull him to a stop, worry etched deep into my bones. "What is it?"

"Some members of the crew wanted to get a head start to the next city and left already. They were going to ask you if you wanted to go with them but no one could find you. I told them to go ahead, and you'd ride with us. I already grabbed your things from their bus."

I didn't know how to feel. Obviously, I wasn't mad for being left behind and I was thankful Folio thought to grab my things. I did, however, feel apprehensive about being on the same bus as Noah. Now there was nowhere to run. At least at the venues, there was a decent amount of space between us. But the small confines of the tour bus, it was inevitable it would force us to be together. Our little trip to the coffee shop earlier proved that there was still tension between us.

It didn't help that neither of us talked about what happened at the Airbnb.

I gave Folio's hand a squeeze. "Thanks."

"Come on," Folio pulled me along to the green room.

A part of me wanted to fight, the thought of crawling into my bunk on the bus sounded better but I knew right now I needed a distraction. We walked through the door seeing Nick, Jolly, and Noah in the room.

"I feel as if this is a Bad Omens only meeting," I laughed towards Folio.

He simply ruffled my hair before sitting on the couch next to Nick.

Noah was standing in front of a mirror in the room trying to undo his ear in's but he couldn't quite reach so I walked up behind him and removed them for him.

"Thanks," he said while taking them from me.

All I did was nod and was ready to sit on the couch until his hand grasped my wrist, stopping me.

"How are you doing?" Noah asked.

When we came back to the venue earlier, he tried to ask one more time what happened on my phone call but I denied him again.

"I'm fine."

I didn't mean to be cold towards him but I was exhausted after a long day, the last thing I wanted was to be asked if I was alright. I just wanted to forget. So I sat next to Jolly on the couch and actually thought about it when he offered me a beer. I said I drank little, depending on the situation, but after the day I had; more so the year, I accepted the beer with a smile of thanks.

Noah sat on the couch across from me and gave me a look that screamed apprehension.

I took a pretty large drink before setting it on the table in front of me.

"Don't worry, Noah. I won't get drunk and make you carry me back to the bus," the tone in my voice was icy.

Guilt ate away at me because there was no need for me to sound like that but the last thing I needed right now was to be judge. Especially from Noah.

"It's not that," he hesitated, thinking if he should have continued and ultimately decided not too.

I, however, was in a feisty mood so I pressed on. "What is it then? You don't want me drinking on the job?"

"Or is it an embarrasment having me drunk around you guys? Is that why you're holding that night in Chicago over my head."

Noah had a pinched expression, and his shoulders were rigid with annoyance. His knee bounced widely before he abruptly sat up from the couch and walked to the other end of the room, clearly needing a moment to cool off.

I wanted to follow to continue giving him a piece of my mind but Nick held up a hand to stop me.

"Do you even remember what happened in Chicago that night, Y/N?"

"Barley. There was this married guy flirting with me all night and when I found that out, it hit me hard so I drank," I answered Nick.

It was Jolly who spoke next. "Noah found you outside with that guy as he was trying to force you into his car. He claimed the two of you were supposed to head back to your hotel room together."

My face paled realizing what exactly Jolly was saying.

"I definitely did not have plans to go back to my hotel room with him," I informed them.

"Noah knew, so he was able to get you away from that guy," Folio finished.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. That was the reason Noah held a grudge against me for that night. But that made little sense; if he saved me from whatever that asshole had planned, why did it make him so cold towards me?

"Why?" I asked while looking at him.

"You'd think I'd let you get into a car with some random asshole while you're drunk?" Noah snapped.

"No, of course not. But I don't understand why you're holding that night over my head. None of it was my fault," I defended.

Noah's jaw tightened. "I never said it was."

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. Seeing me almost put myself in danger made him so upset with me. I will be the first to admit, when I got drunk I didn't make the best choices. Hence why I decided against drinking all the time. It still didn't excuse the way he acted the way he did, but it explained why. Maybe now we could move past that night and enjoy the rest of the tour without the heated tension.

I stood to my feet and walked into his open embrace, wrapping my arms tightly around his back while laying my head against his chest.

"Thank you," I said softly.

Noah tensed for a moment before his own arms snaked around me, laying his chin on top of my head.

"You never have to thank me, angel."

[keisgirl]

not gonna put a title cuz i might delete this

some random thoughts 10pm (i have an essay due tmr)

the first sign was how quiet the apartment had become. once, it was filled with laughter, shared moments, and the kind of silence that was comfortable—warm, even. now, the quiet was different, tense and cold, like an empty stage after the audience has left. and in a way, that’s what your relationship had become—an empty performance, only the echoes of what once was.

you sit on the floor, back against the couch, your knees pulled to your chest. your phone lies face down on the coffee table, the buzzing stopped hours ago. it was easier that way, not looking at it, pretending for a moment that you could be okay without constantly waiting for a message that might never come. it’s been two days since you last heard from him. two days of silence that stretch on longer than any tour, longer than any distance he’s traveled for work.

he used to text you between rehearsals, sometimes sneaking in a call late at night when his members were asleep. you lived for those moments—the stolen seconds where it was just him and you, no cameras, no screaming fans, no demands. just him, the boy you fell in love with before the fame swallowed him whole. back when his smile was yours, not something for the world to claim.

but somewhere along the way, those calls became fewer, the messages shorter, until eventually they stopped altogether. now, you were lucky if he spared a moment to leave you a quick “i’m busy” before disappearing for days.

the door clicks open, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he's home. your eyes lift, your heart torn between relief and the sharp ache of knowing that even when he’s here, he’s not really here. his shoulders are slouched, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin, and he barely meets your gaze.

"hey," he mumbles, dropping his bag by the door.

"hey," you reply, but the word feels foreign on your tongue, like you're speaking to a stranger.

he moves past you, heading straight for the bedroom, his presence like a ghost passing through the space. no hug, no kiss, no acknowledgment that it’s been days since you’ve seen each other. once upon a time, he would have scooped you into his arms, kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in years, even if it had only been hours. but now, it’s like he’s too tired to care.

you follow him into the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as he collapses onto the bed, his back to you. the weight of the silence between you is unbearable. it’s not just physical distance anymore; it’s emotional. it’s the way he doesn’t ask how you are, doesn’t even notice the tear-stained pillowcases from the nights you spent crying yourself to sleep, wondering if this is what love is supposed to feel like—waiting, always waiting.

"are you okay?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if you speak too loudly, it’ll shatter whatever fragile connection remains between you.

"just tired," he mutters, not even turning to face you.

you nod, though he doesn’t see it. tired. he’s always tired now. tired from the schedules, the rehearsals, the interviews. tired from the weight of being an idol. and you wonder, how long before he’s tired of you too? or maybe that’s already happened.

"i don’t know how much longer i can do this," you say softly, more to yourself than to him, but he hears it.

his body tenses, and for a moment, you think he’s going to get up, going to say something that will make it all better. but he doesn’t. instead, he sighs, a long, drawn-out breath that feels like the beginning of the end.

"i’m trying, you know that," he says, his voice low, defeated.

"are you?" the words slip out before you can stop them, sharp and cutting in the quiet room. "because it doesn’t feel like it anymore. it feels like… like you’ve already given up."

he finally turns to face you, and for the first time in a long time, you see him—the boy behind the idol. and he looks lost, more lost than you’ve ever seen him. there’s pain in his eyes, but it’s different from yours. his pain isn’t from the distance or the silence. it’s from the guilt, the crushing weight of knowing he’s hurting you, but not knowing how to stop.

"i don’t know what to do," he admits, his voice breaking. "i don’t know how to make it better. everything’s moving so fast, and i… i don’t know how to keep up with it all."

"you don’t have to keep up with everything," you whisper, stepping closer, your hands trembling as you reach out to touch him, but you stop yourself before your fingers brush his skin. "you just have to be here. with me."

he closes his eyes, as if he can’t bear to look at you. "but i can’t. not the way you need me to be. and that’s the problem, isn’t it?"

you don’t answer. you don’t have to. because he’s right. it is the problem. you need him, and he’s slipping further and further away with each passing day, until you’re left holding onto memories that feel like they belong to someone else. the boy you fell in love with is still there, somewhere, but the world has taken so much from him, and now there’s barely anything left for you.

"maybe…" his voice cracks, and you feel your heart shatter at the sound of it. "maybe we’re both holding onto something that isn’t there anymore."

you shake your head, tears blurring your vision. "don’t say that. please."

he looks at you, eyes red and tired, and in that moment, you both know. this isn’t the end of the conversation, but it’s the beginning of something you’ve both been too afraid to face.

the truth is, love isn’t always enough. not when the world demands so much from him, and all you can do is stand on the sidelines, watching as he gives everything he has to everyone but you.

and for the first time, you wonder if maybe it’s time to stop waiting

--------

| andteam; koga yudai, nicholas wang, nakakita yuma

| enhypen; park jongseong, yang jungwon, park sunghoon

| boynextdoor; myung jaehyung, kim woonhak

| stray kids; han jisung, bang chan, hwang hyunjin

[byizoyas]

© byizoyas.

NSFW | spicy hcs where do they like to fuck you the most with ayato, scaramouche, zhongli

AYATO

› in his office

› it does not happen a lot in that place because his office is next to an open space and ayato is not fond of fucking next to other people. not that the kink does not suit him, but he wants to keep your moans to himself

› but fucking you on the desk he’s working on all day is something else and he definitely loves it

⸻

you had been texting ayato for a moment now but your texts were left unseen and it kinda pissed you off since you two were supposed to meet after work.

ayato had always been super busy and you knew it but still, you needed to see him sometimes and today was one of these times so you’ve decided to go to his work place.

the entire building was empty, in the dark. it was 11 pm and only your boyfriend was crazy enough to stay working at such a late hour.

you entered his office which was the only lightened place of the building and turned his chair to have him facing you.

you didn’t even say a word, instead only capturing his lips in a languid kiss. only kiss and heavy breathing noises could be heard right now.

