#the stupid little bubble people keep themselves in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goblin-jr · 18 days ago

Text

And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you.

Part 10 of 12

Synopsis: romantic getaways and breaking the peace

Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader

masterlist

—

The soft creak of the ferry’s wooden deck echoed underfoot as it began its slow departure from the Outer Banks, the promise of a day full of freedom waiting on the other side. The boat was barely half full—most of the early passengers were already lost in their own worlds, gazing out at the water or chatting with their companions. For a moment, it felt like Y/N and Rafe had the whole world to themselves, just the two of them, standing on the edge of this small, quiet boat, staring at the horizon that stretched endlessly before them.

The sun had barely risen, casting a golden light across the water that shimmered and danced with the ferry’s wake. The breeze tugged at their hair, the saltwater scent familiar and clean. Y/N stood close to Rafe, her shoulder brushing his as she leaned in, breathing in the cool air. She had never felt so content. The worry that usually followed her around like a shadow—about what people thought of her, about the secrecy, about everything that was complicated—seemed a distant memory as they stood together in this little slice of normalcy.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” she murmured, looking out at the water.

Rafe’s hand found hers, his fingers lacing through hers in a natural gesture that still felt like a small, private triumph, one they hadn’t yet shared with anyone else. He gave her a small, almost secret smile. “I told you it’d be better this way.”

Her lips curved into a teasing grin as she nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “You and your overconfidence. I didn’t expect you to be right about everything.”

“Always am,” Rafe replied with that familiar cocky grin. The sunlight caught his hair, giving him that golden glow she used to only see in her dreams—like a perfect image of a summer day, untouchable and carefree. He looked down at her, and for a moment, his expression softened. “You okay?”

Y/N met his gaze, feeling the warmth of his touch in her hand, the quietness of the moment settling over them. “Yeah, I am,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “I feel... I don’t know. I feel like we’re finally getting it right. For once.”

Rafe squeezed her hand, then pulled her a little closer, as if keeping her near him could somehow make the world outside of their small bubble disappear. There were so many things unsaid between them, things they couldn’t say because of where they were from and who they were to each other, but in this moment, none of that mattered. Not here, on this boat, in the quiet of early morning when no one was looking and the world felt like it had paused just for them.

She let out a small breath, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under her cheek. It was simple—just the two of them, in the open air, surrounded by the vast ocean that stretched out endlessly, like an invitation to explore everything the world had to offer.

They didn’t speak again for a while, content to let the silence carry them. Rafe’s hand stayed firmly in hers, the connection between them feeling more solid with every passing second, like it was building a foundation they could keep returning to, a place where the complications of life could be left behind.

For a moment, Y/N allowed herself to believe that it could stay this way—that they could stay this way. No secrets, no shame, just them. And even though the reality of their situation lingered in the back of her mind, she didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not here.

As the ferry picked up speed, Rafe leaned down to kiss the top of her head, a simple gesture but one that made her heart race. It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed her, but there was something about this kiss—something about the fact that they were in public, surrounded by people, yet hidden in plain sight—that felt new. She tilted her head to look at him, eyes meeting his with an intensity that spoke volumes more than words could say.

“I like this,” she whispered, voice soft but filled with meaning. “I like being with you.”

Rafe didn’t hesitate to answer, his voice low and sincere. “Me too.”

—

The arcade was a burst of neon colors, the rhythmic clinks and beeps of machines filling the air with energy. The walls were plastered with posters of old-school video games, and the smell of popcorn and sugar lingered in the air, adding to the nostalgic charm of the place. It was a throwback to simpler times, a spot where the world outside—full of secrets and expectations—couldn’t follow them.

Y/N and Rafe stepped through the door, and the change in atmosphere was instant. The music grew louder, the flashing lights more intense. She felt a surge of excitement, her usual nerves melting away in the warm glow of arcade lights. This wasn’t a place where they had to hide; they could just be themselves, acting like any normal couple without worrying about anyone recognizing them, without looking over their shoulders.

Rafe grinned, his eyes scanning the room as he nudged her with his elbow. “So, what’s first? Claw machine? Air hockey?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, looking over at the claw machine, already skeptical. She had always thought they were a scam, but something about Rafe’s confidence made her curious. “You really think you can win me something?”

His grin widened, full of that familiar mischievous energy. “Just watch. I’ve got this.”

He walked over to the machine, slipping a coin in with ease and grabbing the controls. Y/N leaned against the side, crossing her arms, watching him as he manipulated the claw with surprising focus. “You sure about this?” she teased, her voice a little playful but mostly skeptical.

Rafe, however, was utterly serious as he maneuvered the claw over the prize—a plush unicorn with a glittery horn that was definitely not her first choice. “This is it,” he said, voice low and dramatic, like he was trying to summon some kind of mystical power. “This is the moment I show you how it's done.”

He pressed the button to lower the claw, his face filled with absolute focus. Y/N crossed her arms, looking skeptical. “Uh, sure. Just don’t embarrass yourself.”

But as Rafe’s hand tightened on the joystick, the claw moved in the wrong direction, then jerked to a stop, then spun around in a circle like it was on its own personal dance floor. He furrowed his brow, eyes locked on the claw, utterly convinced it would redeem itself.

“Alright, no big deal,” he muttered to himself, a bit of nervousness creeping into his voice. He adjusted his grip on the joystick, trying again. This time, the claw managed to hover just above the unicorn’s fluffy head. His fingers twitched, ready to press the button.

But instead of grabbing the toy, the claw dropped... and just barely grazed the unicorn’s ear before slipping harmlessly back into its starting position.

Y/N stifled a laugh, her lips twitching as Rafe looked at the claw machine, wide-eyed, like it had just personally betrayed him.

He didn’t look at her, but she could tell he was mentally cursing himself out. “Okay, okay, that was just a warm-up,” he said, voice defensive. “That was nothing. I’m gonna get it this time.”

She didn’t even try to hide her grin as she leaned against the machine, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Yeah, sure, you’ve totally got it. This next round’s yours, I can feel it.”

Rafe shot her a quick glance before focusing all his energy on the claw. He moved it back and forth, his eyes squinting as if he could will the claw to grab the prize. When the claw lowered, it was supposed to grab a plush unicorn sitting smugly in the center, but—

It missed entirely.

The claw wobbled and jerked, like it was trying to do a dance it had never practiced.

Y/N immediately burst out laughing, leaning against the machine to keep herself steady. “Oh my god, this is priceless. You’re a natural, Rafe.”

He grimaced, his face reddening slightly. “I was just warming up,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, clearly trying to salvage his dignity. “One more try.”

With another coin dropped into the slot, Rafe took aim once more. His hands shook slightly with exaggerated seriousness, and Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle.

“This is so embarrassing for you,” she teased, her grin growing wider.

“Shut up,” he said under his breath, moving the joystick. This time, he positioned the claw directly above the unicorn. He gave the button a confident press—

And the claw dropped… only to grab a random, sad-looking stuffed snake wedged in the corner.

“No, no, no!” Rafe said, his voice rising in frustration. The claw hung the snake awkwardly in midair, before it dropped it with a dramatic clunk to the bottom of the machine.

Y/N burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the arcade. “Okay, now I’m just concerned. Are you sure you’ve seen a claw machine before? This is bad.”

Rafe shot her a look, narrowing his eyes as he pushed more coins into the slot. “Shut up, I’ve got this. You just wait.”

After another five agonizing minutes of Rafe failing to even come close to winning, Y/N was nearly crying from laughing so hard. At this point, he was getting visibly frustrated, his face redder with each failed attempt. His concentration was so intense, it was almost adorable—almost.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered under his breath. “It’s like the claw’s rigged. This is totally rigged.”

“Rafe, you’re just really bad at this,” Y/N teased, her voice full of affection and amusement. “I’m honestly starting to think the machine’s gonna make you pay for wasting its time.”

“Okay, one more try,” he said, this time with a hint of defiance. He slapped another coin into the machine with the confidence of a man who’d just spent the last ten minutes proving he had no idea what he was doing.

As he clutched the joystick once again, Y/N leaned in, a grin plastered on her face. “If you don’t win, I’m just gonna tell people I let you win at everything.”

“Not funny,” Rafe muttered, but the humor was there in his eyes. He finally got the claw to lower, and for a moment, it seemed like it was going to be the one—he was right there, the claw hovered just above the unicorn. His fingers twitched over the button.

The claw descended. And then… it grabbed a random, sad-looking plush cactus from the corner of the machine.

Rafe let out a long, defeated sigh. “I can’t win. I just… I can’t.”

Y/N’s laughter was almost uncontrollable now, tears forming in her eyes as she clutched her stomach. “You’re a disaster! I’ve never seen someone so bad at this.”

Rafe, though, was not defeated. He held the cactus up with a dramatic flourish. “Fine. You think this is a joke? I’m taking this cactus. It’s mine now.”

Y/N, still laughing, shook her head. “You’re delusional.”

He shrugged, the cactus dangling from his hand like some weird victory trophy. “It’s a sign of my character—I’m too cool for unicorns.”

But as they walked away from the machine, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sudden rush of warmth in her chest. Rafe’s usual arrogance had given way to something more real, more human. He wasn’t perfect, and he knew it. And that made him even more endearing.

As they stopped near a wall of neon lights, Y/N reached up and gently tugged the cactus from his hand. “You’re so stubborn,” she said, her voice quieter now, a softness in it she hadn’t even realized was there. “But I like it. You know that?”

Rafe’s expression softened, just for a moment. He tilted his head, eyes meeting hers with an unexpected gentleness. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice surprisingly low.

Y/N nodded, her thumb tracing the rough fabric of the cactus’s stitches. “Yeah. You’re kind of perfect just the way you are.”

He stared at her for a second, his usual smug grin gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said, a chuckle in his voice, “but... I think I like it, too.”

Y/N smiled, the laughter still dancing in her chest but now accompanied by something sweeter, something more real. “Maybe next time, try the claw machine again. Just… don’t get your hopes up too high.”

—-

The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting the beach in that perfect golden hour glow that made everything feel like a dream. Rafe and Y/N wandered down toward the quieter stretch of sand, away from the noisy crowds. The cool breeze off the water tangled in their hair, and for the first time in a while, everything felt just right.

“Alright,” Rafe said, kicking off his sneakers and walking closer to the water. “This feels way better than some crowded arcade.”

Y/N nodded, slipping out of her sandals and wiggling her toes into the soft sand. “Way better. We’ve got the whole beach to ourselves.”

They walked in silence for a moment, letting the waves crash softly at their feet. The world around them felt distant, and for once, the pressure of their secret relationship didn’t feel as heavy. It was just them, in this tiny bubble of peace.

“So,” Y/N began, her voice playful again as she nudged Rafe with her elbow, “how’s the cactus doing?”

Rafe glanced down at the plush cactus, which he’d tucked under his arm like it was a real pet. “The cactus is a masterpiece. It’s going to be famous one day. You’ll see.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Is that what you're calling it now? A masterpiece?”

“Well, it’s a symbol of my success,” Rafe said dramatically, holding the cactus up like a trophy. “One day, I’ll sell it for millions. You’ll say, ‘I was there when Rafe Cameron won the cactus.’” He paused, looking down at the plush toy, then back at Y/N. “You’ll be proud.”

Y/N chuckled. “Sure, sure. I’ll be the proudest person in the world when that happens.”

They reached a small cluster of rocks where they could sit and face the ocean. The sound of the waves was soothing, and for a moment, they both sat quietly, just taking in the view. It wasn’t awkward, though; it felt comfortable, easy.

“You know,” Rafe began, after a long pause, “I never thought I’d enjoy a day like this.”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said, a little more thoughtful than usual. “It’s always been about... showing off, I guess. Or doing things for the wrong reasons. I’ve always had to be someone else, or whatever. But today—today was just… us.”

Y/N smiled softly, not sure what to say at first. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Rafe nodded, turning his gaze out over the ocean, the soft orange and pink of the setting sun painting the sky in vibrant streaks. “I think I’ve been spending too much time worrying about what people think. You know, trying to be this guy I’m not. But I don’t need to do that with you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered a little at his words, the way he looked at her so honestly. “You don’t need to pretend with me,” she said softly. “I don’t care about any of that.”

He turned his head to look at her, his expression more open now. “I know. I like that. You’re different. It’s... I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t have to worry about trying to impress you.”

She smiled, nudging him again. “You know, you don’t have to impress me. You already do.”

Rafe’s grin spread again, though this time it wasn’t the usual cocky, self-assured one. It was more genuine, softer. “I’m pretty sure I just impressed you with my cactus, but I’ll take the compliment.”

Y/N laughed. “Alright, alright, I’ll admit it. You’ve got some skills with that thing.” She paused, looking out at the ocean. “You know, I used to come out here a lot when things were tough. It helped me clear my head. It’s kind of nice, just sitting here.”

Rafe watched her for a moment, then gave a small, thoughtful nod. “I get that. I used to come out here, too, just to get away from everything. Sometimes it feels like the only place where I don’t have to be anyone but myself.”

They both sat there for a few more moments, the waves rolling in and out as the sky darkened. The world felt quieter, like time was slowing down just for them.

Rafe finally spoke again, his voice softer, more vulnerable than it had been all day. “Thanks for today. It’s... it’s been a while since I’ve had a day like this. Just being with someone, not worrying about what’s next or what people think.”

Y/N’s smile softened, her heart full as she reached out to touch his arm. “I’m glad. You deserve days like this.”

Rafe met her eyes then, and for a second, everything else faded into the background. “I’m glad it’s with you.”

The air between them felt charged, and without thinking, Y/N reached out to take his hand in hers, the simple touch making her feel grounded in a way she hadn’t expected. Rafe squeezed her hand gently, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. The quiet between them felt just as perfect as everything else about this day.

“Alright,” Rafe said after a beat, breaking the silence but keeping that warmth in his voice. “We’ve had our deep moment. You ready to go find some real food? Because I’m pretty sure this whole ‘weird stuffed animal’ thing isn’t going to keep me full.”

Y/N grinned. “Absolutely. Let’s go get something that isn’t a cactus or a snake, alright?”

“Deal.” Rafe stood up, offering her a hand as he pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go. But next time—I’m picking the food.”

“Deal,” she said, laughing again, as they walked back toward the town, hand in hand.

—

The day was slowly winding down, the golden hue of the setting sun casting long shadows over the streets of town. Y/N and Rafe wandered aimlessly, enjoying the peaceful quiet that came with the evening hours. The bustling crowds had thinned out, leaving the streets calm and serene, the perfect setting for their leisurely stroll.

They passed by shops with colorful windows, the occasional chatter of people filling the air, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Rafe’s hand brushed against hers every now and then, a small but constant reminder of how close they’d become, even if they had to hide it from everyone else.

As they turned a corner, a small jewelry shop caught their attention. The display case outside was filled with delicate necklaces, rings, and bracelets, each piece glinting in the late afternoon light. There was something about the simplicity of the shop, with its vintage charm and understated elegance, that drew them in.

Y/N stopped in front of the window, her fingers lightly pressing against the glass as she studied the glittering bracelets. Some were simple, some were more elaborate, but they all held a kind of quiet beauty. She glanced up at Rafe, who had his hands tucked into his pockets, looking around the small street.

“Think we should go in?” she asked, a playful note in her voice.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, glancing over at the shop. “Are you asking me if I want to look at jewelry?” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

Y/N shrugged, still eyeing the bracelets. “I mean, I think you might find something in there that suits you. Sparkles and all.”

Rafe laughed softly. “Yeah, well... sparkles aren’t exactly my thing. But sure, let’s see what’s in there.”

They entered the shop, the door chimes ringing lightly above them as they stepped inside. The air was filled with the soft scent of wood and polished metal. A gentle hum of calm music played in the background as they wandered among the displays, browsing through the array of jewels, none of which seemed to stand out as the piece.

After a few moments, Y/N picked up a bracelet with small, delicate charms that jingled lightly when touched. She held it up in front of Rafe, raising an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Rafe leaned over, taking a look. “It’s... shiny,” he said, not exactly convinced. “Not really my style.”

Y/N smiled, placing it back on the counter. “Yeah, I thought so too. But it’s cute.”

They wandered for a few more minutes, picking up pieces, admiring them, but neither of them felt compelled to buy anything. The items were beautiful, sure, but the whole experience felt oddly distant—like they were pretending to be someone they weren’t.

Finally, Y/N turned to Rafe with a shrug. “I don’t think either of us is really in the mood to buy anything, huh?”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes lighting up as he gave her a playful nudge. “Nope. I don’t think I could pull off any of these anyway.”

“Not even the sparkly ones?” she teased, a grin tugging at her lips.

“Especially not the sparkly ones,” he said with mock seriousness. “But hey, it was fun just looking.”

They both laughed, and after a few more moments of lighthearted banter, they left the shop, hands still brushing occasionally as they walked back down the street, continuing their slow stroll toward the ferry.

As they approached the dock, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with soft shades of orange and pink. They boarded the ferry in silence, finding a quiet spot at the railing, where the cool breeze was starting to pick up. The water shimmered in the fading light, and the soft hum of the boat’s engine was a comforting backdrop to the peaceful moment.

Rafe leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning the water as they pulled away from the shore. Y/N stood beside him, looking out at the horizon, a quiet smile on her face as the day slipped away. But even with the serenity of the moment, there was a small pang in her chest, a bittersweet feeling that the day was ending so soon.

As they stood there, the sound of the ferry’s engine humming softly in the background, Y/N glanced at Rafe out of the corner of her eye. She’d been thinking about it all day—the small thought that had lingered since they’d walked through that jewelry shop. Without saying anything, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small wrapped box. She turned to Rafe, holding it out to him with a quiet smile.

“Hey, I know we didn’t buy anything earlier, but...” she trailed off, handing him the box. “I got you something.”

Rafe blinked, clearly surprised. “You did?”

Y/N nodded, her smile widening. “I couldn’t resist. You might not love sparkles, but I thought this would look good on you.”

Rafe took the box, carefully unwrapping it with a mix of curiosity and amusement. When he opened it, he found a sleek, glittery bracelet, the kind that wasn’t too flashy, but had just enough shine to catch the light. He looked up at her, his eyes softening.

“You got me a bracelet?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Y/N laughed, shrugging. “It’s not a sparkly one, I promise. Just... something simple. I thought it’d suit you.”

Rafe’s lips curled into a smile. “It’s perfect, actually.” He reached out, taking her hand and slipping the bracelet onto his wrist. “I love it.”

