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vulturelined · 1 year ago

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Alejandro

Buggy the clown x fem!reader

no warnings :)

|| god bless lady gaga. first fic, not proofread ||

Life had never been particularily easy in the town you lived in.

Money was scarse and the pub on the outskirts of town, hidden by houses and markets, was a sanctuary for most; just a place to cheaply drink away the poor aspects of life. You'd lost count of the drunken men (sailors, pirates, or divorcees. no in-between) that you'd see walking in and out, day and night, holding either a full beer or two empty ones.

Life had never been easy in this town. Which is why you, one of the people who chose not to drown their sorrows in booze all day, had to work for what you have.

"I know you love me, but I just can't be with you like this anymore!" You feigned a soft inhale and forced yourself to stumble against a prop-table, leaning on it for support and looking off to the side as seductively as you could. "Alejandro..."

You had to work for luxury. Even if it meant indulging in shitty plays for it.

The man across the stage, 'Alejandro', wore a distraught expression as he approached you. In front of you, he fell to his knees, trembling hands taking hold of your leg to lift it. The tip of your heel grazed the front of his suit and he exhaled shakily. "Oh, mi dulce, how I long for you," he began, voice dramatically sad, "What must I do for you to finally belong to me?"

The sick sweetness of it all made you internally grimace, though your front never fell. You leaned further against the prop-table, hoping and praying it would not give under your weight. "Stop, please," you hopelessly beg, turning your head from your stage partner and pushing him away by the chest with your heel. "Just let me go."

He leans down to rest his cheek against your calf, not once letting go of your leg. The whole interaction makes you want to just walk off stage, the 'tension' unbelievably uncomfortable. "Estimada...I beg only for your forgiveness."

"Oh, Alejandro," You turn your head to finally look at the man on his knees in front of you, mustering up the most adoring-look that you can. Only then do the curtains close, and you immediately stand up straight. Your stage partner, however, does not.

The crowd on the other side of the curtain is only claps and quiet whistles, but your stage partner does not dare look away from you. Working off your heels with the support of the prop-table, you quirk a brow at the man. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

He only smiles in turn, looking away from you for the first time since he got down onto his knees. He almost looks bashful in the way he glances around. "I was just wondering if we can speak outside," he answered, "After encore."

You have a hint as to what's going on, but you agree anyways.

When you walk outside, finally dressed in normal clothes, you do not miss the way people exiting the theatre look at you. It's flattering, but you avoid their gaze anyways.

'Alejandro' waits outside, hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but the door you came out of. His nervousness makes you sour, and a small part of you cannot wait to reject whatever he is about to propose. When he does look at you, though, his reaction only worsens your mood. His eyebrows raise, and you're not sure if his pupils dialate when he smiles, but his face definitely reddens. You don't smile back.

"[Name], I was getting a little worried you got stuck in your dress," he jests lightly, but his tone is awkward and uncomfortable and it leaves the air thick. "Yeah, no, I'm fine," you furrow your brows, crossing your arms over your chest and shifting your weight to one leg. "What did you want to talk about?"

He fumbles over his words for a moment, obviously embarrassed, and it gives you second-hand embarrassment in turn. This would have been sweet if he wasn't such an asshole most of the time. "Well, you see, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go out sometime? Our chemistry is amazing and I know a fantastic pla-"

"No."

You can see how your response effects him, and you almost crack a smile. His shoulders slump and his nervous smile drops completely, leaving him gaping like a fish at you. "Wh- What?" he's stunned, hands frozen in the air from how he gestured when he previously spoke.

"I said no. I'm not interested."

He opens and closes his mouth but doesn't say a thing, his eyebrows knitted up in distress. It's only like that for a moment, though, before it's a complete 180. His brows turn down. "I knew you were nothing but a stuck-up wannabe actress," he huffs sourly, clenching and unclenching his fists beside him.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise before following his. "Are you fucking serious? Did you expect me to swoon?" You jab your finger at him, letting your anger show on your face. "Did you want me to fall to my knees and beg for a chance when you're nothing but a desperate, sexist fuck constantly looking for someone to pick on?"

People turn to look as your voice raises. Your stage partner only seems to anger more at your words, his breathing picking up and becoming heavier by the second. "You fucking bitch. You are going to be begging when I get your ass fired from these stupid fucking gigs."

His words set in and you scrunch up your face in distaste, not looking forward to loosing your only source of income. You only scoff in his face before turning on your heel and storming the opposite direction.

The only reasonable place to go at the moment seems to be the pub.

You can hear the slurred singing and obnoxious laughter before you even enter the bar, and it makes you breathe a heavy sigh. When you push the doors open, you can already feel the oncoming headache.

Different groups of men sit in different corners of the bar at round tables, covered by both empty and over-filling beers. Most didn't stand out, just there for a good time with their friends that are surely in the same sitution as them. Or at least there to support.

One corner, however, held the loudest group in the entire building. And the flashiest. Interesting looking men and women circled the table, laughing and loudly telling stories while some sang weird sea-shanties you swear you've heard a thousand times.

The blue-haired man sitting between two men and laughing annoyingly clown-like is the hardest to keep your eyes off of, though.

You don't turn your head (as to not seem like a creep), but you keep your eyes on him the whole walk to the counter. The only reason you look away is to order a drink, and then you get right back to it.

The ponytails hanging off of the sides of his hat almost make you laugh, but then you're too entranced by the rest of him to even think of laughing at it. So focused on him that you don't notice the man sitting beside him, wearing some kind of bear fur, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

Suddenly, the clown's eyes are fixed on you and you have never looked away from something so fast. Your face burns and you can hear your heart beat in your ears, embarrassed to have been caught staring so shamelessly. Nothing happens for a moment, and you think you're safe to look back, only to see that he hasn't looked away.

"Hey! You!" his voice is loud and gruff, and it quiets down some of the bar when he yells. So many eyes are on you, and you'd think it wouldn't bother someone who acts, but it makes your entire body heat up and your shoulders slump in a poor attempt to shrink into your clothes. You're avoiding looking at him now, and you miss the way it makes his eyes narrow. "Yes..?"

He huffs loudly, sitting up and removing his feet from the table. The people sitting with him have completely quieted, and when you take a second to look at them, you freeze up at the dangerous looks they hold. One woman rests her hand on a blade that sits holstered on her side and you feel the color drain from your face.

The clown stands, arms crossed and his coat dangling from his shoulders. When you look back to his face, you see him observing yours, before his expression turns to one of pure rage. "STOP LOOKING AT MY NOSE!!"

At his words, his crew draw their weapons. The woman unsheathes her sword, the fur-boy grabs a.. whip? And so forth.

"Oh my god, no, I wasn't-" you try to explain, your voice shaky, and you want to curl up and die with the way you stutter and fumble over your words. This must be how 'Alejandro' felt. "I- I wasn't looking at your nose, I'm so sorry, it's very lovely."

His expression falters, his already-wide eyes opening even wider for a moment. "It's very UGLY??!" he hollers, slamming a foot onto the table. You slap your hands over your face and drag down, feeling the heat seep into your hands. "NO!! It's nice! I like it! It's awesome!" you shout back, the embarrassment getting the best of you.

That seems to have gotten him on the right track, if the way he freezes up says anything. When you muster up the courage to look back up, both him and his crew seem confused. The fur-boy leans over to look at the man opposite of the clown, hair striped with green and black. "She just said she likes it," the fur-boy points out in a hushed voice, making the man with the striped hair scoff and roll his eyes at the obvious take.

"Oh, well, in that case, stare as much as you'd like," the clown grins wide, and your eyes focus on his red-painted lips. He settles back into his seat, looking outrageously smug - and for a moment, it irritates you. "The great Buggy the clown deserves an entourage, anyways!"

Buggy the clown. Never heard of him, but he is really interesting to you right now.

You turn back to the counter, heart still pounding in your ears and embarrassment making itself obvious on your face in an unmistakable blush. The bar has gone back to it's usual noise at this point, but you're still grateful for the extra drink the bartender slides you, claiming it to be on the house.

"Hey, wait! You're the chick from the play!" Buggy's voice reaches your ears again, and this time your heart sinks. When you slowly turn to him, he has his finger pointed directly at you and his eyebrows are raised high in what seems to be surprise. "Yes, I am," you answer, voice unsure. Your leg bounces and your fingers drum rhythmically against the counter, but you maintain eye contact.

He whistles slowly, his eyebrows still high, "What a show that was! Especially the bonus scene," he starts to laugh, high and loud, and slaps his knee. The sight makes you bite your lip to force down a smile. It's contagious, what can you say? "Booyy, was that poor kid worked up!'

Your almost-smile fades when his words set in, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You're about to ask what he's talking about, when the events after the play hit your memory again. You grimace, fingers pressing hard against the glass beer-mug in your hand.

"Are you serious?" you ask, although you know he is. "You saw that?" A small laugh bubbles out of your throat, but it's more so in embarrassment than amusement. Regardless, it makes Buggy grin wider.

He shakes his head in mock disapproval with a click of his tongue, standing from his seat. He takes a moment to awkwardly squeeze out of the table, cursing and swearing at some of his crew, before he actually makes his way over to you. "Oh I saw. Hard not to hear when you were handing his ass to him!" he laughs loudly, and it makes you wince a little bit now that he's closer.

Making himself comfortable leaning against the bar counter, Buggy turns his head and grins at you. "What's your name?" he follows up the question with an extremely poorly pronounced spanish pet-name, trying to mock the 'Alejandro' character, but the way he said it made you laugh more than any other part.

"[Name]. It's nice to meet you, Buggy the clown," you smile, feeling more comfortable now that he was actively joking around. It shouldn't be surprising, given he's a clown, but he is certainly making an impression on you right now.

His head tilts the slightest bit, his eyes narrowing and his grin un-faltering. It makes you swallow harshly and turn away, hiding your embarrassed smile by taking a sip of your drink. "Oookay, [Name]," he begins, tapping one finger against the counter. His eyes are unmoving, focused solely on you, and it kind of makes you feel like it's only the two of you in the bar. He lets out a cackle before continuing, "What are you doing here?"

You let out a small hum in response, finishing your drink and setting the empty glass on the counter. "Just here to see what clowns show up. Have to get my eye-candy some how," you joke lightly, looking down at the empty beer-mug in front of you with a small, amused smile. Your response makes Buggy crack up, slapping his hand against the counter. The end of his laugh breaks off into a small wheeze, and he slams a fist against his chest before clearing his throat. How smooth. It makes you laugh a little bit.

He leans against the counter on his side now, his smile unwavering and his eyes still on you only. "Lucky me! At least there won't be any other clowns getting your attention, then!" he chuckles at himself, his chest puffing in pride and the blue ponytails on each side of his hat swinging. You can't help the smile this time, so you just look away to hide it. "Only clown that's been appealing so far, and that's saying a lot with how many I see," you snort, shaking your head at yourself.

Buggy lets out a noise akin to a giggle, and it only makes you laugh a bit more. "Ohh, what a thing you are!" he suddenly exclaims, making you turn to him and raise a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He only grins in response, waving to the bartender for another beer. Your brows furrow, "I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment." His eyes squint and he leans to the side to rest his cheek against his gloved fist, once again looking at you as if you were the prettiest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on, "Good."

Your eyes stay on him for a moment, a slow grin creeping up onto your face before you eventually look away with a breathy laugh. This man is outrageous. "Kinda rude leaving your friends behind to come talk to me," I mention, glancing back at his group of 'friends'. A majority of them stared curiously, making me shift uncomfortably and furrow my brows, "And kind of rude for them to be staring."

Buggy wholeheartedly laughs and once again slaps the counter, making a little bit of his beer spill onto it. The site brings a crooked smile to your face and you huff a laugh through your nose. "They're my freaks for a reason," he cackles, patting his knee in amusement. You raise your eyebrows, letting your head fall to rest against your hand. "Freaks? Should I be worried?"

"Fear not," he grins, leaning in a bit. His smell is overwhelming - a mix of the sea, cotton candy, and sweat - and it makes you lean forward as well. "My freaks know when I see something I like."

His words make you freeze, eyes wider than they were before, and lips slightly parted in surprise. You let them sink in for a moment before leaning back and laughing lightly, face hot and eyes anywhere but him, and he only snickers in response. "Charming clown."

You sit there for a moment, observing the bar, before breathing a sigh and slipping off the barstool you previously sat. You only notice the height difference between you and Buggy when you have to crane your neck up to look at him. "Well, it was amazing meeting you, Buggy, but I should get going now. I have to wake up early to hopefully save my career," you explain, tone lighthearted, but completely serious. If that dickhead meant what he said, you're at risk of losing your part in every play from here on out.

This is first time you see his smile fail to stay since he came over to you, and the idea of it all made you feel a bit hotter in the face. He pushes himself upright off the counter, not saying a word. The two of you stand there for a moment, silent. His eyes glance between yours, occasionally flicking down to your lips, the corner of his twitching upward into a ghost of a smile. It's Buggy who speaks first.

"Say, [Name]," he starts, his wide grin returning as he drags his pointer finger against the counter, “You'd make a mighty fine performer for my pirate crew."

Your eyebrows shoot up and you look at him in surprise, "I'm no pirate."

"I'd be happy to change that, if you'd let me," he offers, head tilted expectantly.

He waits patiently for your response, but with how slowly the words process, you don't think it'll come anytime soon. He doesn't look bothered, though. He simply looks at you with that cheesy, overdone smile and crescent-formed eyes. You had met this man less than an hour ago, and you're already considering leaving the island with him.

You swallow harshly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

"If that's what you want."

"Then I'll give you my answer in the morning."

#buggy the clown #captain buggy #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy pirates #op buggy #one piece #oneshot #opla #op #op x reader

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ka1rin · 2 years ago

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His Genuine Behaviour

Itoshi Sae x reader

genre : angst . 708 words

Itoshi sae gets mad at you for trying to talk to him while he's overwhelmed. Mad. Because he lost a game.

You were watching a football match on television that your lover, Itoshi Sae, was participating in. Defeated.

You were aware that you would be met with his frankness, which you loathe to the core, as soon as he got home.

Although you've become used to it and are fully aware that's just simply how he behaves—I mean, he does it constantly, right?

You thought so.

Everytime he does it, it gets you unhappy, but this time he wouldn't go to far, right?

You were expecting him to be home soon, and you knew that if you said something wrong. It will make him furious. You had to put yourself together once he gets home, and comfort him so he feels better.

While you were still pondering, the sound of keys jangling at your door interrupted you.

I'm home. said at a cold tone.

Welcome home, Sae! I watched your match and you did great as always!

Like always, you welcomed him with warmth, so it wasn't clear that something bothered you. With all the worrying about what might happen, your heart was already aching.

Shut up. You're wrong. I didn't do "great", I let the ball slip and it got stolen by our rival. Stop acting like you know anything about this shit. So keep your mouth shut...things would be way better if you did.

He raised his voice.

Even though this occurs frequently, you were still frightened. As you anticipated, he chose to step over the line this time. You were distressed and only attempting to console him when you started to wonder what went wrong. You merely just wanted to assist. You weren't even aware that your grimaced face was streaming with tears. You just stayed silent cause you knew if you let out another word, things will go down. He didn't even bother to look at your pitiful face. He just went to the room pretending as if nothing happened.

And there you are, resting on the uncomfortable couch crying and distressing. He may be soundly dozing off on the comfortable bed you previously shared with him, he's not even aware of what just occured, or was he? You questioned whether he truly cared about you, whether he was considering what just happened, and whether he was indeed just dozing off. Does he even cry as much as you do? With countless thoughts racing through your head, you hoped your thoughts were true. Because if he genuinely done such things, it would indicate that he really cared.

You felt on edge, your eyes grew swollen, your heart ached, and your rage rose at the mere thought of all of things. Even though you were furious with him or experiencing other negative feelings in response to what had happened, you knew you would still end up forgiving him if he apologized and made a change. Although you are deeply in love with the man, you have often questioned if he feels the same way about you. Your eyes were sore and swollen from crying that you fell asleep.

You woke up, He was clutching you closely when you awoke with a heavy weight lying over you. You shifted to look at him; he had closed eyes, red, sore eyes, and possibly damp skin from grieving. You combed through his hair that was clinging to his face from tears and moisture. Now that you were facing him, you nearly forgot about what had just happened as you admired his beauty.

He spoke in a groggy manner after gently opening his eyes.

(Y/n), I apologize for what I have said earlier; I should have controlled my emotions. I'm very sorry, but I was too upset earlier. You are free to leave me if you feel that I have crossed over the line this time.

You commented

I absolutely understand what you're saying, Sae ; that's just the way you are. You did go too far, but it's okay, Sae, I'll always be forgiving. Sae, I adore you, and I would never abandon you. You have my undying love.

Can we share a bed to sleep? I want to sleep with you because it is so cramped in here. Without you, the bed feels incredibly empty.

I see, sure!!

you smiled softly

His sigh of relief came as a reply, also smiling same as you are.

END.......

I'm so so so sorry about my bad writing! It is my first time after all! But I hope you guys enjoyed this! Thank you (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)

I haven't proofread this so, PLEASE CORRECT ME IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES!!

