#like sure maybe his mental state is a little more There but your honor he's killing with fire and it's not for survival it's revenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 months ago

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Words: 3,844 Pairing: Negan x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, after the war, Negan is imprisoned Warnings: language, mild gore (killing walkers) Summary: In lieu of Negan's failing mental health, Michonne looks for options and Y/N steps up to do her share. A/N: This is part 1 of a miniseries (maybe 3?? parts) for Negan that I've been working on! I started it as a one shot, but... you know me lol so here we are! Part 2 will be released next week on Wicked Wednesday! Happy reading! “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem,” Michonne said seriously. You exchanged a glance with Daryl.

“What kind of problem? Like, Annoying Steve is being annoying or a new horror is coming to destroy everything we have and love?” you asked wryly.

Daryl let out an appreciative dry laugh but Michonne remained serious. “Somewhere in the middle, I think,” she said. “It’s about Negan.”

Daryl swore and paced a tight circle. “Course it is. Somehow, it’s still always ‘bout him, ain’t it?” he growled.

Michonne forged ahead. “Gabriel is—fed up with him. There’s no other way to say it. He’s not trying to do anymore counseling and he needs a break. I don’t blame him. He’s taken on everything with Negan since—since Rick—”

You frowned, your brow furrowing as grief roared upwards in all of you. “What exactly is the problem?”

“His mental state is really deteriorating,” Michonne explained. “Being in there by himself all the time, just the odd hour or two outside, no one talking to him—”

“Why should we give a shit?” Daryl asked in a low, dangerous voice. “Ain’t the whole damn point of him bein’ in there so he has to suffer for what he did for the rest of his life? His mental state… Fuck. They fed me one fuckin’ dog food sandwich a day after they shoved me into a fucking closet naked. They —”

You reached over and put your hand on Daryl’s arm before he got further charged up. He stopped abruptly and drew in a long breath.

“I know. I know what he did, but no,” Michonne said. “The point isn’t for him to just suffer. If we do that, we become no better than him.”

Daryl glanced at you and let out an exasperated exhale. “Hell, ya already know what I think about it,” Daryl said firmly. “He shouldn’t even be breathin’ still. ‘M the wrong damn person to ask ‘bout this.”

Michonne sighed and leaned forward on her hands. “I’m just trying to honor Carl and—”

“We know,” you interrupted her quickly. You paused thoughtfully. “I—I can take this on. I’ve dealt with him the least so far out of the three of us. Probably makes it my turn.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “What’re ya gonna do? Rub his back while he cries? Hold his fuckin’ hand? I mean, how do we help somebody like him.”

Michonne shrugged. “A little more conversation to start, I think. He said being alone and the boredom is eating him alive. Maybe we come up with some more things for him to do outside the cell.”

You nodded. “I’ll brainstorm,” you said.

Daryl looked concerned, his eyes flickering over you. “Yer gonna have to be careful. He’s a manipulative asshole. And I dun trust a damn thing ‘bout him. If he can get out, he will. Don’t matter what he’d have to do.”

“I’ll be careful. I’m not an amateur, Daryl,” you said, shooting him a smile.

He nodded, ducking his head. “I know. I just gotta say it.”

“Are you sure?” Michonne asked. “It doesn’t have to be one of us. I can talk to some other people.”

“I’ve got it. I’ll start today. I’ll take him his meals and check on him, make sure he gets some time outside the cell. I’ll take care of it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

Flat on his back, Negan heard the door open and shut but he barely moved. His eyes stayed closed and he heaved a heavy sigh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in some anticipation of annoyance. “Gabey-baby, I am not in the fucking mood for your guidance counselor horseshit today, so why don’t you just turn that tight little toosh around, waltz back out, and leave me the fuck alone…” he said.

“Wow. That was—gross…” you said.

Now, his eyes opened. This was something different. You were different. He swung his legs down and sat on the edge of his cot, his hazel eyes finding you and looking you over. “God Bless America, a change in the fucking monotony,” he said. “Is Gabe still mad at me?”

You approached his cell, tray in hand and nodded. “Yep. In fact, so pissed that he’s officially on vacation from you.”

“Gotta envy that,” Negan quipped. “How do I sign up for one of those?”

“A vacation from yourself?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s in the cards.”

“Damn. It was worth asking.” He seemed to be looking you over again and you rolled your eyes.

“My eyes are up here, Negan,” you joked.

His lips curled into a half-smile. “Sorry. But Gabe isn’t exactly my type and I don’t get much chance to look at anything so—”

“Just stop right there, okay?” you interrupted him. You slid his tray through the slot at the bottom of the door and straightened back up.

But Negan wasn’t interested in his breakfast. “It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You know perfectly well what my name is, Negan,” you countered.

He cocked his head slightly. “You’re right about that,” he admitted. “So, what’s on the agenda?” he asked, finally moving to grab his tray. He returned to his cot and set it on the small side table.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Gabe was always counseling me. Trying to rehabilitate me. Were you a therapist or something in the old world?” He grabbed the small apple and shined it on his shirt before taking a bite.

“No. But we’re perfectly aware that your mental health has taken a nosedive recently,” you said.

Negan let out a low laugh. “And you give a shit?” he asked skeptically. “I nearly fucking destroyed all of you and you’re worried about my mental health?”

You sighed and nodded once, stiffly. “We’re not the same as you, Negan. We’re trying to do better. And Michonne wants to honor Carl’s vision.” You watched as Negan’s face fell. The look in his eyes grew distant and his shoulders slumped slightly.

“Yeah… He was a helluva kid,” Negan said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you replied, taking a seat in the stiff wooden chair set outside his cell. “I watched him grow up from a scared little kid and survive everything this world threw his way. You have no idea what kind of loss that was.”

Negan was looking at you thoughtfully and you were surprised when he didn’t reply, only nodded, and then returned to his apple.

“The agenda is for me to—” you hesitated for a moment. What the hell was the agenda? “For me to help you how I can. I know you’re alone a lot and you probably need some company, a change of scenery every now and then, mental stimulation…”

Negan laughed and smirked. “That’s not the only kind of stimulation I need,” he said.

You glared at him. “Jesus, Negan…” you murmured, rolling your eyes.

“It’s the truth,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not helping you with that. I guess you’ll just have to try your hardest to think back to one of your past six wives,” you sassed.

The grin stayed on his face. “Five,” he corrected you. Then, the smile faded. “But, uh, only the first really counted.” Negan’s head dropped and you watched him curiously.

He was struggling. You’d never sensed so much truth or vulnerability in a single thing that had left his lips.

“I see,” you said.

For some reason, this made him laugh again. “You know, Gabe used to say that all the time. It’s some of that non-value, non-judgement counselor language.”

You stood up suddenly and sighed. “Finish your breakfast. I’m gonna go do a few things and then I’ll be back. We’re gonna get you out of that cell for a while today.” You fixed a stern and perceptive look on him. “If you think you can behave.”

Negan looked curious. “For you? I might.”

You cocked your head at him and looked unamused. “You will, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Negan laughed again and turned back to his food. “Got it.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Why don’t I come with ya?” Daryl asked, watching as you slipped the pistol into your holster.

You looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “You think I can’t handle this?” you asked.

“Not that ya can’t handle it. It’s just—it’s Negan. We all know what he’s fuckin’ capable of,” Daryl said, walking behind you out the front door and across the steps.

“You’re conflating past Negan with Negan now. I just talked to him, and I’m telling you—it’s like he’s been robbed of all his menace and power. He’s been sitting in that cell a long time, Daryl. I don’t think he’s the same and I don’t think he’s going to—to suddenly hit me over the head with a rock or something,” you said.

“But outside the walls? Already? Why dun ya just—just start with somethin’ in here first and see how it goes? That way there are other people around and I can stop by when I can and check in.”

You read the intense concern on Daryl’s face and then nodded. “Alright. We’ll stay in the walls today. But I think part of the problem with him is that he hasn’t seen a single different thing outside in too long. He’s going a little stir crazy in there and I can’t entirely blame him.”

“Yeah, well, he fuckin’ deserves it,” Daryl growled.

“He does. But Michonne is right… we should be trying to be better. Otherwise, we should have just killed him.” You paused, trying to come up with something for him to do that would give him a little exercise and change of pace. “I’ll have him help me clear out that area for the new garden plots. There are some plants to harvest over there anyway before we clear it. It’ll teach him something too.`”

Daryl nodded. “ ‘Kay. I’ll stop by and check in,” he drawled. “Just be careful. Dun let yer guard down.”

“You know I never do.” You turned and headed back toward Negan’s cell.

Negan rose from his seat on his cot, the tray from breakfast sitting empty beside him on the small side table. He watched as you withdrew a ring of keys from your back pocket and fiddled with them a moment as you stood in front of the cell door, eyeing the lock. Was this a good idea?

Negan took a few cautious steps toward you, watching your face intensely. “Am I… getting out on good behavior, warden?” he quipped, flashing you a half-smile. It seemed to draw you back out from your reverie.

“Temporarily,�� you replied, finally fitting the key into the lock and turning it. The metallic clunk was striking. “If you can handle it…” you added.

The pistol on your hip wasn’t lost on Negan. He nodded. “I think so,” he said. “What’re we doing? Hard labor?”

“Not so hard,” you said. “But I would appreciate your help with something.”

Negan froze just after stepping out of the cell and fixed a queer look on you. “Appreciate?” he repeated.

You nodded. “Mhm…”

His eyebrows lifted. “You better be careful with the way you’re talkin’ to me, Y/N. I might just fall in love with you,” he chuckled. “I haven’t felt appreciated in… oh, I don’t know—how long have I been in here?” he asked, brushing a hand back through his hair.

“Didn’t Gabriel speak nicely to you?” you asked, shutting the cell door behind him, giving him a questioning glance.

“Well, sure. Or maybe not nicely. He was at least neutral,” Negan said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I think I ruined that though.”

You shook your head and sighed. “Yeah, he’s not pleased with you, Negan,” you agreed. “Look, this is just a test run. We’re staying in Alexandria today, but eventually… I’d like to get you outside of the walls on occasion.” Negan looked shocked. “Obviously, that’s going to take trust,” you emphasized. “But I think it would do you good.” You hesitated, wondering if you should admit this to him, but you decided it would be good for him to hear it. “You’re not the same as you were when you were locked in here. And—I intend on finding out if you can really be rehabilitated. Not that I’m ever going to forget what you’ve done… but there’s got to be more than this,” you said, gesturing to the cell behind him, “in your future. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“You’ve just explained exactly what has me so depressed,” Negan admitted. “I’ve spent most of the last however many fucking years wishing Rick had just killed me.”

Those words hung in the air like a toxic cloud. You gulped and couldn’t help feeling an ache of compassion at his words. Compassion for Negan. What a peculiar thought… You tilted your head toward the door. “Come on. Follow me and stay close. And let me be perfectly clear; I will shoot you if you try to pull any bullshit,” you emphasized.

He nodded, his expression surprisingly serious. “Got it.”

You led him out into the summer sunshine and walked through Alexandria until you reached the overgrown section near the wall that you planned to tackle for the day. The two of you had gotten plenty of stares as you moved down the street, but you noticed that Negan had mostly kept his head down. His shoulders were somewhat slumped and he made no witty comments on the walk, though you caught him closing his eyes to enjoy the breeze or staring up at the blue expanse of sky overhead multiple times.

He stopped beside you, his hands in his pockets, as you stared at the tall grass and brambles ahead and sighed.

“What’re we doin’, boss?” he asked.

“We’re going to start clearing this area out so eventually we can put in some new garden plots. But there’s a little more to it. We used to have some medicinal plants in here before it got overgrown. I’m hoping to find them and save them for transplanting, so we can’t just start ripping everything out.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what’s medicinal and what’s not?” he asked.

“I’m gonna teach you,” you said confidently.

Negan laughed a little at the assertion. “Look, doll… I was a gym teacher in the old world. ‘Not Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,’” he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. “Wow. That was a deep bench reference,” you said.

He smirked at you. “I was pretty proud of it myself,” he said.

You couldn’t help a dry laugh and small shake of your head. “It’s not that hard. We’ll work together to start and I’ll show you how to identify them. The grasses can all be pulled, but we’ll identify the broadleaf plants and get them ready for transplanting if they’re something we can use.”

Negan looked skeptical but shrugged. “Well, you’re the boss. Not like I’ve got a full schedule,” he said.

“Exactly,” you agreed. There was a reason you weren’t just having him pull all the grass and doing the rest yourself. Negan was smart and not having any mental stimulation was probably contributing a lot to his mental health issues. If you gave him a task that was a little physical and a little mental, you were hoping it’d give him a sense of purpose and productivity.

You got started right away, mainly just pulling the grasses and clearing a large area that remained dotted with forbs. It was summer and the respiration of the plants you were sitting in made the air humid. It wasn’t long before you were wiping at sweat along your hairline and stopping to push wet strands back out of your face. For a while, you worked in silence beside Negan, only speaking to instruct him, but he finally tried to start some conversation on his own.

“So, what the hell did you do in the old world anyway? Were you some kind of plant guru?” he asked, pausing to pull off his gloves for a moment and get a drink from the canteen you’d provided for him.

You paused, standing up to look down at him where he knelt in the grass. He was sweaty too, like you were, and his dark blue shirt was clinging to his back in the heat. “I don’t think I owe you my backstory, Negan,” you said. Your tone wasn’t unkind, but it was a little stern.

“Aw, come on. This is part of that trust-building thing you mentioned earlier,” he said, taking another drink. “I’m just trying to figure you out a little bit,” he said.

You crossed your arms and surveyed him. “So, you can better manipulate me when it’s beneficial to you?” you asked.

“What? No,” he said with surprise, and you almost believed him. “I mean—I currently have no concrete plans to manipulate you…” he admitted, a small bit of jest in his voice. “I’m bored all the time in that fuckin’ cell. I could sure use the conversation. Isn’t that what this is about? My ‘mental health’,” he quoted, shooting an expectant look at you.

You sighed. “What do you wanna know?”

Negan licked his lips and then smiled, thinking about what he wanted to ask, but before he could say a word, bootsteps behind the two of you caused you both to look over to see Daryl standing there.

You went to greet him, pulling off your gloves.

“How’s it goin’?” he asked in an undertone, glancing past you to shoot a glare at Negan.

You shrugged. “Fine. It’s been completely fine so far.”

Daryl nodded, but still looked suspicious. “He ain’t tried anythin’?”

You shook your head, dusting the soil from your gloves. “Nope. We’re just working.”

Daryl nodded, still clearly apprehensive. “Well, s’almost noon. Get him back to his cell by 1 and I’ll bring his meal down,” he drawled.

“I can take care of that,” you offered.

“S’fine. I wanna have a word with him anyway.” He put his hand on your shoulder and gave it a friendly squeeze, giving you a small smile. “Yer doin’ enough for him. Be careful.”

“Okay,” you agreed, nodding. “See you later.”

When you turned around, you noticed Negan had been watching the interaction carefully. There was a thoughtful look on his face, but when you simply returned and got back to work, he joined you again in silence. You continued on for another hour or so, managing to clear quite a wide area by the time you needed to get Negan back to his cell for a late lunch. You walked beside him, both of you now dirty and plenty sweaty, and your hand strayed to the handle of your pistol again absently.

Negan noticed and broke the silence that had stretched for what felt like a long time. “You’re a fuckin’ great shot with that thing,” he said, nodding toward the gun.

“What?” you asked, turning to look at him, puzzled.

“I said, ‘you’re a great shot’,” he repeated. You still looked confused. “I noticed… during the war,” he said. “I mean—I noticed you but also your aim.” You stared at him, your brow furrowed. “You almost blew Simon’s fuckin’ head off,” he said with a laugh. “If he hadn’t flinched at the last second…” Negan let out a low whistle.

“How’d you know that was me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Like I said, I noticed you.”

You looked… unsettled? Uneasy? Negan couldn’t quite define it, but there was some sort of tension in the air as you walked him back the rest of the way and finally locked him inside his cell again.

He gripped onto the bars and watched you turn away before he managed to get your name out. You turned toward him again, the high arch of your brow inquiring. “Thanks,” he said. “For today. It was the best fuckin’ day I’ve had in a while,” he admitted.