Before she could say anything more, Rafe surprised her by reaching into his own jacket pocket and pulling out a small velvet bag. “I guess I owe you one now,” he said, his grin widening.

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she took the bag from him. “You didn’t have to—”

“I know, but I wanted to,” he said, his voice softening a little. “Open it.”

Y/N carefully untied the string, revealing a delicate necklace with a tiny, intricate pendant. It was a crescent moon, silver with a small diamond at its center, catching the last of the sunlight. Her breath caught in her throat. It was beautiful—simple, but breathtaking.

“Rafe,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “It’s... it’s perfect.”

“I thought you’d like it,” he said quietly, watching her reaction. “Something to remember today by.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’ll never forget it. Thank you.”

They stood there for a moment, both wearing gifts from the other, feeling the quiet, shared happiness of the day slowly settling in. But as the ferry glided through the water, a quiet sadness started to creep in, an awareness that the day was coming to an end.

“You know,” Y/N said, her voice low, “this has been... one of the best days I’ve had in a while.”

Rafe nodded, his expression soft. “Yeah. Me too.”

The sound of the waves crashing against the side of the ferry filled the silence between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They didn’t need to say anything else. The day had been perfect in its simplicity, just the two of them, stealing moments of normalcy in a world that often didn’t allow for it.

As the ferry neared the shore, they both felt the weight of the inevitable separation. They’d go back to stealing glances and secret rendezvous—at least for a little while. But for now, all they had was the evening, the ferry ride, and the gifts they’d given each other, which were more than just jewelry. They were reminders of a day they’d never forget.

—---

A few days later, the sun hung low over the beach, casting a warm, lazy glow as it started its descent. The Pogues were settled around a makeshift bonfire on the sand, the air thick with the scent of smoke and saltwater. The group had sprawled out in the usual way—Pope meticulously stacking sticks for later, JJ tossing pebbles at driftwood targets, and Kie stretched out on a blanket, flicking sand absently as she chatted with Y/N.

It was one of those rare, easy days when the crew could just unwind, the kind of day they all secretly loved. JJ had spent the past few minutes trying to balance a stick on his nose, to no success, though his persistence was making everyone laugh. When the stick inevitably fell to the sand, he groaned dramatically. “This is why I’ll never be a circus performer,” he announced, to a chorus of exaggerated gasps.

“I know. Total missed calling,” Y/N replied, grinning as she tossed a few pebbles toward him. Kie snorted, tossing one herself, but missed and hit Pope, who looked over with mock offense.

“Can we at least hit JJ?” Pope said, rolling his eyes before grabbing a handful of sand, aiming for JJ’s shoes instead.

Kie, lying on her side with her head resting on her arm, caught sight of the necklace Y/N was wearing. It caught the light, sparkling just enough to make Kie raise an eyebrow. “Hey, that’s new. Where’d you get that?”

Y/N instinctively touched it, a small, knowing smile creeping onto her face. She shrugged, trying to keep her response light. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

Kie’s eyes narrowed, not entirely convinced. “Really? It looks kinda... fancy for just something you picked up.”

Y/N laughed it off, brushing it aside. “What can I say? I have expensive taste.” She grinned to soften the response, hoping Kie would drop it.

Kie eyed her, but didn’t press. “Uh-huh,” she said, turning back to the group as JJ started running after Pope, both of them laughing.

Y/N’s fingers brushed the necklace again, feeling the quiet connection behind it. It was a secret, one she wasn’t ready to share, but in this moment, that was enough.

The easy laughter echoed over the water, filling the space with a calm none of them thought to question. It was the kind of afternoon that always made them feel like everything else could wait until tomorrow.

But that calm didn’t last.

A sharp ping broke through their laughter. John B had pulled his phone from his pocket and quickly checked the screen. At first, it seemed like nothing; he barely glanced at it before his thumb hovered over the side button to lock the screen again. But Y/N, perched next to him, didn’t miss the slight smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed.

JJ, who was surprisingly perceptive when it came to sniffing out potential teasing material, caught the expression too and smirked, leaning in. “Yo, JB, who’s got you grinning like that?”

John B stiffened slightly, shoving the phone back in his pocket. “No one, just a…friend.”

Kie raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “A ‘friend’? John B, I think you forget all of your friends are sitting right here.”

Pope snorted, nudging JJ. “Yeah, and I’ve never seen you smile like that at one of my texts, man.”

Y/N felt the tension creep up, hoping they’d let it go, but JJ was already zeroed in, leaning forward with his usual mischievous glint. He held out a hand. “Alright, let’s see this ‘friend’ then.”

John B held up his hands defensively, scoffing. “Back off, alright? It’s nothing, just a text.”

JJ wasn’t one to back down easily. With a grin, he lunged over and snatched the phone out of John B’s hand before anyone could blink, ducking back with a triumphant laugh. John B groaned, already reaching out to grab it back, but JJ sidestepped, eyes locked on the screen.

The smile faded from JJ’s face as he read, replaced by an exaggerated, delighted grin. He held up the phone for everyone to see, pointing at the screen with a loud laugh. “‘Val’ says she misses you, babe!”

“Val?” Kie echoed, her brows knitting in confusion. “Who the hell is ‘Val’?”

Pope squinted, glancing over JJ’s shoulder to read the screen. “Dude, you’re getting ‘babe’ texts from ‘Val’ now?”

“Come on, guys,” John B muttered, snatching the phone again, but JJ held it out of reach, tilting his head curiously.

Y/N quickly tried to step in. “Guys, relax. It’s probably nothing, just some weird joke between friends.”

Kie raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “Yeah, right. ‘Val’ says babe like it’s no big deal?”

Y/N, trying to keep things light, leaned over to JJ with a laugh. “Maybe it’s a nickname for someone he’s trying to impress. Like, uh, ‘Valencia,’ or some other exotic name. Very mysterious.”

JJ blinked at her. “Yeah, sure. And I’m definitely not going to ask why ‘Val’ says ‘babe’ in all their texts.”

John B was looking at Y/N, his expression torn. He gave her a pleading look, and for a second, she knew he was ready to just admit everything. She met his gaze, giving a slight, emphatic shake of her head, silently telling him: Don’t you dare tell them.

For a moment, he hesitated, torn between protecting the secret and wanting to rip off the band-aid. But then Pope’s eyes went wide as he finally connected the dots.

“Wait… ‘Val’?” Pope said slowly, his eyes narrowing as the realization began to settle in. He glanced up at John B, his voice tinged with disbelief. “That’s not just a friend, is it?”

John B hesitated, his fingers absently running over the edge of his phone as he met Pope’s gaze. “No... I’m... seeing someone.” His voice was quiet, as if he were testing the waters, waiting for the storm to hit.

Y/N's stomach twisted. She couldn’t look away from John B in that moment, the air between them thick with something unspoken. She could feel the tension in her chest as she opened her mouth, her voice barely above a whisper. “John B, please...” Her eyes begged him to stop, to not say any more, to not let this reveal itself like this.

But he didn’t look at her. He just met her gaze for a split second before turning back to the group. There was something resolute in his eyes, an unspoken promise: It’s going to be okay.

He took a deep breath and finally let it slip out. “It’s Sarah Cameron.”

Kie’s face flushed with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You’re dating her?” she practically spat, rising to her feet in shock. “After everything she and her family have done to us?”

John B looked defensive, trying to keep his cool. “It’s not like that, Kie. It’s just—”

But Kie was already shaking her head, not having it. “It’s exactly like that, John B! After all the crap her family’s put us through, and now you’re just gonna ignore it because you like her?”

“I don’t care about her family, Kie,” John B snapped, clearly frustrated. “I care about her. I’m not gonna let their problems be mine.”

Y/N, feeling the tension rise, quickly stepped in, her voice trying to keep things light. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Kie. John B’s dating who he wants to date.”

JJ blinked, his frustration still simmering. “Look, I’m not thrilled about the whole ‘Kook’ thing, but as far as Kooks go, Sarah’s not that bad. It could’ve been worse... I mean, it could’ve been someone like Ruthie or Rafe.”

Y/N’s stomach twisted at the mention of Rafe. Sure, JJ could brush off Sarah, but Rafe? That was a whole different level—one that would never be as easy to accept. She could already feel the weight of the confrontation coming, and it made her sick to her core.

But Kie was seething now, her eyes burning. “Are you serious, JJ? She’s been tearing us down for years, and you’re just gonna excuse that because John B’s having some little romance? She’s part of the problem. Her family’s the problem. And you think dating her is just fine?”

John B held his ground, though his voice was quieter now, more strained. “I don’t care what her family’s done. It’s not about them, Kie. It’s just about Sarah.”

Kie looked between John B and Y/N, her voice rising in anger. “So, what, you’re just gonna ignore all the times she’s acted like we don’t exist? Like we’re just some lower class that’s not worth her time?”

Y/N, feeling the tension reaching its peak, cut her off, her voice sharp but calm. “Look, I don’t see what the big deal is, alright? John B is his own person. He can date whoever he wants.”

That just made Kie’s anger explode even further. “You don’t see the big deal? This isn’t just about who John B is dating, Y/N. This is about everything she represents! She’s a Kook! And now you’re all just fine with that?”

JJ looked back and forth between Kie and the others, his voice quieter now as he tried to defuse the situation. “Whoa, okay, okay, let’s just all chill. Kie, we get it. But maybe yelling about it isn’t gonna make it better. It’s John B’s choice. We can’t really do anything about it.”

But Kie wasn’t having it. “You think I’m just supposed to pretend it’s okay? After everything?”

The words hit hard, and the air grew thick with tension. Kie stormed off, her steps quick and angry as she muttered under her breath. Pope hesitated, glancing at John B and Y/N before following Kie, clearly torn.

JJ, shaking his head, threw his hands up. “Man, what a mess.” He paused, glancing at John B and Y/N. “You good?”

John B let out a heavy sigh, dropping onto a rock. “Yeah… just not what I expected.”

Y/N sat down beside him, her expression softening. “You did what you had to do.”

The sun dipped lower, and the day that had begun so relaxed and carefree felt a little heavier now, the silence between them thick as the fallout from Kie’s anger lingered in the air.

—-

A/n: i wrote chapter 11 before i finished this so sorry if it seems off 😭😭😭

Anyways, val and vlad made an appearance! Is it controversial if i say they are the best couple in the show

—

Next time: the midsummer ball

–

Taglist: @hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin , @maybankslover , @ren-ni, @wh0reforbucknasty , @enjoymyloves , @bilssturns , @dragonslight , @willowpains , @sidney-86 , @urbrunettebombshell, @fluffybunnyu

#obx4 #obx #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj x reader

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charmercharm3r · 1 year ago

Note

Hihi! I really like your writings. 💕

I would like to make a request. One for ot8.

I would like to know the boys' reaction when you moan their name in your sleep. Like, you're best friends with so and so member and your sleeping over and you're having a wet dream and you moan their name out loud. What would their reaction be? What would they do? Would they say something to you or keep it to themselves? Would they make a move?

If you do this request, thank you so much! 💕

And if not, no worries and thank you nonetheless. 💕

i kept this in the vault for TOO LONG im sorry

Masterlist

☆ﾟ

chan is a slut for you. S. L. U. T. even if you don’t know it. everyone knows this man is a night owl, so to get in your channie-time, you stay up with him a couple nights a week. one of those days happens to be in his bedroom. while he’s on a roll with this melody that’s stuck in his head, he’s humming into the microphone and has his big ass headphones on, so he doesn’t see you start to drift off. but when he finally returns to the outside world, he hears you mumbling in your sleep. you look so cute wrapped up in his bed, blanket tucked under your chin and taking up the entire single pillow he has. then you do it again, more intelligible this time. is that… his name?? he doesn’t do anything to stop you or wake you up. hard as a fucking rock, excuses himself to take a cold shower and get rid of the filthy thoughts swimming in his head. little does he realize that his mic is still recording. only later the next day when he’s going over the project does he catch the small moans in the background. those get put in an extra secret, extra secure folder on his phone. just for him, his hand, and the late, late night.

minho is the most straight forward out of all of them. he warned you, he didn’t want you to fall asleep in the first place because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep fighting off the stupid warm bubbling in his belly cus you’re so damn cute. you always thought he was being his normal teasing self whenever he’d tell you, “stop falling asleep around me, i’ll fall in love with you, i swear.” no way did he have a crush on you, too. refusing to admit it, you fall asleep in his bed one night anyways. doesn’t get hard cus he’s in shock and almost bursts into laughter at you moaning his name in your sleep. not because he thinks you’re funny, but because he can’t believe you’re actually doing it. of your own free will— well, as much free will as you have when you’re unconscious. wakes you up immediately by tapping the pillow you lay on. his face is right in front of yours with the most serious look on his face. you don’t remember the dream, but still, he won’t let you sleep until you admit what you did >:(

changbin would wake you up immediately. what the fuck do you mean, you moan his name in your sleep?! this whole time?! he’s not gentle about it, his cute aggression a lot stronger now that he knows you feel the same. it was the first time you’d fallen asleep in front of him, and this happens?! he would’ve made you stay over more often if it would’ve led to this. cus he kisses you as soon as you confess that yes, you’re incredibly into him and care for him more than a friend. things get steamy, but you’re still half asleep! it is the a.m., after all. don’t worry, he doesn’t wanna move too fast. you’re the needy one (his words), so he’ll do all the work for now. some nice, desperately in love head for the first of many mind numbing orgasms, it practically rocks you back to sleep. this time, with him cuddled up beside you.

hyunjin knew it from the beginning. he’s intuitive when it comes to other people’s feelings and emotions, is also very emotionally mature. it helps that he knows you so well. falling asleep in his bed, you can’t help the wet dreams when he’s a dream personified. light touches of his fingertips over the outline of your body from your head to your ankles, not wanting to disturb you but also not being subtle. you mumbling his name in your sleep solidifies that you want him just as bad, he can’t pass up the opportunity! brushing your hair with his fingers softly, that wakes you up but only enough to know that it’s him touching you. he’d come in close to press a kiss to your cheek and you think that it’s just a sweet gesture, until he comes in closer and closer to your lips. oops, now you’re making out— and you don’t wanna stop. he’ll stick his hand down your sleep shorts, let you use him however you’d like, but that’s as far as he’ll go until you’re more of a sound mind. would love if he could kiss you until he fell asleep, too.

jisung is another one where you think he’s kidding every time he tells you he’s in love with you. he says it to everyone! he pretends to kiss all of his friends! except he only started doing it to mask how much he liked you. a movie night with him turned into a slumber party, you on the couch and him on the floor in front of you. when you fall asleep on your belly, one hand hanging off the edge and it whacks him in the face, then he hears the slightly incoherent murmurs of you saying his name. ohhh he’s hit the jackpot now, and bricked up like no fucking other. would kiss the inside of your palm to softly wake you up, except you’re deep in this dream and need a bit more than that to come back to reality. slips a hand under the back of your shirt to feel your warm skin and he almost melts cus you say his name louder, consciously. at least, semi. would— and will— rut against the side of the couch when you lead his hand down the back of your shorts to feel how much you want him. rips the fucking fabric off you immediately and goes to town just like that. does not care whatsoever if it’s an unconventional position for a first intimate moment together, he wants you. and later intends to make it clear that he will not try to kiss his friends anymore if you say you’ll date him.

felix is so timid when it comes to romantic relationships, so his mouth is like a vault locked and sealed away when he hears you moan his name in your sleep. however, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t pitch a tent in his pants, cus holy hell is he fucking hard. he isn’t shy when it comes to anything sexual, though. you two are close! so close that he feels comfortable enough to roll onto his back and pull his dick out of his underwear and dry fist himself to the sounds of your pretty whimpers for him. does he feel guilty? a little. would he do it again? absolutely. cums hard when your hips start to twitch slightly as though you’re reaching your own peak within the dream. will he be confessing after this? maybe, maybe not. who knows if he can even look you in the eyes again.

seungmin would also wake you up as soon as you say his name even just once. he’s not sweet about it, but he doesn’t make you feel like shit. kinda teases you and goads you into annoyedly confessing that yes, you have a massive fucking crush on him and yes, you were having a wonderful wet dream until he decided to ruin it. raises his eyebrows and smirks, “a wet dream about me,” as if you didn’t already fucking know that. asshole. kisses you to make you stay and forgive him for waking you up, but won’t outwardly admit he likes you back. intends on showing you that the feelings are reciprocated by making you cum on his fingers and in his mouth, “isn’t the real thing better? should’ve been having wet dreams about me this whole time.” “i have been.” “good to know. now, think you can handle more? one for each dream you’re gonna tell me about. who knows? maybe i’ll be nice enough to make it come true.”

jeongin is more flustered than you are when he accidentally falls off the bed and wakes you during his attempt at escaping. he’s only embarrassed because he’s hard as fuck and should not be thinking about his best friend like that— even if you’re thinking the same about him. it’s wrong! it’s immoral! and that’s why it turns him on so much. when you jolt awake to see him on the floor clutching his dick, he gets red in the face and ultimately admits that he was listening to you whimper his name in your sleep. it’s you who makes the first move and invites him back to bed, making him lay beside you while reassuring him that it’s okay to feel this way. he’s not doing anything wrong when you feel exactly the same. uh oh, you’re leaning in, does he kiss you? he wants to so bad. you’re so warm and smell so good. shivers covers his body when you trail your hand towards his waistband and simultaneously guide one of his towards your aching center. who would’ve thought a routine sleep over would’ve ended in the two of you hand fucking each other until you were kissed breathless and eventually fell back asleep in one another’s arms? he definitely didn’t.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #stray kids ot8 #skz ot8 #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz ff #skz imagine #skz headcannon #stray kids headcannons #stray kids imagines #skz headcanons #stray kids head cannons

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winstonsns · 6 months ago

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Could you do the gangs types? 🙏

(Love your writing btw!!)

the gang and their types (request)

authors note: thank youu, i’m happy you like my writing! sorry it’s short, ill try and make the next request longer 💗

includes ponyboy, johnny, soda, darry, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 1.1k

warnings: cussing

PONYBOY CURTIS

pony likes someone who can both yap and listen, he enjoys hearing you talk about things and how you get excited and smile, but he also loves talking to you and ranting, he appreciates someone who can listen to when he gets really excited over small things or in general

one of the first things he looks for in a person is their intelligence, if one is smarter than the other then he wouldn’t want to feel stupid or you to feel bad that you’re not as smart as him

he prefers studying together if the both of you are at the same level and classes in school

that way the two of you can have in depth conversations that he can’t have with others because they don’t know as much as he does