#itoshi sae #sae itoshi #rin itoshi #bllk #blue lock #blue lock angst #shidou ryusei #oliver aiku #reo mikage #nagi seishiro #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #first post #new writing blog #new writer boost #micheal kaiser #itoshi rin #blue lock smut

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weskipooo · 3 months ago

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MICHAEL MYERS X FEM! READER

Grammer checker @shotoyami

I hid, Frank and I being the only ones alive, crouching behind a rock. Beads of sweat roll down my face as I give a panicked glance toward Frank. He speaks up with a deep frown, “Hey, honey, it’s okay. Relax. Breathe with me, okay?” I nodded, slowing my breathing as we crept out from our safe spot. “Let’s go find another gen.” We both snuck around, the weight on our feet heavy with fear- mostly from me. Eventually, we started doing the gen frantically. My hands fumbled with the wires, trying to start it, banging my hand on the gen. “We’ve got this! We’ll be out here in no time.” I grin weakly, my anxiety through the roof. I glance around the fog while I work, relaxing after a while of stillness. I then glance back toward Frank, who notices my gaze and speaks up, “You’re doing great, honey.”

Before he could reassure me further, he was yanked from behind- the unexpected action ripping him from the gen. My scream gets caught in my throat, freezing as I witness this sudden disturbance- “Run! (Y/n) run!” Before he could say more, he was stabbed in the stomach. Watching the life in his eyes fade, I fell back. 6ft tall. His eyes look down upon me with a sharp, unforgiving look. He appeared ready to catch his prey, his eyes showing no emotion. “Michael Myers…” my shaken voice breathes out, his head slowly tilted to the side. Before he could do anything, I shot up and ran as fast as my body could carry me, tears beginning to well in my eyes. Frank was killed. I know I’ll see everyone after the challenge, but it’s still terrifying to see his body- and to see it get tossed aside like nothing.

My feet and lungs burn as I fly forward. Something brings me to glance behind me, seeing Michael with his hand raised and ready to strike. I turn a corner and wait for him to follow before slamming the pallet between us down, which earns me an irritated growl. I turn to run away but am halted by Michael, standing tall and breathing with his full chest. His eyes bore into mine before he swung his knife at me, barely missing the mark. I let out a sound of sheer terror and attempted to run again, but freeze as I felt something go into my leg. When I look to see what caused the sudden sharp onslaught of pain, I find Michael’s knife lodged into my thigh. “Fuck!” I curse, my eyes go wide as Michael crouched down. He had to jump to get it into my leg- why was he so desperate to stop me?! He jumped!? I gripped my leg, hissing in pain, “Get away from me!” I used my other leg to kick him square in the face, which causes him to lose grip of his knife. I took the opportunity to use my strength to pull the knife out, grunting in pain as I throw the knife in a random direction and begin speed limping.

“Shit! Get me out- where is the hatch?!” I scream to myself. As though some unforeseen source had heard my desperate cry, the hatch comes into sight before me. “Yes- please, freedom!” I was yanked back by my shirt, my hope lost, fear swelling in my heart. He hoists me up, holding me tight, his hands around my waist, his breath against my ear. I felt him smirk. ‘Why is he smirking?’ My body shakes out of fear as Michael shifts his grasp on me, holding up the very same knife that he’s previously stabbed my leg with; it moves in front of my stomach, his body against my back–all I felt was a breath of wind go against my ear. “Please Michael- let me go! Please, I’m begging you,” I kicked and screamed, my eyes filled with tears–this part always hurts no matter what, even if I’m not actually dying, I still feel the pain. The knife plunges into my stomach, despite my desperate fighting against the action, and I feel my soul leave my body as hot blood comes out from my deep wound. With a gasp, I wake up back at camp, my teammates surrounding me with worried eyes. “You’re okay, (y/n)…” I sighed in relief. Finally, it’s over for the day.

#fanfiction #fanfic #michael myers #michael myers x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x reader #horror x reader #dead by daylight #horror #reader insert #slasher x reader #slashers #horror slashers

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amberskyyking · 7 months ago

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-sliding into another week on my unapologetic bullshit like-

HAPPY BAD BATCH DAY!!!!! Chapter 7 is UP, Tech is ALIVE, I have a PLOT and a CHAPTER COUNT now (it’s gonna be 14, probably, but hey, famous last words), and there are Wrecker-sized FEEEEELLLLIIIINNNNGSSSS!!!!! ❤️��️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Implications Of Being Alive

Chapter 7: New Last Memories (And Hugs For The Whole Family)

Wrecker never faced that CX trooper head on in their fights, but for a long time, he wished that he had.

Whenever he caught Crosshair messing with his wrist, or Omega woke up with a nightmare about being taken, or Echo got all quiet at a mention of a brother they lost on Teth, Wrecker regretted that he never got the chance to take on that trooper himself. He woulda crushed him if it came down to it, even if he didn’t wanna kill him. It was still a clone in there, he knew it wasn’t really their fault, he remembered how awful it felt to be controlled by the chip and no one deserved something like that. But Wrecker woulda stopped him, even if killing him was what it took to do it. He wouldn’t have let his family get hurt if he could help it, not for nothing.

He didn’t wish that anymore.

The realization when Omega gave them the news had hit harder than the monster on Tantiss. Wrecker curled in on himself, clutching at his middle with one hand and reaching into thin air with the other, like he had when Tech fell from their railcar, and his hand found Hunters shoulder as the memory pressed in.

He had begged Tech not to do it. It wasn’t an option, Tech was right there and they just needed to get him on the railcar, just needed a little more time, but Tech had known better. Wrecker had watched him come to the conclusion as if in slow motion, the way his eyes went steady before he took aim and said those rebellious last words, but… But Wrecker couldn’t take that! He couldn’t lose him! He screamed for his vod, lunging out of the railcar with an outstretched arm even though it was useless, just some instinct in him that couldn’t let go, just his own willpower versus gravity like a damn Jedi, and Tech fell. Wrecker couldn’t look away, and neither did Tech, both keeping their eyes locked on their family as long as they could in those last moments until the car caught the tracks and ripped them apart.

Tech’s plan had worked, and Wrecker could only ever hope he knew it in the end, hope he knew that his sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Even if it hurt. Even if it had never stopped hurting. It was the last ever memory Wrecker had of his brother, the last memory any of them had, since Wrecker had been the one to see it happen, who couldn’t stop it… Until now.

They were going to get to make new memories again. Tech was coming home…

And if Wrecker had ever gotten the chance to face that CX trooper a decade ago, he might not be.

The sun beating down on the top of his head would have usually felt good, especially out on the water, with salty mist spraying up in the air and the thrill of catching nice fat fish. But today, waiting on solid dry land for the Havoc Zillo to appear in the sky, it was only making him sweat.

“You okay, Wrecker?” Hunter’s voice mumbled quietly at his side.

Wrecker ran a hand over his bald head and tried to let go of his thoughts with a shaky huff. “Nah... But you’re no better. I don’t need to hear heartbeats to tell that.”

��Neither do I,” Hunter said dryly, shifting his weight and exhaling hard. They sat in silence a few seconds more, craning their necks and squinting up at the air. Crosshair’s toothpick snapped in his mouth.

“What do we even say to ‘im?” Wrecker turned back to his brothers. “After all this time-”

“Depends,” Crosshair spat. “We don’t even know what he’ll be like. He might try to kill us again.”

“Don’t say that, he’s our brother-”

“I’m only being realistic, Wrecker.”

“Well I’M just being-”

“Enough,” Hunter cut them both off at once, his head snapping back towards the sky. “They’re here.”

Wrecker gasped and turned his good eye back to the sky above, searching for the little dot that was Omega and Echo and Tech coming home. It took him a second to find it but his heart leapt when he did, and Wrecker’s face split into a huge grin. There wasn’t a doubt in the galaxy that Tech would be okay, somehow, after everything. He had his brothers to help him again! They would make sure it turned out just fine, of course they would.

By the time the ship swung around Wrecker was bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation, and as soon as it hit the ground, he broke free of the others and ran to it!

“OMEGA!” He bellowed, waving an arm as Batcher bounded at his heels. “ECHO! WHERE’S TECH?!”

It didn’t even matter that the engines were just powering down and the ramp hadn’t lowered yet, he knew they could hear him! And Tech was in there!

“MEGA!” He called again just as Hunter and Crosshair caught up, and finally, the ramp let out a hiss and began to lower, slowly revealing the other half of their family at the top.

Tech was there, he was really there, and Wrecker suddenly couldn’t speak. His brother, who he missed so much, stood in the middle of the other two, with Echo’s arm around his waist and Omega’s hand clutched tight his own. He regarded the three of them on the ground with a thoughtful expression that Wrecker knew, even all these years later. It knocked whatever words he was going to say right out of his throat. Wrecker feel dizzy all of the sudden, he wobbled on the spot as tears blurred his vision and ragged breaths were torn from his lungs, and Crosshair caught him lightly by the arm.

“T-Tech?” Hunter said at his side in a voice that sounded fragile.

“See?” He heard Omega speaking softly. “I said I’d bring you home, didn’t I?”

Tech still hadn’t made any move to come down the ramp. For a second everyone was quiet as the engines finished winding down, and even Batcher paused her cheerful circles, as Echo and Omega tugged at his arms but his feet didn’t budge.

“And… They want to see me?”

Hunter eeked out a wounded sounding whimper and Wreckers bursting heart broke at the words.

“C-Course we do!” Wrecker found his voice again, scrubbing hard at his good eye to try and see his brother better. “Never a question, Tech! Come ‘ere, it’s… It’s been too long…”

Hunter sniffed hard and nodded at his side and Echo muttered something reassuring in his ear, and finally, Tech let himself be led down off the ramp. He looked at each one of them in turn, almost as if he was in a daze, once his feet hit solid ground, but the second Tech’s eyes met his own Wrecker was gone. The last time he locked eyes with his brother had been a goodbye, but now he was alive, he was back, that hadn’t been their last moments, he could hardly believe it! After ten long years he threw his arms around Tech’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug, cradling him gently against his chest and resting his cheek against the top of his brother’s head, like he would have years ago if he had just been able to reach him in time and pull him to safety.

Tech let out a surprised little gasp and went stiff, but after a moments hesitation, Wrecker felt him relax and wrap his arms gingerly around Wrecker’s sides in return.

“Y-You’re back,” Wrecker stammered out. “I missed ya, I really did…”

“I… I too have missed this,” Tech said in a small voice. “Though if you could loosen your grip just slightly it would be appreciated, this arrangement is impeding my ability to breathe.”

“Sorry…” Wrecker sniffed. “I know you’re not a big hugger, just, it’s been so long…”

“I do not mind it, actually,” Tech whispered, staying very still against Wrecker’s chest. Then Hunter was at their side, sliding his hand along Tech’s back too with tears streaming down his own face, and Wrecker lifted an arm to let him in, gesturing for Crosshair to get over here too. Their youngest brother could act prickly as much as he wanted but Wrecker knew how he really felt, and sure enough, Crosshair let out a small huff before crossing stiffly over to them and letting Wrecker drag him into the hug.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter was rasping out between full body sobs. “I’m sorry Tech, I’m so sorry-”

“As I told Echo. There is nothing to apologize for,” Tech said softly. “There was nothing for you to do differently and no viable way to determine whether or not I had survived.” He paused for a second, and Wrecker felt a small shudder course through his body. “I, on the other hand…”

“Whatever you did doesn’t matter,” Wrecker cut him off before he could put himself down or try apologizing. “Not to us. It wasn’t you, Tech.”

“We know you better than that,” Hunter agreed through his tears.

Echo and Omega joined in the hug pile from the outside and Wrecker loosened his other arm to make room for them, too. Even once he didn’t have Tech in his own grip his big brother stayed nestled close to his chest as Wreckers massive arms stretched out to encircle his family, his full family, all at once. He… He hadn’t ever gotten to hug them all at once before! After the war, when they went back for Omega, Crosshair was left behind, and no one was really in the mood for hugging when they were trapped together on a sunken Kamino. Then by the time they got Crosshair back, Tech was…

But Tech was here now. They all were, every single one of them was safe in his arms, after all this time.

Wrecker never wanted to let any of them go again.

They stayed like that for a while, much longer than Crosshair would have usually tolerated, and maybe it was because the others realized that too and felt the same. But of course, eventually, he had to, they couldn’t stay like that forever. When they started growing fidgety Wrecker reluctantly loosened his grip to let them go, but even once they all broke apart, he stood protectively close to Tech. Tech didn’t seem to mind. If anything he was hovering a little closer than usual too.

“Well… Come on,” Hunter said in a hoarse voice. “You’re probably hungry, Tech, and tired... I know it’s been a long trip. For all of you.”

Tech nodded compliantly and at Wrecker’s gentle urging he began to follow after Hunter, who turned back every few steps to make sure they were all still there, even though Wrecker knew he could have counted their heartbeats or footsteps or something instead. Wrecker could hardly even see the path back up to their little house, or… or Domicile? That was the neat sounding word Tech used to use for a house, wasn’t it? He somehow smiled even bigger at the thought. Not all of Tech’s vocabulary had stuck in his head, but there had always been a few unique words like that that that he remembered, and whenever he heard them anywhere else he thought of his brother.

Wrecker hoped that Tech still used those words. He hoped Tech still did a lot of the things he used to do, that the Empire hadn’t been able to crush a single ounce of who Tech was over the last decade they spent apart because his brother was too damn good for that. But if they did, Wrecker would remind him. They all would, and Wrecker couldn’t wait to show him the beaches the next morning! He was ready to walk with Tech anywhere he wanted, lift him up to see inside the little holes in the rocks where some fancy looking crabs nested, carry whatever sort of crazy recording equipment Tech cobbled together for his research without complaint, maybe even bring him out on the boat so he could talk to them all day about the different fish they caught. And he would never get sick of it, it wouldn’t be possible. He hadn’t realized how much he missed his brothers constant chatter until it was gone.

As the night went on, though, Wrecker started to have just a few worries. Tech wasn’t quite his old self. It wasn’t really fair to expect him to be though, at least not so quickly, was it? Maybe his memory was a little off, or maybe it was just the hyperspace-lag, or the ten whole years they missed out on that was making Tech act so much more quiet and subdued than he used to be. He still asked a few questions about the sushi they were eating, he showed interest in Wrecker’s tale of catching the fish that the sushi came from, he even said he dreamed a couple of times about eating this exact food while he was with the Empire. Those all had to be good signs… Weren’t they?

But Wrecker’s gut told him there was still something off.

Omega and Hunter encouraged Tech to turn in to bed early, and he put up a fight about it for a minute, but Echo got involved and he settled down. That didn’t quite strike Wrecker as right either. Tech had acted afraid, but he trusted Echo and Omega, they’d been with Tech again for a few days more than he had and it seemed like they had done this before. The thought made Wrecker uneasy. Who knew what sort of osik the Empire put his brother through? There were all sorts of things that could cause fears like that and it made Wrecker’s blood boil to think of any of them happening to Tech.

Crosshair began clearing the dishes in a huff the second the others made their way towards bed, and Wrecker dutifully carried plates over to the sink to be washed as they waited for their brothers to re-emerge.

“He’s not right,” Crosshair hissed as Wrecker brought him an armful of plates and began scraping the scraps into a compost bin. “He might be acting fine for now, but he isn’t.”

“I… I know,” Wrecker admitted. His grip tightened on a plate as he did and it cracked under his thumb.

“Wrecker!”

“Sorry!” He muttered, swiveling around to drop the whole plate in the garbage before he could cut himself on it, but it slipped and sliced the side of his finger anyways. “Damn.”

“Clean it,” Crosshair said with a sigh, stepping away from the sink and drying his hands on a towel.

Wrecker did as he was told, even if he grumbled about it, stuffing the injury under running water. It wasn’t even all that big, but Crosshair was already fumbling around for the first aid kit, and he knew better than to contradict him. Tech had been their medic before, but Crosshair had taken it upon himself to learn the basics once he returned, and hardly anything pissed off their littlest brother more than not taking care of an injury these days, no matter how small.

Just as he turned off the faucet and gave his hand to Crosshair for bandaging, Hunter, Echo and Omega came back from the room, with Hunter looking pale.

“...Something you two want to tell us?” Crosshair said in a dangerous tone, barely looking up from Wrecker’s hand.

Echo and Omega exchanged a dark look at that, and Wrecker’s gut twisted.

“Yes,” Omega said heavily. “I’m sorry but we really needed to wait to discuss it until Tech was asleep and I wanted to tell you in person.”

“Out with it, ‘Mega,” Hunter bristled.

Wrecker barely noticed Crosshair finish dressing the cut and give him back his hand. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good news, he could tell. The energy in the room had shifted, and he should have known. Even if Hunter was the one with enhanced senses, Crosshair and Wrecker’s combined intuition was rarely wrong…

But nothing they learned now could be as bad as the idea of Tech being gone forever.

Echo squeezed Omegas shoulder, and she let out a deep sigh. “There’s… I don’t really know how to tell you this, we haven’t completely figured out the details of what he’s thinking yet but… Tech doesn’t think this is real.”

Wrecker blinked at her in confusion. That… That didn’t make sense.

“Not real?” Hunter repeated incredulously.

Omega gave him a solemn nod. “He thinks he’s dreaming… At least most of the time.”

Dreaming? Now Wrecker’s heart began to race. Tech didn’t know they were together again? He didn’t think he was home? That this was all just… Wishful thinking? All in his head? Fake?

Wrecker growled under his breath at the idea. How dare the Empire do that to him?! How DARE they hurt his big brother SO BADLY that he didn’t even KNOW-

“What do you mean by most of the time?” Crosshair hissed.