You gave him a baffled look. “I made you work outside in the sun all morning,” you laughed.

“Yeah… but I wasn’t alone. And I’ve had waaaaay worse company. Just—even if you decide you can’t do more than today, I want you to know that it mattered to me. Thanks.”

That look was on your face again, some mix of surprise and bewilderment. Finally, you sighed. “Daryl’s gonna bring you lunch. I’ll see you later, okay, Negan?”

He nodded, still gripping onto the cold, iron bars of his cell, and watched you walk out.

A short time later, Negan had washed his hands and splashed cool water from his basin over his face, dabbing at it with his small scratchy towel, when he heard the door open again. He looked up to see Daryl coming in with a tray of food and a scowl. He set it down by the slot at the bottom of the cell door and pushed it roughly through with the toe of his boot, almost spilling the water cup. Daryl’s expression didn’t change. It was stony and guarded.

Negan eyed him and then wandered over to grab the tray. He did feel hungry for once, something that had been rare for quite some time. When he straightened up, Daryl’s blue eyes were narrow and stinging.

Negan grabbed the apple off his tray and took a big bite. It was sweet and crunchy, satisfying and refreshing after being in the sun all morning. “Something on your mind, Daryl?” Negan asked, a faint smile on his lips.

Daryl stepped closer, right up to the bars. “Yeah. One thing. If ya fuck up, if ya try to hurt Y/N, if ya pull anythin’ I dun like, I don’t give a shit what Michonne or anybody else is tryin’ to do—I don’t give a shit about your rehab, I’ll put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Got it?”

That smile was still on Negan’s face, annoying the shit out of Daryl.

“I mean it, Negan. Ya hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said, taking another bite.

“Good,” he growled, and the archer left.

#negan smith x reader #negan fanfiction #negan series #negan smith #negan imagines #negan drabbles #wicked wednesday #negan smith x you #negan x y/n #negan fics #the walking dead #negan twd

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paraliveimaginesblog · 1 year ago

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Hi!! Can you write the reactions of Yohei, Iori, and Yuto walking in on their crush changing? (Maybe their crush is nonchalant/flirty about it too-) Thank you!!

Iori Suiseki:

Iori was never one to let emotion show on his face, even when he was embarrassed, he could manage to brush things off with an easy-going smile. It was an honor to throw him off balance for once, and you’re even more pleased that it’s the sight of your naked form that does it. The movements are quick but it’s the way his eyes dart up and down your body, taking the mental note for later, that has the cute little smirk (as Iori would call it) plastering itself on your face. You had to ask if he liked what he saw, head tilted as Iori politely kept his gaze averted yet still didn’t exit the room. He responded with a question of his own, asking if you wanted him to be honest, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You did have an appointment to make which was why he had burst in to begin with, but perhaps you’d invite him to your room later to continue the conversation, promising that you wouldn’t be the only one in your birthday suit by the end of it.

Yohei Kanbayashi:

Yohei was normally more polite than this, hardly intruding in your personal space but this was a special case. He was worried about some issue with Ryu, knowing he was in a fragile state at the moment, and he wanted your opinion on how to approach the situation to get him to open up, so he wasn’t exactly in his right mind when he entered your room without knocking. You’re stunned into silence as Yohei started to talk right away, his eyes at his feet as an unlit cigarette dangled between his lips; you’re thankful he hadn’t lit it up as there’d be a nice burn hole in your carpet if he had, the object falling to the ground when he made eye contact with you. His eyes burned into yours, proof that he was using all his willpower to not look down, but you weren't helping things when you crossed your arms under your chest or the way you stayed naked despite his intrusion. It wasn't his place to demand you put clothes on so he mumbled he needed to talk to you downstairs, slamming the door upon his exit from your room.

Yuto Inukai:

Yuto lets out a high-pitched scream almost as if you had walked in on him, causing you to respond with a scream of your own because what if he saw something that you needed to be scared of?! You’re so busy trying to figure out what his problem is that you don’t realize you’re still naked in front of him until he’s crouched on the ground, eyes covered as he stuttered and begged you to put your clothes on. It takes another second for you to put the pieces together, your incessant giggling making Yuto feel even more nervous than before; you leaned down near him after gathering your clothes, making sure to get nice and close to his ear before whispering that was after hours activities once he tucked his convicts in at night. You decided to change in the bathroom instead as it didn't seem like his legs would be working anytime soon, but you did hope he took you up on his offer.

#Paradox Live #Paralive #Paradox Live Imagines #Paralive Imagines #Paradox Live x Reader #Paralive x Reader #Yuto Inukai #Yohei Kanbayashi #Iori Suiseki #Yuto Inukai x Reader #Yohei Kanbayashi x Reader #Iori Suiseki x Reader

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shingekinomyfeelings · 1 year ago

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what you really are // installment 3

Reiner finds that his first sexual encounter with a girl he truly cares for brings up a lot of memories and conflicted emotions. Sure, he's an idiot, but she kind of is, too.

warnings: still none quite yet; explicit sex in later installments. does the implication of Reiner's mental state beginning to break apart count as a trigger? idk. Minors dni why aren't you out catching tadpoles or something?

notes: She is a little bit silly, but just a little. Bertholdt appears in this one and he's just as a joyful and carefree as Reiner. everything's gonna turn out fine for them I bet

I'm reposting this because I added a sentence to make Reiner a little more embarrassing I'm sorry

She’s happy that I’m just a regular person like the rest of them, huh?

Hands in his pockets, Reiner walks the old dirt path between the training grounds and the showers at an easy pace, his eyes shifting to her back now and then. She’s a short ways ahead, talking with the other cadets about something. She barely seems winded from the day’s exercises, but she’s taken off her jacket and from here he can really appreciate the way the muscles in her arms have become more defined in recent months. The thought crosses his mind that her thighs and stomach must look supple and toned, too...

That annoying heat prickles at his cheeks again and he stuffs his hands deeper into his pockets and lowers his head a little, like he’s hiding his thoughts from the world.

How many regular 18 year-old males falter like this when their girlfriend says she wants to have sex for the first time? he asks himself dryly.

She hasn’t said so explicity, of course, she’s just a little too shy for that; but she has told him, in a soft and adorably halting voice, that if he wants to go a little further with her, he can ask, and, well, she won’t say no...

He has to take a deep, deep breath when he thinks about that conversation. She’d sprung that one on him several nights ago when she was reclining serenely in his arms while they watched the reflections rippling on the lake, and... well, something else also immediately sprang up, and he’d spluttered some idiotic response that even he found puzzling.

"That sounds... like... a smart way to do things. I'll be sure to remember it!"

She’d been silent for half a minute and then said, “Huh. Okay,” and the conversation just hadn’t really picked up again since.

Really dropped the ball on being roguishly charming there, Reiner. He sulked a little as the memory replayed itself every three minutes, or every time he set eyes on her, sometimes imagining the bemused expression that might have been on her face.

That was the plan, right? Wait until just the right moment, give her a soft little smirk, maybe run your thumb across her cheek real gently, and say something irressistable like... Well, he hadn’t actually come up with that part yet, but he was sure it would come to him when the time was right and be so provocative and winning that she’d melt into his arms and let him take her on the spot. Who’d have thought she’d beat him to the punch with something so endearingly awkward and unconsciously demure? It was borderline criminal.

And why didn’t he look her softly in the eyes and tell her he’d be honored? Heck, the moment was so simple and sweet and honest, it actually made a bit more sense than his plan to find the ideal instant in which to throw the whole ‘gentlemanly lecher’ routine at her. Would she even have liked that?

He rubs his palm across his face, glad that she’s currently too distracted to notice him silently berating himself.

How the hell is it that she makes me feel so completely confident about some things and so damn confused about so many more?

He pulls himself together long enough to flash her a gawkish smile when she looks over at him and gives a tiny smile and wave before she ducks into the girls’ showers.

Hell, maybe other, regular guys are this awkward. He sighs as he walks into the boys’ showers to clean up. It’s not like I know much about being a regular guy...

“Reiner... You’re not a soldier, remember? You’re a warrior.”

Bertholdt’s voice was resolute and a little pained, barely above a whisper. They had been standing together on the deck outside the mess hall that overlooked the common grounds. Reiner was watching her down there, fending Sasha away from a bit of fruit she’d saved from breakfast. Sasha was hounding her to trade it for some unspecified future favor, but it didn’t seem to work, because even from a distance he could hear her voice turning into a whine. He didn’t even realize he’d been smiling until Bert’s interjection shook his attention away. He blinked at the taller boy for a moment as if confused, then looked somber.

“I know that. You don’t have to tell me all the time.”

Bert didn’t quite believe him that he doesn’t need to be told from time to time, but he knew better than to get into that right then. He watched the other cadets, too, allowing himself just a bit of a smile when Connie seemed to join Sasha unsuccessfully in her negotation attempts. Then Reiner had broken the silence with a a very thin, dispirited tone that Bertholdt almost didn’t recognize.

“And they’re not devils, are they? They’re regular people...” How long ago had she said those words to him? A week? Two? He’d lost track...

Bertholdt had looked at his friend with slight startlement. Of course it was no secret to him or Annie that Reiner had known that since they first came here and saw the undeniably human suffering and enduring will to live that inhabited this island, but hearing Reiner admit as much out loud for the first time was both unexpected and worrying. He paused for a long time before he answered, his own voice bleak and conveying an understanding he wished none of them had ever come to share.

“Yeah. They’re regular people. None of them deserve this. She doesn’t deserve this. But we don’t have a choice. We’re gonna have to finish what we started at some point...”

Reiner’s sun-gold eyes had dimmed a little, like he’d hoped for a different answer. He looked down at the others, at her chewing thoughtfully on an apple as she watched Sasha and Connie now bickering between themselves. She – all of them, really, but she especially – looked so warm, and so alive.

And since that moment, the racing, whirling deluge of contradicting thoughts in Reiner’s mind had become quite deafening.

#reiner #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #cadet Reiner!#Reiner embarrassing himself just a little!#Reiner feeling the weight of unassuageable guilt as he contemplates the way he murdered all those people!#hey Bertholdt feels shitty about it too #just two boys talking about boy things

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mintymonicaa · 1 year ago

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The Pool Party (Preview)

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader (she,her pronouns AFAB) Word Count: 1,688 Summary: A party is thrown in your honor before you move out of state. Leon falls in the misfortune of being your next target. (The full thing will be posted on AO3, for now this is a preview to see how many people are interested in this. It's a slow burn and also the reader is toxic.)

It was your final day here, your last day with your parents. Your father, he decided to give you a final party for you. Since you finished your two years of college, and were soon to move out of state. He invited a lot of his friends over, and one of them stood out to you. He was a bit younger than the rest of your dad's friends but still older than you. No more than 7-10 years older than you. Leon would stare at you occasionally but you noticed that his stares would linger a bit. It wasn't his intention, he was examing everyone in the room, not just you.

You were a depraved young woman, Leon was far more innocent than you unfortunately. He was drinking out of a red cup, a drop of the alcohol fell onto his chin, then it went down to his throat. You stared at him, from across the room. You couldn't help it, it felt like that small drop of alcohol was guiding you, telling you where to look at him exactly.

Your father came up to you, snapping you from your depraved thoughts. Leon was clueless that you were practically lusting over him , you saw his taller figure move up to you as well. Your father did a quick introduction of the two of you and then left to go to his other friends. Leon was shirtless and you had a better look of him. His nice blue eyes and blonde hair, he had a bit of a stubble on his chin. Looks like he hadn't shaved in a while, maybe a couple of days.

Leon awkwardly smiled at you and glanced back at your father, he didn't know what to say or how to strike up the conversation. Since Leon was such a social butterfly and an expert at making conversations. He said,

"So...you're graduating soon kiddo?"

Leon said to you in a bit of a sheepish smile, he felt like he was doing great at conversating with you. It was awful, but a part of you was happy. It was really odd to see such a beautiful man have very little social skills. It made you want to play with him a bit, sorta like teasing a cat with cat nip.

"I already graduated" you responded in a neutral tone, it made him fidget with his hands a bit. He felt like he was messing up the conversation.

"Oh! I thought you were in...highschool? My apologies", Leon responded back to you, the final part was a bit more silent. His large chest moved up and down slowly because he exhaled in a bit of frustration.

"I'm in college...Leon was it?" You responded back, Leon assumed you were younger.

Leon looked a bit embarrassed and mentally gave himself a slap because of that. He didn't mean to insult you, after all, you were the daughter of his good friend.

"I didn't mean to insult you-" Leon got cut off by you, you placed a finger on his mouth. This shocks him, he looks over your shoulder and he saw that you were alone with him. He backed up a bit, and looked you up and down in confusion. Leon thought you were really pretty but he would never act on any of the thoughts he was having because he found them inappropriate. Something you need to understand from Leon is that he has a heart of gold. Something you need to understand about yourself is that you're evil.

"You know...I noticed you staring at me a lot, Leon"

This catches him off guard, you tilted your head and made full eye contact. He doesn't know what to say, he was staring at you but not because of the reason you thought......was it? No, he would never..

"Was I? I didn't notice....hey? Why don't we go inside? I'm sure everyone has gone inside by now"

There's a silence, it's very awkward. Leon doesn't know what to do, he thinks that you're flirting with him. You are, but he's telling himself that there's no way you would do that. Especially on the first day of his meeting the daughter of one of his work friends. You were 19-20 and Leon was 8 years older than you. He knew that, so he should go inside and try to ignore whatever you were trying to do. Instead, he stayed put, your eyes felt like they were anchoring him down. He stayed silent and waited for you to say something.

"I wanna go in the pool and play a bit more....join me" You grabbed his hands, they were much larger than yours. They had callouses, and some scars here and there. He was shirtless, so you saw how his chest was going up. You were making him a bit nervous. He doesn't understand how forward you're being but he allowed it. He glanced back at the house behind him, almost as if he was hesitant.

"Hey don't worry...we're just going to play silly," You said to Leon, your voice teasing him a bit. He let himself be guided by you, well if it's just playing, it's fine right? He thought to himself.

You were wearing a white long sundress, he couldn't make out your figure at all. At most he saw your arms and your neck, your face was really pretty. You slowly stepped inside of the water, still grabbing onto his hands. He followed you inside, and he noticed that when you stepped inside of the water, the dress you were wearing became see through a bit. You ducked inside of the water and he looked around, he saw your figure under the water swim across to the middle. Then you jumped back to the surface and he saw your body. A clear and visible blush formed on his face, he looked away at first and then glanced back slowly as if he was trying to gain permission from you.

"What exactly did you want to do with me?" He asked, he saw your bikini underneath. The folds of the dress completely stick to your body, he would try to only look at your face. Small beads of the pool water stuck in between your eyelashes, your hair sticking to your cheeks and neck. It didn't matter where he looked at you, you looked good. Too good in this moment, you looked so sensual and alluring to him. He was trying his best to keep it together, the cold water barely controlling his hot skin.

Then you splashed him with the water, your giggles were the only thing he could focus on. They were echoing in his head, when he felt that sudden splash of water. He snapped back to reality and felt more playful, he was beginning to have fun with you.

“Hey! You're gonna pay for that!” He playfully shouted, his muscles were all wet now. He pushed his hair back, it gave him a sleeker look. His mouth began to shift, and he smiled at you. It was a smirk, a playful one. The way he looked made you feel things you knew were wrong and you loved it. You always loved doing these types of things, it was about the thrill. He was a little eye candy to you and you just made him look all the better for you. You blushed.

“Yeah right! As if you can catch me!” You said to him in a taunt. He looked very physically fit, more than capable enough to catch a small thing like you. He just shook his head and smiled at you and gave you a look, a “Oh really?”, type of look. This is good, you’re making him lose his control. A bit more and maybe you’ll get lucky. You were basically pushing his buttons.

“We’ll see about that little lady”, he responded a bit snarky. He licked his lips because he felt a bit adventurous now. You kept swimming away, and when he got too close, you would go under the water and escape from him again. You would splash him a lot, at this point the both of you were soaked. You were planning on stretching out this game of cat and mouse, he was beginning to grow frustrated seeing you escape every time

Once again, you went under the water. You were planning on getting away and teasing him more but Leon has had more than enough of you taunting him. He sees you go under the water and he goes under neath too, he stretches his strong arms out to you and grabs you. Your entire body was locked in place, you couldn't move an inch because of him. In a way, it started to make you throb. If you weren’t in the pool, it would be noticeable how wet you were.