JOHNNY CADE

he always felt like he needed emotional support so if you can provide that for him, he’s all over you

along with someone who shows affection in public and isn’t ashamed, whether it’s complimenting him, hugging him or giving him gifts

johnny extremely values people who are loyal to him, someone who won’t leave at the first sense of danger or sadness, instead tries to work out the problem and continue communicating

he gets nervous when confrontation is involved, but communicating lets him know you care and love him, because if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t talk to him about whatever’s bothering you

johnny loves someone who is respectful of boundaries, he never really knew how to make his own because he never had them in the first place, his parents didn’t care enough to restrict him from doing anything

so if you notice he’s uncomfortable with something you’re or someone else is doing, you’ll stop or tell them to stop and he’ll love you even more

SODAPOP CURTIS

soda likes people who are good listeners and pick up on little details, like an observer

he just wants people to realize that he has problems too and wants to be listened to, someone who will check up on him randomly or if he looks sad

if you’re a naturally encouraging and grateful person, basically a bubbly happy person, then you have a huge chance that he’ll like you

he tries to be around people who make life a lot easier and happier, someone who gives him something to look forward to the next day and a reason to keep living

soda isn’t that picky about his type and values personality way more than looks

he loves someone who is upbeat, he doesn’t care if someone gets annoyed because he loves being around you

DARRY CURTIS

darry loves someone who is very patient, he can get very occupied sometimes because of work and basically raising his brothers, so it’s very time consuming and he’d love it if his partner is patient

also if you help him out with pony and soda, like buying groceries or making them food or simply taking them places, although he’ll feel bad that he’s not doing the work, he’ll appreciate whatever you do for him or his siblings

he likes it if you cherish the time you and him have together because it’s so little, so quality time is very important to him

whenever the two of you have time, the both of you will try to work something out that the both of you like, so if you’re good at compromising then he likes that

that way the two of you can do what you want but together

DALLAS WINSTON

he really appreciates someone who can stand up for themselves, basically an assertive person who isn’t afraid to express what they want and stuff

dally makes a lot of mistakes so he wants someone who is forgiving, he can get frustrated though if you don’t forgive him immediately

but he hates apologizing first and sees it as a weakness, he learns his lesson after you don’t talk to him for a few days, he struggles to say sorry but he gets it across

if you’re brutally honest like him, he will fucking love you, the two of you might disagree on things but you hardly ever lie to each other

if you say something like, “that was a bit rude, dal, not his fault that you didn’t like the milkshake.” so he’ll sigh and roll his eyes, apologizing to you and saying he’ll try not to do it again

he obviously does it again but tries not to do that type of stuff around you, he doesn’t want you to be upset at him or with yourself for not doing anything

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

keith loves someone who has the same sense of humor as him, if he tells a joke or insults someone and you come up with something funnier or more insulting, he’s head over heels

another thing he really loves is someone who’s good with kids, like they get along and can take care of kids

especially if the kids go out of their way to see you and they can tell you have a good heart, he loves that

same goes with animals, like they have a sense of intuition whether or not some is a safe person to be around, so if animals go to you then they feel safe

STEVE RANDLE

he likes someone who is respectful of others, specifically boundaries and is very careful not to cross them

also someone who sees the good and bad side of everything, if you try to see others perspectives then he’ll really appreciate it

that way he knows you’re caring of not only yourself and your friends, but people you don’t know either

he loves it if someone is protective of him but not to the point where he can’t do anything on his own, he can handle himself very well and you both know that, but if you’re protective then he knows you’d do a lot to keep him safe

authors note: pretty sure i have three full days left of school. i’m excited to write more yayyy!! sorry if you requested something and i haven’t answered it yet, i answer in order of who requested first. sorry this took a while!!

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awkward-walking-potato · 3 months ago

Note

saw you wanted some wade requests so.... how about wade x a scatterbrained (probably has adhd) reader who always calls themselves stupid whenever they forget what they are doing \ walk into a room and forget what they were supposed to do?

Forget-Me-Nots

You stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring blankly at the open refrigerator. The cool air wafted over your face as you tried to remember why you had walked in here in the first place. You were sure it was important—maybe something for dinner? Or a snack? You couldn’t recall, and the longer you stood there, the more frustrated you became.

With a sigh, you closed the fridge door and leaned against the counter, muttering to yourself. “Ugh, I’m so stupid. Why can’t I remember anything?”

“Did someone say ‘stupid’? I’m pretty sure that’s a code word for needing more Deadpool in your life,” came a voice from the doorway. Wade strolled into the kitchen, a lopsided grin on his face as he made his way over to you. “What’s going on, babe?”

You glanced up at him, feeling a bit sheepish. “I came in here for something, but I completely forgot what it was. I feel so dumb. This happens all the time.”

Wade’s grin softened into something more tender as he reached out to ruffle your hair playfully. “First of all, you’re not dumb. Not even close. You’re just running on a different frequency than most people—one that happens to be way more interesting, might I add.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words, even though the frustration still lingered. “I don’t know, Wade. It just feels like my brain’s always all over the place. Like I can’t focus on one thing for too long, and I keep forgetting stuff.”

Wade’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to you. “Well, that’s where I come in, babe. Ta-da!”

You looked down to see a small, brightly colored sticky note in your hand. On it, in Wade’s messy handwriting, were the words: You came in here for the snacks, didn’t you?

You blinked in surprise, and then a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Because I know you, that’s how,” Wade said, looking way too pleased with himself. “And also because I’m a genius. But mostly the first thing. I figured you might get sidetracked, so I wrote you a little reminder earlier. Just in case.”

Your heart melted at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture, and you looked up at him with a mixture of affection and gratitude. “Wade, that’s so sweet of you. And, yeah, I was definitely thinking about snacks.”

Wade’s grin widened. “Called it! Now, let’s raid the pantry and find something good. I think we’ve got some chocolate stashed away somewhere.”

As the two of you searched through the cabinets, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of appreciation for Wade’s efforts. He didn’t just see your scatterbrained moments as a quirk to be tolerated—he saw them as an opportunity to show how much he cared about you. It was one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

Later that evening, as you were getting ready for bed, you found another sticky note taped to your bathroom mirror. This one read: Brush your teeth, beautiful. And don’t forget to floss—I know you hate it, but your smile’s worth it.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you did exactly what the note suggested. Wade had a knack for knowing exactly what you needed, even before you realized it yourself.

Climbing into bed, you found yet another note tucked under your pillow: You’re not stupid. You’re amazing, and I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have you. Now, get some sleep—dream of me, will ya?

You clutched the note to your chest, feeling your eyes well up with tears, though they were the happy kind. Wade always knew how to lift your spirits, to remind you of your worth, even when you were feeling down on yourself.

When Wade finally joined you in bed, you turned to him and snuggled close, wrapping your arms around him as you whispered, “Thank you, Wade. For everything.”

He kissed the top of your head, his arms encircling you protectively. “Anything for you, babe. You’re my whole world, scattered brain and all. And don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more notes where those came from.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you drifted off to sleep. Wade might have been unpredictable and wild, but when it came to you, he was steady, thoughtful, and endlessly loving.

The next morning, you woke up to find a sticky note on your nightstand: Good morning, sunshine! Remember to take your meds and have breakfast. I made pancakes—don’t let them get cold!

You grinned, feeling a surge of affection for your wonderfully chaotic boyfriend. With Wade by your side, you knew you could face anything—even the most scatterbrained of days.

#marvel imagine #x men imagine #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool oneshot #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson

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hughiecampbelle · 2 months ago

Text

Gen V Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: Could I request the gen v reacting to you wearing something tight/ skimpy? I love how you did this with the boys ty💖 - anon

A/N: I hope you like it my love!!! My fave Luke was so sweet and I just know Jordan would get this look in their eyes omg!!! Also Emma would be so funny!!!! Feedback is always appreciated!! 💕

Luke would melt. You wear baggier clothes, cool and unique, but pretty modest. He's immediately speechless. It's your first time sneaking off campus, breaking curfew, and going clubbing. You borrowed something from your roommate, thankful they had the appropriate clothes for this sort of outing. When you walked towards his car you felt silly, stupid even, pulling at the hemlines of your outfit. Luke wears that goofy smile you recognize, the one that says he's all bubbly, no thoughts. He won't say anything outright besides you look great, but once you're dancing he can't keep his hands off of you. He loves what he sees and, selfishly, wishes to see more. To Andre and Jordan though, he goes on and on about how he wants to devour you, how starstruck he is, how fantastic you look.

Jordan's words come out compulsively. They see you at one of the many galas and just can't help themselves. Cate helped you get ready, realizing you'd never been to one of these things. They hand you a drink, immediately looking you up and down. They have no shame at this moment. Their mouth moves before they realize it. You hadn't realized they'd take this much of a notice over what you were wearing. You and Jordan even had a similar style: baggy, oversized, street style. They loved your outfits and said so a few times. Tonight, you were wearing something tight, skimpy, something that totally wasn't you. They liked it, though. They made sure you knew you have a good body and should show it off more often, that if they were you they'd walk around naked. Why waste the money on clothes? You just roll your eyes, used to the unabashed way Jordan speaks. They're upfront about everything, including this.

Andre can't keep his hands off you. He's instantly jealous of anyone who might even think about looking in your direction. You got mock-ups of your suit for after you graduate and you wanted to show everyone. Brink was the one to share it with you, to tell you that The Seven was interested in you, a sophomore. It was unheard of. There was still some necessary tweaking, mostly colors and fabric, but you loved it regardless. It was, however, a little more form fitting than you were used to. Or a lot. Your clothes were fashionably oversized. That's what you liked. Superheroes couldn't go around wearing baggy jeans and sweatshirts. He's mesmerized when he sees you, his hands all over you. While you talk about your meeting with Brink, he kisses you, leading you to the bed. If you'd known he was going to act like this, you would have made his visit the last. You still had Luke and Cate to show.

Cate is speechless. All smiles. You agreed to come out with her friends, to party with them at one of the off-campus frats. When you showed up, you were basically wearing nothing. You thought that's what you were supposed to wear, like it was the uniform of frats. Suddenly everyone had their eyes on you. People kept coming up to you, wanting to get you a drink, talk to you, get your attention. In the years you'd been at God U you'd never had this sort of reaction. Cate later explains, though she loves your usual fashion, it leaves everything to the imagination. This, however, shows off what they'd been wanting. She thinks you look amazing. Truly, you should do this more often. Used to the attention, Cate makes sure it's just the two of you. She gets you all to herself. She's not as handsy as Andre would be, but she definitely looks at you like she's hungry and you're forbidden fruit.

Marie stumbles her way through a compliment, backtracking to explain she doesn't want to sexualize you, before apologizing for the entire encounter. You and Marie agreed to go out clubbing with Luke and his friends as long as the other came along. While Emma dressed Marie, you found something tight and skimpy at the bottom of your suitcases. She's only ever seen you in baggy clothes so when you met up at the staircase in the freshman dorm, she was flabbergasted. On the walk to the cars she tries to compliment you, your body, heat rushing to her face, before she apologizes, unsure of what to say, how to say it. She absolutely adores what she sees (how could she not?), but she doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or scare you back into your oversized sweatshirts. You laugh, thanking her, even doing a playful spin. You admit you're not used to it, showing so much off, but it isn't a bad feeling. Just new.

Emma states it outright: oh my god you're hot! She says it like she's surprised. And she is. If she had known you were hiding that kind of body underneath sweatshirts and baggy pants, she would have insisted you throw on the smallest outfit you could find. She laughs, saying if she looked like you, she'd wear nothing. Emma is pretty up front about her feelings and, though you love her, she has little social awareness. The two of you are sitting in your theater class while she says this. It was your group's day to show off your skit and the only matching outfits you had were tight, black, and skimpy. She was so distracted by the curves and outlines of your body, she didn't notice you'd grown uncomfortable, self-conscious. She later apologizes, realizing just how loud she was and how much attention she was calling to you. She stands by her statement though, you should definitely, at least once, walk through the campus naked.

Sam has no idea what to do or say. You and him had both been locked away. Since escaping, you've been under Emma's care. She lent you both clothes. While Sam got her oversized sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, you were given a smaller outfit. Tight. It's all she'd given you, throwing clothes at the two of you before she went to class. Do I look stupid? You ask, coming out and showing him. It's been years since you've worn clothes that weren't sweatshirts and sweatpants. It wasn't as warm, but you didn't entirely hate it. Sam just shrugs, taking you in. He hadn't had a crush since he was a kid, back in elementary school, but looking at you now, in this outfit, he could feel butterflies in his stomach. He gets this crooked smile, kinda goofy looking, that tells you he likes what he sees. He's shy in your presence, too, like now you're all he can think about it. When you ask if you should change, his no is immediate.

#requested #preference #luke riordan #golden boy #jordan li #marie moreau #cate dunlap #luke riordan x reader #jordan li x reader #marie moreau x reader #emma meyer #emma meyer x reader #sam riordan #sam riordan x reader #andre anderson #andre anderson x reader #gen v #gen v x reader

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ladyazurith · 5 months ago

Note

You mentioned in one post that you think one problem with the game is that it twists itself into pretzels to fit the various different narratives, even when it doesn't make sense for the characters. Can you talk more about that? (Because I totally agree.)

Very much so! It's really bothersome. The first thing is in the individual chapters they tend to act like the students don't know each other well outside their own dorms, almost like they're practical strangers who have never interacted before. When everything else points to the opposite. Take Chapter 5 for example. They try to act like Ace and Deuce have no idea who Epel is, yet in Ace's CR story, he clearly meets Epel during their sorting. Never mind how they behave during events. And in chapter 2 when Cater is with Yuu and the others scoping out possible targets, it's presented like he doesn't know most of them well, when he clearly knows *everyone*.

Then from there, it's how the characters act in their individual chapters. Chapter 1 is mostly okay in this regard. Events with Riddle happen quickly enough that him having a major change of heart and acting "normal" in material from then on isn't too jarring.

But moving on from there it's a trainwreck. The chapter's overblot victims/ antagonists can get a little bit of a pass, but even then it stretches things.

Like Ruggie for instance, he is very shrewd and isn't above taking advantage of a situation. But he's not evil, he very clearly cares a lot about his home, his grandmother, and the other kids who live in the area with him. The idea that the character we see in every other situation would cause serious harm to someone else over a game is kind of ludicrous. He could have very easily risked expulsion if things had gone too far, and then he wouldn't be in a position to help *anyone*. Leona is even kind of iffy to me. While Leona tends to go out of his way to appear uncaring/unmotivated/lazy, he's actually an incredibly good dorm leader who cares about his students. Most of his real issues are internal, and harming innocent people who aren't even part of his beef with Malleus just seems out of character to me. Never mind what he does to Ruggie. Some of it can be explained by the build up of blot but not all of it.

And then Chapter 3, Azul, Jade, and Floyd. For the most part, I can see the tweels going along with everything because they both thrive on chaos. But Azul's plan is just...stupid coming from someone who's a professional businessman. First off he has no shortage of workers for the lounge. Ruggie frequently takes shifts there, and Cater while not a waiter also does a lot of work with them. But the whole sea anemone thing was just gross. And apparently, there was nothing in the contract about not disparaging their employer. It might have caused a spike in business at first just because people want to see what's going on for themselves, but overall, he'd ultimately hurt his business and drive customers *away*. Never mind the whole bullying backstory comes out of NOWHERE. Like I do have sympathy for Azul and what he went through and he is one of my favorite characters, but Ch 3 suffered from poor writing in my opinion. Narratively the whole thing was a mess.

Chapter 4 is handled better in my opinion. For the most part, I have the least amount of complaints about what goes on here. My biggest one though is what I mentioned before, Characters tend to exist in a bubble during their chapter events. You can not tell me that Cater nor Lilia wouldn't have tried to figure out what the hell was going on with Kalim. Or Silver for that matter. Never mind how Kalim had the authority to keep his entire dorm at school over a holiday when it's shut down?!!? I get his family is rich and powerful but, that still seems like a stretch idk.

Jamil I think was a least handled well otherwise, his actions and motivations seemed consistent with his character. In the end, he didn't really want to harm anyone, he just wanted his freedom and was desperate. The only real question is what did he think was going to happen next? Even if Kalim got kicked out of NRC then he would have only had about a year and a half of 'freedom' it wouldn't have solved any of his problems. And if Kalim had turned up dead, there would have still been severe repercussions for him and his family. IDK for someone who is supposed to be good at planning and scheming there definitely were parts that weren't well thought-out.

Chapter 5 and Rook is where this conversation started I think but I'll touch on it again. His actions at the end of chapter 5 are COMPLETELY out of character for what we know about him otherwise. Hiding his obsession with Neige from Vil, and then revealing it IN FRONT OF him while he's still licking his wounds from his overblot is just...if this was the only context we had for Rook, no one would be calling them friends. He had no real reason to reveal he was the one that cost them the competition.

The reception to this was so bad that's why we have the start of chapter 6 where Vil gives his speech about professionalism and why he's okay with Rook and what he did. I don't believe the narrative that Vil wasn't hurt at all, not with how he's shown to be so insecure especially where Neige is concerned. Sure I might buy the part about Rook voting for NRC not hurting him, but not the rest of it.

Never mind otherwise Rook isn't cruel. Especially not to Vil, and his actions were just that.

This is also biased, but the fact that Cater was cut from the team, and the reasons why rub me the wrong way. I know that they just wanted Jamil and Kalim because they were the previous chapter's focal point and Ace and Deuce because they're tied to pretty much everything because of Yuu and the story. But Vil keeps talking about being a professional, admitted straight up that Cater's audition was *perfect* but brushed him off and passed him over anyway. (Also Ironic because Cater's VA actually is a musician/singer/ensemble group member and not a traditional VA) but that's off course of the question lol

Also, I will never not be salty that RSA won with their song/performance. All for the narrative. And THEN they gave us a shot at seeing some kind of revenge or at least a win over them after the VDC with Epel's hometown event and yet again WE STILL LOST. I don't understand that one either. It's just frustrating for the players to be put in that situation again needlessly. There was no real narrative/story reason we had to lose.

