#the angst was *strong* this episode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liffy-feelin-jiffy · 1 year ago

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So you know how some of y’all want Goggles to break from his “happy go lucky” character and snap at some point?

Here’s the idea—what if… and just hear me out for a second: but what if like the S5, I’m gonna go ahead and use all of the S5, what if they tried to bet on him? They come to Splatsville, there’s a tournament coming up, but here’s the kicker, it’s only a 1v1 tournament, meaning that it’s only single player versus another single player; no teams. Like all the other arcs, there’s a big baddie that always comes on top, let’s call her GhostSong. Not even the best eight could best her. The people of Splatsville like to use her tournament wins as an easy way to scam foreign players for their super sea snails because they never truly understand how strong she really is as a player. The S5, however, have seen what Goggles is capable of, so they really don’t hesitate when it comes down to just using him and his potential win for easy snails (and Aloha’s also in on it to try to impress this girl he likes by being all like “yeah, my friend? He’s totally gonna win this thing, just you wait), even up against another big bad because, hey, it’s just another Tuesday to Goggles, what’s it gonna hurt?

So they coax Goggles to join, and it’s really not that hard because the challenge makes him kind of excited, and his own team encourages him to do it so he’s all in on it. He beats down the first foes with ease by being the goofy dumbass he is, but then things start to get serious and it gets the S5 worried because their snails depends on this idiot winning, and they’re determined because not only is it a lot of grub to win, but they risk losing a bunch of snails of their own Goggles loses their bet. Next thing you know, he starts fumbling and just barely wins in this one match, so then that’s when they’re like “alright, we’re heading to the training field.” They start giving him grueling training, like sunrise to sunset kind of deal. Rider is making him lift weights, Army is making him do laps while reading and rereading the squidnet manual, Aloha is trying to get him to do dodging exercises, Mask is trying to teach him how to enhance his Sub weapon skills, and Skull is trying to train him to be aware of his surroundings and stay hidden… Else he’ll get sniped.

With the exception of Aloha sneaking him some protein shakes to stay hydrated and Mask lazy enough to allow him a few breaks, Goggles is just having a rough time. On top of all of that, he’s constantly being pressured by their words, too. They got the idea nailed in his head that if he loses, he’ll disappointment himself, his team, and all of his other friends, especially the S5 since they’re training him. At this point, Goggles is not only physically exhausted, but he’s mentally and emotionally exhausted because all of a sudden, this tournament doesn’t feel fun anymore… But he can’t just back out now, he promised his pals that he would win, so that he could make them and his team proud and put that so called, big bad, no good bully into her place.

… That’s the plan, right?

Of course it wouldn’t take long for Goggles’ teammates and other friends to notice the retched state he happens to be in every time he shows up for another match, and of course they’re gonna be worried out of their minds. Specs is lecturing him about not cleaning some of his scabs he got where he scraped himself on the pavement during training, Headphones is astounded by how tan his skin has become while terrified at how many sunburns he has, and Bobble is confused as to why her happy go lucky buddy isn’t as bright and joyful as he used to be, and it makes her a little sad and worried. His team, including Mitsuami tries to voice their concerns to him, and even his other friends like Emperor, Vintage, Hachi, and even all of the best eight are like “bro, are you good??? 😐” But despite it all, Goggles just shrugs it off, thinking that it’s no big deal. Really, he just doesn’t wanna have to deal with all of them being concerned for no reason—at least that’s what he believes. It’s just how training goes. No pain, no gain.

It’s all going… Manageable, but then there’s this one guy trying to heckle him. A sore loser kind of guy, and he’s trying to give Goggles hell for it. The dude makes the pretty bad mistake of hitting a nerve by making an awful joke about his mother, and next thing you know, he gets clocked right square in the nose and people have gotta hold back a snarling Goggles to keep him from tearing this guy atom by atom. It’s at that point that everyone is HORRIFIED by what’s happening, even GhostSong is shocked and is all like “oh shit 👀” because while Goggles may love his momma to pieces, he’s not the kind of person to just suddenly go off like that. Amongst the S5, Rider tries to help calm him down, but it only leads to Goggles exploding onto him. He starts ranting about how he was expecting the S5, especially Rider out of all the S5, to be proud of him. Except he’s tired, he’s been driven to the edge, and he’s just straight up exhausted with everything and he doesn’t wanna have to deal with anything for a whole month. It’s at this point that even the S5 realize that they went a little too far on him, and they all opt to let Goggles take the day off from training to cool himself down.

Although, it’s the very next day, just a day before the final match between Goggles and GhostSong, team blue decide it’s time to confront the S5. As the leader along with the co captain, Specs and Headphones are angry that a teammate of theirs is being taken advantage of by people who they looked up to and called friends. Meanwhile, Bobble is just upset with how Goggles has been acting and wants to know what happened to make him act like that. That’s when the S5 hesitantly choose to come clean about what’s going on.

Goggles happens to be taking a walk by himself to clear his mind, when he accidentally catches wind of the conversation amongst the S5 and his own team. Too curious to shy away, Goggles decides to eavesdrop, wondering what they’re talking about. Is it about him? Is it plans for their next training session tomorrow morning? Are they saying how they’re dissatisfied in him? Are they proud of him? Or-

Oh… Oh.

Yeah… I mean, you wouldn’t be happy to find out you were being used as a pawn, would ya?

So obviously, Goggles is not happy about this one bit, and in an impulsive fit of passionate anger, hurt, and betrayal, he stomps all the way up to the lobby, fighting back all the tears threatening to spill, he finds a tournament organizer or specialist, and tells them that he forfeits the match. GhostSong wins by default.

The S5 are just plain embarrassed when they find out they’ve been caught red handed, especially when Goggles shows up and announces to everyone that he forfeited the match. His team is surprised upon learning he heard their conversation, and the S5 are stunned at what he’s done, but they suddenly become a whole lot more guilty once the situation settles in an they realize, “man, we were kinda assholes to him...” Skull tries to go after Goggles to apologize, but Goggles wants none of it. No part in it, no words from him, no sorries, carry yourself back to the Asslands, land of the assholes. The rest of team Blue is chewing out the rest of the S5 in front of the ENTIRE TOWN, going on about how they used their friend for a pile of sea snails where everyone else can hear them. Even Aloha’s crush is disappointed in him. Now mans is gonna die alone 😭.

Amidst the crowd, GhostSong is actually quite displeased with the sudden change of mind from her could’ve-been opponent. That’s an understatement, she was not gonna take that as an answer. She was anticipating that match the whole tournament, she knew about team blue the whole time and she was EXCITED to get to play against Goggles because she thought she would get to experience something new for once, other than another egotistical player who she’d just sweep under the feet and kick to the curb once she’s finished beating them in the final match. So… Ghost decides to go have a little talk with him. Said talk actually turns out to be a little motivating to Goggles, and it’s actually just what he needs to get back into higher spirits. She also makes sure no bets are made so no one can take advantage of the game and trade snails. If someone still tries… Then they were gonna have a little friendly talk with her, in the alleyway.

Cut to the match. No surprise that GhostSong is the first to take the advantage and gain dominance over the stage. However, unlike any other major player Goggles ever had to face, GhostSong was playing to have fun, and she wasn’t taking anything seriously, which was a mistake Goggles was doing himself. All of his training with the S5 made him so stiff and too serious in the way he played, and he struggled an embarrassingly long amount of time from the start to the middle. Until he just, let it all go. GhostSong kinda had to help him unwind by playing childishly with him, and it gave him the confidence to unwind and do what he did best, bringing back his true self into the match.

