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14thgalerie · 8 months

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tell me why

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: dangerous by madison beer

• word count: 3.3k

• genre: angst, fluff (barely)

— based on this request, i hope you like this one even though i'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind huhu. i tried to find a way to go about this prompt that isn't all cliche and was written before.

Projects given over the holiday: written and set aside in a matter of six hours.

Every crevice and corner of his room is now spotless.

A game of quidditch with Lorenzo with his siblings.

And that’s the entire list. He has finally run out of things to do, yet the sun remains shining brightly outside. What was supposed to be an uneventful day had turned out to be quite a hectic one. An accidental glance at the desk that sits below the tall windows ruined the extraneous effort he had gone to in order to forget about a certain envelope or rather someone.

An entire day has already passed since his owl dropped by to hand him a single envelope. After taking a glance at the sender, he couldn’t bring himself to open it right at that instance.

In all honesty, he has absolutely no idea as to why he is avoiding opening it; well maybe he does know, and maybe it’s the reason for the dread that kept stirring at the pit of his stomach. The last time he heard from you was at the Hogwarts Express before you completely cut off contact with him.

It’s been an entire week now since the holiday break started, the same amount of time since he received a word from you, something that has never occurred. Your fights had never lasted for longer than necessary— a day would be the worst of it because he despises it whenever people make matters worse for themselves by ignoring one another. But despite his great hatred for it, he doesn’t feel a single thing except for the urgency and desperation that you answer him.

So, he doesn’t understand why you suddenly shut away from him when everything has been going great. One moment you were all snuggled up to him in the compartment you shared with your friends and then not a single word from you from the hundreds of letters he must’ve sent by now.

The sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts.

“Hey Theo, I left some food for you here if you’re awake. Mom also set aside some medicine if you’re not feeling well, she’s worried for you.” He hears Lorenzo at the door trying to talk to him, unsure if he is even being heard by Theo.

Silence fills the room as Lorenzo leaves, thinking that he’s still asleep. Looking at the yellow ribbon that wraps around the envelope, he reaches out and takes hold of it for the first time since he last dropped it.

Pulling the band with a sense of uneasiness, he sees that it doesn’t have anything special on it, just your name at the front and numbers at the upper left corner. Pulling out the paper— wondering if the little doodles that always accompanied your letter for him would be there, but he is left frowning at the blank edges. Flipping it open, he laughs out loud at the naivety of believing it will be any good before he is choked by the lump that formed in his throat.

Let’s break up, Theo.

I’m a coward to do this over a letter, I know. I won’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I have been constantly depressed at the thought of doing this. In the weeks leading up to when I am writing this, I have been incessantly living vicariously through the memory of us.

I know it’s too much to ask after doing this to you, but please never talk to me again. Don’t ask. I won't be able to explain to you, not when I still don’t understand it and how I’m feeling.

Goodbye.

You wonder if he’ll ask. You wonder if you will ever tell him. How you will explain, how you might run away instead. It’ll be an answer enough to satiate the questions that barrage through the doors of your mind without warning.

Theo was lying in his bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to move when your body is deprived of sustenance; nor food or sleep is enough. So he lays there in the forced darkness from his drawn bed curtains, body more still and cold than a dead body 6 feet underground.

He couldn’t handle another day of hiding behind the old facade of indifference. At first, it was easy. He heeded your wish of keeping his distance even if every atom in his body begged to be near you. Saving the most painful, physical sobbing in his solitude. He was fine just seeing you be there; alive and breathing.

As the days lingered on, however, it wasn’t enough. Not when you have deprived him even of that one simple thing. Disappearing from every class you’re sharing only to find out you have requested to attend another class.

He didn’t have the energy to keep up with that charade anymore. Letting himself wither until he’s only a nutshell of the man you’ve built in the ruins of his past.

He had, in every sense but physical, become a ghost, drifting between the phases of the day without a sense of time. He relies on his day-to-day life by moving on autopilot.

He doesn’t know what he did, he begs to know because he cannot go on another day like this.

“Theodore Nott!”

His attention is called away when he hears a booming voice beside him followed by the bright light that showers over him as the curtain of his canopy is pulled open. Not a care if the man wasting away hours behind it will be mad at her.

Pansy only knew one thing: she would not have her best friend lose every prospect in his life because of both of your lack of communication. She couldn’t give a damn if you will ever manage to resolve your issues. For now, Theo is her priority and he needs to stand up and study.

She had already managed to fix you up enough to have you up and functioning, although a mere ghost on legs. But that will do, now for this man who is at the grunt of your problems.

“Stand up and go to the library.” She pulls the blanket which barely covers him, and throws it someplace. “You are going to fail your NEWTS at this rate.”

“Who cares?” He drawls out. Turning to his side to cower beneath his pillows.

“Your future does.” Knowing that he will never stand at his own will, she gathers every bit of strength in her to pull him by his arms.

“Gods, Pans. Can you just bugger off and leave me alone?”

He tries to wave her off and turns to slide beneath the welcoming arms of his bed. But before his face plants onto the soft, strewn fabric, he is pushed and pushed until they are greeted by the long, grimy corridor outside their common room. His bag full of books was thrown out the door after him. With his lack of energy, all he can do is follow her demand.

Hoping that this will distract him.

Theo trudged towards the library, dragging his feet behind him. Maybe the tranquil ambiance could be a soothing balm for his aching heart. Make him finally focus on other things in his life, knowing that whatever reason you may have, you would never wish that he put his studies on hold.

Theo chose a table tucked away in a quiet corner, where he could fully immerse himself in his books and thoughts. The flickering candle lights atop the wooden tables, weathered by the countless students that passed through Hogwarts, had added a comforting touch to his isolation. Casting dancing shadows on the polished surfaces.

This worked for about an hour and a half until he realised he had forgotten his advanced Potions book in his other bag.

Surrounded by towering bookshelves, Theo began searching for a copy of the book he’s missing and some other texts that might be helpful for his NEWTS classes. As he reached a particular shelf that contained the very books he was looking for, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of a conversation, the hushed tones barely above a whisper.

“-Theodore?”

He decided to walk away, thinking the conversation private, when his attention was caught by the mention of his name. He wasn’t able to catch the question but he was intrigued.

With a furrowed brow, he furtively strained over the tiny slot in the shelf he pulled a book from to see two familiar faces opposite him, unaware of the person with wide eyes that locked in on one person.

As if on instinct, he dwindles at the sight of you, like a cord being pulled out of its socket, his body going back on autopilot.

He almost slapped himself in the forehead for not recognizing your voice sooner, but he wonders. Why had you appeared so sullen and gaunt? Would it have to do with him since you mentioned him? He leans back on the shelves awaiting to hear more, wondering why you were supposedly that way when you have been acting like nothing had happened between the two of you.

“We’re not together anymore, Luna.” You say in a dejected voice. Seeing it written on paper hurt, but nothing could compare to the anguish that invaded him at hearing it from you, feeling hopeless to the constant sharp pain on his chest that wrenched deeper into the wound.

“Is that why he’s been staying by the Ford Bog recently?” Luna unassumingly asks, curious.

“What?”

“When I come by to feed the Thestrals, he is always there talking to them.” He hears Luna explain. He hadn’t known that Luna had been coming over to see them also. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers that, like him, she had also witnessed her mother’s death.

“Oh.” You must be thinking about what he confessed to you when you found him in a similar situation back in the fourth year.

“You miss him.” From the manner that Luna says it, it was less of a speculation and more of a fact. “I do.” You confess.

This makes him confused. His brows knit together as he tries his best to piece together the words that slipped from you in a way he understands. You had been the one to break off your relationship suddenly, without a word of explanation. But now you sit there, admitting you miss him after you ask him to keep his distance. He is tempted to turn the corner and ask you.

“But you constantly run away from him?” Luna asks for him instead. She follows it up with another question. “You broke up with him, right?”

There was a pregnant pause before he heard your voice again.

“Yes, I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared that he would do it sooner or later and I didn’t want to experience the pain of hearing it from him first-hand. So then, I decided that I would do the job for him.” You explain.

He is left stumbling back at the accusation, knowing within himself that it would be the last thing he would do in a million years. Ever, actually. What spurred this idea from you? He finds it incredibly insulting that you would think he would.

Luna asks why you think he’ll do that.

You say after a moment’s pause, “He’s been hanging out with this new friend of his before the holidays, and at first I didn’t care because I trusted him. But she just-” Your breath hitches, “She began to be more flirty and provocative with him and he didn’t even blink an eye.”

You take in a sharp breath. “I know he would never do it, and he probably didn’t even notice but I don’t know…”

His subconscious blocked out any of what followed after that horrid confession. Memories came in sudden assaults on his brain and senses. He doesn’t like how uncertain you sounded: he doesn’t know why you would think twice of his actions.

Truth be told, he did indeed notice the weird affectionate manner in Scarlet’s approach to him. Frankly, he didn’t care and settled to ignore her in order to avoid conflict as she was a friend of Mattheo. Putting her in the back of his mind and that would be the end of it.

He always knew that you had this fear that he would leave you for another, this is provoked more by his terrible past with women before you. But he never thought it would be a problem for your relationship as he constantly did his best to remind you that it was either you or nothing at all.

Though he couldn’t exactly blame you, even now as he sinks into the cold stone ground, he was stupid to think that ignoring Scarlet would suffice.

Sitting on the cold, hard floors with his head in between his hands, digits tightly clutching his hair. He doesn’t hear Luna excusing herself from your session, leaving you to clean up to prepare to leave. Stuck in the confusing labyrinth that his mind wandered off to, he didn’t notice the gentle footsteps near him, trying to avoid the librarian’s wrath.

“Theo?”

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still not a thing from him. You become concerned.

“Theodore? Are you alright?”

You find yourself forgetting the very promise that you had even asked Theo to uphold— to never approach you. But despite your stern resolve, the sight of Theo sitting in the library corner, his distress palpable, throws it all out. Instead, the nagging fear that if you're the source of his evident turmoil.

“Theo.” You crouch down in front of him, keeping your hands nestled to your lap.

He didn’t even lift his head— you weren’t sure if he was not acknowledging you or that he simply didn’t notice you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it. Your feet are itching to run.

“I’m sorry.” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he was not in good condition. You’re confused as to why he’s being like this.

But somewhat you knew. Your heart pounds relentlessly against your chest. You knew what he was going to say.

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. Eyes plastered intently on the creaking floorboards. “Scarlet.”

When he speaks it into existence, you dislike the way you flinch, the familiar bitterness spreading throughout your body. Your heart drops into the pits of your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes were becoming blurred by the veil of his tears, bearing a weight that seemed almost unbearable. “Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N.”

The lump in your throat threatened to suffocate you, leaving you on the brink of despair unable to respond properly.

“It’s my fault. I never know when something upsets you. I hardly know you better than how I’m supposed to.” He says it like he means it. Theo says it to himself more than he says it to you.

The world slows down to an adagio, and you’re caught up in the emotion that washes over you at his condition. Theo is rarely dishevelled; he’s hardly all over the place. If anything, he has always been quite proper, the opposite of the man in front of you.

You say his name softly, your gut tightening at the heart-breaking sight in front of you. Hesitating to reach out and hold him close to you. So you reach out to wipe away the lone tear that slides down his face.

“Merlin…I should be the one saying sorry.”

“What?” He finally pulls him together enough to reply to you coherently.

“It’s not you. You’re not the problem.” Your subconscious running at a millimetre per second to come up with the right words to amend his words. Finding this a bit harder than you expected. “I am so broken that my body is just encased in this eternal itch to run.”

“When I saw how you were so unconcerned about Scarlet’s obvious attempts, I panicked. I let that fear get the best of me, letting it poison my mind. I was afraid that one day you’d begin to reciprocate her attraction. Maybe you would have been happier with her. I was terrified of losing you, and when the holidays came, I grabbed the chance to cower back and let it consume me. I didn’t wanna hear you confirm that hellish thought.”

“What changed?” He croaks out. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

“A big part of it comes from my conversations with Mum. I kind of forgot that she never really sides with me when it comes to my irrational decisions and she’s always been the one to make me realise it.” You feel the urge to laugh at the thought, but you restrain yourself.

“And by heaven’s will, I want you to be happy but the need to be your happiness far outweighs that.”

But he does nothing but remain seated silently, nothing in him revealing that he plans to move. And you are terrified, for once you had no idea what was going on inside his head but you know that you had to let him think on his own. To stop assuming and making decisions off of it.

“You, you are a great deal of a headache to me. I have spent days questioning myself; was I so horrible that I couldn't even be granted the decency to be broken up to my face." cried Theo.

“No you weren’t, Theo. I promise you.”

“I know I’m not. Yet, you still made me feel like it. I was happy with you, you were my lone happiness. I think it’ll be awhile before I forget this, despite what you confess.” He says, his voice choking up now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady.

“Is that true, Theo?”

“But as upset and tired I am, I still love you.” He acquiesced. “It’s laughingly pathetic how I am still entirely yours.”

He stopped short, his hands that rested on his lap emerging to take yours in its grasp. Their grip is a perfect balance of a strong hold and a gentleness.

“And I love you too, I don’t think I ever stopped. I promise you that I’ll work on myself, make things right between us again, because I don’t think I can go on for another day like this.” You said, sworn with a conviction so strong.

He shook his head and to that you feel the disgusting worm that whispers to you appear, “No. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” But it’s crushed under his pretty foot.

“I promised you then that I wouldn’t leave you to face whatever problems you have on your own. When I confessed to you ’I love you’, it meant that I would continuously be by your side to help you with your troubles. Our troubles.” He reminds you. “We’ll fix this together from now on…nobody is doing things solo.”

He tugs on your arms, telling you wordlessly to sit beside him. When you do, by habit and longing, your head moves to rest on the juncture of his neck inhaling the scent you missed most.

Nothing felt better than to have the urge to have your head resting on him be satisfied, he wanted nothing more than to feel something as mundane as this.

As he leaned his head on her temple, you felt giddy, feeling yourself turn tomato red at the action. It was a happy time, in spite of the things that remained to be talked about, so happy that you couldn’t dare to disturb it with anything.

“Y/N…” He breaks the silence.

You hum.

“Did you ever dream about me?”

“I thought about you.”

Only a soft squeeze to your hand serves as a reply.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

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enbyobeyme · 1 year

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MC Becomes A Child But Angst

Prompt: Mc becomes a child again, but they did not have a good childhood to begin with...

AN: This is also an old work of mine that I'm reposting before I delete my old blog, may be a bit dated. I may rewrite this. Takes place in OG game

TWs: Mentions of Child Abuse, Scars, ect. GN per usual. Cringe writing

Vague Edgy Intro For Background.

You remember it since you were young. The live vivisections performed on you, the practice of fusing angels and demons to create your “God”. You were sadly the perfect catalyst for their experiments.

You have seen horrors beyond comprehension, atrocities that show the worst side of man, the lowest point that mortals could hit. Cults were draining. Worship after worship, recruitment after recruitment, experiment after experiment. You had demon and angel prisoners that you befriended in the cult before they were dragged away and eventually killed or turned into some beast...

You grew sick of it- that’s why you ran. How you managed to fight off or completely avoid the Silent Hill-esque monsters but... You did. From that day on you hid any marks, stitches, scars, or tattoos on your body were hidden. You did everything to hide your past, getting rid of any tracker on you, even trying to drain yourself of any demon or angel blood they injected you with.

You weren’t going to be turned into any ‘God” any time soon. To think, that poor angel Lilith had her grave robbed for the blood that now runs through your veins… Despicable.

I can’t imagine how your MC felt to have been summoned by demons? There was at least some level of fear or anxiety, no? Either way, let’s skip past that. You don’t know how, but some type of spell has been cast onto you, turning you into a kid. The same fragile kid from all those years ago. It wasn’t as happy as the brothers hoped for.

Lucifer

Your eyes were dull as you sat in the corner, you didn’t look at anything but the floor like you were waiting for instructions. Your body shivered and you looked so broken. “MC? Are you okay?” No response, not even a glance at him. It was unnerving, to say the least.

He was by your side in an instant once he heard the news. The way you backed away from him warily though didn’t throw him off, at first, he was a stranger to you after all. It wasn’t until he got back to his office to work while looking after you.

You seemed to have something in your hands that you hid even more as he approached. You looked over at him miserably and started to shake more. You never talked much about any parents or any childhood memories- you often skipped over conversions where Asmodeus badgered you for pictures of your young self. Is this why?

His heart hurts a bit as he puts the pieces together. He notices your grip on whatever is in your hands, loosening, he leans in trying to see what it is. Lucifer is taken aback when you hold out a small rusted knife towards him, it was blunt and old, and shaking in your grip.

“P-Please, get away from me, You’re going to hurt me too! They’re going to hurt you!” Lucifer kneeled down showing his hands to you before offering one to you. “I’m not going to hurt you, please come with me…” You shook, eventually putting the blade away. Lucifer reached out slowly to cup your cheek.

You were soon on his lap as he worked. He noticed that you looked over at the stack of papers, grabbing the sheet he was finished with you added it to the right pile. “How do you know to do paperwork?” “I had to earn food by helping out with chores.” He frowned at that.

”Your parents made you work?” “I don’t think I have parents. The leaders said they made me. It all clicked at that moment. “You were- you are in a cult?” You nodded, going back to organizing papers. It was silent for a moment. “You’re a nice demon. I hope they don’t hurt you too.” “Oh? What do you mean?” “A lot of demons or angels that get summoned get hurt. Sometimes, they’re dissected, and I have to help.” Lucifer couldn’t help but hold you a bit tighter. He felt awful for what you were implying.