Both of you were inside of the water, seconds passed by and then you got a bit more bold than him. Sure he grabbed you, he was practically hugging you but you found your way to his lips. You kissed him.

You felt Leon kiss back, it wasn't rough. He was being gentle and he was enjoying how your lips felt, Leon had a moment of realization. He was kissing you and liked it, so he pulled away. He went back up and so did you, both of you swimming above the water and Leon stared at you with a shocked expression. He was even more shocked that he actually kissed you and for a second…he enjoyed it. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking a bit, and he still felt you on his lips. He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration and backed away. He started to walk out of the pool.

“Hey wait! Leon!” You shouted in confusion. He can’t even look at you because of how intense his desire is at this moment. So he’s doing what he believes is the best option right now, leaving you. Before things get too heated, he shouldn’t have gotten too excited because of one simple peck. It just felt so romantic to him.

Authors Note: First, I want to say that this is going to be a story filled with angst. The reader is aware at how emotionally vulnerable Leon is, how awkward he is and how much of a genuine and sweet person he is. She is going to take advantage of that. This is a very sexual story but just realize that the reader IS evil. So it's going to be very spicy but Leon is gonna be in pain a lot.

#leon x reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil smut #leon scott kennedy #leon imagine #reader insert #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy smut #angst

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gravityknife · 2 years ago

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Adventures of The 144p Progenitor

Story #2

"Go lower level this time again, guys," Ka'eo insisted.

Peter said, "Alright."

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"Uhh, so— why are we here?" Peter asked uncomfortably.

"Who's uncomfortably?" Asked the Shade in the form of a grievous denier. Peter ignored it and it faded itself away into a nearby ventilation shaft in the safe room.

"Uhh, Peter, remember when I was talking to you about— how Ka'el gets angry about dumb sh$t like one solar system in his control being taken? Yeah, he isn't going to give us— access to his planets, Peter. After he takes them, he doesn't want to give anyone any. That's why I'm saying to take the planets available now before we–," Mana began to explain.

"No, Mana, it's because he wanted to make sure all of his solar systems in his corner were organized," Peter defended, subtly jabbing.

"Okay, Ka'el-uh, Peter, wait! So, we should take the planets and solar systems or whatever now before we go out into space because, if not, then we have to share all of it or he just takes it all for himself," Mana explained, sounding very grounded in his thinking. "You didn't see how he reacted when I took ONE solar system from his control after I had JUST helped him?!"

"No, yeah, I saw that, but he did it because he wanted to keep everything in his side of the map ordered," Peter defended again, though withholding his thoughts to himself. He felt similarly to Ka'eo, so he was in a tug-of-war state with the idea of prospect accumulation vs. a sense of honor to himself and Ka'eo.

"Peter, he f$cking owned like— half of the f$cking map already. We barely had anything!" Mana debated. "And, no, f$ck him, because he was hailing me for help in a war he started with that b$tcha$$ empire, then he made it like I didn't help send any of my ships!"

"Yeah, I remember that. And your whole armada got wiped out by the enemy," Peter teased, cackling.

"Peter, no, seriously," Mana confined in the conversation.

"He had more units there than you," a Shade intervened, tumbling within the walls until it was about the same height as Mana and Peter.

Peter was staring at the wall with his eyes wide, looking around the safe room as though he were Chef Gordon Ramsay and they were in a kitchen nightmare. He was disgusted with everything around him, and to be fair, the place was not very well-kempt.

"Peter, uh-Ka'el, I mean," Mana sighed and shook his head in frustration. "Peter, do you get— what I'm trying to say?"

"Yeah, I get it. I don't know. Maybe you should talk to him about it first, and we can, each of us— actually, yeah, each of us can just choose a solar system off the map to explore and then do trade based on— our actual creation of empires and not just a war for resources."

"Yeah, we could. But— I don't know," Mana said, unamused, and thinking Peter doesn't have the balls to go up against Ka'eo, I guess, or he's just being a little b$tch about it.

Peter could hear through Mana's disappointment. He appeased, "I mean, Mana, you could just ask him, when we go back up again, ask Ka'eo if he'd be willing to keep trade open or if you could have something that he doesn't need." Mana sighed to Peter's bartering. "If we do actually get multiple outposts opened up on every planet we explore, it's not like Ka'eo is going to need all of those outposts. We were in a war at that time, so I think that's why he was like that."

Mana sighed and groaned, "No. Whatever, Peter, Ka'el— Peter."

Peter asked, "Why not?" He was thinking loudly to himself, so as to protect the honor of their brotherhood and his own self-interests: Why is Mana always wanting to one-up, Ka'eo? I mean, if he has such a problem with him, why are they still friends? Why have they been friends this whole time if he's going to feel like Ka'eo just takes everything from him? He takes what he can from the enemy. I don't understand. I mean, I get it, I just don't see why he can't resolve it peacefully.

Mana could feel Peter's mentality shielding his own self-interest and decided to give up per the usual. Though, he figured he would be able to ignore the possibility of losing out on more, and Ka'eo taking all the spoils of exploration and war, if they were teamed up and Ka'eo exhibited his cooler, fairer side of personality.

Mana felt Ka'eo's mental energy surging toward him through Peter's judgment. Peter stood his ground on the matter, and Mana did feel that the universe was a lot larger than a few solar systems, at that point.

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"Welcome back," Ka'eo pledged warmly. "You two were under for a little less than an hour. How do you feel?"

"Like— shet— Ka'el," said Mana.

Ka'eo instantly felt a change in courses, that perhaps the best route was one that could be agreeable on survival terms. To Ka'eo, doing things the right way on the journey would be easy, because he viewed friendship more like an open family with the added lesson of forgiveness, encouraging positivity. He felt, from Mana, that Mana was steeply interested in not being tested, in terms of what could be forgiven and what could slide.

"Mana, don't worry about it," said Ka'eo, as though speaking for Peter, telepathically mirroring.

Mana felt discouraged, yet remembered he was on a brand new ship, still with old friends who didn't invade him nor harm him in purpose of severity. He retired from the Memory Core Simulator room and went up to his living quarter.

"Alright, I'm going up to eat, then to sleep," said Mana.

"Oh, you're leaving already?" Asked Peter, chuckling uncomfortably. "Fine, you f$ck zone."

"Yeah. Night," Mana relented, leaving the room.

"Ka'eo, this room is— incredible," Peter proclaimed, surprised, practically entranced by the event.

#Youtube

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pterodactylterrace · 7 months ago

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So you really don’t understand that hearing it from someone else makes it secondhand. He did not witness it himself. I was explaining to you that hearing it from his spies makes it secondhand as he did not witness it himself.

Love how we go straight to “must be a misogynist”. Is it really that hard to keep it about the fictional story? I’m simply stating facts. There have been 0 records of a woman taking multiple husbands. This is referenced in GOT. I’m not being a misogynist. I’m stating a fact. Saera was ultimately sent to the silent sisters for that very remark.

Why should I have just one husband? The Conqueror had two wives, and Maegor had six or eight.” She had gone too far. Jaehaerys rose to his feet and descended from the Iron Throne, his face a mask of rage. “You would compare yourself to Maegor? Is that who you aspire to be?” His Grace had heard enough. “Take her back to her bedchamber,” he told his guards, “and keep her there until I send for her again.”

So I’m gonna go ahead and say her suggesting to take multiple spouses like Maegor was an overall bad decision, and ultimately never happened.

I gave you a solid example of Daemon not caring about what Jace says. Steamrolled him. Just like he will to get his sons on the throne after him.

When did I say he hated Luke? Canonically it’s spelled with a k, by the way. Would you like the quote? He doesn’t have to hate Luke to want him out of the way. He loves Rhaenyra yes? He fucking choked her. That’s what he does to someone he loves. It’s not a stretch to infer Daemon would have orchestrated some accident. Viserys jokes about this in the show. I don’t recall anyone saying Daemon wouldn’t do it. Just that no one was saying that.

I’ll go ahead and quote the book as far as blood and cheese is concerned.

Though Blood and Cheese had spared her life, Queen Helaena cannot be said to have survived that fateful dusk. Afterward she would not eat, nor bathe, nor leave her chambers, and she could no longer stand to look upon her son Maelor, knowing that she had named him to die.

It is canonical that Helaena only survived in a physical sense. She was left a shell of a woman. Death felt like an improvement to her. I’m not making things up for funsies. I’m telling you how it is described in the book. Why are you saying I’m calling Daemon a dragon dreamer for explaining how it is described in the book? Maybe in GRRM’s mind Daemon was a dragon dreamer, but he didn’t want to Mary sue him, so he didn’t state it outright.

Idk what to tell you. I was too lazy to scroll up and copy and paste; autocorrect got the best of me. I made sure to use copy and paste for every quote this time. Scouts honor! ☺️

So by mentioning blood and cheese I was giving you an act Daemon was too cowardly to do himself. He knew the keep as well as cheese. Enough to know it was possible at least. But he was too cowardly to do it himself, so he had someone else do it? I mean… you just kind of proved my point. Daemon believed Helaena and her children needed to be taken care of. He was too cowardly to do it himself. He sent two thugs to do it while he was at Harrenhal.

Cheeky little tags! I’m living in your head rent free. I’m sorry. That sounds horrible. I honestly forgot you existed until you decided to go read more of my stuff.

Sorry I mentioned things that happened in the show. I thought it was agreed upon that the book is inaccurate history from unreliable sources and that is why the show doesn’t have to follow the book to the letter. They can add things, change things, make things up and it is still cannon because we are watching what actually happened without unreliable narrative. If it’s strictly about the history book, then you probably should have picked up on the direct references. I may not like Daemon, but I’m giving you direct reasons as to why I came to my conclusions. It does say something that you attributed it up to me doing mental gymnastics when it’s just relaying the information from the book and giving my opinion on the given information. Blink twice if you need help.

B&C and Helaena discourse is on a rise and yall know that's my roman empire so i WILL be giving my two cents (for the thousandth time😼)

First off, B&C

I see a lot of people claiming B&C was the Greens fault, but when you take a second to think you will see that nothing the Greens did as a whole caused B&C. It simply would not have happened if Aemond (1 singular green) had not killed Lucerys for taking his eye. (i believe this excuse comes more from a "well you reap what you sow this is what you get for usurping rhaenyra" mindset rather than thinking ALL the greens are directly to blame for B&C but whatevs) People argue it was Aegon's fault, too, because he celebrated Luke's death with a feast, but that's actually a headcanon. F&B states Aegon celebrated Luke's death, but it skips over any offense it caused Rhaenyra and Daemon. It only says that after learning of Luke's DEATH (not the feast) Daemon sends a letter telling Rhaenyra Luke would be avenged. It was not the feast it was the boy's death that led to B&C.

People also have been saying B&C was necessary and it simply wasn't. Jaehaerys was entirely unrelated to any issue regarding Luke, therefore it wasn't even really avenging him. Luke wasn't actually avenged until Aemond (his killer) died. B&C was not necessary to avenge Luke—it was more of an intimidation tactic on Daemon's behalf.

As for Helaena, people are saying she should've taken her kids, flown to Dragonstone, and bent the knee as per Rhaenyra's peace terms.

That's kind of just dumb lol. Rhaenyra's terms were not individual, she wanted ALL of her siblings to go to her and bend the knee, not just one. If Helaena went to Dragonstone by herself, Aegon would still be Rhaenyra's enemy. Helaena and her children, Aegon's heirs, would become high profile hostages.

Also, Helaena is the queen of the Green Faction. She was crowned by Alicent alongside Aegon. Nothing in F&B implies she's NOT in support of Aegon. If anything, she's passive. She councils him against his stupidity, but that doesn't mean she's a secret supporter of Rhaenyra.

The Greens also happen to be her closest family. Her mom and brothers—people she grew up with. If I remember correctly, she used to visit Alicent in the Tower of the Hand with her children every night. She and Aegon shared a bed until her son was killed. She was described as a happy girl, and if she was miserable, she still clearly held love for her family.

Rhaenyra, however, is a stranger to her. Not just a stranger, but also someone that would mock her mother and her siblings at court.

She had no reason to go to Rhaenyra when the war began.

People are also quite weird about the topic of her suicide, but seeing as suicide is a real issue in a way that usurping, sending assassins after a child, and feeding a boy to a dragon are NOT I won't address that. You are weird if you be laughing about suicide tho ngl.

FINAL PSA: A lot of yall like to go "I love Helaena, she so sweet and gentle and innocent and kind and cute and she's the only green I love BUT..." Yall dont like Helaena and yall CAN admit it. She's a fictional character you dont have to pretend to like her just because you have a moral superiority complex.

#daemon targaryen #why does the truth make people so grouchy?#HOTD critical?

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tartagliaxx · 2 years ago

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。BUT EVEN JUPITER HAS BOUTS OF MERCY

━━ INCLUDES: albedo, diluc, tartaglia, xiao

━━ SUMMARY: for the first time in years, jupiter budged from his flux — his storms softening into one that might welcome room for optimistic outlooks for the future; or his point of view in the events that transpired, plus what happened after you confronted him, learning that all this time, the relationship you valued was a mere ploy in order to escape his admirers

━━ CONTAINS: fake dating!au, modern!au, highschool!au (albedo), college!au (xiao), language (childe and xiao), dubious mental states, questionable scientific and philosophical themes + others, alcohol mention (non-consumption), open-ended?

━━ PREREQUISITE: jupiter was cruel

。 ALBEDO — “ princeps cretaceus | chalk prince ”

before you, albedo never really cared much about social interaction nor did he see any point in interacting with his classmates when they were unlikely to give any useful feedback about his research. it wasn't as if he thought of himself as someone above other people because there was a time when he stood by the swings of a playground, watching and wishing he was one of the people who ran away from the seeker in a game of hide-and-seek. it's not exactly a big deal as every child goes through a rather playful phase while growing up but the five-year-old albedo struggled to fit inside the world he looked upon with wonder.

he was older now and that desire to belong has evaporated as he found through trial-and-error that he was perfectly fine as he is. faint traces of contentment flickered inside his bright, curious eyes as one by one, likeminded individuals drew close to him like birds of the same species and genus flocking together. social interaction was far from his strongest suit, especially when it's not with sucrose or his senior, timaeus, but it was a task he did nevertheless for the sake of his academic pursuit. at the very least, he had the company of the wonderful strangeness of science and for that alone, he was able to pour dozens of sleepless nights reading through piles of full-text articles that always left the right amount of his curiosity sated and the right amount of questions that would leave him wanting more. the most recent conclusion he had was about himself. he was happy being the quiet honor student that nobody quite knew. he was content that he already has plans for the future, no matter how loose: a degree in biological sciences and if he was lucky, then maybe he'd chance upon a world-changing discovery. if not, well, it wasn't as if that was a priority for albedo believed himself to be relatively simple and old-fashioned — just a kid who wanted to learn so much more.

when he was eight-years-old, a child the same age as he approached him by the swings — his spot. they told him that he looked like he was feeling down and he wondered how they came to that conclusion when he had always worn a creepily emotionless face (as referred to by a bully in his class). they simply shrugged saying that some things didn't need an explanation because you just know and it was then that he realized that there was so much to learn from that person.

that was the last interaction he had with them and he wished it wasn't. he still remembered the way the tiny snickers bar fit in his tiny hands — a little something they gave to cheer him up. he never got to say thanks. he’ll be sure to do so, if he ever got the chance to meet them again but even albedo doubts that strange forces would make their paths cross again after ten years.

on his senior year, he was seated beside a face quite familiar and it took him two days of pondering to figure out that the stranger from his childhood now sits beside him in class. it was a curious turn of events and he was suddenly the same eight-year-old boy who struggled to strike up a conversation.

he knew you to be a quiet kid who no one dislikes. you’re always ready to lend your notes that were sometimes hurriedly scrawled with a regular ballpoint pen and sometimes decorated with pops of color from your assortment of highlighters. you sat with your friends at lunch, keeping to yourself like you all shared a bubble separate from the rest of the world. he never managed to catch your name, just that you and he interacted before and he remains to look back on it fondly.

he was observant so it was easy to see that your attention was easily stolen by a familiar shape on the clouds or something similar. you also procrastinated on science projects a lot and you would pull all-nighters the day before the deadline. you don’t think twice before lending him a pen when his ran out of ink while doing his experiment notes and you’re pretty observant yourself, giving him another snickers bar when he got caught up in astronomical research.

the next day, he was wondering what to say to you after staying up all night chastising himself for not saying thank you before you left. in no time, the bell rang and you were packing your things. it was… quite embarrassing to look back on and he said the first thing that came into his mind when he saw that you were stepping away from your desk.