Chapter 6 we finally get away from the narrative that the characters can't know who each other are in the main story at least -_-;. overall I don't have too many issues with Chapter 6. (other than the mini games -_-) Idia's character is kept consistent. We get some fun moments from the cast, and for the most part its in line with what we know of them and their characters. Azul and Riddle are gold, Jamil needed to hear what Leona told them. (tho it was a little pot kettle but then again that meant that Leona knew what he was talking about). And over all things don't seem AS forced. Had hoped things were gonna get better.

Then Chapter 7 rolled around and they murdered Lilia's character. The character we knew would NEVER treat his family like that. He even gives Malleus a speech in Cater's Halloween SSR about how he'll always be there when he needs him. He's consistently been shown to value his family and connections. It was just such a drastic change I am still baffled. I understand why he would be leaving, but to not really talk to those around him or explain what's going on and make an effort to keep in touch and stay in their lives? It's absurd. Of course Silver and Malleus broke down, if in high school my dad basically told me he was dying and that he was going far away and I'd never see him again, I'd have lost it too, and I'm not nearly as close to my dad as they were to Lilia.

I know they needed something to trigger Malleus's overblot but again this just seems like poor writing to me. The idea of Lilia loosing his powers and possibly dying I think would have been enough if they'd framed it right to push Malleus over the edge. That's difficult /emotional enough and they wouldn't have had to completely destroy Lilia's characterization to make it work. They could have even had the scene with Silver and Malleus when SIlver breaks down crying in front of him after trying to stay strong in front of Lilia so as not to worry him.

I'm trying to reserve too much judgment until we see the entirety of chapter 7 but unless there is some unknown reason for Lilia to have chosen this method of leaving, I don't know how to really justify it.

I get sometimes characters have to make difficult choices it is what helps make a story interesting, but if those choices arise from conflict that's not framed well or meaningful, it loses its potency. It comes across like us as the players and the characters themselves being cheated.

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kacievvbbbb · 4 months ago

Text

Perona and Mihawk

Okay I think I’ve found some of the words.

yeah I don’t think Mihawk understands the concept of protecting your loved ones; because he is attracted to strength, you wouldn’t be his loved one if he didn’t think you were strong and so to him being assured in the knowledge that your cherished ones can and will protect themselves from almost anything is the ultimate act of love. And then allowing them the opportunity to die at the hands of someone stronger, someone worthy is an extension of that. Given the desires he has for his own death he probably thinks it’s a way to honor them.

And the flip side of that is that when those people “fail” when they lose to people (or fish no matter how giant ) that Mihawk has deemed “unworthy” then he’s disappointed. Either they’re not as strong as he thought they were or they’re so reckless and stupid it doesn’t matter and Mihawk can’t abide by either.

And it’s like Mihawk’s never had a child right. Someone literally incapable of protecting themselves from most threats but what he does have

is Perona.

GIF by beif0ngs

Okay wait stay with me here,

I’ve been trying to figure out where she fits in, in all this because I love her and I live for their dynamic with Zoro as a family. But Zoro and Mihawk have this thing that binds them and that relationship is an aspect of Shanks’ with Luffy but Mihawk doesn’t meet Zoro when he’s a vulnerable child. He meets him when he’s a man grown, more than capable of protecting himself and fighting his battles. Hell they wouldn’t even have a relationship if Mihawk thought zoro needed protection and so while meeting him unlocked an understanding of what Shanks saw in Luffy enough to wait for him how ever long it took. He’s still missing the protection part, the reason losing an arm was worth seeing the boy safe. Cause Mihawk’s ready to throw away zoro the moment he perceives weakness.

Enter Perona

And don’t get me wrong Perona’s not in any way weak. Her devil fruit makes her pretty op but the thing is she is the definition of devil fruit dependent, which is obviously fine and dandy and did get her far in Paradise but is not gonna be enough to hang with the big bosses in the New World or be on Mihawk’s radar. Usually, when they don’t unceremoniously get dropped on his island by a brainwashed cyborg bear, and proceeds to break into your castle with a moss headed idiot, that is

GIF by bubbly-bungee-may

She is arguably the “weakest” person Mihawk knows in a none hostile capacity (because I do think she beats buggy) and she is the anthesis of everything we know Mihawk to care about;

She’s not that strong, doesn’t care about being strong or sword fighting, is whiny, has no haki, is lazy and wants everything to be done for her and most unforgivably, like a true self-love icon, she wants to improve on literally none of that! She has literally spent 2 years living with probably one of the best masters of Haki and she doesn’t try to learn once! She is completely content with the level she is at and that is completely fine! But part of that is because she knows, no matter how unbelievable, Mihawk will protect her. He may sulk and sigh and roll his eyes but he will protect her.

Like can you imagine! Mihawk, probably believes in the saying “the strong do what they can, the weak suffer what they must” Mihawk, can, will and has protected her!

GIF by bubbly-bungee-may

The thing Mihawk is most attracted to, the thing he has built almost every other relationship around, is strength and yet he keeps her around.

He watches this loud, “average”, whiny, fearless young woman skulk/float around his castle, complaining about everything, and remembers a story that Shanks told him; about a little boy and how he gave his arm to an unworthy opponent to save him without care or hesitation, how he’d do it a thousand times over, and he thinks he understands now, just a little bit.

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riotwritesthings · 8 days ago

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An Agony We Deserve (Throwing Off Sparks)

WinterIron, M, 5.8k, WIP - reluctant soulmates, angst, drinking, mentions of past ships

There are legends. Soulmate bonds have started and ended wars, they used to reshape the world without any warning. People would change in an instant, abandon and betray everything, become completely unrecognizable, but those are just legends- It can’t be- But they are.

This chapter suuuure went a direction. I really hope you enjoy and don't want to burn me at the stake ahaha

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

~~~

Chapter 3: the ceiling starts to swerve

“This is Colonel Rhodes.”

Rhodey sounds exhausted, and stressed, and Tony knows that as usual it’s at least ninety percent his fault. There’s a cacophony of noise in the background, and Tony’s willing to bet that he’s having a hell of a day.

He wishes he didn’t have to make it worse.

“Hey SourPatch,” Tony forces himself to say in greeting, his throat suddenly dry.

“Holy shit,” Rhodey says in a rush of air, his voice dropping in volume halfway through. There’s a shuffling sound, and then all the background noise is cut off by the heavy thud of a door closing. “Tony, what the hell happened?” He demands in a strained, tense whisper, "you- are you okay?"

“I- I’m fine,” Tony lies.

He’d hoped that hearing Rhodey’s voice would feel comforting, familiar.

Instead he feels… nothing.

No, not nothing. He is relieved to talk to Rhodey again.

But it feels more like- Some small part of him is relieved to have a link to the world. Anything outside of this weird little- soulmate bubble they’ve accidentally set up for themselves, some reminder of what’s real. But even that slice of relief is-

Disconnected.

There’s no warmth to it, no rush of calm comfort that Rhodey’s voice usually gives him. He remembers their decades of friendship perfectly clearly, but- There’s no connection to the voice on the other end of the line, like he’s talking to someone else.

Like he’s talking to a stranger.

Tony’s breath catches wetly in his throat and his eyes burn.

Fuck this stupid bond.

It’s already apparently taken most of his self-control and personal space, replacing them both with- with a stranger. It took all of his plans and goals in Berlin, and probably any remaining scraps of trust his team had in him.

And now this inexplicable thing, some weird imbalance of chemicals or something, is taking his oldest, closest relationship.

Barnes- Bucky- is still staring out the front window, keeping an eye out for whatever and pretending not to listen.

Tony is painfully aware of the distance between them, of the tension winding Bucky’s shoulders up tight. Tony can feel it like a pull in his own chest and if the phone weren’t mounted to the wall he would go over there-

He viciously shoves that thought down, shoves down the ache in his sternum.

Rhodey is still talking on the other end of the line, repeating his name in an increasingly frantic tone, and it’s a struggle to focus on that.

It’s so much easier to focus on the mere feet separating him from Bucky, the way it felt to wake up next to him. Whatever it is that’s been twisting Bucky tighter and tighter since they woke up-

“Tony-”

“I’m here,” Tony says quickly. “I’m okay.”

Over by the window, Bucky’s shoulders twitch up a little higher.

“What happened in Berlin?” Rhodey asks, sounding impossibly more freaked out than he had before.

And that’s the big question, isn’t it? Laughter bubbles up in Tony’s chest before he can stop it, high-pitched and hysterical.

“I’m- It’s- I really can’t get into it right now,” Tony says weakly around slips of laughter that he can’t contain, and he can hear Rhodey’s worry spiking.

Reading his best friend even without seeing him is still as familiar as breathing, but Tony doesn’t *feel * anything.

Not like he can feel Bucky trying and failing not to shift on his feet, painfully curious and trying to fight it. Or maybe just trying to hide it, Tony can’t quite tell but he’s sure that if he got closer-

It’s making it really hard to focus on the conversation. And fuck, he wants to talk to Rhodey. He swears he does. But suddenly it’s not as easy as it’s always been.

“Are you-” Rhodey asks carefully, his voice low, “are you still with him? Are you being held captive?”

The ‘again’ goes unspoken and Tony fights down another hysterical giggle.

He is, but not in any of the ways Rhodey would be expecting. He’s being held captive by himself, by an inability to leave Bucky behind that is so deep-set the idea hasn’t even fully occurred to him.

“Yes, but no, he- he’s here, but it’s nothing like that,” Tony says, because that’s the easy answer. “This is not a Taken situation.”

“That’s not- never mind,” Rhodey says, and things must be really bad if he’s not taking the time to correct Tony on the finer points of action movies.

Fuck, why doesn’t he feel anything?

“So- What then?” Rhodey asks slowly, struggling to wrap his brain around the situation when Tony can’t tell him anything. "Did- I mean, you didn’t- did you kidnap Barnes?"

Tony laughs again and part of him wants to say yes. They kidnapped each other, and themselves, and now they’re holding themselves hostage.

But he knows Rhodey is in no mood for vague jokes.

“Why and how would I have done that?” Tony asks with a strangled chuckle. He remembers the way Barnes had been fighting before they ran into each other, all vicious, brutal efficiency. Even if he’d had his suit, Tony’s not sure he could have gotten The Winter Soldier out of there against the man’s will. At least not alive.

"I don’t know," Rhodey says in a huff, annoyance briefly winning out over his worry, “but Rogers is convinced that you absconded with his friend for some reason.”

“Why?” Tony sputters out while Bucky twitches again.

The other man is more tense than ever, wound so tightly that he’s about to snap. Tony can feel it in his teeth and he wants to dig his fingers into the muscles of Bucky’s shoulders, feel the warmth of him as the tension slowly fades-

"You tell me," Rhodey shoots back. "I’ve seen the security footage, Tones, and no one knows what to think. It looks a hell of a lot like the two of you just- left together."

“That is-” Tony says with a wince, “the extremely short version.” He can tell Rhodey is about to jump in with more questions, and Tony really wants to get to the reason he called. “So, what are people saying, exactly? Other than Steve.”

Rhodey lets out a long, heavy sigh, but tells him.

It’s about as bad as he expected.

There are people who think Tony was captured by the mysterious terrorist, and of course people who think he went rogue and recruited Bucky for his own nefarious purposes. About half of the team thinks it’s some kind of mind control, which would probably break Tony’s heart if he stopped to let himself think about it. But he just urges Rhodey to continue.

Ross has managed to convince a concerning number of people who matter that Tony is some kind of sleeper agent for Hydra, taking back possession of their soldier. Which is an insulting angle for the man to take, he can’t even imagine Tony as a high-ranking undercover genius?

And apparently, Steve thinks Tony kidnapped his best friend. Tony isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. Honestly, he can’t figure out what Steve thinks his reason would be.

“All in all, about half the world is hunting the two of you for one reason or another,” Rhodey finishes. He doesn’t waste a second before demanding, "Now are you going to tell me why?

“I’m sorry, Platypus,” Tony says, and he means it. He wishes he felt it. “I just- I couldn’t-”

Tony knows how he wants to finish that sentence.

‘I couldn’t let anyone take him, couldn’t not go with him, couldn’t fight it.’

But he can’t say any of that out loud, it’s still too raw and terrifying even in his own mind. The power that the bond has over him is still- It’s like a light that’s too bright to look at directly, he can’t face it fully yet.

And he definitely can’t put it into words or he’s pretty sure he’ll throw himself right back into a panic attack.

“I- There was- a thing, and we had to get out of there,” Tony finally says weakly. “And I- I can’t explain it any more than that right now.”

He can hear Rhodey’s displeasure with that answer, but Tony doesn’t feel as guilty as he should. He feels guilty that he doesn’t feel more guilty.

Tony’s chest clenches and he can feel Bucky fighting the urge to turn away from the window to look at him.

“I will, eventually,” Tony promises and hopes like hell it’s not another lie. “I just- I have to wrap my head around this first,” he adds, “and- hopefully my brain won’t fucking explode in the process.”

Rhodey blows out a hard sigh and then asks, “You’ve really gotten yourself into it this time, haven’t you, Tones?”

“You have no idea, SourPatch,” Tony says, fighting down another strangled laugh. He tears his gaze away from Bucky for probably the first time in the conversation so he can rub at his dry eyes. “First I have to- fuck, figure out how to fix this.”

“Well,” Rhodey starts slowly, "it would help a whole hell of a lot if you brought Barnes back-"

“No,” Tony cuts him off, surprising everyone with the vehemence in his voice.

When he drops his hand away from his face he catches Bucky’s eye for a moment, wide and so blue, before Bucky whips his head back around to the window.

“I can’t do that,” Tony continues, trying to keep his tone normal, “he- he’s innocent, Rhodey, he wasn’t even in Vienna.”

He doesn’t need Bucky nodding at the window to confirm it, somehow Tony knows. He’s felt it in the confused tension still wound tightly through Bucky’s chest. In the quiet, terrified exhaustion that started to set in as soon as they made it out of Germany.

Bucky doesn’t know why, or how, but he knows he’s being framed. So Tony knows it too. And he knows that true to Bucky’s word, he’s so used to not having control that he’s not even surprised to be used in this new and creative way.

Rhodey sighs. "Well then, bring him back and prove-"

“C’mon Platypus,” Tony cuts him off again, “you know it isn’t that easy. Someone already got to him while he was in ‘safe custody,’ and if that doesn’t happen again then he’s likely to get ‘disappeared,’ and I can’t-”

Tony’s voice comes to an abrupt stop as his chest clenches painfully, his throat pulling tight. The thought of someone trying to take Bucky away-

The force of the fury that rushes over him knocks the air out of his lungs. Through the pounding of blood in his ears all he can think is that he can’t let that happen, he can’t- he won’t.

No one is going to take his soulmate away from him, not at any cost.

Somewhere far, far beneath the weight of that knowledge, the rational sliver of his mind that remains is terrified to find out what price he’ll be willing to pay.

He doesn’t even want a- but he won’t be able to fight it any more than he’s been able to resist the bond until now, he already attacked Natasha without thought- What else would he do-

Bucky lets out a low, pained sound that Tony snaps out of his spiraling thoughts.

The fuzz and dancing spots fade from his vision as he drags in a shuddering breath, and he sees that Bucky is still politely staring out the window. He can tell that Bucky isn’t actually seeing anything though, too caught up in his own thoughts, in the tension pulling his shoulders painfully tight.

Tony forces himself to take another slow breath, and Bucky relaxes minutely.

"Hey, Tones, Tony-" Rhodey is saying in his ear and it filters slowly into Tony’s consciousness, so much less important than watching Bucky’s hand shake as he balls it into a fist.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here,” Tony forces out, his voice rough.

He must sound really bad, because Rhodey takes pity on him and doesn’t ask any more questions.

“Look,” he says, almost as gently as he spoke when Tony first came back from Afghanistan, “I’ve been working to clear up all the most ridiculous lies. Are you safe right now, wherever you are?”

Tony only has to stare at Bucky’s back for a second before the man nods stiffly.

“As safe as I can be in a haunted shack,” Tony replies with a weak attempt at a smile, hoping that Rhodey can hear it over the line.

“Okay,” Rhodey says, “okay, here’s the plan.”

~~~

Tony is not a fan of the plan.

He doesn’t like that Rhodey is fighting Ross and his ridiculous lies for him. He doesn’t like that he’s just supposed to wait until Rhodey can make sure that they won’t be black-bagged the second they step foot back on the grid.

And he especially doesn’t like that he’s supposed to wait here, in the farmhouse from hell. With its outhouse and its single broken bed.

Despite the size of the mess, part of him had been looking forward to cleaning it up. Arguing with Steve and rich old senators is at least familiar, would make him feel like he still has some semblance of control over his life.

He was really fucking looking forward to feeling in control again.

Instead he’s still stuck out here, just him and Bucky.

It’s like they’ve left the rest of the world behind and Tony- He needs to get back to the real world. He can’t fight the bond but maybe he could- could ignore it a little more with other people around, with all the complicated problems that he can’t- He can barely remember right now.

The Accords, the Avengers, SI and everything, it’s all so far away. And if he doesn’t get back to it soon-

He’s not sure that he’ll want to.

With a frustrated sigh Tony finally stops glaring at the phone hanging on the wall.

Bucky is still standing at the front window, resolutely pretending to ignore Tony’s conversation. Despite everything, Tony feels a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, excellent ignoring,” Tony says with a huff, “you can stop now.”

After a second of hestiation, his fists still clenched, Bucky turns to face him again and-

Blue.

Tony’s next inhale is so much easier, like his lungs are filling fully for the first time since Bucky stepped across the shack. It’s so damn nice, all the stress of the phone call melting away. The guilt and the distance of hiding from his best friend are inconsequential.

The real world is all mistakes and panic attacks. Why does he need-

Bucky’s gaze drops to the floor and Tony’s chest pulls tight again.

Something is still tearing Bucky apart, and he doesn’t know what.

It’s been getting worse and worse since they woke up, since whatever occurred to him and ruined their relatively peaceful morning. And Tony doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t think it’s just Bucky taking his turn with the panic attack. It’s related to being stuck here for an unknown amount of time, the tension spiked sharply when that part of the plan came up, but that’s not the whole story.

Whatever it is, it’s stabbing through Bucky’s lungs and turning his stomach, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tony can feel it like a phantom pain in his own chest, he can feel it crawling its way up Bucky’s throat.

The silence stretches as Bucky stares at the floor and Tony stares at him. Tony’s pulse is picking up as the tension builds.