He tried to ask you directly about the cult, but all he got were soft ‘sorry I can’t tell you that, I’ll get hurt’s’ in response. Dinner soon came, you refused to go out to the table without panicking, and trying to pull away from Lucifer if he tried to walk you there, so he brought food to you. Your eyes lit up as if you couldn’t believe that you were allowed food, you wolfed it down before anyone can take it from you. Afterward, he was able to walk you to your room to rest. “Wait, Mr. Lucifer, before you go” Lucifer looked back as your small child self waddles up to him to hug him. “Thank you, I don’t want you to leave me alone again.” He offered to sleep with you, you nodded profusely.

In the morning, you were grown again. Lucifer asked if you remembered anything from your kid self. You were silent before nodding. “Don’t mention any of it, to anyone. I’ve already dealt with and accepted it.” Lucifer nodded. This will be your little secret.

Mammon

When he heard Solomon shout in surprise during your magic practice, he knew something was up because that bitch never made noise. When he entered the room he saw a small child pointing a blade at the sorcerer. “Where’s MC?! Are they okay?!” “That IS MC. They messed up the spell and got turned into a kid”

You backed up, pointing the blade in front of you, “H-how do you know me.” It came out more like a statement than a question. You overheard the white-haired man, ‘Solomon’ Excuse himself along the lines of ‘Oops, I have to be somewhere’ for some reason this felt familiar. And that is how you got stuck with Mammon.

It took him a bit to convince you to put down the boxcutter, and you only did because you can sense the dumbassery off this guy and you could read him like a book, it would be able to tell when he would want to hurt you. You hid the boxcutter.

Mammon seemed to be on the phone with someone named ‘Lucifer’ you kept your distance. You heard all kinds of stories about the Seven Deadly. For someone in the cult to be named after them, or for a poor demon that was summoned and called by the sin they were strongly associated with was someone important. Important people tended to be the cruelest.

Mammon didn’t know what to do with a kid. Kids like the outdoors, right? Maybe he can get you some icecream? He noticed immediately that you dragged behind even as he offered you ice cream. You were a strange kid for sure.

At the ice cream store you just looked down. “Don’t you want anything?” you shook your head, it’s a trick, a trap, no one would be this kind to you. Mammon could tell something was up, you seemed so scared and hollow, just looking down at the ground. Mammon put a hand on your shoulder, causing you to shrink away. Sometimes he would’ve done the same when he knows he pissed off Lucifer. Were you okay?

“Hey,” his voice was gentle, “it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you, come on, I got a coupon for a free ice cream anyway!” He didn’t but it might make you feel better. You felt like you had no choice, and zone out, when you zoned back in, there was an ice cream cone dripping onto your hand as you walked through the Devildom. A rare sweet treat that might be taken from you, you quickly lick it up, not knowing when an opportunity for food will present itself to you.

Mammon seemed nice, he talked to you and he even let you go up to an actual playground. You weren’t used to seeing a lot of kids together, especially so happy. It took a bit of Mammon coaxing you into trying to go down the slide. It was… fun. You asked Mammon to play with you.

After what seemed like an hour you both went home, for the first time in a while, you smiled. You were in Mammon’s room looking at all the shiny things in his room. “Thank you, Mammon,” you seemed to speak at a high level than other kids your age, Mammon noted, “I’m not really allowed to go outside.” Mammon frowned and asked, “Why not?” “The robed guys said people might see my marks and get me in trouble. And there was a big forest with all types of monsters.”

Robed guys, monsters? “Err, uhh. What kind of mark?” “Do you promise not to tell anyone?” “I promise.” You slowly pulled up a small part on the side of your shirt, exposing a long surgery scar going up your stomach, and a brand of sorts next to it. Mammon was taken aback. He pulled you close and examines you, on your chest were even more scars, some more brands it seemed like. You freaked out at him grabbing you and started kicking and crying. “Let me go! Let me go”

The box cutter from earlier came out of your pocket, into your hand, Mammon narrowly avoided it, catching your arm. “Woah woah woah! Chill, kid!” You dropped the box cutter and Mammon pulled you in for a hug. You were unfamiliar with it, but it felt nice.

You ended up falling asleep on Mammon. He wanted you to change back ASAP. There was a lot of things he wanted to ask you.

Leviathan

When you were transformed into a child, you just saw a white-haired man around a bunch of magic things and weird sigils. He looks like he was wearing a robe too, bad news. You looked around for something, anything that could help defend you, you usually always had a pocket knife on you and you felt in your pocket. Grabbing it, you knew it would a bad thing to fight, so you ran.

This house was big and had a lot of hiding spots, you ran up the stairs, knife in hand, sneaking around. Where was there to hide, you heard music from one place, chatting from the next, you saw an open door, peeking in, there appeared to be no one, it was definitely someone’s room though. Covered in strange aquariums and many odd… mini statues everywhere.

It was at least something to work with though, lots of things were in here. You closed and locked the door, barricading it with everything you could. There had to be something in here that’s useful, a key, a weapon, even some vents that may lead outside. Maybe the aquarium leads somewhere you can swim to. You began your search.

You opened every possible thing you can open, there had to be something, anything to help you, knocking over statue after statue, book after book. All you found were sewing needles and thread. You pocketed them, good for stitches. Soon you heard knocking at the door and some ramming into it. “What the hell?! Who locked my door. MAMMON YOU BETTER NOT BE IN THERE I’LL KILL YOU!”

Oh no. Oh no. No, nononono. You had a small pocket knife and NEEDLES. That wouldn’t be enough for a fight. Maybe you can hide in the pile of soft human-shaped pillows and sneak attack him? There was nowhere else to hide, you dived in. The door broke open, you held your breath and gazed at the intruder through the plushes. A demon. You know a demon when you see one. You hope he doesn’t recognize your smell. “Mammon! Where are you?! Ugh, you trashed my room! I KNOW you’re in here!”

You started to run out of breath, and let out the smallest exhale. A normal human could not have heard, but a demon could. “Found you.” Levi started to sift through the plushies. Now or never, the door was still open. You leaped out trying to make it towards the door. You were too slow, Levi leaped forward, shutting the door. You kicked at his ankle pointing your knife to him. “Leave me alone! Get away, demon! I’ll hurt you!” Your voice was raspy and you started to sob, swinging at Levi.

The commotion was heard by the other brothers, already informed about what happened by Solomon, the door opened, which squished you between the wall. Levi picked you up like an aggressive cat as you continued to kick and scream. “I-if you hurt me, the cult would never forgive you! They’ll hurt you too! Just put me down and I’ll leave you alone. Please!!!” You were handed to Satan, who actually understood how to console a child from his reading habits.

They were discussing something, you didn’t care. They were all outside Levi’s room. You couldn’t run anywhere but there. You bit Satan’s hand, making him drop you, as you book it back into the pile of plushies. Hidden once more, you can only hope they would leave alone. They did, kind of. Maybe they were waiting for you to come back out? It was hard to tell. You were hungry. Maybe there were some crunchy bugs in here- or maybe that tank had something in it. A goldfish. It was something.

Right as you came out of the plushie pile, Levi came back in. You ran back in and shook. “I don’t taste good! Leave me alone!!” Levi would have laughed if you didn’t sound so terrified and he couldn’t hear your stomach rumble. Levi crept in. This was his room after all. He searched around his shelves for something. “Hey, are you hungry, I have some Ruri-Chan crackers. Come on out.”

Nothing. They were sealed, sealed food was usually safe, you stuck out your hand, expecting him to toss it. You let out a noise of displeasure as he approached. He froze. Levi isn’t good with kids. He placed the pack down near the pile. He was too tired for this, he just wanted to play his Waifu games…

You grabbed the crackers pulling them into the pile and started to feast as Levi gamed. Levi hated the silence with you eating. Usually, you both would talk as you game, this felt wrong that he was ignoring you. Occasionally, as he played, he would talk to you. “This character kinda sucks, their DPS output is trash but they look so cute.”

After a while, you snuck out of the pile, slowly approaching him, and sitting next to him to watch the pretty colors on screen. Levi noticed and handed over a controller. “Want to play?” You hesitantly took it, as he told you what to do. You spent most night playing games until you passed out. In the morning, you didn’t mention anything from the day before. Shushing the demon if he mentioned anything.

Satan

He felt a spell fail. He knows that was never a good thing. He should check on you, you are always dragged into these things. He wasn’t expecting to see a mini-you having a standoff, boxcutter in hand with Solomon who’s clothing seemed to be ripped up from where you tried to protect yourself. You looked so serious.

“What the fuck is going on?” Solomon explained. Great, a de-aging spell. He would have to figure this out. Satan sighed and told Solomon to leave. You never talked about being a kid, sometimes excusing it when anything about it was brought up. As you saw the sorcerer leave and the demon try and calm you down, you pieced it together that he won’t hurt you. For now.

That’s how you ended up in his room surrounded by books. You backed up in the corner keeping your eyes on Satan as he tore up his bookshelves looking for something to reverse this. You watched from afar.

You decided to look around his stuff yourself. Lots of weird demon shit to start with. Most you recognized. You picked up an old tome with a seal that you’ve seen a million times, instinctually, you broke the seal and opened it. Usually, these tomes have something of importance in it. “Don’t touch that!” You dropped it immediately and cowered, expecting to be hit.

Satan froze seeing you cover your head, guilt rising. He noticed that the tome no longer had that damned seal he couldn’t break. How did you…? Satan rested a hand on your shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, MC, I was scared.” You didn’t seem convinced and just looked away.

Satan decided to change the subject. “How did you break the seal on this, hmm?” “I… I know that book.” “You know the book?” “Yeah, the leaders always put those seals on their tomes to protect what’s inside. Only other cultists can open it…” Satan took a glance inside, it mainly detailed a lot of illustrations and descriptions of demons, angels, captives… surgeries… ungodly experiments…

So you grew up in a cult? It must have been awful. Satan tries to change the subject for your sake, you must not want to talk about it. He lit a small, harmless flame in the shape of a small kitty and watched your eyes lit up. “Hey, want to help me out with some magic?” You nodded, shyly.

You were now in his lap, both drawing kittens and look at small photobooks of cats while he also read book after book, looking for some type of spell to reverse it. He glanced over to your drawings as they started to lean into darker territory. Drawings of cats turned into sacrifices of animals. The number 777 was drawn everywhere.

t was the same number as the mark on the back of your neck-wait. Mark on the back of your neck… He glanced at your neck, gently brushing your hair back to show the mark. 777. Huh… He looked back at the spellbook. Finally, a spell to reverse this shit.

A few minutes later, you were back. You and Satan stared at each other, no words were spoken as you went to go grab that damned book from the shelf. You sat next to Satan and skimmed through it, photo after photo, article after article. You see a good chunk of the book titled “The Experiment of Subject 777”

You tore out that chunk, ripping it up and throwing it in the fireplace, handing the rest of the book back to Satan. ”Burn it. Read it. I don’t care…”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus was thrown aback when Solomon called him, telling him what just happened. He zoned out at “Mc is now a baby!” and he was excited to see how cute you looked. He heard something along the lines of you’ll change back in a few hours.

Asmo didn’t care, he snagged you, cradled you, and carried you off into his room. He didn’t even realize the state you were in, afraid and once again covered in the old scars on your body from your childhood returned. He went off to his room putting you down and immediately going to the closet all while saying how much fun the two of you would have.

The smile dropped when he turned around and saw a poor broken child covered in scars of all kinds, surgery scars across the chest, what seemed like self-harm ones on your legs, and that doesn’t even mention the bruises. He remembered asking if you had any pictures from when you were a kid and how uncomfortable you seemed. He can recognize abuse easily.

“Oh, sweetie…” The demon invited you into his arms hugging you and rubbing your back. For some reason the kindness in his voice made you cry. You held onto him as he pats you back. “Come on sweetie, let it all out…”

After what seemed like forever, you had no more tears to cry. Asmodeus knew what could make you feel better. He started to get out some self-care stuff. Showed you facemasks, lip masks, lotions, creams.

He even got out some cucumbers to put over your eyes. You were completely spoiled. It was nice to actually be cared about. After a bit of coaxing, Asmodeus asked to see some of the scars on your body, there is a possibility that you could be injured.

Asmo felt sick. Surgery scars across your chest and stomach, brands across your back and collarbones. It was sickening how someone could do this to a child. Asmo has connections. He recognized the brands all across your body from the cult you were in.

He has seen their members raid the parties he was in, how they walked off with a bunch of intoxicated demons, or snag them using hooks into their wings and forcing them away. He’s heard of the torture demons had endured. Blood experiments. Fusion. The creation of a ‘god’. You were forced to be in there huh?

Asmodeus know that it is not a topic you would want to talk about. He decided that instead, you both should keep your mind off of it. Maybe a few hours of body-positive selfies and watching drama shows and doing makeup will keep your mind off of it.

Beelzebub + Belphegor

Belphegor was asleep as you and Solomon performed spells. He was woken up by a scream followed by crying. Anyway long story short, he ended telling Solomon to fuck off while pulling you away from him. He was too tired to try and ask how to undo the speel so he just went over to his twin’s shared room.

Beel saw a tiny child you and his eyes lit up at the sight of a child. It disappeared quickly when you fucking sucker-punched Belphie and gave him a swift kick into his gut. “Damn demon, get away from me. What are you doing?! Are you trying to die?!”

Belphie dropped you and you already prepared to fight, your body was telling you to scream- run away, get out. You stood your ground. You glared at them. The demons were both shocked. Beel approached you, grabbing you in one swift motion. You squirmed and thrashed. Nothing.

Beel saw the hatred in your eyes along with the hurt. Beel also noticed the brands across your body, he dropped you out of shock, before he caught you again. “Belphegor… Look” Belphegor had never seen his twin look so sad. He went over and looked at what Beelzebub was pointing at. A large cult brand covered your body.

That cult was linked to various disappearances around the Devildom. It has been around for ages as well. He had seen firsthand what they could do- hell Belphegor remembers how they tried to kidnap him when he was an angel. An angel.

Beel remembered the meeting with Diavolo discussing the disappearances and even massacres of their fellow demons. Seeing how they branded a child at such a young age. His stomach churned at the idea of your childhood.

They were snapped out of their thoughts when you smacked your head back into Beels, making him drop you on the floor. You pushed yourself under one of the beds, away from the twins. They couldn’t squeeze their whole body under here and their arms would never reach.

Belphegor lied down and kept trying to reach for you with an ‘ugh, come here brat’. You kept away. At some point, you fell asleep from all the adrenaline leaving your body. You woke up a bit later in someone’s arms. You overhead a conversation with another person.

“This spell should wear off soon, I’ll watch over-” “No, I got them.” Your eyes fluttered open and were met with the below view of Beel’s chin. He held you protectively and walked back to his room alongside Belphegor. Belphegor made eye contact with you.

“Hi…” “...Hey. Gonna kick me again, little-” “Belphie. Leave them alone.” Belphie scowled as Beel set you down on his twin’s bed. You sat up and shyed away. “...Thank you… for not hurting me.” Beel frowned and the overwhelming urge to crush you in a hug overwhelmed him, but he knew it would scare you.

Beel sat beside you, offering a snack, on your other side, Belphegor lied down and turned on the TV. You got to watch some DemonTV. As time went off your belly was full and Belphegor was a comfortable pillow for you. You all fell asleep in a sandwich.

When you woke up, you were back to normal, no more brands, no more scars. The twins looked over at you, you can tell that they pitied you to an extent. You know that they’re worried about you too. “No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

983 notes · View notes

darling-i-read-it · 1 year

Text

Harrington's Sister

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!fem!reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: fighting (blood, stitching), reader and billy sneaking around and making out lol, lots of smoking, drinking, parties, lots of drunk characters running around

Author’s Note: If you recognize this one you probably read ‘Harrington’ in 2020! This is the updated version of that and also the longest thing I’ve posted on this blog too date! What can I say, my love for Billy possesses me and takes over.

Disclaimer: While this is set during season 2, I don’t condone Billy’s actions in that season in the slightest. He’s an asshole and racist and has done inexcusable things. Whenever I write for him I am writing for a version of him that could’ve been better had the world around him been expanded more!

Original Request: by anon, hello! I love all of your recent content and I was wondering if you could write a billy hargrove x harrington!reader? something like they’re in a make out session and they get caught? or literally anything if you’re not comfortable with that. thank you x

(not my gif)

You leaned against Steve’s car, looking down at your wristwatch. He was late. Again. You had homework to do and the longer he took the longer you would be up working. You weren’t willing to pull an all-nighter before the test you had tomorrow in first period.

You looked around the bustling crowd of people for your older brother. He was only older by 10 months. The Harrington’s ‘two kids and done’ rule was over within two years, which prompted you and Steve to be so close in age.

You pushed yourself off the side of his car and wondered if Nancy had left yet. She was probably with Steve if she hadn’t. You might be able to find him, or at least get a ride from her. You had a grueling ethics essay that needed your attention and you knew that if the motivation went away you wouldn’t be able to retain it soon enough to get it done.

You started to look through the parking lot, filled with high schoolers who couldn’t drive for the life of them, for Nancy’s car. You didn’t dare enter the roadways with everyone leaving. You slithered between some parked cars and ran right into Billy Hargrove who was opening up the driver's door to his camaro.

“Woah there,” he said out of reflex, holding his hands to stop your momentum. Your breath hitched from the distraction. You were surprised to see him still around. Usually he was the first out of the parking lot, his car screeching as it made sharp turns.

“Sorry,” you breathed out. You tried to go around him but his car door was still in the way.

“Have you seen Max?” he asked. He knew you were often around his sister, or at least Steve was.