“blood moons could be refreshing to look at,” he says before realizing just how awkward it was to randomly spout science trivia and averting his gaze to fake writing something on his notebook. he could feel your confused stare on his form for a brief second before you ultimately left, leaving him to regret his god awful social skills.

ah… he forgot to say thanks again…

the next day, he spots the dark circles under your eyes and he wondered if you managed to complete the paper for your biology class on time. actions speak louder than words, he thinks as he slid a snickers bar to your table just as you had done before for him. he expected a little mumbled thanks or even a polite rejection but perhaps, he kept his head low too much for him to recognize the array of surprises his seat mate offered.

"in a lunar eclipse, the earth's atmosphere scatters most of the blue light which causes the remaining light to reflect on the moon with a red glow."

he found himself amused and a strange weightless feeling makes his heart spur. he doesn’t know what to reply but he realized that he just so happened to have his book about observed celestial events with him that day so that was what he slid over to you before you part ways.

interactions with you were limited to small things like that for a long while but he knew better. his seat mate, whose name he now knows after you introduced yourself thinking he never noticed you before, was more observant than he assumed. you weren’t the most sociable person to ever exist but you handle conversations well enough. it might be just him and the strange haze that overcomes him every time you talked but he can’t help but believe that you enjoyed and appreciated your interactions with him just as much.

he lacked the social skills that could deem him charming so it came to a surprise when a stranger approached him once more while he was walking home from a convenience store run. this time without the kind undertones of your gaze or the subtle mischievous lilt of your voice. it wasn't you and for a brief moment, he realized that it was only you who made social interactions a little less tedious than they actually were.

the stranger had sickly pale skin and an equally sick smile that had his mind flashing red in even intervals. the human instinct for danger caused the hairs on his skin to rise up in alarm, every single nerve aching to run and never look back. this... person spoke of an admiration that made his stomach churn — of a romance that he could not find any pleasure in. it wasn't everyday that his composure was broken but as he murmured an apology, albedo realized that his agitation was displayed white as day on his face.

everything that happened after was a blur and all he could vaguely remember was saying that he had already promised himself to someone else and that was not exactly a lie. so many days had passed since then and just as many were the days where he impulsively asked you out as he saw a strange shadow lurking behind the corner. pretending that things were perfectly fine so as to evade your worry was an easy task but he didn't know that the cost was hurting you even more.

the moon was neither cruel or merciful but it was beautiful and mysterious. it was something he would compare to the look on your face as he haphazardly confessed his feelings for you if only the uncertainty of the situation didn't terrify even the stone-faced scientist of year three's class b. the truth — his honest mistake and his uncharacteristic fear — gnawed on his throat like a secret waiting to be spilled but albedo, who has learned to hold your strangeness close to his heart, feared the expanding distance between you two. but now that the truth was spilled with neither of you willing to clean it up, the pale glow of the satellite above illuminated his way as he stepped into a neighborhood now familiar to him.

"...what are you doing here?"

though the moon may not be cruel, perhaps he was for allowing his dark sea of selfishness to dictate where his feet may lead.

"i have something to admit."

"leave, albedo." you whisper as you avoid his gaze, eyes red from what was left of your tears, "it's late. it's not safe for you to be outside."

"i'm— i'm not here to apologize. i don't think your forgiveness is something that i should have but i have to let you know the whole truth, at least."

you mimicked his words, "the truth? there's more to this than just you playing around?"

he didn't respond, only sighing as he tears his eyes away from your feeble form. the small silence was deafening but even more unnerving was the solemn smile that graces over your soft lips after giving him a once over. without once meeting your eyes, he told you everything — from the stranger to his brewing feelings to his conversation with timaeus.

"i knew," you sighed as you motioned for him to enter into your dimly lit home, "i told you i knew."

"everything?"

a humorless chuckle slips out of you as you fiddled with the hem of your pajamas. with little to no effort, you repeat the words you uttered just a few hours prior "you don't need to be a science genius to be observant. i guess it also helps that you're a horrible liar."

albedo doesn't reply for a while, gaze downturned before he accepts the small cup of water you were offering, "are you mad at me?"

"yes," you answered without missing a beat.

the spark from when your fingers grazed over his when you handed the cup turned into a fire that suffocated him from within. though he didn't see his reflection, he was certain that his eyes dilate at the slow-burning fear for what your approaching form could say next, "it was unfair of you to keep me in the dark when you could've easily told me. you knew i would help and don't give me the "i didn't want to pull you into my trouble" because that's not something you get to decide for me."

silence ensued for the longest time, well, at least for him. to you, only a minute and a half had passed as you phrased your following words in your head. time was not askew and it did none of the fancy slow-mo shots they do in overly tragic telenovelas. it was just silence — an unbearable kind that still had him waiting with bated breath.

"you know... you really suck at expressing your feelings," you snort humorlessly as you sat beside him a mere few inches away from touching him, "no one translates "we can't keep doing this forever" to "i can't keep giving you less than what you deserve." not like it matters because it's not your place to decide for me in any way. only i can do that for myself and i don't know where you or timaeus learned that it's okay to do that but it sucks for you guys because it doesn't matter what you think. if i'm happy and content in receiving all that your sincerity can offer then that's that. you don't get to argue or leave me hanging just because you think i deserve chocolates or flowers every other day."

this time, you don't miss the way albedo nibbled at his lips with a profound sense of loss. this conversation was something beyond what he could ever hope to expect. he was a so-called genius and his hypothesis included your screams of anger but seeing you so understanding made his heart constrict in a way that knocked him off his rational thoughts.

"i'm sorry."

"what happened to "i'm not here to apologize?" came your snarky reply but not even a few moments later, you were uttering your own apology for your sharp tone, "i'm not... forgiving you. i don't think there's any way you can justify your actions but... i know you. you're socially awkward and you miss the innuendos that usually came with your innocent words. you're... i don't know... you're too honest and i knew that you cared loads for me as a friend and i return the sentiment. it doesn't matter if you could only see me as a friend for the rest of your life but... i don't want to lose you. i can't forgive you right now but i'm selfishly asking you to make it up to me... someway... somehow."

social interactions were not his cup of tea because it reminded him too much of everything that could go wrong with just one misplaced sentence. still, albedo finds himself with renewed determination to try, only following the correct steps this time around.

"you were wrong about one thing," he mumbles as he averts his gaze from yours one last time, "i do like you more than you believe i do. i like you enough to admit that you deserve more than the socially inept seat mate you have."

you snort, "if you're trying to win me back, please don't tell me that's your best shot."

"not precisely... i still have flowers and chocolates to give you every other day," albedo shakes his head with the beginnings of a mildly amused smile.

it was eleven in the evening when you see albedo out of your house and you couldn't help but note how happy you are that you didn't sleep early and miss a night so beautiful with a perfect full moon.

。 DILUC — “ noctua | owl ”

how do you know if you love someone? is it when they make you remember yourself despite living in a world that makes you forget your unique identity? is it when you find someone's body to be just the right kind of warmth to wake up to? love was a strange thing and diluc often finds himself remembering that it was a terrifying thing too. love makes you do all sorts of extremes and the fear that your other half loves you less than you love them was enough to make him hesitate.

how else would he piece himself back together when he is hurting if he was to avoid plotting a distance?

as a child, he never liked playing house. it all seemed too romanticized. sure, the domesticity was real but growing up with an adopted brother and a single father who he saw very rarely because of work made him realize a lot of things. kaeya would fight him over the littlest things and he would end up fighting back even when he swore he'll be the bigger person. it's not something out of hate as it was more out of mischief but it doesn't change the fact that those perfect, calm households all appeared to be a hoax when he looks at kaeya and the chaos he brews around himself.

still, diluc ragnvindr was a human who craved intimacy and a place to come home to. as cheesy as it sounds, it would be nice to find someone who'll find belongingness in his embrace like two puzzles clicking together. it must be fun to let loose and be mundane, dancing in the kitchen with blinking light bulbs waiting to be changed. he wondered how long it'll take for that person to enter the doors of his newly bought apartment — or rather, if he'll have the courage to let them in. as romantic as proclaiming "i'm home" is, he knew that an other half can turn into a stranger in minutes, leaving behind only the ruins of what that home was. it doesn't matter how long they stayed together because, in one second, he would've had only memories of what love was to cry over.

he's afraid of commitment. he was scared of losing. so what? he was fresh out of college and anything goes. he bumped into someone whose eyes screamed "welcome home" and the murky skies of his mind told him that it was best to just visit and go back on his merry way. diluc wasn't a romantic and so he definitely didn't believe in love at first sight. he was lonely, yes, but he wasn't quite insane enough to entrust a stranger he bumped into with all of his heart and wonder. instead, he handed you his handkerchief to wipe away the remnants of the coffee on your shirt, and gave you his number for renumeration. it was common courtesy and with that, he leaves.

it was by chance when he heard sobs inside the office pantry one year later, and ever the gentleman, he sat beside you silently in a wordless act of comfort. he's just being a decent human being, he argues as the wind howled in his head. he was certainly not patting your back despite his bones creaking from uncertainty and awkwardness because he felt drawn to you, and the hopeless thunder in his heart? it's likely only concern for his colleague. though time ticks away quickly and diluc never had a penchant for delaying his duties, he stays and hides the turmoil in his eyes behind voids akin to those in space. that way his beloved distance remains to keep him secure.

"thank you," you croak out with a pitiful smile, "sorry for ruining your handkerchief again..."

he swallows, tells you its fine before dismissing himself once more. he may be no astronomer but big bangs disturbed the heart he was trying to still. merely being objective, he convinces himself as he stared at his confused reflection. admitting that the constellations in your eyes — burning, passionate, explosive booms, and supernovas — were beautiful was merely being honest and factual, nothing more, nothing less.

diluc breathes, only to muffle a curse as kaeya cackled behind his back, "what's this i'm seeing? my dear brother has a crush on the intern?"

the world stills as if caught red-handed but diluc refused to plead guilty. instead, he shoots a glare and a muffled "you don't know what you're saying" before witlessly fixing the files on his desk. ever the troublemaker, kaeya begins chattering about you and diluc paid very little attention, too absorbed in tapping his fingers against the wooden frame in thought.

he learned your name and objectively speaking, it suited your face a lot.

in retrospect, it was then that all went downhill as a particularly insistent business partner offered an heir's hand for his perusal. if only it ended there, but he had managed to catch the same heir's eye and they all but thrown themselves over his lap just to catch his attention. though thoroughly amused, kaeya took pity on diluc and told that person that he was, in fact, in a happy relationship with someone. to make matters worse, kaeya had offered your name, thus convincing diluc to talk to you before the heir sees through their blatant lie.

asking for your time was easy enough but as you peered into his soul with an innocent smile, his face contorted to one of nervousness and helplessness. how could he bring up that kaeya had dragged you into his mess and that he was hoping that you could help him in this horrible ruse? but even more troubling was the sweat in his palms, the fear of rejection in his heart — every minuscule detail that made this situation cherry-sweet and real. he knew it was wrong to fool you into thinking that it was all a lie but was it really wrong to crave intimacy minus the inevitability of being hurt? it was a madness he started and when you pulled him into an embrace as you accepted his feelings, diluc felt his guilt being washed away by light showers. how much was his statement a lie if it has always been the untold truth?

another year passed and the light showers that cleared his head has turned into a storm that flooded his mind with anxiety. everything felt vivid now. the way your hands cup his cheeks, the way you smile at him when he comes home from work, the way you ask him about his day — everything was real and the fear that came with the increasingly affectionate touches he gives you became less fictitious.

he loves you. what has he done? how does he even begin to explain the truth that was hidden behind the curtain this past year? will you leave him because of it? he admits that it would be smart to do so.

"what time will you be coming home?"

“i’ll be ho—” he pauses, shaking his head with a deep frown before he turns his back on you, “i’ll be back by eight. you don’t need to wait for me.”

“it’s fine… i’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes. stay safe. i love you.”

he reluctantly nods and he feels you watch as his back vanishes from your line of sight. when he heard the door click close, diluc runs a hand down his face in frustration. a curse falls down his lips and he defeatedly looks up at the greying skies. you had reminded him of the weather forecast and if you weren't there, he'd probably be arriving at the office drenched. guilt boils down in his stomach and cools as remembers your sweet greetings. you were always too good to him — for him. though fear screams at him from the edges of his mind, he loves you and he feels that he owes you his honesty.

no matter the cost.

perhaps he was sick — crazy evil for still having the hope that maybe, just maybe, after all this time, you would still give him your favor and offer him a sweet and tender smile that eases all of his aches. would you cry? would you leave? his wounded heart trembles. if he thought you leaving him was bad enough, clearly he was unready for the sight of your tears; tears that he bought as it was ultimately he who drove the sword in, not kaeya who had merely suggested the idea in jest.

with an unreadable expression, diluc sank deeper into the luxurious seat of his car — the same one he bought because he was told it was charming to drive (the hidden intent of trying to boost his charm in your eyes must not go unrealized). he laughs emptily at that, starting the engine methodically as guilt once again eats him up like a bloodthirsty viper. if he could only have one wish, he’d hope that he could turn back time to the days that a mere mention of your name would send him into a fit of gut-wrenching remorse.

lies were dirty. lies were horrible. lies never amounted to anything good. and even after knowing all of that, you stay and diluc wonders why. had he been in your shoes, he would probably packed his bags and left a long while ago. no amount of water could wash away the grime that is the weight of a play-pretend that only had one willing actor. did it not hurt more than it’s worth? he slows to a stop as the light went from yellow to red and he takes this time to reminisce about his absence this past year. with that he decides that he truly was not worthy of any of your love.

not like it mattered, not ever. you were too kind and too generous; a true angel who spares no one their warm embrace.

with slow and heavy steps, diluc trudges towards the winding halls of his building. with the interest of an eroding rock, he attended his meetings. with the loud ticking of a clock, diluc signed paper after paper with a distracted glaze over his eyes. he was sure that his odd behavior earned him a few wary glances but that was a mere afterthought to his increasing dread. the only thing that could help him now was a boring routine — a routine that takes his mind away from the drive home and his confession. but even that can only take him so far as before long, he was once again facing the entrance to your house — home, really, if he was going to take his honesty with him.

his keys turned with a small ‘click’ and the door opens. warm, yellow light peeks out from the kitchen and he finds himself in a space he ironically feels comforted in. here, there is no anxiety. just your welcoming gaze and your apron-clad self in its full glory. somehow, even with the remnants of flour on your hands and cheeks, you’re still the epitome of purity.

was it finally time?

"i'm back,” he swallows but before he could dislodge the word from his throat, you beat him to it.

"welcome home," you smiled ever so gently, "so... how was your day?"

you’ve always been like this, playing your role with effortless ease that it hurts him.

"it was alright. have you eaten dinner yet?"

"i was waiting for you. let's?"

"let's."

and what can a selfish man do but find a salve that removes that burning pain of cowardice?

it took only five steps to find heaven and as it turns out, heaven was your hands tangled in his hair as you pulled him impossibly close, sweet lips pressed against his. it’s the irreplaceable kind and diluc was convinced that even if the world were to burn outside right now, he would not be able to part from the astronomical pull of your person — just as it had always been.

