#the thoughts were clearer yesterday

[boynextdoorcoverpoison]

myung jaehyun is absolutely, hands down, the best leader for boynextdoor.

I always stand by the leader of groups being the best leaders for their groups, but it’s definitely a role that they have to grow into and improve constantly on. just like any other position in the group. just like any other thing you do.

that said, until the fanmeeting, I didn’t quite have the words to truly express why I feel so strongly about jaehyun’s role as the boynextdoor leader—especially as I think to a lot of non-onedoor, it can seem a bit confusing or not apparent at first. which mostly comes from jaehyun sitting outside the norm for a leader (particularly in hybe bgs) at least in personality.

jaehyun is loud. that’s like… something well known about him. he’s talkative and playful and despite being shy, he’s definitely the kind of person to enter the room knowing no one and leave with at least 5 new friends. his approach to people is one that feels very open and bright.

for this reason, I do think many people might not first associate him with the leader role. with most groups, the most energetic member is probably not the first considered as “oh yeah that’s the leader”. jaehyun is all the playful and energy-filled that usually comes with the member who the leader needs to keep an eye on the most and eventually has a bunch of youtube compilation videos.

that said, these qualities are exactly why I think he makes such a great leader for boynextdoor. as mentioned in the fanmeeting day 2 ending ments, the members of bonedo are the type of people to put up a straight face and keep their struggles to themselves. as woonhak and they have expressed, an example being woonhak putting on a smile and performing, despite dealing with grief. they’re very much the people to not make their problems someone else’s and to maintain a collected image in front of others.

while I also think jaehyun does this, as most people who are leaders may tend to for the sake of their groups, he’s also very very very unapologetically himself. he feels so much. his tendency to cry being a prime example of that, though not the only. the point is that jaehyun is expressive and open and in this, jaehyun contrasts with his members.

as woonhak has stated before, jaehyun has expressed that it’s okay for him to cry, to need to take a break, to sit this one out. jaehyun in general approaches his members with a lot of care. but overall, the stand out is that I believe jaehyun navigates along the lines of… feelings are meant to be felt. he has no qualms with any emotion being felt the way it occurs to us. yes there are ways to handle them, but ultimately, the feeling—whatever it may be—is there to be felt and expressed.

this is also seen in how he interacts with his members. in his very tactile approach to express the love and care he has for the rest of bonedo. the pride he feels for them. whatever words I’m not able to formulate to describe the whole yeppi exchange between him and sungho in the 3rd comeback show special.

it’s also in his loudness and energy. it’s all about expression. he’s so much, but it only feels that way, in my opinion, because he’s overwhelmingly unafraid and unapologetic of being himself, in a way that the industry might otherwise discourage. he’s not against expressing how he feels and while it likely won’t be the most apparent until later in their careers, I do think he’s the type to speak his mind.

all that said, the point is that these qualities do exist in contrast to his members and thus… encourage them to do the same. maybe not to be speeding around all over the place, but rather to allow themselves the space and time to feel as they do. that they don’t have to keep it all inside to avoid making it other peoples problems. they’re a team, if nothing else. and it’s in jaehyun being so so so much himself, being exactly the person he is, not something specially crafted to fit a particular image, he encourages the other members to be the same.

jaehyun helps to curate a safe space within their group by exhibiting that there’s nothing wrong with being the person they are. to feel whatever they feel. to express when things are going good or bad or somewhere in between. to approach things as they come and take them in stride, even if it’s without prior planning. that if a leader is meant to push a group forward and help them grow, then jaehyun steps up to the plate in that art cannot be made without emotion and so to become better artists, to continue being artists, it’s so important to find the safe spaces of being able to express and feel everything as they should be felt.

this is why I think jaehyun has some of the strongest lyricism currently in the group. it’s why I think he was a powerful force coming into KOZ and bonedo, and sort of the missing piece. he feels so much and he allows himself to feel all of it. in turn, as the leader, it’s something he encourages in the members. it’s leading by example. jaehyun builds a safe space for them to express, by being open himself.

but beyond that, jaehyun being unapologetically himself becomes an unstoppable sort of barrier between the group and outside the group. while not as apparent now, I do think it’ll grow into him being a strong adovcate for each of the members and the group as a whole. the group matters to him. his members matter to him. jaehyun’s never going to act as if they don’t, so long as they do. as such, he’ll put them first. he’ll encourage them and their best interest. he provides space and works to create and maintain that space for them to express themselves and be themselves. it’s what makes jaehyun the best leader for bonedo now, and it’s what will allow him to continue to do so.

[shdysders]

a cold table II

pairing: vada cavell & female reader

summary: in which vada deals with the consequences of actions she barely remembers performing.

word count: 5.9k

author’s note: this is the first imagine i ever actually planned to write a part two for.

You didn't show up to school the next day.

Vada had woken up to a pounding headache and an uneasy feeling in her gut, remnants of last night's reckless decisions swirling in her mind.

The dim light filtering through her curtains had felt like daggers against her eyelids, and she winced as she recalled fragments of the evening—smoke-filled laughter, Mia's playful teasing, and that moment when everything blurred into a haze.

The first thing she did was open up her phone, hoping to find a familiar good morning message from you, like you always sent.

Instead, all she found were old messages from yesterday that she didn't remember receiving.

You had asked where she was, if she was coming home soon, and reminded her that you loved her.

There was also a message from her mother, ordering her to go to school and stating that she didn't care how much fun Vada had the night before.

And the last part threw Vada off guard; her mother didn't know about Mia or that she had spent most of her evenings with her.

What was she getting at?

For a second she just laid there, the pounding in her head mirroring the whirlwind in her thoughts.

Flashes of the night before invaded her mind—giggling with Mia, the thrill of sneaking away, the haze of smoke, and the way everything spun around her.

Each memory felt like a dagger, twisting deeper as the weight of her actions settled heavily on her chest.

What had she been thinking?

She had always prided herself on being honest and loyal, and yet, here she was—betraying you in the worst way possible.

A glance at her phone brought no comfort. The screen flickered to life with your unanswered messages.

where are you?

are you coming home soon?

i love you.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of you, probably worried and upset, wondering why she hadn't answered. The idea made the heaviness in her chest even more suffocating.

She had to talk to you, but what would she even say? How could she explain what had happened without sounding like a fool?

Would you even want to hear her side? How could she make you understand what she barely remembered herself?

But the more she thought about it, the clearer those memories became. Each flashback hit her harder than the last—the laughter, the reckless decisions, and then Mia.

She had crossed a line, one she never thought she'd cross, and now the shame of it burned in her gut. The realization of what she'd done twisted her insides, making her feel sick.

Vada knew she hadn't been the nicest to you lately.

She had pushed you away more times than she could count, snapping at you when you were only trying to help.

But in her mind, you understood. After everything she'd been through, it felt like she had a free pass to be rude, to shut you out whenever the weight of her emotions got too heavy. You were patient, and she thought you'd always stay.

Now, Vada could picture your face in front of her before she even told you. The hurt, the confusion, the way your eyes would search hers for an explanation she didn't have. It made her stomach turn, imagining the disappointment you'd feel once you knew what she'd done.

Vada felt the panic creeping up again, thinking about how she'd have to come clean. How she'd have to tell you something she could barely admit to herself.

With a deep breath, she rolled over and forced herself out of bed, her legs shaky as if the weight of what she'd done was pulling her down.

She had no choice but to face the day, to face what she had done no matter how much she wanted to hide.

Going to school was unavoidable—especially if she had any hope of seeing you. She needed to talk to you, to explain, to somehow piece together the mess she had made.

She didn't know how she would do it, but she had to try. Seeing you was the only way forward, even if it terrified her.

___

As Vada walked into school, the usual hum of morning chatter felt distant, like it was coming from another world she wasn't a part of.

She kept her head down, her feet moving automatically down the familiar halls, but nothing about today felt right. Her nerves were buzzing, a constant reminder of the mess she'd created.

Mia wasn't here. She wouldn't be for a while—her dads had given her the option to switch to online school, something Mia had been all too eager to take. Vada couldn't help but feel a little jealous; Mia got to avoid all of it.

But you weren't there either.

Vada stopped by your locker, her eyes scanning the hallway, hoping to see your familiar face among the crowd. But there was nothing. No sign of you. Anxiety twisted in her chest, tight and unforgiving. You were always here by now. Where were you?

The absence of both you and Mia only made the weight of everything heavier, sinking deeper into her gut. You had to be here somewhere, right? Maybe you were just late... Or maybe you'd heard something. Maybe you didn't want to face her either.

The thought made her stomach churn even more. She'd been holding onto the slim hope that talking to you would help her make sense of what happened, but now, with you gone, all she had were her racing thoughts.

Vada stood there for a moment, frozen. Everything around her moved in a blur, but inside, she was stuck, unsure what to do next.

She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice Nick coming up behind her until he practically jumped into her space.

"Vada!" His voice made her jump, her heart pounding from the suddenness of it. She whipped around to find him grinning, clearly amused by her reaction.

"Fuck," she groaned, clutching her chest, "Could you not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said, holding his hands up, though the smirk on his face said otherwise. "Just thought I'd say hi since, you know, I didn't see you at all yesterday. Figured you were busy."

Vada blinked, her mind still trying to catch up. "Yesterday?" she repeated, her brow furrowing as she tried to recall what he was talking about. She hadn't been at school, sure, but what did that have to do with anything?

Nick nodded, clearly expecting her to pick up on something she wasn't. When she didn't, his expression shifted slightly, and he glanced away like he was trying to think of a way to backtrack.

"Yeah, you know," he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck as he muttered, "Thought you had some plans or something. So, uh, how was... you know, whatever you were up to?"

Vada felt a flicker of confusion, but she brushed it off. There was no way Nick could know she'd been with Mia last night.

Her head was already pounding with everything else, and she wasn't ready to unpack whatever Nick was hinting at.

Vada hesitated, her mind blank. The truth of what she'd actually been doing last night was a tangled mess she wasn't about to dive into with Nick. Not here, not now.

"It was... fine," she said, trying to sound casual, though even she could hear the strain in her voice. Her stomach twisted at the thought of what really happened.

Nick seemed to sense the shift, his smile fading just a little. "You good?"

Vada forced a shrug, not wanting to get into everything. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

Nick gave her a knowing look. "Right. Late night?"

She nodded, not offering much more. "Something like that."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his tone casual but curious. "So... you did have fun?"

At first, Vada didn't catch the weight of his question. She glanced over at him, squinting slightly. "What do you mean?"

Nick blinked, caught off guard. "You know... last night? Thought maybe you were out doing something special."

The confusion on Vada's face was clear now, and Nick quickly backtracked, not wanting to press further. "Ah, forget it. I probably got the wrong idea," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it was nothing."

Vada frowned, her stomach knotting up tighter. What was he talking about?

Her thoughts kept drifting back to you as they began moving through the crowded hallway, her phone in hand, checking for any messages that weren't there. You were always the first to text in the morning, but today, there was nothing.

"Hey, uh," she began, glancing up at Nick, "Do you know where Y/n is? Is she sick or something? She didn't text me."

Nick frowned slightly, his confusion deepening. "Wait, she didn't text you?"

Vada shook her head, pulling her phone out and glancing at the empty screen as if it might somehow change. "Yeah, nothing."

He scratched the back of his head, clearly thrown off. "Weird. I thought you guys were, like, together yesterday."

Vada's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean together?"

Nick hesitated, his eyes flicking between her and the hallway ahead. "I don't know, I just assumed. You guys are always together. Figured she'd be with you or something. Guess I got it wrong."

Vada felt her chest tighten. There was something about the way Nick said it that left her even more uneasy. He didn't seem to be making sense, and the idea that you could've been anywhere near her last night without her remembering hit her like a wave of panic.

"Oh," she muttered, trying to brush it off, "Yeah, no, I haven't seen her."

Nick glanced at her, his confusion lingering, but he didn't press it further. The silence stretched between them as they continued down the hall, but Vada's mind was spinning. If Nick thought you had been with her... then what had she forgotten?

"I wouldn't worry too much. She'll probably show up." Nick added, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah," Vada muttered, but her mind was racing with worry. What if something had happened? Or worse, what if you knew about it? About what she'd done.

Before the class started and the teacher began talking, Vada quickly pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed out a message to you.

sorry i didn't answer yesterday. i'm at school rn though. are you not coming?

She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering over the send button before finally pressing it.

By the time she got home, she found herself curled up on the couch in her family's living room, her phone still in her hand. Throughout the day, she had sent you a few more messages, each one more desperate than the last.

are you sick?

or are you sleeping?

why aren't you answering?

i'm really sorry for not texting you back. please talk to me.

do you want me to come over?

Her fingers hovered over the screen, the guilt gnawing at her. She kept typing out new messages, only to delete them again, unsure of what else she could say. Nothing felt like enough, and the silence on your end was only making things worse.

At first, when you didn't answer in the morning, Vada had convinced herself that you were just asleep, hoping that was the reason for your silence.

But now, with the time creeping closer to four o'clock, that thought wasn't offering much comfort anymore. Her hope was fading fast, replaced by a gnawing pit of anxiety that only seemed to grow with each passing hour.

Finally, she typed out one last message, her heart racing as she pressed send.

have you heard anything?

It was vague, but it was all she could manage. She didn't want to admit the fear that had settled in—fear that you might have heard something about her night with Mia.

She didn't even know from whom you could have possibly heard it, but the thought of you being upset gnawed at her.

The TV flickered to life in the background, the news anchor's voice blending into a monotonous hum as he rambled on about the weather.

Vada barely registered his words; her mind was elsewhere. She had tuned out once the shooting had happened, the memories still raw and haunting.

It wouldn't surprise her if they were still covering it weeks later, discussing the fallout and the victims. The world felt heavy with tragedy, and she couldn't shake the feeling that her own turmoil was just another layer on top of it all.

Amelia was sitting next to her, a little further down the couch but still close enough that Vada could feel her presence.

Surprisingly, Amelia seemed to be paying attention to the news, her eyes fixed on the screen while playing with her hair, probably just trying to figure out what the weather would be like tomorrow so she could plan her outfit.

Every few minutes, though, Amelia would glance over at Vada, a hopeful and excited look crossing her face, like she was waiting for Vada to say something—something she didn't know yet.

Vada could sense the anticipation in her sister, as if Amelia was expecting to be let in on a secret, her eyes practically begging for some kind of revelation. But Vada had nothing to say, nothing to offer.

So when she realized Vada wasn't going to say anything, she couldn't hold it in any longer. Practically bouncing in her seat, a wide grin spread across her face as she blurted out, "Did she give you a gift?"

Her voice was filled with excitement, the kind of eagerness that only Amelia could manage, her tone bright and full of energy.

It was like she couldn't contain her curiosity, and her entire expression lit up with that signature look of hers—one that always made Vada feel like Amelia was living vicariously through her.

Her whole face lit up with a smile, as if she was already imagining the details in her head, too giddy to sit still.

Vada turned to Amelia, her brow furrowing in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to make sense of her sister's words. "What are you talking about?"

Amelia's grin faltered for a moment, her excitement dimming as she sat up straighter, turning fully toward Vada. Her brows lifted, like she was waiting for something to click. "You know, a gift," she repeated slowly, her voice a little more deliberate now, as if she thought Vada was joking or trying to mess with her.

Vada's face remained blank, still not catching on, and Amelia's smile wavered again. She leaned in a little, her expression shifting from playful to confused, the eagerness fading just a bit.

"For your anniversary?" Amelia's voice softened, her tone almost hesitant now, as if she was starting to wonder if she'd gotten it wrong.

Vada blinked, her confusion deepening, and it must've shown on her face because Amelia's smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a puzzled frown.

Amelia's frown deepened, her brows knitting together as she tilted her head slightly, studying Vada's blank expression. "Wait... you guys had that dinner yesterday, right? For your anniversary?"

Vada blinked again, her stomach sinking as she felt a wave of unease wash over her. She could see Amelia searching her face, looking for confirmation, but Vada had no idea what she was talking about.

"Anniversary dinner?" Vada repeated, her voice uncertain, as she tried to piece together what she had clearly missed. Her mind raced, flipping through the events of the past day, but all she could recall was being with Mia.

Vada's heart slammed against her chest, panic creeping in as she grabbed her phone with shaky hands. Her mind raced as she unlocked it, her gaze locking onto the date.

November 23rd.

Her breath hitched. Yesterday.

November 22nd—the date that should've meant everything.

Three years ago, on that day, she had asked you to be her girlfriend. Three years.

Her stomach churned as guilt surged through her, heavy and unrelenting. How could she have forgotten something so important? The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from her lungs. Her thoughts spiraled, tangled in disbelief and regret.

She'd missed your three-year anniversary.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine; you two always found a way to celebrate your love, no matter how many years passed.

It was a tradition that reminded you both of the bond you'd nurtured since the beginning—a promise that, no matter what life threw your way, you'd always have each other.

Her fingers tightened around the phone, warmth creeping to her cheeks as shame took hold. She hadn't just failed to text you back; she'd failed to honor the day that had meant so much to both of you.

With each shallow breath, the weight of her mistake deepened, twisting in her gut like a knot that wouldn't untangle. How could she have been so careless?

When she finally tore her eyes away from her phone and looked back at Amelia, her sister's hopeful expression had dimmed slightly, her confusion evident. But Vada couldn't focus on that now.

Instead her thoughts spiraled back to last night, who she had been with. She could picture the laughter, the warmth of the moment shared with Mia, how effortlessly they had fallen into each other's company. They had talked for hours, their conversation weaving a tapestry of familiarity and intimacy that felt so right during the haze.

But that only deepened the ache in her chest now. The joy of being with someone else, the carefree way they had spent the evening together, felt like a betrayal in the light of what she had neglected with you.

Vada recalled every smile, every touch that had drawn her into that bubble of happiness, yet it was overshadowed by the guilt of not being present for the one person who actually mattered.

How could she have forgotten the significance of that day, when you had been there all along, waiting for her to acknowledge it?

Vada's heart raced as the weight of her realization crashed down on her.

Everything made sense now—the way Nick had been acting at school, the way he'd looked at her with that questioning gaze.

And her mother's text echoed in her mind. "I don't care how much fun you had yesterday." It hit her like a ton of bricks.

She was supposed to come home that night, to be with you. You had planned something special, something to celebrate.

But Vada couldn't remember seeing you when she got home. She couldn't even recall what time she had stumbled through the door.

Had you given up and arrived home before she did? The thought made her stomach twist painfully.

"Oh my God." Her voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper. Panic surged through her, and she jumped to her feet, almost stumbling over the couch in her haste.

Without a second thought, she sprinted into the hall, her mind a blur. She fumbled with her shoes, barely bothering to tie them as she slipped them on. Amelia's voice echoed from the living room, filled with confusion and concern. "Vada! Where are you going?"

But Vada couldn't focus on her question. All she could think about was you, the hurt she had caused, and the urgency to make things right.

The front door swung open, and she bolted outside, her breath coming in sharp gasps as she raced down the path, adrenaline propelling her forward.

Vada ran, her heart pounding in sync with her frantic steps. She barely registered the freezing autumn air cutting through her skin, the chill seeping into her bones as she dashed through the streets in her basketball shorts.

The cold didn't matter; nothing mattered except getting to you.

Each stride felt like an act of desperation, a desperate push against the guilt weighing heavily on her heart.

She knew she had to see you, to face you, to tell you everything. The thought of what she had done loomed over her like a dark cloud—she had slept with someone else, and it had been on your anniversary.

The weight of that betrayal twisted in her gut, and she felt sick with the knowledge that she had shattered something precious between you.

She couldn't go another second without telling you what had happened, without laying bare the truth that had been eating away at her. 

But the second she stood outside your house, knocking on your door with a trembling fist, the weight of her guilt crushed down on her.

