#whys my spelling so shit no matter how hard I try | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

Text

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

1K notes · View notes

lila-lou · 11 months ago

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the deep #the boys fanart #the boys amazon #the boys tv #spn #ackles

472 notes · View notes

xmultifandomsx · 6 months ago

Text

jason can't use autocorrect anymore

Picture this: Jason having disabled autocorrect on all his electronics. Normally, it doesn't matter. Jason's vocabulary is spectacular and so is his spelling, it's one of those things he's always prided himself on. No one could ever tell he was from Crime Alley just looking at his essays. However, he's not perfect and sometimes it's hard to type in blood-soaked leather gloves so there's the occasional typo. It drives Bruce nuts, like really nuts. And every time he sends in a report with an accidental typo Bruce sends it back with the word highlighted in bright fucking yellow. It pisses him off to no end. So he complains about it to Dickie once after Bruce had just returned his 12 page report having highlighted 'Sucinylcholine' in yellow. Dick takes one look at it and asks, like an asshole, "Why don't you just turn on spellchecking?" Why don't you just meh meh meh, god he's such a wonder boy. And then that weasly, little snake snorts as he types away on the bat computer.

"Yeah," Drake giggles. "Why don't you?"

Jason can't help but grind his teeth, he knows exactly why. Drake is the reason he had to disable it in the first place, even if he can't prove it. It wasn't a coincidence that right after he and Tim had one of their blowout arguments, someone had changed the autocorrect on his phone so whenever he typed 'Bruce' or 'B' it changed to 'Dad' and if he typed 'Batman' it changed to 'Batdad' without his approval. And if that wasn't bad enough, they somehow managed to do the same thing on his laptop. And his burner phone. And his other burner phone. And you get the point. No matter how many times he tried to change his settings or buy new electronics the autocorrect issue remained. See, Jason isn't the most technologically advanced of his siblings but he could get by. Except when it came to smartphones, he was pretty useless when it came to the settings app on his phone. It wasn't his fault, when he died he still had a flip phone! So, try as he might he couldn't really fix it on his own and he was only slightly mortified to ask anyone else for help so he'd just turned off autocorrect and spellcheck in general.

"It doesn't matter," Jason muttered. "It's not my fault B is such a tightwad."

"I think you meant dad," the little shit giggles, taking off before Jason can reach the computer and strangle the asshole.

He fucking knew it!

(Cue Dick just staring after them confused but smiling bc his brothers are bonding)

#tim drake #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #robin #bruce wayne #jason todd is a little shit #tim drake is a menace #they 'hate' each other #time drake being a younger sibling but worse #yes he's also done this to damian

228 notes · View notes

maxknightley · 1 month ago

Note

i just don't understand how usa trans folks in my circles aren't afraid for their lives re: the election. i get it. biden has been shit, he's been the main contributor to a genocide. harris will likely be no different. i'm in no way thrilled with them or our establishment as a whole. but trump clearly spells a much, much worse reality for trans people in this country. not only does his supporters' platform outline the criminalization of transness, but they'll have full immunity to do it due to the supreme court decision. this isn't a worst case scenario to get people to vote blue, this is the reality of what trump actively wants to do. am i missing something? because i'd love to believe i'm the crazy one in this case

most of what you're describing has been happening on a state-by-state level. the biden administration has done next to nothing to meaningfully push back against it. even if you're going hard in the paint on voting, you would be better off focusing your efforts on state and municipal elections, where something good could at least conceivably happen

"supreme court justice" is a lifetime position. as such, the supreme court is still going to have a republican majority regardless of who gets elected come november. you could make the argument "oh but what if one of the justices dies within the next four years," except that the democratic establishment has repeatedly demonstrated that they have zero interest in actually securing a progressive majority in the judiciary, so I'm not especially convinced it would make a difference. mind you, the whole fucking institution is flagrantly antidemocratic regardless.

kamala harris is actively campaigning on Bipartisanship and Cooperation with the christofascists she's running against. oh sorry I mean the Moderate Anti-Trump Republicans, like dick cheney, who definitely wasn't part of multiple infamously reactionary presidential administrations within living memory. why should I believe for an instant that she'll fight for me?

I might be biased due to living in a blue state, but the fact of the matter is: after four years of Trump, my life was not materially worse. after four years of Biden, my life was not materially better. under such circumstances, how am I supposed to feel anything but nihilism and apathy about the presidential election?

This is definitely a factor of living in a blue state, but it would be a statistical miracle if my vote for president mattered even the slightest bit beyond "maybe the green party will get some government funding and that will have some kind of positive ripple effect"

as someone who remembers the Bush administration I speak from experience when I say the republicans are constantly proposing hideous, inane social policies that end up dying in committee. that's not to say we should let down our guard, only that "if trump is re-elected he will immediately institute a dictatorship and all trans people will be hanged on the spot" is not actually a sure thing by any means.

I am a petty, angry person, and when people try to browbeat me into doing something - especially something that strikes me as pointless - it makes me less likely to do it.

tl;dr it's going to be bad either way; meanwhile, voting for a cheerleader of genocide would disgust me enough on a personal level that I'm willing to get uncharacteristically Kantian about the whole affair.

call me when they return to the obama playbook of "at least pretending they will try to make things better"

#ask #anon

80 notes · View notes

tr4gictea · 2 years ago

Note

OMG HIIII

its so hard finding writers that do xchild!reader or teen!reader

.·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.

Can i request a sagau where the creator is a teenager?

How do you think the difference genshin characters would treatg them ?

Love yaaaa!

❥Masterlist

Summary: You land in Teyvat after trying to play your favorite game. After trying to keep your age a secret the dendritic archon somit he’s on you.

Tags: Mostly fluff, teen!reader, platonic

A/n: Thank you for the suggestion 0rah-s! :D This is kinda short but there will most likely be a part 2. There are definitely spelling mistakes in here, please let me know how i can improve pls. Love u all <3

Part 2

After a long day of school, (y/n) relaxed in their chair and powered up their PC to play their favorite game: Genshin Impact. But as they clicked on the icon of the cute mascot the icon’s color inverted. You only brushed off the glitch as a weird bug. When the window popped up it looked different then usual with the sky behind the floating pillars a scarlet red.

“Wtf… is my game glitching?” (y/n) thought to themself as they tried click the x in the corner of their window to close the screen. Key word ‘tried’. The window refused to close while the game started to build the door into teyvat. (Y/n) watched the screen as a blinding white light surrounded their vision until there was nothing.

………..

When you landed in Teyvat you none questioned you appearing as a teenager because it’s quite rude to ask someone their age. They will treat you as if you are an adult. But the truth will eventually come out but it wasn’t how you expected.

“Your grace, are you sure you can sign contracts?” Nahida asked as you while you were meeting with the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham and the Dendro Archon, Lesser lord Kussinal.

Shit. Nahida knew that you were 14. She looked in Irmensal the moment you arrived. “Yes I should be.” You said looking at her with eyes that said PLEASE DON’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY AGE PLEASE PLEASE.

But apparently she didn’t get the message “Well I only ask this because of your age.”

Alhaithem’s eyes shifted towards you and raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t mind me asking your Grace but how old are you exatctly?”

“...”

“No comment.”

“There Grace is 14!”

“Nahida!”

Alhaitham stair went blank and was most likely was forming a million questions in his head when he asked “Who else knows?”

“Just Nahida and now you too.” You gestured to the small archon than Alhaithem.

“Hm, I will inform the other leaders of this and Lesser Lord Kussinal will you please inform the other Archons of this matter.”

“Wait- What?!”

……………..

Day passed and you left Sumeru to visit people in Monstat. You were greeted with a parade of people waving and throwing gifts at you. After a little while the crowd dispersed and you saw a familiar green bard sitting on a statue of Barbatos.

“Ah! Your Grace!” Venti said as he got up from his spot sitting on the statue’s hands. He used his anemo abilities to float himself without hurting himself. “Or should I say my young Grace?” He said smirking

“What?”

“I take that back, it sounded cooler in my head.” Venti said as he slung his arm over your shoulder as you chuckled. “But, back on topic! YOUR 14?” Shouting the least part a little too loud catching the attention of a few bystanders.

“VENTI SHUT THE FUCK UP!” You whisper yelled at him as he chuckled. “And yes I am 14.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the bard asked with sincerity in his tone.

“I don’t know, I just thought it would be a little awkward and I didn’t know what would be the right time to do so.”

“Understandable, we all thought you were older than at least 30 from the way you act, but what about your family?”

“What do you mean? They’re probably back at my home living their life.”

“Not on your planet but here on teyvat, from what I can tell you have no single person to have as a parental fig-” You shove a hand in Venti’s face before he finish, knowing what he was going to say.

“No, absolutely not, I don’t need a ‘parental figure’ in my life telling me what to do.” You said putting air quotes up for parental figure. “And like you said I act older than I am.”

“That doesn't mean your still not a kid.”

“Doesn’t matter, point is that I don't need someone looking after me.”

……………..

Once (Y/n)’s finished their business in Mondstat she left for Liyue since the Lanturen Rite festival was about to take place. Little did they know that they would be met with the Liyue Qucixe.

Ganyu, Keqing, and Nigguang were standing right on the entrance of the harbor, when you came into view Ganyu was the first to run toward you. She grabbed your cheeks in her hands with a worried expression on her face.

“YOUR GRACE YOU’RE 14?!” She said slightly shaking you “WITH THE AMOUNT OF WORK YOU’VE BEEN DOING IT ISN’T GOOD FOR A CHILD!”

“Ganyu calm down, and let them go.”The bold voice of Ningguan said from behind Ganyu. She then turned to face you “Your Grace, it’s lovely to see you again.” She said with a smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again too.”

“If you would like to come with me I have reserved a spot at the Liuli Pavillion if you would like to join me for lunch.”

“Of Course, I would love to join you.”

Time skip d:

After a bit of talking and eating Ningguan cleared her throat and asked if she could have a serious talk with you about something.

“I have a feeling this is about my age.” You said while cleaning sauce off your mouth with a napkin.

“Yes your Grace,” Ningguan said “I’m afraid that’s the problem.

Part 2?

#Genshin Sagau #Genshin x teen reader #Genshin impact x reader #Genshin #genshin #Sagau #sagau headcanons #platonic genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader

781 notes · View notes

oh-no-its-bird · 28 days ago

Note

For the Uchiha Houhua AU, how does he survive the massacre? I'm guessing either he uses his poison skills to fake his death or he does the 'actually I was a prodigy all along' thing in front of Itachi. Itachi spends the next several years being driven a little insane by finding this out about his old friend.

Also does Houhua incarnate as a baby? Because if so he was probably old enough to babysat by Obito. I feel like you could do something interesting with that.