“No. Have you seen Steve?”

“No,” he grumbled. He looked above your head. You weren’t sure if he was looking for his sister or your brother but you didn’t move out of his way. “I’m supposed to take her to the arcade.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling you this. Perhaps it was because you were so off limits that he couldn’t help but be fond of you. Maybe it was because you were the only person in front of him who could listen. It was probably because you were in similar predicaments.

“Yeah well I have to do homework and Steve has the car keys,” you responded. He met your eyes. “If you see him will you yell at him?”

“I always do sweetheart.” You pursed your lips and pushed past him, trying to ignore the heat rising to your face. Billy Hargrove was the worst kind of guy. Steve hated him and you didn’t blame him. He was an asshole to everyone around him and a delinquent in the most traditional form.

But you couldn’t help but feel some sort of attraction towards him. It was likely rooted in the hatred Steve had for him, the natural urge to defy your older brother. You avoided him as best you could because you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for longer than you could stand him.

You saw Steve standing beside Nancy’s car and you ran up to him, shaking off the small interaction for nothing more than it was. Small.

Billy wouldn’t say he went out of his way to see you but he did park right next to Steve’s car for a reason. When you approached it at the end of the school day he was already there, waiting, a cigarette dancing between his fingers.

“Where’s Harrington?” Billy questioned. You went to open the passenger door to ignore this conversation but of course it was locked.

“I’m Harrington,” you argued. You turned around. There was no getting out of this one.

“Steve,” he corrected. He gestured with his two fingers back at the school. “Caught up with Wheeler again?” “Getting things from his locker. At least told me he would be longer today.” Billy pushed himself off the side of his car gently, not wanting to leave any kind of scruff on it. You were so close just by the sheer nature of the car’s being parked beside each other. You swallowed hard.

“Max skipped today,” he said, voice low. “I could take you back if you don’t wanna wait.”

“Now why would you do that?” you questioned. You crossed your arms defensively. You hoped that putting some more space between you two would make it easier to deny him.

“Out of the kindness of my heart.”

“You have a heart?”

“You’re welcome to come check for a pulse.” You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile playing on your face. You were close enough to touch him and though you knew you shouldn’t, you wanted to make him think you were bolder than you were. You put your hand flat on his chest. He had his red shirt half unbuttoned. You were touching his skin with your fingers spread out. You made a face like you were thinking, contemplating the heart within him.

“Feels faint. You should get that checked out Hargrove.” He was looking at you with eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Lust? Adoration? Thrill?

“You probably got a better grade in bio than I did. I’ll take your word for it.” You looked behind him, trying to find Steve among the crowd of dissipating students. “What harm will it do?” he asked, like he could read your mind.

You met his eyes again.

“You got a piece of paper?”

He went and shuffled through his dashboard for something to write on. He found a napkin and you pulled a pen out of your bag.

Found another ride

Sister

You put the napkin underneath the windshield wipers. Then you got in the passenger seat of Billy Hargrove’s car. You could smell the cologne he wore everyday, like he had spilled it on the carpet and it never came out. When he started the car music erupted from the speakers, Van Halen you were fairly sure. He pulled out of the parking spot, almost hitting someone, and then screeched through the lot to the exit.

You tried to hide the thrill in your chest. You shouldn’t be this excited to be in his car, to be on the other end of watching him leave the school. You were victim to something every other girl in the near vicinity was - feeling a pull towards the bad boy. You wanted to be better or at least be different but he had this routine locked down. He knew exactly what he was doing when he turned the music down to look at you. You wondered if the eyes he was making were part of his line, to reel you in.

“Which way am I turning?” he questioned, lowly. You pointed up towards the next street.

“Right. Then the second left.” He nodded. He took the turn too sharply. Despite his recklessness, you felt safe in the car with him. It’s like his own belief that he was invincible had worn off on you. “Thank you for taking me.” You had no real need to be home sooner. You would’ve been fine waiting for Steve. But you found you were better now that you were with Billy.

“No problem sweetheart.”

You drove in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. You were surprised to find him not throwing out line after line. Maybe this was his thing. Make you want him more than he wanted you so that giving in felt like his choice. He had the music turned up more, tapping on the steering wheel.

“Right up here.” There was an ease in the air that was only encouraged by the slight summer air from the windows. Billy rolled his down a bit to get the airflow. The sunrays were burning up your thighs. You squirmed, trying to get them out of the direct light. “That house.”

You knew the drive was gonna be short but you still found yourself wishing you had led him elsewhere. Some sort of long route to have a reason to stay with him. He pulled up in front of your house, looking up at it.

You followed his gaze, trying to see it how he would.

There was a gentle silence.

“You wanna go get something to ea-”

“Yes,” you finished. You had seen that charming smile on his face, one that he gave when he knew he got what he wanted. He reached in front of you and grabbed a cigarette pack out of the front compartment. He pushed one out with his finger and placed it between his teeth.

“You know your brother probably wouldn’t want you in my car.”

“I think I’m a big girl who can make decisions for herself. Don’t you?” The smile grew, all teeth. He had raised his eyebrow slightly, like he was assessing the situation and knew how it would end.

“Let’s get something to eat.”

He had never turned off the car. He pushed down on the gas.

Something about Billy was so easy. The foundation of your relationship had been built on secrecy, which made it so alluring. Maybe the two of you were just destined to continue some sort of doomed circle of attraction. Whatever the reason, you weren’t about to let go.

Billy and you stuck to sneaking around after school, ignoring each other during it. You would often pretend to have a study group, which was believable. You would also make up some story about sleeping over at a friends, which was less so, but you saved that for special occasions.

Sneaking around with Billy was the most scandalous thing you had done. You were willing to bet it wasn’t the most scandalous thing he had done. But for some reason he stuck around, never giving you a hint of wanting to be somewhere else.

The inside of the Camaro had become a comfort. You started to know the grooves of the car, the way the passenger door stuck or the dim lighting of the overhead bulbs.

You pushed the rearview mirror back so that you could see your face. You fixed your hair, messy from an afternoon well spent. Billy snuck a hand onto your thigh. You eyed him evenly.

“Down boy,” you whispered.

He scoffed, his tongue coming out in his smile. He removed his hand obediently but not after a pat. You adjusted the seat you were in so it wasn’t reclining anymore. You looked back at yourself in the mirror, surprised to see you were grinning. It was like you couldn’t help it.

You glanced out the window out of habit. You were parked on the side of a highway ten miles outside of Hawkins. You knew there were almost no chances of Steve finding you out here, but the adrenaline of the almost kept you looking.

“Harrington isn’t gonna find us out here. Relax princess.” You gave him a narrow look. “Steve isn’t gonna find us out here.” You nodded once and relaxed back into your seat. He placed a toothpick between his teeth.

“You never know. He likes to be spontaneous.”

Billy was so used to sneaking around. Usually it was with girls he didn’t want to be seen with. It was rooted in selfish reasons, almost every time. Almost. He found that sneaking around with you was more exhilarating. Was it because of Steve or had Billy Hargrove actually found himself in love?

The mere thought made him want to pull away from the situation but he stayed, too stubborn to fight even himself.

“Would it be so bad if he caught us?” Billy asked. You placed your elbow on the dash between you, holding your chin in your hand.

“He’d kill you,” you whispered. He looked up at you, the smile on his face creeping wider.

“I’d like to see him try,” he whispered back, a surprising amount of sincerity in his voice.

“You sure you don’t need a ride today?” Steve was following close behind you. You were weaving through the crowd of rushing students.

“I’m sure. Thank you though.” If you weren’t so wound up in the heat of the relationship you might’ve still had Steve take you back a couple times a week. Most of the time you were skipping the last period with Billy or you had him taking you home before Steve ever left the school.

It had been almost a month that you and Billy had been sneaking around. Nancy wasn’t really cutting it anymore, in the way of excuses. She was your friend but she was also your brothers girlfriend so you couldn’t exactly confide in her where you were spending all of your hopeless afternoons.

You emerged into the parking lot. You both stopped.

“Where are you going today?”

“Study group.”

“For which class?”

“Chemistry.” He narrowed his eyes on you.

“With who?”

“Steve I don’t appreciate this line of questioning.” He searched your face for a weakness. You had none. “Tell mom I’ll be back before dinner.” You could tell he wanted to argue but had nothing to back himself up with. “Goodbye Steve.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You wound me. Goodbye Steve.”

“Are you still going to the party tonight at Thompsons?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back in plenty of time for that,” you promised. He nodded once, suspiciously.

He started to back up and ran right into someone. With his flurry of apologies you were able to sneak away. You walked around the back of the school, searching in your bag for the cigarette you had stolen from Billy that morning. You found it after a moment. You fought with your lighter for a moment before placing it between your lips and landing between buildings next to the racetrack.

Billy was already there.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked, gesturing to your lips. You took it between your fingers to leave a chaste kiss on his mouth.

“Found it in my boyfriend's car.”

“Shouldn’t be dating a guy that smokes. Bad for you,” he hummed, taking it from you. “How was your day sweetheart?” You shrugged.

“I’m skipping PE next time. I’d rather be caught dead than in that locker room again.”

“You girls have it easy. You can feign a broken nail.”

“Don’t be a douche.” You took your cigarette back. “You act like you ever come to PE.”

“Basketball counts towards my PE elective,” he promised. “I spend plenty of time in the locker rooms.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Slightly suggestive Hargrove. What are you doing in the locker room that long?” He rolled his eyes.

“We’re even now.” You nodded once. He approached you and you slung your hands over his shoulders. Smoke emerged from behind him, trailing from the cig. He leaned forward and kissed you. You were addicted to kissing him. He permanently tasted like beer and bad decisions. You wondered lazily if the nicotine on his lips added to your dependency. “You comin to the party tonight?”

“Yup,” you promised. You hadn’t gotten to see Billy break Steve’s keg record in person yet and the sheer idea of it got you excited. When he kissed you again he was smiling. His hands wandered from your hips at the sound of your moan against his lips.

“I just need to grab something from the locker room.”

Your eyes shot straight open at the sound of a familiar voice coming down the alley. You pushed Billy off of you, leaving you against the wall heaving, a cigarette still burning between your fingers.

Steve was at the end of the alley, Nancy trailing behind him. She had a firm grip on her bookbag and at the sight of you her jaw set. You could barely even look at Steve but for the sake of everyone, you met his eyes. His eyes fueled immediately with anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here with my sister Hargrove?” he demanded. Billy was looking ridiculously guilty, the red from your kisses still on his face.

“I think you know what I was doing here with your sister Harrington.”

Steve stomped forward in anger, eager to put his fists to use. You rushed between them, putting your hand against Billy’s chest and facing Steve.

“Steve, calm down.”

“Is this where you’ve been going every afternoon? You haven’t been studying at all. You’ve been with Billy Hargrove?” A defeated look went over your face. Steve shook his head in betrayal. “Why would you lie to me?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this!”

“Because you were making out with Billy Hargrove!” he repeated.

“I can make my own decisions!” “Clearly not good ones!” Nancy grabbed Steve’s arm, pulling him gently backwards. He didn’t shake her off.

“Let it go Harrington,” Billy said. Steve lurched forward and Billy walked in front of you, blocking you. You grabbed his shoulder, pulling him backwards.

“Alright alright,” you muttered. “You need to go cool off Steve.”

“She’s right,” Nancy said. She looked at Steve with an even gaze.

“I’ll see you at the party?” you questioned, eager to have this confrontation end. Steve had a hard look on his face, clearly not wanting to exit this conversation. He didn’t answer which was an answer. You’d see him at the party. Steve kept his gaze on Billy until Nancy forced him to turn around.

The tension dissipated when he left.

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“Told you it wouldn’t be that bad.” You hit his shoulder, rolling your eyes. He scoffed, feigning hurt. He threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him by bending his elbow towards your neck. “I get you for a couple more hours then?”

“Seems like it,” you said optimistically.

“Let’s go get ready for that party then, hm sweetheart?”

You had been to parties before but you only ever went with Steve. You would usually lose him right after you arrived but end up having to drive him home before midnight. He always swore not to get drunk which absolutely meant he was sure to.

Going with Billy was different. He took you back to his place, somewhere you had never been before. He had you climb in through the window of his room, laughing as he hoisted you up. You threw clothes at him, knowing you weren’t about to wear your school clothes out. He had nothing in the way of girl clothes but helped you sneak into his step moms room when she and his dad went out.

“Your mom only has mom clothes,” you said, going through her coat hangers.

“Step-mom,” he corrected. He was looking in the mirror of her vanity, adjusting his hair. You reached into the back, something that felt like it hadn’t been touched since they moved in. You pulled out a dress, though you weren’t sure it was gonna fit. You hummed, wondering if you could find a pair of scissors to make it work. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He put his head on your shoulder.

“What about this one?” you asked, holding the fabric in your hands. “I could make it a crop top or maybe a short dress. Some sort of jacket…” you hummed in consideration.

“Whatever you want. I’m sure she won’t miss it.”

He grabbed you some scissors and you made it your own, satisfied that you were able to go out in it. Then you were back in his car, the music far too loud, and the night air coming in through the cracked windows. By the time you arrived at the Thompsons residence the party had already started. You could hear the music from the car and could see the half drunk people loitering around the deck. Billy got out of the car, surveying the area, and was immediately noticed by one of the basketball players you didn’t recognize.

You followed him inside, his hand remaining in yours as he dragged you along through the crowd. You kept crashing into people but he kept your hands together, dependent on your touch. You emerged near the punch bowl that was almost certainly not punch.

“We should’ve pregamed,” you muttered. The smile that came over his face was mischievous and alluring. He had opted only to wear his black leather jacket to the party, not bothering with a shirt underneath. The amount of people there required you to be so close you were almost touching, not that you minded.

“I’ll drink enough to say we did,” he promised. He leaned over, giving you a sloppy kiss that tasted like whatever was in this punch. You hummed, melting into his touch. He held you up with a hand on your hip.

When he pulled away he was already dragging you outside. You emerged through the sliding glass doors. You were surprised at the burst of cold air, despite the fact that there were maybe more people out there than there had been inside. It was like the entire senior class was here.

“Hey Hargrove!” one of the basketball players called. You thought maybe his name was Travis but you weren't sure enough to call out to him. You knew it started with a T. “We’ve been saving this one for you!” Travis slapped the metal keg on the ground. You scoffed, looking at it in dismay. You would have one hell of a headache in the morning after that. Billy whistled at the sight of it. He let go of your hand and you couldn’t hear his voice over the people trying to talk to him. You crossed your arms, watching with curious eyes as someone made the deliberation on who would get to lift him up over it.

You shook your head in amazement. Billy looked back at you, a reckless smile on his face. You raised your eyebrows at his gaze. He gestured to the keg.

“Show me how it’s done!” you called. The smile on his face grew. The cockiness of it edged at the lines of his lips. He looked ridiculously good.

He let two people lift him over it.

You had practically forgotten about Steve. It seemed like he was a whole other universe of issues. Right now it was just you and Billy and the hundred other seniors that were around. There were not many thoughts going through your head as you watched Billy, the pull towards him suddenly undeniable.

“Where’d you get that outfit?”

Steve broke your thoughts. You turned to find him standing beside you. You hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

“None of your business.”

“Mom’s pissed. She made you dinner.”

“Don’t act like you don’t skip dinner all the time.” Your voice would’ve been a mutter had it not been so loud. People had started chanting, counting down, screaming Billy’s name.

“You’re making a mistake!” Steve called over everyone. “He’s not a good guy!”

“Some could say you aren’t either!”

It was a slightly low blow, making him think about the things he had said and done just last year.

“He won’t change!” Steve argued.

They put Billy down, cheering followed.

“Keg King prevails!” someone yelled, slapping him on the back. Billy wiped his face aggressively, yelling along with them. He turned around, completely blind to Steve, and kissed you as hard as could. You could still taste the beer on his lips, his breath aching of it. The cheering continued, only intensified at the kiss.

You could’ve sat there forever if Steve hadn’t pulled him off you by the shoulder.

Billy, hyped on adrenaline, turned to face your brother. He still had a hand on you but quickly let go when he noticed who had pulled him away. He puffed his chest.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your sister Harrington?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna tell you.” You became aware that most people were watching this unfold. Their eyes hadn’t left Billy. He seemed to do one entertaining thing after the next.

“Why don’t you make me?”

“Okay guys-” you started but was cut off by Steve throwing a punch. You gasped, not expecting actual violence to ensue. Billy, always eager to use his fists, didn’t hesitate to fight back. He pushed Steve against the sliding glass door, shattering it. Your eyes went wide, unsure how to even handle this.

People were cheering and groaning on Steve’s behalf.

Steve scrambled up, throwing his whole body at Billy.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” you muttered. You rushed to follow them as they took the fight in the house. You hadn’t been here for ten minutes before you were sure the police would be called.

Billy staggered, throwing a punch that missed. Steve grabbed a lamp off the counter and hit him with it.

“Okay! Okay that’s enough!” You pushed through the people, trying to get in between them. Before you could Billy hit Steve with a china plate that was on display in the corner of the room. You winced, watching your brother crumble against the kitchen counter. You threw yourself between them, pushing Billy back. He had a crazed adrenaline pumping look in his eyes.

You shoved him back, gently and then turned back to Steve who was struggling to stand. You found Nancy in the crowd, who heard the commotion. She was drunk, you could tell in her eyes, but not enough to not understand what was going on. She helped you help Steve up.

“It’s time to go home,” you said, evenly. Nancy wasn’t sober enough to drive. “I’ll call you a cab or something.”

“I’ll make him wait outside and think about his actions,” Nancy muttered. The event cleared her head quickly. “I’ve got it.”