“I mean he’s confused,” Omega pleaded. “He acts like himself sometimes, like the way things used to be, then other times he talks like he’s still with the Empire and this is all a vision! He thinks he needs to return to his commanding officer, he thinks he’s going to be decommissioned-”

“DECOMMISSIONED?” Wrecker roared in horror. “NOBODY’s gonna decom him an’ - and if they EVER come back for him I’ll KILL ‘EM”

“Easy Wrecker. You’ll wake him,” Echo chided, but his voice was just as venomous as Wreckers, and Wrecker scoffed. “The Empire is like that,” Echo continued. “He told us it was common practice, and my intel says he’s right.”

Wrecker’s head was spinning. More things about what Tech had said before were starting to make sense, and they made him feel sick. How long had Tech held on to them during that hug, like he didn’t want it to end? There was that comment about dreaming of sushi, and his strange silence like he wasn’t fully there, and that thing he said about his own family not wanting him-

“So is he going to try to return to the Empire on us?” Crosshair interrupted Wreckers thoughts in a clipped tone, placing a steadying hand on Wrecker’s arm again.

“I don’t think so. Not right now anyways, he… He thinks he needs to wake up somehow to do that,” Omega explained. “But he’s afraid to go to sleep because he doesn’t want to wake up with the Empire again. We have to keep promising him we’ll still be here when he does, not them…”

“This… Could be a serious problem,” Hunter mused, rubbing his fingers hard against his own temples with his eyes closed in thought. “Once he figures out this is real…”

“If he figures out this is real,” Crosshair corrected, and Wrecker wheeled on him like he’d just suggested Pabu was covered in snow.

“Whadda’ya mean if?” Wrecker piped up. “He’s gotta know!”

“Why?” Crosshair snapped. “He’s here, isn’t he? He’s said he doesn’t want this dream to end and he’s less dangerous like this.”

“But that’s not right!” Wrecker cried, pulling his arm away from Crosshair. “We can’t all just lie to ‘im! He deserves better than that, he’s our brother!”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of! None of us do! Except maybe Omega!”

“Well if anything happens we’ll handle it! But it shouldn’t take trickin’ ‘im to keep ‘im around. That’s… Isn’t that what the Empire was doing?”

There were a couple sharp inhales at that. Wrecker looked around at each of them in turn before landing his gaze back on Crosshair, trying to understand why they would even think of handling this any other way.

“That’s part of what we need to talk about,” Echo said evenly. “Crosshair does make a point. Tech has been a CX-trooper for ten years. That influence doesn’t just go away.”

Omega nodded. “I barely made it out of my own fight with him… He was relentless. He fought with lethal force even when he was badly injured, I got lucky. If he didn’t get distracted at the end…”

Hunter made a choked sounding noise and immediately pulled Omega into his arms, as if to protect her from the very idea that she could get hurt like that or worse, and Omega chuckled into his hair just a little.

“I’m alright Hunter,” She said affectionately. “I really am, but I just mean to say… You really can’t underestimate him.”

“But Wrecker is right too,” Echo said darkly. “Lying to him is Empire osik, and we’re better than that. He deserves better than that.”

Wrecker let out a long breath. “It’s just… We can’t force him to believe anything, can we? Just cause we say this is real, it doesn’t mean he’ll believe us. But it’s still on us to be honest with him, and if it that causes a problem, we’ll deal with it then. He’s our brother. We gotta protect him but… We wouldn’t be doin’ a good job of that without being honest and showing him he’s loved. An’ lying wouldn’t be very loving.”

“I agree,” Hunter said. “We’ll have to be prepared for if he does… Wake up… But I think Wrecker’s right. We can’t just lie to him forever, not if we really want him back.”

Echo and Omega both nodded, and all eyes fell on Crosshair.

“Well it looks like I’m outvoted anyways,” He said snidely.

“Come on, Cross-”

“I think this is a bad idea,” Crosshair snapped. “I think you’re not taking the danger here seriously. But if you want to try and draw him back out so you can fight all his demons, fine. Have kriffing fun.”

With that Crosshair stalked out of the kitchen. Wrecker took a couple steps to follow, but a door slammed, and he stopped, torn.

“Let him go,” Hunter said tiredly. “You know how he gets. He just needs some time.”

“He hasn’t gotten like that in… In a while, Hunter,” Wrecker moaned. “I don’t want him to be upset all alone.”

Hunter let out a sigh. “I know. But… trust me.”

Wrecker hesitated a minute longer, but finally, he nodded, letting his shoulders drop.

A few minutes later they decided it would be better if they all went to bed early, all except Hunter, who took the first shift at Tech’s bedside just in case he woke up confused, to make sure they kept their promise. They had just set up the fourth bed in their shared room earlier this morning. Shep had brought it over for them as a gift, to make sure Tech was comfortable back home, at long last. Echo settled into Hunter’s bed to get some rest before taking second watch, and Wrecker crawled into his own with his eyes resting on Tech and the gentle rising and falling of his chest in the dim moonlight that streamed in through the windows.

He could have stayed awake the whole night like that, reminding himself Tech was here. Wrecker was going to remember everything about this best he could, so his last memory about Tech would be fresh and new every day from now on. But sleep hit him like an unexpectedly huge ocean wave and knocked him out in minutes, and the last thing he saw before succumbing to it was Tech roll over, looking peaceful in his sleep.

A good memory.

Partway through the night, Wrecker awoke to the sound of snoring, and he blinked a couple of times in the darkness of the room. The sound was coming from Crosshairs bed, and he could vaguely see the shape of his brother laying there.

Good. He made it back home.

Hunter seemed to be asleep in his own bed again, too, and Echo sat awake at Tech’s bedside. Wrecker met Echo’s eyes, and Echo gave him a tired, joyful smile, glancing down to where Tech was holding his hand in his sleep.

Yeah. It was all going to be okay.

They had so many new memories to make.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

OK BUT SOFT WRECKER HAS MY HEART IN A CHOKEHOLD SEND HELP 🥹😭

Please leave me fic fuel (comments and shit) cause I’m having a blast with this but it’s WAY more fun to carjack canon with *friends*!!! Lemme know if you wanna join the tag list!!!! @floofyroro @vimse @norraexploradora

Full I-Said-I-Would-Fix-It-And-I-Did Work: Implications Of Being Alive

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yan-lorkai · 3 days ago

Text

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: OK... There's a lot to unpack here, first of all, if y'all have followed me for a while, you guys know that I don’t write smut and why. But, uuuh, I wanted to try my hand at something new 😁. Idk if I will revogate my rule to not write smut, I want to try a few more times before taking requests tbh. But do lemme know y'all thoughts!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ warnings: yandere content, grieving, kidnapping, toxic relationship, gaslightening, mental manipulation, dubcon turned noncon, angel + female reader. Please heed the warnings if this makes you uncomfortable.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale, silvery light over the graveyard. Mist curled around the tombstones, weaving in and out like restless spirits. You stood before your mother's grave, your silhouette stark against the night, cloaked in darkness and solitude. You had come alone, as you did every year, to honor the memory of the woman who had given you life, who had taught you strength, who died to protect you.

A bouquet of white lilies rested in your hand, a bittersweet offering for her. A worthless effort, for your mother was already dead and wouldn't know anything her daughter was doing for her - and if she did knew, she'd scold you for wasting your time for such a frivolous thing.

She always was the tough person type.

“You never did like flowers,” You murmured to the stone, fingers brushing the engraved name. Her name was slowly fading away, so many eons already passed, yet you returned every year to clean your mother's grave. “But I hope you’ll forgive me this time. There was no wine good enough, no meat delicious enough.”

“It’s a waste, leaving flowers for the dead.”

You stiffened at the familiar voice, cold and cutting as it broke the silence. You turned slowly, your eyes narrowing as they fell upon him — your lover, standing at the edge of the clearing, half-shrouded in shadow. He hadn’t changed, not really. His hair got a little longer and his smile carried a lot more of mischief though.

His eyes were still as sharp as ever, the way they burned with that mix of challenge and yearning. It had been years since both of you had stood this close, and yet, it felt like nothing had changed.

Like you were still just children growing up, running from home to play with each other as the war between angels and demons wages on.

“You shouldn’t be here,” You muttered, your voice low, a warning and tainted with a said tone.

“And yet, here I am.” He took a step closer, his movements deliberate, like a predator approaching his most loved prey. “You thought I wouldn’t remember?”

“Why would you?” You shot back, your tone laced with bitterness as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You never cared about her nor cared about the other angels.”

“She mattered to you,” Sebastian replied, voice softening just a fraction as he kneeled beside you, taking one of your hands in his, “and that’s reason enough for me. Your mom and I… We had our disagreements but she's your mother, I'm here as a moral support, if you will, darling, for old time's sake”

For a moment, the tension between both of you was palpable, a heavy weight that pressed down on the air. Your heart twisted, memories flooding back — moments when you had stood side by side, fought together in the First Great War, loved each other without reservation. But those days were gone, torn apart by war and blood and the clash of your beliefs.

“You still cling to the past, to your beliefs and ideas…” you muttered, turning away, your gaze drifting back to the grave. “Is that why you came? To remind me of everything we lost?”

“I always came each year, sweet nemesis, and each year you ask me the same thing, you shouldn't be alone today,’ Sebastian said, his presence undeniable now as he engulfed you in his arms, as if trying to shield you from any bad thoughts and memories.

He didn't succeed. Far from it, his touch made you feel something terrible, an ache on your heart, a sting on your eyes. “You always try to be strong. Always pretending you don’t need anyone but I can see right through you. I always could.”

“I don’t need you,” you snapped, but your voice wavered, betraying the lie as you looked at the cold tombstone, your lips trembling.

You needed him once, a long time ago, when you were a scared teenager trying to survive the war, trying to fight for your and your people's lives. And, at that time, he was nowhere to be found when your whole world was exploding.

He wasn't there to wipe your tears and hold you, he wasn't there to tell you everything was going to be ok, even if you knew that to be a lie.

You just needed him. And he wasn't there.

You didn't need him now.

“Maybe not,” He concluded after a while, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop coming back each year. Not when it’s you.”

“You're still as stubborn as ever,” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes. There was so much unspoken between you — anger, regret, longing and desire. It was like staring into a mirror of all the things you’d buried deep inside.

Of all the things you loved but couldn't keep near.

“It's what you loved about me,” he replied, his lips quirking up in a faint, humorless smile. His grip getting stronger over your belly as he pulled you close. “And maybe, if you’d just listen… you’d see that I never stopped loving you.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, just a moment, you wanted to believe him. But then you shook your head, tired, exhausted. “We can’t keep doing this. You chose your path, and I chose mine, what's done it's done, demon.”

“Paths change, angel,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “People change.”

“Not us,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your own words. “We’re too far gone. Your ideals, Sebastian, put her there.”

You pointed your mother's grave. If you remain quiet enough, you can even hear her long forgotten voice - her songs she used to sang, her loud laughter, the syllables rolling of her tongue as she called your name.

“Then why do you still wear my ring?” he asked, eyes searching yours, desperate for an answer. “Why do you still wear my necklace? Our matching hair clip?”

“Because,” you said, voice barely more than a breath, “some things are worth remembering. Some things are a reminder of simple times, of simple wishes and wants. They aren't bitter. They aren't tainted by your influence.”

Sebastian's eyes darkened, the flicker of anger igniting beneath the surface. “You still cling to that ring as if it’s a lifeline, but you were the first to turn your back on me” he spat, voice low and dangerous.

“Angels will never see us as equals and you're a fool if you think they will.” He put emphasis on the word, tongue rolling as he snarl at you for being naive - as he always did.

Angels, demons, you were so tired from their war.

Your jaw clenched and you freed yourself from his arms, those same arms that you used to love to stay in. “You made your choice. You chose ideology over love, over family, you chose your hatred over me. I won’t let you twist this into something it’s not.”

“Twist? I’m merely stating the truth,” he shot back, stepping closer, the tension between you thickening. “You’re in denial. Your mother’s grave won’t save you from the reality that you’ve chosen the wrong side.”

“Don’t you dare speak about my mother!” you retorted, fire igniting in your eyes, you hit him harder on the chest, making stumbling. “You think your arrogance gives you the right to come here and insult me? To act like you still have a claim on me?”

A smirk played on his lips, and he leaned in, his breath hot against you skin. “Oh, but I do have a claim, darling. Even if you refuse to acknowledge it. You think you can banish me from your life just like that? You’re still bound to me, even in your anger.”

“Bound? You’re mistaken,” you hissed, the heat rising all over your body like an angry fire feeding right into your hatred. “You’re a shadow of what you used to be. If you think I’ll let you stay here, tainting this moment, you’re sorely mistaken. Be quiet or leave.”

With a swift motion, you raised your hand, channeling your power and a shimmering barrier erupted between both of you.

His expression shifted, a mix of fury and amusement. “You think that can stop me? Your magic has grown weaker. You’re not as strong as you believe.”

“Try me,” you challenged, heart racing as the air crackled with tension. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Sebastian laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. “You should be. You think you can just cast me aside? I’ve watched you, I know all your weaknesses. And I know you’re still drawn to me, whether you admit it or not.”

You stepped forward, defiance etched across your features. “I am not drawn to you! You’re nothing but a poison in my veins.”

“Then why do you look at me like that?” He taunted, closing the distance between you, his voice a low whisper as he stared right at you. “Why do you react as if every word I say is a spark igniting something deep within you?”

You felt your breath hitch, anger battling with an undeniable attraction. “I’m done playing your games. Leave this place, or I swear I’ll make you regret ever coming back.”

He leaned in closer, his body brushing against your, and you felt the heat radiating from him. “You can’t banish me from your heart. I’m the one who makes your blood sing, who drives you to madness.”

With a sudden surge of fury, you pushed him back, the barrier pulsing with energy. “I said leave! I won’t allow you to desecrate this sacred place with your presence!”

“Or what?” he challenged, eyes dark with intensity. “You’ll fight me? I’d love to see you try. I’ll remind you just how powerful we are together, how our ideologies can intertwine if you’d just—”

Before he could finish, you lunged forward, your fist colliding with his face with an electric force. Passion and fury melded together, your bickering becoming something primal, like the anger on your veins, like the poison on his lips.

“Admit it,” he growled, laughing as he easily took hold of your hands as the reddened skin of his cheek started to ache and swell. But Sebastian didn't care at all about that. “You want this just as much as I do, my beloved nemesis.”

“Never!” You snapped.

Sebastian's lips curled into a dark smile, his grip on your wrists tightening just enough to remind your of his strength. “Liar,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “I can feel your pulse quicken, your magic thrumming with desire. You crave the chaos I bring, the way I pull you from the edge of reason. Just like I did when we were children and I convinced you to run away to play with me."

You struggled against his hold, but the more you fought, the closer he seemed to draw and it was turning to be suffocating. “We used to be so reckless, do you remember? Jumping from cliffs and seeing how longer we could fall before opening our wings.”

The electric tension between you crackled, dancing in the air like lightning ready to strike. “Let. Me. Go,” you demanded, though your voice wavered, betraying the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

Sebastian's eyes softened momentarily, a flash of something almost tender crossing his expression. “Even if I did, would you truly be free of me?” He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “Don't you remember our blood pact - the one that keeps pushing and pulling so we can be together again?”

You clenched your jaw, your heart thundering in your chest. Every word he spoke chipped away at your resolve, but you refused to let him see it. “You’re deluded if you think I would ever seek you out willingly.”

“Oh, but I know you do,” he countered, his voice a dangerous caress as he pressed a soft, gentle kiss to your temple while you tried to escape his grip. “I know every fear, every doubt, every secret you’ve ever tried to bury. I know that, deep down, you’ve never been able to sever this connection. No matter how hard you try, you lay awake and think of me, of my touch.”

Your eyes blazed, your defiance igniting anew. “You’re wrong. Whatever power you had over me, it’s gone. I’ve grown stronger, and I won’t be ensnared by your lies.”

He chuckled, a low, resonant sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Then why do you tremble when I touch you?” He released your wrists, only to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Why does your magic flare whenever I’m near, as if it’s yearning to merge with mine again?”

For a moment, your breath hitched, and you hated yourself for the flicker of vulnerability that passed across your features. But you pushed it down, forcing yourself to meet his gaze without flinching. “It’s not longing. It’s a warning, a sign that I’ll burn you to ashes if you dare come any closer.”

Sebastian's smile widened, but there was something darkly affectionate in it now, a twisted sort of admiration. “That’s the Y/n I know. Fierce, unyielding… and so intoxicatingly dangerous.” He moved his hand from your face, letting it drift down to rest against your throat, feeling the pulse of your heartbeat beneath his palm.

“But if you truly wanted to destroy me, you would have done it by now. Admit it… you’re holding back.”

You wanted to scream, to lash out and send him reeling back with a wave of pure, searing energy. But his touch was maddeningly gentle, his words winding around you like a serpent, squeezing tighter with every breath. “I’m not holding back. I’m sparing you.”

“Sparing me, you say?” He laughed again, the sound rough and edged with disbelief. “No, my dear. You’re sparing yourself. You’re afraid of what it means if you unleash that power, afraid of losing control… afraid that, even at your most powerful, you still want me.”