On that note his relationship with kakashi. Like that's his little brother figures sensei, and he was a shizun in his last life, he knows what it is to be a good teacher and kakashi in the early series is not that. If he also knew Obito and knows that that's his eye in kakashi's head? Oof.

How much of the Uchiha eye thing does he get? Does he have his sharingan? Or the mangekyou?

Also, wasn't it cannon that part of the reason why danzo let Itachi let Sasuke live was because he was a moldable child? How does he feel about having a semi adult Uchiha still alive? I feel like Houhua is walking a constant tightrope of protecting himself and Sasuke and not being seen as a threat by the creepy old man.

THIS IS A WONDERFUL QUESTION!! I. Am not too sure, actually

I feel like it'd probably be him trying to fight back maybe? Faking his death absolutely sounds like the shit hed do tho, so hmm might put that in his back pocket too

Either way, Houhua vs Itachi 1v1 where they're surprisingly well matched sounds really fun I cant lie.

Mmmm, maybe he can 1v1 Itachi and hold up surprisingly well? Itachi is doing the what is this, how are you doing this, have you been hiding yourself from me this whole time?! routine as Houhua goes fuck shit oh my god oh my god I cant believe that worked oh fuck--

Then Obito fucking teleports behind Houhua and stabs him. Oopsies!

Houhua somehow survives due to genuine luck, and gets a hint about there having been more than 1 person at the massacre maybe?

Idk if thatd work tho. Mmmm so many thoughts.

I do think that no matter what, Houhua would have to be "defeated" in some way. Play dead for a bit. If he comes out of the fight having visibly won, it'll spell problems and set dominos in motion I dont want dominoing just yet

So no matter what, he's ending the fight face down on the floor

ALSO THATS. SUCH A GOOD POINT ACTUALLY SHIT, DID OBITO HELP BABYSIT HIM?? Houhua did reincarnate as a baby, tho I think there was some soft mental block on him becoming truly conscious till he was at least around 5 years old. So by the time he was conscious at least, Obito was already gone. Rip!

I think that Kakashi wouldnt be immune to looking at Houhua and seeing the reflection of another cry baby ninja, though Houhua wouldn't have any real memory of Obito (tho he might have heard ab him before, with some clan members comparing them quietly when they think he's not listening)

Anyways I need a scene where Houhua and Obito meet once Houhua is older and Houhua straight up says "You know, I never did get why people thought we were anything alike" as a clear insult

Rare Houhua w !!

I think Houhua has an unusually difficult time manifesting anything w his eyes just bc of the emotional walls he has up between him and everyone around him. He does not allow himself to feel deeply for anyone enough for his eyes to be affected, no matter how fond he may grow of them. There is always a wall between him and the world.

I do also however think that no matter how hard he tries to distance himself from the people around him, even having known for years now that they'd all die this way, seeing the people who he was raised around all die to the hands of a boy he might have grown fond of--

Yeah.

Not even he's immune to that.

So when the massacre happens, he'll at least get his sharingan, tho idk how man tomoe (and I cant really remember what is needed to gain each tomoe, so, oops)

I do think he'd have an incredibly difficult time manifesting his mangekyou, for all the reasons above, so if he ever does it'd be way down the line.

I also think it'd be super fucking interesting (especially from an outsiders perspective) if he manifested it somehow due to MBJ's involvement, since his reincarnation is wandering around here somewhere as Jun, and does not remember Houhua

Houhua has no explanation for why he cares about this man deeply enough to manifest the mangekyou. Sorry.

Also, Im ngl, as I write this I can totally see an argument for something along the lines of "well Houhua went through a fuck ton of trauma as SQH, so what if when he regains his memories around 5, he automatically unlocks his sharingan just through that remembered trauma? Then just keeps it secret for years until the massacre"

I think that could be interesting tbh, it would also tell a story all on its own ab his grief for his past life and all the people there. Smthn to think ab, idk

Houhua is a bit too old and way too clever for Danzo's liking. hHis one only saving grace is that, on the surface at least, he's a fuckin worm of a boy and has literally no achievements other than having survived Itachi

He isn't worth getting rid of yet, but Danzo has an eye on him, just waiting for a reason to potentially knock him off.

Good think Houhua decided not to go the child prodigy route!! Putting his own flaws and weaknesses on blast to all of Konoha probably saved his fucking ass with Danzo. At least for now, anyways.

#naruto #svsss #birds fic talk #birds asks #shang quinghua #scum villain self saving system #uchiha itachi #itachi uchiha #obito uchiha #uchiha obito

30 notes · View notes

youling-the-ghost · 3 months ago

Text

sfth incorrect quotes pt.7 because I haven't made these in *checks notes* ALMOST A WEEK?!?!

Sam: My hands are cold. Luke: Here, let me hold them. Sam: My lips are cold too. Luke: *covers Sam's mouth with his hand* Luke: I wasn’t that drunk. AJ: You colored my face with a highlighter because you said I was important. Luke: BECAUSE YOU ARE! Tom: Mint is just cold spicy. The Squad: ... Sam: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

Tom: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Luke: They do. AJ: ...Why did you say that with such certainty? Luke: Don’t say a word. Sam: Fergalicious. Luke: Sam, I said no words. Sam: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you. Sam, to the Squad: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go. AJ: But how- Sam, ignoring him: "But how", you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say "no thanks". Luke: Am I a boy? Am I a girl? It doesn't matter. I'm going to burn your house down. (yes I'm continuing with the "Luke is an arsonist" bit) Sam: Look, Tom, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday. Luke: Fight me! AJ: Ha, look at your size! What are you gonna do, kick my ankle? *Later* Tom: Why is AJ crying? Sam: Luke kicked him really hard on the ankle. Police Officer: You have the right to remain silent. AJ: I choose to waive that right! AJ: *screams* Tom: Dude, I will never forgive Craigslist for banning me after I wrote a post seeking a sworn nemesis. Whoever reported that is obviously my nemesis but I was so pissed. Sam: Hey! Tom: What do you want? Sam: Remember what we were talking about yesterday? Tom: Nope. Tom: Be kind. Everyone is fighting their own battles. Luke: Why would I be kind? I will be brutal and relentless and ride into battle by their side! AJ & Luke: *"accidentally" set the kitchen on fire* AJ: We need an adult! Luke: AJ, you are an adult! AJ: We need an adultier adult! Get Tom! Tom: Sam, keep an eye on Luke today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched. Sam: Sure, I'd love to see Luke getting punched. Tom: Try again. Sam, sighing: I will try to stop Luke from getting punched. AJ: So are you gonna explain how the hell you crashed my car? Luke: Well we were driving and there was a deer in the road, so I said "Sam, deer!" AJ: ...And what did Sam do? Luke: ...He said "Yes, Honey?" (when gay chicken goes too far, but not in the way you were expecting) Sam: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? Tom: Tom: Why are you eating dirt? Sam: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question. Luke: I hate Sam. Tom: Don’t say hate. That is a mean word. Luke: Fine, I LOATHE Sam. ("Sam is full of shit." - Luke Manning, Discord Q&A, 2024) Sam: There is no i in happyness... Tom: There is if you fucking spell it right. Luke: watching their house burn down Luke: Luke: *starts filming* Waddup, guys, welcome to my vlog, today's topic: how to get away with accidentally committing arson because you forgot Spaghetti O's cans are metal and thus non-microwavable! Step one: deny everything. (I'm determined to make arsonist!Luke a reccuring joke) Tom: Go ahead, Sam. Let it out, cry. If you don't, your tear ducts will get blocked up, and then when you get old, you won't be able to cry. AJ: Just when we thought it was safe to let you back into the conversation. Sam: All right, AJ, that’s it, you’re grounded! I found a rap album hiding under your bed and it was the clean version. I didn’t raise you to be such a nerd! AJ: I’m not even your kid- ("I get my motherfricking baby back, baby back-") Sam: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Luke: Okay. Sam: And make out during the scary parts. Luke: Th- Luke: The scary parts. Luke: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Sam: You guys worried about Tom? AJ: Totally! Luke: Yeah, he called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, "what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?" Sam: And what'd you say? Luke: "I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno." AJ: Sam: He's lucky to have you as a friend. Some guy, to Luke: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up! Luke: *proceeds to kick them in the shin and run away* Sam, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Luke cute or small.

#shoot from the hip #shoot from the hip incorrect quotes #I still don't know what compelled me to make luke an arsonist in these #luke manning #alexander jeremy #sam russell #tom mayo

41 notes · View notes

paingoes · 5 months ago

Text

Destroyer - Sea Changes

(Masterlist)

(Content: dissociation, fear, manhandling, conditioning, begging, threats of violence, objectification)

======================

Paris did come to deal with him, eventually. It couldn’t be avoided. But Delta found it strangely bearable. Fair. He knew Paris wasn’t hitting as hard as he could have, not as hard as he had a right to. He wasn’t yelling, either.

“Why the fuck would you put me in that situation?” He asked Delta, like he really wanted to know.

“I’m sorry,” Delta repeated, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m s-“

“Stop!” Paris grabbed his shirt, “Cool it.”

Delta was like a ragdoll. He offered no resistance at all. He shut up when Paris told him to. There was a strange, foggy look in his eyes. It was scary. In that moment, Paris didn’t even have to try.

The spell didn’t break. Not for a while, anyway. Delta eventually calmed down enough to stop seeing the experiments whenever he closed his eyes. Their creaky voices stopped ringing in his ears. But even after the comedown, he was different. He was needy. For someone like him, this could not manifest itself in ordinary ways. What he experienced was an inescapable desire to be forgiven.

==============

“C’mere,” Paris beckoned. He did so, immediately. Delta supposed not much had changed outwardly. He would’ve done it before too, but that was just following orders. Now, he felt differently. He did it because Paris wanted him to, because he wanted to be obedient, because he wanted Paris to approve.

Delta kneeled down beside him, closing one eye as Paris raked the side of his face, taking a handful of his hair. Not quite flinching away. Paris tightened his grip.

“Don’t be cute. Don’t think you’re safe just because I saved your ass this time. You’re not off the hook. I should make you wear chains the rest of your life for that little stunt. Tell me what you were doing,” He shook him a little.

“I’m sorry,” Delta repeated, “Thank you, Your Highness. I’m sorry-”

“God, you’re like a broken record,” Paris pushed him back, spinning in his desk chair.

“Sorry.” Delta winced, “I was just curious. I won’t do it again.”

“No fucking shit you won’t do it again!” Paris laughed, “Are you serious?”

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see it. I wasn’t doing anything.”

Paris grabbed his face again, studying him. Delta was telling the truth. They both knew it. He was too smart to attempt escape, all too aware of what would follow. Super-weapons don’t just walk off into the night without consequence. He’d never make it far.

“Okay then,” Paris released him. His voice was a little softer, “You know damn well you don’t have permission to access that, regardless. Stop taking advantage of my kindness. It’s not right.”