And yeah, he probably goes on and tosses his clothes aside in the match, causing GhostSong to be like “😶” while Specs, watching from the audience is like “Yep, Goggles is back in town. 😑”

At the end of the battle… Goggles loses. Everyone is shocked, especially GhostSong, but he ends up being just fine with it, like, “Eh, I lost. Whatcha gonna do?” Because all that mattered was that he had fun. Not only that, but for the first time in a while, GhostSong smiles a real, genuine smile under her mask. A shake of hands, and the two a now a pair of good friends. (She starts noogying him hehehe NOOGIES).

A little after the match is over, the S5 take it upon themselves to come up and apologize for, well, being piece of shits and using and abusing their friend for rare currency. Goggles… Actually doesn’t forgive them at first, and he probably never will (emphasis on “probably”), as what they did was pretty scummy, but he’s not mad at them no more. He just wants to go back to playing games and having fun with all his buddies like the good ol days, and the S5 are happy with that.

Fin.

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thatgirl4815 · 2 years ago

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Characterization & Relationships (Ep1)

Since we (finally!) have a reasonable look at each of the characters in ep1, I thought I'd try to sort out what's driving them and where the majority of their conflicts will stem from.

Up first:

Ray

What a disaster. The promotional material has done an excellent job of catering to the facet of Ray's personality that he would like others to see: rich, popular, suave, sexy...essentially someone whose got it all put together. But the Only Friends PR is as much a guise as this "rich Ray" personality. In actuality, he's drunk for 99% of the episode, he's sassy, and he's pitifully jealous of Top's relationship with Mew. I'd also wager that his apparent alcoholism extends beyond a "college kid who likes to party too much." Whether or not this becomes a major talking point in the series remains to be seen; not to get into theorizing territory too much, but I suspect part of Ray’s conflict with Sand will be that Sand exposes Ray’s flaws a lot (namely, just how much attention he needs). We already saw that a bit with episode one. But hopefully in drawing out this trait, Ray will change for the better.

All in all, it's clear that Ray is drowning. I think what Ray wants most is company. He might delude himself into thinking he only wants someone of a certain "caliber," given his own wealth and supposed status, but as Khao said, he's someone who needs love. (I also have thoughts on why Ray would have a crush on Mew in particular that might be best-suited for a different post, which—if you’re interested—you can find here!)

I have to admit too that I was honestly expecting to hate Ray, especially in episode one. He was certainly arrogant (for example: automatically assuming that Sand must have slept with him when he was drunk). But all in all, my thoughts on Ray were a mixture of pity and humor. Whereas Boston is shameless in his pursuit of Top (screwing over Mew in the process), Ray spends the episode chaotically pining after Mew, squabbling with Sand, and puking on floors.

^I do know that I want to protect him from whatever it is that's making him sob like this (unless, of course, it's his own asshole-ish behavior towards Sand, in which case it's probably deserved).

*Side Note: I'm wondering at what point Ray's friend group will make mention of his bad drinking habits as a sign of some greater mental issues...I'd expect Mew to bring it up at greater length soon, but maybe he thinks Ray will get defensive. Food for thought.

Sand

Oh Sand. Starting beef in the bathroom right off the bat (pun intended). He’s headstrong and—as I assume is the point—seems to have his life together where Ray does not. He also alludes to his unfortunate financial situation and seems to dislike Ray immediately because of it (perhaps without meaning to).

Sand’s conflict, as far as I can tell, is all physical—financial. But Ray’s is inside. I’d argue that Sand realizes that on some level. I think he’s fascinated by Ray. Once he gets over his annoyance, there’s a hint of curiosity there, maybe even pity.

From Sand’s standpoint, it’s easy to get mad at people like Ray. But we see he’s also forgiving (he states that he doesn’t like to hold grudges), sincere, and helpful. Rather than let Ray attempt to drive home alone (or fall asleep in the bar parking lot), he takes him back to his place, pats his back while he vomits in the toilet, gives him a place to sleep on the couch with new clothes, etc. So really what I’m saying is that Sand is the perfect boyfriend.

At least as far as Ray and Sand are concerned—I’m ready to fight for either one of them. They’re different enough that I think their dynamic will be one to progress slower than the other couples, but in a very meaningful way.

Top

In my opinion, Top is the most difficult character to read. As opposed to Ray's chaotic arrogance, his is dripping with composure. He gives an air of maturity that the other characters lack, and it's the perfect cover for his supposedly dishonest sleeping habits. I think the opening verse in "Let's Try" speaks to him well--he doesn't seek out other men for love. I don't think he's fully committed to being in a relationship with Mew at this point, but his curiosity has been piqued enough to give it a chance. To put it bluntly: he's challenging himself to see just how long it takes to get into Mew's pants. (Part of that challenge might have to do with Boston, to prove that he can make Mew more than a one night stand.)

I wonder if Top gets frustrated by his lack of (physical) intimacy with Mew and that's what drives him back to Boston. He rejected Boston pretty hard in ep1, but I'm curious to know how long that will last. I'd say the earlier the better when it comes to salvaging Top and Mew's relationship.

I'm not sure what I was expecting from TopMew's relationship to start with, but it's taking off at a relatively fast pace status-wise. By the end of the first episode we have Top asking Mew to be his boyfriend, which will surely stir up drama and will likely send both Ray and Boston stumbling into Sand and Nick's arms.

Mew

Mew has been regarded in the fandom as a bit more than he seems. But besides the end-credits clip of him sitting alone, I'm not getting any mysteriousness (yet) from his character. From his interactions, we can tell he has strong values, an intuitive mind, and a distinct sense of self. He knows who he is. (Again, I think these traits connect directly to why Ray is so interested in him.)

I see Mew and Namchueam as the anchors of the friend group. While Ray and Boston are chaotic and self-centered, these two are both looking out for everyone. I also have to admire Mew's conviction when saying no to Top--he isn't going to cave and have a one night stand with a hot, popular guy just because his friends tell him to.

All of these attributes point to one hell of a revenge plot when Top inevitably wrongs him. But despite how reserved and composed Mew seems now, I wonder if that will be what pushes him over the edge and scares away his "nice boy" persona. Mew's composure now could lead him to have the biggest spiral later.

Boston

To put it bluntly: Boston is exactly the kind of playboy dick-face I thought he would be. Neo plays him perfectly. He's arrogant, confident, self-centered, and attention-seeking.

If Top is "the top of the top" (again, pun intended) as far as FWBs go, then Boston can't stand the thought of Top settling for someone he views as lesser-than. Boston's inflated ego is like a blinding light in this episode. While Ray is jealous of Mew and clearly wants to drive Mew away from Top, Boston evidently has no problem directly sabotaging the relationship. The last scene between Boston and Top in the bathroom is proof--if Top had initiated anything, Boston would have had no problem sleeping with him and talking to Mew later as if nothing had happened.

Nick

Nick seems to be unfortunate collateral in Boston's egotistical destruction. At the moment, it’s a beneficial relationship for both of them. There's a spark between them, plus Boston needs another buddy to keep his mind off of his failing pursuits with Top. We haven't seen much of Nick yet besides his *ahem* blatant interest in Boston, so I can't say much beyond that. But from what we saw of his character in the tech store, he seems a little absent-minded, helpful, and generally friendly. I'm interested to see what more of him we will see.

Namchueam

Maybe it's because we haven't seen much of her background yet, but she seems to be the most put-together out of the friend group (with the exception of maybe Mew, but he has his own problems too). It's clear she looks out for her friends and wants what's best for them. Seeing her hyping Mew up about Top was endearing, because it's clear she truly wants him to be happy and live on the edge a little more. I want to know how she's going to get wrapped up in all this mess.

~ X ~

Ok, that's my basic analysis of the characters and core relationships from Ep1. I think everything is developing at a quick pace with a lot of drama already in the works. Excited to see where it goes from here and what everybody else's thoughts are on this mess/+ of a plot, lol.

P.S. me after every new episode of OF:

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smolmakerel · 2 years ago

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"Dos oruguitas... enamoradas... pasan sus noches y madrugadas..."