When the door swung open, revealing you on the other side—your worn T-shirt clinging to your frame, messy hair catching the light in just the right way—her throat tightened, and she felt like her mouth was sealed shut.

You looked so effortlessly beautiful, as you always did, and the sight of you made her heart ache even more.

The words she had rehearsed over and over vanished from her mind on the way there, replaced by an overwhelming rush of emotion.

All she could do was stare at you, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, the enormity of the moment leaving her frozen in place.

You tried to give her a tired smile as you stood by the door, the familiar warmth of her presence mixing with the cool evening air.

"Hey," you said, your voice gentle yet tinged with exhaustion. But Vada couldn't reply. She just stood there, her eyes wide, taking in the sight of you.

The way your hair fell softly around your face, how your expression shifted from surprise to concern—it all hit her like a tidal wave.

You were her girl, the one she had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

In that moment, everything else faded away—the frigid autumn air, the urgency of her earlier thoughts—all that mattered was you.

Yet, as the silence stretched between you, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Vada trembled, her heart racing as she searched your face, desperate for understanding.

With each passing second, the realization of her mistake clawed at her insides.

The memories of last night flooded back, the laughter, the thrill, and the way she had betrayed you—all of it crashed down like a storm. She felt a lump rise in her throat, and finally, the words slipped out, barely audible. "I'm sorry."

Tears began to pool in her eyes, glimmering like shattered glass in the dim light, each one a testament to the guilt and regret that had been building up inside her.

She wanted to explain, to tell you everything about what happened with Mia, but the truth felt lodged deep within her, impossible to express. All she could do was stand there, shaking, waiting for your response, wishing she could take it all back.

Your eyes searched hers, reflecting confusion and hurt, and she felt her heart break at the sight. The silence hung like a thick fog, and in that moment, she realized just how much she had risked.

The fear of losing you washed over her, and she fought back the tears, wishing more than anything that you could understand how truly sorry she was.

You looked at her, brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry for what?" you asked, but you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Still, you needed her to say it. You wanted to hear the truth come from her lips, to know she was ready to face what she had done.

The silence stretched out between you, charged with unspoken feelings. As she trembled, tears pooling in her eyes, your heart ached for her, for the pain that had driven her to this moment.

You needed her to confront it, to acknowledge the hurt—not just for you, but for herself, too.

So you watched her, waiting for the truth you already knew she was fighting against.

Vada didn't want to tell you. Her mind screamed at her to keep it inside, to bury it somewhere deep where neither of you would have to face it.

But her mouth—the one that always said too much, the one that never knew when to stop—was on the verge of betraying her again.

She shook her head, her hands trembling as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest, trying to hold it all in.

But the words pushed at the back of her throat, her lips quivering as she tried to bite them back. Her thoughts were racing, tumbling over each other.

Don't say it. Don't. You'll lose her. You can't say it.

But the more she tried to keep it in, the harder it got. Vada felt her chest tighten, like there was no room left for her guilt, her shame, or her fear. Her too-big mouth, always moving when it shouldn't, was about to undo her.

"I—" She stammered, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..." She could feel the truth clawing its way out, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop it. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked at you, her heart in her throat.

"I'm sorry I forgot. I wanted to be with you, I swear. I was... I don't know, I just... I don't know what happened." Vada's voice cracked as she rambled, words spilling out before she could stop them.

Her hands shook, and she ran them through her hair, her breathing uneven. "I didn't mean to forget. I don't even know how I did, but I did, and I'm sorry."

She looked at you, her eyes wide with panic, like she was searching for a way to fix something she knew she couldn't. "I should've been with you, I know that. I just... I don't know what happened."

There was no real excuse, and she knew that. She wasn't just talking about forgetting the anniversary anymore, and the weight of that realization pressed down on her chest.

Her words tumbled out in a shaky rush, her breath catching between sentences as she struggled to form coherent thoughts. She looked frantic, her hands tugging at her hair as if trying to pull herself back to the present, back to you.

"I wanted to be with you," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper now, almost like she was pleading with herself as much as with you.

Her gaze flicked from your face to the ground, then back to your eyes, searching for any sign that she could make this right, that somehow she hadn't ruined everything.

But the more she tried to explain, the more lost she seemed to become, her mind spinning in circles she couldn't escape.

Vada's heart thudded loudly in her ears as she braced herself for your reaction, her mind running wild with what was about to happen.

She tried to prepare for the look on your face—the anger, the hurt, maybe even the disgust she thought she deserved. Would you yell? Walk away? She didn't know what was coming, but she felt like she had it coming, something heavy, something unbearable.

Her throat tightened as she tried to continue, the words sticking like they didn't want to come out. Her hands clenched into fists by her sides as she stammered,

"I was with—"

But before she could finish, you interrupted, your voice calm but firm. "I know."

The simple statement stopped her in her tracks. Her breath caught in her chest, and she froze, staring up at you in shock.

Her heart pounded, her mind scrambling for words that wouldn't make things worse, but nothing came.

How could you possibly know?

She had barely been able to admit it to herself, let alone think of how to explain it to you. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, and she felt a knot forming in her stomach, waiting for your answer, dreading it just as much.

"How?" Her lips trembled, and she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from yours.

Confusion and guilt churned in her chest, making her feel even more trapped in this moment she couldn't escape.

Your lips twitched into something that almost resembled a smile, but there was no joy behind it. It was more of a bitter acknowledgment, the kind of smile that comes when things hurt too much to be angry. "You really don't remember?"

Vada's panic surged as the reality of the situation settled in. What did you mean by that? she thought, her mind racing with uncertainty.

Had she really messed up so badly that you knew something she didn't?

Did Mia tell you? Her stomach churned at the thought. She racked her brain, trying to piece together the night before. Had she called you?

Was there something she had said that she couldn't remember? The more she tried to recall, the more her memories slipped through her fingers like sand.

She felt lightheaded, the cold autumn air biting at her skin, but she barely noticed. All she could focus on was the fear that clawed at her insides.

What if you knew everything? She couldn't face that possibility. Her heart raced, and she searched your face desperately for clues, wondering if you were hiding something from her or if you were simply waiting for her to spill the truth.

What do you know? The thought screamed inside her, but she couldn't say it.

Instead, she blinked, her voice barely audible as she stammered, "What... what do you mean?"

You watched her closely, gauging the reaction that flickered across her face. "You were with Mia," you said, your voice steady.

"You guys got drunk, smoked weed, and then you fucked.. I mean, that's what you told me last night, but was there something else?"

Vada's eyes widened in disbelief, the reality of your words crashing over her like a cold wave.

She could hardly breathe, the weight of her actions crashing down upon her. "No... I..." she started, her voice shaky as she tried to piece together the fragments of her memory.

She felt exposed, vulnerable under your gaze, like she was standing naked before you. She knew what she had done, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel more real, more unforgivable.

The fear of what she had lost clawed at her insides, and she felt tears prick at her eyes as she searched for the right words. How could she explain it? How could she make you understand?

Her heart raced as she struggled to form the words, each syllable heavier than the last. "I'm so sorry," she stammered, desperation lacing her voice. "I was drunk... I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I swear, I only want you."

She took a shaky breath, trying to gather herself, but the emotions swirled inside her like a storm.

"You're the one I care about, the one I want to be with. I messed up, and I get that, but please... please don't think that it means I don't love you." Her hands trembled at her sides as she met your eyes, searching for a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos she had created.

"I just... I was caught up in the moment and didn't think about anything else. But you—you're everything to me, and I don't want to lose you." The panic surged through her again, threatening to swallow her whole, and she felt the sting of tears welling up as she awaited your response, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be the end.

You didn't even look mad as you stood there, shifting the weight to your other leg. Your expression calm, almost resigned, as you simply said, “It's fine, Vada."

But it's anything but fine. The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and she felt her heart drop even further. She didn't want you to be fine with it.

She wanted you to react, to feel the same rage and hurt that churned inside her.

Vada wished you would hit her, punch her, push her, or spit in her face—anything but brush it off like it didn't matter.

Your calmness made everything feel worse. But you continued, your voice steady but laced with a sadness that made her stomach twist. "I get that you're going through a lot right now."

But then, the air around her grew heavy as you added, "I just... I think it's best if we spend some time apart."

The finality of your words crashed over her, and Vada felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.

Time seemed to stand still as she processed what you'd just said, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Every part of her screamed for you to reconsider, to understand how much she needs you, but she couldn't find the words.

Panic flooded her senses as she stared at you, her heart racing. "No, please don't say that," she said desperately, wanting to reach out, wanting to beg you not to walk away.

But she felt a heavy weight settle in her chest as she realized there was nothing else she could do. Nothing she could say would change what you wanted. And nothing she could do would change what she'd done.

When you made your mind up about something, it was like hitting a brick wall—there was no going back, no changing your decision. She always admired your resolve, but now that same strength felt suffocating, leaving her totally and utterly powerless.

She watched helplessly as a faint smile crossed your lips, though it didn't reach your eyes. "I'll see you at school, Vada," you said softly, the finality of your words echoing in her mind.

The urge to scream your name was building inside her, to fall to her knees and beg for your forgiveness. Every fiber of her being wanted to cry out, to make you see how much she needed you, how sorry she was.

But for once, her mouth was sealed shut. She couldn't force the words out.

If she tried to speak, she feared she'd either throw up from the overwhelming guilt, or worse—say something that would ruin everything beyond repair. So she stood there, paralyzed, as you offered that faint, distant smile.

Before she could respond, you turned and closed the door, leaving her standing alone on the porch, a whirlwind of emotions crashing around her.

As the door clicked shut, the finality of it echoed in Vada's ears, louder than the pounding in her chest. She stared at the door, half-expecting you to open it again, to tell her you were just angry, that things would be okay. But the silence was deafening, and the cold night air wrapped around her like a vice.

For a moment, she stood there, frozen in place, waiting for something—anything—that wouldn't come.

And then, finally, the weight of it all hit her. Her legs gave out, and she sank onto the porch steps, burying her face in her hands as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. There was nothing she could do now, nothing left to say. You were gone, and she was the one who had driven you away.

Her body shook with sobs, and the world felt emptier than it ever had.

[strawbeelemonade]

ROMANTIC IMAGINE: Miguel O'hara visits you when you call in sick

i know how to write things other then headcannons i swear. theyre just so EASY. you can request actual fics lmao. promise! This was intended as romantic btw, but you can interperate this however you want!

WARNING: descripion of wounds/blood, description of burns, overprotectiveness,

Miguel lands on your balcony with a heavy thump, his landing was a little awkward from trying to swing with only one hand, but he managed well enough. The Tupperware in his hand looked a little worse for wear, though.

Almost every fibre of him wanted to turn around and forget about this, but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to, he needed to know you were ok.

You had called off sick from work yesterday, and you didn't show up today either. In all the time you were working at Alchemex you’ve never done that before. The secretary had told him you sounded like you were in a lot of pain over the phone, so it was obvious you were unwell in some way or another. He’s been worried ever since.

This felt stupid. Over dramatic, even. But he’d gone to his brother for advice, and this is what he had given him: Their moms classic Pozole recipe, The same recipe him and his brother ate while growing up. Obviously Miguel protested, adamantly. he hadn’t cooked for anyone in a very long time. He wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to… His brothers response?

“Do you want my help or not?”

So Miguel scrounged around the kitchen for what he needed. He squinted to read his mothers old chicken scratch from all those years ago. He put in the work, as uncomfortable as he felt, And He packaged it and come all the way here.

And now he didn’t know how to go forward.

He had never felt more out of his element in his life. As he Stood outside your window with the soup in his freakish claws he realised he didn’t know where to go from there. He hadn’t thought further than this point. What would he say when he gave it to you? What would he even do after that?

He had to awkwardly shimmy through the window with the Tupperware in one hand, almost stepping on a cable stretching across the floor. “Fuck—“

the hinges creaking offensively as he pushed down your open window and he cursed, shutting it as delicately as possible. When he heard your voice ring out from behind him he tensed.

“Uh, Hey Miguel!” You call from the bathroom. He breathed out the puff of air he was holding in. No turning back now.

“…Hey,” he called, not knowing where to begin. “…I brought you a little something.”

He makes his way to where he heard your voice coming from, and pauses briefly by your kitchen counter. He looks down at the soup in his hands.

…He could just leave it here, that would be less humiliating for everyone, wouldn’t it? He knew you were ok, now. He heard your voice, so you were alive. He did what he came here to do. He could turn around right now and escape while you were still in the bathroom.

But something stops him. A little smell wafted by his nose briefly. It was brief. It was faint. But it was there and it made him pause.

So he sits the soup on the counter quietly, but he doesn’t turn around. He walks further down the hall and takes a deep breathe. The smell is clearer now. Miguel gets a bad feeling.

He picks up the pace and pulls off his mask to get a better whiff, and suddenly he’s hit with the all too familiar stifling stench of blood.

No.

NO!

“Y/n!” He runs up to your bathroom door and starts rattling the handle, but the door is locked. He pauses when he hears your voice on the other side, clearer and more effective at preventing him from tearing the door off its hinges—.

“D-Don’t come in!” You yell. “I’m... ngh- I’m a bit busy in here!”

“Y/n, what do I smell?!” He doesn’t need you to tell him, He already knows the answer. It’s pungency rings clear from his side of the door. The tanginess was so prominent that even someone with normal senses could pick up on it.

“N-nothing!” You stutter. You always stutter when you’re nervous. And when you're lying.

“Are you bleeding? Where’s it coming from? Open up!” He starts banging on the door again, his fist unintentionally rattling the frame.

“You don’t smell anything- stop that!” You snapped, annoyance ringing clear. But there was a certain strain to your voice, a painful whine that made his heart drop. “I-I’m just, uh- changing! will you give me a minute? Please, Miguel.”

“Don’t lie to me! What’s wrong, can you not get to the door?” He starts backing up to gauge the frame of the door and… Yeah, he could kick that in, easily.

sensing what he was getting ready to do, you spring up from your spot hunched over on the side of the bath tub and amble to the bathroom door. “No no no!” You lean against the door, heaving. “Don’t do anything drastic, I’m right here!”

He paused and waited for you to open it, but your hesitation makes him start losing his patience. “Y/n-“

“I’m ok, Miguel. S-seriously. I just took a little tumble on the way home.” You swallow back a painful grunt as you lean on the door frame for more support. “Look…” you started. “Now’s really not a good time—“

“Y/n.”

You shut your mouth. ‘Oh, shit.’

the tone of his voice hid a warning. Miguel knew what you were going to suggest even before you said it, and he refused to let you finish. The fact that you were bleeding as much as you were for him to smell you across the house, And you were trying to hide it from him? It must be bad, there was no doubt about that. His brain began racing for answers, for explanations, for names. He didn’t know where you were hurt, god what if it was somewhere vital? Who did this to you and where? Why were you trying to hide it? Did they threaten you? Something must of happened. there was no way he would leave you here, No. There was no getting rid of him now.

“Open this door.” He says one final time. And you can tell it’s the final time from the tone of his words. His voice quaked with fury at even the mere insinuation that he’d ever leave you when you were wounded. That you were even wounded In the first place.

“Now.”

...

There’s a beat of silence where neither of you say anything. And for a second he thinks he’s going to have to break the door open inwards just to avoid plowing over you to get it open. But then he hears you apprehensively turn the lock and he almost breaks the handle from how fast he rips it open.

You stumble a bit, reeling at his strength. and then youre taking a tumble from being thrown off balance, but before you can even yelp out a cry he swoops in to catch you in his arms before your body can even comes close to hitting the floor. “Lo si—! Sorry! Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

from being so close he could tell immedietely that you were running warm, did you really have a fever too? He perches you on to the toilet seat and you wince at the ache washing through your body. God, your back was killing you... and Miguel's hands were all over you. you tried pulling your arms out of his grip, but he wasn't budging. he scoured your front for bruises, cuts, anything.

"what happened, where does it hurt, Y/N, please." he lifted your arms, checking your sides. nothing there... You couldn't bring yourself to answer, all the jostling around was making you go really dizzy... so much so that his words seemed to bounce off your ears. you squint at him. were there two of him before?

"Oi, mami/papi. focus for me. tell me where your hurt." he pats your cheek, snapping you a little out of your stupor. you blinked. his faced was pulled taught with worry, lines creased his skin in places that looked almost painful. and his eyes...

"Miguel... hhhave... your eyessschanged?" you weren't sure if it was the delirium from the pain finally setting in, or if your bathroom light just highlighted the underlying hues, but his tired brown eyes had shifted to a shade of... dare you say red.

they flicked back to your face, they had this wild look in them, like he was angry. but his voice wobbled like he was scared. "tell me where the pain is."

"... M' back.." you mumbled. he tugs on your shoulder to twist you around, making you whine. he apologizes quietly, before turning back to the red stains that were crawling up the back of your shirt.

you both descended into a tense silence. Miguel looked cramped, hovering over you in your tiny bathroom. he had to draw in his arms to not knock into your shower. not the most ideal place to play nurse... but he would manage. Miguel unshealthes his talons and cuts open the fabric like its warm butter. all you feel is a cold draft hit your back, and you shudder.

when he gets a good look at the state of your back his heart drops, what he finds isn't what he was expecting. your lower back is marred with an explosion like mass of burned skin. the center of the wound is deeper and more bloody then the rest, like something fast, blunt and burning hot struck you there.

God.

"Y/N, what the hell happened?" he glances at your bathroom bin and spots your old, scorched shirt lying inside. so you really were changing... that explained why the shirt you were wearing didn't have a massive gaping hole in it.

"Lyla. whats the aetiology for this." she flickers into view next to him, screening your back, and she winces.

"the lascerations have been caused by 1st and 2nd degree burns, the wound has become infected and needs to be treated immediately. the depth of the wound is telling me that the collision was hard and fast, likely a projectile."

"they were shot?."

"most likely. not by any normal weapon though, obviously." she confirmed, "it... doesn't look like the infection has interfered with the spinal collum." she optimistically added.

"will it scar?" he tilted his head towards her, but didn't take his eyes off the wound.

the Ai assistant didn't respond, calculating the most nerve settling response to his question. her silence told him everything he needed to know. "yeah, don't answer that." a snarl was building in his throat, fighting its way to the top.

he spots the first aid bag and its contents sprawled across your counter. most of it was over the counter painkillers, light ointments and bandaids. nothing in there that would help you.

"ok." he drags his hand down his face looking around the room. "Hijo de puta-!" his fist banged against the wall in a burst of anger, the pathetic thin walls rattled underneath the force. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?!"

you were stuck in this apartment by yourself, barely able to move or, jesus, even think. the fact that he could have never come… No, that he had come but couldve left here without knowing you were going through this on your own... the thought made him sick. why did you let it get this bad? what had happened?

you don't answer his question, your breathing has started to grow heavier, fevered. the sheen of sweat on the back of your neck had grown thicker as well. miguel reaches out to hold you steady. his mind racing. you can't stay here.

he knows he has to make a call. literally. he lifts his watch to his face.

"Jess, get someone on the medical team to prepare for my arrival." he picks you up carefully and fights to keep his voice from rising, he wasn't thinking clearly. all he could think about was getting you somewhere safe.

it wasn't common for miguel to ask for medical assistance, even at times when he probably should. he didn't like calling for help, he prefered to do things on his own, even to his own detriment. the idea that something could shake miguel up like this, making him ask for assistance, was new. Jessica could hear the tension in his throat as clear as day.

"whats your condition." she responded, concern shining through in her voice.

"no, no. i'm fine." he answered. "i've got an injured with me, they've been shot and need first aid immedietely. its a second degree burn that been left for over 24 hours, its infected."

"...done." she answers. "are they a new recruit?"

"they're a friend."