“I’m sorry. I know. Thank you. I’m sorry.” “Just shut up. If you think you can-” Paris froze. Delta had put his forehead to Paris’s knee, in an unmistakable gesture of supplication.

With a sigh, Paris placed a hand on top of Delta’s head, gently tousling his hair.

==============

If Paris had enjoyed what it was like when Delta was subservient to him, he was totally unprepared for the calamity that was Delta feeling indebted to him. The little fire in his eyes had gone out. He didn’t argue anymore. The change came on so suddenly that the prince didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t berate Delta for his defiance anymore, as had become habit. He realized mid-sentence that it wasn’t true. Delta was trying. Paris had gotten what he wanted, really. The lessons ceased. Delta didn’t look at him with resentment anymore, but what had replaced it was a kind of sick longing. What was Paris ever supposed to do with that?

Delta forgot what it was he needed to be forgiven for. It changed everyday. It didn’t matter. He wanted Paris to like him, to earn the mercy he was continuously being shown. Because Paris had stopped beating him, for the most part. He saw the long stretches without violence as a kind of benevolence. It made him want to do better. The cycle went on.

“It’s a good thing you’re behaving now,” Paris said. He was laying on his own bed, playing on his phone. Delta was kneeling on the floor. “Everyone found out about the breach. If they think I’m not dealing with it properly, they’re going to try and take matters into their own hands. You scare the fuck out of them. Can you look more penitent the next time we go out?”

Paris put the phone down, turning his head. He looked Delta over, then said flatly, “I should probably give you more visible marks.”

Delta didn’t react to this. Paris hadn’t expected him to. He’d been so quiet lately. Paris guessed he was happy about this? Another victory for Paris? Yay?

He still wouldn’t let Delta out of his sight, even with the sea change. Paris only ever dismissed him for training or for sleep. Despite or maybe because of Nezu’s advice, Paris brought Delta out on business much more frequently, showing off the psychic’s intact limbs and unquestioning obedience.