。 TARTAGLIA — “ monoceros caeli | narwhal sky ”

if he could laugh at only one joke for the rest of his life, he’d choose to laugh at himself and the immense foolishness that seemed to run through his veins more prominently than his own blood. he’s a fool — an even greater fool than the romanticists who adore all things reminiscent of their muse — for letting go of possibly the greatest love he’ll ever come across in his lifetime.

growing up with doe-eyed sisters and a picturesque couple in his mother and father, ajax loved the idea of soulmates. he lived for it, daydreaming of one day locking eyes with someone who will always be there for him. he closes his eyes and he sees a beauty blessed by aphrodite and a heart favored by eros. just thinking about it makes him flex his hands that are hardened and scarred from an accident back when he was seven. he sees his muse shine radiantly as they cradle his rough hands into their own, pressing little kisses on each ruined flesh in a soft profession of “you’re perfect. everything about you from your unruly hair to your deep blue eyes to your tender gaze is perfect and i love you for it.” sure, maybe the poetries were exaggerated but those exaggeration bleeds of hope; of a determination to overcome even the most cruelest of pains and ajax, ever a fighter, finds that he loves it. if believing in everything that could go right instead of everything that could go wrong dubs him a fool, then a fool he should be and a proud one at that. he’s loved before and yes, they haven’t all been pretty but he thanks the stars and the moons above that he met them anyway. for him and probably every other brave soul out there, love is more than just meeting and tolerating. it is also finding and growing and being in the most preciously delicate of ways. it’s beautiful in a way that no man can ever hope to describe because it is all in the heart; all embedded in the soul that speaks its own kind of indecipherable language.

ariel was a warrior and he always believed it so. she took a leap of faith by trading what was dear to her person in order to gain and become one with someone who could give her so much more. cinderella, too, was a warrior. she overcome the fear and the years of doubt engraved into her being by her malicious family for the sake of coming home to someone who can wash away all that pain. that’s love — finding strength in another and becoming greater than you could ever be had you been walking on your own. love was as glorious as they claim it to be: it feeds your eyes images of a thousand fireflies and your stomach, a kaleidoscope of wild butterflies that dance in celebration of your fluttering heart. love was as magical as they claim it to be: ajax finding himself giggling with his siblings at 2am as they binged an obscure rom-com series from the 90s with colorful hopes for the future. the soft light of the television illuminates their face as they all proclaim in their heads, “someday… someday, that love will be mine and it will be more than enough.”

love isn’t a painkiller, at least, not to him. it’s something closer to a vitamin that invigorates your restless mind. love is something supernatural and yet, so ironically mundane. it’s not a one-two fix for any of your woes but it does leave you laughing incredulously as you find yourself charging ahead with your flames renewed. maybe he’s lived a relatively peaceful life to be able to say such words but everything seemed so easy as long as he could find it in his trembling legs to jump and free fall into whatever that may come to pass. he’s blessed that way; that his family taught him how to nurture another’s soul while letting them return the favor; that the authors in the few books he has read all spoke of how despite being imperfect and scared, people still choose to love just because they could; that the old ladies in the nursing home he volunteers at all said that while hurt has come to them in more ways than one, they bore no regrets because the happiness they gained from their experiences patches that hurt all too easily. it’s strange and complex and far too intricate for his simple mind but he knew that if there is only one thing and one thing alone that he knows for sure, it’s that people need love.

love is what colors the world with the blue in his eyes and the pink on his flushed cheeks. love is what makes him see glimpses of yellow and green at each blooming romance of young high schoolers who are still testing the waters. it’s a vibrant, mind-blowing shade that throws even the power of jupiter to shame. after all, what else will you call a power so supreme that it pushes you to live, live, and live some more? he has yet to find that kind of love for himself but he knows that it will come eventually. someday, he will love someone and they will love him back and they would put james dean and audrey hepburn to shame. they will dance with him to the tune of ‘can’t help falling in love’ because they truly can’t help but fall for each other every time they’d flash a gummy smile and they will fall asleep side-by-side on the living room as the credits of some mediocre hallmark film plays in the background.

yeah… that sounds about right… sounds about what everyone deserves to have…

they say that twenties was the marriage age but ajax argues that there is no "one" time for love. he does make the effort of putting himself out there as his friends called it but that was that. he was in no particular rush and he finds no need to plead for destiny’s threads to pull him forward. destiny was an expert in reverse psychology though because ajax received an answer to a prayer unsung and he found it at the corner of an overhyped cafe a few blocks away from home.

he found the idea of love at first sight cute but always thought that it wasn’t for him. it was unfair to think about now that he learned that it didn’t matter a single bit what he thought because love comes however it wants. in that crowded place, time seemed to stop and so did his heart that froze before starting back up with a pace that would usually send him flying off the walls. his throat closes up as he hurriedly averts his gaze from you in the middle of a flustered panic. was his hair fine? did he remember to wear his lucky cologne? seemingly useless questions flitted through his mind and before long, he was at the front of the counter ordering some random coffee brew because he just couldn’t be bothered. was this what the bards meant when they said “you’ll know it when it happens”?

with a hesitant step forward, he cleared his throat before smiling apologetically (and he hopes it also came off as charming), “is this seat taken? sorry, i can’t see any other empty space…”

so what if he said a little lie? so what if the second floor of the cafe had a few spare tables? if he was going to shoot his shot, he might as well omit all the negative details from his head — just like the tense frown you were wearing from the moment he saw you.

ajax waited with bated breath and stiff muscles as you considered your options. when you sighed in defeat, he sighed in relief and he all but slammed his tray in a hurry in case you suddenly change your mind. he was barely situated in when you brought out your headphones. panic-stricken, he wore another bright smile as he tapped on your mug, “what’s your order? it looks good!”

you frowned and ajax winced internally because of all things he could say, he says the one thing that didn’t make sense, “good? the most you could see is the murky leftovers of the good parts. what’s there to look at?”

“i guess but,” he shrugged relaxedly (it was all an act), “is anything really good if you could only appreciate it on its best of days?”

he thought that he caught himself well but you seemed to disagree, rolling your eyes and completely ignoring him by the next second. he halfheartedly twirled his straw, wondering if he just sucked at conversing with attractive people or if you were just naturally pessimistic and cold. either way, the defeated slouch of his body was not hard to see by any interested onlooker.

so what if he was a romantic? he didn't think that there was something to be ashamed of in embracing a positive outlook in an otherwise dreary world. there was nothing wrong with adoring chick-flicks and pumpkin spice lattes during fall. there was nothing strange with choosing to highlight the good than the bad. there was nothing to criticize in the way he immediately felt drawn to you like two halves of a whole separated for the longest time and suddenly — by complete happenstance — finding each other again. so what if he believed in the irrational notion of soulmates? he'd stand his ground through it all if it meant being able to turn what appears to be a permanent frown on your face into a smile.

he's seen you before in his dreams and it's rather amazing how you beat all the odds when you chose to come at the right day and time and prove to him that you do exist in real life. you had the fire he imagined he'd gladly dance in and the small pout that would put all those celebrities to shame. you could tell him that adonis and aphrodite have nothing on you and he'd believe it in a heartbeat. it's this weird magnetic pull that makes him stare like some poet that wishes to immortalize your attractiveness in his books. the one time he diverts his gaze, he sees you catching a staring at him from the mirror that hung from the wall close by. fueled by the adrenaline and perhaps, hope, he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels.

"if you wanted to look, you don't need to be so sneaky about it."

he watched you blink, eyebrows pulling together in a show of annoyance as he sent a wink for good measure. without a skip of a beat, you said, "you have something on your lip."

"what? fuck..." he had been too preoccupied with your reflection that he didn't catch his. now, his mind was in shambles and dark thoughts filled them in response to his embarrassment. "shit, i thought i was being slick and all that—"

though troubled, he didn't miss the small smile that graced your lips that you tried to hide with your hoodie. he counts that as a win so he shoots you a big grin before looking down at his coffee. hesitation brews in his heart but it was now or never so clearing his throat, he asks. "hey, can i get your number?"

you demeanor changes and for the nth time, ajax beats himself up in regret.

"easy there! i'm really not trying to get in your pants or something. i just thought you were pretty cool and i figured we'll be good buddies!"

he gave it his best shot in damage control but you still refused to give it. he asked nineteen times in total and for the twentieth time, he calls upon the world to give him just one sign that you're really the one for him and so, he proposes a game of rock, paper, scissors — placing everything at the hands of his luck and to fate.

you lost.

but he lost too, he chuckled emptily as he twirled the stirrer in his cup. here he was, still sat at the corner of the cafe you first met in but this time, there was no you. he burned that bridge foolishly because of some drunken drawl incited by irrelevant fears. what a joke. he lost you faster than it took to fall for you which was absurdly swift even in the dictionaries of the gurus. you're midnight wine and campfire talks and hushed giggles in the corner of a big, storied library. you were everything he asked for even when sometimes, you behave like the exact opposite of him. that has always been fine though. opposites attract until he had to ruin it with his stupid mouth.

he should've known better; should've known that all the good things in his life would come crashing down because of him.

the pain in your voice was something that would haunt his nights for the rest of his life, possibly even the lives after that. when you asked why the fuck he'd done the things that he did, he can't even bring himself to look for answers because why the fuck did he? he could only watch as your face morphs into a person he once knew and killed — the you that was cynical and doubtful of good intentions; the you that hated disney films and fairy tales because it's too good to be true; the version of you that would refuse to draw matching hearts when he'd write your name in the back pages of your notebook.

'can't help falling in love' plays in the cafe radio and ajax runs a hand across his face in humanity's greatest portrayal of the character, misery. it was in moments like this when figments of the past you shared come passing around him like shadows that he realizes how much his heart longs to just grip the clock and turn the hands of time himself. he misses the way you'd laugh as he curses out the liars in tv shows. he misses the way he misses you every time you had work and now, your split second replies had all turned into one sided conversations in blue. what can he do?

"what's this? you look pathetic." he jolts in his seat as if all he needed was to hear the voice he hasn't heard in weeks to come back to life. ajax decides against saying that you were far from faring any better. your eyes were swollen like you haven't stopped crying all this time and your lips were trembling at the mere sight of him. his lips twitch up at that. guess he still had some effect on you... he'd rejoice if his tongue wasn't tied in undoable knots. "well? you wanted to talk and now that i'm here, you're not saying anything."

you place yourself before him, setting down a tray that had the same steaming drink you ordered before. he was right. it did look good on its best form.

"you feel unreal. i dreamt of you so many times these days that i don't know if i just finally lost it since you're actually talking to me this time."

there was no response, just the white noise of people having their own conversations that were faring far better than his own. a lump forms on his throat and he forces it down like the way he forces himself to meet your gaze. he didn't know what to expect to see but it certainly wasn't concern.

"just... i don't know... start from the beginning, i guess? i want to know what could possibly be running through your oh-so-brilliant mind for everything to end up like this."

so he tells you everything from the start. from his love at first sight that you couldn't help but laugh at since he spared no details and no thoughts for his dignity, the stalker that has been bothering him for years, the night he drank his concerns away, the way he adored how you rushed and picked him up when he couldn't even stand, the desperate attempt to remove that unsettling feeling in his chest, the timid but excited smile he was greeted with when he woke up to your excited smile, the instance he knew he fucked up, the dreams of a heart stopping confession fading away like a wisp, the fear of losing you if you find out that how it started out was a misunderstanding even if everything else was the truth, and finally, the gratitude he can't help but gurgle out through his tears. all this time, you listened, not interrupting him for one second except for when you awkwardly slid the paper towels in your tray over to him when he started having a breakdown.

you stayed silent for quite some time, ruminating on your thoughts and ajax believes he hasn't known anxiety until today. five minutes passed before you spoke with an unreadable smile, "you're an idiot, you know that?"

"...excuse me?"

"you're an idiot. i don't know how i fell for you," you sigh as the chair creaks when you leaned back, "but i did and for some reason, i can't find it in myself to regret it when emotions died down."

there was just no way that the man you knew who liked having raspberry sherbet after kicking the ass of some random date that stood you up was fake. you chose to believe that not because of some optimistic dream but because it might as well become a scientifically proven truth. he was a guy, well-built and kind, actually clumsy but firm and honorable and— fuck, he has honor and principles in his bloodstream that you decided to give him a chance to explain.

"i didn't block you, you know... i saw each message you sent me hence this," you motion to yourself with a stiff smile.

"oh."

ajax swallows before looking back down to his drink that now turned lukewarm and murky. it stops him from forming any thoughts and he's unsure if he's happy with that since it meant being left alone with the muddled reflection that stared back at him.

"i... honestly don't know what to tell you, ajax, but i... i understand where you came from and i don't think i'm getting the closure i was supposed to get today."

just like back then, he steels himself.; he schools his expression into what he hopes looks like a smile that can send anyone swooning like those picture-perfect guys in the novels although this time, it's weaker and wearier in comparison.

"is that some roundabout way of telling me i can still win you over?"

you don't respond again, only sipping on your drink for the first time that day, and neither of you knew what to make of that.

it's cynicism that saves young hearts from recklessly bolting out of their well-made confines to find something that didn't exist. it's scrutiny that disproves the existence of love and by extension — the macabre heartbreak you were never meant to feel. it's hope that ruins everything that guards your delicate heart. you didn't believe in happy-ever-afters, no, not after all that, but for some reason, you think that this story isn't meant to end in this bitter note after all. maybe the tragedies you heard off were, all this time, interpreted differently by the people who lived it.

shit... you should know better but he was someone you'd risk it all for and that's the dilemma. you supposed you owe him a part of your humor. in this irony, for the first time in a few weeks, you feel like you can laugh again and mean it — genuinely and wholly.

"please—" ajax speaks abruptly, eyes shaking as he eyed your now empty cup, "don't go... not yet..."

you don't. not yet.

。 XIAO — “ alatus nemeseos | winged nemesis ”

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. it's a bitter acceptance that stops you from falling into the pitfall that is called existential crisis. in a way, it's a philosophical view that is both an answer and not in a big world overflowing with questions because truly, how exactly would you attempt to prove the nature of consciousness? of souls and minds? of their eternal nature or their temporality? what exactly was real?

xiao, at least, believed that this was solution enough. you may never know if the love in someone else's eyes weigh as much as the one you held in yours but at least, you're certain that it is real and there's no more need to spare doubt on something equivocal in spirit. you don't need to question their 3am thoughts, their strange thought process and conspiracies because it's something that just exists. they exist and you know them. you know their soul and their body and their mind; know what keeps them awake at night and the untold fears that has never seen the light of day until now. he'd know. he feels it every single time in every single conversation. he's kinda you and you're kinda him and it's so easy to say that you belong side-by-side together because there is some unexplainable, hidden force tying a string in your hand and in his. whenever he's in bed, thinking of nothing but which series to binge watch with you next, he knows that you exist and he exists with you.

you've always been his best friend — now and forevermore in each version of ending regardless if it's a happy ever after or not. the insomnia that plagues your mind is something that he mirrors and each night passes easier ever since he met you. whether it be imessage billiards or some philosophical dilemma you found because of your brilliant mind, he types for god knows how long until he settles for a reply that's worthy of your time. he likes you and that's why it doesn't matter to him if he comes to school with dark circles underneath his eyes. he likes you. of course he did. it's harder to not like you than it is to stop breathing. you're everything that he's not — soft and well-rounded, always knowing the right words to say when he's feeling numb after a day of exhausting exchanges. you're not the best at one-sided conversations but the way you'd squeeze his hand in yours is a whole tale in itself. you're his favorite person and for that alone, he speaks the words that are so hard to come to him on normal days.

he says 'i passed by your favorite cafe so i got us some drinks' but mean 'i thought of you while going through my daily life' because he gets so overwhelmed by the saccharine taste of those words when it finally comes down to it. each sentence is some profound expression of his heart and it leaves him trembling in his doc martens every single goddamn time, leaving him to regret not saying what he truly meant later at night when everything's said and done. 'these songs reminded me of you and i don't know how to thank you for being in my life,' 'you're my favorite person and your face is the one that pops inside my mind when i think of the one person i don't ever want to lose,' and ' i love you'; so many things he wanted to say but cowardice comes around to bite his throat until not even a word can be coughed out.

when did the switch between platonic to romantic happen? when did your name become the missing piece to the absurd solution to an equally absurd problem? who knows... maybe it was never platonic in the first place and he just never noticed because mysterianism cannot explain your soul. everything's blurry these days and the only clear thing in his incomprehensible mind was the recognition of the sharp pains that throb in his chest whenever he eyes the last text message you sent.

he loves you. he loves his best friend and your shitty playlist and your store-bought cookies. he loves the criticism you spout whenever the random movie you managed to put on turned out to be some horribly written romance. he loves the way you'd send him random memes throughout the day for no good reason other than you can. he loves you and he misses you especially on late nights like this when your replies came as scarce as water in the desert. was it desperation? some god's pity? he thinks no further before trying again, sending another "hey" among the many he has sent before in an attempt to start a conversation.

he can't explain why he's still staring at his phone expectantly... what does he expect to see?

it chimes and xiao jolts up like a child on their birthday morning.

words are beautiful. they can convey anything from sorrow to glee to adoration and hatred. they're like roses in that sense and roses were dangerous. they're thorned and adorned with hidden malicious meanings. you've given him roses before and he never feared being pricked by them because he knows you. that's why the anxiety he feels now is unfamiliar — because now he doesn't know if he's ever understood you at all.

your half-hearted, playing innocent replies greeted him and the conversation ended faster than what was once the usual but it was a start. he managed to invite you to his next performance and that... well, he supposed it was something to be happy over. amber eyes strayed to find the hoodie that he gave you that he never managed to return. with renewed vigor, xiao kisses the idea of getting any sleep tonight a wonderful goodbye. he has better things to do and words? words are beautiful but they fail him more often than not. if he could get someone else to say the words he desperately wanted to say for him, would it matter? it's still real, is it not? regardless of its validity, the rest of the night was silent save for the soft strumming of a guitar and lonely humming.

friday afternoon came faster than he anticipated and so did the lump on his throat. backstage, his arms feel like jelly that was strangely conducting electricity to the tips of his cold hands. his legs weren't feeling any better being comparable to lead itself. he hates this, he thinks and he mussed up his hair with an annoyed groan. whatever... whatever! xiao repeatedly mumbles to himself as his grip on his guitar's neck grows ever tighter.

if not anything else, then he was still your friend. he has that, at least. he still has you even if it'll never be the same as before.

his band mate tells him they're on stage in five and he peeks through the curtains to see you nursing a drink by the exit. you were wearing one of his shirts and he wonders; do you wear it because you still care about him somewhat or have you just forgotten that it was his once upon a time? regardless, his heart that was already in such a dangerous position trembles at the sight of you. it beats against his ribcage until the excited cheers of the crowd becomes a whisper compared to his own heartbeat.

has it been weeks since he last saw you? it all feels unreal.