‘do you want it that bad ?’ he asked, and the only choice of his words made you go insane.

you wanted him, here and now. no one was there anyway so you could do this, and it wouldn’t be the first time ayato railed you on his own desk. he thought about it quite often actually.

‘stop working. i want your attention.’ you commanded, taking off your shirt, revealing your naked chest.

ayato grinned, kneeling in front of you to take off your skirt, pulling it down slowly, while dropping kisses along your thighs to your dripping cunt.

and he suddenly got up, pushing you on the desk, and you were now laying on it half naked, while he, was still fully dressed up, only unzipping his pants to pull out his hard cock.

‘how do you want it ?’ ayato asked. his voice was so hot, you wanted him even more.

‘raw’ you said

‘mh that’s my girl’ he said, wrapping a hand around your throat while the other was busy helping himself coming inside of you, and after he shoved his whole length into your pussy, you let out a loud moan that satisfied him enough.

he sped up his pace, fucking you merciless, dirty talking and keeping his hand around your throat since he knew you liked it.

‘dirty whores disturbing their men while they’re working deserve a punishment’ he whispered against your skin, and his thrusts were now harder. you knew you’d have difficulty to walk tomorrow but it was worthy. rough ayato was always making you cum and it felt good enough for you to want more and more of it

SCARAMOUCHE

› in his car

› he loves it when it’s messy and what better place than a car where space is limited and he can feel your whole body against his as he fucks you slowly

› scaramouche is particularly fond of the way you moan softly into his ear and how it echoes in the whole car

⸻

‘you’re late’ scaramouche immediately said as you opened the door to the passenger side.

he wasn’t always rude but he was a jealous man, and knowing you were hanging out with other men while he was there, waiting for you, didn’t please him a lot.

you apologized for being late but he didn’t even let you finish, stealing you a kiss.

his fingers on your chin pulled you close and you let go of the security belt, wrapping your hands around his neck. you kept on making out for a moment and quickly ended up over him.

he had put his seat on laying mode so you could make your way over his body.

his lips didn’t seem to want to leave yours. the kiss was full of his rage and lust as if he craved it for a while. and he did crave it indeed.

his hands eagerly slipped under your shirt, caressing your breast and pinching your tits, while his teeth bit your inferior lip.

‘you’re gonna be rough today ?’ you asked as if you didn’t already know the answer to that question.

to that he only bit your neck gently. ‘is that a problem ?’ he whispered against your skin, sending multiple shiver down your spine.

he bit his own lip before licking your neck, making you moan. he knew how to please you better than anyone else, knew all your sensitive spots, and your neck was one of them.

‘no! i like it when you’re rough scara’ you affirmed, forcing him to look at you, and your playful smile.

to that he only giggled and spank you lightly a few times. ‘i know you do, you whores like it rough’

you pulled his hair, forcing him to look at you once again.

‘a-ah what is with you’ he complained, his brows furrowed and you liked to piss him off only to see that gaze and hear this intonation.

‘fuck me like one then.’ you added.

it was not long to feel him getting hard under you.

he took his pants off quickly so he could give you what you wanted. what you both wanted. it wasn’t often you fucked in his car but you reached orgasm everytime. and that night he didn’t go easy on you, fucking you dumb over and over again.

ZHONGLI

› in your bed

› zhongli is quite classic indeed but he prefers to fuck you in a bed so he can put you on any position he’d like to see you in, with no constrain

› and he particularly likes to use yours because the sheets are full of your scent that he is addicted to, and it drives him crazy to the point where he got no control over himself anymore

⸻

you just got out of the shower when you heard the door bell ringing. you didn’t expect anyone especially so late at night but you still went to check it out.

your boyfriend was here, a bouquet of flowers in hand that he dropped on the table kitchen counter after you’ve let him in.

‘do you wanna sleep in here tonight ? i was about to go to sleep’ you said. zhongli was fully dressed up and he didn’t bring any clothes with him. his visit was a surprise so of course you didn’t plan he would want to fuck you.

‘is that so ?’ he only said, approaching you and slipping his hands under your robe. his thin fingers were exploring your body, that was fully naked under and only with his touch, did he manage to make you horny.

‘fuck that’ you said, taking it all off. obviously this was what zhongli wanted because you could spot the satisfaction on his smile when you guided his right hand to your pussy.

you were wet already, and full of desire so both of you quickly went to your bedroom.

zhongli took off the clothes he was wearing when he came, allowing you to caress his muscular chest.

‘should i go hard on you ?’ he asked but you knew he’d end up fucking you hard anyway. this was how he liked it. pushing your head onto the pillow, because your muffled moans turned him on a lot. and spanking your plump ass, to see it red just as he liked it.

he ordered you to get on all fours. some days he likes to see your face and some other he wanted to be hard. the precum on the tip of his dick made it easier for him to thrust inside, and you both moaned at the same time.

it felt so good. zhongli felt so good inside of you. he knew all the right spots to make you cum fast and several times.

he pulled your hair with a hand and was guiding your waist to follow his rhythm with the other.

zhongli fucked you like no one else could.

he loved your smell and loved your moans so you tried to be the most vocal possible when fucking with him.

zhongli kept on pounding hard inside of you, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass mixed with your lewd moans as the only sound filling the room.

you didn’t know if zhongli was about to stay at your place for the whole night but if he was you were ready to fuck him all night long.

[scarletwinterxx]

sometimes you just don't know the answer - jaehyun imagine

all the jaehyun content on my twt tl made me write this, my feels for yoon oh coming back stronger than ever😂

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee (totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Hey, I'm going now"

You tell your boyfriend while standing by the doorway of his office. Jaehyun looked over at you for a second before turning his attention back to his work.

Ever since that night, your anniversary, he's been feeling a bit distant. How was he suppose to act when the love of his life, his long time girlfriend, the only woman he wants to be with for the rest of his life didn't give him an answer when he asked the ultimate question.

'Will you marry me?'

Those words still hanging in the air. Like an elephant in the room being ignored by the both of you.

"I'll be gone for five days, I cooked dinner already so you can just heat it up when you get hungry. Also I fed Bom already" you tell him, at the mention of her name the little puff of cloud picks her head up from the seat in the corner of the room before running over to you.

"Mommy will go now okay, I'll miss you" crouching down to pet her and give her a few more cuddles before going. Jaehyun glances over at you, his heart warming at the sight but he had to stay strong.

He doesn't understand why you didn't say yes, didn't you love him enough to marry him? did he do something wrong? was there someone else? Shaking those thoughts away he watches you give Bom a few more kisses before standing up, catching his gaze before he turns to his desk again

"Jae I..."

"I'll see you later" he says, finishing the conversation before it even started. You didn't push it any further, giving him the time and space he needed.

Then you went.

The first day you were gone, he didn't mind it much. You've gone to business trips before and so does he. The longest time you've been apart was 2 weeks when he had to attend a family trip when you couldn't come with him because of work. But never under this circumstances. Usually the two of you would text or call during free time but this time the only text he got was when you arrived at your hotel. It's been radio silence ever since.

He thought this alone time will do him good to clear his mind, but by the second day he missed you so much he's sure he was about to lose his mind. By the third day he almost bought a plane to where you were just so he could see you.

On the fourth day, he made himself busy. You texted him last night saying you've been busy with work you didn't have time to do anything else. He told you to eat dinner and a goodnight, the end. At this point he just wanted to have you back home. He doesn't even care anymore if you didn't want to marry him. He's never been this far from you, especially during a fight.

To distract himself, he cleaned around the apartment, did laundry, took Bom out for a walk and even went to the gym but still his mind was on you.

Stepping out of the shower, he got dressed. As he was putting on his shirt, he spots the red velvet box in his drawer. A reminder of what was supposed to be the sweetest night, but instead it now leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He pops the box open only to find it empty, thinking to himself if he lost it that night. Did he put it somewhere else?

Now he's frantically looking around the room, too busy to hear the front door open. Wheeling in your suitcase, you were welcomed by Bom running towards you

"Hey baby, did you miss me? I missed you too yes I did" you give her hugs and kisses, noticing Jaehyun wasn't in the kitchen or the living room.

Walking inside the house, you find him inside the bedroom

"What are you doing?"

Jaehyun jumps, surprised to hear another voice. He thought he went completely mad and now he's hearing your voice but then he turns around to see you by the door with your dog in your arms and a shiny ring on your finger.

He blinks once, twice. Even pinching himself on the arm to wake himself up, making sure he's not dreaming.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, putting Bom down before walking towards him. Jaehyun just looks at you, shaking his head before speaking

"You're home"

"Yea, I finished late last night. I chose the earliest flight back since I have nothing on my itinerary anymore. Is everything okay here? Are you looking for something?" you ask him, his gaze landing on your hand.

Noticing this, you follow his gaze. Remembering the ring you took before you went on your business trip.

"Oh I... I was going to..."

"Is that..." "Yea"

He's so confused, does this mean you say yes? but you never said anything, that night when he asked you you just stared at him. Too stunned to give him a simple yes or no

"This is not how I pictured it, I swear. I don't even know what I was thinking. But before I left, I saw the box then the next second I was wearing the ring. I was going to tell you, but you weren't talking to me"

"Well you did reject my proposal so yes I wasn't really in a talking mood"

"and I'm sorry, I wanted to say yes. My answer is still yes, I was just surprised that night I didn't know what to say okay. For years we've talked about it, so many nights I've dreamed about our future. And suddenly you were there, asking me, it was everything I've ever dreamed about and I got scared because what if I didn't deserve that. What if one day you find out I wasn't the one for you what if-"

"Marry me" Jaehyun cuts you off

"Huh?" at this point tears were already running down your face, but to Jaehyun you've never looked more beautiful.