Delta knew he was being flaunted, but he didn’t mind it so much. It was only in public that Delta truly felt Paris was on his side. As if Paris’s anger at the world, for a moment, did not extend to him. He began to think of himself as an extension of the true Empire, the one that would prove itself indomitable. He needed to believe this. It was the only answer that made sense anymore.

~~~

Tags: @catnykit @indigoviolet311 @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @defire @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump @pumpkin-spice-whump

#whump #whump scenario #whump community #whump prompt #living weapon whumpee #dehumanization #living weapon trope #dissociation #fear #manhandling #conditioning #begging #threats of violence #objectification #nooo delta dont internalize the imperial mythology ahahah youre so sexy

32 notes · View notes

evvlevie · 2 years ago

Text

❤️‍🔥♥️ LESSONS I NEEDED TO LEARN IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND SHIFTING ♥️❤️‍🔥

Hi, Hello, it’s your favourite shifting blogger Evie again, and I have stuff to tell you 🫂♥️

Here‘s the situation for people who aren’t aware of what I have been up to: My blog has been dead for a quite long amount of time, because I am in university now and I basically decided to focus on the life in this reality for a while instead of my desired one. University can be quite stressful, too which is why I haven’t even been able to think about shifting, so that it eventually lost importance in my life. I wanna be clear that I have not given up on it or that I don’t want to shift anymore, it just wasn’t a priority for the first time in my life since like April.

1️⃣ You always get what you want.

I know I have been preaching this quite often on here, but ever since I haven’t been forcing myself to shift anymore this became very apparent to me. I noticed that if I had a desire, even if I didn’t make it a dominant thought in my head, that it showed up manifesting in my reality no matter what because I was desiring it and I always get what I want. For example: I met a guy here in Uni and we are in a friendgroup. I am not romantically interested in him, but I kinda wanted him to admit that I was his favourite friend out of the group. I tried to manifest him to say these exact words, but instead a situation arose in which he expressed the same message in a different way, that made me realize that his way of wording that same context made me way more content with the situation. Even if I wasn’t trying to make him say what he ended up saying, he said what I didn’t even know I wanted, but I did. I got what I wanted. He never said „you are my favorite“ but instead he said what my true desire actually was. This was a very important thing for me to learn. I needed to be reminded of the fact that I never fail to get my desires met. Even if shifting is one of them. If I want to shift, I will because I always get what I want.

2️⃣ let go

Manifestations come when you let them manifest. Jello only sets hard when you stop wiggling it around. That’s the idea. My desires manifested after I mentioned that I wanted them to myself once. That’s because if you keep telling yourself „why don‘t I have my desire yet“ you are actively living in a reality where your desire isn’t yours. We all knew this fact and it’s nothing new, but right here where I am, the place where I don‘t really have the ability to even think about something else than my studies, my manifestations came the quickest. I am not dwelling in the old story, I am not asking myself where my desires are and I am literally just desiring shit for a minute and it comes flying at me because I even forget I am desiring that stuff. I needed to be reminded that obsessing with your manifestations isn’t what is going to get them faster to you. I needed to be reminded about the fact that the more time I spend in the state of hoping the longer things will take to manifest.

3️⃣ a simple decision is a manifestation

My favorite way of manifesting is deciding. I‘m honest: I love it. I sit in class and I‘m thinking „wouldn’t it be nice to have xyz right now?“ then I remember that I am a fucking boss at manifestation and I go „okay so it’s decided, xyz is mine.“ and that’s how I go about my day. When I catch myself thinking „oh wait I don‘t have xyz“ I always remind my self „oh no wait I‘m silly, I manifested it a minute ago! Stupid me“ and I don‘t mean that in a panicking or self-controlling manner. I know people love to preach about mental diet on here but this always sounds so harsh to me. I literally take it the most lazy and chill way possible. I decide I want something, I decide it’s mine and after that I treat it like it’s mine. Even if you can’t see it in the 3D reality yet, manifestations aren’t little magic spells that might work or might not. They always work 100% so if you just stay consistent with it it always appears. I can’t tell you how many packages have arrived at ridiculous paces to me because I decided I wanted a certain dress to be here on a very specific day. Shipping usually takes 10 days? Not with me, my shit comes in three days because that when I want it here. I decide that I will be able to wear my dress the day I want to, so yes the dress arrives on time, because I say so.

4️⃣ you‘re literally doing it all by yourself

People who are just starting out to manifest and shift are often under the impression that when you‘re manifesting you are requesting something specific from a certain type of outer force. Like you are placing an order with a sketchy website that might or might not deliver your order because it’s that cheap and unusual. I have been reading it and saying it to my own followers all of the time that „you are giving your desires to yourself“ and that „you are shifting yourself left and right and not some outer energy“. But only like two days ago it actually hit me. Everything IS me. You get your desires because you are giving them to yourself, you just have to decide. You get what you want because you obviously know that you want it. That’s exactly why the laws never fail because you obviously won’t cheat yourself. That’s exactly why the laws can’t work against you, because the only energy that has the ability to change and decide shit is you. Why would you ever work against you? That doesn’t even make sense! When you are doubting shifting you are basically ordering yourself not to do it. BECAUSE ITS ALL YOU. But like it’s LITERALLY ONLY YOU. No god, no ominous universe, no power above you. NONE. It’s you or nothing. You literally want to shift yourself, but your doubts are basically you standing in your own way. There is nothing that has to approve your desires other than you. Your subconscious is you. Think of yourself like a sugar daddy. Your consciousness is a sugar baby who really loves nice shiny things and your subconscious is the sugar daddy with all the money that he wants to spend as much as he possibly can. When the sugar Baby asks the sugar daddy for nice shoes he buys them for her. When the sugar baby wants a new lambo he will buy it for her. And when she requests a whole ducking country he will buy it for her. And bestie when you are your own sugar daddy how the fuck can you not get what you request hm? Exactly! You are the sugar baby AND daddy. You are giving everything to yourself constantly. YOU PLACE YOUR ORDER WITH YOURSELF, HOW CAN YOU NOT GET IT?It’s never something else.

So here we are. Evies realizations after I spent time away from obsessing with shifting and manifestations. I don‘t remember who told me that, but since everything is you, you can always find the answers to spiritual questions within yourself. After these 3 weeks of distance I finally figured out how I (and I mean I as in particularly me, because for you shifting and manifestation can work vastly differently) need to approach shifting and manifestation. Spirituality is very very individual. Don‘t force other peoples mindsets on yourself, don‘t apply a mindset you do not resonate with and don‘t take every shifters advice at face value. Different things work in different people. The real answers to all of your questions are within yourself not on tumblr, not on amino and definitely not on tiktok.

I Hope I was able to help you guys today and I really really hope you guys have amazing holidays ❤️❤️❤️

Thank all of you for 700 followers while I am at it! I appreciate every single follower who decided that my content is worth staying for and worth paying attention to. I couldn’t be more thankful for my blog, there is absolutely nothing that fulfills me as much as helping people. Thank you for being my platform and thank you for being a key aspect to my passion. ♥️❤️‍🔥🫂

Yours in every reality,

Evie <3

546 notes · View notes

spideyzgirl · 2 years ago

Text

all that glitters is snow

A/N: a christmas blurb to drag me out of this terrible writers block 🥲 so sorry if this is terrible it’s been a while. happy holidays <33

summary: having never experienced a cold winter season, peter decides to take you on an ice skating date.

pairing: tom!peter x reader

warnings: none

wc: 866

masterlist | taglist

“ice skating?” you smiled once peter removed his hands from your eyes, showing his own smile as well.

“what do you think?”

“well, it’s definitely not what i had in mind when you told me you wanted to take me on ‘a chilly date’. i thought you meant the stew, but this works too.”

“i still don’t understand how you misinterpreted that. it’s not even spelled the same.” peters voice echoed due to the emptiness of the space. strange. the skating rink was usually bustling with people around this time. that had you wondering what tricks peter pulled land this.

“hey, where is everyone?” you asked as your eyes scanned the rink, realizing just how alone you both were.

“what do you mean?”

“there’s no one here. like at all.”

“so?” peter hid his smile.

“peter, it’s the rockefeller center. it’s never empty like this.” you stated matter-of-factly.

“not unless someone were to rent out the rink for a special occasion. i wonder who did that.” peter squinted his eyes as if he were thinking.

“did you really do this for me?”

“of course i did,” he shrugged. “without mentioning the fact that mr. stark is paying for all of this.” he kissed your nose.

when you told peter you were from florida, one of the hottest states that never gets any snow, he made it his mission to get you to experience a fun, snowy christmas. it had been an excruciatingly cold week of making snowmen and snow angels, and having snowball fights.

you didn’t understand why or how anyone could enjoy having a fast, hard ball of cold hurled at their face, but it was worth participating once you saw the adorable smile on peters face.

as soon as you got your skates on, it was just you and peter on the ice. even though you were clinging onto him the entire time, you had to admit it was really fun. it was fun up until peter suggested you learn how to skate by yourself. despite you reminding him countless times that you’re terrible at skating, peter still insisted that you try a little skating on your own.

you stood like a statue as you squinted at peter, who stood opposite of you on the rink.

“alright, now come to me,” peter encouraged you. “you got this, i believe in you.”

“i don’t got this! i don’t got this at all!” you shouted. “peter come get me!”

“no, you come get me.” he opened his arms.

“i thought this was a date, not a skating lesson?” you groaned, swallowing thickly as you tried pushing forward. it wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t fast, but you were able to push yourself forward.

“oh shit, it’s working a little. peter, i’m doing it! are you watching?” you cheered.

“good job honey, now try going a little faster.”

you lost your balance here and there, but you began to move even faster than you were before.

“see, isn’t it fun when you do it on your own?”

the cold air bit at your face as you sailed towards peter, adrenaline pumping through veins. your smile faded though, when you realized you were going faster than expected.

“uh, peter? how do i stop?” you called out, almost panicking.

“what?”

“how- how do i stop!”

“oh. how do you stop? it’s easy, just-“ peters eyes widened when he too realized you were moving entirely too fast towards him. “y/n, stop!” he cried.

but it was too late, your body crashed into peters, taking you both down to the ground as you landed on top of him. peter groaned; having landed on his back, he had the wind knocked right out of him. you on the other hand couldn’t keep from laughing, which confused peter.

“that’s one way to stop, for sure.” peter grumbled.

“i’m sorry i ran into you. are you okay?”

“your elbow is stabbing my pancreas right now, but i’ll be alright.”

“you don’t even know where that is.” you rolled your eyes.

you tried to get up, but peter wrapped an arm around your back to hold you in place. “wait, let’s just stay here for a second. i need to catch my breath.”

“okay. did you have fun?”

“yeah, up until you tried to kill me. it was great.”

“i had fun too,” you giggled. “but i have to confess, there are ice skating rinks in florida, so this isn’t exactly a new experience for me.”

“could’ve fooled me.” peter joked, laughing when you hit his chest. he connected his lips to yours, giving you a soft, delicate kiss, warm enough to make you both stop shivering. snow landed in his hair, and you looked up to see how pretty and mesmerizing the night sky looked as it snowed.

“hm, a kiss in the snow? that’s different, but i like it.” you shrugged.

“that wasn’t on my list of things to do in the snow, but hey.” peter kissed you again, but even longer than before, not wanting this sweet moment to end.

“i wonder what else we can do in the snow.” you winked.

“you’re talking crazy, i think you have hypothermia.”

taglist 🏷️

@niallhoransupremacy @raajali3 @crazyknight @evermoresilk @hqllandxx @popeheywardssecretgf @sukiinet @luvhann @tellmeonce @tiredofc0ffee @saliciaknows @eatasockortwo @timotheechalametswife @fairydxll @lnmp89 @tomhollandsslut @chaostudee @ayle4231 @powerpuffluuvv @aurelie39 @eviewriites @captainmarvelnerd

454 notes · View notes

sophierequests · 2 years ago

Note

The f!reader x Nikolai fic including Vasily was gorgeous! I just found it and wow - perfection. Absolutely jaw dropping.

Could I get a follow up fic about Nikolai's recovery? Maybe there are some after effects of the poison and he's struggling to get better. He's back at the Grand Palace but the fever, pain and dizziness keep plaguing him and he's having a hard time dealing with being so weak and feeling sick. Besides the wound on his chest hasn't healed either yet...