"for the first song," xiao tuned out the band's lead singer who just finished hyping up the crowd, busying himself with adjusting the grain for his electric guitar so that he didn't have to meet the gaze that he knows is focused solely on him — just like other times, "it's actually written by our guitarist, xiao. we hope you enjoy it."

what does it mean to say something? was it merely sending your thoughts to another? whatever it was, it can't possibly be the way xiao could only spare you a passing glance before he had to grit his teeth, feelings of sadness, regret, and longing bubbling to the surface of his normally schooled expression. he catches your raised brow, eyes surprised and dare he say it, concerned, as he finds his world closing in on him.

"if i could turn back time... if I could find a way, i'd take back those words that've hurt you and you'd stay."

relationships ruin friendships, they say. xiao just never considered that there would be an end to something that seems so inexplicably perfect. holding onto hope was foolish but a part of him considered that maybe... maybe you'd find the answer to your question in his song and stop this cruel game of tag.

"i don't know why i did the things i did. i don't know why i said the things i said"

liquid courage was nothing compared to the state of his sanity. you had on the most unreadable expression he's ever seen. heck, you had never reacted like that the entire time he knew you; not when you had sat so close together, knees and arms touching under one blanket and not when he came knocking on your door one rainy night.

"words are like weapons, they wound sometimes."

he strums his guitar, words — lyrics — popping in his mind in time with the singer who was singing his heart out. words are beautiful because sometimes, they tell you exactly what you want to hear and this time, he means it. it is real. him on the stage, you by the bar; this is reality and each word he wrote for you are the words he hadn't been strong enough to say the night you became mercury and him, pluto.

"i didn't really mean to hurt you," he sees you cover your face with your hand and he stills, wondering if he messed up all over again, "i didn't wanna see you go."

before you were whatever this was, he was your best friend. he used to look out for you in his stupid, unconventional ways because that's the best he could do in his awkward, socially inept skin. he would wordlessly pass his lecture notes to you, pay for your fast-food runs, sign your excuse letters so it wouldn't be obviously fake. he never knew why he made such an effort with you when if it were anybody else, he'd scoff and move on with his day. looking back, maybe he knew the answer all this time. he's in love with you. for real this time.

you're kinda him so you knew what he meant with those words, "if I could reach the stars, i'd give 'em all to you. then you'd love me, love me, like you used to do."

such bittersweet words shake your resolve and you don't know how much more you can take. you're taken back to christmas eves spent in your apartment, hot cocoa and foam on his lips as 'the grinch' plays on the background. you finally meet his eyes after a long while of avoidance and you knew that he's there too.

"when you walked out that door i swore that i didn't care but i lost everything, darlin', then and there."

words were truly beautiful.

this time, he doesn't escape the conversation that must be had and you didn't either. he leaves his guitar the moment the song ends and runs to the backstage where you stand there looking aimless and very, very real. reaching his hand towards you was instinct — like he couldn't believe this was reality and you respond in kind, knowing how lonely it is to be alone in not knowing what you can believe in.

"you'll..." he sighs when your skin touches his, hands interlinking just as how he was used to, “we'll be okay, right?"

"maybe? i think so..."

you sent him a watery smile and downing pride and fear better than vodka, he tugs your body until you're as close as can be. xiao still can't help but wonder if this is a dream.

you're his best friend and more. selfishly, he doesn't want to lose you — not again after coming back from that hell. you're the one who pulls him back when his aggression takes the better of him. you're the one who stubbornly forces tylenol down his throat whenever he was feeling sick. you were the one who approached him first and stayed even when he refused to return the trust you give him whenever you question everything in this world. you knew him and his intricacies first, the same way he was the first to unearth yours. you're the one who keeps his mind from spiraling — the solution to every single problem he can't seem to understand.

"don't cry," you murmur through your own tears, "i can't stand seeing you cry."

he can't help it, body relaxing with each passing second as the distance between you decreases once more, just as it should always be. frost thaws like the first day of spring. suddenly, it was like the december nights he endured were but a part of his imagination; his weird consciousness manipulating the sensory experience of bearing through the lack of warmth emitted by your body in his hold.

mysterianism is the belief that not a single being in the entire vast universe can decipher the hard problem of consciousness. the limits of human comprehension makes it impossible for anyone to grasp the idea of qualia — that is, an individual's subjective yet conscious experiences. the relief that renews his bones is one that cannot be explained and he preferred it this way out of the fear that if he questions it too deeply, the world will take offense and take you away from him again. his love and your forgiveness, though he can understand neither, he feels nothing but gratitude. it's beautiful, isn't it? in this vast world, you and him made perfect sense and no science or craft can ever come close to placing a value to the way your lovely smile was enough to calm all the raging thoughts in his head.

there was still so much that needs to be said — to be talked through — but that can wait until tomorrow morning. today, he basks in joy. love disappoints and love changes but he was able to catch you before you fully depart. he eyes your face and he can still read through your micro-expressions that speak so loudly of the way you were feeling the same things he was. he sees you and you're still the same as he remembers, if not more precious. it's you. it's really you and admitting it makes him feel like he's one of those down bad boys from dramas who'd jump and scream their professions of love from high school rooftops. and well, if that's what it takes to steal your heart away, he'd gladly be one with this version of him in some other universe.

"you've been staring at me for quite some time now," you promptly avoid his gaze when you hear the familiar lilt that cues his mischief, "you're not still thinking that you're the only conscious mind in this world, right?"

"...well, aren't you such a dream to have?"

mysterianism is a word and words are beautiful especially when it's so powerful that it can patch up old wounds in a minute.

TAGLIST / ask to be removed or added

@genshiningg @serenareiss @cloudybillows @abblebabble @scaraslover @ttaechi @sugarysylz @favonius-captain @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lowilaufeyson @starforecasts @fiannee @nejibot @mininji @scaramew

#genshin #albedo #diluc #childe #xiao #tartaglia #genshin scenario #genshin imagine #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #gi x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 #—𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 #genshin angst

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hotshot624 · 2 years ago

Note

Daddy! Eddie x little! Reader and he helps her go into little space

Okay I'ma be completely honest with you, I've never written a fic on Tumblr and the time I did write a fic like on Wattpad, I was like in 6th grade. However I'ma try to write something just for you! (Also if it sucks just tell me. I'll @ some pretty good accounts that would make a completely better fic then whatever I'm gonna make)

Daddy!Eddie x little!reader: helping reader into little space

You've been having a very difficult week. Highschool had been particularly difficult with finals coming up and with you being in honors, it just seemed to make things worse. You've been running on almost two whole days with absolutely no sleep what so ever and it was finally catching up to you. You wanted nothing more than to just slip into little space and forget about everything troubling you. But you knew you couldn't. You had studying to do and by god you were going to do it even if it was the last thing you did. Plus your parents weren't home and their was no one to tell you to take scheduled breaks. Or so you thought.

It was ten fifteen at night where you were sitting in your bedroom surrounded by books, studying flash cards, different empty cups of which used to be filled with coffee, and other things that you weren't even sure of anymore. Your room was an absolute mess and that wasn't helping the mental state you were in at all. It felt like the mess was cluttering your brain and it was making it difficult for you to think properly, making you more stressed then you needed to be. Tears of frustration started to form in your eyes as you had to reread the same paragraph over again because the last few times you read it weren't sticking. Just as you were about to scream in anger you heard loud repeating banging at your front door. And there was only one person in the world who would pound at the door at this time of night.

You got up from your spot on the floor and ran as fast as you could towards the front door, almost tripping three times, before you threw open the door to be greeted by your favorite metal head.

"Hey Y/N! How's my favorite rockstar doin-" Eddie tried to say, only to be crushed in a giant hug from you.

"Wow! You trying to kill me? Not that dying from a hug from you sounds so bad but is there any reason in particular you tried to run me over?" He jokingly asked, having wrapped an arm around your waist and was looking down at you.

You just shook your head, burying your face in his chest. You knew that if he saw how exhausted and how close you were to crying, he'd try to get you to take a break and be little and you didn't have time for that. Not with all that studying you had to do.

'Speaking of studying', you thought to yourself, 'I should probably get back to that'. You wanted so desperately to be curled up in his arms watching cartoons with a paciy in your mouth as he rocked you, but you just couldn't do that. Well that's what you thought anyway.

"Hey babe, are you okay?" He asked, now getting concerned with your lack of verbal response.

Blast! He's on to you. Just play it cool and maybe he won't notice how stress you are.

"Yeah I'm fine! Anyway I can't hang out with you right now. I have a bunch of studying I need to get back to and the finals are coming really soon so I have get back to my work, sorry" you tried to rush out not making eye contact with him as you turned to go back to your room.

"Finals? What fina- Wait do you mean the finals that are like three weeks from now? Those finals?" He asked slightly bewildered, following you to your room only to stop dead in his tracks upon seeing the state of your room.

"Jesus H. Christ" he whispered to himself (even though his room has looked far worse let's be honest)

"Yes Eddie, those finals. I need to make sure I'm prepared and ready for them because I know there gonna be hard and it's- I- just...It's gonna be hard okay! I need to do this so just leave! Please!" You snapped at him.

Why couldn't he see how important this was for you? You didn't have time to mess around! Right?

"Babe, the only thing your preparing yourself for is a mental break down. Your putting too much stress on yourself for something I KNOW your gonna do great on, by the way. You need a break so your can rest and not stress yourself into a panic attack." He concluded looking around trying to find some of your little stuff you had. "And I know just the way to do it".

As he was looking for your little stuff you tried to stop him.

"Eddie no. I can't. Not right now. Please just.....just leave." You didn't really mean that but you knew that if he stayed here you'd slip and wouldn't be able to continue your work.

Unfortunately for you, Eddie knew you didn't mean it too. When he finally found what he was looking for he turned around really quick and held it up to your face.

It was a little black bat stuffed animal he had gotten you when you first told him about your age regression. He got it to show you that he excepted this side of you with open arms and that he loved you no matter what. It had quickly became your comfort object and you used it everytime you were in little space.

"Well hi there Y/N! It's your favorite friend Midnight! I came to give you some good night snuggles!" Midnight - I mean Eddie said, using his funny little voice you loved so much especially when you were feeling small.

He was trying to get you to slip and it almost worked. You were holding it together just barley, but still you weren't slipping. You just couldn't. You looked away from him, reluctantly seeing as how you wanted to snuggle midnight desperately, and pouted slightly with with tears of frustration and exhaustion brimming in your eyes. Eddie knew you were gonna slip but you just needed a little push.

He sighed and lowers Midnight to the ground and took you in his arms, rocking you with his chin tucked under your head.

"Look I know you worried about this final, but you need to understand that stressing yourself out for this isn't going to help you. Your going to great cause your the smartest person I know and probably in the whole school. You'll do fine. And hey if it makes you feel better I'll help you with studying. I know I'm not that smart but I could read you flash cards and quiz you on stuff. So what do you say? Will you take a break for me? For your daddy?" He finally asked looking down at you, slightly worried that you wouldn't slip.

But he was relieved when he saw you nod with your bottom lip sticking out and hearing your whisper 'daddy' and holding on to him as tightly as you could.

"There's my little Rockstar" he said smiling super wide.

He picked you up and placed you on his hip crouching down to pick up midnight as he set you up for bed. He got you in you night time wear and placed your pacifier in your mouth, cooing at you for doing such a good job for him.

He walked you to you living room and put on some care bears for you to watch. He knew it was late but he thought you could stay up a little bit just to relax. As you were watching TV, he went into the kitchen, after finding your baby bottle from your room, and started making some angel milk. When he was done, he scooped you up into his lap and fed you the bottle.

You ended up drinking all of it before dozing off to sleep. Not before you felt Eddie place a good night kiss on your forehead and whispering how much he loves you.

In the end you did great on your finals. Eddie helped you along the way like he said he would. Doing flash cards with you and quizzing you on stuff. He helped you even more when you had to explain stuff to him because it seemed explaining stuff to Eddie helped you better understand what you were studying. He also made sure you took breaks in between. Either being little space breaks or just big space breaks. Eddie would always be there for you and you couldn't be more great full.

The End

Hope y'all liked the fic. Again this is my first ever fic here so sorry if it sucks. I think it was pretty good so please tell me what y'all think. It would be much appreciated. And thank you for requesting this. I think you might have just put me in the fanfic writing business lol. Love you guys 😘💜💜💜

#Stranger things #Stranger thing agere #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stanger things imagine #stanger things x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #daddy!eddie #daddy!eddie munson #eddie munson #agere fanfic #little space fanfic #My post #answered #my fics

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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

Text

My Father's daughter pt 3

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Summary: Back at the Tower, Y/n has a talk with Pepper.

a/n: ohhh another part finished!! some new characters will be revealed next part and i’m so great full for @social-media-imagines-by-me fir helping me create them💕💕

You were furious.

You stormed into your room and slammed the door, finding satisfaction in the loud bang it produced. You then ripped through your drawers and closet, pulling on some work out clothes and some gloves. You then marched out of the room, slamming the door again, startling Sam and Bucky who happened to be passing by.

"Geez kid, slam it a little harder I don't think it fell off the hinges yet." Sam jokes, but you were in no joking mood so you swirled around with fire in your eyes.

"You okay doll?" Bucky softly asks, pushing a frightened Sam to the side. You sigh, knowing it's not fair to take out your anger on them.

"Sorry Sam, it's just...my biological mom is here and wants me to move in with her."

"Oh..." Bucky says, not good with things like this, " Do you want me to like...kill her or..."

"NO" You laugh, " It's just I haven't seen her in nine years and she has the audacity to come up here like it's nothing?!"

Your anger returns, " She thinks that just because she pushed me out of her vagina"

The two men cringe at the words

"That she can just claim me? That's not how it works!" You shout, " And, she brought her fucking husband. The man she left us for! Who does that?!"

Bucky looks at Sam, mentally asking him what they should do. Sam just rolls his eyes and turns back to you.