Sam (ladybug miraculous holder Mariquita [Ladybug], to be specific) stepped out of the portal created by the holder of the rabbit miraculous. Her eyes were wide as she took in the ruined Paris.

Buildings were tipped over and somewhat shattered. A thick fog surrounded the edges of the city, or at least as far as Sam could see, and threatened to come forward and smother her. Glancing down towards the streets, Sam could see they were flooded with water which was steadily rising.

What the hell happened here?

When Sam first came to Paris for a job opportunity (a clever cover for whenever she saw her mother), she never expected to be gifted a pair of earrings for protecting the city from a magical terrorist. She never expected to have a partner, Gatita [Kitten] who acted like she was years younger than her (which, she probably was considering how much she talked about having to get home before her mother came back) who wielded the power of the black cat's destruction with ease.

What she never expected was to see her sister again - so close where she could touch her and not observe from afar.

She didn't want it to be under these conditions, either.

And if Christina hadn't mentioned Tara to her boss before dad... he left, she probably would've left Tara alone in Woodsboro.

"Llenas de hambre..."

Sam looked around in confusion. She knew she heard somebody singing when she first stepped out of the portal, but she figured she had imagined it.

Swallowing, Sam spun her yo-yo around and walked forward with caution. She could see the singing person sitting on the edge of what used to be the news and media tower. They were clad in all white leather, rocking back and forth without a thought.

It was sad to look at. Like a child zoning out to help deal with the pain.

Sam knew what that was like. She knew she deserved to feel that way, though, for what she did.

Leave.

Wait.

"Gatita?" Sam called out.

The singing stopped.

The person tilted their head to the side, the leather ears on their head flicking back before shooting up. They stand up and - oh.

Sam felt sick to her stomach.

"Mariquita!"

That was her partner. But... it wasn't her at the same time.

Gatita was staring at her with a wide grin that suited the Cheshire Cat more than her, and she was thin as a twig. It was as if she hadn't eaten in days.

Maybe months if what Tikki said about how the miraculous could help survive your body for a long while was true.

"You're back! I thought I lost you forever!" Gatita's voice wobbled with tears pent up over time. She took a step closer to Sam who, in turn, took a wary step back. "Oh... You're scared of me."

Sam shook her head. "I'm not scared of you, Gatita. But you... you are akumatized."

She stopped spinning her yo-yo and inched closer to her partner. She was staring at her feet, so Sam gently lifted her head by cupping her face. Gatita's breathing shuddered as she took in the warmth. It hurt Sam's heart more than she would admit.

"Save me..." Gatita whimpered.

Sam nodded. "I will! Where - Where's your akuma?"

Gatita closed her eyes and took Sam's hands in her own. She brought one of them to her chest - over her heart.

"It's right here. I... This kitty got into a bit of trouble and couldn't get out of it."

Sam nodded. "Ok. I got you." She hugged her partner and held back her tears. She had grown to love the troublemaking cat like another sister. "I'll help you."

"You're already helping me."

Before Sam could question the change in tone, she was grabbed by her wrists and thrown above Gatita. Her back hit the roof, and the air exited her lungs harshly.

"F-fuck..." Sam gasped.

"Cataclysm!" Gatita grinned down at Sam. "Once I get your miraculous, none of this'll even matter anymore!"

Sam rolled out of the way and spun her yo-yo in a hurry. Part of the roof turned to ash beneath Gatita's hand and crumbled away.

"Gatita!" Sam dodged another attack.

Gatita screamed. "That's not my fucking name anymore!"

Sam backed away. Her foot hit the ledge. She looked down at the water.

"It's Cheshire now," she growled out. "And she doesn't want to take your miraculous from your corpse."

"You aren't getting my miraculous ever!"

With that, Sam flung herself backwards.

Cheshire dove after her. "You can't run from destiny, Sam!"

... What?

Sam gaped at the cat as she fell. "What?"

Cheshire's grin grew wider. Sam felt nauseous.

"Sam Carpenter! Samantha..." Cheshire raised her hand. "Cataclysm!"

Sam hit the top of a bus and flipped backwards away from the cataclysm. A burst of negative energy shot out in a ring around them, and the water rippled below.

"How..." Sam began with wide eyes, "How do you know my name? We aren't -"

"Supposed to know who each other are?" Cheshire finished for her. She stood up and shook her hand off. "I found out who you were. And look what I did because of it! What we did because of it."

Sam looked at the sunken Paris and took notice of the moon shattered in halves.

They did this? Then where was the future Mariquita?

Cheshire cocked her head and smiled at the unasked question. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

Her face dropped into a scowl, and she raises her arm. A ball of white cataclysm was between her fingers, ready to snap and shoot at Sam.

"Now give me your miraculous!"

●○●○●○●○

Tara blinked as she watched Mariquita exit her room using the window.

"Mariquita?" Tara mumbled, a half smile on her face.

Today was tough for her. It was the anniversary of Sam officially leaving her when she was so young. She had her suspicions that Sam planned on leaving on her 18th birthday, but had to wait until she had more money to do so.

She told Mariquita about how this week would be tough for her, and it looked like she was trying to cheer her up.

Tara smiled.

Mariquita... She was like another sister to her. Deep down, Tara knew she could never replace Sam, but all Sam's been doing since they've met in Paris was piss her off. Mariquita, on the other hand, was Sam before Papi left.

Helpful, nice, loving.

Now? She was kind of annoying. Always stalking Tara in some way.

Tara wanted nothing to do with her. She left for years and decided to reconnect when Tara was grown up and resentful?

Shaking away her thoughts, Tara approached the note left on her bed. She picked it up and frowned.

"What's the hold-up, Bangs?" Plagg flew out from the inner pocket of her jacket. He snickered at her bewildered expression. "What? Cat got you tongue?"

"Sam?" Tara muttered, running her fingers over the signature. "Why would Mariquita give me a letter from Sam?"

Unless...

Tara gasped and nearly dropped the letter. Frantically, she tore the paper open and read it, feeling tears spill down her cheeks.

Plagg, fortunately, stayed quiet while she took the letter in.

She smiled. Then she frowned. "But... if Sam and Mariquita are one and the same, then I..."

Plagg began to panic, showing her a wheel of stinky camembert cheese. "Who cares about Mariquita? We should totally cat out on this delicious cheese!"

"I've got to talk to her! I have to apologize!"

Sam being Mariquita made a hell of a lot of sense!

Mariquita. She was always there for Gatita whenever she did something stupid. Always eager to try and shield her even though Gatita was there to shield Mariquita. Paris couldn't be saved unless Mariquita stopped trying to sacrifice herself and casted her Lucky Charm.

Sam... She was always near where Tara was. Always trying to talk to her. But Tara shoved her away, venom stinging her words, until Sam backed off.

You can't be hurt if you hurt them first.

How could Tara do this to Sam?

"Plagg, I need to go see Sam!" Tara dropped the letter with a firm nod. "I need to -"

"What?! Kid, you can't reveal your identity to her! You aren't even supposed to know who she is!"

Tara smirked. "Who said I had to tell her who I am? She'd probably make me give up being Gatita, and that can't happen."

"Wait! Let me at least finish my cheese!" Plagg cried.

"No time to lose! Plagg, claws out!"

○●○●○●○●

Sam hopped around the fallen Eiffel Tower with Cheshire hot on her trail. The cat was still flinging bursts of cataclysms at her.

"Cheshire, you have to stop!" Sam yelled.

Cheshire's ears flattened. "Stop? So we won't know who each other is?! Why would I do that when I can take your miraculous?!"

Sam flinched away as a cataclysm stings near her arm.

"Lucky Charm!" Sam tossed her yo-yo up and caught... a mechanical pencil?

Cheshire scoffed. "I wish I could rewrite what happened in the past, but there's only one way to do that now."