"Marry me. Let's make those dream in reality, let's wake up together everyday, let's take walks with Bom every morning, cook dinner in your kitchen in the evening, make love at night. You deserve the world and more, and I promise you I'll work hard every day to be the man who deserves you. I want you, I've wanted you all these years, I'll want you for all my years. Marry me"

You didn't even say anything, you just ran straight into his arms. Jaehyun catching you, hugging you like his life depended on it.

"Is that a yes?" he mumbles, hearing a giggle from you before breaking away from his embrace

"Yes yes yes a million times yes" you tell him in between kisses, you kiss his cheeks his chin his nose his lips. Jaehyun smiles as he hears those words from you, picking you up to spin you around.

"So this means I don't have to give the ring back, right?" you ask him. He smiles down at you before going in for another sweet kiss, "That was only ever yours anyways"

[gravehags]

ghoul bicycle pack x reader with a tummy ache

because i'm nauseous and not being brave about it!

~~~

Sathanas you fucking hate feeling like this.

The den is empty and quiet, which for once you are thankful for. Large tumbler filled with water in hand, you shuffle out of your room and down the hall to the living area. Your stomach seizes ominously again and your free hand clutches at it. Groaning, you clamber onto the ridiculously deep couch and scoot into the furthest corner, tucking your legs to the side. With a sigh you realize the remote is all the way on the other end but the way another wave of nausea rolls over you, you can't be fucked to go get it. Instead you pick up your phone and open your messages - selecting the group titled "Virginity Annihilator Squad".

Hey, you guys gonna be done with Papa soon?

Rain is the first to text back.

What's wrong?

Followed by Cumulus--

What's going on, baby?

Followed by Aether--

Is everything alright, love?

Followed by Dewdrop--

You need me to kill someone or something?

You smile and shake your head, even as you curl in on yourself from the ache in your abdomen. They always - always - know when something isn't right with you, whether it's physically or emotionally. Part of why you adored all of them so.

I'm okay. Really nauseous. Don't worry about me though!

Sunshine messages you back with alarming speed.

Babe! No! What do you need, we'll bring you anything

Followed by Swiss--

I think we have some meds for that somewhere in the den - Mountain do you know where they are?

Followed by Dewdrop, again--

Don't puke on anything I own

You snort and roll your eyes.

Just for that Dew I'm puking on EVERYTHING you own xoxo

The phone is silent for a moment and another wave of nausea comes over you, alarming you enough that you sit up on your knees and prepare to run for the bathroom. You're taking deep breaths and your phone vibrates in your hand. It's Mountain.

We're on our way back

As nice as it was to have the den all to yourself, when you're feeling miserable the last thing you want is to be alone. You fall back onto your ass and reach for the blanket on the back of the couch, wrapping it around you. For the next few minutes you do your best to concentrate on your breathing and the rise and fall of your belly instead of the lingering desire to projectile vomit. When you hear the door to the den hallway open you sigh in relief. Within moments your loves begin filing in - Phantom practically running towards you and flinging himself onto the couch to scooch over to you. When he nestles in between your arm and your body, you grin.

"Are you okay?" he asks, brows furrowed in worry. "Sorry Dew was a dick earlier - you're sorry aren't you Dew?"

The fire ghoul is already shuffling onto the deep cushion on his knees toward you.

"No," he says with a sharp little grin, before taking the space on your opposite side. He leans up and places a soft kiss on your cheek, resting a hand on your abdomen.

"Cirrus read that warmth is supposed to help," he murmurs and you feel gentle heat radiating from his touch.

The others all clamber onto the cushions and settle in various spots around you. When Aurora bossily nudges her way in between your legs to rest her head in your lap you laugh.

"We brought you these from the infirmary, by the way," Aether says, passing a small box of medicine to you. You give him an air kiss and he grins before cozying up next to Sunshine. You look at the pile of ghouls surrounding you and sigh.

"I don't mean to alarm anyone but..."

All ten of them whip their heads around to you as if synchronized and you laugh.

"...but I love you all. Like, a lot. More than I'm even capable of putting into words."

Cumulus coos at you, her hand wrapped around your calf and head resting on your knee. Rain gives you a soft smile and takes your hand, kissing your fingers. They all are giving you very gooey looks but the moment is ultimately ruined when Mountain stretches big and dramatically tosses himself into the middle of the pile.

"Mount! You're crushing my lungs!"

"Sorry, Cir," the towering ghoul says archly, lazy grin on his face, "hazards of being part of this pack. Right, my love?"

He's looking at you and you smile back at him, giving him a wink.

"A hazard just like potentially getting puked on," you say, looking at Dewdrop who gives you a panicked stare, "I told you I was going to throw up on everything you own, didn't I?"

There's a concerned silence before you burst out laughing and snuggle yourself deeper into the corner, hands playing with Phantom and Dew's hair.

"It was a joke, guys. I mean, I think. I am still nauseated so..."

Someone grabs the remote and turns on the TV, putting on a home renovation show. Dewdrop doesn't stop warily looking at you out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the night.

[halfmoondaze]

can u do one where he forgets it’s her birthday

You Should Have Been Here

This was supposed to be the happiest day but instead, you found yourself locked in your guest bathroom while everyone else was having the best time celebrating your birthday.

You were surrounded by your closest friends and family members, who made time out of their busy schedules to show up and others even flew out to see you. But there was someone who was still missing.

You were whipping away your tears when there was a knock on the door.

You took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hey, we were missing you out there. Any news from Jack?”

Your face immediately shifted.

“Babes, what’s wrong?” Y/F/N asked.

“Can you please….shut the door?” you managed to say as you felt your voice breaking.

She quickly entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her before turning to you.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

You looked down and shake your head ‘no’, trying not to start crying.

And just like that she put the pieces together.

“Hey, it's ok” she softly said and embraced you.

You couldn’t take it anymore and burst into tears.

“He said he’ll be here” you whispered.

“Maybe something came up and he’s rushing to get here” she said trying to remain positive.

“I don’t think so” you slowly pulled away from her. “He didn’t even text me or called me to say ‘happy birthday”

“What?”

You just nodded in response.

“Y/N I’m so sorry”

“It’s fine. I should get back before everyone else starts to worry”

“Alright, but let me fix your makeup first so you don’t have to answer any awkward questions”

In the meantime, Urban who was at the party was growing annoyed at Jack for not answering any of his texts or calls; or even bothering to show up.

“Guys, have you heard from Jack?”

They all shrugged.

Then when he glanced at the hallway, he saw you walking out with Y/F/N and then he knew something was not right.

You managed to do the performance of her life, as you put on your best face for everyone else.

As you walked back to the Livingroom you were surprised by all your friends, as all the lights were turned off and everyone was singing happy birthday to you and filming you while one of your friends walked over to you with a birthday cake.

Urban, on the other hand, managed to sneak out of the house party without being noticed and drove off to Jack’s place.

After ringing the doorbell for what felt like the 10th time, Jack finally opened the door.

“Hey”

“Busy much?” he said with a pissed tone in his voice.

Jack was taken aback by Urban’s sudden mood.

“What?”

“I was calling you a bunch of times”

“Well sorry, I was in the studio” he said nonchalantly as he let Urban inside while he walked to his kitchen.

“So, is that why you didn’t even bother to show up?”

Jack stopped in his tracks and turned to Urban.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember what day is today?”

“Saturday?”

“It's Y/N’s birthday”

His face fell off as he stared into an empty space for a few seconds.

“No, it’s not. I could never forget it…” he said starting to panic as he pulled up his phone and looked at the date.

Then he came to the realization.

“Fuck” he said running his hands through his curls in frustration.

“Yeah”

“I-”

“You better go over there now before you lose your girl”

Jack wasted no time and walked out to his car and drove off to your place.

When Jack arrived at your place, it was too late. All the lights were off.

He sighed to himself.

He quietly walked to your front door and rang the doorbell.

When you opened the door, he saw you in your pajamas looking disappointed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it”

“I’m sorry too” you softly said before closing the door on him.

[kristinamae093]

Ghosted

Ghosted- Blindsided (Chapter 1)

Series Summary - Prince Liam fell for Riley Brooks hard and fast. A marriage filled with love and devotion was within his reach. But everything changed when she vanished just before the end of the social season. As everyone voices their concerns regarding her scandalous departure, a confession from an unlikely source turns Liam's world upside down and makes him question everything around him.

Book/Pairing - TRR- Liam x F!MC (Riley Brooks), hints of Liam x Madeleine

A/N1: This AU starts right before the beginning of the engagement tour. There is a two-month lapse between the coronation and where we pick up, but we will stray from canon.

A/N2: This has been heavily preread by a number of amazing people. There's so many to list, and most of you requested to be tagged anyway. But you know who you are, and your help and guidance has been crucial during this process.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Liam quickly made his way through the halls of the Applewood Estate, intent on reaching his destination. He had received a text from Maxwell requesting him to come to Lady Riley’s room. Although bewildered and slightly concerned, the Prince agreed to Maxwell's summons at such an early hour. 

He approached the door and knocked; Maxwell quickly opened it and ushered him inside without saying a word. Liam took notice of Maxwell’s red-rimmed, swollen eyes. His usual peppy demeanor was nowhere to be found, instead replaced with despondency. He began pacing back and forth anxiously in the space between the couch and the bed. 