It- it’s bad. It’s hanging over them like an anvil, like a guillotine, and Tony stops breathing as Bucky takes a shuddering inhale.

Bucky opens his mouth, and Tony tries to brace himself.

But all Bucky says is, “I was tryin’ not to listen.” His tone is sheepish but his voice is tight, nearly strangled.

Tony lets out a hard rush of air. Part of him wants to pry, most of him wants to pry, but-

He shouldn’t even know that something’s wrong with Bucky. They don’t actually know each other, they met yesterday.

Without the bond he wouldn’t be able to read Bucky at all, or at least not nearly this well. If he tries to pry- It’s like he’s giving into the bond. Accepting it.

And he can’t do that.

So Tony forces himself to let it go, to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s carefully blank face.

“If we’re stuck here, there better be food,” Tony says as he turns towards the small kitchen. “I am not above eating you for survival.”

After a couple of seconds Bucky silently shuffles after him, like he just can’t help himself.

There is food, and most of it is still safely packed in cans and sealed jars. Even if it doesn’t look very appetizing. There’s no coffee, though, which means that Tony’s headache is only going to get worse.

While Bucky hopefully determines if the water is safe, Tony slams through the cabinets a final time. He’s not pouting, but he’s also not actually expecting to find anything else.

Until he discovers the large jar of clear liquid hidden in the back of a high cabinet.

“'S that moonshine?” Bucky asks, suddenly standing just close enough that Tony can feel the rumble of his voice.

“Samanė, I believe,” Tony says, already unscrewing the lid, “which, basically the same thing.”

He’s trying to ignore the shiver running down his spine. And he’s trying even harder to ignore the urge to lean back into Bucky and chase the feeling.