"Come on kid, it looks like you wanna punch something."

and with that he lead you to the training room where Steve was training with Peter.

"Come on queens, you gotta stay on your feet" Steve k=jokes as he, again, trips Peter.

"Mr. Rogers, do you think we should take a break?" Peter pants.

You stride pass them, not bothering to say hi. They look at Sam and Bucky for an explanation and just get a shake of the head.

"Hey Y/n that's my punching" Steve started to say when he saw you throw a hard punch to the bag, "Nevermind..."

You ignore the group behind you, opting to pummel the poor punching bag in front of you.

Your mind flashes back to your mother and her words.

"A girl needs her mother"

*punch*

"Oh petal I wanted to call"

*punch* *punch*

"Come to Gotham. Meet your siblings!"

*BANG*

You look down to see the punching bag flew off the hook and is spilling sand on the floor. You were confused, as you knew you weren't strong enough to do that, not even when you were angry.

"Wow, I guess Cap didn't secure that hook again."

You jump, not expecting someone to be there, as you heard Sam, Bucky, Steve, and Peter leave. You turn to see Pepper there looking at the bag in surprise. You sigh, stepping away from the mess and taking off your gloves. You make your way to the bench and take a swig of water.

"Did you need something Pep?" You ask, avoiding eye contact.

"Well, i was just wondering if my kid was okay. But given the fact that you punched that bag like it would restore your honor.."

You knew you shouldn't have showed her Avatar.

"I'm assuming your not." She finishes.

You give her a half smile, looking down at your hands.

"Y/n" She says, " Talk to me."

You finally speak, "Why now?"

Pepper frowns, understanding that small phrase, ' I don't know."

"She's not my mother." You state, " She...she might have been once but now?"

Pepper nods," I love you."

You smile, the words reassuring you, " I love you too Pep."

"Come on, your messing up your manicure." She says with a smile, standing and extending a hand towards you. You feel your demnor soften and your mood lighten. Pepper always managed to make you feel better.

"Yeah okay..thanks." You say, taking her hand and letting her pull you from the bench, " Are you hungry? Cause I am>"

"Y/n we just ate!"

"Like an hour ago"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days went by and you hadn't heard a peep from Christine. It was like she went off to lick her wounds and just decided not to reach out again.

Which didn't bother you one bit.

But apparently the universe wanted to fuck with you because when you came home from a day out with Peter, there was your mother, Bruce Wayne, and all six million of her fucking kids sitting on the couch.

"What the fuck?" You say causing the attention to turn to you.

"Language" Peter says, You smile softly at him before then turning to glare at Tony.

"Don't look at me, it was your moth-uh Peppers idea." Tony stumbled, looking rather uncomfortable sharing a drink with the man that his...wife? girlfriend?... whatever she was left him for.

"Pep what?" You asking, softening your glare because you'd be damned if you disrespected her.

"I just think it'd be best if we clear the air and get everything out on the table." Pepper said in that tone she uses when she's dealing with difficult people or the press. You called it her CEO tone.

"Now, go take your bags upstairs and wash up. And I'll pretend that you aren't an hour late"

"It was Peter's idea..." You mumbled and walking to the stairs that lead to the bed rooms.

"It was not!" Peter shouts following you to the rooms to help with the bags.

Christine watched as her daughter walked out of the room, playfully arguing with Peter. It was as if she were a whole different person, carefree and playful. Totally different from when she was glaring and stiff when talking to her. It broke her heart hearing Tony refer to Pepper as her Mother rather than Christine. But what did she expect?

Damian scoffed catching her attention, "Mother I do not see why you've dragged us here, that girl didn't even acknowledge us."

"Damian, enough" Bruce said, not looking away from his awkward conversation with Tony.

"Gee if only I could do that with our kids." Tony mutters into his drink.

"Does Y/n argue often?" Bruce asks trying to engage in conversation.

Tony laughs before fondly speaking, " Sort of. She isn't the type to back down when she thinks something is right. There was this one time I caught her arguing with one of my business partners about his "condescending tone and misogynistic attitude"."

""And did she apologize after?"

"Hell no. She glared at me and told me apologizing just for his ego would be demeaning her experiences as a woman. Although to be fair he was an asshole."

Bruce chuckles, " She sounds like a well rounded young woman. How old was she then?"

"Ah about 10, it was funny seeing this little girl argue in a Justin Bieber shirt argue about the patriarchy with a full grown man."

Bruce and Tony shared a laugh, picturing the scene.

"You must be very proud of her." Bruce mentions after they quieted down. Tony let a small smile escape.

" I am. She's had a rough life, and I..." Tony trails off, " She means everything to me. Without her...I don't think I'd be the same person I am today."

And with that, Tony downed his drink and stood, " Want another?"

Bruce smiled and accepted, watching Tony leave. He can tell that the man was close to his daughter. A bond that formed due to a loss, they both grew from it and grew closer. He understood, thinking about his own children.

Pepper and Christine were having a somewhat similar conversation, although it was a little more tense.

"So...Pepper-"

"Virginia." Pepper said, cutting her off.

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Virginia. Pepper is a nickname my family calls me."

"Oh. Okay, Virginia, how long have you known Y/n and Tony?"

"Oh about nine or so years. I was promoted to assistant when I saw how much of a mess Tony was." Pepper said casually.

Dick and Jason tensed, overhearing the tense conversation between the two mothers. But before Dick could interrupt Jason sat him back down.

"I wanna see what happens."

Christine continued, " And when did you become a..more permanent around the house?"

"When I saw that Y/n the one taking care of Tony." Pepper said in a serious tone, "She was the one making sure he didn't choke on his vomit and eating cereal as his flings walked out the room. Then he got kidnapped...and y/n was alone. So I made sure she’d never be alone again.”

Christine heart sank. She knew about the whole kidnapping thing. Why she didn't step in, she doesn't know. It's just another thing she regrets to this day.

Before Pepper could continue, she heard two sets of footsteps and voices

"All I'm saying is, if he looks at me funny, I'm fighting him and that's that."

"Yeah maybe not the best impression on..." Peter cuts off when they reach the living room. Eyes again on the two of you.

"Let's get this over with." You muttered, saying bye to Peter and making way over to the couch to sit next to Pepper.

"Y/n!" Christine says happily, " I'm glad you're here. We brought you something!"

She pulls out a box and she carefully hands it over to you.

You look at it suspiciously before getting a nudge from Pepper.

"Thank you." You grit out. Earning a glare from Damian and Cassandra.

You open the box to see...cupcakes.

"They're the peanut butter strawberry cupcakes you used to like. Remember? I used to bring them when I came to see you." Christine says, trying to bring up good memories.

You frown and close the box, " I'm allergic to strawberries."

Lie.

Pepper casts a glance towards you, "They look lovely, let me take them into the kitchen, I'll check on dinner."

And with that she takes the box and leaves into the kitchen. Leaving you and Tony alone.

"So...Stark" Damian started fixing his gaze on you.

"Yes, Wayne?" You said, matching his energy.

"What exactly is it you want from my mother?" He asks, earning a groan from his older brothers.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if she left me alone." You say with a straight face.

Christine frowns but before she says something Damian speaks up again.

"Tt, all this drama for the likes of you? It's honestly disappointing" He drawls, trying to get under your skin.

"Damian!" Christine scolded.

"Well, I apologize for not meeting your standards. I'd try harder if I cared what a toddler thought of me."

Jason let out a surprised chuckle while the rest of the family looked on in shock. Tony just rolled his eyes.

"I do not understand why Mother insists on rekindling her relationship with you. You obviously weren't worth the effort the first time around." He spits, causing the rest of the family to gasp.

You however, just laugh, " When you figure it out, let me know. It's probably the same reason she puts up with you."

Damian glares, about to start in again when Jason cuts him off " Shut up Demon. She got you man."

"Tt"

"I'm Jason, and anyone who can out that brat in check is good in my book." He says sending you a smirk.

You smile back, " I'm friends with Loki and Wade Wilson, I'm hardly affected by anything anymore." Your dad rolls his eyes again, he’s not exactly enthusiastic about your choice in friends.

You like this one. Probably the one you're gonna be able to stand in this family.

"Don't hog her Jason!" Dick shouts pushing him away before turning to smile at you, " Hi! I'm-"

"Dick Grayson. I know, you spilled your champagne on my dress a few years ago at a New Years gala." You say, still a little bitter about it.

"Oh. heh, right, sorry about that. Again." He says sheepishly.

You turn to Cassandra, " You're Cassandra. You and your friend cornered me in the bathroom."

Cassandra scowls and looks away.

Then you turned to Tim, " And you need to learn how to secure your fire walls better."

Tim looked at you confused, "Um excuse me?"

You smirked, " Just a suggestion. I assume you don't want people to know about your...bats in the attic?"

The whole family froze.

You knew? There was no way.

"Kid, are you hacking again?" Tony said exasperatedly, " You promised you'd stop after the last time."

"Hey it's not my fault Shuri didn't think about changing her password." You say defensively, “ and it’s not like you were complaining when you had me hack into SHEILDS databases”

“What was that!?” Pepper shouts from the kitchen.

“Heheh, nothing dear.” Tony shouts back then in a hushed voice scolds you, “ I gave you fifty bucks to keep that a secret.”

“I didn’t say what you had me retrieve.” You said smugly leaning back in your chair.

Bruce didn’t know how to feel.

On one hand, this teen that objectively hates his family, knows their biggest secret. She can singlehandedly destroy their family and expose them. And she has the means to.

But on the other, she’s a perfect fit for their family. She gets along with Jason, doesn’t let Damian get under her skin, and from the looks of it can definitely take care of herself. Only thing is, again, she hates his wife and by association, his family.

“I’m sorry, hacking? You know that’s illegal right?” Tim asks, still in shock that you got past his security systems.

You turn to him and in a bored tone replied , “Yeah? and?”

Tim stuttered for a bit before going quiet with a blush. It was adorable really.

You had to hold back a laugh, it was fun getting this stuffy family all riled up. Especially when you can see the disapproval in Christines face.

“Tony, you let our daughter participate in illegal activities??” Christine asks with a raised brow.

The table goes silent at the tone of her voice. Knowing that when she uses it someone is really in trouble.

But you roll your eyes because how are you supposed to know what that tone means?

“I let my daughter express herself in a ...healthy way. She knows her limits.” Tony replies cooly, taking a drink and looking back into the kitchen wondering where Pepper went.

”Obviously not. Tony she has no regard for the laws at all! You think i didn’t see the headlines last year?!”

Ah yes, last year you had a slight scandal where you may have punched a pap for trying to get a picture up your skirt but who wouldn’t?!

“ And you let her hang around criminals and terrorists?!”

You scoff, “ Oh please everyone in the Avengers was a criminal or terrorist at least once.”

“Not helping kid.” Tony says, “Christine, you and your family have no right to come into my home and judge my family. I’ve been civil. Hell maybe a little too much. Mainly because if I wasn’t, my wife—err Fiancée, would kill me.”

You snicker, earning a few glares.

“Look the point is, don’t tell me how to raise my daughter. Especially because I was doing it all alone.” Tony finishes with a sigh.

The table goes silent. You were getting tired of all the tense silences today.

“ Look.” You turn to Christine, “ I get that you probably feel guilty or something because you ditched me. And I appreciate that or whatever.”

You were not good at this.

“ But I don’t wanna live with you.”

Christine looks down sadly, “ Y/n I just...I just want to get to know you again. You’re my baby.”

Before you could answer you heard a crash come from the kitchen and smoke fill the rooms.

“ Pepper?!” You cough, “ Dad what’s happening?!”

“ I don’t know. Stay here” He says summoning his suit.

“FRIDAY?!” You shout, but not hearing the AI.

The Wayne’s all looked at each other in panic. They didn’t bring their suits, thinking it was just a dinner.

You turn to them and shout “ Come with me, and stay low!”

You start to lead them to the stair case, knowing that the rooms were relatively safe.

“Come on!” you yell when they don’t follow you.

Christine stands from her seat and makes to follow you before being stopped by Damian.

“Mother we cannot..”

“Damian, I’ve had about enough of you. Let’s go.” She says sternly and follows you. The rest of the family following behind as Bruce nudges Damian.

“ Come on son.”

“Father we don’t know where she’s leading us.” Damian says stubbornly.

“There’s nothing we can do right now.” he coughs.

The sounds of punching and the blasts come from the kitchen.

“Let’s go.”

They finally join the rest of the family. You have them crouched in the hallway.

“ This is James’ room. Dad had it modified just incase he was ever triggered into the Winter Solider again. No ones getting through this door when it’s locked.”

You usher them in.

“Come on Y/n” Christine says reaching a hand out to you.

You smirk, “ What? and miss all the action?”

You close the door and lock it before leaving. Laughing at their surprised faces.

The room is silent.

“ She’s awesome!” Jason says with a laugh.

#tony stark x daughter!reader #crossover #marvel x reader #avengers x teen!reader #poc reader #reader insert #marvel #tony is a good dad #tony stark x teen!reader #batfam x reader

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ohlookanothercartoontofallinto · 2 years ago

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@silvercaptain24 After reading it and I have decided to grade it at a 90% or a A - Certainty nothing to scoff about, I do tend to be a hard grader, and also have a heart made of stone when it comes to Angsty stuff, seeing as I have only ever physically cried over 3 things every put out by media.

Now let’s start with thing’s you did quite well, Angst wise I was certainly impressed with how you described each of the items going. I had assumed that they were alive most of the time however you had me their for a moment with how well you executed that part. Non angst wise I laughed when it came to the pins, I enjoyed that, and honestly was like, “Yep makes sense, I could see myself doing that to if I lived in that world.” Excellent.

Thing’s I think you could improve on but was still well done was Warriors mental state. While what you wrote was realistic, I needed a little more depth. We can actually take an example from WW2, it’s been recorded that a lot of Jewish captives once they lost hope, they chose to die. If you held onto hope, you had a better chance of surviving. I wanted to know what Warrior’s Hope was, he was accepting his fate of death at the end, however that part puzzled me. I don’t think War’s be the one to give the satisfaction of his Brother’s murders the honor of killing him. And even chained he could have attempted ways of offing himself if you wanted to go that direction. As bad as it sounds smashing you head in is a way. Which could have expedited your angst by having his captors being forced to have the execution sooner. I just wanted to know why he chose to live, what was his hope in that dark moment. Being a trained soldier, he would probably know how to handle erratic outburst, however you could also play with the mental warfare he was facing while suffering with grief.

The main thing that took point’s off was the villain’s. Despite what they did I never felt a true sense of danger from them. They just kind of felt there. I wanted to know their motivation behind doing this, what was their reasoning. Is it just angry protestors or where these people an actually threat? Beating him up and starving him while bad just seemed like normal prison stuff. That I would suggest (If mentally prepared for it, and find it a safe and in a educational way, and making sure you will not be mentally scared by it.) Would look up old ways of torture. Maybe they could have cut off one of his toes or a finger. Perhaps taking burning coals and left burnt marks. Actually I believe it be fairly common to shave peoples heads. I simply would have liked to see more angst.

Overall wonderful job. You are a wonderful writer and wonderful student to teach.

____

And to all of those who are going “WHAT THE FLIP!” At me. I consider it a game? Silver and I play were I quote on quote teach Angst 101. Silver has every rite to ignore me and know that she is still a wonderful writer without my words. Its just when I commit to a bit. I COMMIT! Anyways

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Warriors (Linked Universe) & Everyone, Twilight & Warriors (Linked Universe), Time & Warriors (Linked Universe), Sky & Warriors (Linked Universe) Characters: Warriors (Linked Universe), Sky (Linked Universe), Twilight (Linked Universe), Time (Linked Universe), random unnamed antagonists, Wind (Linked Universe), Hyrule (Linked Universe), Wild (Linked Universe), Legend (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Warriors (Linked Universe)-centric, rated M because I’m paranoid, but this is the most intense thing i’ve ever written, Warriors (Linked Universe) Angst, Warriors (Linked Universe) Needs a Hug, Warriors (Linked Universe) has Issues, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, but no one actually dies, i feel the need to let everyone know that, no beta we die like Warriors’ Mental Stability, Good Older Sibling Twilight (Linked Universe), Parental Time (Linked Universe), Drugging, Drugged Drink, Canon-Typical Violence, i think, idk guys i’m paranoid about how bad this actually is, not bad just like intense Summary:

When a supposedly peaceful town turns out to have a grudge against Warriors, he finds himself in a very, very bad situation.