As Liam entered the room, he saw Bertrand in a chair in the corner; his elbows were on his knees, his head rested in his palms. His shoulders subtly shook, and Liam swore he could hear his breath hitch. Bertrand did not stand for or acknowledge the Prince’s entrance, not that Liam wanted him to; it was just very un-Bertrand-like and gave Liam an uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

And he didn’t see Riley.

“Maxwell, what’s going on?” Liam asked as he took a couple of slow, cautious steps further inside.

“It’s…It’s Riley…”

Liam gave Maxwell a quizzical look. “What’s wrong? Where is she?” He felt his heart rate quicken immediately. The air in his lungs suddenly had a burning sensation with every breath he took. 

Maxwell stopped his movements and turned to him, “That’s just it… She’s… She’s gone…” he covered his face, as his emotions began spilling over. He took a deep, shaky breath before he started again, “I came to get her this morning to leave, and…”

“What do you mean, she’s gone? She’s here somewhere! Perhaps she’s at breakfast… o-or with Hana.” 

“Look in the closet! Look in the dresser! Everything’s gone!” Maxwell cried and resumed his earlier steps.

Liam turned and strode to the closet, stopping to flip on the light switch. Empty.

He rushed across the room to the dresser and ripped open all the drawers. Empty. 

Liam stood and stared wide-eyed at the empty drawers. He ran his trembling hands through his hair as his mind raced, trying helplessly to find a solution that made sense. However, he could hear no coherent thoughts at that moment over the sound of his heart as it thundered in his ears. The burn in his chest intensified; his windpipe felt as if it were slowly constricting with every labored breath he took.

“What?! No…. No…. You-you were supposed to leave in a little while, right? That’s why she packed all her belongings. She-she could have left before you or-”

Drake heard the commotion from his room next door and barged into the room. Liam turned from his spot by the dresser to face him, his usual stoic facade replaced with a distressed expression that made Drake’s anxiety heighten. Maxwell stopped his movements to face him, but quickly started again. Bertrand raised his gaze momentarily, but immediately put his head back in his hands once he saw who it was at the door. 

Drake slowly entered the room and cautiously approached Liam. “Um……… Everything alright here?” 

“No! They’re saying Riley’s gone! That’s… that’s absurd! I just spoke with her last night!” Liam barked. 

Drake’s eyes widened, but he shook his head. “No way! I would’ve heard her! I was right next door.” He turned to face Maxwell. “She’s here somewhere, Beaumont. Stop freaking people out over nothing! Did you even try calling her?!” 

“Of course, I tried calling her! I’m not a complete idiot! That’s how I found this!” Maxwell huffed as pulled a phone from his pocket.

Riley’s phone.

Both men froze and stared, perplexed, at the phone in Maxwell’s hand. They slowly turned their attention back to his face. Maxwell looked up to meet Liam’s gaze and saw the anger and confusion in his eyes. 

Liam had grown impatient and moved to where he stood in front of Maxwell. “I demand to know what is going on. NOW!” He bellowed as he leaned over the shorter man.

Maxwell winced at Liam’s volume. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath to stabilize himself before he started. “I knocked on the door like I always do, and she didn’t answer. I turned the doorknob just to see if it was open, and it was. So, I came in…” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was to no avail. “I looked around and noticed her stuff was gone, but it didn’t phase me at the time since we were supposed to leave soon... So I… I called her……”

“Out with it, Beaumont!” Drake shouted. 

Before Maxwell could respond, Bertrand piped up from his spot in the corner, head still in his hands, “Show them.” Both men snapped their heads over to Bertand, then slowly panned back to Maxwell, who had returned his gaze to the floor. 

When Maxwell met their eyesight again, his tears streamed freely down his face, “I could hear her phone ringing... I… I found it inside the bedside table…. And I found this with it…” He pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket, and carefully sat it on top of the phone.  

Liam took the device and paper gingerly. The room was silent, aside from heavy breaths of anticipation. He stared at the paper for what felt like hours before he slowly unfolded it. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces as he read it:

I’m sorry.

-R

A knock on his study door interrupted Liam from his daze. He spun away from his position at the window behind his desk and sat up straight in his chair. He busied his hands with a stack of papers that lay in front of him before he granted them entrance. 

“Hey, Li.” Liam looked up and saw Drake enter, and stood to shake his hand as he approached his desk. 

Liam headed towards the bar cart in the corner and poured a drink of scotch for himself and Drake. He took both glasses and went back to his desk; he handed Drake one as he went before he settled back into his chair. 

“So, what brings you by, Drake?”

“Oh, I was out and about, thought I’d stop by. I was actually hoping to bust you outta this place for a bit. Hit that bar we used to go to, even invited the Beaumonts.” 

Liam feigned shock. “You, Drake Walker, invited the Beaumonts?!”

“I can take it back.” Drake smirked with a shrug.

“No, I was just shocked you willingly want to hang out with Maxwell. And they’re actually going to come this time?”

“Max is. Sounded excited. He said he was more than ready to ‘trade the spreadsheets in for a dance floor’,” Drake rolled his eyes, “but it’ll be nice to see him, kinda miss that little fucker.”

“I agree. He always had a way of making things lighter. Well, before….” Liam trailed off and stared blankly past Drake to the fireplace. 

“Yeah, I know. I feel bad for them. But nobody saw that shit coming, nobody.” Drake sighed before continuing, “Look, man, let the past be the past. Stop sitting here sulking! Look to the future!”

“I don’t know what’s worse, thinking about the past, or a future with Madeleine.” Liam made a face of disgust. 

“Touche, but you’re a smart man! I know you can get out of that! I don’t know how, but I’m sure you can find a hidden Royal loophole or some shit!”

Liam let out a heavy breath. “I wish it were true, but at this moment, I am indeed engaged to Madeleine, with no end in sight.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t try to be happy, Liam!” 

Liam ran a hand down his face before he responded, “I don’t think I know what happiness is anymore,” in a soft voice.

“Come on, Liam. Let’s go out and have some beers, like we used to! Forget about all the bullshit for one night? Especially before the engagement tour kicks off.” Drake suggested hopefully.

“I’ll have to let you know about that. Actually, I have a dinner meeting with the French ambassador, and I’m not sure how late it will be when we’re finished.” Liam gave Drake a sad smile. “But please make sure they stop by if they show up. They should not be trying to hide from me, anyway. I’m their friend. And if anyone understands and sympathizes with the mess they’ve found themselves in, it’s me.”

Drake returned Liam’s sad smile before he stood once more and extended his hand for a handshake. As their hands met, they heard a sharp knock at the door. Liam followed Drake across the room and patted him on the back as he did so. When he opened the door, both his and Drake’s jaws hit the floor.

“Olivia!?” they both gasped at once.

“Surprised to see me?” Olivia smirked as she strode past them into the room and sat on the couch in front of the fireplace. 

Liam and Drake stood, eyes wide and mouths agape, staring at her. She crossed her legs and rested her hands in her lap, and began tapping her manicured nails on her thigh. After a few moments, she rolled her eyes and quipped, “Most people usually greet one with a ‘hello’ or, in my case, ‘Greetings, esteemed Duchess Olivia Nevrakis’.”

Liam closed the door and he and Drake crossed the room to the set of chairs in front of the couch Olivia sat upon. They remained silent, each trying to gather their thoughts. 

Finally, Liam spoke. “Where have you been?” 

“Around.” 

Liam scoffed, “I was going to pick you but you fucking disappeared! You left me wondering why not one, but two of my suitors hightailed it!”

Olivia kept her tone neutral, despite Liam’s apparent anger. “I didn’t have a choice… I received a letter the night of your coronation. It said if I refused to leave, they would release a media narrative exposing my parents' true demise.” 

Liam felt indignant. “What?! But they died in a political assassination, Olivia! We’ve known this since we were children!”

“That’s what I thought as well, but along with the letter, I received evidence. They did not die protecting the Crown, they died trying to overthrow the Crown.” Olivia pulled a manila file folder from her bag. She opened it and put the letter, along with the proof, on the table in front of them. 

Liam scanned over every detail as his mind overflowed with questions. Olivia’s admission shook him, but he remained steadfast with his frustration over her secrecy. Drake sat next to him with his own stunned expression as his mind developed questions and assumptions of his own. 

As he continued to filter through the papers, Liam looked at Olivia with narrowed eyes and snapped, “Why didn’t you tell me?! I could have helped you!” 

Olivia looked away from Liam and quietly said, “I… held my parents on a pedestal for so long. To have all that information dumped on me at once…” she shook her head, “I just fled… I wish I hadn’t, but at the time…”

Although he continued to feel slightly frustrated Olivia hadn’t told him, Liam relented. “I wish you would have said something before you left, but I also understand your reasoning. You obviously know I had my own… things happen that night, so I cannot hold your reaction against you.”

Olivia didn’t respond, but nodded her head in acknowledgement. Liam continued, “Who sent you this?”

“I’m not sure. I tracked it through six different middlemen, but I’ve hit a dead end. All I know is whoever did this went to great lengths to keep their identity hidden.”

Olivia regarded her friend and King sitting in front of her closely, as he continued through the documents. Even before she started dropping truth bombs on him, he didn’t look like Liam. His eyes were tired, the bags notable. She noticed a forming 5 o’clock shadow on his face and saw that his forehead appeared permanently creased with worry lines. 

Olivia had been watching the news to see how Liam was faring during his first couple months as King. She could see his eyes, devoid of emotion, as he gave press interviews. He gave a forced smile, and his shoulders slouched ever so slightly. His voice missed that gusto he used to have, and his laughs were clearly a front. To anyone else, he was Liam, being the dutiful King. But Olivia knew him better than that. Even from afar, she could tell Riley’s sudden departure and the scandal had taken a toll on him. 