Pozole: a traditional soup or stew that is made from hominy with meat, you can put in things like shredded lettuce/cabbage, chilli peppers, onions, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa or limes. (this sounds scrummy ngl i'm so hungry bro)

"Lo siento": i'm sorry (this is when he goes "Lo si-" but cuts himself off)

"Oi, mami": hey, Mama (i learned that mami or mamita can be used in a lot of different ways. native spanish speakers can use it to adress parentel figures, friends that give motherly energy, or it can even be used as a funny nickname for kids. i've seen a lot of people use it sexually in fics, but apparently thats not always the case!)

aetiology: kind of like a diagnosis, but different. its the cause of a desease or condition. idk if it's applicable to wounds, though.

"Hijo de puta-!": son of a bitch-!

I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating languages let me know! i'd be really interested.

[just-a-ghost00]

What do they wish they could tell you?

This reading is romantically enclined. If you're wondering about a specific person that you're romantically interested in, whatever your situation may be, this reading is for you. The theme of this reading is Kpop solo artists.

Group 1

Cards : 4 of wands, Nature, Tibetan black quartz - Light up your spiritual path

I wanted to first adress that as I was pulling the cards for you, I felt a bit of warmth radiate through my stomach, around the solar plexus. And immediately this made me think of longing. I got the feeling that for a lot of you this would be a person that you are in a separation with, someone that is currently far from you whether that is by choice or because of external circumstances. The card of the tibetan black quartz mentioned a question that caught my eye straight away. "Could I be even clearer right now?" And this felt like something they would actually want to tell you. "What more do you want me to do? How far do I have to go to prove you that this is real?" This person feels frustrated and hopeless because they think you are not getting their point. That you do not see eye to eye with them. However, they think they have tried everything in their power to get you to understand the extent of their feelings. This person thinks a lot about you. They turn the situation over and over in their head again, to figure out what they've missed, what they could or should have done differently. The nature card made me feel like life circumstances lead you to go on your separate ways, yet this person is still keeping an eye on you and thinking about you consistantly. They cannot forget you. With so many eyes represented on the card and the presence of wings as well as a moon crescent that is placed like a halo, this makes me think that this person feels spiritually connected to you. The current distance between you allows them to consider your connection from a different angle and understand the truth of it all. Even though they may be missing you dearly, they think it's a blessing in disguise. This person wants to tell you that you are their home. With that 4 of wands, I get a strong message of "I want to come home to you".

"I want us to support each other and walk in the same direction. To face the future together, hand in hand, no matter what's ahead of us. I don't want us to fight and sulk all alone in our corner, when we could be together and ruling the world. I want us to write our own story. One we could fondly talk about to our children someday. One we could look back to with sparkle in our eyes as if it were yesterday. I have deeply thought about you, about us. About the change I wanted to see and the future I envisioned. And today, I know that my future is with you. I know that I want you to be around when I wake up in the morning, when I'm feeling down at the end of the day or excited about my success. I want you to be around when I am taking another step towards my goals or when I'm thinking of going back to where I started. I want us to see each other for who we are. No masks, no pretending. Just us, waltzing in the middle of a room like today could disappear and there would be no tomorrow. I love you. That thought has become as clear as the day. As certain as there is a rainbow after the rain. I want you like I have never wanted anyone before. That scared me, I admit it. But now I know. I know what it means and I am in for it. How can I get that feeling across to you? What do I have to do for you to trust me and let me in? Haven't I done enough already? Haven't have told you how much you meant to me? What was I lacking for you to distrust me and walk away? I want you to see me. Not for the person I used to be, not for what people portray me as, but for the person I am when I'm with you and the one I want to be for you. I wish you could see my efforts and my value. That you shared the same vision of the future as me. I miss you. There isn't a single day that I don't think about you. Everything reminds me of you and that is excruciating. To know that you may not feel the same, that maybe you are already in other arms, other sheets. That maybe you don't think of me like I do. That you have moved on and forgotten everything we've been through. When I look at the sky, I think I see your face looking down on me. When I see a star, I wish it were you shining a light on me. I pray to God for your presence. I ask for you to be safe and sound. I ask for you to love me. In my prayers I talk to you and whisper to the wind the words I wish I could whisper into your ear. Do they get to you? Do you feel my embrace anytime you are caught by the wind? Because I do."

Group 2

Cards : Page of swords, The Wildling, Hiddenite - Claim your happy place

First of all, I want to mention that a lot of air related energy is being represented in this spread and there's an emphasis put on swords because the wildling card also has two swords crossing depicted on it. Which reminds me of the 2 of swords card in certain decks. Right off the bat, I got a very combattive energy from these cards and heard "You are mine". "I'm coming for you." It feels like this person may have been very uncertain in the past about you, what you meant to them and what they hoped for. But they recently gained clarity about that and now they wish to communicate without about what they have found out. I also felt like this person is very protective over you and feeling urged to act. As if something happened that triggered this visceral need of being by your side as soon as possible. For some of you, I'm getting the message that your person may have heard that you were being courted by another person. If that is not the case, something may have given them the impression that such a thing was happening. They want to tell you that people better stay away from you because they intend to "claim" you as theirs. I'm getting a message that this person had a dream in which they were losing you, possibly in a tragic way or a dramatic way. And this person thought to themselves " sh*t I didn't see that coming". They want to tell you that now, they know where they stand when it comes to you. They want to be by your side, fighting with you instead of against you.

"I am done resisting the urge to love you with all I have. In the past, I tried to forget you. To ignore what I felt was so obvious. I was stuck in a loop, struggling between my thoughts of you and my fears. I was fighting against myself and in the process I was fighting you. I hurt you, said and did things that lead you to believe I was cold, that I didn't care when in reality you were all I could see. You were in my mind 24/7. I kept imagining things, wondering how we could be together, trying to establish the possibilities I had, making plans in my mind but I got scared and ran away. I am done running. I don't want to lie to you anymore. I don't want to pretend being this cold hearted s.o.b that only thinks about their own satisfaction. I want to be with you. To prove you that you were not wrong. To show you the true essence of who I am. I want to know more about you. To figure out this thing that's between us, understand why it's there, where it's taking us. I just want to talk to you. To know you're okay. That you're safe and sound, that no one has laid a finger on you. If that ever happened, I would be devastated. I look at your pictures and can"t help but wonder who took it. Was there another person behind the camera that loves you more than I do? I'm tired of acting as if nothing happened, of going to work or going on with my day wearing a mask of indifference when all I can think about is having you in my arms. I wish to tell you I am different than what you perceive of me. That I am worth your time and energy. I want to fight for your love and attention, to be worthy of you. I want to prove the world that we make sense. That we go together well. I want to make a statement that will mark you forever and let everyone know that you are off limits."

Group 3

Cards: 4 of wands, Connect to heart, Pyrite - call on your core power

Before doing your reading, as I shuffled the cards, I challened the song Listen to your heart from Roxette. Looking at the lyrics a little, I got the feeling of someone being afraid of missing an opportunity if they ever chose to walk away. It's like this person wants to say "I don't want to make the wrond decision". "I'm afraid of ruining it all if I don't take this seriously." They wish to tell you that they imagine a future with you. That to them, you are more than just a friend or a random person they may have met a few times. That their feelings are stronger than what you may perceive or imagine. They wish to tell you that they would do anything for you. That they feel attracted to you in ways that sometimes surprise them. That they are loyal to you and that their heart is filled with love whenever they think about you. You hold the key to this person's heart. They feel like you are connected through space and time. And even if you may be apart, this person's gaze is always turned towards you, their heart is always open to you, their thoughts are filled with memories of you. They just cannot go away and close the door, no matter how hard they try. Their feelings for you are stronger than any fear they may have regarding the connection. This person wishes to tell you that they want to be by your side through thick and thin.

" I love you. It's as simple as that. There isn't much to say or to argue about. Because deep in your heart, you know this is the truth. Ever since I met you, I have envisioned a future where we stood together hand in hand. I have wanted to be with you and support you, to hold you in my arms and cherish you for the rest of my life. Upon first sight I knew that this was not just a coincidence. That this meant more than our eyes could see and our minds could grasp. I felt immediately close to you and this incessant need to be close to you. I wanted to love you with all I had. I couldn't help but to adore you and worship you. I was like a dog on a leash and if at first I got scared, with time I didn't mind. Because it felt like this was the right thing to do. I always feel you in the corner of my mind. If I close my eyes, I can see you dancing in the room, trying to please me and seduce me. I can picture your body on the floor and the way it moves so naturally against mine. I can see us walking to the altar hand in hand, a smile on our faces, love radiating through our hearts. I can imagine the house we'd have, the family we'd build. The fairytale kind of love I always wished for. I cannot think of anyone else better than you to fit that role. I wouldn't want anyone else, even if that person was a better match. Because I chose you. And I am not going to go back on that decision. I want to make love to you. But everything has its own time, right? Let us not rush. We have all the time in the world to learn about each other and explore this bond that we share. I am sure you feel it too. This isn't an illusion. It is real. And I want you to embrace it just like I intend to do."

[capquinn]

Hey I love your Dad!Quinn writings so much! They’re so cute and fluffy! Maybe you can do one about mom’s bump popping up one morning and Quinn is like mesmerized, realizes that a baby is coming and his life is going to change. But he’s so happy. Only if you want to write this. Have fun in NYC!

The hoodie slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Quinn froze in the doorway, caught in the quiet spell of the moment. His breath stilled, his gaze fixed on you — on the reflection of you in the mirror, framed by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. You were standing there, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, your fingers brushing over it in a way that was both casual and deliberate.

But it wasn’t the same curve he’d kissed goodnight the evening before. This was new, different.

His eyes traced the line of your profile, lingering on the now unmistakable swell of your stomach. It wasn’t just a gentle hint anymore, not the subtle softness he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It was undeniable, defined. A bump.

His bump. His baby.

Quinn’s arms hung at his sides, his hoodie now pooled in the chair behind him as his brain worked to catch up with his eyes. For a long beat, he just stared, unmoving, as the weight of it hit him all at once. His chest tightened, his heart thrumming in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but bigger — something that was overwhelming in its tenderness. Awe, maybe. Or reverence. A sense of this is real that felt too massive for his chest to hold.

He tilted his head slightly, as if looking from a different angle might somehow soften the impact, but it didn’t. If anything, it deepened it.

His gaze dropped to your hand, the way your palm smoothed over the firm swell like it was second nature now. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, slow and shaky, his hands flexing at his sides. There was no mistaking it anymore — this was real. Tangible. The tiny life that had been nothing but whispers and plans and grainy black-and-white ultrasound images was suddenly here, making its presence known.

You glanced up in the mirror, your eyes catching his reflection, and Quinn’s heart twisted. You looked at him like you always did — a soft affection that grounded him — but now there was something else. Something unspoken, something shared. Something that said, can you believe this?

He stepped closer without even realising, the movement automatic, like gravity was pulling him to you. His hand reached out instinctively, tentative at first, brushing against the curve of your belly before settling there fully. His palm was warm, steady, fingers spreading slightly as if to take it all in. The bump was firm, more defined than he’d expected, and the simple touch made everything feel sharper, clearer.

“This is new,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, almost as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment.

“It wasn’t like this yesterday,” you replied softly, your voice carrying the same quiet awe that was written all over your face.

“No,” he agreed, his thumb sweeping in a slow arc along the edge of your belly. “It wasn’t.”

For the first time, it wasn’t just an abstract thought in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just appointments or plans or future names whispered in the dark. It was right here, under his hand. The tiny, growing life you’d made together, tucked safely between the two of you.

His gaze flicked back up to yours, his eyes soft and bright with something unspoken. Pride, maybe, and then his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile.

“That’s… really our baby,” he said, the words tumbling out like a confession, as though saying them aloud might help him fully believe it.

“Really our baby,” you echoed, and the way you said it, so soft but so certain, nearly unraveled him.

Quinn’s thumb brushed over your skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if tethering himself in the moment. He didn’t let go, didn’t even think about moving. His fingers flexed gently against you, holding on as though the world might tip if he didn’t anchor himself to this — to you.

He exhaled quietly, his voice dropping even lower as his gaze flicked back to your bump.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he murmurs. “To you. To seeing you like this.” His voice caught slightly, and his eyes softened even further as they roamed the swell of your stomach, his hands cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you — off the way your body had changed, the way it was carrying something that was a part of both of you. It hit him all at once, an overwhelming wave of awe that nearly stole his breath. The guys had joked about this, their faces lighting up in a way that always seemed a little exaggerated when they said there was nothing more attractive than seeing your partner pregnant with your child. He’d brushed it off at the time, but standing here now, he finally understood. You were stunning, and it wasn’t just how you looked — it was what it meant. What you were doing.

He kept those thoughts to himself, too raw and vulnerable to say aloud, but they lingered, stirring in the quiet space between you.

“You’re just so beautiful,” he said instead, the words escaping before he could stop them. He didn’t need to elaborate — everything he felt was in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft, his expression completely open.

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, a warmth rising in your chest that had nothing to do with hormones. He saw it immediately — the way your eyes glossed just slightly, your lips pressing together as if to hold back an overflow of emotion. You stared down at the curve of your belly, your hand resting over his, grounding yourself in the moment.

Quinn’s heart clenched at the sight. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but the way your reaction softened your entire expression made his chest ache in the best way. His fingers flexed gently against your stomach again, his thumb brushing over your skin in a slow, steady rhythm, his way of silently telling you that he was right here.

Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something but weren’t quite ready, and he stayed quiet, giving you the space to find the words.

“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” you whispered finally, your voice carrying a quiet awe that made his breath catch.

He paused for just a moment, watching the way your gaze lingered on your belly, before answering.

“It’s real,” he said, almost to himself, as if to convince the last part of him that still couldn’t quite believe it. His fingers pressed a little more firmly, cradling the swell of your stomach with the same care he might handle something sacred. “It’s us. Right here.”

He could see the ripple of emotion in your expression, the way your chest rose in a deep, steadying breath. The way your hand tightened over his for just a second, like you needed him to hold you in the moment.

When your eyes finally met his, the look you gave him stopped him in his tracks. It was full of wonder, gratitude, and a love so profound it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t do anything but hope that you saw everything reflected back in his gaze: the wonder, the love, the quiet, unshakable resolve that whatever came next, he’d be there — every step, every breath. For you. For the tiny life between you. For all of it.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series - part 4

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

The Adult In Charge

You had suggested to draw and Alexia agreed.

Colored pencils danced across the paper as you and Alexia settled into a comfortable silence. She was lost in a world of vibrant blooms and playful hearts, while you meticulously built a scene with familiar figures.

It resembled the drawing she'd found in your room, only this time, the message was clearer. Empty beer bottles stood sentinel around the family, a shadow of worry draped over your grandmother's face, mirrored by your own.

The playful smile slipped from Alexia's lips as you presented your drawing. Your wide eyes and a finger pressed to your lips spoke volumes. A wave of guilt crashed over her – the sudden disgust of beer, the unexplained dip in your grades, the way you clung to her whenever she left… it all clicked into place.

Understanding brought no comfort. In fact, she felt even more adrift. You, so small and seemingly fragile, were carrying a weight far too heavy. Yet, beneath it all, a quiet strength flickered.

Without a word, she pulled you into a hug. It was an embrace you craved – warm, safe, the scent of her hair tickling your nose and drawing a giggle from your lips.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over as a choked whisper escaped her lips. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice thick with regret. It wasn't the empty apology you were used to, the ones tossed out by your family like yesterday's trash after a night of chaos. This one felt genuine, laced with a pain that mirrored your own.

You wanted to comfort her, to wipe away the tears that stained her cheeks. Maybe, you thought, there was time. Time before you told her everything, about the turmoil at home, the battles you silently fought. You mumbled, "It's okay," your voice barely above a whisper.

With a newfound determination in her eyes, she grabbed a scrap of paper and scribbled something down. "I'm going to help you," she declared, her voice firm despite the tremor running through it. "I don't know how yet, but I will."

Folding the paper carefully, she placed it in your small hand. "This is my phone number," she explained. "If things get bad, if you ever need someone to talk to, call me. Any time, day or night. Even if I'm not in Barcelona, I'll find a way to answer."

A furrow formed between your brows. How could you call? You didn't even have a phone. But her concern warmed you from the inside out. "Okay," you agreed, the promise a weight in your hand almost as heavy as the one in your heart. "I'll keep it safe." Perhaps, it was a small step, a whisper of hope in the darkness. But with her number clutched tightly, you felt a flicker of connection, a lifeline thrown across the storm.

Alexia's hand trembled as it cupped your cheek, her touch making the tears welling in her eyes overflow. Here you were, barely seven, your innocence marred by the shadows in your own home. It felt unbearable.

Taking you away, whisking you off to a haven painted with butterflies, vibrant colors, and the warm aroma of cookies – that was a fantasy. A painful one that twisted at her heart. But she had to be strong. You needed her to be strong.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile, albeit a shaky one. "Alright, little one," she started, her voice thicker than usual. "I need to go now. I'm going to talk to Alba, see what we can do to help, okay?"

"Okay," you mumbled, your voice small. "I'm mostly safe. It's just… random days, you know? Like next week. We're having a barbecue day, and I already know things will get bad."

The way you said it, so matter-of-factly, about your "bad days," sent a fresh wave of anger and protectiveness crashing through her. She wanted to scream, to break something, to do anything to shield you from this reality. But instead, she squeezed your hand gently, a silent promise that she wouldn't rest until there was a better way. "I'll get your parents to invite me," she whispered, her voice firm despite the storm within. "And I'll be by your side all the time, let me handle it."

What It Takes To Raise A Child

The weight of the situation pressed down on Alexia as she hung up the phone after hours of talking to Alba. They had agreed to loop in Eli, hoping her wisdom and experience would offer a solution.

The next day, the two sisters arrived at her mother's house, a collective knot of worry tight in their stomachs. They poured out everything they knew, hoping Eli could find the missing pieces and a way out.

Eli listened intently, then sighed. "It's a tangled mess, girls. The legal system moves slow, and unfortunately, children in dangerous situations often fall through the cracks." She saw the discouragement cloud their faces, especially the deep sadness in Alexia's eyes.

"There might be an option," Eli offered tentatively. "If an adult becomes her legal guardian..." Her voice trailed off, gauging their reactions.

Alexia's head snapped up, her heart pounding. Becoming your guardian, your savior - it was a tempting solution. But could she truly offer the stability you needed? Did she even want that kind of responsibility?

Alexia loved being around kids, but it wasn't the same as having them full-time. Alba, the free spirit who yearned for adventure, wasn't cut out for such a commitment. And Eli, a mother who had raised two daughters while dealing with her husband's death, deserved a life beyond worry.

They all wanted to help, yet the hypocrisy gnawed at them. Each clung to their own life, hesitant to sacrifice the freedom they held dear.

"This needs careful thought," Eli began, suggesting a week or two to consider their options.

"No!" Alexia interjected, her voice sharp with urgency. "She doesn't have that kind of time. Her family reunion is next week, and she already knows things are going to get worse. A child who should be worrying about homework and toys understands danger – that's heartbreaking. I promised her I'd be there, but how can I help when she can't even call me? I've given her my number but she doesn't have a phone. She shouldn't be worried about having a phone!"

The room fell silent. The weight of Alexia's words hung heavy in the air. They needed a plan, and fast. You were running out of time.

The silence stretched, thick with the weight of the situation. Alexia's outburst had shattered the illusion of a simple solution. Eli, ever the pragmatist, finally spoke.

"Alright, let's not panic. We need a two-pronged approach. First, we figure out how to get you immediate contact with her. Maybe we can get her a very simple phone, that only has the option to make and receive calls."

Alba, ever the resourceful one, jumped in. "We just need to get it to her discreetly."