Basically reader being cute af and taking care of sick Nikolai (maybe also Vasily being a little but caring shit lmao)

bring me back to life // in the bright lilac light part two

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader

A/N: This is part two to my 'Violet Rot' fic, so please check that out before you proceed with this one. Otherwise, you probably won't understand some of the references and the general set-up. I did not expect that anyone would want a part two to this particular fanfic, but I'm very glad you asked! Taking care of a sick Nikolai is very dear to my heart <3 Now I just have to wait for someone requesting a part three with the wedding djhalhldhja Thank you for requesting this, I hope I managed to live up to your expectations <3

You can find part one here!

Summary: Recovery is hard and there is nothing one can do to speed it up - very much to Nikolai's dismay.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, very much Fluff

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, injuries and Vasily

"Why does he still look like he's standing on death's doorstep?" Vasily whispered to you as he looked down on his very sickly-appearing brother, who was supposed to have recovered from his injuries by now.

"Try getting stabbed with a poisoned blade and we'll see how you look after barely a week of being home," you replied, letting a comforting hand run through Nikolai's golden hair, carefully removing the wet strands that stuck to his fever-stricken forehead.

"I'm sure I'd at least have a little bit more…colour on my cheeks. That's all. He looks terrible," the prince mumbled almost childishly.

"I'm not unconscious, Vasily. I can hear you. Loud and clear for that matter. And it's not really aiding my headache," your fiancé rasped out, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"I think it would be best if we'd give him a bit of space. Some peace would very likely do him some good," you sighed as you filled up another glass of water to at least keep him hydrated, putting it beside his bed and attempting to stand up.

"Stay, please." You felt his hand tightening around your wrist, his grip hardly firm enough to pull your hand towards him.

"I'll take that as my sign to leave." Vasily gave you a courteous nod before sauntering to the door. "Don't die while I'm gone, brother. I'd hate to be the one having to break the news to mother."

"Don't get blackout drunk. I'd hate to be the one having to tell Nikolai about you vomiting into one of the plant pots again," you called after him, earning a faint chuckle from the man next to you and an offended grunt from his brother.

You turned back to Nikolai, watching him struggle as he attempted to sit up. The wound on his chest was still an oozing mess that just didn't want to heal properly. He could barely move his torso to complete the most basic tasks, and it infuriated him deeply. The additional fever and dizzy spells didn't improve his already low spirits.

"I hate to admit it, but our pompous little prince is right. You do look terrible, my love."

"Oh, so now you're taking his side?" he lamented dramatically, presumably putting all his energy into the act.

"Well, he is to be my future brother-in-law, after all. I must agree with him occasionally or else he might think badly of me. And who would want that?" you mused with highly sarcastic undertones.

"And I'm your future husband, does that not have any merit in the matter?"

"You're right. I should marry Vasily instead. Just to not commit any sort of treason by periodically opposing my beloved." Nikolai's gaze shot towards you, shock and a slight hint of disgust in his eyes.

"Don't you dare even think about that," he griped, fiddling with the delicate engagement ring on your finger.

It was a habit he had picked up ever since he had proposed to you. Whenever nervousness or stress overtook him, he'd reach out to take your hand into his, mindlessly twisting and turning the golden band. On the rare occasion that you weren't around, he would do the same with his own. It just wasn't as comforting.

"I would never," you snorted. "I do have standards. Even though I had to tweak them quite a bit to consent to marrying you."

Instead of giving you one of his snarky comebacks, he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go of it. His free hand reached for the glass of water on the side table next to him, but he was too weak to properly hold on to it, causing it to shake heavily. You quickly snatched it out of his hand, earning a dissatisfied glare from the young Lantsov.

"Love, I can-"

"Your hands are shaking like reeds in the wind, darling. As much as I would love to see you do all these things by yourself again, you can't right now. And that's okay. I'll take care of you until then," you assured.

"It's just so…frustrating," he let out a huffed breath, visibly overwhelmed by the whole situation.

He wanted nothing more than to just feel like his old self again. It infuriated him how weak he was. The pain should have gotten better by now, yet he still felt like a frail porcelain doll that threatened to break every time it left the shelf. And as much as he appreciated you taking care of him, he couldn't shake off the feeling of being useless.

"I know," you sighed, letting your eyes trail down to the bandage covering his chest. "But the more pressure you put yourself under, the longer it'll take for you to get better."

Nikolai turned his head to the side, not wanting you to see his face in case he wasn't able to keep the tears from falling. You seeing him cry would only humiliate him more, he thought.

"Nikolai." You cupped his cheek with one hand, pulling his face back to look at you. He hated that you knew him well enough to realise what was going on inside his head. "Don't be so hard on yourself. We're all so relieved that you're alive - even Vasily. No one expects you to do anything other than recover. No matter how long that might take. Please get some rest and let me help you."

"You shouldn't have to take care of me," he breathed out. "You shouldn't have to worry about my health or whether I will make it through the night. I'm so sorry for putting you through all of this."

"I'm not doing this because I have to, Nikolai. I'm doing this because I want to. Taking care of you isn't burdensome. Not to me." He closed his eyes as your thumb began to trace circles over the slight ridge of his cheekbone. "We're engaged - soon to be married. One of the conditions for that is to be there for the other. In sickness and in health. We may have not exchanged our vows yet, but that doesn't matter. I love you too much to watch you wither away like this. Let me do this for you."

"Thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Now, drink something and then try to sleep for a bit. I still have some correspondence to take care of, but it won't take too long. I'll come back as soon as I'm done. Send for me in case you need me. " He only nodded in response, too tired to say or do much more.

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead before you left his bedroom. Of course, you would have preferred staying with him, even if it was just to watch him sleep. However, you still had a few duties of your own to fulfil and you couldn’t shove them away forever. You couldn’t allow yourself another misstep after lying to your parents about your whereabouts, that was for sure.

After close to two hours spent with measly paperwork and bureaucratic duties, your focus was pried away from the neatly stacked documents on your desk by muffled bickering in the hallway outside your door. You took a quick look at your pocket watch, concluding that it was definitely way too late for your parents to still be out and about.

A bit hesitantly, you abandoned your previous occupation, carefully tiptoeing towards the corridor where the noise had to come from. The scene you had to witness almost gave you a heart attack.

Vasily stood in the middle of the hall, his normally pristine white shirt dirtied with bloodstains. He was hunched over, hovering close to another person that sat on the hard marble floor, their back pressed against the wall. When you noticed that said person was none other than your fiancé - blood smeared all over his hand and shirt, a dazed look on his face - you immediately sprung into action.

“Vasily?” You directed your question at the more alert-looking Lantsov. “By the Saints, what happened?”

“Fuck, if I only knew!” he replied, his stern features relaxing as you approached the two of them. “I was just about to retire to my chambers after a hard day of-”

“Day drinking? You reek of kvas, Vasily,” you muttered under your breath, poignantly ignoring the scowl he gave you.

“As I said, I was about to make my way back to my chambers until I saw this fool lying on the floor with blood everywhere. I thought he was dying! I tried to get him back to his own bedroom, but I can’t possibly carry him back there on my own. Especially not with all that carnage on him.” You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, crouching down next to his brother to assess whatever was going on.

“Nikolai,” you said his name once, your hand finding his face like it had a few hours earlier. His eyes were open, but he seemed to be somewhat loopy. “Love, are you alright?”

“Yes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, his bloody hand clutching the wound on his chest as he tried to sit up straight. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” you warned, looking at the quite deep cut that ran across his arm and hand. “Do you think you can walk back to your room? With our help, of course.” Vasily scoffed, but you didn’t let that bother you. “I have to take a look at that. You don’t need another injury that runs the risk of developing an infection.”

He wanted to say yes, but when another jolt of pain shot through his body, you knew that you couldn’t let that happen.

“That’s a no. Vasily, I will need your help to carry him to my bedroom. It’s right around the corner and we won’t risk having any of his wounds reopen.”

Even though the prince gave you a sharp look of dismay, he followed your bidding. Slowly, he bent down to his brother, slinging an arm around his middle to awkwardly force him to stand. Nikolai tried everything in his power to get both of his feet on the ground. However, he could only hold his weight for a few seconds before his knees threatened to give in. Vasily had to stifle a gag when he felt the wet blood dripping on his skin and staining his clothes. If you hadn’t been so worried about the state of your boyfriend you would have probably found his reaction pretty amusing.

“Are you certain that you want this biological hazard to be brought to your chambers?” he asked, turning up his nose when his brother let out a low grunt. “Wouldn’t it be preferable to bring him to a Healer? You know, like a person that is specifically trained to treat wounds like this?”

“No Healer, please,” Nikolai panted, tightening his hold on Vasily’s shoulder.

Both of you knew that he wasn’t too fond of Healers. It was not like he disliked or opposed them, but after seeing what people like them were used for in the Second Army. He had seen what they could fix, but he had also seen what they could destroy.

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it. As much as I have seen, it’s nothing life-threatening. And even if it were, we all know that I have some experience in treating life-threatening injuries by now.” You flashed Vasily a cocky grin, reminding him of the threat on his life you made should he ever even do so much as think about telling anyone about what he saw in that medical tent.

“If you insist,” he mumbled, taking steady steps towards your room.

Once you finally reached the safety of your chambers, you ordered him to set him down in one of the armchairs next to your vanity - bloodstains be damned. Nikolai groaned as soon as his brother let go of him, his back hitting the braided wicker quite harshly.

“Uhm, I’ll go and…clean myself up now. Especially before mother sees this,” Vasily declared, his gaze staying on his little brother for a bit longer before he turned to leave. “You know where to find me in case you need any help hiding the body. Or whatever issue you might need help with.”

“Thank you, Vasily.” No matter how often this man had infuriated and annoyed you before, you couldn’t help but appreciate his unexpected acts of kindness when you needed them most. Even with his unnecessary commentary. “I think I can handle him for the night. But thank you nonetheless.”

With an acknowledging nod, he exited the room, leaving you alone to deal with a bleeding Nikolai.

“First things first, I’ll need to get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” you explained, hurrying towards the bathroom to grab a wet rag and all the other medical supplies you were sure to need.

Since you couldn’t have been sure whether the bloodstains on his shirt were from the fresh wound on his arm or the stab wound on his chest, you decided that his shirt had to go - it was ruined anyway, so what was the harm?

“Darling, shouldn’t we get married before consummating said marriage?” your fiancé joked, looking down at you as you unbuttoned his shirt.

“Kolya, this is not the time,” you rebutted light-heartedly, pulling the ruined shirt off his shoulders and allowing him to do the rest.

With rather unsteady hands, you tried to clean all of the remaining blood off his torso and arms, seeing that the wound on his hand wasn’t too drastic after all. He didn’t fuss when you tossed the dirty rag, replacing the warm feeling of the wet fabric with the cool sting of the numbing cream. The relief on his face was evident in an instant.

As you put a bandage around his arm and hand, you felt his gaze fixating on you, not leaving your form, not even when you left his side to clean out the piece of cloth and stash away your medical supplies. You couldn’t help but think about his nickname ‘sobachka’. He hated that nickname, but in moments like these, it rang more true than ever. He really was a lost little puppy sometimes.

“Are you alright, Nikolai?” you asked softly, stealing a brief glance at the bandage wrapped around his torso, which he detested with a burning passion.

“I am now. Thank you, my love,” he sighed, letting his gaze waiver towards the clunky bandage on his arm.

“Do you mind telling me what caused you to drag yourself outside of your room with a bleeding wound? How did you even manage that?”

“I was thirsty,” he began, the façade of the confident prince slipping, revealing a meek little boy that had to talk about something he really didn’t want to. “I couldn’t hold onto the glass and it shattered on the floor. And since I didn’t want to have someone else remove it, I tried cleaning it up. Well, let’s just say it didn’t turn out how it was supposed to.”