Olivia wasn’t sure how Liam felt about the rumor, or if he looked into her disappearance at all. She knew that approaching the subject could go a multitude of ways, but she had to take her chances. In the couple of months since Liam’s ascension, Olivia had plenty of time to piece things together. But Liam hadn’t known about the blackmail they had threatened her with. 

Olivia sat forward and tentatively asked, “Liam, what do you know about the Riley situation?” 

Liam scoffed, “What do you mean ‘Riley situation’? She disappeared! Left a note and vanished. But apparently not before fucking Tariq!” he huffed.

Okay, anger it is, Olivia thought to herself. She sat forward and leveled her eyes with his. “Did you do an investigation?”

“Bastien searched for her after she left and found nothing.” 

“But did you inspect the estate? Or her room? Any place that could have held some kind of trace?” 

“I was a little busy, Olivia. The Social Season couldn’t come to a standstill.” 

“I get that, but you didn’t think to investigate after the fact? You just accepted that Riley had apparently chosen to run off into the night with Tariq, of all people?”

“What was I supposed to do? Put the Social Season on hold hoping to find a ghost? Or waste time trying to find her after I took the throne, when I clearly had more important matters to attend to? She packed her shit and left without a word to anyone. And yes… apparently with Tariq.” Liam snapped as he shook his head

"Are you serious right now?" Olivia exasperated, her face in a completely dumbfounded expression. 

"There isn’t even any evidence to support this baffling theory you’ve concocted!”

“Oh, but there is, if you know what to look for,” Olivia smirked. 

“I don’t have time for this. I have a dinner meeting soon and I need to prepare.” Liam insisted as he stood from his chair and walked back to his desk. 

“You don’t find it at all odd that someone took photos of her from outside a fucking window? How did they even get such an angle when Riley’s room was on the second floor of the estate?” Olivia questioned from her position on the couch.

“Maybe they just got caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing.” Liam retorted, as he gathered stacks of paper on his desk. 

“Liam, man, I think you should hear her out…” Drake cautiously said as he stood from his chair and crossed the room to stand in front of Liam. 

“Why? Why should I?” Liam asked, face red with indignation, “You just told me to leave the past in the past. Now suddenly it’s okay?”

“Look, all I’m saying is it would make sense.” Liam gave Drake a scowl, but he continued, “I don’t want to believe that the Brooks we knew would do that! If there’s a chance that something happened to her, or she got set up, I wanna know…”

Liam squinted his eyes at Drake before he snapped, “Maybe we didn’t know her at all!!” 

“I call bullshit! I think you know deep down, she did not run away with fucking Tariq!” Olivia abruptly interjected. She had to count to ten in her head, as any sense of calm she had felt was quickly vanishing as Liam remained in denial.

In all honesty, Liam wanted to believe something was amiss in the beginning. When Bastien searched for her and found no signs of her in New York, it devastated Liam. He assumed she had left because the pressure of being with him was too great a burden to carry. He went through the last bit of the social season like the good Prince he was supposed to be. Although he felt numb, like a large portion of himself had disappeared with Riley.

Liam had thought of a last-minute plan to continue his search for her, but abandoned all efforts when the scandal came to light. His devastation turned to rage, mostly stemming from public humiliation. He knew the blame ultimately lay with himself for his reaction to the story, but it was easier to blame Riley; she was not around to defend herself, anyway, and no evidence proved otherwise.

Liam convinced himself that her affair with Tariq was the answer to the question of why Riley had left. Although, he often found his heart to be in turmoil with his head over the decision. 

Liam had since thrown himself into his work. He found the longer he kept his Crown on, the less time he spent spiraling into the ‘what ifs’. It was useless to fight against it, although he found it to be easier to ignore as time carried on.

More than that, he needed to mend the dent his reputation had suffered right off the bat. His reign began with disgrace and indignity; he was bound and determined he would not find himself back in that position again.

But as Liam stood there and listened to Olivia and Drake, he could physically feel the brief glimmer of hope he had buried so long ago start flickering within. It was incredibly subtle, but there nonetheless.

Liam sighed and reluctantly walked back to the chair across from Olivia, Drake close behind. 

“Okay. I’ll listen.” Liam said as he sat down, his tone neutral. 

Olivia pulled a set of the photos of Riley and Tariq out of her manila folder. Although they appeared substantially enlarged compared to the small tabloid size Liam and Drake had seen before.  

She presented them with an image, a closer shot of Riley and Tariq, Riley's back pressed against the window. She held it up to them and continued, "There’s no sign of physical affection on Riley’s part. See her arms? It looks as if they're directly at her sides, there's no extension to her elbows whatsoever. Not anything huge, but worth noting in my eyes, considering she isn’t touching him in any photo."

“Her touching him is the least of my worries here, Olivia.” Liam snapped.

Olivia picked up a different picture, another close up of Riley and Tariq, but their bodies had marginally turned. “This one, you can see her head turned slightly to the side. If you look closely, you can see discoloration around her eye, as well as what appears to be a laceration on her cheek.” She sat the photo on the table for Liam and Drake to see. 

“Could have been different lighting, a shadow, anything. This proves nothing.” Liam shook his head, his irritation escalating.  

Olivia did not say a word, only sat a photo on the table that was a full view of the entire window. The angle remained similar, but this was the only one where Riley and Tariq had completely changed positions; this time they stood face to face. Riley's back was nearly out of view, but a hand of Tariq's was around her waist. Her face was hidden facing the opposite direction, but Tariq wore a wide grin on his that was clear as day, even in the low lit night. But that is not what had been troubling Olivia the most. 

“This is the original. At first glance, all you would see is Tariq and Riley. But when you increase the exposure…” Olivia trailed off and reached for yet another photo; the same as before, but much brighter. 

Liam and Drake sat forward, each man hunting intently to see the relevance. Drake saw it first and gasped when he spotted it. Liam turned to Drake with a look of puzzlement, silently asking what he had found. Drake pointed to a corner of the photograph, away from Riley and Tariq.

“Is… is that?” Drake stammered.

“A person? Yes.” Olivia answered with certainty.

“Who is it?” 

“I can’t tell who it is. I spoke with someone about trying to do facial recognition, but they said because of the quality of the photo blown up, it wouldn’t be possible. The original is too dark to even recognize a face.”

“So it’s a dead end, and this has been a waste of time!” Liam exclaimed. He shook his head and sharply sighed before he continued, “Look, Olivia, I appreciate what you were trying to do, but this isn’t a mystery. She left.”

“You still don’t see it, do you?”

“No, I saw it. There’s an excellent possibility it’s once again just a shad-”

“Do not say it’s a fucking shadow, Liam! You can clearly see a person’s silhouette there!”

“But not prominent enough to be identified.” Liam said in a flat tone. 

Olivia rolled her eyes before she snapped, “Okay. So it’s unidentifiable. But can we talk about why there’s some random person in the corner watching while they’re apparently ‘having relations’?!”

Liam became mute, aside from his heavy breaths, the agitation he felt written all over his face. Although a part of him wanted to counter, he couldn’t establish a response to Olivia’s question.

Olivia smirked at Liam’s silence. “That’s what I thought.”

“I think it’s worth checking out…” Liam snapped his head over to Drake with a look of annoyance, but Drake continued. “You can’t deny there’s someone else in this picture, Liam!” 

“How do we know these are real and not fabricated?!”

Olivia narrowed her eyes at Liam. “You think I’d bring you doctored photos? Really?”

“I’m not saying you would purposefully! I'm only saying it's a possibility!” 

Drake answered, “We’ve spent all this time wondering what happened and why she left. We finally have some kind of lead, and you don’t want to check it out?”

Liam groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Even if I wanted to investigate further, once the Engagement Tour starts I will be incredibly busy. I don’t have the time, nor the patience, to investigate grainy photos.” He stood from his chair and rushed back to his desk. “I’m glad you’re here, Olivia. Hopefully, you’ll be joining us on the engagement tour. If you two will excuse me, I must be going.” 

Olivia and Drake watched as Liam quickly gathered his belongings, strode to the door, and slammed it shut behind him. They sat in silence for a few moments, each trying to gather their thoughts about the situation that sat in front of them. 

Drake finally quietly spoke. “You think something could’ve happened to her?”

Olivia sighed, her eyes softening at the question. “I really don’t know. I have a hunch that my blackmail and whatever happened to Riley share a relation. If I wouldn’t have left, there would have been two scandals that hit the news cycle that night. That doesn’t sound coincidental to me.”

“No, it doesn’t. But what do we do about Liam?”

“Has he been like this since the coronation?”

Drake exhaled and nodded his head. “Pretty much, yeah. He goes back and forth from depressed to straight up pissed off. I’ve never seen him so unhinged. After she first left, it was almost like he was grieving a loved one who had passed away.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I very much remember watching Liam sulk in the corner with you all night at the Beaumont Bash.”

“Yeah. But after the coronation, you could almost see the switch flip. He wasn’t really sad anymore, just fucking enraged. Wouldn’t talk about her, wouldn’t even let me talk about her. He’d get irate and leave.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah… He’s calmed down a lot, but I know it’s eating him inside. He can sit here and tell us he doesn’t believe it, but I think he’s known from the beginning that something wasn’t right…”

A brief stillness overtook the room before Drake leaned forward and asked, “You know why he was so mad you left?” 

“Because he got stuck with she-demon?” Olivia chuckled.

“Well yeah, there’s that. But… he had a plan.” 

“A plan?” Olivia asked, her confusion prominent. 

“Yep… He was going to pick you so he could keep looking for Riley after the coronation.” 

Olivia’s eyes widened. “Really?” 