@shyrule @here4dragons

@ohlookanothercartoontofallinto MY ANGST 101 FINAL IS HERE A DAY LATE BUT IT’S HERE

#silver my beloved #Angst 101

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maglors-anion-gap · 2 years ago

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Hehehee Morwen and Maedhros and Húrin for the bingo

-@outofangband

I love the little "heehee" :) we're just passing bingo sheets back and forth knowing it's going to spawn more WIPs on top of our already long wip list, we know what we're doing to each other.

morwen:

Morwen is always right, and she always knows what she's doing. On this we agree. Other characters are not sold on this, and they are thus In The Wrong.

morwen is in the wrong genre not because she doesn't fit in the silm narrative (she does, to the great misfortune of herself and everyone else) but because i want her to have a happy ending and jirt was wrong to deny that to her and her family.

So, most of "Needing therapy" goes hand in hand with "Autism" because Morwen is autistic (this is an objective truth, jirt came to @outofangband and me in a dream and said so). Morwen is not treated well by people who don't understand her and who make no effort to do so, even people who don't have any overt ill will towards her. Trauma of losing her home and her family, the healers in brethil mistreating her, and then being adopted into Hurin's people, some of whom treat her well and some not so much, loss of culture and routine, there's so much to say and my dms with outofangband are like 100k long on this subject.

Something something I wish I had the links to studies on ptsd in neurodivergent children because of the way they're punished for neurodivergence even if it's not recognized as neurodivergence. brief soapbox moment to say that if you think it's okay to bully the weird kids because they need straightening out or w/e, i'm outside your house rn with a knife.

Your honor I love her and her breasts are sublime. Hurin thinks so too. Morwen is the favorite of anyone with a braincell.

Prepare yourselves for not one but two Morwen WIPs that will be dropping in the coming months, both requested by outofangband.

Hurin:

I love hurin as much as I love morwen and it is 100% your fault.

the two that are only half-filled in: hurin is not a himbo because he's very very smart, he just also is very nice and very muscular, and I thought he deserved recognition for that. Fish love hurin and so do women, no one is afraid of him except goblins maybe, who have lots of reasons to be afraid of him.

By the end of his arc he is soggy, both creepy and wet, however you want to call him. Someone get him a towel and a bowl of soup.

He needs therapy for his torture and also for his time in gondolin, which in most verses was likely a net positive experience but also Very Very weird and at a key developmental period in his life. He has some weird feelings about turgon, who he loves like an uncle, but also it's a little like being the poor friend who goes to the house of a rich friend and they show you their walk in closet like - hurin loses his brother so turgon can escape to his palace w/ running water, and he still doesn't give up gondolin's location. Hurin is 1000% a better person than me.

It's not hurin's blood. I mean, some of it is, but it's in his nature to make sure that most of it is other people's. The spitefulness of a wasp facing off with a bear etc etc.

Hurin is a short king and fabulously hirsute. thus gender envy.

Maedhros:

He's 100% feral. His hotness increases with how many years it's been since his last bath. As a Prince in tirion he was, like, aesthetically pleasing but also sexless like a ken doll. Post rescue, there is a devoted fan club, he receives a great deal of mail that ranges from tactless to offensive to scary. This persists literally after his death.

Both fish and women are afraid of maedhros, literally everyone is.

maedhros would not mind if it was his blood, but, like hurin, it's usually someone else's. Eating out of the garbage is sometimes a logical conclusion to his utilitarian state of mental illness.

He's trans *send tweet*

He is Not a himbo despite being a heartthrob because he is way too smart, and also while he is courteous (most of the time) I'm not sure he's always Nice. Your neck hair stands up when he's behind you.

#morwen #hurin #maedhros #games

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acremi · 4 years ago

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HOW INARIZAKI CUDDLES.

— with suna rintarō, riseki heisuke, ren ōmimi

PART 1 ; PART 2.

pt 1 includes: osamu, aran, akagi

pairings: suna, riseki, omimi x reader

summary : suna: you fall asleep on him during a tutoring session. ends with a kiss. riseki: trying to cuddle during a movie date turns into a mess ; heisuke has clammy hands ; ren: cuddling / reading on his lap

when SUNA heard that one of the honor class students had agreed to help tutor him in preparation for the upcoming exams, he was skeptical. very skeptical. he disliked all of his previous tutors, none of them being able to explain anything that was remotely easy enough to follow. not to mention the bored, monotonous tone they all spoke in was just unbearable, and at this point, running extra laps with kita seemed like a much more enjoyable option. even when he met you for the first time, he was still doubtful, but he may have felt the tiniest little flutter in his stomach when he saw your kind smile as you introduced yourself, cheerfully letting him know that you’ve been excited to tutor him.

what he wasn’t expecting was for your help to raise his score by an entire letter grade, earning him a B on the final. it might have been because he actually payed attention when you spoke— chemical formulas and historical dates rolling off your tongue just beautifully; or maybe the way you twirled your hair around your finger, or how you would scrunch your nose in confusion each time you checked his work. it could have also been his sudden increase in motivation, with his (very subtle) desire to see your proud smile and hear your compliments when he got one right again. he realized then, that he had a pretty big crush on his tutor.

today was like every other session: he was working on balancing equations and you were watching him do them— probably to check his strategy for solving them. he did note that you had been much quieter today, but he was still surprised when your head leaned into his shoulder, you being fast asleep. he wasn’t exactly sure what to do in this situation, but he didn’t like the look you had on your face while his shoulder dug into your cheek.

so, he adjusted his sitting position on the floor; using the side of your bed as a backrest and moved you between his legs. this way, your entire upper body could rest on his chest, and he could use your side as a phone rest. he definitely was not about to let the opportunity slip, immediately checking his socials the second he found you sleeping peacefully. he played the video he took today— a one minute clip of osamu kicking atsumu in the back for eating his lunch. next, he checked the volleyball group chat, letting out a quiet chuckle as the chat went silent after kita sent a message. running out of apps to use, he glances back down at you, eyes slightly widening in disbelief when you saw you awake— paying full attention to the screen in front of you.

noticing that suna stopped scrolling, you tilt your head upwards, blurting out a “you should’ve stopped them suna! see-“ pointing towards his screen, “kita’s gonna get you now~” you warned, now looking back up at suna.

he responds with a heavy sigh, followed by a “he wouldn’t get me if i was next to you though,” breaking eye contact to ignore the innocent eyes looking curiously into his as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone.

he hears you let out a confused whine, tilting your head further back to get a better look at him.

“what do you mean??”

he visibly tenses for a second before narrowing his eyes in second attempt to snap himself out of his almost-blushing state, hesistantly leaning down until his face hovered just an inch over yours.

“cuz you’re cute,” he mumbles, lazily leaning down even further until his lips were just above yours,

“and kita wouldn’t scare away whatever’s cute…. so stay,” suna whispers, closing the gap between you.

HEISUKE could not even begin to explain the nervousness he felt as your body pressed up against his, arms wrapped around his middle and face leaning into his side; making him stiffen up and focus even more on the movie playing in front of him. he wasn’t even sure where to put his arms anymore, deciding to awkwardly lay one on your back and have the other resting on an armrest at a perfect 90° angle. any more movements from you and he was sure that he would overheat, making a mental note that his hands were already clammy from the warmth he felt bubbling up inside him.

with his lips tightly pressed into a thin line and his cheeks the deepest shade of red, he took a glance down at you, now seconds away from combusting as he sees your face. he had to immediately tear his glance away, your flustered face already ingrained in his mind. he didn’t know that you were also nervous, cheeks pink and slightly widened eyes looking nervously back up at his before hiding your face into his chest and tightening your hold around him.

it was just too much — for both of you.

OMIMI shifted in his seat, pulling you closer against his chest. the library was packed with students studying for upcoming exams, so the two of you had agreed to share a seat and read through the same textbook together. unfortunately, this meant that you had to read much faster to keep up with ōmimi’s pace, so you were mentally exhausted after just half an hour.

leaning back into his chest to rest your head on his shoulder, you shifted your eyes to take a peek at him, heat rising to your cheeks as he was looking right back at you. your faces were just inches away from each other’s, but the possibility of someone watching you two kiss was just a little too embarrassing.

he instantly noticed your pouting, proceeding to place down the book to wrap his arms tightly around your middle. with this, your body could relax in his hold, letting out a content hum as he gave a small smile in return.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years ago

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Take That!

Corpse Husband & Reader (Female) ft. Streamer Gang

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Suppressed Sadness, Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: What is a friend? Your smile through the tears. The umbrella over your head when it starts raining. The ointment to your wound. But if you wanna put it in a more literal manner, a friend is something that doesn’t have a concrete definition. It can be the person you sit next to in class or the person who’s hundreds of miles away from you and you’re connected to through a Discord call.

Requested by Anon. Hello dear! Thank you so much for your request, sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read if you happen to come across the fic. Love, Vy ❤

There are those days when I wake up excited for a new day. There are also those days when the thought of playing Among Us with my friends is all that gets me out of bed. And then there are those days when not even that can get me to budge. Today is one of those days.

I’d still be in bed right now had I not needed to use the bathroom. On my way back to hide under my covers, I heard my cat’s meow from the kitchen, reminding me she needed to be fed. After tending to that task I just sort of lost will to return to bed either. Speaking truthfully, today is a will-less day. The type of day where I have no idea what to do with myself because I feel so odd and uncomfortable: heavy and bustling head, motivation below zero no matter whether I have zero tasks to tend to or a mountain high pile of work. It’s a laying on the floor and letting my mind eat away at me type of day and I can’t say I appreciate it.

The only thing I have to look forward to is the game of Among Us Corpse invited me to yesterday. Had I known I’d wake up feeling like absolute shit, I wouldn’t have accepted. I just know I’ll be a downer the whole time because I suck at covering up how I feel - my smiling masks and faux happiness don’t cut it but staying quiet is even worse because I’m typically and energetic and bubbly person, always having something to say or a comment to add to the conversation. Always looking to make people laugh.

Well, it’s hard to make people laugh when you feel like a deflated balloon.

I can’t describe the feeling any better than that - I feel empty, maybe a little sad somewhere in the mix, unmotivated. I keep these feelings to myself cause whenever I bring them up people just blow me off, saying I’m describing laziness but more dramatically. Either that or burnout which is sometimes the case, but I’m more than sure that it’s not the culprit for today. You can only blame burnout so many times.

Anyway, I make a mental note, promising myself I’m not gonna bail on my friends regardless of whether my mood gets better or worse. Who knows, maybe a gaming session with them is exactly what I need.

* * *

Not much has changed with my emotional state - I’ve spent a good chunk of the day surfing through TV channels and my socials with nothing else to occupy my mind but the overwhelming knowledge that I’m not feeling ok and that hyperawareness of a void that I feel but cannot describe. At one point, Corpse sent me a text to confirm I’d be participating in the gaming session and I was this close to saying no. This close to coming up with some bullshit excuse and bailing but I didn’t, thankfully.

Here’s the thing about this drop in mood of mine - I know it’s gonna be gone by morning. It bullies me, beats and batters me for only twenty four hours - never more, never less. Like clockwork and as precise as a Swiss watch. And so fucking annoying. No matter what I do, I can’t end it prematurely and I can never wake up feeling down and unmotivated the next morning - there’s always a surge of motivation coursing through me and it drives me to be super productive as if making up for what I didn’t do the previous day when I was in the dumps.

It’s a twisted way of it showing me I’m powerless and at the mercy of a force that, despite being mine and existing within me, I’m completely unfamiliar with. It’s so fucking unfair, it’s disheartening.

“Hi everyone! Sorry I’m late.“ I greet the five people who have already gathered in the Discord call and the Among Us lobby.

Yeah, sorry I’m late, I was contemplating not showing up at all last minute

“Don’t worry about it, many people are running late as you can see.“ Rae replies reassuringly, “How’s your day? Anything spectacular happen?“

I can’t help but scoff, “Yeah sure, a TON of spectacularism in my life on the daily. From the large stack of papers I couldn’t bring myself to touch, to the dusty surfaces all over my apartment I didn’t convince myself to clean - it’s all fabulous over here.”

Fuck, that was too real

“Whoa, where’d all this sarcasm come from?“ Rae asks, sounding genuinely baffled rather than teasing, “It’s never been your strong suit.“

“Neither has unproductivity.“ Corpse, my best friend, chimes in, “Everything ok?“

Well, I admit, I should’ve known better than to have an outburst like that in front of people who have known me for a while now and can probably gauge my emotions even without me admitting to them. I truly don’t know where it came from. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming.

“Nah, it’s ok. I’m just being lazy, I guess.” I’m quick to withdraw and brush off any suspicion. The last thing I want is to worry my friends or, even worse, receive the same response from them: that I’m being dramatic, that I’m attention-seeking, that I’m just lazy and unmotivated as are most people of my generation.

“You know, what people often self-diagnose as ‘laziness’ often turns out to be something more serious. I don’t mean to scare you, but it could be depression.“ Corpse says after a brief moment of silence in the call, his voice soft and cautious as if explaining a complex problem to a kid who’s bound to be hurt by what it’s told.

I can’t help but chuckle. He has no idea how much he’s relieved me by saying that. I always ‘don’t want to talk about it’ and ‘want to change the subject’ while what I truly need happens to be the complete opposite. I need someone to hear me out, I need someone who will not brush me and my concerns off like we don’t matter. I need someone who’ll understand. And if these people who have openly struggled with anxiety or depression don’t get me, who will?

“Yeah, I genuinely thought I thought of myself as a lowlife while I was in college cause I started losing motivation for everything and started fearing what was to come. I began avoiding going out and talking to people cause I felt like I was the sore thumb in the friend group I had - the only one without any specific goal or a dream.“ Leslie says out of the blue, “Turns out I suffered through a burnout so bad it turned into an anxiety/depression combo that I just blamed on being a lazy college student.“

“Same here!“ Toast pipes in, “I was bedridden for a while during the first days of my streaming career, for a very ridiculous reason - I believed I didn’t deserve the attention I was getting and I wasn’t doing as well as people gave me credit for. So that had me crippled with self-doubt for a long while.“

“I still don’t believe I’m doing as well as I get credit for, but oh well.“ Leslie laughs, “I already told you all about my dumpster-fire of a brain, so I’m instead gonna say: what you need is an appointment with a therapist. Also - you need to stop underestimating your struggles. Invalidating yourself and what you’re going through is gonna make things only worse for you. You need to love yourself.“

“And you need us!“ Rae exclaims, “You need the best support you can get and, lucky for you, we’re the best in the business. Count on us always being there for you, Y/N. Cause we always will be.“

“You’re never alone. We’re all just a call or a text away. Especially me.“ Corpse adds, “I’m basically at your service 24/7, just like you’ve always been for me. What are best friends for if not sharing mental struggles and lifting each other up afterwards?“

I don’t know when this smile made its home on my face but it seems to be rather happy with where it is and wants to stay. Something tells me that thanks to these guys, it will indeed stay there for quite some time. And every time it tries to slip away, they’ll be there to bring it back.

“Then let’s lift each other up, shall we? I mean, what better way to do it other than killing each other and getting away with it?“ I attempt a giggle, hiding my emotions behind it like my life depends on it. Chances are they heard all I’m feeling in my voice, but I can only hope they’re not gonna mention it.

“Y/N, hun, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but....you never get away with it.“ Corpse wheezes, causing me to narrow my eyes and frown.

“Oh, you’re so gonna get it now!“ I exclaim, cracking my knuckles before getting my hands on my keyboard, “Start the game! I have a point to prove!“

And just like that, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the clouds have shuffled aside to make path for the sunshine to grace my brain with positivity I was not expecting to feel until tomorrow morning. I can’t give myself the credit for that though - it all goes to these amazing people I have the honor of calling friends.

I may have no power over it on my own, but with the gang’s help, I can take full control of it. And as a middle finger to the melancholy, I’ll do it all with a bright smile on my face.

Take that, brain!

@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

Text

In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I��d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

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