It may not be the best idea at the moment, but Tony does need a distraction. And if he’s stuck here then he’ll take what he can get.

~~~

"This’s strong," Bucky says, squinting into his chipped glass.

Tony hums in agreement.

He’s not sure where his own glass is. He knows he had it when he dropped down onto the couch.

Before he can work up the effort to look for it Bucky is picking Tony’s glass up from the ground and offering it to him. Tony takes it with a grunt of thanks. Bucky quickly returns to staring into his own glass.

His next swig of the strong liquor doesn’t burn, just settles nicely in the warm pit of Tony’s stomach.

The tension is being forcibly melted out of his limbs. All the problems are being drowned out by the pleasant buzzing between his ears.

He considers the other man, because through the warm haze nothing else matters. And he can’t quite remember why that matters right now.

Bucky decided to sit in front of the couch when Tony sprawled out over the entire thing. He’s been shooting Tony increasingly un-subtle looks as they drink. With the way he’s leaning back, if Tony just moved his leg a little it would press against the strong, tense line of Bucky’s shoulders.

Tony takes another sip and forces himself to stay still.

Bucky glances over him again. The faintest hint of pink is spreading across his cheeks.

They’ve been carefully not talking since they started drinking. They don’t really need to.

But Tony still finds himself asking, “Is this- is it doin’ anythin’ for you?”

Bucky looks over at him and Tony tips his glass in explanation. Bucky’s lips twitch as he nods. He returns his gaze to his half-empty glass, then downs it.

"An’ it’s disinfectin’ my throat," Bucky says with a cough and a wince.

“Good,” Tony says as Bucky grabs for the jar again, "pretty sure you’re drinkin’ most of it. And if you’re just doin’ it to feel the burn I will- I’m gonna be mad."

Bucky snorts as he refills his glass.

“And Steve can- can’t even get drunk,” Tony adds.

The words slip out before he can think them through. The way that Bucky flinches minutely at the name isn’t really a surprise. Tony feels bad for bringing it up, he feels-

A lot of things.

He slid further down against the arm of the couch at some point and he’s mostly staring at the stained ceiling. His shin is pressed against the line of Bucky’s shoulders and he doesn’t remember doing that either. It takes effort to lift his head enough to keep Bucky in his field of view.

Now that he’s started Tony can’t seem to stop talking. The words are bubbling up in his throat and he can’t quite remember why he shouldn’t let them out.

So much for their unspoken ‘no speaking’ agreement.

"Still can’t believe he thinks I fuckin’- That I kidnapped you," he says with a snort.

Bucky’s metal thumb moves restlessly around his glass. It clicks against the chipped rim.

“No of-ffense,” Tony adds. He rolls his head along the arm of the couch to stare sideways at Bucky. “You just- you seem more the kidnapper- kidnappy type.”

He watches with fascination as emotions make their way across Bucky’s face. Wondering if he should be offended followed by reluctant amusement. Tony can feel all of it.

And he can feel the cold knot that wraps itself back around Bucky’s lungs as soon as the moment is gone. Tony still can’t put a name to the feeling and he’s getting pretty sick of all the things he can’t explain.

Like what’s bothering Bucky. And the fact that he has a soulmate. And why Steve would even think-

“Wait,” Tony says, failing his way upright. He spills a good half of his drink on his undershirt and takes a split second to wonder when he lost his dress shirt. “Wait,” he says again and has to blink a couple times as the room spins, “wait, did- tell me I didn’-”

He trails off, trying to tell through the haze of liquor if what he’s remembering is real. Bucky looks up at him again, and Tony’s breath catches.

Fuck, when is that going to stop happening? He already has enough trouble breathing.

Bucky is still staring at him and Tony struggles to remember what he’d been about to say.

“Was- Is there any truth to the rumors of- of war-torn lovers?” Tony asks, alarm creeping into his voice. "Did I steal Captain America’s boyfriend?"

The way Bucky’s eyes go wide and his shoulders hunch up around his ears says plenty, even as his mouth opens and closes wordlessly.

Tony groans as he flops heavily back down onto the couch. At least he doesn’t spill his drink this time. There’s a laugh building in his chest, edged with hysteria. It certainly explains a lot.

“I think he might- he might actually kill me,” Tony says to the shifting patterns on the ceiling.

They fall into silence while Tony tries to wrap his head around just how fucked up this is. He can hear Bucky finishing off another glass. His own drink is suddenly sitting a little too warm in his gut.

“It wasn’-” Bucky says slowly and Tony cranes his head around to look at him. “It wasn’ really like that. Or- We jus’- We never-”

“Never quite found the right time?” Tony guesses when he trails off. Because isn’t that how all the tragedies go?

Bucky nods into his empty glass, his expression twisted in misery.

The hot pit of something in Tony’s stomach is getting worse, starting to crawl its way up his throat. He’d almost think he’s about to be sick except-

He’s jealous. It’s jealousy burning its way through his chest, familiar but twisted.

Which is stupid for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that he doesn’t need to be. According to all the legends Bucky can’t- They’re stuck together now. Neither one of them can leave.

Tony has to remind himself that it’s because they don’t have a choice. It shouldn’t be comforting, to know that someone can’t leave him, can never even want to-

No, he wants Bucky- Someone, he wants someone to have a choice about staying with him.

He tells himself that’s what he wants. He wishes he believed it.

“I need more- more booze,” Tony says as he pushes himself upright, "way more booze for this fuckin'- conversation."

Bucky hands him the jar, turning towards him in the process. Tony squints at the amount of liquid remaining before taking a swig directly from the jar.

"You- What’d you mean, rumors?" Bucky asks. His eyebrows are pinched and it’s-

Definitely not adorable.

Tony hums and takes another sip, stalling.

“You, uh-” he says slowly, “the two of you- may have been a brief topic. In my- Um, in my queer history elective?”

Bucky blinks slowly. Then he lets out a long groan and drops his face to the couch cushion next to Tony’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Tony says with a wince and does his best not to laugh. “Is that- Is it better or worse than bein’ a ghost?”

“Worse,” Bucky mutters into the couch.

Tony decides not to tell him about the recovered sketches that were shown in that class.

When Bucky eventually lifts his head again it’s to steal the jar of Samanė back and take a long drink. His face is distinctly more flushed and loose strands of hair are clinging to his forehead.

The rest of the room is spinning, but Tony has no problem focusing on the tired blue of Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky looks away again, embarrassment and some new flavor of guilt twisting him up. There’s no sadness though, and Tony’s pretty sure that’s the reason for at least half of the guilt.

“You- Don’ feel bad,” Tony says and nudges his knee against Bucky’s shoulder. “Who- I mean who hasn’t had a big ol’ crush on Steve?” He adds sarcastically.

He slowly realizes he’d forgotten to add any sarcasm to his voice as Bucky raises an eyebrow at him. Tony could try to play it off, but he can feel his own cheeks warming. And Bucky will see right through him.

“There was a fan club at my boarding school,” Tony says defensively. He’s not sure if it helps his point or not.

Bucky snorts out a laugh halfway through taking another drink and winces. Tony doesn’t feel bad for him. But he can’t stop talking.

"And then I met Steve, which- He’s- I mean, I guess I don’t have to tell you-" Tony finds himself saying, despite swearing he’d never admit this to anyone.

It’s easier than he would have thought. The battle of New York and everything that followed feels so far away now. He remembers all the feelings, the hurt followed by longing and the sting of rejection when Steve- when no one stayed-

But it’s like it all happened to someone else. Like he read it in a story.

Bucky is still watching him, arm propped up on the couch. The flush of liquor doesn’t hide the complicated mix of emotions moving over his face as he waits.

"Not that anythin’ ever- y’know, happened," Tony finishes quickly and doesn’t bother wondering why he needs to assure Bucky of that. “He never- And I’m me, so-”

Tony sinks his teeth into his lower lip, cutting himself off. Bucky’s eyebrows furrow. He starts to open his mouth, and Tony cuts him off too.

“And then someone came back to life,” he says with the best glare he can work up at the moment, “an’ there- there went my chance. Or my delusional dream of a chance, anyways.”

Bucky winces apologetically and offers him the liquor. Tony laughs and takes it while he watches the other man clench his jaw. This time he knows exactly what Bucky is feeling.

“Super weird backward jealousy pangs, right?” He asks knowingly and tries not to be pleased about it. He fails.

A wry smile pulls at Bucky’s lips as he nods slightly. He drops his gaze to the couch and watches himself pick at the worn fabric.

“An’- An’ what about now?” Bucky asks without looking up. “Was- I-Is there-”

It takes Tony a second to figure out what he’s asking, and then he huffs.

“No, no worries,” he says, leaning forward slightly to pat Bucky’s metal elbow. “You’re not the- the homewrecker here, jus’ me.”

For a second he doesn’t even remember that that wouldn’t have been true, a couple of weeks ago.

The breakup with Pepper had been so fresh and raw even- fuck, just a day ago. When he’d been reluctantly admitting it to Steve and fighting down a twisted mess of emotions. Now it doesn’t hurt any worse than when his first crush had laughed in his face.

The soulmate bond makes one hell of a bandaid, and at least that’s something.

Bucky is still staring at him, like he can see Tony going over all of that in his mind. And he probably can. Tony’s hand is still resting on the other man’s metal arm, and he wonders if Bucky can feel it.

The silence stretches and Tony takes an uncomfortable swig of Samanė. He should probably move his hand, but he doesn’t.

“I am- 'M pretty good at chasing people off all- all on my own,” he can’t help adding, and Bucky’s eyebrows furrow again. “Don’ make that face at me,” Tony says and lifts his hand to poke Bucky between the eyebrows instead.

Bucky blinks and his face softens in surprise. Then he laughs, and Tony grins as his heart thumps in his chest. Bucky reaches up to grab Tony’s hand and pull it away from his face. Their fingers fit together without any effort and Bucky’s skin is surprisingly soft against his.

“Why d’you- you keep-” Bucky starts and then trails off, distracted. He runs his thumb over a burn scar on the side of Tony’s hand.

Tony’s breath catches and doesn’t restart as Bucky’s thumb moves down to his palm. He can feel the swirls of Bucky’s thumbprint against his skin. Every drag sends a bolt of warmth through him that the warmth of the liquor can’t compare to.

He inhales shakily when Bucky looks up at him, caught in those blue eyes.

What had they been talking about? He doesn’t remember now.

Bucky licks his lips and Tony stares. The way they’ve been drinking, they probably taste the same- And once the thought hits him Tony has to know-

He’s not sure which of them leans forward. Maybe him, because the room is spinning again. Bucky sighs and Tony can feel the rush of air against his cheek.

Tony shifts his fingers against Bucky’s wrist and realizes he can feel Bucky’s rapid pulse. He’s pretty sure his own heart is beating in time and he’s still moving closer.

It’s like he’s being pulled in, like he doesn’t have a choice.

Does he even need a choice? This feels- Why does he need anything else when this is so-

Right.

He can almost feel Bucky’s lips against his. Tony’s eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open.

He wants-

Beneath his fingers, Bucky’s pulse skips. It stops entirely for a terrifying second, then starts racing sickeningly. Something cold rushes through Bucky and he sucks in a sharp breath as he jerks away.

His hand slips away from Tony’s.

It’s just like this morning. The same icy chill running through Bucky as he pulls away. The same gut-twisting feeling that’s- It’s like guilt but so much more complicated.

It's different than when they were talking about Steve, or anything else. It’s-

Part of Tony doesn’t want to know.

Bucky won’t meet his eyes. He’s curling in on himself, withdrawing.

And Tony can’t let that happen. He can’t let this keep happening. He can’t-

He tightens his grip on the nearly empty jar and swallows thickly.

“Alright, out with it,” he says.

“What?” Bucky asks, practically flinching. He pulls his arm off the couch and curls it into his chest.

“Out with it,” Tony repeats, his voice shaking. “Whatever you need to tell me, just spill. It- It’s been driving you crazy all day and that- it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky goes carefully still. He doesn’t look up. He’s not breathing.

Tony waits. He bites his lip again so he won’t start demanding answers.

There are already so many things right now that he doesn’t know, doesn’t understand. He needs to know.

What could be so bad?

This isn’t- Bucky isn’t supposed to be able to pull away. He can’t, that’s not how it- This isn’t fair.

Tony can’t completely swallow down a hurt noise. His eyes burn. It feels like his chest is cracking open, his lungs filling with ice- with snow-

Bucky’s gaze flicks up to him and then down again, expression pained. Blue eyes haunted.

Neither of them are breathing now.

He can’t stop thinking that none of this is fair.

Tony doesn’t- he didn’t even want a soulmate and now- The thought of Bucky pulling away is gutting him. It’s not fair that something as stupid as a secret is cracking his chest open.

It isn’t fair of him to need answers, either. Part of him knows that. They’d still be strangers, if they had a choice-

But they don’t.

“Bucky,” he says, his voice a harsh croak. A plea. He wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

The other man flinches like he’d shouted. Tony waits.

Finally Bucky drags in a shuddering breath and tears his eyes away from his own hands. He practically snatches the jar from Tony and finishes off the Samanė in one long swallow.

Tony’s stomach churns as he continues to wait.

Bucky takes another steadying breath and fixes his gaze over Tony’s shoulder. His jaw clenches. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

The crater in Tony’s chest gets deeper.

“N-Nine- Nineteen Ninety One,” Bucky eventually manages to get out. His voice is raw and his eyes are glazed, unseeing. “December n-ninet-teenth.”

That’s all he says for a long moment and Tony is still waiting.

He doesn’t even recognize the date for a split second, and then he’s just confused.

“I-I was-” Bucky continues haltingly. The feeling of cold gets worse. “I- It wasn’ an accident.”

It doesn’t makes sense. Tony knows that date, but it was- His parents died in an accident. He knows that. He-

“What?” Tony asks flatly. Blankly. He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t- it doesn’t make sense.

Bucky swallows thickly. His cheeks are wet and all the color has faded from his face.

Tony wants to reach out, but he doesn’t.

He can’t move.

“December N-Nineteenth,” Bucky says again. His hands are clenched together so tightly that they both shake. “It wasn’ an- I-I was there, I- I’m th- I-”

Bucky’s voice cuts off, strangled. He clenches his jaw.

There’s a sick feeling rising in Tony’s throat, and he’s not sure which of them it belongs to.

“You- what’re you-” Tony starts to ask, gasping the words out.

But he doesn’t need to.

Bucky blinks rapidly and then meets Tony’s eye. He looks so-

It-

Everything hurts.

And Tony-

He knows.

#my fic #winteriron #starkbucks #bucky/tony #buckyxtony #an agony we deserve #riot writes #reluctant soulmates

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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

Text

Monster Mayhem: Little Red Rapscallion

Gender Neutral Reader x Jack Howl Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: 'Dear Evil, Overlord, Patron. Please stop sicking your demon guard dog on me. I'm only trying to help. Kind Regards, Little Red Ridinghood'

A/N: Thank you so much to @insideous-beez for the brain rot, which became brain fertilizer, and eventually a functional story; This one is a bit darker than the other installments due to the Warlock/Evil Deity goodness, so there is a bit more horror here!

[PART 1]

Your grandmother had always told you to mind your manners when it came to the creatures who made the forest their home.

Or, well. That was a lie. Many lies, really. If you wanted to be nitpicky.

Firstly, the old crone who lived deep within the borough of the cursed trees wasn’t actually your grandmother. At least, not in the biological sense that seemed to matter most within your little, provincial, town. She was just a kindly, wrinkled, turnip of a woman who found you wandering the mudflats one day and decided she liked your spunk and general lack of self-awareness. She patted your head, served you strange, bubbling, teas laced with sweet magics, and always returned you to your fretful parents by sundown. And so, she was Grandma. Even if calling her that aloud made your parents go nearly green and had the local shopkeepers crossing themselves and spritzing you with Holy Water.

Secondly, Grandma had never told you to keep to your manners. Usually, she encouraged the opposite. (‘Why not curse them, huh?’ she’d complain loudly. ‘They’re thieving bastards, the lot of them.’ ‘Grandma,’ you’d sigh. ‘The street cleaners are just doing their job. They didn’t mean to steal your dead racoons.’) The idea of her demanding you act ‘proper’ and ‘kind’ was damn near laughable. But what she did enforce upon you with all the firmness of a world-weary teacher was the concept of not fucking with that which ought not be fucked with.

And the sprawling, Shaftland Forest was not to be fucked with.

It had always been a great, creeping, thing. The trees would groan and whisper as you passed, and when their sharp branches tangled in your cloak like grasping fingers, it never felt like an accident. The animals that lived beneath those trees were even stranger—wild, large, beasts with glinting eyes and an arcane mysticism about them that left icicles in their tracks even on summer days, or tangled the undergrowth into something that moved.

The people of your village did not enter the Shaftland Forests. They put up signs, and wards, and spun cautionary tales to every traveler who dared step even a single foot into their teeny, terrified, homestead.

You visited regularly. Because you were half-stupid at least, and because Grandma lived in those woods. And while she’d cautioned you about treating her habitat with care, she’d promised ages ago that so long as you were sweet to the forest, it would forever be sweet on you too.

‘There is a great power in these trees,’ she’d hum to you, as she stirred a simmering pot that looked to be filled with the blood of… something you probably shouldn’t think too hard about. ‘You would have been a lovely gift for it, you know.’ She laughed under her breath. It didn’t sound like a joke. ‘But you were too precious to ruin like that. So he decided we ought to keep you.’

You had no idea who ‘he’ was supposed to be, but you always made sure to shower the forest with compliments. As thanks for not using you as whatever being a, uhm, lovely gift entailed. ‘Oh what nice leaves you have,’ you told many a tree. ‘And what large petals have bloomed today,’ to all the flowers. You’d always been safe in these woods—sheltered beneath a bubble of golden affection and the soft scents of the richest perfumes. The forest always welcomed you with open branches and the coo of creaking bark.

Which is why the twisty field of black thorns blocking your usual pathway gave you pause.

You reached out a finger and prodded one of the sharp points. It bit into your skin with the clear intention of drawing blood, before swaying away at the last moment to twine loosely around your wrist.

Huh. How peculiar.

“May I pass?” you asked the thorns.

The shivering web of ebony tightened along the path and you frowned.

“May I pass, please?” you tried again.

The briar patch seemed to heave with a gusty, angry, sigh. You were about to reach forward and try your luck one more time when a deep, rumbling, snarl curled out from the shadows beyond. Out of the sea of roiling darkness and dainty thorns strode a great, white, wolf. It bared its teeth at you in an expression that was entirely unpleasant.

Immediately you held up your hands in placation and took a wide step backwards. The wolf just kept growling at you like you’d murdered its entire family or something else equally egregious. It skulked forward soundlessly, ears pinned flat.

“My apologies,” you said, dipping your chin in a gentle bow. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just trying to use this path to—”

The wolf lunged at you with a near roar, and you just barely managed to roll out of the way with a shriek. The thing landed hard in the dirt where you’d just been not a moment prior, and it swung its great, fanged, maw in your direction.

“Apologies, old one,” you tried again, just as Grandma had taught you. “But I really just—”

The wolf snapped, nearly taking off your fingers, and you folded over like a turtle that had been upended on its back—rolling around helplessly with your limbs flailing wildly as you went. The sharp crack of your head against the ground left your brain rattling around like dried beans in a can, and you could taste the copper sting where you’d bitten down into your tongue. The failed cartwheel had set you back a solid fifteen feet from the wood’s edge, and the wolf huffed at you—a stupidly pointed ‘stay away’ if you’d ever seen one. It glared at you with glowing, golden, eyes for a long moment before melting back into the shadows.

You spat out the cocktail of mud and blood pooling along your tongue, and wiped angrily at your sore chin. The forest had never denied you before. So maybe it wasn’t your lovely, lonely, trees that were sending you away. Maybe it was just this stupid wolf. Maybe the beast was trying to make a stand—to usurp the role of whatever spirit had ruled over this dark land for so long now. You grumbled and made your way back to your feet. It was fine. Your forest was strong. It would never lose to such a stupidly fluffy opponent. You’d just have to try again tomorrow.

The next day you armed yourself with a small arsenal of goodies. Daggers, ropes, armloads of talismans, and kindling, and rations. You hoisted your bow across your back and carefully plucked at the soft fletching of the arrows. The feathers buzzed beneath your fingers, and after a moment of uneasy hesitance, you cautiously replaced the weapon where it hung over your bed. Grandma had never liked the idea of you carrying weapons in the forest (‘it invites troublemakers’ she’d warned), but if something really had gone wrong in her woods, then it was better to worry about asking forgiveness than permission. And surely you could argue for a dagger. The bow… With its weighted arcana and strange, dissonant, strength felt like something dangerous.

So you apologized to the rippling thorns before cutting them back with swift, precise, strokes of your blade and starting down that familiar path to Grandma’s cottage.

You made it about fifty yards before one of your talismans began to ping worryingly. The tingling thrum along your side was just enough of a warning to keep you from being mauled outright.

The White Wolf lunged from between the trees and you skittered out of the way of its attack. For such a huge creature, it was so silent. And its gleaming, downy, coat should have more than given away its position in the gloom. There must have been some kind of magic to it—something old, and ancient, that let the beast slip through the darkness unseen.

The Wolf situated itself firmly in the center of the path, hackles raised and shoulders hunched like it was readying itself to pounce.

“I need to get through,” you told it, firm, and raised one of the Protective talismans. After a heavy moment you scowled and bit out, “Please.”

The Wolf snarled and propelled itself forward. It latched its overlarge teeth in the fabric of your red cloak and quickly began to drag you to the ground. You frantically flailed about, and just managed to avoid those glinting fangs enough to thrust the talisman up into the beast’s ribs with a heavy smack. The charm lit with a brilliant, amethyst, gleam and sparks shot through the air. You let out a triumphant, ‘ah HA!’ And then all that magic fizzled out like a dying candle. You gaped in horror as the ‘one hundred percent foolproof, don’t you worry about that child’ Protective talisman fluttered to the ground like a discarded bit of newspaper.

“Oh, shit,” you croaked, as your cloak was shredded between the wolf’s canines with a horribly shrill wriiiiiip.

You sprinted like a bat out of Hell, tearing through the undergrowth and only just managing to collapse beyond the border of the tree line before the wolf could snap its jaws around your ankles. You curled your limbs protectively up beneath you, and watched through a veil of cold sweat as it paced along the foliage—leaving no tracks in its wake.

Fine, you thought bitterly. Two can play at this game.

The next morning you walked North, beyond the only safe paths you knew. Carefully, you began to scuttle your way up the nearest, gnarled, tree. The bark groaned and rattled beneath your fingers, as if disquieted. But there were no trails of white fur yet darting about the underbrush, so you offered the tree a hasty apology before climbing higher.

From there, it was only a matter of cautiously hopping from branch to branch. Normally when you’d tried ridiculous feats of stupidity like this in the past, the trees seemed more than eager to help you along—practically reaching out with their branches to catch you in their willowy, wooden, fingers. But they seemed stiff today, testy. The leaves themselves seemed to complain as you went, and you shushed them as politely as you could.

There was a sharp bark from beneath you, and you looked down to see the Wolf circling your perch in a frantic, pacing, dance.

“Hello!” you beamed, perfectly, poisonously, pleasant. “Nice to see you too!”

The Wolf sneered, lips curling up into a tight, tense, bow over its fangs.

You leaned forward, keeping a hand securely looped into your roost.

“Aww,” you cooed. “Is it too hard to climb up here with those big, fluffy, paws?” you mocked, wiggling your own fingers contentedly. “Bet someone really wishes they had opposable thumbs, huh?”

And then, like you were being smited by God Himself, the branch beneath your feet cracked clean in half, and you plummeted to the ground bellow with a harrowing screech. Naturally, you landed right at the wolf’s aforementioned stupid, fluffy, paws. Its great head lowered, and you could feel the heat of its breath as it growled into your face.

With a pathetic little ‘eep!’, the talisman tucked into the back of your boot burst into life and you flickered like a janky illusion. You stumbled to your feet a dozen or so yards away, fighting the urge to double over and barf. Slipping through planes was unpleasant at the best of times, let alone when under actual fucking duress.

The Wolf blinked its wide, golden, eyes at the empty space beneath its paws, and then whipped its head in your direction like a blood hound. You pushed yourself upright with the help of the very tree who had betrayed you so thoroughly, and began your hasty retreat.

You crashed through a curtain of thorns and out into the open with a gasp.

You rolled forward like the world’s most inelegant acrobat and came to a skidding halt in the dirt. You sat up with an achy cough, dislodging muck, and rocks, and leaves from your windpipe.

The Wolf prowled behind you—its glare a set of golden pinpricks in the gloom.

“What is your problem?!” you wailed.

The wolf tossed its head, like rolling its eyes wouldn’t have been enough. And snapped at you with another one of those pissy, bitten off, growls.

“You know what?” you seethed, swinging back onto your knees to jab a finger at it accusatorily. “Fuck you!”

The thing had the absolute gall to snort at you before turning to return to its ceaseless patrol.

By the time you hauled yourself back to your family home, you must have looked an absolute mess. No one bothered to stop you when you practically clawed your way up the stairs and into your small bedroom. Though to be fair, no one really bothered to stop you for anything anymore. Not since an old women with too much spare time and not nearly enough light in her eyes had decided that you were a child to be treasured.