A flicker of hope ignited in Alexia's eyes. "And what about the long-term solution? Taking her in isn't an option for any of us right now, and I have to leave for camp in some weeks. I'm not going to be away for one or two weeks but for four weeks at least."

Eli stroked her chin thoughtfully. "There are other possibilities. Foster care, a safe house for at-risk children... We need to explore all avenues and see what resources are available."

"And in the meantime?" Alexia pressed, worry etched on her face.

"In the meantime," Eli stated firmly, "we do everything we can to prepare for the reunion. We need to have a plan in place, a way to assess the situation and intervene if necessary. We also need to talk to you, Alexia. Are you prepared to become a potential point of contact for authorities if things escalate?"

The question hung heavy in the air. Alexia knew the answer held immense responsibility, a potential life-altering decision. But the memory of your frightened eyes and the weight of your unspoken plea filled her with resolve.

Taking a deep breath, she met Eli's gaze. "Yes," she said, her voice firm. "I am."

The fight was far from over, but with a plan forming and a renewed sense of purpose, the women huddled closer, determined to be your shield in the coming storm.

The Plan

The days leading up to the family reunion were a whirlwind of activity. Alba had bought a Nokia phone that resembled those 2000s phones.

She had managed to make your parents believe that it was a present for you, as you would always play with Alba's phone, acting as if you were an important CEO receiving calls.

Alexia, ever resourceful, remembered your love for baking. She concocted a plan, suggesting to your mother you and Alexia would bake a batch of cookies for your family the day of the reunion, as your parents would clean the house, ready to host the barbecue.

Meanwhile, Eli started researching foster care options and potential safe houses. She contacted a trusted social worker, outlining the situation in careful detail. The social worker, sympathetic but cautious, promised to keep an eye out for any openings and offered guidance on how to report suspected abuse.

The weight of the situation pressed heavily on Alexia. She knew the reunion could be a tipping point. Every stolen glance at the calendar fueled her anxiety. Sleep was a distant memory, replaced by a constant barrage of "what ifs?" swirling through her mind.

[kyufessions]

glitter

synopsis: you walk in on your daughter giving your fiancé a makeover

genre: fluff, domestic

pairings: fiancé, non-idol! jeno x g.n. reader

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i really went off with this lmao. this is the most inspired i’ve been in a while for a story so hope y’all enjoy!

general taglist: @jwnghyuns @eaudenana @soobin-chois

nct taglist: @jungsusvillain

Glitter was going to be everywhere in your house for the next two weeks, but you honestly didn’t care much. on any other day you would sigh about it and remind your daughter, aecha, to ask you first before doing so or remind her to use her designated playroom rather than the living room but coming home to see your fiance sitting across from a four year old as she smothers his face with cheap eyeshadow and glitter, you couldn’t help but find yourself amused by the sight. There sat an almost six foot tall man in grey slacks with a light blue button up shirt and a loosened tie in the middle of your living room floor, across from him was a little four year old girl using a barbie eyeshadow palette all over his face- the purple glitter hitting pan as she used it for nearly everything.

“Sit still!” she demanded in her tiny voice as she smeared a green shade across his one eyelid, the other one already light pink with a sparkling shine. The concentration on her face was very evident, her cheeks puffed out as her eyes squinted to get a clearer look.

“Sorry, sorry.” he mumbled, a small chuckle leaving past his lips as they upcurved into a grin. He tried looking up at her to watch what she was doing but she reminded him to keep his eyes down so she could get all the color on him, earning another mumbled ‘sorry’ from the grown man. “What color are you using?”

You stood against the door frame watching in silence, the door still slightly ajar as to not warn anyone of your presence. Instead, you took out your phone to record the moment quietly. When you first started dating jeno, you were scared he wouldn’t accept that you were a parent of a two year old. You had been on countless dates within the past few months, but none of them ever went past the first two because as soon as they found out you had a child they didn’t want anything to progress further. With being in your early twenties, you figured not many people would want to see someone that was already a parent. And you definitely didn't want to date anyone who was a lot older than you, so you were stuck. Well, until you met jeno that is.

You remember the day as if it were yesterday: you were at the local park down the street from your old apartment complex, watching as aecha played in the sandbox with some other children. All the other parents were older and ignored you for the most part, judgemental stares were never not thrown your way when you would explain she was indeed your daughter and not your niece, sister, or cousin. But you always ignored them, not caring much about what people thought about you. Having aecha was something you had never regretted, not even for one second. As you sat there in your thoughts and sipped on your iced coffee, you felt a presence sit next to you on the bench. You glanced at them from the corner of your eye, noticing it was a man in a navy blue plaid shirt and jeans. He seemed to be around your age, maybe younger by not much. Silence hung between the both of you, but it didn’t seem too awkward- just that type of awkwardness you feel when meeting a stranger for the first time.

“Uncle!” you heard a child yell as they ran towards him, his arms up in the air asking to be picked up.

And the stranger did just that, picking up him gracefully and putting him in his lap. “Hajoon!” He greets him with a smile, and when you glance at them for a second you can notice how both of their smiles are practically the same. “What’s up? Are you feeling okay?”

The child nods, his smile turning into a pout. “Yes! But can we stay a little longer? I want to help them finish their sandcastle!” his little finger points towards the small group of children your daughter was sitting with, their little selves working hard at building a sandcastle as tall as the tree next to them- or at least, that was their goal.

As soon as the stranger tells him it's okay, he hops off his lap and runs back towards your daughter and her group of friends she's made. You both sit in silence again for a few moments, watching the children carefully as they get to work. It wasn't until you were mid-sip on your caramel iced coffee when the stranger spoke up.

“Which kid is yours?” the deep voice asked, making you turn your head in his direction as you pointed towards your aecha.

Quickly swallowing your drink, you finally responded. “The one with the pigtails and bows in her hair with the rainbow overalls.”

Jeno watched how you smiled at her when she waved at you, making his lips turn into a shy smile. Through your simple actions he could tell you adored her more than anything, and he admired that right off the bat. “The loud one in the dinosaur shirt is my nephew, hajoon.” you nod, taking another small sip of the remainder of your coffee. Not wanting the conversation to stop, he continues on. “Is she your niece?”

You shake your head, finally turning your head towards him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made your stomach flip for a split second before you brushed it aside, choosing to ignore how handsome this stranger was. “No, she’s my daughter.” The shock on his face was subtle, but the change in his facial expression gave away his surprise. You just smile at his expression, used to it by now. “I had her young, but she’s everything to me.”

For the next half an hour, you both sat there as the kids would knock down and rebuild their sand castles before jeno received a call that it was time to start bringing hajoon back home for dinner. Throughout that time, you both got to know one another. You learned how he was a year younger than you and how he had just started college, how he also enjoyed doing music on the side here and there for extra money at times. And although you were still young, he admired how you still put yourself through school and two part time jobs just to give your daughter what she deserved. When he learned of you being a single parent, he mentally cursed at the person leaving you to care for a child at such a young age. How dare they do such a thing?

“Will you be okay getting home?” he asked as hajoon jumped on his back, his arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold on tight.

Nodding, you fix aecha’s hair quickly before grabbing her hand and standing towards the opposite direction. “I’ll be okay, thank you. I live right down the block.”

From then on, every Saturday you would ‘coincidentally’ bump into each other at that same park, him with hajoon and you with aecha. But what you learned after you both officially started dating for a few months was he would volunteer to hang out with hajoon every saturday. He'd take him out for lunch, sometimes take him shopping or to the arcade, but one thing he never missed was taking him to the park around the same time every weekend. It took jeno a month of that same routine to finally ask for your number, then another month to ask you on a proper date, and then a third month to officially ask you out. It’s now two years later and jeno is nearing the end of his graduation with a job already secured for him, while you had finished your college degree a year ago and was able to work from home most days. The day after your graduation jeno had proposed, but asked to wait until he graduated to move forward with wedding planning. Agreeing, you both divided to just move in together for the time being and secured a three bedroom apartment together closer to where his new job would be located. Everything with jeno seemed like a fairytale you never thought would happen.

“Green!” aecha exclaimed, a proud smile appearing on her face.

For a few moments more you watch them talk about how green would and wouldn’t match his outfit best, and aecha offering jeno one of her princess dresses that would look better than his ‘ugly outfit’. Chuckling lowly to yourself, you stop recording and close the door behind you before walking towards them with a smile.

Aecha automatically runs up to you with a smile, her body clinging to your legs as you bend down to her level and envelope her into a hug. “What's going on here?” you ask her, finally noticing the small specks of glitter on her face as well. You smile at jeno as he looks at you with a playfully defeated look, the lipstick that your daughter chose everywhere except for his lips.

She tugged at your hand, pulling you further to where your fiance sat with his legs crossed. “I made daddy pretty!” you both laughed at her comment, using your pointer finger to turn jeno’s face more towards you for a better view. No words needed to be exchanged, all you did was smile at one another as your eyes said it all. “Do you like it?”

Turning to her, you kiss the top of her head and pat it afterwards. “I love it! Can you do my makeup tomorrow for daddy and i’s date?” as she starts jumping up and down with joy, you stop her quickly by putting your hand on her shoulder. “But only if you can do one thing for me.” she nods eagerly, waiting for the deal. “If you start getting ready for your bath, you can do my makeup tomorrow. I’ll even give you bubbles for tonight, how does that sound?”

Before you know it, she runs down the hall and up the stairs to her room, you both watch as she runs into her room and closes the door behind herself to start changing. When jeno turns around, he sees you kneeling down to his eye-level and smiling at him in an attempt to hold back laughter. Failing as soon as he smiles back at you with a toothy grin, you sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck as you press multiple pecked kisses against his lips as you both laugh together.

“How was work?” you ask after smothering him with kisses, bringing your thumb up to his face to smudge away some glitter from the apple of his cheek. “Your day seemed eventful.”

He takes one hand off of your waist and takes your hand in his, placing a kiss on the back of it. “It was good, the internship is promising and I have my last day of classes this Friday before graduation.” jeno starts blinking rapidly as he feels glitter in his eye, quickly rubbing it away and grabbing your hand again afterwards. “Aecha and I made ramen for lunch and then she wanted to do my makeup. I know how you feel about glitter but I, unfortunately, had no say in the matter.”

“It's okay as long as you help me clean it up afterwards.” you say, sneaking your phone out of your pocket and taking a few quick pics of jeno before you get up and drag him towards the bathroom to wipe the makeup off his face. He watches you do so, admiring every move you make. Even though you looked tired from work, you still had a glow that he never got tired of. Alluring couldn’t even begin to describe how he saw you, no synonyms could ever begin to describe. Even though your face was straight, your lips always had an upcurve to them that came across as welcoming and friendly. And when you were concentrating, you bit the inside of your bottom lip ever so slightly as your eyes were slightly squinted.

“Let's have another.”

Giggling, you stop what you're doing and look him in the eyes. “What do you mean, ‘let's have another’?”

He grabs your hands, intertwining your fingers together before kissing your knuckles as he speaks. “I mean, let's have another kid.”

You always knew jeno wanted more kids, and now that aecha is in daycare and has friends who have siblings she keeps asking for a brother or sister more often than not. After your daughter, you always told yourself you wouldn’t have more kids until you were older- maybe early to mid thirties. But with life falling into place, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect time.

“I like that idea.” you confess, smiling from ear to ear as jeno lifts you up by your thighs and kisses you deeply. But the kiss is soon cut short as you hear aecha coming down the stairs towards the bathroom.

You just couldn’t wait to grow your little family even more.

[thatfreshi]

He's Not Sick, Is He? (Astarion x reader)

I had this thought the other day, and am interested to explore it. The way Astarion describes how he feels after Cazador's death as 'numb,' I have a feeling he would slip into a bout of depression for a while after, unsure of what to do now, unsure of what his purpose is now that Cazador is gone. Might make a resolved part two of this.

tw - ed behaviors, self-harm, gore, drinking

Recommended Song: Swingin Party - Lorde

You and Astarion stayed at a nearby inn the weeks after Cazador's demise. The innkeeper let the two of you stay as long as you needed, as a way of saying thanks for dealing with one of the worst vermin in the city. With everything handled, the Absolute gone, the mind flayers off your minds, there was nothing left to do. You remember that evening, when you two stumbled into the inn room, feeling as if your bodies were going to fall apart. Astarion though, he felt it in a way that was indescribable. He expected there to be this weight off his shoulders, for the air to suddenly feel clearer, and yet there was nothing.

When you sat on the edge of the bed to start taking off your blood-stained clothes, he simply went to the washroom without a word, practically slamming the door. You were no stranger to the occasional vampiric hissy-fit, but this was far from that. The energy he was radiating, it hurt, got caught in your throat like choking on tears.

As soon as the door closed, he tried to hold back tears. He was alone now, but if he wasn't careful you'd hear him, crying like a baby after doing the only thing he's ever wanted to. Who frees themselves and sobs about it? No, he shouldn't feel this way, not empty and pathetic. Instead of trying to wash up, Astarion simply slipped back against the door, and sat there in whatever this feeling was. You choose not to disturb him, sure that he just needs some time to himself. You fall asleep eventually. He doesn't come to bed for hours.

The next day, you wake up before him, quite the odd occurrence. You decide not to wake him, knowing he's exhausted. He deserves some restful sleep. But his sleep is in fact not restful. It's light, serving almost no purpose. His mind is still far too active, never truly drifting into anything peaceful. Your shuffling around the room wakes him quite easily. When you hear him move around in the sheets, you turn quickly.

"I'm sorry my love, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright."

He says nothing else, and you move to sit on the bed as he lies there.

"How are you feeling?"

Astarion isn't quite sure how to respond. It feels like there's this void in his chest, perhaps his entire torso. Usually he would love waking up to you, make some quip about how gorgeous you are despite the bedhead, but nothing comes.

"Tired."

Odd. He only has to sleep for a couple of hours, and yet he's tired? You brush it off, thinking that perhaps it just wasn't good sleep.

"That's alright. Do you need anything? A drink?"

"No, I think I'm just going to sit here a while longer."

He's barely moved since he awoke.

"Aster, you haven't had any blood since the day before Cazador's. You need something, especially after all of that energy you used up."

The vampire turns in the sheets, looking away from you, wrapping himself in the blanket.

"I'll be alright."

"Nonsense, you need-"

"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all Tav."

His words wound you, but you try not to take it personally.

"Alright. I'll give you some space."

Steps out the door, the light closing of the entrance. Astarion still in the sheets, wearing the same blood-covered clothes from yesterday. He begins to weep again, waiting just long enough that he knows you've gone downstairs.

You're met with the rest of your companions downstairs, who are all glad to see you.

"Well well, if it isn't Tav. Is the vampiric hero of the realm joining us for breakfast?"

Gale is in quite a good mood, happy to be alive and well.

"No he... he just needs to rest a little longer."

You sound unsure of yourself, but they don't question it. You understand Astarion better than any of them, and yet you were stumped by his behavior. He's never been this short with you.

"I don't blame him. I barely got up this morning as well."

Shadowheart smiles, drinking a fresh cup of tea.

"Well, now that we're all freed of the Absolute and our other various problems, where are we all headed?"

Karlach has been waiting for this moment, excited to start living a life outside of the terror that was the cultists. The group all starts talking about how they'll probably stay in the city, just in case Baldur's Gate ever needs them again. Gale talks about how he'll have to move everything from his tower in Waterdeep, and many of your companions offer to help with the move.

"What about you and Astarion? I'm sure you two lovebirds have some big plans now that he's free."

Of course, Karlach meant it kindly, but you were stumped. What would the two of you do now?

"We haven't really had time to talk about it. I'm sure we'll come up with something soon."

She thankfully takes the answer at face value. After a hour or so of chatting, you take your leave, heading back to your room. You softly knock, letting Astarion know you're coming in. He hasn't moved, but he hasn't slept either. You don't say anything, instead you move to lie next to him, wrapping your arms around him. Usually your touch is electrifying, so welcome, but he can barely feel it. Your soft fingers, the embrace of your arms, your breath on his shoulder, it all means nothing. Why does it mean nothing?

"You really should feed soon Astarion."

He says nothing, simply wondering if he'll feel like this forever. Was it a final curse that Cazador bestowed?

"I... I don't feel like it. I don't really feel like doing anything."

"I know my love, but you at least need some blood."

"It can wait. Maybe tomorrow."

Tomorrow comes, and the day after, and many days after that. The two of you stay at the inn, barely having spoken about anything. You try to insist to your friends that he's sick, which wouldn't be entirely incorrect.

"Should I come see him?"

"No, no need Shadowheart. It's just a bad cold, it'll pass soon enough."

One by one, your companions make their way out of the inn, and Gale is the last one to stay. One evening, you're at the bar downstairs, and Gale comes to drink with you.

"This seat taken?"

"No, just me."

You take a long swig of whatever the barkeep poured in your cup. He situates himself on the stool beside you, motioning for a glass a wine.

"Tav... he's not sick, is he?"

You shake for a moment, tears start forming. It takes all of your energy to speak a single word.

"No."

Silence.

"No he... he's barely done anything since we got back. We barely talk. He hasn't had any blood Gale I- I'm really scared."

He takes a somber sip of his wine.

"I know you care about his privacy, understandably, but why wouldn't you tell us?"

You try to take another sip of your drink, but shake too much.

"Because I'm afraid it's my fault. That maybe by stopping the ritual, I somehow did this to him."

Gale takes one of your shaking hands. You're not used to warm touch.

"You didn't do anything wrong. We both know he would've become a monster if he went through with that godforsaken ritual. Have you considered that he's just feeling a little lost? After all, this is all he's wanted for centuries, to see his master fall."

You try to dry your tears.

"Yes, of course, I knew he'd be emotional... but this? I've never seen him like this.

"It will pass Tav, you just have to be there for him."

"How am I supposed to be there for him when he barely even talks to me? I keep trying, trying to tell him that it's alright, that I'm here, but it doesn't help. He won't even drink from me."

"Perhaps there's nothing you can do. He might just need time."

You manage to finish your drink.

"What if he never gets better?'

Gale doesn't meet your eyes, taking yet another sip.

"I know I'm the optimist amongst us, but we just have to hope. All we can do is hope."

You order another drink, and the two of you drink in silence for a while, until eventually he retires to his room.

"I leave for Waterdeep tomorrow, to go get my things, but I'll be back soon enough. Send a pigeon if you need me?"

You nod, a somber smile on your face.

"Thank you Gale. Best of luck in your travels."

You stay frozen at the bar for a while, not wanting to go back to the room, not wanting to face your lover fading away. He refuses to leave, even when your companions left the inn, he refused to say goodbye. When you do decide to come back, you softly knock, as always. He's strewn about in the sheets, reading some tome he's read a million times before. You come sit on the floor by the edge of the bed. He doesn't seem to notice you at first, eyes moving slowly across words he already knows. Just something to do, something easy, something that doesn't make his body feel like a bag of bricks when he thinks about it.

"Do you think you're ready to feed yet?"

Astarion simply shakes his head.

"Please my love, please. I know it's hard right now, but please just try."

"I don't know, I just... I don't think I can."

You sigh, holding back tears, streams still wet on your face from the bar. Instead of pleading with him, you grab a nearby bottle and your knife, taking them both to the washroom. You slice clean down your arm, wincing at the pain of the blade. You haven't sharpened it in a while, leaving jagged lines down your forearm. He hears you, but can't bring himself to say anything, simply feeling guilty. You take the mouth of the bottle to your arm, letting the blood drip into the glass. It burns, you didn't even think of cleaning the blade beforehand. You let it bleed though, until the bottle is full. You grit your teeth as you clean the wound, wrapping it in some spare bandage, fully knowing it will leave an ugly scar. When you leave the washroom, you put the bottle on the nightstand nearest to Astarion.