Sam ran away from the multiple cataclysms sent at her.

"You can't hide from me forever, Sam!"

Sam hid on top of the fallen tower. She spun her yo-yo as she waited for Cheshire to come up.

"Samantha..!" Cheshire sang with glee. "I know you're up here... Did you know that if a person has both the ladybug and cat miraculous, they can grant one wish? I have a perfect wish, Sam... Don't you want to be together forever? Two peas in a pod, thick as thieves! Dos oruguitas."

Had Sam not been in such a panic, she would've noticed that phrase. She would've noticed that only one person called them that.

She would've noticed that Tara was Gatita. Was Cheshire.

But she didn't.

Sam revealed herself and threw her yo-yo at Cheshire. It wrapped around the baton attached to her back and yanked it back into her hand. Cheshire growled in surprise.

"Your time's up, akuma!" Sam broke the baton and - "What?"

Nothing.

Cheshire called her cataclysm again. "Stop trying to leave me! You can't leave me!"

She slammed her palm on the tower, and spider webs crept towards Sam. She didn't have any time to swing her yo-yo before she was falling a hundred feet into the water below.

Cheshire breathed heavily. She shook her head. "No no no no! SAMANTHA!"

She pulled at her hair and laughed.

●○●○●○●○

Sam sat down beside Danny with a sigh. She met him in New York sometime after leaving California. They became... close... and now he's trying to help her reconnect with Tara.

Trying being the keyword there.

Once Sam heard Christina was moving and taking Tara with her to Paris, she used almost all of her money to buy a plane ticket. Danny, the stupidly handsome man, decided to tag along and pay rent for a shared apartment. From there, he helped establish their cover story for why they moved to Paris.

She appreciated the help, but it was really unnecessary.

Danny only gave her a look of disbelief, and Sam relented.

"Did you give it to her?" Danny asked.

Sam sighed. "Yeah."

"Then why are you so sad still?"

She shrugged.

She wanted to be in Tara's life again, but she didn't think Tara would want to let her in again. She was more of a big sister to Gatita than to Tara.

And she deserved it. She left. She left Tara all alone with that woman. It was all her fault.

"Sam." Danny nudged her.

Sam didn't bother looking up. He probably was going to say something so attractively stupid in an attempt to make out under the Eiffel Tower.

"Sam?"

Now that's new.

Sam snapped her attention up to see Tara. She came.

Tara looked nervous around Sam, shuffling on her feet, but she was determined.

"I uh... I got your letter," awkwardly, Tara said. Her eyebrows come together in distress. "Did you mean it? That you'll never leave me? That you'll always be there?"

Sam stood up slowly. She stepped forward and took her sister's hands in her own. Smiling, Sam nodded.

"I meant every word."

Tears wobble on Tara's eyelid. "¿Prometes? [Do you promise?]"

Sam brought her into a tight hug and kissed the top of her head. "Nunca romperé este. [I'll never break this one.]"

Tara began to cry.

And Sam was true to her words. Much to their mother's disapproval, Sam and Tara became close again.

Tara kept her identity as Gatita a secret from Sam, and Sam did the same. Tara felt like it didn't really count since she knew Sam's hero identity.

She was guilty. Sam kept next to nothing from her while Tara remained guarded at all times. At least, with part of her life. It was like she wasn't opening up to Sam at all.

And Sam obviously felt that way, too.

She was leaving Paris. She was leaving Tara. She was leaving. Again.

Fucking again.

Tara wanted to lash out when she saw the tears, but Sam had already ran away. Fuck her, then! Tara didn't... she didn't... need her...

She would be lying.

It was suspicious how fast the akuma came. And it was headed straight for Sam.

At first, Tara hated to admit, she thought about letting the akuma get her sister. She was so angry at Sam for breaking her promise. But then how would Tara stomach hurting her akumatized sister?

She revealed herself while cataclysming the akuma.

She didn't expect that information to get back to the villain.

○●○●○●○●

Sam hit the water and shivered. It was freezing.

She looked around underwater as she put her yo-yo to her mouth to breathe. She spotted two figures on the ground, frozen in time.

She swam down towards them and gasped. One of them was the villain. The woman had her arms up and blocking something.

The other one...

Sam's eyes went wide. She reached out and touched the scared face of herself. She crumbled away in the water.

Nauseous, Sam swam to the surface and threw her yo-yo at the nearest building. On her hands and knees, Sam dry heaved and shook all over.

"Do you see now? Why I need you miraculous?"

Sam shook her head. "No, this can't be the only way..!"

"Dios mio..." Cheshire groaned, head tipped back. She stamped her foot on the ground. "You saw what I did. What I became. You can't save me. I was doomed from the start."

Cheshire held out her hand, eyes begging for Sam to cooperate. "Please, Sam. Please give me your miraculous, and we can fix everything together! You won't have to leave me!"

Sam took the opportunity to grab Cheshire's tail-belt and break it, but no butterfly.

Cheshire scowled. "You aren't even listening to me. But I should be used to that by now, right?! No one ever listens to what I want! I'm always left behind!"

Cheshire began to cry. "Why do you keep breaking your promise?! Why can't you stay with me?!"

Sam couldn't dodge the kick to her stomach and laid on the roof in pain, grasping at the spotted armor on her body.

Cheshire shook her head, muttering to herself. "No, you can't hurt her. You need her, she needs you."

Sam backed away, holding her stomach. She knew she was cowering on the ground while Cheshire gathered herself, and that wasn't a smart move on her part. However, she would rather face her partner when she had more clarity than when she talked to herself.

"If I can't have your miraculous, then no one can! Mega Cataclysm!" Cheshire's hands began to shake as she raised them to the sky, a large ball of growing white on her palms. "I'll destroy everything! Not a single fucking atom will be left of the universe when I'm done! ¡Y ese es una promesa que nunca solucionaré! [And that's a promise I'll never break!]"

Sam clenched her jaw. "Wait!"

Cheshire stared at her expectantly.

"I'll give you my miraculous! Just stop! Please!"

The Cataclysm flickered out of existence. Cheshire shook her sore wrists.

"Sorry it had to be like this, Sam." She didn't sound particularly sorry. In fact, she was gleeful.

Sam stood and bit her lip. Cheshire tapped her foot, impatient.

It reminded Sam of Tara, in a way.

"I'm sorry you ended up like this, Gatita," she said.

Cheshire rolled her eyes. "It's Cheshire now."

Sam closed her eyes as Cheshire walked over and rested her head on Sam's chest. Her tense body relaxed against the older woman.

"But I'll forgive you." Her watery voice made Sam slow in her deceit. "I always will, Sam."

Sam snatched the bell from Cheshire's chest and backed away. Her heart burned at the betrayal in those blue eyes.

"Your time's up, akuma!" Sam broke the bell, and the akuma flew out. She quickly caught it and purified it.

Cheshire changed back into her Gatita.

Gatita looked around in confusion, taking in Paris in silence, and her eyes caught Sam.

"Sam?" Gatita questioned, confused. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Sam fought off the urge to hug Gatita tight and never let her go.

Instead...

"I'm sorry," Sam stated in an attempt to remain formal. "We aren't supposed to know each other's identity."

"You aren't my..." Gatita flinched, hurt at the rejection, but she nodded. "I... understand. It's better this way."

Just then, the portal opened and Cottontail poked her head through. Her ombre hair was frizzy as if she was the one running around fighting an akumatized Gatita.

"Uh, hello? We have to get going!" Cottontail said, hopping around. "What are you waiting for?"

Sam looked down at the pencil in her hand. It clicked in her head.

"I know what to do! Gatita, I know how to fix everything!"

Gatita was surprised at the tight hug she was pulled into, but she welcomed it nonetheless. She inhaled Sam's scent and nodded.

"You always do," she chuckled. "I trust you, Sam."