Your eyes narrowed, the air around them growing colder, sharper, as if you could cut him with just a glance. “You want to see my power that bad, Sebastian? Fine.” your voice was deadly calm, a storm brewing behind every word. “But don’t blame me when it consumes you.”

Before he could react, your hands glowed with a fierce, blinding light, and you unleashed a torrent of energy that sent him crashing back, slamming against the wall with a force that shook the graveyard. The barrier around both of you flickered, straining under the weight of your unleashed magic.

This is for abandoning me when I needed you the most, you thought. This was for making me love you when you knew that I couldn't follow your ideals, that I wouldn't agree to it.

Sebastian coughed, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip, but he only seemed more amused. “Finally… I knew you had it in you,” he said, almost breathless, as if your attack had exhilarated him instead of scared him. “But that’s not enough. I need more.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, stepping closer, your hands still glowing, ready to strike again. “I’m done playing this game. I’m done letting you twist everything until I can’t tell if I want to kill you or—” you cut yourself off, the words catching in your throat, but it was too late.

Sebastian's eyes gleamed, his voice soft, coaxing. “Or what?” He took a step forward, ignoring the sparks that still crackled in the air, the raw energy that threatened to tear him apart. “Or love me? Or want me?”

The admission hung between you, unspoken yet palpable, like a shadow creeping across the room. Your breathing was ragged, your hands trembling. “I hate you,” you whispered, but your voice cracked, as if the words themselves couldn’t hold together.

I never stopped loving you. You wanted to tell him. You wanted to convince him to give up that crazy idea of his. But it was worthless to try.

He made up his mind.

He moved closer, slowly, as if approaching a wild, dangerous creature. “You can hate me all you want, but it doesn’t change the truth.” He reached out, gently taking your hand, his fingers warm against your icy skin. “You’re drawn to me, just as I’m drawn to you. We could destroy each other, tear this world apart… or we could embrace what we are and what we want.”

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You could feel your heart hammering, every instinct screaming at you to pull away, to end this once and for all. But there was something intoxicating in his words, a dark, forbidden promise that you couldn’t entirely ignore.

Better yet, you didn’t want to. You had missed him dearly.

You clenched your fist and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, your magic flickering like a dying flame. “I won’t let you consume me, Sebastian.”

He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “You already have.”

His expression shifted, his eyes darkening with a dangerous mix of desire and amusement. He didn’t let go of your hand, his lips lingering against your skin as if savoring the taste of it.

“Such fierce words,” he murmured, his breath warm against your knuckles. “But you forget, love… I’ve always thrived on your defiance.”

You shivered at the way he said your nickname, your body betraying you even as you tried to steady yourself. “Don’t… try to distract me,” you said, but your voice was softer, a hint of hesitation seeping through the cracks in your resolve. “I’m not falling for your games.”

Sebastian's smile widened, slow and knowing. “Is that so?” he said, tilting his head as he slowly moved closer, closing the space between them with a predatory grace. “Then why are you trembling, hm? Why do I see your breath hitch every time I touch you? Do you want something?”

He slid his hand up your arm, fingers trailing over the curve of your shoulder, and you felt heat bloom under his touch, spreading like wildfire. You tried to suppress the gasp that escaped you, but it was no use. His hands were firm yet gentle, coaxing a response from your body even as your mind screamed at you to resist.

That felt so wrong. That made you feel so dirty.

You truly hated him.

“You hate me, don’t you?” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of yoir ear, almost as if he knew what you were thinking. “Yet here you are, letting me get this close, letting me feel the way your heart races for me. You can’t deny it. You’re still mine.”

You clenched your fists, your magic crackling around you like embers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away, you were too tired to keep fighting and running away. “I’m not… yours,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder would break whatever fragile control you had left.

You were like a child afraid of the dark, pretending you could see and navigate it. But he knew better.

Sebastian's lips curved into a wicked smile. “Liar,” he whispered, and then his mouth was on yours, sudden and demanding, capturing your gasp of surprise. The kiss was fierce, almost bruising, as if he was determined to devour every protest you had left. Your hands shot up, fingers curling into the fabric of his clothes, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer - just like your pact demanded.

The kiss deepened, his tongue sliding against yours, coaxing, teasing, until your resolve began to melt under the heat of it. Every touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting sensations you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in so long.

It was maddening, intoxicating, and you hated how much you craved it.

Sebastian's hands roamed down your back, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him, and you felt the solid strength of his body, the warmth of his skin through the thin layers of fabric. “Tell me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough, “that you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.”

Your breath was ragged, your heart pounding as you tried to find the words, but they wouldn’t come. Instead, you found yourself tilting your head, giving him better access as his lips trailed down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Bastian… stop…” you whispered, but it was a weak, half-hearted plea, and you both knew it.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “You don’t sound very convincing, my dear,” he said, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips and pressing you even closer to him. “Maybe because deep down, you missed this just as much as I did.”

Your head swam, caught between the desire that burned through you and the voice in your mind that warned you against this, against him. But when his lips found yours again, slow and sensual this time, it was as if the world around you disappeared, leaving only the heat of his mouth, the firm hold of his hands, and the way he seemed to consume you completely.

He kissed you just like he kissed you when both of you were younger. With love and care. They were still lovers and yet, enemies.

“I could take you apart, piece by piece,” Sebastian whispered against your lips, his eyes dark and hungry as he held your gaze. “Make you forget everything but the way it feels when I’m touching you, the way your magic sings for me. Is that what you want?”

You felt your knees weaken, your breath stuttering as he trailed his fingers up your sides, grazing over the curves of your body. “I… I hate you,” you managed to say, but the words lacked the venom you intended, coming out more like a moan than a threat.

Sebastian's grin was sharp, dangerous. “Then show me,” he said, nipping at your lower lip before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “Hate me. Fight me. Make me believe it.”

But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him back down as you kissed him fiercely, pouring all your conflicted emotions into it — anger, desire, frustration, longing. It was a battle, a struggle for dominance, and yet it was also a surrender, a way of giving in without admitting defeat.

Sebastian groaned, the sound low and guttural, as if your touch was driving him to the brink of madness. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want to destroy me… and how much you want me.”

Your magic flared, the air around you crackling with energy, but this time it wasn’t a warning. It was a plea, a desperate, unspoken need that pulsed between them. “You’re poison,” you whispered, but even as you said it, your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin, the way his muscles tensed under your touch. “And I… I can’t get enough of it.”

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with triumph, but there was something almost tender in the way he looked at you, as if he could see straight through your defenses, straight to the core of your need. “Then let me be your poison, love,” he said softly, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss. “Let me consume you until there’s nothing left but us.”

And as you kissed him again, fierce and desperate, you realized you were already lost, already falling deeper into the abyss he had opened within you. It didn’t matter how much you fought it, or how many times you told yourself you didn’t want this. Because in that moment, with his hands on your body, his mouth claiming yours, you couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

You wanted him, even if it destroyed you.

You wanted him in the lonesome nights where your toys and fingers didn't make you cum. Or when you woke up from a hot dream to an empty bed that you could swear that smelled just like him.

Sebastian's hands roamed over your body, sliding down your back and cupping your hips, pulling your tight against him so you could feel every inch of his hard, unyielding frame. The air between you was thick, suffocating, but it only made you cling to him more, as if the heat of his skin was the only thing keeping you grounded.

“Y/n,” he breathed, the sound of your true name on his lips like a dark, seductive promise. His fingers slipped under the hem of your dress, teasing the sensitive skin of your thighs, drawing patterns that sent shivers coursing up your spine. “You can’t hide from this… from us.”

You gasped as his hands traveled higher, inching the fabric up, and your head fell back, eyes half-closed, lips parted as you tried to catch your breath. Every touch felt like a brand, searing your skin, marking you as his even though you wanted to deny it, even when you wanted to block everything he was doing and yet, feel everything.

As his lips trailed along the curve of your neck, down to your collarbone, you found yourself arching into him, silently begging for more.

“Stop playing with me,” you whispered, but your voice was trembling, betraying the way your body was already responding to his touch, the way it seemed to melt under his hands. “If you think this will make me surrender to you, you’re wrong.”

His lips curved into a wicked smile against your skin, and he bit down lightly, just enough to make you moan, a sound that sent a thrill of satisfaction through him. “Oh, but I love it when you surrender,” he said, his voice a dark, velvety murmur. “I love the way you tremble when I touch you, the way you can’t resist me even when you try so hard.”

He slid his hands up your sides, pushing the fabric of your dress higher, exposing the soft, bare skin beneath. His lips followed, trailing kisses down your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste you, savoring every inch of you like you were a forbidden delicacy. You squirmed under him, hands tangling in his hair, fingers tightening as you tried to anchor yourself, but it only seemed to drive him further, making him bolder.

“I can feel your magic,” he whispered, his voice low, breath hot against your skin as he slowly kneeled at your feet. “It’s pulsing, begging to be set free, just like you are. You can pretend you’re in control, but your body knows who it belongs to.”

Your breath hitched, and you hated the way his words made your pulse quicken, how your mind was growing foggy, clouded with the heat he was igniting in you. “You’re… you’re nothing but a curse,” you managed, but even as you said it, your voice was trembling, breathless.

Ruby eyes flicked up to meet yours, a slow, smug grin spreading across his lips. “Then let me be your curse, darling. Let me ruin you.” He kissed you again, but this time his lips were softer, teasing, as he pushed your black dress up higher, exposing more of you to his hungry gaze. “Because no matter how much you fight it, I know you want this… want me.”

You were trembling now, the last of your resistance crumbling as his hands moved higher, pushing the fabric up past your waist, exposing your thighs. The cool air hit your skin, and you shivered, but it was nothing compared to the heat that was pooling in your core, the way every nerve seemed to come alive under his touch.

“Bastian…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, as if saying his name would make this all more real, make it impossible to deny the way you were already arching into him, hips pressing against his, craving the friction, the contact.

Craving him.

His taste.

His touch.

Him.

He chuckled softly, a dark, knowing sound. “That’s it, darlin.” He murmured, his lips brushing against your navel, his hands slipping under the waistband of your undergarments, teasing the sensitive skin there. “Say my name. Let me hear you.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape, but he was relentless, his fingers sliding lower, dipping between your thighs, finding the wet heat that had already gathered there.

“So ready for me,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction, as he stroked you, slow and deliberate, drawing out every whimper, every gasp. “You can’t hide how much you want this. I won't let you.”

Your hips bucked against his hand, and you hated yourself for it, hated how easily he could unravel you, but you were too far gone to care. “You… bastard,” you managed, but your words were cut off by a moan as he slid a finger inside you, moving in slow, torturous motions.

His eyes darkened, and he leaned up, his lips hovering just above yours, teasing you with the promise of a kiss. “Call me whatever you like, my love,” he whispered, his breath hot against your lips. “As long as you keep moaning for me, I don’t care.”

He kissed you then, fierce and deep, swallowing the moan that spilled from your lips as he added another finger, his movements quickening, pushing you closer to the edge. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, and you could feel the way he smiled against your mouth, as if savoring every gasp, every shudder.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice low, teasing, as he broke the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You opened you mouth to say it, to tell him to stop, to end this before it went too far, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, all you could do was rock your hips against his hand, silently begging for more, pride and shame be damned.

His eyes gleamed with triumph, and he kissed you again, his tongue sliding against you as his fingers worked you faster, deeper, until you were panting, moaning, your legs wobbling as you forced yourself to steady them again.

“That’s it, love,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “Give in. Let yourself fall.”

And you did. You let yourself drown in the sensation, in the way he touched you, kissed you, as if he was trying to imprint himself on your very soul. It was a wild, reckless abandon, and you could feel yourself slipping, losing yourself to the heat, to the dark, seductive pull that was Sebastian.

“Bastian…” you moaned, your voice barely a whisper, but he heard it, and it seemed to spur him on, his fingers quickening, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“Yes, my love,” he whispered, his breath hot against you ear. “Let me hear you scream.”

And you did. When the climax hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, washing away everything but the sensation, the pure, blinding ecstasy that he had drawn out of you. You clung to him, your body shaking, your mind blank, as he kissed you through it, his hands holding you steady, grounding you even as you felt like you were falling apart.

When it was over, when the last of the tremors had faded, you collapsed against him, your body limp, spent, but he held you close, his hands stroking your back, soothing, tender.

“You can hate me all you want, my sweet nemesis,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “But you’ll always come back to me. Because you know, just as I do, that this is where you belong. With me, by my side, on my arms.”

And you hated that he was right. Hated that, even now, as you were cradled in his arms, your body still trembling from the pleasure he had given you, you couldn’t deny the truth.

You were his, no matter how much you tried to fight it.

But he was also yours.

As your pact demanded.

Even now, you could feel it pulsing; your connection vibrating till your head aches, your lungs being filled with his magic, his influence, his love.

At that moment, you hated that you had a blood pact that stopped you from killing him right here and right now.

Sebastian's lips barely left yours as he maneuvered your body, lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing at all and you screamed; caught off guard and holding onto his shoulders for support. There was a hunger in his eyes, a dark, insatiable craving that seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. You barely registered what was happening until your back pressed against something cold and hard, the scent of earth and decay creeping into your senses.

Your eyes widened as you glanced down, realizing where he had placed you — on top of the stone-cold tomb, your mother's tomb. Panic surged through you, but Sebastian's body pressed against yours, pinning you down, his hands gripping your wrists tightly, forcing you to look at him instead.

“Do you see now?” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent as he gazed at you, a wild, desperate look in his eyes. “You try to lie and betray what you really think, you try to escape me. But do you see how close I am to possessing everything you are, everything you’ve tried to keep from me? You can’t escape me, love. You never could.”

You struggled against him, your nails digging into his skin, your magic wavering, but he was too strong, his weight pinning your down, his grip unyielding, as he absorbed every single drop of you powers.

“Bastian… stop… stop this madness!” your gasped, trying to twist your wrists free, but he only tightened his hold, a dark, twisted smile spreading across his lips as he savored your desperation and fear. “This is sick…”

“Is it?” He asked, his tone mocking as he leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Or is it just the perfect way to show you that you can’t escape your destiny… or me? You’re mine, love. Body and soul. And you always will be, i'm just reminding you, my dear.”

Your breath hitched as his lips trailed down your neck, kissing, biting, leaving marks on your skin that felt like brands. The cold, unforgiving surface beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of his mouth, the way his hands roamed over your body, claiming you, his fingers toying with your clit in a slow motion as his other hand was fondling and pinching your nipples.

It was wrong, twisted, and yet, you couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, your mind clouded with a dark, consuming desire. Yet, you struggled, biting and scratching him like a rabid cat.

“Look at her,” he whispered, his lips barely brushing you as he forced you head to turn, making you see the carved stone, the name of you mother etched into it, faded and worn with time. “She’s watching, love. Watching how her daughter, the one who fought so hard to be free, is losing herself to me, a demon, the same demon she used to hate.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears, your chest tightening as you stared at the name, the reality of it twisting like a knife in your gut. “Sebastian, please…” you managed, but it wasn’t a plea for mercy. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore.

He silenced you with a kiss, harsh and unyielding, as if trying to crush the resistance out of you. “No more begging,” he growled, his voice rough, a hint of cruelty seeping through. “I want you to feel this. I want you to understand that no matter how much you hate me, you can’t stop wanting me. You’ll take everything I give you, right here, right now.”

With a swift, fluid motion, he tore the remaining fabric from your body, leaving you exposed on the cold stone. You gasped, the shock of it, the cold biting into your skin, but his hands were already on you, touching, teasing, driving your senses to the brink.

You were lost battling your disgust and lust, your guilty and love. And he could see you fighting, and losting, even if you didn't realized it.

“Sebastian… no… not here,” you pleaded, but he didn’t care.

He smiled, a dark, possessive smile as his hands slid down your body, forcing your legs apart, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. “Yes… here,” he said, his voice low, almost soothing, as if trying to lull you into submission. “Where she can see, where she can understand that you belong to me, and there’s nothing she could ever do to change that.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of fear and arousal making your head spin. “This… this isn’t love,” yoi said. "And that's why I hate you."

Sebastian's eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice soft, almost tender. “It’s something far more powerful. It’s obsession. It’s possession. It’s the way I’ll break you and put you back together, over and over, until there’s nothing left of you but what I’ve made.”

He slid his hands under your thighs, lifting your hips, positioning himself against you, and you felt the hard, unyielding press of him, the promise of what was to come. “And you’ll take it, won’t you?” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours, daring you to deny it. “Because deep down, you want this. You want me.”

His voice was hypnotic, his tone demanding you to follow his orders.

You opened your mouth to protest, to scream, but the words never came. Instead, you found yourself nodding, your body betraying you, a tear slipping down your cheek as you realized how utterly lost you were; what wicked thing he just did.

“Yes…” you whispered, and it was the only word you could manage, forced by his magic to give in to his whims.

You hated that your lover was forcing you to do something like this. When you were younger, you swore you would protect and love each other, this was definitely not love.

Sebastian's smile was triumphant, and he kissed you, slow and deep, as he thrust into you, filling you completely, claiming you in a way that was as much about power as it was about pleasure. You cried out, your back arching, your hands clawing at the stone beneath you, but he didn’t give you a chance to breathe, to think.

He set a brutal, relentless pace, his hips snapping against yours, driving you closer and closer to the edge as he used his fingers to rub you clit.