"There. For whenever you're ready."

And with that, you leave again, slowly closing the door, your arm throbbing in pain. He looks at the bottle, knowing what you've done, and he tears up again, something he hasn't managed to do in front of you all this time. You're frustrated, and you don't know with who, but it makes you sick to your stomach. It's as if the life has been drained from him, like he'll never be the same. You leave the inn, and walk for a long time, wasting the hours of the night crying as you drift to wherever. You get a few odd looks, but no one dares stop to ask why you're crying in the middle of the street this late. At some point, your feet stop carrying you, and you sit against the rock in some alley, hugging your knees, fully sobbing into the fabric of your pants. You're scared, scared to go back, scared to see the bottle still full on the table. For a moment, just a moment, you think what would happen if you left him there, if you disappeared. Guilt overwhelms you, causing the tears to fall faster. No, you have to go back, but not now. Not now, but soon. You silently hope soon doesn't come too fast, and you feel horrible for it. But for now, you have a couple hours in this dark alley, a couple hours before you feel the need to check on him again. And you begin sobbing again, knowing that nothing will have changed when dawn comes.

[professorsnape394]

Day 4: "Me or Her?"

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC

Rating:😠🥰

Prompt: Torn

Summary: Severus must chose between his old life and his new life, or risk losing those closest to him.

A/N: Can't resist a good angsty moment. Writing this broke me a little bit in the best possible way. My heart was aching.

Warnings: alcohol.

Word Count: 2184

Credits to Gif Creator

Halloween had always been a difficult day for Severus. While the rest of the world gathered their friends to dress up in ridiculous costumes and gallivant around from door to door, Severus opted to stay at home, mourning the loss of his first love and childhood best friend.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. It was the height of the First Wizarding War; The Dark Lord had learned of the prophecy and was setting out to murder any new parents with a son born at the end of July. Severus had begged Voldemort not to hurt her. Dumbledore had promised to keep her safe. At that point Lily Evans was the only person in his life who had ever saw the good in him. He needed her to be kept alive.

As it turned out neither wizard kept their promise to their most loyal subject, and Lily Potter was murdered on the 31st of October 1981 Severus was the one to find her; lying lifeless on the floor of her son’s nursery. Her son, who infuriatingly had survived the Unforgivable Curse that was meant to end his life, remained unharmed and wailing in his crib. Lily had not been so fortunate.

Snape fell to his knees beside her limp body, cradling her in his arms. Sobbing openly for the loss of his best friend.

Halloween marked this occasion every year serving as a cruel reminder of everything he had lost that day. So instead of celebrating like everyone else, he chose to drink.

The potions master kept an old photograph of himself and the young witch hidden away in the drawers of his desk. It depicted a moving image of the two of them side by side as young teens, posing and giggling hysterically at the camera. It was his tradition to set the picture on his desk once a year and drink himself numb on a bottle of Firewhiskey.

This year he had thought would be no different. The picture lay flat on his desktop, the uncorked bottle of alcohol stood beside it. Yet, he hesitated.

Without warning his office door swung open, revealing a stunning young witch dressed in a deep red velvet gown with flared sleeves stretching almost to the floor.

“Are you nearly ready honey, if we don’t leave now we’ll be late the party.” Her temporary vampire teeth peaked out through her blood red lips.

While his enchantingly beautiful wife was hard to resist looking at as she relaxed against the doorframe, a party on this night just felt wrong.

“I’m not coming.” He muttered, his hand automatically reaching for the bottle.

“But you promised…” She whispered, the grin dropping from her face.

“I’ve changed my mind, I think I’d prefer to be alone this evening.”

The hurt on his wife’s face could not be clearer; this wasn’t the first time he had let her down at the last minute.

“It’s time to move on Severus.” She removed her fake teeth, not wanting her next words to be slurred.  “If you always insist on living in the past, those here in the present will get tired of waiting on you.”

While she had always been sympathetic to her husband’s emotions, she couldn’t help but feel rejected by him. That if Lily had somehow survived that night, she would be the one standing in her place instead.

Severus stared down at the old photograph, not daring to meet his wife’s watering eyes.

“Answer me this, Severus, because I’m only going to ask it once. If she were here. If it was me or her. Who would you choose?”

The question shouldn’t have come as a shock to the man, he had always suspected it had been on his wife’s mind. But hearing it out loud came as a blow to his chest. He knew the answer but it would hurt him deeply to say it aloud. So instead, he loosened the cap of his whiskey, poured himself a large glass and drank until only a few droplets remained.

A frustrated sigh filled the room.

“I’ll be back around 11. If your still conscious enough, feel free to join me in bed.” She snapped, slamming the door behind her.

Severus buried his head in his hands. Of course, he knew his ritual was unhealthy, and now that he was married it was well past time that he stopped it. But still, he worried that by giving up this day that he dedicated to his young love, he was somehow letting her down yet again. That it was his fault she died and by letting this routine go, she was somehow dying all over again. He worried that his memory of her might be forgotten if he didn’t spend at least one day a year wallowing in his grief for her.

He drained a second glass of whiskey.

Snape had fucked up big this time, and now his worry was he was at risk of losing his wife, the only woman who had ever truly loved him back. 

Looking down the barrel of his third drink, Severus heard a faint knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called out.

In bounded a girl no higher than his thigh, clad in shades of pink and purple tulle, paired with a set of translucent net wings and topped with a silver plastic tiara.

“Hi Daddy.” She beamed up at him.

“Hello sweetheart.” Severus picked the girl up by her armpits, placing her gently on his lap. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“Eh, I’m a fairy princess, duh?” She mumbled, brandishing her pretend wand at him.

“Of course, you are.” He nodded in understanding. “And the most beautiful one at that.”

His daughter blushed appreciatively, but almost immediately fell into a look of disappointment.

“Mummy said you’re not coming to the party again.”

“That’s true, darling. Daddy has to stay home this year.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid I have things I need to do at home. But you and Mummy can still go to the party and have so much fun.”

“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “Mummy is always sad when you don’t come places. I don’t think she knows how to have fun without you Daddy.” The girl pouted.

Severus heart dropped in his chest. He knew his wife was disappointed in him staying at home, but he had always assumed she was out enjoying her time with her friends while he stewed in his self-pity.

“Doesn’t she dance with anyone at the party? I’ve never known your mother to miss out on an opportunity to frolic around a dancefloor.”

His daughter shook her head again, dark ringlet curls swishing through the air.

“She doesn’t even take part in the costume contests, which is rubbish because I bet she’d win every time. She just sits at a table all night watching everyone else have fun, it so boooooring.”

Severus’ mouth turned dry and he struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe that the vibrant woman he had married would sit on the side-lines, dimming her light because of him. She was the life of the party, the one who went all in on everything she does, the one who makes everyone smile just by simply being in the same room them. She was everything he was not, which is why he loved her so much. He couldn’t bare the thought of her losing everything that makes her special because she always felt second best to a dead woman.

“Come with me.”

Severus took his daughter by her tiny warm hand and led her out of his office, but not before grabbing one last thing on his way out.

Yet another crack opened in his chest at the sight he stumbled upon in the kitchen.

His wife sat hunched over their dining table, sobbing into the palm on her hand, while tears poured down her cheeks, streaking her makeup as they fell.

“Y/N.” He croaked, laying his palm flat on her back.

The woman stiffened at this touch, quickly wiping away her tears and composing herself once more. She never let her husband see her cry.

“Oh, would you look at the time, sweetie.” Y/N gulped. “We better get going or else we’ll miss our chance to enter the costume contest, I really think we have a good chance at winning this year.” Her tone was unusually high pitched and alarmingly positive, but Severus could still hear the small sniffles she couldn’t repress every time she took a deep breath.

Y/N turned her back on Snape, rushing to the hooks by the door to grab her daughters coat and shoes.

“Y/N.” Severus repeated, his voice now full of pity.

“Like I said; we should be no later than 11, possibly earlier if this one has a sugar crash, but no need to wait up, I know you have more important things to do.” She didn’t dare even look in his direction.

Doing up the final button on her daughter’s coat, Y/N took her child by the hand and ushered her out the door.

“Y/N!” Snape said a final time, his tone firmer this time. “Look at me.” The woman froze on the spot but hesitated to face him.

Whispering in Delphine’s ear to go play, Y/N knew she couldn’t run from this conversation any longer.

Y/N forced her posture ramrod straight, tilted her chin up, took a long but shaky deep breath and finally turned to face her husband. It was obvious to him that she was trying her best to remain stoic, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the man who had none.

“You’ve made your choice, Severus. I can’t claim to understand it, but I’ll respect it. I know now that I’ll never be able to live up to the woman you first loved. I used to think that maybe if we were together long enough and I tried hard enough that I could be enough for you. I just wish I knew when I married you that would never be a possibility. I have always loved you, with every fibre of my being. I was foolish to think I deserved the same in return.”

“Y/N.”

“Stop saying my name. Please.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight, like it physically pained her to hear his voice. “Delphi deserves to have a stable home, so I’ll stay. But I can’t promise I’ll be the same woman I was. I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough for you.” A tear escaped Y/N’s eye, this time she let it fall. There was no need to be strong for a man who loved someone else.

“Shut up, you foolish woman.” Severus scorned.

“Excuse me? Don’t you dare talk to me like that I-”

“I made my choice a long time ago. I fell in love with an incredible woman. She was uncommonly kind, remarkably clever and surprisingly very funny. She had this ability to draw the attention of any crowd but somehow never made it about herself. Her smile could light up any room, turn any sad man happy. She would dance until her feet hurt, and then get up and do it again, even if it meant she had to go barefoot. She is singularly the most strikingly beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I made my choice a very long time ago, Y/N.”

“I appreciate your honesty but I don’t want to hear it.” Another tear fell.

Snape slowly stepped towards his wife. He could see her shoulders tensing with every tap of his heel on the hardwood floor.

Severus wipes away her stray tears with his thumb, cupping Y/N’s face between two hands.

“The woman I fell in love with is so stubbornly strong, she has spent the last five years hiding away her tears from me. And it hurts me deeply that she thinks she could ever be second best to anyone. The day I met you was the day I realised I had never truly felt love before.  There is no second place in my eyes, you have always been the only one for me.”

“But what about- “

“She was my friend.” He interjected. “And I failed her in the worst possible way. Just as I have done with you; by not showing you how much you mean to me, that changes today. I’m coming to the party.”

“You don’t have to.” She tried to escape his embrace.

“I want to.” He pulled her closer. “For you and for Delphine; the only two girls who have ever mattered to me.”

Reaching into his pocket, Severus revealed the old photograph of him as a teen. He felt his wife’s breath hitch at the sight of it. The source of all her anguish, one silly little picture he had obsessed over his whole life. He wouldn’t subject her to that anymore.

With one singular rip, Severus tore the portrait right through the centre, severing himself from the past.

“No more.” He promised. “I love you, Y/N. No one else.”

[yona049]

𝕻𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕺𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

Part 4

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(Phantom finally returns!)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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Disclaimer!

>Many time skips

>Rushed chapter! (pls let me know if you spot a mistake)

>This has evolved into its own story, if its not something you're interested in, feel free to skip this one and check out some other fics on my page! °v°

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A horrible taste sat in Y/n's mouth as she stared out the window at the setting sun while sitting on the bed. She'd been in thought all day, trying to figure out what to do. She'd loved Aloïs, but this Aloïs was new to her, new personality, new possessions, new life.

She's pulled from her thoughts when a gentle hand rubs her head.

"You haven't touched your dinner, mon chéri."

Erik's adorable nickname flew right over her head.

"Oh! Yes of course."

She takes the plate and spoon from Erik only to fall back into thought after the first bite. Tapping on the plate slowly with the spoon.

Erik chuckles a little before taking her hand holding the spoon.

"Shall I feed you?" he pushes the spoon onto her lip.

Y/n takes the bite delicately with butterflies dancing in her stomach. Finally her thoughts were concentrated on Erik again and she starts eating.

Erik walks back to his bed and sat facing her. With a small wetstone he rhythmically scraped the edges of his dagger.

"I think, I should give Aloïs a chance."

Erik glances up at Y/n with a pause before resuming his sharpening.

"Oh? You didn't look so compliant this morning."

"I know, but if there's any chance My Aloïs is still there, perhaps I should take it. The riches that come after, is simply insurance for us."

"Us?"

Erik questions. Y/n realizes her words and suddenly their situation becomes clearer.

"Of course, I could never dream of abandoning you. You've saved me so many times-.."

"Then why not stay with me!" his interruption seems almost threatening this time. Eyes drilling into Y/n's.

Y/n sets down the plate and walks to Erik. She kneels down infront of him and takes his hands in hers, watching the words in his eyes.

"Erik, If I were to marry Aloïs. We'd be upper class. You could finally have a chance to see her again."

Erik quickly looks away and shakes his head.

"Who are you enquiring about?"

She delicately squeezes his hands, then also looks away, down at his hands.

"You don't have to deny it. I've seen you sing with her. Even if she is far from here, you always look out the windows as if you could see her. The sparkling in your eyes Erik. I... Could never hope to compete."

Erik didn't look back but his heart ached knowing Y/n's words were true to some extent. He still loved Christine even just a little. How could he not? He'd taught her how to find her voice, listened to her prayers night after night.

Y/n stood up and planted a kiss on Erik's head, then pulling him into a hug. His arms curled around her upper legs with his head on her stomach.

Patting his head delicately she smiled at his genuine, loving hug.

"Tomorrow, when Aloïs returns, I'll give him a chance. After that, we will decide what lays ahead."

She walks out of his grasp without another word and pulls the curtains shut. Once she couldn't see Erik anymore, he looked back at her.

A thin curtain keeping their bodies and souls apart, but so did a man and a woman who they both once loved.

Y/n lifts the ring that Aloïs gave her off the bed side table to look at it, quite coincidentally, so too did Erik lift Christine's ring.

○○○○

No sooner did morning come and Y/n found herself face to face with Aloïs outside the tavern.

Him dressed in a new fancy coat while she stood in the same dress she wore yesterday. Erik up in their room but with a keen ear listening to each word.

Y/n lifts her index finger up to Aloïs and stands confidently, chest out and feet steadfast in the ground.

"One outing. One chance to show me you're still the Aloïs I knew and loved."

Aloïs's eyes light up and he is quick to take Y/n's hand and kiss it catching her off gaurd. Not a good start.

"Thank you, chéri! We could go anywhere! Anywhere you'd like!"

Y/n shakes her head and pulls her hand back rubbing it.

"I think it's best if you decide."

"Alright then! Tonight we make for the new Opera house!"

The new Opera house! Where Christine sings? It wouldn't be right towards Erik. In many ways she'd feel like she was betraying him.

Y/n shakes her head trying to quickly object but once again Aloïs's excitement gets the best of him.

"Aloïs! Hold on, we can't! Um... Because, I-I have nothing to wear! "

Aloïs grabs onto the carriage as it starts moving.

"Don't worry! I shall have a dress and other essentials sent here! I will arrive shortly before 6 to pick you up."

Using his feathered hat he waves goodbye to Y/n who is already chewing on her nail with a stiff body.

Erik peaks out the window and watches Y/n rush up the stairs.

○○○

"For the 100th time, Y/n. It's fine!"

Erik stated once again watching Y/n pull the biggest fancy blue dress out of the box it was delivered in.

"Still it doesn't feel right! After what we talked about last night. I should've stopped him sooner!"

With his hands on his hips he watches Y/n struggle with all the fancy things Aloïs sent to her for their date.

"Even if I did object, darling. We can't change it now."

Y/n, trying to pull the large frilly dress off the floor and into her arms, sighs heavily. She peaks through the bundle of a dress in her arms at Erik.

"I am sorry you have to be here alone tonight. Boris was nice enough to give us the night off. Will you be ok?"

She almost stumbles into the closed curtains to get dressed. Small sparkling bits of jewelry were spread out on the bed aswell as make up and fresh shoes.

"I'll be quite fine. I'm no stranger to one night alone. Besides, you should try to enjoy tonight."

Once again Erik watches Y/n's silhouette. She drops the dress she wore onto the floor before crawling her way in though the bottom of the hooped skirt and pushing herself through the arm and head holes.

"I won't be too long hopefully. Still, it will be nice to be back in an Opera house, all be it a completely different one."

She pulls a little and straightens out the dress and puts the shoes on the ground slipping them on. She takes the corset off the bed and pulls it around her torso then pulling the strings as much she could.

"Erik! I might need some help with the corset."

She steps out of the curtains looking down while trying to clip a necklace around the back of her neck.

"Of course I'll-..."

His words drift off once Y/n comes into full view. Her dress a beautiful dark blue with small decorated flakes of gold. A beautiful off shoulder medium length sleeve top with little white frills.

"... Help."

Finishing his sentence with a paced heart and eyes glued to Y/n. She looked so beautiful, it reminded him of all the gowns he'd seen rich woman wear going to see the Opera. A warming nostalgic feeling, mixed with astonished glances to Y/n's clean completion.

He takes a few steps to behind Y/n where he took the strings of the corset and pulled them tight.

Y/n gasped softly once the corset pushed her torso into shape. Erik's hand guide itself over her aside and onto her stomach.

A roaming hand on her stomach going up, Y/n felt the same longing for Erik's touch she'd felt many times before.

"How does it feel? Can you breath?"

Erik whispered to her sending shivers up the back of her neck.

Although she really couldn't breath because of how close Erik was, she nodded.

"Let me help with your hair."

Y/n didn't know how, but Erik seemed to know exactly how to put hair up neat and tidy. This once again brought Erik's past into question. What did he do in the Opera?

Even tho he'd answered the question before, Y/n doubted he helped only moving things around and doing maintenance.

Y/n's hair was freshly washed and dried. She hasn't worn her hair up in a while, she'd always danced with loose hair and gone her days without putting it up.

This means it was the first Erik had seen her like this. Open shoulders and beautiful neckline. He was very unsure why he felt this way for someone other than Christine.

He places a delicate kiss on Y/n's neck, again causing Y/n to gasp at the unexpected moment.

She looks back at Erik connecting with his gaze. A powerful moment from both of them. Y/n wanted to kiss Erik, he wanted exactly the same.

"You're beautiful, Y/n."

He whispers to her.

She smiles a little hearing his little praise and delicately she places her hand on the side of his head.

Nervous but entranced by her, not because she wore a fancy dress or makeup, but because of her smile, because of her lasting laughs and love to all things.

Now more than ever, he needed to decide. Loose one Dimond, or continue chasing another he'd lost sight of long ago.

Within an instant Erik's lips meet hers. Suddenly fireworks spark and all moments they've shared before mix into one. Erik's hand on her stomach push her closer towards him and Y/n grips the back of his hair lightly.

Y/n felt the warmth in his lips, soft hands holding her like he'd never let go. Body language threatening to keep her captured and protected. His forever. She'd felt his embrace so many times before, but this felt warmer than sunshine on her face.

A lasting kiss mixed with uncertainty when the sound of horses come down the street.

Y/n Quickly pulls away putting her hand over her mouth and Erik grits his teeth at the interrupted kiss.

"Erik, I'm sorry, I had no right." Y/n felt the need to apologize.

"Nonsense! This was my decision."

His hands were now shaking, his decision now greatly turned to one side. To Y/n. He wanted to tell her not to go. He wanted to hold her and run to where Aloïs couldn't touch her or even look at her again.

"Y/n-..."

"Stop!" Y/n demanded pulling Erik's hand off her stomach.

"Please don't make this harder than it is! I've tried to ignore it. I'm trying not to be selfish."

She takes a deep shaky breath and rubs her eyes keeping the tears from rushing out.

"I'm trying not to love you, because I know you love her."

With a crumpled bit of her dress squeezed in her fists she clears her throat.

"I'll be back soon, then we can talk!"