“That’s what he said, anyway. But after the scandal… He never spoke of it again. I don’t know if he gave up because he had to pick Madeleine, and felt like he couldn’t look for her or…” 

“I should be spiteful that I was the second choice to begin with, but I take the utmost satisfaction in knowing Madeleine was publicly the third choice.” Olivia laughed with a sneer. She continued, “But I don’t think for a second he truly believes that bullshit story. He’s only covering his own ass for how he reacted.”

“Oh yeah. Connie ripped him big time for that.” Drake stated with wide eyes. 

“I imagined so.”

A content silence overtook them, aside from the sounds of light rain as it tapped against the windows. Drake sat back, turned his head to the ceiling, and let out a breath of air. 

“I always wondered how she got out of there. There were so many people there, and I was in the room right next to hers…” Drake trailed off.

“And you didn’t hear her, or anything?”

“Not a peep.”

“That is odd.”

Drake sat up and faced Olivia. “I think we should check into this. I know Liam didn’t seem to believe the idea, but there has to be something out there. Some kind of clue, anything. Even if we find out, she really ran off with Tariq.” His face grimaced at the thought. 

“Oh, I plan to. The blackmail I received and whatever happened to Riley have to be connected, I just don’t know how, yet. But they’re messing with the Duchess of Lythikos, and I don’t take kindly to threats.” 

“Well, I wanna help.”

Drake’s phone chimed with a text message. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that Maxwell had answered his earlier text. He quickly shot a response before he turned back to Olivia. “I’m gonna go meet Maxwell for a couple of drinks. You wanna come? Maybe Max knows something, or we can try to assemble a plan of some sort.”

Olivia debated it briefly before she let out a heavy breath. She rubbed her index finger and thumb over her nose and whispered to herself, “Zenobia give me strength.” 

Tags (If you'd like to be removed at any time, just let me know.): @choicesficwriterscreations @ao719 @txemrn @imashybish @emkay512 @queenrileyrose @kingliam2019 @riseandshinelittleblossom @dcbbw @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @amandablink @cordonia-gothqueen @sfb123 @harleybeaumont @bebepac @charlotteg234 @aussiegurl1234 @jared2612

[themalhambird]

Four Degrees of Separation

The cafe is heaving: Shahara Hasan is clearly not the only person to have ducked in out of the rain. She turns from the counter, teapot and china-laden tray in her hands, scanning for an empty table- or at least an empty seat. Several people studiously avoid making eye contact, but a man with curling auburn hair and carefully trimmed beard sitting alone at a table for four glances up at her, and starts to move the cups of coffee littered around him to the side of the table. Shahara crosses to him. “Do you mind if I sit?” she asks. He’s sitting at the back right corner, she indicates the seat diagonally opposite him. He gives a half smiles wrapping his hands around the coffee left in front of him. 

“Please,” he says, “I’ll be leaving once I’ve finished this anyway.” The sentence finishes in a quiet sort of sigh. Shahara sits, and pours out her tea. It’s her day off, but that doesn’t mean her detective habits switch off: she watches the man from the corner of her eye as he checks his wristwatch, and then his phone, which is laying on the table next to him, and then his watch again. His shoulders slump, and he picks up his cup- but puts it down again without drinking. He looks over to the door. 

“Waiting for someone?” Shahara asks, sipping her tea. She can’t help it. It seems rude to sit here and not strike up a conversation and besides- detective. A certain amount of nosiness comes with the territory. The man looks back at her.

“My daughter,” he says, after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s- she’s eighteen. I left my wife- her mother last week,” he grimaces. “She was supposed to meet me when her classes were over, but- well. I told her I would stay until three.” 

It’s somewhere around three thirty. Shahara gives him a sympathetic grimace of her own. “I’m sure she’ll come round,” she offers.

“I hope so,” the man finally takes a long sip of his coffee, then puts the cup down and stands up. “I think I’ll call her,” he says, picking up his phone and offering Shahara something of an awkward smile. “And leave you to enjoy your tea in peace. Have a good afternoon.”

“And you,” Shahara says. She notices as leaves that a fairly worn looking wedding band is still encircling his ring finger. 

*** 

Her phone lights up and starts to ring; “Dad!” is emblazoned across the screen. Polly Hillinghead stares at it for a good five seconds before firmly jabbing ‘reject call’ with her finger “Fuck off,” she mutters. A few moments pass, and a text message pops up. 

Dad!: just let me know you’re all in one piece x

The familiar refrain of her teenage years- “You don’t need to say exactly where you are, just let me know you’re all in one piece”. “You can stay out with your friends late as you like, but let me know every hour you’re all in one piece.”- makes her angrier than she already is. Of course she’s not “all in one piece,” how can she be when her Dad just- just left, out of nowhere!? “He’s figured something out,” Polly’s mum had said, seeming sad but far too calm. Like something she’d been waiting for for a while had finally happened- but as far back as Polly could remember, her mum and dad had never fought- never really been at odds, except when her dad got caught up working late and forgot to let them know.

Another message pops up.

Dad!: if you don’t want to message me, can you text your mother to let her know you’re alright?

Polly’s frustration rises further still. Why won’t he bloody well fight? The moment she messaged him to say she might not come see him at that cafe and if she did, she would definitely be late, he should have been messaging back all, “You made a commitment, come and find me or I’ll come and find you.” Instead, he’s giving her space- being understanding and reasonable and-

“You look pissed.”

Polly looks up. 

There’s a kid, probably eight or nine, or thereabouts, in a bright red anorak staring at her with bright, curious eyes. “Why are you pissed?” she asks.

“My dad’s being annoying,” Polly says slowly, looking around. None of the adults passing by seem to be paying the slightest bit of attention to the little girl. “Where’s your dad? Or your mum?”

“Don’t have either,” the girl says cheerfully. “Uncle Karl’s in there,”- pointing at the T.M Lewin’s opposite the shopping centre bench that Polly had been sitting on for the last hour and a half- “and I was with him, but he’s taking forever and I got bored.”

“...Right,” Polly says. “Grown ups can seem to go really slowly, sometimes, but you shouldn’t wander off. When your uncle turns around and sees that you’re missing he’ll probably be really-”

“Esther!” A tall, handsome man in a very smart suit bursts out of the shop, looking frantically around

“-worried,” Polly finishes, standing.She sweeps her arm in an arc above her head and the peculiar movement catches the man’s attention- as Polly had hoped it would- and his gaze narrows in on the bright red anorak. He crosses over to them in three long strides as the kid- Esther- turns away from Polly, folding her arms. 

“Esther, what do I say about staying close!” “Uncle Karl” demands, grabbing the girl by her upper arms. “Do not! Wander off! You’re going to turn me grey the rate you’re going-”

“You were going grey before I got here.”

There’s no, Polly can’t help noticing, trace of grey whatsoever in the man’s jet black hair. “Yeah, well.” Uncle Karl says. “You’re making it worse. Come on.” He straightens, and looks Polly squarely in the face for the first time. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her, miss. Sorry if she bothered you.”

Polly smiles. She smiles, and she definitely does not blush. “Not at all.”

“The lady’s mad because her father’s being annoying,” Esther says. “Like you’re annoying for taking ten hours to look at stupid ties.”

“It was not ten hours,” her uncle growls. “You’re annoying.”

“You said when you were done in there we could get ice cream. Can we go get ice cream?” 

Polly bites back a laugh. Karl gives her one last thanks-and-also-kids,- am -I -right?- sort of expression, and steers his niece away with a firm grip on her shoulder. Polly watches them go, then looks down at her phone. I’m fine, she texts her father. Then: 

-I’ve been sitting in the shopping centre trying to figure out if I want to see you or not and I still don’t know right now.

-Why can’t you just come home? Tell mum you made a mistake, whatever it was, and come home.

*** 

They get ice cream, but only because Charles Whiteman wants one himself after that sickening thirty seconds. He’d paid for the tie he’d decided on for Callaghan’s birthday present- never hurt to give the boss something nice when it didn’t look so much like sucking up-  he’d turned around…

Well. That was this afternoon, and now it was evening: Esther was safely tucked up in bed and he, Whiteman, was standing outside the apartment complex enjoying a well deserved cigarette. He took a drag and exhaled, closing his eyes and savouring the faint rush. When he opened them again, a woman in a wheelchair was pushing herself toward the apartment entrance. Vaguely recognising her, Whiteman stubbed his cigarette out on the wall behind him, and then pulled open the door just as she came up to it. “Thanks,” she said, heading through. 

“No problem,” he said. And then: “Not sure how long you’ve been out, but sometime between this morning and two hours ago, the lift broke down, apparently. There’s a sign gone up on it, do you need any help, or…?”

She looks over her shoulder at him. “I’m on the ground floor,” she says, “But thanks anyway. It’s Mr. Whiteman, right? I’ve seen you about.”

“Yeah. Charles Whiteman. Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“I’m Iris. Maplewood.” She smiles politely at him. “I’ll see you sometime, probably.”

“Yeah,” Whiteman says. “And you. Good night.”

“Good night,” 

Iris Maplewood moves off. Whiteman lets the apartment door go, and fishes in his pocket for another cigarette. 

*** 

The apartment complex isn’t the nicest in London, but it’s not the worst- not by a wide margin. The neighbours- like Mr. Whiteman- tend to be polite enough in passing, but keep more or less to themselves, which suits Iris Maplewood fine. She’s a private person, she’d rather not have well meaning people trying to meddle. Although…

She pulls out her phone and dials a number, raising the phone to her ear. It rings, and it rings, and it rings, and then a familiar pre-recorded voice tells her to leave a message after the tone. 

“Shahara? It’s Iris. I just got back from that date you insisted I go on.  You were right. Defoe is kind of cute, if  a bit nerdy. A lot nerdy. Anyway I’m still not convinced that setting someone who works in dispatch up with someone who may or may not be a witness in a case is completely ethical, but I didn’t get murdered and I had a nice time, so you win, I guess. Bye.”