“And why didn’t you call for me, honey?” you sighed, retrieving one of his spare shirts from your dresser, not wanting him to get even sicker from the cool evening breeze that filtered in through your open windows.

“I didn’t want anyone else to see me like…this.”

“So you opted for stumbling through half of the Grand Palace looking like you had just murdered someone instead?”

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot less logical than I had imagined it.” Now you could see how he and Vasily were related.

“You were really lucky that your brother’s drinking habit forces him to be out this late. I don’t even want to imagine how long you would have stayed outside if he hadn’t found you.”

“We should probably call him again to help with getting me back to my chambers,” he fretted, dreading having to rely on Vasily’s help again.

“Absolutely not. You’re staying here for the night. I’m not letting you out of my eyesight tonight. Not after this stunt,” you declared, grinning at the befuddled expression on his face.

“We’re sleeping in the same bed? Before we’re actually married? Scandalous.”

“Choose your words wisely, or else I might let you sleep on the floor.”

“You would let a poor injured man sleep on the cold, hard floor? That’s pretty heartless.”

“Maybe I should genuinely reconsider marrying you if that’s how you see me. I heard Vasily is still looking for a wife,” you sneered, throwing him the shirt and watching while he put it on.

“Tough luck. You’d have to compete with his love for whiskey and horses first, and I have a sneaking suspicion of which one of you would win that scrabble.” You let out a faint laugh at that, shaking your head as you moved closer to him.

“Alright, enough slander for the day. Let’s get your stubborn ass to bed.” You offered him your arm, supporting him steadily before you cautiously manoeuvred him towards your bed. He was very unsteady on his feet, heavily relying on you to keep him standing, but you were glad that his knees didn’t threaten to buckle this time.

Slowly, you let him sit on the bed, lifting the duvet for him to crawl under. You were very careful when you slid in next to him. Even though you didn’t want to treat him like he might turn to dust as soon as someone touched him, you still had to be cautious to not accidentally hurt him.

A part of your worry subsided when he opened his arms, beckoning you to come closer to him. He may be a bit weaker than what he was used to, but his neediness was still on the same level as it was before. So with a hint of hesitance, you scooted closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you.

His arms were still wrapped around your waist when you woke up the next morning. The sun that filtered through the window bathed both of you in a warm golden light that made wanting to get up even more difficult than you had expected. You couldn’t even begin to describe how much the thought of waking up like this for the rest of your life excited you.

You placed a gentle kiss on the sharp line of his jaw, tracing your arm along his arms before slipping out of his grasp. You had expected him to wake up after feeling you kiss him, however, he remained laying in bed like a wet sack of flour. For a moment you panicked, fearing that something might have been wrong with him. But when you intended to reach for his wrist in an attempt to check his pulse, a sonorant snore left his mouth. Perhaps he really just needed a long good night’s sleep.

He only showed any sort of life when you re-entered the bedroom after you had changed. His snores had seized completely now, replaced with his soft breathy chuckle as he watched you parade around your room.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you laughed, seeing him sit up slowly. You were glad to see that he looked a whole lot better than yesterday. “You slept well, I assume?”

“How could I not? I slept next to you, after all.” His hazel eyes glistened in the light, resembling two pieces of true amber. “I can’t recall the last time I had a dream this pleasant.”

“What did you dream of?”

“I dreamt of a life with you in it.” His honesty made you freeze for a second. He was quite the piece of work. One second he had you fearing for his life, and the next he made your heart skip a beat because of how utterly besotted with you he was.

“I’m already in your life, Kolya. And I’m not intending to leave it anytime soon.” You walked over to your bed to press a faint kiss to his cheek. As a reminder that you would always be here.

“If I get bet-”

“When. When you get better,” you corrected, reaching for his hand to squeeze it reassuringly.

“When I get better, we should look into moving the wedding forward. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

“So eager to marry me now, aren’t we?” you laughed, letting out a high-pitched squeak when he pulled you towards him. “Nikolai, be careful!”

“Oh, love, I’ve been eager to marry you ever since the day I proposed to you.” He peppered your cheeks with kisses, forcing you to giggle like a young schoolgirl. Every single etiquette lesson you ever had the joy of attending flew right out of the window while your fiancé continued to make you laugh and wiggle erratically.

“I suppose I’ll have to agree to that.”

This was the life you wanted to have.

Nikolai had opted to stay in your chambers for a few days longer. This way, you would be able to get to him quicker, he reasoned. And obviously, you weren’t one to deny him. Staying with you seemingly helped him in his recovery, and it helped you in calming your nerves.

You could the colour return to his cheeks again, the longer he rested and let himself be taken care of. He was still weaker than he had anticipated, but he could do most of the minor self-care tasks himself. He could hold a glass, eat, and even managed to get himself to the bathroom without any sort of support. Even though that felt like a minuscule step to him, you were more than proud of him.

One week after he started sleeping in your room, he made you feel even prouder.

It had been such a long and tiring day of working through the piles of documents and correspondence that you could quite literally feel your body gravitating towards the floor. A quick glimpse at the clock told you that Nikolai was probably already waiting for you to come back. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all today - you had been with him for breakfast, lunch and dinner - but he still managed to pump up his theatrics and act like you had abandoned him for years. His penchant for overdramatisation didn’t help you with stowing away all your paperwork.

You pulled yourself to your feet, arranging and sorting all the different stacks you had created, before you put them in their respective cabinets surrounding your table. You had been so focused on your work that you didn’t hear the door behind you clicking shut, and someone approaching you very slowly.

A pair of firm arms wrapped around your middle from behind, someone’s head now resting on your shoulder. You were close to whacking whoever it was with the not particularly heavy paperweight, but when a gentle kiss was pressed to the column of your throat, you rethought that intention. Nikolai let out a muffled hum, his body flush with yours as you sunk into his touch. You didn’t begin to process the semantics of his presence until you noticed him sway backwards ever so slightly.

“Wait, Nikolai?” You wiggled yourself out of his grasp, your hands still resting on his in case he needed to steady himself. When you turned, you saw the smug-looking prince glance at you like he had just been caught red-handed in doing something he shouldn’t.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked, sounding almost offended.

“How did you get here?” You waved off his question, letting your eyes wander towards the door in an attempt to check for someone who could have helped him get here. The walk from your bedroom to the waiting room wasn’t long, but it was definitely longer than the walk to your bedroom.

“How do you expect me to get here?” He smiled at you, waiting for you to finally understand what this statement implied.

You raised a quizzical brow, not really following what he was trying to tell you.

“Since my horse didn’t fit through your door frame I had to take it upon myself to walk over to you,” he explained, watching the realisation spread over your face.

“You walked over here by yourself?” you beamed, unable to contain your excitement. “Kolya, that’s so good! I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d get better soon. Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Do y-”

He silenced you by pressing his lips onto yours, abruptly ending your ramblings with a smile on his face.

“I’m fine. A bit sore, but fine.” He kissed your forehead once more. “It’s late. I was wondering why you didn’t come to bed. Apparently, my terribly worrisome heart and undying love for you was enough of a reason for my body to eventually listen to me again.”

“Admit it, your main objective is to push our wedding date forward,” you laughed, looking up at him to see him smile sheepishly.

“I see, you have revealed one of my most well-guarded secrets,” Nikolai bemoaned with a fake scowl.

“If that is one of your most well-guarded secrets, I can’t even begin to imagine what the other end of that spectrum loo-" He kissed you again, uncaring of whatever sarcastic comment you might have to offer.

"Y/N!" The door to your office was slammed open. "Nikolai is not in his or your b-" Vasily stopped dead in his tracks, seeing his brother and fiancée look at him amusedly after you had just visibly been making out.

Both of you watched as a shade of deep red shot into his face as he noted the mistake he made by not knocking.

"Forgive me, I'll leave you to it."

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl @lastwandastan

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #netflix shadow and bone #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic

370 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 1 year ago

Text

*~It's Okay~*

AN: Well this took me a while. And it's because I started writing Diasomnia almost immediately and that's already half done before I even managed to finish this part XD So that should be done in the coming few days!

Word Count: 5.9K

Warnings: Talk of mental illness. Brief Creepy Neige. Swears. She/They Yuu OC.

Pairings: Alluded to Riddle/Floyd

Enjoy~!

Starter, Part 1(Pomefiore), Part 2 (Here), Part 3 (Diasomnia)

Riddle lived his life by a guideline of very strict rules. Rules he’s learned to live with since he was a child, no matter how they made his insides clench or how unfair they seemed. He learned to deal with the growing loneliness, the growing anger at and from himself, how hard it was for Trey to even talk to him some days…the nights where he could only just cry himself to sleep and wake up the next day to do it all over again.

He’s also learned to make amendments to those rules (Sure it took a mental and emotional breakdown, but he learned to compromise). Little gaps in the guidelines that he’s had to extensively think over to make them more ‘fair’ without making the rule obsolete. Cater told him with the new system, Riddle still ruled with an iron fist, but the hold wasn’t as much of a death sentence as before. And Riddle wondered just how far he had slipped into tyrannical madness to realize only then how good that made him feel.

Things were better in Heartslaybul, rules were rules of course. But, sometimes people preferred honey over sugar cubes, and that was okay. Some rules were flexible and it was okay to bend them if it kept his dorm from cracking like an egg. Riddle could learn to bend a bit more and he had.

But one thing he refused to allow was someone in the bed with him whom he didn’t invite. It wasn’t even a rule, simply a preference, but it was a very strong preference. It was enough to put Floyd Leech on his ‘shit list’ since their first year together (The EelMer still hadn’t explained why he was not only in his bed but how the hell he broke into their dorm after hours). He simply did not like waking up to some unknown person being under the sheets with him. It directly ruined the experience of waking up if he panicked the second he did it.

So ripping the sheets away from the body next to him in panic, he could only sigh and pull a face at the beastman next to him. Chenya gave him just as dirty a look, hair messier than normal and only half-dressed. Riddle glared at the cat beastmen before grabbing his pillow and slamming it on his half-awake friend, “When?”

Chenya huffed, a yawn almost slipping into a growl when he closed his mouth. He rolled over, grabbing the pillow from Riddle’s hands and snuggling into it, “Around midnight…Neige got back really late and by the Seven, I wasn’t dealing with it…”

Roommate discourse, a common reason for Chenya to abscond from Royal Sword. Riddle would allow only this once, like he’s allowed it ‘only once’ over a hundred times before.

He yawns, moving himself off the bed and gathering up his outfit for the day. Glancing back at the bed he raised an eyebrow, “Do you have your medication or do I need Trey to bring your emergency ones?”

“...Shit, knew I forgot something…”

Riddle sighed and shook his head, walking toward his ensuite, “My phone is on the bedside table, just text Trey and he’ll bring them up with some food. Are you staying all day? The campus is open to visitors after all.”

Seeing how he wasn’t going to get more sleep, Chenya yawned and stretched, starfishing onto the bed, “Ok…I’ll see you and Trey at lunch for tea and talk. I got so much to rant about…” He barely notices Riddle’s nod before he reaches for the redhead’s phone, sending a quick message to his other friend. Chenya then curled into his friend’s blankets, not falling back asleep, but simply trying to stay present in the rose and paper-scented sheets.

Chenya wasn’t ever sure if getting his signature spell so young was a blessing or a curse. Disappearing seemed fun to the other kids, and it was. He loved popping in and out of view to scare people. But when he stopped being sure if he was even there, when he wasn’t sure if he was seeing something from a place he went to when he disappeared, it got scary. The doctor told his mom that his signature spell may have jump-started his supposed to be teenage psychosis. It was a hereditary trait in his family, ‘Pinker’s were a bunch of psychos’ his dad would joke.