“No, no, you don’t get to leave here with him. He’s not good for you!” Steve exclaimed.

“Steve, I can make my own decisions!” You turned to Nancy. “You got him?” She nodded, swallowing hard. He had a cut down his forehead but it looks superficial. Plus, if anyone was capable, it was Nancy Wheeler.

“But-” Steve started.

“You can’t protect me forever,” you said, cutting him off. He met your eyes and pursed his lips. “Go home.”

“You too.”

He followed Nancy out. When you turned around Billy was breathing hard. He was being spoken to in all directions. You turned back to him and noticed that the lamp had gotten the side of his head good. His hair was starting to turn red on the left side of his head.

You were going to speak when you heard someone scream.

“Police!”

You breathed out sharply. You weren’t prepared for this much excitement. You grabbed Billy’s arm who in turn, led you out the back. Everyone was running and you could barely see him in the dark with his black leather jacket on. He jumped the neighbors fence without a second thought. You followed close behind until you returned back to the car where you had come from. You had parked down the street a bit, which ended up being your saving grace in the night. You could see the police lights back at the house, not even a block away.

Billy unlocked the car.

“You are not driving,” you exclaimed, voice sharp.

“I’m fine,” he responded, voice rushed.

“You are the opposite of fine,” you grumbled, grabbing the keys from him. “Passenger seat.” He didn’t move. “Now!” You weren’t sure if it was the pain or the alcohol but he listened to you. He got into the passenger seat of the camaro. You started the car, cursing gently as it revved. You backed up and pulled away in the opposite direction from the Thompsons.

The music turned on naturally but it was a silent rumble to the heavy breathing you both were exhaling.

It took five minutes for either of you to speak.

“We need to get your head looked at,” you said, now that you were able to see and think straight. He nodded.

“I’ve got a first aid kit in the back.”

“Why do you have a first aid kit in the back?”

“You’d be surprised how often this happens.”

“You used to stitching yourself up?” “I find bandaids work just fine.” You rolled your eyes. You didn’t want to go back to your house, knowing it’s likely where Nancy took Steve. You hoped they had made it home safe and weren’t victims of the police raid. You didn’t want to take Billy back to his place, knowing you had stolen his step moms shirt and unsure how they would react to finding him like this.

You pulled over onto the side of the highway. It was only 10. It wasn’t completely deserted but the traffic had eased enough for you to be comfortable pulling aside. You climbed into the backseat, rummaging around his jackets. You found the first aid kit and then returned to the driver's seat. Billy was breathing evenly. You found a ghost of a smile on his face.

You opened up the kit and placed it on your lap before looking back up at him.

“Stay still,” you muttered. He did as he was told. You moved his hair aside to find the actual wound. He was bleeding from his noise from a punch but that didn’t look broken, just bruised. It was the open wound that worried you. You seethed. It didn’t look deep but it didn’t look good.

“You good sweetheart?” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah I’m fine.” You looked down at the kit and grabbed some wet wipes, trying to clear the blood away. He winced.

“How are you doin sweetheart?” you teased. He scoffed.

“I’m alright,” he promised. You worked in silence for a moment.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did. He wanted a fight. He got one.” You couldn’t deny the truth in his statement. Steve would’ve fought him eventually. “And I won.” He turned his head to meet your eyes. “I get to keep you.” You flushed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What makes you think I wanna keep you? Now that we aren’t sneaking around anymore?”

“You're covered in my blood,” he muttered. Your hands were stained with it. You hadn’t even noticed.

“Point taken.” You cleared your throat. “It doesn’t need stitches. You got lucky.”

“Can’t say the same for Steve.” You suddenly thought of the sound of the plates hitting Steve’s head. You winced on his behalf. He adjusted himself. “I need a shower.”

“You want me to take you home?”

“No. Don’t wanna face my dad quite yet.”

“Well we can’t go back to my house. Steve is almost surely there.”

“Then we’ll stay here till we know my dad’s asleep,” he muttered. You nodded and eased in your chair. There was a beat of silence.

“No one’s ever done anything like that for me before Hargrove.”

“I like being the first,” he muttered. His hair was fucked up and he had dried blood on his face and bags under his eyes but you had never been more attracted to him.

“Poor Tammy Thompson. She’s got a broken backdoor, the police and broken lamps,” you whispered. You hadn’t realized your voice had gone down but it felt appropriate for the vibe of the moment.

“Shouldn’t have had kegs there,” he shrugged. You smiled.

“Fair.” You saw his eyes drooping in exhaustion. You held your chin in your hand. He had rested his head against the back of his seat. “I think I wanna keep you,” you whispered. He smiled weakly.

“Good to hear.” You leaned forward, kissing him chastley, to which he responded easily. You placed your hand gently on his cheek, trailing down his skin. He shuddered against your touch.

You rested your forehead against his.

You met each other's eyes and a guilty smile played on his lips.

“What?” you whispered, giggling.

“Nothing,” he promised. “Nothing.”

Billy Hargrove had fallen in love. But he had no intention of telling you that. Not quite yet.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove x harrington!reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction

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photogirl894 · 2 months

Note

Hi Morgan!

I don’t know if you’re taking more than one request per requestee for your 1000 follower celebration, so if you are, you can disregard one of mine, I just thought I’d submit another because I love your writing! I thought of this story: Hunter/reader, what if reader gets amnesia from something that happened to her so she doesn’t remember Hunter. It can be a relearning to fall in love and or/big memory reveal like they’re in the rain or something and that sparks her memory. Could do the forehead touch from your prompt list?

Thanks again for all your stories and sharing your talents <3

You know I love getting any requests from you, my dear 🥰 Especially if it involves our beloved Sergeant, as well 😍

"Muscle Memory"

1. Forehead touches

Pairing: Hunter x fem reader

***

Everything about your world was a haze right now.

You could only remember up to a certain point in time: waking up on a ship with a group of men you didn't recognize. Anything before that...was just darkness in your mind. You didn't know why you couldn't remember anything else at all. One of the men on the ship, who wore goggles and was called Tech, informed you that you had taken a bad fall, suffered a blow to the head, had been unconscious for a few days and now, seemed to be suffering a case of amnesia. You weren't sure what scared you more: the fact that you had amnesia or that you were doing something dangerous enough to make you fall and get a bad blow to the head.

The men tried explaining things in a way that would tell you who you were before without overwhelming you. They were a squad of Clones fighting in a war and you were also a trained soldier who had joined up with them. On their latest mission, an unexpected explosion had happened and had sent you flying over a steep hill, which was where things had gone wrong.

Wow...you were a soldier? Fighting in a war? That was definitely not what you were expecting to hear. They made you sound pretty badass. Even though you couldn't remember any of that, you were determined to get your memories back somehow and the Clones were willing to help in any way they could.

The others' names were Wrecker, Crosshair, Echo and Hunter. Though, of all of them, Hunter seemed to be avoiding you the most and you weren't sure why for a while. He seemed sad and closed off whenever he even looked at you. You would try to talk to him and his responses would be brief before turning away or walking away. Later on, you were told by Echo that you and Hunter had actually been an item before your accident and that it was hard for him at the moment being around you when you didn't remember any of that. You couldn't help but feel an ache in your heart for him. He was handsome, for sure. You wished you could give him back what he'd lost, but it didn't feel right when you couldn't recall anything about him.

Maybe one day.

A couple weeks passed and only tiny details would return to your mind every so often, but nothing really substantial. The Clones had suggested, once you seemed okay enough, to maybe try your hand at your combat skills to see if maybe that would awaken anything in you. You tried shooting a blaster and, even though you managed to land a couple shots, it didn't seem to work. However, Wrecker suggested sparring with Hunter. Apparently, you were better at hand-to-hand combat before and Hunter was the one who had taught you. You blushed immensely at the thought of trying to fight him and Hunter looked pretty uncomfortable, too. Though, the rest of the Clones pushed for it, too, and eventually, you both relented. With that, the two of you went outside, thinking the sparring might not last very long as the sky was getting dark with rain clouds.

"I'll uh...I'll try and go easy on you in case you don't remember how to fight," Hunter said to you timidly.

"I appreciate that," you replied, bringing your hands up to a defensive position. Hopefully, this wouldn't end too badly.

After taking a moment to psych himself up, Hunter stepped forward and went to throw a punch. For a split second, you panicked, but then your arm moved of its own accord and blocked Hunter's oncoming attack. You both stopped and looked at each other in astonishment.

"How did I...?" you asked aloud.

"Looks like your muscle memory might be kicking in," Hunter observed. "That's something."

That got you almost excited in the moment. "Come at me again," you told him.

Hunter gave a nod and went for a couple more punches and your body kept reacting before your mind could process things and you blocked both hits. A smile slowly crept up on your face. Your memories might not be coming back, but this was still progress. Your body hadn't forgotten the training instilled in you. You decided to take a chance and went for a hit at Hunter, going to fight back. He blocked and parried your hits and things began to heat up between you as your sparring increased. Punches and kicks were being thrown about at each other and parried with ease on both sides.

At one point, you could see a pleased grin on Hunter's face and strangely, it brought butterflies to your stomach...which felt both foreign and familiar at the same time. That small distraction was enough to give Hunter the upper hand and, getting too caught up in the moment, he swept his leg into yours, knocking you onto your back and suddenly, he was above you, pinning your wrists to the ground. His face was only inches away from yours, the two of you breathing heavily and fanning each other's faces with your hot breath. Along with that, you could feel a sprinkling of rain drops starting to fall on your skin from above. His brown eyes looked down upon you with an intensity that made your heart race...and the feeling of him above you, his face so close to you...this was something you thought you had experienced before...

There was a bang in your head and you let out a pained cry.

Hunter had pinned you down to the ground in your first sparring match and you groaned in frustration at him beating you. You had felt so confident that you'd best him. He had your wrists pinned down and he was only inches away from your face, his eyes gazing into your very soul.

"Maybe next time, sweetheart," he taunted you, his nose brushing yours.

Determined to not let this be the end, you decided to play along and said, "All right, fine. You win."

When you felt his grip on your hands loosen, you pulled them free and pushed back on him, flipping him over onto his back and you moved to straddle him, a cocky grin on your face. His eyes were wide in shock for a moment, but then his lips curled up in a smirk at seeing you on top of him like this. The flirtatious look in his eyes made your breath catch and finally, after keeping your feelings to yourself for a long time, you couldn't wait any longer. You bent over, took his face in your hands and kissed him firmly for the first time. After a brief, stunned moment, you felt him kiss you back and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight like he'd never let you go.

Suddenly, your mind was flooded intensely with a wave of various memories in almost an instant.

Meeting the Bad Batch for the first time. Your first mission with them. The first time Hunter ever complimented you. Getting drinks with the boys at 79's. The first time Hunter held your hand. Crosshair teasing you about staring at Hunter from across the ship. The safety you felt with the boys. Them telling you that you would always be one of them. Hunter admitting to you that he had wanted you since the moment he met you. Your first night of passion together where you both ended up confessing your love for each other. The last mission you and the squad had gone on and then the explosion that had sent you falling....

A sharp, heavy gasp escaped you and your body convulsed, causing Hunter to rear back in shock.

You remembered...you remembered everything!

Fearing he had accidentally hurt you, Hunter asked with worry, "(Y/N), what's wrong? Are you okay?"

After taking a second to catch your breath, you gazed up at him, all-consuming joy overtaking you at remembering the man who held your heart, the man who cared so much for you, the only love of your life. You then decided to do the same thing you'd done in the first memory that had returned to you: you pushed him over onto his back and moved on top of him. Just as Hunter was about to question what you were doing, you took hold of his head, leaned over and crushed your lips against his. For a moment, he didn't move, but then you felt him relax and his arms wrapped tightly around your back. There, on the ground in the middle of the rain, your lips and his engaged in a dance you knew well that you'd thought you'd forgotten forever and it felt heavenly to be kissing your Sergeant again. Your back was getting cold from the rain that was now drenching you, but you couldn't have cared less.

Finally, Hunter broke the kiss and stared up at you, eyes wide with both surprise and relief as a hand came up to trace your cheek. "Sweetheart?" he asked, a trace of hope in his voice.

You nodded and exclaimed, your voice breaking, "I remember! I remember everything!" Then you leaned down and touched your forehead to his, your hands resting on his cheeks. "I remember you, Hunter, and I love you! I love you so much!"

He tilted his head up and kissed you once more. "I love you, too," he replied before flipping you over, putting himself on top this time. "Welcome back, my love. I missed you terribly." Then he resumed kissing you again, overjoyed at having his love back.

Back in the Marauder, the others were about to call out for you and Hunter to come back in because of the rain when they saw the two of you kissing passionately on the ground.

"Well...I think it's safe to say that the sparring idea worked," Crosshair remarked.

"I think we should just leave them. They'll come in when they're ready," said Echo, ushering the rest of them away.

They all were glad your memories had returned and you were yourself again, but at that moment, it was Hunter that needed you the most.

Photogirl894's Physical Affection Prompts

Photogirl894's 1,000 Followers fics

#star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #bad batch prompts #hunter x reader #photogirl894 1000 followers

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backslashdelta · 25 days

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Blaine-friendly Kurtbastian Fic Recs

Putting a list together for @fallevs, but I hope this will be useful for anyone who wants to dip their toes into Kurtbastian fanfiction but doesn't want to read anything anti-Blaine! Everything included in this list will either not include Blaine at all, or if he is in the fic, it will be neutral or friendly toward him.

I've tried to include a wide range of words counts as well, so that you can start with something short and sweet or dive into something big, whatever you feel like. If anyone else has some recommendations to add, please feel free to reblog this list and add more!

Europe Is Our Playground by @glitterdammerung - 53,430 words

Summary: Eight years and half the world away from home, a chance encounter in a Paris club leads Kurt and Sebastian - each running from the ghosts of their pasts - into the diversion of chasing each other across Europe.

(Let's give them) Something to talk about by MemeKonGlee - 20,529 words

Summary: “I need you to—” “I heard you the first time,” Kurt interrupts, putting his fork and knife down on his plate and pushing his half-finished pancakes aside. “What I meant was: what the hell?” He points towards the neglected pancakes, trying to stall in the face of Kurt’s reaction. “Are you sure you don’t wanna finish that first?” The look in Kurt's eyes tells him in no uncertain terms that no, he doesn't want to finish his pancakes, Jesus. And so Sebastian has no option but to take a deep breath in, exhale slowly through his mouth and just… get on with it, internally cringing at how unbelievably ridiculous it all sounds when he puts it in words, all out there for the world (and more importantly, Kurt fucking Hummel) to judge. It all boils down to: I fucked up and I'm too proud to deal with it the mature way.

Safe Mode by flipmeforward - 18,118 words

Summary: An AU in which Kurt and Sebastian never met in high school. Instead, they meet at &brave--an up-and-coming online fashion company where Kurt is the new assistant slash blogger (one day he will figure out a better title), and Sebastian is the less than pleasant tech support guy. Kurt does his best to avoid Sebastian and his rude attitude at all possible costs, but it turns out that technology is not his friend. It also turns out that Sebastian might maybe possibly be (okay, probably is) more than just an annoying coworker.

Come On And Mess Me Up by @pouralittlewater - 215,339 words

Summary: “It’s like...When Harry Met Sally,” Santana told him. “No. That was me and Blaine.” “How? You literally got together in months. You and Sebastian have been skirting the issue for years. This whole “will they, won’t they” thing is getting old.” Or, when Sebastian enrolls in McKinley High and joins Glee right before the duet competition. What Kurt thinks could be the start to a great friendship in gay camaraderie quickly explodes in his face as he realizes being around Sebastian makes him want to set the other boy on fire. However, over time, that feeling dissipates. Even without the title of friendship, the two become ingrained in each other's lives in a way neither ever expected to.

Thunderbolts & Lightning by @alphabees-writes - 1,854 words

Summary: Sebastian has a plan. It goes wrong, and then right, and then wrong again.

tension bars by @cryscendo - 824 words

Summary: Prompt by backslashdelta: kurt, sports!au (gymnastics), exes, “sometimes, i sit in bed and wonder what would happen if things were different.”

I Want The World To See You'll Be With Me by @backslashdelta (me!) - 2,405 words

Summary: Kurt and Sebastian attend a Christmas party, and Sebastian has a special surprise for Kurt afterward.

Dessert by @nalasan - 1,175 words

Summary: “Oh my God,” Sebastian says, staring at the plate in front of him. “We have to break up.” Kurt, who has just walked into their living room and is still in his winter coat, raises his eyebrow quizzically; his expression more bemused than worried, “And why is that?” “Just look at that,” Sebastian replies, gesturing at the table in front of him like he is seeing it for the first time: the white tablecloth, the candles in their silver candleholders, the white roses in their vase in the middle of the table, and the dinner Sebastian has been preparing since he came home three hours ago.

And Why Is That? by @20xbetterthanu - 41,321 words

Summary: "I love you, and I hate myself for that." "And why is that?" Love hurts.

Note from me: this fic is definitely not anti-Blaine, however it does heavily involve Blaine and he is Not having a good time, so I maybe wouldn't recommend it if you want to avoid him (and the other boys!) being sad.

A Change In The Weather by cacophonylights - 209,414 words

Summary: The summer before college Kurt is shocked when Sebastian comes to him with a timely offer he can’t refuse. He’ll get something he needs to realize his dreams, but in return he has to play the role of Sebastian’s boyfriend for the summer. Neither of them know just how much their worlds are about to change. For a GKM prompt.