“Feel it, love,” he murmured, his voice rough, breathless, as he kissed the tears from your cheeks. “Feel how I own you. How I’ve always owned you. Feel your body betraying you and giving in to me.”

Every thrust was like a jolt, sending shockwaves through your body, and you could feel yourself unraveling, coming apart under him, your mind slipping into a haze of pleasure and pain. You didn’t want this, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but your body was betraying you, your hips rising to meet his, your moans filling the air, mixing with the sound of your bodies colliding as your mouth searched for his.

His grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, bruising, marking you. “Say it, wife” he commanded, his voice low, demanding. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell your mother you're mine.”

You could barely breathe, your chest heaving, but you managed to force the words out, a broken, desperate whisper. “I’m yours…”

And that was all he needed. He drove into you harder, faster, his movements frantic, like he was trying to consume you, to burn you from the inside out. Your vision blurred, your body shaking as you felt yourself shatter, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, drowning you in a sea of sensation.

He followed you over the edge, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he spilled into you, his hands still holding you tight, as if afraid you would slip away. For a moment, the world seemed to stop, and there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, the feel of his body pressed against yours, the lingering heat of his desire.

When it was over, he didn’t move, didn’t release you. Instead, he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin, his hands gentle now, almost tender as they stroked your hair. “You’re mine, love,” he whispered, and there was something almost soft in his voice, a dark, twisted affection. “And nothing will ever change that.”

You lay there, numb, your body aching, your mind reeling. You had lost, utterly and completely, and as you stared up at the dark, empty sky, you realized that there was no escape. Not from him. Not from the poison that was Sebastian.

And worst of all, you wasn’t even sure you wanted to.

Sebastian stayed still, his breath hot against your neck, his hands roaming over your skin in languid, possessive strokes. You lay beneath him, your body trembling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. It was as if every part of you had been claimed, bound to him by invisible chains that tightened with every passing moment, feeding right onto their pact.

The cold, unyielding stone of your mother's tomb pressed against your back, a grim reminder of where you were, of how far he had dragged you into the dark depths of his obsession. But despite the sickening realization, there was a heat inside you that you couldn’t deny, a fire he had ignited that refused to be extinguished.

You hated him for it. You hated yourself even more.

Sebastian lifted his head, his eyes gleaming in the dim light, and he looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and something almost like tenderness, but twisted, perverse. “Look at you,” he murmured, tracing his fingers down your cheek, along your jaw, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. “So beautiful, even when you’re broken. Especially when you’re broken.”

You swallowed, your throat dry, your lips swollen and bruised from his kisses. “You’re sick,” you whispered, your voice hoarse, but there was no strength behind the words, no defiance left in you. “Fucking twisted.”

Sebastian chuckled softly, brushing his lips against yours in a mockingly gentle kiss. “And yet you’re still here, beneath me, letting me do whatever I want to you. Tell me, darling, if I’m so sick, what does that make you?”

You turned your head away, trying to escape his gaze, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “No, no… don’t turn away. I want to see your eyes when you finally admit it,” he said, his tone soft, coaxing. “Admit that you want this. That you want me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “I don’t want you,” you told him, your voice shaking, but Sebastian only smiled, as if he could see straight through you, as if he could read the truth buried beneath the surface.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear, his voice a low, intimate murmur. “Pretty liar,” he breathed, his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Y/n, your mind doesn't lie. I know you like it. You were so wet for me, making all that cute noises. With enough time, I could get you used to me again.”

Your breath hitched, a sob choking in your throat, and you hated how weak you felt, how powerless, how disgusting everything was. “Why?” you whispered, barely audible, but he heard you, his expression softening, if only for a moment.

“Because I need you,” he said, and there was an intensity in his eyes, a raw, desperate need that seemed to swallow her whole. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being free, of you being anywhere but here, with me. You drive me to madness, love, and I won’t rest until you’re completely mine again.”

He moved his hips, a slow, deliberate grind that made you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as the sensation sparked through you, reigniting the embers of desire. “And I will have you,” he murmured, his lips tracing a path down your throat, over your collarbone. “Over and over, until there’s nothing left but me. Forget the dead, the war, the angels and the world, focus only on me.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the way your body responded to his touch, the way your pulse quickened, your skin react to his touch. “You don’t own me,” you said.

He laughed softly, a dark, dangerous sound, and he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his own burning with a fierce, possessive light. “No? Then why do you keep letting me do this?” he asked, his hands sliding down your sides, his thumbs brushing over your hips in a way that made your shudder. “Why do you melt every time I touch you? I was under the impression you were strong. A strong and proud angel. A soft, little angel that I enjoyed to corrupt."

You wanted to deny it, to scream at him, but the words caught in your throat, tangled up with the moans that you were desperately trying to hold back. His lips curled into a knowing smile, and he dipped his head, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless, and even when you bit him hard enough for him to hiss in pain and make blood run down his lips, he was happy.

Glowing even.

“How feisty, is my little kitten wanting to tell me something?” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot, intoxicating. “But you can’t fight it. You don’t want to fight it. You want to give in, to let me consume you, because it feels so good, doesn’t it? To just… let go. You've been fighting for so long while everyone was resting, my good little soldier. But you can rest too. And will now.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind spinning, and for a moment, you let yourself drown in the sensation, in the heat of his body, the press of his lips, the way he made you feel like you were on fire. It was dangerous, addictive, and you hated how much you craved it, even as you knew it was destroying you.

It was disgusting to do that there. Even more, it was horrible that he asked you to forget the dead when he knew half of your family was slaughtered on that damned war.

When his family was slaughtered.

“Sebastian…” you whispered, your voice breaking, and you weren't even sure what you were pleading for anymore. For him to stop, for him to keep going, for some kind of release from the twisted, suffocating web he had woven around you or for him to make the pain in your chest stop.

The world got blurry as new tears slowly started to fall down your eyes.

But he just smiled, a dark, triumphant smile, and he kissed you again, slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of your surrender. “You’re mine, angel,” he said softly, his hands cradling your face, his eyes locking onto yours, holding you captive. “And I will never let you go. Not even in death.”

He shifted, pressing you down harder against the cold stone, and you could feel the way he trembled, as if barely holding himself back, as if the need to possess you, to claim you, was threatening to consume him. “Do you understand?” he whispered, his voice low, dangerous. “No one else will ever touch you. No one else will ever have you. Only me.”

Your lips parted, a ragged breath escaping as you stared up at him, your vision blurred, your thoughts scattered. “Only you…” you repeated, and it felt like a surrender, a quiet, desperate admission that you had lost, that there was no escape from the darkness that he had drawn you into.

Sebastian's eyes gleamed, and he dipped his head, his lips grazing yours in a whisper of a kiss, as if sealing a promise, a curse. “Good girl,” he murmured, and there was a twisted, dark affection in his voice, as if he were rewarding you for giving in. “Now… let me show you just how deep my love runs.”

And with that, he moved, driving into you with a force that stole your breath, your body arching beneath him as he took you, claimed you, right there on your mother's tomb, the ultimate desecration, the final, brutal reminder that you were his, and there was no escaping it.

The night was silent, the only sounds the ragged, desperate rhythm of their bodies, the gasps and moans that escaped your lips, the harsh, possessive growls that rumbled from his throat. It was madness, a dark, twisted dance of pleasure and pain, and you found yourself lost in it, unable to distinguish where one ended and the other began.

And as Sebastian pushed you further and further, driving you to the brink, you realized with a sickening clarity that you would always be lost to him, that no matter how far you tried to run, how hard you tried to fight, he would always find you, always drag you back into the darkness that he had made you crave.

⠀

Hours passed, the dark, suffocating graveyard silent except for the echoes of your labored breaths. Your body was spent, a dull ache thrumming through your limbs, your skin slick with sweat. The stone beneath you was warm from how long you spent laying right there, but you barely noticed it anymore - if anything, you asked your mother for forgiveness.

All you could feel was the lingering heat, the way your skin still tingled where his hands had touched you, branded you.

Sebastian's form loomed over you, his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips curved in a smug, satisfied smile. He looked down at you, his eyes dark, but there was a flicker of something almost tender, as if he were savoring the sight of you — disheveled, exhausted, yet still beautiful in your submission.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the contrast. The same hands that had held you down, that had claimed you with such force, now caressed you as if you were something fragile, precious.

He always treated you with such care after sex; even if you didn't see eye to eye anymore. He pressed yet another kiss to your cheek, wiping another annoying tear from your eyes.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low, a lazy drawl. “Absolutely stunning… just as I imagined.”

Your eyelids felt heavy, your mind hazy, caught somewhere between reality and the remnants of your feverish encounter. You wanted to speak, to say something, but the words slipped away before they could form. All you could do was lie there, your body limp, spent, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from you.

And it really had, as he had forced your pact to work in his favor.

He shifted, settling beside you on the cold, unforgiving stone, his arm draped possessively over your waist as he pulled you closer to his side, letting you hide your face on his chest.

“You’re mine, love,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, the words a soft, dark promise. “Never forget that, wife, for I'm not a forgiving husband, even if we're fighting on opposite sides and if you ever have another lover, I'II kill them without thinking twice.”

You turned your head, your gaze meeting his, and for a moment, you saw something in his eyes that startled you — a flicker of vulnerability, a hint of something more than just dark obsession. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that same triumphant, predatory gleam.

You swallowed, your throat dry, your voice barely more than a whisper. “You… you got what you wanted,” you said, though you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question, a desperate plea for something you couldn’t quite name.

Sebastian's smile widened, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your skin. “Yes, I did,” he said, his voice a murmur, almost tender. “But it’s not enough, my love. It will never be enough. I’ll keep you here, by my side, until you understand that there’s no escape from me. No freedom.”

Your breath hitched, your heart clenching at the finality of his words, but you were too tired to fight, too lost in the haze of exhaustion and desire to muster any defiance. You closed your eyes, letting his voice wash over you, a dark lullaby that pulled you deeper into a strange, uneasy calm.

Sebastian pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering, as if savoring the taste of your skin. “Rest, my dear,” he murmured, his voice soothing, almost gentle. “We have all the time in the world. And I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

Your body grew heavy, your mind drifting, and as sleep began to pull you under, you felt the weight of his arm around you, a dark, inescapable chain that held you fast. Even in your dreams, you knew you would not escape him.

With you on his arms, he teleported back to his domains. And when you woke up again, you'd be like a bird in a pretty cage, trapped forever.

#kuroshitsuji sebastian #sebastian #yandere sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #yandere sebastian x you #sebastian michaelis x you #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x y/n #sebastian x you #yandere sebastian x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #tw noncon #tw yandere #tw dubcon #smut

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haddonfieldwhore · 2 years ago

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scary dog privilege pt4- ethan landry

ethan landry x alt! reader ❥ FINAL PART

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

3.3k words // part 3

warnings: mentions of death, language, blood/gore, violence, angst, slight changes from the movie, this is long lol, there may be an epilogue in the works ;)

❥ taglist: @breadbowser @lillunna @fanboyluvr @wroetoslut @gojosbucket @not3rracha @wenvierismycomfort @homebyeleven

you held onto ethan’s arm as you were shoved around as you all pushed through the crowded subway, trying to catch the train. you, ethan, and mindy fell behind, and despite chad trying to hold the door open, the three of you missed the train. mindy didn’t realize you and ethan were behind her, and still convinced that ethan was one of the killers, she told you both to stay away from her. standing a few feet down the platform from her, you waited for the next train as you saw her typing on her phone, probably texting the rest of the group to let them know she missed the train.

“it’s okay, there’s another one in 5 minutes. trains run all the time at this hour,” ethan reassured you. you gave him a small smile.

“okay,” you sighed. you waited for the next train to stop as it pulled in, and you and ethan got on together, and you were glad to see that mindy had gotten on at the next door. the train, much to your horror, was full of people in masks for halloween, many in ghostface masks. the fear you had felt when you had been attacked at sam and tara’s apartment came flashing back to you, and you buried your face in ethan’s chest. his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close. you had 10 stops until you got to the theatre, and they could not go fast enough.

“it’s okay, shhh, you’re okay,” he murmured. you tried to calm your breathing as the train sped down the track. you glanced over to see if you could see mindy, but with all the people on the subway you had lost sight of her. the lights flickered on and off, and you closed your eyes as you held on to ethan.

finally arriving at your stop, you waited for there to be room to walk to the door when you saw mindy slumped against the back of the train car, bleeding from her stomach.

“mindy! oh my god,” you yelled, as you and ethan let go of eachother and ran over to help her up.

“shit!” ethan exclaimed. “oh fuck. somebody help- call 911!” ethan yelled as the two of you carried her off the train and leaned her against a pillar. emergency officials rushed over and called for medical assistance, and mindy groaned as ethan asked if she was okay.

“yeah i’m sooo good- fuck!” she replied, groaning in pain. “i got it wrong again,” she groaned as you held your hands over the stab wound to stop the bleeding.

“fuck this franchise,” mindy seethed.

•

after making sure mindy made it to the hospital and was going to be okay, you and ethan stepped out into the hallway.

“we should go meet up with the others?” ethan suggested.

“is it selfish to say we could just stay here?” you asked.

“no- to be honest i was kinda hoping you would say you wanted to stay here instead. i feel like the odds of getting attacked in the hospital are a lot lower,”

“i think they might need our help though,” you sighed, resigning to the fact that you knew it was the right thing to do, no matter how stupid.

“yeah i know. let’s go,” ethan sighed, leading you outside to call a cab to the theatre.

once you arrived, the two of you found the door to be locked.

“maybe there’s a back entrance?” you suggested, and ethan followed you around to the back of the building as you looked for another way in, and you found a rusty fire escape.

“of course,” you muttered. testing if it would hold your weight, ethan held his hands on your hips in case you fell as you started climbing up the stairs. once you got to the top, you pulled ethan up until you both stood in front of the door.

“ready?”

“no,” you shook your head, but grabbed the door handle anyway, pulling it open with a creak. ethan followed behind you, as you stepped inside onto the balcony seating area of the theatre.

“let’s find a way down,” ethan said. you walked around, looking for a way to get to the main floor, until you reached the stairs.

“here- ethan,” you whispered, gesturing for him to follow you down the stairs. as you reached the bottom of the stairs, sam ran towards you holding a knife.

“where the hell did you two come from- where’s mindy?!” she asked.

“there’s a fire escape out back- mindy was attacked on the subway; we came from the hospital,” ethan explained.

“oh my god. we have to find tara and chad, kirby’s the killer- or one of them.”

“what?” you asked, and she grabbed your arm, and you heard a scream from the other room and sam dragged you towards it. tara and chad burst through the door as you reached it, almost running into eachother.

“come on!” sam yelled, dropping your arm to grab tara. you all ran towards the stage, stopping when the killer jumped out, sending you all scrambling, separating the group amongst the display cases. the killer slashed at you, the knife cutting into your side, and you screamed. you held your hand over the wound to try to stop the bleeding, as chad picked up a large video camera and swung it at the killer knocking them to the ground. before you could all get away, the killer grabbed at ethan’s ankle as you ran past them, pulling him to the ground.

“nooo!” you yelled, trying to go back for him, but chad grabbed onto you and pulled you with him and the two sisters as the killer dragged ethan off. you could hear him screaming, and you cried as you ran down a hallway behind the stage, ending up back in the room where you had found chad and tara before. chad knocked over the popcorn machine to block the doorway, but the killer jumped over it.

tara screamed as the killer slashed at her, and you noticed she was bleeding from a stab wound on her back already, which she must’ve have gotten earlier when you heard the screaming. sam and tara grabbed hold of the killer, the three of them slamming against the concession bar, the killer falling to the floor. tara kicked them in the head, and sam pulled you and tara towards the door as chad lifted a gumball machine over his head, ready to slam it down onto the killers head.

he was stopped when a knife went into his side, and tara screamed, a second killer having appeared, and the two of them stabbed chad repeatedly. dropping his body to the floor, the wipes the blood from their knives in sync, and you and sam finally managed to pull tara back to the main room. running towards the centre of the room, one of the killers jumped out in front of you. tara screamed as the other one appeared behind you, blocking both directions. sam handed each of you a brick off the floor, and asked if you were ready.

“look at me; i need you to be ready. ready?” she asked. tara screamed “come on motherfucker,” before bullets flew past you and the killers dove out of sight. kirby, bleeding from her forehead walked out from by the stage, her gun still aimed towards where the killers had been.

“it’s alright!” she said.

“we know it’s you kirby,” tara spat.

“no, one of them knocked me out-“ she started, but was interrupted by detective bailey.

“kirby, get away from the girls!” he yelled, aiming his own gun at her.

“don’t listen to him. whatever he told you he’s lying. he’s probably the killer,” kirby said, before yelling to look out as one of the ghostfaces appeared behind him. the killer stopped next to the detective as bailey shot kirby twice, sending her flying backwards to the floor. the three of you turned to look at the cop, who smiled as the two ghostfaces appeared beside him. “great job; both of you,” he said to the two of them.

“…you?” sam asked.

“yeah- of course me,” bailey smirked.

“then… who?” tara stuttered, and the taller ghostface began to remove their mask.

“ethan?” you whispered, feeling like you had been kicked in the stomach as he smiled wide.

“mindy was right. it was easy to juke the roomate lottery. all i had to do to meet you, was room with a conceited, condescending alpha- literally named chad. fuck it felt good to kill him!” he yelled, his eyes wild. “this was your grandmothers sam… nancy loomis? really runs in your fucking family doesn’t it,” ethan spat at her. “speaking of family- my names not ethan landry; is it dad?” he turned to detective bailey.