She hangs up, and grins a small grin to herself. Defoe’s not a witness- not really. He’s a physics professor that Shahara had to ask a few questions about some students who he could only just recognise by face, and not at all by name… and he’d been sweet, and engaging, and Iris had enjoyed herself. And so had Defoe- Gabriel- apparently, because at the end of the date, he’d asked if they could do it again some time.  Iris had replied with a very emphatic yes.

[krikeymate]

Thinking of how nervous Sam had sounded at the beginning of 6 when she called Tara and said. “You’re supposed to answer when I call. I was thinking we could make dinner together. If you want.”

and then the idea of Sam being attacked by Ghostface after she leaves that voicemail popped up. Sam is killed and no one finds out until hours later.

Tara never returns her call.

Tara gets home after Chad saves her from DR Frankie and she asks Quinn if she’s seen Sam but Quinn shrugs and says she never came home.

Tara finally listens to the voicemail and feels a bit guilty hearing it but then worried when she realizes that Sam should be home by now. Cue Quinn telling her to come into the living room and Tara comes out to see Sam’s picture on the television and details about Samantha Carpenter being brutally murdered.

Hey Bailey, fuck you. 💔

Tara storms home with an apologetic Chad on her tail, the rest of their friends trailing behind. She ignores him, furious about the scene he caused and the attention he drew to them. Tara's not some child who can't make her own decisions, how dare he try to control her, how dare he.

How dare he think that "Sam asked me to look out for you!" was any sort of explanation, that it was reasonable or acceptable. She's going to kill him, and then she's going to kill Sam. Sam who can't stay out of her business or let her have some freedom for one goddamn second. Tara doesn't need to be monitored every fucking moment of the fucking day!

She slams the door in Chad's face. She's not dealing with him tonight.

Tara throws herself onto her bed and smothers herself with her pillow, screaming into the material. She's angry, but mostly she's angry at herself. How could she put herself in that situation? One where she needs to be saved from. Tara's spent all this time talking about how she's not a victim, and she goes and tries to make herself one. Eugh.

She allows herself to be distracted by the buzzing of her phone. She flips through the texts from her friends, sighs at her twitter notifications blowing up, and ah, winces at the missed call from Sam.

You know you're supposed to pick up when I call. I got out of therapy early, so I was thinking maybe we cook dinner tonight. If you want. I'll see you soon.

Great. Now Tara feels guilty about this too. Another apology she needs to make.

She rolls out of bed to knock on Sam's door. "Sam?" she calls, cracking it open and peering in. The room is dark and empty.

She checks the living space next, but there's only Quinn on the couch watching TV, flipping through the channels.

Frowning, she checks the time on her phone and tries to call her instead. Sam doesn't pick up.

You know you're supposed to pick up when I call, Tara teases, leaving a message. Call me back, where are you? I'm sorry I missed your call earlier, I was out. I'm sure your little informants will tell you all about it tomorrow.

Love you, she adds as an afterthought to delay putting down the phone in the hope Sam will suddenly pick up.

"Tara?" Quinn calls from the living room. She sounds... alarmed.

"What's up," she asks, walking back into the room. Quinn looks at her, shocked, and turns her head back to the TV, clicking the volume up on the remote.

The phone drops from Tara's hand as her vision narrows in on the television screen. She can hear Quinn talking to her in the background, a phone ringing, but all she can focus on is the voice of the reporter on the TV.

Standing in front of a shocking scene...

A woman now confirmed to be Samantha Carpenter...

The police have not revealed any other details however...

The following video has been circulating online. Warning, this footage is not for the faint of heart...

Sam is- Sam- she.

Tara falls to her knees.

[bearbluebooks]

Chapter 9 of Christmas in Velaris

The first thing she wanted to do was call Nesta, who knew she was going on a date and offered to kick “Christmas ass” if needed. Instead of a SOS, she decided to send Nesta a GPS, just in case. “Hey Nesta, I’m just walking home, could you keep me company and follow the location I just sent you?” Just like old times, when they didn't go to sleep until everybody sent their 'I'm home' text.

Gwyn became so entranced in her conversation, that she didn’t see the shadow that followed her too.

Read Chapter 1 here or Chapter 9 here on AO3

December 10th, 20:00

Soft Christmas songs played in the background as Nesta and Gwyn spent the entire morning in bed. Breakfast and stories filled the space they slowly reclaimed together. Nesta shared all the memories Gwyn couldn’t be a part of, and together they made a promise to create new ones. They had already planned their next catch-up with Emerie, who couldn't be there sooner because she had to meet "the inlaws from hell."

Nesta told Gwyn about the Valkyrie bootcamp Cassian started two months ago which she could join for free as long as she gave a review at the end. Gwyn practically jumped up and down on the bed when Nesta told her about it.

Nesta left around 3 pm after they had breakfast and talked for hours. 

Something in Gwyn healed after the night, and Gwyn couldn’t help the hope that softly blossomed in her chest.

Gwyn spend the rest of the day coming up with a solution to her money problem. All her brainstorming almost made her forget about the date.

She had never gotten ready so quickly in her life. One glance in the mirror told her the brown eyeliner and red lipstick were where they were supposed to be, and not smeared across her face as she worried. With hurried hands, she straightened the red dress she hastily put on. A white knitted cardigan with wide sleeves kept her warm from the coldness that was sure to follow her inside. Her trusty all-stars provided the perfect aide in her run to the restaurant. Normally she was a stickler for time, but tonight she needed all the help she could get.

“Don’t wreck the place,” Gwyn said to Mouse as she moved her ass at record speed to the Italian restaurant. 

Before she made her way inside, she took one minute to catch her breath. Even though it was just an eight-minute walk, she rushed the whole way from her house and her stamina wasn’t what it used to be- which was even more reason to join the bootcamp.

Even from outside, she could hear the restaurant was full. One look inside confirmed her suspicion, the dimly lit place was filled to the brim. Tables of all different sizes occupied the small space- not a single one of them was empty.

Nerves already swirled in her stomach, and suddenly they increased tenfold as thoughts entered her brain in rapid-fire: what if there was no more space? What if they had to awkwardly find another restaurant? Why didn’t she make a reservation?

As she took one more look inside, she decided to focus on the good instead: she made it. She didn’t cancel. And that in itself was a success, no matter what would happen tonight she promised herself to see it as such.

With more confident strides, she went inside. The smell of food hit her as soon as she walked in, and her stomach growled in response. One hand shot to her stomach in a desperate attempt to squelch the sound. 

With searching eyes, she tried to spot her blonde date. Instead of finding the green eyes she expected, she felt a familiar pull across the room. On instinct, she turned towards the source and found a pair of piercing hazel eyes in return. They looked at her with such intensity that her entire body heated.

Suddenly she wasn’t so cold anymore.

“Azriel?” she asked in what was becoming a repeat occurrence.

Without looking away, both stared at each other until a rough voice yelled from across the restaurant “Gwyn! I’m here.”

The mention of her name interrupted her singular focus.

When she returned her gaze towards Azriel, he was back talking to whoever he came to dinner with.

Which wasn’t her business.

She wasn’t jealous of the beautiful brown-haired female sitting across from him. Or the way her hand was positioned on his arm.

It was curiosity that urged her to walk over and introduce herself, but before she could, Troy yelled again, “Gwyn!”

She couldn’t let him wait any longer. As she navigated the crowded space, she finally found his table near the kitchen. With a smile she sat down across from him, skipping the awkward choice between giving a hand, a kiss on the cheek, or a hug. “Hi Troy, how are you?” She asked instead.

Before he could answer, the waiter was there to take her order, “What will it be for the lady?”

She didn’t have to think long, she already browsed the menu online before she came, “One red wine, a cabernet sauvignon if you have it, and a pasta Bolognese please,” she said as she handed the menu back to the young waiter who enthusiastically responded, “Coming right up.”

As soon as the waiter left, the dreaded silence followed. Instead of looking into his eyes she looked at the wood-paneled walls, the couple sitting behind Troy, and the candlelight that slowly flickered on their table. All the while she tried very hard not to look at the table by the bar.

At the devastatingly handsome male.

Who was on a date with someone else?

“This was a mistake,” resounded in her mind, as she took one more look at the male who spoke said them.

Maybe she should move on too.

“How’s the Christmas business treating you?” she asked in a desperate attempt to fill up the silence.

“Good, it keeps us busy,” Troy responded. 

Gwyn forced herself to make eye contact. Forced herself to pay attention to his words, “We got this new shipment that will hopefully be enough for all the customers. Otherwise, we’ll have another Christmasgeddon on our hands.”

She chastised her brain for being distracted. But all she could see were the hazel eyes that gazed at her every couple of minutes.

She found herself sitting up straighter, squaring her shoulders and holding her chin up high.

Why did she care? They called it “a mistake” when they last saw each other. Why was he looking at her? And why was she looking back?

“Gwyn, what about you?”

The mention of her name brought her back to the scene in front of her again.

The date.

Shit, what was his question?

“I’m sorry what did you say?” she asked in an attempt to get back to the conversation.

He asked without any hint of annoyance, “What would you take with you if the world ended today?”

That was a good question. Not too personal but specific enough to find out more about the other person. “Mouse, my cat,” she replied honestly.

He looked at her with such kind and engaged eyes, that it made her stomach drop as guilt overtook every sense. She only heard half of the words that came out of his mouth, and she looked at another male the whole evening. 

She only thought about the other male- with the black suit, obsidian hair, and hazel eyes. During the entre, the main course and dessert. During every sip of wine. And every moment in between.