Note from me: this fic COULD be considered anti-Blaine, but I don't personally consider it to be; it maybe doesn't paint him in the most positive light, but I think it's still neutral enough to be on this list, and it's essentially required reading at this point! Also, it is famously unfinished, but there are a couple fan sequels: ACITW AU by @lady-divine-writes A Drop In The Ocean by @daftydraw and jwmelmoth The ACITW link above is for livejournal, but you can also find the original fic on AO3 in two parts here and here.

#mine #fanfiction #fic rec #kurtbastian #kurtbastian fanfiction #glee #glee fanfiction #fallevs #I hope this list is helpful!!#and I would love to hear your thoughts on any of these fics (or any others you happen to find and read!)#kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #also please please please read europe is our playground #no pressure but like OMG it's so good #everything in this list is good though so. yeah.

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neteyamsoare · 1 year

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Are You Ashamed of Me?

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Lo’ak Sully x Fem! Na'vi! Omatikaya! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Request From [@neteyamslovrr]. 11 "are you ashamed of me " with Lo'ak for ur sleepover bae also CONGRATS ON 500 BAE u deserve it ur writing is amazing.

༉‧₊˚. Summary. Lo’ak is ready to take the relationship to the next level but what happens when he finds out the secret you’ve been hiding?

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Angst.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Lo'ak, cursing, infidelity, crying, and no happy ending!

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 698.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Sa’nok — [mother], and Sempul — [father].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. Omg, thanks boo! I hope you like this. This is probably bad so sorry in advance. 😅 Thank you for participating and ilysm! ☺️

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist + Part Two

"I don't understand, why can't I meet them?" Lo’ak looks down at you with an annoyed expression as you try to avoid his gaze, biting down on your lip as you feel your chest tighten.

Lo’ak was once again asking to meet your parents, the same parents who you have been telling him all week that they already love him but the truth was they didn’t even know you were dating him.

You felt bad for lying but you were afraid that if you told them, they would take you away from him.

You didn’t think they would love to hear that you have been going out with the boy who had a reckless reputation to his name, so you never said anything to them and that meant you had to do the one thing you hate and that was to lie. ‘Oh, they can’t wait to meet you.’ ‘My sa’nok will love you.’ ‘It’s not a good time right now, my sempul is sick.’ But of course, all the lies you spread came back to bite you in the ass.

“Please don’t push it, Lo’ak, you’ll meet them soon…” you say as you start to walk away but he stops you from going any further with his eyebrows now furrowed with anger. “You say that all the time but it never happens, are you hiding something from me?” You swallow hard as you try to think of any lie you can say to him but Lo’ak already knew that by the way you were avoiding eye contact, you were hiding something and he wasn’t going to let you go until you told him the truth.

“That’s what you always say but every time you make up some excuse of why I can’t,” he lets out an annoyed sigh as he looks down at you, his gaze softens. “I… I mean I thought you said they would love to meet me. So why can’t I meet them already, you already met my parents so why…” You look down at your feet and let out a breath you had been holding in.

“I lied..” you mumble hoping he wouldn’t hear you but he hears it perfectly, letting your hand go. “What?” You meet his confused gaze and take a deep breath. “I lied okay, my parents don’t know that we’re dating… I never told them…” He takes a step back at your confession.

“I thought they wouldn’t approve of our relationship because… because…” you bite your lip not wanting to make it even more worse but he hisses, your tail wagging low as your ears are pinned back against your skull.

“Are you ashamed of me?” you shook your head quickly as tears start to build up in your eyes trying to come up with something to say that would make this situation you got yourself in any better but Lo’ak continued on, “Because I’m not the clan’s golden boy, because I do things differently than everybody else?” you try to step close to him but he takes another step back.

“I thought you understood but you have been playing with me this whole time, are you fucking kidding me?!” Tears start to roll down your cheeks as you walk closer to him taking his hand in yours.

“No… I love you Lo’ak, I didn’t want to lose you,” a sob escapes your mouth as tears well up in Lo’aks eyes as he yanks his hand away from you. “How did that go for you, huh?” he looks down at the necklace he had gifted you and meets your teary gaze. “You can keep that to remember me by because… I don’t ever want to speak to you again, we’re done,” he turns around and walks away as you go to your knees.

You had yourself to blame for this mess, you could’ve fought for him, instead of just making assumptions, maybe your parents would’ve actually loved him but it’s all too late for the maybes and what-ifs, you lost him, you can’t turn back time, all you can do now is pray to eywa that he can forgive you and maybe just maybe… give you a second chance.

🔖 @livelaughloak, @jakesully-sbabygirl, @kenzi-woycehoski, @fanboyluvr, @onlytays, @amart-e, @vxncxntt, @blep24, @blackheart-stuff, @almondmilk8, @love-chx, @uniltsatirey, @23victoria, @saeayanaa, @aash3, @canaomfa, @neteyamsbaby, @0littlelucy0, @itszmedawn, @strawberryclouds22, @doulcha, @lixiesbrowniess, @liluvtojineteyam, @tinkerbelle05, @olivikiya, @neteyamyawne, @ratchetprime211, @cloudyl9, @mooniequeen, @kentfisherswifee6, @murderbirbdany, @draiochtwrites, @ami-s-k.

#ಣ : sylaphone #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak x fem reader #lo'ak x you #lo'ak x omatikaya!reader #lo'ak x y/n #lo'ak x fem!reader #loak sully x reader #loak x reader #loak x female reader #loak x y/n #loak x you #atwow lo'ak #lo'ak angst #atwow x reader #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #lo’ak x reader #avatar the way of water

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xypherz · 8 months

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Moon!Lee Know x Sun!Reader

Details: Lee Minho x Reader, GN!Reader, Headcanons, 0.56k words You know the drill, opposites attract and whatnot.

Warnings: None, I don’t think? Maybe a curse word.

i'm definitely not a sun!person, so i hope this makes a lick of sense because i sure won't be able to tell if it doesn't! anyway these are so fun to write (even though i suck at proofreading please spare me).

This man.

He’s a very sarcastic and snarky guy, and he likes to keep his emotions under wraps, hating crying or being sad around people.

He’s relatively quiet (I say relatively for obvious reasons), and he tends to listen instead of inserting himself into conversations.

His life was as calm as any idol's life could be.

And then came you.

You are not quiet! Or a listener!

No no, you are talkative and love being at the center of every conversation.

It’s for this reason that Lee Minho immediately avoided you.

It’s not that he doesn’t like talkative people, or he can’t handle them.

If that were the case, he would be miserable around some of the other members of Stray Kids.

It’s that you hate leaving people out.

If someone tries to talk, and you see that they’ve been talked over, you’re immediately pulling them into the conversation to make them feel included.

While Minho is appreciative of your mindfulness, you also didn’t understand, at first, that he does not want to be included in the first place.

You notice he hasn’t spoken for a while? You’re prompting him.

He says something under his breath? You hear it loud and clear.

You constantly pulling him into conversations he had little-to-no interest in was his queue to recede somewhere else.

Including people is not the only thing you’re mindful of, though, so when you noticed that he seemed to dislike the situations you were putting him in (intentionally or not), you decided to stop.

When he’d make a comment that only you heard, you’d respond to him quietly, letting him know that someone’s listening, but not bringing him into an unwanted situation.

It was little changes to your usual habits that show you actually care about him, and it’s not just you being you.

He does not pick up on that though.

Sure he notices the changes you make, but he doesn’t really understand why.

When you actually develop romantic feelings for him, you literally have to spell it out to him.

Forgive him, he’s so clueless.

You’d expect him to be super attentive to that kind of thing since he never misses any mistake in choreography or changes in behavior of his members.

But nope, this man is absolutely useless when it comes to discerning romantic and platonic feelings.

He gets there eventually though, don’t worry.

Mentally facepalms when he finally figures it out because you tried to make it so obvious.

He makes it up to you by taking you on the cutest dates.

He may not be very good at knowing when someone likes him, but he remembers every small detail you mention about yourself.

I imagine you probably brought up liking an art history class that you took in high school like a month into knowing each other, and then 3 months later he brings you to an art museum.

Or you mention you haven’t been to this one cafe that you really love in a while and the next week, he’s taking you on a coffee date.

He’s a listener, an observer.

He doesn’t like when people try to turn him into anything different.

And as much as people try to say you’re not an observer as well, you did a pretty damn good job of noticing that about him.

So maybe you guys aren’t as different as you think.

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jelliezellie · 1 year

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I thought about more of prompts for some Levi request so here am i again, bc your writing is damn good

Can I have Levi and reader dancing in a ballroom like to charm the politics ? Two good looking people dancing together so they can influence the politics to support expeditions and all

Its been on my brain for days now 🌸

(The reader can wear anything honestly :>)

A/N: YES. oh my god, in my book, I just finished writing a ballroom chapter and I’ve been craving more so yes yes yes tysm for requesting this. Also, I appreciate the compliment!! <3 It means the world to me!

CW: A little alcohol. Very tiny. Also, slight suggestiveness (if you can call it that) towards the end?

Super fast backstory:

Y/n is the prince/princess/heir to the throne and they’ve talked a few times outside of the ballroom because Levi asked for more resources from the king. Y/n said they’d need to convince the king together, so they’re putting on a little show for the entire kingdom. The show? Captain Levi captures the heart of the heir to the throne.

It could also be up to interpretation, but that’s what I have planned. Sorry if it’s not the perfect response to the request!!

You entered the ballroom behind your father, the king, and looked around. The chandelier hung like a cluster of stars on the painted ceilings of the castle and you couldn’t help but stare in awe at the lighting. The band’s music reached a crescendo as the king entered and you looked up at your father. He nodded, a silent signal of your permission to dance.

You tried not to trip over your feet in excitement as you rushed down the stairs. You scanned the crowd for Captain Levi, trying to avoid the group of people that flocked around you. One man said “You owe me a dance,” and you nearly vomited.

“Where is the Captain?!” You panicked, trying not to make a noise as you silently declined the offer to dance.

A gloved hand grabbed your arm and tore you away from the crowd. “You don’t look too good, Your Highness,” Levi grumbled, glaring at the crowd. A wave of relief washed over you. The excitement of your presence in the ballroom died down fairly quickly and what rose from the ashes was astonishment.

“Is that Captain Levi?!”

“With royalty?”

You smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Captain, it’s good to see you again.”

His brow quirked up, but other than that, his face remained expressionless. “Right. Let’s just get this over with.” He held his hand out to you. “Is your father watching?”

You looked behind Levi and saw your father glaring at the two of you. You nodded and took Levi’s hand. “He is.”

The Captain took you to the middle of the dance floor and gave the band a look. They began playing a slow song and you wrapped your arms around Levi’s neck. “I take it this isn’t really your scene?” You guessed by the coldness in his eyes.

He gave you a brief nod as he delicately placed his hand on your lower back. “I’m doing this for the Survey Corps, so don’t get any ideas. This isn’t going to be a regular thing.”

Your eyes narrowed. “If you hate it so much, why’d you come?”

“I just told you. For the Survey Corps.”

You sighed. “I meant, why you? Isn’t the Commander capable?”

Levi shook his head, twirling you. “He’s too formal. Everyone would expect him to dance with you.”

“And you?”

He glared at you. “Nobody even expected me to come. It makes a greater impression.”

You grinned. “You seem to be enjoying yourself, though. You’re very good at dancing, Captain. How’d you learn?”

His eyes flashed to the side and you followed his gaze. Before he could say anything, you spotted Hange Zoe. You tried to stifle your laughter. “You practiced with Hange?”

“I never said that,” he snapped quietly.

“But you looked at them. Are they a good dancer?”

“They’re irrelevant,” he muttered dismissively. Yet, you could see his cheeks turn slightly pink as he twirled you again.

You tilted your head as you looked at him again. “So, Captain, what do you like to do for fun?”

“I don’t have fun.”

Your brows rose as your frowned, unsatisfied. “Tonight, you do.”

“I do not.”

You intertwined your fingers with his. “You do.” You held his hand, practically dragging him to a tower of champagne glasses. You took two, handing one to Levi. “This is how you have fun, Captain.” You clinked your glass against his and the pink drink bubbled as it ran down your throat. You gave him a grin when you saw him sip on it.

“Drinking? Really, Your Highness?” He questioned. “Have some class.”

“This is class.”

“If you get drunk, I’m not carrying you to your room.”

You tilted your head, a smile growing on your face. “What would you do instead?”

“Leave you on the floor.” He turned away but you placed your hand on his shoulder. He glared at you, but you continued smiling.

“Do you want to dance again?” You looked up at your father, who glowered. “The King seems rather unimpressed so far.”

Levi followed your stare. “Unimpressed? Why? We danced.”

“I dance with a lot of people.”

“Dance with fewer people.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You teased.

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Jealous of everyone who got to stay in the barracks.”

You shook your head, ignoring his comment. “We need to really impress him. We need to do something that’ll get us on his side,” you explained with a grin as you schemed.

Levi frowned. “I don’t like that look on your face.” He stepped back.

“Get used to it, Captain. We’re going to kiss.”

His mouth fell open. “Absolutely not.”

“Do you want resources? A better chance beyond the walls?”

“Don’t question me now, brat.”

You crossed your arms. “Don’t call me a brat; I’m not one of your cadets.”

Levi nodded. “Yeah. You’re worse.” He pulled you to the dance floor again, making uncertain eye contact with you. “At least my cadets don’t flirt with me. You’re worse than any brat.” Despite his words, he was closer to you as you danced to this song.

You could smell his cologne. It was fancy; it smelled like sandalwood and… tea? A hint of soap? Whatever it was, he was going all out for this ball. You leaned closer to him. “Is the King watching?”

He looked up, then looked back at you. “Yes.” He pressed a hand to the back of your head. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Levi sighed and looked into your eyes, then at your lips as if he had to reassure himself of every feature on your face. He looked back at your eyes, then pulled you closer by your waist and gently pressed his lips against yours.

Your eyes widened—you weren’t actually expecting him to do it. Still, the softness of his lips drove you wild. His gloved hand on your waist nearly made you melt.

He pulled away awkwardly, looking to the side. “Happy?”

You weren’t sure if it was the champagne or his lips, but you giggled. “Incredibly.” Levi’s focus avoided your eyes. You saw your father staring at you two with an alarmed expression. “I think it’s working, by the way.”

Levi nodded quickly, looking back at your father. “God, I hope so. You can convince your father now, right?”

“I suppose so. But he’ll want to meet with you, I’m sure.”

“Thought so.” He looked at you again, searching your eyes. You wondered what it was he was searching for. Embarrassment? Regret? Or maybe, just maybe, he was searching for hope. In any case, he pulled you close again, then whispered in your ear so you’d feel his warm breath against your skin, “Would you like to meet me in the gardens beforehand?”

Your eyes widened. “You really liked that kiss, huh?”

“I think it could use some work. With enough practice, though,” he paused and his lips quirked into a very faint smile, “maybe I’d come to another ball.”

#i'm so tired #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin levi #levi aot #levi fluff #levi fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman x reader #levi aot x reader #aot x reader #ballroom #aot requests #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic

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compacflt · 11 months

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Watched Marriage Story today, for the very first time, and had a lotta thoughts about EDTS Ice and Mav, especially their divorce-era. Wondered whether they would’ve genuinely gotten a divorce, if they’d somehow been married at that point. Charlie kinda reminded me of Ice: the benign belief in his own intellectual superiority, the self-pity, the willful blindness towards the reality of his relationship, the selfishness—not in the sense that Ice wasn’t kind or warm or loving, but in the sense that he really needed things to go his way (for them to not talk about anything). Of course Mav was no Nicole, he definitely shared his half of the blame, but I could totally imagine the two of ‘em having a huge fight that devolved into: “I can’t believe I have to know you … forever!” ‘Cause they kinda did: being in the Navy, moving around in the same circles, sharing an estranged kid they were both hoping to make-up with…

ok so part one of this ask not having seen marriage story: yeah i am 100% sure if they’d codified their relationship in words they would’ve broken up. like forever. letting all that anger simmer instead of boiling over is sometimes a blessing in disguise—if you say you’re together, you’re together. if you say you’re over, you’re over. no take-backsies on something like that. whereas if you don’t talk about any of it, the boundaries are a lot less definite. a blessing in disguise. i did (for mental torture purposes, and also for a prompt fill i [sorry to whomever sent it in] didnt hate myself enough to write) brainstorm that Bad Ending—if, say, Mav HAD been reckless and decisive and told ice “get the fuck out of my house obviously this isn’t gonna work you betrayed my trust & bailed on me at the second lowest moment of my life & conspired with a dying woman who is in love with you to ruin our son’s life in the exact same way MY life was once ruined and you blame me for turning you gay but you were already gay to begin with and You Fucking Killed My Best Friend And We Never Talk About It so fuck you we’re done” and went no-contact and threw ices shit out into the street and never went back to the hangar and changed all the locks and his phone number etc. and… say ice is like decimated for a few years straight, like numbingly and crushingly depressed, & then he meets not-his-sister-sarah and tells her the truth (that now he can realize with the benefit of hindsight & grief & loss—funny how loss always makes everything real clear all of a sudden): that he was in a long term relationship with a man with whom he was raising a child & with whom he was probably in love, and she marries him anyway, and obviously she’s not maverick and she doesn’t make him as happy as he did and she knows that but at least she stops him from being actively su*cidal and at least they can be open about their relationship in public and maybe they have a kid or two, and maybe he completely shifts his strategy and relocates to Virginia and moves his AOR to the atlantic instead of the pacific so he can get as far away from San Diego and maverick and home as possible, and maybe it works, and maybe there are some days he doesn’t even think about maverick or Bradley or goose, and when people mention the 1990s he grimaces and tries to forget, and he’s not ashamed of it so much as he is hurt by the memory of his own carelessness, and maybe he cries often and very very quietly, and maybe he gets his life back on track and before he knows it he has four stars on the opposite coast from the one he’d originally planned, and of course he’s not happy, but he’s never happy, so whatever.