Sam pulled back to run to the portal.

●○●○●○●○

Tara didn't know what to do!

How did things turn out like this? Her sister was Mariquita and her mother -

Christina fucking Carpenter was Monarch. She was the villain terrorizing Paris.

All because she wanted to put her fucked up family back together. A family she tore apart with her lies.

But...

Everyone always left because of Tara, right? That's always what Christina told her, and it's been true so far.

No! Fuck!

It was all her fault!

How could Tara do this?!

"Tara! Mi vida [my life], don't listen to her! She's trying to get in your head!"

Sam.

Tara shook her head. She couldn't do it! She wasn't as strong as Sam, she couldn't fight off the akuma already infecting her mind.

"Sammy..." Tara sobbed. "I-I can't..!"

Sam shook her head. "No! You have to fight her! I believe in you!"

Monarch - No. Christina didn't bother saying anything. She simply grinned. She knew she had Tara right where she wanted her.

When Tara blinked, her black leather turned white and her eyes bled from green to blue.

She didn't know what to do anymore. She couldn't listen to them! She couldn't... take it!

"Sammy..."

Sam closed her eyes. "It's ok. Te amo, Tara. [I love you, Tara]"

Tara screamed, and the world exploded in a bright light.

○●○●○●○●

Tara blinked as she watched Mariquita exit her room using the window.

"Mariquita?" Tara mumbled, a half smile on her face.

She told Mariquita about how this week would be tough for her, and it looked like she was trying to cheer her up.

Tara smiled.

She walked over and picked up the note. She opened it and read the contents.

'Tara,

Life may seem difficult right now, but I know you'll get through it just fine. I've had my eyes on everyone in this city, and I've seen the amazing things you've done for it. You are special, and you are worth it.

If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always available. I'll always listen.

I know we've only worked together a couple of times because of you being targeted by an akuma, but I care about you. You'll always be important to me, even if we never become close outside of my hero identity.

You matter to people.

-Mariquita'

"Bangs? Kid?" Plagg held up a piece of camembert and looked away, embarrassed. "Don't cry. It'll ruin my cheese mood."

Tara chuckled tearfully. "Sorry, just... Mariquita cares about me."

And, maybe, that's good enough for Tara for now.

~*~

"Dos oruguitas... enamoradas..."

Mariquita sat down next to Gatita as she sang softly into the Paris night.

"Where'd you hear that song from?" Mariquita asked.

Gatita turned her bright gaze onto Mariquita, and the woman smiled. It really felt like she was talking to Tara again.

"It's from a movie that came out a couple years ago, but... when I was younger, a friend and I used to call ourselves oruguitas. It means -"

"Caterpillars."

Gatita blinked in surprise before laughing. "Yeah, I should've figured you knew 'cause of your name and all."

Mariquita smiled. Gatita snuggled close and rested her head on her shoulder.

Mariquita and Gatita watch the full moon behind the lit up Eiffel Tower in silence.

#scream #scream 2022 #scream vi #scream au #my writing #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #fuck christina carpenter #miraculous au #I had an idea and ran with it #Yes I watch mlb. Yes I absolutely despise it. Yes I love it. We exist.#I think that's every mlb fan though #When your abandonment issues are so strong you destroy the world #Tara being the black cat makes so much sense to me #Sam being ladybug is less understandable #BUT Tikki helps Sam realize that it's ok to ask for help and receive help in return #Plagg just likes how relaxed and chaotic his holder is #Plus more cheese for him #If you haven't watched the show at least watch Chat Blanc in season 3 it's one of the only good episodes in that season #And has a lot of angst #Which explains the fuck christina carpenter tag too just so you know #Christina forcing Sam to break her promise and leave Tara 😬#I'm so tired. I wrote this for 3 hours last night then fell asleep then woke up and finished editing it #Oh well #Sleep is for the weak

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megumiivs · 1 year ago

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i need the full version of specialz by king gnu out asap !! the opening is so good 🙏🙏

#can we talk about the new episode though???#yuuji is so green flag i love him 😭😭#stay strong soldiers #[ lilith loves jjk 🐼 ]#jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen season 2 #jujutsu kaisen #the happiness before the pain

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ittybittyfanblog · 1 month ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry. (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment.

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream.

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off.

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black.

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications.

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending.

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts.

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

… You cave on the fifth day.

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment]

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours.

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me.

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word.

Dont shut me out.

Please.

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams.

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them.

You set your phone down.

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops.

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered.

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb.

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling.

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out.

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space.

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then.

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow grey.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll.

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will.

––––

“Hey, you okay?”

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.”

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?”

Anytime, darling.

I mean it.

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears.

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?”

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store.

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath.

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent.

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain.

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor.

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back.

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most.

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make.

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes.

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button.

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless.

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision.

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized.

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing.

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does.

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope?

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far.

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin.

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red.

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark.

And unread mail. So much unread mail.

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you.

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you.

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being.

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps.

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red.

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues:

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating.

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you?

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break.

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you.

You’re afraid of what’ll come next.

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him.

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you.

As if he’d allow such a thing.

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

…

And just like that, he concedes.

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other.

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even.

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?”

“Of course.” Whatever you want.

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head.

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart.

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound.

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him.

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other.

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact.

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched.

“My lo—”

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.”

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt.

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?”

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?”

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine.

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily.

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke.

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption.

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks.

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape.

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling.

I love you.

I love you in ways that consume me.

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you.

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.”

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop.

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading.

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone.

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.”

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise.

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?”

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did.

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his.

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.”

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time.

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent.

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating.

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you.

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours.

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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r6eduss · 5 months ago

Note

Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader angst #daryl dixon x reader fluff #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #norman reedus

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themultifanshipper · 2 months ago

Text

Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.

Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'

You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.

He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.

But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.

You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.

He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.

You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.

You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.

Your sergeant was a different kind of man.

Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…

But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.

Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.

Until today.

Your last day before returning home.

The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.

You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.

And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.

“Hello, beautiful”

“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.

You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.

“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”

You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.

…

Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.

He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.

Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.

But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.

He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.

The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.

He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.

You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.

Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.

You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.

“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.

“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”

The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.

He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.

You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.

You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.

Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.

His heart broke.

“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”

He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.

He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.

You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.

He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.

You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”

It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.

“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”

He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”

…

His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.

Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.

“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.

You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.

He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.

You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”

He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.

You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.

You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.

For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.

You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.

You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.

You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”

The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.

“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.

“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.

“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”

You sighed. In a perfect world.

“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”

Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.

“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”

You blinked at him.

“You don't have to do that”

“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”

You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.

“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.

He smiled “No problem”

“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”

His eyes softened as he looked at you.

He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.

You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.

“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”

You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.

“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”

That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.

“You…” he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”

You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”

He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”

You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”

Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.

Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”

You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.

“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”

Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.

You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.

“Of course”

His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.

“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.

“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”

“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.

“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”

He sighed. “I can’t. I have- uhh, a problem.”

“What problem?”

“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”

Your breath hitched. “You mean…”

The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.

“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”

“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”

Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.

“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”

His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”

“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.

“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”

“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.

Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.

It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.

And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.

You felt him shiver behind you.

“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”

His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”

A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.

“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”

Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.

“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.

He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.

He bit back a moan.

He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.

You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.

He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.

He was just a man after all.

And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.

But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.

And now you were getting turned on.

It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.

You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.

The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.

The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.

You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.

It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.

You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.

“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.

You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.

He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.

“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”

You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.

“Oscar”

“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.

“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.

Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.

“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”

“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”

His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.

“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.

“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.

“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”

“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.

His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.

He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.

“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.

You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.

“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.

He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.

“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.

You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.

You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.

Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.

You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.

“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”

You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.

He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.

You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.

When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.

He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.

Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.

So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.