“dad?” tara repeated, and ethan and bailey laughed.

“if it’s you then who…. “ sam said, looking at the other ghostface. her sentence trailed off, and the second killer took off their mask to reveal bright orange hair.

“quinn?”

“heyyy roomies,” she sang. “bet you didn’t see that one coming did ya?”

“yeah cause you died!” tara exclaimed.

“kinda didn’t…” she trailed off. “easy way to get off the suspect list though.”

“it was you… at the apartment..” you said to ethan, recognizing the mask. his smile dropped slightly, and you though you detected a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he looked at you.

“yeah it was him. you were supposed to die you know, but my son you see he really has grown quite fond of you,” the detective said, patting ethan on the back. you felt like your insides had been twisted around, your stomach felt upside down as you realized that the person you had felt so safe with, was the same person you had been so afraid of. ethan and quinn circled around the room, ethan placing the mask he held onto a mannequin wearing nancy loomis’ blazer.

“i got stu machers mask; he was my favourite,” quinn explained.

“that’s three,” bailey said, pointing at nancys mask. he pointed at the one quinn had next. “that’s two…and this… was your fathers, sam. i’m gonna need you to put it on,” detective bailey pulled a dirtied ghostface mask out of his jacket and held it out towards her.

“fuck you!” she yelled, slapping the mask away. “so what you did this as a family?” sam asked.

“we’re gonna show the world, the killer that you really are.” bailey explained.

“and then what? what you just disappear?”

“nah, after this we gotta hurry over to the hospital to make sure mindy and gale don’t pull through!” he laughed.

“whatever you think i didn’t commit those murders; it wasn’t me!“ sam pleaded.

“we know that! what do you think this is, just based of some bullshit conspiracy theory? who do you think started all those rumours about you in the first place?” bailey asked, and quinn raised her hand, holding a knife loosely in her grip.

“do you know how easy it was to turn sam from the hero of woodsboro, into the villain? how easy it is to make people believe the worst in someone, rather than the best?” quinn taunted.

“because it’s not enough to just kill someone these days. you have to assassinate their character first. so when the cops find your mutilated body posed over you sisters corpse wearing your fathers mask, they’ll say that you’re the real ghostface killer, and someone took things into their own, deluded hands” ethan went on.

“because you- are a killer sam,”

“no i’m not!!“ sam yelled desperately.

”yes you are you motherfucker you killed our brother!” quinn yelled, stepping closer with the knife pointed at the three of you.

“you said your brother died in a car crash,” tara said.

“no no no, he died in woodsboro; at the hands of your bitch sister,” he said, the three of them circled around you, sam, and tara.

“you’re richies family,” sam realized, bailey nodding yes tearfully.

“ding ding ding! i think she finally starting to get it!” ethan yelled, laughing as him and quinn ran around the three of you, ethan stabbing sam in the chest just below her collarbone. quinn slashed at you, creating a gash on your arm, and you swore you saw ethan send her a nasty glare.

detective bailey, now standing on the stage explained that everything here in the shrine had belonged to richie; that he helped him build this collection.

“there’s a special bond, between a father, and his first born son,” you glanced at ethan, who stared up at his father, his eyes wet with tears. bailey turned back to sam, holding the mask out towards her again.

“he was… so pathetic,” sam spoke.

“that’s not true!”

“he was a man baby, who made his girlfriend do all the killing,”

“he was a strong, virile young man-“

“he was a limp dick little fuck, who cried before i slit his throat,” sam spat.

“shut the fuck up!” quinn yelled, and charged at tara, who swung the brick she was holding into her face, knocking the redhead to the ground, where she spat out blood and a few of her teeth. kirby had come to, and shot at detective bailey before ethan tackled her to the ground.

“recognize this?” he asked, before stabbing her in the abdomen where she told you all she had been stabbed before. sam tackled him off of her, taking the knife out of kirby’s stomach and stabbing ethan with it. you stood, frozen in place as ethan collapsed to the floor, blood dripping down his black costume. despite all common sense, and everything you knew he had done, you felt an ache in your heart for the shy, curly haired boy.

“sam this way!” tara called, and her and sam ran towards a ladder to the balcony, which led to the fire escape you and ethan had come in through earlier.

“ethan…” you whimpered, and he looked you up and down, walking towards you.

“you know chad was right; you really did choose a terrible time to join the friend group,” he said, his voice sympathetic.

“don’t do this, please,”

“i… i really do like you, you know. if we’d met on another night maybe things could’ve been different,” he said, groaning as he held his hand to a stab wound on his shoulder.

“they could be- just stop-“

“oh you sweet dumb thing; you know i can’t,” he stepped closer to you, standing just inches away from you, and your back hit one of the display cases, trapping you between it and his body. “i really never wanted to hurt you.”

“so don’t.” you wrapped your hand around his wrist that held the knife, and he looked at you softly, before his pressed his lips to yours, letting you take the knife from his hand. perhaps in a moment of weakness, you kissed him back, tears forming in your eyes as his lips moved against yours roughly.

you gasped into his mouth as you felt a knife go into your back, and you collapsed into ethan’s arms as he yelled out. the knife in your hand fell to the floor as quinn stabbed you again, twisting the knife around.

“no-,” ethan stuttered, before quinn pushed him hard in the shoulder, and he groaned in pain.

“don’t lose focus,” she said pointing towards sam and tara who were moving towards the exit. leaning against the glass case, quinn stabbed you in the stomach while ethan was distracted.

“i told you not to hurt them!” he yelled at his sister, who in return spat blood in his face and pushed him towards the ladder leading to the balcony. quinn ran towards the stairs to cut them off from the other side.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, crouching down to press a kiss to your forehead before he went after the sisters. you heard a gun go off and tara scream, and your vision started to go cloudy. you could see sam holding onto tara by the arms as she dangled over the edge of the balcony.

“i can’t … i can’t grab on!” she cried, her voice fading out as you started to lose consciousness. ethan stood below tara, swinging the knife at her feet as she tried to hold on to sam. you could see quinn appear on the other side of sam, smiling as blood dripped from her mouth, and as you slumped to the floor, you watched at tara let go, landing on top of ethan and stabbing him in the shoulder. his body fell to the floor a few feet from yours, his mouth filling with blood and his eyes wide, staring at you as your eyes fluttered closed.

•

you winced as your eyes were met with a bright light, and you felt like you were moving. more specifically, you realized you were on a gurney, a light blue blanket wrapped around you as you were rolled towards an ambulance, the daylight hurting your eyes as you regained consciousness.

“hey, i thought we lost you!” you looked to see sam next to you, tara close behind her. kirby was being loaded into another ambulance.

“is it…over?” you asked hesitantly. despite everything he did, you still couldn’t process the fact that ethan was dead.

“it’s over. i’m.. i’m sorry,” sam offered, and you gave her a sad smile.

“i guess he wasn’t who i thought he was,” you tried to brush it off, but as much as you wanted to pretend it wasn’t true, you had fallen for the curly haired boy in the very short time you knew him. “i’m sorry about chad,” you said to the sisters, and tara began to cry.

“hey we got another one over here!” you heard someone yell, and you saw chad being wheeled out on another stretcher, the same blue blanket over him and an oxygen mask over his face.

“chad!” tara yelled, and sam gave you a smile before going after her sister who had run over to him. as the paramedics lifted the gurney you were on into the back of the ambulance, you thought about what anika had said; aren’t things like this supposed to bring people together? you sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by the thoughts of everything that had happened in the last three days. exhausted, you closed your eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep.

•

it was the next day when you woke up in the hospital, and you looked around to see sam sat in the chair next to your bed. she noticed you were awake, and smiled.

“hey,” she said softly. “how are you feeling?”

“i’ve been better,” you answered honestly. “don’t take this the wrong way but..”

“why am i here?” she laughed. “i .. thought you might … need a friend. and tara and chad won’t stop making googly eyes at eachother and kirby’s asleep so-“ she answered honestly, and you smiled.

“thank you, sam. i’ll be okay.” you assured her. “you should be with your friends.”

“maybe … they could be your friends too. if you want,” she offered.

“i think i’d be okay with that,” you smiled. “but i think i need time to just be by myself for now. just until i can wrap my head around what happened.”

“i get it. but if you ever need anything; you have us. survivors gotta stick together,” she smiled, heading out the door before she stopped, sticking her head back into your room. “i’m.. really sorry about ethan. i know what that’s like; if you ever want to talk.” you thanked her, and she left to find her sister and her friends. staring at the ceiling, you closed you eyes, letting out a long exhale.

your eyes snapped open as you heard your phone buzz on the table next to you, you winced as you moved to grab it, pain shooting through your back, and you hoped that you hadn’t ripped any stitches. your eyes went wide as you looked at the notification on your screen.

unknown number: miss me yet?

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry one shot #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fic #scream #scream 6 #scream 6 spoilers #jack champion #jack champion fic

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sketchyelvenasss · 1 year ago

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Love and Lost

Angst anyone? I got some for you.

Act 2: On the approach to moonrise. The spires are visible through the shadow curse. Dark and ominous like sentinels watching rats.

Astarion was on edge. Anxious and at war with himself. He caught himself staring at Orville more and more. Didn’t notice how close they stood together until he moved away. How the distance then suddenly felt keen and lonesome.

The tiefling too sought him out often. To caress his hair, or run a hand up his back to steal a kiss. Some nights he’d visit his tent not for sex, or to feed him, but to simply be. He would bring his lute to tune as he sat beside him. It wouldn’t be until Orville got up when he realized his tail had curled round some part of Astarion, who had fallen asleep on top of his bedroll. A couple hours later the elf would wake to find his warm fleece blanket had been laid over him. Orville was sleeping on the ground with his back to him, still completely clothed and his bare feet the only part of him to be tucked under the blanket.

He grimaced at the awful feeling in his chest. He had no idea what to do. This had become much more than it was ever meant to be. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help the feeling of wanting it. What scared him worse than that was the thought he could lose him if the tiefling knew the secret he had been keeping, but the weight of the guilt was threatening to break him. Part of him wanted to run away, to protect himself. It would be easier than facing his fear, but Astarion wanted to try. He wanted to treat Orville, as Orville had treated him. The sparrow deserved to know the truth about what happened to his mother and only Astarion knew. How could he hope to pursue whatever this was while constantly fearing the end because of what he had done?

It took Astarion days to muster up the courage to broach the subject. Orville hadn’t come to his tent so he sought him out instead. The tiefling was around the fire with the others. His smile was as bright as the flames. If Astarion’s heart still beat surly it would be pounding in his ears.

He almost lost the will to go through with telling him then. For once in his life he wanted to protect that light, to let him keep smiling. But this was necessary. He didn’t want to keep lying to him anymore.

“Do you have a moment? I… we need to talk.” Astarion took the opportunity to grab Orville’s attention when the attention of the others had moved off of him.

“Yeah, sure hun. What’s the occasion—“ Orville laughed, but the merriment quickly fell from his voice when he met Astarion’s eyes. “What’s wrong? You look sick.” He said getting up and ushering them over to his tent.

“Yes. Well I suppose I am. In more than one way.” Astarion squirmed under the gaze of those vibrant blue eyes. They were full of concern that he didn’t deserve now.

Orville studied the other’s face with growing anxiety, his tail whipping from side to side, as Astarion confessed his failed plan. The pained look in those sanguine eyes told of his sincerity and Orville believed him. He loved him. But still the revelation stung, and he couldn’t help feeling stupid for falling for it so completely.

“So all this time—the nights we spent together. They meant nothing to you?”

“Of course they did! That’s the problem—or part of it. Being close to someone— any kind of intimacy— was something I performed to lure people back for him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels…tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust and loathing. I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to.”

As Astarion explained, Orville’s indignation ebbed. If things had happened differently in his childhood he could’ve followed in his mother’s footsteps. As he grew up among the brothel employees, he had to swallow his disgust anytime they would suggest he make a “more honest” living. They had meant well, but he was beyond grateful he never resorted to that— even while he was on his way to the gallows. He never regretted his life. At least he had had the choice. “I understand. I care about you, deeply. Dare I say, I love you?”

“Really?” Astarion’s eyes lit up and the corner of his mouth pulled into an embarrassed smile before quickly falling again. “I’m most likely about to fix that.” He whispered, averting his gaze too afraid to even see his face.

“You deserve to know that it’s my fault. It’s my fault that your mother is gone.”

“What?” Orville’s eyes went wide. What did he say? He couldn’t really mean that… right?

“You are just like her. Beautiful and kind. She wanted somewhere quiet, just to talk… and I led her to Cazador. I couldn’t—I…I’m sorry.”

Orville felt cold. Numb. Like he had fallen into a void. There was no anger or sadness. He didn’t know what to think or how he was supposed to respond. Were his ears ringing or was someone talking to him? His knees hurt. And he opened his eyes to realize his legs had given out. Astarion was standing close with the most concerned expression he had ever seen on him. There was a sudden constricting pain in Orville’s chest from everything he was trying to feel at once. “I need you to not be here right now.” He managed to hoarsely choke out.

For a moment Astarion looked like he wanted to stay, but he silently left. The night grew cold around Orville as the tears came to him. He had already mourned Lilly long ago, but somehow knowing for sure that she was dead brought everything back. It was worse knowing how she must have suffered and died worrying what would happen to her son. His heart felt used and raw, but he was eventually able to get up and lumber to his bedroll inside his tent.

The fleece blanket warmed his numb limbs as he stared up at the canvas. Orville had every reason to hate Astarion. The dejected expression on the elf’s face proved he had expected that reaction. After what he did to Lilly and him, no one would blame Orville for holding on to his anger. But as he laid in bed, the resentment he had initially felt subsided. Despite reason he had an achy want to be with him then. To be comforted by him. It warmed his heart to know that Astarion had feelings for him. He appreciated his honesty to show his sincerity. But tears pooled in his eyes again at the thought of going to talk to him. He wiped his face, the mask paint smearing off on his arm, before he rolled over on his side.

He needed time to process all the conflicting emotions he felt.

#bg3 #astarion #tavstarion #astarion acunin #my writing #orville tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #twin daggers

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sweaterkittensahoy · 7 months ago

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JackHarding big time love feelings and idiots and their gallbladders

My dear, darling, perfect Jack:

Before you think I'm writing this after being given however much pain medicine military doctors think is needed for an impacted gallbladder (that's the problem, by the way), know that I am writing this between being told my diagnosis and that I'll be taking pain medication whether I want it or not and actually receiving that medication.

I tried to argue that I'm fine, thank you, but apparently my fucking uppity Air Exec sent a telegram ahead of me to London and informed the doctors here how long I've been in pain and how much weight I've lost.

Fuck you. I was fine.

My begrudging love,

Chick

My favorite idiot Colonel:

If you truly want this relationship to last beyond the war, you have to survive it, you jackass.

I do not regret sending word ahead of you to London. It was a very easy decision after three (THREE) weeks of watching you pretend you weren't in severe pain to the point that you–in case you don't recall this–fainted in your goddamn office.

You're lucky your Air Exec likes you well enough to keep you breathing. I know a few Air Execs who would relish the chance at the sort of accident that literally fell at my feet.

Fuck you and the angry affection you wrote on,

Jack

P.S. Games have been in our favor, though we've had a few close ones. Rosie's team continues to lead in the series.

To the most obnoxious Air Exec in the entire 8th Army:

I didn't faint. What a thing to say. Send me the names of the Air Execs who want to see the ghosts of their COs. That feels like treason.

Pain medication isn't doing anything worth note except making me sleep. Useless.

Keep me updated on Rosie's team. I have money on the outcome, even if I'm not there to see it.

Doctors threatened to send me to the US. I told them there was no need. I won. Been informed I'll have a role in London once I'm recovered from surgery. It's scheduled for a week from now. They want to make sure I'm rested enough for it, apparently. It's a stupid requirement for any Colonel.

Send word on any new pranks from the boys. I need something to keep me entertained. There aren't any leggy blonds of note here.

Go fuck yourself,

Chick

Dear Chick, you exhausting bastard:

You fainted. Deal with it. I don't like it any more than you do, and as the one who caught you before you smashed your head on your coffee table, you owe me.

Honestly.

Of all the cocky pilot assholes to fall for in this war, I had to meet you. Christ. My mother always warned me my prickly nature would attract the same, and I hate how right she was.

Take your fucking pain medication and sleep. A week-and-a-half to sit and do nothing before a gallbladder surgery is excessive. You want a leggy blond of note to note you, then take care of yourself.

A scattering of replacements thought it would be funny to set up scarecrows without telling anyone. Two scarecrows have been punched to the ground. One of the replacements got punched setting one up. I'd like to say it stopped the others from keeping the gag going, but it only encouraged them.

The new CO is sympathetic to my terrible taste in men but can't spare me to visit London for at least three more weeks. I'm tempted to argue him down to two, but it won't be worth the mess when I come back. Not that you're bad company, but we've got more replacements coming in tomorrow, and it's better I know what stupidity they'll get put together sooner rather than later.

Fuck, I miss you. You know these boys and their antics as well as I do. It'd be easier to enjoy the scarecrow stupidity if you were here.

For fuck's sake, Chick, take care of yourself. You're the constant I have in this fucking war, and I want to keep you.

I love you. Now act like you know it.