Until. some event he can’t get out of. A mutual friend’s change of command ceremony or retirement ceremony or funeral. first thing he sees (like always) is captain Mitchell shining in his dress blues (like always). they avoid each other all evening, why bother trying? until someone forces them together, “weren’t you two at TOPGUN together? didn’t you guys kill all those soviets together?” and on and on, yes, we were, this is very very uncomfortable, until eventually they’re alone, and maverick asks, “can i buy you a drink sir?” but he’s staring at ice’s left hand and staring and staring, and it’s been over a decade but still ice doesn’t know how to say no to him, so they leave this joint and get a drink somewhere else, and maverick says, “how long have you been married,” and ice says, “eight years next march,” and you can see maverick doing the math in his head 2016-8=2008 okay, “what’s her name,” “sarah,” maverick laughs but feels bad for laughing, ice says, “we have a couple kids,” maverick stops laughing. “shit,” maverick says. ice says, “it was very difficult for me for a very long time;” maverick says, “what did you tell her;” ice says, “the truth;” maverick waits a second to respond and then says, “and what was the truth?” ice tells him the truth which is “well that i was in a long-term relationship with another man and we were raising a kid together and most likely we were in love with each other but it didn’t work out.” maverick takes a long time to respond to that and is blinking a lot and if you put your ear to his chest you’d hear that he is struggling to breathe. he says “and she married you anyway.” “she did.” he says “and You married Her anyway.” “i did.” Ice pauses then says “it was very difficult for me for a very long time.” he pauses some more and drinks and watches disinterestedly as maverick blinks and blinks. then ice says “so uh are you…?” maverick says “ive had a couple… a couple flings… nothing. nothing like.” and ice understands. maverick says, “why didn’t you tell me?” “tell you what?” “that you. that you and i were. that you felt that way about me.” ice says, “i did. i tried. i left you voicemails & sent you postcards & tried for half a decade to get in touch with the kid. did you not get my—did you not get my voicemails or my letters?” maverick blinks and blinks and says “i did get them but i didn’t open them;” ice says “well that’s that then.” and drinks. maverick says “how long after me did you meet her;” ice says “a couple years, i was deployed for O.I.F.” maverick says, “yeah, me too.” and he almost starts crying. he says “ice I’m sorry but you’re telling me ive completely wasted the last decade of my life and i don’t know what to do. do you love her? does she make you happy?” ice says “yes” and “yes.” maverick says “does she make you as happy as you were with me?” ice doesn’t care enough anymore to be dishonest and says “no. Of course not. but she made life easier when it was very difficult for me for a very long time.” maverick says, “run away with me. fuck it. let’s try again. let’s start over. no one else understands. come on. you and me. we always come back to each other. let’s try again.” and it is very very tempting. One of those watershed moments when life goes crystal clear and you can see through it. but only for a moment. ice is so tired and too old for that kind of adventure anymore. he says, i have kids, and i have a wife, and i have the navy and my four stars to think of, and i— he can be honest about this: “i want to. you know i do.” he pauses. doesn’t think he wants maverick to touch him. that can’t possibly end well and historically has not ended well. flinches away when maverick reaches out. he says “but i can’t.” maverick says, “i miss you more than anything. i want—even still!—i—please…I can’t…” another pause. ice says, “Let me get the bill, Mav.” so ice pays mavericks tab and they go their separate ways.

and maverick goes out to the desert to fly the sr-72 darkstar and pushes it beyond its limits on purpose and he doesn’t intend to survive but it’s his stupid too-good instincts that have him popping the cockpit escape pod ejection handle, and he lives by accident, like always, and destroys several billion taxpayer dollars in an instant, and without admiral Kazansky on his six backing him up admiral Cain has everything he needs to dishonorably discharge captain mitchell from the navy, so after 33 years of service to his country and 3 air to air kills maverick is unceremoniously dishonorably discharged and they kick him out without a second thought, and the Dagger special mission command goes to someone else and Bradley gets team leader and probably fails and probably dies, and atlantic fleet commander Tom Kazansky is offered the promotion to chief of naval operations and takes it, and doesn’t live long enough to meet his grandchildren, and that’s about all i have to say about that.

Now im going to go watch marriage story to answer this ask educatedly so hold on.

ok coming back the next day post marriage story and yeah you’re right i think it would look like that

#poasting for the sake of poasting #it’s wednesday #Wednesday is my poasting day #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #icemav #asks #angst #idk #yes i AM currently reading Cormac mccarthys all the pretty horses could you tell?#this movie was on my list for years so thx for making me watch it #as a californian new york transplant who hates living in a shoebox this movie is my worst nightmare fr #every film/drama guy i know is like charlie #my roommate is a film director; her boyfriend is her favorite actor; i dread the day she hates everything she worked on in college because #of the fact that he’s the star of every single one

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

Text

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 19: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2k i don't ever like... toot my own horn, but i giggled while writing this so i guess that's a positive lmao request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: kissing, angst, fluff, minor injury, brief mention of blood

In the two days since you and Eddie had quite extensively blurred the lines of your ‘relationship’ he had avoided speaking to you, more so than usual. It hadn’t been unpleasant, though. It did mean that he hadn’t had as many chances to insult you, or shout at you. And when he did speak to you, it was usually civil. It was an odd state of affairs to be living in, but you were grateful, and you understood. What had happened was so sudden, so confusing, especially for someone like Eddie. It was wise, you assumed, to stay back and let him come around on his own, to come to his own conclusions about everything, and to process without interference. That way, he might…

What you wanted was for him to feel the same as you did. Which, while you were still somewhat uncertain about what that was, you knew it involved more. More of Eddie. More touching, if that was available. But more, of something anyway. And if you got in his way, you might remind him of how irritating he found you, and that would definitely be a bit of a cock block.

You threw yourself back on your bed, placing your hands over your face to muffle the soft groan that had been building up. Eddie was likely still awake, even at this late hour, and the idea that he might hear you and ask any questions made your heart stammer in your chest. And then, as though on queue, there was a knock on your door.

Flicking on the lamp, you shuffled over to the door, bracing yourself momentarily before opening it to Eddie, who was standing just as awkwardly on the other side.

“May I come in?”

“Why?”

You bit your lip, realising that you had come across unintentionally as quite rude, when really you’d only been too slow to hide your surprise. It was fine though, as you assumed that Eddie might be more suspicious of you inviting him in straight away.

“Arm.”

He held it out, twisting it slightly to show you the fairly deep, two inch cut that ran around it.

“Jesus, Eddie! Quick, sit down.”

“Well, as long as you were already awake and have time to look at it… I don’t want to interrupt you…”

He was already making his way into the room though, sitting down by the time he finished his sentence. His gaze slowly made its way around the room, taking in the surroundings. It wasn’t often, if at all, that Eddie was actually in your space. His knowledge of what lay beyond your door was when he knocked on it and you answered, maybe taking a quick glance behind you. He seemed to be taking in as much as he could as he held his arm out, silently begging for your attention to be focused on it.

With the first aid kit from under your bed in hand, you sat down next to him and began to tend the wound, cleaning it off as best as you could with the antiseptic wipes. Neither of you said anything, and both of you avoided eye contact. The tension was palpable, and you could barely cope with the awkward feeling between you. Trying to be brave, you finally spoke, deciding that you couldn’t make things worse by just asking.

“So… how did we get here?”

“Sometimes, my dear, my hands aren’t quick enough to keep up with my brain. And working with sharp, sturdy materials means that there are ample opportunities for injury.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know that.”

Eddie sighed as you pulled out the paper stitches and began to place them along the deep gash. As you worked silently, he continued.

“You must have been getting rather nervous at the thought of confronting me… right?”

You kept silent. It felt like he was goading you, attempting to turn this into something spiteful or negative, anything to return to normality. But you were standing your ground. You refused to let things go back to the way they were, even if only out of desperation to have Eddie touch you again, to feel him against you even just one more time.

As though you were able to anticipate him, finally, after months of living with him, you felt him lean into you. His arm moved slightly, out of your soft grasp, and his hand fell to your leg, fingers tensing ever so slightly, fingertips increasing their pressure as they pressed into your thigh. In a quick movement, he buried his face into your neck, sighing as he let his nose and open lips drag across your skin.

It was obvious that he was trying desperately not to kiss you. Not that he would have assumed that was the romantic or erotic thing to do in that situation, more that it was a natural reaction to the scenario that he was trying to push down and suppress in a bid to not break his own rules. Eddie’s tongue flitted over your skin, flat, long strokes and quicker flicks with just the tip, interspersed with sharp bites as he did what he could with his mouth. But he let his guard down a few times as he moved with you, moaning softly, lips closing into what would definitely be considered a kiss if you were to argue it strongly enough. You wouldn’t though.

Eddie’s hand was reaching higher up your leg, and you moaned against him as his fingers grazed past your lips. At the sound, he stopped and pulled his whole body back from you. As your heart sank, you felt yourself stop taking breaths, preparing yourself for what was coming next. Worried that he was about to launch into a speech on why this shouldn’t happen, or couldn’t happen. How it was all a mistake, how he didn’t mean any of it ever. That you had to leave, or that he couldn’t see you. Or something equally hurtful.

Staring at his face, you could see his brain working over the words. He was being careful, considerate. Unlike him. You wondered if he was actually putting thought into the words in an attempt to seem caring, or not as harsh at least. But still, when his lips parted, your heart skipped several beats.

“I don’t… perhaps we shouldn’t dive into that… so soon. But, I wonder if it might be ok for me to stay here, just for a little bit longer… without…”

His face contorted into a confused grimace as he tried to express his desire, a vulnerable request that was obviously making him deeply uncomfortable to admit to wanting. And you didn’t want him to go back on the words so far, so you interrupted.

“Eddie, would you stay? I don’t want to… do anything else, if that’s ok. But… I’d like it if we could just lay down. It’s… cold.”

It wasn’t. But it was the best you could do under pressure.

“Ah… yes. A… fine place to give up. I won’t think less of you for waving the white flag of surrender on the evening… it was perhaps… rushed…”

Eddie cringed at his own words, internally cursing himself for being so awkward, for instantly rushing to place blame or cowardice on the other in every situation he could. But you took his hand in yours and smiled warmly at him, reassurance and kindness. Both things he hadn’t experienced much of from an external source in his life.

Laying down in the bed, you kept your body still as he adjusted himself next to you. There was minimal physical contact, and you were fine with that. Baby steps, little by little. At this rate, you were sure you might be able to tell him how you felt about him in only another three decades or so. You smiled at the thought, realising you didn’t actually care how long it took. Each bit of progress was just that. And all you cared about was that things were getting better.

As you closed your eyes and let out one final contented sigh, feeling sleep rushing over you, you felt Eddie reach for your hand, taking it in his silently. You squeezed once, a quiet acknowledgement, and then fell asleep with more ease than you had in what felt like forever.

It was so comforting to have Eddie next to you, and you realised it had done wonders for you when you woke up, having slept solidly for what you assumed was hours. As you became more aware of your surroundings, more awake with each second, you found yourself staring at Eddie’s chest, your face buried into it. Suddenly aware of your body completely, you realised you were wrapped around him, arms on his side and on his stomach, one leg over him. But before you could worry about whether that was ok or not, it suddenly dawned on you that Eddie was equally attached to you. One hand held the back of your head, the other rested on your upper arm. His leg, bent a the knee, was sandwiched between your thighs.

Looking at the clock, careful not to wake him, you realised it had been at least seven hours since you last remembered checking the time when Eddie had come into your room. It was surprising that you managed to sleep so long, but it was miraculous that Eddie had. Evidently, this is what he needed. Some comfort, security. Warmth. You noted that, knowing it would be a useful cure for his insomnia in future.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, and as tempting as it was to stay wrapped in the embrace, with each second you spent with him you were more likely to wake him up, and it felt more important that he get rest right now. So you eased yourself away from him, quietly leaving the room to sit on the sofa for a while. You had a lot to think about, and it felt good to have a quiet space to do it in.

Eventually, you decided it would be a kind gesture to take Eddie something to eat in bed, so you got started on breakfast. The sounds or the smells, though, woke him up, and he appeared behind you, shifting awkwardly on his bare feet as he coughed to get your attention.

“Oh! Good morning! I’m just making some food, I thought I would bring it to you, but we can eat it here if you’re awake.”

Eddie looked down at the floor, his gaze making its way slowly back up to meet yours where he offered you an uncomfortable smile.

“I fell asleep in your bed.”

“You did. I did too though. I slept well… did you?”

“Very.”

Smiling, trying to conceal the pride you felt in knowing you had been a part of an environment so comforting that it had made Edward Nigma sleep solidly for an entire night’s rest, you placed a plate in front of him as he sat at the table.

“Thank you.”

“Eddie… you’ve never thanked me for breakfast before. What’s up with you?”

You offered a sly grin, trying to keep the atmosphere playful. He smiled back, genuine, soft.

“It’s not… for breakfast.”

You forgave him for eating the rest of his meal in silence. And for the moderate silence he spent the entire day in. He’d already said enough. That one gesture alone, the admittance that he had enjoyed your company, that laying next to you, holding your body close to his own had provided him a modicum of something he had so desperately needed for his entire life. That was plenty to have you riding the high for the rest of the day, perhaps even the rest of the week. Maybe longer. You were certain you wouldn’t forget it in a hurry. It had imprinted itself in your memory.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

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bihansthot · 4 months

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My little ham is being extremely cuddly tonight and I am very here for it, I was very sad earlier because I can’t remember what Jäger smells like anymore. I find myself smelling Denny often hoping I won’t forget him too. For some reason I’ve been thinking a lot about Jäger’s final moments lately which prompts trying to remember what he smelled like, what he felt like and I just can’t remember, all of those memories are wrapped up and laced with so much sadness and trauma I just can’t separate them. I don’t know what’s bringing these feelings back up lately, maybe because I haven’t been feeling well and have been unhappy because I feel unwell. I need a nice distraction and neither of the guys I’ve been seeing are providing it. Maybe I need a hobby? Writing seems too constricting lately and not fun. I’ve been thinking about crocheting again but a) I have to learn again which no biggie YouTube taught me when my niece was born 15 years ago, it can teach me again, b) I have no clue what to make? I’d make something for Denny but he has so many clothes lol I guess he can always use more? Maybe cute hats like Good Boy Ollie has? Denny deserves all the cute clothes and hats, he’s such a good baby. I don’t deserve him.

In non depressing dog stuff I made some video game resolutions for the year that I’m not sure I’ll accomplish. If you’ve followed me for a very long time you know I also love Soulsborne games, I’ve beaten DS3 and Elden Ring but my resolution is to beat the DLC for DS3, I want to beat Malenia and Placidusax in Elden Ring and finally play Bloodborne. I’ve never played Bloodborne despite absolutely loving it. The problem is I haven’t touched DS3 since I beat it so I can’t remember how to play it and Elden Ring I’m reasonably confident I can beat Placidusax but Malenia woof waterfowl dance am I right? THB I had enough health to tank most of it if I could avoid at least one but it’s her stage two form scarlet rot dive bomb that killed me. Admittedly I’ve only tried Malenia 2 or 3 times, my partner got Let Me Solo Her themselves to beat Malenia for them. I don’t know where to start though, I have to restart them all from the beginning because I’m on PS5 now, I guess I should go in order? So Bloodborne first? I’m so scared though everything is so fast 😭 I’m a big dumb, clunky over level and use the biggest axe in the game type player and I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up. I don’t know if I can do the DLC I don’t know if I can beat Lady Maria or the Orphan of Kos but I guess I’ll try. Wish me luck y’all, I’m not embarking back into Soulsborne until I 100% Season of the Cryomancer though and of course this will have no bearing on my MK lust/content or anything, I don’t really have Soulsborne husbandos/waifus though I guess there’s boy Anri and Vicar Amelia (yes I’m a monster fucker, deal with it) oh oh and my precious stingray boyfriend Lorian, I don’t write for any of them or self ship with any of them so there will still be lots of dumb egg jokes. Don’t worry I’m in no way taking a break from MK I’m just indulging in another franchise I love deeply too, multitasking. So I guess just a heads up that there may be an influx of rage posts about Soulsborne bosses lol Or me professing my endless love for Greirat and Boc lol Will I ever go back to Baldur’s Gate 3?? Who knows! Probably not tbh I don’t like anyone other than Gribbo and Scratch not to mention I’ve seen my partner put just hours into it. I’ve seen the game and maybe I’m just bad at it but it’s just not fun for me which is why I’m going back to Soulsborne games lol I’ll tag my posts with “Soulsborne” if you don’t wanna see my rambling about the games though but like I said I promise I will still be all MK all the time after all it’s my true love ❤️

This has been a pointless Sol rambles, thanks for reading 🩵

#dogs are the best #tw pet loss #we don’t deserve dogs #soulsborne #new year resolutions #gaming #sol rambles

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specialagentlokitty · 2 years

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Elijah x reader - only you

You beg for asks for characters I'm not super familiar with, but I can give some general prompts I'd like to see for them! Any of the three u asked for with the prompts "I wish you'd ask me to stay.""If you leave now, you're not coming back." And "I'll always come back to you." In that order, I'm feeling angsty with happy endings. Do with this what you will, in your own time (this ask is also a Go Feral At Will And Write Whatever You Want pass). Take care!!! - Anon💜

You didn’t want him to go, you didn’t want him to leave. He was familiar, and he was kind and understanding.