She looks up at Erik with glossed eyes then lifts her dress off the ground and running out of the room.

Erik stood frozen, his thoughts rushing with uncertain desire. A longing for another.

Y/n ran downstairs with heavy breathing and tears falling onto the floor but she shook her head and plastered on a smile.

She waved goodbye to Boris who called her pretty girl before she left, giving her a little more reason to smile.

Finally coming out of the tavern. Aloïs is stunned and offers his hand.

"My lady, beautiful as always." Aloïs complimented and placed a small kiss on her hand.

A bouquet of flowers is pulled out of the carriage and given to Y/n. She looked down at the brightly colored flowers and smelled them.

"Their beautiful, Aloïs. Thank you."

Aloïs smiled but stopped for a moment.

"You're not wearing the ring?"

Y/n shakes her head and looks back at the tavern to their room.

"I must have forgotten it."

"Well then! Let's be off, mon amour. The Opera awaits! And perhaps more good news! Christine is preforming tonight. One of the Opera performances you danced for, I think."

Helping Y/n into the carriage, their off into the night air and to the Opera. The Opera house was shining bright in the dimly lit Paris night and was visible even from the tavern.

Erik was still caught in the room, his fists clenched and his jaw locked.

A sudden swing into the wall breaking the wooden plank instantly. Heavy breathing and hair hanging over his eye.

"She is not your mon amour."

His body fuming with anger, feeling once again he was too late! Once again he'd lost to a pretty rich boy. The sunshine when he was the darkness.

He pulled his bloody splintered hand out of the wooden wall still not satisfied. He wanted to bash Aloïs's skull in. He wanted to take Y/n and tell her he loved her, how it took him this long to realize was his own wrong doing.

Her teary and frightened eyes popping into his head. How could someone so beautiful look so sad. Erik felt all the signs flood back from hidden memories.

Y/n's gentle voice helping him stay awake while she carried him after the fire. Her soft hand washing his wound. Her smile not fearing his face. Never once did she shutter away from his touch. All he wanted was to see her smile so happily after a long night's dance.

He made a decision. He wasn't going to let the fool take her, he would take her first.

He once again pushed out the false bottom out of the closet floor to reveal a white mask and black cape along with clothing he wore once before.

He chuckles deeply and pulls the mask onto his face.

"I'll need you once again, old friend. Beware, the Phantom of the Opera."

With a maniacal laughter he swings his cloak on and dissappears into darkness.

○○○

The Opera house burned bright with people and chatter! Golden statues of beautiful men and woman, and a miraculous staircase upon entering.

Y/n felt so out of place when walking on the red carpet. Not even a speck of dust on the polished floors.

Her eyes dazzled with excitement and she'd never felt so far from home.

"Erik! Look at the chandelier!" she pointed with a gloved hand.

Aloïs turns away from his conversation with another older looking noble couple and runs up to her.

"Darling! It's quite beautiful isn't it!"

He quickly puts his arm around her waist and pulls her to his side.

"Don't mind her silly little mind. She gets confused who she's with sometimes."

He explains to the couple. Y/n's mind quickly corrects itself remembering Erik isn't here and her cheeks flush.

Aloïs takes her hand and kisses it before pulling it to his heart.

"My darling Y/n and I are celebrating our engagement! Aren't we?"

Y/n looks at Aloïs confused for a second before the nobel woman claps her hands together happily.

"That's wonderful! I'm happy that the daughter of the famous dancer, will marry my nephew, soon."

Aloïs smiles proudly.

"Yes! Quite a spectacle! Now if you'll excuse us. We have many people to meet."

Aloïs bows his head gently and pulls Y/n towards another couple giving Y/n a chance to plant her feet in the ground and stop.

Her eyes move to Aloïs's with a stern glare.

"Aloïs. We didn't agree to this! We agreed that after I'd make my decision."

Aloïs sighs then nods with a guilty sigh.

"I know, mon amor. But I'm very confident in your answer. As I've said. This is a better life. Besides, I don't want you to rot in that tavern any longer."

His fingertips delicately brush over her cheek and he smiles.

"You're my darling, Y/n. I will keep you safe, till the end of your days until you die comfortably in a silk bed with as many fur children you'd like."

Y/n looks away for a second before thinking of Erik's face, the expression he made every night listening to Christine sing in their cramped little room. She could help him as much as she could help herself.

She looks back up at Aloïs with his glittering outfit and fine polished shoes. Her hand reaches for his bicep and she smiles.

"W-who else do we need to meet? Um.. Darling?"

Aloïs once again smiles with joy and pulls her off to another noble man where she smiles carefully and nods politely.

By the time they arrived in box 5 high above the stage, Y/n was exhausted. She sunk into her seat like a tierd dad after work. She took a breath and quickly straightens herself out to sit straight.

She looks around the box because she'd always wondered why rich nobles found these seats so desirable. She could see the entire stage, tho it was a little far to make out the details.

Aloïs still with heaps of energy flips though the thin paper pamphlet and leans over to Y/n.

"Ah! This opera is the same one that Christine debuted in. I remember her white dress, it took incredibly long to sew all those little white pearls into the dress!"

Y/n smiles and nods.

"I remember, your hands had so many bandaids on for weeks, I was worried about you."

Aloïs puts the pamphlet onto his lap and lifts Y/n's hand to place a small kiss on her knuckles.

"I remember the small cuts, but I remember how you kissed each finger and held me so gently when we fell asleep. "

His thumb traces over her fingers as he stares at them thinking.

"One day, I will create a white dress for you too, mi amor."

For a very small moment, Y/n felt her heart spark. Her Aloïs was starting to shine though again.

Aloïs pulls his hand back and the light dims.

Suddenly a spotlight on stage and the play begins. Dancers fill the stage and Y/n couldn't help her excitement. She clapped watching a dance she knew off by heart. Her feet started bouncing with her urge to dance.

Aloïs smiled and placed a small kiss on her cheek then whispered into her ear.

"Your passion burns bright and beautiful, Y/n."

Another spark made Y/n giggle genuinely before she looks back at the stage.

The orchestra starts with a sudden blast of music filling the large Opera house. Up close and personal she could hear a voice start off with a strong note.

The spotlight shifts, and there she was. The famous and beautiful, Christine Daaé. Y/n's friend and inspiration to dance.

Her toes point on instinct in the very uncomfortable shoes which reminded her not to act like a child.

She presses her lips together and dims down her excitement to a gentle foot tap.

She watches the opening Opera sequence and soon the play has begun. Actors singing out their lines and an occasional cheers from the crowd.

Y/n took full advantage of moments of cheers to yell her support, knowing all the effort that goes into each play. The preparation and weeks of rehearsals.

Nearing the end of the play Y/n is fully distracted by the singing beauty, she didn't notice the quietly approaching figure behind her. A hand slowly reaching for her shoulder and suddenly grabbing it.

Y/n jumps suddenly and turns to look. An old noblmen with wine in his hand and quite drunk.

The noblmen slurs as he asks.

"Has the play started yet, Aloïs?"

Aloïs takes the mans hand off her shoulder quickly and pulls him towards him.

"Monsieur Du Beu, you're in the wrong box I'm afraid."

Y/n shakes her head and tries to focus on the Opera. After some time, Aloïs and the noblmen were still talking about business? Or something. Y/n tried to ignore it, but the chatter was too loud.

She bit her lip before deciding to slip out and closer to the stage.

"I'm going to get some fresh air." she whispers and Aloïs nods back acknowledging.

She lifts her big dress and hurries down the corridor towards the stage. The rooms were dark and very dimly lit until she saw a bright little room, calling her towards it.

She smiles once entering seeing a dressing room with many little bits of dresses and costumes.

She spots one in particular hung over a chair in the middle of the room, from the play being performed right now and smiles to herself.

She lifts the dancing dress and presses it against her body measuring.

"Perhaps they wouldn't mind if I borrowed this? Only for this dance number. No one will see me! "

She convinced herself in her excitement to dance formally again.

She quickly dresses in the dress and pulls on some dancing shoes she found with the dress. Wierd how it fit so perfectly?

She taps her toes on the ground to nuzzle her feet into each cranny comfortably.

Sneaking back out into the corridor she looks for an open space where she could preform the next dance number coming up.

It was a dance that required a partner and usually, it was only one duo dancing on center stage. No background dancers. Only the singer in the front corner.

Finally in the darkness she sees a large open room, incredibly dark but she could dance the routine there.

She smiled taking her place in the middle of the room lifting her arms and waiting for the music to echo from the stage. Something felt too perfect about this. And it turns out, she was quite right.

Suddenly, the lights go on and the curtains whoosh open to reveal the entire audience infront of her. Somehow she'd wandered right onto stage, into some kind of trap? Now she needed to preform the dance for real.

Y/n stood frozen in place, both from shock and terror from how she'd gotten herself into this mess.

The dance partner walks behind bed and moves his hand around her waist ready to start the choreography. A dance partner she had no practice time with whatsoever.

She looked up at Aloïs who looked back. He was confused, he couldn't tell if Y/n stood on stage because it was too far. So he kept watching.

The music starts and Christine is stood in the front corner, singing her musical number. Each step Y/n takes is on fire, with fear that someone would realize she's not the right dancer.

As she and this stranger dances together, she hears a deep chuckle.

"So stiff? Wondering how you possibly wandered onto stage?"

Y/n's head turns to look at the partner she'd gotten and once again she's shot with another surprise.

A white mask she'd never seen up close. But everyone knows of after the fire. The man who kidnapped Christine and set the flames ablaze.

The Phantom of the Opera was now lifting her into the air and following each step of the dance precisely.

His mask was so well blended with the costumes actors wore. No audience member would feel the need to be alert.

White mask and black sleek back hair, a thick coat and formal wear only a nobleman would wear. Y/n couldn't be sure, but she knew to some extent, it must be the Phantom.

"Phantom.."

She questioned in a whisper.

"So you do recognize me."

He confirms her suspicious and spins her round.

She stops spinning and only takes small steps on her toes. Her shock turns to anger.

"You criminal! Monster! Murderer!"

She growls and felt the need to pull away and run! But the Phantom grabs her hands and pulls her back into his chest as the dance routine commanded.

"Now, now my dear. You wouldn't want to alert anyone that you're not where you're supposed to be."

She looks at the audience and then at Aloïs before pressing her lips together into a smile.

"Are you trying to get to Christine again! Well there she is! Go get her!"

Y/n taunts with an angry glare.

She steps back throwing her body back into a dip, trusting the Phantoms arm around her wist to catch and pull her back to her feet. Following each dance step to a T.

"I'm not here for Christine."

On beat he takes her chin and moves it to look at him.

"I'm here for you."

His words deep and mysterious, but somehow Y/n believed every part of it.

She felt her body shake in fear. Her mind spun back to the fire that burnt her lover. Almost killed her, and had killed so many others that she loved. Her home burnt to ashes, causing so much pain for her to start over.

She took this oppertunity to push herself out of phantoms arms and run to the front of the stage.

"Aloïs-.."

She screamed, but she's quickly pulled back into Phantom's arms. His black gloved hand covering her mouth and nose restricting her breathing. He pulled her to the back of the stage.

Aloïs finally caught on and jumped to his feet.

"It's the Phantom of the Opera!"

His voice loud enough to echo through the quiet opera house. The music brought to a sudden halt and Christine stopped singing. Everyone starts to panic and rush to the exit.

Y/n still kicking and trying to pull Phantom's hand off her mouth, felt her vision blur and her body slowly goes limp. Knowing Y/n couldn't run, Phantom pulls Y/n against him holding her securely.

He smirks suddenly wrapping Y/n in his cloak and grabbing hold of a roap that hung at the back of the stage. Precisely placed and planned.

With a zip of a mechanism, Y/n and Phantom are pulled through the air and out of sight.

"NO! Y/N!"

Aloïs yells and suddenly runs out of the box throwing off his coat.

He rushes towards the stage with some guards following closely behind. With a slide and a turn he enters the costume room where he spotted the, big puffy blue dress Y/n wore, on the ground.

Ontop of her dress was a note and a white rose with a black bow tied around the stem.

Aloïs takes the note that read 'I remembered her. Now she is here with me, I've decided.'

Aloïs growls and crumpled the note in his hand. He turns to the soldiers and yells.

"Search the Opera house basement! Search the tavern! FIND HER! Find Y/N!"

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 12 ⬅ch.11

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | wc 3.5k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | i am sooooooooo sorry if this seems ooc for ghost. i wanted to write him acting more empathetic while also maintaining his cold demeanor. i think some people tend to write him one way or the other and so i tried to balance it a bit more to be realistic. but if this felt ooc for ghost im so sorry!! feedback is appreciated so i can improve upcoming chapters! <3

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

the startling realization that you were sleeping in simon’s room is what woke you up that following morning. you sat up in his bed, the covers falling away from your chest, and you noticed he was gone. it was strange how this was the second time you shared a bed—completely platonically—with him and he was m.i.a. come morning.

you tried not to think too deeply about it, not wanting to get your feelings hurt even more than they already were. you were able to put what had happened between the two of you in the back of your mind yesterday, squishing down his words that hurt you so badly. 

you looked good in your dress. that’s all. m’sorry.

but that was yesterday. that was when he was the first face you saw after thinking you were about to be tortured. the face that rescued you. that was when he carried you back to base, his arms around you like a safety blanket. when he was the sense of security you desperately needed. when you felt like you needed him. 

this morning, your mind was far clearer. you even realized how stupid you were to let simon be that person for you when johnny was right there. 

you scurried from his room, still draped in his shirt, and made it back to your own. you told yourself you would visit the infirmary today, not for work, but to get yourself checked out. you weren’t hurt too badly, nothing that couldn’t heal with a little time. but still, you should really get checked over. and you were sure laswell or price would want to have a word with you about everything that happened. 

before you even managed to shift through your thoughts, johnny was at your door.

“how’re ya feelin’?” 

you grabbed your toiletries bag and spun to face to scot. “i’m okay.”

he gave you a once over. “are you sure?” he said a bit softer.

you gave him a gentle smile. “don’t worry, i’m just going to shower. then straight to the infirmary to get checked out.” you gave him a mock salute. 

johnny shook his head as he followed you out your door and down the hall towards the showers. “no, not that.” you glanced at him. “well, no, of course i wanted to make sure you were gonna be seen by a medic, but i was referring to the… psychological side of things.”

you laughed at his phrasing. “i’ll be okay, johnny. seriously. i mean, i know what happened terrified me and hasn’t left my thoughts since, but i could be a lot worse.” you were trying to make light of the situation. and while johnny understood that all too well, he still wasn’t convinced you were truly back to normal just a day after your kidnapping. 

you were taken a bit back. for once, soap didn’t seem to appreciate your humor. “and with ghost?” 

you almost dropped your bag, stumbling in your steps. “w-what about him?” 

“i saw him carrying you into base. the way ya clung to him. i just want t’make sure you’re okay.” his eyes trailed the shirt you were wearing—'swimming in' was more accurate—knowing it wasn't yours, but ghost's.

you sighed before spinning to face him. you wanted to make this very clear to soap: “he was the first person i saw. he was the one i saw close on my tail when i was trapped in that truck. he was the face who barged into that room after slaughtering men, pulling me out of that hole. i think i was just overwhelmed and felt like i needed him . y’know… a safety thing. but that has passed. i’m fine. fine .” soap raised a brow, not quite believing you. “nothing happened,” you said a bit bashful, noticing the way soap was staring at you like he thought more had gone down last night, and wearing ghost's shirt sure wasn't helping. “he just kept me company so i could fall asleep without thinking about…” your words trailed off. “point is, i appreciate you looking out for me, but i’m okay. i won’t let him…” a beat of silence passed as you looked for the words. “i won’t read things wrong again.” the sentence was a struggle to get out; like ash on your tongue.

you could see the concern on johnny’s face, so before he could protest and pry more, you slipped into the women’s showers so he couldn’t follow.

after showering and visiting the infirmary—-yes, you have been cleared—-you were making your way to price’s office. you assumed laswell would be there as well. 

you adjusted your black shirt as you strolled the halls, careful to not move in any way that would hurt your sore ribs. you walked past the gym, peeking in to see if you could spot gaz, surprised he hadn’t come to see you yet, and you almost choked on your spit.

you spotted simon—- ghost—- across the room in workout gear, addressing a new recruit. you hadn’t recognized her but you knew there were new recruits coming in this week so you assumed her to be one of them. 

you tried to pull your eyes away, but they were latched on to the tall brute and the shorter woman beside him. ghost hunched over slightly as he spoke to her and you saw her smile. her hand reached out and touched his arm softly and you felt your fists clench. 

ghost wasn’t yours . 

he was barely even your friend. he could flirt with whoever he wanted. it shouldn’t matter to you. and you knew you were overreacting. who's to say they were flirting? you hadn’t known ghost to be the best charmer, so why would he all of a sudden be cozying up to a woman he only just met?

soap’s words popped into your head: come to think of it. i don’t think i’ve known ghost to have hooked up with anyone since i’ve met the bastard.

all these rational thoughts and yet you ignored them. all you felt was a pang in your gut as you watched him instruct her, testing her skills, his hand lingering on her hip a bit too long. his eyes locked on hers. 

you didn’t feel any tears welling—so that was an improvement—all you felt was disappointment. ghost was emotionally unavailable. he also explicitly said he didn’t want you. this fantasy you had of him in your head was purely that: a fantasy. 

you had thought maybe he felt differently with the way his eyes traced your curves last night in the light of the bathroom. that maybe him letting you see him with his mask off was him letting you in. that he wanted to form some sort of relationship with you even if it was foreign to him.

but all of those thoughts went out the door. there were so many reasons why it would never work between the two of you. seeing him with that woman wasn’t what made you feel that way. all it did was remind you of the reality of your situation.

you sulked into price’s office, the smell of cigars filling your nose.

price’s warm greeting, his gentle smile, and his all-over fatherly presence set you back at ease. 

when laswell entered, her soothing hand on your shoulder reminded you that you could live so fucking easily without ghost. you had a family here. and while you had hoped to let ghost become one of those people to you, it wasn’t the end of the world by any means if he didn’t.

a week had passed and you had resorted to pretending like anything private that ever happened between you and ghost had never occurred. you weren’t going to sulk over him any longer. you thought he was attractive. that was it. you hooked up once and it didn’t work out. you were an adult, you could move on. 

you laughed animatedly at soap, grabbing his arm in your fit. ghost spotted you across the training room, your laughter floating over into his space, pissing him off.

he expected you to have wanted to talk to him after that night in his room. but you never did. you never sought him out. never came by to let him know everything at the infirmary checked out okay. granted, he never came after you either. 

he got up when he saw you leaving and followed you out the door. 

“iaso,” he called.

you stopped and spun to face him, smiling. “what’s up, lt.?” 

ghost was a bit taken aback by your friendly demeanor. not that you weren’t a friendly person, but you were acting oddly like nothing ever happened. like ghost hadn’t pulled you into his arms a week ago, his chest pounding and his arms shaking as he held you.

“jus’ wanted to see if you were okay,” he said dumbly.

“all good. don’t worry, i’ve been cleared to be back to work.” you smiled then turned and walked away.

ghost had never been left so dumbfounded before. he cracked his knuckles in annoyance.

you seemed to be ignoring him. 

whenever ghost entered a room you were in, you’d leave. he saw you linking arms with soap as you walked the halls, never meeting ghost’s eyes. he knew soap was visiting you in the infirmary on your breaks and he always seemed awkward when it came up between them. you even managed to get out of a poker session where ghost was present. you had stood up the second he walked into that room, calling it a night and tossing your cards in the middle of the table.

“she’s ignoring me,” ghost huffed as he shuffled through the dossiers on his desk. he was acting like he had any claim over you. like he had a right to your friendship.