It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.

Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.

So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.

#my thots #oscar thots #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #f1 #formula 1 #op81

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lex-the-flex · 8 months ago

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Come Back to Me

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warning(s): Basically porn with little plot. MEGA FLUFF, MEGA ANGST, MAJOR SADNESS + talks of character death, SMUT – 18+ oral (f! receiving), and precious aftercare + pillow talk.

A/N: No thoughts, just grieving smut with Jace. This CHOKEHOLD this character has on me and we’re only one episode into Season 2. I don’t know if I’ll continue to write for Jace, just wanted to share this idea.

He couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried. The air just refused to enter and fill his lungs as the overwhelming scents of salt and snow continue to remain in his crimson cloak.

You somehow manage to take away all the pain and sadness of grief just by standing beside him. Joining Jacaerys Velaryon on the balcony of your shared room, he just can’t wrap his mind around a calm state amidst the chaos. Briefly touching his shoulder, a long awaited sigh of relief escapes his lips.

“You okay?” You ask.

“I’m fine.” He lies, turning to face you.

Leaning his forehead against your own, the overpowering scent of sea salt and the faint smell of lilies lingers on your skin.

Wrapping his arms around your frame, Jace holds you tight, never wanting to let go. Relishing in your presence, an unwelcome wave of emotions crosses over Jace. Something wild, yet filled with sadness takes over him almost instantly. However, instead of shedding tears, he acts on the other side of what he’s feeling. Jace slowly guides his lips against your earlobe, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“You truly are my guiding light in this world, Y/N. You are the one that I was thinking about when I was riding Bermax home. To have my lips on yours and my thoughts at the door while being lost in you. I want to fuck you until you scream so the whole Palace can hear. To let them know you’re mine.” Jace explains, pulling you closer.

Feeling your breath hitching in the back of your throat, Jace nibbles on your neck, and you surround your arms around his broad shoulders. Picking you up in a swift motion, Jace captures his lips on yours before walking back into the dark room.

Collapsing with the large desk, Jace gently sits you down, his dark brown orbs staring into your own, eager with lust.

“Enlighten me, my Prince. Let me know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.” You say, gasping as Jace unties the sash of your trousers.

Smirking in delight, Jace carefully undos the straps of your heels, and slides your trousers down your legs. Basking in your body, his once boyish eyes light up with a devilish intent.

“By the Gods… so sweet for me.” He states.

Running a series of hungry kisses along your legs, you uncontrollably shiver at the sensation. Gripping your hips in his fingers, Jace teases yours throbbing folds with his tongue, knowing how to get you numb.

“That’s my girl.” Jace whispers into your skin.

Closing his mouth around your entrance, Jace props your leg around his shoulder. Swirling his tongue past your opening, a ragged moan escapes your lips, and you run your fingers through his dark locks. Feeling your pulse rise in your fingertips, a strong growl emanates from Jace’s chest, allowing his hunger for your lust to break the very windows of the room.

Leaning your head back, multiple multicolored stars fill the darkness behind your closed lids. Briefly moving your hips against the wooden table, a tingling sensation starts to rise in your core, signaling that you’re reaching your end.

“Jace, please. I can’t…” You beg, scrunching Jace’s dark curls in your fingers.

Reaching up to cup your breast, Jace continues to venture deeper inside of you, determined to taste every inch of you. Suddenly, your legs spasm and you quickly reach your end.

“…Jacaerys…!” You gasp, not caring if anyone hears you.

Jace’s grip around your hips loosens and he crawls up your body, cocooning your shaking form in his arms. Burying your face in his neck, the collective scents of Vermax, water lilies, and the vast ocean being a wonderful distraction from the events going on outside your room.

Gazing at Jace, the two of you erupt in a small moment of laughter and delightful smiles that felt long overdue. Running your fingers through Jace’s locks, you bring his chin up to face you.

“I love you, Jace. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” You address, tracing the outline of his strong face.

“And I you.” He vows, covering you with his cloak.

a/n pt. two ~ oml this man.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x you #jacareys x y/n #jacareys fic #jacareys velaryon smut #harry collett #george rr martin #game of thrones

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inkspiredwriting · 7 months ago

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betrayal

A/N: four stages of breakup, I'm currently in stage two: Anger xD. A sweet story with a sweet five who loves y/n more than anything? At the moment I just don't see it. That's why I don't post any of my stories, but rather write new stories where Five is an asshole. That doesn't mean that I'll never post sweet five x Y/N stories again, it just means that I'm still angry at the moment, and in order to be able to write again, it helps me to let my anger out

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

The world had barely spun for a few hours since Five and Lila had vanished, but when Five and Lila finally returned, Y/N knew something was wrong. she stood in the doorway, watching Five and Lila enter the living room, their faces marked with weariness, their eyes carrying the weight of experiences that no one else could understand. The moment Five met her gaze, Y/N felt her heart clench. Something was wrong. There was a distance in his eyes, a hesitation in his movements that hadn't been there before. This was not the same man she had fallen in love with, the man who had fought tooth and nail to survive countless apocalypses, who had faced the end of the world and returned to her every single time. This man was different—distant, almost as if a part of him had never truly come back.

Lila stood beside him, her presence like a shadow that Y/N couldn’t shake. she had always known Lila was fierce, cunning, and strong, but now she could see something more—a bond between Lila and Five that hadn't been there before. It was in the way they stood, too close, the way they glanced at each other as if sharing secrets. It made Y/N’s stomach churn with a sickening sense of betrayal.

She knew something had changed, something that would shatter her world.

It wasn’t long before she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Five…” Y/N’s voice wavered as she stepped forward, searching his face for any sign of the man she loved. But he looked away, his jaw tightening as if he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

the tension in the air was palpable. Diego stood beside Lila, their three children clinging to their mother, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Y/N felt the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Five’s silence was deafening, and when he finally spoke, his words cut through her like a knife. “We were gone for seven years, Y/N. Seven years in a timeline we couldn’t escape.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. “I know it was hard, but you made it back. You’re here now. We can fix this, Five. We can go back to how it was.”

Five shook his head, the pain in his eyes unbearable to witness. “It’s not that simple. Things changed… I changed. I didn’t want this to happen, but…I fell in love with Lila.”

Time seemed to stop. The world around Y/N blurred, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart shattering into a million pieces. She stared at Five, her mind refusing to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth. Lila? Lila, who was married to Diego, who had three children with him?

Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her vision narrowing as the weight of his confession settled on her shoulders. She wanted to scream, to hit him, to do anything to make the pain go away, but all she could do was stand there, trembling with fury and betrayal.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice low and deadly. "You absolute bastard."

Five recoiled as if she had slapped him, but she didn’t care. The anger was boiling over now, a volcano ready to erupt. The room was deadly silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone was staring at them now, the shock evident on their faces. Diego’s expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Lila, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.

"You want to know what kind of man you are, Five?" Y/N spat, her voice shaking with fury as she faced him and the others. "You’re an asshole. An ungrateful, selfish asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to remember the woman he was supposed to love!"

The room fell into stunned silence, everyone staring at Y/N with wide eyes. Five opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off.

“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve fought for, you go and…fall in love with someone else? And not just anyone, but Lila? Diego’s wife? The mother of his children? I would rather sleep with a mannequin than ever fall in love with someone else, but I guess that’s the difference between us, isn’t it?"

Five flinched, but he didn’t back down. “I never meant for this to happen, Y/N. We were stuck there for seven years. We didn’t think we’d ever make it back.”

“So you gave up?” Y/N’s voice was rising now, the anger bubbling over. “You just gave up on us, on me? You preferred to think about having sex with Lila instead of finding a way back to me? The old Five never gave up. He never would’ve stopped fighting to get back to the people he loved. But you…you’re not him anymore, are you?”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned her gaze to Lila, her voice dripping with venom. “And you…you disgust me. How could you do this to Diego? To your children? You betrayed them. You betrayed all of us.”