You wanted Elijah to stay, even if no one else wanted him there, you did.

But you couldn’t say anything to him, standing on your porch, you stared at him, watching as he sent a message to someone before he stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

“Thank you for being hosting me (Y/N).” He smiled.

“Yeah… you’re welcome…” you whispered.

Looking away, you knew what was going to happen. They were going to stake him, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.

Elijah sighed, placing his hand under your chin, he lifted your head so he was looking at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked.

“Nothing… just school stuff…” you mumbled.

“Now, don’t lie. What is it?” He asked.

You smiled weakly and shook your head at him.

Bringing your hand up, you lightly wrapped it around his wrist.

“It’s nothing Elijah, really. I know I didn’t have much choice in housing you, but it was nice to have you here, really.”

“It was nice.” He agreed.

You lowered Elijah’s arm, and let your hand fall back to your side as you avoided his gaze.

“I wish you’d ask me to stay.” He whispered.

Snapping your eyes towards him, you stared at him in shock. He was smiling softly at you.

“What?”

“I wish you’d ask me to stay, perhaps it would make things different. Perhaps I would stay if you so wished.” He smiled.

Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head softly as you looked away.

You’d grown fond of the vampire though you wouldn’t admit it. Yes, he was after Elena and wanted to use her to kill his brother.

Yes, sometimes he hurt people.

But never had Elijah laid a single hand on you, never had he hurt.

Yes, you housed him. Because you had no other choice, it was part of his agreement with Elena to keep her compliant with him.

But he helped when you needed it, and he looked after you when you weren’t feeling too well, and he protected you from any vampire that tried working their way in.

He was different around you then he was with the others.

Maybe it was him keeping you warmed up to him so he could use you, maybe it was because it was who he really was, maybe it was because he actually cared for you.

But you had no idea.

“I must leave now. But again, thank you.”

You watched him walk down the path.

“Elijah!” You called.

“Hm?”

He turned around to face you.

“If you leave now, you’re not coming back…” you mumbled.

You knew he could hear you.

You just hoped he understood.

He chuckled, walking over, he took his blazer off and wrapped it around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

With that, he was gone.

Walking inside, you closed and locked the door behind you, skimping against it as you pulled his blazer tighter around you and buried your head in your knees.

Eventually you managed to get up, and you went straight upstairs to your room.

Elijah never slept, so he would sit downstairs and read all night, he’d only come upstairs if you couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes you’d try teaching him how to play games, but he just couldn’t quite figure them out.

Crawling into bed, you stared at the pillow opposite you and held his blazer.

Damn it.

You shouldn’t have gotten attached the the evil original who wanted to kill your friend.

But he understood you.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard for you to accept the fact that they were going to stake him.

At the end of the day, between Elena, the girl who’s family practically raised you when yours left, the girl who was like a sister to you, and Elijah, the vampire you just met, you were going to choose her.

And you always would choose her, because she was family.

Even if she wouldn’t choose you over Stefan, you’d choose her.

“I’m really sorry Elijah…”

You laid like that for hours until you finally fell asleep.

For the next few days you kept quiet, and everyone understood why. You genuinely cared for the original, and they took him away from you.

Sitting on the grass outside the school, you were reading one of the books he left behind.

“(Y/N)?”

Looking up, you smiled at Stefan as he sat down.

“I’m really sorry for what we did, but we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know… I don’t blame you for it.. it just… reminds me of the past I guess… but you didn’t have a choice, we’ve got to keep Elena safe.”

“Thank you for understanding.” He smiled.

“Anytime.” You smiled back.

Stefan sat with you for the rest of lunch, but you decided you didn’t want to go to history or English, so you went home instead.

Heading to your bedroom, you kicked your shoes off and grabbed the blazer from the back of the chair as you climbed into bed.

Holding it tightly, you closed your eyes as you sighed.

“You know, I believe I may be better comfort then that.”

You shot up, blazer falling from your grasp as you stared at your doorway.

Elijah stood there, looking dishevelled, blood on his shirt but a smile on his face.

Holding his arms out, you scurried to get off the bed and ran at him, jumping into his arms.

Elijah chuckled softly, holding you gently as he walked over to the bed and laid down, you still clinging to his chest.

Smiling down at you, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and closed his eyes, resting his chin there as he sighed.

“H..how…?” You weakly asked.

“I’ll always come back to you…” he whispered back.

When he was staked, you were the only thing that went through his head. What would happen to you, who would protect you and keep you safe.

He could only think about you, and how much he didn’t want anything to happen to you.

How much he actually cared for you.

Now, holding you in his arms. Elijah was going to be dammed if anything happened to you while he was around

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah x reader

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burningdarkfire · 9 days

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dear critter (wildflowers 2024)

Hi! I’m burningdarkfire on both AO3 and tumblr.

The prompts below are in order of preference, although of course I would be excited about anything listed (which is why I listed them!). If you want reference points, I’ve written 50+ critrole fics on my main AO3 account that you are welcome to peruse.

I read widely and am hard to shock or dismay. In general, I would prefer for you to write something you are comfortable with than tie yourself into knots trying to fulfill my vision. Confident writing is fun to read!

I am not active in discord servers but you can always reach me on tumblr if you have questions. Here is last year's Dear Critter letter if you'd like it for reference.

Details below!

DNWs:

I love reading and writing about trans characters, but I do not want to put the pressure of conforming to my complex preferences onto a gifter. Please avoid any unrequested genderfuckery—there are two exceptions that I will detail in the next section.

I do not want any included or implied character backstory for Essek Thelyss that whumps him to explain or excuse his actions—this includes abuse from his family members, abuse from members of the Cerberus Assembly, etc. Additionally, I strongly prefer that Essek returns to the Dynasty post-campaign and tries to build a home there.

I do not want sprinklings of other languages in the fic—this includes snippets of dialogue, recurring jokes, nicknames, pet names, etc. I know it’s a canon characteristic for some but I prefer not to read it. It’s fine for the narration to indicate that characters are speaking in other languages or if there is a specific purpose to the change in language (e.g., familial titles that don’t translate if they are strictly necessary for the world-building).

Likes:

Explicit fic, including both smut and darkfic

Power dynamics, complicated relationships, codependency, devotion, strong platonic bonds, relationships that defy labels, polyamory, having casual sex or sex between people who are not in a romantic relationship, waking up together, laughing together, descriptions of food and other small aspects of domestic life, found family

Stories that explore the role gender plays in character—the two exceptions to the above "no genderfuckery" are a/b/o and Rule 63

I absolutely adore aromantic Caleb Widogast with my whole heart

Request #1: Campaign 2 Wizard Soups

Astrid/Eadwulf/Essek/Caleb, Astrid/Essek, Astrid/Eadwulf/Essek, Eadwulf/Essek

Definitely my flavour of the year! They're so similar and yet so different—I love to imagine how they might fit (or not fit!) with each other. There's a lot of potential post-canon for complicated feelings—jealousy, nostalgia, missing someone even though they're right there, staking claims on Caleb's past/present/future, budding and re-budding relationships. I don't need Caleb to be present in a fic where he isn't included in the central pairing, but I think his presence or absence is exactly what makes A/E/W contending with each other interesting. I love it when no one knows the answer to "what are we?" Divergent canons, such as Volstrucker!Bren, are also totally okay and encouraged. I particularly enjoy explorations of the canon where Astrid kills Trent and/or the existence of the Volstrucker continue under her hand. I think there's a lot of opportunity to explore how A/E/W are much closer to the dirty details of running a nation versus an idealistic Caleb—how might they collaborate or antagonize?

Request #2: Campaign 2 Blumendrei

Astrid/Eadwulf/Caleb, Astrid&Eadwulf&Caleb, Astrid/Eadwulf, Astrid/Caleb, Eadwulf/Caleb

It's my fucking bread and butter and I'll take pretty much anything. Academy days, post-campaign reunion, the most nebulous of timelines or the most obscure of AUs. I'm happy to read about assassination missions, eating lunch together, or an AU with nonsensical white collar office jobs. How did their relationship start—how did it fall apart—how did they reconnect? It can be nostalgic, happy, or toxic. It's fine if not all the characters involved are queer, as long as they're together. The sky's really the limit here!

Request #3: Campaign 2 Wizard Shenanigans

Astrid/Jester, Astrid&Jester, Astrid/Beauregard, Astrid&Beauregard, Astrid/Marion, Eadwulf/Fjord/Jester, Caleb/Lucien, Caleb/Nott, Caleb/Essek/Jester, Caleb/Essek/Fjord, Caleb/Marion

Basically this is the catch-all category for "happy to read more about the wizards"! Again, pretty much anything goes—flirty and fun, serious parallel character studies, "what if" moments in canon that might have turned another way. Non-canonical pairings in the background are okay and even encouraged. If Fjord and/or Jester are involved, I've always held an immense soft spot for Pirate AUs (set in Exandria or elsewhere). My only preference is that Astrid, Wulf, and Caleb remain on good (or just unknown) terms if the fic is focused on them with other partners.

Request #4: Campaign 2 Polynein

M9/M9, Fjord/Beauregard, Caleb/Beauregard

I believe deeply that relationships don't have to all look the same—I would love to explore what Polynein looks like, in the canon world or another! What does it look like with children involved, with marriages, with differing or changing primary partners, when the Nein are scattered across the globe? Including the Beauregard pairs here as I feel like they're natural fits in this category, but I would also be interested in how you can make them work otherwise!

Request #5: EXU Calamity

Asmodeus the Lord of the Nine Hells/Zerxus Ilerez

I just think there should be more fic about how they're fucked up together and what it looks like for them to be bonded to each other post-game. I'm not particularly caught up on Campaign 3 but would be interested to read what they might be up to in the "current day" of canon (spoilers totally fine) or at any other point in the past or future. Please don't soften the sharp edges of this one.

#my posts

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sibillascribbles08 · 1 year

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48. “I love you too much to let you humiliate yourself this way.”

See, the problem that happened is I read this and was like okay I can either make this very painful or kind of funny, and bat wanted angst, so then I had to not only write the painful thing but also the resolution and let me tell you this would not have resolved easy so ummmMMMMMM 5k fic. Basically Donnie fucks up really bad.

Added note, since a lot of these prompt fics take place after some other story stuff I haven't done yet, I try to avoid referencing thing from those. Could not avoid it this time. Comet is a telepathic mushroom kid, they're just there don't worry about it.

“Jase, this isn’t going to work.”

His boyfriend turned to glare at him, arms wrapped around a box that he carried toward the back door of the office building. “And how do you know? You had no part in building this or testing it.”

Donatello refrained from saying that’s exactly why he didn’t think it would work. “But have you tested for everything they might ask from it? Drones aren’t a new invention, Jase.”

He rolled his eyes. “What is with you? I know what I’m doing here Donnie, and if I don’t make it that’ll be on me, but the least you could do is have a little more faith in my work.”

“But why do you even need to do this?”

“Because I can’t stay as a security intern forever.”

“You won’t. I just need to—”

“Donnie, be realistic, do you even have an estimate for when you can bring your tech company to the surface?”

Donatello cringed at that, not having an answer.

“Until you do, I need to find a better job.” He adjusted his grip on the box as he opened the door. “And that starts with me trying this. If you aren’t going to cheer me on then go home.”

Donatello didn’t say anything as the door shut in his face. He absolutely would not go home. If Jase was that determined to do this, he had to make sure this drone blew these higher ups out of the water. Not literally, of course.

His boyfriend had been planning this for a few weeks. And while at first, Donatello had been just as excited and eager, looking at the fancy building in front of him he just felt nervous. What if their standards were too high? Or too stupid? What if they wanted to see something they’d never seen before? He’d seen Jason’s reactions to rejection before. He couldn’t let that happen.

He activated his vision, using it to follow Jase up a few floors. He activated his shell to hover up there, keeping close to the wall to avoid being spotted. As soon as he found an empty room, he climbed inside.

Thank goodness buildings this big were shockingly empty. Slipping through the halls was child’s play, and he hid away in the room just across from where Jase’s signal stopped.

After a few minutes, an employee came by, and Jase stepped out to follow her, box not in hand.

Donatello squinted after him before darting across the hall. The box waited on the breakroom table, more than easy to open.

Vision still active, he quickly picked apart the mechanics of it. At least it was built solid, but so simple. Didn’t Jase want to wow these people?

Donatello used his ninpo to summon a few tools.

He managed to fiddle with it for at least ten minutes, and started closing it back up when he heard the doorknob.

He tried to dive under the table, but too late.

“Donnie?” Jason hissed. Then he glanced into the hall before shutting the door. “What are you doing?”

Donatello stared back at him, screwdriver still in hand. “Uhhh.”

His boyfriend glanced at him, then at the box. “Wh… were you messing with my drone?”

“What? No.” He made the tool vanish before straightening up. “I was just—”

“Donatello.” Jase used his full name as he stomped forward. “Do not lie to me.”

He bared his teeth and crossed his arms. “I was just giving something a bit extra to—”

“What is wrong with you?” Jase grabbed his jacket and shook him. “Why will you not just let me handle this?”

“Because what if it’s not enough?” Donatello tried to pull himself free. “This is a big place, Jase, they might want something more.”

Jase’s grip went slack. “What? You just think I’m not good enough?”

Anxiety twisted in his chest when he realized how all of this sounded. “No. No. That’s not it. It’s just that they might think that way. You have to blow the minds of people like this, Jase.”

“I just need to show them I can develop my own tech.” Jason shoved Donatello back and stomped around him. “Speaking of which, they’re waiting on me. Go home.”

Wait, was that even a good idea? Donatello hadn’t finished patching up the drone. There’d be a risk of something going wrong. He slipped in front of his boyfriend. “Hang on.”

“No.” Jason tried to move around him again. “I have an interview to finish.”

“Jase—”

“Donnie, will you let it go?”

“No! I love you too much to let you humiliate yourself this way.”

Jason straightened up and froze. His eyes widened, grip on the box faltering as he stared.

Wait, no. Those words came out all wrong. Donatello needed to rephrase and repeat it before—

“So you just have no faith in me?”

The words got stuck in Donatello’s throat as he watched Jason’s gaze move to the floor before snapping back up in a glare.

“Get out of my way.” Jason stomped past him toward the door.

Donatello reached out to stop him, but missed.

Damn. Damn damn damn. What did he do now? He couldn’t follow Jason into the interview room. Every time in the past he tried to fix a mistake while under that much stealth it never went well.

Maybe all he could do was let Jase do his thing and wait for him at the exit.

Donatello left the way he came in, hovering down to the street level and tucking himself away next to the dumpster. He kept fiddling with his sleeves and glancing at his phone. Anything to try and keep his anxiety down. Maybe it’d be fine. Even if he didn’t close it up properly that didn’t guarantee it would break or fall apart. Jason could just run it through whatever he had planned and that would be that.

Every time he checked his phone, he checked the time. It took ten minutes for the door to open, hard. The outside knob slammed into the wall.

Donatello peeked out from behind the dumpster to see Jason step out, box in hand. His gaze was fixed down at it, mouth pressed into a flat line.

Donatello dared to step out of his hiding place. “Jase?”

His boyfriend stumbled before he straightened back up. He glared at him not even a second later, fire behind his dark eyes.

He stomped over, shoving the box into Donatello’s arms before the turtle could say anything.

He glanced at the drone. What had been mostly intact last he saw it, now had a gaping hole in the top. Scorch marks surrounded it, and the smell of burnt plastic hovered in the air.

Oh. It didn’t go well, did it?

“This is all your fault.” Jase mumbled and began to walk away.

More than enough confirmation to his suspicions. Guilt swallowed him in an instant, as if he hadn’t already been drowning in it.

He ran to catch up with his boyfriend. “Jase, wait—”

“Go away, Donnie.”

“I’m sorry.” He drew closer. “I was trying to help. I was trying to—”

Jason whirled on him, finger already pressing hard against his chest. “Trying to help? If you were trying to help, why weren’t you listening to me? Why didn’t you trust me?”

Donatello curled up as he stepped away. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough. I thought—”

“Do you think I didn’t research this place before I applied? You think I didn’t read up on everything they look for when it comes to tech development? Do you think I’m stupid?”

That made him straighten back up. “No!”

“Then why did you interfere? Why did you—” Jason’s words were cut off with a sob, but he took in a sharp breath and held his glare. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

He turned to leave once again. Donatello grabbed his arm. He couldn’t let this conversation end like this.

“Jase, please—”

“Let me go.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to say earlier that I hadn’t finished putting it back together so—”

Jason tried to tug himself free. “I don’t want to hear your excuses right now.”

Donatello tightened his grip. “I’m just trying to explain—”

“Let me go!”

“I didn’t meant to—”

The slap struck hard. The sound echoed off the asphalt and the concrete. Pain bloomed in Donatello’s cheek as he stood there, paralyzed. His grip on Jason’s arm went slack, as well as his grip on the box. The whole thing fell to the ground with a crash.

His now empty hand moved up to press against his stinging cheek. Jason stared at him, hand still in the air as he took a step back. He looked frightened, eyes tearing up.

The shock settled around Donatello’s shoulders as the whole thing sank in. Jase just slapped him. Somehow, in spite of all their bickering, he’d never done that before.

It didn’t make him angry, really. Just surprised, and hurt in more ways than one. But when he opened his mouth to try and say something, Jase bolted.

Donatello took a step to follow, but his foot slammed into the box. He stumbled, the shock once again holding him in place. All he could do was watch numbly as Jase disappeared down the street.

He glanced down at the box, and the broken drone that now half lay on the road. He reached down to pick it all up, putting it back in place. His thumb ran over the scorched metal, feeling the frayed ends of the wires.