This was not fair to either of them.

She kept torturing herself with something that could never be, just like she gave Troy false hope for something else that could never be.

“Troy-“ she started to say.

“Oh oh.” He said with a sad smile.

“I knew it was too good to be true. A pretty lady like yourself with a brain like yours and a cat named Mouse?”

Even in rejection, he was perfect. 

Just not for her. The least she could do was to not make him think otherwise.

“It’s not you, Troy, you are amazing. You’re going to make someone very happy one day.”

“Just not you,” he finished her sentence.

“Just not me,” she conceded.

When the waiter walked by Troy gave him his credit card before Gwyn could offer to pay. “Thank you for tonight, Gwyn,” he said instead.

“Thank you,” she said in equal gratitude. 

It was the best first date she could have had. He was kind and respectful. Engaging and understanding.

He just didn’t make her heart skip every time she saw him. Or send a shiver of warmth all over her body every time his gaze lingered too long.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said with a look of sadness mixed with acceptance.

 I’ll see you around,” he said as he took off towards the bathroom.

Gwyn took it as silent permission to leave without making things more awkward for either of them.

One last look at Azriel showed him in deep conversation with the lady across from him. Every fiber of her being urged her to walk over there. But it wasn’t her place, she reminded herself. It was his right to have a life of his own, she thought as “This is a mistake,” resounded in her mind again.

Without looking back, she walked towards the exit as she put her white knitted cardigan on. 

As soon as she got outside, she looked at the vast night sky. One look up sent happiness throughout her body. It always reminded her how small everything was compared to the vastness of the sky.

With a contended smile, she reminded herself tonight was a success, even though her match with Troy was not. She couldn’t help the feeling of pride that blossomed in her chest and followed her steps.

The first thing she wanted to do was call Nesta, who knew she was going on a date and offered to kick “Christmas ass” if needed. Instead of a SOS, she decided to send Nesta a GPS, just in case. “Hey Nesta, I’m just walking home, could you keep me company and follow the location I just sent you?” Just like old times, when they didn't go to sleep until everybody sent their 'I'm home' text.

Gwyn became so entranced in her conversation, that she didn’t see the shadow that followed her too.

Azriel POV

He felt the pull before he saw Gwyn come in. He knew that even if he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off her- just like the first time they met.

She looked stunning in her red dress. The red lipstick she wore made her lips look even fuller, and he couldn't help but think how they would look wrapped around his cock. He quickly pushed away the thought to look at her adorable searching eyes.

Before she found his eyes it felt like he was watching a painting- beautiful yet mysterious. When those luminous teal eyes finally found him, it was like nothing else existed in the world and the whole world faded to black.

Until he heard that annoying male yelling her name, and she looked away and he already missed her eyes on him.

Budget store Thor, he thought as anger rose in his chest and the memory of last night's text popped into his mind. He knew it was happening, but seeing it still made his stomach churn and his hands ball into fists.

As he looked the scene unfold, he wanted desperately to be the one making her laugh, ordering her wine, and making sure she felt taken care of.

The whole night, his eyes found her table as he wondered: what were they talking about? Was she having a good time? Was she cold? Because she looked cold.

He could hardly focus on the business meeting that had him sit in a restaurant at eight p.m. on a Sunday. He had better things to do than to be forced to spend time with someone only because they thought business was better handled outside of the office.

Until he saw that long copper hair and those teal eyes. When he was suddenly grateful for the forced dinner and borderline inappropriate arm touches.

As soon as Gwyn left without Troy, he said goodbye to the brown-haired businesswoman whose name he couldn't remember. “I’ll send you the contracts by 10 pm,” he said as he abruptly stood up and placed three hundred dollars on the table, “This should be enough.”

He didn’t wait for whatever came out of her mouth next. 

He needed to be somewhere else tonight.

When he looked around the restaurant, he saw Troy leave the bathroom, and he wondered why he didn’t accompany Gwyn home- the date must not have gone as well, he must not have learned manners, he was an asshole or an fool. 

Either way, neither applied to him. Maybe the last one. But not in this case.

When Azriel made it to the door, he caught a glimpse of the copper-hair. He was just in time to see her teal eyes full of wonder. He knew that look because he was just as captivated by the sight in front of him.

When he looked closer, he saw her body shivering from the cold and he had to fight every instinct not to run over and cover her body with his coat. All kinds of scum walked the earth nowadays and he could guess every thought in their mind. His hands already balled into fists at the possibility of someone hurting Gwyn.

Just as he was about to walk over to give her his coat, she pulled out her phone, and the sound of her voice faintly carried over to him as she said “Follow...location.”

Even though she could take care of herself, he still needed to make sure she got home safe. His focus was singular and stronger than the urge to breathe. He wouldn’t leave until he saw her walk into her apartment. Until he knew she was safe.

Just as he did last night. As soon as he got his head off his ass and realized the real mistake- his words, not the moment.

[sapphirerubycreates]

Marvin's Night (Spring Senior Year)

Missed Messages AU

Author's Note: Okay, so this is going to be done in parts. I'll reblog as an addition for each. It's one very long scene (~7.2k words), but I don't feel good splitting it up into separate posts, nor having one large thing. So, hope you enjoy this as it comes along (I am so scared to post this). Also fun fact, the working title for this in my doc is "We're just going from memory bitch". This is that scene I re-wrote seven times. As with this entire series, minor details may be different from previous posts cause I am flying by the seat of my pants. I'm working on trying to not do many retcons, but they will happen. Sorry :(

Summary: After a month of being ghosted by Robin, Marvin is finally going to confront her at her final project showcase. Yes it's a shitty thing to do, but he's been through enough shit already. And he needs an answer once and for all if he can be with her (if he ever asked her out) or if he just needs to give up and move on. It's going to be a roller coaster of a night.

Last Friday in April, senior year

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

Marvin had turned it over again and again in his mind. Drafted too many texts that were deleted within minutes of writing them. Hesitated to ask for fear of the answer he didn’t want to hear. It wasn’t until that night he had finally decided he had to man up and see her. (Well, that’s a lie. He was always going to go to support her at the Capstone presentation. Never actually thought of not going. He was just silently loathing his current situation and, by proxy, going there). No dodging him this time. Even if he felt bad about cornering her, he deserved an answer about where they stood.

And even though he wasn’t the one in the limelight, Marvin found himself stuck at his closet. Casual clothes didn’t feel good enough. But he wasn’t supposed to dress up either. Nothing held the right gravity for his dilemma.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late!” Anti yelled from downstairs.

“In a minute!” Marvin yelled back, still paralyzed. Slacks? What about a plain shirt? Why were his jeans so off-putting?

“What is the hold up?” Anti was close now, probably on the other side of the bed.

“It’s stupid,” Marvin answered, the constant inability to do anything besides freeze stirring up his anxiety.

“What is?”

Marvin sighed, placing a hand on the closet door before facing his brother. “I don’t have an outfit.”

Anti’s jovial laugh added insult to injury. This was indeed a very silly problem. Of course he knew that. It just didn’t feel like it right now. “I’m serious.” Unfortunately. 

“I know,” Anti calmed himself down, getting out his last kick of it. “You’re hopeless.”

“Yes, now help.”

Marvin pushed aside the clothes hangers, trying to go back through them again. Maybe something would spark? He looked towards his dresser, expecting Anti to be digging up some obscure t-shirt, but found an empty space instead. Looking around, the room was empty, again. “God-” Marvin cursed under his breath, now angrily rejecting each piece of clothing for a third time.

Then his hair was pushed into his eyes and fabric against his head. “There!”

“Wha?” Marvin grabbed the front of the hat and tipped it up so he could actually see again and moved in front of his mirror. Dark gray fedora with a few specks of glitter that caught the light (glitter that wasn’t intentionally placed on the hat, he was certain).

“It’s a loan, but you look fine now.”

“This is...” Something wretched in his gut. It definitely was far from the unattainable perfect he had wanted, but just... the opposite of great. Felt almost like an insult, even if there was nothing actually objectionable about the hat. Paradoxically discordant between his emotions and reality, considering he’d been loaned this specific hat before and it really did snaz up any outfit.

“We’re gonna be late.” Anti grabbed his brother’s hand and pulled him downstairs. Then, finally, Anti, Marvin, and Jameson got into Anti’s car to drive to the showcase.

First words from Marvin only surfaced about a minute after the engine started. “Thanks, Jameson.” Marvin looks beside him to see the thumbs up from his brother. Jameson waited a few seconds before venturing a question.

“Are you excited?”

Marvin didn’t answer. Couldn’t really. Tonight, he could possibly l–... No, don’t think about it. “I’m sure she’ll do great. It’s her baby after all. Did almost the entire thing.” Jameson nodded encouragingly. “But uh, there’s other cool stuff too. I think one project was legos for skull reconstruction. So, make sure you get a chance to check out everything. Sure wish Henrik coulda come out. He’d probably have had a ball. ... Probably’s gonna have a lot of medical speak. I’ll make sure to stick by, in case you have questions.”

“He’s not a little kid,” Anti interjected. “Besides, I think we all have a good base cause of Hen. He’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” Jameson tried to reassure Marvin. “Just enjoy yourself.”

“Enjoy myself, huh?” Marvin didn’t even know what that was supposed to mean for him at this point.