Lila’s face paled, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Diego stood beside her, his expression still unreadable, but Y/N could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to hide.

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. The moment she was outside, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down her face as she collapsed onto the cold ground.

She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing uncontrollably, the pain too much to bear. She had lost him. The man she had loved more than anything, the man she had waited for, had hoped for, had fought for…he was gone. And in his place was someone she didn’t recognize, someone who had betrayed her in the worst possible way.

Y/N had no idea how long she sat there, crying until there were no tears left to cry.. She felt completely and utterly alone, as if the world had turned its back on her.

But then she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see Diego standing beside her. His face was filled with sorrow, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a softness in his expression that offered a small comfort.

“Y/N…” Diego’s voice was gentle as he sat down beside her. He didn’t say anything for a while, just sat there in silence, letting her cry. When she finally managed to calm down enough to speak, her voice was hoarse, broken.

“I don’t understand, Diego. I don’t understand how this happened. How could he fall in love with her? After everything we’ve been through, how could he just…forget about me?”

Diego sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I really don’t. Lila and I…we had our problems. I wasn’t always the best husband, and I know why things went wrong between us. But you and Five…you two were perfect together. You were the strongest team I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand how he could do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, the pain still raw and aching in her chest. “I thought we had something special. I thought he loved me more than anything.”

“He did, Y/N. I know he did,” Diego said softly. “I think…I think being stuck there for so long messed with his head. It changed him in ways we can’t understand. But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know how to move on from this, Diego. I don’t know how to live in a world where Five isn’t…mine.”

Diego put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Y/N leaned into him, grateful for the comfort even as the pain tore at her heart. She felt Diego’s chest heave as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than anyone I know. You’ll get through this, I promise. And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.”

Y/N nodded, though the pain still felt unbearable. She clung to Diego, letting the tears flow freely again, her heart breaking with every sob. She had lost the man she loved, the man she thought would be by her side forever. And now, she had to find a way to pick up the pieces and move on, even if it felt impossible.

As the day wore on, the two of them sat together, their grief shared and understood. And while Y/N knew the road ahead would be difficult, she also knew she wasn’t alone. She had her family, her strength, and the hope that someday, the pain would lessen, and she would find a way to heal.

But for now, all she could do was cry and try to make sense of the shattered pieces of her heart.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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wonryllis · 9 months ago

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dear future husband (m) | lee heeseung.

i can't say i do without you.

PREVIEW. you always get what you want, spoiled with the love of everyone around you. and it's all innocent love, at least that's what everyone thinks. it comes with much surprise therefore, when heeseung makes a move on you. thirteen long years of being in the brother zone having made him utterly clueless that if he’s going to date you he has to pass through your actual brothers first. and he knows how scary they can be. especially since they are known to have a sister complex and he’s been the third scary one with them, numerous times before.

OR WHERE, bimbo heeseung has no idea what the fuck to do with his feelings for you who are oblivious as fuck and your brothers who are overprotective as fuck.

MEET THE CAST. insanely love struck lee heeseung with his spoiled rich girl!reader ft. yeonjun, soobin, the rest of txt and the rest of enhypen. NSFW VERSION: BRAT TAMER heeseung with his BRAT girl.

GENRE & WARNING(S). social media!au + written chapters, SMUT MDNI!!! in the form of written chapters later on in the series, fluff, humor & crack, minimal angst, lots and i mean lots and lots of swearing and dirty jokes and everything nsfw. college!au, nonidol!au, neighbors to lovers!au, childhood friends to lovers!au. heavy on sister complex! rest other warnings will be stated in respective chapters.

UPDATE SCHEDULE. discontinued.

ׅ ꢾ꣒ profiles, character introductions & the groupchats. ( PLAYLIST ) theme song, code blue!

YEONIE NOTES. incase someone wonders if this is incest, no it’s not, they are not related by blood. sister complex. a state of strong attachment and obsession to sisters, always having them as their first priority. FIC ASKS: ask about the characters!

EPISODES rolling ..

000. prologue: the backstory.

001. arranged date gone wrong

002. it's a shame yn wants you

003. all good when all delusional

004. can you afford her a McLaren? TWT + WRITTEN ( 2.4k )

005. heeseung finally— [REDACTED]!

006. you went as my arm candy

DISCONTINUED!

i think its obvious enough why, the lack of response and enthusiasm from readers has made lose all motivation to continue this any further. i was so excited to revamp it but it seems it isn't the case for the other side. feedbacks are what keep most if not all writers going and absence of it for this one has just rid me of all interest i had to share it with you all. thank you to those who read it, and i apologize those who were looking forward to read it. this is it. over and done, with this kind of support i'm never doing a series on here again.

FIRST TAGLIST @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @aaa-sia @criminalyun @oddracha @satan-223 @diorsyun @hooniehon @fakeuwus @caramelcandescence @intromortal @kookify @yutasberryy @sumzysworld @nikiswifiee @shuichi-sama @primroselover @rayofsunshineeee @aishigrey @yjwluvs @soraokkotsu @nyfwyeonjun @srhnyx @trashx678 @wondipity @winuvs @hoondiors @niniissus @firstclassjaylee @biancaness @enhaz1 @sophi-ee @un06 @heelariously @d-earlog @pharaways @ethelia @eneiyri @secretbarbariangardener @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @microwavedstrawberr1es @randomanothercreature @thatsoraya @graythecoffeebean @rikibun @jaeyungxrl @mxxnintheskyreblogs

#( 💍 ) 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #PROFILES WILL BE OUT TOMORROW!!#k-labels #enhypen smau #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung smut #enhypen social media au #enhypen heeseung imagines #heeseung imagines #enhypen social au #enhypen socmed au #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts

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triptuckers · 1 year ago

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the comfort of home - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Hii, I just finished watching both episodes of PJO and I wept as I beheld Sally's maternal love unfold on the screen, knowing it before hand from the books. Thus, I was pondering if you might entertain a request—a tale where a daughter of Hades (angsty) forges a close bond with Percy, and Sally, in her gracious warmth bless her soul, adopts her into their lives because, after all, they're nearly kin, entwined by the delicate threads of almost-cousinhood." Pairing: percy jackson x hades!reader Summary: after a typical day for a demigod, you just need a safe space to go Warnings: mentions of fighting, injuries, blood, throwing up, swearing, angst Word count: 2k A/N: first of all anon are you a writer?????? bro those words..... pls write more !! thanks for your request, enjoy!

you're walking down the streets of new york city, feeling utterly miserable. you're soaked through because of the rain and you're hurt.

everyone knows that demigods don't exactly live a quiet life. especially kids from zeus, poseidon or hades. still, most of the times you're fighting for your life you're on a quest.

not simply on your way home.

but today was different. somehow you brought not one but all three of the furies down on you. you don't even know how, you weren't doing anything.

it was a tough fight, but you stood strong. you couldn't prevent the dozen little cuts that littered your body. you're bruised over and on top of that it started to rain, messing with your sight.

right now you're on your way to your foster home. but it's a slow journey. you're not sure you want to go there. and you're not sure how much the mist hides for them.

sometimes if you got home all bruised you told them you got in a fight. sometimes they didn't spare you a second glance.

you stop in the middle of the street. at this point you've been walking for so long you don't even notice the rain anymore.

you turn around, heading another way. there's one other place you could go. you're lost in thought, and most of the people don't pay you any attention. perks of living in new york, you guess. new yorkers just don't care.

when you get to the familiar building, you feel a sense of calm coming over you. somehow you always found yourself back here. as you walk up to the entrance, someone leaves just as you arrive, so you can slip in the door before it closes.

you walk the stairs slowly because of your injuries. every step hurts and takes tremendous effort.

when you finally get to the right floor and walk to the door, you just stand in front of it. you're fully aware you're dripping rainwater on the floor, but suddenly you can't bring yourself to knock.

why are you even here? you don't want to be a burden.

they've told you that you can always come over, no matter what. but it's late at night, it's raining outside, you're soaked.

you're standing there, debating wether or not to go in, when you hear a voice on the other side of the door.

the person is softly singing along to a song that's playing.

tears well up in your eyes as you recognise the song. you were the one to recommend it.

you raise your hand and knock on the door.