“who?” soap asked. ghost looked up and glared at his friend. “i think you give yourself too much credit. she’s not ignoring you, lt. she’s just accepted your rejection and moved on with her life.”

“i didn’t reject her.”

soap rolled his eyes. “you really wanna go down that road?” 

ghost mumbled in annoyance as he stared at the words on the paper before him. 

“didn’t think you’d care, if i’m being honest.”

ghost glared at soap, waiting for him to elaborate since he clearly wanted to further this conversation.

“ her opinion of you ,” soap clarified. “you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing from her, so i just assumed that meant you wouldn’t be bothered by her ignoring you n’all.” 

ghost tapped his pen on his desk. “so she is ignoring me, then.”

“i didn’t say that.”

ghost knew he couldn’t fight logistics with soap, with soap being… soap and all. “we have actual shit t’go over. important intel before we depart friday.” 

soap slipped into the chair in front of ghost’s desk. “you started it.” 

“i didn’t—- bloody hell ,” he grumbled rubbing his hand over his face. soap tried to hold back his smirk. 

“y’know she’s coming with us,” soap said, referencing the mission soon to happen in the coming days based on the information the men had acquired from valeria. 

“well aware,” ghost said flatly. 

the idea of you being forced to be in ghost’s proximity tomorrow, knowing you couldn’t avoid it like you had been, made his chest swell slightly. he didn’t want to admit this to himself, but he wanted you to want him. desperately . and hearing soap talk about you, always seeing the two of you together, ghost felt like he was pushing you straight into his friend’s arms. 

he should have been okay with that. whether he found you attractive or not, he shouldn’t have felt jealous when he saw you with soap. he’s found plenty of women attractive, and plenty of them were involved with someone else. that usually didn’t bother ghost at all. he was fine admiring pretty ladies knowing they would never be his. he didn’t want them to be his. so this resentment he was feeling towards soap was new to him. 

he unclenched his fist. 

“jus’ wanna make sure you’re gonna behave yourself,” soap chimed. 

“christ, johnny. i’m not—”

soap cut him off. “i’m serious, lt. i know i don’t have this kind of authority, but she doesn’t deserve whatever it is that's going on inside your twisted head.” soap gestured widely at ghost, implying he was all sorts of messed up. “i’d die protecting her. and if it means i’d have to die in your clutches, then so be it.”

ghost refrained from rolling his eyes and soap’s dramatics. though, he did admire soap’s loyalty. 

shifting the conversation away from you, ghost debriefed soap on prep for the coming mission, letting him know— almost —everything planned. 

it was late when ghost spotted you. you didn’t see him as he stalked you around the bend of the hallway.

finally, you were alone. not linking arms with soap or laughing with gaz. you were alone as you walked through the halls of the barracks. if you had known ghost would have spotted you, you would have likely stayed in your room. but you had no idea the masked man was trailing behind you. 

ghost hadn't been planning on talking to you, irate by the way you’ve been ignoring him, but when he saw you, his feet moved on their own accord. the hall lights flickered, creating an ominous glow. he surmised you were heading back to the infirmary even though he knew your shift was already over. maybe you forgot something?

and then one of ghost’s steps was a tad too loud because you looked over your shoulder and he watched as your eyes widened momentarily. you scrunched up your nose and faced forward, your pace increasing. “are you following me?”

“this is my quarters jus’ as much as it is yours,” he grunted. 

you rolled your eyes. “well… it's plenty big enough. you could always go a different way.”

“still not talkin’ to me, then?”

you could sense him catching up and it made the hackles on your neck rise. “what’re you—”

“i know you’ve been ignoring me. don’t try t’lie your way outta this.”

you turned around and began to walk backward so you could face him when you spoke. “i’m not really in the mood to have this conversation right now.” you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“well, good thing i wasn’t askin’.”

your mouth parted in surprise at his bluntness. you quickly spun on your heels, not wanting the emotions you had been shoving down for the past week to come back up. if you could just avoid him a little longer, you’d be able to move on. if he would only just—

in your nerves, you reached a dead end of one of the many barren halls. you were going to turn and scurry past him, not even wanting to grab your bag you left in the infirmary any longer, you just wanted to get away from him. but before you had the chance, ghost’s arms were on either side of your head, hands flat against the wall, caging you into his chest. your back was to him and your only view was the blank drywall. the corner he had you trapped in was dark and you figured even if you did spin to face the beast behind you, you wouldn’t be able to make much of him out. you hated that a swirl of arousal filled your stomach remembering him being this close to you in that tiny closet he shoved the two of you into all those weeks ago. 

“ghost, i don’t wanna—”

“ simon ,” he said a little aggressively. 

you gulped, his words grazing the edge of your neck as he spoke. you were quiet as you waited for him to say more. “you sure you’re ready to go back out on location?” he asked, referring to the upcoming mission you were going to be a part of. 

“is that it? you’re worried i’m broken or some shit like that?” your words screamed irritation, but your voice sounded more hurt than angry. “that i don’t know my own limits and can’t decide when i’m good to be back? that i’ll slow you down? i told you i was cleared!” you knew you were inferring a lot from his one little sentence, but you wanted to be mad. to be angry at him. 

“i didn’t say that.”

“no. but it’s what you meant.”

you heard ghost sigh and his hands dropped down to his side. you felt the warmth of his chest still behind you so you didn’t dare move to look at him.

“i know what it’s like t’lose everyone you love,” he started. 

“what does that have to do with any—-?”

“would you jus’ shut up for one second n’ listen for once?” 

you swallowed hard and nodded your head. he let out a breath. he knew he had snapped at you, but this was difficult for him. he wanted to get this out before he second-guessed himself and let you walk away forever. 

“i lost my entire family to men a lot more evil than me. did everythin’ in my power to get revenge. so i know what it’s like to love and t’lose.”

“did it help?” you asked softly. “revenge?”

you could hear the tension in ghost’s words as he mumbled them behind you. the only reason he was able to answer this question was due to the fact that you were turned away from him. if you two had been looking into each other’s eyes… he didn’t think he’d have to ability to open up. “depends how ya look at it. that kind’a dedication to death—never stoppin’ till you feel blood on your hands—takes a toll on ya. i think it’s what made me so… unbearable. but the general doesn’t seem t’think so. made me a stronger soldier in shepherd’s eyes.”

you felt your breath waver as you listened. 

“i wouldn’t have jus’ killed for them, i woulda died. it was years ago now that i was captured on duty. was tortured. buried alive. locked up. abused.” simon cleared his throat. “think it made me unwillin’ to let people in , as you would word it. i don’t know if i could survive another loss like that, like when i lost my mother and brother. s’not a feelin’ i ever plan on livin’ through again.”

“simon…”

“and you, ” he said a bit more potently. “you have been messin’ everythin’ up. when you n’ laswell were taken… it felt like when i saw my brother and his wife dead on their living room floor. the only thing i saw was red. i woulda done anything t’get you back. i couldn’t let this happen again. i couldn’t fail the people i cared about again.”

it pained you to know that simon placed all the blame on anything bad happening to those around him on himself. “laswell, too?” you said, but more as a question. you were purposefully trying to avoid the romantic ideation behind his words.

“no,” he said immediately, without a second thought. “course i wanted her back. but it didn’t feel the same as the way i wanted you.”

i wanted you . those words made your chest tighten. 

“why are you telling me all this?” you finally asked after a lull. 

“i jus’ wanted you t’know that i don’t mean t’hurt you. that maybe i needa try harder. and that… i’m sorry.”

you felt a single tear escape and slide down your cheek. you took a moment to steady your breathing, trying to reel in all of simon’s words.

when you spun to face him, unsure of what you’d find in his expression, you gasped. he was gone. you didn’t even hear him as he took off down the hall with your back still to him. 

eventually, walking alone back to your room, you let the tears fall freely. you cried for simon’s past. for his losses. for your own losses. for the strange sense of love you felt radiating off of him as he told you he’d move the world just to get you back safely. for the stupid feelings you had brewing in your chest. for the way you couldn’t decide if you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or if you wanted to hold him as he told you more. 

simon felt like he couldn’t let someone else in. that he wouldn’t survive it. but you wouldn’t leave him if he did. and you needed to tell him that. you needed to show him that he might be a bit broken, lost from his path, but you’d help him find the light again, as cheesy as that sounded. you would show him how beautiful it was to love even after losing so much. that it was possible. he deserved to be loved. he deserved to be happy. he wasn’t some emotionless robot, no matter what the army thought of him. and you wanted to help him realize that. 

chapter 13 ➡

[carlsangel]

DON’T BE SORRY

carl grimes x reader

(carl comforts you.)

tags: angst, fluff.

masterlist here!

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM, DEATH

You used to feel so alone, so empty. Like nothing could fill the pit in your heart where you stored the love from your family. They were everything to you, losing them made you feel endless pain that would never go away. You couldn’t cope with it all, you only felt pure affliction.

The one way you knew how to cope was something you had to hide, at least you felt that way. You didn’t know what to do without your family, you’d felt like somehow it was all your fault. Maybe you could’ve done something, be more useful and actually save them. Maybe it wasn’t helpful to take it out on yourself instead of putting the anger towards what actually killed your family, the walkers. You couldn’t help it though. You truly felt you killed your family.

It occurred to you that maybe the last thing you’d need in this world was to inflict more pain on yourself but it had somehow made you feel better, like you were getting what you deserved. You could get by a while without hurting yourself but occasionally situations would happen that reminded you of everything.

There was one time in particular that really got to you. You were tracking a deer for a while, granted tracking wasn’t your best strong suit but you thought you’d give it a shot. You followed it for hours. You successfully shot it and it ran but it didn’t get far. When you got to it, it was taken down by a swarm of walkers. It just looked too much like when the same thing happened to your family. You burst into tears and ran.

It was a common thing for this to happen but one day, someone saved you from the swarm. He came in with a couple others and they took them down for you and invited you back to their settlement. You almost wanted to say no. You didn’t want to risk caring for more people, losing them and then pay the price for that loss.

The boy who saved you was named Carl, he was your age and he quickly became your best friend, eventually your boyfriend. He managed to make you feel okay about everything. He told you how it wasn’t your fault, that you shouldn’t blame yourself for the death of your family. He was so gentle with the way he treated and loved you. There’s nothing he loved more than gently kissing around your body but you made it a point to him to not kiss your arms, you tended to pull away.

You didn’t want him to know, you were worried of what he’d think of you. He never gave you a reason to believe he’d be angry at you or anything like that but you were still nervous about it. He never wanted to pry as to why you didn’t want him kissing your arms because he respected you enough to not mention it unless you did.

You never planned on telling him, but you didn’t want him to find out either. Unfortunately, when he did find out, it wasn’t on your own terms.

“Hey wake up.” Carl pokes at you while you were sleeping peacefully in your bed (you guys had nightly sleepovers.) You pry your eyes open and look up at him, sort of giving him a mean look for waking you up. “Cranky.” He says, looking down at you with a cute little smile. “Yeah cranky. I’m so sleepy.” You sit up and yawn while he walks around the room. “We have to go check the snares my dad put out yesterday. He’s hoping for rabbits.” Carl explains, grabbing clothes from your closet and tossing them at you.

“Rabbits? For what?” You stand up slowly, stretching out your limbs. “Uhh I think Carol wants to make some stew. I dunno.” He replies briefly. You finish up changing and arm yourself with a handgun as well as a large knife. You both head out to go check the snares. The first two you checked were empty, which made sense since Rick set them out late last night in clearer areas.

When you get to the last snare, the both of you were pleased to find out that it caught a larger rabbit. You unlatch it and pack it away. “Carol’s gonna be excited. I know she’s been wanting to make stew for a while-” You were cut off by the sound of guttural screams coming from somewhere deep in the forest. There was no doubt you’d follow them to help whoever it was.

You and Carl ran through the woods, following the screams with your guns in hand. The screams get louder and louder as you approach and you pray that you’ll be able to save them. When you reach them, it was too late. The man was already on the floor, being ripped to shreds by the undead. Carl was with you, but somehow that didn’t seem to help this time. You remember your family, you couldn’t save this man just like you couldn’t save them. You run off back home, not even taking the walkers out, not waiting for Carl.

You go home in tears, you walk up the stairs not acknowledging anyone else who lived in the house because you simply couldn’t look at anyone. You change your clothes to try and distract from the pain of it all and blink your tears away. You stand for a moment trying to navigate what exactly to do next but your mind strays to one solution. You walk over to your dresser and dig to the bottom where you kept a little box. The little box where you kept razors. Every time Carl looked for clothes for you, you were worried he’d find it. He never did.

You grab the box and contemplate for a moment. Did you want to do this? It’s been a while since you last indulged but something about this time was different. You head over to the bathroom and shut the door. You breathe heavily, thinking about the man. His life ended because you didn’t run fast enough. Your mind was made up.

You sit on the edge of the tub and set the box of razors on the toilet lid. You open it and take one out, looking at it while wiping your tears away. You slide your sleeve down a little and stare at the scars from past times you’d done this before. You go for it, but are interrupted by the sound of voices downstairs. You listen for a moment before putting the blade back up to your arm. Before you know it, Carl bursts into the bathroom.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry-” He looks at you and the blade in your hands as you scramble to put it away and hide the box. “N-no I’m sorry I shouldn’t be…” Your voice trails off as you try to find the words to explain yourself. “Don’t be sorry.” He walks closer to you and kneels so he can see you better. He takes off his hat and places it on the counter. He rests his hands on your knees as he looks at you with pure love.

“Is that why you don’t like the kisses?” He lifts his hand up to wipe the tears from your face. He holds your cheek delicately and you nod into his hand. More tears roll down your face and he leans in closer to kiss them away. “They told me you were upset.” He says, referring to the Alexandrians you lived with. “It was the man, wasn’t it?” He holds your hands, gripping them tightly. You nod once more. He pulls your hand up to kiss them. “That’s not your fault. None of this is your fault okay? I promise you, I’d never lie to you.” He murmurs, kissing your hands between each sentence. You knew he was being honest, he always was. Carl never beat around the bush, but he was never brutally honest, he was always soft with you.

“Can I…?” He gestures to your arms and looks to you for approval. You look at him and hesitate but nod, sniffling a bit. He rolls your sleeve down slowly and he looks at you before leaning down to place soft kisses over your scars. Didn’t leave a single one un-kissed. He pulled the sleeve down your other arm and repeats the process. Every single scar was kissed. He always knew how to make you feel loved. He looks at you and studies your face like he’s done thousands of times before. He leans up to kiss your nose, then your forehead and then your cheek.

Carl leans forward and hugs you tightly. He sits there and tells you how much he loves you over and over.

Now, your heart feels fuller than ever.

a/n: i hope i did this well, i really like it even though i’ve never written a fic like this before. it took me a while to get out bc i really did my research for it to make it best i could. i also had a ton of school stuff to deal with. thank you anon for the request <3 my inbox is nowww empty so if you guys want plsss send some requests.

[timetravellibrarian]

Sanji x Reader

Sanji x reader

No gender mentioned. Reminiscing about years together. - Fluff

____________________________________

"Drink?" 

"Same as usual,darlin' ."

Your eyes went to the blonde cook as he unlocked the hundreds of locks  on the fridge. A mechanism to keep Luffy away.

His hair perfectly framed his face, eyes illuminated by the dim light that the curtains let through from outside. You were yet to feel their fluff to your touch once more. Look into those eyes that let you merely a glimpse into his world. Your world.

The Thousand Sunny swayed along with the waves as it was moved by the sea current. It was quiet. Too quiet. This was the second day the crew had docked onto an island. Everyone was out  exploring, shopping, some getting lost. Yet here you two were, guarding the ship. That's what you're telling yourselves anyway.

"Sanji."

"Mm?" He poured your drink into a glass, careful not to spill before placing it back on the counter as though expecting you to probably have a second helping.

"When did it all go wrong?" The feel of the cold beverages cooling down your insides from the days heat gave you a clearer mind. More in tune to every subtle change in his expression and his body language. "How is it still standing?"

"I don't know,my love..."

It felt like only yesterday, back when you had just met at the Baratie.  Laughing alongside Nami, Ussop and Zoro as we made fun of Luffy's unfortunate state. Laughs filling the space around you with a peaceful atmosphere.

The feel of eyes on you was intense, no longer just feeling like the passing glances other guests had done when there was a disruption. You turned,eyes meeting with a blue-eyed waiter with a curly eyebrows, standing in the distance and eyes turning into hearts at the sight of your smile.

The rest became a world of vivid, colourful adventures together.

Strangers.

Friends.

Lovers.

More.

Hands seeking to hold onto each other in large crowds and even just everywhere we went. Bodies flush against each other in the comfort of your bed as you slept. Limbs entangled together in a dance of love in a dimly lit room with flower petals and candlelight as lips as your actions showed more than what your words could convey.

Late nights talking under a blanket of stars. Stories told of lost childhoods and inconsolable tears. Hardships: fights, near death experiences, life itself.

When you thought you could finally have a break and enjoy your time with your beloved at Sabaody, you were more than just proved wrong when you found yourself separated from your crew. From the love of your life.

Two years.

Two whole years.

How could one not change? Adapt to the scraps that life has offered.

Now your eyes met with ones that had changed but somehow remained the same.

"...but I do know one thing." His hand gently lead you off the chair, the both of you standing in the middle of the galley with your head on his shoulder and his eyes staring hopefully at the ring that had promised more for the future. The same hand in his as you swayed around to the sound of everything and nothing.

"It all went wrong when I saw you at the Baratie. Do you remember,my love?" His lips brushed over the shell of your ear as you swayed to your heart's music.

You nodded, still taking him in. His presence, his voice, his scent. Committing everything to memory. So I don't lose my mind when you're gone.

"That was when I knew..." That was when I knew you were my eternity. Funnily enough, that old geezer knew before him.

[xxresi-rotxx]

Avoiding You- L.S. Kennedy (pt. 1)

Warnings: Angst, self-doubt, insecurity (only a bit), heartache 

Summary: You thought you & Leon were on the same page, so you went for it...turns out he didn’t feel the way you thought... 

(This was definitely supposed to be posted yesterday, but my fiancé took me out to the country to see cows and I had no service😂😭the cows were def worth it tho 👀❤️)

Word Count: 1.9k

Part 2

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How were you going to avoid him? It wasn’t going to be easy seeing as you were both posted on the same mission right now. Ughhh how could you have misread him so wrong?? You were sure he had feelings for you. He would always insist on being your partner on missions, he would flirt with you endlessly, he was always just there. 

You tried to take your mind out of the situation for a minute. Was he babying you? Was that it? Not that he wanted to spend time with you, but that he felt it necessary to go with you for the mission to run smoothly? Was he just mocking you all those times you thought he was flirting? 

You couldn’t think about it any longer. You were beyond embarrassed. You tried to kiss him and he pulled away, no need for a clearer sign of him not liking you that way. The embarrassment wasn’t the worst part though. Your heartache hurt much, much worse. 

You actually hadn’t seen him since. You’d requested to be debriefed alone, took watch opposite the time he did, and every time you’d catch a glimpse of that dirty blonde hair, you’d go in any other direction. 

It was obvious to Leon that you were avoiding him and doing a pretty damn good job of it too. Probably for the best at this point, he wasn’t even sure what he would say to you. 

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It had been three days of you successfully avoiding Leon when a wrench got thrown into your plans. There was a break in the mission, and everyone stationed with you had to be present for the current debriefing. 

You sat on the folding chair arms crossed, and legs extended out in front of you, boots covered in dirt. You kept your eyes trained on your boots, not bothering to look up when anyone entered the tent, for fear of making direct eye contact with Leon. 

You recognized his boots anywhere and your body froze waiting for them to pass you. You swear you saw a slight hesitation in his step as he walked by you, but at this point you could have imagined it. You didn’t really trust your mind anymore when it came to Leon. 