No new games to report. Rosie's pre-season efforts were as effective as we hoped. A real big week over here.

My sincere and exasperated devotion, Jack

My favorite uppity Air Exec, leggy blond, and scarecrow fighter:

Jack, if I loved you any more, I wouldn't be able to goad you, and if I couldn't goad you, I'd have to look myself in the mirror and think about how close I came to dropping dead at your feet.

I fucked up. I'm sorry. There came a point where the physical pain of the stress of the job clearly took over any common sense, but to request leave or a transfer wasn't an option. Not just because I didn't want to leave the men but because I wanted to stay with you. I know you understand, but I also want to say it so you know that I know how I fucked up: I wouldn't be stuck in London for the foreseeable future if I'd just gone to the doctor when the pain didn't pause. Or if I'd told you about it before I fainted.

I'm sorry. I'm not used to someone else worrying about me. But I think about what I'd do if our spots were switched, and you've honestly been kinder than I would have been. I hope you can make it to London as promised by your new CO. I promise I'll listen to every instruction from the doctor until you get here and even after as long as you smile at me a few times.

I love you. I've got surgery tomorrow, and the doctor says there's no concerns since I've been taking the pain medication and resting up. As there is a war on, I can't help but think about what if something goes wrong. With that on my mind, let me say this:

If the only good thing I take away from this war is your hand in mine, I can find peace with that. I'll miss all the men we've lost and be grateful you'll be by my side to mourn along with me. I hope I can wake up every day after the war and kiss you good morning for years and years and years. I want to sit in the audience when you finish your degree and brag to everyone who can hear me that I'm there to celebrate you. I want to tell everyone of your courage in this war: to give up the surety of flying and fighting in order to take on the complicated and deeply unsure business of asking other men to go into the sky without you.

Jack, I've loved before, but not like I love you. Not anywhere close to how I love you. If my stupidity in ignoring my gallbladder has made you unsure of me, I don't blame you a bit. I won't ever begrudge you to seek out the very best of what you deserve. I just hope that you're willing to let me deserve you a little longer so I can win in the long run.

I'll love you forever if you'll give me the chance and even if you don't,

Chick

Chick's been at his new post in London for two days when his secretary comes into his office and hands him a note, looking confused.

"What is this?" Chick asks.

"You know I didn't ask," his secretary responds.

Chick huffs a laugh and opens the note.

Of course I'll give you a chance, you fucking fainting idiot.

"He didn't give his name," Chick's secretary says. "He says you'll know from the note."

"Jack Kidd," Chick says. "Major Jack Kidd." He rubs his thumb over the word idiot. "Send him in."

His secretary leaves, and Jack walks in. He's as straight-backed and placid as the first time Chick saw him. But Chick remembers a few seconds after that first impression, when Jack had dropped the facade of placidity and informed Chick he had two minutes to explain why he should stay on the ground rather than go in the air like the fucking pilot he was trained to be.

"Major Kidd," Chick greets as he stands. "You're a sight for sore eyes."

"You're one to talk," Jack replies. "Last time I saw you, you were on the floor."

Chick rounds his desk and takes Jack in his arms. Jack cups the back of Chick's head in both hands and presses their foreheads together. "Standing right here in front of you now, Jack. What are you gonna do about it?" He chuckles when Jack touches their mouths together then pulls back. "Come here," he says.

"You come here," Jack challenges, and it's nothing for Chick to meet him more than halfway, grant Jack the affection he so deeply deserves.Especially after the last few weeks. Chick's been shipped to London, and Jack's broken in a new CO, and the air war has finally–finally–shifted in their favor.

"I've missed you," Chick says against Jack's mouth. "You have no idea how much I've missed you."

"I bet I can guess," Jack replies, and he kisses the smile off Chick's face. Because, well, he's right, and Chick won't argue. Not now that they're together again. Not now that he can believe that they'll get through this war together and build something honest and true between the two of them after.

Of all the ways to fall in love, Chick thinks, during this fucking war is the worst and best option he's ever had. As Jack kisses him again, warm and promising and deep, he changes his mind. It's only the best option. Only.

#jackharding #masters of the air #jack kidd #chick harding #idiots in love #how harding stayed upright during his gallbladder issues i do not know #i survived particularly awful endo and my gallbladder going off was such a fuck no #but also actual chick probably didn't know what to do with medical pain

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thebasedsaint7 · 2 years ago

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My experience, strength, & hope

Growing up was fairly normal for me, I don’t have that tragic childhood that ignited my addiction at an early age or anything like that. I honestly think I was born this way, but the drugs didn’t come into play until my late teens. It started with food, and then boys, and so on and so forth.

My family had its share of troubles, but we also had a ton of fun together. I grew up camping & going on little vacations during the summer. I had friends over all the time & had sleep overs at their houses. I was voted class clown for our senior personalities. I can say I have many memories that I cherish, and some that haunt me. It’s a good mix of both. But I think that pretty much applies to everyone.

As a kid, I did have my fair share of stressors. I was bullied consistently from the time I started kindergarten until high school. I was also molested as a child by a neighbor kid who was older than my brother & I. The bullying started to slow down when I lost a bunch of weight by my junior year, I had become addicted to working out. I joined the track & cross country team even though I was slower than a turtle. I just liked the way running made me feel afterward.

The first drug I ever came to enjoy was valium. There was a lot of fighting & things going on at home during high school, and there was one night things got physical. After that I started having a lot of trouble sleeping and having more anxiety than usual. So around 15 years old I was introduced to valium by a family member. At 16 I smoked weed for the first time but wasn’t getting high regularly until I was about 17. By 17 I was stealing the valium from said family member & getting drunk every weekend with a group of guy friends, and I would usually bring a girl friend along with me.

I started blacking out and getting ridiculously drunk every time I drank, so they slowly stopped hanging out with me because I couldn’t handle my alcohol. The summer after senior year my parents separated for about 6 months, and I didn’t hang out with many people that summer. I just worked. Our school lost one of our classmates to a car accident my senior year, and this caused a good friend of mine to distance herself from me for awhile, as she couldn’t help me with my problems and deal with her grief at the same time.

That fall she messaged me and wanted to start hanging out again. We’re going to call her A. We started hanging out all the time, at least 2-3 times a week. She reintroduced me to benzos, and I fell in love with xanax. I started seeking it from doctors, and managed to get a small script for .25’s from my family doctor. After he left his practice, I was referred to a psychiatrist. There I managed to get a prescription for .5mg klonopin, 2x daily. Needless to say they were abused, and I continued to look for more pills on the street. Other drugs started coming into the picture along with more alcohol. LSD, mdma, eventually painkillers, cocaine, and eventually meth later down the road.

At one point, A and I were hanging out almost every day. We developed a codependent friendship. We needed each other to boost each others’ egos, to trade and get drugs from, and to cosign each others’ bullshit. Whatever connection we had at one point was replaced by our love for drugs & partying.

21-22 began the height of my addiction. I was drinking almost every night, and committing unspeakable acts while under the influence. Every one of my friends started to notice and slowly slip away, and they continued to get replaced by even worse friends. I was slipping into a dark place and to be honest, I enjoyed it at the time. It’s like I wanted to see how far I could go, how far I could push it until the inevitable happened. Death. I used to always say I would die by the time I was 27, my future looked bleak.

Around the age of 22 I met somebody that we’ll refer to as C. We hit it off as friends and he quickly became my dealer. After a couple months, I felt like I kind of loved the guy, and he knew it. He started saying how he wanted to get clean, and went cold turkey off of xanax. He never actually totally quit. But, it inspired me to wanna get clean too. I believe he knew this as well, and that it was his goal. He knew how bad I was getting. So I started weaning myself off of klonopin, and stopped buying xanax on the street. I didn’t realize you were supposed to taper off slowly, that it can take over a year and some replacement medication to safely get off of benzos. I didn’t tell my doctor what I was doing because I wanted to still get the prescription so I could sell it. And then the horror began..

After maybe two months of weaning myself off a 5(?) year bender, I went into withdrawal. I didn’t sleep for almost two weeks, and my body started shutting down. I had hallucinations, irritability, restlessness, depressive episodes, decreased appetite, you name it. The one day it was so bad & my mom didn’t know what to do, so she called for an ambulance. Not only was an ambulance sent, but a couple of police came too. One of them I knew from highschool. Something about seeing a familiar face and his calm demeanor talked some sense into me and I agreed to go to the hospital. I can forever thank him for coming that day, although it’s a bit embarassing. But I'm sure that wasn’t the only time he’s seen something like that. I just never saw that scenario coming.

That was my first detox. I relapsed time after time again. I wanted to get clean but I was always doing it for the wrong reasons. I wanted a different job, I wanted this guy to like me, basically any reason except for actually doing it for myself. It wasn’t until 2022 that I realized I was very lucky to have made it past 27, and I was going on 30. I knew if I carried my old habits into my 30s I was going to seriously hate myself for it. So in april of 2022 I made the decision to put the dope down once again.

This only lasted maybe a little over a month. My jeep broke down, and I got insanely bored being at home with nothing to do. So I started smoking weed again. That was the only thing I did for awhile, and then the boredom continued. At the end of 2021 and beginning of 2022 I had been on a cocaine binge, and I was starting to miss it. So I ended up reconnecting with my old friend J. I asked her if she had any one night in august, and she said no but she had something a little stronger. All I could think was, oh boy. Here we go..

I tried meth one time when I was about 26, didn’t really care for it. But something about it the second time around really did something for me. It reminded me of adderall x20. Needless to say I couldn’t sleep that night, and I had stuff to do the next day. So I came back to her house the next morning to get some more. Eventually I found myself needing some kind of speed all the time. If I didn’t have meth, I had adderall. If I didn’t have adderall or meth, I had cocaine. Then I needed something to kind of level me out, so you’ll never guess what I got into next. Yep, you guessed it, xanax. It was a horrible combination and sent my mental health down the gutter. What happened next sent it even further down the drain.

One night my friend B invited me over to drink with her and her new boyfriend and his brother. Everything was cool at first, and then when me & JJ (the brother) were alone outside for a minute, he decides to go in for a kiss. Worst kisser in the world first of all. And second of all I told him I was talking to somebody at the time and didn’t wanna go any further. He did not care. Especially after I made the mistake of selling him a xanax bar.

I knew I was too drunk to leave, and if I stayed he was gonna wanna sleep with me. I felt backed into a corner. So he talked me into staying, and said we didn’t have to do anything. But, naturally, when we went back to his room, he ripped my clothes off and I kept telling him no and that I wanted to stop. At one point when he was on top of me I tried to push him off by his shoulders and he locked himself in place. I felt disgusting. I impatiently waited for it to be light enough outside & for me to be sober enough to drive home, and when I did I realized my clothes had been soaked by his beer. So I wore his clothes that didn’t even fit me home, and immediately hopped in the shower to wash off last nights filth, completely forgetting that rape kits existed. I wasn’t going to say anything about it at first but then I decided you know what, fuck it. But none of my friends cared or believed me. I tried to file a police report but not much came of it seeing as though I couldn’t go get a rape kit done.

So JJ’s now mad at me for opening my mouth about that, and then J decides she’s gonna try to rip me off on this pair of boots that she got for free. They were worth 25$ and she was trying to charge me 40 at first and then 50. I was already upset and not in a good state of mind from the drugs so I got pissed at her. I put a bunch of random chemicals in the boots and threw them in her ex’s driveway where she was moving out of at the time while it was raining.

Then come to find out B was talking shit about me at the party we had at K’s house the weekend before. She was telling everybody that I was doing meth, none of anyones business. I started losing it at this point. I lost my job, I was raped, there was drama, I got sick right before we were leaving for florida for the week of thanksgiving. I had been talking about the trip for weeks, so my friends knew when we were going to be gone.

So the day after thanksgiving, we get a phone call from my sister saying our house had been ransacked. A ton of my parents’ property was missing and my jeep was gone from the garage. This was when I officially hit rock bottom. I knew something needed to change, and my mom suggested I look into rehab.

A few days later we got a call saying my jeep was found behind walmart, but the catalytic converter was missing. So considering we couldn’t afford to get it fixed and make the payments while I was in rehab, we had to let it get repoed. The cherry on top of it all.

My parents didn’t have cameras or a security system at the time (you can bet they do now), so it was basically our word against theirs. However, there was an empty bottle of budweiser left in my jeep on the driver side door that wasn’t mine. They sent it to the lab for dna, and it came back with J’s dna on it. I could have told you she was involved. They’re still working on gathering enough evidence to indict her on the charge though. Since then she’s caught another burglary and breaking and entering charge, on top of multiple felonies and misdemeanors, and I honestly hope the judge throws the book at her. A bunch of petty drama does not justify breaking into my childhood home and robbing my parents and I blind. But in hindsight, this was the beginning of my journey for me. The start of an awakening.

I prayed for years for God to take my addiction from me, but I never really put in the effort. I was ready to make the change this time. So I found a rehab about an hour away from home, and stayed for 2 ½ months. After I was discharged I lived with my sponsor for a few days, and then got a call that there was a room available at a sober living facility nearby, still about an hour away from home. I was ecstatic. I have been getting all the help I need, from counseling and group therapy to figuring out a job and budget, and getting help with getting some things on my record expunged/reduced. I couldn’t be more thankful for the staff at the rehab I stayed at and where I am now, and for all the friends I've made along the way.

I’ve changed and grown so much in such a short period of time, it’s amazing. All I had to do was take those steps, and then the blessings just kept falling in my lap. I am so grateful for everyday that I wake up and for each new opportunity that arises, so grateful my parents have been so supportive along with most of my extended family. There are those that have lost faith in me and honestly it does hurt, but I don’t respond to the hurt the way I used to. I didn’t realize how much the drugs had stunted my emotional maturity. Looking at the difference of who I was 4 months ago to now is enough to keep me going, because it’s only going to keep getting better.

God is replacing all the things that the enemy stole from me. It brings me to tears.

There was one morning, about a year or so ago when I was praying to get better & not knowing where I stood with God because of my addiction, when I was waking up, still half asleep, and I heard a soft voice coming from within me. I heard something in my conscience say, “you are mine, your name is Testimony. You are MINE, your name is Testimony. YOU ARE MINE, your name is TESTIMONY.” I woke up and stared blankly out at the sun beaming in through my window. Perplexed. Exactly 7 days later, my uncle who baptized me when I was 9 sent me a bracelet with a Bible verse on it from the book of Isaiah, saying “i have called you by name, you are mine.” and that’s when I knew that what I heard that morning wasn’t just me, I wasn’t crazy.

It’s all coming to fruition, His promises and words spoken to me. It’s unbelievable. And all I had to do was start doing the next right thing. I had the key to my cure this entire time, I just had to unlock the door.

#recovery #addiction recovery #my recovery story #tumblr diary #thoughts #mine #personal #christianity #god #that’s my story #and I’m sticking to it

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hefty-to-healthy · 2 years ago

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✨I’m baaaack. ✨Wishing I could have been at my goal weight, I definitely would have made it to that in the last two years. But life happens. We just have to get back up again and keep going again until we succeed.

I didn’t realize that I had gained all my weight back, I figured I had gained some of it back, but I didn’t think it was all of it. I stopped focusing on tracking my calories when I fell into a depressive rut. And then we moved to a different city and I figured since I was being more active during the move and doing so much movement and heavy lifting that I would have maybe lost some or at least stayed the same, but the stress eating I was doing overpowered any of the movements. Moving is so hard and stressful 😵‍💫 and I guess I continued to gain after settling in from the move from stress eating some more even though I was continuing to stay active. But then I got into another depressive rut again and laid in bed any free time I had.

We finally had friends visit us at our new place and they brought their VR set for us to play. My friend took pictures of me while I was in the VR gear and I was shocked at how big I looked in the pics and decided to weigh myself the next day only to disappointingly see that all my weight I had worked so hard to lose over months had come back.

I did it before though and I could do it again.

I got back on the “lose it” app to start tracking my calories again and I started watching light exercise videos and various dance videos to help get me active again. The weight started melting right off and I was having even more fun this time.

My in laws brought the family on a cruise in November as a early Christmas+birthday gifts for everyone. I continued to track my calories there as best as I could and still portion control. I did a really great job at it too, and I went to the gym they had on board every morning, I did as many physical activities as I could and I took the stairs instead of the elevators 90% of the time. I thought I for sure would have actually lost weight instead of gained. But when we had gotten back the scale showed that I had somehow gained 10 whole pounds in just a week??? I was absolutely devastated and fell into a bit of a depression for a week after the trip. And fell off track with counting my calories for a week or doing any exercise either, but even though I didn’t track what I ate or do any exercising my weight went down right back to where it was another week later. Turns out you can gain 10 pounds from some serious bloating that happens while on a cruise from all the salt both in the food and all around in the air.

So after all of that fiasco, I’ve slowly fell off track of exercising but I’ve been tracking my calories still. But I’ve been stuck at the same weight for the past few weeks now. For me, I thrive better with weight loss motivation when I see other people succeeding. When I see other people doing fantastic things to help them lose weight or get stronger, it then motivates me mentally to do the same for myself, so I thought I’d come back to tumblr to find that motivation. I originally had stopped logging on to tumblr because I got off track but when I wanted to get back on I made an email specifically for this tumblr and I couldn’t remember what the email was so I couldn’t log in. A few days ago I found the email written in one of my notebooks and was able to get back on finally 😊

So here I am again, even though I started my journey again months ago without tumblr, I’m hoping this will be better motivation to keep me on track even better! I can’t wait to see others successes too!