You grabbed your bow off the wall and slung it over your back. The sleek, silvery, wood hummed beneath your fingers. It had been a gift, one whose very existence you stalwartly refused to question. The weapon was finer than anything that could have come from your village’s blacksmith, or honestly probably any human craftsman. It was weightless. It was too heavy. It sang in your hands. It was not a token to be bestowed lightly. But… Well. Whoever it had belonged to before, it was yours now.

And you were going to shoot that goddamn Wolf right in the ass.

On the fourth day of your apparent banishment from the Shaftland Forest, you stormed those woods like a would-be conqueror. The silver bow keened beneath your palms, and you held a thin, spiked, arrow knocked and at the ready. Your nemesis found you in no time at all, and you bared your teeth at the stupid, fucking, mutt before it had the chance.

“One last time,” you said, drawing your bow as tight as you could. “Let me pass, beast. Or I will go through you.”

The wolf’s hackles were raised, but the snarl had slipped off its face. It dug its claws into the dirt, and you watched something like surprise work its way across the thing’s regal features. Its golden glare flickered from you, to the bow, and back again, like it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

“I have business in these woods,” you demanded. And then, petulantly—because you just wanted to know that your stupid, devil worshipping, turnip of a grandmother was okay, and you were so fucking fed up with this garbage—you stomped at the ground and shouted, “And I was here first! So scram, you overgrown Pomeranian!”

The Wolf’s ears drooped, and something like a tremor worked its way down its spine. But then the thing was shaking its giant head like it was surfacing from beneath a pool of water, and it straightened its posture with a rumbling growl.

“Fine,” you snapped, and unleased the first arrow. It whizzed past your fingertips with a thready, shrill, fwoom faster than you could track. The booming force of it shocked you enough to have you shooting wide, and you watched that pin-thin arrow hit a tree trunk and sink all the way through to the other side.

The Wolf rushed forward when you went to reload, fur standing on end like you’d run it through with a bolt of lightning. It tackled you bodily to the ground with a yelp, and you wheezed as the air was knocked out of your lungs in one, fell, swoop. The bow tumbled out of your hands and you scrabbled for it wildly. And then the beast lunged for the bright red of your hood, as it seemed so keen to do in each of your past scuffles. But maybe it was done playing with you. Or maybe it just wasn’t expecting you to flail around so terribly. Because its garish fangs bore down past the soft, billowy, fabric of your cloak and tore straight into the meat of your arm instead.

You gasped and weren’t entirely able to swallow down the sharp shriek of pain that bubbled up and out of your throat. The wolf reared back in shock, its mouth stained red. It immediately ducked back in close, and then away, and then in again. Like it wasn’t sure what to do. The stalwart resolve from earlier was gone—replaced entirely by a bumbling sort of panic that had your head swimming more than the blood loss.

You tucked your arm in close, feeling the tattered remains of shredded fabric curling beneath new, warm, wetness. The Wolf cautiously nosed forward, but when you flinched it reared back like you’d struck it. The beast stepped pointedly away, and then began to pace frantically back and forth. Occasionally it would stop, like it was going to move in close again. But then its pointy ears would press stiff and flat atop its head and it would skulk away all over again.

Whatever, you seethed silently, jerkily ruffling through your bag for some of the Healing talismans you knew were tucked away at the bottom. If the monster felt some kind of weird guilt for taking a chomp out of you when it’d already been doings its damndest to maul you for the past four days straight, that was its problem.

It was taking you longer to unearth the talismans than you would have liked, and your hand was really starting to shake in earnest. The Wolf whined high and miserable in its throat, and you rationally decided that it would be a terrible, petty, idea to waste what little composure you had left just to tell it to fuck right off.

The horrid mess of crimson had begun to seep its way along your skin—dripping down your wrist to plop against the damp, mossy, earth with an echoing plip plip plip that was not unlike the fall of slow, fat, spring rain. The air around you seemed to grow heavier with it—the trees swaying at their roots and the dark, shriveled, flowers straining against their stems to get a taste. The Wolf’s golden gaze flicked around the grove cautiously, and you watched its black nose twitch in obvious discomfort. You swore you could see hands—dozens, hundreds of inky appendages reaching out from the shadows. Fingers twisting up into claws like they meant to grab onto you and dig in, never letting go. The Wolf settled itself at your back like a brick wall, snarling doggedly at the wispy talons. The beast was so large it practically enveloped the entirety of you, and you had to fight the delirious, dizzy, urge to lean back into its impractically soft fur.

“Hey! Are you alright over there?”

Both you and the Wolf jolted in surprise as a group of adventurers plowed their way through the trees. The Wolf’s already distressed expression twisted into something nearly manic and it roared—putting all those ferocious teeth on display.

“Woah!” one of them yelped, crashing to a halt and dragging their friends to a stop beside them. “What the fuck?!”

The others all looked equally startled, hands settling heavily on their weapons. And while right now Mister Wolfy wasn’t outright nomming on you or your limbs, there was a still a steady stream of blood trailing from the wound near your shoulder—a set of very obvious teeth marks sitting stark and red against the rest of you.

“We heard a scream,” another spoke up. Then, pointedly raising the sharp edge of his sword, asked, “Is this your companion, Ranger?”

‘Ranger?’ you blinked, confused, before remembering the bow still sitting in the dirt by your feet. Before you could respond, the Wolf lurched forward over your shoulder. It didn’t leave you—didn’t stray from its steadfast position at your hind—but it pushed its gaping, angry, maw as close to the group as it could. The trio reeled back as the monster snapped, and snarled, and nearly vibrated out of its skin with rage. But… no. Something wasn’t quite right. As viciously angry as all that harsh barking sounded, there was something very, very disquieting about it. Something strained, something afraid.

The one with his sword raised stepped forward, the others moved to follow. And then they were gone.

You blinked, shocked silly. There had been people there—not a second before. You were sure of it. What the fuck was happening?—

And then there was a discordant scream from somewhere deeper in the woods. Distant, but close. Like there were arcane tricks distorting the way of the world. Keeping you separate from the horrible, grinding, shrieking noises while… whatever was happening carried on—not a dozen yards away. Cloaked in shadows and rotten, violet, petals like how a parent might gently close a curtain around a child’s bed at night. You watched in half-awe, half-horror as seeping, purple, miasma leached from the trees and into the air. It chased the intruders with vicious intent. You could feel the sharp, dark, heat of it prickling along your skin, but when that swirl of near-black enchantments made its way to you, it slipped past you like smoke—leaving only a faint trace of awful, coppery, perfume against your clothes.

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” a deep, miserable, voice echoed in your head, and you jerked around in shock to see the Wolf staring at you with heavy, gold eyes.

“Did… Are you…” you trailed off, swallowing. Not sure how to even begin asking what you wanted to ask.

The Wolf sighed, bone deep and weary.

“I tried so hard to keep everyone away,” its voice rumbled in the back of your mind. “Why did you have to be so stubborn?”

“This is my forest, too,” you said after a long moment, fingers digging into the dusty material of your pants. “What’s wrong with it? What happened?”

The Wolf stared at you, quiet and considering. And then it lumbered to its feet with a defeated sort of slouch.

“Come, then, Little Red One,” it huffed, and swished its tail against your back. “I’ll show you.”

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Twst Fantasy AU #Jack Howl x Reader #Jack Howl x Yuu #Hellhound!Jack Howl #Familiar!Jack Howl #Patron!Vil Schoenheit #vil schoenheit #Jack Howl #Monster Mayhem Jack Part 1

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dulltoned · 1 year ago

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Branch knew that his brothers would have to leave. He'd be stupid to think that they could stay forever. They had their own lives to live and homes that they made for themselves, they couldn't just leave that behind and Branch didn't want them to. That didn't mean he wanted them to leave. He knows that they never had any plans to stick around, they'd made that clear to him, but he wasn't ready to say goodbye.

It's worse when it looks like they plan to try to be a family together. Without him.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Branch tried. He tried really hard to keep his brothers at arm's length while they were trying to figure out how to stay in each other's lives but, no matter what he did, they still managed to worm their way past his defenses. He really liked having them around. It was still awkward and sometimes they got on his nerves but when Clay caught up with him on his morning patrols, or he woke up to find Bruce had made breakfast, he felt a soft happiness bloom in his chest that he was quickly growing addicted to. It was unfamiliar in the best way and he'd tried so hard to keep these attachments from growing because he knew that they couldn't last. Good things come to an end, and Branch had spent too long waiting for the worst just to stop now. He knew that this little bubble would pop and he wanted to keep his heart sheltered from the inevitable disappointment.

It's already been a week since they'd brought Floyd back to Pop Village and Branch knew this couldn't last much longer. They all had lives to live and goals to accomplish. He doesn’t know why they were fooling themselves into thinking their family could just knit itself back together. They'd already made it painfully clear to him that being a family again had never been their end goal anyway. That's what he gets for letting himself hope. He should have known better but Poppy's endless optimism seemed to be rubbing off on him. Hell, Bruce has an entire other family to get back to! There's no way that he had room in his life for a grumpy little brother. Halfway through the week, they stopped trying to include him in their conversations planning the future anyway and that had been the first sign. At least the first sign that couldn't be explained away by his overthinking.

"Hey," Branch glances up from his place nestled against the trunk of a tree to see Poppy's pretty face. "What's on your mind?" She asks, expression open and soft with a concerned little furrow between her brows. She lowers herself quietly down beside him and cuddles herself immediately against his side with a content sigh.

Branch chuckles and lets his head fall gently on top of hers. He already feels a bit lighter with her here and the worry feels just a bit farther away. "Just thinking," He lets his gaze wander out into the village in front of them, watching the daily hustle and bustle of the merry trolls fill the streets with a life that he used to resent. He remembers when he used to despise how bright and joyful Pop Village is, and even though it was barely a few years ago now it felt like a lifetime. His life has changed so much since he'd ventured to Bergen Town with Poppy that first time but some things have stayed the same. He's still a lot duller than the other trolls, and he doesn't think he'll ever be without the paranoia that lingers just beneath his skin, but he's happy in a way that he hasn't been since he was just a kid.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Poppy presses after a few beats of silence. He thinks that she's soaking in the sights of the village too, basking in the joy of her people. She's done an amazing job as Queen and he's sure she'll only continue to shape the future of all trollkind with her compassion.

Branch sighs, sagging further into her, "No." He doesn't. He isn't even sure where he'd start and he doesn't want to know what Poppy would say. This past week he's felt like he's gotten closer to his brothers than he ever has before while simultaneously being an outsider looking in. It's like he has a front-row seat to what his family could be and the closer he gets to the inevitable end the more it tears him apart. He'd forgotten how much he wanted this until he was waiting for it to be taken away from him again.

"Okay," Poppy agrees with no small amount of hesitation. Branch is glad that she isn't going to pry right now but he's smart enough to know that it won't last. Poppy isn't good at staying away from things she thinks she can fix. It's why she stuck with him for so long. He was grateful for it then but it only amplifies his dread now. It's strange how many things can be a double-edged sword. "Do you want to spend the rest of the day people-watching?" It's an offer to sit with him for as long as he needs. He smiles even though she can't see it.

"No," He carefully detaches himself from her and stands with a big stretch. He's been curled up against this tree for a few hours now he thinks. It's about time he gets up and faces the music. He turns back to Poppy and offers her a paw up, pulling her to her feet with ease when her hand slips confidently into his. "Maybe we could get lunch?" He suggests instead.

"I'd love that," An adoring smile spreads across Poppy's face and Branch's heart melts at the sight. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to her looking at him like that but he doesn't mind the way it makes his heart race and his cheeks warm. She pulls him along by their hands still clasped together and he follows after her without hesitation. He's learned time and time again that he'd follow her anywhere.

It's still strange to filter easily into the busy pathways. No one sends him weird looks or whispers conspiratorially behind his back. He just slots as easily into place as Poppy does, just another troll in Pop Village with somewhere to be. Poppy clearly has a place in mind so he doesn't mind letting her lead the way, watching the scenery change from the dense collection of pods to the stalls and storefronts of the marketplace. Poppy makes a beeline for a cute little stall off to the side. It has an off-white awning decorated with pink hearts and yellow stars and Branch can immediately understand why his girlfriend is drawn to it. It has a few round tables for outside seating with closed parasols matching the stall secured to each one. It's adorable. Poppy immediately bounces up to the stall and drags Branch along with her. He sends her an amused glance, "You come here often?" he teases fondly.

"Of course!" Poppy beams back at him, eyes shining. She gestures to the stall with her free hand, "I mean look at this place, it's so cute. And they have the best little sponge cakes, like, ever." She points to the small chalkboard menu propped up beside the stall and Branch skims it over. It's mostly overly sweet pastries and cakes but Branch sees a few muffins that sound pretty good near the bottom.

He shrugs as the stall worker greets them. They're a lilac glitter troll with periwinkle hair and a white apron that reads Honey's in swirling gold script across the chest. "Sounds good to me," he agrees easily, watching with a soft smile as Poppy squeals. The glitter troll doesn't react much beyond a happy smile of their own but Branch supposes that most Pop Trolls are probably used to Poppy's antics, and if she frequents this place they must hear this all the time.

"Okay, okay," Poppy reads over the menu in a millisecond before looking up to address the worker with a bright wave, "Hi Lavender. Could I get two of the mini jam sponge cakes and a pink lemonade please?" She orders kindly, watching as Lavender jots down the order before they both turn to Branch expectantly.

Branch glances over the menu one last time to make sure nothing else catches his eye before ordering. "I'll take the sour cherry muffin and an iced chai if you can." Lavender writes down his order with a swift assurance that it'd be no problem at all before turning around to start fixing up their drinks. Branch can see why Poppy likes this place so much. It's cozy and easy but filled with an obvious love and care that would draw her in immediately. It makes him like it that much more.

Poppy swings their hands between them in wide arcs while they wait. Branch sends her an annoyed scowl but she just grins back and keeps swinging. She knows that if he was really bothered he'd just pull away and she takes full advantage of that. He rolls his eyes but doesn't try to stop her. He'd never try to stop her, not when her excitement was this innocent and this pure. She's happy and it warms his heart and fills his stomach with butterflies and it's nice. He can allow them both something nice.

It's only a few minutes before Lavender is pushing their drinks across the stall counter and just a few more seconds before they're placing little plates with their food next to the cups. Branch finally pulls his hand back to trade a few bags of tea for the goods while Poppy grabs their drinks with a cheery thank you. Lavender thanks him greatly for the new blend to try, even raising the cloth bag to their nose to sniff the loose leaves, and he offers them a soft nod in kind while he gathers up the plates. It's such an easy interaction but Branch can get thrown off by the unending kindness sometimes.

"Where do you wanna sit?" Poppy asks, still bouncing on the balls of her feet as her excitement grows. He loves how her energy seeps out. Poppy is constantly moving. Always rocking back on her heels or bouncing in place or dancing through town with a hum caught on her breath. She's so bright. She's always managed to light up Branch's dull life and ever since she became a real part of it he's only gotten brighter with each day that passes.

Branch glances at the three empty tables before looking back at Poppy, unimpressed, "They're all the exact same." He monotones. While he adores her he can admit that sometimes she can still be too much for him. They're very different trolls but something about them just works. He's amazed that they can slot so nicely together but he wouldn't trade what he has with her for anything. She's always believed in him in a way that no one else has and he couldn't imagine what he'd do without her.

Poppy pouts, "Branch," She whines, gesturing to the empty tables with their drinks. "You have to pick. If you don't pick we're sitting on the ground." There's a sparkle in her eye that tells Branch she's just pushing his buttons but that doesn't mean she's not serious. She may be a pest but he knows well that she takes that role to heart.

Branch groans and moves towards the closest table before she can spot the smile trying to take over his face. He sets their plates down carefully, settling the two sponge cakes in front of one seat while placing the muffin in front of the other. Poppy easily plops their respective drinks down and dramatically pulls out Branch's chair before he can do it himself. He raises an eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yep!" Poppy chirps, wiggling the chair at him expectantly. With another dramatic roll of his eyes he sits down and chuckles warmly when she briefly struggles to push the chair back in. "I got it, don't laugh." She huffs but she does scoot the chair in with a little extra force.

"I would never," Branch promises. He's lying out his teeth and they both know it but Poppy doesn't acknowledge it outside of a quick glare she shoots his way. He waits for her to get comfortable and pick up a fork before he even looks down at his own snack. The muffin is a nice brown with little dots of dark red scattered throughout the bread, the top glistening slightly with what Branch could only assume was a light glaze. It looks good enough so he delicately peels off a piece of the top and pops it into his mouth.

Oh, wow. It's actually really good. The glaze isn't too sweet and it balances out the tartness of the cherries really well. The bread itself is moist and dense. He feels a little bad for being so surprised. Poppy smirks at him from across the table, "I know, right?" She nods, already halfway through the first cake. It's a round little thing layered delicately with cake, jam, and what looks like a cream of some sort. There are even a few fresh berries nestled on the top. "Honey's is really good. Most trolls walk right by it but I love it here." Branch can understand why as he picks off another bite of his muffin and savors the flavor. When he takes a sip of the chai to wash it down he's equally impressed, a soft hum of satisfaction slipping out before he could even think about it. Poppy's eyes widen at the clear praise and she reaches out with both hands, "Oo, I haven't had their chai yet, lemme try." She makes a little grabby motion with her paws and Branch can't help but comply. Her face absolutely lights up when she takes a sip and his heart melts.

"Oh, hey," A voice cuts through the moment and Branch looks over to see his brothers a few yards away. Anxiety claws its way to the front of his mind at the sight of all of them together and he hates that his own insecurities are ruining such a sweet atmosphere. Suddenly the muffin doesn't taste quite so sweet. Floyd offers a soft wave when his brothers get a little closer and Branch returns it on autopilot. "Are we interrupting a date? We can come back later." Bruce looks between Branch and Poppy sympathetically. If anyone understood the importance of an uninterrupted date it was Bruce if his stories about his children were anything to go by.

"No, no, of course not! We're just getting lunch." Poppy assures before Branch can come up with some plausible excuse. He's glad to share a few more moments with them before they all leave but there's a pit suddenly growing in his stomach that easily overshadows that.

"Oo, what'd you get?" John Dory leans in, quickly invading Branch's space and nearly knocking him over in an unnecessary rush to get a closer look at his plate. John laughs at Branch's disgruntled complaints and leans back, ruffling Branch's hair in the same motion. Branch growls and pushes his brother away with a sharp glare but John Dory only smiles back and raises his hands in mock surrender. John seemed to get great pleasure in mapping out Branch's boundaries through trial and error but when Branch tells him to quit it the eldest insists that it's an older brother thing.

Poppy sends Branch a quick glance to gauge where he's at before looking back at his brothers with a welcoming smile, "What brings you guys out here?" She asks, munching curiously on the remnants of her first cake while she looks between each brother with searching eyes. Her curiosity was a thing to be reckoned with.

"Well," Clay starts, straightening up and looking proud, "We think we've finally gotten everything all figured out. When it comes to sticking around, ya know?" He explains with a satisfied grin. The details had been Clay's favorite part from the bits and pieces that Branch caught around the bunker. He tried not to mind that his brothers only talked about how they'd keep in touch when he wasn't around but, even if it wasn't something he was a part of, he would have been more than happy to help them figure everything out.

"Oh, that's great!" Poppy throws her hands up, her smile becoming impossibly brighter when faced with the success of the people she cares for. She didn't know his brothers well but Poppy assured Branch that the people who were important to him would always be important to her too. That meant the full nine yards when it came to the Queen of Pop. She's even squeezed in one-on-one time with each of his brothers during the measly week they've been in Pop Village.

"Yeah, it took some time but I think we've managed to work it out," Floyd nods, clearly pleased but also fondly exasperated by his brothers' antics. He looks over at Branch's drink curiously and sends Branch a curious look in silent question. Branch shrugs and picks up the cup, holding it out to Floyd. "We still want to have plenty of time to live our lives but after everything," Floyd pauses, managing to look both sheepish and haunted. He takes the cup with a small smile, "Well, after everything it'd be nice to see each other a little more. So every couple of months we figured we could meet up for a while." Floyd takes a small sip of the chai and his eyes widen in silent surprise. He takes one more drink before passing it back to Branch with a soft thank you.

"Yeah, we've got a whole rotation figured out. Vacay Island is plenty big enough to house everyone and then I can introduce you all to the kids." Bruce looked so impossibly happy at the idea and Branch couldn't help but share the sentiment. He was overjoyed for his brother when he first heard that he had a family of his own, all undercurrents of bitterness chased away by just how content Bruce seemed to be. He thinks, maybe, he might want to get to know his niece and nephews at some point if he'd be allowed.

"And the Putt Putt Trolls have more than enough extra space in the Course, we could take in a few more trolls any time." Clay crosses his arms, nodding once, somehow managing to look even more accomplished. It wasn't as enticing as Vacay Island but it would be nice to know more about how Clay has been living these past many years. Branch takes a slow drink of his tea and glances between his brothers curiously. He figured they'd been talking about their plans after Pop Village without him but he hadn't expected so much planning to go into how they would spend time together. Without him.

John Dory adjusts his jacket, puffing up the collar with his usual smug aura, "We can even spend a few nights in good ol' Rhonda here and there. Make a camping trip out of it." Poppy might as well have literal stars in her eyes with how she's beaming at his brothers. She's not even the biggest fan of camping but she is a huge fan of campfires and s'mores. Not to mention the fact that Poppy had grown fond of Rhonda on their latest adventure.

Branch is too busy focusing on how no one brought up Pop Village to be excited for them. "That's great," He smiles, trying his best to make it look genuine despite how his stomach was twisting into knots and his eyes were starting to burn. Of course they'd visit each other. Floyd would probably move in with the Putt Putt Trolls or bunk with John Dory and then they'd all get together every few months to catch up. He doesn't know why he's surprised, he figured he would have to say his goodbyes, but somehow it still hurts.

He'd really hoped that maybe after everything they changed their minds. That maybe they could try to give this family thing a shot again, even if it would be hard and complicated work. At the end of the day it looked like they were ready to spend time with each other but not with him. It's been a week of walking into a room only for it to suddenly go quiet and he thinks that maybe in the end it hadn't been his paranoia that made him think they were leaving him out.

"It's not perfect but we can make it work." Floyd's smile is too soft and too kind and it makes the pit in Branch's stomach claw it's way up his sternum. His fingers were starting to become cold and clumsy as his dread grew and his heart thumped a pathetically fast rhythm against his ribs. He had tried so hard not to get attached again but now all he could think about was the impending goodbye he wasn't ready to give. He wanted more time.

Poppy's looking at him now and he can see her smile starting to drop as she realizes that something's wrong. The excitement is visibly bleeding out of her and a calculating expression is swiftly taking its place. It's only there for a brief few moments before she turns a polite smile back to his brothers, "I can't believe I forgot, there's something I'd like to show Branch if you guys wouldn't mind?" She sounds so genuinely apologetic Branch would be more surprised if he wasn't so focused on how tight his chest was getting. He knows this feeling, he's well accustomed to the first signs of a panic attack, but no matter how familiar it's never any less terrifying.

"Oh, no, of course not!" Bruce assures quickly with a wave of his hand. "We can talk more later, obviously. You guys go have fun."