What did he do?

And how was he supposed to fix it?

-----------------------

Donatello gave it some time. He and Jase always needed space after an argument and no doubt this would be no exception. Despite how much he wanted to show up ASAP with a bullet point essay on all the reasons he was sorry, Jase probably wouldn’t listen to it.

So he gave it a day, dodging his family as much as possible because speaking was… difficult, to put it simply. He resorted in most cases to some quick sign language or just asking Comet to speak for him. In the meantime he worked on the drone, fixing it properly. No more extra fancy bells and whistles. There probably wasn’t much point, but maybe if Jase found another place to apply to, he could use it again.

With the fixed drone in tow, Donatello flew over to Jason’s house. These days, after introducing himself to Mr. Song, he would often just knock on the front door. But he didn’t exactly want Jason’s dad to see him when he was already riddled with this much guilt. It’d make everything worse.

He stood under Jason’s window and reached out, starting to climb the wall.

The front door opened.

Donatello scrambled back down and glanced to the side to see Mr. Song staring at him. The man had on his casual wear—tank top and sweatpants—and held a glass of wine in his hand.

Donatello just stood there, hands still on the wall. “Ah…”

“Donatello.” The man’s tone was unusually cold. “You know how to knock on the door. I know you do.”

“I was just—”

“Front door.”

Donatello flinched before he let go of the wall and hung his head. “Y-yes sir.”

He gripped the bag he had slung over his shoulder, the one carrying the drone, and followed his boyfriend’s father into the house. The door closed, and the house felt far too quiet. He looked up the stairs, seeing the door to Jase’s room was shut.

He was just about to make his way up the steps when Mr. Song slipped in front of him. A hand on the chest held him back, even with no force behind it.

Donatello blinked and straightened up. “Um…”

“Keep your voice down.” The man hissed. “Unless you want Jase to find out you’re here, if he doesn’t suspect you are already.”

“Well, Jase is the whole reason I’m here.”

Mr. Song narrowed his eyes. “Donnie, I’m going to be blunt with you. Jase doesn’t want to see you right now. And after hearing what happened, I don’t blame him.”

Ah, as if that wasn’t another sledge hammer to the chest. Donatello kept gripping the strap, feeling the texture of it underneath his fingers. “I know I messed up.”

“That’s putting it lightly, though I imagine you know that.”

Donatello did know that, but he had no idea how else you were supposed to phrase it. I caused a nuclear explosion? I set fire to the woods?

“I just want to fix this.” He mumbled.

“I trust that you do, but that doesn’t mean this is the time or place. Jase told me not to let you just walk up there and, unlike you, I listen to my son.”

Ouch. Donatello couldn’t keep himself from curling up after that verbal blow. “I just…”

He just what? Wanted to help? He couldn’t keep making that excuse. Jason was right. Donatello should have listened. He should have trusted him. The interview didn’t need to be perfect or dazzling, just good enough to land him a job. And Donatello not only wrecked that opportunity but sent a very clear message in the process.

“Can I at least try?” He muttered.

Mr. Song sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask. But if he says no, I’m shooing you out of here. And don’t think I can’t.” He pointed at Donatello before heading up the stairs.

Mr. Song’s reaction to him just made this situation hurt all the more. Normally the guy was always so excited to see him, chattering away, asking questions or inviting him to game nights. Now he stared at Donatello like one wrong step could prompt an attack.

Maybe it would.

After only a minute—that felt like an eternity—Mr. Song came back out of the bedroom and headed downstairs.

“He said you can go in.” The man sipped at his wine. “But I suggest you choose your words carefully.”

Yeah, Donatello didn’t need to be told that. Still, he felt the pressure as Mr. Song stood there and watched him go up the stairs and open the door.

The room was dark. Jason lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, or glaring at it.

Donatello didn’t say anything at first. He shut the door and set the drone on the nearby computer desk.

Then he glanced back at Jase, wondering if he should sit down. No, there was no reason to get comfy. If Jason didn’t want to see him there was a high chance he’d be kicked out of here at any point.

Still, he took a few steps closer. “Um… hey.”

Jase fixed his glare on Donatello before looking back at the ceiling. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize. I want to fix this.” He tugged at his sleeves.

“Fix it how, Donnie?” Jason waved an arm before letting it flop against the mattress. “The job opportunity is a complete bust, and besides, me failing that interview is only a small part of why I’m so pissed off.”

Donatello’s fingers dug into the material of his jacket before moving down to the back of his hands. “I know I should have just let you handle this. I just—”

“You just what?” Jason sat up this time. “I don’t understand you. You asked me to run a company with you because you insist I’d be good at it. You constantly try to flatter me over my attention to detail. And then whenever something like this comes around you insist on butting your way in.”

“I want to make sure it goes well.”

“I didn’t ask you to!” Jason snapped.

Donatello flinched, scratching harder. “I know.”

“If you know then why do you do it?”

This conversation felt like it was going in circles. Was he just not explaining himself clearly? Not explaining enough? “I don’t know what you want me to say, Jase.”

“I want you to be honest with me. Do you actually think I’m capable? Or do you think you have to carry me around everywhere?”

“I do think you’re capable.” Donatello insisted. “I just want to help. I want things to be perfect.”

“If I want your help, I’d ask.”

“I know.”

“And even if you insisted, you should listen to me when I tell you ‘no.’”

“I know!” Donatello snapped, in spite of how hard he was trying not to. “I know. I know I screwed up Jase. How many times do you have to say it? How many times do I have to apologize? What do you want me to do to fix this?”

Jason’s glare softened, but it still looked incredibly cold. “I want you to trust me. I want us to stop having this stupid song and dance every time something big comes up, and having the same argument, and hearing the same apologies.” He pulled his knees up to his chest as his gaze turned away. “You asked me to be your partner after asking me to be your business partner, but now I’m starting to wonder if either of those things are going to work out.”

Lead filled up Donatello’s lungs. The part of his scales now turning raw from all the scratching, simply went numb. “Wh-what are you saying?”

Jason still didn’t look at him. In fact, bit by bit, he hid his face more and more.

That had to be a joke. Or Donatello just misunderstood it. Jason wasn’t actually implying they should go their separate ways. After everything?

He couldn’t vocalize any of these questions. Everything shut down in slow motion. His hands went slack before falling to his sides. His lungs refused to move.

There was a brief second of anger and desperation. A part of him that wanted to scream. Insist they shouldn’t do this. If something was broken he could fix it. He could fix it. He just needed the time and materials and he could fix anything.

But not if Jase didn’t want it fixed.

“I…” Donatello could only manage the single pronoun before he grit his teeth together. He tried to force out another, but his throat felt so tight.

What should he do? He felt so stupid just standing here, at a loss for words. Jason just told him to get out of his life and maybe this time he should listen.

So he did.

He didn’t exactly bolt from the room, but his strides were swift as he went out the door and down the stairs. He made it outside and onto the front steps when Mr. Song stopped him.

“Donnie?” The man stood in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

In different circumstances, Donatello might have told him. Mr. Song had proven more than once to be a safe place to discuss life problems. But this whole thing was Donatello’s fault, so what could he say?

“I have to go.” Was all he could manage before he shell opened up and he took off.

He didn’t listen to whoever called after him.

---------------------

“Okay, guys? We’re having an intervention.” Leonardo clapped his hands as he stared at two of his brothers. The third one—the reason for the intervention—was still locked up in his bedroom.

Mikey frowned. “Leo, Donnie’s made it pretty clear he’s not interested in our help.”

“I don’t care. It’s been three whole days.” Leonardo opened his arms before he paced back and forth. “And one of those he wasn’t even home. Shelldon had to find him curled up on top of a building where he’d spent the entire night. He needs to eat something. We’re lucky he’s taking the water we leave.”

Raph let out a long sigh, holding onto Comet who sat on his lap. “I know you’re worried, Leo, I am too. But just what are we supposed to do?”

Leonardo glanced at the young mushroom yokai. “Maybe Comet could—”

“Nope.” Raph snapped. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Fine, fine.” Leonardo waved a hand. “Then our only other two options are either I annoy him until he talks or Mikey tries something with Dr. Feelings.”

Mikey clearly didn’t like that idea, but stood. “Fine, it’s been a couple of days. I suppose I can try again. Better than having a screamfest break out.”

Leonardo scoffed. Like his interrogations on his twin ever got that bad.

Donnie sad. Comet’s voice popped into his head.

He looked toward the mushroom child. “Yeah, we know.”

They narrowed their eyes. Sad. Grief sad. Loss.

“Lost what?”

Jase. They grabbed the top of their feet and rocked back and forth on Raph’s lap.

“Huh?” Raph almost shouted. “Did Jase die?”

Comet jumped. No. No die. Just lost.

Leonardo shook his head. Sometimes translating the telepathy messages got far too tricky. “How about we just ask Donnie?”

“On it. Wish me luck.” Mikey clicked his teeth to summon Triple Todd up onto his shoulder and headed in the direction of Donnie’s room.

Leonardo hated standing around, but wasn’t sure what else to do. At least he wasn’t the only one bored. Comet hopped off Raph’s lap, announcing they were going to get a snack, and trotted off to the kitchen. Raph wound up following because even after all this time he was still worried that Comet may drop something on their head.

He flopped onto the sofa, shoulders scrunched up to his jaw as he waited.

He actually started dozing off when Mikey came back, huge frown on his face. His prop glasses tapped against his hand.

Leonardo sat up. “So? Anything?”

“I think Donnie and Jase broke up.”

It took a second for that sentence to register. And when it did, Leonardo shouted, “What?” at the top of his lungs, mouth hanging open.

Those two breaking up? It didn’t even seem possible. They were practically attached at the hip. Two parts of a whole.

Not that Leonardo would ever say stuff like this out loud.

“Donnie won’t give me a lot of details.” Mikey tapped the glasses faster before he finally just put them away. “But he said that Jase is apparently through with him. His words.”

“It’s gotta be some kind of misunderstanding, right?” Leonardo stood. “A bad argument that just has to be cleared up?”

Mikey sighed. “If I knew Leo, I would have told you.”

“Well, what do we—”

Soft footsteps interrupted him. He glanced at the floor to see Comet scurrying across the room, jumping now and then.

Jase. Their thoughts chimed through the air as they went. Jase. Jase. Jase.

Leonardo just watched them until it registered. Jase was here? In the lair?

He took off after his nibling, following them all the way to the entrance. Comet didn’t pay Leonardo any mind, making a b-line for Jase as he slipped inside.

Jase. They kept chanting and floated themselves into the air.

Jase seemed to be taken off guard, but still caught them in his arms. “Uh, hey Comet.” He glanced up. “Hey Leo…”

Leonardo couldn’t keep himself from frowning. He rested his hands on his hips as he came to a stop. “Please tell me you’re here to fix things with Donnie and not take home whatever you’re keeping from the divorce.”

Jason blinked and stared at him. “D-divorce?”

“Look, I don’t exactly know details, but we’ve kind of gathered that you two had a break up.”

“B-break up? No, I wasn’t…” He sighed. “Though I’m pretty sure Donnie interpreted it that way.” Then he shook his head and gently set Comet on the floor. “Doesn’t matter. This is our business, butt out of it.”

Leonardo didn’t let Jase get very far, teleporting in front of him and holding out a hand. “Hey. It kind of is a bit of my business when my brother won’t come out of his room for three days straight.”

“So what are you going to do? Lecture me before I go and try to fix all of this? You don’t need to be involved.”

Leonardo opened his mouth to argue, but Comet slipped into his field of vision. His nibling tugged on Jason’s shorts before trying to pull him down the hall.

“Look.” Leonardo followed after them. “I just want to be sure that my brother’s going to be getting better after this, not worse.”

“What, do you want me to make promises?” Jason kept his gaze fixed forward. “I can’t do that, Leo. There’s a chance this conversation is going to go just as badly as the last one. And if that happens… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Yeesh. Leonardo wasn’t sure if he wanted all the details to this mess, because it sounded big. Bigger than anything that came before it. “Just let Comet know if one of us should intervene. How about that?”

Jason scoffed. Comet let go of him and he continued on his own toward Donnie’s lab. “Like I said, I’m not making any promises.”

----------------------

It took a few tries to even get in Donnie’s room.

Jason knocked, then used the speaker, but it took his fourth time insisting that Donnie open up so they could talk for anything to actually happen.

Of course it shut behind him, leaving him in the dark except for some purple and blue lights that came from the small stand for plants that Donnie kept near his bed.

Speaking of, that’s where the softshell was curled up, hiding not only under the sheets but a whole bundle of pillows.

“Thought you said you never wanted to see me again.” Donnie croaked.

Jason bit back his sarcasm. “No. My exact words were, ‘I don’t know if either of those things are going to work out.’ What I meant by that is if we keep encountering the same problem over and over again, I don’t know how long I can take it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have phrased it better, but I didn’t mean to imply we should split up.”

“Not sure how else I was supposed to interpret that.” Donnie growled before retreating further under the pile of cushions.

Fine. He was mad. Upset. Probably all kinds of messed up if he really hadn’t been out of his room for a few days. Truthfully, Jason was also mad still. At least he cleared his head enough to accept the fact that Donnie was sorry.

But this problem really wouldn’t get fixed unless both of them were in a position to listen.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you just want me to come back later? Give you some space?”

Silence. Jason chose to be patient, waiting for an actual response before he did anything.

Then the pillows shifted before a muffled sob came from underneath them.

Jason’s heart constricted in his chest. He shoved a few of the plush squares to the side before the whole hill fell apart when Donnie pushed himself up.

“No.” Tears covered his cheeks. “Space is the last thing I want right now.”

Jason figured he knew what that meant, but Donnie didn’t reach toward him, so he reached out instead as he sat on the bed.

Donnie practically collapsed in his arms, burning his face in Jason’s stomach as he clung to him. He kept crying and Jason didn’t bother to make him stop. Truthfully, he felt like doing the same thing.

This whole situation sucked.

“I’m sorry.” Donnie mumbled. “I’m really really sorry. I know you’re right. I know I shouldn’t have done that. I should have just listened to you.”

“Donnie.” Jase interrupted, tightening his grip. “I know you’re sorry. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

Donnie didn’t look up at him. “You still sound mad at me.”

He let out a long sigh, curling up so he could rest his chin on Donnie’s head. “I am still mad, to be honest. But not to the point where I can’t accept your apology, even if it takes a bit longer for me to forgive you. Not to the point where I’m going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay.” Donnie’s sobs quieted down, but he didn’t let go.

Jason just kept holding onto him, eventually pulling his legs up on the bed and laying on his side. The motion forced Donnie to adjust his grip, but he stayed close, nuzzling against Jason’s chest.

“Donnie, from now on, if I point out that you’re not listening to me, please do me a favor and listen to me.”

“I can try that.”

And Jason believed it. In spite of how stubborn his boyfriend could be, he’d already seen him change a lot just within the time they’d known each other. Getting an apology from Donnie used to be like pulling teeth, and now the turtle would do it the minute he realized he made a mistake.

Well, at least as far as Jason was concerned. Apparently he still hated giving an apology to Leo.

“I’ll try not to drag you into my doom spirals.” Jason added. “It wasn’t nice of me to imply we should split up.”

Donnie hummed, though it almost sounded like a growl. “I should have given you at least one more day to cool off.”

“Yeah, probably.” Jason agreed. He let one of his hands slide down Donnie’s neck and his shoulder, nails gently scraping over his scales.

“Jase?”

“Yeah?”

“I really really love you. So I want to help you. And then it gets out of hand.”

Jason sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. “I know. That’s why you just need to listen to me when I tell you to stop.”

“Yeah.” Donnie agreed. “I’ll… try to work on that.”

“That’s all I ask. And for the record, I love you too.” He ran his fingers over the turtle’s skin again. “But you’re barred from coming with me to job interviews ever again.”

Donnie actually let out a short laugh. “Yeah uh, that’s fair.”

Jason smiled and rested his head on the blankets, letting his forehead bump into Donnie’s shoulder.

In spite of some still lingering resentment, there’s still nowhere he’d rather be.

------------------------

Leonardo looked up from his comic book, glancing at his phone. Almost two hours had passed and not a word from Donnie’s room.

He glanced at Comet who sat on the floor, building what they referred to as ‘The Pit of Eternal Suffering’ to put a handful of their toys in as punishment.

“Hey, Comet,” Leonardo said.

They glanced up, eyes wide.

“Are Donnie and Jase doing okay?”

A low buzz rang through the air as their gaze became distant, fixed on something far far away.

Then they returned to their toys. Asleep.

Leonardo blinked. “Need to elaborate there a bit, little man.”

They narrowed their eyes. They are asleep. Unconscious. Dreams I will not look at. No no.

“But they aren’t upset?”

Not enough to notice. Now be silent. Comet shot him a glare as they held up a pair of figures. Dr. Chimcham must be punished.

Leonardo snorted at the name, but didn’t say anything. Not that it mattered, Comet probably heard his internal comment anyway, but they didn’t reply.

He looked at his phone again and opened his texts, looking at the one Mr. Song sent him over an hour ago asking how it was going. He typed up a reply.

>I think they’re going to be okay.

Still. Donnie hadn’t eaten anything. No doubt his twin would be clawing at the walls for a snack when he came to.

Leonardo got up and stretched. Time to see what leftovers Mikey still had in the fridge.

#scribbly fics #rottmnt #jasonnie #posting this now idc I got a flight tomorrow #did not comb this for typos if you see one no you didn't

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can-of-pringles · 8 months

Text

When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 7

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None except references to depression

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Copia decides to go outside, needing some fresh air during his break.