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eclipsed-sun-and-moon · 19 hours ago

Note

You asked for a fanfic. This is all I got. I hope you like it. You can critique if you want.

Title: The Weight of Fire

**Summary:** Leo Valdez grapples with the aftermath of a battle, haunted by doubts and fears as he questions his worth and place among the demigods.

--- The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a crimson hue over Camp Half-Blood. Leo Valdez sat on the edge of the lava lake, his feet dangling above the molten glow. The warmth felt comforting, but inside, he was ice cold. The recent battle against the Giants had been brutal, and though they had emerged victorious, the victory felt hollow. He remembered the faces of his friends, the laughter shared around campfires, the thrill of building inventions that amazed even his father. But now, all he could see were the moments where he had faltered, the split-second decisions that could have turned the tide in a different direction. “Leo?” a familiar voice broke through his thoughts. Piper McLean approached cautiously, her eyes filled with concern. “You okay?” “Yeah, just...thinking.” He forced a smile, but it felt like a mask slipping over a much darker truth. “Thinking about what happened?” she asked, sitting beside him. The glow from the lava wall flickered against her features, making her look almost ethereal. He looked away, staring into the molten depths. “I should have done more. I could have saved...” “Leo, you did everything you could,” Piper interrupted gently. “We all did. We lost some, but we saved many. That’s what matters.” “Is it?” His voice cracked, the weight of his doubt spilling out. “I could have built something better, faster... What if I’d been quicker? What if I’d thought of something that could have saved them?” Piper placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch grounding him. “You’re not a machine. You can’t control everything. You’re not responsible for what happened.” “I just feel—” Leo hesitated, swallowing hard. “I feel like I’m not good enough. Like I’ll never be enough. I'm always left out in the group.” Piper’s expression softened. “We all feel that way sometimes. It’s part of being human—er demigod, in our case. But you’re Leo Valdez. You’re one of the most resourceful people I know. You build machines that defy the laws of physics. You brought us back from the brink. You’re not just a hero; you’re our hero.” But her words felt like empty echoes against the churning fears in his heart. “But what if I fail again? What if the next battle—” “Stop.” Piper’s voice was firm, cutting through his spiraling thoughts. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. We need you. I need you.” His gaze fell to the ground, feeling the weight of her words. “What if I let you down?” “You won’t,” she replied, her determination unwavering. “And even if you do, we’ll still be here. That’s what friends are for.” A tear slipped down Leo’s cheek, catching him off guard. “I’m scared, Pipes. I’m scared of losing you all. Jason is already gone. I don't want you to be next. You guys were my first friends.” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “We’re not going anywhere. You’re never alone in this. We fight together, remember?” The warmth of her presence started to melt the panicky feeling of ice that had settled in his chest. “I just—sometimes it feels like I’m carrying too much. Like I’m the one holding everyone back while everyone else steals my thunder.” Piper pulled back, looking him in the eyes. “Then let us help you carry it. You don’t have to be the only one. We’re a team. We can share the weight.” The darkness in Leo’s heart began to lighten. “Thanks, Pipes. I just...I needed to hear that.” “Anytime,” she smiled. “Now, let’s get back to camp. I think we could all use a distraction—maybe some food or a campfire?” He nodded, finally allowing a genuine smile to break through. “You know me too well. Let’s go.” As they walked back, side by side, Leo felt a flicker of hope ignited within him. He wasn’t alone. The internal and external battle scars may remain, but together, they could face whatever came next. And maybe, just maybe, he would learn to carry his burdens without letting them drown him.

Omg literally amazing, you're my fav person ever

The Leo and Piper friendship is so perfect. Plus exploring Leo's insecurities. Ah youre so talented!!!!

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kanisema-blog · 6 months ago

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Operation: True Love (?)

Chapter 10

I found myself once again in Kiko's mansion, a place that held so many memories of us. This time, we were in the library, one of my favorite rooms. The towering bookshelves filled with literature from every genre provided a comforting silence, only broken by the occasional crackling of the fireplace. I sat in one of the plush armchairs, a novel open on my lap, though my mind kept wandering to the man sitting across from me.

Kiko was engrossed in his book, but I could feel his presence keenly, a magnetic force drawing my thoughts back to him. We had fallen into a comfortable silence, one that spoke volumes about our shared history.

Kiko closed his book and looked at me, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. "Miranda, do you remember when we first met?"

I glanced up, meeting his gaze. "At Kate's birthday party, right? Five years ago."

He nodded, his eyes sparkling with the memory. "Yeah. I remember seeing you across the room and thinking you were the most beautiful woman there. I couldn't take my eyes off you."

I smiled softly, the memory vivid in my mind. "I remember feeling nervous when you walked over to me. You had this confidence about you, like you owned the room."

Kiko chuckled. "I was nervous too, believe it or not. But I had to talk to you. Something about you just drew me in."

"Well, you certainly made an impression," I said, laughing lightly. "I remember thinking you were charming, almost too charming."

He leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. "That night changed everything for me. I never expected to meet someone like you at a party."

We fell into silence again, both lost in our thoughts. The weight of our shared past hung in the air, a mix of joy and sorrow. I turned my gaze back to my book, though the words blurred as memories flooded back.

"Kiko," I said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Do you ever wonder what went wrong?"

He sighed, closing his book and setting it aside. "I do, Miranda. All the time. I think we both made mistakes, got caught up in our own worlds and lost sight of each other."

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. "We were both so busy, always working, always distracted. I guess we just drifted apart."

Kiko leaned forward, his eyes searching mine. "But it wasn't just that, was it? There were deeper issues, things we never really talked about."

I took a deep breath, the sadness in his eyes reflecting my own. "No, it wasn't just that. We never really communicated, not about the important things. We kept things bottled up until it was too late."

He reached across the small table that separated us, taking my hand in his. "I don't want to make the same mistakes again, Miranda. Whatever happens, I want us to be honest with each other."

I squeezed his hand, feeling a flicker of hope. "Me too, Kiko. Honesty is something we owe each other, and ourselves."

We sat there, holding hands, the fire casting a warm glow around us. The library felt like a sanctuary, a place where we could confront our past and look towards the future.

"Do you remember that night we stayed up until dawn talking?" Kiko asked, his voice soft. "It was just after we started dating. We talked about everything—our dreams, our fears, our childhoods."

I smiled at the memory. "I do. I remember feeling so connected to you, like I had found someone who truly understood me."

Kiko's grip on my hand tightened slightly. "I miss that feeling, Miranda. I miss being able to talk to you like that."

"Me too," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us."

We fell into silence again, the weight of our words settling between us. It was a bittersweet moment, filled with longing and regret. But it was also a step towards healing, towards understanding the mistakes we had made and how we could move forward.

The evening stretched on, and we continued to talk, sharing memories and opening up about our feelings. It was the most honest conversation we had had in a long time, and it felt like a turning point.

"Kiko," I said after a long pause. "I don't know what the future holds for us, but I'm willing to try. To be honest, to communicate better, to not repeat the same mistakes."

He looked at me, his eyes filled with hope and determination. "I want that too, Miranda. More than anything."

We stayed in the library until the early hours of the morning, talking and reconnecting. It was a small step, but it felt like the beginning of something new.

As I finally left the mansion and headed back to my apartment, I felt a sense of calm and clarity. We had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful about our future. Whatever happened, we were taking steps in the right direction, together. And that was enough for now.

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all-the-things-2020 · 1 year ago

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All Our Future Prospects - Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Cee has a proposal of her own.

Rating: PG

Notes: We’ve reached the end of this sentimental story of three lost souls finding each other. I hope you enjoyed it!

She found it hard to believe she was back on Galadon. The spicy scent of gumdrop trees filled her nostrils as they stepped off the shuttle onto the landing pad. “Oh, I missed that smell,” she said, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Nothing smells as good as home,” Ezra agreed.

“Home,” she repeated. She laughed, feeling giddy. “Home.” She twirled around despite the duffle slung over her shoulder, almost knocking Ezra off balance.

“Calm down, little owl,” he said. “We’ll have enough silliness once we join Cee. I’m sure the girl is ready to burst out of her skin.”

His words were prophetic. As soon as they walked through the inner doors to the public area of the port, Cee pounced on them. She collided with Claire so hard they almost fell down.

“Easy there,” Ezra laughed. “Don’t kill her when we just got her back.”

Cee wrapped her arms around Claire and squeezed as hard as she could. “I missed you so much!,” she mumbled into Claire’s hair.

“I missed you, too,” Claire managed to say. She wanted to say more but her throat was closing up and she burst into tears. It was overwhelming. Then Cee was crying as well and they stumbled to a nearby bench to avoid collapsing under the weight of their own sobs.

Ezra stood over them, patiently waiting for the tempest of emotions to clear, and gently steering curious onlookers away. “You’d think they’d never seen a joyful reunion in a spaceport before,” he said drily once the tears had subsided. “Do people not watch holo dramas anymore?”

Cee laughed. “Holo dramas are so over, don’t you know that? Geez, you are old.”

“Stop teasing your uncle,” Claire said.

Cee shot Ezra a look. “You didn’t tell her?”

“I thought it would be better to wait until you were present,” he said.

“Tell me what?,” Claire asked. “What’s going on?” She didn’t like them having a secret from her, even though she’d only been back for five minutes and it was highly unlikely to be something bad.

“In order to sign my apprenticeship contract, Ezra had to be my legal guardian,” Cee said smugly. “So he adopted me. He’s my dad now, for real.”

“Oh, Cee, I’m so happy for you!,” Claire said. “And you, too, Ezra.” She felt another round of tears threatening to appear. “You belong together and now it’s official.”

“Speaking of official …,” Cee said. “Um, Claire, the lawyer who drew up the adoption papers has another set ready. If you want to.”

“You want me …?” She couldn’t say any more. It was impossible.

“I want you to be my mom,” Cee said. “I mean, I’ll be eighteen in less than two years, so it doesn’t really mean much legally but it would mean a lot to me.”

Claire nodded, still unable to talk. She wrapped Cee in her arms and hugged her as tightly as she could. “Yes,” she managed to say after a long moment holding back tears. “I would love to be your mom.” Then she let go and sobbed onto the girl’s shoulder again.

Once this storm of emotion had passed, Claire sat up, wiping her face with her sleeves. “I sincerely hope you don’t have any more surprises for me, Cee,” she hiccuped.

“Well …,” Cee said with a guilty look on her face.

“What did you do, birdie?” Ezra asked, with a hint of a grin.

“You asked me to start looking into apartments,” she said quickly. “And I found one that’s perfect for the three of us and I was afraid it might get snatched up so … I put down a non-refundable deposit and we have to sign the lease by the end of the day or we lose it.” She bit her lower lip, bracing for a scolding.

Ezra just shook his head. “I trust your judgement, birdie, you know that,” he said. “And we are all partners in this family venture. Although perhaps you should have led with ‘we only have a few hours to prevent financial ruin’ instead of indulging in a crying fest.”

Cee rolled her eyes. “I got to it as quickly as I could,” she said. “Claire was the one who started the crying.”

“Hey!” Claire said, swatting harmlessly at Cee’s arm.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Ezra said, waggling a finger at her.

“Okay, Dad,” Cee retorted.

Claire sighed in contentment. It was good to be home.

********************************************

Claire sat on the couch. The apartment faced the setting sun and the sheer window curtains bathed the room in golden light. It had been a whirlwind of a day, signing lease papers, rushing around to buy bed linens and kitchenware and food to stock the fridge and cupboards, but now they were all at home. Ezra was making up the beds, Cee was in the kitchen figuring out how the stove worked, and she had just finished composing a quick message to her parents informing them of her new address … and the fact that they had a granddaughter now. It would not be official until they had completed the adoption papers, but there was no need to wait to tell her parents about Cee.

“I hope everyone likes grilled cheese,” Cee called out from the kitchen. “It’s the only thing I know how to cook.”

“Then why did you volunteer to prepare dinner?” Ezra mock-scolded from the bedroom.

“Because I wanted to do something special for my parents, geez,” she retorted. “You can be the chef in the family if you want.”

“Or perhaps we shall go shopping for a nice cookbook, so we can all educate ourselves in the rudiments of the culinary arts,” Ezra replied as he came into the living room. “Then we can take turns like adults.”

“I’m not an adult yet,” Cee yelled. “Still a kid, remember?”

Claire shook her head. “You two,” she said, as Ezra sat beside her.

“We three,” he replied. “I’ve heard you give as good as you get, my dear.”

“But not like you and Cee,” she said. “You have a weird bond that goes beyond anything I’ll ever have with her.”

“Your bond is different,” he assured her. “But just as strong.” He kissed her cheek. “Remember, it was her idea for me to go after the noridium in hopes of bringing you back home to us. She refused to let you go.”

“What would you have done if I’d said no?,” she asked quietly. “How would you have told her?”

He sighed. “I would have told her the truth, and held her when she cried, and then we would have sat down and calmly discussed what to do with the money,” he said. “I would have been strong for her.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “But who would have been strong for you?”

He had no answer.

***************************************

Ezra was sound asleep, but Claire was wide awake. The enormity of her new life had settled on her and she needed some time to come to terms with it. Three people, dependent only on each other, no safety nets of any kind … it was frightening, yet she didn’t feel much anxiety. Whatever happened, she would be with Ezra and Cee and together they would survive.

A tiny voice nagged at her, though. What if something happens to Ezra? Or Cee? Or you? How will you manage then? And this voice is what robbed her of sleep, a kernel of doubt that needed to be dealt with.

She heard a noise in the living room. It had to be Cee, but it was far too late for the girl to be up considering she had to return to her apprenticeship in the morning. Claire waited a long moment before she slid out from under the covers. Ezra gave a little sigh and mumbled something in his sleep.

Cee was sitting on the couch in the dark. “It’s late,” Claire said softly. “You should be in bed.”

“I know,” Cee said. “Couldn’t sleep.” She folded her legs up, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Me either,” Claire admitted. She sat beside the girl, one leg drawn up underneath her.

“I was asleep,” Cee said after a long silence. “But I had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s stupid,” Cee said, shaking her head. “But I couldn’t get back to sleep so I thought I’d sit up for a bit.”

Claire nodded. “I’ll sit with you. If I’m going to be awake, I might as well be useful.”

“I thought you’d be tired,” Cee said, leaning her head on Claire’s shoulder.

“I am,” Claire admitted. “But my brain won’t shut off.” She slid her arm around Cee. “Maybe if we talk about your dream we can tire it out. Figure out the symbolism and whatnot.”

“There’s no symbolism,” Cee said grimly. “It was very realistic. I know exactly what it means.”

“So tell me,” Claire prompted.

“I was alone,” Cee whispered. “You were gone and Ezra was gone and nobody would tell me how you died, and I was living back at Johanna’s but I couldn’t do anything right and I was all alone …” Her words dissolved into a soundless sob. “I don’t want to lose you like I lost my mother and father.”

“Oh, Cee, sweetheart, I know I can’t promise you that Ezra and I will be here forever, that’s not how the universe works, but I can promise you that you will always be loved. Your mother loved you, and your father loved you, and we love you. So does Johanna and your friends and people you haven’t even met yet. I don’t think anyone could not love you, Cee.”

“Is it weird that I’m living here?”

Claire was confused by the abrupt change in topic. “What? I don’t understand. Why would it be weird?”

“I mean, I’m almost grown up, I’m doing an apprenticeship, I was living at Johanna’s. Now you and Ezra are together and maybe you’d like to be alone together, and here I am barging into the middle of everything.”

“When Ezra told me about the noridium, when he asked me to come back to Galadon, he didn’t ask me to spend my life with him,” Claire said carefully. “He said that he and you wanted to know if I’d throw my lot in with yours. Both of you. This isn’t just a romantic relationship, Cee. This is a family. I knew you were part of the deal from the very beginning and I could not imagine a life with Ezra that didn’t include you. You are not barging into anything, sweetheart. You’re home. We all are.”

They sat in comfortable silence until Cee yawned. “Time for bed, kiddo,” Claire said. “You have to work in the morning.”

“I know,” Cee said with a groan. “But only if you go to bed, too. You’re too old to pull all nighters.”

“I am not old,” Claire protested. “I’m younger than Ezra, at least by a little bit.”

Cee snorted. “That’s not saying much.”

“I hope your own kids are as obnoxious to you as you are to us,” Claire said.

“My kids will be respectful and polite,” Cee said primly.

Now it was Claire’s turn to snort. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“You will see it … Grandma,” Cee said. “But not for a long, long time. I promise.” She kissed Claire on the cheek. “Good night, Mom.”

Claire stayed on the couch for a while after Cee went back to bed. She could dimly see the future ahead now. Not the details, but the broad outline. A home with Cee and Ezra. Maybe there would be another child, maybe not. Cee would find her own partner one day if she was lucky, perhaps have a child or two of her own. Or not. It didn’t matter. Celebrations and trying times, gains and losses, joys and sorrows, but always, always love. That was what mattered.

As Claire slipped back into bed, Ezra stirred. “Everything okay?,” he asked.

“Everything’s fine,” she replied, snuggling up against him. “Everything is perfectly fine.” And it was true.

#ezra and cee #ezra fic #ezra #ezra prospect #prospect fanfiction #ezra x ofc #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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