'coming!' says the voice.

moments later the door opens to reveal a woman.

her eyes briefly widen at the sight of you, scanning your body for injuries. then her eyes soften.

'oh, what happened to you, sweetheart?' says sally.

her gentle voice is what pushes you over the edge, breaking down in tears in front of her.

sally pulls you over the doorstep and closes the door. she pulls you into a hug, not caring that you're soaked.

you wrap your arms around her and cry. you let all of the anxiety rush out of you as sally rubs circles on your back and whispers soft words in your ear. you ignore your aching body and allow yourself to just be here in the moment.

after a while, sally pulls back and holds you at an arms length.

'I'm so sorry for dropping in like this, miss jackson.' you say softly.

'y/n, you know you're always welcome here. and I've told you to call me sally.' she says kindly.

you nod. 'is percy home?'

'he's out to the movies with grover. do you want me to ask him to come home?'

'no, he's out having fun. it's alright. could I just..'

'why don't you take a shower first, hm? I bet you're freezing.'

you sigh softly. that does sound good.

'yeah, alright.'

'you go take a shower, then I'll make tea and see if I can do something about that.'

she pointedly looks at the cut above your brow. you totally forgot that was there.

'I don't have any clothes.' you say softly.

'that's alright, just borrow some from percy. he won't mind.' says sally.

'thank you.'

you walk towards percy's room to get some clothes when sally calls your name, making you turn around again.

'you're not a burden, you know that right. we love having you over.' says sally.

you swallow back the new tears that threaten to fall. sometimes you forget she knows you so well.

'thanks.' you say, entering percy's room to get some clothes.

you pick a shirt, sweater and sweatpants form percy's closet before going into the bathroom.

you peel your soaked clothes from your body, hissing when you pull the fabric from your wounds.

turning on the water, you get in the shower, letting the water calm you down. you wash off all of the dried blood, dirt and sweat.

after drying off you put on percy's clothes, his scent surrounding you and comforting you.

you head back to the living room to find sally putting two steaming mugs on the table.

'we still got your favorite.' she says, sliding your mug towards you.

'thanks.'

'drink up, and tell me about today if you want. I'll see if we have some medical stuff left in the kitchen.'

you sigh, thinking back to today.

'I didn't even do anything.' you say. 'I was just walking down the road and I got this feeling I was being watched. I thought it wasn't a big deal but hey, demigod instinct, so I took a turn and went into an alley. sure enough, someone followed me.'

'someone or something?' says sally, returning with the first aid kit.

'someone at first. then the mist cleared and it was one of the furies.' you say. 'at that point I was just so done. I wasn't even on a quest so what the hell was she doing there?'

'how did you get away? you've fought a fury before, percy told me.' says sally, scooting her chair closer to you so she can clean the cut on your forehead.

'I have. it's okay if it's one. but then the other two showed up.' you sigh. 'at that point I was really annoyed. I think it was just annoyance that drove me at that point. they were clearly there because they were bored. they thought "hey smells like demigod, oh look it's the hades kid, let's mess with her."

'well, you're here now. you made it out.' says sally, finishing with the cut on your forehead.

'yeah. thanks again.' you say, sipping your tea.

'you don't have to keep thanking me.' says sally. 'you know you're always welcome here, you're practically family. I know you don't like your foster home. now, do you have any other wounds?'

you chuckle. 'only about two dozen little cuts and even more bruises. I've had worse, it's okay.' you say.

'it's never okay.' says sally. 'you and percy are way too young for this.'

you shrug. 'and yet we have to deal with it.' you say, rolling up your sleeves so sally can clean and bandage the cuts on your arms.

the next hour is spent by sally cleaning your wounds and bandaging you up as she tells you stories. you liked hearing her stories. ever since you first met her, it was one of your favorite things about her. she could tell stories in a way that felt like you were actually there, experiencing them.

just as she secures the last bandage in place, you briefly close your eyes, exhaustion getting to you.

'you can get some sleep, I'll tell percy when he gets home.' says sally.

'it's okay, I want to see him before I go to bed.' you say.

'alright, want to watch a movie of something?'

'movie sounds great.'

sally picks a movie while you sit down on the couch. it doesn't take long for you to doze off, even though you fight to stay awake. the fight with the furies was intense, so sally lets you sleep while she waits for percy to home home.

about halfway through the movie, the door to the apartment opens and percy enters.

'hey mom.' he says, taking off his shoes and jacket and dumping his bag near the door.

as he walks into the room, he notices a familiar sword leaning against the back of the couch. he frowns, he didn't know you were coming.

'is y/n here?' he says, walking over to his mom.

she nods, pointing to the couch.

percy looks over the back of the couch to find you fast asleep, wearing his clothes and your body littered in bandages and bruises.

'what happened?' says percy, walking around the couch.

'the three furies.' says sally. 'she didn't feel like going to her foster home.'

percy kneels before the couch, studying your face. he reaches out and traces one of the bruises on your cheek.

you stir awake from the movement, your eyes meeting percy's.

'hi.' you say softly.

'hey. you alright?' he says.

you nod. 'how was the movie?'

percy chuckles. 'it was good. you would have loved it. heard you got in a fight?'

'yeah. those damned furies.' you say. 'luckily your mom patched me up though.'

'you know my bed is more comfortable than the couch, right?' says percy.

you slowly sit up. 'I know. I wanted to stay awake til you got home.'

'and you did a great job at that.' says percy with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

you hit him on the shoulder. 'you would have fallen asleep as well!'

sally watches the exchange with a smile on her face. moments like these make her especially happy you met percy.

'come on.' says percy, standing up and holding out his hand for you to take.

you take it and allow percy to gently pull you to your feet.

'thanks again sally.' you say as percy beings leading you to his bedroom to sleep in an actual bed.

'no need to thank me y/n. it's always good to have you around, even if it's like this.'

you and percy both say goodnight to her before entering percy's room.

'so, did you sugarcoat the story for my mom?' he says as you sit down on this bed.

'not really, I just didn't tell her all of the details.' you say.

percy raises an eyebrow at you. 'details like?'

'like how one of them punched me in the gut and I nearly threw up because of it.' you say.

'ew.' says percy, face scrunching up in disgust.

'you would have thrown up as well.' you say.

'but you managed to fend off all three furies on your own?' he says.

you nod, laying down. 'I think I bruised a rib, though. the rest is all small cuts and bruises. no broken bones this time. they looked like they were really fucking annoyed they could be bested by just one kid.' you say.

percy smiles, walking over to kiss your cheek, careful not to touch the wounds on your face. 'that's my girl.' he says.

'you got anything to do tomorrow?' you say, stifling a yawn.

'nope. we can spend the day here.' he says, walking over to the bed an laying down next to you.

'good.' you say. 'I just need to wash my clothes and clean my sword, and I should probably-' 'y/n.'

you look at percy.

'let's just relax tomorrow, okay? come on, you need sleep.'

you nod, moving closer to him.

as you're laying next to percy, feeling sleep get to you once more, you can't help but to feel a deep sense of gratitude.

sally didn't question why you showed up at her doorstep, but pulled you in her arms and sat with you to bandage your wounds and listen to your story.

percy listened to you as well and provided you familiar comfort you needed, telling you to relax.

you just know if something ever goes wrong, you're always welcome at the jackson household.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max

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