Poppy doesn't even wait for the merry agreement from the others before she's out of her seat. She grabs a few of the available to-go bags from the market stall and easily sweeps the remaining food into them with one quick motion. She practically pulls Branch out of his chair. "Can you grab the drinks, sweetie?" Oh, she's worried. She only ever calls him sweetie when she's worried.

"Yeah, of course," He agrees numbly before grabbing their cups from the table with shaking paws. It's not too noticeable he doesn't think. Maybe he can only tell because he can't help but stare at how the cups tremble almost imperceptibly in his grip.

"It was nice seeing you guys!" Poppy waves happily at his brothers before ushering him away. It takes him a few seconds to realize she's pointing him in the direction of her pod but when he does something small relaxes beneath his ribs. He'll be okay there. He tries not to listen to the cheerful goodbyes of his brothers behind him, cringing away from their farewells like the words themselves could cause physical harm. Poppy ducks in close and tries to meet his eyes with a pinched expression. She doesn't ask if he's okay, she already knows the answer.

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vindicated-truth · 4 months ago

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(Originally written here, inspired by the gifs)

It must be a curse, Dongsik thinks, to be saddled with partners who can't seem to take care of themselves.

He thinks of Jihoon, too, whom Jihwa has once unceremoniously entrusted in his care—he isn't fooled at all that it was Sangbae who made the decision for him to be Dongsik's partner, given how he's caught Jihwa conversing quietly with the Chief one too many times at Jaeyi's when Jihoon was finally inducted as a police officer.

The kid struggled a lot with anxiety and depression, this much Dongsik knows, because he has grown up with Jihoon's fierce and protective sister. And while she is now only too happy to see her little brother finally come out of his shell, the worry that comes part and parcel with being family never really goes away.

Dongsik wonders if it's a curse that these people think of him as family.

He thinks about how Sangbae assigned Lee Sangyeob into his care too, and wonders if Sangbae has a knack for remarkably picking out incompetence in a sea of bottomless options to thrust into Dongsik's responsibility.

Dongsik grips the steering wheel tightly. No, he thinks fiercely, that isn't fair at all.

Jihoon isn't incompetent. He just believes in the good in people far too much.

Sangyeob isn't incompetent. He just sought justice far too recklessly.

Joowon isn't incompetent. He's—

"I'm in pursuit now."

Dongsik has absolutely no idea what brand of lunacy Han Joowon has.

"I'll make sure I don't lose him. I'll stop him no matter what. I'm going to rescue Chief Nam, and no matter who it is, I'm going to catch this jerk. No matter what. I will catch him for sure."

Dongsik doesn't know what it is with partners who burrow themselves inside his ribs to take a piece of his heart and then rip it out of his chest when they willfully run headfirst into danger like this.

“I’m on my way,” Dongsik says in response to the idiot’s impassioned report of pursuit, surprising even himself with how steady his voice sounds. “I’ll hurry. Be careful until I arrive.”

Don't these stupid partners know, Dongsik thinks in despair as he furiously blinks away the way his vision blurs with hot tears pricking the corners of his eyes, that he doesn't have many pieces of his heart left.

He doesn't know how much more he can afford to lose.

“Lieutenant Han,” Dongsik can barely keep his voice from cracking as the silence stretches on because the idiot doesn’t think it’s unsafe for Dongsik’s erratically beating heart to not answer him. “Do you hear me? Respond,” Dongsik demands, not caring anymore when the cracks of his heart seeps into the trembling of his mouth, the shaking of his hands on the steering wheel. “You need to be careful.”

Dongsik’s breath catches in his throat, making the words stick to the roof his mouth, and he inhales sharply, ready to go on another tirade—when Joowon’s staticky voice rumbles through the speakerphone.

“All right. I'll be waiting.”

And Dongsik furiously swipes at the salty wetness on his cheeks then, because he needs to be able to see clearly on this godforsaken highway damn it, because he can’t get into an accident now, he can’t be stuck in traffic now, he can’t lose the trail now—

Not when Joowon has promised to wait for him.

Joowon isn’t incompetent, Dongsik thinks as an almost hysterical laughter bubbles up his throat. He simply matches Dongsik's own brand of lunacy perfectly.

Because Han Joowon, it turns out, is the kind of lunatic who listens.

#괴물 #이동식 #한주원 #주원동식 #beyond evil #lee dongsik #han joowon #jwds #lee sangyeob #lee jihoon #my fic

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secretkittywolf · 7 months ago

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House of the Hearth headcannons

headcannons for Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynette & Freminet

Lynette

She has 3 exclusive "modes" that she uses to talk to her family. "Lyney mode" to talk with Lyney. "Father mode" to talk with Arlecchino & "Freminet mode" to talk with Freminet.

She only uses these modes when she's with them and they're alone because these modes allow the family to unwind and be themselves and not have to worry about appearances.

She also has notebooks that she uses to write about the things that they tell her so if it's brought up again in conversation, she knows what they're on about and it's helpful if they ask her a question regarding it.

Lyney

When Lynette enters "Lyney mode" he can freely talk about anything and everything. He knows that Lynette can keep a secret so he can talk about more private and personal stuff and knows that she can keep quiet about it.

He loses that confident personality and he becomes more quiet and sometimes more bubbly. He may talk about children who sees his performances and gets excited whenever they ask for more.

He becomes quiet when it comes to more personal stuff. Performances draining him, nervous about upcoming shows, the prophecy coming true in Fontaine. She does say she'll let "Father" know if it's regarding his health and wellbeing.

Arlecchino

Despite how she seems, she's actually a really sweet "Father". When Lynette enters "Father mode" she becomes more caring and considerate about her daughter and asks her questions . "Are you feeling okay Lynette?" "Is being Lyney's assistant alright for you? It's not too draining is it? I could always ask another child to be his assistant"

Lynette enjoys these a lot since it shows a more fatherly side to The Knave. She won't tell anyone but she loves it when "Father" rants about all sorts. Lynette likes watching her mannerisms, hand gestures, facial expressions, since it's interesting to her.

"That Furina... *deeply sighs* I cannot stand her as an archon! She acts too much like a little kid and it's like she doesn't know how serious this prophecy is. Seriously? Why isn't Neuvillette the archon? He would certainly do a better job. She's such a child! Tea parties over actual planning? No offence to the actual "child" archon Buer, but from what Dottore said, she acts like a true archon, even taking the responsibility as one after being imprisoned for 500 years!"

Arlecchino does act fatherly to her other kids too, especially the younger ones, but these private conversations with Lynette really help her unwind.

Freminet

When Lynette goes "Freminet mode" he sits down, loudly groans and starts discussing. He may seem like a shy, quiet kid but with Lynette, he's a sassy, snarky lil shit. Freminet loves gossiping. Because he's so quiet, people always pour out their problems onto him and he gossips with Lynette about it.

"Did you hear about Caron? Apparently, he and his brother have had a dispute for years over something so stupid! I mean really? Those two should act like the adults that they are and stop acting like children"

Freminet and Lynette enjoy talking with each other since it allows both of them to unwind. "Father" walked in on one of their conversations regarding Lyney and she simply closed the door, sat down and listened, occasionally giving her input.

"Lyney needs to stop treating me like I'm still a little kid. I have talked with him about it but he doesn't listen! I swear, next time he treats me like I'm a child, I may slap some sense into him. Literally"

Just some lil headcannons regarding these four!

#genshin impact #genshinimpact #the knave #arlecchino #arlechinno genshin #house of the hearth #freminet #lyney #lyney and lynette #lynette #genshin #genshin headcanons

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nellie-elizabeth · 6 months ago

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Doctor Who: Dot and Bubble (14x05)

Wow, holy shit. This season keeps getting better and better.

Cons:

I really only have one tiny complaint, and it's that I wish the walking thing had been done a little differently? I think, allegorically, the idea that they all need arrows and instruction to be able to walk around when they have their bubbles up all the time is a good idea. Like, often when I'm driving somewhere I should know how to get to on my own, I still pull up the map on my phone just as an extra sense of security, or because I never bothered to fully memorize which side street to turn down or what have you. So it makes sense on that level. But the part where Lindy is literally running into poles and desks and stuff read as a little too ridiculous. I wish it had been a little less literal? Like what if instead of running into stuff, it's that Lindy is overwhelmed by the variety of things she's looking at around her, constantly distracted and overwhelmed, and she needs to mutter instructions to herself in order to force herself to walk, and she still takes the sharp 90 degree turns everywhere because that's what she's used to. And then when faced with a monster right in front of her that's blocking her most natural path towards the exit, she freezes up and can't figure out how to make herself find an alternative route right away. That would work better than the scene where she's literally just running into a pole multiple times.

Pros:

But honestly! What a fucking stunning episode, with one of the best... I guess you could say, "twists", of any Doctor Who episode I can ever remember seeing. I'm not talking about the computers turning on the citizens of Finetime, I'm not talking about the home-world being taken over and not coming back to save everyone. I'm talking about Lindy and the others rejecting the Doctor's help at the end of the episode. That scene is an all time classic, instantly, I just know it.

But first let's back up and talk about Lindy as a character. I think this episode hinges on the way she toes the line the whole episode - you don't understand at first if Lindy is an example of her society, the same as everyone else, or if there's something special about her. Is she an exception to some rule, or just a coincidental POV character? She's terrified, but she tries her best - I was moved by the moments when she realizes how truly helpless she is without the bubble and cries out "I'm so stupid!" You feel a certain sense of connection with her utter helplessness and fear. She's so coddled, so trapped in her bubble, literally, that everything new and scary seems hostile to her.

So... she can be forgiven for not instantly trusting the Doctor and Ruby, right? Right? I mean, they're strangers who came out of nowhere, and she has no idea what's going on. She's just a girl in a socially dystopian scenario where everyone's so addicted to their phones that they've shut out the rest of the world, and she needs help!

That's layer one to what's going on here.

But underneath that layer, you start to notice other things pretty early on. We learn about Finetime, we learn that it's a place that only the most elite people send their children to work. We learn eventually that the very computer program running their lives has started to get sick of them and has decided to exterminate them due to the... inanity, the intolerable repetitiveness, of their pointless, vapid lives. This isn't a situation where everyone in the world is like these people. This is a situation where the wealthiest and most privileged have literally cut themselves off from experiencing anything outside of what they know, and it's a look at the reinforcement of certain beliefs that exist in that society, due to the extreme level of shelter these people are subjected to.

The way that privilege operates within the episode is also subtly and effectively condemnatory to the viewer, or at least to this viewer, in a way that really worked. I did note the whiteness of this world, specifically the white, blonde, stereotypically attractive, thin, able-bodied woman serving as our protagonist. She seemed to represent a type of person; she stands in for a type of ignorance and privilege that we recognize in our own world. But when that moment came at the end where Lindy and the other survivors reject the Doctor's help? You bet your ass I was scouring the background of the scene, searching for any people of color in the shot. I didn't find any. And yeah, it hadn't occurred to me that all the faces we see in Lindy's friend group, all the people we see in this whole world, were white - a white majority is burned into our brains as a default, it's what I, a white person myself, am accustomed to seeing on the screen.

I think the reason the scene at the end is going to stick in people's heads is because it's not a metaphorical bigotry the Doctor suffers in this moment. It's actual, it's in your face. These people aren't "symbolically" bigoted of the Doctor's otherness, they're literally just racists. They're fucking racists. And Lindy never was special - she only lasted as long as she did because her last name starts with a letter later on in the alphabet. She is utterly typical of the people in this world, and this world is a world of white supremacy, and that's all there is to it.

Ncuti Gatwa's performance of outrage and grief was absolutely stunning. I saw one reviewer talk about how it makes sense that the Doctor being Black hasn't been addressed on screen yet, as it would be a pretty wretched look for the show to cast this actor in the role and then have the character immediately suffer racism because of it. But at the same time, it should be addressed in some way, and here's the way in which it finally is. I was also moved by Ruby's silent grief. For the treatment of her friend, but also for the way in which something so evil and stupid and pointless is going to result in all these young people probably dying in the forest, all because they couldn't look past their ingrained prejudices to accept help from someone they deemed their inferior. Gatwa screams and laughs and it's clear that he's feeling so many things, such helplessness and bewilderment and frustration. I don't know how much the show will go into this, but it would be so interesting to have the character reflect on this moment where he realizes something completely arbitrary and out of his control actually has an impact on his ability to do his job well. The character has been a white man a bunch of times in a row, then a white woman, and now a Black man. The mind fuck of having direct evidence of how the world's prejudices work in all ways big and small... what an interesting avenue for the show to explore.

I should also bring up Ricky September, legend, gone too soon from this world, shoulda joined the Doctor and Ruby in the TARDIS and had a threesome with them, tbh. I love what this character represents. At first, he seems like the ultimate symbol of this vapid, image-obsessed, bubbled society, as he's shown mugging the camera singing twinkly little songs and being a sex object for his followers. But then we meet him, and he's a genuinely nice, thoughtful person who does his best to help Lindy. We learn that it's possible to live a life using the bubble for work and then logging off, learning more about the world through history instead of constantly partying and getting caught up in the moment. This story isn't really one about "kids these days on their phones with the TikToks and the blah blah blah." It's more about being entrenched in a loop, stuck with your head in the sand. And Ricky is someone who proves that there is a way to operate outside of that system. He's not necessarily a paragon of anti-racist virtue, but he's a dude who at least has taken some steps to push back against that automatic entrenchment, proving that such a thing can be done, even given the social pressures to sink into the reinforced bubble of prejudice. I also loved Ruby and the Doctor both having a crush on him.

And I love how his character winds up, a turning point where we're starting to realize that Lindy might not actually be redeemable as someone we need to be rooting for. Her sacrifice of her celebrity crush to the killer Dot was brutal, and it feels like such a good appetizer for the final scene of the episode, as the twist comes fully into play.

I think that without that final reveal at the end, this would still have been a good episode of Doctor Who. But with it, it's an all-time great episode. God, I already feel like I want to do a re-watch just to catch more of the build to that moment. I hope that next week we get more time with the Doctor, as we've had two Doctor-lite episodes in a row. But seriously - this season just keeps getting better and better as it goes.

10/10

#review #doctor who #doctor who review #dot and bubble

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cheegu3 · 7 months ago

Note

Heloo may I request a enhypen reaction when y/n killed themselves and left a note saying "this is all your fault"

Sorry if this makes you uncomfy

oh not at all, I was only on the fence about writing this bc idk if talking about this topic is allowed on tumblr, but I hope u didn’t feel a lot of anxiety when sending in this ask 😭 it is a little short so sorry abt that :c some of the notes are a bit different too to switch it up!

tw / trigger warning: yandere, dark themes, depression, suicide, self-harm, sad asf, cursing, violence, blood, suicide-note, vomiting, gun

pls do not read if this triggers or offends you or if you're struggling !!

Yandere!Enhypen - reaction to you unaliving yourself

Jungwon

He didn't know how to react when he found you dead. No tears fell down his face as he looked for a pulse, clutching your cold hand in his.

When he spotted a note lying a few meters away, a heavy sigh left his lips and he gave you a pained look.

' This is all because of you. If only you'd treated me like a normal boyfriend would, maybe we could've been soulmates. I hope you feel pain for the rest of your life. '

The more Jungwon stared at the note, blaming him for all of your pain and problems; the more he felt like he had to fight to hold back the tears that were itching to fall.

At the same time, he found a strange anger bubbling inside of him. Not only did you - the love of his life, leave him in this way but you had to wish him pain in your last breath too?

He became blinded by anger. The hand that was holding the note clenched and the paper crumbled under it.

He will try to stay alive just to spite you. Trying his best to move on and get happy, maybe fall in love again and find a family just so he could get his revenge; as you watched from above and realized you meant nothing to him.

But Jungwon never got over you, not really.

Heeseung

He got angry immediately, cussing you out and almost getting the urge to hit you. Instead, he took his anger out on a mirror and felt some sense of relief when he started to bleed.

He blamed himself of course. He had been wrong about how you were feeling, even though he often prided himself on having been able to read you like an open book.

He didn't notice your spark slowly dying out; the more he got angry the more he got jealous, and then the more you were punished for the smallest things.

It got to a point where you couldn't even live in the moment and enjoy the short times when he was a sweet boyfriend again, because you were always scared of what would tick him off a few seconds later.

' I'm sorry, Hee. I was so tired of fighting. I love you,

y/n. '

His vision blurred as tears filled his eyes. He could only manage to hold them back for a few seconds before he doubled over and sobbed loudly.

The room filled with loud wails of pain that would even make angels cry. Anyone that heard it would know just how much he loved you.

Heeseung clutched his chest right where his aching heart felt like it was being ripped out of him. '' I'm sorry, I'm so sorry baby, '' he kept whispering until he was tired of crying for hours and it turned into shaky murmurs.

He fell asleep, hoping it would be eternal, with your body in his arms; dried tears on his cheeks being replaced by new ones, as even in his sleep he couldn't escape seeing his lover.

Jay

It was the worst phone call he had ever received. He didn't know how to react after it ended, only staring blankly into the distance as his thoughts went crazy.

He needed to see you with his own eyes to believe it so he rushed home. His stomach sank when he spotted the ambulance. Quickly he pushed through the people to get to you.

But when he reached you and saw your lifeless body on the stretcher, he didn't know what to do yet again. A stupid voice inside him told him he should keep his cool in front of all the spectators, even while the love of his life lay dead in front of him.

Did he want to cry, scream, or hold you?

He lowered his eyes to get the image of you like that out of his head. Still in shock, he went inside, locked the doors, and shut the windows' blinds.

He stayed like that for days; barely eating, seeing the sun, or getting out of bed. No matter how bad his depression got and how the light at the end of the tunnel seemed to get further and further away, he still refused to cry.

There was a reason. Your note.

He had seen it while cleaning his house that day he got home. Not wanting to let his thoughts get to him, he started sterilizing and cleaning the whole house. When he then got to the bedroom, a small green note poked out underneath the bed.

He crouched and was about to throw it away until he turned it over and read the first and only line.

' this is all your fault '

And after that, he'd never be the same man again. Most days he wondered if he was even human anymore, he didn't feel anything.

Jake

'' Y/n! I'm home. ''

Jake's face scrunched up as he pouted when you didn't come running to him like usual. Something felt wrong, a bad feeling brewed in his stomach, growing in size the more he moved around in his apartment.

He went further in, peeking around the corners but not calling out for you anymore. It felt better to explain the bad feeling by thinking you were doing something you weren't supposed to, rather than you being hurt; so he moved quietly so he could catch you in the act.

Inside the office, you were nowhere to be found. He guessed you had snuck in there to write to your loved ones or maybe snoop through his stuff. Defeatedly he sighed and moved on, eyes getting caught by the door to the bedroom being slightly open.

Jake stopped in his step and turned back.

'' Y/n? Are you in there? Come out please, I just want to talk, '' he tried, his voice coming out a lot more whiny and desperate than he'd planned.

But he got no response except for silence. His worry grew. One deep breath later he pushed the door open before he could change his mind.

It slowly creaked open, revealing the room little by little. He fell to his knees and gasped.

You were lying in a pool of blood. At first, he felt a surge of anger - who could've done this to you? Then, his attention drifted to the small folded note next to you, and his heart sank.

'' No, please don't say...'' he trailed off, hurrying to unwrap the paper with so much panic that he almost ripped it.

' I wanted to meet my friend one last time, that's all I asked for, but like always it was about what you wanted. We both know that this was all your fault. '

Overcome with despair and grief it wouldn't take long for Jake to join you. He couldn't stand being apart, and he'd find you wherever you were, even in death.

Sunghoon

He felt very angry at you, not himself. Yes, he had dared you to do it while the two of you were in the middle of a screaming match but he hadn't expected you to actually pick up a gun.

The image of you staring at him, tears in your eyes, and that look on your face, which was the last he'd see of you, would forever be etched in his mind.

He couldn't sleep at night. It was like it was burned into the back of his eyes too.

Once your body fell to the floor with a thud, his eyes widened and his lips parted. He knew you were gone without even having to check your pulse.

'' Do it, '' those were his last words to the one person he loved.

He felt sick suddenly, rushing to the bathroom to throw up everything and then some more.

In that bathroom he stayed for hours, just staring blankly at the tiles on the wall, not saying a word or moving an inch. After the sun started setting outside and the light caught his eyes, he finally got up and went to where he had last left you.

You hadn't moved. Sunghoon crouched down next to you and started digging in your pockets for your phone. Something sharp brushed against his palm.

He took it out and saw that it was a note. Unraveling it, he discovered it was a suicide note you must've written a long time ago. Had you always had it on you? Just in case.

' I hate you '

He clenched his fist around the paper, it broke. '' Weak, '' he whispered under his breath and got up.

It was a coping mechanism to place all the anger on you. God knows what he would've done if he started letting that transfer to himself. But, even the anger couldn't stop him from missing you - every single day.

Sunoo

He would blame himself immensely, not having room to be mad at you at all. All that he felt for you was pity and empathy. He tried putting himself in your shoes for the first time and it was a heartbreak he'd never experienced before.

He went to school that day, so excited to see you, only to feel horror as he pushed through the crowd that had formed curiously and saw your body there.

It felt like slow-motion when the wind made you turn and you made eye contact with him. Whispers spread like wildfire all around him, surrounding him completely.

Sunoo felt confused and scared, his eyes darted around anxiously and he tried slipping out. Someone pushed him back.

'' You did this! ''

His head snapped up. A girl, your friend, was standing on the table overlooking the whole classroom. Her eyes were red from crying and in her hand, she was holding something white.

' I'm sorry to do this here, but it's because of my boyfriend, he's controlling and an obsessive, crazy person. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of him. I'm sorry, I love you '

His world fell apart in an instant. He had no idea you'd been feeling like that, why didn't you tell him? He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair as he came to a realization - you did, and he didn't listen.

He was finally allowed to push through the crowd and run away from the school which he'd never again return to. Tears streamed down his face the whole way home, and they didn't stop even as he reached it.

In his mind, all the ' what if-s ' played. What if he fixed himself and was less obsessive, would you have stayed then? What if he was less jealous, would you have loved him back? What if...what if.

Ni-ki

He tried distracting his mind by both rationalizing it to soften the blow, saying '' we probably weren't made for each other anyway '', and trying to go on dates with other girls.

However, every time he did so, he'd zone out and wish that it was you sitting across from him instead. He started daydreaming which brought a smile to his face until it dropped almost as suddenly as it had come when he heard her voice and realized it wasn't you.

They could never be you.

Suddenly he was angry at them, cursing and telling them to leave him alone and to never text him again.

Deep down he knew he'd never love anyone like you again, and you were actually meant for him; but he hated admitting it and to spare himself from more pain, might never admit it.

That was the thing, you were meant for him. Not anymore; you didn't exist anymore, because of him. He knew that now that his soulmate was gone forever, his bleak days would never be lit up by you again.

Just thinking of that smile, the only one that managed to get through his tough and cold exterior, made him feel like crying or punching something.

He then thought of the note, which he often did, and your body at the morgue because he hadn't come home quick enough to see you, and for that he was grateful; seeing you like that would've driven him to the edge.

The note, the one that read, ' I'm sorry, Riki. I tried, I really did. I love you, -y/n '

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #enha x reader

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