But, because this was sadly a common trait in his family, he got support and help the second the doctor gave the diagnosis. He’s been taking medication ever since and he’s been very lucky to keep his daffy sanity. Sure, he still had moments where he wasn’t sure of where he was or what he was even hoping to do. But familiar things helped, so he covered himself in them. Every last stupid little trinket and patch he and Trey got from coin machines. All the plain black hair clips Riddle would toss out his window when he saw him walk by and his mother wasn’t watching him. Sure it looked silly, but he was silly and that was okay.

Chenya always had fun on the Night Raven campus. The second anyone saw him, it was like a primal switch flipped and they needed to try to kill him. It was hilarious disappearing and watching them run right by him. It was even more fun watching one of the first years he had seen last year with his family. The older guy with him may as well be a copy-and-paste but enlarged. They even made the same face when they yelled at him, pointing him out as a ‘Royal Sword Punk’. The woman with brown hair yelled at them, stating she raised them better than to point and yell in public, but they had already rilled up the surrounding students. Chenya laughed and disappeared around the corner, deciding he had enough fun with the students and slipped back into Heartslaybul via the mirror.

He kept up his spell, smiling at all of the excited students showing off the newly enlarged dorm to their family or friends. He even saw a stray Royal Sword classmate being toured around, oh he wondered if they were gonna get jumped by the end of the day. That’d be hilarious. Walking back into Riddle’s room, he snickers at the uniform hanging up neatly from the canopy frame. Chenya had no issue with wearing the same clothes twice in two days, but Riddle surely did and Trey never seemed too fond of it either. The Heartslabyul uniform would also keep anyone from chasing him, didn’t want to be late for tea after all. That’d be quite rude.

He hummed under his breath, fiddling with the half-painted rose on his lapel, sending a wink at one RSA student who recognized him and stared at him bewildered. Walking to the center of the rose maze, whistling a jaunty tune, perking up to see Trey and Riddle waiting with tea and sweets, “I meow-de it!”

Riddle huffed, glaring at Chenya and slipping Trey a single Madol bill. Trey smiled toward him, “Hey, Chenya. Feeling better from this morning?”

“...What was that?”

Trey chuckles, slipping the Madol into his wallet while Riddle grumbles into his tea, “Just a little bet I made with Riddle.”

“Well, forgive me for thinking he’d be able to hold back a pun for 5 minutes…”

Chenya sits down, joining Trey in laughing at Riddle, “That was a bad bet, Queenie. I need to pun to stray alive.” He holds his cup up as Riddle gestures to pour the tea for him, “So, status repurrt lads.”

Riddle groans, making peace with the incoming puns yet to be spoken, “Everyone seems very excited with the new changes, I was even able to get Crowley to update and expand the hedgehog and flamingo enclosures. Not to mention with the construction we were able to shift around the maze for a little variety come the school year. We’ve even sectioned off a part farther in the maze to grow flowers other than roses.”

“Huh…that explains how I nearly got lost…” Chenya waved Riddle’s worried glance off, grabbing one of the ‘Eat Me’ cookies, “But you told me all that already. You and Cater have kept me very up to date on everything going on since I wasn’t allowed to visit.”

Trey hummed, “In our defense. We were afraid you would get hit during construction trying to sneak in. Also, you and Cater talk?”

“Cater talks to everyone it seems.” Riddle mumbles, looking to the side with what Chenya could only call a pout.

“True…”

Chenya lets out a groan that slides into a yowl, “Come on! I wanna spill tea, not re-mew stuff you guys told me already.”

“Penelope had her litter. We haven’t told you that yet have we?”

“That’s not- wait, really?” Chenya was instantly invested, Penelope was one of his favorite hedgehogs. She was a delightful shade of plum and knew how to roll in a perfect spiral, “Please tell me one was purple.”

“Yep.” Trey cut at the strawberry tart, making sure Riddle was given the first piece as he preferred, “And her name is Mewple.”

Chenya squeals, drumming his hands against the table in excitement, “Please! Please, I gotta see the baby girl before I go!”

“Of course, Chenya. No need to yell, Riddle already named you godfather-”

“Don’t phrase it like that!”

“Aw~. Riddles~!”

Riddle glares at the beastman, cheeks flushing in a mixture of rage and embarrassment, “It’s merely the fact Crowley has given me permission to take a number of the hedgehogs when I graduate. It only makes sense I would bring my favorites…”

“You have favorites?” Trey questions, smiling teasingly at Riddle.

“...No.”

After a brief laugh session, Chenya leaned his upper body onto the table, ignoring Riddle huffing at him ‘breaking the rules’, ”But anyway, tea. How’s your boyfriend Riddle?”

“Floyd is not my boyfriend!”

“He didn’t say his name, Riddle.”

“Shush.”

Chechnya smiles, sipping at his tea, “Well, that answers cat. But I want mews! I want dirt! Tell me something I don’t know~.”

Riddle sighed, shaking his head while Trey thought to himself.

“Well, Riddle and Yuu almost got into another fistfight over tea…”

“I have never engaged in fisticuffs with that child and you know it, Trey. Plus that isn’t at all what happened.”

“Wait, why? Aren’t you two friends meow? I know she doesn’t like tea but you two spent like a whole week trying flavors out with Kalim, didn’t you?”

Trey snickers, “So about that, it happened after that week and during an unbirthday party…”

The garden had unsurprisingly been the first part of Heartslabyul that was fixed. It acted as a safe haven for the students during more construction noise and allowed them to have their unbirthday parties. At the main table, Yuu sat with the core Heartslabyul crew, quietly stirring their tea as the others chatted and Grim walked the table for treats and banter.

Deuce noticed their quiet nature, asking them if they were okay with a slight nudge under the table.

“...You know…I never really noticed that you make tea with hot water for a reason.”

…

Cater closes his eyes, putting his phone down and reaching over to put his hand over Yuu’s. He took a shuttering breath, as though to gather strength, “Yuu-Chan, sweetie…Have you been making tea with cold water?”

“Yeah? I always thought tea was made hot because it just made the water tea-ify faster.” She sips at the tea, making a face before adding another sugar cube to what could only be hot syrup at this point, “Didn’t think it was the proper process or something…”

Ace leans onto the table, staring at Yuu with a pinched face, “What, are you too impatient to microwave some water for three minutes?”

Yuu opened their mouth to remind him that they didn’t drink tea until it was their only option to drink. Instead, Trey put down his own cup of tea with a muted ‘Clack’, resting the bottom of his face in his clasped hands. The 3rd year looking at Ace with a level of intensity that made the 1st year sit back in his seat nervously.

Trey moved his hands to speak, just so he was heard clearly, “Ace…Why are you putting water in the microwave to boil it…for tea?”

Deuce holds up his hand, frowning with his eyebrows creased, “Clover-Senpai, I don’t think Ace has the patience to boil water on a stove.”

“Deuce-Chan. Water takes less than a minute to boil on a stove.” Cater turned away from Yuu, looking at his underclassmen, an expression of stunned surprise on his face.

Ace scoffs, “Is your stove the sun? How does it take less than a minute?”

Trey pulled his face from his hands, tilting his head to question Ace, “How long do you think water takes to boil?”

“Like Seven minutes!?”

“Look,” Deuce’s fist bangs on the table, drawing everyone’s attention before he addressed Ace, “Just put the mug on the stove on medium heat and it takes like two minutes to boil-”

“You’re putting the whole mug on the stove?”

“I mean sometimes I use a saucepan to do it…?”

Cater was struggling to hold in his laughter, face to the sky as he willed his tears to not ruin his newly gifted sponsored eyeshadow.

Trey looked at the two underclassmen, a hand over his mouth before he whispered under his breath, “How have you two survived this long?”

Cater wheezed, smacking a hand against Trey’s shoulder, “By the Seven, this is gold. I should have been recording…”

Riddle speaks, eyes wide in bewilderment at what he could only call the most frustrating conversation, “Do either of you know what a damn kettle is?”

Yuu sat back, a hand over their mouth to hide their smile as the table descended into madness.

Chechnya giggled, his own wide smile just barely hidden behind his cup, “Oh~. You’ve got your hands full with a bunch of uneducated kits, huh, Riddle?”

“I had to teach both of them how to use a proper kettle…”

“I mean in their defense, they had really good reasons why they never learned to use one…” Trey sighs.

“Mew?”

“Apparently, Ace put a teapot that was supposed to be for serving only on the stove to boil water and it exploded. Deuce’s mom forbade him from using a kettle when he was young because he managed to completely take apart their electric one…Guess he thought she meant every type of kettle.”

Riddle shakes his head, “Deuce still nearly broke our electric one by turning the dial too far.”

Trey laughs under his breath, “Well, at least they know how to make a proper cup now.”

“Ok, but why did mew and Yuu almost fight Riddle?”

“While Cater and I were trying to explain proper tea protocol to Ace and Deuce, Yuu apparently whispered to Riddle ‘This wouldn’t be an issue with coffee’.”

“They don’t even like coffee either! They just hate that I scold them for drowning their tea in cream and sugar!”

“Well, people can like their tea-”

“A simple lemon tea doesn’t need 6 lumps of sugar!”

A moment of silence passed over the table, Trey sighing and leaning back in his chair when Chenya started to snicker again.

“He’s got you there Trey~. Man, what I would give to have simple problems like you guys.”

“In what way-”

Riddle perks up, “Oh. That’s right,” His expression sombers, looking over to Chenya, “You said Neige came back and was acting strangely, more so than usual? Do you know why or would you rather not talk about him?”

“Oh by the SEVENS. I need to talk about this kid, I keep thinking I’m hallucinating half the stuff he does if I didn’t tell you guys about it.”

“So, he came back to your dorm room. What was the scenario?”

“So get this…”

Neige had been gone all day. That wasn’t anything weird or new to Chenya, Neige was usually gone for whole weekends doing model and actor business. This means Chenya either had the whole dorm suite to himself for a few blissful days. Or, Neige had lied and was going to stalk Vil Schoenheit and Chenya had to babysit the dwarves. True, they were capable of tending to themselves and even making meals unsupervised. The problem was most of them were painfully curious and just too short to be left alone.

And Chenya really didn’t mind looking out for them. It mainly was just grabbing things off high shelves so they didn’t climb each other and risk falling. Maybe having to give a few vocab definitions from their textbooks. But all in all, very cushy babysitting gig, since Neige both paid for the service and hush money.

But when 11 pm rolled around and Neige still wasn’t back, all of them were worried. The dwarves increasingly so. Chenya did his best but he was one cat-trophizing thought away from calling the police himself. Sure, Neige was some flavor of an obsessive stalker who could possibly pose a danger to the object of his affection. But what super fan wasn’t? It didn’t mean he wanted the guy to be in a ditch somewhere.

But, their metaphorical prayers were answered a little after 11 pm when Neige stumbled into the dorm room. His pink wig was nothing but a frizzy mess in his hands, his other arm braced against the closed door as he panted. He was coated in dirt, or what Chenya had hoped was dirt, clothing covered in various sweat marks and rips.

“By the seven Neige! Did you get hunted by a wild animal!?” Chenya rushed over, helping Neige to walk to his bed once he saw his roommate start to stumble, “Me-ouch…You’re a mess bud…”

Neige was panting, even when resting on the bed, managing to spare a shaky smile to calm the dwarves. He finally caught his breath, eyes slowly sliding into a thousand-yard stare, “I wish it was a wild animal…A wild animal would give up at some point. He chased me through the whole forest I think…”

Chenya looked over his shoulder, walking to the ensuite to grab their school-issued first aid kit, “Who?”

Brown eyes stared into the air, his breathing still lightly labored, “Green eyes…I can never look at green eyes ever again…”

Ok, he wasn’t going to unpack that. Kneeling on the bed, he looked over the kit. Once satisfied with the contents, he nodded and nudged Neige up from the mattress, “Go shower off all that…what I hope is mud. You reek and I gotta disinfect those cuts.”

Neige comes out from the bathroom 10 minutes later, sheepishly toweling his wet hair. He sat still, letting Chenya dab the rubbing alcohol against the open cuts. One being a long thin slice right along his cheek, as though Neige had just barely dodged something sharp at top speeds. Soon Neige was cleaned and medically tended to, his roommate was even nice enough to place cream on his skin so that it wouldn’t scar.

But, now that he was healed, Chenya and the dwarves all sat in front of him. Each of them glaring with folded arms, even Hop had a fierce frown on his face.

With a shaky laugh, Neige tilted his head, “I should explain huh?”

“You broke into Night Raven to see Vil.” Chenya wasn’t even going to beat around the bush, Neige came in looking like roadkill. His roomie was clearly out doing something to bring one of the Night Raven student’s ire. But even when Chenya was caught, he wasn’t roughed up nearly as much as Neige was. Maybe a ripped shirt, possibly a sprained ankle. Not whatever death match Neige got into with the forest floor.

“W-well, you do it all the time! And Vi is a good friend of mine, it shouldn’t be an issue to go visit him…”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be if you weren’t stalking him.” He ignores Neige shaking his head, trying to make him stop talking about his ‘activities’ in from of the dwarves. Chenya sighs, “I go there expecting to be hunted down and I can handle that. You want there like you were going on a date and come back looking like you got mauled.”

“Wish I was just mauled…”