He noticed the way you kept your head down the whole time people were coming in and wished that you didn’t. He hadn’t missed the fact that it’d been three days since he saw you, and by the looks of it after this meeting he’d go back to not seeing you again. 

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The debriefing dragged on. You had been zoned out most of the time, only paying attention when you heard key words that pertained to you. Your ears perked up at the mention of a certain name. 

“We’re sending Leon out on this one, if that’s alright with you agent.”

Did they really just saw the name you thought you heard? Why would we ever be trusting enough to work with her?

“Fine by me.”

God even his voice hurt you; it was so deep and smooth, no trace of anything but confidence. Something you had been lacking the past few days and it made you furious. 

You trained yourself early on that your mind was the strongest tool you could have in a job like this, if your mind went then so did you. You were a good shot, had fast reflexes, and were overall a pretty nice person. You never gave much time to insecurities; you were pretty enough by your own definition and were confident in your abilities as an agent. But lately? All you could do was drown in your own thoughts. 

Were you not a good enough agent? Were you too boring? Too short? Not busty enough? It was killing you. It had become your minds constant priority to figure out why he didn’t want to kiss you back and now that they were sending Leon out to meet with Ada...your mind wouldn’t shut up. 

It was no secret to the whole department that Leon had history with Ada. They were both raccoon city survivors no matter what way you looked at it. 

Was she Leon’s type? An obvious red flag, toxic, double-crossing bitch? At least that’s how you categorized her. 

Your heartache was starting to morph into jealousy at the thought of Leon being with Ada in such close proximity to you. 

It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter.  

You kept that mantra in your head, maybe if you said it enough you could convince yourself that it really didn’t matter. 

As soon as the debriefing was over you were the first one to get up and leave. 

You didn’t have to patrol today, or investigate, or do anything really besides stay on alert thank God. 

You grabbed your shotgun and a full box of ammo and made off for the trees. You had an overwhelming urge to prove yourself and shut your brain up. 

You were a good agent, a good person, and a damn good shot. You were determined to remind yourself of that and fuck Leon Kennedy if he didn’t think so. 

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You had been shooting for the better half of the day. Deciding to call it quits when you had depleted all of your ammo and saw the sun begin to set.

You were a good mile away from the base when you heard the faint crunch of what sounded like footsteps. You threw your shotgun around your back and jumped up just enough to grab the nearest branch to you. Quickly pulling your body weight up and doing the same thing over again until you were high enough up you were sure you were out of sight. 

Quietly cursing yourself for not bringing a better precision weapon with you. 

It had been what felt like ten minutes, and you hadn’t heard another sound since. Maybe whoever it was heard you too?

You’d decided it was safe enough for you to get down from the tree and begin walking again and you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

You wished you hadn’t seen it, fuck how you wished you hadn’t seen it. 

At the edge of the trees right before the clearing you saw him.

Back against one of the trees with Ada up against him. Unless the information we needed was in her mouth, you were pretty sure this wasn’t part of his mission. 

Why did this shit have to hurt so much? Maybe it was the realization he really never saw you this way. You put yourself out there and got rejected and now you realized why. If that was his type, you never stood a chance. 

You kept on your path back to base, not bothering to look behind you. 

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A week had passed since you saw Leon kissing Ada and the only thing that’s changed is your shot. Near perfect with your shotgun now, so at least you had that going for you. 

Everything else was still the same. Your heart fucking ached, you’ve avoided the man at all costs, and this mission was nowhere near over. 

You had gathered some pretty good intel though and were feeling rather confident about one of your leads. 

You were about to enter your superior's tent when his voice had you frozen...again. 

“I’ll let you know when I come into contact sir.” 

“It shouldn’t be taking this long Kennedy, any longer and we aren’t going to need whatever it is she says she has.” 

Were they talking about Ada? You were unfortunately positive Leon had come into contact with her. 

Feeling a little more confident in yourself you decided not to bother waiting outside the tent. 

“Captain” you greeted upon entering, “Kennedy” you greeted upon making eye contact with the son of a bitch. This was the first time in almost ten days that you had finally come face to face with him, and it did nothing to help the burning in your chest. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say his first name.

“Yes Y/N what is it? We’re done here Leon” your captain spoke dismissing Leon.

“I have a lead I’d like to follow sir, according to my intel it should be quite lucrative.” 

“What lead?” You turned your head around to see Leon, half outside the tent and half inside, as if your words had halted his movement. 

You turned your attention back to your captain before proceeding. 

“All due respect sir, I’d like to keep this information from as many ears as I can.” 

With that Leon was fully back inside now, not only inside but right beside you. 

“Leon’s the best agent we have Y/N,” your captain spoke, painfully reminding you of the obvious “I’m sure he’d be a help to you. Continue.” 

“Alright,” you glanced at your captain & then at Leon, who’s eyes looked deadly as he focused them on you, “long story short I know where the bioweapons are being kept. I’d like to check out this lead sir.” 

“Where did you get a lead like that?” Leon interjected. 

Your blood was boiling now. Couldn’t he just leave you alone? Didn’t he get he was the last person you wanted to see? Not like he’d care either way, but did he have to question your judgement when it came to the mission now? 

“I have my sources Kennedy.” 

“Kennedy now?” He scoffed. 

“It is your last name is it not?”

You held his eye contact, refusing to back down on this. 

“Permission granted agent.” You turned your head back to your captain, thrilled he was giving you the green light. “You both are dismissed.” 

You pushed passed Leon who refused to get out of your way and left the tent. Heading back to yours to get prepared for tonight. That’s when you’d make your move and check out this lead. 

“Hey hold up!” Leon grabbed your wrist and pulled slightly, forcing you to turn around and look at him. “Where the hell did you get a lead like this?”

“Relax” you pulled your wrist out of his grip “I’ve followed protocol, I haven’t jeopardized anything.” 

“That isn’t what I asked Y/N.” You noticed how tight his jaw was and how tense he seemed to look; did he hate you now? Was that it?

“I heard what you said Kennedy, and I’m not justifying it with an answer.”

You began to walk away only for him to follow you. 

“And why the hell not? Did you seriously lose trust in me because of what happened almost two weeks ago?” He spat. 

No. He did not have a right to be angry about that. 

“I lost trust in you Leon when I saw you gathering information from someone you claimed you haven’t made contact with yet!” You spat right back at him, noting the way his face changed into a look of shock at the fact you saw him that night.

You needed to reign yourself in, this wasn’t good. You were pissed, beyond pissed, and normally when your emotions got the better of you, they ALL got the better of you and you’d be damned to cry in front of this man now. 

Before you might have, but now? Never. 

You turned back around and continued on your way back to your tent, not bothering to notice that Leon hadn’t moved an inch. 

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Why am I having so much fun writing this?! Part two is going to be more exciting I promise 😘

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could you do a Astarion x Tiefling Reader were they are sitting alone underneath there tents canopy in and they are sewing to pass the time humming and doesn't notice Astarion walk up after he was looking for them . ( they could be making something for him maybe for his 'birthday' after learning that it was that day ) .

omg sorry i took so long but my creativity juices flow in funny ways ahah.. to make it a little easier for me, since my tiny brain has been having a hard time in putting words down, i thought it would have been nice to tie this up with a oneshot i wrote a few weeks ago.. i wish i followed better your prompt- though i hope you'll like it.

Ofc reading the part before this won't change the experience, but it was nice to tie them together cause it gave a little continuity and idk anyways i hope you'll like it though it's mostly introspective and a lil angsty when astarion shows up..

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Masterlist.

Part 1. (the one shot i tied this to)

My prompt list for requests.

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird (i forgot to add it yesterday cause im an idiot, but better late than never ahah)

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Golden.

Pairing: astarion x GN!tiefling!reader

Summary: the huge tear in his shirt caught your eye again, and you decided to give him a reminder that someone cared about him.

Genre: angsty?, lots of thinking, self-doubt, avoidance✨

You never noticed the tears carefully patched up on Astarion’s shirt until you were retrieving your dried clothes from the fire.

His button up sat up ripped on the stone like you left it on the night before, yet you still couldn’t help but focus on the smaller sewn tears already covering the fabric. It was such a precise job, that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that the fabric was ever broken until you looked closely and the places where the thread was tightly pulled became clearer.

You made a mental note of it as you walked back to your tent, holding up the bundle of yours and Astarion’s clothes.

The camp was lively that morning: yelling, singing, clattering of bottles and pans, along with rustling of the leaves had saturated the air, charging it with an electrifying energy.

In the middle of the chaos, your brain still stirred towards Astarion and the way you woke up curled up in his side, while he was meditating.

The tension that filled the tent the night before was gone. The only thing left from the night before was the ghost of his bite on your neck, and his body holding you to him.

When he broke his trance, he acted like nothing ever happened. Like you didn’t sleep twisted with him, or the way he drove you insane the night before.

You could still feel his lips on your neck as you collected your sewing kit from the tent, which still smelled like him, blood and bergamot.

As you spread the shirt on your lap, you could relive the events of the night before like a bard stuck on encore after encore.

You could feel the warmth of your bodies pressed to each other still spreading over your skin as you carefully prepared the essential to fix the tear.

You studied the tear that spread over the back, you knew it was going to be hard to make it seem flawless like the rest of them, but you wanted to attempt for him.

Worst case scenario, it was gonna stay broken anyways.

As you started to work on the tear, and you noticed how the uneven edges were not coming out nicely, an idea spurred in your mind.

At worst you were already planning on buying him a new one when you reached Baldur’s Gate. You had connections in the lower city, and you knew you could get a tailor to make the same button up if you brought a reference.

You worked on the shirt for what felt like hours, while everyone was enjoying their day, whether they took care of chores around camp or disappeared for walks, but as everyone came and left, the only one you had not seen was Astarion.

It was only when the sun was starting to set that you finally spotted him near his tent as he was looking for something in his bag.

You were just done with the shirt, and you couldn't help but hope he liked it.

You folded the shirt carefully along with the rest of his clothes, and as you were ready to head towards Astarion, he already stood in front of you.

His face was unreadable like he wanted to convey a specific emotion, but couldn't figure out how to. He was tense, his arms were frozen at his sides, so you decided to break the ice.

“I did this for you” You carefully showed him the pile of his neatly folded clothes, and his shirt on top.

“I wanted to fix your shirt, but the tear was too-” You started but before you could explain, Astarion had stopped you almost harshly.

“You didn't have to”He said briefly, it sounded mostly like an admonishment, yet you could have sworn there was some sort of softness to it. 

“I know, but I wanted to” 

“Why?” His furrowed brows were inquisitive, trying to gauge your intentions as he wetted his lips. 

“Cause I care about you, I literally told you yesterday” The words slipped out of your lips just as quickly as your tail was swishing nervously.

He scoffed, folding his arms and turning his eyes away from you. “No one does things for free” You could tell there was something odd from him, as if he was trying to bury something under this indifference he was trying to put up now.

“Count this as a gift then” You jutted your chin towards him and invited him to take the clothes still in your arms.

He was taken aback by the simplicity with which you said those words, almost carelessly, and most of all to the person that deserved them the least, especially how hard he was being with you.

He wanted to quip back but you resumed your explanation before he could even think of a response and he wanted to hate it so much. 

“As I was saying, I tried to fix the tear, but it didn't want to look nice, so I embroidered the shirt with a gold pattern” You explained as you pointed at the button up. Astarion was so focused on shielding himself that he didn’t even look at his clothes, she could have gave him one of her shirts for what he knew and he would have not realized it until he would be in his tent. 

His eyes finally fell on the piece of clothing his mouth fell slightly open. He traced the golden thread carefully, as if it was a creation of his sick mind. “I hope it’s not too much.”You trailed off, your words were warm, almost sticking to his skin like glue. He wanted to shake them off himself, he wanted to yell that he didn’t deserve such attentions, that you were an idiot to do all of this for someone that had planned to use you, but it was like something in his body stopped him from screaming and lashing out at you, the only thing he could manage to do was the simple task he gave himself in the morning.

“I came here to thank you for last night, and for your kindness” He started with a honeyed voice. “But I suppose I have one more thing to add to the list” He clutched the bundle of clothes to his chest, tipping his head forward in thank you.

[justenjoythegossip]

CHRIS & ABBA’S LATEST PR STUNT & THE VISIBLE ENDGAME OF THE PR STRATEGY or… “WILL YOU JUST GET OVER IT ALREADY? IT HAS BEEN TWO FREAKING YEARS”…

Recap of recent events: 

Yesterday was the premiere of Red One in Berlin. Go Germany. Chris didn’t walk the red carpet before Dwayne as he was supposed to, arrived late with his wife, walked the carpet (after almost missing it) without her, played with the precious very ostentatiously for the cameras, she and Chris shared a moment together as they hugged and she gave him a look of... disgust(?). Then they were filmed sitting together for the movie and Chris seemed angry/pissed(?) at her as he gestures, seemingly does a nervous tick by pressing on his glasses and she rolls her head… #couplegoals LOL

Side note: kudos to the PR agent sitting next to Abba for her clapping as it seemingly helped indicate to her she was supposed to applaud her loving husband and also served as miraculous blocking from this angle, to show us only what they want us to see. 

She was always going to be there…

I have been asked many times if I thought Abba would show up at the premiere. And I always answered that I was 50/50 on the matter. When we learned that it was actually Justin who arranged that podcast for her, I was leaning towards no. Because why would she feel the need to go on a podcast no one asked for, if she was going to get the exposure of a big Hollywood premiere soon, right? Then we got the Avengers’ PR stunt where they endorsed Kamala Harris and Chris was flashing his ringless hand so ostentatiously. And then I immediately thought, of course she will be there. Her saying her marriage year was terrible coupled with his non wearing his wedding ring was meant to manipulate his fans into thinking the end was near and like always to add shock value to their next PR stunt. 

And of course she was going to be there, this is actually a big part of why he did this PR stunt in the first place. He wanted the world to know he was a married man and there is no better platform than a Hollywood event to push a narrative… even when you push it as discreetly as you can so that you don’t offend your fandom and the general public any further…

Why did we get a remake of what happened at the Ghosted premiere and what does this mean?

If people remember the Ghosted Premiere, they did not walk together as they infamously made their red carpet debut for the Vanity Fair party. At the time, I theorized that the reason they didn’t was because they wanted to ease his fans in as they knew there was quite a lot of backlash from his fans but also from the general public. I still think that was the case but it’s even more obvious after today’s stunt, as this was a win-win for Chris. He gets to sell the married man brand he is craving so desperately while putting his kinda wife in a corner.  Go Berlin! She gets to come but has to make sure she is not seen too much as her presence could offend his fans and a part of the general public and more importantly have an impact on his movie’s box office and his career more generally speaking. And look how his “fans” take this as a victory… 

But it’s not, it’s just more manipulation and gaslighting on Chris and his team’s part. 

Because clearly all the content of the 2 of them was not meant for the general public but destined to his fandom. And as you can see they didn’t make it to the Just Jared article this time. But they did get to sell the “we are real and private/we are just PR” narrative. Badly like always because it’s the point. 

https://www.justjared.com/2024/11/03/dwayne-johnson-lucy-liu-chris-evans-more-premiere-new-holiday-movie-red-one-in-berlin/

But now we finally get a clearer sense of why Abba felt the need to go on a podcast no one cared about for the first edition of a small festival that got little to no media coverage! She is basically reduced to a prop that has basically no voice or agency but is taken out for minimal lowkey PR stunts when it’s absolutely necessary. But since she a Nazi sex worker, I am guessing we should all be ok with this. But more on that later. 

The latest appearance of the precious ring and its use from a PR standpoint… 

I have already discussed the ring profusely and even recently when he went to the walk of fame for Kevin Feige. Here are a couple of posts where I give my 2 cents about it.

Before I dive into the latest shenanigans with the precious, it’s important to note that playing with wedding rings is very “in” right now. And so what Chris did last night was textbook CAA. Just look at what Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck recently did with theirs or even more ridiculously how Dakota flashed her engagement ring during an arranged papwalk. 

Here you can see a video of Chris with the very purposefully loose ring:

As people have pointed out, the ring is way too big, isn’t it? And clearly that’s the whole point since it feeds the “it’s only PR” narrative, isn’t it? But that’s not even the most interesting part about this little clip. Look at where the fans are on this video, then pay closer attention to the camera placement. Can you see how much emphasis the person who is filming (not a fan) is putting on the loose ring and how CURATED this all is?

And now look at Chris playing with his ring so naturally and organically (sarcasm) as the photographers are taking his picture. 

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They want you to see it, they are showing it to you, as ostentatiously as it gets. Even when Chris plays the game of “hide the ring”, it is to draw more attention to it while trying to gain sympathy from fans who are so desperate to see a glimmer of regret in his demeanor. 

The programmed obsolescence of Team Real/Team PR and the endgame of the PR strategy 

I have discussed months ago, how this strategy of “divide and conquer” which was symbolized by the discourse and fighting between Team Real and Team PR was just a starting point. A PR strategy can only be understood and appreciated when it can be analyzed in the long run. Those 2 trolling teams were the loud extremist voices that were obnoxious and repulsive enough (in their tone or rhetoric) to drive fans away from them and the narratives they were selling, paving the way for the more reasoned and rational Team Middle. I wrote a post about it if you want to check it out. 

As Team PR and team Real have become completely redundant, all that is left is the narrative Team Middle are pushing. Notice how they purposefully keep blurring the line to disorient (classic manipulation tactics by the way) and make people accept what they are selling. And today they might distract you with the loose ring, the presence of her relatives, the not walking the red carpet together or taking pictures together (but just you wait for the NY premiere as it is just around the corner), their bad body language around each other, the awkwardness and coolness of their exchanges, her cheap outfit while he is dressed in designer clothes by his scientologist and rapist apologist stylist, or they will point out how over the top and fake he was in his reactions at the premiere and I could go on and on… All of this is true BUT it is all a distraction and misdirection. 

As they have pointed out repeatedly, it has been two years, so you should just accept it or move on. The fandom no longer needs your services if you are not capable of enjoying the content they “so kindly” provide for you. They will feed you the crumbs showing how fake it is to appease you and to distract from Chris’ complicity and manipulation as long as you behave. 

The seemingly counterintuitive promoting of this girl by plants, their vicious trolling and what purposes it serves..

So many plants allegedly hate Abba but talk about her constantly. The amount of attention she is getting from them seems incommensurable. Like posting her numbers religiously or obsessing about what she is wearing and so forth.

If it weren’t for them we would hear very little about her. For example, we would have known she was going to do a podcast in her home country only after she posted about it and not a long time before hand. It's also important to note that most of the time she is mentioned, it is in a very negative way as they usually make fun of her and humiliate her. As you know, “there is no such thing as bad publicity”. But in this instance, it’s interesting to ask ourselves why and also what purposes it serves more specifically.

Well, I have just mentioned that bad publicity is still publicly, but another key rule is: know your audience. And obviously Chris’ fandom dislikes her so intensely that talking about her in a negative way, showing animosity towards her is the smart approach to gain the trust of his fans you want to manipulate. The goal here is to paint her as an absolute villain. I am not defending her by the way as she is an awful person but she has 0 power in this story but she makes for a hell of a scapegoat in this shitshow. And indeed, people can easily project all of their disappointment, anger and negative emotions onto her in order to soothe their frustration. 

You see the industry makes you do things you don’t want to do if you let it, talent agencies are as unethical as it gets and will play an awful game if you let them, the PR wife that you selected (or agreed on) might be a POS… but at the end of the day, it’s all a reflection of your own choices and of who you are… 

NB: special thanks to friends and mods who provided me with content and shared with me their smart observations. If I don’t thank you by name it’s to protect you from being blocked LOL