Chenya would let Neige pass with that muttered comment. He really didn’t want to get involved in his weird going-ons, “Look, I was fine with all the time you’d take in the bathroom. But, I think you need to put the cat back in the bag and hang it up. This… ‘friendship’ you have with Vil is clearly gonna get you killed…”

Neige looked distressed, opening his mouth to plead with Chenya to not get anyone involved. Instead, the dwarves all jumped up, shouting their own disagreement about ending the relationship.

Doc stood on his chair, trying to meet Chenya in the eyes, “No! Vi and Neige need to keep being friends! How else will they be able to work toward their happily ever after!?”

“Neige has worked so hard to be where he is so he can stand by Vil’s side! To tear them apart is too cruel!” Hop wailed, holding up a nearly asleep Shelpie who could only tearily mutter ‘No, no, no’.

Chenya stood baffled as the Dwarves all gave their objections and then moved to crowd around Neige, shouting their support for Neige’s happily ever after. Stating how they always knew of Neige’s overzealous attempts to get closer to Vil, how they did their best whenever on set with him to make shoots longer by sabotaging equipment or erasing photos. How sweet they found Neige’s candle-lit altar with photos of Vil hidden under the floorboards, the one with an empty water bottle Vil had given him years ago on a movie set.

Tears of joy welled in Neige’s eyes. He dropped to his knees, bringing the dwarves into his arms and hugging them all tight, “Thank you guys so much! I never knew you supported me so much! Okay, no more secrets then, we’re gonna be a team and work together to get Vi’s love!”

The room was soon filled with multiple voices, plans of romantic outings and opportunities to ‘meet the family’. Chenya simply shook his head and walked to the door once Neige pulled out his phone to show off all the pictures he took in his infiltration, “Yeah, I’m leaving, don’t wait up.”

“Good night, Chenya! Thank you for hanging out with them!”

“What. Ever.”

“Well, to answer your question, it was Rook. Whatever happened to Neige was most likely Rook.” Trey laughs under his breath, pouring more tea for Riddle, “Even if he does like Neige, Rook is like an over-excited dog sometimes…And he’s robust enough to be a threat even when he’s placid.”

“I don’t understand how Vil hasn’t noticed he’s being stalked so heavily. One would think being near Rook so often he would be able to pinpoint anyone following him.”

Chenya groans, “I think that may be the reason he doesn’t notice Neige’s creepiness. I’ve only met that Rook guy once and he creeps Me-owt.” He sighs, leaning his chair on its back two legs, “I think being around something just makes you used to it. Like us and weird people.”

Trey laughed again, “I’m worse off then. I’ve been used to you guys since we were kids.” he blinked at the silence, looking at Chenya and Riddle. Both of them stared with blank faces, as though they were waiting for a punchline, “...Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Trey, how do I purr this…” Chenya folded his hands, resting his chin on them as he loudly hummed, showing he was thinking. He snapped his fingers, shooting double-finger guns at Trey, “You’re insanely weird, my friend.”

“I…I’m not the weird one!”

“Trey, you like teeth.”

“He’s right. Liking teeth is paw-sitively the weirdest thing, Trey.”

“Caring about my oral hygiene does not make me weirder than you two! What about Riddle’s need for rules? Chenya’s general thirst and need for chaos and discord?”

“I’m Traumatized. I get a pass to have an obsession.”

Chenya shakes his head, placing a hand over Riddle’s, “That’s not how that works, but I’m glad you’re admitting it.” He turns to Trey, his smile widening to his regular teasing expression, “And I don’t care for discord. Chaos sure, but I’m not the kinda cat whose vocation is disharmony.”

Rolling his eyes, Trey huffs, adjusting his glasses. He turned his head away, trying to hide his embarrassed flush, “There’s nothing wrong with caring about my dental health…”

Chenya snickered, leaning closer to Riddle to whisper in his ear, “Does he still use like four different brushes to clean his teeth?”

Riddle nods, whispering from behind his teacup. Grey eyes glancing at Trey as though to judge him, “He’s recently gotten acquainted with one of my equestrian club members. His father’s a dentist.”

“No!” Chenya gasped, holding a hand over his smile in a scandalized gesture.

“Indeed. It’s only a matter of time before Trey acquires a professional dentistry kit.”

“For your information, I already have one.” Trey pointedly ignored the hybrid guffaw and snort Chenya lets out, “And also, I am not the weird one. Of all I have to deal with in this dorm and with you two during summer? I’m the only sane one left.”

Rolling his eyes, Riddle turned toward Trey, “Oh, it can’t be that bad…”

“Oh really. Let me tell you then…”

Trey should have never let Yuu teach the Adeuce duo ‘Pig Latin’. Whatever ancient tongue the two were arguing was lost on most of the dorm. Riddle was somehow able to understand it perfectly, but the house warden wasn’t around to translate for him and Cater.

Leaning against the island, Cater scrolled through his phone. He whistled a low note when the shouting in the next room started to grow in volume, “Should we intervene? They’re getting pretty heated in there.”

Shaking his head Trey keeps kneading his dough, a relaxed smile on his face “Naw. Riddle says they use it to debate homework answers. Since someone teased them mercilessly about one wrong answer, now they do it in code.”

Cater looks away, only having the grace to look slightly bashful as he posed for a selfie, “I said sorry…”

Their chat continued, topics of their own homework or school news filling the kitchen. Cater was recounting a story of something that happened in the Light Music Club. The redhead barely containing his laughter, scrolling through his phone for the video he took before he was interrupted by a bellowing yell from who they could hear was Ace.

“OURYAY OM’SMAY AYAY ILFMAY!”

The silence that followed was almost lethal. Trey and Cater stood stunned, looking at each other in surprise, only to hear footsteps stomping toward them. Soon Deuce entered the kitchen, face red in fury as he grabbed a knife from the block and stormed out of the room.

Only when he was gone did Trey and Cater jump into action, fully realizing what the first year had planned, “Deuce, don’t do it!”

“Your mom is gonna be so disappointed if you kill someone, Deuce-Chan!”

“What…are you doing?” Trey looked at the scene in front of him. He tried not to glare, his face instead showing just how tired he was. His hands gripped the serving platter harder as his nerves started to rise.

Cater was suspended over the railing at the top of The Heartslabyul staircase, nearly tiled over as Ace and Deuce held onto the 3rd year’s legs. He had the nerve to smile and wave over his shoulder, “Hey Trey-Kun~ I’m trying this new photo trend. You take aerial pics from the tops of staircases. They looked so cool and our dorm has the most funky staircase of all! I’m gonna get mad likes. #TopPics #SoCool #WatchYourStep #LOL.”

“Don’t worry Clover-Senpai! We’ve got Diamond-Senpai in safe hands!” Deuce smiled, arms locked tightly over one of Cater’s legs. Ace sniffled from Cater’s other leg, trying to rub his nose onto his shoulder.

“...Okay…” Trey looked away, sighing and turning around to continue to Riddle’s room, “Just make sure you guys are safe.” A smile slowly grows on his face hearing Deuce start to ramble out promises to be responsible.

“You can trust us Clover-Senpai! Ace and me-”

ACHOO

Cater’s fading yell makes Trey drop his serving platter, ruining the tart and glassware, rushing back to the stairwell. He nearly went over the railing as well. Slamming into the metal banister, Trey looked down with wide eyes. He finally relaxed, seeing Cater on the ground floor on top of a few other 3rd years. The poor upperclassmen groaning under the impact Cater surprised them with.

The diamond redhead moaned but gave a shaky thumbs up, his phone still clutched in his hands, “I’m okay…!” His smile faded from his face as he fully slumped over, glaring at the pictures he managed to snap in his panic on the fall, “#IBetterGet100KHitsForThisShit…”

Trey looked to his side, eyes stopping at Ace wiping at his nose with his finger. The hearts redhead sniffled, looking away from Trey and Deuce’s glares, “I didn’t do it on purpose…”

The first thing Trey realized was that it was 2 am. He blinks, trying to take in his blurry surroundings. Trey put his glasses on his face, reaching blindly over to his side table and grabbing his ringing phone. Bleary eyes squinting at the contact reading ‘Jade’ before he answered the call, “Jade? It’s…very late what is this about?”

“So sorry to bother you Trey, but it’s most important that you make your way to Octavinelle. Post haste if you will.”

“...Why?”

Jade chuckled, Trey could visualize the EelMer holding his hand over his mouth, hiding his teeth, “Well, it seems we’ve acquired something of yours and Azul would like it gone before he loses any more sleep.”

“...What?”

He could hear Floyd cackling loudly in the background, being able to make out him yelling, “Come here, Goldfishie~! I wanna give you a squeeze and a kiss!”

“Get away from me, Floyd!”

“...” Trey sighed deeply, sitting up in bed and looking around for his shoes and jacket, “Why is Riddle in Octavinelle?”

“Let me check.” Jade moves away from the phone to yell after Riddle, “Riddle-San? Why are you here again?”

“Rule 124! The sink in my bathroom broke- Go away Floyd- and the faucet soaked me- DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!”

“That’s why.”

Trey could hear the smile in Jade’s voice. He closes his eyes, tilting his head back and bites back his groan, “I’m on my way. Please don’t let Floyd frisk Riddle again.”

“Well, let me go stop him then. You might want to go check on that faucet Riddle was talking about, though.” Jade hangs up, the sounds of Floyd laughing and Riddle screaming in the background clicking off instantly.

Trey sat in his seat glaring at his friends. Riddle and Chenya finding their cups of tea much more interesting. Riddle looked mildly sheepish, Chenya looked ready to burst into laughter. Though the cat beastman knew if he did he wasn’t going to be welcomed in Heartslabyul for quite some time. So he bit into his fist, taking care to not press too hard and break the skin.

“I live every day in terror from the lovable menaces I’m forced to room with. If I’m odd it’s me trying to cope with the madness around me.” Trey frowned, grabbing his own slice of lemon curd and lavender tart he had been experimenting with.

Riddle sighed. Managing to meet Trey’s eyes he nodded his head in apology, “Condolences, Trey. I also feel…overwhelmed at times with our current batch. I didn’t stop to think about how your duties plus looking after everyone was affecting you…And I was no help, yet again…” His expression fell more into sadness as he realized he wasn’t easing Trey’s predicaments as he had tried to do.

Chenya reached over, pinching the fat of Ridle’s cheek and pulling. He ignored his friend’s scolding, face turning his impressive shade of red.

“No more of that~. It’s not purr fault, your mom kinda kept you from learning empathy for your peers. We’re just glad you still turned out to be such a nice kitten!”

“...” Riddle sighed, face going back to its pale shade before he spoke in a slightly slurred tone, “Thank you, Chenya…”

“Plus~. Trey, you should rely on me more too, you know? I’m here a lot in the afternoons most days, I can help around where no one can see me. You guys just try to have a cozy repeat year~.”

Smiling, Trey shakes his head. It was a sweet sentiment. But Chenya was a 3rd year, he needed to focus on his grades and finalizing his internship, “Thanks for the offer Chenya. But, I’ve told you, 3rd years need to work on preparing for their internships. You should do the same. I and most of the other NRC 3rd years got lucky and whoever had a placements got their time extended.”

Chenya tilted his head, “I’m still a 2nd year, though?”

…

Riddle put his teacup onto the saucer, nearly breaking it from the force, eyes wide at the information, “What? How? What class did you fail?” All those hours studying and getting texts full of mind-numbing emojis about aced tests, were those all lies!?

“Nah. I just chose to repeat 2nd year after hearing you had to. I did promise we were going to do our internship together after all.”

“...” Riddle felt his face flush again, only this time in embarrassment—the promise from before their first year. Chenya had managed to meet Riddle in secret. The cat beastman told him all about his tour of Royal Sword, saddened by the fact Riddle had been accepted to Night Raven. But he did promise to make sure they were able to hang out at their internships, “You can’t just…decide to repeat a year for me…”

Chenya smiles, waving his hand and sharing a smile with Trey, “Eh~. Me and Trey had a whole plan for when we graduated. Trey would get the groundwork for a place for us and I take over his ‘Riddle Rangling’ job. The plan doesn’t work if we’re both away from you, goes against the whole thing!”

“I- plan? What plan!?”

Trey leaned on the table, his knuckles gently knocking on the side of Riddle’s head to call his attention, “You’re our friend. We’re gonna want to make sure you don’t have to go back with your mom. We’d at least offer you the choice.”

“...Trey…Chenya…”

Chenya tilted onto the back legs of his chair, smiling at himself with his eyes closed, “In my opinion. Our first plan of just burning your house down with your mom inside was way easier.”

“Chenya.”

Riddle huffed out a laugh, keeping silent as Trey and Chenya bickered about the mortality of ‘Justified Arson’. His friends were odd, he was odd. He took a sip of his tea, the faint taste of honey mixed with lemon pleasant on his tongue.

Trey smiled to himself, letting Chenya continue on about his reasonings. It hurt at times, seeing the way they were now. Happy and together sharing treats, laughing and at peace with simple conversation. Just like that day nearly ten years ago. A part of him always wondered what they’d be like if that day was never ruined. If they were all just left to be friends. But such a day didn’t exist, and his signature spell wasn’t going to ever change the bitter taste it left in his mouth.

But, they had today and plenty of tomorrows to be friends, and that made it all okay.

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts #twst wonderland #chenya #twst chenya #twst trey #trey clover #riddle x floyd #heartslabyul

109 notes · View notes